I returned to the country early to surprise my sister. But when I got home, I couldn’t find her anywhere. By chance, I saw a corner of my sister’s clothes sticking out from a tightly closed dog cage at the entrance of the courtyard. I opened the cage and saw my sister’s small body curled up in a wooden den less than one square meter. I was shocked: “Why are you sleeping here? Come out quickly, I brought you your favorite white chocolate cake.” My sister shook her head repeatedly: “No, no, no, white chocolate cake is for masters, puppies don’t deserve to eat it, puppies can only eat dog food.” My stepmother’s voice came from behind me: “Nina said studying is too hard, not as comfortable as being a dog. She wants to be a dog herself and insisted on living in the doghouse.” I turned around and saw that my stepmother’s belly was at least eight months pregnant. And the seal symbolizing family power, half of which belonged to me and half to my sister, was hanging around her neck. Seeing me staring at the seal, my stepmother touched her belly and said proudly: “The doctor said I’m carrying a boy, so not only Nina’s seal must be given to me, but yours too.” I smiled mysteriously. She probably didn’t know that my father married into the family, and he lost his fertility the year my sister was born. Chapter 1 The second young miss of the Sterling family, who should have been pampered, was now chained in the yard like a dog. Looking at the iron chain around my sister’s neck, my heart ached like it was being twisted. No wonder my sister hadn’t contacted me in the three years I was abroad. Whenever I asked my father about her, he would brush me off with the excuse that her studies were heavy. The room that originally belonged to my sister had long been occupied by others, and the furnishings in the villa had been completely renewed, showing no trace of my mother when she was alive. I pulled my sister out of the dog cage and patted the dust off her body. The dress she was wearing was the one I gave her three years ago, now tattered and barely covering her body. I took off my coat and draped it over her. “Doris Jenkins, you dare treat the second young miss of my Sterling family like this? Are you tired of living?” “How dare you talk to your mother like that!” My dad appeared behind Doris with a group of people I didn’t know. They looked me up and down with malice. “My mom died long ago. What is she?” “Serena Sterling! Doris is my wife, and also your mother, the mistress of this house! Apologize to her immediately, or I won’t recognize you as my daughter!” “A bed-climbing nanny from the countryside deserves to be my mother? And Frank Walker, you’ve forgotten whose family name this house bears!” My mother was the seventy-fifth generation leader of the Azure Dragon Clan, dominating both the black and white worlds, controlling the Azure Dragon Seal, and commanding eight thousand branches across Asia. Such a proud daughter of heaven somehow fell for a phoenix man like my father. To be with my father, she threatened suicide and finally made my grandfather agree to let my father marry into the family. My sister and I both took our mother’s surname and called our grandfather “Grandpa.” My mother split her Azure Dragon Seal in two, giving half to me and half to my sister, instructing us never to use it unless absolutely necessary. Later, my mother fell ill and suddenly passed away. My father said my young sister couldn’t be without care, so he brought his childhood sweetheart from his hometown over. “When I agreed to let Doris enter the door, it was as a nanny, not the mistress of the Sterling family!” Frank raised his hand and slapped me: “I have the final say in this house now! If you’re not satisfied, get out!” I covered my burning face: “Don’t forget, you are living in the villa my mom bought before marriage, it’s the property of our Sterling family. If anyone is getting out, it’s you taking her with you!” “I really gave you too much face!” Frank was about to hit me again, but was stopped by Doris’s fake pretense. “Alright, the child is still young and ignorant, I won’t hold it against her.” “Serena, I really didn’t mistreat your sister. She herself finds studying tiring and wants to live like a dog.” “I certainly didn’t agree to let her live in the doghouse, she even made a fuss at home several times because of this.” “If I didn’t let her live there, she would go on a hunger strike. I had no choice but to let her have her way.” “If you don’t believe me, ask your father, or let Nina say it herself.” Frank snorted: “It’s Nina who doesn’t want to do well herself. To skip school, she’d rather be a dog. Such a worthless child doesn’t deserve to be my, Frank Walker’s, daughter!” My sister pulled my sleeve, her voice hoarse: “Sister, it’s me who doesn’t like going to school. I like being a dog, like living in a doghouse.” “I am a puppy, woof, woof.” “You are not a dog, you are a human!” I looked around and found not a single old staff member in this yard. The original butler, nanny, and bodyguards had all been replaced by unfamiliar faces, staring at me fiercely one by one. “I don’t care what happened before, but since I’m back, my sister Nina Sterling will not be a dog for you here!” Doris put on a fake smile: “Serena, you discipline Nina from now on. We can’t control her.” She picked up a ball at her feet and threw it out casually. My sister immediately got down on all fours and ran to fetch the ball. She bit the ball with her mouth and ran back to Doris. Doris reached out, and she put the ball in Doris’s hand. Doris threw the ball out again, and my sister was about to fetch it again, but I immediately pulled her up. “Nina! You are a human, not a dog. You have to walk on two legs and hold things with two hands! Promise me, don’t act like a dog anymore, okay?” My sister kept shaking her head: “No, I am a puppy, I like being a puppy.” Doris laughed loudly. She shook the ball in her hand: “Do you still want to play?” My sister immediately stuck out her tongue, making panting sounds: “Yes! Yes!” “Enough!” I turned my gaze to Frank, “My mom told you to take good care of my sister before she died, and this is how you take care of her!” Frank looked indifferent: “I can’t help it if she’s worthless herself.” “Get the key and unlock the chain around her neck!” No one moved. I glanced at the servants around me: “Are you all deaf!” “Go get the key.” Only when Doris spoke did someone act. It seems I can’t command the people in this house anymore. After the chain around my sister’s neck was unlocked, she was extremely panicked. She shrank her neck and tried to crawl into the dog cage: “I won’t live in the house, I am a puppy, I have to live in the dog cage!” I quickly hugged her: “Nina, don’t be afraid, sister will take you to see a doctor right now.” Without time to clean up my sister, I took her to the hospital non-stop. After examination, my sister not only had serious psychological problems but also was physically devastated. Large and small scars were concentrated on her chest and back, just covered by clothes. According to the doctor, my sister had been whipped and beaten with sticks, and there were large areas of burns on her body. Several ribs had signs of fracture, and even her skull was damaged. Listening to the doctor’s description, my tears fell uncontrollably. These people are simply scum! I held my sister in my arms: “Nina, don’t be afraid. Sister will protect you in the future, no one can bully you anymore!” I took my sister back to the villa, and Doris greeted us with her pregnant belly. “Serena, where is your Azure Dragon Seal? Is it on you?” My luggage was in the living room, all opened and rummaged through. “Who allowed you to touch my luggage!” “Serena, hurry up and give your half of the seal to your mother. Your mother is pregnant with your brother, and our family’s property will have to be inherited by your brother in the future.” I laughed angrily at him: “The Azure Dragon Clan values bloodline extremely. Only our Sterling family line can lead the Azure Dragon Clan to prosperity. Just with the bastard in her belly, she deserves to covet the successor’s position!” Frank’s face turned green: “How do you speak? That’s your brother, not some bastard!” “She knows in her heart whether it is or not.” Doris leaned aggrievedly in Frank’s arms: “I only had your father as a man in my life, how can you throw such dirty water on me.” “Apologize to your mother quickly!” Ignoring the furious Frank, I dragged my sister straight to the room. Frank was still chattering behind me: “Your mother even asked someone to specially clean up your room and prepared your favorite fruits. Are you worthy of her!” I took my sister into the room and locked Frank outside directly. Frank wanted to call someone to kick me out, Doris pretended to persuade him, and it took a long time for the outside to quiet down. I gave my sister a bath and changed her clothes, watching her fall asleep before going to bed. When my people arrive tomorrow, I will settle this account with them properly. Chapter 2 I slept groggily until the latter half of the night. When I opened my eyes again, my sister beside me was gone. I became alert instantly and got up immediately to look for her. At this moment, my sister was in the dining room, kneeling on the ground serving meals to Doris’s nephew. Zack also saw me: “My aunt said Nina is my wife, she was born to serve me.” “Puppy, you performed well today, here’s a bite for you.” Zack spat a mouthful of bread on the ground, and my sister immediately bent down to pick it up with her mouth. Zack laughed loudly: “You even eat what I chewed, truly a dog!” He got up and rode on my sister: “Run fast, if you run fast, I’ll reward you with another bite!” So my sister crawled on all fours, carrying him all over the room. “Run faster! So slow, do you not want to eat! If you are slow again, I won’t give you dog food later!” My sister sped up, and Zack took out a few grains of dog food from his pocket and threw them in front. My sister went to pick them up immediately. “Dog thing, only knows how to eat!” I couldn’t bear it anymore, went up and kicked Zack off my sister. Zack fell with a thud, got up and immediately shouted at me: “Damn, you dare hit me!” “Someone come, tie her up!” “Who dares!” I pulled my sister up and protected her in my arms: “Zack, if you kneel down and apologize to my sister now, I will consider sparing your life. Otherwise, don’t blame me for not giving you a chance!” “Oh, you’re quite arrogant! You think this is when your mom was alive!” “Now this family is named Walker, and the Azure Dragon Clan is also named Walker! Now my uncle has the final say. What are you, daring to shout at me!” “Catch her quickly!” Those bodyguards swarmed up and held me and my sister down. Doris came over pretending to be a good person: “Serena, my nephew is just spoiled by me. He has no malice, just playing with Nina.” “How about this, you give the seal to me, and I’ll make him apologize to you and Nina.” “Want the seal? In your dreams!” Doris was furious: “Really shameless. Search for it, the seal must be on her!” “You finally stopped pretending. Seeing you smile at me makes me sick.” “Hmph, little bitch, if you were obedient like your sister, I could let you be a dog by my side. But you are too arrogant. Since I can’t discipline you, I have to send you to Myanmar to learn to behave.” “You dare!” “When I find the seal, the entire Azure Dragon Clan will be mine. What wouldn’t I dare!” “Madam, found it!” The bodyguard handed my half of the seal to Doris, and her eyes burst with light. She put the half seal on her neck together with mine: “Great, the Azure Dragon Clan is finally mine! The power all over Asia, countless wealth, are all mine!” I sneered: “You just got a token, isn’t it too early to be happy?” “The Azure Dragon Seal can mobilize eight thousand branches across Asia. With it, I am the helmsman of the Azure Dragon Clan!” “You’re not worthy.” “Still stubborn when facing death! Send her and Nina to Myanmar for me!” I checked the time, they should be here. Sure enough, the next moment, a group of men in black rushed in, surrounding the villa tightly. They knocked down the bodyguards holding me and my sister in a few moves and protected us behind them. Doris had never seen such a formation, scared into hiding behind the bodyguards immediately. “Who are you!” “This is the guard team of my Azure Dragon Clan.” “People from the Azure Dragon Clan, great!” Doris took out the united seal, “The Azure Dragon Seal is in my hand, I am your new helmsman!” “Now listen to my command, arrest Serena and Nina!” None of the men in black moved. Doris was anxious: “Are you all blind? This is the genuine Azure Dragon Seal!” A man in black handed an envelope to my hand: “Eldest Miss, the things you ordered are ready.” I took it and handed it to Frank. “Dad, take a look.” Frank took it suspiciously, and Doris immediately leaned over. After he opened the envelope and saw the content inside, both of them turned pale with shock. Doris snatched the report from Frank’s hand: “This can’t be true!” “You deliberately made this fake diagnosis sheet to provoke our husband and wife relationship!” “Take her down for me!” Seeing the men in black still not moving, Doris held up the seal in her hand. “I now order you with the Azure Dragon Seal, take down Serena and Nina!” My sister was so scared she trembled in my arms. I hugged her tightly and whispered comfort to her: “Nina, don’t be afraid. From now on, no one can bully you anymore.” I looked up at Doris: “You don’t really think that commanding the huge Azure Dragon Clan relies on a small Azure Dragon Seal, do you?” “Otherwise? Doesn’t this Azure Dragon Seal equal the emperor’s jade seal! He who holds the jade seal holds the world!” “Then according to what you say, if any random cat or dog steals the jade seal, they can be the emperor?” Doris panicked a bit: “Anyway, this Azure Dragon Seal is in my hand, I am the new helmsman of the Azure Dragon Clan!” With a look from me, the guards around me immediately understood, stepped forward and knocked down the bodyguards around Doris in a few moves, snatching the Azure Dragon Seal back from her hand. “Now the Azure Dragon Seal is in my hand.” Doris trembled with anger: “Clearly I already got the Azure Dragon Seal, why didn’t you listen to my orders!” “You are really naive. Our Azure Dragon Clan has never recognized inanimate objects.” “What do you mean?” “Since my sister and I were born, photos of every stage of ours have been sent back to the headquarters. All the people of the Azure Dragon Clan recognize this face of mine.” “The Azure Dragon Seal is just a tool representing me. I am the supreme symbol of power in the Azure Dragon Clan.” “You wouldn’t really think that in front of the emperor and the jade seal, the courtiers would ignore the emperor and listen to a cat or dog holding the jade seal?” Doris gasped heavily: “You, you!” She suddenly clutched her belly grimacing in pain: “My stomach hurts so much! Husband, save our child!” Frank hugged her: “Serena, make your people disperse quickly, I want to send your mother to the hospital!” “No one leaves today. Don’t keep calling her my mom. My mom is dead, Doris is a bitch!” “If anything happens to the child in your Auntie’s belly, I’m not done with you!” “Dad, you don’t still think she is carrying your child, do you? You have no fertility at all. Inside her belly is another man’s bastard!” “Hmph, don’t think I’ll be deceived by you just because you brought a fake diagnosis sheet to trick me.” Doris grabbed Frank’s arm tightly: “Send me to the hospital quickly, I can’t hold on.” I looked at her coldly: “Stop pretending. You are eight months pregnant, the fetus is stable long ago, you won’t miscarry just because of a little stimulation.” “And old man, when you were injured in a car accident, you happened to hurt there and lost your fertility. My mom was afraid you would be sad, so she hid this matter with the whole family.” “You know how badly you were injured there back then. You wouldn’t really think there was no impact at all, would you?” Frank looked bad: “I believe Doris wouldn’t betray me, this child must be mine.” “Fine, won’t shed tears until seeing the coffin, right.” I reached out, and the guard put another envelope in my hand. I threw the envelope to Frank: “Look for yourself.” Frank opened the envelope, and a stack of photos fell out, all of Doris and men in various explicit bed photos. “Doris, didn’t you say only my dad was your man? Then explain what this is about?” Doris’s eyes were about to pop out, she stopped Frank. “Don’t look, these aren’t true, not true!” Frank trembled all over, he looked at Doris and threw those photos in her face. “Explain clearly to me, what is going on!” “The person in this photo is not me, these are all photoshopped!” Frank could hardly stand, he looked at me: “You must have hired someone to make these photos. I don’t believe it, Doris definitely wouldn’t betray me.” Doris breathed a sigh of relief secretly, then cried and performed. “Serena created such a big scandal for me, I can’t clear my name even if I jump into the Yellow River. I don’t want to live!” Frank quickly held Doris in his arms: “Doris, I believe you, you are definitely not that kind of person.” I shook my head helplessly: “Old man, I think you are really senile. How about this, you go to a public hospital yourself for a check-up, and then do a paternity test with the child in Doris’s belly.” “See if you still have fertility, and if her child is yours. You find the hospital yourself, I can’t fake this, right?” Doris pulled Frank tightly: “Husband, you have to believe me, don’t be provoked by others casually!” “Since you have a clear conscience, why dare not let the old man do a paternity test?” “How about we make a bet? If the child in your belly belongs to the old man, I will kneel and apologize to you, and give up the Azure Dragon Clan.” “If the child in your belly is not the old man’s, you will commit suicide on the spot to apologize, how about it?” Seeing me speak so confidently, Frank’s heart drummed even more. Doris kept crying: “Bet then, who’s afraid of whom, anyway I have a clear conscience!” “You send me to the hospital quickly now, I’m very uncomfortable!” The guards brought two chairs over. I pulled my sister to sit down: “Want to run? The matter with you and the old man is one thing, I haven’t settled the account for Nina with you yet.”

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I went to my childhood friend’s room to give him fruit, but he yelled at me: “Can you stop just barging into my room? We aren’t kids anymore.” He wasn’t wearing headphones. His junior, a girl with a sickeningly sweet voice, was on speakerphone, deliberately provoking me: “Caleb, let’s fall asleep on a voice call tonight too.” I casually agreed and told him not to come into my room anymore either. He sneered: “Who cares?” I thought so too. I went back to my room and happily opened my wardrobe: “You don’t have to hide in here next time. He won’t come into my room again.” Chapter 1 I knocked on the door for a while. There was no movement inside. I pursed my swollen lips, feeling a bit impatient. But Julian was still teasing me through my earphones: “Hiss, it’s so cold.” The sound of metal clinking came from the other end of the line. Just hearing it, I could imagine the vivid scene of him putting a body chain on himself. My voice was dry: “I’ll be back soon, don’t rush.” Then I kicked open Caleb’s door. Smack. Caleb slammed his phone face down on the desk, making a loud noise. Seeing me, a hint of guilty panic flashed in his eyes. I glanced at him casually. No headphones. He was ignoring me on purpose. I didn’t care. I put the fruit on the table and turned to leave. “My mom sent these.” “Caleb, you scared Sweetie.” His voice overlapped with the delicate, whiny voice of Mia “Sweetie” Miller on the phone. Caleb instinctively went to comfort her. Seeing I was about to leave, he grabbed my wrist. The initial guilt turned into anger: “Zoey, can you stop barging into my room? Do you think we’re still kids?” His brows furrowed in annoyance, as if I was pestering him endlessly. Mia chimed in: “Yeah, big sister, boys and girls are different. My mom taught me from a young age not to go into other boys’ rooms.” I was fully focused on listening to Julian’s increasingly rapid breathing through my earphones, my mind elsewhere. I replied casually: “Right, everything you said is right.” But that made Mia cry. Caleb looked at me impatiently, as if I had committed a heinous crime: “Why do you always bully Sweetie? I told you we’re just friends. Do you have to target her all the time?” Chapter 2 Mia even stopped her fake crying. I guessed she was probably rolling her eyes in anger. After all, not long ago I caught her bragging to her socialite sisters that she would take Caleb down within a week. But I was too lazy to tell Caleb that. We’ve been childhood friends for eighteen years. Everyone thought we had a deep bond and assumed we’d marry after graduation. I thought so too. Until Mia appeared. Caleb skipped classes, failed exams, and got into fights for her. The once-promising golden boy willingly degenerated because of Mia’s line: “I don’t make friends with people who are too educated; it puts pressure on me.” I tried to intervene at first, dragging Caleb back to class from the smoke-filled pool hall. But I walked in on him bending over, his body pressed tightly against Mia’s. His large hand wrapped around her small one as they sank the first ball. Mia pretended to be surprised and turned her head to kiss his cheek. Caleb stood frozen, his eyes full of the tenderness of first love. I almost threw up watching it. Caleb discovered my presence and chased after me. The jacket around his waist barely hid his awkward reaction. He begged me, saying they were just friends, and asked me to hide it from his mom. I didn’t believe him, but I was too lazy to care. But obviously, Mia’s brain was full of female competition. She was enjoying her meal but couldn’t believe others didn’t want a bite. She treated me as an imaginary enemy. Last night, Mia sent me a screenshot of her Instagram post. In the picture, they were kissing passionately at the top of a Ferris wheel. The caption read: “Legend has it that lovers who kiss at the highest point of a Ferris wheel will be together forever.” Caleb liked the post. I thought Mia’s dream finally came true. But today Caleb told me they were just friends. Chapter 3 Right, you kissed, but you’re just friends. I held back the urge to roll my eyes. I skillfully hit the point he cared about most: “I won’t tell my godmother, but you have to agree to one condition.” Caleb didn’t speak, but Mia screamed: “Forced love isn’t sweet! Don’t push your luck!” Caleb frowned, clearly agreeing with her. I don’t know where they got the idea that I was desperate for Caleb and deeply in love with him. Thinking I’d seize any opportunity to make Caleb commit to me. I was speechless. Caleb misinterpreted my silence. His eyes held reluctance and a sense of charity: “One week at most.” “No.” One week isn’t enough. I have so many tricks I haven’t played with Julian yet. It’s all Caleb’s fault for having zero boundaries and always barging into my room. I stared at Caleb, hoping he’d realize his rudeness. Caleb looked disgusted and annoyed, with an expression that said “I knew it”: “Zoey, I told you I only see you as a sister.” “You can’t enter my room for at least a month.” My voice rang out at the same time as his. Caleb’s face turned frighteningly ugly. He had just been narcissistic and felt he lost face. Then he thought again, believing I was playing hard to get, and regained his composed posture. He sneered coldly: “Don’t flatter yourself. Who cares?” My goal achieved, I didn’t bother responding and turned to leave. Mia obviously didn’t believe I wasn’t interested in Caleb either. She spoke softly and sweetly: “Caleb, let’s sleep on a voice call tonight.” Caleb deliberately raised his voice: “Okay. As long as it’s you, whatever you say.” I paused, lost in thought. How could I convince Julian to pant for me on a voice call from now on? Chapter 4 I opened my bedroom door; it was empty. I didn’t rush. I gently tapped our secret code. But I still didn’t hear any movement. I knew Julian was angry. I walked up and opened the wardrobe to coax him: “You don’t have to hide in here next time. He won’t come into my room again.” Julian was expressionless, looking nothing like the person who was seducing me through the earphones: “A month?” Obviously, he heard everything just now. I explained while secretly swallowing my saliva. My eyes pitifully followed the chain that was mostly covered by his shirt, only revealing a little bit. I was craving it so bad: “I just said it casually. I embarrassed him in front of someone else. Given his personality, he’ll never come.” “Can you let me see if it fits first, please?” I didn’t know which word triggered him. Julian’s face became even gloomier: “You care so much about him, but you have to hide me.” I was a bit confused: “Didn’t you propose this in the beginning?” I didn’t intend to cross the line with Julian at first. He was my dad’s favorite student. When I was in high school, he was in college. Due to family changes, he stayed at my house for a while. Later we met again at the university anniversary. He returned as an outstanding entrepreneur to give a speech. We looked at each other from a distance. My heart skipped a beat, and I lowered my head in flustered palpitations. Although I had a crush on him, I couldn’t tell how he felt about me. I only secretly thought about how to pursue him. Until one day we were discussing business seriously. Caleb suddenly came back. Julian hid in my wardrobe like a lover caught by the husband. Making me inexplicably nervous. After Caleb left, I opened the wardrobe. The person who was serious just now was curled up, clutching my silk nightgown in his hand. His shirt buttons were half undone, revealing the deep definition of his chest. Acting like a seductress. He hooked his lips frivolously: “Want to try? It’s exciting.” I was at the age where love was blooming; how could I resist such temptation? By the time I reacted, I had already nodded in agreement and was being held in his arms, coaxed into a kiss.

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On a reality show, I steeled myself and called my ex-boyfriend. “Can you lend me five hundred bucks?” From the other end came a voice dripping with sarcasm: “You sure have the nerve to ask.” The next second, a massive transfer notification popped up on the big screen. [Your account has received $50,000,000.00 from account ending in 2222…] Chapter 1 It was a live-streamed variety show. The challenge: Call the person pinned at the top of your contacts and borrow money for the day’s activity fund. I opened my phone, saw the pinned contact, and instantly wanted to die. Damn it. My ex-boyfriend. The one I dumped. I had even sworn a solemn oath never to see him again in this lifetime… My phone screen was projected onto the big stage monitor. The contact name I gave him was clearly visible: AAA Julian Thorne. The other guests saw the name and froze with subtle expressions. [??? Is that the Julian Thorne I’m thinking of?!] [Who? A celebrity?] [He’s way more powerful than a celebrity! Authentic old money, his family is loaded.] [He accidentally showed his face at a business summit once, and thousands of girls have been drooling over him since. He’s been topping the ‘Business World’s Most Eligible Bachelors’ list ever since.] [Eligible Bachelor?!! I’m screaming hehehe!] [Get real, he doesn’t have time to lower himself to be friends with a shallow celebrity like Evelyn Vance.] [Exactly. Even if it’s him, look at Evelyn’s awkward face. She probably tried to climb the social ladder and failed, now she’s scared the call will expose her~] The bullet screen comments were going wild. The host, never one to shy away from drama, chimed in. “Netizens are very curious, is this the Mr. Thorne everyone is thinking of?” Just as I was about to deny it, the rising starlet Chloe West leaned in. “Judging by the profile picture, it does look like him, but we can’t be 100% sure~” Seeing she had everyone’s attention, she covered her mouth in feigned surprise. “Oops, sorry, I didn’t mean to say that.” “Because the person I’m going to call is also him!” “Evelyn, you go first~” She waved her phone at me, her smile sickly sweet. The camera perfectly captured her pinned contact name—[AAA Julian Bear] The host was surprised. “Your contact name…” Chloe quickly covered her phone as if waking from a dream, smiling shyly. “Oh, I just wrote whatever.” “I wouldn’t have shown everyone if I knew!” Me: … Wow, what a middle-school level ambiguous nickname. Aren’t you special! Chapter 2 I couldn’t be bothered with her, so I gave a perfunctory smile. Then, under the gaze of tens of thousands online and offline, I bit the bullet and dialed the number. The long, ringing tone echoed through the studio hall. An eerie silence spread. Finally, the call was picked up. Silence on the other end. With the amplified sound in the studio, only steady breathing and faint conversation in the distance could be heard. My throat was dry. I decided to exchange a few pleasantries. “Are you in a meeting?” Julian: “Mm.” The man cherishes words like gold, showing zero emotion. “Is it convenient to talk?” Julian: “Mm.” ??? Mm mm mm, mm your mom?! Since we broke up, I didn’t know you had devolved into a creature that only speaks in monosyllables?! Guests cast inquiring glances. Chloe blinked her eyes, putting on a sympathetic look. Damn it, let this farce end quickly… “Um, I wanted to borrow five hundred bucks from you.” “If you don’t want to, it’s fine.” Even without a picture, I knew there was a moment of silence on the other end, followed by a low chuckle. “You sure have the nerve to ask.” Julian’s voice dropped at the end. Like a clear stream in early spring where the ice hasn’t fully melted, his smile carried a chill. Sure enough, the next second, beep beep beep beep… The call was cut off completely, without hesitation. Ah, seriously bro?! You own half the office buildings in the CBD. And you won’t even lend five hundred bucks to your ex-girlfriend? Stingy much!!!! I laughed awkwardly under everyone’s gaze. “Sorry, we really aren’t that close.” Chloe patted my shoulder understandingly. “Julian is indeed busy at this time usually, he might not have time for these small matters.” “It’s okay, let me try.” “As long as we get the money in the end~” … Chapter 3 Hehe, you’re really good at playing the bitch. My business is a small matter, your business is a big deal, right? Just like those annoying “help me slash the price” links. If I didn’t want my relationship with Julian Thorne to be known by everyone, would you still be jumping around like this?! I pursed my lips. “Go ahead then.” [What the hell, Evelyn got nothing from the big shot, so now she’s taking it out on our Chloe with a cold face?] [Chloe is clearly trying to help her out of an awkward situation!] [Er, does no one think what Chloe said was a bit problematic too?] [Exactly, not snapping back on the spot shows a lot of class.] [The two above are overly sensitive.] [Chloe has always spoken faster than her brain, she doesn’t have bad intentions, everyone in the circle knows that.] [Evelyn is just jealous. The person she couldn’t latch onto is wrapped around Chloe’s finger. Of course she’s triggered.] [Yes, Ms. Sarcastic is about to get slapped in the face.] I ignored the comments and focused on watching Chloe act. Her call was picked up in seconds. A stark contrast to mine. … Ahhh damn man, you made me lose so much face!!! “What is it?” Julian’s voice was even flatter than before. “Julian Bear, I’m having afternoon tea outside.” “But my card got frozen for some reason, can you transfer me some money for an emergency?” Her deliberately elongated tone added a touch of coquettishness to her words. Julian paused. “Got it.” ??? Just broke up and you already have a new lover?! Good, good, very good!!! I almost gritted my teeth to control my expression. The scheming production team, wanting drama, didn’t take down my projection. Instead, they placed it next to Chloe’s. Occupying both sides of the big screen. Everyone held their breath and stared. Afraid to miss any transfer notification. Ding~ [Your account has received $1,000.00 from account ending in 7144.] The notification sound came from Chloe’s phone. She looked back with a hint of smugness. “Evelyn, we have money!” As soon as she finished speaking, another notification sound overlapped. On the big screen, a message popped up at the top of my phone interface— [Your account has received $50,000,000.00 from account ending in 2222.] ??? Chapter 4 Ending in 2222?! That’s the private card Julian uses most often! My brain went blank as I tapped the message open. Everyone saw that transfer record. Guests and the host all gasped, staring at that string of numbers, unable to recover for a long time. Ones, tens, hundreds, thousands, ten thousands, hundred thousands, millions, ten millions?! Julian Thorne, are you sick?! Hanging up on me inexplicably was one thing, but transferring fifty million? I’ve only seen this much money when burning hell money for ancestors! Do you want to send me straight to the afterlife? To be the security captain for the Grim Reaper?! If netizens dig this up, with this ridiculous amount, it’s hard not to think we’re an adulterous couple!!! [Haha, got slapped in the face, right?] [Asking for money the same way, Julian wouldn’t refuse Chloe, transferred it eagerly.] [The setting of pure starlet x business tycoon is so ship-worthy!] [Slapped my ass, Evelyn got fifty million in one go, who cares about Julian’s one thousand bucks!] [Omg, I can’t even count the zeros!] [Who transferred to Evelyn? Is it also Julian?] [No wonder the atmosphere was subtle when they were calling just now.] [Evelyn fans open your eyes, the account endings are different. Still trying to leech?!] [LMAO, Evelyn is probably being kept as a mistress.] *[I remember she always had good resources, so reasonable guess, she’s hooking up with a fifty-million sugar daddy, while eyeing Julian because he’s young, single and rich, wanting to eat him…] [Too bad, Julian doesn’t even look at her~] [Speechless, are the commenters bots?] [Can’t live without hating women or conspiracy theories?] [Please, not everyone loves licking the boots of the powerful.] [Those are Chloe fans, right?] [I can only say fans resemble their idol~] Seconds before being drowned in spit. My survival instinct kicked in. “I forgot, today happens to be the studio settlement day.” “Made everyone laugh.” Chloe looked over suspiciously, her eyes unfriendly. I returned a cold expression. Believe it or not! Not my fault anyway! Go find Julian Thorne if you have the guts!!!

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Three years after my death, the one keeping my wife company is still the bionic android I meticulously crafted. It looks exactly like me, programmed with all my speech patterns and habits from when I was alive. The only difference is, it never gets angry at her. So, my wife hasn’t noticed anything wrong. Instead, she brings different men home every night, trying to provoke me, wanting to see me driven mad with jealousy. Until one day, her childhood sweetheart pushed “me” off the balcony. My wife watched in horror as she realized—”I” didn’t seem to bleed… Chapter 1 Crash! A deafening noise echoed as “I” hit the manicured lawn of the villa’s courtyard. It sounded like parts were falling off my body. The culprit who pushed “me” leaned over the railing, shouting with fake panic, “Chloe! Bad news! Julian jumped!” Chloe Vance, my wife. Hearing the shout, she walked over leisurely, her tone dripping with disdain. “Jumped? You mean Julian Sterling? He certainly knows how to seek attention, coming up with such a stupid way to get me to notice him.” “Fine, I’ll humor him this once.” There wasn’t a shred of worry on Chloe’s face. Instead, she glanced down as if granting a favor. Even though she clearly saw “me” lying motionless on the grass. Chloe’s expression remained completely unmoved. “Enough, Julian. Stop pretending. I’m talking to you now, you can stop this act.” She thought that since she deigned to speak, I would definitely crawl up gratefully, as if receiving a heavenly blessing. But after waiting a long time, she didn’t get the reaction she wanted. Chloe’s face fell completely. She warned me, “Julian Sterling, don’t push your luck. My patience is limited!” The man beside her, Liam Black, said deliberately, “Chloe, maybe we should go down and take a look? What if something really happened?” Chloe sneered, “It’s only the third floor, not the thirtieth. Falling from here is just a scratch. Could it really kill him?” This villa only has three floors. Falling normally probably wouldn’t be fatal, but injuries are guaranteed. And if I landed on the back of my head, it could be deadly. Chloe seemed to ignore this, or maybe she just didn’t care whether I lived or died. If I really died in front of her, she’d probably be happier. Unfortunately, I died a long time ago. I can’t die a second time. Three years later, Chloe still hasn’t realized. The “me” lying on the ground, the one who has been by her side for three full years—isn’t the real me. It’s just a companion android I painstakingly created. As for me, having failed my “mission,” the System already destroyed my physical body. My soul, however, remained in this world, ending up inside this robot’s body by mistake. I can’t control its actions, nor do I need to. In appearance and programming, it’s identical to the living me. The chip in its brain holds all my memories. Chapter 2 The joints in “my” body were dislocated and jammed, leaving me immobile for a moment. I entered a temporary system crash. Of course, Chloe couldn’t see these anomalies. She raised an eyebrow mockingly. “Stop playing dead, Julian. Do you expect me to come down personally to help you up?” Finally, amidst her taunts, “I” slowly climbed up from the ground. After the reboot, the system was running normally again. But my posture was extremely awkward. “Chloe, look at Julian’s leg. It looks strange. Did he break a bone?” “He’s young; he’s not that fragile.” Chloe didn’t care. “It was Julian who decided to jump. If he broke something, he deserves it. He has to take responsibility for his own actions. Liam, don’t worry about this idiot.” “Besides, what’s a few broken bones for a grown man? He’ll heal in a while. Don’t be so dramatic.” Liam chuckled. “Right, Chloe, do you remember?” “When we were kids, the neighbor’s dog fell from upstairs and was jumping around in no time. Julian shouldn’t be worse than a dog, right?” He called me “Julian” familiarly, but his tone held no respect. Chloe isn’t stupid; she heard it. She just didn’t care if others insulted me because it suited her. Especially when the one saying it was her childhood sweetheart, her “White Moonlight.” They came down to the yard together. Liam deliberately ran up to me, pretending to be concerned. “Julian, you really scared me just now. Why were you so desperate? Are you okay?” Chloe coldly watched “my” strange stance. Besides that, I was covered in dirt, and my clothes were torn by branches. I looked dirty and pathetic. Seemingly disgusted, Chloe clicked her tongue and didn’t come closer. She said, “Julian Sterling, your acting is truly terrible.” She glanced at the spot where “I” had fallen. In the grass lay a strange object, like a mechanical part, reflecting a faint metallic glint in the night. She must have seen it, but didn’t think much of it. She sighed lightly, “Pity the flowers got crushed.” I knew she cared about Liam the most. But I never thought… That a random plant in the yard would be worth more to her than my life. My devotion all these years felt like a joke. “Julian, what you did scared Liam.” Chloe pointed at me. “Here’s the deal. Apologize to Liam, and we’ll let this pass. I won’t hold you accountable for jumping.” Listen to how absurd that is. Jumping off a building became my fault. Liam pushed “me” with his own hands, yet she wanted me to apologize to the murderer. “My” voice module was still glitching; I opened my mouth but no sound came out. My silence displeased Chloe even more. “You didn’t jump earlier or later, but chose to jump right when I brought Liam home.” “Julian, if you’re jealous that I’m close to Liam, just say it! Just tell me you’re jealous! What’s the point of making a scene at home?” Her tone became increasingly agitated. I was somewhat surprised. Did Chloe still remember that this villa was our home? Yet she brought different men back repeatedly and brazenly, just to humiliate me, to provoke me, wanting to see me mad with jealousy. But she was destined to be disappointed. This robot was created with a core directive: to replace me and love Chloe forever. So it would never show Chloe a cold face or impatience. It wouldn’t get angry, wouldn’t get jealous. It would have no opinion on anything she did. Isn’t this the perfect husband Chloe always wanted? Why is she still unsatisfied? Chapter 3 Chloe brought Liam home the day before yesterday. Counting the days, that should have been the anniversary of my death. I still remember before I died, writhing in pain on the floor, trying to reach for painkillers but my hands shaking uncontrollably, spilling pills everywhere. And the blood I vomited, splattered all over the floor. I begged the System for a favor: to call Chloe. I just wanted to hear her voice one last time. One word would have been enough. Chloe didn’t answer. She was at the airport seeing Liam off, busy saying goodbye. The System even broadcasted the scene for me. They hugged tightly. Liam kissed her, and Chloe only turned her head slightly, not dodging. To anyone watching, they looked like lovers reluctant to part. Pale-faced, I silently activated the robot I had prepared long ago. I closed my eyes and never opened them again. The System cleaned up my body. It asked me: [Host, you voluntarily gave up the chance to complete the mission and transferred the cancer cells meant for the target to yourself.] [Do you truly not regret it?] My soul floated there, and I said, I don’t regret it. My mission in this world was to “conquer” Chloe. So I knew her early on. I knew her as long as Liam did, but I watched silently and truly fell in love with this lively, kind girl. She would give her pocket money to beggars and help old ladies cross the street. Once, I pretended to be in trouble, and Chloe saw me. As expected, she helped me. That’s how we met. And successfully fell in love. One day, Chloe fainted during a date. I rushed her to the hospital, only to find she had a hereditary terminal illness. The cancer was spreading fast; she didn’t have much time. As long as I stayed with her until the end, my mission would be complete. But I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t watch her die. I loved Chloe, so I was willing to give the chance of life to her. The System was silent for a long time after hearing my answer, then said: [In that case, I will let you stay in this world a little longer to watch.] So, my soul remained. For three whole years, Chloe didn’t realize the “me” at home was fake. She grew more tired of me, coming home less and less each year. Every time she returned, she had a different man by her side, openly, never hiding it. Rumors spread in our circle that I, Julian Sterling, the rightful husband of the Sterling heiress, wore a green hat so tall it touched the sky, yet didn’t dare make a peep. An absolute disgrace of a man. I smiled bitterly. I never thought things would end up like this between us. Voices came from outside the house. “Chloe, bringing me here so late… won’t Julian be angry? It’s not good if he gets jealous. Maybe I shouldn’t stay here.” Chloe was silent for a moment, then said, “Ignore him. In this house, I make the rules. Julian Sterling doesn’t dare have an opinion.” Liam praised her laughingly, “As expected of the great Miss Vance, you really know how to train a husband.” Chloe didn’t continue the topic but called my name coldly: “Julian, get out here. Can’t you hear we have guests?” The door opened, and “I” walked out. “I” proactively bent down to get their slippers, moving skillfully as if I’d done it countless times. Chloe remained expressionless. Liam, however, looked at me in disbelief, as if seeing a ghost. “Hey, Julian, don’t you recognize me?” “I” looked at him and accurately stated his identity. Liam laughed exaggeratedly. “Three years no see, Julian has changed so much. It’s surprising.” Chloe’s lips pressed tighter together. Her eyes were mocking. “He just loves to pretend. Everyone knows what he was like before, acting like that petty, jealous man wasn’t him.” “Acting so magnanimous now. I want to see how long he can keep it up.” Chapter 4 In the past, Liam and I never got along. Whenever we clashed, Chloe always sided with Liam without asking for reasons. When I was alive, it hurt. Now, it doesn’t matter. At dinner, Liam coughed. Chloe immediately ordered me: “What are you standing there for? Pour him some water!” “I” turned to the kitchen and poured a glass of warm water. Liam wasn’t satisfied: “Too cold. I want hot water. The hottest kind, understand?” So “I” went back and got him a glass of boiling water. A glint flashed in Liam’s eyes. As he took the cup, he let go, and boiling water splashed onto the back of my hand. So childish. This robot is waterproof and heatproof. But Chloe didn’t know that. In her eyes, I was still a normal, living person. Normal human skin couldn’t withstand such temperature. “Liam, are you okay?” Yet when Chloe spoke, her concern was for Liam. “I’m fine, Chloe. Julian probably just slipped. Don’t blame him.” Only then did Chloe spare me a glance. “What use are you? You can’t do anything right, can’t even serve a glass of water properly.” “I” wasn’t even qualified to sit at the table, standing humbly to the side, listening to her scolding. How ridiculous this scene was. I was the master of this house, yet I had to serve her and her lover like a waiter. Because this was her order. The highest priority command in the program settings. I knew Liam was different from the other men Chloe brought home. He was the special one. So even if I said he pushed “me” off the balcony, Chloe wouldn’t believe it. “I” limped back into the house, occasionally touching the back of my head. Chloe suddenly frowned and called me, “Julian, are you really hurt?” “I” stopped and shook my head at her. I used to hide my sickness and injuries from Chloe, not wanting her to worry. The robot was programmed the same way. Chloe fell into thought. Maybe she recalled how “I” landed earlier—indeed on the back of my head. She sighed, as if compromising, walked over, and yanked “my” arm. “Let me see. Did you fall and become an idiot…” Chloe reached for the back of “my” head, parting the hair. She felt a slight dent. But no blood. None at all. “I” fell from the third floor, hit the ground, dented my skull, but didn’t bleed. Her eyes were filled with doubt and fear. Her gaze lingered there for a long time, and finally, she smirked. She must have thought I had prepared protective measures in advance. “Julian, if you’re going to play the victim, put some effort into it.” “Jumping off a building, faking an injury… you’ve actually learned to use such tactics to get my attention. Impressive.” She sounded sarcastic. Or maybe not. Back in the room, “I” lay on the bed. Robots don’t need sleep; it was in hibernation mode, self-repairing. I didn’t expect Chloe to come. She stood by the bed, looking down at me with complex eyes. “Change your trick next time. You know I hate people threatening me with their lives.” “I didn’t.” Voice function restored, sounding normal. Chloe looked cold. “Julian, are you going to keep pretending even now?” “You used to hate Liam the most. You’d fight every time you met. I knew you were jealous, so I told you to stop competing with him.” “Do you have to hold a grudge until today?” I don’t understand. What does Chloe want from me to be satisfied? She didn’t like the living Julian who got jealous and threw tantrums because she was close to other men. Now, she still doesn’t like the robot Julian who obeys her every word. Maybe she just doesn’t like Julian Sterling, period. “I” sat up in bed, looking at Chloe in confusion. With a cold face, she climbed up and straddled “me.” She asked, “Julian, do you still love me?” I should be the one asking her that. But “I” answered, “Chloe, I will love you forever.” Chloe’s face softened slightly. She leaned in, lying on “my” chest, listening to the heartbeat I simulated, and the faint— “Where is that buzzing sound coming from?” Chloe looked suspicious, glancing around the room, but didn’t pay much attention. “Julian, since you say you love me, prove it with actions.” She reached out to undo “my” belt. For the first time in three years, she initiated intimacy with me.

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I had been chewed out by my boss today and worked late, dragging my exhausted body back to the home I shared with Dr. Julian Thorne. As soon as I opened the door, Julian, sitting upright at his desk, said without changing his expression, “Change your slippers, take a shower.” I took a deep breath. Having just been criticized by my boss, maybe the anger went to my head, or maybe I just snapped. Tears of grievance fell. Instead of changing my slippers, I carelessly threw my bag and lay directly on the sofa. “Julian, let’s break up.” Julian didn’t even look up, ignoring my words directly. “Looks like the sofa cover needs to be thrown away tomorrow, and the floor needs to be mopped.” I gritted my teeth and repeated clearly, word by word, “Julian, let’s, break, up!” This was the sixth time I had brought up breaking up in half a year. I admit I like Julian and can’t bear to leave him, but I really can’t stand it anymore. Not just because he has mysophobia, but because he has mysophobia towards me too. In the year we’ve been together, holding hands can be counted on one hand—only once. Kissing, hugging, all the things couples should do, we’ve never done. Just because Julian is a person who loves cleanliness so much that he washes his hands three times after shaking hands with a friend. What’s even more hateful is that in the two months we lived together, we slept in separate rooms. I couldn’t enter his room. The first thing I had to do when I got home was change my slippers and take a shower. Even going to the toilet required cleaning it seriously with toilet bowl cleaner first, and doing the same operation afterwards. Once I got lazy and just flushed with water. As a result, Julian replaced the toilet the next day. A miserable life, a miserable me! I knew clearly that Julian didn’t love me. I wasn’t the special one, and I couldn’t be the special one in the future. Chapter 1 Julian finally looked up at me, his captivating eyes glancing at me slightly. I couldn’t see the emotion in his eyes clearly, only feeling they were exceptionally calm. He said, “Thought it through?” My heart suddenly clenched. The last time we broke up, Julian asked the same thing. At that time, I eventually softened spinelessly. How could liking someone be so easily let go? But this time, I didn’t intend to compromise. If he didn’t love me! Why did he accept my confession in the first place? If he didn’t want to touch a finger of mine, why did he agree to live with me? I didn’t want to live days like this for another second. Being with Julian, I lived in fear like a stranger for a year. I also wanted to do nothing when I got home, lie on the sofa and scroll through my phone, instead of changing slippers, showering, and constantly worrying about dirtying his territory. I wiped away my tears and sat up. “Thought it through.” “I’ll pack my luggage and move out later.” Julian frowned, giving me a deep look, but ultimately didn’t ask me to stay. “Okay, do you want me to call a car for you?” I clutched my chest, took a deep breath, and muttered to myself, “Don’t be angry, don’t be angry, don’t argue with an idiot…” I got up and went back to my room to pack my luggage angrily, looking like I was running away from home. But when I got to the door, the more I thought about it, the more unwilling I felt. Why should I be so uncomfortable, while Julian could remain unmoved? No, I had to make him uncomfortable too. I couldn’t bear this pain alone. So I dropped my luggage and walked aggressively towards Julian at the desk. Julian rarely showed a trace of confusion. “Chloe Vance, what do you want to do?” But why would I explain? I just forced myself on him, grabbing Julian’s collar and kissing him. Then I bit his lip in revenge. Not only that, I reached out and touched his chest all over. Before Julian had a chance to react, I ran away dragging my luggage. Behind me came Julian’s roar, “Chloe Vance! Are you crazy!” That was my first kiss with him, and also the last. News of my breakup with Julian spread quickly. After moving out of his apartment, I met with the manager who tried to poach me to their company last time. It was a state-owned enterprise, but they had always cooperated with foreign companies. After discussing the salary and benefits, I bought a plane ticket without hesitation and flew out of this city that broke my heart. Just a week into the new company, I won the opportunity to go abroad for training and further studies based on my previous excellent performance. I admit I wanted to escape. I didn’t want to see Julian again because I was afraid I would soften again. Sitting on the plane flying abroad, looking at the countable and not intimate photos with Julian in my phone album, tears fell again. Then I reached out and deleted them all. Julian, I will make you regret not cherishing me properly! Crying and crying, I was afraid of ruining my expensive makeup, so I picked up my portable mirror and wiped my tears… After half a year of further studies, I returned to the new company and worked hard for the boss. Gradually… I missed Julian less. Perhaps this is the power of time. I made a cup of coffee boredly. Footsteps sounded behind me. I didn’t look back, but the man behind me called my name, “Chloe Vance, still working overtime?” I turned to look at the person who came. It was our department’s new colleague, Ryan Moore. He was also very hardworking. Compared to me back then, he was even more so. When he first arrived, I teased him, “Are you also heartbroken?” At that time, he answered me, “Yes.” Probably out of mutual pity, we quickly became familiar. Sometimes we traveled together on business, closer than best buddies. I took a sip of coffee. “Isn’t it obvious?” Ryan laughed. “Be careful you don’t go bald.” I rolled my eyes at him. “Nothing good comes out of a dog’s mouth.” Ryan said again after a while, “There’s a party tomorrow night. Do me a favor?” I said directly, “No.” Ding ding, Venmo notification: Ryan Moore transferred you $5000. I accepted it happily, then looked up at him. “I take back what I just said. Say it, what favor? As long as I can do it, I’ll go through fire and water to get it done for you.” Ryan had a sly expression. “Pretend to be my girlfriend.” I said shamelessly, “Add another thousand.” Ryan twitched the corner of his mouth. “Pleasure doing business.” The next night, I wore a hot, waist-cinching red dress and followed Ryan into the party venue. Although my figure wasn’t particularly great, it was considered above average, and my face wasn’t bad. Ryan would definitely look good. Ryan greeted his friends enthusiastically and then introduced me to them. Adhering to professional ethics, I held Ryan’s arm, looking intimate. When the crowd dispersed a bit, my peripheral vision paused, and my smile froze on my face. Not for anything else, but because I saw an incredibly familiar figure, a figure I had escaped for two years but hadn’t forgotten. My gaze followed that man step by step as he walked over. Julian Thorne. The person I would recognize even if he turned to ashes. Seeing Julian arrive, Ryan immediately perked up. “Dr. Thorne, you’re finally here. We’ve been waiting for you for a long time.” “This is my girlfriend, Chloe Vance.” Chapter 2 I forced an awkward smile. Julian’s gaze remained on me, and then I heard his deep voice, “Chloe, Vance? Your girlfriend?” As soon as these words came out, I suddenly felt the air turn cold. Must be an illusion. I swallowed. Chloe Vance! What are you afraid of? You’ve already broken up, you have nothing to do with each other! After some mental comfort, I adjusted my state, raised a smile, and extended my hand. “Hello, Dr. Thorne.” Julian held his wine glass and didn’t extend his hand for a long time. I knew he definitely wouldn’t. This person with severe mysophobia, who washes his hands three times after shaking hands with friends, how could he shake hands with me, especially his detestable ex-girlfriend. I still remember, after I forced myself on him, Julian looked shocked. His neat white shirt was messed up by me, and there were beads of blood on his lips from my bite. Like an abstinent male god being ravaged. Thinking about it, I felt a little excited inside? Seeing Julian staring at me without extending his hand, Ryan tried to pull my hand back to alleviate the awkwardness. But the next second, Julian reached out and shook my hand. “Hello, Chloe Vance.” I almost thought Julian was going to say, long time no see, my detestable ex-girlfriend. What shocked me even more was that Julian actually shook my hand! Could it be that after two years, this man has reformed? I gave a suspicious smirk, then quickly withdrew my hand and linked arms with Ryan again. Ryan laughed heartily. “I didn’t expect the always germaphobic Dr. Thorne to be willing to initiate a handshake. Haven’t seen you for a year, you’ve changed a lot, at least acting like a normal person…” Seeming to realize his words were a bit inappropriate, Ryan quickly said apologetically, “No no no, I didn’t mean that hahaha.” Julian didn’t mind, didn’t even look at him, but glanced at me and said, “It’s fine, what you said is indeed correct.” Me: “Hehe, hehe.” Why don’t I believe it at all. Julian turned and left after chatting for a bit. My heart itched. When no one was around, I pulled Ryan to whisper, “How do you know this Dr. Thorne? I haven’t heard you mention him as a friend before?” Ryan said, “Ah, a year ago I had a car accident near his place and went into the emergency room. At that time he despised me because my wounds had motor oil, my clothes were full of sand, and my sweat stank. I tell you, I fainted but could be woken up by his anger.” “Later I found out he was a severe germaphobe and thought it was quite interesting. It took a lot of effort to win him over as a friend.” I almost couldn’t hold back my laughter. I asked again, “Then why did he come all the way to your party today? Isn’t he very busy?” Ryan looked at me with burning eyes. “How do you know he’s very busy?” I was speechless for a moment, then twisted my tongue. “Aren’t doctors all like that? Maybe there’s an emergency patient anytime.” Speaking of this, I recalled my sad history. Since I confessed to Julian and got together with him, Julian had been busy every day. So busy that I might not even say a few words to him a day. Most of the time I was curled up on the sofa watching TV by myself. Boyfriend in name only. Yet, I bravely stayed with Julian for a year. I admired myself too. Ryan seemed to stop doubting and said, “True. But recently, he came here on a business trip. Heard it’s for a transfer. The provincial hospital invited him several times, but I guess Julian probably won’t come here to develop.” I was startled. Transfer? Come here to develop? Isn’t this killing me? Back then I tried so hard to escape the sad place where he was. Now Julian has a chance to come here to develop? But since he refused several times, it’s probably unlikely. Thinking of this, my heart went back into my stomach. Ryan leaned in mysteriously. “What? You fancy him?” I rolled my eyes at him. “Would you fancy an abnormal person?” Ryan thought about it and felt it made sense. “Sigh, seems like anyone who fancies Julian probably has some cleanliness issues like him.” Me: “?” I felt like I was being scolded. Ryan was called away by other friends to drink and brag, and I wasn’t suitable for that scene. I drank too much wine and wanted to go to the bathroom. But just walking out of the banquet hall, I saw a figure on the railing. Dressed in a suit, but in my eyes, I could see him in a white coat saving lives, doing surgery with those good-looking long hands while despising the patient for being dirty here and there. I suddenly couldn’t hold back a laugh, then lightened my footsteps, planning to slip away. I simply didn’t know how to face Julian. But I only moved two steps before being stopped by a familiar voice, “Chloe Vance, where are you planning to run this time?” Indeed, when it rains, it pours. I took a deep breath, then turned around calmly. “Oh my, isn’t this Dr. Thorne? I don’t seem to know you very well. Where I run to has nothing to do with you, right?” Julian squinted and walked towards me aggressively. I felt the pressure. “Not very well? Can’t I care about my ex-girlfriend?” Care. This word actually came out of Julian’s mouth. I thought he never cared about people. I forced a smile awkwardly. “Dr. Thorne, you seem to have forgotten, we have already broken up.” Julian was tall, fully a head and a half taller than me. Looking straight, my eyes could only see his chest. Seeing his chest, I thought of the forced kiss scene two years ago. Today he was also wearing a suit with a white shirt inside, tied with a neat bow tie, exuding an aura of abstinence. My heart screamed, Chloe Vance! I knew how could you be that kind of abnormal person, you definitely chased Julian because you coveted his beauty. “You are Ryan’s girlfriend?” I was stunned, not expecting Julian to ask such an idiotic question. Didn’t I just introduce us to him? “Yes.” “Break up with him. Not allowed to see him again.” I looked up at him in surprise. Still those captivating eyes, but this time, they were no longer calm, no longer waveless, but had anger, even exuding a liveliness. I got angry. “Are you sick? Go get treated if you are sick.” After saying that, I didn’t intend to entangle with him anymore and turned to leave. But the next second, my wrist was grabbed by Julian. A strong force pulled me into his arms, and Julian’s low voice sounded in my ear, “Chloe Vance, two years no see, you’ve really grown capable.” Then, after finishing, he actually kissed my earlobe voluntarily, then bit it lightly. My brain exploded instantly. Julian must be sick today. Not only did he hug me voluntarily, but he also kissed me. “Julian Thorne! Let go of me. What do you mean? Believe it or not, I’ll sue you for molesting a married woman?” Chapter 3 My forehead throbbed twice, and I coughed, “I told you I have a boyfriend.” Julian suddenly laughed, “Boyfriend? Ryan already confessed everything. Said you scammed him out of six thousand dollars.” Me, “…” At this moment, another familiar voice called me again, “Chloe…” Ryan walked out from inside and closed the door, “You guys know each other, don’t you?” This matter definitely couldn’t be covered up anymore; had to admit it. “Yeah, he is my, um, somewhat abnormal ex-boyfriend.” I originally thought Ryan would gossip about us very much, but he just looked at Julian with some hostility, then said, “He harassed you just now?” I nodded vigorously. Julian squinted his captivating eyes, looking very angry. Ryan pulled me over and said to Julian, “Although I treat you as a friend, Julian, since you didn’t keep Chloe two years ago, why come to harass her now?” Makes a lot of sense. But when I looked up and saw the loss flashing in Julian’s eyes, my heart tightened unconsciously again. Then, Ryan took me away in front of Julian. We didn’t go back to the party but got directly into the car. I was distracted all the way until Ryan called me, and I came back to my senses. “Chloe, do you still like Julian?” Inexplicably, I heard the caution in Ryan’s tone. I paused and didn’t make a sound. I couldn’t answer. The car was very quiet. Finally, I heard Ryan give a bitter laugh and say with forced ease, “I know. By the way, thanks for pretending to be my girlfriend today. In the future, you won’t be able to scam my money. I’ll take you home.” I wasn’t a girl experiencing first love; of course, I knew Ryan’s subtle feelings. So I said, “Sorry.” “No need to trouble you. I’ll take a taxi back myself later.” My tone was polite and distant. Ryan watched me get out of the passenger seat but didn’t stop me. The car stopped in front of me for about a minute and finally drove away. I took a taxi all the way home and sat on the sofa in a daze for a long time. Two years later, I thought I had let go long ago. But the moment I saw Julian, the high wall I worked so hard to build in my heart collapsed without attack. Fragile beyond imagination. The more I thought about it, the sadder I got. Finally, turning grief into appetite, I tearfully ordered barbecue and fried chicken. I only drank alcohol at the banquet just now, so of course I was hungry now. As a result, I ate myself into the hospital in the middle of the night. The cause was gastritis. I realized that living alone these two years was really comfortable. I could do nothing when I got home, lie on the sofa and play with my phone, order takeout when hungry, drink soda when thirsty. It affected my stomach more or less. In a daze, I suddenly remembered that during the year I was with Julian, although he demanded perfection in my personal affairs, he would also knock on the door every day to call me up for meals. Meals he cooked personally. It’s just that every time I ate, I would be despised by him. For example: you dropped rice grains; can you use serving chopsticks to pick up food; can you not spill the soup. It seems his mysophobia is always the most vivid thing, vivid enough to make people forget everything else about him. I ended up in the provincial hospital, as luck would have it, and saw Julian’s familiar face again. That was the first time I saw him look panicked. Behind him followed a group of doctors in white coats. Then I was pushed away by him. I became a patient under his care. I endured the severe pain in my stomach and asked, “You’re not a doctor here, why are you taking charge?” Julian said without changing his expression, “Will be in the future.” My heart was dead ashes, and I didn’t speak again. At this time, Julian raised his hand and wiped my mouth with his fingers gloved in medical gloves. I felt something was wrong. Sure enough, Julian raised an eyebrow, “Fried chicken? Or barbecue?” “Shut up.” The nurse beside me comforted me while saying, “Don’t worry. Might need a gastroscopy. Do you want it directly or under general anesthesia? General anesthesia requires a family member’s signature.” I was shocked. I fear nothing in heaven or on earth, but I am most afraid of injections and surgeries. Thinking of seeing others do gastroscopy before, such a thick tube shoved directly down the throat, I was scared to death. “General anesthesia, I want general anesthesia.” The nurse nodded, “Okay, where is your family member?” I suddenly remembered that I am actually an orphan with no parents. When I was a senior in high school, my parents died in a car accident. I finished college relying on that little compensation and scholarships. Where in this world do I have family members? Julian glanced at me, then said to the nurse, “Go get the consent form. I am her family member. I’ll sign.” I gave Julian a weird look, but the severe pain in my abdomen made me unable to speak at all. One shot of anesthetic and I was unconscious. When I woke up, I was lying in a hospital bed, and a nurse was checking my IV. I swallowed my dry throat and asked, “Nurse sister, where is that Dr. Thorne?” That nurse was the one who gave me the anesthesia. She looked down at me. “Dr. Thorne went back to his hospital. He can only come here for duty in two days.” My eyes were dizzy. “He agreed to transfer?” The nurse held back a laugh and nodded. “Yes, after all, his family is here. Can he not transfer?” I twitched my lips and denied, “I’m not his family.” The nurse looked unbelieving. “Then last night…” Me, “Can you expect an abnormal person to say normal things?” Nurse, “…” Lying in bed waiting for the anesthesia to wear off, I suddenly remembered that I had to work today. I hurriedly turned on my phone and looked at the time displayed on it. 10:30 AM. I lay back dejectedly, unlocked the phone, intending to explain to the manager. But as soon as I opened it, ding ding ding, several messages came. It was the manager’s message box, three messages sent at 9 AM: “Old Liu! When did you get married?” “Hid it deep enough.” “If you’re not feeling well, I’ll give you a week off. Remember to report on time next week, or your bonus will be gone.” Scrolling up further, it clearly recorded that someone took my phone and made dozens of calls in the middle of the night yesterday, the last one connecting for more than two minutes. I could guess with my toes who did it, and could guess what Julian said. In the afternoon, I slipped back home with the medicine prescribed by the hospital, vowing to eat healthy in the future, three meals a day on time. Planned silently in my heart, then immediately broke the rule upon returning home, nestling on the sofa drinking takeout porridge while watching a drama. Scrolled through my phone when bored. In the work group, someone resigned. That person was Ryan. Immediately after, Ryan sent me a message, “I’m leaving, Chloe. Hope you and Dr. Thorne can be happy.”

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I’m Sienna Reid, a D-list actress with crippling social anxiety. The constant pressure of the job is brutal, and my only lifeline is scrolling through videos of ridiculously muscular men. In real life, I’m the human embodiment of a mute button—quiet, apologetic, and meek. Online? I’m an absolute menace, firing off the kind of racy, unhinged comments that would get my agent fired. Every day, I unleash a torrent of thirst under various Gym Gods’ videos: “The top half is getting boring. When are we going to see the lower-body circuit?” “Just short-circuited my charging cable. That gaze is electric.” “It’s not th*rst, it’s an appreciation for nature’s finest bloom. Not looking would be a criminal waste of beauty.” I honestly thought everyone else was just messing around, too—a collective online roleplay. I never thought anyone would take me seriously. Then someone did. He was blocking my hotel room door, casually letting his shirt hang open just enough to show that bulging, sculpted chest. He cornered me, his eyes intense, and started chasing me down the hall. “Don’t run!” he demanded. “Didn’t you want to get a taste?” 1 The minute my scene wrapped for the day, I politely declined my co-star’s invitation for dinner. I ripped off my makeup, practically sprinted back to the hotel, double-locked the door, arranged my sad little takeout salad, and then—finally—opened my tablet for my daily feast of spiritual sustenance. I have to hand it to the algorithm. It really gets me. Today’s recommendations were exactly what I needed. I ate my greens with one hand and cackled with the other, occasionally having to wipe a nonexistent drip of drool from my mouth. I typed out a comment: “Are you new here? The Queen has never seen you before.” I added a giant, smug cartoon cat emoji. Swipe. Next one. Hmm. This one is also excellent. “I wouldn’t dare talk back to you, but I’d let you back me up on this, bro.” The videos got me so hyped up I stopped eating my healthy dinner. Honestly, I’ve never understood the psychology behind why these young guys post such revealing content. I might be a socially awkward hermit, but I want to keep up with the latest trends. So, I watched the videos repeatedly, even downloading a few to analyze the… artistry. Suddenly, an account I’d never seen before popped up. Broad shoulders, narrow waist, sculpted abs, and a perfect butt. The best part? His legs were longer than my whole career. I couldn’t resist clicking on his profile. Scroll, scroll, scroll. Holy hell. A true Gym God! He had one hundred and eighteen videos. That was enough to keep me busy for the entire night. I went through every single one, leaving detailed com—I mean, racy comments. “A stunning meal. kissy-face emoji.” “Your abs look… asymmetrical. DM me. I have notes.” “My friend says guys who only sway side-to-side in their videos are single. The ones who move back-and-forth have partners!” “So pale and soft. What’s your secret for that perfect skin?” When I got to the thirty-eighth video, the guy cracked. He sent me a direct message. Midnight Sculpt: If you like what you see, stop scrolling and start chatting. Don’t wait until I’m taken and you’re listening to Taylor Swift’s sad breakup playlist. He even included a fresh photo of his abs. He was so bold. How could I not love him more? It turned out this Gym God was just as absurd as I was. Since it was a long night and I had nothing else to do, I unleashed my full 18-gigabit-per-second internet speed chat skills. BerrySweetTreats: The little cat bows to the Cat King. Long live the Cat King, King of all the Cats! BerrySweetTreats: You shed a single tear, I’ll burn the city down. BerrySweetTreats: Why do I suddenly have two forks in my hand? Oh, my dinner just arrived. He didn’t back down: Midnight Sculpt: You talk a good game. Your mouth must be busy. Midnight Sculpt: Are you hungry, Queen? Tell me where you want to eat, and I’ll wash up first. I shot back: BerrySweetTreats: You bet I am. Can I come over for dinner tonight? And maybe nuzzle you for dessert? Wait. Did I really just say that? Whatever. It was the internet. Hit send. I was giggling hysterically behind my tablet. The experts were right—looking at muscle men prolongs life. Despite my dirty online talk, I was truly a cripplingly anxious homebody in real life. My greatest joy was staying home, surfing the net, and binge-watching TV. It was a cruel twist of fate that I ended up as a D-list actress. I had to go out and see people for the sake of the paycheck. Thank goodness I wasn’t famous enough to have fans waiting for me at the airport or stalking me on set. I’d die of embarrassment. I treated acting as a regular job—no grand ambition, but no slacking either. Luckily, my acting skills were decent, so I always landed small but respectable parts. The pay wasn’t huge, the time on set was short, and once my scenes were done, I could go home. I don’t have expensive tastes; the money was enough. All I really needed was a good Wi-Fi connection and a decent meal. Though, if a phone ever came out that allowed me to touch and experience the images on the screen, I’d work myself to death to afford it. Heh heh. After a few days, Midnight Sculpt and I were chatting up a storm. Apart from filming, my sole purpose was to harass him. BerrySweetTreats: Ugh, why do people have to work?! Everyone else looks refreshed, and I look like I’m about to have a psychotic break! (This was a death rattle I sent after a particularly intense scene with the leading man.) BerrySweetTreats: Do you like foreigners? Because I just made an absolute spectacle of myself. (I’d accidentally knocked the leading man over while filming. God, let the ground swallow me whole!) If he didn’t respond, I’d send him the abstract monologues. BerrySweetTreats: You haven’t answered my calls. Our child has a 104-degree fever. I carried him for 24 hours on foot to the county hospital, and you’re out here thirsting? What is the meaning of this marriage? BerrySweetTreats: Hey, handsome. Are you playing on social media alone? Aren’t you scared? Add me; I’ll protect you. BerrySweetTreats: I’m 63. I can still elbow my way onto the subway or fight a lady for the last carton of eggs at the grocery store, but when I see you, I get shy and can’t even look up… Since no one knew who I was online, I was completely uninhibited. Being an abstract, chaotic personality on the internet actually made filming less grueling. In between takes, I’d hide in a corner and secretly scroll on my tablet. The second I snapped the screen shut, I’d revert to my usual anxious, poker-faced self. No one knew I was a full-blown adult drama playing out in my mind. But the ancients were right: happiness is often followed by tragedy. After a late-night shoot, I dragged my exhausted body back to the hotel. I was hoping for some handsome-man therapy to help me sleep, but I saw a message from Midnight Sculpt sent five hours ago. Midnight Sculpt: LOL. Losing it at work is totally normal. Emotional stability costs extra. Midnight Sculpt: The captions are stolen, the moves are learned, the roses are pilfered, the courage is borrowed—but my love for you is inborn! Everything was normal until the next message, which made my heart leap out of my chest. Midnight Sculpt: Alright, no more jokes. Serious question: I checked the location settings, and we’re in the same city. I really want to meet the person behind this wild profile. Can we grab a drink? Me: ??? The Gym God wanted to meet me in person? Oh. My. God. Panic Mode. I thought he was just like me—quiet and anxious in real life, so he got wild online to relieve stress. I couldn’t have been more wrong. I used him as electronic comfort food, and now he wanted to make things real? My heart hammered against my ribs. I immediately logged out of the account. Lying in bed, tossing and turning, I decided even a burner account wasn’t safe enough. Sitting up, clutching my pillow, I went ahead and permanently deleted the account. Try finding me now, buddy! The next day, I wore huge sunglasses and kept looking left and right, convinced everyone I saw was Midnight Sculpt. At one point, a guy chased me halfway down the street. I nearly ran my legs off before realizing he’d mistaken me for some popular young starlet. Me: …[ugh]. I was not amused. When I finally reached the set, I breathed a sigh of relief. I took off my sunglasses, and a shadow suddenly fell over me. It was Jake, the supporting male actor, his face full of gossip. “Sienna Reid, why are you being so shady?” “Me? Shady?” A short distance away, the lead actor, Rhys Easton, glanced over. He was a huge star, an A-lister. I quickly smiled and nodded at him. Don’t mess with the big shots. Rhys nodded back, then turned his attention to the set. I slumped into my chair and fobbed off Jake with a vague excuse. I just didn’t want to socialize. I wanted to be a mushroom in the corner. Leave me alone! After several days of nervous anticipation, nothing happened. I started to relax—and then I got antsy. Beauty corrupts, truly! Without my daily dose of hunks, my healthy salad even tasted bland. After a few more excruciating days, I couldn’t stand it. I downloaded the app again. I had no choice; acting was too much pressure for an anxious person like me. Without this outlet, I was afraid I’d actually have a breakdown on set. The mere thought sent shivers down my spine. It was clear: another secret account was my best coping mechanism. I registered a new one, brimming with excitement. Hello, gorgeous people. Missed you terribly, missed you madly~~~ Just as I was about to unleash my pent-up energy, a shadow fell over my tablet screen, top to bottom. I looked up. It was Rhys Easton! I reflexively snapped the screen off and shot to my feet like a terrified schoolgirl. “Mr. Easton, hi.” Rhys looked at me, his gaze deep, almost probing. Under his scrutiny, my face flushed crimson, and I gripped my tablet until my knuckles turned white. He finally pulled his gaze away, simply stating: “Director Koster needs to see you.” Before the words fully registered, he was already six feet away. I scratched my head. It must have been my imagination. Why did I think the A-list actor just sighed? He’s a megastar. What could he possibly have to sigh about? I pushed the thought away and dragged my feet toward Director Koster with the air of a condemned woman. After the director, my agent called. Sweet Mother of Mercy! All I wanted was five minutes to quietly stare at abs. Why was it so hard?! I was finally done long after midnight. It didn’t matter. I was looking at abs tonight. I’d stay up late if I had to! Washing up and settling into bed, I finally clicked on the videos. After scrolling past a few particularly fine specimens, I let out a satisfied sigh. I wiped the imaginary drool from my chin and clicked on Midnight Sculpt’s profile. For some reason, out of all the Gym Gods on the internet, he was the one who most captivated me. His muscles, size, color, shape, even that mole on his side—it all made me dizzy with longing. His latest video was especially egregious: Broad shoulders, narrow waist, and bulging chest muscles glowing white in the dim light. To make things worse, he was wearing a chest chain. My fingers itched. I couldn’t help but leave a comment: BerrySweetTreats: Wait, my phone is a touchscreen. Why can’t I reach out and touch you? Zero stars! BerrySweetTreats: I need help, Counselor. I’m feeling poorly. I need to get a taste! Gimme, gimme! A second later, he sent a DM. Midnight Sculpt: BerrySweetTreats? !!! That was my old account handle! I was doomed! How did he recognize me instantly, even with a new account? I started to tremble, ready to run again, but his next message nailed me to the bed. Midnight Sculpt: If you delete this account, I will leak your identity. Midnight Sculpt: A-List Actress Harasses Innocent Civilian! Midnight Sculpt: SHOCKER: Cool-Headed Star Caught in Racy Online Scandal! I had to admit, he had a real knack for tabloid headlines. The titles were clickbait gold. If it weren’t me, I’d be the first one to click and read. The problem was, it was me! I wanted to cry. I didn’t dare delete the account. I took a deep, shaky breath. BerrySweetTreats: I don’t know what you’re talking about. He sent a smiling emoji. Midnight Sculpt: 🙂 Midnight Sculpt: Sienna Reid. Stop pretending. Aaaahhhh! Save me! This man knew who I was! He even knew my real name! Woe is me! Was my perfectly insulated reputation about to be destroyed? No! Do you know what people with my level of crippling social anxiety value most? Our carefully constructed, fragile dignity! I’ve been scrolling for so long, was I finally going to fail at the last hurdle?

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The wrap party was in full swing. Director Harris cornered me. “How about a turn as a romantic lead in the new series—opposite Gemma?” I glanced across the room at Gemma Lennox. The woman famous for her million-dollar smile had gone utterly blank. She wouldn’t meet my eyes. I understood the signal instantly. I gave the director a level look. “No, sir. I’m done with the scene. I’m retiring, heading back home to finally get married. I don’t have the energy for another shoot.” Gemma’s expression, which had just started to ease, suddenly curdled. 1 “Oh, please, Rhys the Riff-Raff,” she scoffed, loud enough for those nearby to hear. “Who the hell would marry you? You’re the industry’s doormat. Who’d want that?” The moment she said it, all eyes finally landed on me. For the first time, I was the undisputed focus of the entire cast and crew. The associate director rushed to smooth things over, urging Gemma to drink her wine, but she acted as if she hadn’t heard him. Her expression was all mocking amusement as she stared me down. I didn’t take the bait. I kept my voice easy and addressed the director again. “The date’s the seventeenth of next month. If you happen to be free, Mr. Harris, you’re welcome to the wedding.” Seeing I wasn’t joking, the director laughed nervously. “Well, well, I’ll certainly send you a generous check, Rhys. Congratulations.” When he finished, everyone else looked at me, suspicion clearly outweighing any mockery. I was long accustomed to their disbelief, so I didn’t bother to offer an explanation. Until Drew Ashton piped up from beside Gemma. “No invitation, but already shaking the tin for cash, Rhys? Doesn’t sound like a wedding; sounds like a desperate shakedown. Don’t use such a low-rent scheme on your colleagues. How much is the poverty plea this time? A thousand bucks? Two?” Back when I was scraping for rent, before Gemma made it, I had taken any job I could find. I was doing ridiculous little promo hustles online just for the tiny payouts to pay the rent. One of the rare times I felt rich was when a successful actress, feeling generous, tipped me a grand. I told Gemma about it, completely thrilled, and she teased me for being so provincial. She promised that when she hit it big, she’d cut me a check for a hundred thousand dollars so I’d never worry again. Now she’s A-list, dating A-list. And she used that secret—that one thousand dollar number—to let Drew mock me in front of everyone. The disappointment was a cold, solid thing in my stomach. I was done being the “good guy” she liked, the one who protected her and Drew’s perfect façade. “I am short on cash, actually, but two thousand won’t cut it,” I said, looking right at Drew. “Settle the Gemma-Transfer-Fee for a million. Now.” I pulled up my payment QR code, placed my phone on the lazy Susan in the center of the table, and spun it toward Gemma and Drew. Someone who hadn’t been paying attention asked, mystified, “Why is Rhys asking Drew for a transfer fee?” 2 I had blown up the secret of my “underground” five years with Gemma. Her face immediately went dark. She lunged forward in shock, knocking over a crystal wine glass. Red wine instantly bloomed across the white tablecloth, staining the hem of her haute couture gown. The director panicked, waving the servers out and shutting the door. He watched us anxiously—me, Gemma, and Drew. Since Gemma hit it big, she and Drew had been inseparable, publicly and privately, putting on a sickeningly affectionate show for the world. Everyone assumed they were deeply in love, a years-long fairytale romance. No one had ever suspected that I, Rhys Everett—a washed-up character actor with a notoriously bad reputation—was the man who’d been with her through her long years of struggle. The awkward silence lasted ten minutes, until the associate director cleared his throat. That’s what finally made Gemma move. The woman known as the industry’s sweetheart looked at me now with pure, unadulterated revulsion. Her voice was sharp. “I’m worth eighty thousand an hour,” she spat, her tone acidic. “I never billed you for the years I spent slumming it down there. And now you want my man to pay a transfer fee? You are so greedy, Rhys.” Drew, who minutes ago was mocking me, now played the benevolent one. “Look, Rhys, she was under a ton of pressure. It’s normal for her to… experiment a little to blow off steam. She didn’t mean anything by it. Why take it seriously? Fine, fine. You want a million? I’ll wire it to you now.” He went to take out his phone, but Gemma blocked him. Her face frozen in an icy mask, she pulled out her own private phone and wired the million to my account. Her gesture was dramatic and sweeping, nothing like the college girl who couldn’t spare a dollar-fifty for a caramel apple we were walking past. Suddenly, a million didn’t feel like enough. I collected the money and looked at her. “The transfer fee is settled. But what about the five years I spent living in that cramped walk-up with you? I think you need to settle that account, too.” Gemma stared at me for three full seconds, then switched phones and coldly said she would transfer the money. Less than a minute later, the bank notification hit my account. Five million dollars. Seven digits and a five, a blinding number. But her words cut deeper: “Consider this five million your advance for the coffin. Now go die somewhere I don’t have to look at you.” Gemma cursed me. Drew laughed, but then put on a show of chastising her to sound like the better man. She ignored him and addressed everyone else. “The seventeenth of next month,” she announced, a cold smile settling on her face. “Drew and I are celebrating our anniversary. Everyone should come help us celebrate!” The crew members, afraid to cross her, nervously agreed. I just took a deep breath, finished with the performance, and stood up to leave. But just as my hand found the doorknob, Gemma grabbed my arm. Her eyes were malicious. “Since you’re retiring, you can post your official statement before you walk out that door.” 3 Gemma’s team drafted my retirement statement. It was humiliating, painting me as unstable and difficult. As soon as it went live, she hit the like button. When they moved to another venue, Sarah, Gemma’s assistant, secretly rushed out to see me off. “Rhys, I know this looks bad,” Sarah whispered, her eyes full of pity. “But she really loves you. She and Drew are just a fling. You shouldn’t have embarrassed her like that in public.” I didn’t explain. I just looked at the six million dollars in my account and told Sarah to help me terminate the lease on my apartment. Sarah paused, then sighed. “Maybe that’s for the best. You can move into her place tomorrow. Cook her favorite meals; that might be enough to win her back.” Sarah gave me a dozen bits of advice, none of which I registered. I took a cab back to the apartment. Gemma had chosen this place for me. It was sparse, twenty miles from her villa. Aside from my ID and university diploma, everything in it was promotional junk she’d gotten from sponsors. I hated it. I didn’t want to take a single thing with me. As I closed the door for the last time, my phone buzzed. It was Gemma’s social media update. The photo showed her and Drew, fingers laced, cheeks pressed together in a sickening display of affection. When fans asked if they were officially a couple, she answered them definitively: “Like, obvi! I’m Drew Ashton’s woman!” That one line, that was the one that made my eyes burn. I couldn’t stop the memory of our days in the walk-up. The year I started getting a little traction, the company suggested Gemma and I pretend to be a couple for a reality show to boost her profile. I brought it up with her. She’d wrapped her arms around my neck, whispering, “Rhys, you know I hate the high-profile stuff. Let’s just keep our little life a secret, work hard, and make it together, okay?” I believed her. I agreed to keep things quiet. But I realized now that she didn’t hate “high-profile.” She just hated “high-profile with me.” 4 After spending one night in a cheap motel, I booked a flight. My hometown, Blackwood Creek, is buried deep in the Cascade mountains. Even after the plane landed, it was a ten-hour drive, winding through switchbacks and deep valleys just to reach the boundary of our community. When I left at sixteen, those ten hours felt fleeting. Now, returning alone, it felt like I was driving through an entire lifetime. 5 There were no relatives left in Blackwood Creek for me. The old house my grandmother left me was practically a ruin; it took two full days of cleaning just to make it habitable. When word got around that I was back to get married, the villagers were mystified. The older men, the elders who knew me, cornered me when they’d had too much to drink, scolding me. They said I had flown out to be a phoenix, a success, so why was I back to suffer? I smiled, a little bitterly, and didn’t tell them the little phoenix they sent out had been deeply unhappy out there, and that I was back because I was running out of time. They lectured me for three days. When they realized I wasn’t going to return to the city, the village council finally gave up. “Well, alright. Willow’s a good woman. She’ll take care of you.” 6 The “Willow” they spoke of was the woman I’d chosen to marry. Her name is Willow Finch. She came to Blackwood Creek three years ago as a volunteer teacher and has practically run the one-room schoolhouse ever since. The villagers adored her and everyone wanted their sons to marry her. But she didn’t choose any of the local men. Instead, she was the one who messaged me first on a local classified ad I’d posted as a half-serious, half-joke marriage proposition. To be fair, I had asked Gemma about marriage first. She’d snapped, “My body is yours, Rhys, what more of a commitment do you need? Don’t be so damn greedy!” After that, I never mentioned marriage to her again. I quietly added Willow Finch on my private chat app. When she agreed to the terms—to take responsibility for my remains—we set the date. 7 On the seventh day after my return, Willow and I went into the county seat. We hired the best construction crew and signed the contracts to build a proper schoolhouse. I paid the thirty percent deposit using the money Gemma had sent. As we were leaving the contractor’s office, we passed a cafe. I saw a sign: Seven-Layer Carmel Latte, Buy One Get One Half Off. The memory hit me, freezing me in my tracks. Right after paying the rent for the walk-up, we were often left with only enough cash for one cheap coffee. Gemma, being “generous,” would tell me to go buy it, and we’d sit on the curb outside the studio, laughing and sharing the single cup. In the sunset, she’d ask if it was sweet, and I’d nod, asking her if she liked it. “Of course, I do!” she’d said. “When I make it big, I’m going to drink one every single day! You better remember to buy it for me!” I took her casual comment as a promise. Even after she became a star, I kept up the habit, ordering a specific, cheap coffee and having it delivered to her set. At first, she’d accept it and smile. I thought she hadn’t forgotten our past. Then, one day, I returned to her dressing room to retrieve my forgotten phone. I saw her at the trash can. She wasn’t just dumping my latte; she was complaining to Drew: “Even a gourmet coffee gets old if you drink it every day. Besides, Rhys brings me that cheap, eight-dollar-a-cup junk. Doesn’t he know we’re in different leagues now?” From that day on, I stopped buying her things beneath her “league,” and I quit drinking my favorite cheap coffee, too. I must have been lost in that thought, because I didn’t notice Willow had moved. “Rhys, look…” Willow carefully carried two cups. “Your favorite, the half-sweet Seven-Layer Carmel. Buy-one-get-one, so I got you one. Try it.” A woman I had known for only two months could casually state my preference. The woman I loved for five years didn’t even know it. I was so touched I didn’t refuse. Halfway through the drink, I suddenly remembered something. “Wait, Willow. You can’t have high-sugar drinks like this, can you?” Willow shrugged, a soft, easy smile on her face. “But I wanted to share it with you, Rhys. That way you wouldn’t be alone.” She must have caught the surprise on my face because she quickly explained. She even blushed, saying it was part of the “contract spirit”—she’d promised to be there for me. Looking at her nervousness, I was reminded of Gemma, who had promised me a home while we were in that cramped walk-up, swearing she’d never let me be alone again. I believed her every time. And what was the result? The moment she got famous, she forgot the promises, brazenly flirting with more famous men, leaving me alone in my eighty-square-foot apartment, watching the sun rise and set by myself. 8 After we finished half the coffee, Willow said she needed to go to the wholesale warehouse to buy powdered cocoa mix. I asked her why. She explained sheepishly that she had wanted to buy a latte for all the children at the school, but they couldn’t afford a full order. So, she was buying the mix to make a weaker version for everyone to share, so each student could have a little taste. “I want the kids in the mountains to have more experiences,” she said. “That way, when they leave, they won’t be easily moved by cheap gestures or easily hurt by people.” She wasn’t talking about me. But I thought about my own childhood. I never had a teacher who bought me a treat. So, when I left the mountains, I thought a cheap cup of coffee was the pinnacle of luxury. It was enough for me to be moved by Gemma, and enough to give her my entire heart. “Don’t buy the cocoa mix,” I said. “We’ll just buy out the cafe. We’ll treat everyone.” I took out the rest of Gemma’s money and paid the cafe to drive their truck up the mountain and serve fresh lattes to the entire village. 9 Willow told the village broadcaster about the treat, and she had her students gather wildflowers. While the children waited for their drinks, she taught them how to weave massive floral crowns and had them line up to place one on my head. “Rhys, look,” she said. “The little suns of the future, they all love you.” For Gemma’s sake, I had always played the bad guy in the industry. The result was that the crew hated me, and the internet loathed me. When I complained to Gemma about the hate, she would just shrug it off. “Someone has to be the bad guy, Rhys. Besides, why do you need anyone else to like you? Isn’t my love enough?” She said that, but she never understood that I desperately needed the world to like me, too. I needed a lot of warmth and sunlight. Willow must have seen the emotion in my eyes. She broke my silence by gently pushing me toward the children. “Come on, everyone! Put the crown on your new teacher’s husband!” The children laughed. I let go of my dark memories, half-crouching to let them adorn me. It was strange. The flowers were the same ones I’d seen my entire life, but I never noticed their fragrance. Today, my crown smelled better than any designer cologne. I looked at Willow. The sun framed her slightly pale face in a golden halo. I knew, with absolute certainty, that marrying her was the best decision I had ever made. 10 In the following days, Willow and I supervised the construction crew building the new schoolhouse and finalized our wedding arrangements. In the mountains, you don’t need the complexity of a city wedding, but a proper feast is non-negotiable. I planned to use the rest of Gemma’s money to cater the meal, but Willow stopped me. She took out three years of her savings and gave them to the village elder, instructing him to prepare long tables for a feast that would invite everyone in the community. The elder praised her commitment, and the neighborhood women constantly told me how perfect she was for me. But whenever anyone complimented her, she always corrected them. “Rhys is the truly good one,” she’d insist. “Better than I could ever be.” She was always praising me instinctively. Gemma never did that. The contrast made me realize how little I had valued myself before. The wedding was on the seventeenth. It was loud and joyful. The feast lasted from noon to evening. While Willow was busy hosting the elders, I sat beneath a large pine and pulled out my phone. I hadn’t logged into my social media since returning to Blackwood Creek. I thought no one would remember me. But my messages were over ninety-nine. Almost all were from Sarah, the assistant, still urging me to apologize to Gemma. I didn’t want to reply, and was about to turn the phone off when Gemma called. It was loud on her end, a cacophony of music and voices, but her voice cut through the noise. “Rhys, are you still not done with your stunt?”

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Forty-five years after I walked away, a missing person’s plea ripped the quiet fabric of my life. On the video screen, world-renowned scientist Dr. Graham Harrington lay on a hospital bed, his white hair disheveled, his frame gaunt and frail. Yet his voice was instantly, sickeningly familiar: “Ellie, I’m sorry… In this life, you were the only one I ever held in my heart.” “Where are you? Can we… meet again?” I quietly pressed the screen dark. My son, Owen, walked into the kitchen, scooping rice. “Mom, you know him?” “No,” I said, turning to lift the lid off the pot. A plume of white steam rose, momentarily blurring my vision. “The braised short ribs are almost ready. I’m taking them to your dad. The doctor says he can come home tomorrow.” What’s past is past. Some words arrive so late that they lose all their intended weight. Besides, I never needed his affection in the first place. 1 The antiseptic smell in the City General hallway was thick and cloying. I set down the thermos and went to find the water fountain, covering my nose. I didn’t slow down enough at the corner and collided solidly with someone coming the other way. “Excuse me,” I murmured, moving to walk around them. But the person grabbed my arm, his voice catching. “Ellie? Is that really you!” That one sound was all I needed to know who it was. I yanked my arm away, my expression deliberately neutral. Graham Harrington awkwardly withdrew his hand. His gaze dropped to the faded, pale blue loaner jacket the nurse had given me, and his Adam’s apple bobbed. “I never imagined… you were working here?” He instinctively reached for his pocket, then stopped. “My wallet is in the suite… Ellie, come up to the private ward with me. I need to talk to you.” I froze for a moment, then let out a sharp, unexpected laugh. I’d dressed too lightly this morning and was freezing. The aide from the next room had forced her spare scrub top on me, worried I’d catch a chill. It was clear Graham assumed I was destitute. I didn’t offer an explanation. I just turned to leave. But he followed, grabbing my arm again. “Ellie, it’s me, Graham! Don’t you remember me?” My spine stiffened. I pulled free once more. “I remember,” I said, my voice flat. “You are Vivian Wells’s husband. My sister’s husband.” Graham Harrington’s hand, left suspended in the air, slowly dropped. Forty-five years ago, my half-sister, Vivian Wells, filed a report accusing me of immoral behavior. My fiancé, Graham, stood me up on the night we were supposed to run away together. A month later, the embossed, gold-stamped wedding invitations for Graham Harrington and Vivian Wells were distributed across the entire Mid-State Engineering campus. How could I possibly forget any of that. Back in the room, Art was gone. I opened the thermos, and the rich, complex aroma of braised short ribs instantly filled the air. I was smiling, explaining the recipe to the older woman in the next bed. “Three tablespoons of brown sugar, a chunk of cinnamon stick, and a slow simmer in the Dutch oven for two full hours.” “Don’t rush the heat, and don’t rush the process. You have to sear the meat first to draw out the flavor, then simmer slowly…” I glanced up, and Graham had followed me all the way to the doorway. His nose twitched, and his eyes were rimmed with red. “Ellie, that’s the exact smell! The taste from all those years ago!” “If I hadn’t let go back then, I wouldn’t be so full of regret today…” I didn’t say anything. I simply closed the door and pressed the call button for the nurse. It wasn’t long before a stern nurse escorted him back to his private suite. Just then, Art returned, triumphantly waving his discharge summary. “Doctor says the lung nodule is stable, so I’m out early! I snuck the paperwork through myself!” He was always like that—protective, never letting me worry about a thing. The next few days, my phone screen was a constant stream of alerts for the trending hashtag: #NobelScientistGrahamHarringtonSeeksFirstLove. #TerminalLiverCancerFinalWish #LoveAcrossHalfACentury #LovedYouAllThisTime Even The City Ledger ran a full-page spread of the search plea. I tried hard to ignore it, but the push notifications were relentless. The comment sections were a sea of tears: “She needs to find him! That’s true love!” “To achieve so much and still remember his first love—how moving!” I couldn’t even avoid it during my neighborhood walks: “You don’t see men this devoted anymore!” “I wonder which lucky old woman he’s looking for…” But they didn’t understand. A love that’s expired is worse than a lifetime of silence. The worst came when Owen sent me a link with a headline that stung: #GrahamHarrington’sFirstLoveIsHer. The accompanying picture was a faded photo of us taken in front of the factory gates in 1982. In the photo, I wore my hair in two braids, my eyes crinkled in a genuine smile. Graham stood beside me, his hands behind his back, looking like he wanted to reach for mine but couldn’t. I stared at the yellowed photo, my fingers icy cold. In the end, there was no escaping it. 2 On the set of the national program The Echo, Graham Harrington, dressed in a replica of his old work shirt, did his best to sit up straight. “In 1980, I was accepted into Mid-State Engineering. A year later, my childhood friend followed me there.” He pointed to the photograph, recounting the story slowly: “Her name is Ellie Reynolds. She’s three years younger than I am.” “I was in Technical Design; she worked in the canteen. Her braised short ribs were incredible—even now, I can close my eyes and taste them.” “I was twenty-three then, and I didn’t understand real love. I hurt the person who loved me, and I’ve regretted it ever since.” “Now, I don’t have long left. My only wish in coming back to the States is to see her one last time, just to tell her I’m truly sorry.” … He produced several objects: a bookmark I’d given him, the bus ticket from the night we planned to run away, and his rejected money orders… He’d handled the yellowed paper so often the edges were frayed, as if they were the only proof of his remaining conscience. “I wrote her letters, but they were never answered. I sent her money, but it was returned.” He coughed violently. “Ellie, I want you to know, the night we agreed to run away, I actually went to the station…” I didn’t know any of this, but it no longer mattered. Graham was still talking on the television, but I couldn’t bear to listen anymore. I turned off the set and automatically wiped a layer of dust off the credenza. The fine dust motes swirled in the air, stirring up a flurry of old memories. I underestimated the power of the internet. The day after the program aired, my phone was besieged. I was bombarded with non-stop calls from unknown numbers. They demanded to know if I was Ellie Reynolds and why I refused to meet Dr. Harrington. To shield my husband and son, I initially denied it: “You have the wrong number. It’s a common name.” But the calls intensified, forcing me to shut off my phone entirely. Art’s phone was also filled with messages of public censure. My small restaurant, Ellie’s Corner, was staked out by influencers desperate to film the ‘first love’ in person. Comments flooded my business pages: “No matter what happened, Professor Harrington dedicated his life to this country. You owe him your forgiveness.” “He only has a year left. Why are you being so heartless?” “Did you turn your back on him first, and that’s why you found a new husband!” Young people pointed their anger at me, as if my refusal to meet Graham made me a wicked monster. Art squeezed my hand. “Don’t worry, I’ve got this. If it gets too bad, we can go stay at the lake house for a few days until the heat dies down.” Owen quietly began gathering evidence to sue the online trolls for doxing. He adjusted his hearing aid and said, “Mom, I won’t let anyone hurt you, I promise!” Watching them rally to protect me, I made a firm decision. I looked at Owen. “Call the producers of The Echo,” I instructed. “Tell them I agree to meet Graham Harrington.” I would tell the full story, in front of the entire country. Not for the sake of forgiveness, but so that everyone would finally know the truth. Some harm cannot be wiped away by a simple ‘I’m sorry.’

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The phone call from Lily’s teacher came the moment I pulled out of the daycare parking lot. “Ms. Thorne, you need to get to the hospital. Lily… she injured a classmate.” By the time I rushed to Crestwood Metropolitan, my vision tunneled on a sight that froze the blood in my veins: my five-year-old, Lily, lying on a gurney with a knife—a simple, nasty kitchen paring knife—sticking out of her small abdomen, the floor slick with her blood. The other kid, a boy named Preston, had only a scrape on his finger, already clotting. I grabbed the nearest teacher, demanding an explanation. She stammered, avoiding my eyes. It wasn’t until I fought my way into the school surveillance room that I got the truth. He had called Lily a “street trash mongrel, raised by sluts.” When she fought back, he pulled out the knife and stabbed her. With the footage in hand, I faced his parents. The mother, Tiffany Wells, met my gaze with a sneer. “Trash raised by trash,” she spat, her voice dripping with venom. “If she dies, she dies. Her life isn’t worth a single hair on my Preston’s head.” “Every hospital in this city has Wells Group money in it. She dared touch my son, and now she doesn’t leave here alive.” She didn’t know who Lily was. Lily’s mom and dad were the dearest souls in our entire battalion. After they fell, she became the daughter of the whole unit—the treasured niece, the little sister, the light of the women’s barracks. Everyone fought for a holiday rotation with her. Even General Marcus, our retired Commander, spoiled her like his own grandchild. Now, someone had called her a mongrel? A tramp’s kid? I turned away from the entitled woman, pulled my phone from my pocket, and dialed the emergency internal line for the 1st Battalion. “Lily’s been stabbed. They called her a low-class tramp’s kid. Leave is canceled. I want every available sister at Crestwood Hospital now.” 1 The phone was violently snatched from my ear and slammed to the ground. Tiffany Wells, the alleged wife of a CEO, laughed—a harsh, entitled sound. She looked at me like I was something she’d scraped off her designer shoe. “What, you hear ‘Wells’ and you call all your little… chicken sisters for backup? Ha! Birds of a feather, I suppose.” “Bottom-feeders who hook up with any man they can find, raise little runts who are just as out of control. Probably trying to hook her claws into my son, too.” The rage in my chest was a bomb about to detonate. I started to rise, but a faint, trembling whisper stopped me. “Momma… Momma’s not a… chicken…” Lily’s face was bloodless, her eyes squeezed shut, her whole body shaking. “My momma… she’s a hero.…” My heart clenched. I immediately knelt and grasped her tiny, ice-cold hand. “I’m right here, sweetheart. Don’t be afraid. Lily’s mother is a hero who protected people. She’s—” “She’s lying!” Preston Wells, Tiffany’s son, shrieked, cutting me off. “Different women drop her off every day. How can one person have so many moms?” “She’s just a wild kid raised in a trash heap by someone nobody knows! Her mother is not a hero!” Preston’s face, puffy and pale with baby fat, was contorted with a viciousness that belied his age. “She lies all the time and she doesn’t listen to me! Low-class people deserve to be punished!” “My mom said our family runs this city. Even if she dies, someone will clean it up for me!” I stared at the five-year-old boy, stunned by the sheer malice in his words and his actions. I looked back at Tiffany. “Is this how you teach your child?” She wore it like a badge of honor, tilting her chin up. “Is it not the truth? Did I say anything wrong?” “A child shuffled between different women every day? What else would you call it but a hovel?” “I’m teaching my son the truth about the garbage at the bottom of the social ladder. What’s wrong with that?” She took a step, pointing a sharp, manicured finger almost into my face. “I’m telling you, in Evergreen City, the Wells family says what goes!” “My son punishing her was an honor! She dared to fight back and injure him, so she deserves whatever she gets!” “The lives of people like you—all of them combined—aren’t worth a single strand of my son’s hair!” I balled my fists, wanting nothing more than to wipe that smug look off her face. Lily’s parents, both decorated service members, fell in the line of duty a year apart. Our two families, generations of military service, had only her left. We couldn’t send her to a state facility, so we raised her in the battalion. The reason different women dropped her off was simple: we all loved her, and every single one of us on leave fought over who got to have her that day. It was my turn today, and now this. If anything happened to Lily, I wouldn’t know how to face the sisters or the General. Reason, however, had to win over pure, visceral fury. I was a soldier. I had to remember who I was, who I represented. Knowing that anything I said to this woman would be useless, I took a deliberate step back and looked at her, my eyes cold. “The Wells family, you say?” Fine. I’d remember. Some scores take time to settle. For now, Lily was all that mattered. 2 The nurse had mentioned a massive pile-up on the highway, flooding the hospital with trauma victims. Personnel were stretched thin. I had given Lily the emergency trauma powder I carried—a military-grade clotting agent—which should stabilize her for a short time, but time was a weapon now. I was about to scoop her up and race to the next facility when a doctor in scrubs sprinted toward us. “Where is the injured child? Status?” I stepped aside instantly. The nurse quickly reported. “Five years old, abdominal stab wound. Depth unknown. Still conscious, but severe blood loss.” The doctor swiftly and carefully checked the wound, using a penlight to examine Lily’s pupils and complexion. “Thank God. Preliminarily, no major organ damage, but the blood loss is critical. We need immediate cleaning, suturing, and hemostasis.” He frowned. “All operating rooms are full with the I-5 crash victims. We can’t wait. We have to perform emergency closure here to stabilize her vitals.” He whirled toward the nurse. “Prep the sterile suture kit, anesthesia, and get the emergency blood unit ready!” The nurse started to run but was yanked back by Tiffany Wells. “Hold it!” Tiffany roughly shoved Preston in front of the doctor. “You treat my son first! His finger is broken and he’s bled so much!” The doctor glanced at Preston’s index finger—a small abrasion where the blood had already dried. His brow furrowed deeper, his expression turning stern. “Madam, please! You need to stop this nonsense!” “Your son has a minor surface injury. He doesn’t even need stitches. Have a nurse swab it with iodine. Step aside! Hospital resources are critically low. We prioritize major trauma. That’s the basic principle!” Tiffany was outraged that a doctor would dare contradict her. She raised her hand and delivered a stinging slap across the doctor’s face. “Principle? I am the principle here!” Everyone was stunned by the sudden violence. She pointed a furious finger at the dazed doctor. “A staff physician, yelling at me? Do you know who we are?!” “I am the daughter-in-law of the Wells family! This is their grandson! Your own CEO bows to me! You talk to me like that?!” “My son’s finger touched that low-class brat’s blood. He might get some disease! I demand that you, now, immediately, perform a full-body scan on my son! Head to toe, don’t miss a single thing! Otherwise, I will have you fired from this hospital today, and you will never work in this city again!” The doctor, Dr. Alpert, clutched his cheek, his eyes wide with humiliation and disbelief. “You can’t…” The small crowd gathered began murmuring their outrage, but Tiffany ignored them. She pointed at her bodyguards. “Take him! Take him to my son for the full checkup! A doctor’s job is to save important people, not the rats from the gutter!” Two dark-suited men immediately grabbed Dr. Alpert, covering his mouth as he tried to protest, and forcefully dragged him away. Tiffany turned to me, a smirk of triumph and malice twisting her lips. Furious, I started to charge, but the nurse beside me desperately gripped my arm. She whispered urgently, “Mom, please, calm down! We can’t fight people this powerful. It’s Lily who will suffer! We have to save her!” My eyes were stinging with frustrated tears. “They just kidnapped the only doctor! Who is going to save my child? Do money and power make you untouchable?!” I took a huge, shuddering breath, forcing my heart rate down. The nurse was right. Lily’s life was paramount. “I’m sorry. That wasn’t for you.” “Where is the nearest hospital? We’re transferring her now!” I bent to pick Lily up, but the nurse stopped me again. “The highway crash has swamped every major hospital in the city. A transfer will mean waiting in line again, and she’s too fragile!” “She’s lost too much blood. She needs a transfusion immediately. Our blood bank is almost certainly depleted. You need to find a donor now. If we can get a bag of blood in her, we can stabilize her vitals.” 3 My heart plummeted, but I didn’t hesitate. I shoved my arm out. “Draw mine! We’re both B-positive!” The nurse shook her head. “Direct transfusion from a close relative is highly dangerous. It can cause Graft-versus-Host Disease.” “I’m not her biological mother!” I practically roared it, my voice raw with desperation and the beginning of a breakdown. “She’s a Gold Star Kid! Her parents died for this country! I’m begging you, you have to save her! Take my blood!” Shocked by the revelation of Lily’s status, the nurse immediately grabbed a sterile kit. In the small collection room, I watched my dark red blood snake down the tube into the bag. Time stretched out, each second a year, with Lily struggling on the edge of the abyss. My shattered phone was buzzing in my other hand, the internal group chat exploding with messages. “What happened? Why is she hurt? On my way!” “How is Lily? We’re bringing Major Thompson’s medic with us!” “Tell her the 2nd Guard Dads are coming too! Ten minutes out!” The knowledge that my sisters and brothers were coming with their own medical team was the only thing keeping me standing. I’d just finished the 400cc draw when the nurse pulled the needle and prepared to rush the life-saving blood to processing. Suddenly, a hand with bright red, aggressively long nails shot out and snatched the bag. “There! You said you had no blood! You lied!” “Give this to my son immediately! He’s shocked and his sugar is low! He needs nutrition!” Fighting the sudden vertigo from the blood loss, I stood up, my eyes locked on her. “Put the blood down.” Tiffany Wells was momentarily startled by the intensity of my gaze, but quickly recovered her arrogance. “You… you think you scare me? This blood belongs to the hospital now. I can do whatever I want with it!” The nurse, gathering her courage, stepped forward to appeal to her. “Mrs. Wells, please. That little girl is a Gold Star Kid. Her parents sacrificed everything for our country. She has no one else…” “Please, just think of it as a good deed. Give us the blood. Save her life.” Tiffany didn’t just ignore her; she shoved the nurse hard. “A martyr? Ha! More pity party lies, I bet.” “Who knows if it’s true? Even if it is, I don’t care! My son’s health is the only priority!” I didn’t waste another word. With a clean, lightning-fast movement, I executed a reverse wrist lock. Tiffany let out a yelp of pain, her fingers involuntarily splaying open. The bag of warm blood fell perfectly into my waiting hand. “You hit me?!” She screamed, scrambling back. “You heard that, you incompetents? Teach her a lesson!” The two remaining bodyguards closed in. They moved with heavy, trained steps. They wanted a fight? I felt the dam of my suppressed rage and helplessness finally give way. “Guard this.” I placed the blood bag carefully into the trembling nurse’s hands. In the same breath, I dropped my center of gravity, pivoting just as the first bodyguard threw a clumsy punch. My right leg became a piston—a sharp, brutal side-kick to his diaphragm. “Gah!” The man folded over, his size irrelevant to the sheer force, and he flew back, crashing into the wall. The second guard, seeing his partner drop, lunged, attempting to lock my neck from behind. I ducked low, avoiding his arm, then planted my left foot and drove my right heel up in a blindingly fast reverse spinning hook kick right under his chin. His eyes rolled back. He dropped like a stone, unconscious. The hallway was silent. The whole exchange took less than three seconds. I slowly turned, taking a step toward Tiffany Wells, who was now frozen, fear leaching the color from her face. She stammered, backing away. “Wha—what do you want? Don’t… don’t think a few moves scare me!” “I’m warning you! I am Grant Wells’s wife! You touch a single hair on my head, and the Wells family will destroy you! You won’t get away with this!” I stood over her, staring down into her terrified, contorted face, and clamped my fingers around her throat. 4 “Cough… L-let go!” I leaned in close, my eyes burning into hers. “You should thank your stars you’re in peacetime, protected by a flimsy piece of paper called the law.” “Otherwise…” I tightened my grip, just enough to make my point undeniable. “Based on what you just tried to do, I would beat you until you couldn’t speak or stand.” The raw, murderous intent in my eyes made her shudder, her fight draining away completely. Then, Preston’s voice cut through the silence, eerily calm. “Let go of my mom. Or you will regret it.” I spun around, and my blood ran cold. Preston, with the help of the two bodyguards who had recovered and returned, had forcibly dragged Lily from the gurney. She was being hauled by her arm across the rough floor like a rag doll, leaving a streak of angry red blood behind her. The simple gauze bandaging on her abdomen was soaked. Her small face was contorted in pain, a weak moan escaping her lips. “Momma… it hurts…” My heart was pierced a thousand times. Preston was five! How could he possibly be this cruel? Was he a monster? “You little bastard! Let go of her!” I screamed, a guttural cry of pure anguish. As I lunged, Tiffany, released from my grip, grabbed a handful of my hair from behind and yanked. In the split second I flinched, she scrambled back to her son. She looked at Lily, crumpled and bleeding on the floor, and her eyes flashed with a hideous mix of triumph and indulgence. “See that? This is what happens when you cross us! My son is destined for great things!” Preston swelled with pride at his mother’s praise, a terrifying, warped smile on his face. He even kicked Lily once more with his small foot. Tiffany pointed a demanding finger at me. “Now, you will get on your knees and apologize! If my son ‘accidentally’ causes any more damage to the little brat, it’s all on you!” The sight was unendurable. A depraved, entitled mother. A cruel, demonic child. They were using a critically wounded girl as leverage. I clenched my hands, my nails digging deep into my palms. Lily was in their grasp. I had no choice. Every fiber of my pride, every ounce of my military dignity, crumbled before the life of that child. I slowly dropped to my knees. “I’m sorry. It was my fault. I shouldn’t have used force.” “Please, I beg you. Let go of the child. She will die if you don’t. Please.” Tiffany’s face lit up with a sickening rush of pleasure at my defeat. “Ha! Now you’re sorry? Too late!” She ordered a bodyguard to snatch the blood bag from the nurse’s hand, then took it herself and tossed it onto the ground… “So proud! You fought me for this trash?” She brought her stiletto heel down on the bag, crushing it. “No!” The nurse and I cried out simultaneously. Tiffany watched the dark red liquid splatter across the pristine floor, her grin widening into a mask of pure evil. “You want me to let go of this little mongrel? Fine.” “You will strip down right here, right now! Take off that ugly uniform! Let everyone see the cheap, trashy whore you really are beneath the clothes!” She saw me glance toward the entrance. “What? Waiting for your other little chicken sisters to rescue you? They show up, they strip, too!” “You don’t want to? Fine. I’ll just help the little mongrel loosen up her ground a little!” With a grotesque laugh, her hand slowly reached for the handle of the knife still buried in Lily’s abdomen. Without a doctor’s intervention, pulling that knife out would cause instant, massive hemorrhage. Lily would die in seconds. “Stop! Don’t you dare!” I shrieked, all composure gone. “I’ll strip! I’ll strip! Just don’t touch her!” Just as my fingers touched the first button of my shirt, Tiffany’s wrist was struck by a sharp projectile. The impact made her yelp and clutch her arm, stumbling backward. At the end of the hallway, a voice boomed—a thunderous, commanding shout. “I’d like to see who has the guts to touch them!”

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I was on the local news when I was born, simply for being too beautiful. By my first birthday, an embarrassing number of dynastic families were already swarming my parents, requesting a standing arrangement for a future marriage. When the tenth time a boy was hospitalized after fighting over me, my parents knew we had to move. They reluctantly packed up our lives and began using makeup to conceal my real face. I finally began to live what felt like a normal life. It was also the first time I truly felt the sharp, cold malice of the world without the armor of my looks. The day I was cornered, called a freak, and locked in a derelict storage room behind the gymnasium, I hit rock bottom. Then, Wyatt climbed in through the window. He took my hand and looked at me with an earnestness that was blinding. “Aria,” he said, his voice quiet but firm. “Beauty isn’t the only way to judge a person. You are you, and that’s what matters.” My heart hammered a desperate rhythm against my ribs. He was the first person to truly see me, and I was instantly gone. I worked harder than I ever had, making sure I got into the same university he chose. When my acceptance letter arrived, I clutched the paper, my hands shaking with nerves, ready to confess my feelings. But before I could speak, he beat me to it. “Aria, be my girlfriend.” The rush of pure, unexpected joy drowned me. I felt like the luckiest girl in the world. For the next three years, Wyatt was everything. He was attentive, thoughtful, and protective. Everyone envied me for having such a handsome and sensitive boyfriend. Until the annual campus-wide holiday party. During a round of “Truth or Dare,” Wyatt drew the short straw and was dared to pick someone next to him for an impromptu ice-water challenge. The choice was between me and Savannah, the reigning campus queen. He chose me. The instant the ice water hit my head, my heart froze solid. 1 The bone-numbing chill ran from my scalp down to the soles of my feet. I gasped, shivering uncontrollably. The atmosphere in the private room had peaked with that single splash. Everyone erupted in cheers, their excitement oblivious to my discomfort. “That’s the move, Wyatt! Savannah is our campus face, our calling card. You can’t let the beauty suffer. Gotta sacrifice the girlfriend for the greater good!” “Seriously, who’d soak Savannah? If she caught a cold or got sick, we’d be stuck without our queen for days.” “Yeah, none of the other girls on campus even come close.” Savannah simply smirked, soaking up the attention with entitled grace. Someone held a microphone up to Wyatt like a reporter. “Mr. Wyatt, what was the psychological impulse behind that difficult choice?” The crowd leaned in, hungry for gossip. Wyatt irritably pushed the glass away. “Stop making a scene. I picked Aria only because Savannah mentioned she had a cold.” He walked over to me, pulling a clean hand towel from the server’s stand to gently wipe my face, then shrugged off his cashmere cardigan and draped it over my shoulders. My disguise, thanks to high-quality, theater-grade makeup, was still intact: my skin the color of wheat, the carefully drawn freckles that covered my cheeks, and my slightly puffy, unimpressive eyes. With my hair plastered wetly to my skull, I was, objectively, not attractive. Laughter rippled through the onlookers. A few girls who had always disliked me piped up. “Wyatt, seriously, why are you even dating Aria? You two are mismatched from head to toe.” Everyone believed I didn’t deserve Wyatt. I’d heard versions of this since we started dating. In the past, Wyatt would always scowl, tell them to take it back, and then reassure me that their opinions didn’t matter to him. But this time, he didn’t refute them. Savannah’s eyes were fixed on him, and I saw Wyatt’s peripheral glance straying right back to her. A sickening sourness rose in my throat. I instinctively grabbed Wyatt’s hand, but he flinched, pulling away instantly. I stared at him in shocked disbelief. Wyatt realized his mistake and quickly re-grasped my hand, but his gaze was shifting nervously. Just then, someone nearby announced, “Oh no, Savannah’s had too much champagne. Wyatt, you’re the only one with a car, can you drive her home?” “Sure.” He agreed without a moment’s hesitation. He turned to me. “Aria, Savannah lives on the opposite side of the city from you. I’ll call you a ride-share. You can head back, okay?” Before I could speak, others rushed to back him up. “What’s the big deal? She looks safe enough, nothing to worry about.” “Aria, you haven’t forgotten how to get home without your boyfriend, have you?” I opened my mouth, but the words stuck. My chest felt tight and heavy. Wyatt would never let me leave alone at night. He always insisted it was too dangerous for a young woman, and he’d wait outside, watching, until I was safely inside, even if it was just a few feet away. I squeezed his hand tightly. “Wyatt, I—” I was about to suggest I could ride along to drop Savannah off, but Savannah let out a painful groan. Wyatt instantly pulled his hand free and rushed to her side. He swept her up into his arms. I stood frozen in place, the party noise rushing into my ears. “Savannah looks flushed, she might have a fever!” “My bad, my bad, I shouldn’t have pushed her to drink with her cold.” Wyatt’s voice was urgent. “I’m taking her to the Urgent Care!” He dashed past me, cradling her, and his shoulder slammed hard into mine. I stumbled, falling to the ground, but he kept running, disappearing with the campus queen in his arms. 2 Between the dousing of ice water and the prolonged wait for a ride in the cold night air, I was predictably running a fever the next morning. I emailed my program advisor to request an extension and then called Wyatt. The phone rang for a long time before it was picked up. “W-Wyatt, I think I have a fever…” My voice was hoarse and weak. There was a silence, and then a woman’s voice—edged with a smug arrogance—came through the line. “Wyatt’s asleep. Do you want me to wake him?” My blood turned to ice. It took me a moment to find my voice. “Savannah? You’re at his place…” She chuckled. “To be precise, I am at his place. I was on an IV drip late last night, and my apartment is far. Wyatt brought me back here.” She paused, then her tone shifted to one of complete, assured victory. “Aria, you know, I could take Wyatt from you whenever I want. But taking your man would be far too easy.” Her words dripped with pride and confidence. You’re not even a worthy opponent, was the unspoken message. I balled my fists, forcing myself to stay calm. My voice was a cold whisper. “Wyatt isn’t some object. And he’s different from other guys.” Savannah laughed harder. “Defending him? Fine, I have something fun for you to hear.” She played a recording. Savannah’s slightly slurred, drunk voice was the first sound. “Wyatt, you never answered my question last night. Why are you really with Aria?” Then Wyatt’s voice: “She’s smart, she’s kind, she’s a good person. Why wouldn’t I be with her?” My tense muscles relaxed a fraction, and a faint, hopeful smile touched my lips. I knew it. Wyatt was different. But before I could feel any lasting relief, Savannah’s voice continued on the recording: “Is that so? Then why did you choose to take me home and not her? Why have you been sneaking glances at me all night?” “Wyatt, what if I told you that if you break up with her, I’ll be with you?” My heart seized up. Please, Wyatt, answer. Tell her you only love me. Reject her, now! A shaky, hesitant sound came from him. “Would you, really?” His voice was laced with an undeniable tension and a subtle, desperate hope. My entire world crashed down. The recording cut off. Savannah’s voice, sharp and triumphant, returned. “Get it now? Aria, being pretty is everything.” I hung up the phone. Hugging my knees to my chest, I finally admitted it: I was terrified. The fever-induced haze made thinking almost impossible, yet the image from high school flashed clearly in my mind: Wyatt climbing through that window, his warm hand enveloping mine. The white-shirted boy, full of righteous conviction. His palm was hot, sending a surge of strength into my own cold grip. “Aria, beauty isn’t the only way to judge a person. You are you.” That sentence had changed everything for me. I had hated myself then. My beauty had brought trouble to my family; my disguised mediocrity had made me a target for bullies. I had questioned my very existence. Wyatt’s words had forced me to re-examine myself, to focus on my character, my soul, rather than my surface. But I had forgotten that people change. Regardless of his feelings, I needed to hear the truth from him, face-to-face. I took some medication and slept for the rest of the day. The next morning, I saw a string of missed calls on my phone. Not one of them was from Wyatt. Before, if I went an hour without texting him, he’d race over, frantic that something had happened to me. I laughed a dry, self-mocking laugh. The answer was obvious. I composed myself and called the person who had called the most: my Program Advisor. She picked up immediately. “Aria, you finally answered. I heard you were sick, so you don’t need to worry about the Ivy League professor reception in three days. We’ve found a replacement.” 3 I froze, then quickly said, “Professor, I’m completely better, I can still go!” A little over a month ago, when the university learned that an Ivy League consortium would be visiting, they selected a small group of top students for the delegation. My fluency in French and German, and my polished etiquette, had earned me a spot. The credits from this event were crucial for my application to a prestigious graduate program overseas. For the past month, I had spent at least four hours every day preparing my presentations. My advisor had praised my dedication just last week. How could they replace me so easily? I rushed to the school to speak with her, insisting I was fully recovered and the assignment would not be affected. She sighed, giving me the honest truth. “Aria, I know how hard you worked. But Wyatt’s family just cut the school a check for a new Research Wing. Wyatt specifically requested Savannah take your place, and we simply couldn’t refuse…” “You what?” I heard my own voice, rough and abrasive. My advisor suddenly remembered who I was dating, and a look of regret crossed her face. “I won’t get involved in your personal matters. If you have questions, you should ask him yourself.” I found Wyatt in the library lounge, coaching Savannah on her conversation skills. Savannah was struggling; her English was poor, and her conversational skills were choppy. I had heard that Savannah desperately needed the academic credits, or she might have to postpone graduation. Wyatt had gone to incredible lengths for her. He looked up at the sound of my footsteps, pausing when our eyes met. “Aria, what are you doing here?” “Wyatt, did you steal my place on the reception team?” A flash of guilt crossed his face, quickly replaced by a sense of calm righteousness. “Aria, Savannah will be held back if she doesn’t get these credits. You’re already set for graduation, you don’t need this. It’s no loss to you to let her have the opportunity.” “But my graduate school application might fail! Do you have any idea how much effort I put into this?” “Then apply next year. I’ll stay with you, okay?” Perhaps because I had never spoken to him with such raw emotion, Wyatt seemed provoked. “Besides, the delegation team is full of handsome men and beautiful women. Wouldn’t you feel out of place standing there with them? I’m doing this to protect you, Aria, so you don’t get mocked again.” I couldn’t believe those words came from his mouth. He was the one who had held me, comforting me repeatedly, telling me to ignore the judgment of others. Now, he was the one stating his true feelings so plainly. The insults others had thrown at my appearance never hurt me. But one sentence from Wyatt broke me completely. The earnest, compassionate boy I had loved was truly gone. My eyes burned, and my body shook with indignation. Perhaps seeing me like this for the first time scared Wyatt a little. He instinctively lifted a hand to wipe away my tears. At that moment, Savannah let out a small sob. “I’m so sorry. This is my fault. I shouldn’t have taken your place. I only asked if there was a chance after you mentioned you were sick.” “It’s just a year’s delay, I can try again next year. Wyatt, give her the position back.” As Savannah spoke, tears streamed down her face like precious pearls. She was, undeniably, beautiful even when crying. Compared to my own hysterical state, Wyatt’s focus instantly shifted. Looking at my red, swollen eyes and the dense layer of freckles on my cheeks, a flicker of disgust crossed his face. “Aria, when did you become so selfish and cold-blooded?” “Savannah’s family is struggling. An extra year of tuition and living expenses is a huge burden on them. Are you really only thinking of yourself?” “I got involved with you because I thought you were kind. But look at you now. There’s nothing left to love.” My fingers curled into tight knots. My voice was a desperate, exhausted whisper. “Then… we’re done. Break up.” 4 Savannah’s shriek rang out simultaneously with my words. Wyatt didn’t even look at me. He raced to Savannah’s side, swatting at a small insect that had landed on her dress. Savannah shrank into his embrace, flashing a quick, confident smirk in my direction. It was the look that confirmed what she had said on the phone: she could take Wyatt whenever she wanted. It no longer mattered whether Wyatt had heard my declaration. A man whose loyalty could be usurped by a pretty face was a man I no longer wanted. After calming Savannah, Wyatt turned around and noticed I was gone. He frowned, then a look of sudden panic flashed in his eyes. He thought he’d heard me say the word ‘breakup.’ He shook his head. No, he must have misheard. I had already resigned myself to losing the graduate school credit when my program advisor called me later that night. One of the selected students had been rushed to the ER with acute gastroenteritis. I was asked to step in at the last minute. I agreed. Early the next morning, I dressed meticulously and waited by the campus entrance. The other student ambassadors arrived, one by one. Savannah’s eyes widened when she saw me. I ignored her, quietly rehearsing the explanation I had painstakingly prepared. A crowd of students who had come to watch the VIPs gathered nearby. Someone yelled out. “Why is there a dirt smudge mixed in with the handsome ambassadors?” “Seriously, one bad apple spoils the whole bunch!” “Didn’t they pick the best students? That usually includes their appearance, right?” “Where does she get the nerve to stand there?” The loudest insults came from Savannah’s fan club, but as the discussion grew, others joined in, their eyes full of amused scorn. I kept my gaze forward, ignoring their judgment. I turned my head and met Wyatt’s eyes. He froze, then quickly looked away, as if afraid someone might discover our relationship. A sudden, wicked impulse sparked within me. I waved at him. “Wyatt! Don’t I look pretty?” Wyatt stared at me, dumbfounded. The surrounding students all looked at him. “Hey, man, you know her?” “Is that your girlfriend?” “No!” Wyatt denied it loudly. The small, deliberate smile I had forced onto my face faltered. My heart felt as if a massive, icy hand had squeezed it tight. The pain was suffocating. Suddenly, someone shoved me hard. My heel caught, and I tumbled to the ground. Something warm and wet splashed over me. Savannah cried out an apology, but it wasn’t for me. “Oh, I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to!” she said to the boy next to her. I looked up. She was apologizing to a male student. “It was so sweet of you to make me that hot oatmeal, and I dropped it!” The boy’s face was beet red. “No, no problem! I can make you another batch!” “Savannah, you did that on purpose!” I scrambled to my feet and lunged forward, aiming a slap at her face. Wyatt rushed in and grabbed my arm, yanking me back. He looked furious. “What are you doing! She only accidentally spilled something on you, and you want to hit her?” “She’s the campus queen! She represents our school’s image!” “And what about me? Am I not a student here? Does her pretty face excuse everything?” “Wyatt, you’re the one who told me that looks don’t matter!” My eyes were swimming in disappointment. I wrenched my arm free and turned to walk away. Wyatt was left standing there, confused. Everyone assumed I had left, too ashamed to stay, soaked in sticky oatmeal, my clothes and makeup ruined. Some said I had finally realized how out of place I was. As the arrival of the guests grew imminent and I still hadn’t returned, the advisor grew frantic. “We’re one short! Is Aria coming back?” “Professor, she deliberately walked out, you should dock her credits!” “This is a key day for the school, she needs a disciplinary record!” “I say she should be expelled! She’s embarrassing the school!” At that moment, a motorcade of dark sedans pulled up, and everyone turned excitedly to the entrance. The advisor, panicking, was about to step in herself when a voice came from behind. “Professor, I’m ready now.” Hearing my voice, the advisor let out a huge sigh of relief and turned to me. “Aria, perfect timing, quick—” She stopped mid-sentence. Her breath caught in her throat. “You… who are you?” Along with the advisor’s stunned question, the crowd also turned. Every single person who saw my face froze, slack-jawed. Savannah’s face went instantly white. I smiled faintly. “Professor, it’s Aria.” A hand clamped down hard on my arm. Wyatt stared at me, his eyes wide with disbelief. “You’re Aria?!”

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