In this life, I didn’t accept my best friend’s invitation to check out the collection. Instead, I downed two Red Bulls and drove onto the highway in the middle of the night. When I saw the police checkpoint, I practically blew into the breathalyzer with a smile. And I walked into the back of that patrol car grinning from ear to ear. In my past life, my “best friend” invited me to visit a famous antique collector. While we were there, she slipped a priceless jade piece into my bag. When the police found it, I knelt and begged the collector to verify my innocence. But he just grabbed my sleeve, joining forces with my friend to identify me as the thief. My parents bankrupted themselves trying to save me. My fiancé’s reputation was destroyed by association. In the end, I was hacked to death by a crazed antique fanatic, my body left to rot in the wilderness. … 1 “Don’t drink and drive. Seriously, where did you learn the traffic laws?” The highway was a mess of flashing lights and sirens. Four or five patrol cars had set up a checkpoint. The officer stared at the flashing breathalyzer in his hand, shouting for me to get out of the car. I unbuckled my seatbelt and checked my phone. Sure enough, a new message popped up. [Bestie: Hey, I remember you love antiques. I met this old collector recently. Wanna come check out his stuff?] The exact same text message as my last life. My heart skipped a beat, my body trembling involuntarily. “Hey, you drunk or something? Can’t move?” Just as the officer was about to call for backup to help me out, I snapped back to reality and practically skipped into the patrol car. “Another crazy one.” “Must be out of her mind. Who looks happy about getting arrested?” Inside the car, a few other drunk detainees looked at me like I was insane. I ignored them, grinning so wide it hurt. At the hospital, the nurse prepared to draw blood for the alcohol test. She kept glancing up at me, sensing something was off. “Chloe! Are you okay?” “Baby, the police said you were drunk driving. Is it true?” The door burst open. My fiancé and my parents rushed in, faces etched with panic. “Who are you people? You can’t just barge in here!” “We’re here for Chloe Li! If there’s a problem, talk to us, don’t scare her!” My dad stood in front like a shield, while my mom and fiancé rushed to my side. Seeing their familiar faces, tears stung my eyes. It was okay. I was in time. In this life, I wouldn’t let my parents age overnight from worry. I wouldn’t let them lose everything for me. And I wouldn’t let my fiancé be dragged through the mud, abandoned by everyone because of me. During the questioning, the nurse kept eyeing me, and the officer grew suspicious. “You haven’t actually been drinking, have you?” A chill ran down my spine. The warmth of seeing my family vanished, replaced by panic. I didn’t know how he figured it out, so I forced a difficult smile. Like every drunk driver in denial, I lied through my teeth: “Haha, of course not. I don’t know why the breathalyzer malfunctioned.” Thankfully, he didn’t press further, just nodded and moved on to the others. I let out a shaky breath. My phone buzzed again. It was a voice message from my best friend, Sarah: “Are you asleep? Why aren’t you replying? I already booked the visit for tomorrow morning at nine. Don’t be late!” 2 In my past life, the morning after Sarah sent that invite, we walked into the collector’s estate. Not long after, she disappeared. When I left around noon and walked back to my own house, I found it surrounded by police. “It’s her! She stole Mr. Zou’s jade bracelet!” Before I could even process what was happening, Sarah jumped out of a police car and pinned me down. “She stole a national treasure? She doesn’t look like a good person!” “I heard it was a Tang Dynasty Empress’s bracelet, worth a fortune. Greedy girl!” “Scum. People like her should just die!” The accusations swirled around me, and I finally realized something was terribly wrong. In my panic, I saw the collector, Mr. Zou, in the crowd. I knelt, sobbing, begging him to clear my name. But the kindly old man frowned, grabbed my sleeve, and cursed: “Shameless! Stealing a national treasure I was about to donate to a museum! I let you into my home out of kindness, and this is how you repay me?” With Sarah and the collector testifying against me, and the bracelet inexplicably in my bag, my defense crumbled. My family and fiancé were ruined, treated like pariahs. And I died a gruesome death before I could even stand trial. The pain and blood of my past life were scars on my soul, feeding a burning hatred. In this life, I stood directly under the surveillance cameras. Between the video footage and my blood test, I had a double layer of protection. Let’s see who can frame me now! After the blood draw, I slept on the hospital bench. It was hard and cold, but I slept peacefully. When I woke up, the nurse announced my blood alcohol level was zero. The officer let me go. It was already noon. I had perfectly missed the window for Sarah to frame me. Just to be safe, I shamelessly asked the officer for a ride home, claiming my car was still impounded. As I got off the police motorcycle, a swarm of officers waiting at my apartment surrounded me. Sarah led the charge, grabbing my hands with tear-filled eyes. “Chloe! We agreed to just look at the collection this morning! Why did you have to steal?” My eyes widened in shock. Even the officer next to me was stunned. I had been at the hospital since last night. How could she still try to pin this on me? I frowned. “I was detained for suspected drunk driving last night, I’ve been…” Hearing this, Sarah got even more agitated, cutting me off: “Drunk driving? Oh my god, Chloe, what have you done? Alcohol isn’t an excuse for stealing national treasures!” A crowd of onlookers gathered, incited by Sarah’s words. My explanations were drowned out by the noise. Within a minute, I was being pinched and shoved by unseen hands in the crowd. My arms were already bruising. The police noticed something was wrong and moved to disperse the mob. I finally caught my breath and glared at Sarah. “I didn’t drink, and I didn’t steal any national treasure! Can we talk about evidence?” Sarah’s face darkened for a split second before she put on a worried mask again, pleading to the officers nearby: “Officer, you heard her. My friend did this because she was drunk. She’s still not thinking clearly.” “She didn’t steal it on purpose. Please, go easy on her!” Just as Sarah tried to drag me toward a police car, the traffic cop who drove me home stepped in. He blocked her path, shielding me. 3 “This lady has been in the hospital since last night. I just brought her back.” “You say she stole something? Where’s the proof?” Faced with the officer’s question, Sarah snapped without thinking: “Who are you? I’m assisting an investigation. unrelated personnel should stay out of this.” “He’s a police officer,” I said slowly. Sarah’s face changed instantly. “From the moment I was suspected of drunk driving last night until now, I have been under his supervision!” The crowd gasped. The detectives immediately verified the traffic cop’s ID. Then, they turned to Sarah with stern expressions. Why would she accuse someone with an ironclad alibi? Sarah hadn’t expected this twist. Her mouth opened and closed, but no sound came out. Just then, the collector, Mr. Zou, marched over. He pointed a shaking finger at my nose. “I can prove she’s the thief!” Seeing the man who indirectly caused my death again, anger flared in my chest. In my last life, I had at least entered his house. I could excuse his accusation as an old man’s mistake. But in this life, we hadn’t even met. How dare he accuse me? I gritted my teeth. “Old man, you can eat the wrong food, but you can’t say the wrong words! We’ve never met. Why are you framing me?” I stared at him, looking for a crack in his conviction. Mr. Zou grabbed my left arm. “I have a habit. Whenever a guest enters my collection room, I apply a strip of special ink to the cabinet doors.” “I mixed the color myself. I’d recognize it anywhere!” With that, he yanked up my sleeve. A dark brown stain was clearly visible on my forearm! 4 The crowd froze. Even I was stunned speechless. I hadn’t gone to his house in this life. I checked my clothes before coming home. How could this be here? “You steal petty things all the time, fine. But today you stole a treasure and bribed someone to lie for you? Too far!” Sarah seized the moment to blacken my name, malice dripping from her eyes. Then, she pulled a laptop from her bag, claiming she had surveillance footage to submit as evidence. In the video, at 9:30 AM that morning, a short-haired girl walked into the estate with Sarah. Her build, her outfit, even her hair clip—identical to mine. The crowd erupted: “That’s her!” “You can’t see the face clearly, but it’s obvious. She’s got some nerve, ignoring the cameras like that!” “Kids these days are fearless. She needs ten years in prison to learn a lesson!” Insults rained down on me. Someone kicked me from behind, the pain nearly making me black out. I fought through the pain, gasping for air as I shouted: “I have video evidence too!” I looked at the traffic cop. He pulled the body cam footage from his motorcycle. “My ID is verified. It can’t be faked.” “Ms. Li has been recorded by police body cams and hospital surveillance since she left the hospital. She has a perfect alibi.” Two videos pointing to two completely different truths. The crowd was confused. The police and Mr. Zou were confused. One officer started calling the traffic division and the hospital to verify my movements. Mr. Zou muttered to himself, insisting he couldn’t mistake his own ink. Under the scrutiny of the crowd, Sarah couldn’t maintain her fake concern anymore. She glared at me with pure hatred. I smiled coldly back at her. “Disappointed that the police verification will clear my name?” Unexpectedly, Sarah smirked. “What are you saying? We’re best friends. If you didn’t steal it, of course I’m happy.” Then, catching me off guard, she lunged at me, reaching for the fanny pack at my waist. She ripped open the zipper and screamed: “Officer! The treasure is in her bag! Grab her—” Her voice cut off abruptly. She stared at me in disbelief. “You… you…” I looked down at her shocked face and smiled. “Oh? What’s wrong?”

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My husband wanted to run off with his mistress, so he faked a “divorce,” staged his own death, and disappeared abroad. I didn’t cry. I didn’t scream. I just quietly filed for his death certificate and erased him from the registry. Years later, his parents gave me all their money and property. That’s when he came back, desperate to claim his inheritance. He knelt before his parents, begging: “Mom, Dad, I’m your son! I’m your only heir!” Chapter 1 It started with a Reddit post I saw late one night. u/Throwaway123: “I’ve got a girl on the side and want to leave my boring wife. How do I get her to agree to a divorce without her making a fuss?” The top comment read: “Easy. Fake a job transfer abroad that requires you to be ‘single’ for visa reasons. Convince her it’s just a paper divorce. You leave, live it up with your girl, and your wife stays home taking care of your aging parents. Win-win.” I felt sick reading it. I never expected that the very next day, my husband, Mark, would come home and say: “Honey, the company is offering me a huge opportunity abroad. But there’s a catch—the visa requires proof of single status.” “We need to get a fake divorce.” The moment Mark said those words, my mind flashed back to that Reddit thread. I swallowed the disgust rising in my throat and decided to test him. “Do you have to go? The kids are small, and your parents haven’t been well…” “I have to!” He cut me off sharply. Realizing he sounded too aggressive, he softened his tone. “This is a once-in-a-lifetime chance. Two years abroad, and I come back as a manager. My salary will double. Honey, I’m doing this for us, for our family. You support me, right?” When I didn’t answer immediately, he grabbed my hand, looking deeply into my eyes. “It’s just a piece of paper. The company insists single employees are more ‘stable’ for overseas assignments. We’ll be divorced legally, but nothing changes between us. I’ll send my paycheck home every month.” “The moment I’m back, we’ll remarry. You have to trust me.” Trust him? I’d sooner trust a snake. There is no such thing as a “fake” divorce. Once that judge signs the decree, it’s done. Looking at his earnest face, whatever trust I had left for him evaporated. I didn’t need to hear anymore. I nodded. “Okay, Mark. Whatever you say.” Mark’s face lit up. “Great. No time to lose. Let’s file tomorrow.” Chapter 2 That night, after Mark fell asleep, I tried to check his phone to see who the mistress was. But he was guarding it like a dragon, sleeping with it tucked under his pillow. So, I opened Reddit instead. u/Throwaway123 had updated. “Convinced the old ball and chain to sign the papers. The plan is perfect: once I’m abroad, I’ll fake my death and go no-contact. No need to send money home. In a few years, when my parents kick the bucket and the kid is grown, I’ll come back and collect the inheritance.” The comments were full of praise, calling him a genius. I couldn’t help myself. I created a burner account and commented: “Aren’t you afraid of karma?” The replies came fast and furious. “Karma? Being stuck with a boring wife is the real karma.” “Bro, you clearly aren’t married. Domestic flowers never smell as sweet as the wild ones.” Reading the toxic filth, I deleted my comment in disgust. Mark slept soundly beside me, blowing little bubbles as he snored. The more I looked at him, the more I hated him. I reached out and slapped him across the face. He jolted awake. Before he could react, I hugged him tight. “Honey! Did you have a nightmare? It’s okay, I’m here.” He touched his cheek, confused, muttered something, and was back to snoring in seconds. Go ahead, I thought, grinding my teeth. Leave. Just don’t expect to ever come back. Chapter 3 The next day, Mark practically dragged me to the courthouse. There was a mandatory waiting period, and during that month, Mark was the model husband. He cooked, cleaned, and doted on me, terrifyingly afraid I’d change my mind. Even his parents were impressed. Our four-year-old daughter, Lily, said, “Mommy, Daddy is so nice to you. I want a husband like Daddy when I grow up.” She was too young to see the filth behind the mask. It’s okay. I’ll teach her. Words are cheap. Only tangible assets are real. When the divorce decree finally arrived, Mark snapped a photo of it immediately. u/Throwaway123: “Free at last!” He came home and started packing. He told his parents and Lily that the company was sending him on a long assignment. No one else knew we were divorced. When he left, he hugged me at the door, unable to hide his grin. “Honey, take care of Mom and Dad for me. When I get back, we’re going to live the good life.” I waved goodbye, looking every bit the reluctant wife. When I got back to our room, I checked our joint account. Empty. He had taken the $30,000 we had saved. I reached for the phone to scream at him, then stopped. That account was just a decoy. Before he started cheating, Mark handed over his paycheck, but I had always been careful. If groceries cost $200, I told him they were $500. If utilities were $150, I said $300. I skimmed off the top for years. The joint account was for show. My real savings were in a separate account only I knew about. Plus the dowry from my parents and gifts from his parents over the years… I had over $100,000 stashed away. A woman has to look out for herself. After Mark left, life went on. His last Reddit update came at the end of the month. u/Throwaway123: “Bros, starting my new life of freedom. Living the dream for you all!” Attached was a photo of two hands intertwined against a sunset. The IP address showed he was overseas. Chapter 4 I pretended to know nothing and continued caring for Lily and his parents. Two days later, my father-in-law fell. A brain hemorrhage landed him in the ICU. My mother-in-law cried as she called Mark. Thirty calls, no answer. She went to his company, only to be told there was no overseas assignment. Mark had resigned a month ago. Mark was gone. His mother panicked, threatening to call the police. That’s when I started to cry. “Mom, what do I do? I think Mark lied to me.” I “confessed” about the fake divorce. “Mom,” I sobbed, “He took all the money in the joint account. Do you think he has someone else? Did he trick me into a divorce just to run away with her?” “He took everything! Dad needs surgery money, what are we going to do?” “That animal!” My mother-in-law screamed, stomping her foot before fainting from the shock. I suppressed a smirk and paid the hospital bills from my secret stash. The surgery was successful. When my mother-in-law woke up, I was sitting by her bed, eyes red from onion fumes. “Mom, don’t worry. I’m here.” She looked at my wrist. The heavy gold bangle she gave me for my wedding was gone. “Sarah, where’s your bracelet?” I pulled my hand back, lowering my head to hide my “sadness,” revealing my bare neck where my necklace used to be. “Dad needed the surgery. Mark took all the cash, so I… I sold my jewelry. It should cover us for a while.” “Mom, don’t worry. Mark might be heartless, but you and Dad have always been good to me. I won’t abandon you.” She burst into tears, gripping my hand. “Sarah, Mark wronged you. It’s our fault for raising such a bastard.” “From now on, you are our own daughter. As far as we’re concerned, Mark is dead.” Inside, I was doing a victory dance. Outwardly, I wiped a tear. “Mom, don’t say that. You’ve always been like real parents to me.”

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On a variety show, I drew a question left by my ex-husband, a famous actor, from two years ago. “Did you end up with your first love?” I smiled and answered, “Yes, we’re getting married next month.” On stage, my ex-husband jerked his head up, staring at me in shock. He only just realized. He wasn’t my first love. 1 It’s been two years since the divorce, and this is the first time I’ve shared a stage with Lucas. We had a secret marriage. Even our divorce was quiet. On the livestream, comments were flooding in, shipping Lucas and his “first love,” Bella, hoping for a rekindled romance. The host, holding a microphone, teased them, “Can you tell us how your first love made you feel?” The camera deliberately focused on Bella. Lucas glanced at her tenderly, his voice slightly husky, “First love is… the moment she appears, everyone else fades away.” As soon as he finished speaking. The camera accidentally swept over my face. Lucas froze, his eyes darkening. I looked away, digging my nails into my palm until it hurt. In the next interactive segment, the host asked us to draw notes left by past guests from a box and answer the questions. I unfolded the note. The handwriting was very familiar. While I was dazed, the host read the question for me, “Did you end up with your first love?” Seeing the signature, she exclaimed excitedly, “Wow, what a coincidence! It’s a note left by Lucas two years ago.” Two years ago. When we hadn’t divorced yet. Knowing Bella was returning to the country, Lucas was lost in thought. Even on the show, he instinctively asked a question related to her. First love, again. Those two words pierced my heart like a knife. Hiding the emotions in my eyes, I answered calmly, “Yes, we’re getting married next month.” The cup near Lucas’s hand suddenly crashed to the floor. He looked up sharply, staring at me, his face slightly pale. I smiled and added, “He was my first love when I was seventeen. We love each other very much.” Blessings and congratulations erupted on set. The next second, the camera turned away. My gaze froze. My blood stopped flowing. Only my heart pounded wildly in my chest. The first love I mentioned was sitting not far away. He listened quietly to this lie. Suddenly, he stood up and walked over slowly. Under the spotlight, the cold beauty mark on the side of his nose was vivid and clear. The host introduced him cooperatively, “Let’s welcome our next guest—” All sounds gradually faded from my ears. He extended his hand to me, strange yet familiar. “Hello, I’m Ethan.” I shook his warm hand. A brief touch, then separation. 2 In the lounge, I sat on the sofa, dazed for a long time. My manager, Vivian, poked my forehead angrily, “Fabricating marriage news all of a sudden, are you crazy?!” She anxiously checked the trending topics, “I’ll handle the PR. You’re competing for Best Actress next month, consider this pre-hype.” I coughed violently, swallowing the pills in my palm. Bitter enough to make me frown. Vivian handed me water with a pained expression, “This injury is all Bella’s fault. What bad luck. If I knew, we wouldn’t have taken this job.” I calmed my breathing and lowered my eyes, “It’s okay. This show has great traffic, we can’t miss it.” When I first entered the industry, I wasn’t famous. Later, there was a scene where Bella couldn’t ride a horse. The director saw that I looked somewhat like her, so he made me her stunt double. I filmed under the scorching sun for days. My inner thighs were rubbed raw and bloody, so painful I trembled when walking. On the day we finished shooting, Bella stared at me with malice, “Don’t covet things that don’t belong to you, understand?” She whipped the horse when no one was looking. I fell off instantly, sustaining a permanent back injury. I was in a coma for three days. Back then, I thought she meant the role. Until I found the letters Lucas wrote to her in the study. A thick stack. Each one filled with passionate love. [If the person I marry isn’t you, then it doesn’t matter who it is. I might as well pick someone who looks like you.] The more I read, the paler I became. The scripts I was offered, the roles I auditioned for and won, the endorsements I negotiated… The reason they were conveniently snatched by Bella time and time again was because Lucas was pulling strings for her. During the three days I was in a coma from the fall. He was begging the director to change the script so Bella could continue acting. I didn’t even get paid. The worst part was, all my scenes were cut. In showbiz, if you’re a nobody, you get bullied. But I wasn’t resigned. So that day, holding back tears, I fought with him. Lucas was furious, “Who allowed you to touch those letters? Bella is my first love. If I don’t give those resources to her, should I give them to you? Do you deserve them?” He flipped the table. Dishes shattered all over the floor. A mess, nothing spared. Just like our marriage that had come to an end. 3 Vivian went out to take a call and didn’t return for a long time. There was a knock on the lounge door. I stood up, the smile freezing on my lips. Lucas stood outside, his face dark, “Let’s talk.” Without waiting for my answer, he walked straight in, sat on the sofa, and stared at me coldly. “I advise you to behave yourself.” I turned my head in surprise. He continued on his own, “Fabricating a nonexistent first love just to anger me? Jane, you’re quite the actress.” Lucas always thought he was my first love. After we got married, one night sitting by the sea. He suddenly leaned in to kiss me. Amidst the sound of waves, I gripped the hem of his shirt, my body stiff. Lucas looked down at my inexperienced reaction, “Jane, have you never dated? Never kissed anyone?” I closed my eyes, “No.” He chuckled softly, “Then I’m your first love.” Lucas didn’t know. That day when I closed my eyes, my heart was filled with scenes of kissing Ethan. On the day of my first kiss, snow was falling on the Christmas streets of London. Ethan lifted me onto the windowsill with one arm and kissed me almost frantically. Deep, yet gentle. My eyelashes fluttered, and when I looked up, I saw it. A bunch of mistletoe hung above our heads. Every day after that. Whenever I saw mistletoe, like Pavlov’s dog, I would fall into the memory of that confusing, passionate kiss. 4 Thinking of Ethan, I zoned out again. Lucas was still rambling, “Still not over me after so long since the divorce? Can you not be so pathetic?” He was getting more and more out of line. I wasn’t angry, just said calmly, “Isn’t it more pathetic to fantasize that your ex-wife is still pining for you after so long?” These years, he’s been praised too much, his ego inflated. He stood up angrily and grabbed my wrist, “Jane, if you want to win me back, this isn’t a smart way.” I raised my hand to break free, but he held on tighter. The next second. Two crisp knocks interrupted the standoff. I hadn’t closed the door just now. Ethan was leaning there, unknown how long he’d been listening. The black hoodie highlighted his shoulders, making him look fresh and cool. He looked over. His eyes brewed with dark, intense emotions. “Excuse me, the crew is looking for Ms. Jane.” Lucas reluctantly let go of my hand. He put on a gentle facade and left. Ethan and I walked through the corridor, side by side toward the exit. The empty corridor was coincidentally quiet. A button that had come loose during the struggle suddenly rolled off my cuff. Bouncing, spinning on the floor. The crisp sound broke the silence. Like a drop of water falling into a calm lake. Rippling slightly. I bent down to pick it up, my fingertips touching Ethan’s. He instinctively grabbed my hand and returned the button. Our eyes met, I wanted to hide but lacked the strength. Ethan’s eyelashes trembled, “Jane.” Word by word, he chewed my name between his teeth. “This is the seventh year since you left.” 5 This is a lifestyle reality show. All guests have to stay in a house arranged by the program. Room allocation on the first night depends on a game. Lucas had been on the show two years ago. He knew the rules well and got the best room. But he immediately gave it to Bella, “She’s in poor health and can’t handle the cold. I’ll switch with her.” Bella turned to look at me triumphantly, “Ms. Jane, you won’t mind if I take the good room, right? Or maybe I should let you have it…” Without thinking, I knew the comments would praise her for being kind and beautiful. I refused crisply, “No need.” She grew even more smug, smiling provocatively at me, “Mr. Lucas is such a gentleman, but he didn’t consider that you’re injured too.” Ethan suddenly reached out and took my key. “Ms. Jane has a bad back, I’ll switch with you.” My mind went blank for several seconds. I mumbled a thank you. Ethan’s room had a very comfortable mattress. I lay down and stretched. Bella followed unceremoniously, pushing the door open. There were no cameras in the room, and I had already taken off my mic. She stopped pretending, her expression disdainful, “You really haunt us like a ghost, coming here just to disgust us.” “What was that look you gave Ethan just now? You don’t really think he’d be interested in you, do you?” “He’s a big investor, he wouldn’t pick up a divorced woman like you.” I listened quietly. Then mocked her indifferently, “Certainly not like you, picking up a divorced man.” Bella turned pale with anger and left the room sobbing. When others asked with concern, she wiped her tears aggrievedly, “Don’t blame Ms. Jane, she’s just in a bad mood.” Everyone in the industry is shrewd. Following the principle of not offending anyone, they offered vague comforts. Only Lucas came to interrogate me shortly after, “What did you say to her? Bella is crying now, come out and apologize!” I tried to control my expression, not letting the facial mask wrinkle. I replied indifferently, “No time to listen to dogs barking.” Then slammed the door shut.

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After pretending to be poor for three years, Julian finally decided I was worthy. He felt I was good enough to marry him. To get me to agree, he bought every billboard in South City just to apologize. Then, fireworks lit up the city for a month straight while he proposed. But in the fourth year of our marriage, he got his first young, delicate mistress. When I found out, he didn’t panic. He just arrogantly put out his cigarette, looking at me with cold indifference. “Are you sure you want to make a scene? Are the bank notifications not convincing enough?” I froze for a moment, opened my mouth, but couldn’t say a word. 1 It wasn’t until our wedding anniversary, when that young girl walked in wearing the exact same pearl necklace as me, that I understood a simple truth: you can’t live on promises. But back then, I was still naive. I tore the heavy South Sea pearl necklace from my neck. The pearls were large and lustrous. Julian’s butler once told me he bid for them personally at auctions. Maybe he bid on too many. Same size, same quality, same craftsmanship. It was impossible to ignore. I threw the broken necklace into Julian’s face. Pearls scattered everywhere, rolling onto the carpet. Julian’s face darkened slightly, but he didn’t lose his composure. He leaned back in his Italian leather chair, blowing a smoke ring casually. “Amy, are you sure you want to make a scene?” I clenched my fists, staring at his calm demeanor. Suddenly, all my strength drained away, and my heart turned to ice. The young girl was terrified by our standoff, hiding behind him like a frightened deer, tears welling up in her round eyes. He laughed at her reaction, pinching her cheek. “Look at you, so scared.” I stood there, mouth opening and closing, but no sound came out. Just bitterness. His question was so certain. I had no capital to make a scene. Three years ago, when my dad was diagnosed with lung cancer, my dependence on Julian grew, and our relationship became unbalanced. After all, I relied on him for everything. He arranged the hospital, the doctors, the surgery fees, the recovery costs. Everything. Including my current comfortable life. So he didn’t even bother hiding his little mistress from me. Even if I found out, what could I do? 2 I don’t remember how I left the party. I only remember my legs feeling like lead, every step a struggle. The delicate student girlfriend ran after me, looking anxious. She told me not to be angry, that Julian was just joking, that I shouldn’t take it seriously. Joking? She was on his arm, wearing the same necklace as his wife, at my anniversary party, and she called it a joke. I felt suffocated, hating myself for compromising. Just four years of marriage, and I was groveling under Julian’s wealth and power. I didn’t want to engage with her. I threw off her hand. I didn’t use much force. But she fell. Her pale knees scraped against the ground, bleeding instantly. Before I could react, I was shoved hard. “Amy, are you done?” Julian helped her up tenderly. I stumbled back, stepping on the loose pearls on the carpet, and crashed into the champagne tower. The tower, as tall as a man, collapsed on top of me. My dress was soaked in golden liquid. I tried to get up, slipping on pearls and glass shards. Shards pierced my heels and knees. But Julian didn’t even look back. He called for a first aid kit and gently cleaned the girl’s wounds. As he led her away, he finally glanced at me. “Can you stop embarrassing yourself?” I watched them leave, him supporting her with his body, protecting her as if she were made of glass. One of his friends pulled me up, lecturing me. “Sister-in-law, men need face. You were too undignified today.” I scoffed at his self-righteousness. “Get lost.” “Pah! Ungrateful woman! Look at your age! Still acting like a princess? See who cares about you now.” Acting like a princess? They thought I was just acting like a princess back then. 3 Four years ago, when I found out Julian had been pretending to be poor, I felt humiliated. I insisted on breaking up. His friends came to persuade me then, too. “Amy, have some pity! He hasn’t eaten in days. If you ignore him, he’ll die.” “Amy, we’ve never seen Julian this serious about a woman. Everyone has defenses. Just pretend your boyfriend won the lottery!” Julian had money and power, and his friends were his lobbyists. He permeated every part of my life, turning it upside down. I ignored him, but everywhere I went, LED billboards played his apologies. “Amy, it’s all my mistake…” “Amy, please see me again!” “How much to buy back my girlfriend’s forgiveness?” … One billboard cost more than my monthly salary. It seemed sincere, but I kept remembering the three years he watched me struggle. He said he was poor, with only a mother, and wanted to study. To make ends meet, I often worked two jobs. At my worst, I was laid off and delivered food after hours. For his birthday, I delivered food for a month to buy him a new laptop. There were nights of torrential rain. I was thrown off my scooter, nearly washed into a storm drain. I limped home, only to hear him discussing with his friends how to reveal the “surprise” to me. I stood at the door, frozen, and dropped the laptop. 4 My poor boyfriend was one of the richest men in the city. The laptop I risked my life for wasn’t even worth one of his meals. It was absurd. Rich people have so many ways to have fun. Why play with ordinary people’s feelings? The details I had ignored came flooding back. No wonder he was poor but picky about food. No wonder he didn’t know how to use my cheap water heater. No wonder he couldn’t relate to my complaints about rent and prices. I was blind. 5 He apologized a thousand times. But I heard something else. “You did well. You passed my test. Now I reward you by letting you be with me. Aren’t you happy?” I hit him, bit him, kicked him, threw the laptop at him. He protected the laptop and fell down the stairs. He held the computer like a treasure, looking at me pitifully. “Amy, I’m sorry…” I didn’t want to forgive him. My bruises still hurt. He said he loved me, couldn’t leave me. Then how could he watch me suffer? How could he use my struggle as a metric for his test? Three years! We slept in the same bed for three years. How can you play with a person like that? I ignored him for months. He bought my apartment building. I was ready to leave the city. But then, an accident happened. Before I could resign, Julian’s friends found me. They said Julian, heartbroken by my refusal, agreed to go abroad for his mother. He was on a flight last night. And that flight crashed. I watched the news, mind blank. I never thought he would die. We were together for three years. Even at his “poorest,” I never thought of leaving him. How could I not love him? I just couldn’t accept the deception. I rushed to the airport, watching families waiting anxiously. My legs gave out. I squatted in the hall, crying. That’s when Julian appeared. He wiped my tears, voice trembling. “Amy… do you still want me?” I looked up. His eyes were burning. He pulled me into a tight hug. “I didn’t get on the plane, Amy. I couldn’t leave you.” “Amy, give me another chance?” “Amy, do I have to die for you to look at me again?” 6 Like the suspension bridge effect, people forgive easily in the face of death. He proposed, lighting up the city with fireworks for a month. The first year or two of marriage were happy. He was a model husband, home by ten every night. “Sorry, gotta go home. The wife is strict.” “No more drinks, the wife will get mad.” When did it change? The economic gap, especially after my dad got sick, made me dependent on him like a vine. When one person knows the other can’t leave, humanity is tested. Dad’s cancer was advanced. The imported drugs were astronomical for me. I relied on Julian. Before marriage, I had a good job. Julian didn’t stop me at first. But after Dad got sick: “Mrs. Sterling working for peanuts? It’s embarrassing.” I felt uncomfortable but submitted, handing in my resignation. Leaving the Sterling villa, I went to the hospital. Dad was suffering from side effects. Rash, pneumonia. I heard him coughing from the hallway. When I entered, he held it in, looking at me. I felt a pang of sorrow seeing him so frail. I had changed clothes, but the cuts on my knees and arms still hurt. Dad noticed immediately. “Amy, what happened?” “Nothing, just fell.” He pulled up my sleeve, revealing the cuts. “How did you fall like this?” “Tripped on gravel.” Dad sighed, pulling out ointment. “Still so clumsy.” I was afraid to speak, afraid he’d sense something wrong. But he knew. “Amy, are you hiding something? Is Julian treating you well?” “Yes! You know how much effort he put into marrying me.” “Amy, people change. Relying too much on someone leads to disrespect.” “If possible, I hope you can find a job. Have your own ground to stand on.” “I’m looking. Once Dad gets better, I’ll work.” “Amy, everyone dies. Don’t be stubborn. Don’t let Julian look down on you because of me.” “No, Julian is good.” Just then, the hospital TV flashed news about Julian. Fireworks again. But this time, not for me. A young girl, smiling shyly next to him. “Sterling CEO’s New Love.” Dad coughed violently, blood on the sheets. I panicked. He grabbed me. “Amy, what is this?”

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I am a hitman. During a mission, my partner—my ride-or-die—shot me in the head. Over my corpse, he whispered, “I’m sorry. The target is my wife. To protect her, I had to kill you.” My soul was utterly speechless. Bro, do you not have a mouth? If it’s your wife, couldn’t you just say so? We could have just skipped the job! Was it necessary to blow my brains out?! When I opened my eyes again, I was back three minutes before the shot. 1 It was a sunny morning. My partner and I were prone on a secluded rooftop, butts in the air, staring intently at a black sedan parked in front of the hospital across the street. Inside sat our target. Moments later, the car door opened. A slender, pale leg extended out, stepping onto the pavement with delicate grace. The moment her foot touched the ground, I sprang up and shouted, “Hey! Isn’t that your wife?” Startled, my partner flinched, nearly misfiring. He turned his head, his eyes screaming interrogation: She only showed half a leg! Which eye told you that’s my wife? I smiled but said nothing. Damn it, if I didn’t yell fast enough, what if you popped me again? I turned back. The woman had exited the car. Soft, curly hair framing gentle, beautiful features. A breathtaking beauty. My partner stared at his wife, his face melting into happiness. But before we could say hello, a refined-looking man got out of the car. The man hugged the wife, tenderly stroking her belly. They looked like the perfect couple, radiating the glow of expectant parents. My greeting stuck in my throat. I didn’t dare make a sound. But my partner was different. Not only did he dare to speak, he dared to shoot. Bang! He fired. The bullet hit the man right between the eyes. Bodyguards spotted us instantly and swarmed. My partner gazed at his screaming wife from afar, gave a tragic smile, and turned the gun on himself. Bang! He ate the bullet. He killed a guy, exposed our position, and then left me behind to commit suicide!!! The bodyguards arrived fast. Their batons hurt like hell. Before I was beaten to death, my only thought was: Never team up with an idiot. Fuck! 2 Yes, I respawned again. Same sunny morning, same rooftop corner, same black car. Practice makes perfect. This time, I got smart. The moment the wife stepped out, I leaped up. “Whoa! Isn’t that your wife?” “Whoa! Is your wife pregnant?” “Whoa! Does your wife have a… brother?” I worded it carefully. “Brother” could be a real brother, a cousin, a neighbor, or a sugar daddy. We’re adults; no need to be too specific. Before my partner could react, I dragged him downstairs and sprinted to the wife. The wife panicked. The refined man panicked too. The man forced himself to be calm, extending a hand. “Hello, I’m… Mr. King. I’m Lily’s… cousin.” I sighed internally. An honest man. These days, few people admit to being the ‘neighbor Mr. King’. My partner shook his hand, then turned to his wife. “Why are you at the hospital?” The wife instinctively covered her lower abdomen. “I… I’m pregnant…” She glanced at Cousin King. Cousin King reached out, shielding her. “Lily didn’t want to disturb your work, so she asked me to accompany her for the checkup.” My idiot partner bought it completely, his face lighting up with ecstasy. “Really? Lily, we’re having a baby!” I stood there counting on my fingers. “Mrs. Partner, how far along?” Her face paled. “Two… two months.” Great. Three months ago, my partner and I took a job overseas. We just got back today. He hasn’t even stepped through his front door, and he’s celebrating a two-month pregnancy. Could I say anything? No! Say it, and I eat a bullet! I patted my partner. “Old Xie, being a dad is great news. Smile!” He grinned like a blooming flower. After laughing enough, he remembered business. He asked his wife, “Did you offend anyone recently?” After all, we’re pros. Our jobs involve blood. Even if my partner is an idiot, anyone hiring us has a serious grudge. The wife looked confused. My partner understood. He turned to Mr. King. “Then they’re after you. Don’t worry, Cousin. With me here, no one will touch a hair on your head!” Me: Emmmmm… Great. I wanted to applaud. I wanted to sing. But before I could clap, a gunshot rang out. Pain exploded in my back. Strength drained from my body instantly. Before I hit the ground, I saw our Boss in the corner. He was wiping his gun, face twisted in rage. “I hate it when employees slack off!” 3 Do the job, get killed by partner. Don’t do the job, get killed by Boss. What to do? Respawning again, I threw my gear on the ground and went berserk. “Fuck this stupid mission! I quit!” Under my partner’s confused gaze, I leaped down the building, found the Boss’s hiding spot, dragged him out, and started kicking him. “No health insurance! Peeping on us! Shooting me! Everyone pointing guns at me! I died three times today, you know? I need a raise, you hear me?!” The Boss dodged clumsily. “Raise my ass! Health insurance? If I paid it, would you dare take it? You want to go to jail faster…” My partner came to break it up. I slapped both of them. “Break it up? Break your mom! We’re life-and-death partners, remember? You call the guy cucking you ‘brother’ and sacrifice your sworn brother?” Just then, the black car stopped. The wife got out and saw the three of us brawling. She screamed, panic all over her face. Seeing her, my anger, which had just subsided, flared up three stories high! I snapped! Why do I have to meet this woman while I’m working? Can’t you just be a normal wife? Why do you need a side piece? Fine, have a side piece, but why let my idiot partner see it?! I died three times today, and two and a half were thanks to you!!! I’d had enough! I dragged Mr. King out of the car and pointed at his nose. “Cousin? You’re probably the baby daddy!” “Is the wife’s belly your work?” “Is the green hat on my partner’s head your gift?” Mr. King’s eyes dodged. He awkwardly admitted, “How… how did you know?” He shielded the wife. “Blame me if you must. I couldn’t control my feelings…” My partner looked like he’d been struck by lightning. The wife broke down. She covered her face, crying softly. “I’m sorry. I just made a mistake that all women make.” “I love you so much, but I love him too. I didn’t know how to choose…” Oh, so you just hit “Select All”? Her eyes were swollen from crying. Mr. King looked heartbroken. He supported her and said resolutely to my partner, “If you have anger, take it out on me. Lily is innocent!” My partner ignored him. He just stared at his wife and whispered, “Lily, do you really love him?” The wife looked up with teary eyes, tragic and beautiful. “Yes, I love him. But I love you too.” She asked, “Are you willing to forgive me?” My partner froze for a moment, pushed Mr. King aside, and pulled his wife into his arms. “How could I blame you? As long as you come back…” I was dumbfounded. My god, my idiot partner is a legendary simp. Sorry I yelled earlier. You are now the person I respect most! I looked at the sky. I should be able to survive this shift now. But before I could leave, familiar pain hit my back. 4 I thought I died again. As everyone knows, dying a lot makes you desensitized. So I habitually fell to the ground. After a while, a college kid leaned over fearfully. “I just threw a pebble at you. Are you dying?” I lay there, not wanting to get up. “Who are you?” The kid whispered, “I’m the client for this mission. I want to cancel. Can I?” Before I could nod, I heard my cheapskate Boss roaring: “Brian! The mission was to kill your ex-boyfriend! You’re dating men behind my back???” I was confused. What does the client’s dating life have to do with you? Boss, you manage too much. Surprisingly, the kid gasped, “Dad?” He looked at me, looked at his dad, thought about the hit he ordered, and was shocked. “Dad, didn’t you say you were in waste recycling?” “Do you know I’m applying for a government job?” “I passed the written and interview stages, but failed the background check. I thought it was rigged.” “With your background, passing would be a miracle!!” The Boss was furious. “You have the nerve to lecture me? You always said you were straight! Since when do straight guys date men?” “I knew it!! I found stockings in your room and you said they were your partner’s! I thought you had a cute girlfriend! Turns out it’s a six-foot cute girlfriend with a mustache!” “Tell me the truth, who’s the top?” Brian stammered, “I am…” “Bullshit!” The Boss spat. “You think I don’t know anything? In manga, tops have square jaws! Your chin is sharp enough to plow a field!!” I listened with a headache. What is happening? Brian covered his face, his slim frame trembling in the wind like a little white flower. He sobbed, “Dad, sorry for lying, but I really love him!” The Boss raged, “Damn it, he cheated on you and you’re still obsessed! How did I raise such a love-brain!” He looked at the refined Mr. King nearby, murderous aura exploding. “It’s all this scumbag! Cheated my son, and cheated my employee’s wife! Today I’ll do charity work and pop this promiscuous man!” The Boss pulled his gun and fired wildly at Mr. King. The wife screamed. My partner hugged her and dodged. I stood aside, admiring the chaos, even wanting a cigarette. Great, just great. You all killed me at least once. Now taste some lead yourselves!

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On our fifth anniversary together, I found myself sitting alone at a table full of cold food, just like the years before. Julian had promised to celebrate my birthday with me, just like he always did. And just like always, he broke that promise. This year, his excuse was his childhood friend, Bella. She wanted to do a photoshoot and needed him and his “boys” to be in it. Without a second thought, he ditched me and ran to her side. At 11 PM, Bella posted a photo on her social media, visible only to me. In the picture, four men in black briefs and bowties were kneeling around a woman draped in sheer fabric. The caption read: “Some people beg for a slice of cake, but I own the whole bakery.” I took a screenshot, then sent it to the girlfriends of Julian’s three best friends. If you guys think I’m beneath you, I hope you never have to kneel and beg me for anything. 1 Staring at that photo, something inside me quietly shattered. The lighting was warm and golden, making the four half-naked men look like Greek gods worshiping their queen. They gazed at her with adoration and submission. Bella, the queen in question, wore nothing but a translucent black veil, showing off every curve, radiating an arrogant, raw sexuality. The caption was a direct provocation. “Some people beg for a slice of cake, but I own the whole bakery.” I looked at the cold dinner I’d prepared, then back at the picture of Julian and his friends acting like trained pets. Suddenly, the anger evaporated. It wasn’t worth it. None of it was. I liked Bella’s post and commented: “A match made in heaven. Trash belongs with trash.” Then, I took a screenshot before the post magically disappeared. I sent it individually to the girlfriends of Julian’s three friends: Leo, Chris, and Sam. Ten minutes later, my phone exploded. Leo: “Linda, are you crazy? I was just helping Bella with a photoshoot! Why did you have to tell my girlfriend? You got a big mouth! She’s mad at me now, are you happy?” Chris: “You psycho! What did I ever do to you? Why involve my girl? If you’re bored, go jump off a bridge!” Sam: “Bitch! Stay out of my business! I hope your whole family gets hit by a car!” I was about to reply when Julian called. “Linda, what the hell is wrong with you?” he shouted. “Because of your little tattling, Leo and the guys are all fighting with their girlfriends. Do you know what you’ve done? Are you that twisted that you can’t stand seeing other people happy?” “Bella is crying because she feels guilty! This is all your fault!” “Get over here right now, explain yourself, and apologize to Bella. Or don’t expect me to be nice to you ever again.” “Bella is crying?” I asked calmly. “Of course! Why else would I be yelling at you? I’ve spoiled you too much.” “Is she still wearing that mosquito net that doesn’t cover anything while she’s crying? Are you guys still in your matching underwear comforting her?” Julian’s voice faltered. “Linda, stop being unreasonable. I don’t know what you’re talking about.” “Really?” I sent him the screenshot. “Julian, Bella is practically naked. Did you guys get hard during the shoot?” He hung up. 2 He probably didn’t expect Bella to post that just to spite me, or for me to go nuclear and send it to everyone. Since he hung up, I texted him: “Why hang up? Aren’t you going to yell at me anymore?” He started typing, then stopped. No reply. So, I posted the screenshot and the abusive texts from his friends on my own feed. Caption: “Happy birthday to me, even if I’m celebrating alone.” It was past midnight, technically the day after my birthday, but my feed blew up. Friends commented instantly: “WTF! Julian ditched you on your birthday for this? Trash.” “Don’t be mad, Linda. We’ll celebrate with you.” “Julian looks like a decent guy, but damn, he plays dirty. Four kings and a queen?” “Is she really wearing that? Is she advertising services?” Ten minutes later, Leo’s girlfriend joined the chat. She reposted the screenshot and announced her breakup. “If Leo can wear underwear for her today, he can take it off for her tomorrow. Trash belongs with trash. Go lick your queen’s feet, dog.” The chaos intensified. But Julian remained silent. I wasn’t going to let him hide. I sent the screenshot to his parents. That finally got his head out of his shell. Early the next morning, Julian’s mom called. “Linda, dear, can you come over? We saw the photo. There must be a misunderstanding. You two have been together for so long, the wedding is soon… why make it so ugly?” “Mrs. Miller, you saw the picture. I don’t think there’s a misunderstanding. I’ve been nothing but good to Julian. I love him, but that doesn’t give him the right to hurt me.” Out of respect for his parents, I agreed to go. “I’ll be there soon.” I drove to the Miller estate. Julian’s parents were waiting outside, with Julian standing behind them, head hung low. I got out of my car. Just as I shut the door, a black sports car roared out of nowhere, speeding straight for me. “Linda, look out!” Julian sprinted toward me and shoved me out of the way. Thud! I hit the ground hard. I watched as Julian flew into the air. 3 The sports car sped off. Julian was rushed to the hospital. He had saved me but paid the price with two broken legs. Staring at Julian in his hospital bed, casts on both legs, I felt… nothing. Yesterday, seeing him like this because of me would have destroyed me. I would have been crying my eyes out, wishing it was me instead. But today, I was just glad I only had a few scrapes. Julian woke up post-surgery, weak and pale. “Linda… you’re okay,” he whispered. I ignored the sentiment. “Julian, do you know what yesterday was?” He frowned. “Linda, I’m hurt. I got hurt saving you. If not for me, you’d be the one in this bed. How can you be so cold? Still thinking about your birthday?” His mom chimed in, “Linda, how can you talk to him like that? He saved your life! He’s your fiancé!” “Oh, now I’m the fiancé? I thought you guys preferred someone else.” I looked back at Julian. “Answer me. What was yesterday?” “It was your birthday! Happy now?” He snapped. “I missed it, big deal. I’ll make it up next year.” I laughed. “What about last year? And the year before? And the year before that?” “I…” “Last year, Bella wanted to watch the sunset, so you hiked with her all day while I waited at the restaurant until closing.” “Two years ago, you promised to come. I rented a yacht. You ditched me to help Bella move and took my car, leaving me stranded at the dock.” “Three years ago, Bella came back from abroad. You and your boys booked my hotel for a week-long party, forgot my birthday entirely, and stuck me with the $150k bill.” “And this year… you dressed like a stripper to take photos with her. If I did that with a guy, what would you think?” Anger flashed in his eyes. “Linda, stop being so disgusting. Bella’s photoshoot was art! It was about capturing her beauty and confidence. You’re just jealous because you don’t have an artistic bone in your body. Your mind is filthy.” “So, my boyfriend ditches my birthday for ‘art,’ and I should just be okay with it?” “Yes! Your birthday comes every year. Bella’s youth doesn’t. I was helping a friend achieve her dream. What’s wrong with that?” I nodded slowly. “You’re right. Absolutely nothing wrong.” “Since you love art so much, go chase it. We’re done.” 4 “Done? You’re breaking up over this?” Julian panicked. “Linda, are you insane? Bella is all alone. I was just being a friend. Stop being unreasonable! I’m lying here with broken legs, how long are you going to keep this up?” “I’m not being unreasonable. You say Bella is alone, but my parents are abroad. You promised them you’d take care of me. Did you?” He looked away. “You’re just wrong about this.” “Fine. If you think I’m wrong, I have nothing else to say.” “Recover well. I’ll cover your medical bills.” I turned to leave. Suddenly, Slap! Julian’s dad slapped him across the face. “Dad! Why?” His mom tried to protect him. “Are you crazy? Why hit him?” “He deserves it! He’s getting married, yet he’s fooling around with another woman! If he hadn’t gone to see her, would he be in this hospital bed? It’s his own fault!” Mr. Miller turned to me apologetically. “Linda, don’t be mad. I’ll teach him a lesson. I promise this won’t happen again.” “No need,” I raised a hand. “I can forgive him, on one condition.” Julian’s eyes lit up. “Anything! Name it!” “Call the police.” I stared at him. “Report the driver for attempted murder. Press charges.” “No!” He almost jumped out of bed. “Leo didn’t mean to hit me! It was an accident! He’s my brother. If I sue him, we’re done. No way!” “Suit yourself.” I walked out. “From today on, tell your ‘brothers’ not to expect any more handouts from the Lin Group.” “Julian, since you value the friend who tried to kill your fiancé more than me, I’ll handle it myself.” Outside the hospital, I ran into Bella. She smirked. “Heard Julian got hurt. Mind if I visit?” “Go ahead. We broke up. Sleep with him for all I care.” I tried to walk past, but she blocked me. “Linda, don’t think you’re special just because you have money. Julian stays with me because he wants to. He only dates you for your family’s business. He told me you’re just a glorified ATM to him.” “He never talks about you when he’s with me. Even when he’s drunk or dreaming, he calls my name.” Her eyes were venomous. “And Leo and the guys? They do whatever I say. I snap my fingers, and they jump.” “So Leo trying to run me over was your idea?” “Hmph, I never said that.” She tossed her hair. “You rich girls are so boring. You don’t know what men really want. I love watching you high-and-mighty princesses cry. It makes me happy.” I nodded. Then I looked behind her. “Did you guys hear that?” Bella turned around. Three women stood there, looking murderous. Leading them was Leo’s ex-girlfriend. “So you’re Bella? The bakery owner? You think sharing your boyfriend is fun?” Bella gasped. “You set me up!” I smiled. “I was waiting for them. Who were you waiting for?”

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Ten o’clock at night. On the dot. A delivery guy in a baseball cap knocked on the door of apartment 502. “Food delivery!” We were all roommates in a three-bedroom apartment. Ethan, the one we called Specs, opened the door. He had his headphones on, deep in some online game, and waved a dismissive hand. “Not mine.” Without another word, the delivery guy pulled out a knife and slashed his throat. Then, still holding the takeout bag, he pushed open the door to the next room. “Excuse me, did you order food?” Mark, the gym instructor who lived in that room, looked up, startled. “No, who are you—?” The delivery guy didn’t give him a chance to finish. The knife plunged straight into his heart. I had just finished my shower. The moment I opened the bathroom door, I saw the carnage. The floor was slick with blood. And the delivery guy was standing there, knife in hand. “It wasn’t them. So, was it you?” My mind went blank with terror. I shook my head, a reflex. “Not me, I don’t know anything…” I never finished the sentence. He hacked me to death in a flurry of strikes. When I opened my eyes again, I was back. Five minutes before I was murdered. I burst out of the bathroom, my heart hammering against my ribs, and my eyes locked with the equally terrified gazes of my two roommates. I knew, without a doubt, we had all come back. Suddenly, the doorbell rang. A low, muffled male voice came from the other side. “Food delivery?” … The three of us stared at each other, our faces masks of pure, unadulterated fear and disbelief. Ethan was the first to react, snatching his phone to call the cops. But Mark clamped a hand over his. “With what evidence? What are we going to tell them?” “That we had a premonition someone was about to murder us?” The living room was spotless. No bodies, no blood. Not even a shadow of the delivery guy. Calling the police now would just get us flagged for a prank call. “The key is to figure out who ordered the food,” I said, forcing my voice to stay level. “He’s obviously after the person who placed the order.” Ethan immediately pulled up his delivery app and showed us his phone. “I haven’t ordered anything all week!” Mark took out his phone, displaying his own order history. “I’m on a strict meal plan. I cook everything myself.” I quickly opened my app, too. The most recent order was from three days ago—breakfast. I offered a guess. “Maybe it was a neighbor? Maybe they put in the wrong address?” We lived in an old building, just two apartments per floor. Our neighbors were an elderly couple. Mark shook his head. “Before I died last time, I saw the order sticker on the bag. The address was definitely 502.” The three of us began to eye each other. The atmosphere grew tense. Was one of us lying? “I swear, I didn’t order anything.” To prove my innocence, I handed my phone to them. “You can check. My payment history is all there.” Ethan and Mark swapped phones, checking each other’s records. There were no recent food delivery charges for any of us. “Then who could it be?” Ethan ran his hands through his hair in frustration. Suddenly, I thought of someone. Just as I was about to pull out my phone to make a call, we heard our landlady’s cheerful voice from the hallway. “Leo? Mark? Ethan? Are you boys home?” She always came by on the fifth of the month to collect rent. Today was the fifth, a weekday, which was why she was here so late. The color drained from our faces. We all held our breath. Then, that same muffled voice spoke again. “Excuse me, did you order the food?” Our landlady, Mrs. Gable, paused, turning around. “A delivery? No, that wasn’t me.” The words had barely left her mouth when the delivery guy raised his knife and swung it at the back of her neck. A gut-wrenching scream tore through the hallway as Mrs. Gable crumpled to the floor. We were frozen, shaking uncontrollably. Mrs. Gable had always been kind to us. She knew we were recent grads with little money, so she kept the rent low and often brought us homemade dishes. My fingers trembled as I fumbled for my phone. It took me several tries to dial 911. “Hello… police…” Before I could say more, there was a click. The lock on our door turned. The delivery guy pushed the door open and gave me a grotesque smile. “What do you think you’re doing?” Every hair on my body stood on end. Mrs. Gable, miraculously, struggled to her feet. She latched onto his leg, using her last ounce of strength to yell, “Run…!” The delivery guy, annoyed, stabbed her twice more, shaking her body off his leg. Then, knife in hand, he started walking toward us, one step at a time. Mark tried to rush him, to fight back, but he was cut down with a single, brutal stab. In the next instant, a searing pain exploded in my chest as the cold blade pierced through me. I burst out of the bathroom again. At the exact same moment, Mark burst out of his room. Ethan’s voice was choked with sobs. “It… it happened again?” “This is the second time,” Mark said, his brow furrowed, his expression grim. “We have to find a way out of this,” I gasped, collapsing onto the sofa. “We can’t let him kill us again.” We fell into a heavy silence, each of us replaying the two deaths, searching for a pattern. The delivery guy’s target was clearly the person who ordered the food. We were just collateral damage because we weren’t who he was looking for. But who was he looking for? “And another thing—he’s good,” Mark said suddenly. “I graduated with a degree in sports science, I’m in the gym every day, but I was no match for him. His movements are professional. Like he’s been trained.” Just then, the doorbell rang. That terrifying voice echoed through the door once more. “Food delivery?” I glanced at my watch. Mrs. Gable would be arriving in two minutes. “Quick, call her! Call Mrs. Gable!” Ethan’s fingers flew across his phone screen. “Hey, Mrs. Gable? It’s Ethan. Listen, all three of us have come down with a bad cold. We don’t want to get you sick. Could you maybe come by another day?” At the same time, I dialed the number I hadn’t been able to call last time. It was answered after two rings. “Chloe?” I asked, my voice tight with urgency. “Did you order food for me?” I could hear her smile on the other end. “You found out! It was a surprise to thank you for helping with those reports today. How did you know?” We found her. The three of us exchanged a look of relief. “Chloe, what’s your connection to the delivery guy?” I pressed. “Why is he so desperate to find you?” She paused, her tone shifting to confusion. “The delivery guy? I just placed the order a minute ago; the app hasn’t even assigned a driver yet.” “Leo, is everything okay?” It wasn’t her. Time was running out. I didn’t have a moment to explain. I hung up. “Oh no!” Ethan suddenly cried out. “Mrs. Gable replied!” He played the voice message. Her warm voice filled the room. “All three of you are sick? You must not have eaten, then. I just made a big pot of stew. I’ll bring some up for you boys. I’m already on the fifth floor.” Our faces went deathly pale. We were too late. Ding! The elevator doors opened. Mrs. Gable’s voice followed. “Oh, hello, young man. Are you here with a delivery?” Then came the familiar, muffled male voice. “Excuse me, are you the one who ordered the food?” We scrambled to the peephole. Mrs. Gable was standing right by the elevator, face-to-face with the delivery guy. This was exactly how she had died last time. We had hidden behind the door like cowards, watching as she died trying to save us. This time, I couldn’t let that happen. “Open the door,” I said, my voice firm. Ethan and Mark looked at me, stunned for a second, then nodded in agreement. Mark sprinted to the kitchen and came back with a fruit knife. Ethan grabbed a heavy mop handle. I yanked the door open. “Mrs. Gable, get in here! Quick!” Before she could process what was happening, Ethan had pulled her inside. Mark immediately tried to slam the door shut. But just as it was about to close, the delivery guy wedged his knee in the gap, forcing it open. He stepped inside, his eyes under the brim of his baseball cap scanning the four of us. “Who ordered the food?” This time, I stepped in front of Mark and Ethan. “I did. What do you want?” The delivery guy’s gaze settled on me. He didn’t immediately kill me. I had gambled correctly. He held out the takeout bag. “Valuable item. I need you to confirm it’s undamaged before I can leave.” I hesitated, then took the bag. It was impossibly light, weighing almost nothing. I unzipped it. And froze. Inside, there was nothing but a single, crumpled piece of paper. Before I could even read what was on it, he raised his knife and plunged it into my chest. As my consciousness faded, I heard him snarl, “Liar! It wasn’t you at all!” The third time I burst out of the bathroom, I collapsed onto the sofa, gasping for air. Ethan and Mark stumbled out of their rooms a moment later, their faces even more haggard than before. “After he… after he killed you, he killed us all again.” Ethan’s voice was cracking. “Leo, you were holding the bag. What was in it? Why did you look so shocked?” Mark frowned. “It was empty. Then why did he insist you confirm its contents?” “It wasn’t empty,” I said, trying to steady myself, my mind a chaotic mess. “There was a note.” “A note? What did it say?” they asked in unison. I shook my head. “I didn’t get a chance to read it.” “Wait a minute,” Ethan said suddenly. “The first time, he asked who ordered the food, then killed all three of us. The second time, he didn’t even ask, he just killed us. The third time, even after you said you ordered it, he still killed us all…” “What if… what if he isn’t here to deliver food at all?” “What if he’s just here to kill us?” A chill went down my spine. “But why? None of us even know him.” Mark considered this. “Maybe he’s a hitman. I told you before, he’s had professional training.” I shook my head. “But who would go to all this trouble to kill us? There has to be a motive.” We fell silent again, racking our brains, trying to recall every detail from each loop. Then I remembered the note in the empty bag. Even though I hadn’t read it, an answer was beginning to form in my mind—an answer so bizarre I had to test it myself. I stood up. “This time, we can’t just wait for him to kill us.” “I’m going to confront him. I’m going to find out what he really wants.” Ethan grabbed my arm. “No, Leo, that’s insane! He has a knife!” “We’ll all go,” Mark added. “The three of us together might stand a chance.” “It’s useless,” I said, shaking my head. “He’s too skilled. You saw what happened last time, Mark. We’re no match for him.” I glanced at my watch. The doorbell would ring in one minute. “You two hide in your rooms. Don’t come out,” I instructed. “If something happens to me, you figure out another way.” They started to protest, but the doorbell cut them off. That muffled voice, again. “Food delivery?” I squared my shoulders, opened the door, slipped out, and pulled it shut behind me. The delivery guy stood there, cap pulled low, holding the same takeout bag. “I ordered it,” I said, looking him straight in the eye. “Now what do you really want? The bag is empty, so what’s written on that note?” He seemed taken aback, as if he hadn’t expected me to be so direct. He said something strange. “You can’t be…” Then he lunged, the knife aimed at my chest. I was ready. I sidestepped the attack, grabbed the emergency wrench from the fire hose cabinet in the hall, and swung it hard at his wrist. The knife clattered to the floor. He recoiled in pain. I seized the opportunity, tackling him and pinning him against the wall with the wrench at his throat. “Talk! Why are you trying to kill us?” Just then, I heard footsteps pounding up the stairs. Walter, the new head of building security, appeared, stun baton in hand. A minute earlier, I had called security and asked him to come up. Walter was a retired martial arts instructor. With him here, we were safe. “Leo? What’s going on?” Walter looked alarmed. “I got your call and came right up. You got a burglar?” “Walter, he’s a murderer! Help me, call the police!” Relief washed over me, and my tense muscles began to relax. Walter immediately pulled out his phone, his thumb swiping across the screen. “Okay, okay, take it easy, I’m calling 911 right now…” But the next second, he jabbed the stun baton… right into me. An agonizing jolt shot through my body. My vision went black, and I collapsed. The delivery guy rubbed his wrist and slowly picked up his knife from the floor. “You… you know each other?” I stared at them in disbelief, blood from the back of my head trickling down my cheek. Just as the delivery guy’s knife was about to plunge into my chest, the apartment door flew open. Ethan and Mark charged out. Mark was holding a metal pipe, and he swung it with all his might, connecting with the delivery guy’s back. The man grunted in pain and turned to face him. “Leo, go!” Mark shouted, trying to hold him off. Ethan threw himself at Walter’s legs. “Leo, run! Don’t worry about us!” The delivery guy stabbed Mark in the shoulder, but Mark just gritted his teeth and held on. I watched, helpless, as Walter pinned Ethan against the wall, the stun baton crackling against his body. I watched as the delivery guy stabbed Mark again and again, his blood splattering across the white hallway walls. We were just roommates. We kept to ourselves, busy with our own lives. I never would have imagined that, in a life-or-death moment, they would lay down their lives to save me. The elevator doors chimed open. My escape was right there. But if I ran, the loop would end. They would stay dead. For real. Without a second thought, I scrambled up and threw myself in front of Mark, grappling with the delivery guy. His baseball cap was knocked off, revealing his face. I froze. I knew that face.

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“Mom, about the holiday trip… you and Dad should probably sit this one out.” My son’s words, spoken so casually after dinner, made my hands freeze where I was clearing the table. “What do you mean? Your father already paid the travel agency. It was ten thousand dollars.” His eyes darted away, his voice dropping. “Well, Jessie’s parents have never even been out of the state. We talked it over, and we want to take them to see the world a little.” A hot surge of anger rose in my chest. “Absolutely not. Your father has terminal liver cancer. His last wish is to take this one trip. If you want to bring Jessie’s parents, you and she can pay their way. Why should your father and I be the ones to stay home?” “Mom, my company had a terrible year. We didn’t even get a Christmas bonus. Where are we supposed to find that kind of money? Besides,” he added, his voice hardening, “Dad is sick. He should be at home resting, not putting himself through all that hassle.” I let out a cold, bitter laugh and pulled out my phone. “Hello, is this the travel agency? I’d like to cancel a booking.” 1 Daniel lunged and snatched the phone from my hand. “Mom, what are you doing? I’m trying to do what’s best for you!” I was shaking with rage. “What’s best for us? You’re taking our money to take your in-laws on vacation, and you call that what’s best for us?” A flicker of annoyance crossed his face. “Mom, can you stop making everything about money? It’s not like your money isn’t going to be my money in the end anyway, right?” “And can you please be reasonable for a second? We finally get a break from work, and it’s already a pain to travel with our kid. You expect us to take care of a sick man on top of that? How is that a vacation?” His words were like ice in my veins. “You didn’t seem to care about being ‘reasonable’ when your father gave you fifty thousand dollars for your wedding, did you?” “Or when he paid the down payment on your luxury condo?” “But now that your father is sick, now you want to be reasonable?” A flush of shame colored Daniel’s cheeks. “Mom, why are you bringing that up? That’s different.” “Besides, isn’t that what parents are supposed to do? Every parent helps their son get started in life!” He said it with such entitlement that a sharp pain shot through my chest. Just then, my daughter-in-law, Jessie, came out of the bedroom holding our grandson, trying to smooth things over. “Mom, please don’t be angry.” “You know my parents have never had much. They’ve dreamed their whole lives of going to Washington D.C. to see the monuments. As their daughter, how could I say no?” Not wanting to scare the baby, I took a deep breath and softened my voice. “Jessie, I’m not against you honoring your parents. But you know your father-in-law’s condition. This might be his last trip. Ever.” “Originally, we were just going to go by ourselves to make it easy on you. But you two were the ones who insisted the whole family had to be together for the holidays, so your father booked for five. He’s been planning this for five months.” “We paid for everything, we did all the work, and now we don’t even get to go? Put yourself in our shoes. Wouldn’t you be angry?” Jessie didn’t answer. She just shot Daniel a look. He spoke up again. “Mom, you and Dad get to live with us in this beautiful condo, enjoying your retirement, while Jessie’s parents are stuck back in their small town. It’s just one trip. Why can’t you be a little more generous?” I snorted. “Enjoying our retirement? I’m your nanny, and your father is your housekeeper. Is that what you call enjoying retirement?” “We get a combined ten thousand a month in pensions. We give you five thousand for the mortgage, twenty-five hundred for groceries, and we’re constantly covering your extra expenses. Is that what you call enjoying retirement?” The more I spoke, the more the injustice stung. I paused, then continued, “If you want to treat her parents, you use your own money.” “And if your father and I can’t go, then nobody goes!” Seeing my resolve, Jessie’s eyes reddened as she played her final card. “Mom, you know my parents don’t have pensions, and Daniel and I haven’t gotten paid in months. We don’t have any extra money. Can’t you just find it in your heart to understand?” I untied my apron and threw it on the table. “Haven’t been paid in months, but you can still send your parents five hundred dollars every month?” Jessie’s family was not well off, and I knew she secretly sent them money. My husband and I had always pretended not to know. Her face went pale with panic. That’s when my son lost his last shred of patience. “Mom, can you stop being so selfish? Is this tiny little thing really worth tearing the whole family apart?” “You know what, Jessie was right. You just look down on her parents! You’re a snob, and you can’t stand your poor relatives!” My chest heaved, my face burning with fury. At that moment, my husband, Robert, walked out of the bedroom. “That’s enough,” he said softly. “Stop fighting. We’ll all go. I’ll pay for the extra tickets.” “No!” Daniel and Jessie said in unison. “Dad, what if your condition gets worse? What if you die on us out there?” Daniel blurted out. The air in the room froze. I stared at him, utterly incredulous. Even my husband, always so mild-mannered, turned ashen, his breathing ragged. A guilty look flickered across Daniel’s face. “Well… it’s true. Dad, just… don’t come and be a burden to us.” The next thing I knew, my hand had flown across his face in a sharp slap. “Daniel, you apologize to your father. Now!” But he was past the point of reason. He jutted out his chin defiantly. “I’m just telling the truth. We’ve spent so much money on Dad’s illness. Consider this trip our compensation!” Robert clutched his chest, his voice trembling. “The money for my treatment came from our savings. What do we need to compensate you for?” I rushed to his side, rubbing his back to help him breathe. “Your savings were supposed to be for me, weren’t they? Now it’s all gone on your medical bills. What’s going to happen to our family?” “Cancer is a death sentence anyway. In the end, we’ll be left with nothing—no father and no money,” Daniel complained, while Jessie stood by his side, looking equally aggrieved. So that was it. They had been stewing over the cost of Robert’s treatment for a long time. The trip was just an excuse to let it all out. “You… you…” Robert’s lips trembled, his face a ghostly white. Suddenly, his eyes rolled back, and he collapsed. “Robert, don’t scare me!” “Quick! Call 911!” ________________________________________ This is a tipping point in the story. Continue reading to see how a mother’s love turns into a lesson her son will never forget. ________________________________________ I followed the ambulance to the hospital. Looking at my husband, so thin and frail on the bed, I wept silently. I couldn’t understand how we could work our fingers to the bone for our son and his family, only to be treated like this. As I was sobbing, Robert woke up. “Alright, stop crying. Just let them have their way. Your son has a point… in my condition, I probably shouldn’t be traveling.” I wiped my tears. “Why should we? You’re his father. How could he treat you like that?” “Robert, let’s go back to our old place. Let’s just live by ourselves. I don’t want you to spend your final days being treated this way.” He managed a weak smile. “I don’t have much time left. It doesn’t matter how they treat me. I’m worried about you. If we really fall out with him, what will you do when you’re all alone?” His words caught in my throat. After a moment, he continued, “It’s fine. The trip leaves the day after Christmas. This way, the whole family can have a happy holiday together.” I didn’t want to cause him any more distress, so I finally nodded. “Okay. We’ll check out tomorrow and go get groceries for Christmas dinner.” The next day, Robert and I came home, our arms full of shopping bags, only to find our suitcases sitting by the front door. We pushed the door open. Inside, it was a scene of domestic bliss. “Dad, Mom. You’re back?” Daniel’s face was a mask of panic as he walked toward us. “My in-laws are here. There isn’t enough room, so… maybe you and Dad could stay in a hotel for a few days?” I was so furious I nearly threw the groceries at him. Jessie rushed over, taking the bags from my hands but blocking our way inside. “Mom, Dad, I’m so sorry to put you out. But my parents don’t visit often. Please, just try to understand.” Rage was boiling inside me, but Robert gripped my arm. “It’s no problem,” he said calmly. “It just means your mother will have a lot of work to do for Christmas dinner.” As he said this, Jessie tugged on Daniel’s sleeve. Daniel hesitated, then gritted his teeth. “Dad, this is our first Christmas in the new house. Your… sickness… it’s bad luck. You and Mom should just celebrate somewhere else.” With that, they quickly shut the door in our faces. My anger exploded. I pounded on the door. “Daniel, have you lost your soul?!” Robert pulled me away, and we left with our luggage. Downstairs on the street, I couldn’t stop the tears. But Robert was strangely calm. “Let’s sell the condo,” he said. I stared at him, stunned. “But… isn’t the deed in their names?” “Before we bought it,” Robert said quietly, “just in case, I had them sign a nominee agreement. It states that we provided all the funds, and they are only holding the property in their name. The condo is, in fact, ours.” “Perhaps I was wrong all along,” he continued, his voice heavy. “I thought raising a son would mean having support in our old age. Now I see the only things you can truly rely on are money and your own health.” “We can’t count on our son anymore. I have to make sure you’re provided for.” He took my hand, and we walked slowly down the street, finally stopping in front of a five-star hotel. “Come on,” he said. “We’ve scrimped and saved our entire lives. It’s time we lived a little.” My eyes welled up again. I squeezed his hand, and we walked inside. The next morning, Robert and I went to a real estate agent and listed the condo. Afterward, we went to the supermarket. The hotel suite had a kitchen; even if it was just the two of us, we were going to have a proper Christmas. On Christmas Eve, as we were making dinner, my son’s mother-in-law sent me a photo. “My son-in-law is so wonderful! He didn’t want me to get tired cooking, so he took us out for a huge seafood feast. Look at this spread, it cost over two thousand dollars! More than we can eat. Too bad you’re not here.” The picture showed a table laden with king crab, abalone, sea cucumber, and giant lobsters. I didn’t reply. I just arranged our freshly cooked meal on a nice plate, took a photo, and posted it to my social media. “Christmas Eve for two in a five-star hotel. Sometimes, simple is best!” A minute later, my phone rang. It was Daniel. “Mom, it’s Christmas. Do you have to be like this?” “How are we supposed to face anyone after you post something like that? All our friends and family will think we’re ungrateful monsters! Delete it, now!” I scoffed. “What we do has nothing to do with you.” “You had the nerve to kick your own parents out of the house. Are you really worried about being called a monster now?” I hung up and turned off my phone.

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My wife and I were escorting top-secret research data back to the States. But as we were about to board the plane, she told me she’d left an important file back at the hotel and that I should go on ahead. I smiled and watched her get into a cab, then turned and opened the location sharing app on my phone. She wasn’t going back to the hotel. She had changed her route and was heading to a villa in the suburbs. I hailed a cab and followed her. Standing at the gate of the villa was a man, holding a child. “Honey, you’re finally back,” he said. “Your daughter and I missed you so much.” Sarah took the child from him, then stood on her toes and pressed a long, deep kiss to his lips. “I missed you guys like crazy,” she said. “Home is wherever you two are.” Just then, I got a call from Homeland Security, asking why I hadn’t boarded the plane on time. I looked at the couple embracing not far from me, and my voice was cold as ice. “Because Dr. Sarah Chen, Deputy Director of the Advanced Satellite Research Institute, is colluding with foreign agents and selling state secrets.” “I’m requesting immediate military assistance to apprehend her.” 1. Not long after I hung up, Sarah’s phone rang. I don’t know what was said, but the smile vanished from her face, replaced by a flicker of panic. She quickly handed the child back to the man, whose name was Evan, and rushed to leave. Evan, confused, grabbed her hand. “Honey, where are you going? I thought you were spending the night with me and our daughter.” But Sarah was in no mood to explain. She shook him off and got in her car, speeding back to the airport. When she found out that I hadn’t boarded the plane either, she started calling me frantically. I ignored her calls. Instead, I sat ramrod straight, facing two agents from Homeland Security. The lead agent, a man named Miller, looked at me sternly. “Mr. Zhang, the allegations you’re making are extremely serious. If they’re found to be false, you will face legal consequences.” I nodded, my expression grim. “Agent Miller,” I said, my voice steady, “I stand by every word. My wife, Sarah, and I were tasked with one mission: to bring this core technology back to the U.S. One night, I forgot to shut down my laptop. The webcam happened to record her putting a sleeping pill in my milk. After I was asleep, she snuck out of the hotel.” “That’s how I found out she’d been leaving every night, going to the suburbs, and not coming back until dawn.” I placed a flash drive on the table. “This contains the video from my laptop and a record of Sarah’s movements every night after she left the hotel.” Miller exchanged a look with the other agent. “So, is the core technology in her possession right now?” I nodded, then shook my head. “To prevent a security breach, we each took half of the data. I can guarantee that no one but me has seen my half. But I can’t say the same for Sarah.” Miller’s breath hitched. He grabbed the flash drive and stood up. “Mr. Zhang, we need to verify the information and evidence you’ve provided. In the meantime, you cannot leave this room. I hope you understand.” I nodded calmly. Back at the airport, Sarah was in a full-blown panic. She couldn’t reach me. She decided to go back to the hotel to find me. But as she stepped out of the terminal, she was surrounded by a dozen heavily armed tactical officers. The black muzzles of their rifles were all aimed at her head. The color drained from her face, and she nearly collapsed. “Dr. Sarah Chen? You need to come with us.” Before she could speak, two officers had her arms pinned behind her back, and she was being bundled into an armored vehicle. She was taken back to the embassy. I turned my head just in time to lock eyes with her. Her pupils contracted. Then she let out a furious roar. “Alex! What the hell is wrong with you?” “I’m your wife! How could you do this to me?” I said nothing, just stared at her with cold indifference. My wife? Half an hour ago, she was kissing another man, calling him her husband. If she truly considered me her husband, she wouldn’t have gone abroad while I was on a classified research assignment and given birth to her lover’s child. Whether she was actually selling state secrets didn’t matter to me. All I knew was that I wanted revenge for the humiliation she had put me through. The game was on. 2. It took less than thirty minutes for Miller to find Evan, and to discover that Sarah had borne him an illegitimate daughter. Miller returned with a file and sat down across from me again. “Mr. Zhang, how much do you know about your wife’s affair? Are you reporting her as an act of revenge?” His eyes were sharp, probing. I tightened my grip on my teacup, but my expression remained calm, my voice even. “I did know about the affair. But I would never jeopardize my career for revenge.” “I discovered something was wrong while I was gathering evidence of her infidelity.” “What was wrong?” “Her lover is a foreign national, with deep overseas connections.” Of course, I hadn’t discovered this myself. Evan, in a fit of arrogant provocation, had told me himself. His sudden appearance in my life had shattered all my illusions about love and family. Miller’s brow furrowed. “And based on that alone, you concluded she was colluding with foreign agents and selling state secrets?” My eyes reddened, and a tremor entered my voice, a carefully crafted mix of grief and pain. “Agent Miller, I didn’t want to air my dirty laundry, but with national security at stake, I couldn’t keep silent.” “Everyone thinks Sarah had a miscarriage. But the truth is, I saw their chat logs. She intentionally aborted my child for her lover. Then, while I was away on assignment, she went abroad to be with him and gave birth to their daughter.” My story was a mix of truth and lies. I had seen their chat logs, but by then, she had already miscarried. I said what I said to focus their attention on those messages. As I expected, Miller immediately asked, “What was in the chat logs?” “Besides the usual lover’s talk, he was constantly asking her about her work.” I paused for effect. “My maternal grandfather was the first director of the NSA, and my paternal grandfather also worked for the agency. Growing up around them, I’ve become sensitive to certain things.” Miller looked at me with surprise. This was my trump card. With my family’s legacy backing me up, who would dare question my motives? When Miller spoke again, his tone was much more respectful. “Mr. Zhang, rest assured, we will investigate this thoroughly. We will not wrongly accuse an innocent person, but we will not let a guilty one go free, especially not one who threatens the security of our nation.” I nodded and added a subtle hint. “Sarah has probably deleted the chat logs, but she has an encrypted folder that even I can’t access. You might find what you’re looking for in there.” Not long after Miller left, there was another commotion outside the conference room. Evan had been “invited” to the embassy for a little chat. His eyes were wide with terror. When he saw me, he lunged, a wild look on his face. The tactical officers restrained him, but he kept screaming at me. “Alex, you bastard! What have you done to us?” A smirk played on my lips. “Nothing. I’m just returning the favor. For what you and Sarah did to me. And to my child.” “Oh, and by the way, didn’t she say that home is wherever you are? I’m just helping to make that a reality for you.” The color drained from Evan’s face. It took him a moment to find his voice, and when he did, it was a shriek. “You monster!” “No wonder no one loves you!” “No wonder Sarah couldn’t even stand to have you touch her!” A month ago, his words would have cut me to the quick. But now, the more they raged, the more pleased I was. It meant they were scared.

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To me, Karen was never the false heiress who stole my life. She was my baby sister, my closest friend. When our parents refused to acknowledge me, she knelt in the chapel until her knees bled, just to get me into the family tree. When I was bullied at school, she slapped the ringleader Stanton so hard his face swelled—trembling with fear, yet forcing a smile to comfort me. Even the family fortune, she refused a cent, insisting it all be mine. Then she brought Ethan into my life. Seen as the perfect match, he taught me etiquette, helped me into a top university, and shaped me into a true heiress. On my graduation day, he proposed, vowing to care for me forever. They were two flames, warming what I’d thought was a hopeless life. Until the day I came home from the hospital and saw them through our half-open bedroom door. Ethan had her pressed against the wall, voice trembling. “Why make me marry her? You know I’ve always loved you.” Karen didn’t struggle. She only wept. “Please… don’t hurt Elara. We’re all she has now.” Outside, tears and blood soaked the medical report in my hand: 【PROGNOSIS: LESS THAN ONE MONTH TO LIVE.】 And suddenly, I laughed. How perfect. It seemed even Death could grant a wish. 1 Thud! A wave of dizziness from the blood loss sent me stumbling, and I slammed hard against the doorframe. The medical report I was clutching scattered across the floor. As I scrambled to pick up the pages, the door was yanked open from the inside. Karen’s face, still streaked with fresh tears, went pale with shock when she saw the blood pouring from my nose. “Elara! What happened? Why are you bleeding so much?” I wiped my nose clumsily with the back of my hand, forcing my lips into what I hoped was a natural smile. “It’s nothing. I was staring at my phone and walked right into the door.” Karen knelt, using her own sleeve to gently clean my face, her voice a mix of concern and scolding. “How can you be so careless? Does it hurt?” “Let me help you up. We’ll have the family doctor take a look at you later, just to make sure it’s not…” Her words caught in her throat. Behind her, Ethan’s gaze had fallen to the papers on the floor. His brow furrowed as he reached for one. “What’s this?” My head whipped around. The medical report! No! Panic seized me. I practically dove forward, snatching the paper from his grasp. My voice was shrill, unrecognizable. “It’s nothing!” My outburst startled them both. Ethan’s hand froze in mid-air, his eyes fixed on the paper I now held in a death grip. Luckily, the most damning information was blurred into an illegible red smudge. I struggled to compose myself, stuffing the report into my pocket. “It’s just the flu, and I’m a bit run down,” I lied, my voice still shaky. “The doctor gave me some medicine.” “You know how it is, the air is so dry in the winter, it gives me nosebleeds. You two should be careful as well!” Ethan studied me for a few seconds, the suspicion in his eyes slowly fading. But then he asked, his voice cautious, “Elara, you were just at the door… You didn’t happen to hear anything, did you?” I could feel Karen’s fingers tighten on my arm. I knew what they were afraid of. It didn’t matter. Even knowing the truth, I could never blame them. This life, this happiness… it was all borrowed. But my eyes still burned, and I had to fight back tears. I tilted my head back, trying my best to look innocent and confused. “Hear what? I was too busy having a fight with the doorframe. It hurt so much I was seeing stars. What’s going on?” Ethan visibly relaxed. Karen’s whole body seemed to sag with relief. She helped me inside. “Nothing. Ethan and I were just talking about your wedding.” “Come on, let’s get that bleeding stopped.” Ethan nodded and moved to close the door. But just as it was about to click shut— Bang! A hand, all sharp knuckles and lean fingers, shot through the gap, forcing the door open. Stanton’s defiant face appeared in the opening. He yelled right at me, “Elara, what the hell? Why’d you run when you saw me at the oncology department?” My heart sank. I’m screwed. 2 I had run into Stanton at the hospital, but I was wearing a mask. My first instinct upon seeing someone I knew was to bolt. I never imagined he would recognize me, let alone follow me home. Ethan moved to block him, but Stanton just shoved past him. He strode right up to me, his eyes scanning my panicked face. He fumbled in his pocket and then roughly pressed a lipstick into my hand, his tone as sharp as gravel. “Your stuff falls out of your pocket and you don’t even notice? I was yelling your name, are you deaf?” A lipstick? I stared at it, confused. I looked down at the tube in my palm. I’d never owned this shade in my life. But I grabbed the lifeline he’d thrown me. I forced a laugh. “I’m so sorry, Stanton! I wasn’t feeling well, so I was in a rush.” “I honestly didn’t hear you. Thanks so much for bringing it all the way back.” For once, Stanton’s expression was serious. He looked me up and down, as if he wanted to say more. But in the end, all he did was let out a derisive snort. With his usual arrogance, he drawled, “Funny, isn’t it? The big sister goes to the hospital, and her fiancé hangs out with the little sister all day…” With that, he turned on his heel and walked out. The air crackled with a sudden, awkward tension. I jumped in immediately, trying to smooth things over. “That idiot Stanton, he’s had it in for me since we were kids. Every time he sees me, he just has to say something to stir up trouble between us. Don’t listen to him.” “Next time I see his father, I’m definitely telling on him again.” Worried they’d dwell on it, I caught sight of the housekeeper, Mrs. Gable, bringing dishes to the dining room. I grabbed Ethan’s sleeve with one hand and looped my other arm through Karen’s, physically breaking the suffocating silence. “Oh, that smells amazing! Let’s eat!” “Looks like Mrs. Gable went all out today. I’ve been so busy, I’m absolutely starving!” It was a lie. At this stage of my illness, hunger was a distant memory. I couldn’t even taste my food anymore. But my little performance worked, and the atmosphere returned to something resembling normal. At the dinner table, I mechanically moved food to my mouth. It tasted like ash. Across from me, Karen’s face lit up as if she’d just remembered something. She put down her fork excitedly. “Elara, I got a ton of fireworks for the backyard!” “Can we go set them off after dinner?” I shook my head gently. In my condition, I’d collapse before the first firework even left the ground. “Not tonight, Karen. I’m feeling a little drained, and the medicine I took earlier is making me sleepy. I think I’m going to turn in early.” “Ethan, you should go with her.” The conversation shifted seamlessly to Ethan. They started talking about the brand of fireworks, which somehow led to a trip down memory lane. “Oh, Ethan, do you remember that time at grandpa’s birthday party? We snuck out to light fireworks and ended up setting the drapes on fire. We were so scared we hid in a closet for the entire afternoon!” Ethan looked up, his eyes shining with a vibrant light I had never seen directed at me. “How could I forget? We only got caught because you couldn’t stop sneezing.” “Hey! It was your fault for hiding us in the closet that reeked of mothballs.” “My fault? Who was it that grabbed a sparkler and insisted on pretending it was a rocket launch? Don’t play innocent now, Miss Future Architect.” … They went back and forth, weaving a tapestry of memories I had no part in. I sat between them, feeling a deep, chilling ache in my bones, like I was being slowly flayed alive. Thankfully, Karen was too excited to sit still for long. Before dinner was even over, she was dragging Ethan out to the backyard. Claiming exhaustion, I went upstairs to the master bedroom. Standing before the massive floor-to-ceiling window, I watched the yard light up, bright as day. Karen ran around like a little kid, while Ethan stood a few feet behind her, relaxed, his eyes following her every move. A firework screamed into the night sky, illuminating their joyful faces. Karen spun around, laughing, and seemed to spot me in the window. She waved enthusiastically. “Elara, look! Isn’t it beautiful?” I immediately plastered on the brightest smile I could manage, waved back with all my might, then pressed my hands together by my cheek in a gesture for sleep. They nodded, and I drew the curtains closed. The moment I turned away, I staggered into the bathroom and began to vomit violently, the pain causing my body to curl into a ball. I slid down the cold tile wall to the floor. Acting on pure instinct, I crawled toward the nightstand, my trembling hand fumbling for my bottle of painkillers. I didn’t bother counting. I dry-swallowed a dozen of them. Grabbing the edge of the curtain for support, I tried to pull myself up. But in doing so, I accidentally opened a small gap. And I saw it. Ethan and Karen were kissing.

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