After my mom divorced my dad—who was always “too busy” to be home—life got tough. She adopted the “calm and collected” persona. Never fought for anything, never raised her voice. The neighbors all said she was a saint. So, I became her mouthpiece. The things she “couldn’t” say, I said. The people she was “too polite” to offend, I cursed out. The neighbors all whispered that I was petty and rude, nothing like my saintly mother. Then one day, a local drunk tried to assault her. Mom was putting up a desperate fight. Without thinking, I grabbed a glass bottle and smashed it over his head, saving her. I ran to the stairwell to call for help, but Mom shoved me from behind. I tumbled down the stairs, my spine shattering against the concrete steps. Paralyzed from the neck down. It turned out her “desperate fight” was just foreplay. It turned out the drunk was her high school crush, the bad boy she never got over. They moved in together immediately. One afternoon, I woke up from a nap because the bed was shaking. I opened my eyes to see the drunk on top of me. I wanted to fight, but my body wouldn’t move. In a panic, I screamed for Mom. But then I saw her peeking through the doorway. Her eyes weren’t filled with horror, but with jealousy. Despair swallowed me whole. I bit my tongue off, but I didn’t die. So I starved myself. That finally did it. Mom shook her head, sighing with fake pity. “I told you not to be so hot-tempered. You should be calm like a chrysanthemum. Now look, you’ve lost your life.” When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day of the divorce. My parents asked me: “Who do you want to live with?” I chose Mom, of course. I have a debt to repay for her “great kindness.” 1 “Nina, who do you choose?” Mom asked, calm and confident as always. Dad looked devastated, but a glimmer of unrealistic hope still shone in his eyes. He pleaded silently. I buried the hatred deep in my eyes. “I choose… actually, let me use the bathroom first. You guys discuss the other stuff!” I pulled out my cracked phone—Mom’s hand-me-down—and texted Dad: [Dad, I want to live with you, but I’m going to choose Mom. Please don’t be sad. I’ll come back to you soon. Delete this after reading.] I flushed the toilet and walked out. Dad looked like a new man. The despair was gone, replaced by a rosy glow of vitality. I never realized how much my choice in my past life had destroyed him. Mom shot him a look of disdain and started her guilt-tripping routine: “Guess I wasted my time. Can’t wait to go meet your little mistress before the ink is even dry, huh?” 2 The “mistress” Mom referred to was Aunt Diane, Dad’s childhood friend. She had pursued him once, but Dad was already in love with Mom. Dad, being the honest idiot he was, told Mom everything. Back then, Mom just laughed it off. Proud as a peacock, she wouldn’t deign to be jealous of a “country bumpkin.” Now that she wanted a divorce, she suddenly cared about Aunt Diane, painting Dad as morally bankrupt. But in my past life, it was this “country bumpkin” who brought me food and water after I was paralyzed. Dad argued back, face red, but Mom just crossed her arms and said coolly, “See? I hit a nerve. Why else would you react so strongly?” Dad was clumsy with words. Every time he tried to defend himself—”I haven’t even spoken to her in years!”—Mom would cut him off with a breezy, “I don’t believe you. Don’t bother explaining.” “I didn’t do it!” Dad shouted again, but this time, his voice was firm. Because he knew his daughter believed him. 3 In my last life, Dad gave Mom the house and most of his savings because he was afraid I’d suffer. He left with almost nothing. Mom accepted it all calmly, as if she were doing him a favor. “He gave it willingly,” she’d say. I suspect she had been badmouthing Dad to me for years, using the “evil stepmother” trope to scare me into choosing her, all to secure his assets. The irony is, I believed her lies, chose her, and walked straight into hell. “You want to eat? Make it yourself. Girls need to be independent. Go wash the dishes!” She’d push dirty plates at me—leftovers from her delicious stir-fry while I stared at my bowl of plain white rice. When I lived with Dad, he never let me touch dish soap, saying it would ruin my hands. “Just study,” he’d say. With Mom, even adding an egg to my instant noodles was a crime. “I need that for breakfast tomorrow. Why are you so greedy?” She canceled my piano lessons immediately. “You have no talent. Why waste the teacher’s time?” 4 “Nina, hurry up. Me or your dad?” Mom stared at me intensely. I didn’t disappoint her. “I choose Mom.” Mom smiled, a victory lap in her eyes. “Jack, she made her choice. Now let’s talk assets.” I almost laughed looking at the divorce agreement she drafted. It left Dad with nothing. This was my “saintly” mother. In my past life, she used me as a weapon. This life, I’m aiming that weapon right back at her. “Mom, if Dad gives us the house, where will he live? We can go to Grandma’s, but he’ll be homeless! He just lost me, now he loses his home? That’s so sad!” Mom’s face twisted. Her “thoughtful little jacket” was suddenly letting in a draft. She stammered, trying to maintain her persona. “Well… I didn’t really want this dump, it’s just closer to your school.” I cut off her retreat. “Oh, Mom, Grandma’s house is only a few minutes further by bus. It’s fine.” Mom’s face went dark. “I… I’m doing this for you!” I smiled, showing all my teeth. “Don’t worry, Mom! I have a conscience, just like you taught me. I wouldn’t let Dad be homeless just to save five minutes on a bus ride!” Mom’s face cycled through colors like a broken traffic light. 5 With no other choice, she glared at me and changed the agreement. Dad kept the house, but he had to pay her $60,000. They both signed. The divorce cooling-off period was over, so the paperwork went through fast. They got their divorce certificates. Mom let out a huge breath. She had been terrified Dad would back out. “Transfer the $60,000 to my account,” Mom said, her “calm” facade cracking with greed. “Mom, what’s the rush? Let’s transfer the house title to Dad first.” Mom frowned but went along with it. A few days later, the title transfer was done. “Now transfer the money!” Mom’s patience was gone. “Didn’t you lend your brother $80,000?” Dad said coldly. “You keep $60,000 of that debt. Transfer the remaining $20,000 to me. Here’s my account number.” This was the script Dad and I rehearsed. Mom’s brain short-circuited. The math was simple: Assets were split. The $80,000 loan was a marital asset. Dad was owed half. Mom: ??? “Jack, what do you mean? You’re not paying me, and I owe you $10,000? You tricked me?!” Her “calm” persona shattered into a screech. Dad looked innocent. “I didn’t trick you. Just stating facts.” “You know my brother used that money for a house! He can’t pay it back now! How am I supposed to live?!” “How you live is none of my business. You knew he couldn’t pay it back, so why did you lend it?” 6 Dad was a steelworker. Hard labor, long hours, living on-site. Mom called it “never being home.” Years of sun and sweat made his skin rough and dark. Mom, pampered with skincare products paid for by him, looked young and fresh. The work was brutal, but the pay was good. Dad handed every paycheck to Mom. After expenses and mortgage, they had saved $80,000 in eight years. Then my uncle needed a house and a dowry. Grandma called, spun a sob story, and Mom—saint that she was—wired him the entire savings. When Dad found out, he nearly had a stroke. Mom just said, “Money is worldly. Helping my brother is a good deed.” Dad literally coughed blood and passed out. When he woke up in the hospital, he realized Mom wasn’t a partner. From then on, he stopped giving her his savings. Just a fixed allowance. Mom knew she messed up, but she refused to apologize. She just endured the budget cuts. Life was quiet until Mom met Steve.

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Because my flight was delayed due to a storm, I missed my son’s birthday party by exactly thirty minutes. In retaliation, Caleb deleted every single research paper on my laptop. My son, Noah, smashed the limited-edition Lego set I had queued for three hours to buy him. Then, the father and son duo slammed the door and stormed out. In that moment, a wave of exhaustion washed over me. Suddenly, floating text comments—like a livestream chat—began scrolling across my vision. [Honestly, this is on the Female Lead. She promised these two possessive kings she’d be back on time. Being late triggers their abandonment issues.] [She better open that door and apologize to those poor boys right now! They even had the Polaroid ready for a cute family pic. She ruined the vibe.] [It just shows how much the Male Lead loves her. The kid clearly inherited his dad’s genes. She needs to be more patient and coax them!] [I’m melting for this father-son duo. Both the big one and the little one treat her like she’s their whole world. I stan!] [Omg, my baby boy’s eyes are red! This is so angsty! Auntie is coming with a colorful sack to kidnap you, boo-hoo!] I let out a soft sigh and started walking toward the door. Suddenly, the door swung open. Caleb looked at me with ice-cold eyes. “Since you love your job so much, maybe we should just get a divorce.” Noah stood in the hallway, refusing to step inside, his face void of emotion. “I hate you. I’m going with Daddy.” My breath hitched, a dull ache spreading through my chest. “Okay.” 1 My answer was a simple “okay,” but Caleb didn’t seem satisfied. If anything, he looked angrier. He kicked the suitcase I had just dragged in, grabbed Noah’s hand, and marched into the elevator without looking back. I walked into the bedroom and started packing. The floating comments went wild. [Let me in there! I need to explain for him! This Male Lead has zero communication skills. He just wanted her to go to dinner with them. Would it kill him to speak nicely?] [You can’t blame him! Remember he was abused by his alcoholic stepdad in high school? He only survived because the Female Lead saved him. He’s insecure! It’s normal for him to be afraid of losing her.] [Don’t worry guys, she won’t leave. These are the two men she loves most. Plus, if she leaves, the Male Lead literally won’t survive.] [She needs to go into the kitchen right now, cook an 8-course meal, and make a dozen phone calls to apologize. ASAP.] … I ignored the floating text. I continued packing while dialing my law school classmate’s number. I had lost count of how many times Caleb used Noah to stage these tantrums. The word “divorce” had become a punctuation mark in our daily lives. They would intentionally refuse to eat the dinner I cooked after a long shift. They would pour the warm milk I prepared down the sink. Once, Caleb even turned off my phone alarm, despite me emphasizing that I had a critical surgery the next morning. When I confronted him, he hugged Noah and looked at me with puppy-dog eyes. “He’s just a child. He just wanted his mom to stay home on a weekend.” I rushed to the hospital, glaring at him. “He didn’t know, but did you not know?” My phone had a passcode. Noah hadn’t even learned all his numbers yet. That night, when I came home, my luggage was thrown out into the hallway. Clean clothes from the closet, cosmetics from the vanity, medical books from the study… all in a heap. Noah blocked the doorway, crying and screaming, refusing to let me in. He said I was the worst mother in the world and that he wanted Auntie Chloe to be his mom. After six back-to-back surgeries, I was physically shattered. I crouched down, coaxing him patiently. “Let Mommy in first, okay? Mommy hasn’t eaten all day…” Bang. Caleb slammed the door in my face. They changed the passcode. I was locked out. When my best friend, Jess, came to pick me up, I was sitting amidst a pile of clothes, looking like a wreck. She pulled me up, furious. “There are plenty of guys who would kill to be with you, Lyra! Why are you taking this trash from him? I’m setting you up with ten high-quality men right now. What the hell is this?” That night, Caleb stood outside Jess’s door, holding a shivering Noah. It was a bitter winter night in Seattle. The wind cut like knives. Caleb knelt before me, eyes red, repenting. “Lyra, I’m sorry. I just love you too much. I don’t know why I lose control…” “You know that apart from you, no one in this world can tolerate my temper.” “You know that if you just coax me a little, my anger disappears.” Noah’s face was blue from the cold. He reached out to me. “Mommy, hug. Hug Noah. Noah won’t make Mommy angry anymore.” One was the man I had loved since high school. The other was the child I nearly died birthing. No one knew them better than I did. So, I chose to forgive. But the peace never lasted. Caleb continued to explode whenever things didn’t go his way. Sometimes a few soft words fixed it. Sometimes, like today, he threatened divorce. As Noah grew older, his personality began to mirror his father’s. And I… I was just tired. This time, I really wanted the divorce. 2 The apartment was filled with traces of me. The tableware in the kitchen, the mugs on the table, the photos on the wall… I had hand-picked everything. I didn’t know where to start packing, so I realized that everything I truly needed was already in the suitcase I had just brought back. I had been in New York at a top-tier hospital for a month-long exchange program. I finished everything at 3 PM today and ran to the airport, suitcase in tow. I even tripped and scraped my knee in the process. But the storm delayed the flight. I was thirty minutes late for Noah’s party. When I arrived, Caleb sat on the couch, face dark, interrogating me. “Why didn’t you buy an earlier ticket? Did you not check the weather?” “Do you even care about Noah? Do you care about me?” “Are we less important to you than a bunch of strangers?” Noah snatched the toy from my hand—the one I stood in line for three hours to get—and smashed it on the floor. Then he stomped on it, crushing the plastic bricks, crushing my heart. “I hate Mommy! You break promises! You’re late! Bad Mom! Bad Mom!” … Waiting for the elevator now, I unlocked my phone. I saw a post from Caleb’s childhood friend, Chloe—the “Auntie Chloe” Noah loved to mention. [Birthday vibes with the little prince! Noah, you have to be happy every day! You too…] Caleb’s devastatingly handsome side profile was caught in the frame. Next to him, Noah, with cream on his nose, was feeding a spoonful of cake to the person taking the photo. They were laughing, playing, and capturing memories. Compared to me… They looked more like a family of three. [Oh no, the Female Lead is definitely misunderstanding… The Male Lead is just forcing a smile. His phone is definitely on loud, waiting for her to call.] [Why does she look actually mad? Don’t torture me! My baby Noah is so young… he’s just more sensitive than other kids.] [Chloe is just a plot device, guys. She’s a test for their relationship. Life isn’t smooth sailing, wake up Female Lead!] [Exactly. Just go find them, apologize properly. This gloomy, possessive man loves you so much, he’ll forgive you.] … I tried calling Caleb. I wanted to tell him Noah had a magnet school interview tomorrow. Divorce is an adult problem; it shouldn’t affect a child’s education. The call connected and was immediately hung up. I called again. Blocked. I called Noah’s phone watch. The background noise was loud. It sounded like a karaoke room. “Caleb, bro, why are you fighting with Lyra again? Aren’t you scared she’ll actually divorce you?” Silence for about three seconds. Then, Caleb scoffed, his voice dripping with arrogance. “Divorce is just a leash I use on Lyra. It works every time.” “You guys know how hard she chased me in high school.” “We’ve been married for years. Every time I’m unhappy, she apologizes like her life depends on it.” “She can’t leave me.” Laughter erupted in the room. “I always wondered why I couldn’t get you even though we grew up together. Turns out, being a simp pays off,” Chloe’s voice chimed in, dismissive. “I didn’t expect Lyra to look so dignified but be such a doormat in private.” “Right? Back then she beat up Caleb’s stepdad for him. A total maniac.” “And when she had Noah, the doctors told her not to, but she risked her life just to ‘give Caleb a family.’ Hahaha!” … I gripped my phone so hard my knuckles turned white. The compromises I thought were sacrifices for love… in Caleb’s eyes, they were just proof of my servitude. He wasn’t acting out because of insecurity. He was acting out because he was entitled. He was certain I couldn’t leave. He thought he had me in the palm of his hand. 3 I rented a serviced apartment on the other side of the city. Fully furnished. Perfect for someone suddenly getting a divorce. The complex was full of young professionals. I remembered back in college, Caleb hated the cafeteria food. He would either starve or eat junk. He had a bad stomach, and he was wasting away. So, I rented a small off-campus kitchen. I cooked for him every day. Med school was brutal. During finals, I barely slept. But I still made three meals a day, begging him to eat. Back then, he ate every bite. Later, he started learning to cook for me. When I was stressed, he’d follow online tutorials to make soup. But after marriage, everything changed. Caleb would trash the meals I spent hours making. He wouldn’t allow me to prioritize anything over him. … It had been a long time since I lived alone. I realized a small one-bedroom apartment could be incredibly tidy. My time after work was mine again. I could eat what I wanted, read what I wanted, sleep when I wanted. I didn’t have to manage anyone else’s emotions. It felt strange, but I liked it. On the third day, a colleague saw me walking slowly to the parking garage. “Not rushing home today? Usually, you’re running before you’ve even changed your shoes.” I smiled. “Yeah. I can take my time now.” My colleague nodded vigorously. “Good! This job is lethal enough. If you have to deal with a mess at home too, it’s just torture.” Yeah. I had endured that torture for six years. Finally, I was free. That night, I got a call from Noah. He was screaming. “Stupid Mommy! Dumb Mommy! Bad Mommy! Why didn’t you take me to the interview?! Sasha got her new uniform and I got nothing!” “I don’t care! Come back and take me to the interview right now!” I paused. When Caleb hung up on me that day, I had texted his best friend, Mark. I explicitly asked Mark to remind Caleb about the interview. Plus, there was a blackboard by the front door where I wrote the month’s schedule. He had to have seen it. I called Mark. He stammered for a while before admitting Caleb hadn’t gone home for days. “I mentioned it to Caleb, but I don’t know if he listened. Plus, it was Noah’s birthday… he wanted to go to Disneyland. Caleb was hesitant, but Chloe convinced him.” “So they went…” “I see,” I said. Mark’s tone shifted to a lecture. “Lyra, honestly. Work is work, family is family. How could you not take him to the interview yourself? Even if Caleb blocked you, you should have double-checked. Noah is your son.” I cut him off. “He is also Caleb’s son.” I never believed parenting was solely the mother’s burden. The interview date was on the blackboard. Visible every single day. Why could I remember, but Caleb—despite reminders—couldn’t? “Lyra, you weren’t like this before. Caleb just cares about you too much, he has a bad mouth but a good heart. Stop fighting with him, come back and fix Noah’s school situation—” I hung up. Blocked. Different values don’t belong at the same table. In the world of crows, the swan is guilty of being white. 4 [It’s over. The Female Lead is actually mad. Being a mom means worrying more, okay? Our Caleb is basically a child himself, how can he take care of a kid?] [Exactly. Whenever the Female Lead is around, the Male Lead’s IQ drops because he trusts her too much. He only blocked her for one night!] [The Male Lead is just awkward and sensitive. If she doesn’t go back to save him, he’s going to close off his heart again. So sad…] [Does she not want her husband or son? You can’t take a child’s tantrums seriously. She’s being selfish.] [Are the people above me insane? Nobody feels bad for her? She has a career and dreams. Why should she revolve around those two idiots?] Exactly. Why should I revolve around him? The meaning of love shouldn’t be “salvation.” It shouldn’t be about my utility to him. It should be about mutual growth. About standing side by side, weathering storms and enjoying the sunshine together. But Caleb… Did you ever want me to grow? In recent years, there wasn’t a single moment where I saw a future for us. … Two days later. The Emergency Room. Seattle was hit by a massive storm. The ER was flooded with car accident victims. I had just finished stabilizing a critical patient when chaos erupted near the nurse’s station. I wiped blood from my scrubs and looked over. It was Caleb and his entourage. Chloe was in a wheelchair. Little Noah stood beside her, pouting, holding her hand tightly. “I’m warning you, treat her right now or I’m calling the superintendent!” “Sir, please, just wait your turn based on the number—” The nurse was trying to reason with him while triaging a patient with a high fever. “Cut the crap! My friend fell down the stairs and her knee is bleeding! Get your best doctor here now!” Caleb interrupted her, arrogant and loud. “Or I’ll make sure you all lose your jobs!” After graduation, Caleb rode the AI wave and government grants to build a tech fortune. He certainly had the connections to make life hard for us grassroots medical workers. I just never thought the boy who came from nothing would one day use his privilege to oppress others. “Dr. Lyra is here!” A nurse spotted me just as she was about to call security. The noise died down instantly. Everyone turned to look at me. Chloe’s expression shifted from calm to agonizing pain in a split second. Caleb glanced at me, his tone commanding. “I demand you treat Chloe immediately. Aren’t you supposed to be ‘dedicated’?” One of his friends looked awkward. “Caleb… we just finished dinner. Chloe missed a step and scraped her knee…” A nurse ran to me. “Dr. Lyra, her vitals are stable. BP is normal. But they want to cut the line.” I checked Chloe’s injury. A scrape. “Hospital policy,” I said professionally. “Only critical patients cut the line. Ms. Xu has no chest pain, no difficulty breathing, and stable vitals. She does not qualify.” “Lyra, is this necessary?” Chloe looked up, tears brimming. “I know you hate me. I’ve been keeping Noah company because he’s sad. I only fell because I was worried he’d run into traffic…” “Ms. Xu, the cause of the injury does not determine triage priority—” “You’re just an old witch! You want to hurt Auntie Chloe!” Noah charged out of nowhere, ramming his head into my stomach. “I won’t let anyone hurt my favorite Auntie Chloe!” I stumbled back, nearly falling. “Noah, come here! We’re changing hospitals.” Caleb scooped Chloe up in his arms and marched toward the exit. “This isn’t the only hospital in town. I’m filing a complaint against everyone here. Including you.” He glared at me coldly. Chloe buried her face in his chest, looking shy and protected. Behind me, the whispers started. “That’s Dr. Lyra’s husband? Zero class.” “Dr. Lyra is so nice, how did she end up with trash like that?” “He seems legally illiterate. I think Dr. Lyra got scammed.” “That kid is her son? Yikes.” I lowered my eyes and smiled bitterly. A heavy weight pressed on my chest. This was the choice I fought for years ago. Now, I was paying the bill. I didn’t regret my decisions. I just needed to reflect on my judgment of character. There was nothing wrong with my sincerity or kindness. The problem wasn’t me. It was Caleb. The floating text returned. [The Female Lead is blind! He’s putting on a show for her! Can’t she see?] [He mentioned divorce to save her face at the hospital! I’m crying for this misunderstood love!] [I hate it when characters don’t communicate! Just apologize! He’ll run back like a puppy!] [Lyra, think about how much he suffered as a kid! Have a heart!] [I’m having a heart attack. Does she really think he likes Chloe? If she just coaxes our Caleb, he won’t look at another woman.] [Are these comments bots? I’m a VIP reader, not an idiot! He needs a slap, not a hug.]

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My dad’s secretary accused me of knocking over her expensive perfume. Dad’s face was cold. “Since the kid messed up, let the mother take the punishment.” He shoved my mom into the giant porcelain jar in the corner of the living room. I stood on my tiptoes, trying to reach the rim, but it was too high. From inside, I heard Mom humming softly, just like she used to when she tucked me in. I cried, slapping the cold ceramic. “Mommy! Cici can’t reach you! Cici is sorry!” “Your mom isn’t coming out to play the victim herself, so she taught you to use a sob story?” Dad sneered. “Fine. Let her stay in there a few more days!” Dad and his secretary laughed in the living room, their glasses clinking together. Ding-ding-dang-dang. It sounded like Mom’s wind chimes. The humming inside the jar got quieter and quieter until all that was left was the sound of dripping. Drip. Drip. Three days later, the police smashed the jar open. Everyone recoiled in horror. Dad walked in, his arm around his secretary’s waist. Her belly was round, like she’d swallowed a beach ball. “Where’s your mother? Still playing the victim?” Dad asked. I looked down at the red puddle at the bottom of the shattered jar and whispered: “Daddy, Mommy broke.” 1 When Grandma and Grandpa came knocking, I was on my knees with a rag, trying to wipe up the red water seeping from the bottom of the jar. Grandma covered her nose. “Cici, where are your parents? Why does it smell so bad in here?” I pointed a small finger at the giant porcelain jar. “Mommy is sleeping in there.” Grandpa’s face turned gray. He walked over, but the moment his hand touched the rim, he yanked it back like he’d been burned. “This jar…” Grandpa’s voice trembled. Grandma snatched me up, her nails digging into my arm. “Who put your mother in there?” “Daddy,” I mumbled, staring at my shoes. “He said Cici was bad, so Mommy had to take responsibility.” Grandpa grabbed a crowbar to pry the lid off. The screws popped one by one—snap, snap—sounding just like when Mom used to unwrap candy for me. When the lid finally came off, Grandma screamed and stumbled backward. I stood on my tiptoes to peek inside. Mom was curled up at the bottom, soaked through, like a ragdoll left out in the rain. Her white dress had turned pink. Her fingers were pruned and wrinkled, and her nails were packed with porcelain shards. “Why isn’t Mommy waking up?” I reached out to touch her. Grandma slapped my hand away and pulled me into a crushing hug. Her heart was beating so fast it hurt my ears. “Oh God… oh God…” Grandpa fell to his knees, retching over the side of the jar. When the police officers arrived, they covered Mom with a white sheet. They asked me questions, but I just stared at the red stain left at the bottom of the jar. “When will Mommy dry out?” I asked the nice officer. “Once the water dries, she’ll wake up, right?” The officer’s eyes turned red. Grandma, hands shaking, dialed Dad’s number. “You animal! Get your ass back here! Your wife…” Dad’s laughter crackled through the phone. “Mom, cut the act. Is Sarah trying to guilt-trip me into coming back? Tell her playing dead won’t work.” In the background, I heard the secretary’s whiny voice: “Ken, baby, I want strawberries…” “Your wife is really dead! She’s in that jar!” Grandpa snatched the phone and roared. “Dad, why are you playing along with her nonsense?” Dad’s voice turned icy. “There are air holes at the bottom. A couple of days won’t kill her. Let her reflect. When she learns to raise our kid right, she can come out.” The line went dead. When the coroner tried to take Mom away, I clung to the jar, refusing to let go. “Don’t take her!” I screamed, tears streaming down my face. “Mommy just needs to dry out! Last time my doll got wet, Mommy used the hairdryer…” Grandma pried my fingers loose. Her tears fell on my face, hot and stinging. “Cici, baby… Mommy… Mommy went to the sky to be a star.” I looked out the window. It wasn’t dark yet. No stars. “Then when is she coming home?” No one answered. A police officer picked up a small bottle from the jar. It had a skull and crossbones on the label. “Preliminary assessment suggests a strong alkaline solution caused…” Grandma lunged for the bottle. “It’s that slut! That’s the perfume she sprays every day!” Grandpa held her back, his eyes bloodshot. “Just wait until that animal gets back…” I crouched on the floor, picking up the porcelain shards that had fallen from Mom’s fingernails. One piece, two pieces, three pieces… If I glue them back together, Mommy will come home, right? 2 The night the relatives took Mom away, Dad finally called back. Grandma answered with red, swollen eyes. Before she could speak, Dad’s impatient voice cut through. “Mom, are you done with the drama?” “Your wife is dead!” Grandma’s voice was raspy. “The coroner said she was suffocated and burned alive…” “Enough.” Dad cut her off. “I was just joking around. I let her out ages ago. She’s hiding because she’s jealous of Jenny, isn’t she?” A woman’s giggle floated through the phone, like nails on a chalkboard. “Ken, is Sarah still mad at me?” Dad’s voice instantly turned tender. “Ignore her. Just throwing a tantrum.” I stood on my toes, trying to reach the phone. “Daddy, Mommy melted in the jar. She…” “Shut up!” Dad yelled at me. “Learning to lie at your age? Your mother taught you this!” He hung up. Grandma held me and wept. Her tears hit my neck, hotter than boiling water. The next day, Dad’s secretary, Jenny, showed up. She was wearing Mom’s favorite lavender dress. Her high heels clacked on the floor, sounding like knives scraping bone. “Ken sent me to get some files.” She smiled and touched my head. “Cici, you’ve grown.” I hid behind Grandma. This lady smelled sweet, exactly like the smell that drifted out of the jar at the end. Grandma blocked the bedroom door. “Get out!” Jenny didn’t get mad. Instead, she pulled a fancy candy box from her bag. “Cici, your daddy asked me to give this to you.” Inside were colorful star-shaped candies, just like the ones Mom used to buy. “When is Daddy coming home?” I whispered. “When your mommy admits she was wrong.” She crouched down, her perfume overwhelming me. “Cici, do you want a little brother?” Grandma slapped the candy box out of her hand and shoved Jenny toward the door. “Monster! You pair of monsters!” That night, Dad called again. “Mom, send Cici over to stay for a few days.” His voice was cold. “I need to personally teach her what honesty means.” Grandma hugged me tight. “Over my dead body!” “Don’t force my hand.” Dad paused. “Don’t forget, the deed to the old house is in my name.” After the call, Grandma wouldn’t stop shaking. She stroked my face. “Cici, don’t be scared. Grandma is here.” But I knew Grandma was terrified. When she packed my bag, her hands shook so bad she couldn’t even button my shirt. The next morning, Dad sent people to pick me up. They locked Grandma in her room so she couldn’t follow. In the black sedan, Jenny hugged me a little too tightly. “Cici, you’re going to have a little brother soon. Aren’t you happy?” I fiddled with the hem of my dress. “When is Mommy coming home?” “Your mommy doesn’t want you anymore.” She whispered in my ear. “She ran off with another man. That’s why she made you lie about the jar.” The car pulled up to a big, beautiful house. Dad stood at the door, his gaze colder than the winter wind. “Do you know what you did wrong?” he asked. I shook my head. “Mommy really melted in the jar.” Dad’s face turned scary. He dragged me to the basement, with Jenny giggling behind us. The basement was filled with glass cases containing preserved animals. “Do you know why they’re here?” Dad pointed to a white rabbit specimen. “Because they loved to lie.” Jenny handed him a syringe. “Ken, kids need discipline. One shot and she’ll behave.” I scrambled backward, my back hitting the cold glass case. “Last chance,” Dad said, watching Jenny raise the needle. “Where is your mother?” “In the jar…” My tears hit the floor. “Mommy really melted in the jar…” As the needle pierced my skin, I saw Jenny rubbing her belly, smiling at me. “When your little brother is born, we’ll let your mommy come back, okay?” But Grandma said Mommy wasn’t coming back. 3 The moment the liquid from the syringe entered my vein, my eyelids felt heavy as lead. Dad carried me to the sofa, gently combing my hair with his fingers. He hadn’t touched me like this in a long time. The last time was when I had a fever; Mom held me all night while Dad sat by the bed reading stories. “Cici, be a good girl. Just sleep, and it’ll be okay.” His voice was gentle, like the old Daddy. I fought to keep my eyes open. “Daddy… Mommy really…” His fingers suddenly clamped onto my jaw. “Still lying?” Dad’s smile vanished instantly. “Where is she hiding? Did she teach you to say these lies?” It hurt so much I cried, but I didn’t dare make a sound. Dad hated crying. Jenny walked over with warm milk. “Ken, don’t be mad. Kids need patience.” She held the milk to my lips. The sweet, cloying smell reminded me of the scent drifting from the jar. I clamped my mouth shut. Milk spilled onto my pajamas, hot and sticky against my skin. “Disobedient!” Dad suddenly grabbed my left hand and slammed it onto the coffee table. “Which hand knocked over the perfume? This one?” Click. His lighter flared. The blue flame licked my fingertips. I screamed in agony, but Dad clamped his hand over my mouth. His palm smelled faintly of tobacco. I used to love that smell. “Shhh…” He whispered in my ear. “Cici is brave, right? It’s just a burn. Better than the lies your mother taught you.” Jenny giggled nearby. “Ken, you’re so strict.” My finger bubbled up, like the skin on the porridge Mom used to make when it cooled down. Dad let go and pulled a velvet box from the drawer. “I was going to give this to you for your birthday.” He opened it to reveal a silver bracelet. “But you can have it early.” I curled into the corner of the sofa, terrified to move. “Hand.” Dad commanded. When he snapped the bracelet on, pain shot through me. The inside was lined with tiny steel spikes. With every pulse of my wrist, they dug deeper into my flesh. “I had this custom-made.” He stroked my face. “Every time you lie, it digs deeper.” Drops of blood trickled down the silver chain, blooming like small red flowers on the beige sofa. Jenny frowned suddenly. “Ken, she doesn’t look right…” Dad finally noticed my lips were turning purple. He ripped open my collar. The area around the injection site had turned a terrifying grey-blue. “What did you give her?” Dad roared, grabbing Jenny by the collar. “J-Just a normal sedative…” Jenny’s face went pale. “Maybe… maybe it reacted with the milk…” As Dad scooped me up and ran out the door, I heard Jenny screaming, “Ken! My baby…” The emergency room lights were blinding. The doctor said ten more minutes and my heart would have stopped. Dad held my hand the whole time. His hand was shaking. “Cici, Daddy didn’t mean to.” His eyes were red. “Just admit you lied, and Daddy will take you home right now.” I stared at the fluorescent lights on the ceiling. They looked like Mom’s eyes in the end. “Daddy…” I whispered. “When Mommy was in the jar… did it hurt this much too?” His hand went limp. 4 The hospital smelled like harsh chemicals. Dad sat by the bed peeling an apple. The skin spiraled down in one long strip, like the scarves Mom used to knit for me. “Cici,” he sliced the apple into small chunks. “When your brother is born, Daddy will let your mom take care of him…” I stared at the IV needle in the back of my hand. “Mommy doesn’t want a brother.” “Nonsense!” Dad pinched my chin. “Why are you such a liar now? Did she ruin you that much?” Before he could finish, the door swung open. Two police officers walked in. One was holding a clear evidence bag containing the perfume bottle Grandma found in the jar. “Mr. Sterling, we need to talk.” The officer’s face was grim. “About your wife’s death.” Dad froze, unable to process it. “What?” The officer placed a tablet on the bedside table. On the screen was a paused video. The date stamp was the night Mom was put in the jar. In the video, Jenny was sneaking around the jar, pouring something from the perfume bottle into the air holes. “According to the coroner’s report,” the officer pointed at the screen, “The deceased had traces of strong alkaline corrosion in her trachea, consistent with the contents of this bottle.” The officer pulled out another bag containing shreds of lavender fabric found in Mom’s grip. “Fibers found under the victim’s fingernails match the brand frequently worn by the suspect.” Dad laughed abruptly. A manic sound. “Ridiculous! How much did Sarah pay you? Even the cops are in on her skit?” He snatched the tablet and smashed it on the floor. The screen spiderwebbed. Dad spun around and pointed a shaking finger at me. “Did your mom put you up to this? Using the police to scare me?” His eyes were terrifyingly red, like a cornered beast. The officer stepped between us. “The child needs rest. Please come to the station to assist with the investigation.” “Assist my ass!” Dad loosened his tie. “I’m going to find Sarah right now and show you all who the liar is!” He stormed out, nearly colliding with Jenny, who was running in panicked. “Ken! Why are they looking for me…” She froze when she saw the police. The officer flashed his badge. “Ms. Jenny Miller, please come with us.” Jenny went white. She grabbed Dad’s arm. “Ken! I’m carrying your son!” Dad instinctively comforted her. “Don’t be scared. I’ll find that woman!” The room fell silent. I looked out the window at a passing cloud. Mom said when people die, they become clouds. The officer crouched down and gently held my bandaged hand. “Cici, your mom…” “I know,” I pointed at the cloud. “Mommy is right there.” The officer’s eyes welled up. He patted my head and pulled a phone from his briefcase. “We found this at the bottom of the jar. It was your mom’s.” The screen was cracked, but it still lit up. The wallpaper was a photo of Mom and me. She was hugging me, smiling so gently. The officer opened the call log. The last call was to Dad. Duration: 3 minutes and 27 seconds. It was the night she was put in the jar. I suddenly remembered the humming and the dripping sounds from the jar. That wasn’t Mom singing. That was the sound coming from Dad’s phone after he answered—Jenny’s giggles and their intimate noises, playing through the speaker into the jar. The officer opened the messages. The last text sent to Dad: [The air holes are blocked. Help me.] Sent: 2:17 AM. Unread. No reply. Dad snatched the phone. Staring at the message, his eyes looked like they were going to bleed. His face drained of all color. He nearly collapsed. “No, this is impossible…”

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After being the “backup girlfriend” to the school’s notorious bad boy for a year, I still didn’t get promoted to the main role. He chose the “good girl” instead. Over the phone, he dragged out his words, his tone dripping with mockery: “Sorry, Luna. Compared to Chloe, you’re just too cheap.” Everyone bet I would throw a tantrum. Or maybe go full psycho, get jealous, and tear the good girl apart. But I just said, “Oh.” I hung up and continued booking my flight for studying abroad. No one knew the truth: I only got close to Jax to hide from a creepy stalker who had been obsessing over me. Graduation was here. The act was over. But later, Jax flew through a dozen countries just to corner me at an airport, eyes red and desperate. “Luna, were you just using me as a tool from the very beginning?” 1 It was pouring rain on graduation day. Jax invited me to a party, but I didn’t go. So, they decided to livestream it just for me. Everyone was there on camera. When they heard I wasn’t coming, the mood shifted. “Wait, wasn’t today the day he picks between her and Chloe? I was waiting for the drama. What’s up with Luna?” “Probably realized Jax would never pick her. She’s probably crying in a bathroom somewhere.” “LMAO. The simp finally realized she’s unworthy. I knew she’d crack.” For the past year, my desperate pursuit of Jax had been the school’s favorite joke. The camera zoomed in on Jax’s face. He looked bored. Sitting next to him was Chloe, the quintessential “good girl” everyone thought was perfect for him. Jax grabbed her chin. “Since Luna forfeited, you’re my girlfriend now. The only one who gets to kiss me.” The room erupted in cheers. Chloe’s face turned bright red. She looked down, acting shy, whispering, “Stop it.” Jax leaned in to kiss her, but someone interrupted. “Luna isn’t ugly though. Why didn’t you pick her, Jax?” “Yeah, I remember you walked her home a bunch of times. Bought her Christmas gifts too.” “But she was so desperate. She practically begged for it, right, Jax?” Jax paused. Then he scoffed. “Obviously.” Chloe, ears still burning, pouted. “Exactly. And Luna looks so… needy. Who knows how many guys she’s been with? She’s probably not even clean.” After she said that, everyone laughed. “Maybe I’ll chase her next week. See if I can hit it. She’s hot enough. You mind, Jax?” Jax took a sip of his drink, unbothered. “Why would I mind?” His gaze drifted toward the camera lens. After a few seconds of silence, he picked up his phone and dialed. “Hello, Luna.” The moment I picked up, the mocking laughter pierced my eardrums. “Gotta say it to her face for it to count.” “Yo, put it on speaker! I wanna hear if she cries loud.” “Hahaha, bet. Let me record this.” I didn’t say anything. I just heard Jax’s lazy, drawling voice. Every word was precise. “Luna, look. It’s like this.” “It’s a shame, really. But you’re just too cheap. Too easy. I like girls like Chloe. Innocent.” “So…” “Oh,” I said. I cut him off. Before he could continue, I hung up. 2 I was standing by the window, booking a flight for two days later. After hanging up, I confirmed the time and arrival airport. I stared at the ticket confirmation and exhaled deeply. I watched the livestream. Notifications kept popping up on my phone from classmates. It was hard to ignore. Jax was the school’s untouchable bad boy. When he played basketball, the way his muscles flexed made every girl squeal. They admired him but feared him. No one dared to approach him. Except me. Starting senior year, I “shamelessly” began chasing Jax. I waited for him after school, intercepted him at the gate. By the third week, Jax finally acknowledged my existence. Right after me, the second pursuer appeared: Chloe. Obviously, Jax preferred her type. I ran three blocks to buy Jax his favorite sports drink. He took one sip. Chloe bought a random water from the vending machine. She handed it to him, blushing. He put it on his desk and stared at it all afternoon like it was gold. I waited two hours at the basketball court for Jax. Chloe already had his number. She walked over with him, giggling every step of the way. When she saw me, she covered her mouth. “Jax, is that the girl everyone says is harassing you?” Jax looked at me. That was the first time he looked me in the eye and spoke to me. “Her? She’s not half as cute as you.” But even then, I didn’t give up. After three months of effort, I finally secured the position of Jax’s “Backup Girlfriend.” “Whenever you need me, I’ll do anything. I won’t cling to you. It’s all one-sided on my part.” I kept my head down, standing in front of him. He raised an eyebrow, his gaze a mix of amusement and disgust. “Really? Are you that desperate?” I still didn’t look up. I clenched my teeth. “Yes. All I want is to be around you more.” Jax scoffed. “Interesting.” He walked away. But luckily, after that, everyone knew about my ambiguous relationship with Jax. He’d walk with Chloe, then call me to bring them food. Sometimes when he played ball alone, he’d call me to fetch the rebounds. Classmates couldn’t figure out who he actually liked. When asked, Jax smiled openly. “I don’t date. They both know that.” So I was a backup. Chloe was too. The only difference was that Jax promised Chloe a “status” after graduation. The rumor spread that it was a choice between me and her. Without any suspense, I was destined to be the punchline. But honestly? I never took it seriously. A notification popped up: Jax’s official Instagram post. He tagged me specifically. The photo was a side profile of him kissing Chloe. I didn’t look closely. I just noticed a familiar name in the stream of “Congrats” comments. Seth: [Congrats] I grimaced, a mix of disgust and lingering fear. I should thank Jax. If not for his terrifying reputation, I don’t know how many times that creepy stalker Seth would have tried something. 3 Back in the private room. After the call ended, Jax hadn’t spoken a word. People were whispering. “What did Luna say? Did you hear?” “She just said ‘Oh’.” “No way. Seriously? No reaction? She used to run miles for him. She’d go for night runs at 2 AM if he called. How could she not care?” “I bet the shock was too big. She’s probably stunned.” At the table, people were toasting Jax and Chloe. Jax zoned out several times. He just smirked and gave noncommittal answers, scrolling through his phone. He refreshed his feed. No comment from Luna. No message. Jax’s eyes darkened. Nobody understood Luna like he did. He knew that her tone just now was flat. Emotionless. Like she heard news that had nothing to do with her. But why? Usually, she’d be ecstatic just to see him. Why did she hang up first? Suddenly, Chloe’s best friend stood up, pouring wine indignantly. “Ideally, you guys should have been together ages ago. It’s all because of someone who loves being the third wheel, ruining the vibe. So cheap. Right, Chloe?” Chloe bit her lip shyly. She nodded. “I can’t blame her. Even though Jax liked me back then, she probably thought she had a chance.” “Well, I don’t care. She better not cling to Jax anymore. Can we beat her up first before blocking her?” Chloe giggled. “Violence is too mean! Jax just needs to block her.” She turned to grab Jax’s phone. But her hand was pinned down. “What are you doing?” Jax stared at her, eyes cold. Chloe froze. She’d seen Jax angry before; it was never pretty. She swallowed her words. “N-nothing…” Her eyes turned red, tears welling up. Jax acted like he didn’t see it. He stood up. “You guys have fun. I’m leaving.” He grabbed his jacket and walked out. Chloe sat there, stunned. Outside, Jax stared at his phone for a long time. He looked up at the moon, took a deep breath, and opened the chat with Luna. [Usually you’re desperate to stick to me. Are you dead today?] [Just because I’m official doesn’t mean we can’t be friends. Don’t be too sad. Come out, I’ll comfort you. You have 30 minutes.] 4 I slept for 14 hours straight at home. Graduation meant no more classes, exams, or studying. I felt like my soul left my body the moment I hit the mattress. When I woke up, it was dusk. My dad called to remind me to pack for my trip. “Most importantly, the recommendation letter. Don’t lose it.” I scrambled up. “Yes, yes, I know.” After packing, I checked my phone. Messages flooded the screen. My throat tightened instantly. Unknown number. I recognized Seth immediately. [Can I come to your house tonight?] [Can you leave the window open? Your security guard pulled my arm really hard last time. It hurt for days. But I was happy because you looked at me.] [Jax has a girlfriend now. You shouldn’t waste time on him. He won’t stop us anymore.] [I heard you’re planning to go to NYU, right? I’ll rent a place near your dorm.] … I scrolled down. My jaw clenched uncontrollably. I was shaking. Seth. The most invisible guy in the class next door. The reason I got close to Jax. He noticed me in sophomore year. The scariest part? It wasn’t until junior year that I realized someone had been following me for a whole year. He mimicked my habits. He found out my likes. He sent me love letters written during his nightly fantasies about me. My desk was always missing a used eraser, an opened pack of tissues, a half-drunk water bottle. Every time I realized it, I went numb. The moment my instincts screamed the loudest was that one time. I turned around on the street. I saw him. He was rushing toward me, like he was about to pounce. “What are you doing?!” He snapped out of it and smiled, a痴痴 (obsessive/foolish) grin. “Nothing. Just looking at you.” Later, he followed me home. He even climbed through my window at night. We called the cops, but he kept following me like a ghost. Then I became Jax’s backup. He backed off for a year, afraid to offend Jax. Now he was back. Luckily, I graduated. I was leaving the country. NYU was just a smokescreen. Thinking about this, I relaxed my tense nerves. I booked a hotel immediately. My flight was in two days. I needed to hide. Unexpectedly, that night, I ran into Jax at a convenience store nearby. And Chloe. He was staring at his phone. Until we bumped into each other. He looked stunned. “Luna?” I ignored him. I turned to leave. But then I saw a familiar shadow in the distance. Standing in the dark, staring unblinkingly at me. Goosebumps exploded all over my body. I spun around and grabbed Jax’s sleeve. “Where are you going? Can I come?” Chloe froze. Her eyes reddened instantly. She gripped Jax’s hand. “Luna, Jax and I are together now. Can you please stop?” “Jax, ignore her! I’m your girlfriend. She can’t steal you!” Jax stared at me. He didn’t say anything. After two seconds, he scoffed. “Luna, what’s with the drama? I said 30 minutes. You forgot, didn’t you?” 30 minutes? I was confused. I had heard countdowns like that a million times. “Be here in 30 minutes or you’re fired as the backup.” “Five minutes. If you’re late, I’m blocking you.” … In that moment, fear consumed me. I clung to Jax. Almost begging: “I apologize for being late. Just this last time! Can I stay by your side for a bit?” The next second, Chloe burst into tears, and my hand was forcefully ripped away. Jax looked indifferent, yet amused. He laughed. “Luna, I thought you ignoring my messages meant you had some backbone.” “Didn’t expect you to be this cheap. Can’t live without a man? I look down on you.”

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After caring for my paralyzed husband for over a decade and giving him a dignified funeral, I took our yellowed marriage certificate to claim his inheritance. But the clerk told me the certificate was a fake. My husband’s legal spouse was someone else. My cousin, who had lived in my house for over thirty years, smugly pulled out her own marriage certificate: “Look closely. I am Richard’s legal wife!” Furious, I lunged at her. But my adopted son blocked me. “My parents took pity on you because you were childless and let you be our housekeeper. Now you want to steal my dad’s inheritance? Have you no shame?” Enraged, I slapped him. “If you hadn’t demanded to go play by the river back then, my son wouldn’t have drowned!” My cousin laughed maniacally. “If your son hadn’t died, how would you have willingly raised mine?” The rage was too much. I died on the spot. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day of the flood. Richard had locked me in the house to stop me from saving my son. 1 “What? You let Andy take your war buddy’s orphan to play by the river? Don’t you know Andy can’t swim? The river has been flooding lately, didn’t you know?!” My voice was shrill as I screamed at Richard. Under his surprised gaze, I turned to leave. “I don’t trust two kids by the river alone. I’m going to get them!” Before I could reach the door, Richard grabbed my arm. “When I came back, they were having fun. Don’t be a buzzkill.” “Country kids grow up in the mountains and rivers. You’re just being dramatic, trying to keep the boy locked up inside!” “Every kid in town is like this. If you can’t raise him right, I’ll take him to the city! You’ll never see him again!” His words were exactly the same as in my past life. Back then, terrified he would take my son away, I listened to him. I hesitated. That hesitation cost my six-year-old son his life. He was swept away by the flood, his body found a day later by villagers downstream. I could never forget his wet, pale body, cold and stiff in my arms. Every night, I saw him in my dreams, reaching out, crying, “Mommy, save me!” My heart felt pierced by a thousand blades. But my husband, snoring beside me, complained my crying was annoying. He said my grief made him and his adopted son, Jacob, look heartless. He said Andy’s death was just an accident, and my crying was just guilt-tripping them. Because of him, I only dared to cry in secret. The stress caused me to miscarry my four-month-old baby, plunging me deeper into despair. Thinking of this, I struggled against Richard’s grip. My cousin, Linda, blocked the door. “Cousin, kids need to be tough! There are tons of kids by the river, nobody else is drowning! Relax!” I bit my lip. “Andy is small. And Jacob—he’s your buddy’s only son. Aren’t you worried?” Richard tightened his grip. “Jacob is smart, don’t worry about him! You’re pregnant, stop running around! Linda rarely visits, go cook something nice for her!” I stared at Richard. Why was he stopping me? In my past life, they never blocked me like this. A chill ran down my spine. Did they come back too? Even tigers don’t eat their cubs. In the past life, it might have been an accident. This time, they were plotting murder! Any minute now, the flash flood would hit. If I didn’t go now, it would be too late! I dug my nails into my palm to stay calm. I couldn’t let them know I knew. Or they might kill me and my unborn child right here. These two had no conscience. Richard used a fake marriage certificate to enslave me for forty years. I cared for his senile parents, raised his son, and tended to him when he was paralyzed. And in the end? He left me homeless and penniless. Now, he wanted to kill my son again so I would continue to be their beast of burden? Rage boiled in my chest, but I forced my body not to shake. “I’m just going to get some vegetables. We’re out of meat, and I ate the eggs. I’ll go borrow some from Mrs. Miller next door!” Linda stopped me immediately. “No need, Cousin! I rarely visit, don’t spend money on me. I’ll eat anything!” Richard’s face darkened. “I’ll go. You rest.” 2 As he walked to the door, Linda followed, her voice dripping with sweetness. “Cousin, I’ll go with you!” Watching them leave together, intimate and shameless. I hated my past self for being so blind. I had seen them being close but thought, they’re cousins. I never suspected a thing. Once their footsteps faded, I rushed to the door. It wouldn’t open. Through the crack, I saw a padlock on the latch. My heart turned to ice. He really wasn’t giving me a chance. Hearing footsteps outside, I yelled to passing kids, asking if they’d seen my son. They told me Andy wanted to come home, but the new kid wouldn’t let him leave. Now, it was almost dark. Only Andy and his new “friend” were left by the river. Cold sweat dripped down my forehead. Richard was so confident leaving Jacob there. Did all three of them come back? If so, my six-year-old didn’t stand a chance against a thirty-something soul in a child’s body. Jacob would throw him in. I begged the kids to find Richard at Mrs. Miller’s. It was a few minutes away. I waited half an hour. I even started the rice cooker. No Richard. I sent villagers twice more. Finally, Richard and Linda returned, laughing, holding a few eggs. Richard explained casually under my furious gaze, “Habit. I locked it without thinking. Got talking with Mrs. Miller’s son. You don’t go out anyway.” Seeing their lingering smiles, my panic subsided. I asked calmly, “It’s getting dark. They aren’t back. Should we look for them?” Richard glanced at the sky. “It’s fine. Boys need to build guts.” Linda smiled. “Cousin, kids love to play. Don’t worry.” I looked them deep in the eyes. “Richard, Jacob is your buddy’s orphan. You’re not worried at all?” Richard paused, then relaxed. “Jacob is a big boy. He can take care of himself!” I said flatly, “Fine. Not my kid, not my problem.” They didn’t know I had already sent my brother to fetch Andy and take him to his house. The only kid by the river now was Jacob. Let’s see if his luck holds up in this life! 3 “Flood! Flash flood by the river! Get your kids and livestock!” The village chief’s gong clanged from the edge of town. I stood up abruptly. “The kids aren’t back! Richard, go find them!” Richard and Linda frowned but didn’t move. “Why are you panicking? It’s water. Kids can run.” I sneered internally. They were so sure my son was the one dying. Seeing me anxious, Richard pushed me down. “Sit. You’re pregnant. I’ll go.” I feigned worry and followed him to the village entrance. Villagers heard my kids were still out and offered to help search. Richard walked slowly. “My boys are smart. Thanks, but you guys go do your work. They’re fine!” The villagers were annoyed. “Last year, grown men got swept away! It’s dark! Hurry up!” I sped up. Suddenly, Linda “tripped” into me, knocking me down. She clutched her stomach, looking pale. Richard roared at me. “What are you doing?! Help her home! She’s frail! If anything happens to her, it’s on you!” I froze. “What about the kids?” “What can happen? I’ll call them!” I had to help Linda home. Passing my brother’s house, I saw him holding my sleeping son. Tears welled up. Near my house, I ran into Richard. “Why didn’t you look for them?” I demanded. “They’re big boys! I shouted, they’ll hear me. Linda is in pain, I have to prioritize!” I sneered and walked home. In the distance, the roar of the flood grew louder. Screams erupted from the other side of the village. People were running toward my house. The fastest runner arrived, gasping. “Sarah! A kid got swept away! Go check if it’s yours! The chief is organizing a rescue!” “What?” Richard and Linda gasped. But their faces held barely concealed joy. I stayed calm. I hoped they’d keep smiling when they found out who it was. Jacob might be reborn, but he was in a child’s body. He couldn’t outrun a flash flood. I stammered, “Impossible! It can’t be Andy! Richard called them back!” Richard chimed in, “Yeah, can’t be my son! You made a mistake!” He added, “I want to help rescue, but I have a pregnant wife and a sick guest. I can’t leave!” The villager scratched his head. “But… they said the kid was wearing green. Only Andy wears green.” Richard and Linda’s smiles widened. Linda looked at me with mock pity. Richard pretended to panic. “Impossible! Andy is smart!” I shrieked, “Definitely not Andy! Wait, Richard, didn’t you bring your buddy’s orphan? Could it be…” “Impossible!” Linda snapped. “Jacob is wearing blue! Only Andy wears green!” 4 I nodded. “If you say so!” Raising Jacob for thirty years, I knew his vanity. Richard made Jacob wear tattered clothes to gain sympathy. But Andy had new clothes. Certain Andy would die, Jacob must have stolen Andy’s clothes beforehand. Watching their smug faces, I smiled. “I’ll go make eggs. Andy loves scrambled eggs!” Just as I entered the kitchen, another messenger arrived. “Sarah! Your kid was pulled out! They did CPR but he needs a hospital! You have the only bike, go now! Or it’ll be too late!” “What? How could it be my kid?” I cried, urging Richard. “Ride the bike! Save him!” Under public pressure, Richard wheeled out the bike. Linda insisted on going. She hopped on the back, claiming she knew first aid. Watching them leave, I walked to my brother’s house. Seeing the little boy who haunted my dreams in my past life, safe and sound, I wept.

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The summer after my freshman year of college, my boss at the shady motel where I worked secretly took naked photos of me. My mom forced me to settle with him. She said, “He’s already seen you naked. Who knows if he has videos too?” “You might be shameless, but I still have a reputation. Your sister still has a reputation!” Tears filled my eyes but refused to fall. I looked at her, stunned. “What if this happened to Lily?” 1 Before I could finish, my mom slapped me across the face. Hard. Her face was purple with rage, her whole body shaking, as if my hypothetical question was a knife aimed directly at my little sister. “Don’t you dare curse your sister!” I knew exactly who my mother was, but hearing her say it still felt like a claw ripping through my chest. Before summer break started, the old security guard at my college, the one who fed the stray cats, died of heatstroke. The school announced emergency dorm renovations. We were kicked out. I texted my mom, asking for $25 so I could buy a bus ticket home. New York to Buffalo. Seven hours on a Greyhound. The cheapest ticket possible. $24.50. She refused instantly. “Where are we supposed to get money? Can’t you be more frugal?” “Your sister starts prep for art school in two years. We just hired a tutor from Juilliard. One lesson is $200. We don’t have extra money for you.” My dad was listening on the other end. He chimed in loudly: “Sarah, look at the neighbor’s kid, Jenny. The second school let out, she got a job at the mall. I heard she made a couple thousand just in commission last month.” Then they both asked me the same question. If Jenny can do it, why can’t you? It’s only three months. Why can’t you get a job? Why? I opened my mouth but said nothing. Because Jenny lives in Buffalo. She goes to college there. She has a house to go back to after work. Me? In the massive city of New York, the only thing I owned was one-fourth of a bunk bed in a dorm room. Oh wait, not anymore. The school was renovating to install AC and new furniture after the heatstroke incident. My roommates were planning a trip to Korea. They were scheming to take the train instead of flying to save the difference from their parents’ budget. My dorm leader, a local girl, got picked up by her parents for even a three-day weekend. Everyone was excited for summer. Everyone except me. I couldn’t even force a smile. Because I was terrified to ask my parents for money. Before college, my mom sat me down with a calculator and a spreadsheet. “Breakfast: one egg, one milk. Two dollars.” “Lunch: veggies and rice. Three dollars.” “Dinner: noodles and a bun. Five dollars.” “Ten dollars a day for food. That’s three hundred a month. I’ll give you another three hundred for ‘extras.’ Six hundred total. That’s plenty.” What she didn’t say was that she would dole out this meager six hundred dollars week by week. The first week of freshman year, the RA told us we needed to pay a $200 insurance fee. My mom didn’t believe me. “I paid your tuition. I paid your book fees. Thousands of dollars! How could there be another fee?” Through the cracked screen of my old Android, my mom’s face was blurry, but her voice was piercing. “Go find your RA. Go find the dean. I want to ask them personally if they really need to take this $200!” “Sarah, if I find out you’re lying to get money, you can forget about school! It’s a waste anyway. Liars don’t succeed.” I had no choice. I went to the RA. To this day, the pity in her eyes makes me want to disappear. That $200 was just the start. For a year, whenever there was an unexpected fee, I stalled. But periods don’t wait. It comes like a flood, staining pants and sheets. I had to beg my roommates for pads, for a few dollars, promising to pay them back when my weekly allowance came in or when I got paid from a part-time gig. Money was a mountain crushing the life out of my college experience. My bank account never had more than $20. I used the cheapest 3-in-1 men’s shampoo because it was on sale. When everyone talked about going to concerts or hot pot, I stayed silent. I didn’t even know what the inside of a hot pot restaurant looked like. I guarded my pathetic dignity and drew a line between me and my classmates. And now, with my face stinging from her slap, my mom was still ranting. “If you weren’t out whoring around, how would someone get photos like that?” “You’re disgusting, and you have the nerve to drag your sister into this?!” “Sarah, you really are just like that dead old woman!” 2 The “dead old woman” was my grandma. My name is Sarah. Grandma named me. I was born the year SARS hit. My dad owned an internet café. Due to the regulations, the business was shut down for months. Poverty defined my mother’s pregnancy. No fruit, no protein. Just stress and my dad’s constant frowning. My mom had nowhere to vent, so she blamed me. “If not for this kid, we’d be in California by now. Worst timing ever.” To make it worse, I was born during a historic heatwave. My mom was in labor for 30 hours. The doctor suggested a C-section. My dad asked how much it cost and how long the recovery was. Then he said no. My mom suffered for two days and tore badly before I finally came out. How do I know this? Because the moment I was born, my mom dumped me at my grandma’s house and left for the city with my dad to make money. Whenever I asked about them, Grandma told me the story of my birth. That was the only connection I had with them. When they left, Grandma took me to the train station. They were in the car; Grandma held me outside the window. She waved and asked, “What’s her name? We need a name for the birth certificate!” My mom looked icy. She wouldn’t even look at Grandma. Dad had blamed Grandma for the C-section costs argument, so Mom hated her. Finally, annoyed, she snapped: “So annoying. My friend in the city made sixty grand in six months. If not for this kid, we’d have a hundred grand by now.” “Useless thing. Doesn’t give me a moment of peace. Just sorrow!” The train whistle blew. Grandma was hard of hearing. She misheard “Sorrow” (Sa-rah in the noise) as “Sarah.” She told me later that Mom named me Sarah because she hoped I would bring joy. I grew up believing that lie, waiting for them to come back. I waited year after year. I sat on the porch until I wore a groove in the wood. When I was ready for elementary school, Mom finally called. “Send the older one to the city. She can watch her sister.” That’s when I learned they had been living in the suburbs for years and had another daughter. My sister was different. She was born in 2008, the year of the Olympics. The economy was booming. They bought a house before she was born. After she arrived, the value tripled. So before I even met her, I heard her name. A name filled with hope, the opposite of my burden. Lily. 3 Police Station. A female officer blocked my mom. “Ma’am! This is a police station! No hitting!” My cheek burned. But my mom, restrained by the officer, looked at me like a predator. “You’ve always been manipulative!” “You told the school to send your grades to my phone! I know you! You just wanted your sister to see them!” “Look at you. How dare you compare yourself to her?!” Compare? I wouldn’t dare. The scale of love in my family was permanently tipped toward Lily. She was young. She was talented. Dancing was hard work. My mom’s mantra: “We suffer now to support Lily. When she becomes a principal dancer, she’ll take care of us all!” But the only person “suffering” and “cutting back” was me. Three bedrooms. The big sunny one was Lily’s. The one with the balcony was my parents’. The north-facing room was turned into a dance studio with mirrors. Where did I sleep? The attic. Half a window. No sun. Piles of junk. Leaks when it rained. Even then, Lily complained. When I came down to use the bathroom at night, she’d hug Mom and whisper: “It sounds like a ghost walking. Scary.” Mom would scream at me: “Go back up! Who told you to come down?!” I used to lie in that attic, telling myself: College will be better. In college, I’ll have a dorm. A real bed. A desk. I won’t have to sneak around like a thief to pee. I had no idea that in college, poverty would be a different kind of torture. When Mom refused to let me come home, I tried to find a job. But I had no experience, could only work three months, and needed housing. Only the shady motel near campus would take me. Front desk. $1,500 a month. Room and board included. Then came the day the school emailed grades to parents. That day, my mom exploded. She seemed to forget she was the one who refused to pay for my ticket home. “School’s out and you’re not home? Where are you whoring around?!” “You’re grown now, wings are hard, huh? Don’t care about your family? Your sister got scolded by her dance teacher yesterday and cried all day! Where were you?! Not a peep!” She screamed for thirty minutes. In the background, I heard my dad comforting Lily. Finally, she delivered the verdict: “If you don’t want to come home, then don’t come back! Ever!” “Figure out your own tuition next semester!” “Mom?!” I gasped. Click. She hung up. Two seconds later, a text from Dad. [Sarah, Mom is just upset because Lily got yelled at. Don’t take it to heart.] [But can you tell the school not to send your grades? Lily saw your 4.0 GPA and had a breakdown…] I stared at the screen. My heartbeat drowned out the lobby noise. Every word pushed me further away. They were a happy family of three. I was the extra. 4 I stood at the motel front desk, silent for a long time. I was so lost in thought I didn’t notice the hand reaching out behind me. It squeezed my shoulder. Not painful, but disgusting. I jumped. It was the boss. “Sarah, I heard you on the phone. Money trouble?” He was old, almost my dad’s age. Since I started, he’d been creepy. Touching me, knocking on the female staff dorm door at night. The cleaning lady, a tough older woman, had scared him off by yelling, “Who’s there?!” Now, facing him, I stepped back. “No. No trouble.” He squeezed past me to get a soda from the mini-fridge, pressing his fat stomach against my back. I felt suffocated. I wanted to scream. You have a wife and daughter! But I didn’t dare. Because I had no money. Poverty stripped away my dignity. I had no confidence to fight back. Before leaving, he pinched my shoulder again. “You know where to find me if you need help.” I clenched my fists, forcing myself to meet his gaze. “Payday is tomorrow. Any issues?” he asked. I deflated. “No issues.” That evening, I lay on the iron bunk in the staff room. The cleaning lady asked if I wanted dinner. The boss added a chicken leg for everyone. Thinking of his eyes, I felt sick. My stomach growled, but I said no. I scrolled through my phone. My roommates were in Korea, posting food pics. My dorm leader, Jen, posted a pic of a stray dog she rescued. Fed him a whole pack of sausages and he was still hungry! Had to buy a bun too! The dog looked sleek and happy on her leather sofa. I laughed bitterly. The dog lived better than me. I scrolled down. I sat up straight. It was Lily. The first photo was her and my parents standing at the gate of Juilliard, smiling. [Thanks Mom and Dad for taking me to my dream school! See you in two years, Juilliard!] The comments were full of relatives praising her. [Go Lily!] My parents replied to every single one. Except one. My aunt asked: [You’re all in New York? Where is Sarah?] Ignored.

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My fiancé, Lucas, went off to the countryside for a volunteer program and secretly started dating a local girl. When the program ended and he returned to the city, he dumped her cold turkey and married me instead. Later, he found out his ex-girlfriend died in childbirth due to an amniotic fluid embolism. Lucas spent the rest of his life drowning in guilt and depression. He dragged me through a loveless marriage until I died young from illness. On my deathbed, I told Lucas: “If there is a next life, I don’t want to make the same mistake.” Then, I was reborn. It was the spring of 1977. This time, Lucas chose to stay in the mountains with his country love, Sarah. And I quit my cushy government job to take the college entrance exams. Decades later, I returned to the countryside as a high-ranking official on an inspection tour and met Lucas again. He had built a brick house, farmed land, and had a brood of kids with Sarah. Seeing me dusty and tired from the journey, Lucas sighed: “It’s been decades, haven’t you moved on? You’re not young anymore; just find someone decent and marry.” He thought my motion sickness was heartbreak. The next day, a black Mercedes-Benz pulled up to the village entrance to pick me up. Lucas collapsed in the dust. “Didn’t you say that even if we tortured each other, you’d haunt me forever?” 1 If I hadn’t been accompanying the Governor on this inspection tour, I probably never would have set foot in this backwater again. And I certainly never expected to meet Sarah—the nightmare of my past life—face to face. The sun was high. Her face was flushed with sunburn, but the wrinkles around her eyes couldn’t hide her joy. “My Lucas just contracted a few more acres. After the harvest, we’re building a new wing for our eldest son’s wedding.” The village women around her were chirping like birds: “Sarah, you’re so lucky! You snagged a capable man!” “Right? Back then, most of those city boys just played around and left. Who else stayed for love?” “Besides the Village Chief, you guys are basically the richest family here, right?” Sarah soaked up the praise like a sponge, feigning modesty: “Oh, stop it. He just got lucky with the new policies. He’s not that amazing.” But her chin was tilted so high she could probably drink rain. I looked away. It seemed Lucas was doing well in this life. No regrets here. I had never met Sarah in my past life or this one, yet I recognized her instantly. First, because the neighbors had their black-and-white wedding photo on the wall. Second, because in my past life, my husband kept a photo of her at eighteen hidden away, weeping over it constantly. I was about to turn back to find my delegation when I saw Lucas walking over with a few teenagers carrying hoes. They had his eyes. Definitely his and Sarah’s kids. In my past life, Lucas and I were engaged since childhood. But during his volunteer stint in the countryside, he had a fling with Sarah. Desperate to return to the city, he abandoned a pregnant Sarah and married me. Shortly after our wedding, news came that Sarah died in childbirth. Lucas was consumed by regret. He never touched me again. I lived like a widow for decades and died alone. This time around, Lucas got his wish. A full house of kids with Sarah. Suddenly, a toddler crashed into my legs. The crying drew everyone’s attention. Recognizing me, shock flashed through Lucas’s eyes. “Ava? What are you doing here?” I bent down to help the kid up. “I’m here for work.” A villager asked, “Lucas, who’s she?” Lucas looked uncomfortable. “An old neighbor from the city. We knew each other as kids.” A woman nearby sneered. “Look at that city girl frame. Thin as a rake. Probably can’t bear children. No wonder Lucas picked Sarah.” Hearing this, Sarah puffed out her chest, looking smug. “Just a neighbor. My Lucas has high standards.” She looked me up and down with disdain. “Your face is sallow, and you’re flat as a board. Can you not afford food?” “I heard you city folks need ration coupons for rice. Unlike us country folk—we grow our own and eat till we burst.” I glanced at Sarah’s plump figure and smiled politely, ignoring her rudeness. I turned to leave. But a sudden wave of dizziness hit me. The long journey on bumpy roads had given me severe motion sickness. I stumbled. Lucas rushed forward to catch me. Once I was steady, he let go and stepped back quickly. He looked at me with pity. “Ava, it’s been years… why torture yourself like this?” Sarah rushed over like a guarding hen, blocking Lucas. “Ava, have some shame! You tried to seduce Lucas when you were girls, and now that he’s my man, you chase him all the way here?” Another woman spat on the ground. “Homewrecker! Coming here to ruin a family? We won’t let you bully Sarah!” A young wife put her hands on her hips. “City slut! Still playing these games at your age?” Even an old grandma hobbled over, pointing a cane at my nose. “Didn’t your parents teach you any morals?” The crowd surged forward, trying to push me out of the village. “Get back to the city! We don’t welcome your kind!” I tried to explain, but Lucas stopped the angry mob. “Aunties, please. She’s here for me. Let me talk to her… You know I’m a good man!” Lucas looked at me, his voice dripping with condescension. “Ava, haven’t you moved on after all these years? Stop living in the past. I have Sarah and the kids now. I’m happy. You’re not young anymore. Even if you can’t find someone perfect, just settle down.” His public declaration of loyalty made Sarah beam. She looked at me with scorn. “I know you’re bitter because you met him first. But love isn’t first-come-first-served! You’re obsessed with him, and you’re almost hitting menopause, aren’t you?” “Did you come here because you heard Lucas is the richest man in the village now?” Lucas frowned, looking at my dusty clothes. “Didn’t you get into college back then? How are you doing so badly you can’t even eat properly? You have hands and feet; surely you can find work…” He thought for a moment, then carefully pulled a few crumpled bills from a pocket sewn inside his pants. “Here. I’ll get an ox cart to take you to town this afternoon. Buy a bus ticket and go home. Don’t come back.” 2 I wasn’t about to touch money that was still warm from his crotch. I waved my hand. “You misunderstand. I’m not starving. I’m thin because I diet. It’s called staying fit.” They lived in the mountains; they didn’t know that being slim was the trend in the city now. They still thought being fat meant being wealthy. Lucas was convinced I was lying to save face. He tried to shove the money at me. “Ava, stop being stubborn. Take it… Sigh, we aren’t strangers… just take it.” I stepped back. “No need. I have business here.” In the past, I was meek. I never refused him. Lucas was used to controlling me. Seeing me refuse him repeatedly, his face went cold. “Ava, you can’t fool me. If I wasn’t worried about you dying of hunger in my village, I wouldn’t bother!” Sarah scoffed. “Lucas, look at her. She looks drained… I bet she has some nasty disease!” She pulled Lucas back. “Stay away from her. Who knows what she has! I told you, a factory girl like her couldn’t get into college legitimately. She probably slept her way in…” Her tone was self-righteous, as if she hadn’t seduced an engaged man in a cornfield years ago. Back then, I waited in the city like a fool, unaware they were hooking up. When Lucas first returned to the city in my past life, he was always distracted. When I asked, he just held my hand and said it was nothing. I suspected he had a fling. To quell my doubts, he proposed before he even found a job. That night by the river, he hugged me tight. “Ava, I have you. Why would I look at anyone else? Those country girls are rough and uneducated. Why would I want them when I have you, so soft and sweet?” I thought his distraction was just anxiety about the future. I convinced my parents to let us marry. After the wedding, Lucas took my dad’s job at the factory. It was 1977. The college entrance exams were reinstated. My friends were studying. I had the best grades, but I gave up on college because I didn’t want to be separated from my new husband. Then came the news of Sarah’s death. Lucas changed. He treated me like a plague. When he got laid off in middle age, he gave up. I supported the family and cared for his parents until they died. Only on my deathbed did I realize he didn’t just feel guilty—he hated me. He hated me for taking Sarah’s place. So, my last words were: “If there is a next life, let’s not do this again.” In this life, he stayed for Sarah. I chose a different path. I thought we were both happy with our choices. I tried to leave, but Sarah blocked me. “Ava, if you want ‘youth compensation fees’ from Lucas, forget it. He owes you nothing. He told me everything about your past. It was consensual.” “If you’re really too poor to treat your ‘disease,’ stay and cook for the old bachelor in the village. Maybe he’ll give you leftovers.” The crowd laughed nastily. “Look at the way she walks, shaking her hips. No decent family here wants that. If Sarah wasn’t so generous, you wouldn’t even get to serve the bachelor.” They say poverty breeds malice. I was seeing it firsthand. “I have a job.” “I work for the government. I’m here for poverty alleviation research.” Lucas sneered. “Ava, you studied all those years for a desk job? Stop pretending. Government clerks just push paper. They don’t have the power to come here on inspections.” I felt a sudden sadness. I used to love Lucas for his intellect. A few years in the village, and he had become ignorant and shallow. 3 In his mind, making money was the only measure of success. An old man puffed on his pipe. “I heard those government jobs pay peanuts. A month’s salary isn’t even worth one harvest.” The crowd roared with laughter. I didn’t want to explain that while my salary wasn’t huge, I held the power to decide the future of their entire township. A woman pointed. “Look at her white shirt. It’s frayed at the edges. Looks cheap. Even we dress better!” I looked down at my designer shirt with intentional distressing—a style from Paris I picked up on a study trip. Of course, they wouldn’t know fashion. And the dust here made everything look gray. “Just leave! If it weren’t for the VIPs coming, I’d beat you out of here myself!” Sarah shouted. Just then, the Village Chief ran over, shooing people away. “Scram! The Inspection Team is here! The leaders are resting, but they’ll be out soon. This affects our future subsidies, don’t mess it up!” Lucas’s eyes lit up. “Is it about the land contract policy? Finally!” The Chief nodded. “And there’s a big CEO coming from the city. Self-made billionaire. He’s looking to partner with us.” “If our crops are good, he’ll buy everything at double the market rate. No middlemen!” The crowd buzzed with excitement. “That’s amazing! The grain collectors were squeezing us dry!” “My kid’s tuition is covered!” Sarah shoved me. “Get lost! Don’t be an eyesore for the VIPs!” She turned to the Chief with a fawning smile. “Chief, I’m kicking out this old spinster. She’s trying to steal my man!” The Chief finally looked at me. His face went pale. “Director Ava? Why aren’t you resting in your room?” I smiled politely. “It was stuffy. I came for a walk.” The Chief started sweating buckets, bowing repeatedly. “I am so sorry! Our conditions are poor…” He turned and roared at Sarah. “Shut your mouth! This is the Director from the Central Inspection Team! Our VIP!” Lucas froze. “Chief, you’re mistaken. She came to find me. She… we were engaged. She’s been obsessed with me for years.” Sarah put her hands on her hips. “Yeah! She’s no VIP! She’s a shameless old maid trying to steal my husband!” The Chief looked like he was about to have a stroke. “You idiots! You think your Lucas is some prize? Why would a high-ranking official want him?!” Sarah kept cursing. Lucas looked at me with disappointment. “Ava, I didn’t know you sunk this low. Impersonating an official just to win me back? That’s a federal crime!” “Let me tell you, even if you were the richest woman in the world, I wouldn’t want you! Give up!” Before I could speak, a low hum came from the village entrance. A shiny black Mercedes-Benz rolled slowly into the square. The villagers dropped their tools and swarmed the car. “What is that?” the old man gasped. “Dad, that’s a luxury sedan! Only big shots have those!” The Chief rubbed his hands together. “Quick! It’s the CEO! Welcome him!” The car door opened. A man in a sharp suit stepped out. Tall, imposing, radiating authority. He shook hands with the Chief, then walked straight to me. He gently wiped the sweat from my forehead. “Motion sickness again?” 4 I smiled up at him. “Just a little. You came all this way?” Mark looked at me tenderly. “Let me see… you’re having an allergic reaction too? You always hide it… Besides, your business is my priority.” I let him hold my hand. “Where’s our son?” “I knew you’d miss him. The road was too rough, so my secretary is watching him at the hotel in town.” The Chief’s jaw dropped. “Mr. Chen… you and Director Ava are… married?” “Yes,” Mark put his arm around my shoulder. “I’m here to support my wife’s work. Poverty alleviation.” The villagers who had been mocking me were silent. “She really is a leader…” “Sarah is delusional. With a man like that, why would she want Lucas?” “Look at that car. So grand!” The Chief laughed nervously. “Misunderstanding! All a misunderstanding! The villagers didn’t recognize Mount Tai. I apologize on their behalf!” I smiled coolly. “Chief, you said the folkways here were simple and honest. I disagree. I need to re-evaluate the application for poverty status.” The Chief turned white. Mark cut him off. “Chief, my wife is unwell. We’re going to town to rest. We’ll talk business later.” Lucas stared at me, soul-crushed. “You’re married?” I nodded calmly. “Yes. My son is seven.” Mark and I were college classmates. He came from a prestigious family with deep political roots. We fell in love slowly. His family didn’t care about my humble background. After graduation, I went into government; he went into business during the economic reform. I used to think marriage was a grave. Mark taught me it could be paradise. Seeing how Mark loved me, I finally realized Lucas never truly loved me. I turned to leave. Lucas blocked the car. Through the windshield, he stared at me, eyes bloodshot. Mark squeezed my hand, jealous. “Lucas… that ex-boyfriend?” “No,” I said quickly. “Just a neighbor from childhood. Arranged engagement, never real.” “Ava! You said you’d wait for me to change my mind!” Lucas screamed. Mark’s face darkened. I held him back. “I’ll handle it.” I got out and looked Lucas in the eye. “Lucas, you remember wrong. I never said that in this life.” I emphasized “this life.” His face went ghostly pale. “Ava, I know you. You’re stubborn. You said even if we tortured each other, you’d haunt me forever!” I sighed. He didn’t get it. That was the old Ava. “Lucas, stop living in the past. When you chose Sarah, our fates were sealed. You stayed here; I left. We are strangers now.” Sarah grabbed Lucas. “Lucas! What are you doing? I gave you four kids! You can’t leave me just because she’s rich now!” Lucas shoved her away and yelled at me. “I only stayed with Sarah because I heard you were fooling around with other men in the city! You forgot me! You never wrote!” I was shocked. “Who told you that? You know who I am! And letters? I wrote every week! You didn’t get them?” “Sarah told me! She said everyone was talking about it…” Lucas stopped mid-sentence. Sarah was sweating bullets, eyes darting around. He realized the truth. “Sarah! Did you hide Ava’s letters? Speak!” Sarah fell to her knees, hugging his leg. “I was wrong, Lucas! I just loved you too much!” Lucas stood there, struck by lightning. “So you never betrayed me… I knew it… you were so perfect…” I felt no hate, just pity. “Lucas, we grew up together. Did you really trust rumors over me?” “Ava… listen…” He slapped Sarah across the face. Hard. Blood sprayed from her nose. He kicked her over. “Stop!” Sarah wailed. Villagers pulled him back. I looked at this violent man with disgust. I turned to leave. Lucas broke free and chased me. “Ava! It was a misunderstanding! Don’t go! Let’s start over!” I laughed. “Lucas, you have no spine. If you didn’t want to sleep with Sarah, could she have forced you?” “It was your weak will.” Lucas cried, tears streaming down his face. “Ava, you’re lying… you still love me. Or you wouldn’t be here.” I shook my head. “I forgot you existed until today.”

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I showed up for my tutoring gig and realized the student was my dad’s illegitimate son. But here’s the kicker: I was broke. This kid lived in a mansion, drove luxury cars, and ate gourmet food. His mom dripped with diamonds and acted like royalty. Meanwhile, I ate dry ramen yesterday to save money—the cheap packet kind, not even the cup kind, because those are too expensive. In my past life, I died in a car “accident” because someone tampered with my bike. As a ghost, I floated around and learned the truth: my wealthy grandparents also died in “accidents.” My mom had been driven insane and locked in a mental asylum for years. My dad really went all out to eat my family’s fortune alive. When I woke up reborn, I made a decision: The first thing I’d do is lend my bike to that illegitimate brat. 1 “What are you doing?!” Grandma’s voice shrieked through the video call, terror cracking her usually calm demeanor. I smiled, innocent as a lamb. “Grandma, what’s wrong? My student just offered to go buy me a boba tea.” My grandma, who usually treated me with fake kindness, barked, “Get him off that bike right now! You think you’re a real teacher? You’re just a part-time tutor living off scraps! How dare you make the Young Master run errands for you?” Well, well. My “sweet” grandma clearly knew exactly what had been done to my bike. No wonder she video-called me right before I died in my past life. She wanted a front-row seat to my death, just to be sure. Thinking back, she and my dad deserved Oscars for their acting. They convinced me for years that our family was bankrupt, drowning in debt collectors. I scraped by on work-study jobs to pay tuition. I starved myself to save pennies, which I then “dutifully” sent to this grandma I thought loved me. I died hungry. Even as a ghost, I felt that hunger. I wondered if she enjoyed spending the money I saved by skipping meals. “Grandma, what did you say?” I asked, making my voice airy and ghost-like. “Signal’s bad. Can’t hear you. Bye!” I hung up. Minutes later, a screech of tires and a sickening crash echoed from the street corner a hundred yards away. I paused. My eyes felt hot. This time, the mangled body on the pavement wasn’t mine. It was the precious treasure of the murderers who killed me, killed my grandparents, and drove my mom insane. Was he innocent? No. I learned the truth after I died. He had sick plans for me. His drawer was full of drugs he planned to use on me. He wanted to drug and assault me. Even this “errand” was a setup. I saw him slip a packet of powder into his pocket before he left. If I drank that tea… The outcome would have been unthinkable. He didn’t know I was his half-sister. But he was born rotten. If he wanted something, he took it. He enjoyed my grandparents’ wealth in private while bullying people at school with his “rich kid” status. Who knows how many girls’ lives he ruined? He deserved to die. 2 That night, I went “home” to a slap in the face. I looked at my dad, confused and shocked. “Dad? What did I do?” “Kneel!” He was shaking with rage, pointing a finger at me. “You know what you did! I never knew you were this vicious!” “…Vicious?” I held my stinging cheek. I thought of my mom in the asylum. I didn’t even know if she survived after I died in my past life. The hatred in my chest surged. But my voice came out weak and wronged. “So you’re just like Grandma.” “My student made progress, so he wanted to buy his teacher a boba tea. I said no, but he insisted on taking my bike to show his sincerity. Do you all think I’m not worthy of a $5 drink?” “I even listened to Grandma and left before he came back. How is that vicious?!” My dad stared at me, suspicious. He hadn’t expected me to be clueless. I squeezed out some tears. “Dad, I saw a photo in their house. A family of three.” I watched his jaw tighten. The violence in his eyes flickered. I pretended not to notice and sobbed. “The dad in the photo looked a lot like you. But it couldn’t be you. He was young, wearing a suit and a Rolex. That’s a life we don’t have. But don’t worry, Dad. I’ll work hard so you can live like that one day.” I had replayed this scenario in my head. In my past life, his mistress probably showed me that photo on purpose. She likely told him I saw it and threatened to expose them, to take back my grandparents’ money. That’s why he wanted me gone immediately. But if he thought I was still his stupid, filial daughter who knew nothing, his guard would drop. Sure enough, the scumbag frowned, deep in thought. After a moment, his expression softened, though he still paced anxiously. “How could you just leave? Do you know that… uh, your student, got hit by a car? The driver swerved just in time, so he didn’t die, but his leg was crushed. They had to amputate.” Not dead? I realized my mistake. Tampering with the bike didn’t guarantee death. But the driver was paid off. When he saw the wrong person on the bike, he probably swerved to avoid a murder charge, but still caused damage. A pity. But letting the scumbag and his mistress feel heartache wasn’t a bad consolation prize. This was just the first gift I had prepared for them. 3 I wasn’t at ease, so I skipped class to visit my mom at the mental hospital. I found her tied to a bed in solitary confinement. Her eyes were dull and empty. Her face was swollen with fresh slap marks. Blood trickled from the corner of her mouth. My heart shattered. I rushed to untie her. “Who did this?!” The nurse who followed me in looked panicked. She stammered that she didn’t know, maybe a family member visited earlier and things got out of hand. “Family?” I hugged my mom tight. “Show me the security footage.” They never expected me to visit. In the past, I was too busy surviving to come often. They thought I’d be dead soon anyway, so they got sloppy. The footage wasn’t deleted. And there she was—my “dear” grandma. That old witch, along with the diamond-dripping mistress, taking turns beating my mother. It happened regularly. No wonder my mom was “crazy.” Even a sane person would break under this torture. I started to suspect my mom wasn’t even sick before they put her in here. My heart ached so much I trembled. But my hands were steady as I pulled out my phone and recorded the footage from the screen. I signed the papers and took my mom out. The witch and the mistress were venting their anger because their precious boy lost a leg. Since my dad was momentarily placated by my act, they couldn’t touch me yet, so they went for my mom. I used my scholarship money to rent a small apartment near campus for us. I cleaned her up, applied ointment to her wounds, and dressed her in fresh clothes. Throughout it all, she was as silent as a doll. She only moved when I asked her to. Desperate, I mimicked my childhood self. I shook her arm. “Mommy, Mommy, can you braid my hair like yesterday? The five-strand braid? All the kids said it was pretty.” Suddenly, she snapped awake. She grabbed me, terror in her eyes. “No! June, be good! No five-strand braids! Mommy will do a different one!” I froze, then realized. I was four years older than the illegitimate son. The year he was born, the mistress must have gotten impatient. She hired kidnappers to snatch me, probably to blackmail my mom into divorce. But that day, I played with water at preschool and ruined my braid, so the teacher undid it. The kidnappers took the wrong girl—another kid with a five-strand braid. From then on, my mom refused to braid my hair like that. I was too young to understand. I only knew that soon after, my grandparents died. Then Mom got “sick” and disappeared. Now it all made sense. In my mom’s eyes, time had stopped. I was still her four-year-old daughter. My nose stung. I squatted down and handed her the comb. “Okay, Mommy. June will be good. No five-strand braids. Just make me pretty.” “Good girl.” She tapped my forehead. Her eyes finally had a spark of life. But she looked so old. Her hair was gray. Years ago, my mom was a wealthy heiress. A delicate white flower. My dad was a charity case my grandparents sponsored. He used the “country boy gratitude” act to woo my innocent mother. It was a trap from the start. A trap that claimed multiple lives. In my past life, after I died, my mom surely didn’t last long. It was time to deliver my second gift. 4 In a dim corner of a coffee shop, I struck a deal with a woman. I promised her everything she wanted once the job was done. Within months, the mistress in the villa started panicking. My dad, the scumbag James Lee, visited her less and less. He stopped caring about their son. The allowance he gave them dwindled to peanuts. He didn’t even visit the boy who was now an amputee. Meanwhile, I was the picture of filial piety. He had wanted to dump my mom for years but couldn’t ruin his “good husband” image. Now that I was an adult, I acted as my mom’s guardian and filed for divorce on her behalf. I told him I “felt sorry” for him being tied down and wanted him to be happy. The divorce went through. The more “filial” I acted, the less he suspected me. Soon, he hinted that he had a new girlfriend. I feigned excitement. “That’s great! Dad, you won’t be lonely anymore!” I added wistfully, “If only Auntie Zhang could give me a little brother. I’d love him so much! I’d give him everything!” He was shocked, then ecstatic. He couldn’t hide his grin. “You really think that? Good! You really are my daughter!” His voice softened. “I misunderstood you before.” “Auntie Zhang was right. You’re my flesh and blood. You’d never betray me.” I laughed internally. Pillow talk is powerful. If I let the mistress in the villa keep whispering in his ear, my mom and I would be in constant danger. “Dad has great news. Auntie Zhang is pregnant.” James beamed, wrinkles crinkling around his eyes. “You should get close to her. When your brother is born, you protect him.” I nodded enthusiastically. He was so pleased he blurted out, “By the way, when you graduate, come to the company. I’ll mentor you personally.” I acted surprised. “But Dad, aren’t you just a low-level employee? Can you hire people?” James looked awkward for a split second. “Ah, well, that was just to test your character. The company is actually mine.” “Don’t be mad at Dad. I’ll teach you the ropes. Eventually, you can hand it over to your brother.” I smiled. Done. After all this planning, I was finally on the inside. One day, I accompanied Auntie Zhang to a prenatal checkup. We ran into the mistress from the villa. She used to be dripping with jewels. Now, even heavy makeup couldn’t hide her haggard face. “You little slut! What spell did you cast on your father?!” “Why is he letting you into the company? Why?!” 5 She wanted to tear my face off? Hilarious. She used to act so high and mighty. I admired my manicure. “Why?” “Because it’s my grandparents’ company. Your crippled son will never touch it.” “You… you…” She shook with rage, raising her hand to slap me. I remembered the videos of her beating my mom. I wanted to rip her apart. But I held back. I’m a law-abiding citizen. I could kill her without lifting a finger. I could kill her heart. I grabbed her wrist mid-air. “Listen, side-piece. Hit me all you want, but don’t you dare touch Auntie Zhang. She’s carrying my dad’s flesh and blood. My baby brother.” I had done my homework. This woman, Eva, came from the same poor village as my dad. Childhood sweethearts. First love. If she had just been his white moonlight, fine. But she conspired to murder the people who funded her education. She hunted their daughter and granddaughter. Yes, my grandparents sponsored her too. This pair of wolves claimed to have true love. Today, I was going to make her wish she was dead. “What did you say?” Her face went ghost white as she stared at Auntie Zhang’s belly. I threw her hand away. “Oh, Dad didn’t tell you? He divorced my mom. For years he wouldn’t divorce her for you. But for Auntie Zhang and my brother? He moved instantly. He wants to give them legitimate status.” “Turns out, you were just a toy to him.” Auntie Zhang, right on cue, blushed and looked down shyly. “June, don’t tease me. I’m embarrassed.” Eva stumbled back, blood draining from her face. “James… you betrayed me… you betrayed me!” Eighteen years ago, she tried everything to get legitimate status for her son and failed. She tortured the rightful wife for a decade and failed. Now, for a new woman and a fetus, James acted instantly. What was she? What was her son? Their “true love” was a joke. Watching her crumble, I felt a rush of pure joy. This was my second gift. Now, it was time for James’s gift.

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Search and Rescue called. They said my parents had wandered into a restricted “No Man’s Land” in the desert and were begging for help. They told me to prepare a huge sum of money for the rescue operation. Before I could answer, my husband snatched my phone. “It’s a scam. Don’t listen to them.” Then he smashed my phone on the floor and threatened, “If you touch a cent of our savings to save them, we’re getting a divorce!” What he didn’t know was that the luxury vacation package he bought for my parents had been hijacked by his parents. So the people stranded in the desert, waiting to die? Those were his mom and dad. 1 “Ms. Xu, this is the Search and Rescue team. Your parents have entered a restricted zone. Since this is a private, high-risk extraction, the estimated cost will be around one million dollars.” One million. It sounded like a lot, but between my husband and me, we had enough savings to cover it if we scraped the barrel. I didn’t hesitate. “Save them. Of course, save them! How do I transfer the money…” My phone was ripped from my hand. My husband, Mark, spoke into it, his voice cold and final. “Two old people walked into a restricted zone on their own? We aren’t wasting resources on that. Thanks for calling.” “What are you saying?!” I screamed, lunging for the phone. Mark threw it on the hardwood floor. Crack. He glared at me, furious. “Sarah, do you hear yourself? That is our life savings! Years of hard work! You want to just burn it?” I stared at him in disbelief. “Are you human? Those are our parents! You always preach about filial piety and how hard it is to raise kids. Now you want to let them die?” I scrambled to pick up my phone. Thank god for heavy-duty cases and screen protectors. The screen was shattered, but the call was still connected. I knelt on the floor and shouted into the mic: “I’ll pay! Save them!” Mark dove at me, snatched the phone again, and screamed into it: “Save my ass! I said no! Two old fools wandered off to die, let them die! They deserve it!” Then he hung up. “Mark! Are you insane? Those are your parents!” He sneered. “My parents? Don’t be stupid. Those are your parents. Sarah, listen to me: if you spend one dime on them, I’m divorcing you. Don’t forget, you can’t touch our joint assets without my consent.” He stormed into the bedroom and locked the door. My heart turned to ice. I sat on the floor, trying to calm down, thinking of ways to bypass him and access the money. Then it hit me. He thought it was my parents out there. But… the people who took those tickets were his parents. 2 A week ago, Mark came home humming a tune. He pulled two tickets out of his briefcase. “My buddy just opened a high-end travel agency. He’s doing a promo, so I bought two tickets. Your parents love to travel, right? Perfect timing. Let’s send them on a trip.” I looked at the tickets. “Western Desert Luxury Tour.” Price tag: $5,999 per person, flights not included. Something felt off. “Mark,” I asked, “You always complain about my parents wasting money on travel. Why the sudden change of heart?” He sat on the sofa, smiling. “Eh, they’re old. Let them have their hobbies. They have savings and pensions. Walking around is good for their health.” Hearing him speak so kindly about my parents warmed my heart. I immediately called my mom and dad. After hanging up, Mark beamed. “Happy?” I nodded vigorously. “Yes! Hey, why don’t we buy two more tickets and send your parents too? The four of them can look out for each other.” “No way!” He blurted it out instantly. “They can’t go!” I was confused. “Why? If it’s about money, I’ll chip in. It’s safer with four people.” Mark always said his parents were simple country folk who rarely left their village. This was a perfect opportunity. He frowned, thinking for a long time. “They’re just… rural people. They don’t fit in with high-end tours. They wouldn’t appreciate it. A local bus tour is enough for them.” “That’s not fair! Everyone has a first time. They worked hard their whole lives. Why can’t they enjoy luxury?” I opened my phone. “Send me your friend’s agency contact. I’ll buy the tickets.” Mark stood up and hugged me. “Babe, the promo is over. No more tickets. Let’s just take them ourselves next time.” “Besides, you need to book the flights for your parents. The tour vouchers have to be redeemed in person. I have a business trip tomorrow, so I’m leaving it to you. I trust you.” He was so adamant, I let it go. That night, while he slept, I snuck into the living room to look up the travel agency on the tickets. I searched everywhere. Nothing. “Maybe it’s so new it’s not online yet?” I mumbled. Still, the guilt of sending my parents on a luxury trip while leaving his parents behind gnawed at me. Eventually, I called the travel agent my parents usually used. “Hey, any new deals?” The reply came fast: “Got a great one, Sarah. The usual. Satisfaction guaranteed.” $1,299 per person. Flights not included. It was a packed itinerary at a budget price. Since I trusted this agency, I transferred the money right away. I went back to bed feeling virtuous. 3 After Mark left for his trip, I called both sets of parents. I told them to come to our city to depart together. My in-laws, hearing “trip,” demanded business class train tickets and rushed over from the countryside. The moment my mother-in-law walked in, she started complaining. “Traveling again? You make a little money and just burn it.” That was her style. Loud and cheap. I was used to tuning it out. I smiled and pulled her to the sofa. “Mom, Mark said you guys never travel. We wanted to treat you. Money is meant to be spent, right?” She eyed me up and down. I showed her my phone. “Look, this agency is great. My parents use them all the time. No forced shopping, great guides. Five-star hotels.” She looked interested until she scrolled up and saw the price. Her face soured. “You send your parents on fancy trips, and you give us this cheap junk?” She snorted. “My son makes all that money just for you to spend on your family?” “Mom, if you don’t like this package, we can add extras…” My father-in-law stood up and snatched the $5,999 tickets off the coffee table. He looked at them and exploded. “You booked us a $1,299 tour and your parents a $6,000 tour?!” My mother-in-law grabbed the tickets, read the price, and started stomping her feet. She sat on the floor, slapping her thighs. “Oh, the injustice! I thought you finally grew a conscience! You’re feeding us garbage!” I tried to explain. “Mark bought those from a friend! It was a special promo!” She shoved the tickets into my chest. “I don’t care! We are going on the $6,000 tour!” “But…” I was stuck. Mark bought those specifically for my parents. “You just don’t want us to have nice things!” she screamed. “You look down on us country people! Trying to fool us with cheap tours!” Even my father-in-law chimed in. “We watch TikTok! We know about these cheap tours! They lock old people in stores and don’t let them pee until they buy jewelry! You trying to kill us?” I pointed at my chat history. “My parents love this agency!” My mother-in-law slapped my phone out of my hand. “I don’t care! Book our flights now! We’re going to the desert!” I picked up my phone, exasperated. I tried to call Mark. The first call cut off. Before I could dial again, my father-in-law barked, “Stop calling! Men are working! Why is a woman always bothering him?” “I just need to confirm…” “Confirm what? He’s the head of the household! Don’t distract him from his promotion!” “Yeah,” my mother-in-law added. “It’s normal for Mark not to talk to us for months when he’s busy. Don’t bother him.” Fine. Keep the peace. Treat it as charity. I sighed and opened the airline app. I entered their info for economy seats. My mother-in-law snatched the phone again. “Economy?! That’s for poor people! My son buys houses in the city! We are First Class people!” I was too tired to argue. First Class it is. Paid with Mark’s credit card, naturally. “I’ll postpone the other tour for later,” I said. “Don’t bother!” she huffed. “We know what you’re doing. Trying to punish us with cheap trips. We won’t go! Either refund it or send your parents!” Her eyes lit up. “Yeah! Send your parents on the cheap one! Let them suffer a bit!” Even with my patience, that stung. “Fine. My parents will take the $1,299 tour.” 4 Just then, there was a knock. My parents arrived. “Sarah! What tour did Mark get us?” My dad’s booming voice filled the room. He saw my in-laws. “Oh! The in-laws are here too! A seniors’ trip? Fun!” My mom smiled warmly. “We travel a lot. We can help with packing tips.” My mother-in-law cut her off. “I don’t need your tips. My good son bought us a $6,000 luxury tour. Unlike your daughter, who’s so stingy she only got you the $1,000 one.” My mom paused. “Six thousand? That sounds nice.” “Of course it is! My son is filial. He knows we suffered in the village. We aren’t going with you on your budget trip.” She added with fake concern, “But hey, be careful. Those cheap tours are scams. Maybe you shouldn’t go.” The malice was dripping from her voice. My mom, bless her heart, didn’t even frown. She patted my back. “The city tour is great. Short and sweet. Dad and I were looking at that one anyway. Great minds think alike, Sarah.” Seeing that her insults didn’t land, my mother-in-law got bored. “Hmph. Wait until you’re forced to buy jade bracelets. Come on, husband. Let’s go. Don’t wait up.” They left. I held my mom’s hand. “Mom, I really didn’t mean to…” She shook her head. “Those expensive tickets were meant for us, weren’t they?” I couldn’t lie to her. “Your in-laws never travel. Let them enjoy it. Don’t worry about us.” I was so grateful. I called the agency and swapped the names right there.

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When my biological parents finally found me, I arrived dragging a “little burden” along with me. The fake heiress covered her mouth with a handkerchief and giggled: “Where did this little bastard come from? Sister, did you really bring him back to the estate?” My so-called fiancé went straight to the Empress to reject our marriage, righteous and indignant: “I absolutely cannot marry such an unclean woman.” Relying on his status as the Emperor’s only son, he forced my mother to cancel the engagement. I silently agreed. Good. Saves me the trouble. After all, the “burden” I brought back is his own brother. 1 In the Phoenix Palace, the Empress sat quietly on her throne, looking troubled. Below her, a concubine dressed in goose-yellow palace robes was crying her eyes out: “Your Majesty must seek justice for the Second Prince! The Emperor only has His Highness as a son. If he marries a woman who has already given birth as his official wife, won’t we become the laughingstock of the world?” She then turned to my mother, angry and complaining: “And the Marchioness too! How could you not even know who your own daughter is? The Second Prince is about to get married, and now you say the one in the estate is fake?” “Even if you made a mistake, why make it public? Just swallow it! Why insist on having the newcomer recognized and dragging the Second Prince into this mess?” “His Highness is so precious, and now he’s being humiliated by your family’s dirty laundry!” My mother sighed deeply and bowed to the Empress: “Your Majesty may not know, but Clara is my flesh and blood, lost for over ten years due to evil schemes. I cannot bear to see her marriage stolen by the daughter of a lowly servant.” As soon as she finished, Concubine Lian stood up abruptly, tears in her eyes, angry yet aggrieved: “What does the Marchioness mean by that?” “Are you insinuating something about me?” My mother froze, looking awkward. I remembered then. My mother once told me that Concubine Lian used to be a foot-washing maid for the Dowager Empress. She gained favor through an “accident.” Originally, she was supposed to be dismissed with a low rank, but she got pregnant and gave birth to the Emperor’s only son. That was how she rose to become a Concubine. The current Emperor wasn’t lustful and had a strained relationship with the Empress, making Concubine Lian unique in the harem. Over the years, she relied on being the Second Prince’s birth mother to act like the future Empress Dowager, hating anyone who mentioned her past. “Enough!” The Empress interrupted firmly but gently. “I understand the situation. However, this marriage was personally arranged by the late Dowager Empress. Now that she has passed, I must ask the Emperor for his decision.” Hearing this, Concubine Lian glared at me hatefully: “Anyway, such a shameless woman who casually sleeps with men… My son will absolutely never want her.” With a flick of her sleeve, she stormed out. 2 In the carriage on the way back, my mother leaned her head on her hand, looking exhausted. I gently massaged her shoulders. After a long while, she sighed softly: “I wonder if bringing you into the palace today was right or wrong?” I used to think I was an abandoned orphan. Later, I learned I was swapped at birth without my mother’s knowledge. The one who replaced me was my father’s illegitimate daughter from an affair. She took my identity as the eldest daughter of the Marquis estate, my parents’ love, and my royal fiancé. After a moment, I whispered: “Mother must know the royal family won’t agree to the Second Prince marrying me. Why go through this?” She looked up and smiled: “If we didn’t go to the palace, how would the outside world know your true identity?” “Do you know? I hid this trip from your father and grandmother. They wanted to cover it up, claim you were a distant cousin, and let that girl completely replace you. How could I agree?” She looked at me, suppressing a faint hatred in her eyes. “I wanted to blow this up. Let them keep dreaming.” Back at the estate, Mother accompanied me to see Leo in the Autumn Courtyard. He was still small, sleeping soundly on the couch. Just as we sat down, a servant reported that the Old Madame wanted to see us. Mother sneered, taking her hand off Leo’s face: “They came fast! I’ll go meet them.” She stood up, looking at me with worry: “I’m fine, but you…” “If I had known, I would have built a better relationship with Concubine Lian. Offending her… once she becomes Empress Dowager, I fear… sigh!” Since returning, I learned that Mother was favored by the late Dowager Empress in her youth and had a proud character, naturally looking down on Concubine Lian’s behavior. I frowned slightly: “Why does Mother think Concubine Lian will definitely become Empress Dowager?” She rubbed her temples, shaking her head wearily: “It’s not just me; everyone thinks so.” “The Emperor has few heirs. For so many years, only the Second Prince has grown up safely. Who else could it be? Surely he wouldn’t abandon his own son to adopt one?” I lowered my eyes, speaking thoughtfully: “But what if… the Emperor has more than one son?” Mother laughed instantly: “That would be wonderful. If the Emperor had another son, as long as the mother’s rank was decent, those old officials in the court wouldn’t be clinging to the Second Prince.” “But how is that possible? The Emperor rarely visits the harem now, let alone having a pregnant concubine.” She chuckled, patting my arm: “I’m going. Take care of Leo.” I gazed at the peaceful sleeping face on the small couch, reaching into his clothes to pull out a black jade pendant carved with a dragon. I examined it for a long time before putting it back. Closing my eyes, I took a deep breath. This jade was given to me by my husband on our wedding night. He laughed, saying he had nothing else and didn’t know who he was, so he gave me this jade to pass on to our children. Today, I saw a similar jade on the Second Prince. So on the day we parted, he didn’t lie. He really was the Emperor. Three years ago, I saved a stranger and accidentally lost my virginity to him. He lost his memory and said he wanted to take responsibility. Without family or blessings, we simply bowed to heaven and earth. But barely six months later, he said he regained his memory. I couldn’t be his wife anymore. He said he had a wife and son, and asked if I could be his concubine. I screamed, asking him why. He was silent for a long time before replying: “I am the Emperor.” I sneered, throwing his luggage at him, unsure if I believed him or not: “I’d rather be a poor man’s wife than a rich man’s concubine.” “Get out.” He left, asking me to wait for him, saying he would send someone for me once he handled everything. Why would I agree? The day after he left, I burned the place down and left. That was when I discovered I was pregnant. Three years later, my mother found me, and I became the true daughter of the Marquis estate. 3 The next morning, I learned there was a huge fight in the front yard yesterday. Grandmother fell ill from anger, and Father furiously handed the household management rights to Concubine Spring. Mother locked herself in her courtyard and refused to come out. My maid, Forsythia, tearfully recounted yesterday’s events. It turned out Father and Grandmother were unhappy with Mother acting on her own. They intended for the fake daughter to marry using my identity. Now that it was exposed, Concubine Lian rejected not only me but also the fake daughter. Right, to Father, we were both his blood. What difference did it make? Perhaps he even knew about the swap back then. Only the Second Prince and the fake daughter, childhood sweethearts, went to the Emperor to beg for their marriage. After noon, someone came for me, saying the Second Prince had arrived and wanted me in the main hall. I frowned slightly and followed. Mother was already there when I arrived. She looked pale, her eyes bloodshot, as if she hadn’t slept well. I patted her arm comfortingly and stood by her side. The Second Prince glanced at me and snorted: “Autumn, your wild sister really knows how to cause trouble. My mother cried to me for half the night yesterday. If not for Father’s love for me, our marriage would have been ruined.” “Bringing a burden and still wanting to be a royal wife? Doesn’t she have any shame?!” He Autumn, the illegitimate daughter who took my identity, the fake lady. She covered her mouth and laughed, eyes flashing: “His Majesty loves Your Highness the most. But isn’t the position of a side consort a bit unfair to sister?” My heart skipped a beat. I looked at Mother. She smiled miserably and shook her head. “What’s unfair? Father said as long as she sends the child away, giving her a side consort position is already honoring her.” “After all, I am Father’s only son. She’s just a village woman. Could Father possibly wrong me for her?” I realized then that the Emperor not only agreed to the Second Prince marrying He Autumn but also elevated her to a County Princess. For me, I had to send my child away and become a side consort to fulfill the promise to the late Dowager Empress. After all, the Second Prince was his son. What a calculation! A dull pain rose in my heart. Even knowing he didn’t know my identity, I couldn’t suppress the grievance. 4 After the Second Prince left, I went to Mother’s room. She looked exhausted and said immediately: “Clara, I’ve wronged you.” Leaning on the soft couch, eyes half-open, she smiled bitterly: “His Majesty… probably wants to name the Crown Prince soon. That’s why he’s rushing to pave the way for the Second Prince.” “He knows your father dislikes you and the Second Prince likes Autumn, so he’s willing to elevate her.” Plans can’t keep up with changes. According to Mother’s plan, blowing things up would make Concubine Lian reject both daughters. It would strike the Marquis estate and legitimize my identity, allowing me to raise Leo openly. We calculated everything but didn’t expect the Emperor to intervene, using the marriage of the Marquis daughter to elevate the Second Prince. I heard the four side consort positions were filled by noble families. Only I was riding on the late Dowager Empress’s coattails. These marriages would likely be set in stone after the palace banquet. Since that day, the estate became lively. Grandmother recovered, Father was spirited, and even the servants walked with a spring in their step. This time, the one who fell ill was Mother. When He Autumn came to visit, she smiled suggestively: “Mother, why bother? All your schemes just benefited others.” “Did you forget? The one in charge now is the Emperor, not the Dowager Empress.” Mother was furious, coughing while pointing a finger at her, telling her to get out. She raised an eyebrow, smiling as she shifted her gaze to me: “Why is Mother so angry? Today I serve you, but tomorrow Sister will have to serve me.” “Mother bullies me like this, aren’t you afraid of karma hitting Sister? Tsk tsk, side consort sounds nice, but it’s just a concubine. Luckily, I’m not intolerant; I won’t torture Sister.” “Pfft—” A mouthful of blood spewed from my mother’s mouth, her face pale as paper. I smashed a teacup at her, shouting: “Get out!” Water splashed everywhere, wetting her dress. She pouted unwillingly but said nothing more.

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