There’s a girl in our office who is a “spoiled corporate slave.” She genuinely believes the CEO is pampering her. During a team dinner, a plate of mango pudding appeared on the table. She snapped a photo and posted it on social media: [At a business banquet, the CEO specially ordered mango pudding just for me~] It turned out to be the complimentary dessert the hotel gives everyone. The CEO sent her on a business trip, booking a red-eye flight to save money. She landed and took a selfie in front of the airport window: [4 AM, the city never sleeps. The CEO specifically wanted me to see the sunrise scenery!] Her behavior was endless. Just when we all thought she was completely delusional, we overheard her on the phone, screaming at her backup boyfriend: “You booked me a red-eye flight? Are you sick in the head? Do I not need to sleep?!” 1 A new female colleague joined our department. She was 26 years old, named Jessica. She looked sweet, always smiling when she spoke. Everyone thought she was easy to get along with. At first, she acted normal and polite. But after her probation period ended, her bizarre personality began to show. First, she loved to act overly cutesy and helpless. One day, I asked Jessica to create a simple spreadsheet, due by the end of the day. The company closes at 6 PM, and I told her at 5:30 PM. This meant Jessica would have to work overtime. Anyone getting a task right before clocking out would be unhappy. I expected Jessica to be annoyed, but I didn’t expect her to pout, grab my hand, and shake it vigorously: “Sarah, nooo~ Nooo~ Nooo~” Hearing that string of whiny “nooo’s” felt like being electrocuted. My scalp went numb. I shook off her hand. “The manager said it must be submitted today.” Jessica pouted so hard you could hang a bottle on her lip. “Really-weally?” I nodded and walked away fast. That night, while drying my hair, I checked my phone. Chloe: [Did you assign work to Jessica?] Me: [No. Why?] Chloe: [Jessica is complaining that you’re bullying her and dumping work on her.] I was furious: [What? The manager specifically named her to do the spreadsheet. I just passed the message.] I’ve been a regular employee for a year, same rank as Jessica. I had no authority to order her around. The spreadsheet was an ad-hoc task from the manager, relayed through me. Chloe: [Jessica says you’re lazy and purposefully gave it to her to make her work overtime.] I put down the hairdryer and typed furiously: [I explicitly told her it was the manager’s order from the start.] Chloe: [Maybe she thought you were using the manager’s name to pressure her. Just a misunderstanding.] This incident made me realize Jessica wasn’t a good person. I kept my distance. The next day, the manager treated everyone to bubble tea. “What do you all want? Speak up.” The other colleagues wisely chose the most affordable options from the popular chain nearby. Jessica didn’t order. She said, “Anything is fine, I like everything.” The manager didn’t ask further. When the drinks arrived, we all started sipping ours. Jessica didn’t drink hers immediately. She arranged the cup with the cute mascot logo, posing it for photos. Click, click, click. We didn’t pay attention and continued chatting. A moment later, she went to the restroom. Chloe whispered, “Look at this!” She shoved her phone screen in our faces. Jessica had posted a grid of photos on Instagram, bragging: [The manager specially ordered a cute bubble tea just for me. He called me a kid last time, and he really treats me like one. I’m a little shy~] “…” We looked at each other, then at our own cups. Every single cup had the same mascot on it. How did it become her exclusive favor in Jessica’s mind? After a while, Chloe said, “What is she doing?” A colleague analyzed, “Maybe she’s trying to suck up to the manager?” “But if she’s sucking up, why is it all self-praise? It doesn’t look like flattery.” “‘He called me a kid last time, and really treats me like one, I’m shy…’ That doesn’t sound like kissing ass.” Silence. Chloe said, “Smells like ‘trophy wife’ syndrome.” A colleague scoffed, “You have to be a wife first. What is she? Just a corporate slave like us.” Another colleague said, “So, a ‘Spoiled Corporate Slave’?” We all laughed. Chloe added, “More like a spoiled donkey, pouting and braying all day.” To be fair, acting cutesy is a minor annoyance. But when combined with other issues, it becomes unbearable. The manager occasionally treated us to coffee or tea. Knowing he was stingy, we defaulted to cheap options. Jessica insisting the manager doted on her was just speechless behavior. Plus, recently, she kept using her “helpless girl” act to push work onto others, annoying everyone. Naturally, the complaints piled up. 2 A few days later, the CEO toured our department and casually complimented Jessica: “You look very young.” Jessica blushed shyly. “Thank you, sir. I’m actually 26.” The CEO didn’t even look at her again and walked away. Not long after, Jessica posted again: [Today, the CEO spotted me in the crowd instantly and called me cute~] Everyone: “…” Chloe laughed like a pig snorting. “The CEO complimented everyone. She makes it sound like it was only her.” “And he said she looked young, not cute, right?” “She deliberately cut her hair in a princess style, wears childish cartoon clothes, and pouts all day. People say she looks young out of politeness, and she takes it seriously.” Others couldn’t help but laugh too. Lately, Jessica loved asking people to guess her age. For social etiquette, people guessed low. Like 18 or 20. Every time, Jessica would squint her eyes in a smile and pout: “Wrong! I’m 26!” Normal people know guessing age is just polite chatter. But Jessica seemed to believe she was genuinely small and adorable, forcing her cuteness on us to get small favors. She probably watched too many anime shows, imitating the exaggerated cuteness, thinking it was charming when it was actually painful to watch. Now that the CEO said she looked young, she was ecstatic, broadcasting to the world that the CEO picked her out of thousands. Hilarious. Mid-month arrived. Jessica had been at the company for six weeks. To show employee appreciation, the CEO took turns treating departments to a simple team dinner. This month was our turn. On the 15th, the CEO took our department out. At the restaurant, we sat around a large round table. Dishes were served one by one. The atmosphere was lively. This restaurant was a long-term partner; they gave discounts and free dishes for company events. The last dish was the complimentary mango pudding. One for everyone. After dinner, we dispersed. On the subway home, I scrolled through my phone out of boredom. Jessica had posted a collage of photos, focusing on a mango pudding. [Out for a business dinner with leadership. Amidst the serious business cuisine, a plate of my favorite mango pudding appeared.] [The leader called me a kid and ordered a kid’s dish just for me. A little surprised, a little touched.] “Pfft!” I almost died laughing. What kind of “Spoiled Slave Literature” is this? The mango pudding was complimentary! Everyone got one! What business dinner? It was a team building meal. She had to frame it like the leader took her alone to a high-end banquet and dotingly ordered for her. This delusional behavior was truly speechless. I didn’t know then that the delusions would get worse. The next day, Jessica went into the manager’s office specifically to give him a bouquet of small daisies. “Manager, thank you for taking me to dinner.” She thanked him shyly. …Yes, she thanked the manager for taking her to the team dinner. Ignoring that the company paid, the dinner was hosted by the CEO, not the manager. We couldn’t understand her logic. Did she really think the manager ordered the pudding for her? Is she that brain-dead? The manager, a slick old fox, took the flowers and said politely, “It was my pleasure. Thank you, Jessica.” He had actually forgotten about her, but since she actively gave flowers, he casually asked: “You’ve been official for two weeks now. What are you working on?” Jessica listed her tasks. She was essentially an errand girl with no specific duties. The manager nodded and handed her a pile of dusty files. “The others are too busy. Extract the data from these and make a report.” Jessica, unaware of the trap, thought her gift worked and the manager was giving her a good task. She agreed immediately, walking out excitedly with the files. Five minutes later, Jessica posted a huge selfie. Hand on cheek, pouting. [The manager calls me Jessica. He totally treats me like a child to be pampered.] Us: “…” Maybe she really is brain-dead. 3 Jessica took selfies openly in the office. It was hard to ignore. Whenever she took a photo, we knew a post was coming. A moment later, she posted a photo of the daisies. [A bright bouquet of daisies in a serious business office. A bit mismatched?] [But for a little girl like me, it’s the only gift I could think of.] [Luckily, the leader liked it and said thank you.] Us: “…” She can spin this too? The Spoiled Slave lives up to her name. In reality, the daisies were soon trashed. We couldn’t understand Jessica. If she knew nothing, why give a gift? If she knew social rules, why daisies? The manager didn’t have a vase, and as a middle-aged man, he didn’t care for daisies. Who knows what she was thinking. No one asked, and no one told her the flowers were in the trash. After posting her fantasy, Jessica started the task. When she opened the files to extract data, she was dumbfounded. Too much, too messy, too fragmented. The manager wanted the old data organized, but we subordinates saw it as tedious, pointless drudgery and always found excuses to avoid it. This time Jessica volunteered herself. The manager, needing a slave, dumped it on her. Jessica had no core tasks, so it was appropriate. After two days, she was reluctant. Typing data one by one was hell on the eyes and neck. Unfamiliar with databases, she got frustrated. So, Jessica started acting cute and pitiful to get help. Someone couldn’t stand the whining and helped her. Leaving work, I saw a colleague bent over Jessica’s computer, guiding her. Checking my phone the next morning, I saw Jessica’s post: [Have you seen the moon at 4 AM?] [4 AM, the city sleeps, but I am awake. The manager is training my abilities.] [Fighting, Jessica!] Photo of charts, desk, files. Implying she worked until 4 AM. …Quite dramatic. At work, the manager walked from his office to Jessica’s desk. “You worked until 4 AM?” “No! ‘4 AM’ is just a trending phrase online. I just used it for the caption.” Jessica didn’t dare lie. Claiming to work until 4 AM for a task with no deadline? No one would believe it! The manager nodded and left. He asked because he either saw the post or someone told him. Unlikely the first; he didn’t care about a lowly employee’s social media. Probably the latter. If Jessica dared lie today, the manager would despise her. Luckily she wasn’t completely stupid. Tripped up just two weeks into the job. She only had her high-profile delusions to blame. Two days later, with help, Jessica finished. She and the helper both sighed in relief. Task done, Jessica dropped a “Thanks” and acted like nothing happened. This annoyed the colleague. If Jessica was a naive rookie, fine. But she bought flowers for the manager after a free dinner. The manager gave her grunt work, and she bragged about being pampered. Yet to the colleague who actually helped, she gave a verbal thanks and nothing else. The colleague had expected at least a coffee. Proved she thought too much. This behavior of treating people differently based on status made even the neutral people dislike Jessica. Offending most of the office in record time is a talent. 4 Two days later, the CEO wanted to send someone to City S for a day trip. The manager took the task and looked for a subordinate. All the veterans made excuses. The manager called Jessica, smiling kindly. “Jessica, there’s an important task for you…” Jessica was nervous and excited. Having offended the department, no one warned her. She thought it was a great opportunity. When told about the trip, Jessica asked, “Oh? Train or plane?” Manager: “Plane, of course. And a hotel stay.” Hearing “plane” and “hotel,” Jessica probably imagined a TV drama business trip scene and agreed happily. She posted before leaving. [The leader said to me today: Jessica, I believe in you.] [First time flying for business. I feel like a corporate girl boss.] [Go Jessica!] Chloe laughed. “Is she sick in the head? It’s a grueling trip, but she frames it as the manager training her. Acting like a spoiled slave again.” I said, “Being this spoiled, her salary must be $10k a month, right?” Chloe roared with laughter. “Her? With our stingy manager? If he doesn’t cut her performance bonus, she’s lucky. She’ll learn when payday comes.” I nodded. “Let her lick boots. She’ll understand when she suffers.” A business trip takes time. Same day return, budget control… obviously a red-eye flight. That’s why we veterans refused. As expected, Jessica flew Budget Airlines. To save money, the company booked a 2 AM flight. Next day, Jessica posted. Standing in front of a floor-to-ceiling window. [4 AM, the city sleeps. I mentioned this phrase once, and the leader remembered.] [The CEO specially wanted me to see the scenery at dawn!] [So beautiful. Seeing the world from a different angle is a new experience.] Arriving at 4 AM meant reaching the hotel by 5 or 6, sleeping an hour or two, then working. Rushing back in the afternoon. Exhausted and dusty. Yet she claimed the CEO pampered her. Her brain wiring was truly incomprehensible. We would have just mocked her privately. But the manager, having seen her posts forwarded to him, started following her. He was very satisfied with her attitude and used her to lecture us: “Look at Jessica! No complaints, finding joy in hardship!” “Even a red-eye flight! She appreciates the dawn scenery! You should learn from the new generation’s mindset.” The manager resented us for dodging the trip and used Jessica to beat us down. We resented him too. He loved grabbing tasks meant for other departments to curry favor with his bosses. Like the data entry, like this trip. Not our job. We did it before, worked overtime, and got zero extra pay. Bullying the slaves! Making the horse run without feeding it grass. Over time, we learned to dodge. Now Jessica arrived, insisting the capitalists loved the slaves, becoming the “model example.” Everyone was unhappy. If she wants to bootlick, we certainly won’t help her, lest we become stepping stones.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “388178”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

1 I transmigrated into a CEO romance novel, becoming the CEO’s secretary—and a minor female villain. My name is Sarah Shen. Honestly, it’s not exactly transmigration; I just suddenly realized I’m living inside a book. It’s a melodramatic angst-fest called After His Wife Left, Mr. Li Begged for Forgiveness in the Crematorium. The male lead is my boss, Lucas Li. As a child, he was saved by the female lead, Sophia Song, but he mistakenly thought it was her sister, Sunny Song. Later, Sunny died in a car accident, and all evidence pointed to Sophia. Lucas sent her to prison. Years later, she gets out, they have a tumultuous entanglement, Lucas discovers the truth, regrets everything, and successfully wins her back. Why do I believe this ridiculous story? Because my boss, Lucas Li, really doesn’t like his wife, Sophia Song. He really did love her sister, Sunny. And Lucas really did send Sophia to prison. But none of this has anything to do with me, a minor character who appears in the first few chapters to mock the female lead and pine for the male lead. The problem is, this book has a bug. I never mocked the female lead, and I don’t love the male lead. I’m in love with the male lead’s 24/7, on-call, all-powerful assistant and bodyguard—Ethan York. Yes, the man behind every CEO. Why him? Don’t let his cold, “don’t come near me” exterior fool you. He acts just like his boss, ruthless in business. But actually, he is incredibly cute! If he says one sentence to me, his ears turn red. Accidental physical contact makes him freeze up, eyes glazed, stuttering. This… is a certified pure boy! I seriously suspect he likes me too! Although the book describes him as emotionless and cold as a machine, to me, Sarah Shen, that’s nothing. Sisters, I’m going to chase my love! Okay, maybe I’m too naive. The plot has reached the point where Sophia Song is released from prison and escapes. Lucas Li, furious upon hearing the news, declares: “Damn woman, how dare you run?” He immediately sends Ethan York to catch her. Now I can’t even see Ethan’s shadow, while Lucas handles business alone in the office. I don’t see any hidden love for the heroine here. Pah, scumbag. I’m sitting in my office chair, typing a word occasionally, humming a tune. I’m bored because no one dares to provoke Lucas right now; anyone who goes in comes out crying. Sigh, he cares about the heroine but doesn’t realize it. Ah, I miss my little Ethan. Is he hungry? Did he eat? Did he catch the heroine… Looking at my phone, I suddenly have a bold idea. I open WeChat and find Ethan’s contact. Our last interaction was still “I accepted your friend request, now we can chat.” What should I send? “Hi!” …Too stupid. “Assistant York, did you eat?” Eat, eat, all I know is eat! Help, what can I send that isn’t awkward but still polite? I typed and deleted, typed and deleted. Unbeknownst to me, on the other end, Ethan was staring at the “Typing…” status, so nervous he could cry. “Tsk, why is my phone lagging?” I started tapping randomly on the screen. Nothing happened until I tapped the video call button. Suddenly, as if possessed, it started dialing… It… dialed. I froze, stunned by this sudden “inspiration.” Before I could hang up, the video connected. !!! “A… Assistant York, good morning.” I gave an awkward smile and a stiff wave. Good morning? It’s noon! I want to strangle myself. On the screen, he looked at me. He was wearing a black suit, his narrow eyes cold, lips pressed into a thin line. I noticed his eyes were slightly red. That damn Lucas Li must be overworking him. Lucas deserves his “crematorium” chasing arc. At that moment, Lucas Li sneezed in his office. Ethan looked at me, then glanced away. If you looked closely, he seemed a bit flustered. “Secretary Shen, g… good morning.” 2 As he spoke, Ethan lowered his head slightly, afraid to look at me. Even through the video, his ears were visibly red. He seemed shy. Oh my god, that hit my soft spot so hard. I was melting from the cuteness, immediately picturing a shy golden retriever. Forgive my doting expression, which caused Ethan to quickly hang up the moment he glanced up at me. Me: ??? On the other side, Ethan clutched his phone, his cold mask crumbling. He rested his forehead in his hand and laughed. Sarah is… too cute. Days of exhaustion were swept away. Ethan looked at the call log—less than five minutes—and silently took a screenshot. This was his first video call with Sarah. His photo album also had a screenshot of Sarah adding him on WeChat. He didn’t use WeChat before. When Sarah wanted to add him, he panicked and immediately set one up just for her. So, his only contact was Sarah. Just one is enough, hehe. There was also a photo of Sarah eating with him (actually a company dinner where we sat together). And the coffee Sarah gave him (actually, I gave one to every employee—don’t ask, it’s survival). Ethan looked at the photos and smiled with satisfaction, then felt a pang of loss. He and Sarah shouldn’t just have this… there should be more… (Boy, your thoughts are dangerous.) Back to me. Hung up on, I was confused. The only explanation was that Ethan was stunned by my beauty. Sigh, what a cutie. I realized Ethan seems to care a lot about his character setting in the book. But he probably doesn’t realize his acting is terrible, or rather, his ears and mouth can’t keep up with his performance. The next day. I was still a hardworking employee, but with a twist—drama was unfolding. Our heroine was caught while escaping and brought to the company. I sat in my exclusive drama-watching spot, watching Ethan lead a slow-moving woman. This is the heroine, Sophia Song. She kept her head down, face pale, wrapped tightly in clothes that couldn’t hide her frailty. Three years of prison crushed a woman’s dignity and love. The light in her eyes was gone, replaced by a dead pool. She walked like a zombie. Huh? You ask why I’m suddenly so poetic? Oh, I just copied the original book’s description. That… doesn’t count as plagiarism, right? Actually, I was only focused on Ethan. I stared at him the whole way. I stared so hard he started walking with the same arm and leg forward. But this block of wood still wouldn’t look at me, staring resolutely ahead. Fine, for the sake of his character, I silently withdrew my gaze. When they reached the CEO’s office, I looked again. Ethan stood sideways at the door, gesturing for Sophia to enter: “Madam, the boss is waiting inside.” No emotion at all. Ethan truly was like the cold robot described in the book. He seemed to be like this with everyone else. Sophia’s dull eyes finally rippled. She looked at Ethan with sorrow: “Assistant York, why?” She had begged him to let her go, but was brought back anyway. What was the difference between here and that place? Except behind this door was a man more terrifying than prison. So pitiful, my heart broke watching. Unfortunately, Ethan remained unmoved, not even blinking: “Madam, I am just following orders.” Actually, I understand Ethan. Lucas Li is the kind of “great” boss who ships employees to Africa for making mistakes. Plus, the book emphasizes Ethan’s loyalty. But that didn’t stop me from being annoyed at the current Ethan. So I ran to the bathroom to cool off. (Actually, yesterday’s hot pot upset my stomach.) Unexpectedly, as soon as I entered the bathroom, Ethan followed. He stopped when he saw I went into the ladies’ room. Many female employees going in and out saw the boss’s assistant standing at the door like a guardian deity and didn’t dare enter. Inside, I was puzzled by the unprecedented silence. Because he was at the company, Ethan dared not show much expression, leaving his mind to run wild. “Is Sarah angry? Her cheeks were puffed out.” “The book says girls get angry mostly because of jealousy. Is it because I was too close to Madam just now?” “The book also says when a girl is angry, you have to coax her, treat her to dinner and movies, and give gifts. What gift does Sarah like…” … 3 I washed my hands and walked out of the bathroom. I immediately saw Ethan with his head down, deep in thought at the door. I stopped in my tracks. Seeing me come out, he panicked, his thoughts scattered, trying his best to maintain his reasonably well-managed cold face. Seeing him like this, juxtaposed with the cold robot from earlier, the contrast was hilarious. Only I could see it. I suppressed a laugh and greeted him: “Assistant York, something the matter?” He looked at me, face flushed, and seemingly mustered great courage to say: “Secretary Shen, are you angry?” …Okay, from his look earlier, I thought he was going to confess his love. I overthought it. This block of wood won’t bloom that easily. But noticing my mood from so far away… I was touched. Ethan really hits all my soft spots. I shook my head to indicate I wasn’t angry, but Ethan’s eyes seemed disappointed. Me??? So you want me to be angry? I sighed silently. Holding the philosophy that wood won’t bloom without watering, I decided to take the initiative. “Assistant York, are you free for dinner this week?” A few days later. Ethan and I agreed to meet at a mall. Everything would be perfect… if the heroine wasn’t there. God, if I sinned, let the law punish me, not Lucas Li demanding I go shopping with his wife and having Ethan guard us. My pink-bubble fantasies were popped by Lucas Li. If not for the overtime pay, I might have fought him. Ethan followed behind us. I didn’t need to turn around to feel his low pressure. He didn’t dare fight his boss either. We really are a pair of star-crossed lo… no, star-crossed wage slaves. Wearing my professional smile, I asked the numb-looking Sophia Song with concern: “Madam, is there anywhere you’d like to go?” Sophia stopped, turned to me with dull eyes: “Can I leave this place?” My smile froze… No, really no. If you leave, Ethan and I are booking a multi-year tour to Africa tomorrow. I didn’t speak. Ethan moved to enact his robot protocols, but Sophia sneered: “Forget it. You’re just his dogs anyway.” Then she walked into a western restaurant. Me: Insulting. Too insulting. If not for the money, do you think I’d want to guard you? Today was supposed to be my sweet date with Ethan. I’m just a worker, why treat me like this! I was furious. But to avoid flying to Africa tomorrow, I forcefully swallowed my anger and turned to look at Ethan with grievance. Ethan didn’t care about Sophia’s words, but he cared about Sarah. “Sarah is wronged.” He immediately remembered the book saying girls need coaxing when wronged, preferably physical comfort, like a hug. He didn’t dare hug Sarah now. He hesitated, then reached out and held my hand, thumb rubbing it a few times like soothing a kitten. I stared wide-eyed at this sudden flirtation. The grievance in my heart vanished, replaced by warmth. The calluses on Ethan’s hand tickled, but my face burned hotter. Ethan was even worse; he really gathered his courage to hold my hand. Soon, he let go. His first sentence was: “Secretary Shen, let’s find Madam.” …… 4 Fine, seeing as this block of wood finally made progress, I’ll forgive that sentence. I stepped forward with a smile, not caring if Ethan followed. I missed the silly grin he had while looking at his hand behind me. If I saw it, I would have taken a picture. Ethan looked at his hand, grinning like a fool. “Sarah’s hand is so soft. Didn’t want to let go. Good thing I controlled myself.” “…Not washing this hand today.” “Lucas Li, let me go. I’ve already paid for my sins…” “Let you go? Sophia Song, your sins can never be paid off in a lifetime!” “Why? I was in prison for three years. I have nothing left!” “Sunny’s life is gone too! Three years isn’t enough!” …… Ethan and I stood outside the door, two cold faces listening to the fierce argument inside. Here’s the situation: Lucas took Sophia to a banquet, watched coldly as she was humiliated, and when her family was mentioned, her suppressed emotions finally exploded. Lucas watched with a hidden joy he didn’t even realize. He felt the proud Sophia Song of years ago was finally back… not the lowly woman who knelt at the drop of a hat. Sophia didn’t want to endure it anymore. Brought to the company, she started arguing with him. Hence the opening scene. When Ethan told me the full story… My expression was: Lucas Li is sick. He is mentally ill. Before, he hated Sophia’s pride, finding her arrogance annoying. Now he wants that proud Sophia back after destroying the very capital of her pride. I couldn’t help glancing at Ethan beside me, worried if decades with Lucas twisted his worldview. Feeling my gaze, Ethan looked back. “Is Sarah scared?” “Boss is indeed too fierce. He scared Sarah.” Lucas: ??? The argument inside continued. Lucas brought up Sophia’s parents to threaten her into obedience. If she pleased him, he could help repay the Song family debts (forgot to mention, Lucas bankrupted the Song family). See, how “caring.” Sophia quieted down instantly, tears in her eyes. She had long forgotten she was still the eldest Miss Song. The Miss Song who once obsessively loved the Li family heir. Unfortunately, it wasn’t mutual. Lucas didn’t like the look in Sophia’s eyes. She used to look at him with joy. Now, only fear, terror, and a trace of hatred. He pretended not to care, hooked his lips, and adjusted his cuffs: “What? Miss Song is unwilling?” … Ethan, don’t stop me. Let me go in and teach Lucas the difference between being a human and being a dog. I clawed at the door. Ethan clawed at me. Perhaps worried I’d rush in and beat Lucas, he didn’t know who to help. In the heat of the moment, he blurted out: “Sarah…”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “388177”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

My husband left work early to pick up our daughter, Sophie. I was at home, preparing a birthday surprise for her. I had just put the Boston lobsters and king crabs in the steamer when my husband texted: “Turn off the stove! Don’t cook them yet!” I knew immediately. Sophie’s classmate had tagged along again. It wasn’t that I was stingy or didn’t want to share. But this classmate lived right across the hall. For the past few months, she and her brother had been practically living at our house, eating and drinking for free. Meanwhile, her mother wouldn’t even offer my daughter a single popsicle. I ran to the kitchen and turned off the heat. Good food is for family. We’ll eat later, just us. 1 For Sophie’s twelfth birthday, we planned a quiet celebration at home. My husband, Mark, had exceeded his sales targets recently, and his boss gifted him two boxes of premium seafood. Boston lobsters and king crabs—worth over a thousand dollars easily. Mark and I have lived half our lives without tasting such luxury. Sophie had seen mukbang videos online and was drooling over them. Today, our family of three was finally going to feast. “She insisted on getting in the car. I couldn’t exactly kick her out once she was seated,” Mark texted while waiting at a red light. He drove today intending to take Sophie shopping, but ended up stuck with our neighbor’s kid. “It’s fine. Just don’t let her in the house later,” I replied. Our neighbor, Karen, had a daughter named Bella in Sophie’s class. We’ve known them for about a year. Bella frequently came over, usually right around dinnertime, shamelessly asking what we were eating. Then she’d give me puppy eyes and ask, “Auntie, can I have some?” In front of Sophie, I couldn’t refuse. After this happened repeatedly, I told Bella not to come during meals, but she ignored me and kept ringing the doorbell. When they did homework, Sophie would share her snacks. Bella always asked for extra to take home to her little brother, Ben. I told Sophie not to share everything. A case of 24 milk cartons used to last Sophie a month. Now, sharing with Bella, it was gone in a week. Milk, cookies, cake—individually cheap, but the cost adds up fast! Sophie was unhappy. “Mom, she’s my best friend. She shares with me too.” I softened, thinking I shouldn’t interfere too much with her friendships. Aside from being thick-skinned, Bella was generally polite. Until a month ago, I overheard Karen talking to her daughter in the hallway. “The neighbors bought pork knuckles today. Go over there and eat your fill.” “And bring some snacks back for your brother.” “Come back after 9:30 so we save on electricity.” I didn’t confront them immediately to keep the peace. But for the next two weeks, we didn’t cook a single meat dish for dinner. Bella would come, scan the table, see nothing she liked, and leave. I also confiscated the snacks in Sophie’s room. Gradually, Bella stopped coming over for homework. Without the food, she became cold to Sophie, ignoring her in the hallway. “See? She’s only friends with you for what she can get,” I told Sophie. “No food, no friendship.” Sophie, being stubborn, still greeted Bella and invited her over. “No food at your house, I’m not going,” Bella bluntly refused. Sophie even spent her own allowance to buy Bella snacks. A week ago, Sophie ran home crying, wanting a popsicle. “Mom, you were right.” I took her downstairs to buy one. Karen was seemingly waiting for me. Holding an apple, she looked apologetic. “I’m so sorry. I always buy popsicles in even numbers for Bella and Ben.” “If I gave one to Sophie, I’d have an odd number, and my kids would fight.” “You only have one child; you don’t know the struggles of raising two!” She squatted down and shoved the apple into Sophie’s hand. “Understand Auntie, okay?” Then she stood up, smiling. “When are you making pork knuckles again? Bella’s been craving them, and I’m a terrible cook.” “If you can’t cook, buy takeout,” I said coldly. I tossed the apple back to her. I thought that was the end of it. But Karen’s skin was thick enough to pretend nothing happened. Here she was, standing at my door, holding Ben and Bella. “It’s Sophie’s birthday! I’m not cooking tonight. They can eat here.” 2 She reached for the door handle. I blocked it from the inside, forcing a polite smile. “Sorry, we aren’t celebrating this year.” “Just a small cake. You should take the kids home.” Karen looked surprised. “Not celebrating? I saw a delivery guy bring two boxes to your place at noon.” “Heard it was seafood. Bella and Ben haven’t had seafood in ages. Perfect timing, right?” She pulled a red envelope from her bag and handed it to Sophie. “A little something from Auntie. Happy Birthday!” I tried to block it, leading to a shoving match. It was rush hour; neighbors were passing by, watching. Karen loudly announced she was giving Sophie a red envelope, earning praise from onlookers. Mark grabbed the envelope and stuffed it back into her bag. “Thanks, but we really want a private family dinner.” Taking advantage of the chaos, Bella and Ben slipped through the door. They ran to the kitchen. Clang! A pot lid hit the floor. “Mom! They really have king crabs and lobsters!” they cheered. I never imagined children could be so rude. Mark went in and dragged them out. They fought back, clinging to the sofa, screaming and kicking. Ben suddenly yelped. “Why are you hitting my son?!” Karen screeched. Mark, scolded publicly, tried to explain he hadn’t hit anyone. Karen stormed in, grabbed her kids, and turned to yell at me. “Is this over a popsicle? Are you that petty?” “No one in class plays with your daughter except mine! I let her come to the party out of kindness! It’s not like they’re freeloading!” “It’s just crab! If you don’t want to share, fine! Don’t make up disgusting excuses!” She twisted the narrative perfectly. Neighbors poked their heads out. “Sophie’s mom, that’s not right. The kids are close friends, why exclude them?” “How much can kids eat? It’s just seafood. Why be so stingy?” “And hitting a child? That’s too much.” Before I could explain, Karen dragged her kids home and slammed her door. Mark and I looked at each other. It took a while to explain the truth to the neighbors. Afterward, I steamed the seafood. We were about to eat when the class group chat exploded. 3 Karen’s message was at the top: [Can’t believe I have neighbors like this.] [It’s her kid’s birthday. I gave a red envelope, and they lied about not celebrating and kicked my kids out.] [Turns out they just wanted to hoard the king crab and lobster for themselves.] [My daughter is such a good friend to hers! And this is how they treat her?] A parent tagged Karen: [Wrong chat?] Silence for three minutes. Karen: [Oops, sorry everyone! Wrong chat. Can’t delete it now. Please ignore.] But people love drama. Someone tagged her: [Is this about Sophie’s mom? You guys are neighbors, right?] Karen didn’t reply, but the discussion started. [My son said it’s Sophie’s birthday. She promised to invite him but canceled last minute. He was so sad.] [Kids’ birthdays should be lively!] [I invite the whole class for my daughter. Doesn’t cost much.] [I saw Sophie’s dad post the crab on Facebook. Doesn’t look that big.] [Sophie’s mom is being petty here.] … I barely knew these parents, yet they were judging me. I tagged Karen: [Stop lying. We didn’t invite you. You forced the red envelope on us.] [What we eat is none of your business.] [Your daughter practically lived at my house for months, eating our food and taking snacks home. Did I ever complain?] Karen tagged me back: [Freeloading? That’s harsh. What did she eat?] [If we’re counting, your daughter ate a bag of chips, two packs of konjac snacks, three spicy strips, and a chicken leg at my son’s birthday.] [I bought her a lemonade, an ice cream cone, and even a dress when we went shopping.] [If you’re going to be this petty, our kids are done being friends.] A parent posted a laughing emoji: [Wow, Karen remembers every detail.] I laughed too. Those snacks were the only food at her son’s party, shared among three kids. The lemonade and ice cream were shared between Sophie and Bella. The dress was a buy-one-get-one-free item from a street stall. I explained all this in the chat. Karen accused me of slander. Seeing her panic, I uploaded a 5-minute and 37-second audio recording. 4 The recording started from the moment Karen opened her mouth at my door. Her unreasonable demands were clear as day. Then I uploaded screenshots of my online shopping history—six months of gifts for Bella. Pens, notebooks, dresses, shoes. Ranging from $10 to $50. I tagged Karen: [If I recall, the dress your daughter is wearing today is from my order history. Screenshot #8.] [Everyone, judge for yourselves.] Silence in the group. Karen blew up my phone with messages and calls demanding I delete the post. I blocked her. Peace at last. A few minutes later, several parents added me. I thought they wanted to comment on the drama, but they just asked for links to the clothes I bought. One parent messaged: “You’re too nice. Why do that for her kid? I wouldn’t do that even for my best friend’s child.” Soon after, the teacher disbanded the group and created a new one. “Parents, please keep private matters private.” The farce ended. I worried Sophie might be gossiped about at school, but she said kids were actually nicer to her. Bella was moved away from Sophie’s desk. They stopped talking. Karen and I avoided each other. When we did meet, she’d turn her nose up in the air. Neighbors learned the truth and whispered, “That woman has no shame.” A while later, I noticed my delivery boxes disappearing from my door. An elderly lady on the second floor collected cardboard, but she usually stuck to the dumpster area. I ignored it at first. One morning, I woke up early and heard rustling outside. Checking the peephole, I saw Karen taking all my boxes.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “388176”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

Julian has been my “house husband” since childhood, raised by my family. Every day he cooks, cleans, and takes care of everything, yet he never lets me touch him. I always thought he wanted a proper title or commitment. Until one day, I saw him blush just because his hand brushed against another girl’s. Suddenly, comments floated across my vision like a live stream chat: [The male lead is so innocent! Blushing just from a touch.] [Hurry up and leave the female side character! Go have a sweet and spicy romance with our heroine!] [Thanks to the side character for raising him so well, but does she really think she can marry him?] Calmly, I sent him divorce papers and vanished without a trace. Years later, I returned to the country for a conference. As soon as I stepped out of the car, I was kidnapped and dragged back. The kidnapper kissed me frantically while sobbing: “Wife, please don’t leave me.” 1 I got off work very late today. When I arrived home, I was surprised to smell the aroma of a hot meal. “Wife, you’re back.” Julian poked his head out of the kitchen, wearing an apron and holding a spatula. “Wash your hands and eat.” The warm lights created a cozy atmosphere that softened my heart. My voice softened too. “I told you I was working late. You didn’t have to wait.” I’ve raised Julian for over ten years. Year after year, day after day, he’s played the perfect husband. Cleaning, organizing, cooking, doing laundry—he has no life of his own. His only hobby seems to be revolving around me. I once reminded him, “You don’t have to revolve around me every day. Go do something you like.” He always gave a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes and said, “What I like is taking care of you, Chloe.” Usually, I’d just smile. Then transfer an extra ten thousand dollars to his account as allowance. 2 After dinner. Julian was washing the dishes. His white tank top was soaked with sweat from his work. Without the apron, the fabric clung to his body, revealing the defined contours of his chest. My eyes darkened. I’m twenty-four. He’s five years older than me, twenty-nine this year. Does he really have no desire at all? “Leave it for tomorrow.” I walked over barefoot and gently grabbed Julian’s wrist. He noticeably stiffened. His voice became unnatural. “Wife, stop…” “You call me wife, so why not?” I pressed closer to him, my hand slowly sliding under the hem of his tank top. Julian’s body was burning hot. The scent of expensive cologne mixed with sweat and cooking oil gave me a secret thrill. “Julian,” my hand reached dangerous territory as I whispered, “are you truly innocent, or just pretending?” “No—” Accompanied by the loud crash of a ceramic bowl shattering on the floor. Julian pushed me away. He leaned against the sink, head down, gasping for air. I slammed into the marble countertop. The cold, hard edge sent a sharp pain through my lower back, sobering me up instantly. “Wife, I…” Realizing what he had done, Julian rushed to help me. His hands were shaking violently. I slapped his hand away. “Forget it.” I took a deep breath and walked away. 3 The next day, I went to the office early. My assistant brought me coffee and asked, “Ms. Jiang, what happened to your hand? Do you need first aid?” There was a tiny cut from the shattered ceramic last night. It didn’t hurt, but on my pale skin, it looked glaring and annoying. Just like my marriage to Julian. Feeling a sudden wave of irritation, I left my office and went to the staff area. I stopped in front of someone’s computer for a long time. “Ms. Jiang, do you think… my proposal is good?” I looked down and saw a young face. His badge said “Intern.” Shawn. Quite bold. I narrowed my eyes and asked, “Why do you think you can pull this off?” He began to explain his case. Since I’m slightly nearsighted, I leaned down to look at the screen, listening carefully. Suddenly, my assistant poked me and whispered, “Ms. Jiang, a man is here. He says he’s your husband.” I looked up in surprise. Shawn looked too. We realized Julian was standing not far away. Who knows how long he’d been watching us? The staff were all staring at him. “Why are you here?” I walked over, instinctively grabbing his sleeve to lead him away. But Julian didn’t move. His gaze was still fixed on the intern. I frowned and called softly, “Julian.” He turned his head. A pair of misty peach-blossom eyes looked straight at me, rims red. Losing patience, I asked again, “What are you doing here?” Julian forced an ugly smile and said, “You didn’t eat breakfast this morning. I made a fresh one and brought it over. You have stomach issues; you can’t skip meals.” His voice wasn’t loud, but it wasn’t quiet either. Enough for the employees around us to hear. Whispers started: “Isn’t Ms. Jiang single? Someone sent her flowers last time…” Julian’s face looked even worse. I didn’t say anything, just signaled him to follow me to my office. 4 “Leave the food. I’ll have my assistant drive you back.” As soon as we entered, I dropped the act. Julian stood before me. “Let me stay a while. You used to say you wanted me as your assistant because you were afraid I’d be bored at home.” “You don’t meet the educational or language requirements for an assistant,” I replied habitually. Unaware that he had quietly clenched his fists. Clenched, then quietly released. Like countless cowardly compromises before. “I’ll go then,” Julian said. “Remember to come home for dinner, wife.” I nodded. Watching him leave, my restless heart calmed down a bit. I hadn’t expected him to come personally just because I skipped breakfast in a fit of pique. It made me feel I was being overly cold to him. For over a decade, the fact that he was raised by my family to be my husband was an open secret in our circle, but never discussed publicly. At the company, everyone thought I was single. Business partners had even expressed interest in me. Even for a “house husband,” he was a bit too spineless. So, his refusal to let me touch him was normal, I suppose. I grabbed my car keys and ran downstairs. It had only been a few minutes; Julian shouldn’t have gone far. I finally ran to the company entrance, panting, looking around for that handsome figure. To my surprise. Next to the bus stop, there was a splash of white beside Julian. A girl in a white dress was gently touching his face, looking sad as she said: “After so many years, you’re still exactly as I remembered.” “Don’t suffer for others’ sake. It breaks my heart to see.” I saw it clearly. Julian, who always resisted my touch, now had a blush rising on his cheeks. At the same time, rows of comments appeared in the air: [The male and female leads finally meet! Exciting!!!] [The male lead is so pitiful. Without the heroine, he’s just a wronged puppy every day. Boohoo.] [And he’s so innocent! Keeping himself pure for the heroine all these years. Blushing just from a touch.] [Hurry, dump the side character! We want to see the pitiful puppy get spoiled by the heroine!]

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “388175”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

I was Julian Thorne’s companion for three years. He set many rules for me. No touching him. No crossing the line. He was afraid his “white moonlight”—his childhood sweetheart—would misunderstand. I was cautious, terrified of being thrown back to the poverty-stricken mountains I came from. The day his sweetheart became single again, perhaps to avoid suspicion or simply because I disgusted him, he told his grandfather, Mr. Thorne: “I don’t want Autumn to be my companion anymore.” Terrified of losing my chance at an education, I swore a solemn oath: “I swear, I, Autumn Reed, will never fall in love with Julian Thorne in this lifetime. If I do, may I die a horrible death. Are you satisfied?” Later, that oath trapped him for a lifetime. 1 The Thorne family wanted to pick a companion for Julian from the underprivileged students they sponsored. Mr. Thorne chose me at first glance. At that time, Mr. Thorne was visiting the countryside, and his car got stuck in the mud. I was catching mudfish nearby and went up to help push. Despite my small frame, I was incredibly strong. After we got the car out, I cheekily asked if they wanted to buy my mudfish. Just like that, I was chosen. The day I was brought to the Thorne estate, Julian immediately put me in my place. He pushed a test paper in front of me. “If your IQ isn’t high enough, you don’t deserve to be my companion.” That day, I took a Math Olympiad test for the first time. The questions were interesting, the difficulty average. Seeing me finish in under an hour, Julian was surprised. Sitting in his wheelchair, he started laying down the rules. “I only have three requirements. First, no touching me.” Pushing a wheelchair didn’t require touching him, so that seemed easy enough. “Second, no pitying me.” Looking at his empty pant leg, I nodded solemnly. The Thorne family controlled 40% of the nation’s shipbuilding industry. To say they could turn clouds into rain with a wave of their hand was no exaggeration. Born into such a prominent family, who was I to pity him? “Third, we have an employment relationship. I hope our relationship remains purely professional. Don’t get any funny ideas.” I looked at his sculpted profile in the dappled light, then at my own dusty reflection in the glass cabinet. I understood. He meant a toad shouldn’t dream of eating swan meat. 2 Being a companion meant accompanying Julian through three years of high school. Mr. Thorne said as long as I stayed with Julian, helped him around school, and looked out for him, the Thorne family would cover my future education—whether it was a master’s, a doctorate, or studying abroad. To me, this wasn’t a transaction, but a blessing. The Thorne family gave me clean clothes, a spacious room, and ample time to study. All I had to do was fetch water, run errands, and push Julian’s wheelchair between classes. It was a luxury work-study program. At school, Julian was an eye-catcher. He was exceptionally handsome and the only student in a wheelchair. Even though he dressed and traveled low-key, gazes followed him everywhere. Naturally, classmates were curious about our relationship. One day, after I politely asked Julian for the seventh time if he needed fresh air, the student in front of us turned around. “What exactly is your relationship? You seem close but distant. You can’t be master and servant, right?” Without looking up, Julian replied, “None of your business.” He was always like this—withdrawn, cold, seemingly uninterested in making friends. Oh, wait, not always. Every weekend when he made international video calls, his mood would turn from cloudy to sunny. I didn’t know who made him so happy. 3 At school, besides taking care of Julian, I buried my head in books. I didn’t socialize much. Gradually, Julian and I became known as the odd duo. Some called us “The Crippled Prince and his Country Bumpkin Follower.” Yes, my accent, my sun-darkened skin, my whole aura screamed “rural.” It didn’t matter. I didn’t care. But the “Crippled Prince” remark led to a fight between me and the strongest guy in the sports class. That day, I was pushing Julian out of school. A jock holding a basketball sneered, “Yo, isn’t that the crippled prince and his bumpkin sidekick?” I stopped and glared at him coldly. Julian didn’t even look at the guy. He just said to me, “Ignore him. Let’s go.” The jock laughed loudly. “Keep pretending, you little coward.” Julian reminded me again, “Let’s go.” I didn’t leave. Instead, I walked straight up to the guy and punched him. Yes, a punch, not a slap. I jumped up and hit him on the right cheek. I was strong. He stumbled back several steps, clutching his face, stunned. I dropped a threat: “Keep running your mouth and I’ll hit you every time I see you!” The driver, waiting in the distance, said he finally understood why Mr. Thorne chose me. However, Julian wasn’t grateful. His evaluation was: “Reckless, impulsive, stupid.” He said arguing with low-class people lowered one’s status; using physical violence against verbal violence invited trouble. But what civilization can you discuss with uncivilized people? I retorted, “He insulted you, he deserved it.” In the car, Julian was silent for a long time before speaking slowly: “Autumn, we have an employment relationship. Don’t bring personal emotions into it.” I knew what he was reminding me of. 4 There were many such reminders and warnings later. Two instances left the deepest impression. Once, I went to his study to borrow an Agatha Christie collection. There, I saw a photo of him surfing. Spirited, smiling brightly. Involuntarily, I looked at where his right leg should be. Strong, powerful, tanned. When Julian coughed behind me, I jumped and hurriedly put the photo back. He looked at me, his voice cold. “Whatever you’re thinking, stop. I said, no pity.” That time, I nodded furiously. Another time was accompanying him to a music festival. Usually, he was gloomy and silent, locking himself in his room or the music studio. But at that festival, he transformed. Seeing him DJing on stage in his wheelchair completely overturned my perception. The powerful electronic beats, synced with his finger movements, pounded against my heart. He raised his arms confidently to welcome the cheers. The breath of youth, the vigor of life. Hot and passionate; broken yet resilient. I admit, my heart skipped a beat. But—I knew my place. The Little Prince says: “You become responsible, forever, for what you have tamed.” And that “One runs the risk of weeping a little, if one lets oneself be tamed.” I didn’t want to weep. Besides, he set the rule: no funny ideas. I promised him. As I was giving myself a pep talk, he came off stage. Taking the water bottle I handed him, his fingers brushed mine. The warm touch made my face heat up uncontrollably. Julian keenly caught my reaction. This time, he was blunt: “Why are you blushing? Don’t get any ideas about me. I have someone I like, and she’s coming back soon.”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “388174”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

I was a child bride, sold to the Sterling family out of desperation. Julian Sterling hated me from the start. He hated that I was older than him. He hated that I tried to manage him. He hated that I ate three white buns at a meal. “When I grow up, I definitely won’t marry you. Go back home!” Go home? Home meant endless beatings and bowls of watery vegetable gruel. I was terrified. Out of options, I made a deal with him: we would treat each other as brother and sister in private. Once he succeeded in life, we would go our separate ways and marry other people. Later, Mrs. Sterling passed away, and we had only each other to rely on. In our hardest year, I sold myself as a servant to a teacher so Julian could become his student. We endured. Finally, ten years later. Julian graduated top of his class from the academy, securing a bright future. But he reneged on our deal. 1 I wanted to go back home and get married. I had wanted to tell Julian this for a long time. Auntie May had sent a letter saying she found a good match for me. The second son of the town’s miller. His family was well-off, and he was a decent man. He had an older and a younger brother, so he didn’t need to carry on the family name and could marry into my family if needed. It sounded like a great match. But after Julian’s success, he was incredibly busy. Drinking with classmates one day, attending banquets with superiors the next. I tried to find him several times, but his assistant, Ford, always stopped me. “Mr. Sterling is a man of status now. He’s very busy. Please wait a little longer, Miss.” After hitting a wall several times, I gave up and started packing. I didn’t have much. Just like my ten years in the Sterling family, gone in a blink. My mother forced the Sterling family to buy me as a child bride. During the famine, with no way to survive, a twelve-year-old girl was sold for next to nothing. The Sterlings were once nobility in the capital. But a relative committed a crime, Mr. Sterling was implicated and executed, and Mrs. Sterling spent the family fortune to flee to the countryside with her young son. But a starving camel is still bigger than a horse. The Sterlings at least had a sturdy house and ate white flour buns. Hearing the Sterlings wanted a child bride, poor families from miles around came. My mother pushed through the crowd, dragging me to Mrs. Sterling. Right in front of her, she lifted my shirt, patting her chest and guaranteeing I could bear children. I wanted to die of shame. Mrs. Sterling, born into a scholarly family and kind-hearted, saw no choice but to buy me. Because of this, nine-year-old Julian hated me. He was already in school and knew many principles. He said women should be modest and have a sense of shame. My behavior was shameless. He hated that I was older, bossy, and ate three buns a meal. “I won’t marry you when I grow up. Go back home!” I was terrified. Mrs. Sterling treated me well, never skimping on food or clothes, and even gave me pocket money. When I tucked Julian in at night, she made sure I had enough blankets. I didn’t have much work. When I picked Julian up from school, I could even listen in on the lessons. Who would want to leave this paradise? Home meant beatings and gruel. I didn’t want to suffer anymore. Desperate, I spent months coaxing Julian. “Treat me as your maid, or your sister.” “When you make it big, I’ll go home and marry someone else. We’ll have nothing to do with each other. Okay?” He tormented me for months before finally agreeing. We endured for ten years. Finally, Julian achieved top honors. According to our agreement, it was time for me to go. 2 The next day was Julian’s day off. He sent someone to take me to see the new house. When Julian and I first came to the capital for his studies, we were broke and rented an old house in a poor alley. A tiny courtyard, leaking roof, peeling walls. We lived there for years. After his brilliant performance in the final exams, the Emperor gifted him a large mansion. The new house was in the affluent West District. Ford led me in. A massive estate with five courtyards, white walls, and dark tiles. Pavilions and towers artfully arranged. Flowers and trees lined the winding paths. From a distance, I heard a gentle female voice. “Julian, she’s taken care of you for years. She deserves a title, even if it’s just for her hard work.” “Otherwise, after we marry, how will she stay in the household? Although the Carter family has a rule against concubines, if you agree, I’ll ask my father.” Clara Carter. The daughter of Julian’s mentor, Grand Tutor Carter. elegant and virtuous, she grew up with Julian. If the Sterlings hadn’t fallen on hard times, they would have been married by now. Now, their families were matched in status and knew each other well. They were preparing to discuss marriage. Ford stopped at just the right spot. Close enough to hear, but hidden from view. “She” must refer to me. Julian’s aunt sighed. “That girl is good. Decent looking, gentle personality. But being a concubine isn’t a proper life.” “I thought, after you marry, we could match her with an honest servant, add some dowry, and marry her off respectably.” Clara smiled gently. “Julian is sentimental; he must be reluctant.” “But Auntie’s thought is thorough. A woman is always more respectable as a main wife.” In a few sentences, my path was chosen. Marry me off to a servant far away. It saved the Sterling family’s face and made Clara happy. Julian hesitated for a moment. That moment made Clara’s face darken instantly. Seeing this, Julian laughed, a hint of mockery in his voice. “A servant girl. Is she worth all this trouble from you?” The wind picked up, chilling the sweat on my forehead. I lowered my eyes and exhaled slowly. Servant girl. Being a servant is fine. Ten years as a servant. I repaid Mrs. Sterling’s kindness. From now on, debts paid, ties severed. 3 After Clara left, I stepped out from the shadows. Dusk fell, servants lit the lamps. The wind blew through the courtyard, making the lights flicker. Perhaps due to hard work, Julian was thinner. His face was handsome, his brow showing a new maturity. Seeing me, his expression stiffened slightly. But in an instant, he wore a warm smile. “Sister, you’re just in time. The West Courtyard is ready. See if you need anything else.” I looked into his eyes and asked directly if our agreement still stood. Julian stared at me for a long time, then laughed. “Sister, you heard Clara just now and got mad, so you’re bringing up old history, right?” He was dodging the question. “The Carter family helped me greatly. Marrying Clara is repaying a debt and fulfilling a childhood bond. Sister, don’t overthink it.” His words made me want to laugh. Julian’s reaction was within my expectations. He had been smart and perceptive since childhood, always planning before acting. Such a clever person must have already decided my fate. I knew he didn’t want me to go. First, he was new to the political scene. A reputation for being heartless wasn’t good. Second, he was used to me handling everything. Keeping me around was convenient. But that wasn’t what I wanted. I asked again. “If the agreement is void, how do you plan to place me?” Julian’s brow furrowed almost imperceptibly, his eyes darkening. The candlelight reflected in my eyes like stars. He looked for a long time, finally realizing I wasn’t joking. “Sister, our years together are different from others.” “I said I would give you a good life.” Thirteen-year-old Julian said that to me. When the local scholar took students, the tuition was thirty silver taels a year. I sold myself as a servant to the teacher in exchange for his spot. In the dead of winter, he visited me. Seeing me gnawing on a cold bun and picking at my chilblains, his eyes reddened. I teased him, asking what a good life was. He thought for a moment, eyes burning. “Sister, as long as you are with me, it’s a good life.” But now, his good life was a soaring career and a beautiful wife. He didn’t need me anymore. I shook my head gently and took a bird whistle from my pocket. Julian froze. The year I arrived at the Sterling house, Julian hated me and refused to call my name. He used this to summon me. One blow to wash his face, two to feed him, three to carry him out to play. Occasionally four blows meant I was in trouble. He was beautiful but full of tricks to drive me away. But later, this same whistle saved him. When bandits attacked our boat, the urgent blows helped me find him underwater. An old, worn safety amulet. When locusts plagued our hometown and Julian caught a fever, I kowtowed every step to the temple to get it. And an old silver hairpin. When Mrs. Sterling died and relatives tried to seize the inheritance, I stood in front of Julian, stabbing the first person who rushed up with it. These items represented the years of bond he spoke of. Years passed, and I learned to calculate too. I wanted to use this bond to buy my freedom. He still held my indentured servant contract. My chips were few. I could only gamble that he would honor our years of interdependence and let us part on good terms. Julian was moved. He finally compromised. “The agreement stands. But one thing, Sister must listen to me.” “The capital is full of talented men. With me to vet them, you will surely find a good husband.” He wanted me to marry in the capital. 4 News of my search for a husband brought matchmakers to the door. Thanks to Julian’s status, the list contained respectable families. He reviewed it carefully, circling several names for me to meet. But I met them all, and none were suitable. Though their backgrounds and looks were decent, they seemed frivolous. Seeing the delay, Clara got impatient. She visited specifically to tell me she found a good family. “Autumn, though you come from humble beginnings, you’ve been with Julian for years. You can’t delay forever.” A twenty-two-year-old spinster. Indeed, time was pressing. She said Commander Zhou of the Imperial Guard was looking for a caring wife. I stared at the portrait of the man with stern brows. Ethan Zhou. From the prestigious Zhou family of Hedong. Though a branch member, his talent was exceptional. He climbed to his position on his own. But rumors said he was cold and uninterested in women. Still unmarried at twenty-five. “Commander Zhou has no parents to serve, no siblings to raise. Once you marry, you’re the mistress of the house. You can close the door and live your life.” It was indeed a good match. High above my station. It showed how eager Clara was to marry me off. Born into a scholarly family, she was always polite and measured. She never lost her composure with me. Except when it came to love, she was assertive. From her perspective, it was understandable. I agreed.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “388173”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

The first thing I did after being reborn was to cancel my husband and his family’s household registration, effectively erasing their legal existence. In my previous life, shortly after I married my husband, my mother-in-law announced she was pregnant. A few months later, she gave birth to a girl. I had no children of my own, so I treated this little sister-in-law like my own daughter. But tragedy struck when my husband and his parents went on a trip and were all killed in a car accident. Before he died, my husband left a final wish: that I raise his little sister into adulthood. Devastated, I agreed immediately. I took her in and raised her as a single mother, never remarrying. Finally, when she turned thirty, she became the youngest female CEO in the company’s history. At her inauguration ceremony, my husband and in-laws, who had supposedly been dead for years, suddenly appeared. It turned out they had faked their deaths just to trick me into raising the child. And my “sister-in-law” wasn’t my in-laws’ child at all, but my husband’s illegitimate daughter with his first love. “I didn’t expect you to raise my daughter so well. Now that I’m back, you, the outsider, can leave.” Enraged, I rushed forward to demand justice, only to be pushed down the stairs by my husband. The girl I had raised with my own hands watched coldly, showing no hesitation in returning to her “real” family. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day of the car accident. 1 “Hello, is this the family of Mr. Mark Reynolds? Your family members have been in a car accident and are being resuscitated at our hospital. Please come immediately.” A familiar voice came from the phone. My heart clenched, disbelief washing over me. “Hello? Hello? Can you hear me? Mrs. Reynolds, your husband and his parents were in a car accident. You need to come to the hospital now!” The person on the other end urged, anxious at my silence. I looked at the phone, finally confirming it—I had been reborn. “I’m not. You have the wrong number.” I calmed myself and spoke coldly. The person on the other end choked on their words, tried to say something, but then hung up. I let out a breath. In my past life, hearing this news sent me rushing to the hospital, only to find my in-laws covered in white sheets and my husband, Mark, clinging to his last breath. Now I realize, his “last breath” act was just to deliver his final wish, binding me to widowhood forever. Just as memories of my past life flooded back, a car screeched to a halt beside me. My parents jumped out. “What are you doing? Something happened to your family, don’t you know? Get in the car, we’re going to the hospital!” Mark had a backup plan. Even if I didn’t go, he would contact my parents to ensure his scheme worked. It seemed I had to go. I feigned shock. “You got a call too? Could it be a scam? How could a whole family of three get into an accident at the same time?” My parents, frantic a moment ago, paused. Right. What are the odds of a whole family getting into an accident simultaneously? That would be incredibly unlucky. I thought for a moment and said, “How about this? You guys go home first. I’ll go to the hospital and check. If it’s true, I’ll call you.” My parents nodded, finding my logic sound. Relieved, they gave me a few instructions and left. I hailed a taxi to the hospital. As soon as I entered, a nurse grabbed my arm. “You’re finally here! The patients are fading fast. Go in quickly, say whatever you need to say!” I walked in. Three beds. Two covered in white sheets—my in-laws. On the third lay a weak-looking Mark. Seeing me, his expression turned annoyed. “Why are you so late? I almost didn’t make it.” “Honey, are you okay? Mom and Dad…” 2 I didn’t play along. Instead, I turned to lift the sheets covering my in-laws, wanting to see if they were truly dead. Mark immediately stopped me, terrified I’d discover their fake deaths. “Don’t touch them! Mom and Dad are gone. You, their daughter-in-law, didn’t even see them one last time. Are you going to disturb their peace now?” The nurse who had found me outside also stepped in, blocking my way. “Exactly. I called you so many times, and you ignored them. Now you want to disturb the deceased? You are heartless.” Mark raised a hand to stop the nurse, coughing weakly. “It’s too late for that now.” “Sarah, I only have one worry left. Can you promise me?” “After I’m gone, my only sister, Lily, will be alone in this world. You are her only family left. You must raise her. As her sister-in-law, it’s your responsibility!” Hearing his commanding tone, I rolled my eyes internally. In my last life, just months after marrying Mark, his mother back in their hometown suddenly announced she was eight months pregnant and about to give birth. Though angry, it was too late for an abortion. I had to accept this little sister-in-law. Later, the accident happened. Mark left his final wish, asking me to care for Lily as my own daughter. Grief-stricken and confused, I agreed immediately. With a child in tow, remarriage was off the table. I focused everything on Lily. I treated her like my own, giving her the best of everything, even depleting my savings. When she got sick and needed expensive treatment, I borrowed from loan sharks. To repay them, I worked day and night, sleeping only three or four hours. Luckily, Lily was capable. Under my guidance, she got into a top university, joined a multinational company, and became a CEO before thirty. At her inauguration, the “dead” Reynolds family resurrected, revealing it was all Mark’s plan. And Lily wasn’t my in-laws’ child, but Mark’s illegitimate daughter with his first love. Calculating the timeline, he had rekindled his romance with her right after marrying me. I was furious enough to vomit blood, yet the daughter I raised called him “Dad” without hesitation, ignoring my years of sacrifice. I rushed Mark, only to be pushed down the stairs to my death. Thinking of this, I wanted to stab all three of them. Make them truly dead. “Honey, Lily is your parents’ child. What business does a sister-in-law have raising her? If people think she’s mine, it’ll ruin my future.” 3 Mark hadn’t expected me to say that. Forgetting his act, he sat bolt upright. “Sarah, are you human? I’m not even dead yet, and you’re thinking about a second spring?” “I’m your husband. Lily is my sister, your sister. You have to raise her!” I sneered. “Dream on. Once you die, we have no relationship. Your sister is an orphan. She should go to foster care.” “You dare! Is foster care a place for humans?” Seeing my cold demeanor, Mark softened his tone, pleading, “Wife, I’m dying. This is my last wish. Do you want me to die with regrets?” My eyes darted around, and I suddenly “remembered” something. “Wait a minute. Honey, what about the driver? He hit you all; shouldn’t he pay damages?” In my last life, grief blinded me to compensation. Not this time. “Driver… I don’t know. Maybe a hit-and-run. I’m dying, I can’t worry about that. I can only entrust Lily to you.” I pulled out my phone and dialed 911. “No way. Hit-and-run means jail and compensation. I’m calling the police now!” Mark panicked. A police investigation would expose their fake deaths. “Cough! Cough, cough!” He coughed violently, biting his tongue to spit blood. The nurse immediately pushed me out, snatching my phone to stop the call. As soon as I was in the hallway, Lily ran over, hugging my legs. “Auntie Sarah, Auntie Sarah.” I looked down at her. She was only two, in a princess dress, but I felt no affection. Obviously, Mark sent her to distract me. A moment later, the nurse came out. “I’m sorry, your husband has passed. My condolences.” “The driver has been found. Follow me.” She led me to an office where a middle-aged man stood holding a bank card. Since there was no accident, this man must be another actor Mark hired. Seeing me, he dropped to his knees. “I’m sorry, I fell asleep at the wheel. I hit your family. I have elderly parents and young kids, please don’t call the police!” “Good people have good karma. Miss, please, I’ll give you all my money. Please don’t call the police. I’m begging you!” This actor was dedicated. He was just doing a job, no point in making it hard for him. But it was negotiation time. I grabbed his collar, shaking him. “Give me back my husband! You ruined my family, you must go to jail!” “No amount of money will bring him back!” “This is all I have. Please, give me a way out. I really have no more money. My sick mother and kids are waiting for me!” I acted unyielding, phone ready to dial. The actor stopped me. “I’ll go sell my house right now. All the money is yours. Please let me go.” That’s more like it. I put down the phone. “One hour. Or I call the cops.” The actor left to consult Mark. Soon he returned. “There’s $50,000 in these two cards. It’s really all I have.” I wasn’t greedy. I took the cards and left with Lily. Leaving the hospital, I went straight to the records office and cancelled their household registrations. Since they wanted to play dead, I’d help them disappear completely. The Reynolds family sure had guts, dumping a child on me. Fine. I won’t disappoint them. 4 With the $50,000, my life was quite comfortable. But I wasn’t ungrateful. With money, I didn’t neglect the child’s education. I sent her to the best international schools, enrolled her in various classes, and sent her abroad for college. Fortunately, the child was capable. Top of her class domestically, holding her own against elites abroad. When she returned, I arranged a position for her in my company. In this life, with money, I had secured a place for myself. With my paving the way and her own efforts, achieving her past life’s success was easy. At the inauguration, I sat in the front row, watching my adopted daughter tearfully thank me for my support. I smiled, mentally counting down. Mark should be appearing soon. As expected, just as Lily (now named Sophia) was about to thank the most important person in her life, a familiar voice rang out from the door. “Wait! My dear daughter, shouldn’t the person you thank most be me?” We all looked. Mark and my former in-laws walked in, heads held high. Despite giving me the $50,000, they seemed to have lived well. “Sophia, remember me? I’m your dad.” Mark stepped forward, eager to claim her. Sophia frowned. “Who are you? My dad died years ago. Don’t claim relations randomly.” Mark got more excited. “Yes, I was in a car accident years ago, almost died. The doctors saved me, but I lost my memory. I just remembered recently and came to find you immediately.” “These are your grandparents. They raised you. You might not remember me, but surely you remember them.” Sophia looked confused. “Grandparents? Security! Get these crazy people out!” Seeing Sophia’s resistance, my ex-in-laws looked heartbroken, glaring at me viciously. “Sarah! How did you raise the child? We are her grandparents! How could you teach her not to recognize us?” I sneered, walking up to Mark. “Didn’t you say Sophia was your sister? How is she your daughter now?” Mark didn’t seem afraid. Instead, he looked smug. ” would you have raised her if I didn’t say that?” “I’ll tell you the truth. Sophia is my child with Jasmine. My biological daughter. I lost my memory, and Jasmine took care of me. If you know what’s good for you, get lost.” Watching his smug face, I laughed internally. He still thought I was the doormat from my past life. Sophia was an ungrateful wolf. Why would she stand with me like the Sophia on stage? “I think the one who should get lost is you. Watch your mouth when talking to my mom!” Sophia stood in front of me, glaring at Mark. “What are you to bark at my mom?” “I’m your father! Sophia, how can you not recognize me?!” He then turned to glare at me. “What did you tell my daughter?! How can she not recognize me? You vicious woman, this is my daughter! What good does ruining our relationship do you?” I rolled my eyes. “Who ruined your relationship?” “Then why doesn’t she recognize me?!” I spread my hands. “Because she’s not your daughter.”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “388172”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

My family was so poor we could barely afford to eat, yet the lottery ticket I bought on a whim won five million dollars. My brother, eyes red with rage, lunged at me, snatching the ticket, ready to tear it apart. My father, who usually doted on me, held a kitchen knife to my throat. “If you don’t rip that thing up, I’ll chop off your hand!” Even my bedridden mother, waiting for money to save her life, dragged her weak body up, screaming in terror, “Daughter, you can’t cash it in!” To stop me, they tied me up in the basement and threw in a starving wolfdog. In the end, I was mauled to death by the beast. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day I won the lottery. 1 My brother, Ethan, was holding two plain buns, smiling as he handed them to me. “Chloe, when we’re rich, I’ll take you to get your favorite beef noodles. By the way, did you win anything with that lottery ticket?” Hearing his concerned voice, I snapped back to reality. Seeing the familiar ticket in my hand, I confirmed I had been reborn. Reborn to the day I won the lottery. In my past life. I occasionally bought lottery tickets, and the whole family hoped I’d hit the jackpot one day so we could live a good life. We were poor. I had dropped out of school because we couldn’t afford tuition. Ethan was about to get married, but his girlfriend threatened to leave him if he didn’t buy a house soon. My dad, working as a security guard, accidentally damaged a luxury car and owed a huge debt. And Mom had uremia, waiting for money to extend her life. We struggled even to feed ourselves, counting every grain of rice. Yesterday, I dreamed of a set of numbers. The moment I woke up, I went to the store and bought a ticket. After the draw, I checked repeatedly and confirmed I won the first prize. Excitedly, I told Ethan, who was steaming buns in the kitchen. He took the ticket, looked closely, and his smile froze, replaced by terror. Without a word, he tried to tear it up. I snatched it back, desperate. “Ethan, once we cash this, we’ll have money! You can buy a house and get married, and Mom can get treated!” Ethan acted like he didn’t hear me, fighting me for the ticket like a madman. In the chaos, I bit his hand. He stumbled back in pain. Ethan’s eyes were bloodshot, face twisted, screaming at me, “Chloe, you are not allowed to cash it! Tear it up now!” His terrifying appearance left me frozen, trembling all over. Just then, Dad came back. Seeing Ethan cornering me, he slapped Ethan on the back of the head without a second thought. “Brat, how dare you bully your sister!” 2 Ethan pointed a trembling finger at me, his voice cracking. “She dreamed of lottery numbers and won five million dollars!” Hearing this, Dad’s anger instantly turned to horror. His eyes widened, and he rushed into the kitchen like a maniac, grabbing a kitchen knife and charging at me. “Tear up that winning ticket now, or I’ll hack you to death!” Just as the knife was about to come down, Mom rushed in and shielded me. “Are you crazy? You’re going to use a knife on our precious daughter?!” Dad sneered. “Chloe won the lottery.” “So what? Chloe has always been lucky, winning five or ten bucks all the time.” “It’s the first prize. Five million.” Mom, who was protecting me just a moment ago, turned pale as a ghost. She pushed me away violently, shaking her head frantically. “No, no!” Realizing the whole family was against me cashing the ticket, I waved my hands frantically to explain. “Dad, Mom, this money isn’t just for me! With this, Ethan can marry, Dad doesn’t need to hide from debt collectors, Mom can get surgery, and I can go back to college. It’s a lifeline from God!” But they ignored me, exchanging panicked glances. Then, Dad said, “We can’t let this girl go out anymore.” Mom’s face was dark. “I have a plan. Lock her in the basement with the wolfdog.” I stood there, numb, unable to believe my ears. I couldn’t understand why they changed so drastically after learning I won five million. We desperately needed money. This windfall should have been a huge blessing. Why did it turn out like this? Before I could figure it out, they dragged me toward the basement. I tried to run but Ethan grabbed me. I cried and begged them to let me go, even offering to give them the ticket if they didn’t trust me. 3 However, they turned a deaf ear to my pleas and shoved me into the dark, stinking basement. They gave me no food or water and threw in a starving wolfdog. Everyone knew I was terrified of dogs after being bitten by a stray as a child. Seeing the wolfdog, I collapsed in fear, pounding on the door, screaming for them to let me out. But no one answered. The dog lunged, tearing a chunk of flesh from my thigh. The smell of blood filled my nose, and I passed out from the pain. The next morning, my parents and brother came to see me. Mom smiled and asked, “Chloe, hungry? Mom steamed buns for you.” I sneered, unable to understand how she could pretend nothing happened. I screamed, “Why? Why are you doing this to me?” Mom’s smile vanished, replaced by coldness. Dad’s face darkened too, eyes full of disgust. He kicked me in the chest. “Ungrateful brat.” I was in so much pain I could barely breathe. Mom’s eyes swirled with malice, a chilling smile on her lips. “Since Chloe doesn’t want buns, let’s put more dogs in to play with her.” “These beasts are trained. They know how to ‘entertain’ disobedient girls.” Then, they released several wolfdogs. The animals surrounded me, tearing me apart. My arms were ripped off. In less than a day, I died in extreme agony. Even in death, I didn’t understand why they wanted to kill me after I won five million. The terror of my past life flooded back. I clutched the ticket tightly and took a deep breath. This time, I must find out the truth. This time, I didn’t tell Ethan I won. I thought, as long as Ethan doesn’t know, nothing will happen. But unexpectedly, Ethan smiled and asked, “Chloe, I saw you buy a ticket yesterday. Did you win?” My heart skipped a beat. I smiled. “No, winning isn’t that easy.” “You’re careless. Give me the ticket, I’ll check for you. Maybe you missed something.” “No need, I checked every number. Didn’t win. Don’t you trust me?” “No, just in case you won and missed it, our family would lose a chance. It doesn’t hurt for me to look.” 4 I deliberately put the ticket in my pocket. “You just don’t trust me. I won’t show you.” Thinking I was being playful, Ethan smiled and patted my head, shoving a bun into my hand. “Fine, fine. Hungry? Eat up.” I took the bun and walked out, saying casually, “Nice weather, I’m going out for some air.” I decided to leave the house to calm my nerves. But just as I turned the corner into the alley, my heart lurched. The ticket in my pocket was gone! My blood ran cold. I sprinted back. From a distance, I saw Ethan standing at the door, pale as a sheet. The ticket that should have been in my pocket was in his hand. He raised his hand to tear it. I rushed over, snatched it back, and ran. I heard him roar behind me, “Chloe, you can’t cash it!” Until I died in my last life, I never understood why my brother, who always doted on me, changed instantly after knowing I won. The malice in his eyes was something I had never seen. Ethan chased me desperately. I wasn’t as fit as him and was soon caught. I trembled, screaming, “Help! My brother is trying to kill me!” Neighbors came out to watch. Ethan hadn’t expected this. Seeing no escape, I knelt before him, crying, “Brother, we can have a good life now. Why tear up the ticket?” Ethan gritted his teeth, whispering, “Shut up, you brat!” He tried to drag me away, but a neighbor stepped in. Mr. Zhang from next door pulled him off me. “Why are you hitting your sister?” Other neighbors chimed in. “We heard you shout about winning the lottery. That’s great news, why hit her?” “Even if she’s your sister, you can’t hit her! That’s illegal! Do it again and we’ll call the cops.” Ethan breathed heavily, veins popping, glaring at me viciously. But surrounded by people, he could do nothing. Suddenly, he smiled at something behind me. I turned confusedly and saw Dad walking over. Seeing the crowd around us, Dad frowned. He knew something was up.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “388171”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

I accidentally overheard the class beauty fighting with her boyfriend, and I was the innocent bystander caught in the crossfire. “If you think I’m dumb, go find Emma Evans then!” “You’re the top student, she’s number two. You guys are a perfect match!” I froze. For three years of high school, Liam Carter and I had firmly held the top two spots in our grade. Our names appeared side-by-side countless times on the school’s honor roll. Classmates jokingly called us the “Golden Couple” of Northwood High. In reality, we hadn’t spoken a single word to each other. Liam sounded exasperated. “I don’t even like her.” “But I’m just unhappy! Unhappy that your names are always together, unhappy that you’ll go to the same university in the future!” I had no interest in listening to a lovers’ quarrel. Just as I was about to leave, Liam’s words stopped me in my tracks. “Alright, alright. You already made her lose her Stanford early admission offer. Aren’t you satisfied?” 1 “The offer is gone, but she can still take the SATs! Am I supposed to just watch you two go to Stanford together?” “Who does Emma Evans think she is? Besides her grades, where does she even compare to me?” Even when angry, Chloe Bennett was beautiful. Liam ruffled her hair. He said dotingly, “Yes, yes. She’s not as pretty as you, her figure isn’t as good as yours, her family isn’t as rich as yours. Her personality is dull and boring. I’d be blind to like her, okay? Honestly, even if Emma ran naked after me for ten miles, I wouldn’t turn around once.” Chloe giggled, amused. “Not mad anymore?” “Mm.” Liam pulled her into his embrace, his tone suggestive. “Don’t mention breaking up again, or I’ll find plenty of ways to make you beg for mercy.” Chloe blushed at whatever thought crossed her mind. “You’re so bad~” The couple walked away, flirting. Leaving me standing there, face dark, fists clenched tight. 2 A month ago, my early admission offer to Stanford, secured through the National Math Olympiad, was revoked due to an anonymous tip. The report claimed I had disciplinary issues during school and didn’t meet the requirements for early admission. This so-called “disciplinary issue” was merely an incident in freshman year where someone in my dorm used a banned appliance, resulting in a warning for the whole room. But I remembered clearly: I wasn’t given any personal demerit. And since it wasn’t my fault to begin with, I naturally couldn’t accept this outcome. I immediately appealed to the school. The response was: Although I didn’t receive a formal punishment, the warning was recorded in my file and still affected my comprehensive evaluation. My world collapsed. No one knew how much effort I had put into walking this path. For three whole years, I spent five or six hours a day on competition prep. No entertainment, no winter or summer breaks, just endless problem sets. From dawn to dusk, tireless. The cost of each competition was nothing to others, but it was squeezed out of my meager living expenses. For the national finals in D.C., my mom used borrowed money to buy my train ticket and book a hotel, saying she believed in me. I thought I could put a perfect period on three years of hard work. But things didn’t go as planned. The admission offer I had in hand could still be canceled. And the culprit did it simply because she didn’t want me attending the same university as her boyfriend. It was absurd, laughable. Thinking back now, I finally understood why the school was so adamant, giving me zero chances. Chloe’s father was the school principal. The seeds of hatred took root and spread like wild weeds in my heart. 3 Back in the classroom, I saw Chloe chatting with a few girls. “Chloe, are you really not going to study abroad? So many people would kill for the chance.” “That’s just my dad’s idea. I’m not going. I’ve decided to only apply to schools in the Bay Area.” A girl teased, “Has to be close enough to Stanford, right?” They laughed together. Chloe’s grades were mediocre. She scored around 1200 on the SATs at best; getting into a decent state college was a toss-up. No wonder her principal father planned for her to go abroad. But alas, Chloe was hopelessly lovestruck. How could she bear four years of long-distance with Liam? I walked past them. Chloe saw me too. She rolled her eyes at me without disguising it, then turned back to laughing. I walked to my seat expressionless. As I put my bag down, a notebook accidentally fell out, landing on my desk mate’s side. “Careful. Hey, what’s this?” My desk mate exclaimed as if she’d discovered a massive secret. “Holy crap! Emma, you like Liam!” The noisy classroom instantly went silent. Everyone looked over. My desk mate held up my notebook high. “Look what’s written in here!” On the open page, hundreds of names were written densely in red ink. Each stroke was neat and elegant, showing the care put into writing them. Every single name was the same. “Liam Carter.” The whole class was in an uproar. 4 Although rumors about me and Liam occasionally floated around school, everyone knew they were just jokes. Plus, I had been a loner for three years, quiet and reserved. No one would have thought in that direction. Now that it was suddenly revealed I liked Liam, how could it not be huge gossip? The next second, everyone’s eyes fell on Chloe. Everyone wore looks of anticipation for the drama. Who didn’t know that Liam was Chloe’s trigger? Chloe exploded instantly. “Emma Evans, have you no shame? Liam is my boyfriend. What right do you have to like him?” Chloe’s clique chimed in. “If you don’t have a mirror, surely you can look in a puddle? Look at yourself!” “A toad wanting to eat swan meat.” “So the quiet ones are actually the sketchiest.” I remained calm despite their mockery. Chloe stormed over. She snatched the notebook from my desk mate and tore it to shreds. “I’m warning you, Liam is my boyfriend. If you dare harass him, don’t blame me for getting nasty!” I believed her. Once, a girl from another class gave Liam a love letter. After Chloe found out, she took people to harass the girl every day. I heard they even took nude photos of her, threatening her not to tell teachers or parents. The long-term bullying caused the girl psychological issues. Eventually, she had to drop out. But because of Chloe’s status as the principal’s daughter, no one dared to report it. Seeing I was still silent, Chloe got angrier. “I’m talking to you! Are you deaf?!” I slowly looked up, my tone sincere and innocent. “But you guys aren’t married.” “And I don’t think I’m worse than you.” “After all, besides that face, you’re useless.” Gasps echoed around me. Everyone looked at me like I was a ghost. Chloe’s eyes widened in disbelief, looking like she’d been struck by lightning.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “388170”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

My mother was a grave robber. On the day of the summer solstice, when “yang” energy is at its peak, she dragged the whole family out to dig up a tomb. We found no antiques, but we did unearth a thousand-year-old female zombie. I was sacrificed by my family as the zombie’s groom. They thought she would drain my blood and kill me. Instead, not only did I survive, but the Zombie Queen led me to a treasure trove of artifacts. My brother, envious of my newfound wealth, blew me up with homemade dynamite. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day my mother found the Zombie Queen. This time, my brother eagerly volunteered to be the groom. I laughed in the shadows. Did he really think sleeping in a coffin and having his life force drained every day was a good deal? 1 After my brother blew me up, I was reborn. Reborn on the summer solstice, the day my family pushed me to be the zombie’s groom. My mother was a grave robber. In my previous life, she found a tomb but dared not dig it due to the heavy “yin” energy. The summer solstice, with its peak “yang” energy, was the only safe time. So, she took the whole family to dig. After much effort, we broke in, only to find a single coffin. My sister rushed forward excitedly. “Mom, this coffin is made of golden nanmu wood! There must be priceless treasures inside!” Golden nanmu was reserved for royalty in ancient times. The occupant must have been wealthy. My mother nodded in agreement. Disdaining the men for potentially clashing with the energy, she and my sister pried open the lid. Inside, there were no treasures, just a breathtakingly beautiful female zombie in ancient royal attire. My mother was dumbfounded. Before the Zombie Queen could fully awaken, she hissed, “Leo, get over here.” Before I could react, my brother shoved me toward our mother. She sliced my palm with a knife and pushed me into the coffin. “Great One, we didn’t mean to disturb your rest. This boy has pure ‘yang’ energy; we offer him as an apology.” Then, they frantically sealed the coffin lid. Inside, I begged them to let me out. But the thousand-year-old Zombie Queen on top of me woke up. She grabbed my wrist, pinning me down with immense strength. I stopped breathing from fear. A cold breath touched my neck. “Are you my groom?” Her voice was unexpectedly clear and melodious. I lay there trembling, teeth chattering. “No… no, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to fall into your coffin.” “Can you let me out?” She chuckled, stroking my face. “Your blood has sealed the pact. From now on, you are mine.” Her icy finger traced my Adam’s apple. I felt like prey stared down by a venomous snake. At dawn, she finally released me. Licking her scarlet lips, she remarked, “Pure yang blood is indeed nourishing.” I became her tool for absorbing yang energy. By night, I slept in the coffin to satisfy her needs. By day, I had to fend for myself to avoid starvation. Seeing I was penniless, she gave me valuable artifacts from the tomb to sell. That’s how my brother caught me. Learning the source of my wealth, he demanded I get more from the Queen for him. When I refused, he followed me to the tomb and blew me up. What he didn’t know was that I wouldn’t have lived much longer anyway. The Zombie Queen was an evil entity. Her constant draining had left me with little life force. I thought about escaping, but she had cursed me; she could find me anywhere. Reborn, watching my brother eager to take my place… I couldn’t help but sneer. Does he really think being a zombie’s groom is a blessing? 2 Memories of my past life made me clench my fists. My mother and sister had already pushed open the coffin lid with excitement. I instinctively stepped back. The joy on their faces froze the moment they saw the Zombie Queen. Then, just like before, my mother growled at me. “Leo, get over here!” I looked at them warily, stepping back again. This time, no one was forcing me to be a groom to a corpse. I refused to live in a cramped coffin, intimate with a cold body, ever again. If they forced me, I’d smash my head against the coffin and die. Then none of them would escape. Unexpectedly, my brother rushed out from behind me. “Mom, let me be the groom!” His eyes shone with excitement. My mother’s expression changed. “Ethan, don’t be rash, come back.” Ethan urged her, “Mom, hurry, or she’ll wake up and it’ll be too late.” My mother hesitated no longer. She cut Ethan’s hand and chanted a spell. Ethan was incredibly cooperative, climbing into the coffin before she even pushed him. Inside, he waved at us. “Mom, Dad, go. I’ll be fine.” Seeing this, I knew my brother had been reborn too. I said nothing, turned around, and ran out of the tomb. 3 I was the accidental second child, unloved from birth. My grandfather wanted to drown me in the pigsty when I was born. My mother, being a grave robber, feared accumulating more bad karma would affect her luck, so she stopped him. I survived, but without love. Compared to my sweet-talking brother, I was quiet and dull. My parents disliked me even more. As long as I can remember, I did all the chores: laundry, cooking, feeding the pigs and chickens. To them, I was a workhorse, expendable. My mother often reminded me she saved me from drowning. I was grateful because of her words. Only when she sacrificed me without hesitation did I realize she never cared. Even if I owed her, my past life paid that debt. In this life, I live for myself. 4 After escaping the tomb, my dad slapped me hard, crying. “You jinx! Why didn’t you go when your mother called?” “Your brother sacrificed himself for you.” “Why didn’t you die instead?” His eyes were full of resentment. I stood there, expressionless. “Dad, Ethan didn’t sacrifice himself for me. He did it for the family.” “If you loved him so much, why didn’t you stop him and take his place as the groom?” I stared straight at him. My dad’s face turned red with anger and shame. “You little bastard, are you cursing me to die?” “Besides, I’m already married. How can I be a groom?” My mother looked at us impatiently. “Stop arguing. While the yang energy is strong, let’s go home.” My dad shut up instantly. Back home, my mother collapsed in a chair, relieved. She instructed us, “If anyone asks, say Ethan ran off with his girlfriend. Got it?” We nodded. My dad glared at me. “What are you staring at? Go boil some mugwort water for your mom and sister to wash away the bad luck!” I walked silently to the kitchen. While boiling water, I plotted how to deal with the zombie. In my past life, I lived with her for three years. She was powerful but feared sunlight, only going out in the rain. By day, she cultivated in yin-heavy spots. By night, she dragged me into the coffin to feed on my yang energy. Before I died, she had started reaching into the morning sun. I had a feeling if she continued, she would become an unstoppable monster. I had to spread the news of her existence quickly. But to my surprise, the Zombie Queen appeared at our house that very night.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “388169”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel