“I accidentally stumbled into a kink community chat, and they booted me out on Day Three. They figured out I was totally out of my depth—just a stressed-out fraud who’d shown up looking for some primal release and a target for her corporate rage. I went to my best friend, Jessie, to vent. Jessie stared at me, aghast. “You used a hot glue gun instead of a low-temp wax candle! Of course they found out!” I was defensive. “The guy I met that first night didn’t make a sound!” “Maybe he just had a high pain tolerance. Was he hot?” she asked, intrigued. I shook my head. “Couldn’t tell, it was dark…” Just as I was talking, Jessie’s older brother walked out of the bathroom, shirtless. Six feet tall, eight-pack abs, god-tier genetics. My eyes locked onto him. I mumbled, distracted, “His build is actually a lot like the guy I met.” The next second, Logan Knox turned around, and I saw the distinct red marks, still visible and raw, covering his sculpted back. Me: “?” Jessie: “?!” 1 Logan hadn’t seen me yet, and he casually strolled through the living room. Jessie and I were frozen on the couch, our eyes tracing his every movement. It wasn’t until Logan grabbed a T-shirt from the chair and pulled it over his head, shielding his back, that we snapped back to reality. “Logan…” Jessie mumbled, her voice strained. Logan paused, pulling the hem of his shirt up to wipe his neck, and turned to look at us. The six-pack vanished. I silently cursed Jessie for being too slow with her warning. Logan didn’t look embarrassed at all, though his slightly pink ears suggested otherwise. He picked up a jacket nearby. “We have company? Jessie, why didn’t you tell me?” Jessie spoke mechanically, “I notified you the minute you came out of the bathroom.” Logan ignored her, shrugging into his jacket. “I have an appointment. You two carry on.” His movements were quick. A moment later, he was gone, the front door clicking shut. I thought for a moment, then leaned in. “Did you see that?” Jessie looked shell-shocked. “I saw it.” After a few seconds of silence, she suddenly burst out laughing. “Pfft, stop! What are you thinking?! It couldn’t possibly be my brother! Logan is the most straight-laced guy you’ll ever meet, there’s no way he’d be involved in… that!” “Hahahahahaha, Harper, you’re hilarious. Linking him to the kink scene…” I didn’t argue. I just watched her. She laughed until she was doubled over. Finally, she collapsed into my lap, and the laughter turned into a choked-up sound. “Oh my god, seriously, think hard. Are you absolutely sure it was him?” 2 I couldn’t blame Jessie for her breakdown. The kink community can get intense, and for some, boundaries like gender don’t exist. Logan, however, was her brother. We’d been neighbors since childhood, Logan was two years older than us, and the quintessential “Golden Boy”—every parent’s blueprint for success. I always thought he was a little boring, so whenever I went to Jessie’s house, I’d just offer a casual greeting and move on. My opinion changed during my freshman year of high school. I was in ninth grade, he was a senior. My old desktop had died, and on a Friday after school, I snuck into a dingy gaming lounge near school to print out some research. I paid for my time and found the designated computer. I looked up, and I was staring straight into Logan Knox’s eyes. He was wearing headphones, looking at me curiously. After a moment, he spoke my name. “Harper?” I couldn’t believe the straight-A student, Logan Knox, was here. Jessie had told me he stayed at school for study hall every Friday. I realized I’d stumbled onto his secret, and my heart hammered in my chest. He simply returned to his screen, continuing his game as if I wasn’t there. Then, he slid an unopened can of soda over to me. “It’s on me.” I nervously took a sip, and heard him chuckle. Logan looked at me, a playful smile on his face. “You just bought my silence, Harper. You have to keep my secret, too.” The soda caught in my throat. I looked at him, startled. He was about to say something else when a commotion erupted outside the lounge. Someone yelled a warning: “The Principal is doing a sweep! Especially for seniors!” The teachers were fast, their footsteps getting closer, and the students inside had nowhere to hide. My anxiety spiked. I looked over at Logan, but the chair across from me was empty. I spun around. He was standing beside me. A teacher recognized him and walked over immediately. “Logan Knox? What are you doing here?” Logan looked perfectly innocent. “My sister—Harper—needed to look up some research, and I was worried about her being alone, so I came to keep her company.” Two pairs of adult eyes swiveled to me. I blinked, greeting the teacher politely. Then I turned to Logan and said, with all the conviction I could muster, “Just a little longer, Brother. I’m almost done.” The teacher glanced at my computer screen, which was indeed showing a research paper, and relaxed. Before leaving, he gave us a stern warning. “Get home soon. Be safe.” After the teacher left, Logan patted my head. “Quick thinking.” The clean, fresh scent of his soap hit me, and my heart was beating so fast I couldn’t form a sentence. Logan didn’t seem to notice. He bought me a pile of snacks, walked me home after I finished my work, and said, “Harper, this is our little secret.” Playing a video game on a Friday night was just his way of blowing off steam, and it never impacted his grades. I decided to keep quiet, pretending I’d never seen him there. That tiny incident showed me a glimpse of a different Logan Knox. So, at this moment, I was marginally calmer than Jessie. But she was still pressing me. “Think, think! Did he have a mole, a birthmark, any distinguishing feature?!” When I thought about that night, my face immediately went hot. “Uh… I was focused on the whipping…” 3 It wasn’t my fault. I genuinely stumbled into that world. That day, my scumbag boss had just made my life hell, and I was completely miserable. Then, I saw a random post in a group chat asking for a meet-up. The person’s avatar looked suspiciously like my boss’s profile picture. I was only looking for a stress release, and the person in the chat said I could hit them as hard as I wanted. I had a moment of pure madness and agreed. Sitting in the hotel room afterward, I was already regretting it. I was a boring, vegetarian girl with no experience in anything remotely like this. While the guy was showering, I grabbed my bag, intending to make a run for it. I hadn’t reached the door when he emerged. Maybe it’s a standard thing in the scene, but he was wearing a leather gag that covered most of his face. I didn’t see his expression, but I definitely saw his eight-pack abs. I nearly froze right there. The man tilted his head toward the door. My heart slammed against my ribs. Click. With a flash of pure panic, I hit the lights. I immediately regretted not wearing a mask. Look at him, so professional! The man paused, unfazed. He toweled off, then walked toward me. When he stopped in front of me, I could feel the lingering steam from his shower. “You like it dark?” His voice was a low rasp, his breath warm against my ear. I was so terrified I couldn’t speak. I was about to push him away and bolt when something was pressed into my hand. It was long, slick, and flexible. A whip. … Thinking back on what happened next, I feel terribly guilty. Once the whip was in my hand, I lost my mind. I was merciless. I saw my horrible boss standing there, and I did not hold back. Afterward, I noticed the bed frame was shaking. It might have been him, in pain. I was horrified and quickly asked, “Are you okay? I… I’m not experienced…” My fingers brushed his back, and his body tensed. The next second, my wrist was grabbed, and I heard him chuckle. “You have a hell of an arm.” The voice was slightly shaky. My mind went blank. “It doesn’t hurt?” “It feels amazing.” Ah. I had found a masochist. 4 And now, I was being told that this masochist might be my best friend’s brother… Hahahahaha. That was even weirder. Jessie was still urging me to remember. I tried to sound comforting. “It’s probably not Logan. He’s so buttoned-up, and his job is so official, he wouldn’t be into this stuff.” Jessie nodded. “You’re right.” “But how do you explain the red marks on his back?” I racked my brain. “Maybe… maybe he fell asleep studying and whipped himself to stay awake. You know, self-punishment?” Jessie just stared at me. Okay, even I knew that sounded ridiculous. I was about to change my story when she suddenly looked hopeful. “You know, that actually makes sense!” “My brother’s department does have a major qualification exam coming up…” “Phew! It can’t be Logan. Hahahaha, we were worried over nothing.” I offered a weak laugh and nodded along. … I left Jessie’s place and walked into the elevator, my legs nearly giving out. I grabbed the railing to steady myself, my mind replaying that night. The more I thought about it, the more I was eighty percent sure the man I met was Logan Knox. The voice, the body… it all matched! I stumbled out of the building, reaching for my phone to call a ride when a black SUV pulled up in front of me. The window lowered, revealing Logan’s perfect face. He looked surprised. “Harper? Leaving already?” I couldn’t meet his eyes, just offering a quick, disjointed nod. He smiled. “Heading home? I have a window of time, I can drop you off.” I immediately tried to refuse. “No, no, I’ll just call a cab.” “Cabs don’t stop easily here…” Just then, a car behind him honked impatiently. Logan checked his rearview mirror. “Hop in, you’ll cause a traffic jam.” The honking was grating. Rushed and flustered, I opened the passenger door and slid inside. Even after buckling my seatbelt, I still clung to a thread of hope. Logan wasn’t acting strangely at all. Maybe I had been wrong… “Excuse me, could you hand me a tissue?” I glanced around. “Where are they?” Logan replied, “In the canvas bag by your feet.” I didn’t think twice, reaching down to grab the bag. The bag wasn’t transparent and felt bulky. My hand rummaged inside for a few seconds before freezing. I had touched something long, slick, and flexible. My neck stiffened. I slowly looked down. Oh. It was a whip. Hahahahahahaha. I needed to get out of this car.”

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My boss chewed me out today. I worked late and dragged my exhausted body back to the home I share with Ethan. As soon as I opened the door, Ethan, sitting perfectly upright at his desk, didn’t even flinch. “Change your slippers. Take a shower.” I took a deep breath. Maybe it was the residual anger from my boss, maybe it was exhaustion, but I just snapped. Tears welled up, and instead of changing my slippers, I threw my bag on the floor and sprawled out on the sofa, shoes and all. “Ethan, let’s break up.” He didn’t even look up. “Looks like I’m throwing away the sofa cover tomorrow. And mopping the floor.” I gritted my teeth and enunciated every syllable. “Ethan. Let’s. Break. Up.” This was the sixth time in six months I’d brought it up. I admit I liked Ethan, and I didn’t want to leave him, but I was at my limit. It wasn’t just that he was a neat freak. It was that he was a neat freak about me. We’d been together for a year. Hand-holding happened exactly once. Kissing, hugging—all the normal couple stuff—non-existent. Why? Because Ethan is obsessed with cleanliness. Shaking hands with a friend means scrubbing his hands three times when he gets home. Even worse, we’ve lived together for two months, sleeping in separate rooms. I’m banned from his bedroom. The first thing I have to do when I get home is change slippers and shower. Even using the toilet requires a pre-wash with disinfectant and a post-wash scrub down. One time I got lazy and just flushed. Ethan replaced the entire toilet the next day. What a tragic life. What a tragic me. I knew with crystal clarity: Ethan didn’t love me. I wasn’t special to him, and I never would be. Ethan finally looked up. His eyes, usually so captivating, just glanced at me. I couldn’t read his emotions, only an eerie calm. “You sure?” My heart stuttered. He asked the same thing last time. Back then, I caved like a spineless jellyfish. How could you just let go of someone you like? But this time, no more compromises. If you don’t love me, why accept my confession? If you don’t want to touch me, why agree to live together? I didn’t want to live another second of this life. Being with Ethan felt like living with a stranger, walking on eggshells for a whole year. I wanted to come home and do nothing, just lie on the sofa and scroll through TikTok, not change slippers, shower, and constantly worry about contaminating his sanctuary. I wiped my tears and sat up. “I’m sure.” “I’ll pack my things and move out.” Ethan frowned, giving me a deep look, but ultimately didn’t ask me to stay. “Okay. Do you need me to call you an Uber?” I clutched my chest, taking a deep breath, chanting internally, Don’t get mad, don’t argue with idiots… I stormed into my room, packed my bags, and was ready to leave in a huff. But at the door, the more I thought about it, the more unreconciled I felt. Why was I the only one suffering while he remained unmoved? No way. He needs to suffer too. I can’t be the only one in pain. I dropped my suitcase and marched aggressively toward Ethan at his desk. He looked genuinely confused for once. “Sarah, what are you doing?” I didn’t explain. I just went for it. I grabbed his collar and kissed him. Then, out of spite, I bit his lip. Hard. And just to really drive the point home, I ran my hands all over his chest. Before he could react, I grabbed my suitcase and bolted. Behind me, I heard Ethan roar, “Sarah! Have you lost your mind?!” That was our first kiss. And our last. 1 News of my breakup with Ethan spread fast. After moving out, I met with a manager who had tried to poach me before. It was a multinational corporation. We negotiated salary and benefits, and I booked a flight out of this heartbreaking city without hesitation. Within a week at the new job, my past performance record earned me a spot in an overseas training program. I admit, I was running away. I didn’t want to see Ethan because I was afraid I’d cave again. Sitting on the plane, looking at the few non-intimate photos I had with Ethan, tears streamed down my face again. I deleted them all. Ethan, I’ll make you regret not cherishing me! Crying, I worried about ruining my expensive makeup, so I pulled out a mirror and dabbed at my tears… Six months later, I returned to the company, working hard for the boss. Gradually… the ache for Ethan faded. Time heals, or whatever. I was making coffee, bored, when footsteps approached. I didn’t turn around, but a man’s voice said, “Sarah, still working late?” I turned to see Liam, a new colleague in our department. He worked just as hard as I did. When he first started, I teased him, “Did you get dumped too?” He replied, “Yeah.” Shared misery builds bonds fast. We became closer than bros. I sipped my coffee. “Isn’t it obvious?” Liam laughed. “Careful you don’t go bald from stress.” I rolled my eyes. “Shut up.” Liam paused, then said, “Do me a favor tomorrow night?” “Nope.” Ding. Venmo notification: Liam sent you $800. I accepted it immediately and looked up. “I take it back. What’s the favor? Mountain of knives, sea of fire, consider it done.” Liam smirked. “Be my fake girlfriend.” I shamelessly countered, “Add another hundred.” Liam twitched his lips. “Deal.” The next night, I wore a killer red dress with a cinched waist and followed Liam into the party venue. I might not be a supermodel, but I’m definitely above average. Liam wouldn’t lose face. Liam greeted his friends enthusiastically, introducing me. Adhering to professional ethics, I held his arm, acting intimate. As the crowd thinned, my peripheral vision caught something, and my smile froze. Not because of anything else, but because I saw a figure I’d recognize even if he turned to ash. A figure I’d spent two years running from but never forgot. My eyes followed the man as he walked over, step by step. Ethan. Liam perked up when he saw Ethan. “Dr. Sterling! You finally made it. We’ve been waiting for you.” “This is my girlfriend, Sarah.” I twitched a smile awkwardly. Ethan’s gaze stayed fixed on me. Then I heard his deep voice. “Sa-rah? Your girlfriend?” The air temperature seemed to drop ten degrees. Probably just me. I swallowed. Sarah! What are you afraid of? You broke up! You have nothing to do with him! After a mental pep talk, I adjusted my posture, smiled, and extended my hand. “Hello, Dr. Sterling.” Ethan held his wine glass, making no move to shake my hand. I knew he wouldn’t. The severe germaphobe who washes his hands three times after a handshake wouldn’t touch his detestable ex. I still remember the shock on his face after I forced myself on him two years ago. His pristine white shirt rumpled, a bead of blood on his lip. Like a defiled saint. Thinking about it still gave me a thrill. Seeing Ethan stare at me without moving, Liam tried to pull my hand back to save the awkwardness. But the next second, Ethan reached out and grasped my hand. “Hello, Sarah.” I almost expected him to say, Long time no see, you awful ex. More shocking was that he actually shook my hand! Did he reform in the last two years? I laughed nervously and quickly pulled my hand back, grabbing Liam’s arm again. Liam laughed. “Didn’t expect the germaphobe Dr. Sterling to initiate a handshake. Big changes in a year. You almost look like a normal person…” Realizing that might have been rude, Liam quickly added, “No, no, I didn’t mean it like that, haha.” Ethan didn’t seem to care, didn’t even look at him. He stared at me and said, “It’s fine. You’re right.” Me: “Hehe… heh…” I don’t believe you. Ethan walked away after a few words. My curiosity was piqued. When we were alone, I whispered to Liam, “How do you know this Dr. Sterling? You never mentioned him.” Liam said, “Oh, a year ago I got into a car accident near his hospital. Ended up in the ER. He was disgusted by me because my wound had grease, my clothes had sand, and I was sweaty. I’m telling you, I could have woken up from a coma just from sheer anger.” “Later I found out he’s a severe germaphobe. Thought it was interesting, so I worked hard to befriend him.” I almost laughed out loud. “Then why did he come all this way for your party? Isn’t he busy?” Liam looked at me intently. “How do you know he’s busy?” I stumbled, then recovered. “Aren’t doctors always like that? Emergencies anytime.” Speaking of which, I remembered the bitterness. After confessing to Ethan and getting together, he was always busy. So busy we barely spoke some days. Most of the time, I just curled up on the sofa watching TV alone. A boyfriend in name only. And I stuck with it for a year. I admire my past self. Liam didn’t seem suspicious. “True. But he’s here on business for a few days. Heard it’s about a transfer. The provincial hospital invited him several times, but I guess he won’t come.” My heart skipped a beat. Transfer? Here? This would kill me. I ran away just to escape the city that held memories of him. Now he might move here? But if he refused several times, maybe it’s unlikely. Relieved, I listened as Liam leaned in mysteriously. “Why? You interested?” I rolled my eyes. “Would you be interested in a crazy person?” Liam thought about it. “Yeah. Probably only someone with similar issues would like Ethan.” Me: “?” I feel attacked. Liam got pulled away to drink, and I didn’t fit in. I drank too much and needed the restroom. Just outside the hall, I saw a back leaning against the railing. Suit and tie, but in my eyes, I saw him in a white coat, saving lives while complaining about patients being dirty. I couldn’t help but chuckle. Then I tried to sneak away. I didn’t know how to face him. But two steps later, a familiar voice called out, “Sarah, where are you running to this time?” Of course. When it rains, it pours. I took a deep breath and turned around calmly. “Oh, Dr. Sterling. We’re not that close, are we? Where I go is none of your business.” Ethan squinted and walked towards me aggressively. I felt the pressure. “Not close? Can’t I care about my ex-girlfriend?” Care. A word I never thought I’d hear from Ethan. I thought he never cared about anyone. I forced an awkward smile. “Dr. Sterling, you seem to forget, we broke up.” Ethan is tall, a head and a half taller than me. Looking straight ahead, I stared at his chest. Seeing his chest reminded me of that night two years ago. Same suit, white shirt, perfectly tied tie. Ascetic vibes. My inner voice screamed: Sarah! I knew you weren’t crazy, you just lusted after his body! “You’re Liam’s girlfriend?” I was stunned. He asked such a dumb question after introductions? “Yes.” “Break up with him. Don’t see him again.” I looked up in surprise. Those peach blossom eyes weren’t calm anymore. They held anger, maybe even jealousy. I got mad. “Are you sick? Get treatment if you are.” I turned to leave, not wanting to engage. The next second, Ethan grabbed my wrist and yanked me into his arms. His low voice rang in my ear. “Sarah, two years later, you’ve really got some nerve.” Then, he kissed my earlobe and bit it lightly. My brain exploded. Ethan is definitely sick today. Hugging me? Kissing me? “Ethan! Let go! What does this mean? I’ll sue you for harassment!” 2 My forehead vein throbbed. I coughed. “I told you I have a boyfriend.” Ethan laughed suddenly. “Boyfriend? Liam already confessed. Said you scammed him out of a thousand dollars.” Me: “…” Another familiar voice called out, “Sarah…” Liam walked out, closing the door behind him. “You know each other, don’t you?” Can’t hide it now. Have to admit it. “Yeah, he’s my… uh, somewhat abnormal ex-boyfriend.” I thought Liam would ask for gossip, but he looked at Ethan with hostility. “He was harassing you?” I nodded vigorously. Ethan squinted, looking pissed. Liam pulled me over and said to Ethan, “I consider you a friend, Ethan, but since you didn’t keep Sarah two years ago, why harass her now?” Very logical. But when I looked up and saw the loss flash in Ethan’s eyes, my heart clenched involuntarily. Then, Liam dragged me away right in front of Ethan. We didn’t go back to the party; he took me straight to his car. I was spaced out the whole way until Liam called my name. “Sarah, do you still like Ethan?” IneXplicably, I heard caution in his voice. I paused, staying silent. I couldn’t answer. The car was quiet. Finally, I heard a bitter laugh from Liam. He feigned lightness. “I get it. By the way, thanks for playing my girlfriend today. Can’t scam me anymore though. I’ll take you home.” I’m not a naive girl; I know what Liam’s subtle feelings meant. So I said, “I’m sorry.” “Don’t trouble yourself. I’ll take an Uber.” My tone was polite and distant. Liam watched me get out of the passenger seat but didn’t stop me. The car sat there for a minute before driving away. I Ubered home and sat on the sofa in a daze. Two years. I thought I had moved on. But seeing Ethan again, the walls I built crumbled instantly. Fragile beyond imagination. The more I thought, the sadder I got. I turned grief into appetite and ordered BBQ and fried chicken. I only drank at the party, so I was starving. Result? I ate myself into the hospital in the middle of the night. Gastritis. I realized that living alone for two years was comfortable. Coming home to do nothing, lying on the sofa, eating takeout, drinking soda. It took a toll on my stomach. Dazed, I remembered the year with Ethan. Even though he demanded perfection from me, he also knocked on my door every day to wake me up for food. Meals he cooked himself. Even if he critiqued me every time—Dropped rice, use serving spoons, don’t spill soup. His cleanliness was always the sharpest trait, overshadowing everything else. Just my luck, I ended up in the provincial hospital. Just my luck, I saw Ethan’s familiar face. It was the first time I saw him look panicked. A group of doctors followed him. Then he wheeled me away. I became his patient. I endured the stomach pain and asked, “You’re not a doctor here, why do you care?” Ethan said calmly, “I will be.” My heart died. I didn’t speak again. Ethan wiped my mouth with his gloved hand. I felt dread. Sure enough, he raised an eyebrow. “Fried chicken? Or BBQ?” “Shut up.” A nurse comforted me. “Don’t worry. Might need a gastroscopy. Tube down the throat or general anesthesia? Anesthesia requires a family member’s signature.” I panicked. I fear nothing but needles and surgeries. The thought of a tube down my throat terrified me. “Anesthesia. I want anesthesia.” The nurse nodded. “Okay, where’s your family?” I suddenly remembered. I’m an orphan. My parents died in a car crash my senior year of high school. Where would I find family? Ethan looked at me, then told the nurse, “Get the consent form. I’m her family. I’ll sign.” I looked at Ethan weirdly, but the pain made speaking impossible. One shot and I was out. When I woke up, I was in a ward with a nurse checking my IV. I swallowed dryly. “Nurse, where’s Dr. Sterling?” It was the same nurse. She looked down at me. “Dr. Sterling went back to his hospital. He starts here in two days.” I was dizzy. “He agreed to transfer?” The nurse tried not to laugh. “Yeah. His family is here, of course he transferred.” I twitched my lips. “I’m not his family.” The nurse looked skeptical. “But last night…” Me: “Can you expect a crazy person to say normal things?” Nurse: “…” Once the anesthesia wore off, I realized I had work. I fumbled for my phone. 10:30 AM. I collapsed back, unlocking my phone to explain to my manager. Ding, ding, ding. Messages flooded in. From my manager, sent at 9 AM: “Old Sarah, when did you get married?” “Hid it well.” “Since you’re sick, take the week off. Report back next week on time or say goodbye to your bonus.” I scrolled up. Last night, someone used my phone to make dozens of calls. The last one connected for two minutes. I could guess who did it with my toes. And I could guess what Ethan said. That afternoon, I grabbed my meds and snuck home, vowing to eat healthy. I planned it all out, then immediately failed, curling up on the sofa with takeout porridge and dramas. Bored, I scrolled through my phone. Someone left the work group chat. It was Liam. Then a text from him: I’m leaving, Sarah. Hope you and Dr. Sterling find happiness. 3 I sighed. Lost a good friend. But thinking about it, I really felt nothing for Liam. Even holding hands, it was calm. Compared to Ethan… I angrily thought about moving again. Move abroad. Never see Ethan again. I sent Liam a “Good luck,” but it failed to send. Red exclamation mark. One year of friendship, gone in an instant. I wondered if I could be like Liam, leaving without looking back. A notification sound brought me back. A familiar avatar—white coat, syringe in hand—sent a message. “Open the door.” I remembered blocking Ethan on everything two years ago. How did he pop up again? Must have unblocked himself last night. Angry, I sent a question mark. Ethan replied: “Open the door, Sarah.” Just four words, and I couldn’t even type a refusal. Before, Ethan either didn’t use my name or used my full name. First time calling me just “Sarah.” I remembered him holding me last night, whispering angrily, “Sarah, two years later, you’ve really got some nerve.” More messages. “I brought a lot of stuff.” “I saved your life last night.” “You wouldn’t be so heartless, right?” Guilt trip! Absolute guilt trip! Being grateful, I opened the door. He was holding a bag of groceries and a black plastic bag. That was it. I crossed my arms. “This is ‘a lot of stuff’?” Ethan didn’t speak, just stared behind me. I looked back and blushed. My apartment was a disaster zone. A pigsty compared to Ethan’s place. I suppressed my shame and glared. “What are you looking at? Oh, I forgot, Dr. Sterling is a neat freak. You probably don’t want to come in. Bye.” I tried to close the door, but Ethan’s nice hand blocked it. His tone was surprisingly soft. “It’s fine. Acceptable.” Sounded forced. Ethan pulled a pair of men’s slippers from the black bag, put them on, and walked in, closing the door himself. I muttered, “Ethan, did you actually become normal in two years?” Ethan ignored me, found the kitchen, and washed his hands three times. I realized I asked a pointless question. “Sarah, I thought you’d be living well after leaving me. Doesn’t look like it.” I sat on the sofa. “You came here to insult me?” Ethan dried his hands and walked over. “No. You forgot what I said yesterday. I said, let’s get back together.” Thinking of our year together, I felt bitter. “Ethan, do you know what you’re saying?” “Do you think I’m still the girl who loved you enough to tolerate being treated like a stranger for a year?” Silence. Then Ethan suddenly said, “But, you molested me when you ran away. You have to take responsibility.” The heavy atmosphere shattered. I found it childishly funny. Just a bite and a grope? Seriously? Still holding a grudge? I turned my head away. Ethan walked over, forced my face back to look at him. “Sarah, I’m sorry.” He said it seriously, reverently. “You were my first girlfriend. When you confessed, I didn’t refuse because I didn’t dislike you. I hadn’t been close to anyone growing up. I didn’t touch you because… partly, I didn’t know what to do. I never initiated closeness.” “The other part… we weren’t married.” Damn. Hand-holding, hugging, kissing required marriage? Ethan looked into my eyes and smiled. “Sarah, remember the first time you held my hand?” Memories flooded back. I remember. I’ll remember until I die. A year after graduating, I met Ethan, chased him for ages, and finally confessed with flowers, terrified of rejection. He said yes. I was so happy, I carefully reached for his hand. Before I could even warm it, he pulled away and asked, “Did… did you wash your hands?” I wanted to die. Maybe my passion was pricked by his avoidance. I felt rejected, head down. Now that I think about it, he stuttered. “Actually, if you looked up, you’d see I was blushing. I wasn’t disgusted, I was panicked. I used habitual phrases to hide it.” “Later I thought, if you initiated one more time, maybe I really couldn’t refuse.” I was stunned, blushing slightly. “Why tell me this now? It’s ancient history.” Ethan let go of my face, casually saying, “If you don’t want to hear it, fine. But I was wrong before. Now it’s my turn to initiate.” I sat frozen on the sofa, savoring his words. It felt like bitter turning to sweet. I never expected to hear this from Ethan. So I asked, “Why the sudden change?” Ethan stared at me with dark eyes. “After you molested me.” Me: “…” Proof that a leopard can’t change its spots: I watched Ethan, brow furrowed, put on gloves and clean my house until it sparkled. Then he cooked, just like when we lived together. I always knew Ethan was diligent. Maybe his neat freak nature wouldn’t allow a mess. He was frighteningly disciplined. I was the messy, undisciplined one. I cried internally, then walked over to the table full of delicious food. Just as I picked up my chopsticks, a glass of warm water and four pills appeared by my hand. Ethan frowned. “Take your medicine before eating.” My heart thumped. I took the pills. I watched his face while eating, afraid he’d say Dropped rice, use serving spoons… But he didn’t. Just ate silently. I believed Ethan had really changed. At least toward me. Halfway through, Ethan said, “Stop eating takeout. Bad for your stomach.” I hummed a long note, holding back a smile. “But I can’t cook.”

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On the eve of our engagement, my boyfriend suddenly regained his memory. I learned that before he lost his memory, he was an undercover cop. And he had a childhood sweetheart—a fiancée. She found me, crying like a wilted flower: “If he had returned safely from that mission, we would have been married.” “Please, give him back to me…” I was silent for a long time before whispering, “Okay.” Then I accepted a transfer from my company and moved to another city. Three years later, I was held at knifepoint on the street. He saved me, and just as I was about to slip away, he handcuffed my wrist. His voice was cold: “Planning to leave without saying goodbye again?” 1 It was evening, and the rain was pouring down. A sharp dagger pressed against my neck, bringing a damp, stinging pain. Behind me, a desperate criminal shouted, “Don’t move, or I’ll kill you!” That was the scene when I saw Luke again. He was wearing a crisp uniform, standing sideways to me, talking to his colleagues. Rainwater dripped down his jawline, making his expression even sterner. A moment later, he began negotiating with the man holding me hostage: “What are your demands? State them.” The criminal’s face was twisted, his voice distorted: “I want a wife! You guys give me a wife, make her give me a son!” Of course, that was impossible. The rain fell harder. Negotiators came and went. Someone must have said the wrong thing. The criminal suddenly snapped. He gripped the knife handle tight and screamed, “Since I can’t have a wife anyway, taking a pretty woman down with me isn’t a loss!” The sharp blade cut into my skin. Severe pain and the terror of imminent death filled my heart in an instant. The next second—bang. A bullet cut through the dense rain and struck the criminal’s forehead. When Luke lowered his gun and strode towards me, I was already clutching the wound on my neck, staggering up from the ground. Due to blood loss, my vision went black in patches. I stumbled forward two steps. And fainted into Luke’s arms. I woke up in the hospital. The wound on my neck was bandaged, but the pain was still sharp. Luke stood by the bed, his hair soaked from the rain, still dripping water. I spoke with a raspy voice: “The little girl I swapped with…” “She’s fine. Her mother is protecting her well.” Luke stared at me deeply. “That man had a knife. Even if you wanted to save someone, you shouldn’t have put yourself in danger.” I curled my lips into a smile, but it quickly disappeared as the wound pulled. “Sorry about that. But protecting the weak is human nature. That’s what you taught me, Officer Sterling.” 2 This hostage situation had nothing to do with me originally. I was just on my way home from work when I saw the little girl with a knife to her neck. The criminal was kissing the top of her head and shoulder frantically. She was crying in terror. I suddenly thought of Luke. Three years ago, before we broke up. He saved a little boy and got hit by a falling billboard, injuring his back. It took six stitches. In the hospital, I was so worried I almost cried, poking his forehead and scolding him: “Next time you save someone, can you ensure your own safety first?!” He sat under the light, looking up at me. His lips were pale from blood loss. But when he smiled, there was still light in his eyes: “Protecting the weak is human nature.” I, who had always been selfish, suddenly choked up. I couldn’t say a word. He held my hand and looked seriously into my eyes: “But getting hurt and making you worry was my fault.” “I’m sorry, Sarah.” How much Luke and I loved each other then was matched only by how messy our breakup was later. Because a few months later, his childhood sweetheart, Emily, suddenly showed up. I learned that Luke was an undercover cop. His identity was exposed during a mission. After being tortured nearly to death, he managed to escape. But due to severe injuries, he lost his memory. “While he was with you these past two years, I’ve been looking for him.” Emily sobbed in front of me. “Please, give him back to me…” She showed me many things. Photos, gifts, rings. It was her past with Luke, twenty years of intimacy. So, I ran away. 3 On the day I was discharged, Luke and a young cop came to pick me up. He sat in the back seat with me, looking serious. I touched the gauze on my neck, trying to lighten the mood: “People might think I committed a crime, leaving the hospital in a police car.” Luke kept a straight face, his tone flat: “No, just going to give a statement.” The young cop took my joke seriously and quickly comforted me: “How could that be, Miss Miller? You disregarded your own safety to save someone. The bureau is discussing giving you an award for bravery!” “Just an award, no reward?” I hooked the corner of my lip. “Like rewarding me with a young, handsome cop as a boyfriend or something.” In the rearview mirror, the young cop’s ears turned red. He stammered, “Well, we…” Before he could finish, Luke interrupted. He said coldly, “Focus on driving. Don’t get distracted.” “Yes, Captain Sterling.” I lowered my eyes and said nothing more. After giving my statement, it was already noon. Because another case came up suddenly, Luke went out to handle it. I was warmly escorted to the door by others, ready to leave. I ran right into a very familiar face. Emily. She was wearing a white dress, dressed gently, holding a lunch box. Her quiet smile vanished the moment she saw me. Others greeted her: “Miss Emily, here to bring lunch to Captain Sterling again?” “Captain Sterling is so lucky. Unlike us, coming back late from missions to cold food.” “Are wedding bells ringing soon?” She lowered her head as if shy: “We’re getting married soon. I’ll send invitations to everyone then.” A fog-like emotion rose in my heart. I pursed my lips and walked out quickly. But Emily chased after me. “Sarah Miller.” She blocked my path, looking unhappy: “You promised you would give Luke back to me.” “Are you going back on your word now because he got promoted to Captain?” “I’m not going back on my word.” I said indifferently, “I wish you and Luke a happy life together.” She smiled with satisfaction: “Thank you.” 4 On the way back, the taxi stopped at a red light. I looked out the window. A girl fell, and her boyfriend picked her up, holding her tightly in his arms. Tears fell without warning. Just one drop, and I wiped it away. I suddenly thought of when I had known Luke for seven months. He rejected my third confession, saying he had lost his memory, his identity was unknown, and he couldn’t give me happiness. But he still accompanied me home to pack my things. Halfway through packing, my stepfather came back. Reeking of alcohol, just like many times in the past, he cursed and lunged at me. I tried to kick him away, but he choked me and slapped me. Luke, who was fixing my wardrobe in the inner room, heard the noise and strode out. He grabbed my stepfather by the collar, dragged him off me, and punched him hard several times. I lay on my back on the floor, staring blankly at the ceiling. My vision was blurry; I couldn’t even see Luke’s face clearly. “Sarah.” He called me, “Sarah Miller!” I curled my lips slightly: “Ten years. The first time someone saved me, Luke.” His expression was indescribably sad. He picked me up from the floor and walked out the door. “Don’t look back. Don’t look.” He covered my eyes. “You don’t need to come back to this dangerous place. I’ll handle it for you.” “Sarah Miller, I accept your confession.”

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My sister and I both bound with a “Life Upgrade System” on the same day. She poured all her skill points into “Beauty,” becoming a stunning, brainless bombshell who dominated Hollywood. I, on the other hand, dumped all my points into “Intellect.” By twenty, I was recruited by the government for a top-secret research project, cutting off all contact with the outside world. When the project ended and I finally reconnected with civilization, I found my sister had become public enemy number one. She was blacklisted, slandered, and labeled a homewrecker. Meanwhile, her boyfriend, the billionaire heir of the Sterling family, posted a single tweet: [Don’t know her. Stop associating me with trash.] Me: “???” If you don’t know her, then who was the idiot standing under our balcony in high school, begging for just one look? 1 My sister, Bella, and I bound with the System on the same day. The System’s original intent was to make us compete. A classic sibling rivalry arc. But Bella and I looked at each other and silently agreed to pick different lanes. She loved makeup and fashion, so she exchanged all her hard-earned points for Beauty. She became the school’s unrivaled beauty queen—stunning, but academically average. I loved reading, so I maxed out Intellect. From then on, I absorbed knowledge like a sponge, becoming a legendary academic prodigy. The System wasn’t having it. It issued a joint mission: [Capture the heart of Campus King, Julian Sterling. Reward: Massive points + 10 attribute points from the loser.] I forfeited immediately. “Dating affects my GPA. I’m out. Good luck, sis!” To my surprise, Bella forfeited too. “I don’t like dating strangers. I’m out too.” The System crashed. [Are you two crazy?! That’s Julian Sterling! The heir to the Sterling Empire! Marry him and you’re set for life! I’m giving you a golden opportunity, and you refuse?!] It was furious. Bella and I just smiled. She went back to her acting classes; I went back to my calculus. If the System knew us at all, it would know we were inseparable since the womb. When Bella got the umbilical cord wrapped around her neck, I kicked and punched until mom went to the hospital, saving her life. When I choked on a grape, Bella screamed and heimliched me until I coughed it up. When Bella was cornered by bullies, I sensed the danger from blocks away and led a rescue team to save her. And when I got a leg cramp in the deep end of the pool, Bella jumped in to save me, nearly drowning herself in the process. On the pool deck, I cried and called her an idiot. She laughed, “If we die, we die together. Same birthday, same death day. Romantic, right?” I laughed through my tears. “Romantic my ass. Living is better.” If the System knew this, it would know we’d never turn on each other. It wasted its time binding us. But we didn’t say that. Occasionally, to keep the System from unbinding us (and taking away our perks), we’d stage a little drama to feed its ego. But actually seducing a man? Forget it. I chase who I like. I won’t let a computer tell me who to love. Bella felt the same. So, the System just stewed in its anger. Since we had “Perfect Performance” immunity cards from previous tasks, it couldn’t punish us. However, Julian Sterling made a move. He took an interest in Bella. He started strutting in front of her with his entourage of rich kids, looking like a peacock. Julian was admittedly handsome—deep features, a gaze that looked affectionate even when he was bored. Very deceptive. But Bella took one look and walked away. She whispered to me, “Looks a bit dim. I’m not smart, so I need a guy with brains to balance the gene pool.” Understood. Supply and demand. Just like me—I like pretty people. I have infinite patience for beauty. I can explain a math problem five times to the handsome class monitor, but twice to anyone else makes me want to scream. Bella’s comment somehow reached Julian’s ears. He blocked Bella in the hallway. “Bella Vance, how smart do you want?” 2 Bella looked at him in surprise. Julian turned his head, but his ears were turning red. “Heard you like smart guys.” So that’s it. Bella smiled. “Yes.” “If I get first place in the grade, you date me.” “My sister is first place. You can’t beat her.” Julian froze, then scoffed arrogantly. “Watch me.” That night, Bella told me about it, laughing. “I didn’t know Julian could blush. He’s kind of pure.” According to the System’s data, the Sterling heir had a reputation as a playboy, but was actually inexperienced. But reputations aren’t baseless. I whispered, “The System’s recommendations are trash. Don’t take it seriously. Focus on getting into a good college.” Suddenly, the System, missing for days, came online. [Chloe Vance!!! Talking smack behind my back? That’s it. Punishment time!] It blocked my access to the System interface. Coincidentally, I went away for a math Olympiad camp where phones were banned. I was blind to what was happening with Bella. When I returned, monthly exams were over. Julian Sterling had broken into the top 100. A massive improvement. Bella said, “Wow, he actually has a brain.” I felt a twinge of unease. Things were going off-script. I pulled out a piece of paper and started drawing diagrams to deprogram Bella. “Julian looks okay, but compare him to who? Our school has 600 seniors. The city has 50,000. The country has millions. His rank is mediocre at best.” “Even if he’s smart, the fact that he could do well but didn’t until now shows a lack of discipline, goals, and self-management.” “He only tries for things he wants in the moment. He’s impulsive, arrogant, and doesn’t listen to advice.” “The saddest thing isn’t lacking talent; it’s wasting it. A person who doesn’t cherish themselves won’t cherish you.” “His family has immense resources. He could be leagues ahead, but he’s just average. That shows low IQ and EQ in utilizing resources.” “And you, Bella… you’re a solid 9/10 beauty nationwide. You worked hard for this. I want you to look long-term. Don’t get distracted by roadside flowers.” “Even if you date, aim for someone as excellent as you. Being beautiful is an asset, but it also attracts predators. If you aren’t strong enough, pick a safer path.” Bella started crying. “Chloe, your brain is so sexy. I regret putting all my points into beauty.” Aw, a crying beauty is still beautiful. I wiped her tears. I regretted not putting a few points into beauty myself. Now, the only way to get points was to steal them from each other, which we wouldn’t do. Bella went back to treating Julian like air. She focused on her acting and cramming for exams. After being ignored repeatedly, Julian got desperate. 3 On New Year’s Day, the school held a talent show. Bella shone on stage. Outside, Julian hijacked the massive LED screen on the skyscraper opposite the school. “BELLA VANCE, I LIKE YOU. WHETHER YOU LIKE ME OR NOT, I LIKE YOU.” The whole school cheered. People stopped to stare, envious of the grand gesture. Bella turned pale. She grabbed my hand tight. “Chloe, he’s crazy. I’m scared.” Fear is the correct response. Not every girl wants a public confession, especially from someone she barely knows. Using her photo without permission? Taking creepy candid shots? That’s illegal, you dog. I recorded evidence, called the police, and contacted the building’s property management to take it down. Then I called Julian’s homeroom teacher to report him, and dragged Bella to the Dean’s office to cry. Bella couldn’t cry, so I pinched her arm. Tears welled up instantly. “I don’t know him! He tried to pursue me, and I said no. We haven’t spoken ten sentences!” “He made everyone know! He’s obsessed! I’m scared he’ll stalk me or take revenge!” “I need to study for college! How can I focus when everyone is staring at me?” “I’m already dumb! I just made a little progress! What do I do now? Waaaaah!” She cried miserably. I wanted to knife that man. The Dean was heartbroken. He started making calls furiously. Soon, Julian arrived, along with his mother. The police, teachers, ad agency reps, and lawyers filled the room. My “Big Brother,” Arthur, arrived too. The adults argued. We were left on the sidelines. Julian, scolded by his mom, looked wilted. He glared at me, then looked at Bella with deep sorrow. “Bella, I just wanted to show you how much I like you. No malice. Do you hate me that much?” Bella had a belly full of words but lacked the vocabulary and logic to express them. She used the simplest words. “I don’t like you. And I don’t like being watched like this.” “But you want to be a star! Stars are watched.” “That’s different.” “It’s the same.” “It’s different!” Bella glared at him. Julian laughed. “Bella, you’re so cute.” Me: ??? This turned him on? I said coldly, “The two types of attention are different. If you can’t tell the difference, your brain really is broken.” “One is attention earned through hard work and talent—admiration, respect, becoming someone’s inspiration.” “The other is attention because she’s a woman, because she’s pretty, because she fits your male gaze. That’s objectification. That’s lust.” “How dare you think they are the same?” Brain damage confirmed. 4 “Chloe Vance!” Julian snapped. “Nobody thinks you’re mute if you don’t speak.” “If you didn’t do stupid things, I might treat you like a human.” Julian stood up, furious. “Chloe, you’re just jealous because you’re ugly and no one likes you! You don’t want your sister to be liked either! You’re vicious!” I raised an eyebrow, ready to retort. But Bella jumped up. “Don’t you dare slander my sister! Her IQ is ten times yours!” I felt warm. She protected me. But also… ouch. She didn’t deny I was ugly. I stood behind Bella, backing her up. “You lack brains and class. But you’ll learn the difference between the two types of attention soon enough.” I whispered to Arthur. He nodded deeply. The negotiation concluded. Julian had to apologize, pay damages, and write a public self-criticism. Julian didn’t care. To him, a public apology was just another chance to look cool on stage. However, when he realized the apology included putting his face and apology letter on the same giant LED screen… he exploded. “I refuse! Absolutely not! I won’t lose face like that!” The Dean said, “Then it’s expulsion.” Mrs. Sterling said coldly, “We accept.” Julian was shocked. “Mom…” Mrs. Sterling: “Shut up.” It was settled. Before leaving, Mrs. Sterling looked at me with a meaningful smile. “Little girl, thank you for teaching my son a lesson. I look forward to your future. If you come to the capital for college, look me up.” She left with Julian, looking every bit the queen. I watched her back. Bella said, “His mom seems nice.” I said, “That’s because Arthur is here. And she’s using us as a whetstone to sharpen Julian.” “Whetstone? Does his family have a throne to inherit…” Bella stopped. Because the Sterling family did have a throne. Arthur said, “Let’s go home.” Back home, Arthur sat us down. “Are you happy at this school? Should we transfer?” Six months to graduation. Transferring is bad. I asked, “Because of the Sterlings?” Arthur shook his head. “This isn’t the capital. Their reach is limited here.” This was the Sterling ancestral home. Julian was sent here because he was too wild in the city. I asked, “Then why?” Arthur looked at us sincerely. “Chloe, if you’re unhappy, tell me. I’ll help. Don’t worry about burdening me.” He was sincere. Arthur was a student my mom sponsored. After becoming a successful lawyer, he sought out his benefactor, only to find she had passed, leaving two orphan daughters. He took over our guardianship. He was good to us. But he knew we tried not to trouble him. I smiled. “Brother Arthur, we’re grown up. The school is fine. Don’t worry.” Arthur opened his mouth, then just said, “Good. Tell me if anything happens.” He cooked us a feast for New Year’s Eve. We watched the countdown together. He left after midnight. Lying in bed, Bella said, “Brother Arthur has something on his mind.” “He’s a lawyer. Heavy cases.” Bella nudged me. “You’re so dull. I mean personal stuff. I’m not smart, but I read people. He’s hiding something.” What could Arthur be hiding? His career was smooth. Except for us two burdens, his future was bright. I didn’t realize then that success brings opportunities. Arthur had received an offer from a top firm in the capital. He wanted to go, but refused because of us.

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When it came to the arranged marriage for our family merger, I picked the only doctor in a sea of billionaire heirs. But after the wedding, I realized he was basically that one overworked doctor friend in every romance novel who gets called at 3 AM to treat the female lead. After witnessing it firsthand several times, I gave up on trying to develop feelings for him. I mean, who knows if I’ll end up having to fight his billionaire friends for his attention? But what I didn’t expect was… he could read my mind. 1 For people like us, we always knew the day of the arranged marriage would come. It’s fine. After enjoying so many privileges, it’s normal to pay a price. I was lucky enough to choose my own partner—from a pool of heirs in our social circle. Honestly, it didn’t matter who it was. Everyone knows these marriages are just for show, a business transaction between two families. But since I had a choice, I wanted someone relatively normal. According to my intel: One guy was entangled with his first love abroad. Pass. Another was playing a game of “she runs, he chases” with his sugar baby. Pass. Another just started sponsoring a D-list actress. Hard pass. After filtering through the trash, I thought of Julian Sterling. My impression of him was limited: gentle, reserved, expensive. His name sounded like a standard CEO, but he was the only one in the group who wasn’t a corporate shark. Julian was a doctor. A genuine academic who got into Johns Hopkins Medical School on his own merit and completed his MD/PhD. He fit the image perfectly: soft-spoken, polite, clean-cut. Every time I saw him, he was in light-colored suits. With the doctor filter, he seemed almost saintly. Our engagement went smoothly. Our parents hit it off immediately. I heard Julian agreed without hesitation too. So, within a month, I went from single since birth to a married woman. On our wedding day, I moved into the house he bought. Beige decor, very him. Julian gave me a tour, then led me to the master bedroom door. His voice was warm. “I know this is an arranged marriage, but I don’t want it to be just a formality. I hope we can take it slow, get to know each other, and build a relationship.” He pointed to the guest room opposite. “I’ll sleep there. Don’t be nervous. I won’t force anything until we’re both ready.” I went into my room and closed the door. Honestly, he was better than I expected. I always assumed that even without scandals, birds of a feather flock together. His friends all had “CEO Syndrome”—keeping mistresses, dramatic relationships. Although he seemed different, I didn’t have high hopes. I just wanted a peaceful coexistence. As long as no one caused a scene in front of me, I wouldn’t meddle in his private life. Two months flew by. One night, after a shower, I lay in bed looking at a skimpy nightgown I’d bought. My heart started racing. Julian might be a gentleman with no impure thoughts. But I wasn’t! Single for twenty-something years, barely held a man’s hand, but my mind was full of yellow trash. With a legitimate, incredibly handsome husband right there, why live like a nun? Plus, over the last two months, he came home at 6 PM sharp every day. We had cozy dinners, leisurely weekend shopping trips. He waited while I got my nails and hair done, and watched trashy soap operas with me on the couch. I had to admit, I was catching feelings. 2 One day, while shopping with friends, I checked my phone: 5:30 PM. My first thought was, Time to go home. I paused, then felt a wave of complex emotions. I realized I truly considered that house my home. I felt a sense of belonging I never expected. Having seen the chaos in our circle—including my own parents’ messes with lovers showing up or secret children appearing—I thought I had given up on love and family. But the power of a slow burn surprised me. Thinking about my time with Julian and what I knew of his character, I gained the confidence to gamble once. Maybe trusting someone, trusting love, could lead to a good result? Julian’s parents were a rare example of a loving couple in our circle. Raised by them, Julian’s character should be trustworthy, right? Even if it’s a trap, maybe everyone has to walk through it once. I changed into a black lace nightgown, tiptoed to Julian’s door, struck the most flattering pose I learned online, and knocked lightly. The door opened. Julian froze. He looked around blankly, finding nothing to cover me with, and gave up. After a few moments of eye contact, his gaze darkened. He asked slowly, “Chloe, are you sure?” Upon my confirmation, he picked me up. The room was dim, lit only by a warm bedside lamp. I felt my temperature rising, my brain turning to mush. Head tilted, I saw the pristine white sheets and thought inappropriately, Those are going to be hard to clean. I never found out. Just as Julian loosened his tie, his phone rang. He took a few deep breaths, exhaling hot air, braced one hand by my ear, and grabbed his phone. “Dr. Sterling, Mr. Vance drank too much and is in severe pain. Can you come take a look?” The anxious male voice on the other end sounded familiar—like an assistant to one of the CEOs. Julian paused. His voice was incredibly hoarse. “I know. Wait a moment.” I snapped out of my haze, grabbing his half-removed shirt. With mixed emotions, I murmured, “Don’t go!” Julian met my gaze, then lowered his head to coax me gently. “Be good. I’ll go check on him.” Watching him dress to leave, anger flared. I stared at his back, cursing internally: “Be good~ I’ll go check~ Heh, who knows if he’s checking on a bro or a babe.” He paused, stuttered in his movements, and turned to look at me with a complicated expression. “What?” I asked. He shook his head and continued dressing. I continued my internal monologue: “Go, go. Who can stop you? You’re the savior. Ambulances are useless, hospitals are useless. You have magic powers; only you can save him…” After venting, I felt better. I thought I saw him stumble on his way out, but maybe I imagined it. He was known for being unflappable. Before closing the door, he said, “Chloe, I’ll be back soon.” I fell asleep waiting. When I woke up, he was sleeping next to me, back in last night’s pajamas. It made me even angrier. What kind of man changes clothes and leaves in that situation?! I angrily bit into my toast. Julian appeared from somewhere. Seeing my expression, he chuckled softly, hugged me from behind, and whispered in my ear, “Sorry. Liam Vance is in big trouble lately. He had a gastric bleed recently, so I was worried and went to check.” It happened; I didn’t want to dwell on it. However, after he went to work, I watched a CEO drama on TV. The plot reached the point where the female lead got hurt while running away, and the male lead called his doctor friend to treat her. Epiphany struck. Every CEO novel I’d read flooded my brain. Wait, isn’t Julian exactly like that miserable doctor friend who always gets called at midnight? We have tons of CEOs around us. Gastric bleeds. Doctor friend. Midnight calls. Bingo. Imagining Julian being summoned by this CEO today and that CEO tomorrow, treated like a tool, looking like a dusty puppy… I couldn’t help but laugh. That night, I made no move, but Julian knocked on my door. Hair styled, faint cologne. His eyes smiled as they landed on me. “Can you take me in tonight?” 3 I raised an eyebrow. “What? No one needs a checkup tonight?” He didn’t speak. He cupped my face and lowered his head for a kiss, gently nibbling. With last night’s experience, things went smoother. Until he took off his shirt. We both froze, terrified of a phone call. We looked at the phone simultaneously, then at each other, and almost burst out laughing. He leaned in, voice unable to hide his amusement. “I won’t leave tonight.” My face flushed red. Whatever. He made it sound like I was desperate. … That night reminded me of a saying: Don’t judge a book by its cover. Julian was a good man. Objectively speaking. At work, he was dedicated to researching cures for terminal illnesses. He had a great temper, was filial to his parents, sincere to friends, and consistently caring toward me. However, being too good had its downsides. It wasn’t the first time a friend called during our anniversary or a planned trip. Not often, but always catching us off guard. The assistants’ voices were always trembling and pitiful. Sometimes a CEO drank until his stomach bled. Sometimes a forced-love scenario left someone physically collapsed. What could I do? They made it sound life-threatening. Even though I wondered: Is calling an ambulance that hard? Does it have to be Julian? I laughed about him being a tool in a novel, but this was reality. Not calling the police or going to a hospital was ridiculous. Even though he always rushed back as soon as possible. The mood was ruined. The excitement was gone. Today was our first wedding anniversary. Last night, I specifically told Julian I didn’t want any disturbances today. His lab work had made progress recently, and he’d been working late. We finally had a leisurely grocery trip together. For my birthday, Julian came home early and cooked. It shocked me. It tasted as good as our family chef’s cooking, and every dish was my favorite. When we first got together, we made a big deal of every holiday. Now, for our anniversary, we just wanted to shop and cook a cozy dinner. I sat at the table watching Julian busy in the kitchen, feeling a bit dazed. A year ago, I never would have imagined my married life would be like this. Not fiery, but warm. I walked over and hugged his waist from behind. He laughed and was about to speak. The phone rang. I pressed my lips together. After a year, I had PTSD from his ringtone. I pressed my ear against his back. On the phone, another assistant, voice anxious: “Dr. Sterling, please come quickly…” Anger surged. I bit my lip, snatched the phone, and asked genuinely, “Can you not call an ambulance? Can you not drive him to the hospital?” Silence on the other end. I hung up, still angry. “That was Noah’s assistant, right? I recognize the voice. Do you really believe Noah, that playboy, is drinking himself to death over a woman?!” Julian frowned, hesitating. “I heard he really likes someone recently…” “The people he’s liked over the years wouldn’t fit in a bus!” I gritted my teeth. “Anyway, if you go, let’s stop talking about feelings. Your bros are clearly more important. Just live with your bros.” He left anyway. 4 Even though he coaxed me gently, “I’ll just take a look. I’ll be back in the time it takes you to watch one episode, okay?” I was disappointed. My heart sank. Compared to others’ dramatic loves, our journey was too smooth, too plain. My only complaint was wishing the CEOs would grow up and stop dragging Julian into their messes. I had thought about it. Even though my “rivals” were these unexpected men. Julian’s attitude mattered. I’d heard rumors in our circle that some of these illnesses were fake. Tricks to win sympathy or fool the board. They were lies. Even I could tell the difference now. I didn’t believe Julian couldn’t. I’m not smart, and I hate trouble. My solution to difficult things is acceptance or avoidance. Like the arranged marriage. Who wants to marry a stranger? But I couldn’t resist. And honestly, I couldn’t give up my luxurious life. So I accepted it. Simplest way. Julian was nice. We got along. As a political marriage partner, he was perfect. I didn’t care when he was home or if his friends called him away. But as a lover? I couldn’t accept fighting his friends for him. I didn’t want to live in fear of a ringtone. My words weren’t just out of spite. I had decided. If this happened again—if he left knowing it was likely fake—then forget it. We could just be a business couple. Simple. Julian panicked on the drive. Since the wedding day, he could inexplicably hear Chloe’s thoughts. He usually knew her reactions. But when he left just now, he heard nothing. Silence. He sped up, wanting to check on Noah and get home. At the bar, Julian found Noah drinking and flirting, perfectly fine. Julian gritted his teeth and turned to leave. He’d seen Noah act dramatic over love before. That’s why he came, worried it might be real, even angering Chloe. Noah saw him and had his assistant block him. Noah lounged on the sofa, smiling lazily. “No way, Julian. Leaving before you sit?” Julian frowned, eyes cold. “Noah, you know the story of the boy who cried wolf. Don’t call me again.” “Don’t be like that. It’s hard to get you out since you got married. Is the wife… strict?” Noah didn’t care, still slouching. Julian glared. Noah straightened up. Julian was known for his temper—good until you crossed a line. This was the first time Noah saw him this serious. Silence. Julian pushed past the assistant. “She is my wife. Don’t talk about her like that.” After he left, the assistant hesitated. “Actually, when I called, Dr. Sterling’s wife seemed to know it was fake and didn’t want him to come.” Noah felt a pang of guilt. So Julian fought with his wife for him? The assistant continued, “Today seems to be their anniversary.” In the dark corner, Noah put down his glass. “Damn. I really am a piece of sh*t.” When Julian returned, I was in the living room. Normal. He tried to hug me. I dodged. He looked at me with puppy dog eyes, using his beauty against me. I ignored it. After dinner, I stopped him before he showered. I pointed to the guest room. “I had it cleaned. Since it’s a family alliance, no need for intimacy. We just need to keep up appearances.” I raised a brow. “If that room is too small, I can move there. You take the master. You bought the house, after all.” I closed the door, shutting him out. I didn’t want to see his face. I was afraid I’d soften. Back in my room, I exhaled. Seeing him affected me too much. So, I shouldn’t see him. I never knew I had such executive function. I booked a ticket and packed that night. The next morning, I sneaked out early with my luggage.

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My brother, Jason, the ultimate second-lead character, somehow married the Sterling family’s princess, Sophie Sterling. At their wedding, I fell in love at first sight with Sophie’s brother, the head of the Sterling empire, Liam Sterling. With my unparalleled “simp” skills, I successfully infiltrated the family and married Liam. The story should have ended there, with my brother and me living happily ever after. But the good days didn’t last. Sophie’s first love returned from abroad, and she started acting distracted, coming home late with red eyes. My brother’s head was practically glowing green. Meanwhile, Liam’s “one that got away,” his first love, also returned for medical treatment. Liam stared at me every day with a gaze that made my skin crawl. Having read hundreds of “regretful husband chasing cremated wife” novels, I deduced he was eyeing my kidney. On a dark and stormy night, my brother and I looked at each other. “Where’s Sophie?” “Where’s Liam?” “Sigh…” We both sighed in unison. “Bro, for the sake of my kidney, I have to go. Stay strong.” “Let’s go together. As long as I run fast enough, the green hat can’t catch me.” 1 Jason and I exchanged a look, seeing the same excitement in each other’s eyes. “When do we leave?” My brother is five years older than me. Since we were kids, he’s led me into trouble, and every time, we’d run away from home together. Our record was when he was 8 and I was 3. We survived on the streets for a week purely on his sweet-talking skills. If Mom and Dad hadn’t caught us, we might have started a new life in another city. After getting dragged home, he got beaten so bad he couldn’t leave his bed for a month. Nobody knows how to run away better than Jason. “No time like the present. I heard Liam’s first love is in critical condition. He hasn’t been home in two days.” “Hmph. I heard Sophie’s ex’s company has cash flow problems. She’s been camped out at his office for three days.” “Let’s go!” We nodded at each other. “Let’s go.” My voice was firm and high-pitched. After careful planning, I decided to fake my death. The Sterling family business is huge; they have plenty of enemies. Plus, Liam is busy taking care of his first love. By the time he realizes I’m gone, my “body” will be cold. As for my brother, after handling my funeral, he’ll be “distraught,” go for a hike to clear his mind, fall off a cliff, and vanish without a trace. A perfect plan. We went to our respective homes. The night was long, perfect for thieves. First, the bank cards and IDs. Then, I started looting the valuables. Emerald necklace? Mine. Pigeon-egg pink diamond? Taking it. Designer bags? Strapped on. … I swept the five-story villa clean. Five 24-inch suitcases filled to the brim. The only thing left was a mess on the floor. 2 Creaaaak. The door opened. Liam Sterling walked in with his long legs. But two steps in, he tripped over the trash I left on the floor and face-planted. “Hahahahahaha!” I couldn’t help it. After chasing him for a year and being married for six months, this was the first time I’d seen the dignified Liam Sterling embarrass himself. Seeing this before I “died” was worth it. Liam stood up, frowning deeply at the mess, but asked patiently, “Chloe, what happened here?” I was too busy laughing and forgot my excuse. My brain spun fast. “You don’t know, my college frenemy came over. She said our decor looked like nouveau riche trash. I got mad, and everything looked ugly, so I… did this.” “You won’t be mad, right?” I asked, lacking confidence. Even I thought it was a stretch. “If you don’t like it, change it.” “Huh?!” Although we never fought, his attitude was always polite and distant. I didn’t think he’d let me be this destructive. Maybe guilt from spending days with his first love? Yes, must be. “What are you thinking about so deeply?” Liam pulled me into his arms. “But is this the friend who used to steal your boba tea?” “I don’t want to interfere with your friends, but maybe don’t hang out with people like that.” “Oh, oh, okay.” I nodded perfunctorily. Weird. How did he know about the boba thief? He was mumbling a lot today, unlike his usual cool self. Must be a guilty conscience covering up his cheating heart. Liam stared at me, his gaze deep and hot. I couldn’t handle it. Is it not guilt? Does he actually… “Forget it. I’ll have my secretary transfer you five million tomorrow. Renovate however you want. It’s my fault for not asking your opinion when we decorated.” If you’re talking money, I’m wide awake. “Okay, okay, okay!” Struck dizzy by the windfall, I hugged Liam and kissed him fiercely. Normally, I’d be reserved. Liam was cold, and we barely touched. But I was leaving anyway. Why waste a hot guy? Thinking he’d belong to someone else soon made me sad. It was July. Under his slightly sweat-dampened shirt, I could feel his chest muscles. Below that, the eight-pack abs I knew were prime real estate. With a “YOLO” mindset, I intensified my attack, pinning Liam on the sofa I hadn’t packed yet. I kissed him wildly, hands roaming without technique, all passion. I had demanded no maids in the house so we could be free. But after marriage, we barely touched. I was running away. I had to get my fill. Liam ignited under my enthusiasm, flipping us over and pinning me down. His hands roamed, hotter than ever. Just then, his phone rang. I heard the voice: “Miss White’s condition worsened. She’s crying for you.” Hearing his precious Bella White was in trouble, Liam immediately got off me. His brow furrowed tight enough to crush a fly. So worried. He hung up and kissed my forehead. “I have to go out. Wait for me at home.” Hormones clouding my judgment, I tried to keep him. “Can you not go?” “It’s important. I’ll be back soon. Be good.” “What’s more important than me?” I was unwilling to give up, trying to compete with the white moonlight. I hugged his waist. “I don’t care. Don’t go.” “Chloe, don’t be childish.” 3 It would be a lie to say I wasn’t sad. In my 25 years, this was the first time I loved someone so much. I fell for Liam at my brother’s wedding. I blackmailed Jason for Liam’s WeChat and bombarded him with greetings until he blocked me. Later, Jason and Sophie set up a dinner, and I met him again, adding him on a burner account. This time, I played it smart. I copied Jason’s strategy: The Way to a Man’s Heart is Through His Stomach. When Sophie’s first love left the country, she stopped eating and withered away. Jason, heartbroken, transferred colleges to be near her, delivering three meals a day for 53 days until he won her heart. I pestered Jason to get me an internship with his chef mentor. I returned a master chef and successfully bid to run the Sterling Corp cafeteria. Liam actually thought my family had a lineage of chefs. Once I infiltrated the cafeteria, I was everywhere. Morning jogs, lunch deliveries, waiting for him after overtime. Maybe my persistence moved him, or maybe he needed a wife to stop the family pressure. He chose me. I thought even if he didn’t love me, time would change that. But in six months of marriage, he rarely came home on time. Once, he disappeared for two weeks. I told myself he was busy running a massive company. Until Bella White appeared. I realized the company wouldn’t collapse if he took a week off. He could spend all day with a woman. He would run to her with one phone call. Yet on my birthday, three months into our marriage, he sent a cake via his secretary because he was “busy.” Love and indifference are so obvious. Now that his first love is back, I should tactfully step aside. I won’t wait to be kicked out. 4 Looking at the luxurious house, thinking another woman would live here, I got angry. I grabbed a baseball bat and started smashing. Venting my grievances. Crash! Bang! Looking at the wreckage, I was satisfied. It looked like a legitimate home invasion. Then, with my five suitcases and a cool five million in my account, I called a moving truck. Before leaving, I went to say goodbye to Jason. But Sophie opened the door. “Chloe, you’re back too.” “Too?” “Chloe, have you been crying?” Sophie asked, seeing my red eyes. Jason and Sophie have a complex relationship, so we call each other “Sister-in-law.” Jason stubbornly calls Liam “Brother-in-law.” Jason walked out. “It’s about Liam’s ex-girlfriend. My sister is a love-brain, you know.” Sophie felt guilty but comforted me. “Chloe, don’t be sad. Liam and Bella aren’t like that.” “Not like that? Then like what?” My grievances exploded. I usually played the gentle wife, but I snapped. Sophie was stunned. “Hey, don’t yell at your sister-in-law. Not her fault.” My brother, the loyal dog, couldn’t stand seeing Sophie upset. He pulled me aside. “Sophie, go upstairs. She’s just throwing a tantrum. I’ll talk to her.” Sophie went upstairs. “Bro, Liam went to his ex. He won’t be back tonight. I’m leaving now.” “Sophie said Bella’s condition worsened. Liam will be at the hospital. Good timing.” “Are you ready?” “Ready. Liam gave me five million. I smashed the house. I’ll say it was a robbery.” “Go first. I’ll catch up.” Jason started hemming and hawing. “Fine. You hopeless romantic.” To cover my tracks, I paid a driver a huge sum to take me directly to City A, avoiding any digital trail.

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During finals, a hot guy sat there with his chin in his hand, just staring at me. Not only did he smile at me, but he also let me copy his answers. The result? My class rank dropped by one. From third to last, to second to last. I swore eternal enmity against Dylan Thorne from that day on. Until later. He got early acceptance to MIT. And held me in his arms while I did practice problems. Every time I got a question wrong, he would… 1 The school decided to switch things up for finals this year. Instead of seating us by GPA, they drew lots. I had already coordinated signals with my fellow “academic underachievers,” but now I was sitting in the middle of the exam hall, wanting to cry but failing to shed a tear. Front, back, right—I didn’t know a soul. The seat to my left was empty. What were the odds that the empty seat belonged to the school’s top scholar? Slim to none. But just as the bell rang, someone slid into the seat. I looked over. Holy crap. It really was the school’s top scholar. 2 There probably wasn’t a single person at Lincoln High who didn’t know Dylan Thorne. Not just because he was hot, but because he once scored 104 points higher than the second-place student on a monthly exam. The exam started, and I snuck a peek at him. …Well, at the paper under his hand. His fingers were long and slender, and he didn’t write fast, but he was just far enough away that I couldn’t quite see. I squinted, barely making out a stroke. Was that a C or a D? I pouted and looked back at my own test. I could guess my way through English and History, but Math? I was completely hopeless. Subconsciously, I looked at the person next to me again. And crashed right into his starry eyes. 3 Dylan Thorne, the school genius, must be a saint. He was actually willing to let me see his paper. Afraid I couldn’t see, he even nudged his test toward me. I mouthed “Thank you” to him. He saw it, and his eyes curved into a smile. I had never seen anyone look so good when they smiled. I panicked for a second. My gaze fell back to my own paper, and I couldn’t tell if my heart was racing because I successfully cheated… Or because of him. 4 We had two exams in the morning with a thirty-minute break in between. I glanced at the seat next to me. He got up and left, probably to the bathroom. When he came back, he stood in front of my desk. He was tall. He looked down at me, his knuckles rapping on my desk, his shadow enveloping me. “You copied everything from my paper?” I looked up at him, confused. When he looked at people, he was serious and patient. His tone was gentle too. “Hmm?” I nodded obediently. “I just glanced at your test. Did you forget we have Test Form A and Test Form B?” “…” So Form A has horizontal answers, and Form B has vertical answers. I forgot. Every single answer was wrong. 5 For the second exam, my heart was already half cold. What froze the other half was when, swish, a ball of paper landed behind me. I unfolded it halfway, just catching a glimpse of dense answers written inside. Then, the proctor in high heels snatched the paper ball from my hand. “Great job, Lily Wu. Instead of studying, you spend all your time on these crooked ways, huh?” “Get out. Automatic zero.” “…” I was shoved out of the exam hall by the teacher without a chance to explain. Looking back, based on the trajectory of the paper ball, I could only think of one person… Dylan Thorne. It was him. And he was staring blankly at me as I was dragged out. I suspected he didn’t want to help me. His real goal was to sabotage me. 6 I sat on the school stairs. Hugging my legs, sniffing. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to leave; school wasn’t out yet. I stared at the birds in the distance, wishing I could be as free as them. But before my daydream ended, someone appeared next to me. To be fair, Dylan Thorne’s face was indeed handsome. But I still swung my backpack and hit him. “Are you an idiot?” “Do we have a grudge or something?” “…” He let me hit him, standing there openly. After a few hits, I was the one who felt embarrassed. “Sorry. First time cheating, didn’t time it right.” “Wanted to help you, didn’t expect the teacher to intercept it.” His voice was cool, but when he spoke to me, it was light and gentle. “…” So he really tried to pass me answers. Yeah right. “I copied the math multiple-choice wrong, got a zero in this subject, I’m going to be last place again waaaah…” Thinking of this, I couldn’t hold it back anymore, sorrow welling up from my heart. “Why are you crying?” He was clearly startled by me, squatting beside me to wipe my tears with his sleeve. “It’s okay. I’ll be in last place with you, okay?” “…” Men’s words are always lies. 7 Class assignments for the new year were based on last year’s finals. Because one subject was ruthlessly given a zero, I ended up back in my familiar Class 16. The class with the worst grades. However, I stared at the class roster in deep thought. Why was Dylan Thorne in our class? Shouldn’t he be firmly in Class 1? My buddy from last semester, Ben, was still stuck in the same class with me. Seeing me, he stuck his head out and waved. “Let me tell you…” “Dylan Thorne only turned in one math test. The other five were blank.” “…” He really was an idiot. I put down my bag and leaned over to chat with Ben. “But I still hate him.” “Hate? You know him?” I nodded solemnly. “But did you know before he came to our school, he was a delinquent at North High? The kind that fought until the cops came.” Ben told me mysteriously. “…” I kicked the chair in front of me. “What are you talking about? He has such good grades, how could he be a delinquent?” “Tch, believe it or not.” He shook his head and turned back around. 8 As the most chaotic class in Lincoln High, Class 16 had all sorts of characters. Like the school bully, Rex. Rex wasn’t a nickname; this guy really acted like a T-Rex. No one dared to mess with Rex at Lincoln High. He walked around with two lackeys like he owned the place. Since the class was newly formed, seating was currently a free-for-all. I suddenly had a very bad feeling… as Rex slowly sauntered into the classroom, the only empty seat seemed to be next to me. Rex indeed aimed for my spot. “Move over!” He barked at me. I hugged my backpack and shrank into the corner. Even Ben, who turned to talk to me, retreated like a turtle into its shell. “Tsk, why does a girl take up so much space?” Rex’s voice was loud, causing many classmates to look our way. But I was already squeezed against the wall. Just as I was considering finding a new seat, someone knocked on Rex’s desk. I had never seen Dylan Thorne have such a main character moment. Like a god descending. He stood there lazily, backpack slung over one shoulder. Lowering his eyes, tone flat, staring at Rex who was sitting next to me. “You, go sit somewhere else.” “I want to sit here.” …Damn, someone in Lincoln High actually dared to talk to Rex like that. The key was, the bully next to me actually stood up abruptly. Bowing and scraping. “Oh hey, it’s Dylan. I didn’t know you wanted to sit here. If you’re sitting here, I wouldn’t dare take the spot. Here, there’s dust on the desk, let me wipe it for you…” “…” I was dumbfounded. Dylan sat next to me. I continued to hug my backpack and shrink in the corner. Seeing me like this, his eyes curved. “What?” “Scared now?”

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I married the man I had a crush on for three years. But he would rather make up an excuse about being a succubus who can’t have children than sleep with me. So, when he got drunk one night, I took advantage of the situation. A year later, I looked at the two little beans lying next to me. Damn it, he really could give birth! 1 This was the first time I’d seen Julian drunk. We’d been married for a month, living like two roommates under the same roof. Even on our wedding night, he politely grabbed a pillow and slept in the guest room. He didn’t like me; I knew that before we got married. But I really liked Julian. So even if we were married in name only, I was willing. A forced melon might not be sweet, but it quenches thirst. And right now, here was my chance to quench my thirst. I swallowed hard, but my hands didn’t stop moving. In no time, I had him stripped down to his boxers. His cheeks were flushed, and he shyly covered his crotch. I had already planned it out. If he asked tomorrow, I’d say he got drunk and initiated it, pushing all the responsibility onto him. “Lily.” I touched his face. Maybe my hands were cold because he nuzzled into my palm like a kitten. “Julian, do you know what I’m going to do?” “Like…” My face fell. He likes me but stays away from me? But then I thought, maybe he likes someone else. As far as I knew, he had a “rumored girlfriend” in college who was his equal in every way. But for some reason, they didn’t end up together, and she suddenly went abroad to study in our junior year. Good riddance. If she hadn’t left, how could I have swooped in? His blindingly white abs flashed before my eyes. My blood rushed, and I panted as I dragged him to the bed. Light kisses landed on his face, his lips, and then he covered my mouth. “No, I… I can’t.” What does that mean??? “I… I can’t have children.” After saying that, his mouth puckered, and he started sobbing quietly. Can’t have children? Does he have azoospermia? “That’s fine! I don’t like kids anyway.” His face was streaked with tears, and he hiccuped as he cried. “You… you don’t mind that I can’t have children? They say all humans like children.” I was confused. “What kind of talk is that? Are you not human?” He shook his head, blushing. “I’m a succubus.” Good lord, so kinky! We’re doing cosplay now? Excited, I kissed him again and again. “I like succubi who can’t have children.” He stopped crying and tilted his head. “Really?” “Stop asking. I’m going to show you just how real my words are with my actions!” I didn’t know if Julian could have children, but I knew he was amazing (thumbs up). When I woke up, the spot next to me was cold. He must have gone to the office. I rubbed my sore waist, grinning sweetly despite the pain. This melon really quenched my thirst! 2 I cooked a few of my specialty dishes and planned to bring them to Julian. But when I got to the company, I waited for hours. I had slept very little last night, so I was drowsy. When I woke up, I realized it was already time to get off work. The lunch box in front of me was empty and even cleaned. Julian was sitting in front of the computer, the screen’s light illuminating his exquisite face. My husband is so handsome! Not only handsome but also thoughtful; he didn’t even turn on the lights while I was sleeping. “Julian.” I pretended to wake up slowly, pouted like a kitten, yawned, and looked at him innocently. “I slept for so long. Did I disturb your work?” “Don’t bring me food next time. If you’re tired, go home early.” Holy crap! How could those warm lips say such cold words? We just had a session of intimate, negative-distance exercise last night! I thought for a moment. Maybe he wasn’t satisfied with my performance last night? Maybe he prefers the clingy type? I trotted over to him, sat on his lap, and wrapped my arms around his neck. “Get down.” I shifted my butt, getting even closer. “No. I’m your wife. It’s only right for me to sit on you.” His silver-rimmed glasses gleamed, and his expression was unnatural. “Lily!” I was getting impatient. “You can be on top tonight, okay?” His face turned redder, and he seemed helpless. “Lily, I’m in a meeting.” Huh? My body stiffened instantly, and I turned my neck at a snail’s pace. On the computer screen were all the company executives… “Let’s pause the meeting for today. I need to handle some family matters.” Someone on the other end was already covering their mouth, snickering. My reputation was ruined. He closed the laptop. In the dim light, Julian’s face looked even better. “Last night we…” He struggled to say it, as if I had forced him last night, even though he enjoyed it too. “You initiated it last night.” I shamelessly distorted the facts. “I clearly refused, but you insisted.” Ignoring his shocked gaze, I cupped his face. “Anyway, we’re husband and wife. It’s normal for couples to do that.” “And you were pretty funny last night. You even said you were a succubus who couldn’t have children… Ouch!” I was dropped onto the floor. Julian stood up abruptly, looking nervous. “Let’s pretend last night never happened.” Before I could respond, he left like a gust of wind. He didn’t come home for three days straight, going completely MIA. 3 “So that’s why you came to annoy me?” My best friend, Chloe, asked with interest while eating fruit. She knew I had a crush on Julian for three years. In college, I wasn’t as bold and unrestrained as I am now. Although I was a rich kid, my family was nouveau riche. My parents were used to hard times, so even after getting rich, they didn’t dare spend money recklessly. This made me frugal too. Meeting someone as outstanding as Julian naturally made me feel inferior. During those years of crushing on him, it was pure fantasy. I only dared to watch from afar, stealing glances at most. The boldest thing I did was write a love letter inviting him to go shopping. Of course, the result was waiting in vain. Not like now, with panties flying everywhere, touching abs whenever I want, and flirting non-stop. “I really like him. If he likes me too, I’d give him my life.” Chloe: “Is this ‘give my life’ literature? Interesting.” Me: “But if our marriage is going to be like this forever, how am I different from a concubine waiting to be favored in ancient times?” Chloe: “Then get a divorce.” Me: “But on the other hand, I got his body and his money, eight million a month.” Chloe: “Ah, then don’t divorce.” Me: “But I’m basically a crazy consort in the cold palace, having to wait for him all the time…” Chloe: “Say one more word, and I’ll strangle you.” Chloe seemed to remember something and gave me a cold smile. “Have you ever thought that maybe you’re too clingy, making him feel like you’ll follow him no matter what he does?” “What do you mean?” I was confused. “Idiot. You haven’t given him a sense of crisis. What if a man who is his equal appears and pursues you?” “Even the coldest man will react to seeing himself getting cucked.” I panicked. “What if he doesn’t react?” Chloe smiled: “Pack up and get a divorce.” I was devastated. She took out her phone and tapped away on the screen. “What are you doing?” She didn’t look up. “Finding a rival for your husband.” Half an hour later, there was a knock on the door. Chloe smirked. “He’s here.” She got up to open the door, and bang. Startled by the sound, I ran out. I saw a man pinning Chloe against the wall, kissing her wildly. The kiss was earth-shattering. No matter how much Chloe hit him, he remained unmoved and kept kissing. What should I do? It was awkward to watch, but I couldn’t interrupt. I hesitated for a long time. Finally, the guy noticed there was someone else present. His lips left Chloe, and he glanced at me with eyes full of wickedness. Oh my god, this guy is gorgeous. Chloe was half-dead from the kiss. “Let me introduce you. This is my friend with benefits, Rex.” The guy didn’t speak, just pinched Chloe’s chin and kissed her heavily again. “Rex!” I was dumbfounded. After a while, Rex finally had enough and let go of Chloe, then nodded at me. “Hello, Chloe’s husband.” Awesome. 4 “What do I get out of this?” Just now, when Chloe explained the plan, Rex’s expression instantly turned into Siberian cold air. “Can’t you help a brother out?” “Sure, what can you give me?” He leaned in front of Chloe, his face full of lust and desire. Good lord, where did she find this guy? Chloe bit her lip unwillingly. “You can do whatever you want when the time comes, okay?” “Deal.” Then his gaze swept over me, tone cold. “Just listen to my commands later.” According to the latest intel, Julian was at the Polo Club. I didn’t know what Rex’s identity was, but as far as I knew, money alone couldn’t get you into this club. Chloe and I hunched over, carefully looking towards a spot some distance away. Several tall men in polo gear were chatting in the rest area. “You, come out.” Rex beckoned me with a blank face. “Go on.” Chloe gave me a gentle push. Damn, I was starting to cringe again. “Go to my side later, dump these things in front of me, and start crying.” Me: ? I took the bag he gave me and looked inside. Why were they all candid photos of him? Seeing that he had already walked near Julian, I could only bite the bullet and rush forward. Then I dumped the contents of the bag in front of him and immediately smeared onion on my eyelids. Good lord, tears streamed down like rain. Silence. Even Rex stood aside, arms crossed, watching me calmly. My eyes could barely open. Was I going to stand here like an idiot, being watched like a monkey? The next second, a familiar cold scent drilled into my nose, and a cool wet wipe was pressed onto my eyes. When my vision cleared, only Julian was left. “That man left.” Julian said with a cold face. “Do you like him that much? Crying like this.” I was wronged. That guy was inhumane; he gave me a bag of his selfies and an onion slice, then left. He took out an exquisite gift box from his pocket and placed it in my hand. “The blue diamond necklace I custom-ordered for you in Berlin. I’ve been wanting to give it to you…” Did he disappear for three days to prepare a gift for me?

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I used a photo of my ex-boyfriend as my desktop wallpaper. My advisor saw it and paused. “You know him?” Without thinking, I blurted out, “That’s my boyfriend.” The next day, my advisor enthusiastically invited me over for dinner. When the door opened, I stood face-to-face with Max Jiang. “Son, I brought your girlfriend home.” I looked for a crack in the wall to crawl into. I was the one who dumped him back then… Chapter 1 After submitting my thesis revisions based on my advisor’s feedback, I happily slept the day away. I just woke up when I got a call from my advisor, Professor Zhong. “Can you come over now?” My phone showed seven missed calls. I didn’t dare refuse, so I grabbed my laptop and rushed to his office. The sea of red track changes on my paper made my heart bleed. Professor Zhong kept sighing, and my heart grew colder and colder. While I was zoning out, he accidentally minimized the document. A photo of a guy appeared on the screen. The tenderness in his eyes was palpable. Classic girlfriend POV. I took the photo. The guy was Max Jiang. My ex-boyfriend. I couldn’t bring myself to delete it and had secretly set it as my wallpaper. Professor Zhong paused for two seconds, then casually asked, “You know him?” “I don’t mean anything by it, just heard young people use photos of people they know as wallpaper, got curious.” “Is he your boyfriend?” I was stunned. Because I often used “my boyfriend” as an excuse for not being on campus sometimes. But the professor had never seen him. After a while, he got suspicious. My brain short-circuited, and I rubbed my nose. “Professor… you guessed right.” He gave a meaningful “Oh.” He didn’t react much, but he seemed to become friendlier. The next day on my way to the cafeteria, I got another call from Professor Zhong. His tone was completely different, cheerful and laughing. “Zoe, haven’t eaten yet, right?” I was confused. “No, Professor.” “Your teacher’s wife made a big feast today, come over for dinner?” I slammed on the brakes, almost nose-diving into the roadside bushes. I was terrified. “No thanks, Professor, you guys eat…” “She got up early to buy groceries, she’s been excited all morning. She made chili shrimp, crab cakes, braised ribs…” Great, successfully triggered my appetite. I ignored the weirdness of it all. When a professor invites you warmly, how can a student refuse? Eat first, deal with everything else later. “Professor, send me the address, I’m on my way.” Chapter 2 I stood at the door, and before I even rang the bell, it opened. “Is that Zoe? Come in, come in.” The woman in front of me was beaming. I realized who she was and smiled back. “I’m Zoe Lin, nice to meet you, Mrs. Zhong.” “Just call me Auntie. Who knows, you might need to change that title soon.” She couldn’t stop smiling, but I hesitated, afraid to take a step forward. She took my hand and shouted toward the kitchen. “Zhong Shuwen, go get your son out here.” Huh? Son? The professor’s son is here too? Wait, why are they inviting me to a family dinner? The professor wiped his hands and trotted out. “Okay, honey.” I almost laughed. Didn’t expect Professor Zhong to be henpecked. The next second, the smile froze on my face. The professor bellowed, “Son, I brought your girlfriend home.” “Come out!” Girlfriend? Me? Student turns into daughter-in-law? This can’t be happening! Professor, you can’t just randomly assign a daughter-in-law! Is this my punishment for academic patchwork? But didn’t he know I had a boyfriend… A sudden realization hit me, before I could process it. “What girlfriend?” “I don’t have…” A familiar voice spoke and then stopped abruptly. I saw a profile, and out of reflex, I pulled the hat in my hand back onto my head. I wanted to cry. Who would have thought Professor Zhong’s son’s last name was Jiang? If I’d known, I wouldn’t have been too lazy to wash my hair last night. I didn’t even change clothes earlier. I took off my jacket. I was only wearing a white cotton tee and plaid pants. Now I realized I looked like I was in pajamas. Can I find an excuse to escape? Is there a crack in the wall I can crawl into? My head sank lower and lower. I envied turtles, they could shrink into their shells. The dreaded thing happened. “I was wondering why you kid never wanted to come back. You didn’t even tell me and your mom you were dating. If I hadn’t seen Zoe’s wallpaper yesterday, we’d still be in the dark.” My ears burned. “Wallpaper?” “Yeah, I saw it with my own eyes, you have to treat Zoe well.” Professor, please stop talking. I’m about to lose my dignity. Max tilted his head, raised an eyebrow, and said each word deliberately. “Oh? Zoe Lin, my girlfriend?” Dragging out the strange ending sound. I was the one who unceremoniously dumped him back then. Someone tell me, how do I resolve such an awkward situation? I steeled myself, looked up, and met Max’s narrowed eyes. I greeted him with a dead heart. “Hello, boyfriend, what a coincidence.” My smile must have been ugly, even Mrs. Zhong noticed something was wrong. “You two know each other so well, why are you greeting each other like that?” “Is it too sudden? Don’t be nervous, we’re just too happy, a bit impatient.” I was stunned, seeing Mrs. Zhong’s expectant look. Suddenly I felt this lie couldn’t continue. I took a deep breath, ready to explain. I was pulled into a strong embrace. “Mom, Dad, you scared her.” “I didn’t mean to hide it from you, you guys are just too gossipy.” The professor’s mouth twitched, couldn’t help but instruct. “Zoe is still a student, don’t always take up her time in the future.” I thought about the excuses I made to the professor yesterday and before. I slowly looked up to meet Max’s confused eyes, smiling awkwardly. “Um…” Before I could explain, the professor asked curiously again. “Where did you two go play yesterday, she forgot her phone, and you didn’t help her get it.” I couldn’t hold it in anymore. Professor, why do you believe everything I say? I answered quickly, “Professor, we went hiking yesterday, and had a picnic.” “Picnic? Where? Your mom said she wanted to have a picnic a few days ago.” The smile froze on my face, why is there a follow-up… “At…” My brain searched rapidly. I hate that I usually don’t browse local forums, don’t know anything. Max spoke up and saved me, “Old man, you ask too many questions.” “I’ll take her to wash her hands.” Mrs. Zhong pushed the professor, “Why so many questions, go serve the food.” Chapter 3 In the bathroom, I breathed a sigh of relief and thanked him sincerely. He turned on the faucet to wash his hands, saying nonchalantly. “I didn’t help you, I was helping my dear girlfriend.” I was speechless for a moment, I was indeed in the wrong here. But I absolutely cannot lose momentum in front of my ex-boyfriend. “If I knew you were the professor’s son, I wouldn’t have said it was you.” He paused, his gaze intense. “Then who did you want to say it was?” “I…” Seems there’s no one else to say. He sighed lightly. “If you have a boyfriend, we better explain clearly right now.” I grabbed his clothes, almost kneeling down to him. “Since it already happened, and we can’t break up right now.” “Then please pretend to be my boyfriend a little longer, please please.” I looked up with pitiful eyes. He stared at me for a long time, his Adam’s apple rolling. “I’m not interested in being a stand-in.” I was a bit confused, “What stand-in?” He was nonchalant, “Didn’t you say yesterday you were with your boyfriend?” “I was with my bed yesterday, all day.” He raised his eyebrows, radiating joy all over: “Then I’ll reluctantly agree to you.” “Okay, boyfriend.” He froze for a moment, leaned against the wall and stopped talking. Why did this person suddenly become The Thinker? Why are his ears red too? I didn’t understand, shook my head. Finished washing hands. My eyes fell on the towel rack next to me. Huh, which one did Max use just now? While hesitating, a towel covered my hand. “This one, girlfriend.” “……” Chapter 4 The professor came out of the kitchen. “Eat quickly, don’t let it get cold.” I praised generously, “Auntie, your cooking is really good.” “If it tastes good, eat more, look at you, you’re too skinny.” Mrs. Zhong kept putting food in my bowl, soon piling up into a small mountain. I hurriedly stopped her. “No need, Auntie, it’s really enough.” “I’ll get it myself if I want to eat.” “First time here, inevitably a bit uncomfortable.” “Auntie knows, no need to be polite with Auntie.” The bowl in front of me was even a large bowl. Bigger than my hand. Sighing inwardly. I’m not being polite, Auntie. It’s embarrassing not to finish the food when visiting! I was worried. A chuckle came from beside me. I turned my head slightly, Max was propping his head watching me, corners of his mouth raised. Mrs. Zhong was dissatisfied, “What are you laughing at?” “You’re not putting food in Zoe’s bowl either.” He finally raised his chopsticks. I panicked a bit, what is he doing? Won’t he put food in my bowl too! While staring at the chopsticks, I gave Max a look. The chopsticks turned a corner in mid-air, landed in my bowl. Chopstick by chopstick took away the food in my bowl. Mrs. Zhong asked: “Max, what are you doing?” His expression didn’t change, “First, she doesn’t eat green peppers.” “Second, she has a small stomach, greedy but can’t eat much.” “Your amount will stuff people to death.” My heart missed a beat. What are you doing, acting like you know me so well. We only dated for half a year. Mrs. Zhong suddenly realized, looking at us like shipping a couple. “Zoe, I’m too happy, help yourself.” I smiled, “It’s okay, thanks Auntie.”

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My mom suspected I was underdeveloped because of my chest size, so she kidnapped me and dragged me to a doctor. The doctor turned out to be my ex-boyfriend, whom I had just broken up with. He looked cold and distant: “Pull your shirt down to your collarbone, unhook your bra.” Then he deliberately teased me: “It is pretty small.” I gritted my teeth and shifted the blame: “Small chest? Blame the ex-boyfriend for not working hard enough.” The next second, I was pinned against the exam table, his voice dangerous: “Seems the examination wasn’t thorough enough. “Looks like I need to keep working hard.” 1 “Patient number 52, Chloe Miller, please proceed to Exam Room 2.” The moment the automated voice announced my name. I stared at the sign reading [Thoracic Surgery: Dr. Ethan Black], grinding my teeth so hard they might crack. I glanced sideways at the lean figure behind the glass door. The hint of his waistline under the white coat reminded me of certain unspeakable scenes. A month ago, that waist was pressing down on me, whispering “last time.” Now he looked like a refined scumbag. “Why are you zoning out?” My mom slapped my back. “Dr. Black is a top expert who returned from overseas. Getting an appointment with him is like winning the lottery! I only got one because his mom and I are best friends.” Before I could ask how my mom knew his mom, I heard a cold voice: “Next.” When the exam room door opened. The man I hadn’t seen for a month wore a blue mask, the cuffs of his white coat slightly rolled up. His eyes were indifferent, eyebrows slightly raised: “Want to get back together?” “Here for a checkup.” I stiffened my neck, catching a glimpse of his Adam’s apple bobbing. “Where does it hurt?” Before I could answer, my mom rushed in: “Ethan, I’m your Auntie Lin. Take a look at my daughter. Her chest is so small, is it developmental issues?” My mom’s loud voice echoed in the exam room. My toes were actively constructing a magical castle in my shoes. “Auntie.” Ethan pushed up his glasses. “Chest size is related to genetics, nutrition…” “Exactly!” My mom nodded repeatedly. “Do you think it’s because she drank the wrong formula milk as a kid?” When Ethan wrote [Patient’s family suspects formula caused underdeveloped chest] in the medical record. My toes had finished Phase 2 of the castle. If I have sinned, let the law punish me. Not by having my own mother suspect I’m underdeveloped because of a small chest and force me to see a doctor. And the doctor is my ex-boyfriend from a month ago. “Palpation required.” Ethan stood up, flashing a professional smile at my mom. “Family members, please wait outside.” I clutched the registration slip, smiling without humor. “Can I change doctors?” He didn’t even look up, his tone distant and indifferent: “Turn right out the door, re-register, and queue up again.” “Oh, no need, the queue is so long.” My mom immediately pressed me onto the exam table. “What’s wrong with a male doctor? You young people are so conservative. In a doctor’s eyes, there is no gender.” I felt lifeless. No gender in a doctor’s eyes, but what about in an ex-boyfriend’s? Besides, since when does a thoracic expert handle developmental issues??? 2 Ethan raised his hand to close the privacy curtain, adjusted his glasses, and signaled me: “Pull your shirt up, unhook your bra.” I clutched the hem of my shirt tightly, glaring at him. “You… you’re abusing your power for personal revenge!” He put his hands in his coat pockets, looking composed, and coldly reminded me: “Miss Miller, first, you registered for my clinic. “Second, I am a doctor. Treating patients is my job. “Finally, is there any part of you I haven’t seen?” Me: … Fine, you win… I gritted my teeth, took a deep breath, and unhooked my bra. Heart pounding, eyes closed, I pulled my shirt up. His hands were a bit cold, making me shiver when they touched my skin. “Don’t be nervous.” “Who… who’s nervous…” “High heart rate.” The corner of his mouth hooked into an imperceptible smile. Head down, checking very seriously. “Any sensation?” I turned my head to the side, huffing: “No!” “No?” He frowned, puzzled. “No sensation means no sensation. Dr. Black’s technique is too poor. We broke up, do you expect me to fake it?” Since I couldn’t win physically, I chose to win verbally. “Heh, my technique is poor?” He lowered his eyes slightly, locking gazes with me through his lenses, voice cold and deep. “Chloe, speak with your conscience.” I cursed silently, Isn’t my conscience being touched by you right now? He applied a bit more pressure. “How about now?” Me: “Feels like you’re pinching me…” He looked up, staring straight at me, and sighed. “Any pain?” “No!” “Distention pain?” “No!” “Is it itchy usually?” “Oh right, it’s not here that itches.” Me: !!! “Ethan Black, have you touched enough!” Blushing, I abruptly propped myself up, almost hitting his chin: “Don’t you know if I’m sick or not?” “So far, there doesn’t seem to be any problem, but…” His hands finally let go of me. His low laugh suddenly rang in the air: “It is pretty small.” I gritted my teeth, retorting defiantly: “Small chest? Blame the ex-boyfriend for not working hard enough!” Suddenly, he grabbed my waist, and I fell into his arms by inertia. The scent of faint woody cologne wafted from his white coat. His breathing was heavy, his voice dangerous: “What, want me to work harder? Trying the same trick again?” His face wore undisguised mockery. 3 Yes, we got together purely because I stalked him relentlessly until he had no choice but to give in. Back then, I accompanied my best friend to the doctor and fell for Ethan’s devastating looks at first sight. White coat, gold-rimmed glasses, broad shoulders, long legs—the ascetic vibe was maxed out. I have a thing for hands. Watching his slender, distinct knuckles typing on the keyboard beat a drum in my heart. I clung to the doorframe, swallowing hard, heart rate soaring. Finally understood the suspension bridge effect. Give me a heart bypass right now! My best friend was hospitalized for a month due to arrhythmia from looking at male models. I became an unofficial staff member of the thoracic surgery department. Morning bubble tea delivery? Criticized for excessive sugar. Lunch bento delivery? Criticized for nutritional imbalance. Evening stakeouts? Lectured on irregular sleep schedules. After I faked low blood sugar and fell into his arms for thirty consecutive days, Ethan finally cornered me in the stairwell: “Chloe, what exactly do you want?” “You.” I gritted my teeth, tiptoeing to pull his tie: “Okay? “Dr. Black, my heart races whenever I see you. What should I do?” Later, when he pinned me against the wall and kissed me. I realized even high-altitude flowers bite when provoked. But soon I discovered this man was a monk. Three months to hold hands, six months to kiss. Every time I wanted to deepen the exchange, he rejected me firmly with those enchanting eyes: “This is too fast.” I played tug-of-war for six months before using a honey trap to push him down. However, the high-altitude flower wasn’t cold in bed at all. He wore me out every time. Love should be sweet, but his job was special. He practically lived on the operating table. Leaving at 7 AM and returning at 8 or 9 PM was normal. I wanted some action when he got home, but he had to review cases, write papers, take exams. Even a workhorse would call him brother. At a vigorous age, I craved him. Couldn’t stand this feast-or-famine life. On my birthday, I hadn’t had any for half a month. I swore I would push him down. But the movie just started when a phone call sent him running back to the hospital. I finished the movie alone, ate hot pot alone, feeling incredibly lonely and wronged. Sent him WeChat messages, no reply. When I brought food to the hospital to see him, he was sitting with a female doctor, discussing a case intently. Their faces showed undisguised admiration. Indescribably compatible. In an instant, my enthusiasm deflated. Someone like Ethan is fine for sleeping with. Not suitable for marriage. He’s an excellent doctor at a top hospital; I’m a broke writer who loves pretty faces. Truly mismatched. And at that moment, I suddenly didn’t want to sleep with him anymore. So, I proposed a breakup. He asked why. I gave a reason that would kill any man’s heart: “Your technique sucks.” Then I blocked all his contact info. After the breakup, he never looked for me. Anyway, I dumped him. Now that I accidentally registered for his clinic, it looks like I regretted it and came back to chase him. 4 I hurriedly reached back to fasten my bra hook. “Dr. Black, you’re overthinking it. My mom registered me. “Also, I don’t play with the same man twice.” I retorted defiantly. But I couldn’t fasten the hook. He pressed close to me, suddenly wrapping his arms around my waist. Deftly helping me hook my bra. Caught off guard by his sudden move, I was flustered. He spoke first, voice cool: “No need to thank me. “Practice makes perfect.” I used to tease him about his dexterous hands, good for scalpels and unhooking bras with one hand. I gritted my teeth, deliberately sarcastic: “Dr. Black is so considerate, even hooking bras for female patients.” He smiled faintly, composed: “You’re welcome. “It’s also my first time encountering a female patient seeking treatment for a small chest.” Me: … After a moment of silence, I was still thinking of a comeback. My mom knocked and entered. Seeing my bad expression, she hurriedly asked Ethan: “Dr. Black, does my daughter have some problem?” Ethan stepped back to a safe distance: “Auntie, don’t worry, no problems.” My mom exhaled a long breath: “That’s good, that’s good…” Then she asked heartbrokenly: “But her sister and I are both Ds. Why is she an A?” I silently buried my face in my hands. “Maybe—” Holding back laughter, he pushed up his glasses: “She takes after her uncle.” Dead silence. My mom still wouldn’t give up: “So my daughter’s chest really has no hope?” “Suggest eating more papaya.” Ethan’s gaze swept over me, seemingly unintentional, a distinct smile on his lips: “Of course, auxiliary massage is also effective. “Some women may experience secondary development during lactation.” My mom slapped her thigh, enlightened: “Got it, she just needs to find a man.” Her eyes lit up, looking at him: “Ethan, heard from your mom you just broke up. What do you think of my daughter?” My head buzzed. Hurriedly stopping my mom, whispering: “Mom, don’t matchmake randomly…” My mom stomped her foot anxiously: “I saw Dr. Black’s profile outside. PhD, Deputy Chief Physician, young and promising. And handsome! Perfect for our genes. If your mom were 20 years younger, I’d have made a move already. “He just broke up, the rebound period needs comfort most. Hurry up and take advantage! “Um, Dr. Black, how about adding WeChat? If Chloe feels uncomfortable later, she can consult you online?” Ethan looked up at me. I blinked frantically. Because he was still on my blacklist. “Sure.” But he took out his phone, QR code directly in my face: “Please scan it yourself, Miss Miller.” I bit the bullet and scanned the code. Beep. Ethan’s avatar appeared on the screen. Below the message box was a small line of text: Added to blacklist. You will no longer receive messages from this person. “Haven’t received the friend request yet.” He reminded me. I gritted my teeth, secretly removing him from the blacklist: “Done.” He nodded with a smile: “Good, I’ll send the medical advice to Miss Miller.” I silently rolled my eyes. Bullshit, what medical advice for a small chest? A few minutes later, Ethan sent a WeChat message: [Chest Massage Techniques Complete Guide.pdf] [Proper massage can promote development and prevent breast hyperplasia.] I smiled through gritted teeth: “Dr. Black truly has a healer’s heart.” Dr. Black: “Free medical guidance available.”

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