For thrills, my boyfriend tricked me into drinking a spiked cocktail. But just as the drugs kicked in, he got a call from his “White Moonlight”—the one that got away—and ditched me. I was about to protest when a stream of comments, like a live chat, suddenly floated across my vision: 【What a scumbag! How could he leave our girl at a time like this?! I’m fuming!】 【Scumbag is running to his ex again. Our girl is so pitiful!】 【Girl, forget that trash! Go next door and find Dr. Gu! He’s super in love with you!】 【Don’t hesitate! Dr. Gu is your antidote!】 I couldn’t think straight. Fighting the heat rising in my body, I knocked on my neighbor’s door. “Dr. Gu, help me…” 1 After hanging up, Caleb pulled his half-removed pants back up. “Something came up. I have to go out. Handle it yourself.” I was stunned, the drugs already clouding my mind. “You’re leaving now? What about me?” Hearing this, Caleb’s face darkened instantly. “Chloe, you’re an adult. Can’t you handle yourself?” Unbelievable. He drugged me, and now he wants me to “handle it myself”?! Before I could beg him to stay, his tone turned impatient. “Enough! Bella is sick. Can you not start drama with me right now?” The words died in my throat. I could only endure the torture of the drug, watching him leave in despair. The second the door clicked shut, floating text appeared before my eyes: 【How can this scumbag leave our girl now? That’s too much!】 【This is the eighth time Bella has been ‘sick’ this month. Every time, the scumbag dumps our girl for her! As expected of a melodramatic heroine, she’s tragic!】 【I can’t watch this. Who will save our girl?!】 【Girl, forget the scumbag. If you’re suffering, go find Dr. Gu next door! He’s your cure!】 【Yes! Go next door! Dr. Gu is tall and handsome, way better than that trash!】 I felt dizzy staring at the floating text. Dr. Gu? Dr. Gu, the aloof neighbor with the “do not disturb” face? Fueled by the drug, my body burned hotter and hotter. I couldn’t care less. Fighting the waves of heat, I stumbled to the door next door and knocked. 2 I knocked a few times. No answer. I must be hallucinating to believe floating text. Just as I turned to leave, the door clicked open behind me. A voice called out. “Chloe?” I turned around and met Dr. Gu’s deep, dark eyes. He must have just showered. He was shirtless, a white towel wrapped low around his waist. Looking closer… Broad shoulders, narrow waist, eight-pack abs… Water droplets still clung to his tight muscles. But right now, this view was adding fuel to the fire. My heart raced uncontrollably, chest heaving with every quick breath. A cool voice broke the silence. “Like what you see?” I looked up instinctively. Even backlit, I could clearly see his prominent brow bone, high nose bridge, and slightly upturned lips. How did I not notice before? Dr. Gu’s face is like an otome game character come to life! Blinded by his beauty, I blurted out: “Yes…” The figure froze. Dr. Gu’s expression turned unnatural. The floating comments exploded. 【OMG! Our girl is so direct! I love it!】 【What did I just see? The high-mountain flower blushed!】 【More than blushed! She said he looked good, and he… that’s ridiculous!】 I looked down instinctively and had to agree. …Indeed, ridiculous. The comments continued: 【Help! Even in a towel… I can’t imagine…】 【Hahaha, Dr. Gu is down bad!!】 【So tense, so exciting! Is the scene I’ve been waiting for finally happening?!】 【I command you, do it now! Immediately!】 3 I collapsed into Dr. Gu’s arms like a damp sponge. “Dr. Gu, I feel terrible…” “Can you kiss me?” Hearing this, the figure stiffened visibly. 【Mommy! Who gets it? Her voice is so soft and teary, my heart is melting!】 【Forget you, Dr. Gu is about to lose it, hahaha.】 【Understandable. He’s been crushing on her for three years. He must be exploding.】 【For real. Every time he saw her with the scumbag, his heart must have bled.】 The comments confused me. They said… Dr. Gu has liked me for three years? Why didn’t I notice at all? Before I could think, a sudden force pulled me inside. Bang! The door slammed shut behind us. My vision was blocked by a tall figure. He was looking down at me. Slender fingers brushed my cheek, warm breath fanning over me as he gently lifted my chin. His tone remained cool. “What did you mean just now?” I was forced to meet his gaze. Up close, I was suddenly too nervous to speak. But he didn’t seem ready to let me off. A dangerously charming face leaned in close to mine. “Be clear…” “Where does it hurt?” 4 I blushed, not knowing how to answer. But the heat was unbearable. So I grabbed his hands—those distinct, bony hands. 【Help! Can I watch this? Our girl is too good!】 【Who can resist this! Is a physical exam next? So exciting!】 【Can’t hold it back! RIP to the panties today!!!】 Feeling my touch, his breath hitched. He froze, face red enough to explode. Taking advantage of the moment, I wrapped my arms around his neck. I stood on tiptoes and kissed him lightly. The moment our lips met, he completely surrendered. I don’t know how long we kissed. I found myself placed on a soft bed. The man’s muscular body leaned over, enveloping me in an ambiguous shadow. “Chloe, how do you want me to help?” Before I could speak, his high nose nuzzled my neck and shoulder. A numbness spread from my ears to my entire body. I shivered uncontrollably. But then, my phone rang inappropriately. I couldn’t be bothered to look. I fumbled and hit reject. But as soon as one call ended, another came. The man above me stopped, staring straight at the phone. “Sorry, I’ll turn it off.” I moved to grab the phone. But a large hand pressed my wrist down. “Maybe… we should stop.”

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My family’s secret to making big money was the river right in front of our door. Whenever tourists from out of town came to play, my dad would pretend to drown. When a kind Samaritan jumped in to save him, he’d drown them instead. Then, he’d call my uncle to “recover” the body. They’d tie the corpse to the bow of their boat and demand a hefty “recovery fee” from the victim’s family. It was the perfect crime, and the profits were substantial. Until one day, the body my uncle pulled up was my dad’s. Just like every person my dad had drowned, his death was ruled an accident. My mom was inconsolable with grief, but my uncle and the others looked strange. Later, my uncle told me something was wrong. After my dad was already dead, my uncle received a text message from him. 1 After my dad’s funeral, Grandpa gathered all the men in the family. That included my uncle, my two older cousins, and me. Uncle started by laying out the situation— The police estimated Dad’s time of death around 7 or 8 PM. But Uncle didn’t receive the text message from Dad until after midnight. That text was the reason Uncle took my cousins out on the boat to retrieve a body. Sure enough, he pulled one up. He just never expected it to be Dad. Dad definitely didn’t just drown. It had to be murder. He was a fish in water; he could drag a grown man under and slip away without breaking a sweat. He’d even go home, change clothes, and return to the shore to fake CPR once a crowd gathered. So the question was: who killed him? “It shouldn’t be an outsider. Dad, look at this text from the youngest,” Uncle said, handing his lit phone to Grandpa. My cousins and I leaned in. The message read: “A little bird fell in the water.” The sender was my dad. The timestamp was the night of his death. The problem was, this sentence was our code. It meant someone had drowned, and the body was ready for pickup. Uncle asked rhetorically, “Who else but family knows this code?” Grandpa frowned, glancing at us three boys. We looked at each other, bewildered. That was my own father, my cousins’ uncle. How could we do something like that? Even if we were heartless, what possible motive would we have? Grandpa realized it was impossible too, so he snapped at Uncle: “What are you saying? Don’t spout nonsense!” Uncle quickly explained: “No, I’m not saying the boys did it… I mean, did anyone leak our code?” As soon as the words left his mouth, my eldest cousin, Big Trev, shuddered violently next to me. 2 Uncle saw it too. He exploded in rage, roaring: “You little sh*t! Speak! Was it you?” Big Trev turned pale, stammering: “Dad, I… I didn’t mean to, I…” Uncle jumped up, raising his hand to smack him. My second cousin, Lil’ Trev, and I scrambled out of the way. Luckily, Grandpa stopped Uncle in time, shouting: “Stop it! What good will beating him do? You brute!” He beckoned to Big Trev. “Come here, son. Tell Grandpa… who did you tell?” Big Trev trembled as he approached Grandpa. “It… it was my buddy… Old Zhu from the village entrance…” He started sobbing. “I didn’t mean to! We were drinking, and it just… slipped out…” Uncle was stomping in fury. Grandpa sighed, trying to calm the room. “What’s done is done. We need to figure out what happened…” With Grandpa speaking, Uncle had to settle down. Grandpa looked at me pointedly. I knew my role. “If Old Zhu did it, I’ll go chop his whole family up.” It was my dad, after all. Even though we had no real affection for each other. Growing up watching people die in front of me desensitized me. Death was just a Tuesday. Grandpa frowned again, muttering to himself: “But… Old Zhu doesn’t have any beef with our family…” He turned to Uncle. “Eldest, go find Old Zhu’s father tomorrow. I’ll have a chat, test the waters… see if it’s a personal grudge against the youngest… or if he’s targeting all of us…” But Uncle didn’t respond. The man who was just raging stood frozen, staring blankly at his phone. Grandpa snapped, “What are you looking at? Did you hear me?” Uncle jolted, frantically turning the screen to Grandpa. “No, Dad, look at this!” On the screen was a new text message: “A little bird fell in the water.” Silence fell over the room. Even Grandpa went quiet. 3 Big Trev broke the silence first. “That number… that number looks like Old Zhu’s!” He pulled out his own phone, checked for a few seconds, and confirmed: “It is! That’s his number!” Grandpa’s frown deepened. Uncle hesitated, then asked carefully: “Dad… should we take the boat out?” Grandpa thought for a long while before instructing: “Go. But be careful… no matter whose body you find, or if you find nothing… keep quiet. Do not call the police. Come back and we’ll discuss.” Uncle nodded vigorously. He signaled us three to get the boat ready. Recovering bodies takes skill. The river isn’t a stagnant pond; bodies move. But we were pros. We knew the spots downstream where bodies got stuck. There was a cluster of jagged rocks that acted like a net. The banks there were thick with thorny brush, inaccessible by land. You had to take a boat. We knew the route by heart. Soon, we arrived. We killed the engine to avoid hitting the rocks. It was time for manual labor. Big Trev and Lil’ Trev tied safety ropes around their waists, ready to dive and check the rocks. I looked at the pitch-black water. The spotlight only illuminated a small patch. Fear crept into my gut. I couldn’t help but suggest: “Uncle, I’m not good at this part… my swimming isn’t great… can I stay on the boat and work the winch?” Uncle sensed my fear and waved his hand. “Fine, you stay. Your cousins know the drill… but you really need to work on your swimming… you have to take over your dad’s business one day…” I let out a breath. Uncle didn’t go in either. My cousins put on headlamps and dove in confidently. Bodies don’t float immediately. If they were caught in the rocks, they’d likely be underwater. Sure enough, a light signaled from the surface. Uncle steered the boat closer. It was Big Trev. He yelled: “Found it! Drop the rope!” Uncle threw down the winch cable. Big Trev dove back down. Soon, the rope was secured. Uncle cranked the winch. The body slowly dragged toward the boat, rising until it hit the bow… Big Trev shone his light on the face and shouted: “Holy sh*t! It really is Old Zhu!” Uncle locked the winch but frowned. He looked around, then shouted at Big Trev, who was still in the water: “Where’s your brother?” I realized it then— Lil’ Trev hadn’t come up yet. Big Trev froze. “Pull the safety rope! Fast!” 4 When we pulled Lil’ Trev up, he was completely unconscious. If Uncle hadn’t reacted fast, he would’ve drowned. On deck, Lil’ Trev coughed violently. Uncle cleared the mud and weeds from his mouth and nose. He tilted Lil’ Trev’s head back to open the airway. After vomiting a gallon of river water, Lil’ Trev finally gasped for air. But he was delirious. We rushed him home. My aunt was shocked and immediately started caring for him. I didn’t dare tell my mom; she was still grieving. Grandpa found it unbelievable. Lil’ Trev was a better swimmer than Big Trev. He’d dived that spot a hundred times. How could he drown? Lil’ Trev remained groggy but seemed out of danger. With Auntie watching him, Grandpa ordered us to dispose of Old Zhu’s body. “Your dad just died two days ago. If Old Zhu turns up dead too… the cops will get suspicious. Bury him… quick…” Uncle, Big Trev, and I found a spot and buried Old Zhu overnight. When we got back, Lil’ Trev had recovered significantly. He could open his eyes and speak. Grandpa gathered us to hear what happened. At the mention of it, terror flooded Lil’ Trev’s face. He started shaking. His trembling lips managed only a few words: “Head… a human head! Eyes… eyes glowing…”

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I posted a video of my mom pulling money out of a birthday cake online. It was supposed to be a sweet, simple moment, documenting a happy family memory. But the video blew up. The comments section didn’t share my joy. Instead, it was filled with hostility and malicious speculation. 1 “Look at her face drop when she sees the one-dollar bills. What a long face.” “She’s pulling it so slowly, probably counting how much it is. This family is suffocating.” “Finally smiled when she saw the benjamins. Disgusting.” “When the last hundred came out, her expression was totally: ‘That’s it? Just this?’” Some people even went as far as screenshotting my mom’s expressions and adding their own twisted captions. For my mom’s 60th birthday, I wanted to make her happy, so I prepared a money-pulling cake. I put in $999 total, arranged from smallest to largest denomination. Nine $1 bills at the start, followed by $20s, $50s, and finally $100s. It was this order that fueled the malicious interpretations in the comments. They insisted my mom’s face was dark as thunder when seeing the ones, and only brightened up when the hundreds appeared. They said her slow pulling at the start was her counting the money. They claimed my dad’s moving lips were him counting along. The more I read, the colder my heart felt. Worried my mom would see this and get hurt, I started replying to comments one by one. “It’s not like that. Mom was pulling slowly because she was afraid of breaking the cake. It’s her first time receiving a gift like this, she was just nervous.” “Mom didn’t start smiling just because of the hundred dollar bills. Actually, Dad said something behind her right then, and she turned back to joke with him, saying ‘It’s not for you, why are you happy?’” I was anxious and heartbroken, explaining until 2 AM. But no one believed me. Instead, they mocked me for lying to myself. They called me a “blood bag” raising my younger brother. Yes, the comment that stung the most was: “I don’t even need to think about it, I know you have a brother.” That sentence made me falter. Because I really do have a brother. I couldn’t help but pick up my phone and watch the video of Mom pulling the money again, carefully this time. Then I was shocked to discover. What the comments said seemed true. It was just too coincidental. Mom’s face really was stiff while pulling the ones. Her facial muscles relaxed when the fifties came out. And when the first hundred appeared, she started smiling. She pulled the small bills slowly, then sped up when she got to the hundreds. And Dad’s lips were indeed moving. Looking exactly like the netizens said—counting money. My heart sank lower with every rewatch. But I still refused to believe my parents didn’t love me. I insisted it must be a coincidence. Just over-interpretation by strangers. But I seemed to be influenced by them, actually starting to feel these coincidences were… open to misinterpretation. I couldn’t sleep all night, tossing and turning. The next day, my dad called. “Delete that video right now! Your mom read the comments and didn’t sleep a wink, cried all night.” “Why did you have to post our private life online for people to judge? Don’t you know people hate seeing others happy? Showing off like that, are you sick in the head?” Dad’s tone was furious and intense. But I didn’t blame him. I knew he loved Mom dearly. He was just lashing out because he was heartbroken for her. “Dad, deleting it now would make us look guilty. Don’t worry, I’ll figure out a way to solve this and clear Mom’s name. I won’t let them cyberbully her.” I told Dad I was explaining in the comments. But he interrupted me, unwilling to listen. 2 “What’s there to explain? We know how we live, we don’t need them to believe it. They have no right to comment. Just delete it, don’t make me angry.” “Are you happy now that your mom is sick from anger?” “I know what you’re thinking. You just wanted to show off your filial piety, gave a little money and had to broadcast it to the world.” “For your vanity, you hung your mom out to dry online. Have you no conscience?!” Dad’s words were getting more and more out of line. His tone was so heavy, the condemnation so obvious, it reached a point I couldn’t bear. I choked up, “Dad, how can you say that? How could I have such intentions? I’m hurting too seeing Mom getting scolded.” “Can you stop talking to me like that?” “Alright, alright, what nonsense are you spouting?” Mom’s voice cut in from the other end. She must have grabbed the phone. Her gentle but clear voice came through. “Baby, don’t listen to your dad. He’s hot-tempered, speaks without thinking. Mom knows you aren’t like that. It’s okay, don’t be sad.” “Mom, I really didn’t want anyone to scold you…” “I didn’t mean to.” “I know, I know. But baby, just delete the video. Mom doesn’t need strangers to understand. We know the truth. I don’t want to be gossiped about by people we know and don’t know, okay?” Since Mom put it that way, I couldn’t refuse. But deep down, I resisted this. Because deleting it felt like admitting “Mom is a terrible person.” I didn’t want that. The more Mom “compromised” and bore the insults to keep the peace, the more uncomfortable I felt. So I set the video to private. Thinking I’d make it public again once I found a good way to clarify things. But unexpectedly, after I hid the video, even more people came to my DMs to curse me out. [OP, why did you delete the video? Guilty conscience? Big fat blood bag.] [Pathetic and sad. Netizens tried to wake you up, but you won’t listen. You really can’t wake someone pretending to be asleep.] [OP, I dare you to buy a gold bracelet for your mom, then tell her it’s gold-plated silver. See her reaction. If you have the guts, record it and post it. If it’s really a misunderstanding, I’ll kneel and apologize, and post a video clarification across the whole internet. Dare you?] Looking at this DM, an idea struck me. This might actually be a good way to solve the problem. The next day after work, I rushed to my parents’ house. I wanted to tell them in advance, not because I worried they were misogynistic and didn’t love me as the netizens claimed. But because I was afraid they wouldn’t be natural on camera, giving the nitpicking netizens more ammo to drag Mom into the storm again. When I arrived, I found my brother was back too. Which was weird. Yesterday on Mom’s birthday, he said he was busy as hell, couldn’t make it back for her birthday, and probably wouldn’t have time to visit for the next two or three months. So why was he back the very next day? Did he also see the online drama and come back worried about Mom? I approached suspiciously, wanting to hear what they were saying. “Mom, tell me the truth, what were you thinking when you pulled money from the cake? Was it really like the netizens said, you thought it was too little?” My brother, Jason, was grinning playfully. Mom glared at him, annoyed. “Get out of here.” 3 “Mom, I’m not my sister, what can’t you say to your own son? When those ones came out one by one, I don’t believe you didn’t have thoughts.” “Tell me, tell me, I’m just curious. I won’t tell Sis.” Mom was worn down by him. I thought she would get angry and scold him. Just like she scolded me every time I said something she didn’t like. But she laughed. A hearty laugh, without any dissatisfaction. “I know, I can’t even trust my own son.” “But I knew your sister wouldn’t give too little. She isn’t you.” A short sentence, seemingly praising me. But for some reason, I wasn’t happy hearing it. The netizens’ questions kept swirling in my mind. “What did your brother give for her birthday? In your life, is the treatment for your brother and you really the same? Is the effort really equal?” Brother’s birthday gift? I didn’t know. Mom just casually mentioned he mailed a gift. As for what it was, how much it cost, she didn’t mention a word. When I jokingly pressed, she lectured me instead. “Filial piety is about the heart, no need to compare with your brother. Why give yourself so much pressure?” Implying that what my brother sent was precious beyond compare, far beyond my reach. Scaring me into silence. But right now, why would Mom say: “I knew your sister wouldn’t give too little, she isn’t you.” So contradictory, so strange. My head was splitting, but I still couldn’t figure it out. Or maybe it wasn’t that I couldn’t figure it out, but that the clearest, most logical path—the one netizens had already pointed out—was one I was unwilling, didn’t want to, and couldn’t believe. I turned and left. I went to the nearest jewelry store and bought a gold bracelet for $4,000. But I didn’t go home immediately. Instead, I waited patiently for International Women’s Day. I called Jason to go home together to celebrate Mom. “Oh, Sis, I can’t make it back. Didn’t I tell you? I’m swamped.” “You go first, I’ll send Mom a gift later.” “Hey, hey, what did I tell you guys? Can this go here? Why are you working so carelessly?” He seemed really busy. Even in this one-minute call, he was distracted talking to his employees. “Alright, Sis, I’m busy here. Gotta go. You handle it, you know Mom’s not picky, she likes whatever you give.” He hung up so quickly. I didn’t even have a chance to puncture his lie. Lie? I was startled by my subconscious thought. Did I already stop believing him? I put down the phone with a bitter smile, put the bracelet box in my bag, and drove home. Dad was watering the vegetable garden in front of the house. Mom was holding the hose for him. Seeing me back, Mom handed the hose to Dad and walked over in her rain boots. “Work is so busy, why did you come back? Don’t always worry about home.” Mom said with a smile. But I don’t know if it was my mindset, but I felt Mom’s eyes drifting, constantly looking at my hands and behind me while saying this. I couldn’t help but be suspicious: Is she checking if I brought her anything? Such thoughts were painful. I suddenly didn’t want to take out the gold bracelet. Who said it? Using lies to prove lies only gets you lies. “Mom…” Feeling emotional, I wanted to open myself up completely, to lay out all my struggles and internal conflict. 4 To talk to her sincerely and without tricks. “Let’s go inside first.” Mom interrupted me. Her tone was cold and distant. Suddenly scattering all my courage. “How is this child regressing? Who comes home empty-handed?” Dad, who lacked tact, muttered. I didn’t respond. He became more dissatisfied: “Don’t you know what day it is?” “It’s fine if you don’t come back, but since you did, did you really bring nothing? Coming back for Women’s Day with just your mouth, making your mom serve you, how can you be so shameless?” “Shut up!” Mom shouted at him sternly. “What are you saying? The child didn’t prepare anything, are you going to force it? Have some shame!” “Those with heart don’t need teaching, those without can’t be taught. Why waste words? Don’t you know your own child? Is she that heartless?” I thought I must be crazy. I actually felt Mom’s words were full of sarcasm and mockery. Even though Mom had said similar things before, I never interpreted them with such malice. I always deeply believed Mom was genuinely scolding Dad. My heart grew heavier. I took the gold bracelet out of my bag and handed it to Mom. “Mom, Women’s Day gift. Hope you like it.” Joy and excitement visibly burst onto Mom’s face. “Why buy this? Waste of money, gold is expensive now. I won’t take it, go return it.” Mom verbally refused, but her hand stayed extended, letting Dad eagerly put it on her. “How much was this? Thousands?” “No, it’s not real gold. It’s gold-plated silver. Just a few hundred bucks.” I steadied myself and finally said the sentence I had prepared for so long. Mom’s smile froze. But she recovered quickly, the corners of her lips curving up again. “You young people have lots of expenses. Don’t worry about buying me gifts in the future, I have everything.” Saying this, she took off the bracelet from her wrist, sighed, and placed it in my hand. “You’re almost thirty and don’t even have jewelry. Keep it for yourself.” Then, without giving me a chance to speak, she walked alone to the kitchen. I followed. Seeing her sitting alone on the stool, looking so disappointed. Dad snapped out of it and instinctively scolded me. “You’re so old, how do you not understand basic etiquette? If you can’t bear to give gold, then don’t give anything. Giving a fake? Embarrassing! Is this how your mom and I raised you?” These words seemed to speak to Mom’s heart. She suddenly turned her face away, covered her mouth, and sobbed quietly. The old me would have rushed to comfort her in a panic, asking why. Trying everything to fix the mistake and make her happy. But the current me felt like I’d been doused in ice water. The netizens’ words replayed in my mind: “Big fool deceiving herself.” “Still defending your parents? Idiot counting money for the people who sold you.” “If your family isn’t misogynistic, I’ll eat shit doing a handstand.” These words were clearly biased, emotional venting meant to incite conflict. I shouldn’t have listened. But they drilled into my heart like cold snakes. Gnawing deep into my soul. I held up the gold bracelet, walked step by step towards Mom, looked into her eyes and asked. “Mom, do you also think this gift is too light, like Dad said?” “Do you dislike it for not being expensive enough?” I held back tears, stubbornly trying to put the bracelet back on her wrist.

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The villain of this story is a chatterbox, while I am mute. To maintain his “cool and mysterious” persona, he only opens his mouth around me. As he got more comfortable, his filter completely disappeared. “Got confessed to again today. That girl praised me so much I almost ascended to heaven.” “Why aren’t you saying anything? Jealous?” “I didn’t care about you before, but the way you ignore me is kinda hot. I’m obsessed.” “I love you, you love me, we’re a happy family~” “Alright, since we’re mutually in love, let’s get married after graduation.” My eyes widened, and I rasped out painfully, “I don’t…” The villain clamped a hand over my mouth. “Shh, stop your gibberish. Give me a kiss.” 1 Chase and I stared at each other. It took him a good while to remove his hand from my mouth. “Wait… you can talk?” I nodded, then shook my head. “Yes… but it hurts.” Due to an injury when I was little, I could only manage two or three words at a time. And every word came with a searing pain in my throat. Over time, I just stopped talking and became known as the “mute girl.” After sitting next to Chase for so long, this was the first time I’d spoken. I was truly pushed to my limit. 2 I’ve always known I live in a novel. Alcoholic dad, weak mom, rebellious brother, and broken me. But I’m not the heroine. Just a background character. I thought I’d have zero interaction with the main cast. Until senior year, when I was placed in their class. And ended up desk-mates with the villain, Chase Sterling. Chase was a rich playboy. Cold, violent, prone to fighting at the drop of a hat. At first, I was terrified, afraid I’d annoy him and get punched into orbit. Maybe because I couldn’t speak, and Chase happened to have a soft spot for the disabled. We got along surprisingly well. No matter how much of a villain Chase was, he was still just an eighteen-year-old boy. Arrogant, loves to show off, addicted to shooting air hoops. And, extremely chatty. To maintain his aloof image, he only talked to me. Since I was mute, I couldn’t spill his secrets even if I wanted to. So, I was forced to know the color of Chase’s underwear every day. And the details of his mom fighting his dad’s mistresses. And the affair between the security guard and the cafeteria lady. … I knew way too much. I desperately wanted to rebel and tell Chase I was mute, not deaf. But I didn’t dare. Over time, Chase let himself go completely. He stopped fighting, stopped sleeping in class. Opened his eyes and just started yapping. Even when I pretended to sleep, he’d lean into my ear and whisper nonstop. I couldn’t take it anymore. I pinched his lips together with two fingers. With my other hand, I pressed a finger to my own lips in a “shh” gesture. Chase’s face turned beet red instantly. Terrified, I quickly let go. Unexpectedly, Chase didn’t hit me. He just stayed red-faced for half the class, stealing glances at me all afternoon. Occasionally letting out a creepy giggle. From then on, Chase changed. From a chatterbox to a chatterbox who seemed to like me. 3 Chase was emo. Since I rejected him, he hadn’t spoken to me for three days. I stole a glance at him. Chase was frowning at a book, showing me only his side profile. I had to admit, Chase was even better looking than the male lead, Liam. High nose, thin lips, sharp jawline. But shouldn’t he be fighting Liam for the heroine? Why would he like a mute like me? Sensing my gaze, Chase scoffed. “Fell in love with me?” Scared, I shook my head vigorously and looked away. Actually, I was afraid of losing Chase as a friend. Because I couldn’t speak, I had no friends. No one wanted to communicate with a mute. Except Chase. He could talk my ear off with gossip all day and never get bored. I didn’t want to lose this friend. The more I thought about it, the sadder I got, and tears started to fall. “Sigh.” A faint sigh came from beside me. A box of mints slid in front of me. Chase pulled his hand back, leaning lazily against the window. “Good for the throat.” I sniffled and popped one in my mouth. Peppermint flavor. [Are we still friends?] I wrote on a piece of paper. Chase didn’t answer directly. “I’m taking you to the hospital this weekend.” I looked at him instinctively. He added, “No isn’t an option.” 4 My throat couldn’t be cured. I could actually speak before I was five. Then Mom had my brother, and Dad started hating me. One night, drunk, he choked me. When I woke up, Mom cried and said my vocal cords were damaged permanently. Since then, I haven’t spoken a complete sentence. So when the doctor looked troubled, I didn’t feel much. But Chase kept asking, “She can say two or three words, maybe there’s hope?” “She can vocalize? What does she say?” the doctor asked. Chase replied darkly, “‘I don’t.’” The doctor and Chase talked for a long time. I didn’t know the details; Chase sent me to wait in the hallway. He didn’t come out for a full hour. Suddenly, someone called my name from the end of the hall. I looked up; it was the male lead, Liam. Liam was our class president and also my neighbor. But for the past eighteen years, we weren’t close. Actually, we had zero interaction. I was wondering why Liam would call me. He walked up to me and crouched down to meet my eyes. “Why are you at the hospital? Are you hurt?” I shook my head and pointed at my throat. “Checking your throat?” he asked. I nodded. Liam glanced at the closed office door. “Who brought you?” Even though we weren’t close, he was my neighbor for eighteen years. He knew my parents wouldn’t bring me to a doctor. I opened my mouth. “…Chase.” Just then, the door opened. Chase stood there holding a bag of medicine, backlit. His face darkened instantly when he saw Liam. Liam spoke first. “Her throat can’t be cured.” He meant me, of course. I lowered my head, fiddling with my fingers silently. “None of your business,” Chase snapped impatiently. “Did you take her to a doctor? Did a doctor diagnose her?” “Stop being so self-righteous.” Chase dragged me away. I looked back; Liam was still standing there. “What are you looking at?” Chase’s sarcastic voice sounded. He didn’t wait for my answer. “We’ve been desk-mates for so long, and you barely say two words to me. But the moment Liam asks, you talk.” “But at least you said my name.” “Or else…” Or else what? I asked with my eyes. He huffed. “Or else I’d be jealous.” The boy’s eyes were shining like stars, making my heart race. I wrote on a sticky note: [What did the doctor say?] “Can be cured.” My eyes widened in disbelief. I rasped, “…Can?” Chase nodded affirmatively. He grinned at me recklessly. “But… the process is a bit complicated.”

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I got into a fight with the male lead’s sister. She was screaming at the top of her lungs, “My brother has a gorgeous girlfriend! Does yours?” “My brother has parents who love him and are mentally stable! Does yours?” I sneered. “My brother would eat sh*t if I asked him to. Would yours?” That night, my brother came home after being rejected for the seventh time, looking like his world had ended. Then he saw me squatting at the door, wearing the most ingratiating smile I could muster. He paused, sighing helplessly. “What did you do this time?” Before I could answer, his phone rang. The man on the other end hesitated before saying, “You win, okay?” “But eating that… I really can’t bring myself to do it.” 1 After hanging up the phone, my brother called out to me as I tried to shrink into the shadows and sneak inside. “Mia Jiang, get back here.” I shuddered. Full name. He was actually mad. I slumped my shoulders and shuffled back, looking up at him. My entire body screamed guilty. “Bro.” I called him sweetly, trying to butter him up. But his gaze remained heavy and unwavering. “I didn’t mean to.” I’ve known since I was little that my brother, Julian Jiang, is a villain. And his nemesis is the male lead, who has everything—a successful career and a perfect love life. The male lead has a sister with a big mouth who happens to be in my class. Let’s call her Loudmouth. Every day, she brags in class. “My brother finally succeeded in his confession! Now he has a super beautiful girlfriend. That sister even bought me several dresses. I love them so much!” In contrast, that day my brother came to pick me up thirty minutes late. His eyes were red, and he looked like he’d lost his soul. I tugged at his shirt and asked what was wrong. He forced a smile, bent down, and ruffled my hair. “Nothing. Just… the person your brother likes already likes someone else.” “So what if she likes someone else? If you like her, keep chasing her.” I tilted my head and looked at him. “Are you scared?” After the parent-teacher conference, Loudmouth started sharing snacks her parents prepared. “My parents really love me and my brother. They prepare so many snacks every day, I’m getting tired of eating them.” She spotted me. “Mia, why does your brother always come to the meetings? Don’t your parents care about you?” I put down my textbook and told her seriously, “My brother and I came from an orphanage. We don’t have parents.” “There are people without parents?” Loudmouth gasped. “That’s so sad. There are two fewer people in the world to love you and your brother.” I knew she didn’t mean any harm; her words were just a bit sharp. So I replied, “I have my brother, and that’s enough.” Maybe because we both have brothers, Loudmouth loves sticking to me. Every other sentence is “my brother this, my brother that.” The argument happened that afternoon. Loudmouth said, “It’s so annoying. That pretty sister is already with my brother, but there are still blind people confessing to her, trying to steal her away!” She was insulting my brother. Of course, I couldn’t let it slide. We started arguing, and eventually, the topic returned to our brothers. Loudmouth was smug. “My brother has twenty properties and seven sports cars. Does yours?” “My brother has a gorgeous girlfriend. Does yours?” “My brother has parents who are mentally and physically healthy. Does yours?” … I was speechless. My brother had none of those things. But we were this deep in; how could I admit defeat? So I sneered, “My brother would eat sh*t if I asked him to. Would yours?” That sentence killed the competition. Loudmouth was dumbfounded. After school, I saw the male lead picking up Loudmouth. She was hugging his leg, crying and begging him to eat sh*t. I didn’t dare look again. I stared straight ahead and walked home like a robot. 2 My brother rarely misses picking me up. Usually, if he’s busy, he messages the neighbor, Auntie Wu, to pick me up along with her granddaughter. I waited at the school gate for a long time, but Julian never showed up. Seeing the sky turning dark, I decided to walk home. As soon as I got home, I saw a thick stack of documents on the table. It included my personal info, daily habits, and even details like how I only eat the leafy parts of vegetables. I had a bad feeling. I put down my bag and snuck into my brother’s study. Julian never hides anything from me, so I easily opened his computer. The last song played was “I Once Thought about Ending It All.” Recent search history: “How to leave all inheritance to a minor?” “Top 10 orphanages in the country.” “Will a brother’s death leave psychological trauma on a sister?” … I took a deep breath, shut down the computer, and restored the study to its original state. Then, I called Loudmouth. Thirty minutes later, my brother came back. He was holding a bouquet of undelivered flowers, the corners of his eyes red, his smile forced. If I remember correctly, this was Julian’s seventh failed confession. The person he likes is the heroine. The heroine will always end up with the male lead. My brother is the villain. But he doesn’t know that. He just thinks he’s not good enough. I walked up and hugged Julian’s waist. Looking up at him, I said, “Bro, you’re finally back.” “I cooked today! I made dinner for you.” I brought out a pot of soup with a weird color and a strange smell. “Midterm results are out too!” I handed him three test papers. All three had single-digit scores. Added together, they were less than my brother’s age. Julian’s hand holding the papers started to tremble. I continued to drop bombs. “Bro, my teacher said you should take me to the hospital. She thinks I might have ADHD. What’s ADHD?” My brother closed his eyes. When he opened them again, the light was gone. He hesitated, “I remember you got full marks in all subjects last semester?” “Yeah.” I stirred the soup. “But studying is boring. When I grow up, I want tattoos. Uncle Dragon next door has tattoos all over his arms. So cool.” Julian frowned. “Mia, where did you learn all this?” He lectured me seriously for half an hour. I hung my head and pretended to listen. After the lecture, my brother put on an apron and went to the kitchen. Just then, the phone rang. I looked at him guiltily. Julian paused, sighing helplessly. “What did you do this time?” He answered the phone. The man on the other end hesitated before saying, “You win, okay?” “But eating that… I really can’t bring myself to do it.” Before my brother could ask me what was going on, my smartwatch rang. Loudmouth was crying so loudly her voice echoed through the room. “Waaaah Mia! My brother refuses to eat sh*t!” “He said he can do anything and give me whatever I want. I just want him to eat sh*t, but he won’t!” “Can I trade brothers with you? I want one who eats sh*t!” 3 Dead silence in the living room. I peeked at Julian’s expression. He pushed aside the soup and my test papers, lifting his chin. “Sit.” When my brother keeps a straight face, he’s actually quite scary. I obediently sat opposite him and bowed my head. “Bro, I was wrong.” “Was that call from Lucas’s sister?” I nodded. My brother asked, “Since when?” “What?” I looked up, confused. Julian closed his eyes. “Trading brothers. Since when did you want to trade brothers?” Before I could answer, he started blaming himself. “Sorry, Mia. I haven’t done enough. The company has been in trouble recently, and I didn’t take care of your feelings.” “I know I’m not a good brother. Lucas is… someone like him, it’s normal for you to like him and want him as your brother.” Julian looked dejected. He forced a smile. “I didn’t take good care of you.” Seeing him getting sadder, I kicked my legs, jumped off the chair, and grabbed his hand. “But I don’t want to trade with Sophie!” “You are the best brother in the whole world!” Julian stared blankly at my hand holding his. “But I don’t have twenty properties or seven sports cars.” I shook my head firmly. “Doesn’t matter!” “I don’t have a beautiful girlfriend.” “I don’t care!” “I don’t have parents either.” “I have you, and that’s enough.” “Mhm.” Julian said quietly, “But your brother won’t eat that either…” I shut my mouth immediately. At that moment, someone banged on the door loudly. Loudmouth Sophie’s piercing voice came through. “Mia Jiang! I’m here to trade brothers!” Two more people squeezed into our tiny living room. Sophie dragged the male lead, Lucas, inside. She wasn’t shy at all. She looked around, then fixed her eyes on Julian. Her eyes lit up like lightbulbs. Sophie pushed Lucas towards me with satisfaction and patted my shoulder generously. “I’ll trade you this useless brother of mine for now. You go live in my villa tonight. I’m staying here with Brother Julian.” Lucas, being the author’s favorite son, was perfect in every way. His only flaw was being a “sis-con.” He spoiled his sister, who was thirteen years younger, rotten. Knowing his sister was just acting on a whim, he said awkwardly, “Mr. Jiang, can Sophie stay here tonight? We can discuss the accommodation fee.” “What do you mean ‘tonight’?” Sophie looked at her brother with disgust. “You’re so useless, I don’t want you anymore. From now on, I’m Brother Julian’s sister. I’m living here forever.” She pushed me forward. “Mia, all my dresses, dolls, and snacks are yours. Just say yes and trade brothers with me.” I didn’t expect Sophie to be so obsessed with this trade. Just as I was about to refuse, the silent Julian spoke up. His face was calm. “Okay. She’ll trade.” 4 I ran into my room. Grabbed clothes from the closet and stuffed them into my small backpack. Cheers from Sophie filled the living room. I could vaguely hear Lucas trying to persuade her gently. “How about I stay with you? I’m worried about leaving you alone.” Sophie didn’t care. “Leave the nanny here. You go. Mr. Lucas, we are not related anymore. Don’t call me sister.” Lucas kept trying to persuade her. I sniffled, suddenly wanting to cry. Julian didn’t want me anymore. He thought I was a burden and had been planning to send me away. Even if I failed exams or got tattoos, he wouldn’t care anymore. My brother didn’t want me. The door closed softly. Julian had come in. He took out the messily stuffed clothes from my backpack and folded them one by one. He even remembered to pack my favorite elephant water bottle. After packing, Julian pinched my cheek gently. “Let’s go.” “Bro.” Staring at his back, I mumbled, “Do you not want me anymore?” Julian seemed to stiffen. After a long while, he turned around and smiled again. “How could I?” Liars grow long noses. Sitting in the Chu family car, I hugged my backpack and looked at Julian through the window, trying to memorize his face. He was bending down, listening to Sophie, smiling occasionally. Liar. Next time I see Julian, his nose will definitely be longer. I turned my head away, refusing to look at him. The Chu villa was even bigger than I imagined. The car stopped at the gate, and the heroine, Claire Ji, was waiting there. I’d only heard of Claire from Julian and Sophie. Seeing her in person, I was dazed. Claire held a teddy bear, leaned close, her eyes shining. The evening breeze blew her hair, carrying a faint scent of jasmine. “Little Mia, welcome.” My face felt hot. I buried it in my backpack. “Mhm.” The adults must have communicated because dinner was all my favorite foods. Maybe because I tasted my own dark cuisine earlier, I had no appetite. I ate a few bites and left the table. I almost got lost walking in the villa. Finally, Claire led me to my room. “Go in and see. Do you like the room I decorated for you?” The room had soft carpets, a closet full of pretty dresses, and dolls everywhere. Julian spoiled me, but his small company had just started and was already facing bankruptcy. I had never lived in such a big room. “I like it.” I nodded and added, “Thank you, big sister.” Claire poked my little ponytail and left satisfied. In the middle of the night, I woke up with a stomachache. Maybe the dark cuisine did it. I was sweating cold sweat. I fumbled for the lamp switch but couldn’t find it. My slippers were missing too. Barefoot on the carpet, looking at the pitch-black unfamiliar room, an unprecedented wave of grievance hit me. I squatted down, hugging my knees. Curled up in a ball. The pain came in waves. I gritted my teeth, refusing to make a sound. After who knows how long, whispered conversation came from outside. “Do you think Mia is asleep?” “She didn’t eat much dinner. Text Julian and ask what else she likes.” “The AC seems low. Is she cold?” … The door wasn’t fully closed. It was pushed open a crack. Warm light from the hallway spilled in. Through my sweat-drenched bangs, I looked up with difficulty. “Mia!” The moment Claire hugged me, I gripped her shirt tightly. I was rushed to the hospital overnight. Luckily, it wasn’t serious. When I woke up, Claire and Lucas were still by my bed. Only a dim lamp was on. I moved slightly, and they noticed immediately. “Does it still hurt anywhere?” Seeing me shake my head, Lucas asked, “Can’t sleep? Want me to tell a story?” “Forget it, you only know the same few stories. I’ll tell one.” “Long, long ago…” I fell asleep to Claire’s gentle voice. Closing my eyes, I thought spitefully: If only Lucas and Claire were my real brother and sister. Julian didn’t want me, so I didn’t want him either.

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In the dead of night, I caught Julian whispering on the phone, his voice dripping with tenderness. “Sleep tight, darling. Don’t cry. I’ll come see you as soon as I’m done with work.” He refuses to divorce me, yet he cheats on me just to torture me? What’s the point? I decided to turn up the heat. So, I hired a senior from my university to play the role of my affair partner. We paraded around right under Julian’s nose, making sure he saw everything. I figured with both of us cheating, this marriage would be so rotten he’d finally agree to a divorce. 1 At 4 AM, I went downstairs for a glass of water and heard Julian on the balcony, keeping his voice low. In the darkness, his deep, affectionate tone cut right through the silence. “Sleep tight, darling. Don’t cry. I’ll come see you as soon as I’m done with work.” My heart seized, and all sleepiness vanished instantly. I quickly crouched down, using the stair railing to hide myself. Hearing him lock his phone screen, return to his room, and close the door… Only then did I let out a breath and reach a conclusion— He was cheating. They say when a man cheats, the wife always has a sixth sense, stumbling upon the truth through inevitable coincidences. Look at me: thirsty at this exact ungodly hour, out of water in the bedroom, forced downstairs to catch him on the phone. If that’s not divine intervention, what is? Julian is nine years older than me. Back when my dad’s company was facing bankruptcy and desperately needed funds, Julian generously invested three hundred million, saving my dad from disaster. My dad knew Julian didn’t do charity. He asked what Julian wanted in return. Julian leaned back on the leather sofa, just smiling at my dad. After several repayment plans were rejected, my dad thought of selling his daughter. “My daughter, Dream, is gentle and pretty. A fortune teller said she brings luck to a household. Does Mr. Sterling need a wife?” Julian stopped smiling and said solemnly, “Then I’ll follow my father-in-law’s arrangement.” I was a freshman in college, only nineteen. My dad persuaded me: “Mr. Sterling is handsome, steady, and experienced. Marrying him isn’t a loss for you.” A year later, I married Julian. On our wedding day, I overheard his subordinates gossiping. They said he had a “white moonlight”—the one that got away—but since he had to marry, he just found someone to make do. After the wedding, I moved into Julian’s villa in the Riverside District. For three years, I lived upstairs, he lived downstairs. We were like neighbors, like roommates, but not like husband and wife. Year-round, he was always busy. The number of times we ate together could be counted on one hand. In the business world, he was a renaissance man: calm, decisive, with a unique vision and precise decision-making. Headlines were full of photos of his gentle, restrained smile. To promote a new menswear line, he even modeled himself, taking a set of photos under the green trees of Southern University. Approaching thirty, he stood quietly under the tree, blending maturity and youth perfectly, balancing introversion and flamboyance. It caused a sensation at Southern University. Those photos moved my heart too. But so what? He didn’t love me. He hadn’t touched me in three years. I was in the prime of my youth. Seeing classmates cuddling with their boyfriends… I felt a sense of loss, like my youth was being strangled in the cradle. The culprit behind all this was Julian. Because of his ridiculous “return on investment,” he gambled with my life. I brought up divorce with him, two or three times a year. The first year, he replied: “Your father’s company is still in crisis. Divesting now, have you thought it through?” The second year, my dad’s company started making steady profits. I brought up divorce again. He replied: “Mrs. Sterling, a marriage contract isn’t child’s play, but a lifelong commitment. Think about it again.” The third year, he replied: “It seems you haven’t thought it through yet. Keep thinking.” Always the cold “thinking,” mixed with considerations of family interests. True, my reasons weren’t strong enough, and he did help my family. But now it’s different. He cheated. I was a little sad, but also vaguely excited. 2 I found a senior I’d recently met, Sawyer. Sawyer was sunny and handsome, not only the student council president but also a part-time race car driver. Rumor had it he was every girl’s ideal type on campus. Once, I saw him working at a convenience store and knew he needed money, so I proposed a deal. “You just need to play my boyfriend. Three thousand a pop, cash on the spot. Deal?” Sawyer frowned, looking confused. “Is your husband bad to you? Why use this method to divorce?” I didn’t want to explain, just said, “Will you take the job, Senior? It is tricky. My husband has some influence, so there might be personal risk.” Sawyer smiled. “I was just worried about your reputation.” “Don’t worry. My husband is cheating too. If he dares to expose me, I’ll expose him. I have nothing to lose.” Sawyer choked, looking a bit speechless. Probably scared by the adult world. But a moment later, he accepted with interest: “Sure.” My second preparation was hiring a private investigator to look into Julian. Results came quickly. Julian’s “white moonlight” was his childhood sweetheart, Ginger, who had emigrated to New Zealand. She happened to be going through a divorce recently. His late-night calls were ninety percent likely to her. One in the country, one abroad—physical contact was unlikely, but emotional cheating was equally unforgivable. I told the PI to keep a close eye on Julian. Then, I started my cheating plan. I arranged to meet Sawyer in the commercial district below Julian’s company. The PI said Julian often went to a Huaiyang restaurant there to discuss business. So I dragged Sawyer there. Just in time to see Julian leading two people into a private room named “Misty Jiangnan.” Not long after, out of the corner of my eye, I saw Julian walking out with his long legs. Seeing Sawyer and me sitting conspicuously in the lobby dining, his steps faltered, almost tripping. I pretended not to see him, laughing with Sawyer, and even deliberately picked up a piece of lily bulb to feed him. Then I took a tissue and wiped Sawyer’s lips. Sawyer, back to Julian, flashed a smile at me. He was born handsome, his eyes affectionate, and his ears even turned red. I thought to myself, Sawyer is too good at acting; I have to keep up. So when Sawyer fed me, I responded with equal affection. Julian must be fuming, wishing he could sign the divorce papers right then and there. To redeem the humiliation he suffered from me. Sure enough, less than ten seconds later, my phone flashed. A text from Julian: [Where are you?] Acting requires commitment. I looked around guiltily, performing the “sneakiness” of an affair to perfection. Actually, I kind of hoped he’d show up and expose me, but he seemed to have hidden away. So I didn’t reply. After eating for forty minutes and digesting, I slowly took out my phone and replied to Julian: [At the school cafeteria.] Blatant deception from your wife—you should be furious, right? Burn, Mr. Sterling’s apoplectic rage! However, the chat box kept showing “Typing…” About ten minutes later, a message appeared: [Hmm, cafeteria food isn’t good. Starting tomorrow, I’ll have the butler send you meals.] Me: [No need, no need. I’m happy eating with classmates.] Julian: [Be good, don’t be stubborn with me, or I’ll have to deliver it myself.] Me: [Oh, okay, let the butler send it then.] “…” Shouldn’t he immediately appear in front of Sawyer and me, catching us in the act? Then, angrily sign the divorce papers. From then on, we go our separate ways, he marries his divorced white moonlight, and they live happily ever after. That day, the PI reported back— He hastily ended the restaurant meeting, went back to the company, and dragged the key staff into a meeting. Black-faced the whole time. Anyone who spoke out of turn got scolded like a dog. Also, he hired someone to follow me. 3 With the battle started, I was careful everywhere. At night, I deliberately came home late. The villa was pitch black and silent. I thought Julian wasn’t back yet. Entering the living room, I found a shadow on the sofa. Startled, I quickly turned on the lights. Julian looked up at me, face weary. The kind of exhaustion after a massive rage. His resentful gaze lasted two seconds, quickly covered by calm. “You’re back. Is everything going well at school lately?” His voice was pressed low, suppressing all emotions. I replied lightly and happily, “Very smooth. And you, Mr. Sterling?” “Mm, all good.” Like nothing had happened. His deep, sharp gaze fell on my bag, where a newly bought charm hung— A heart shape formed by black and white swans necking. Symbolizing love. His hand resting on the sofa unconsciously scratched the fabric. Felt like the next second, he’d rush up, rip off my charm, and throw it in the trash. Stalemate for five seconds. He let go, squeezing out an ugly smile: “What’s that?” “Just a little charm, a classmate bought it.” Actually, I bought it myself, specifically to provoke him. He nodded expressionlessly, politely and difficulty praising: “Nice.” My only evaluation of his calm reaction: Sly old fox. Time to add more fuel. That night, I shuttled back and forth between the living room, the island, and the second floor several times. Humming a popular little love song in a great mood: “At 4 AM, I saw the begonias awake, perhaps secret love is hidden in tears…” “At 5 AM, wanting to lull this longing to sleep…” Didn’t his call happen at 4 AM? Such an obvious hint, wonder what he thinks… Since the affair plan started, I began changing my image. Usually bare-faced, now I started wearing light makeup. Swapped the cartoon cotton pajamas for a slim, sexy silk nightgown. The innocent student vibe dropped by eighty percent instantly. Julian sat on the living room sofa the whole time, typing away on his keyboard. But his peripheral vision entangled around me like vines as I moved back and forth. He’s a cautious, meticulous man. If he found me annoying, he could have faced the floor-to-ceiling window. The villa sits halfway up the mountain. Looking down from the window, you can see the entire night view of Jin City. Very atmospheric. He used to always sit facing the window. But tonight, he insisted on sitting facing the stairs, the island, and the living room. Suddenly, he asked, “What song are you singing?” “An internet song, ‘Begonias Awake at 4 AM’.” “Mm.” After a silence, he asked again, “You like silk nightgowns?” “Ah haha, well…” I paused deliberately, acting like I was frantically thinking of an excuse. “Recently, I feel this is more feminine.” His hand on the keyboard paused, asking with feigned calm, “Why suddenly want to be feminine?” Finally asked something relevant. I made up a lie: “Because someone said silk nightgowns feel better to the touch.” His hand on the keyboard unconsciously clenched into a fist, then released after a moment. His tight jaw also relaxed suddenly. Then, with a malicious chuckle: “Then I must thank that person for being so considerate of me.” He put down the laptop, strode over to me in a few steps, looking down at me with immense pressure. Scared, I kept retreating, but he pressed on until he pinned me against the wall. Then, a large hand forcefully grabbed both my wrists, pinning them against the wall. Overbearing and aggressive, forcing my body tight against his. The heat of his chest seeped through the thin fabric into my skin, making my throat dry. I thought he finally decided to exercise his husbandly rights. After all, that look was hotter than ever, restraining complex emotions. “Then I must try this damn good texture.” Almost said through gritted teeth. As soon as the words fell, a warm palm stroked the small of my back, rubbing back and forth a few times. His eyes held a bit more madness. But he let go of me, saying insincerely, “Tried it. Not good at all. Don’t wear it anymore.” “Some people will deceive you to achieve their goals. You’re still young, can’t distinguish, you’ll suffer losses.” This sentence left me three parts confused, seven parts angry. Felt like my IQ was insulted. Also, even if I cheated, he doesn’t care? Only lack of love allows such magnanimity. Or, afraid of piercing the paper window, Mr. Sterling’s reputation would be ruined. Husband and wife both cheating, this marriage is rotten to the core. Yet for his reputation, he can endure more than a Ninja Turtle. While typing the divorce agreement, I reviewed— Looks like the fire isn’t hot enough. 4 The next morning, music came from Julian’s room: “At 4 AM, I heard the begonias awake…” After breakfast, he unprecedentedly wanted to drive me to school. I couldn’t refuse, sitting awkwardly in the passenger seat. In the car, again: “4 AM…” I was going crazy. Provoking me, afraid I don’t know he’s secretly in love with Ginger? Julian, just you wait. Today I’ll make you see green! I slammed the car door and went straight to find Sawyer. There was a dodging figure behind us. I smirked, wrapped my arms around Sawyer’s neck, and jumped onto him. Sawyer had to reach out and support my butt. I admit, a bit excessive, but Julian forced me. Since we’re doing it, make it real. I planted a shallow kiss on Sawyer’s cheek. Sawyer’s acting skills were top-notch. He flushed red on the spot, stammering in a low voice: “Ju-Junior, is this… maybe not good?” I smiled like a junior immersed in romantic love, grinning like a kid who got candy. “It’s all acting, don’t take it seriously.” Disappointment flashed in Sawyer’s eyes, then he nodded with a smile. That day, Sawyer took leave from his advisor just to act with me. We ate, shopped, gamed, watched movies hand in hand… Did everything couples do. Besides acting, Sawyer was a good companion, never a killjoy. I had a great time. Before leaving school at night, Sawyer and I stood under the cherry blossom tree to say goodbye. I transferred an extra two thousand to him. Added: “You gave your first kiss, it’s only right.” Under the cherry tree, bathed in the dim streetlight, Sawyer radiated a hazy beauty of youth. Beautiful as a painting. He chuckled, hand on forehead. Then, he cupped my face, lowered his head, and pecked my lips lightly: “Junior, this is a first kiss. Since I took the money, service must be thorough.” Voice low and bewitching. I was dazed for a moment. Suddenly heard the sound of someone falling into the bushes behind us. Understood instantly. Sawyer really is a master actor.

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I got scammed by a rental agent and moved into a “columbarium apartment” – a place where people store urns instead of living. To my surprise, there was already a tenant: a young, handsome, and tsundere ghost. I took a closer look, and hey! Turns out, we’re old acquaintances.I got scammed by a rental agent and moved into a “columbarium apartment” – a place where people store urns instead of living. To my surprise, there was already a tenant: a young, handsome, and tsundere ghost. I took a closer look, and hey! Turns out, we’re old acquaintances. 1 The doctor gave me six months to live. So, I quit my job, moved out, and planned to spend my remaining time in peace and quiet. I found a rental agent online. I told him my only requirement was a quiet place with few people. The agent took me to see a place that same day. The complex was called “Moonlit Gardens,” located in the scenic suburbs. It was an upscale community with high property values, yet the rent was suspiciously low. The agent told me he was the building manager and the owners were an elderly couple vacationing abroad who asked him to rent it out. When I asked why the rent was so cheap, he hemmed and hawed, explaining that the owners were rich and didn’t care about the money; they just wanted someone to look after the place. I bought it. The interior decoration was right up my alley, so I signed the lease on the spot. As if afraid I’d change my mind, the agent made me pay the deposit, rent, and a finder’s fee right then and there. The next day, I moved in. I arrived in the evening, unpacked my stuff, and went to sleep. That night, a storm hit. I was woken by thunder and lightning. Behind the billowing curtains, I saw a faint silhouette. It looked like a man. At first, I was terrified, thinking someone had broken in. But after watching for a while, I realized the shadow flickered in and out of existence. Was I hallucinating? I stared at it for a moment and shivered. The wind was freezing. I got out of bed, went to the window, and shut it. The sound of the storm muffled instantly, and the shadow disappeared. I turned off the lights and went back to sleep peacefully. The next morning, the sun was shining. I sat up, stretched, and opened the curtains to bask in the warmth. Then I saw it. A bloody handprint on the pristine window glass. My blood ran cold. I remembered clearly—when I cleaned yesterday, the glass was spotless. But I calmed down quickly. I grabbed a rag from the bathroom, opened the window, and tried to wipe the handprint from the outside. But no matter how hard I scrubbed, the handprint remained. That’s when I realized—the print was on the inside. Okay, so this place has issues. A supernatural thought crossed my mind. But hey, I’ve accepted death; what else can’t I accept? I wiped the inside, and the blood came right off. As I washed the rag in the bathroom, thinking about the shadow last night and the handprint this morning… I concluded the place was haunted. I wrung out the rag and looked up at the mirror. My reflection, previously expressionless, slowly cracked a wide, creepy smile. But I wasn’t smiling. I watched as my reflection’s mouth stretched wider and wider, almost reaching my ears. While grinning like that, it raised a hand and used a finger to write my name on the mirror, stroke by stroke— Riley. The letters dripped with blood. It was horrifying. How did it know my name? I frowned and asked the mirror, “What are you doing?” My reflection froze. The creepy grin vanished, replaced by a cold, menacing glare. Then, fine cracks appeared on the glass. It seemed the thing in the mirror was pissed. I stepped back, shielding my face with my arm. Good call. Two seconds later, the mirror exploded. Crash! Shards littered the floor. I looked down, and countless fragments reflected countless versions of me, all staring back coldly. Then, everything returned to normal. 2 I wanted to confront the agent, but I knew he wouldn’t admit anything. The money was gone, and getting it back would be harder than climbing to heaven. But I didn’t want to move out. Renting such a nice place at this price in this city was a pipe dream. Aside from being far from downtown, it had no flaws. And since I only needed to go to the hospital occasionally, the location didn’t matter. This was the perfect place for my final days. As for the haunting? I’m a dying woman. I’ll be a ghost soon enough. What’s there to be afraid of? I called a home goods store to order a new mirror. As soon as I gave the address, the owner refused to come. First, he said it was too far, then he said they were short-staffed. I didn’t buy it. I offered double the price, and he reluctantly agreed. That afternoon, the doorbell rang. It was the delivery guy, a middle-aged man looking nervous. He installed the mirror quickly. He was sweating buckets, so I handed him a tissue. “Sir, are you hot?” I asked. He wiped his sweat, looked at me hesitantly, and asked, “Are you renting this place?” “Yes.” “Have you seen anyone else around here?” he asked, his voice trembling. I shook my head. “No.” He lowered his voice to a whisper. “That’s because… every apartment in this complex is a columbarium.” “What’s a columbarium?” I asked. He looked around the living room warily. “Google it. I’ve said too much already.” With that, he fled as if his life depended on it. Now that he mentioned it, I realized I hadn’t seen a single living soul in the complex since I moved in 24 hours ago. But I asked for “quiet,” didn’t I? I liked quiet. But now, it felt… dead. I also realized that despite it being summer, there wasn’t even the sound of cicadas. I Googled “columbarium apartment.” A slew of news articles popped up. Turns out, these are apartments bought specifically to store cremation urns. Usually for two reasons: Cemeteries are too expensive. People want their deceased loved ones to “live” in better conditions. Given the property values here, it was definitely the second reason. This place was luxurious. According to the agent, the owners were an older couple. So the urn stored here probably belonged to their child. But if it’s a shrine for their kid, why rent it out? Aren’t they afraid of disturbing the spirit? I was certain now. There was something else in this house besides me. I thought for a moment, then shouted into the empty room: “I know you want me gone, but I paid rent! Your parents rented this place out, so don’t blame me, okay?” Silence. Where was he hiding? How do ghosts live, anyway? I was getting curious. 3 That night, I turned off the lights and lay in bed. I heard footsteps in the living room. I closed my eyes tight. Not because I was scared, but because I was worried he might look gruesome. In movies, ghosts are always terrifying. My heart is weak. If he scares me to death, I lose my last bit of time. In the pitch black, I heard only my breathing and the slow, eerie footsteps outside. They stopped at my bedroom door. A bone-chilling cold wrapped around me. The warmth of my blanket vanished, replaced by the damp chill of a grave. The footsteps didn’t continue. Was he blocked by the door? Why was it so cold? I reached down to pull the blanket tighter and touched something icy. It was hard, but slightly soft. Like… A human hand. I snapped the bedside lamp on. The soft light filled the room. The hand under my blanket slowly retracted to the foot of the bed and vanished. But I saw it clearly. It was big, with distinct knuckles and long fingers. A man’s hand. I was furious. If he’s a male ghost, doesn’t he know boundaries? He was groping me on purpose! 4 For the next few days, I walked around with a scowl, slamming doors and throwing things. Maybe my bad mood suppressed him, because the ghost seemed to chicken out. He stopped scaring me. Instead, he started messing with my food. Everything I bought spoiled within minutes. And it tasted weird—like burning paper money. Since he couldn’t scare me away, he decided to starve me out. I bagged up the spoiled food and put it outside the door. As I tied the bag, the door slammed shut behind me with a loud bang. I barely pulled my nose back in time. I looked down at my slippers and patted my empty pockets. No phone. No keys. It was late at night, and I had nowhere to go. That ghost finally found a chance to lock me out. Not only does he have no ghost-ethics, but he also hits below the belt! I pounded on the door, yelling for him to let me in. Of course, he wouldn’t. So I decided to make his life hell. I banged on the door for half an hour. Suddenly, I heard a creak. The door next door opened. If this whole complex is a columbarium, then the neighbor must be a ghost too. A pale foot stepped out. I held my breath and looked up. It wasn’t a scary monster, but a hipster guy with a man bun and a beard. If not for his pale skin and dead eyes, I would’ve thought he was alive. He walked up to me. Suddenly, more ghosts appeared in the hallway. Some walked out of doors, some passed through walls, some floated down from the ceiling. I leaned against my door, terrified. The hipster ghost sniffed me. “A living person?” A woman in her thirties, looking like a cool corporate boss, frowned. “I felt a disturbance recently. So it was you.” An old grandpa ghost smiled kindly. “Miss, who sent you here? Were you tricked?” I nodded vigorously. “Yes, Grandpa. The agent said the owners were on vacation and asked him to rent it out. I moved in and found out…” I didn’t want to finish the sentence in front of them. The ghosts started chattering indignantly. “It must be that Dave guy!” “Yeah, he’s a piece of trash!” “Remember last year? My son went out of town and left the keys with him, and he rented it out immediately!” “This girl was definitely scammed! We buy these places for our peace. Who would rent them out? Especially that family—they don’t need the money.” I was stunned. So I was scammed. The hipster ghost stared at me intently. It made my scalp tingle. “Are you dying?” he asked. Silence. Every ghost stared at me. I lowered my head. “Yes. I have less than six months.” The boss lady looked at me with pity. “No wonder you can see us.” She looked at my door. “I heard you banging for a while. Are you locked out?” The grandpa ghost looked angry. “That boy in there is bullying you!” He walked up and banged on my door. “Hey, you in there! Open the door for the girl!” The hipster ghost pointed at my apartment. “The guy in there is new. He’s a loner, doesn’t talk to us much. But we’ll help you.” He turned and shouted, “Kiki! Mimi!” Two twin girls, about seven or eight, skipped over, giggling. They passed right through my wall. A moment later, the lock clicked. The twins opened the door from the inside and skipped out. The boss lady patted my shoulder. “Go on in. If he bullies you again, tell us.” “Thank you,” I bowed deeply. The ghosts watched me enter, then dispersed. I looked through the peephole. In two seconds, the hallway was empty.

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I was classmates with the hero of a redemption novel back in the orphanage. At ten years old, Xavier Stone was already showing signs of being a total psycho. He wouldn’t let anyone touch his toys, even if he smashed them to bits. He pushed me down to steal my food and even choked me with a vicious look in his eyes. None of the kids at the orphanage liked him. But the bullet comments floating in my vision loved him. [Aw, the hero already loves his White Moonlight! Bullying her is just his possessiveness showing.] [Too bad he gets adopted by a billionaire in a few days. He won’t meet the White Moonlight again for ten years, when she’s working at a convenience store…] [Cult shippers get out! Official couple only! The hero needs the sunshine heroine to redeem him!] [The White Moonlight is trash! She frames the heroine later and competes with her. She deserved to be killed by the hero!] My face twisted with jealousy. Screw that! Why does Xavier get adopted by a billionaire while I’m stuck working at a convenience store?! We’re both orphans! I refuse to accept this. So, I spiked Xavier’s water with laxatives. 1 “Someone’s coming to adopt?” The news exploded among the kids like a thunderclap. As the noise grew, Mr. King slammed his hand on the chalkboard, face dark. “Quiet! Quiet!” “Look at you all. Missing limbs, crooked eyes. Even if someone comes, who would want you?” “If you don’t shut up, no dinner tonight!” The crowd went silent instantly. I sat primly on my little stool, my eyes wandering until they landed on Xavier behind me. He sat with tight lips and a cold, dead expression. But he was undeniably beautiful, sharp and striking. Noticing my gaze, Xavier’s face darkened further. “What are you looking at? I’ll gouge your eyes out.” [Baby hero is jealous and shy hahaha~] [So sweet! I want 500 more episodes of kindergarten life~] Are these people insane? This is sweet? I turned my head. Suddenly, my ponytail was yanked hard! “Ouch!” I fell backward, landing hard on my butt, nearly banging my head on the floor. The noise was loud. I sat there, stunned, meeting Mr. King’s furious gaze. He stormed over. Slap! He slapped Xavier hard across the face! “You little punk! Why did you hit Yu? Speak! Are you mute?!” The slap was heavy. A red mark bloomed on Xavier’s pale face. But he just kept his lips pressed tight, staring at Mr. King with dark, ghostly eyes. Xavier was notoriously unlikeable in the orphanage. But the comments saw it differently. [Who’s shipping the White Moonlight? The hero was just teasing her, and she rolled her eyes at him?] [Boys his age don’t know better. Shouldn’t girls be more understanding?] [What White Moonlight? That’s a total green tea b*tch! Crying to the teacher!] I wiped my tears and struggled to stand. “I’m fine,” I said, eyes red, forcing a smile at Mr. King. “Mr. King, don’t be mad. Don’t blame Xavier…” As I spoke, I “accidentally” revealed the scrape on my arm. People hate “green tea” b*tches because they aren’t the ones being charmed. Mr. King hurriedly found a band-aid, sighing as he patted my head. “Silly girl, why are you so kind?” He looked at Xavier, his expression turning dark. “Go to the solitary room for three days!” The solitary room was the orphanage’s punishment cell. Three days. Just enough to miss the adoption. 2 Unfortunately, I miscalculated. That night, the Director scolded Mr. King and released Xavier. Mr. King bought me a pack of fruit gummies. “The Director said there aren’t many healthy kids…” “Xavier is good-looking and a boy. Someone will want him.” I ate the candy, staring at the floor. Xavier was withdrawn and violent. I thought my plan was foolproof. I didn’t expect the Director to still want to adopt him out. Or maybe she just wanted to get rid of him before he caused more trouble. I looked up and gave Mr. King a sweet smile. “Thanks, Mr. King. It’s okay, I know you meant well. Xavier is so handsome, he’ll find a good home! I’m happy for him!” Mr. King sighed, reaching out as if to touch my chest. His hand trembled in mid-air. After a long moment, as if burned, he changed direction and patted my head. “But…” “But what?” I looked up, smiling innocently. “Teacher, can I go out for a bit?” 3 Afternoon. Two large fans buzzed incessantly, the heat making everyone drowsy. I glanced at Xavier’s empty bed and tiptoed out. While others slept, I was poisoning Xavier. Colorless, tasteless laxatives. The pharmacy lady swore it cured her mom’s month-long constipation. Xavier was a germaphobe. He never shared cups. Watching the powder dissolve in his dark blue cup, I breathed a sigh of relief. A few days ago, I learned Xavier’s entire life story from the chaotic bullet comments. Parents died when he was eight. Adopted by a billionaire at ten. Master’s degree at twenty. Interned at the family company at twenty-one. Executive director at twenty-three. Venture capital success, famous on Wall Street. The billionaire treated this adopted son better than his own flesh and blood, handing over the company. Even his childhood trauma was healed by the “sunshine heroine” who relentlessly pursued him in the name of redemption. I was mad with jealousy. Why? God, are you a man? Do you love men that much? Is Xavier your grandson? I shook my hand, adding more powder. If the billionaire wants a child… Why can’t it be me? A cold voice suddenly spoke. I turned to see Xavier standing in the doorway, his beautiful, ghostly face staring straight at me. “What are you doing?” 4 What am I doing? Drugging you, obviously. I pulled the corners of my mouth into an innocent smile and whispered, “Sorry.” Xavier froze. “Yesterday was my fault. I shouldn’t have peeked at you.” I lowered my lashes, voice soft. “But you’re so good-looking, I couldn’t help it. You hate that, right? Sorry.” “I won’t do it again.” “The Director said you like orange juice. I begged Mr. King to buy a packet of orange powder when he went out.” I tore the packet open in front of him and poured it in. “Sorry, I can’t afford real juice.” I handed the cup to Xavier, smiling purely. “Can you forgive me?” I noticed days ago that the comments only appeared when Xavier was around. Sure enough. [The White Moonlight is so good! I never doubted her!] [Did anyone notice the plot changed? Original story didn’t have this scene.] [Who cares? I only ship the couple! If the hero gets redeemed by the White Moonlight, that works too, heehee.] Redemption? Why should I exhaust myself, giving everything to save a man? I don’t have a saint complex. If anyone needs saving, it’s me. Xavier took the cup. He stared at the pale orange liquid, thinking. He slowly raised it to his lips. The stone in my heart was about to drop— Crash. The cup hit the floor, liquid splashing everywhere. Xavier’s expression was indifferent. He kicked the cup away and said calmly: “I don’t like people touching my things. Dirty.” “But thanks. I don’t like orange juice. I like coffee.” You son of a— My sweet smile almost cracked. I ground my molars. The next second, a figure appeared at the door, shoving Xavier aside. Mr. King looked at me and shouted: “Everyone up! The adopters are here!” 5 The kids lined up. I stood at the front, watching the billionaire couple step out of a Rolls Royce. The comments were ecstatic. [Here it comes! The turning point of the hero’s life!] I looked at Xavier. Expressionless, staring at his toes, slouching. He stood out. The billionaire’s gaze swept over the kids and landed on him. She whispered something to Mr. King. Mr. King forced a smile. “That child… his parents died in an accident. No family wanted him, so he came here.” “But his personality is a bit problematic, too withdrawn…” Mrs. Sterling’s gaze wandered over Xavier, then suddenly landed on me. [Mrs. Sterling is kinda tragic too. She decided to adopt to build good karma because her daughter went missing…] [Her daughter was four when she got lost. She was with her older brother, so Mrs. Sterling always blamed him.] [Her daughter actually looked a bit like the White Moonlight…] I took a step forward. My eyes met Mrs. Sterling’s. I blinked and blurted out: “Mommy…”

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I had two salaries. One was the yearly million-dollar paycheck I earned busting my ass as Julian Gu’s executive assistant by day. The other was the priceless hourly rate I earned warming his bed as his canary by night. He was hot, great in the sack, and loaded. I was satisfied. But lately, Boss Gu was acting weird. Leaving messages on read. Ignoring calls. Disappearing for days at a time. Then one day, he came back early. He was intense, almost manic, like he wanted to break the bed. Just as I was enjoying it, he dropped a bomb: “This shady relationship of ours needs to end!” 1 He didn’t stop moving when he said it. In fact, he went harder. Boom! It felt like a sledgehammer to my brain. End? What end? How could it end? Who said it could end?! The pleasure on my face froze instantly. My blood went from boiling to ice-cold in a second. The expensive custom bed finally gave up under the violent “breakup announcement,” letting out a final, mournful creak. Crack! Crash! The bed… actually collapsed. We fell into the wreckage in an intimate, humiliating heap. The world went silent for a second. I lay on the cold floor, debris digging into my back. His burning body was on top of me. The air smelled of sex and broken wood. Absurd. Laughable. Julian seemed stunned too. He probably didn’t expect the “breakup” to bring the house down. He propped himself up, frowning, shaking his arm where it hit the wood. Without looking at me, he tried to climb out of the ruins. As he reached for his pants— A stiff card slid out of his back pocket. It floated down. Spinning. And landed right on my chest, right on top of a fresh hickey. The cold touch made me shiver. Instinctively, I looked down. It was a photo. Background: sunny beach, blue sky, white sand. One of the men in the photo was Julian, who currently looked annoyed and was trying to put his pants on. But in the photo… I’d never seen him smile like that. Not the lustful, condescending, or dismissive smirk he gave me. It was a smile without shadows, eyes shining, like he owned the world. Pure, blazing happiness. His strong arm was wrapped tightly around the person next to him. That person wore a clean white shirt, smiling gently like jade, eyes curved like crescents. Untainted moonlight. Liam Lin. The “White Moonlight” Julian had hidden in his heart for ten years, the one he couldn’t have. On the back of the photo, in sharp, painful handwriting: “Reunion. My Liam, my light.” The date… was three days ago. 2 So that’s where he was. Picking up his “light.” What is he, a moth? So the real deal is back. And I, the counterfeit, the bed-warmer, have been crushed into dust by this “light.” The coldness on my chest turned into a branding iron, searing my insides. It hurt more than the bed collapsing on me. Ten years. From freshman orientation, I followed him like a shadow. Watching him play ball, win awards, charm everyone. Fetching his water, washing his socks, building his company, drinking for him… That humble, unspoken crush was my deepest secret. So three years ago, when he handed me that harsh “Secretary Contract” with the implied night shift, I knew it was a trap, but I jumped anyway. With a pathetic, zombie-like joy—at least I could be close to him, even in the most shameful way. For three years, I played the perfect secretary and the obedient canary. He paid, I smiled. Fair trade. I even hypnotized myself into thinking that in those twisted moments of tenderness, maybe a tiny bit belonged to “Noah Shen.” Until now. Until this photo slapped me across the face, shattering my delusions. I wasn’t even a counterfeit anymore. I was trash that needed to be taken out. Love? That hidden, shameful desire belonging to “Noah Shen” was burned to ash by that smile and those words. My heart felt empty. Not painful, just cold. So cold my fingers trembled. Julian finally stood up and pulled on his pants. He noticed the photo on my chest, my pale face, and my dead eyes. He frowned deeper, a flicker of… annoyance? Or embarrassment at being caught? He bent down and snatched the photo roughly. “You always liked money. I’ll give you ten million. Liam is innocent. Stay away from him. If he’s not around, you can still stay here. Don’t let him know about us, or he’ll be disgusted.” His voice was cold, hoarse from the activity, impatient. He shoved the photo back in his pocket. He pulled a checkbook from his suit jacket, scribbled, and tore a page out. The flimsy piece of paper fluttered down like charity to a beggar, landing on my naked, dusty stomach. The number was pretty. Ten million. Buyout for three years. Buyout for my ten years of wasted love. “Cleanup fee” for this piece of trash. So generous, Boss Gu. Disgusted? Damn it. Who was just sweating and moaning a minute ago? I looked at the check, then at him. He stood by the wreckage, dressed impeccably, back to the cold, noble CEO Gu. The intensity and the cold “end” felt like a bizarre dream. Only the broken bed and the check on my naked body proved it happened. I twitched my lips. Not a smile. Just the calm of a dead heart. Slowly, I pushed myself up from the cold floor, body aching. Ignoring my wretched state, ignoring the check. Right in front of him, I slowly picked up my clothes and put them on. Movements steady, fingers not shaking. Buttoned the last button of my shirt. Covering all the marks. Only then did I bend down and pick up the check from the dust with two fingers. I flicked non-existent dust off it and looked up at Julian, who was frowning, surprised by my calmness. “Boss Gu, I served you day and night for three years. I earned this money. I won’t say thanks!” My voice was flat as a frozen lake. His brow relaxed, probably thinking I was being sensible. I looked at him and articulated the second half clearly: “But the end isn’t up to you. It’s me, Noah Shen, who doesn’t want you anymore.” Julian, your game is over. Now, I’m the dealer. 3 “Don’t want me? Noah, stop making a scene. I said, when Liam isn’t here, you can still stay. If he comes, I’ll call you, just hide.” I didn’t speak. Disgusted. Damn it. Truly disgusting. So disgusting I almost thought I was pregnant, and I’m a man. The morning after he slammed the door and left, I took that heavy, flimsy paper to the bank. Transferred the ten million to my personal account. When the notification pinged, looking at the string of zeros, the hollow space in my heart felt filled with something hard and cold. Money really is good. As for men? Plenty of fish in the sea! By day, I was still the million-dollar Chief Secretary of the Gu Group, Noah Shen. Scumbags can’t stop me from making money. Nobody messes with my bag. But boundaries had to be drawn. His schedule? Emailed. His mood? Not my problem. Work report? Done in three sentences. Julian’s face grew darker by the day. Several times, he looked like he wanted to say something, eyeing me with complexity, scrutiny, and… unexplained irritation. He was used to my submission, my fawning. The business-like attitude threw him off. Without me picking his outfits, his ties clashed with his suits more than once. People in the office started whispering that Boss Gu broke up with his girlfriend. I played deaf and blind. That afternoon, Julian had an important international video conference. I went to deliver the final materials. Pushing the door open, I smelled tea. Liam Lin was there. He was lounging on the sofa in the guest area, holding a teacup. Julian sat opposite him, close, whispering. The atmosphere was dripping with honey. The relaxed, almost smiling expression on Julian’s face was something I hadn’t seen in three years. The hard spot in my heart pricked. Not painful, just a little cold. The person I couldn’t warm up in ten years, Liam warmed up effortlessly just by existing. “Boss Gu, meeting materials.” I put the folder on his desk, voice flat, eyes averting the guest area. “Mm.” Julian responded without looking up, still watching Liam gently. “Liam, I’ll have my secretary book that restaurant you mentioned.” Liam smiled gently: “Okay.” His gaze swept over me, carrying a hint of condescension. I turned to leave, feeling the air was dirty. But just as I reached the door. “Ah!” A short scream from Liam, followed by the crash of porcelain! I looked back instinctively. Liam had “accidentally” knocked over the hot tea! Tea soaked his expensive shirt, steaming! The cup lay shattered. “Liam! Are you burned?! Let me see!” Julian’s face changed instantly. He rushed over, voice cracking. Liam feigned paleness, eyes red, voice trembling with accusation: “Julian! It burns! But don’t blame Secretary Shen. He didn’t mean to hit my arm with the door!” Damn it. Green tea bitch. This is what Julian likes? I hit him? I was ten steps away from him. Am I Mr. Fantastic? Can I hit him from across the room? I turned to leave, but Julian looked up sharply! 4 The eyes that were filled with concern for Liam turned into poisonous ice when they looked at me! Fury, disgust, and… “I knew it” contempt! He didn’t hesitate for a second! Didn’t ask “is it true?” Didn’t check the debris trajectory! To him, Liam’s word was law! And I was the jealous, malicious “lowlife”! “Noah. Shen! You cheap thing who climbed into my bed! How dare you hurt Liam?” Julian squeezed my name through his teeth, every word a storm. I wanted to laugh, but held it in. I didn’t explain. Just looked at him, silent. Liam sobbed louder, adding fuel to the fire. Julian looked at me like I was rotting garbage. The next second, right in front of me, in front of the sobbing Liam, he whipped out his phone and called HR! “Director Li! Draft a termination letter! Fire Noah Shen! Immediately! Notify the whole company! Reason?” He sneered, eyes cutting me like knives. “Noah Shen has bad conduct, intentionally hurting an important guest! Tell him to pack his shit and get out!” “Fine. I’ll go. Julian, I really don’t want you anymore!” 5 Ten years of unrequited love, fed to dogs. Three years as a canary, pure degradation. My million-dollar career ended with a public shaming for “bad conduct” and being “malicious and cheap.” The whole company watched the show. And I was the clown. Who told me to be blind and love Julian? I had very few things. A mug, some books, a personal USB drive. I packed them into a simple cardboard box. Holding the light box, I turned around. Julian, we are truly done! We’re all adults with brains. I don’t believe a business prodigy like Julian couldn’t see through Liam’s clumsy act. But even knowing Liam did it on purpose, Julian still fired me. Walking out of the building, I got a text. I thought it would be a taunt from Liam. Like in those soap operas. But it was from Julian. [Liam isn’t coming over tonight. You can come back. I want grilled fish, seafood porridge, and cucumber salad for dinner.] [Also, tonight, I can go harder. Don’t be mad at Liam, you’ll scare him.] Heh… When did Julian lose his mind? How desperate was I before? To eat up this garbage?

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After six months of waiting tables at a KTV bar, I suddenly had an awakening. I realized I was living inside a fluffy romance novel, but my role? The vicious male villain! Tomorrow, I’m destined to reunite with my billionaire father. 1 Following the script, I’d be forced into a loveless marriage with a woman who felt nothing for me. Later, I’d even suffer domestic violence. Meanwhile, the male lead would meet the heroine and be spoiled rotten by her and her family. Every day, he’d flaunt his perfect love life in my face, driving me insane with jealousy until I resorted to every dirty trick in the book to break them up. In the end, I’d be thrown in jail while the happy couple welcomed twins! Hiss… Which sadistic author wrote this garbage?! I’m rich, I’m free, I have a wife—why would I ruin my good life just to mess with the leads? 2 As expected, I was reunited with my billionaire dad and then arranged to marry that emotionless woman, Paige. But instead of following the self-destructive plot, I decided to just enjoy the ride. When Paige said she was going to see her “white moonlight”—her first love—I suggested she bring flowers. “Mr. Xu loves white roses. Don’t buy the wrong ones.” Paige: “?” Her confusion was justified. According to my character setting, I should be stopping her from seeing Liam Xu. In my original moral code, marriage meant loyalty until death! No wandering eyes! But that was then. Now? I only love money. I told Paige, “For the sake of a peaceful coexistence, how about a deal?” Paige: “What deal?” “You play your game, I’ll keep your secrets. Just pay me each time.” Paige: “…” Seeing her shock, I was confused too. “Isn’t this how people in your circle play?” Marriage is for profit. Feelings are for whoever. Everyone has a side piece or two. Paige was silent for two seconds before speaking: “Playing separately after marriage is common. Asking your wife for hush money is… not.” I shrugged. “Women aren’t as reliable as cash.” Paige: “…” 3 As soon as Paige left, the male lead, Luke, called me. According to the timeline, he and the heroine, Linnea, were already together. He was about to tell me how much Linnea spoiled him, then casually ask how I was doing. Paige was off seeing her white moonlight, so in the original plot, I’d be miserable. But Luke, either dense or deliberate, cared little about me and bragged a lot about his relationship. I’m a billionaire heir, yet I can’t even compare to him? How could I not be mad? But now? I really wasn’t. When Luke asked how I was doing, I laughed: “Packing my bags.” He was surprised: “Why? Did you fight with your wife?” “Who has time to fight? I’m going on an international trip.” “Honeymoon?” “Nope. Solo trip.” Luke gasped, “You guys are newlyweds! Isn’t this the time to make babies?” “…” Make babies?! Paige and I have zero feelings for each other! I quickly brushed Luke off and hung up. Once Paige’s hush money hit my account, I grabbed my suitcase and headed to the airport. That night, Paige came home to a dark house and called me in shock: “Where are you?” “Watching the sunset in the Maldives.” Paige: “???” 4 The day after I arrived in the Maldives, Luke and Linnea showed up. Luke claimed he missed me and hadn’t seen me in ages, so he asked Linnea to bring him here to meet up. But why did it feel like he was just showing off? Even more ridiculous, he came to see me, but spent all day glued to Linnea, ordering me around like a servant. “Grab this,” “Fetch that.” Anyone watching would think I was their butler! I decided to change locations immediately. Luke was shocked again: “You spend money like water! Doesn’t your wife say anything?” “It’s a business marriage, not a sugar momma arrangement!” The word “sugar momma” must have pricked Luke’s pride because his face fell instantly. He gave me a heavy look and muttered, “Hope you have fun!” Of course I’ll have fun. Just stop bringing the heroine to flaunt your love in my face! Even if the plot says I’m the villain, I refuse to be a supporting character in someone else’s life! You can lead a horse to water, but you can’t make it drink drama. 5 After playing around for half a month, Paige finally called again. This time, there was a banquet we had to attend together. Without thinking, I suggested: “Take Mr. Xu! You just need a male companion, right? He’s male!” Paige: “…” She patiently explained that this banquet was important, and both sets of parents were watching, so she had to bring me. “Is that so? How about you say I’m sick?” I hadn’t had enough fun yet. I didn’t want to go back. Paige was very dissatisfied with my attitude and sneered, “This is the first time I’ve seen someone push their wife away. Chase, you’re something else.” Am I? I just think these people are gluttons for punishment. In the original plot, I’d throw a fit every time she went to see her white moonlight. Eventually, she’d get annoyed and not come home for months. I’d find where her white moonlight lived, fight him, and she’d hit me in anger. It would end with both families unhappy and everyone laughing at us. Is that what she wants? I told Paige: “I can come back and cooperate, but I have a condition.” “What condition?” “My friend’s birthday is coming up. You come with me and behave yourself.” Luke’s birthday was soon. He’d definitely invite me, and there’d inevitably be a wave of PDA. I hadn’t planned on contacting him much, but back when we were bussing tables at the KTV, he risked his life to help me once. Consider it repaying a debt. As long as he didn’t cross the line, I didn’t want to burn bridges. 6 Paige agreed to my condition, and I obediently flew back the next day. Due to a flight delay, Paige waited at the airport for three hours. As soon as I exited, I met her dark face. “What? Not happy I’m back? Should I leave now?” Paige: “…” Suppressing her anger, she stuffed me into the car and handed me a bag, telling me to change clothes immediately. “Change in the car?” Paige pressed a button, raising the partition in the middle of the car. “Change. No one can see now.” I looked at her slowly: “Aren’t you a person?” Paige: “…” To avoid dying of anger, she decisively turned her head to look out the window. I reminded her: “The glass reflects, you know. Close your eyes.” Paige took a deep breath but couldn’t stop her rationality from flying out the window. She turned back, glaring at me fiercely: “Chase, I have a marriage certificate with you. Even if I see everything, it’s legal!” “Oh. Then look.” I started taking off my clothes openly in front of her. Instead, Paige got embarrassed, blushing instantly. Little girl, trying to fight me? I know the whole plot! Paige is the type who can crush you if you play hardball, but panics if you play soft. After Paige closed her eyes, face beet red, I leisurely changed my clothes.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “387209”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel