My phone shattered. At the airport, I borrowed a stranger’s phone to call my brother: “Bro, where are you?” He chuckled, his voice low and teasing: “Which ‘sister’ is this? Hmm?” I cleared my sore throat: “Your biological sister. Same mom, same dad.” “Since when do I have other sisters?! And why wasn’t I informed?!” Silence on the other end. “Cough. Why are you calling from a strange number?” “Something urgent came up, I can’t leave. I sent a buddy to pick you up.” He teased, “You know him. It’s the hot guy you swore you’d marry when you were a kid.” 1 After SATs were done and college applications submitted, my parents packed me up like luggage and shipped me off to spend the summer with my brother, who works in New York. They planned a romantic getaway, just the two of them, and didn’t trust me home alone. My brother, Nate, initially refused. “I have work every day. I don’t have time to babysit her.” My mom raised her voice: “You were the one who begged us to have a little sister! You promised you’d take care of her! Now she just needs a place to crash for the summer, and you’re full of excuses!” “Don’t you have weekends off? You’re single, what could you possibly be busy with?” “You wanted her, you deal with her.” Nate laughed, defeated: “Fine, fine, fine. Send her over.” “I’ll take care of it.” 2 The day of my flight, Nate texted me: “Emergency came up, can’t pick you up.” “Asked a friend to grab you. Call him when you land.” He sent a number. But I was already in the air and didn’t see the message. I landed at dusk. Just as I turned off airplane mode, a rushing passenger slammed into me. I fell, and my phone went flying, landing ten feet away with a sickening crack. The guy didn’t even look back, disappearing into the crowd. I picked up my phone. Smashed. The screen was a spiderweb of cracks, completely black. I tried to borrow a phone from passersby. Three rejections. Everyone looked at me with suspicion and walked away fast. I stood there, awkward and helpless. Finally, an airport staff member let me use theirs. I thanked my lucky stars I memorized my family’s numbers. I dialed Nate. First call, rejected immediately. My heart sank. Second call. It rang for a long time before he picked up. A familiar, cool voice answered: “Hello, who is this?” Hearing his voice, my composure cracked. My eyes welled up. I wanted to cry. My voice came out thick with unshed tears. “Bro, where are you?” He was somewhere loud. Background noise was chaotic. He paused. Then laughed lightly: “Bro?” “Which sister is this? The club? From the birthday party the other night? Or someone else?” I froze. Since when did my brother start collecting “sisters” behind my back? After a long pause, I answered seriously: “Your biological sister, Chloe Tang.” Silence on the other end for a solid ten seconds. Then his tone turned serious. “Cough. Why are you calling from a strange number?” “What’s wrong with your voice?” My attention shifted. “I ate too many lychees at home yesterday. Got a sore throat.” I told him about my phone getting smashed but left out the part about falling. He comforted me: “Don’t worry. Where are you exactly? Tell me.” “I have an emergency today and can’t pick you up. I called a bro to get you.” “Julian Shen. You know him.” Then he teased: “Remember? The guy you swore you’d marry when you grew up.” Hearing Julian’s name, my heart skipped a beat. Panic set in. Nate is seven years older than me. Julian was Nate’s middle school friend, but two years younger than him. He skipped two grades. Rich family, good looks, high IQ and EQ. The classic “neighbor’s kid” everyone compares you to. Perfect and dazzling. He and my brother were tight. The first time Julian came to our house, tiny me was stunned by his face. He was polite, humble, and treated me well. Every time he visited, he brought gifts. Snacks, toys, pretty hair clips. I was a kid with zero filter, so I asked him if he’d wait for me to grow up so I could marry him. Julian smiled gently. He picked up tiny me: “Sure, if you don’t think I’m too old by then.” It was a joke. But I remembered it. Vividly. Because every time we met after that, my parents brought it up. “Remember how you used to scream about marrying him?” Nate would join in: “You told me I wasn’t as handsome as Julian. Almost died of anger. Ungrateful brat.” For the first few years, Julian would play along: “Is Chloe’s promise still valid?” After I started middle school, he stopped mentioning it. When others teased, he just smiled and changed the subject. Puberty made me sensitive and shy. I started hiding whenever Julian came over. Then Nate went to college. I rarely saw Julian after that. Maybe once or twice his freshman and sophomore years. Then never again. It’s been five years. 3 I followed Nate’s instructions to the exit. A swarm of drivers rushed me, asking if I needed a ride. It freaked me out. I shook my head and backed away. One driver grabbed my suitcase handle, trying to hustle me into his car. He was strong. I yanked my suitcase back and stumbled in the chaos. I crashed into a stranger’s chest. He steadied me, saving me from hitting the ground. My instinct was to bow my head and apologize. “Thank you, thank you.” I noticed I’d scuffed his expensive leather shoe. “Sorry, I’m so sorry.” “Chloe Tang.” A pleasant but unfamiliar voice sounded above my head, cutting off my apology. Hearing my name, I snapped my head up. My eyes widened. Shocked. Stunned. The man in front of me was in a bespoke suit, every hair in place, radiating an aura of elite sophistication. He was tall. I barely reached his collarbone. His face was more defined, more mature than the boy in my memories. Julian Shen swept a cold glance over the drivers. They scattered immediately. When he looked back at me, seeing my dazed expression, he smiled. The cold aura vanished instantly. That face was more dazzling than the sunset behind him. His eyes held a familiar gentleness. “What? It’s been a few years, don’t recognize me?” I snapped out of it, feeling shy. “Julian… bro. Long time no see.” Julian curved his lips: “Long time no see, Chloe.” 4 In Julian’s car, he asked me a few questions. Hearing about my phone, he apologized: “My bad. I should have been there earlier to meet you inside, but a meeting ran late.” I waved my hands frantically: “No, no, no.” “You’re so busy, and my brother is bothering you. We should be apologizing.” Julian smiled: “It’s no bother. I’m happy to see you.” He was dressed so formally. Even though he was gentle, the “successful adult male” vibe gave me invisible pressure. It had been years. He wasn’t that boy anymore, and I wasn’t a kid. Sitting in the enclosed space of his car, I felt incredibly awkward. When nervous, people fidget. I kept sipping my orange juice. Julian gripped the steering wheel. His fingers were long and pale. Beautiful hands. Stopped at a red light, he suddenly said: “You’re staying at my place tonight. Your brother…” Pfft— Before he finished, I sprayed juice everywhere. I coughed violently, scrambling for tissues in my backpack. Julian handed me a grey handkerchief. I clutched my tissues, embarrassed: “It’s okay, I’ll use these.” He didn’t insist, taking back the handkerchief. I wiped the juice splatters in the car, feeling mortified. “Sorry, I messed up your car.” The sun disappeared below the horizon, and the streetlights flickered on. Julian’s profile was a silhouette against the passing lights. It made him look colder, more distant. I felt like a kid who broke a vase at a stranger’s house. Anxious. Julian glanced at me. His eyes were calm but resigned in the dim light. He sighed softly: “Chloe, you’ve been here less than thirty minutes and you’ve apologized a dozen times.” “I don’t blame you. You don’t need to be scared.” “We aren’t strangers. I’m the same as your brother. Treat me like a brother, okay?” He reached over and patted my head. His tone was gentle: “Relax.” I nodded. But my mind was on Nate. “Julian… why am I staying at your place? Where is my brother?” Julian turned the wheel. His tone was steady: “Nate had a sudden business trip. He didn’t want to leave you alone.” “I have a housekeeper during the day who can take care of you.” He paused, then added: “My niece is staying with me right now. It won’t be just the two of us.” He looked at me, smiling: “Don’t be scared.” My little worry exposed, I looked away, embarrassed. “I… I want to call my brother.” Julian’s phone rang immediately. Caller ID: Nate Tang. My brother!

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My best friend and I were lying in bed, binge-reading a novel. We spent the entire night roasting the brain-dead family and the useless heroine in the story until we both passed out from exhaustion. When we woke up, we had transmigrated into the book. I opened my eyes to see my biological mother crying her eyes out, welcoming me home. My adoptive parents stood by, looking reluctant to let me go, talking about our deep emotional bond. Unfortunately, I already knew the ending. The love and cherishing in my biological parents’ eyes would gradually turn into disgust and loathing. My adoptive parents would treat me as a tool to gain capital, constantly squeezing every bit of value out of me. It was a nightmare start. But when I arrived at my biological parents’ home—the Zhang family—and saw that the “fake heiress” was my best friend, everything fell into place. When my best friend saw me, her lips trembled, and she looked like she was about to cry. Ignoring everyone’s stares, we sprinted toward each other, accelerated, braked, and hugged tightly. Me: “Big Boss Wang, boo hoo.” Bestie: “Second Boss Wang, boo hoo.” My best friend and I grew up together. We didn’t ask to be born on the same day, month, and year, but we swore to die on the same day, month, and year. To sound more badass, we gave ourselves these ride-or-die nicknames. My biological parents, clueless about the situation, stared at us in shock. Just then, a stranger strode over quickly. Razor-sharp features, a slender build, and a perfectly tailored suit. We two sisters looked up at him, confused. The man looked at my best friend with a pained expression. He shoved me away. “If you dare bully Yueyue, I will never acknowledge you as my sister!” My best friend flew into a rage and slapped him across the face. “If you dare bully my bestie, I will never acknowledge you as my husband!” Oops, slip of the tongue. “…’s brother-in-law.” The eldest brother touched the spot where he was slapped, still in a daze. I whispered in my best friend’s ear, “Is this the domineering CEO brother who likes the fake heiress in the novel?” My best friend looked at the shattered expression on the eldest brother’s face, extremely satisfied. “Yep, he’s got some looks.” As expected of Big Boss Wang, she talks like a female bandit. Mother Zhang stepped forward to scold the eldest brother: “Zhang Xiao, you misunderstood. Yueyue and Xiaxia have met before. Yueyue and I ran into Xiaxia on the street a few days ago and even helped her find a tutoring job. It was Yueyue who said Xiaxia looked like me, which led to today’s reunion. Your two sisters are just catching up.” All this twisty-turny logic almost made me and my best friend dizzy. I remembered this part from the original novel. The fake heiress suggested a DNA test just to dispel Mother Zhang’s suspicions. She had already prepared a fake test result but didn’t have time to swap it. It backfired, and she became the hero who brought the real heiress home. However, because of this, the Zhang family firmly believed the fake heiress was pure-hearted. A blessing in disguise for the fake heiress. The eldest brother slowly recovered from the shock of being slapped and warned me coldly: “Yueyue is pure-hearted. She was the one who asked Mom and Dad to bring you back. Don’t even think about hurting her. Behave yourself.” After speaking, he glanced at my best friend, his eyes filled with both resentment and a hint of… satisfaction? He turned and walked away, leaving behind a cool back view. After the eldest brother left, Mother Zhang took me to my new room, telling me to stay comfortably and ask for anything I needed. My best friend originally wanted me to sleep in her room. We had been inseparable since childhood, splitting even a single candy in half. We were practically one person. I explained: “We can swap rooms to sleep.” My best friend finally agreed. Both rooms were huge and beautiful; it would be a waste not to use them. 2 At night, I sneaked into my best friend’s room. In the dark, her eyes were shining. “Get in bed, sleep!” We both collapsed onto the bed, letting out a simultaneous sigh of comfort. It was the first time we had slept in such a comfortable bed. We had been homeless since childhood, doing all sorts of dirty and tiring jobs. Later, Big Boss Wang started a business, and although life improved, it was still hard work. Now we were finally enjoying life! “Good thing I’m the fake heiress, otherwise you would have been bullied to death.” Big Boss Wang was right. I hugged her and nodded frantically: “Thanks to Big Boss Wang. But we still need to be vigilant in times of peace.” “What do you mean?” “I mean, go easy when you hit people.” Big Boss Wang seemed to understand: “Got it.” My best friend didn’t have many hobbies, but there were two she couldn’t give up. One was handsome guys. The other was beating people up. She was impulsive, and I always had to hold her back. But the next morning. As soon as I went downstairs, I heard a heavy thud coming from the dining room. 3 “Who the f*ck are you being sarcastic to?” I rushed downstairs. A carefree young man with red hair was sitting at the dining table with a look of disbelief. My best friend was holding a red wine bottle. Seeing me come down, the redhead pointed at me and said, “It’s all because this woman came, making Yueyue unhappy, right?” This must be the second brother of the Zhang family. A good-for-nothing rich kid. I quietly signaled my best friend to control her emotions. I greeted him humbly: “Hello, Second Brother, nice to meet you.” Zhang Yan snapped: “Don’t call me Second Brother. Since you came, this house has been in chaos. Even someone as good-tempered as Yueyue is pissed off by you.” “Piss off your m…” I tugged at my best friend’s shirt. She always listened to me and stifled the rest of the sentence. We had discussed it last night. According to the original plot. Next, the fake heiress would frame and slander the real heiress in various ways, and the real heiress’s resistance would be futile. In the end, the real heiress, despised by her family, would be kicked out and even lose a leg. After a heated discussion. We decided to lay low in this house till the end. Ignore all the brain-dead comments from this family. As long as we besties got along harmoniously, what reason would they have to kick me out? I kept a straight face: “Second Brother, you misunderstood. Yueyue and I get along very well.” My best friend gritted her teeth: “Yeah, Second Brother, we play together very well. Stop spouting… nonsense.” Zhang Yan looked at me with disdain: “What good can come out of that kind of family? ‘Get along well’? It’s just a disguise.” “Only a naive little girl like Yueyue, inexperienced in the world, would be deceived by you.” In the original book, my adoptive parents were indeed despicable, indulging in eating, drinking, whoring, and gambling, committing all sorts of evil. Fortunately, I had already left that hellhole when I transmigrated. Before I could speak. My best friend pointed at his nose and started scolding. “And what kind of good stuff are you? Dating twelve girlfriends a year, each one already having a boyfriend, getting chased all over the city!” Zhang Yan’s face turned red: “That’s because I’m unlucky! It’s not like I did it on purpose.” He stood up shakily, pointing at me, exasperated: “You must have slandered me in front of Yueyue, trying to sow discord between us siblings. Give up! Yueyue is my only sister!” After speaking, he fled in panic. My best friend wanted to chase after him and smash the wine bottle on his head, but I stopped her. “We’ve heard worse things than this. This is nothing. Let’s go shopping.” Big Boss Wang’s eyes lit up. 4 By the time we returned home carrying bags big and small, Big Boss Wang had been coaxed into a happy mood. “Number Two, you gotta admit, reading this novel was infuriating, but living in it is kinda awesome.” “Having money is awesome, hahaha.” I supported her swaying waist as we entered the house. But as soon as we entered, the whole family was sitting solemnly in the living room. My slight tipsiness vanished instantly. What was this scene? Zhang Yan curled his lip: “She really came back for our family’s money.” Obviously, he heard what I just said. Zhang Xiao looked at me with dissatisfaction: “Why did you make Yueyue carry so many things?” I looked down. My best friend and I were carrying about the same amount, looking like Christmas trees. Zhang Yan chimed in: “She’s the biological daughter, so now she’s showing off her authority to the whole family.” Based on my two days here, I found that even if my best friend and I got along harmoniously, the whole family would still verbally abuse me. Proving that there was no rift between us was useless; they would only think the naive fake heiress was bewitched by the scheming real heiress. So there was no need to pay attention to them. Just stay calm. After all, having money to spend was the most important thing. And lots of money at that. Big Boss Wang controlled her temper, ignored the two loudmouths, and led me upstairs, but Mother Zhang stopped us. “Yueyue, Xiaxia, wait a moment.” I signaled my best friend not to rush. We still relied on them for big meals, so have some patience. Mother Zhang looked worried and hesitant: “Have you seen my jade necklace? The one your father gave me for our 20th anniversary.” My best friend and I shook our heads. I remembered this plot point. The fake heiress hid Mother Zhang’s priceless jade necklace in the real heiress’s room to frame her. The unsuspecting real heiress naturally denied it. When it was found, Mother Zhang was very disappointed in the real heiress. But now, since my best friend wouldn’t harm me, why was the necklace still missing? I had a bad feeling. Sure enough, a servant brought out the intricately crafted necklace, which I couldn’t appreciate, from my room. The system actually filled in the missing plot itself. “Found it in the Second Miss’s room, Madam.” Mother Zhang looked at me with great disappointment. Father Zhang’s face was dark. Zhang Yan sneered: “As expected, she’s no good. Stealing from her own mother. Mom wasted all that effort preparing for your return.” Before I could come up with a countermeasure. My best friend suddenly realized something and shouted: “So it was this one!” Everyone turned to look at her. “Sister said she really liked the pearl necklace Mom gave her. I told her that was nothing, Mom would give her plenty more things in the future, and she hadn’t seen the real good stuff yet. “So I went to Mom’s room and picked the prettiest one to broaden her horizons. But after showing her, I forgot to put it back, and we went out.” Hearing her words, Mother Zhang breathed a sigh of relief. “So that’s what happened.” Father Zhang was suspicious: “Is what you said true, Yueyue? Dad remembers you never lie.” “Of course it’s true. Besides, Sister is Mom’s biological daughter, so she naturally has the same good character as Mom. She wouldn’t do something like that.” Yueyue before transmigration was capable of lying, but the Zhang family didn’t realize it. And the current Big Boss Wang was a master at it. I frantically gave Big Boss Wang a thumbs up behind my back. Big Boss Wang, unaffected by emotions, had always been a master negotiator. Big Boss Wang continued: “So this is the 20th-anniversary gift Dad gave Mom. It really is beautiful. I knew it was valuable at first glance.” Father Zhang and Mother Zhang were coaxed into happiness and quickly forgot their suspicion of me. Zhang Yan stopped making noise too. Only Zhang Xiao kept staring at Big Boss Wang.

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During our summer vacation, my little sister sneaked into a beat-up cargo van. I pretended I didn’t see a thing and turned my back. In my past life, I stopped her. And for that, she hated me for decades. On my daughter’s first birthday, she laced her formula with a lethal dose of rat poison. Watching my baby cough up blood, she laughed like a maniac. “Remember this? You caused this!” she screamed. “You ruined my life, so I’m going to make sure you suffer for the rest of yours!” “Why did you stop me from getting in that van?!” I tried to fight her, but she stabbed me until I was paralyzed. I spent years rotting in a hospital bed, a vegetable, until I finally flatlined. When I opened my eyes again, I was back there. The parking lot. The heat. And my sister, sneaking toward the van. 1 I opened my eyes and stared right at Chloe’s back as she nervously looked around. I squinted, a tidal wave of hatred crashing over me. A black panel van rolled up to the curb. She knocked on the door three times—a signal. Two men slid the door open and yanked her inside. In my last life, I thought she was being kidnapped. I screamed, rallied a crowd, and dragged her back from the edge of hell. I was too frantic back then to notice the look on her face. It wasn’t fear. It was annoyance. Chloe hated me for forty years. Not only did she murder my daughter, but she also spent years poisoning my food, wrecking my body before she finally put me in that coma. While I lay paralyzed, she would come to my bedside daily to curse me out. She’d brag about her wealthy husband, her perfect life, her adorable daughter. Every year, she’d bring her kid to celebrate her birthday right in front of my dying body. Five years of torture later, I died of sheer rage. It wasn’t until the bitter end that I realized why Chloe was so desperate to get in that van. It was her “Main Character Ascension Plan.” Since she was a toddler, Chloe believed she was special. The “Chosen One.” She was convinced she didn’t belong in our middle-class family, that she was a lost princess switched at birth. As she grew older and started looking exactly like Dad, she had to accept biology. But she hatched a new plan. If you’re born in the wrong house, you can just switch houses, right? The men in the van were traffickers. Chloe had contacted them herself. She volunteered to be kidnapped. Her only condition? “Sell me to a billionaire’s family.” The traffickers, obviously, said yes. Today was the execution day. In her twisted mind, I destroyed her destiny. I blocked her path to becoming a heiress. Watching the taillights of the van fade into the distance, I smirked and melted back into the crowd of tourists. This time, sister dear, go chase the life you think you deserve. I can’t wait to see where they actually take you. 2 Ten minutes later, Chloe still hadn’t come back from the “bathroom.” Mom and Dad started getting antsy. They checked the restrooms. Empty. Their faces went pale. Twenty minutes later, we’d scoured the entire tourist trap. No Chloe. Mom nearly fainted. Dad called the cops. Thirty years ago, security cameras were trash. They only saw Chloe walk toward the bathrooms and never come out. Only I knew she’d climbed out the bathroom window, circled back to the blind spot by the service exit, and hopped into the van. We searched until sunset. Nothing. Mom passed out twice. Dad chain-smoked a whole pack, his hands shaking. “It’s my fault! Why didn’t I watch her?!” Dad sobbed, face buried in his hands. “Summer, Daddy lost your sister.” We stayed in that town for half a month. My parents were eating themselves alive with guilt. They both ended up hospitalized from stress. I watched them wither away and broke into a cold sweat. This wasn’t part of the plan. I couldn’t let that monster ruin us from afar. That night, I walked up to my parents’ hospital beds, tears streaming down my face. “Mom, Dad…” I choked out. Mom pulled me into a hug, wiping my tears. “Baby, do you miss Chloe? Are you blaming Mommy for losing her?” I shook my head violently and buried my face in her chest. “I lost my sister. I can’t lose you guys too.” “I’m so scared. Please don’t leave me alone. Mom, Dad, you have to get better!” It was like a bucket of ice water hit them. They realized they didn’t just have Chloe. They still had me, their eight-year-old daughter who needed them. The next day, they pulled themselves together. Three days later, we went home. They stopped blaming themselves in front of me. To make up for the loss, they poured double the love into me. Dad threw himself into his work to distract from the pain. He caught the wave of the tech boom. His small factory became a massive corporation. We moved from a cramped apartment to a sprawling estate in the hills. I became the sole heiress of the Joestar family. I was thirteen. Lying in my king-sized bed, I laughed out loud. I wondered what kind of “billionaire life” Chloe was living. If she knew we were filthy rich now, what kind of face would she make? The family she tried to escape was the very “wealthy dynasty” she dreamed of. In the last life, because she came back, my parents stayed middle-class workers. We lived ordinary lives. I smoothed the silk of my designer dress. Turns out, Chloe was the curse on this family. Without her, we soared. Because of how weak I was in my last life, I started training. Kickboxing, swimming, Pilates. I studied nutrition and medicine. I also hit the books hard. My parents, seeing me work so hard, were heartbroken. “Summer, we have enough money. You don’t need to push yourself. We just want you happy.” I flashed a sharp, toothy grin. “Mom, I am happy.” 3 Dad never stopped looking for Chloe, even while building his empire. He spent a fortune on missing person ads and offered a massive bounty. $5,000 for a lead. $2 million for finding her. Scammers lined up around the block. Dad didn’t care. He was practically giving money away, earning the nickname “The ATM.” Two years passed. Nothing. Mom was getting frustrated. “It’s all fake! Just people trying to swindle us!” Just as they were about to give up, a bald man showed up. I recognized him instantly. He was the driver of the van. Ten years hadn’t changed his sketchy, rat-like face. He licked his lips. “Mr. Joestar, I think I know where your girl is.” Dad waved him on. He’d heard it all before. “I saw a girl looking like her in B-City. But she was taken so young, I ain’t sure.” “I can go check. If I find her, I’ll let you know. But about the cash…” Dad sighed, barely listening. “Like I said. You find her, you get the two million.” Baldy rubbed his hands together, took the five grand “finder’s fee,” and left. My parents didn’t have much hope. B-City was 2,000 miles away. But I knew. Baldy wasn’t lying. He knew exactly where she was because he sold her there. But did he think he was getting that two million? In his dreams. I hired a private investigator immediately. “Find a girl named Chloe in B-City. You have one week.” Three days later, I got the photos. I laughed until my sides hurt. Oh, Chloe. Is this the high life you sold your soul for? 4 In the photos, Chloe was scrubbing toilets in a greasy diner, wearing rags. In another, she was sitting at a dinner table, eating watery porridge while a little boy across from her devoured a whole roast chicken. The PI told me the details: The couple who bought her couldn’t conceive. They wanted a son but couldn’t afford one, so they bought a girl cheap. Two years later, they miraculously had a biological son. Chloe became the live-in maid. She dropped out of school years ago. The “parents”—the Millers—forced her to work. Then the PI hesitated. “Miss Summer, there’s… something else.” “Spit it out.” “The second daughter… she has a boyfriend.” A boyfriend? Normal for an 18-year-old. But then I saw the photo. It was a wrinkly, toothless man in his sixties. The PI explained they often hooked up in the back of the diner after hours. The old guy, Gary, had a bit of money and bought her things. I paid the PI double to keep his mouth shut. Baldy was already on his way to B-City. The reunion was inevitable. That night, I put in eye drops to make my eyes red and puffy. Mom saw me and panicked. “Summer! Baby, who hurt you?” I bit my lip and slid the photos across the marble table. “Mom, Dad… I found her. I found Chloe. She’s… she’s suffering so much.” I withheld the photos of her and Old Man Gary. My parents took one look at Chloe scrubbing toilets and broke down. Mom wailed. “It’s our fault! We failed her!” They decided to drive to B-City immediately. As I stood up, I “accidentally” knocked the photo of Chloe and Gary onto the floor. “Oh no!” I scrambled to grab it, making sure they saw it clearly. “Mom, Dad, wait—Chloe must have a reason! Life is hard, maybe she had no choice!” My dad’s face turned purple. In the photo, Chloe was hanging off the old man, laughing with genuine delight. Mom pursed her lips. I hid the photo behind my back. “Don’t judge her! Maybe… maybe he’s a nice grandpa figure?” Dad slammed his chopsticks down. “We leave at dawn!” The guilt was still there, but now, it was mixed with shame. I went back to my room and smirked at the photo. Showtime.

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I’m a mukbang streamer, but I never purge. One day, someone spammed 100 “Carnival” gifts during my stream. All they wanted was to watch me eat in person, just once. When I arrived, I found out it wasn’t just her. There was also a strikingly handsome guy with pale skin and a gaunt frame. The elegant lady pulled out a thick envelope. “If you can get him to take even one bite, this ten thousand dollars is yours.” Turns out, severe anorexia is a real thing? I methodically polished off the entire table of food. Finally, I licked my lips and looked pitifully at the steak in front of him. “I… I’m still hungry. If you’re not going to eat that, can I have it…?” His pupils dilated in shock, and his slender, bony hand slammed down on the plate. “This is mine!” My ex-boyfriend told everyone I ate like a pig. So, I decided to become a mukbang streamer. Suddenly, someone dropped 100 “Carnival” gifts in my chat. All for the chance to watch me eat a meal live. “You really eat with such gusto, can you truly eat anything?” She watched wide-eyed as I demolished a whole table of delicacies. Pointing to the handsome guy next to her, she slapped down a red envelope. “If you can get him to eat a single bite, this ten thousand is yours.” Wait, people who don’t like food exist? Not in my worldview. I licked my lips and stared longingly at the steak in front of him. “I… um… if you’re not gonna eat that, can I have it…?” His pupils shook, and his elegant hand immediately guarded the plate. 1 He even picked up the bowl and had a few sips of mushroom soup. The lady next to him looked like she was about to cry tears of joy. But I just stared at his unfinished bowl. “Um, are you done with that? Can I drink it?” He looked at the table, wiped clean of food. Then he silently scooted his chair away from me. The elegant lady came to my rescue, “Dodo, are you still hungry?” I scratched my head, nodding sheepishly. “The portions here are kinda small, just a little bit on each plate.” She glanced at the dozen empty plates on the table and silently ordered another round. My eyes lit up. This place was amazing, the mushroom soup was to die for. Soon enough, I finished that round too. Seeing me stare hungrily at his bowl again, the handsome guy couldn’t help but take a few more sips. I wiped my mouth and started on the fruit platter. Chase finally couldn’t hold back, “You can still eat fruit?” I looked at him curiously. “Fruit is delicious, why wouldn’t I be able to eat it?” He reached out, pinched a slice of melon, and put it in his mouth. A flash of pain crossed my eyes. I unconsciously pulled the fruit platter closer to myself. The elegant lady’s eyes were shining with excitement. She grabbed my hand. “Dodo, please, I’m begging you. Eat with my son every day.” “Oh, don’t worry, I’ll cover all the food costs. You just need to show up.” “Ten thousand… is ten thousand a month okay?” Turns out the handsome guy had anorexia, so severe he needed IV drips. I looked at her in surprise. A job this good exists? Seeing I didn’t respond, she added, “Is it too little? Twenty thousand.” Chase suddenly scoffed. “Mom, let’s go. If we don’t leave, she won’t have anywhere to purge!” I stared at him blankly. You can insult my character. But you cannot insult my appetite. If it weren’t for four eyes watching me, making me a little shy… I could have eaten another table full. Food is precious; I never waste a crumb. 2 Don’t let my status as a humble little mukbang streamer fool you. I never, ever purge. “EatMoreDodo” is my handle. My real name is Bella Tang. But I’ve been hungry since I was a baby. Naming is serious business, folks. It wasn’t that my family was poor. Legend has it, I cried day and night during my first month. My mom almost lost her mind. Until my grandma came to visit and mixed a giant bottle of formula. I drank every drop and finally stopped crying. My mom was baffled. My intake was ten times the recommended amount. Basically, I had been starving for a whole month. They say my first words were “Eat food.” My mom always says… There was nothing in the house I hadn’t gnawed on, except the toilet. Everyone else used bowls. I used a pot. Because running back and forth to refill a bowl was too tiring. All the buffet restaurants in my hometown had my photo up in the staff room. “If she comes, pay her to go to the competitor across the street!” My parents even took me to the hospital, but the doctor said I was healthy. He said some people are just born with a big appetite and a strong stomach. During puberty. I tried to eat tiny portions like the other girls. But by the afternoon, I was dizzy and seeing stars. By the next meal, I couldn’t fake it anymore. The bowls I stacked up were half a meter high. My classmates were stunned by my appetite. They said I was born to be a mukbang streamer. Prophecy fulfilled. My mom always worried my salary wouldn’t cover my food bill. It covers it just fine. After all, eating is my job. Doesn’t that count as free meals? After a rough job hunt post-graduation, I just started livestreaming my daily meals. Somehow, people started treating me like a mukbang star. In reality, I was just eating my normal amount. Although my viewer count isn’t as high as the big streamers, it’s steady. Fans say they’ve never seen a streamer like me who goes live three times a day. More punctual than an alarm clock. And I chew slowly, making it pleasant to watch. They say watching me eat makes the food look delicious! Naturally. I eat on time, sleep early, wake up early, am not picky, and enjoy everything. Lots of people treat me as their virtual meal buddy. I picked up the red envelope from Chase’s mom, Auntie Sarah. “Thanks for today, Auntie! I’m gonna go digest now!” Her eyes lit up with curiosity, “Digest?” Chase looked like he expected this, “Eating so much and staying thin, heh heh.” I patted him. “You eat too little, nothing in your stomach. Otherwise, we could go together.” Auntie Sarah looked excited. “Then take me with you! Is this an industry secret I’m allowed to see?” I was confused. Do rich people not know how to digest food? 3 I led them on a walk along the road. Clapping my hands front and back as we walked. “A hundred steps after a meal, live to ninety-nine, hey!” Then raising arms up and down, crossing to pat shoulders. “Rotate and twist the universe, boost yang and strengthen the body!” Then flicking fingers with both hands. “Flick flick hands, worries go away, hey!” Half an hour later, I squinted comfortably. Auntie Sarah’s pupils were trembling. “This… this is what you call digestion?” Chase looked like he’d seen a ghost, lips pressed tight, speechless. I nodded. “You guys really don’t know how to digest after a meal?” “I do this post-meal walking exercise every day.” Auntie Sarah looked like she was about to jump. She slammed a card into my hand. “Okay, okay, okay! Here’s twenty thousand. Just eat with him for a month first.” “I’ll also arrange a chef to come over. He can cook whatever you want.” Look at this. I need to brag to my mom. People who know how to eat always have good luck! Twenty thousand a month! Auntie Sarah insisted on driving me home. The next day, she delivered Chase to the apartment across the hall. “I thought about it. Going to my place might make you uncomfortable, so sending him here is more convenient.” “His nickname is Biggy. He’s a year younger than you.” She left without looking back after saying that. Only then did I learn they bought the apartment across the hall overnight. Rich people really do whatever they want… When will I become one of the rich people in this world?! I looked at Chase, whose legs were thin as ostrich legs. “Biggy?” He slammed the door shut. Then opened it a crack, speaking arrogantly. “My name is Chase.” Oh well, names are important! Chase, like chasing food, but he doesn’t eat! “Okay, Biggy!” 4 Early the next morning, I prepared breakfast. Then I knocked on Chase’s door. He saw my table full of food. Each dish on a colorful plate. His handsome face was just like my plates. What’s the word? Feast for the eyes. I had Chase sit at the other end of the long table. Then I turned on the phone on the stand to start the stream. My fans know my streams are quiet. Just a few sentences. “Hi everyone, breakfast time! Here’s today’s deliciousness.” “Dodo is gonna start eating!” Then I focused on enjoying the food. First, a bite of yam and hawthorn jujube cake. Sweet and sour, really appetizing. Chase sat opposite me. As I chewed and chewed… He couldn’t help but pick up a piece of cake too. Then he drank some porridge, mimicking my movements like a robot. I couldn’t help sharing. “Biggy, I pickled these veggies myself. They smell amazing!” Comments started floating across the screen. “Streamer is eating breakfast with someone today? What about last night??” “Boo hoo, my little cabbage has a pig.” “Who is it? Which pig dares to root up my soft and sticky streamer!” I laughed and explained. “My little brother came to visit. I’ll be eating with him lately. He won’t be on camera, stream content won’t change!” “So it’s a little brother. Streamer is so cute, brother must be… hehehe, let the sisters see.” “I just like watching the streamer, stop interrupting upstairs.” “Little brother, then it’s fine. As long as it’s not a pig rooting the cabbage.” “Too bad my son is only in first grade. Streamer, grow up slower.” I’m often amused by the comments. When I finished everything, I turned off the stream. “Done eating, bye bye, see you at lunch!” While I was cleaning up the plates, Chase stood in front of me, squinting, voice rising. “Little brother?” Despite being thin, he had a large frame and broad shoulders, blocking the kitchen doorway. “Biggy brother, what’s up?” I pushed him away. As expected, no pecs. Bad review. “You…” He moved away from the door, changing the subject. “Others stream all day and sell products. Do you earn enough to feed yourself?” I showed him my phone screen with the viewer count. Thousands of people watch me eat every day now. Although I never promote products or make big money. Breaking even is no problem. He knows how to hurt people. I gave him a gloomy look. He huffed lightly and lifted his chin, saying nothing more. I started my post-meal exercises. “Biggy, join in.” I went over to teach him the moves. His fingers were so long and slender, like a hand model. I couldn’t help but pinch them! He shrank back slightly, ears turning suspiciously red. “You… what are you doing?” “Teaching you. You have to do this. Hit the tiger’s mouth points together. Good for the spleen and stomach.” He complained verbally. But under my “one, two, three, four” rhythm, his hands moved too. Like a ninety-year-old lady dancing tango in a wheelchair—ten beats slow! Just then, a noise came from the door. The door opened with a roar. A bouquet of roses was smashed onto the floor.

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After the college entrance exams, my twin brother and I were dragged to the Judgment Stage. In our world, the rule is simple: only the “superior” twin gets to live. Everyone thought I was dead meat. Even my parents were betting on my brother, smug in their certainty that he’d be the survivor. What they didn’t know was that I’d been letting him win for eighteen years. And now, the act was finally over. 1 In the society I live in, twins are considered a curse. The law dictates that only the best one survives. So, on our eighteenth birthday, every set of twins faces the Judgment. A series of tests determines who is worthy of life. My brother, Julian, and I are twins. But from day one, our parents played favorites. To ensure Julian was the survivor, they sabotaged me at every turn. They stunted my growth, capped my potential. If I showed even a glimmer of talent above Julian, they crushed it. By eighteen, I was, by design, a nobody. “Noah, we don’t want to see you go either, but these are the rules,” my dad said, standing on the Judgment Stage, his arm protectively around Julian. His tone was dripping with fake sympathy. “Don’t blame us. You just didn’t try hard enough. Personality, grades… you never measured up to your brother.” “I’m sorry, bro,” Julian added, his voice sickly sweet. “But rules are rules.” They spoke as if the verdict was already in. The audience below seemed to agree. “This is a waste of time. The older brother is toast.” “Look at his parents crying. He doesn’t even look sad. No filial piety score for him.” “I saw the leaks online. He’s inferior in every metric.” “Ungrateful brat. Just execute him already.” The comments flooded the livestream. The world had already condemned me. Everyone assumed I was walking to my execution today. Facing the camera, I couldn’t help but crack a smile. A genuinely excited one. In my past life, I let their sabotage turn me into a loser. I thought they were being strict because they loved me. I thought they just didn’t want me to work too hard. It wasn’t until I stood on this stage the first time that I realized: it was all for Julian. From the start, they chose him. For eighteen years, they groomed me for death. In that life, I lost. I died a humiliating death, labeled a waste of space, while my parents celebrated their golden child. But when I opened my eyes, I was three years old again. Reborn. This time, I trained in secret. I hid my skills. I played the fool so my parents wouldn’t see me as a threat. I let Julian win for fifteen years, just for this moment. Now, the mask comes off. 2 [The 120,893rd Twin Judgment has officially commenced.] [Order in the court!] The AI Judge slammed the gavel. The stadium went silent. [This Judgment will extract memories from five dimensions for comprehensive analysis. Only the superior twin may survive.] [Dimension One: Personality.] The massive screen lit up with memories provided by Julian. It started when we were four. We were trying to make friends at the park. Julian was instantly popular, surrounded by kids. The memory showed me being pushed aside, alone in the sandbox. This scene replayed over the years. New schools, new neighborhoods. Julian was the social butterfly; I was the outcast. The livestream chat scrolled fast. “Noah must have a personality disorder. Why does everyone hate him?” “Exactly. If he’s the only one being isolated, he’s the problem.” “Personality round goes to Julian, no contest.” “Betting a dollar on the little brother.” After a minute of processing, the AI Judge spoke. [Dimension One: Personality Judgment. Winner: Noah.] The crowd gasped. Question marks flooded the chat. My parents and Julian looked like they’d been slapped. “??? What? Is the AI glitched?” “Did Noah bribe the system?” “The AI never makes mistakes. We need an explanation.” Beep. The screen flickered. Now, it was playing my memories. In the video, four-year-old me stumbled upon Julian whispering to a group of kids. “My brother steals toys. And he doesn’t wash his hands. Don’t play with him, okay?” “Really? He seems nice,” one kid said. “He’s faking it! He steals my stuff all the time. My mom says so. If you play with him, he’ll steal from you too. And… if you play with him, you can’t play with us anymore.” The kids nodded, terrified. “Okay! We won’t play with him!” Scene shift. High school. I was standing outside the classroom door. Inside, Julian was holding court. “You guys don’t know what it’s like at home. Noah bullies me constantly. And… he sleeps around. Like, a lot. I tried to tell him to stop, but he just screams at me…” “Whoa, really? That’s disgusting.” Julian’s lies poisoned every well. For over a decade, every time we entered a new environment, Julian launched a smear campaign. He orchestrated my isolation. Anyone who tried to be my friend was bullied into submission by Julian’s clique. In my last life, I thought I was just unlikable. This time, I watched him. I gathered evidence. The chat exploded. “Holy crap. Julian is a master manipulator.” “I went to high school with them! I can confirm Julian was always talking trash about Noah.” “Poor Noah. Stabbed in the back by his own twin.” “That’s not just mean, that’s sociopathic. Team Noah all the way.” Seeing the tide turn, Julian panicked. “No! That’s not it! I was just joking! I didn’t think they’d take it seriously! I didn’t mean to isolate him…” Nobody bought it. The “bully” label stuck. 3 The gavel banged again. [Order!] [Dimension Two: Talent.] The screen showed Julian’s highlight reel. Dance competitions. Trophies. Since he was five, my parents hired top coaches for him. They flew him around the country for contests. Julian was hailed as a prodigy. Julian and my parents smirked. This was their slam dunk. “Where’s Noah’s reel?” someone asked in the chat. My dad chimed in, looking sad. “We tried to put Noah in dance class too. But he had no talent, and he complained it was too hard. He quit.” I scoffed. “Ah, so Noah gave up. Typical.” “Julian is a bully, but you can’t deny his talent. That pirouette was clean.” “I’ve seen his TikToks. Kid can move.” [Dimension Two: Talent Judgment. Winner: Noah.] “WHAT?!” “Okay, the AI is broken. Julian has trophies! What does Noah have?” Beep. My memories played. Little Noah and Little Julian in the dance studio. I was naturally flexible. The teacher praised me constantly. Julian’s face in the background was twisted with jealousy. Scene shift: The day of a big competition. Julian sneaking into the locker room. Putting thumbtacks in my ballet shoes. I put them on. Blood soaked the satin. I couldn’t walk, let alone dance. My parents didn’t care. They left me bleeding on the bench to go watch Julian perform. “Julian, you make us so proud!” they cooed after he won, hugging him while I limped behind them. When I showed them the tack—a specific colored tack from Julian’s craft kit—they dismissed it. “It’s not Julian’s fault you’re clumsy. You just don’t have the talent.” They pulled me out of dance class the next day. The chat went nuclear. “Those parents are monsters!” “They forced him to quit because they were scared he’d beat the golden child!” Julian and my parents were turning pale. But the video wasn’t over. In my last life, I quit dancing and ate my feelings. I became obese and depressed. Julian stayed fit and famous. This time, after being pulled from class, I went to my teacher, Mr. Yang, crying. “Mr. Yang, I love dancing. But I can’t come anymore.” “Noah, you’re the most gifted student I’ve ever seen. Why?” “My brother doesn’t want me to be better than him. My parents said no.” Mr. Yang looked at me with heartbreak in his eyes. Then he grabbed my hand. “Noah, come to my house after school. I’ll teach you for free. Secretly.” For thirteen years, I trained in secret. Every routine I mastered, Mr. Yang recorded and posted online under an anonymous account. I am “The Masked Dancer.” I have five million followers. “Wait… The Masked Dancer?! Professionals study his videos!” “Holy sh*t! Noah is The Masked Dancer?!” “Julian is a good amateur. Noah is a pro. No wonder he won.” 4 Two losses in a row. My parents were fuming. “Noah! You snuck around behind our backs?! How could you be so deceitful?!” “Yeah! Keeping secrets from family?” [Order! Disruption of the court will result in immediate termination.] The AI shut them up instantly. [Dimension Three: Compassion.] Julian’s memories again. Him feeding stray cats. Him building shelters. A montage of saintly behavior. Then, a scene where I kicked over a bowl of food he set out. “What are you doing?!” Julian cried in the video. “They’re hungry!” “No! Don’t feed them!” Video-Me shouted, kicking the cats away. “Scram!” “You’re so cruel, Noah!” Julian sobbed. The memory ended. “Okay, Noah is an animal abuser. Confirmed.” “Kicking cats? Yeah, he’s evil.” “Doesn’t matter how good he dances if he has no soul.” [Dimension Three: Compassion Judgment. Winner: Noah.] “…” “This is rigged.” “I saw him kick the cat! Explain that!” The AI played my perspective. After I kicked the cats away, the conversation continued. A part Julian’s memory conveniently left out. “Are you an idiot? Cats can’t eat that much salt! You’re feeding them our leftovers—oily, spicy, salty food! You’re killing their kidneys!” “I just wanted to help! My intentions were good!” Julian yelled back. “Keep your fake kindness. Why do you think the strays around here keep dying? Kidney failure. Because of you!” I stormed off. Scene shift: Me at the vet, paying with my saved allowance to treat a sick cat. In my last life, I found out during the Judgment that Julian had been poisoning the neighborhood cats with human food for years, thinking he was Snow White. “Oh my god. Julian was killing them with ‘kindness’.” “He’s stupid and malicious.” Julian was trembling. “I didn’t know! I didn’t mean to…” The chat wasn’t having it. “Ignorance isn’t an excuse for killing animals.” Julian, who had never faced real criticism in his life, broke down sobbing. “Don’t cry, baby,” Mom comforted him. Then she glared at me. “Noah, he’s your brother! Can’t you let him win one? Just this once?” “Let him win?” I asked innocently. “You mean lie to the Supreme Judge? Isn’t perjury… illegal?” [Warning. Coercing a participant to commit perjury is punishable by immediate termination.] My dad shut his mouth so fast I heard his teeth click. “No, no! Just a joke!” [Halftime. Judgment will resume in 30 minutes.] The chat was buzzing. “Noah is actually… kinda cool.” “Yeah, the cold demeanor makes sense now. He’s surrounded by idiots.” “I feel bad for him. Imagine living with that family.” The tide had turned. And my family knew it.

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I will die if I don’t kiss my mortal enemy. To survive, I became a master of emotional whiplash. One second, we’re screaming at each other. The next, I’m pinning him against the wall, locking lips. One second, I’m sneering and telling him to get lost. The next, I’m pulling him back for a desperate make-out session. Day after day, more punctual than a 9-to-5 job. Chase Sterling started looking at me like I belonged in a padded cell. I had no choice but to lean into the “psycho ex-rival” persona. Until one day, the System shrieked in my brain: [SYSTEM ALERT: Bad news, Host! Kisses aren’t enough to sustain your life force anymore!] My world collapsed. 1 Survived another day. I looked down at the man beneath me—swollen lips, shirt in disarray. Explaining this was getting harder. Since I couldn’t change myself, I had to change him. Chase Sterling was getting used to it. He lay there, sharp brows furrowed, high nose bridge catching the light, expression unreadable. I scrambled off him, backing away two steps, laughing nervously. “Haha, oops. Just… stumbled. My bad.” Chase clearly didn’t buy my BS. He twitched his mouth and hissed in pain. Guilt pricked me. I rushed it. I definitely busted his lip. Chase laughed, a cold, sarcastic sound. “You’re strong.” I didn’t dare speak. He stared at me flatly. “So you come over here, cuss me out, just so you can eat my face? Is that the play?” I stood there, forcing calm. [System, I sacrifice so much for myself.] The System comforted me: [It’s not your fault. You just love living too much.] Ever since I started relying on Chase’s lips for sustenance, I lost the moral high ground in our arguments. Chase sat up, straightening his clothes. He was tall, with broad shoulders and a narrow waist. Even fully clothed, the muscle definition was obvious. He looked… aggressive. Afraid he might deck me, I backed toward the door, hand finding the knob. I pressed down. It didn’t budge. Right. This was Chase’s room. Haha. Why did he lock the door? Paranoid much? Chase finished adjusting his collar, leaned against the wall, and crossed his arms. He smirked, terrifyingly. “Running away again?” The System trembled in my brain: [Host, I’m scared… maybe we should kneel and apologize? Maybe he’ll get possessive, grab your waist, and give you his life instead…] I mentally cursed: [Where did you learn that trash? Fanfiction?] I chose silence. Chase chuckled softly. He walked toward me slowly, his shadow engulfing mine. “Nothing to say?” I gritted my teeth. “I’m sorry, I was wrong, I didn’t mean to. You know my life hasn’t been easy. Einstein invented the apple, Newton said pool tables falling from trees kill people, but nobody knows that today, the person I should thank most is you…” I stopped because Chase lifted my chin. He was undeniably handsome. But I swear I had no designs on him. I’ve hated his guts since kindergarten. The man is the King of Pretension. But yeah, assaulting him daily wasn’t exactly cool. Chase’s thumb pressed hard against my lip. “You owe me a lot more than an apology.” “…” My bad. 2 If depression was a talent, I’d be a prodigy. Six months ago, a car ran a red light and flattened me. I died. But not completely. I accidentally acquired a System. The System told me it wasn’t my time. But living came with a condition: I had to leech off Chase Sterling’s “luck.” Haha. Loan-sharking my own life. The problem was, Chase and I were enemies. As kids, he copied everything I did. I played with RC planes, he played with RC planes. I played with cars, he played with cars. I played with Barbies, he snatched the Barbies! Growing up, it got worse. I went on vacation; he followed. If I wore a brand twice, his closet would be full of it the next day. Whatever hobby I picked up, he was there in the next class. If I could do it, he could do it. If I couldn’t, he could. It really cramped my style. One day I snapped: “You know Dolly the sheep only lived six years, right?” He shrugged. “So? People remembered her for decades.” “…” From then on, it was war. Running in the same social circles meant constant clashes. Sarcasm was our love language. Everyone knew we hated each other. Back then, even if someone told me to my face they hated me, I’d politely reply, “Sorry, I already have someone I hate.” But since I started needing Chase to live, I visited him constantly. Our friends thought I was plotting his murder. Even when I explained I was just there to visit (kiss) him. Nobody believed me. People actually warned Chase to watch his back. That is what you call a reputation. System: [What are you proud of?] When life is on the line, dignity takes a backseat. I’ll never forget Chase’s face the first time I kissed him. I had just revived. I was disoriented. Chase rushed in from somewhere, eyes red, suit messy. I saw him and instinctively rolled my eyes. I might have hallucinated it, but he seemed to relax. He looked me over several times before straightening his tie. “You’re okay?” I snapped, “Worry about yourself. I’m fine.” System: [Cough.] I froze. Chase, seeing I was my usual prickly self, turned to leave. System: [Don’t waste the resurrection! Do it now!] 3 I closed my eyes, grabbed Chase’s arm, and yanked. Surprisingly, he stumbled toward me easily. He even bent down slightly, cooperating. He looked surprised but smirked. “What game are you playin—” I grabbed the back of his neck and pulled him down. His lips were warm and soft. Completely unlike his personality. My eyes were open. I saw Chase’s sharp, arrogant eyes widen in genuine confusion. A strange feeling rose in my chest. —I wanted to break his perfect mask. —I wanted to see what was underneath. Chase didn’t push me away. Probably because he was in shock. Confidence is conserved; he lost his, so I gained it. I sucked on his lip, just to be mean. He froze completely. The hospital door opened. I shoved him away, pretending nothing happened. Facing the doctor’s stare, Chase touched his ear, which was burning red, and left in shame. That night, amidst our usual chat history of insults, Chase sent a single, genuine question mark. I didn’t reply. The next day, I ambushed him at his office. Kiss, run. Day three, he caught me. “Are you sick?” I said, “This is the last time. You think you’re tasty?” Day four, he grabbed my jaw, veins popping. “Chloe, if I believe you again, I’m a dog.” Day five, he texted me the address of his business trip. I chased him around for two months. Two months was enough to convince Chase I was mentally unstable. And enough for him to accept the daily kiss tax. Not just me—Chase’s kissing technique improved drastically. I was alive, but living requires thinking about the future. Lying on the sofa, I groaned to the System: [We hate each other, and I’m assaulting him daily. When does this end?] The System sounded tired: [You call that assault… whatever, let me check…] Silence for three seconds. Then a screeching alarm. [Host, we’re screwed! This level of intimacy isn’t enough anymore!] [What???] [You need to sleep with him now!] I jumped off the couch. [Just kill me!] The System, being an AI with no physical body to harm, stayed calm. [Host, listen. Sleeping renews life faster and lasts longer. Basically, do it ten times, and you’re cured. No more contact needed.] I paused. So, if we sleep together, I can live freely? I tested the waters: […By sleep, do you mean PG-13 or…] System: [This isn’t kindergarten.] Oh. I asked with a sliver of hope: [Can I have some time to mentally prepare?] System: [Day after tomorrow, latest.] Okay. Fine. Damn you, System. 4 Saturday morning. Chase texted. [Address] [Dinner tonight.] I had one day left to live. Delay tactics. I wasn’t going to spoil him today. Me: [Busy.] Chase: [?] Chase: [Doing what?] I made something up. [Swimming with friends.] Chase took a long time to reply. Just two words. [Thirsty?] [?] I immediately understood. My fist clenched. When I learned to swim, I couldn’t breathe right. I swallowed half the pool every time. I thought I hid it well. Until the coach told me to stop drinking or he’d charge me for the water. Embarrassed, I looked around. And saw Chase watching the show. He had just finished a lap, arms resting on the deck, muscles gleaming, skin blindingly white. I rolled my eyes at him. He smirked, the bastard. “Shallow end for sipping, deep end for chugging,” he said, then swam off. The coach’s laughter echoed through the pool. I hate him. Countless moments like that. Chase haunted my life, witnessing every single embarrassment. [I’m actually mad now. It’s war!] System: […Calm down, boss!] Phone pinged. I picked it up, ready for battle. [If you don’t come, no kiss.] “…” System: [What now?] I laughed coldly. Typed: [Look at you, getting serious. I was just joking.] [Smiling_Through_The_Pain.jpg] The System laughed at me. Mercilessly.

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What do you do when your husband suddenly becomes filthy rich? Divorce him. Immediately. Every second you hesitate is a second you lose. The day Gavin Sterling became the richest man in River City, I took half his assets and walked away with a smile. His eyes were bloodshot as he grabbed my shoulders. “Luna, you are heartless!” Ten years. The pig I raised was finally fat enough to slaughter. Who understands this joy? 1 I think I’m the first woman who wanted a divorce specifically because her husband got rich. The reason was simple. I discovered Gavin Sterling was thinking about cheating. He was one step away from crossing the line. After a brief moment of shock and sadness, I felt relieved. Actually, five years ago, when his company got its first round of VC funding and started exploding, I had a premonition this day would come. Gavin couldn’t escape the law of nature: men go bad when they get rich. Gavin didn’t know that when he and his buddy, Xavier, were discussing his potential infidelity in the study, I was standing right outside with a tray of coffee. “Hey, Gav, that TV host Bella is pretty hot. What do you think?” Gavin replied lazily, “The spirit is willing, but the flesh is weak.” “But you bought her a Maserati? That’s not how you spend money if you’re just looking, bro.” My fingers froze. My heart slammed against my ribs. A Maserati? Big spender. Then I heard Gavin’s tired voice. “It’s just a car.” “Ha! Alright, I’ll keep her warm for you. Maybe you’ll change your mind one day.” “Do whatever.” The conversation about Bella ended there, and they went back to talking business. It seemed like just idle talk between men over a cigarette. Not a big deal. I drank that coffee myself and stared at the ceiling until dawn. The irony was rich. When we got married, we were so poor we couldn’t afford a reception. Gavin was currently planning a grand wedding ceremony for me to make up for it. He felt guilty towards me, but that didn’t stop him from buying expensive toys for another woman. Heh. The human heart is unpredictable, and money is a deep ocean. Divorce. I had to divorce him. And fast! Delay leads to disaster. 2 I met with my divorce lawyer, Ryan, at a coffee shop. Coincidentally, the TV in the lobby was playing Bella’s financial talk show. This must be where Gavin met her. The young, beautiful host. Elegant, articulate, insightful. Even facing billionaires who were usually out of reach for normal people, she didn’t flinch. Ryan was an old classmate of mine, now a big-shot divorce attorney. Seeing me stare at the screen, he smiled. “Luna, that Bella looks a bit like you.” I snapped immediately. “Where?!” Bella had long hair. I had a bob. Ryan blinked, confused. “Everyone says so. We even talked about it at the reunion.” I frowned and scoffed. “That’s unfortunate.” I wasn’t in the mood to discuss Bella. I told him straight up: I wanted to divorce Gavin. “Luna, are you kidding? You finally made it to the good life, and you want out?” “Do I look like I joke about marriage?” I rolled my eyes. Our classmates had witnessed how recklessly I married Gavin back then. I couldn’t blame Ryan for being shocked. “You married him when he was dirt poor. You leave him when he’s the richest guy in town. Luna, you sure have a personality.” I replied slowly, “Ryan, I could handle the poor boy back then. Do you think I can handle the richest man in River City now?” “You’ve fought so many divorce cases. I thought you’d understand best.” Who knows the darkness and ugliness of human nature better than lawyers? Especially divorce lawyers. Ryan was speechless for a long time before he clicked his tongue and asked tentatively, “Gavin… did he cheat?” “He’s one step away.” “Then rein him in? Sentencing him to death now seems a bit harsh.” I snorted. “If I’m not harsh now, he’ll be harsh later. Ryan, tell me, in the cases you handle…” “Does the wife get more based on love, or based on the man’s guilt?” Once the mistress actually takes the throne, how much I get depends on their charity. I refuse to be the passive one! Ryan choked. “Luna, your calmness scares me.” Calmness? My calmness was cultivated over five years. Besides Bella, Gavin’s secretary, Holly, was also eyeing him like a hungry wolf. I can’t remember which day it was. I went to have lunch with Gavin. Through the crack in the door, I saw Holly standing on tiptoes to fix his tie. Then she carefully took a thermos of hangover soup from her own lunch bag. Holly was always making moves on him. He always refused. But that day, when the driver brought his lunch box home… The hangover soup I made was untouched. The knot I tied hadn’t even been loosened. Ash from my cigarette fell onto my finger. Ryan looked at me with deep emotion. “Luna, I should send my female clients to you for lessons.” I stubbed out the cigarette and smiled. “It’s useless. They aren’t willing, and they aren’t ruthless enough.” They aren’t willing to give up such an excellent husband to someone else. They think they can be the exception to the cliché. Unless it gets to the bitter end where faces are ripped off and love is dead, they can’t be ruthless. So, people shouldn’t be too greedy. Wanting money and the man? That leads to losing everything. I’m different. Because no one else does what I do: always plotting an exit strategy within the marriage. Of course. I will divorce him. But before I do… I need to use my status as Mrs. Sterling to have a little chat with Bella! 3 That evening, at the dinner table. I purposely put Bella’s show on in the background. It was the episode with Gavin. He touched his face. “What, you think I looked good that day too?” He acted flawless. Zero guilt. I almost believed the Maserati was a toy car. “Gavin, I saw a car I like.” He didn’t care. “Oh? Rare for you to care about cars. Which one? I’ll go with you to pick it up.” I looked at him calmly. “Maserati Levante.” His smile faded slowly. He looked at me with a calculating gaze. “I thought you liked Range Rovers?” I tapped the table. “Fine. Range Rover it is.” As long as it was more expensive than a Maserati. Not long after, I crossed paths with Bella. Her Maserati crashed into my Range Rover. I planned it. Unfortunately, her car was fragile. Bella stood helplessly by her car, glaring at my bumper with resentment. Two luxury cars colliding caused a traffic jam. The police arrived instantly. “Miss Bella, the dashcam shows you made an illegal U-turn. You are fully liable.” Bella looked heartbrokenly at her crumpled door, the shattered headlights, the bent bumper. “Couldn’t you have just let me go? I was prepared to take the points on my license, but now look, both cars need repairs.” Her eyes turned red, playing the victim immediately. Her entitled attitude stunned the cop. An angry male driver nearby shouted, “You’re used to people letting you have your way, huh? That’s a Range Rover! Why would she be scared of you?” “Satisfying! Only magic beats magic!” I watched the show enough, then slowly opened my door and got out. Bella’s accusations hit me in the face. “Why were you driving so slow?! Is the road a shopping mall? I wanted to pass, and you wouldn’t let me. Were you blocking me on purpose?!” “I was in a rush, I had no choice but to step on the gas, you—” Her words died in her throat when she saw me. Her face went pale instantly. I smiled. “Driving such a nice car, but still rushing to work for money? Seems a Maserati can’t change destiny.” “You need a good man for that. Then you could drive leisurely like me.” Bella gritted her teeth, face turning iron gray. She got back in her car without a word. She told the cop, “It’s settled, right? I’ll pay.” The cop nodded and hurried to clear the traffic. I watched her drive away thoughtfully and let out a cold laugh. I was in a hurry to divorce. But surprisingly, Bella was in more of a hurry than me. Or maybe she was just pissed I wrecked her car. A few days later, I received a video file from Xavier’s phone. At a square mahjong table, Gavin was sitting next to Bella, pointing at her tiles. Bella glanced at him sideways, voice dripping with sugar. “Mr. Sterling, which one should I play? My palms are sweating.” Gavin looked at her indulgently. “Whatever you want. If you lose, it’s on me.” The others at the table roared with laughter. When Bella looked down to draw a tile, her long hair fell forward. Gavin naturally picked up a hair tie from the table and tied her hair back for her. “Play well, okay?” My fingers trembled as I tugged at my own short hair. I slammed the phone off and threw it on the bed. A sour, aching feeling surged up. I couldn’t stand steady; blood rushed to my head. I gripped the edge of the desk tightly to calm myself down. If his cheating partner wasn’t Bella, I might have actually let him go peacefully. Not long after receiving the video, Xavier called. He anxiously defended himself. “Sis, I’m so sorry, I couldn’t recall the message. I didn’t mean to send it, it wasn’t me!” “Please, don’t tell Gavin.” I replied flatly, “I know it wasn’t you.” He let out a huge sigh of relief. “Don’t overthink it. You know how Gavin feels about you. That was just a social scene.” “I guarantee, I could cheat a hundred times and he wouldn’t cheat once!” “So someone is trying to drag him down.” He wiped imaginary sweat. “Yes, yes, Mrs. Sterling is sharp as always. My bad.” I hung up, bored. I didn’t believe a word from that playboy. But one thing was true. He wouldn’t dare send that video to me. Only a woman like Bella, with her “family heritage” of climbing the ladder, would do something like that! Xavier’s comment, “I’ll keep her warm for you,” proved he was interested in Bella too. He just didn’t dare snatch food from the tiger’s mouth out of respect for Gavin. It wouldn’t be hard for Bella to get his phone. I called Ryan. “How’s it going? Takes you a week to write a divorce agreement?” “No way, we’re old friends. I was giving you time to cool off.” “If I don’t get it tomorrow, I’m finding someone else.” “Alright, alright, fine.” Time to show my hand to Gavin. 4 I walked into the CEO’s office and made my demand straight away. “Gavin, I need you to do something for me.” Gavin leaned his elbows on the desk, fingers interlaced, looking at me with a measuring gaze. “Mrs. Sterling seems hostile today.” I leaned forward, forcing a smile that didn’t reach my eyes. “I wouldn’t dare. I’m just here to ask Mr. Sterling for something.” “What?” I enunciated every word. “The keys to the Maserati Levante.” He froze. His face went through a kaleidoscope of expressions. We stared at each other for a few seconds, neither backing down. Finally, he tried to coax me helplessly. “Luna, that’s not important. It didn’t cost much.” His face said I was being unreasonable. “You’ve never been a petty person.” I couldn’t be bothered to argue. “Mr. Sterling, can you get them back?” Gavin stared at me intently, trying to gauge how serious I was. I stared right back. He gritted his teeth, rubbed his brow, and finally replied, “Fine. Tomorrow.” This was the first time I hadn’t given Gavin face. But it didn’t matter. Goal achieved. “Thanks.” I smiled faintly and turned to leave without hesitation. As my hand touched the doorknob, Gavin’s voice came from behind. “Luna, are you jealous?” I replied ambiguously, “You can think that.” Once I got the Maserati keys, I drove straight to the TV station and asked Bella out. In the cafe downstairs, Bella arrived late, looking haggard. Doesn’t feel good to have a gift repossessed, does it? “Miss Bella, please sit.” I raised my hand. Her eyes locked onto the car key next to my coffee cup, pupils shrinking violently! She sat down rudely and sneered at me. “Is Mrs. Sterling here to show off?” She flipped her hair, looking at me defiantly. “Mr. Sterling did ask for the key back, but for a man of his status, taking back a gift means an even more expensive compensation later.” I looked at her blandly. Of course I knew such simple logic. But I didn’t care. “And doing this really makes a man lose face.” I waited for her to finish, then slowly pushed the car key toward her. “His face doesn’t matter to me. Miss Bella, a Maserati isn’t worth showing off. I took it back because…” I paused. She looked at me warily. I chuckled. “I just wanted to give it to you personally.” She looked at me sharply. “What do you mean?!” I spoke slowly. “If you want it, I can give it. But you cannot snatch it. Understand, my dear sister?” Her face went instantly pale. The coffee in her hand splashed. She quickly put it down. I crossed my arms and sneered at her. At that moment, I was a porcupine with all quills out. Yes, Bella is my half-sister from a different mother. As of today, we hadn’t seen each other in twenty years. So we both pretended not to know each other. Actually, the moment I heard the name Bella, I knew it was her. At the accident scene, Bella recognized me immediately too. Her target was Gavin. How could she not research who Mrs. Sterling was? She just hadn’t officially ascended to the throne yet, so she kept a low profile. Based on my knowledge of her mother, Wendy, and their family education… Once she succeeded, Bella would put on a pitiful face and say, “Sister, I’m so sorry, I really didn’t know Gavin was my brother-in-law.” I wouldn’t give her that satisfaction! Divorce is fine. But letting Bella even smell Gavin? That would be my failure. She wants to pull the same stunt Wendy pulled on my mom? Impossible. Thanks to that mother-daughter duo, I learned a lesson very young. Never give anyone the chance to catch you off guard!

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After I got into the same college as my online boyfriend, he sent me a photo of myself and broke up with me. “I fell in love with her. I’ll make it up to you.” I laughed. “So she’s the main chick and I’m the side piece? I can’t live without you.” He got annoyed. “Silly girl, I’m a cheater and I have ED. You deserve better.” Just as I was about to tell him the girl in the photo was actually me… He sent a picture of a god-tier handsome guy. “This is my roommate, the campus crush. Rich family, never dated, 8.5 inches. I’ll set you up with him, okay?” I swallowed hard. “Fine. But don’t come begging for me back.” He swore, “Don’t worry. If I beg for you back, I’m a dog.” But later, the usually cool and rebellious bad boy was wearing a collar, kneeling at my feet like a puppy, crying and begging: “Please, take me back. Or let him be the main guy and I’ll be the side piece. I don’t have ED, I’m a machine.” “Please?” 1 [Babe, let’s break up.] Even though this online relationship was whatever to me, receiving Chase’s breakup text out of the blue was still a shock. I called him to ask why. Chase was brutally honest. “I saw a freshman today. She fits my type perfectly, like she was made for me.” “I feel like if I can’t be with her in this life, living is meaningless.” “So, Babe, let me go. I’ll make it up to you.” I laughed. “You used to say if you couldn’t be with me, living was meaningless.” Chase coughed guiltily. “Men say all kinds of crap when chasing a girl. But she’s different. I’m serious about her.” Serious after one look? I don’t buy it. Also, Chase and I dated online for a year. He’s a genius jock, handsome with sharp features, eyes that hook you in. My favorite “bad boy” type. I wanted to taste him before breaking up. I tried to salvage it. “Lots of people say I’m super pretty too. Why don’t you see me first?” I opened my photo gallery. “No need. I’ve seen your pics. I know you’re beautiful, but you’re the ‘cool older sister’ type. I prefer her, the ‘cute lolita’ type.” My photos are “cool older sister” vibes? “Chase, are you mistaken? I’m nowhere near that style.” Chase sent a photo. “I lied before when I said I didn’t care about looks and didn’t want to video chat. I actually saw your old profile pic ages ago.” I looked at the photo of a girl in a leather jacket on a motorcycle, looking fierce. Just as I was about to say that’s my sister, Lindsay… Chase sent another photo. Of me. “Look at my dream girl.” “Actually, you two look a bit alike, but the vibes are totally different.” “You’re cool and sassy. If your voice wasn’t my type, I wouldn’t have chased you.” “But she’s different. Big eyes, small face, voice sweet like honey. My soul left my body.” “By the way, showing you this is to prove I’m serious. Don’t do anything crazy with her photo.” I didn’t expect Chase to like me this much. I burst out laughing. Decided to mess with him. “Then let her be the main chick and I’ll be the side piece. I can’t live without you.” Chase sighed heavily. “Silly girl, I’m a cheater and I have ED. You deserve better.” Liar. He’s the captain of the basketball team, stamina for days, legs for miles. When we did stuff over the phone, he lasted at least thirty minutes. Just as I was about to say the second photo was me… He suddenly sent a picture of a guy who looked like a celestial being. “This is my roommate, Liam. Campus crush. Rich family, never dated, 8.5 inches. I’ll set you up with him, okay?” In the photo, Liam had fair skin, red lips, and a high nose bridge. Wearing a crisp white shirt. His fingers holding a pen were long and elegant, nails neatly trimmed. Sitting at a desk bathed in sunlight, he looked like a piece of flawless jade. My heart skipped a beat. And that skipped beat made me realize something. I don’t have a “type.” I’m just horny. Plus, I haven’t met anyone hotter. Might as well date Liam for now. But… “Will he actually date me?” “He will. We’re best bros. If he dares to say no, I’ll put a knife to his throat.” I laughed. “Okay then. But don’t come begging for me back.” Chase swore, “Don’t worry. If I beg for you back, I’m a dog.” Heh. Does he think I’d want him back? My parents were strict about dating in high school, so I had to sneak around online. Now that I’m at UVA, my family supports me dating. I can’t wait to date all the hot guys. No way I’m going back to an ex. “Which college are you at again? I sent your WeChat to Liam. I told him to ask you out tomorrow.” Before, to surprise Chase, I only said I was coming to Charlottesville for college, didn’t specify UVA. But no point hiding it now. Just as I was about to speak… “Forget it, talk amongst yourselves. I gotta go prep my confession for my dream girl tomorrow. Bye.” Chase hung up. Immediately, a friend request from Liam popped up. 2 But I played hard to get and didn’t click [Accept]. Today was move-in day. Someone snapped a pic of me and posted it on the campus confession wall. I went viral. The next day during freshman orientation, lots of people came to see me. Including Chase. He stood in front of me holding a massive bouquet of red roses and three hard-to-find Labubu dolls. He went straight for it: “Hi, Maya Lin. I’m Chase from CS, junior year. It was love at first sight. Will you be my girlfriend?” I looked up at Chase carefully. Honestly, he was even hotter than his photos. Under his black tee, the outline of his abs was visible. Muscles on his arms bulged, veins popping. Sexual tension off the charts. The crowd started chanting: “Say yes! Say yes! This is Chase, the CS god, the face of our school! Usually girls chase him!” “Never thought I’d see Chase simp in my lifetime. He’s usually so cold and abstinent, I thought he was wasting his genes.” Chase was a flirt online. Nothing abstinent about him. I laughed at the crowd’s stupidity. Chase mistook it for approval. He smiled, confident of victory. “Sorry, I don’t want to date you.” Chase’s smile froze. The crowd went silent. Awkward. “Why?” Because you dumped me last night and introduced me to a high-quality prospect. But I won’t say it. I’ll wait for him to figure it out. We met in a game. He liked my voice, I liked his face. To spend time with him, I pretended to be dumb so I could pester him for tutoring. He was patient, taught me math, and Venmo’d me money often. Total boyfriend material. Who knew he’d cheat right before we met? Since I wasn’t that invested, I won’t call him a scumbag. “I have someone I’m interested in.” “So you’re not dating yet? Give me a chance to pursue you? I’ll treat you better than that guy.” “No, not interested.” Chase looked embarrassed. Someone in the crowd gasped in disbelief. “But I only want you. I won’t give up. Take these gifts.” Those Labubus were cute. But I didn’t want to be entangled with Chase. I shook my head. Chase tried to force them on me. “If you don’t take them, I’m throwing them in the trash.” “Throw them then.” Don’t know if he did. I linked arms with my roommate, Tina, and walked away without looking back. Tina: “You’re savage. Rejecting Chase in public.” “It’s fine. Use him to scare off the other guys, so not every Tom, Dick, and Harry comes at me.” “True. The confession wall says half the guys on campus want to confess to you.” Speaking of which, I remembered Liam. I accepted his request and agreed to dinner. 3 At the restaurant. Liam sat by the window. When I sat opposite him, his eyes lit up, then he froze. I smiled at him. “I’m the girlfriend Chase set you up with, Babe.” “Curious why I don’t look like the photo?” Liam hummed a “Yes,” his voice deep and pleasant. Seeing me stare at him, his ears turned bright red. He drank water to hide his shyness and nerves. I was shocked. And conflicted. Didn’t expect such an innocent boy in this day and age. I kinda didn’t want to date him anymore. Since I’m here for a good time, not a long time. But he’s hot. And his lips look so red and soft, very kissable. Sigh. I’ll let him choose. “So, do you want to date me, or the girl in the photo?” “If it’s the girl in the photo, I can introduce you.” “You.” Liam didn’t hesitate. Can’t blame me then. He might not be serious about me either. Or like Chase, serious for a bit then change his mind. So whatever, carpe diem. “Chase said you’re 8.5 inches. Is that true?” “I’m not talking about shoe size.” I was blunt. Liam stiffened. Turned beet red. Couldn’t speak for a long time. I frowned. “No? If not, I’m out.” Liam looked around, then whispered, “Yes.” “Can I see?” “N-now?” “No, after we eat.” Liam nodded, blushing harder. He handed me the menu. Seeing it was my first time here, he carefully recommended the specialties. Mid-meal, Chase called Liam. It was loud; I heard everything. Chase: “Met Babe?” Liam: “Yeah.” “Didn’t lie, did I? Pretty, right?” “Yeah.” “Treat her well. Spend all your free time with her so she doesn’t think about me. Maya is harder to chase than I thought. I need to focus on strategizing, can’t deal with Babe.” “Okay.” “Thanks man. Lucky to have you. Dinner on me tomorrow.” “No need. Eating now. Bye.” “Okay.” Liam put down the phone. I suddenly realized something. “Do you know my name?” Liam paused for a few seconds. “No.” “I’m…” “Sorry.” Liam interrupted me suddenly. “I need to use the restroom.” He walked fast. Like he really had to go. I kept eating. When Liam came back, I forgot to tell him my name. Leaving the restaurant, Liam suggested getting a hotel room. Me!! 4 Did I misjudge him? He’s this open? Liam seemed to read my mind and explained frantically: “Don’t misunderstand. Not for sex.” “You can inspect the goods first. I didn’t lie. I want you to feel secure being my girlfriend.” Oh. But I haven’t seen that before. Suddenly seeing it would be awkward. “Maybe later? Getting a room just for that is a waste of money.” “If it makes you feel secure, it’s not a waste. And I’m rich.” Liam insisted. I felt like he was just too innocent. And considerate. I agreed. Afterward. Liam, face flushed, looked at me, face flushed. “I’m very traditional.” “I showed you my most important thing. No matter what happens, you can’t break up with me.” My brain was just… how is it so… Will using it actually feel good…? I didn’t hear a word Liam said, just mumbled “Okay.” Liam was happy. Took me back to campus. Near the dorms, seeing couples making out, I stopped and asked Liam, “Can I kiss you?” “Yes.” Liam, ears red, cupped my face and kissed me gently. Then pulled away fast. He seemed nervous. Fingers trembling slightly. So cute. And his lips were sweet and soft. A light touch wasn’t enough to satisfy my craving. “Can we kiss longer? Harder?” “I’ll try. But it’s my first time. Tell me if it hurts.” “Mhm.” Liam kissed me again. Better this time. But no tongue. Just as I tried to pry his teeth open… Chase’s shocked voice came from behind. “Liam! Babe?” We both froze. Liam pulled me into his arms, burying my face in his chest. Hand caressing my face, seemingly hiding me on purpose. But I didn’t have time to overthink. My mind was hijacked by his heart pounding like a drum. Just a kiss and his heart is going crazy. If we… I was lost in dirty thoughts. Chase walked over, sounding happy: “You brought Babe to campus to hang out?” Uhh. Guess Chase didn’t think a “bad student” like me could get into this school. Liam’s voice was cold: “Why are you here?” “Dropping stuff off for Maya.” “Congrats, you guys got together fast.” Liam gave a very faint “Mhm.” Chase looked at my back and laughed: “Babe, burying your face in Liam’s chest? Shy because I saw you kissing? Not gonna say hi?” I wasn’t shy. And I should say hi. So I mischievously turned around and smiled at Chase.

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My arranged fiancé is the most notorious playboy in the city’s elite circle. He’s told me multiple times, “I’m not done having fun. There’s no way I’m going through with this engagement.” “Give up.” He refused to meet me, didn’t even know what I looked like. That is, until I went to find him to call it off. But the moment he saw me, he froze, turning to his friend and saying: “Bro, I think I’m about to have a wife.” I handed the engagement ring back to him. “No, you’re about to lose one.” 1 After messaging Julian countless times with zero response, I decided to track him down. His schedule was easy to find—if he wasn’t at a club, he was at a karaoke bar or some other party spot. Sure enough, I heard he’d be at The Velvet Room tonight. I hate clubs, but I gritted my teeth and went. I’ve been a “good girl” my whole life—quiet, introverted. I could count on one hand the number of times I’d been to a place like this. Before walking in, I hyped myself up. I found a seat at the bar, ordered a virgin mojito, and casually scanned the room for Julian. He wasn’t there yet. He’s always the center of attention; if he were here, it would feel like a spotlight was shining on him. Since I couldn’t find him, I opened our chat history. My last message was from yesterday: [It’s really hot lately, remember sunscreen.] No reply. Scrolling up, it was just me talking to myself: [The sunset is beautiful today.] [I heard the zoo has capybaras now, they’re so cute. Want to go?] [A new restaurant opened, the food looks amazing.] [Okay, guess you’re busy. Goodnight.] [My mom took me ring shopping today. I picked one for ages. Do you like it?] Julian only replied when I mentioned the engagement, and it was never nice: [Wendy, stop embarrassing yourself.] [I told you, I don’t want this engagement.] [I’m not done playing. I’m not settling down.] I pretended not to see those messages. It’s not that I wasn’t hurt. I just felt like we deserved better than this. He hadn’t even met me, hadn’t spent a second with me. Every time I asked to meet and talk properly, he refused, saying, “No need.” He didn’t care what I looked like. He just didn’t want to marry me. 2 Julian said he wasn’t done playing the field and didn’t want to be tied down. I understood that. That’s why I wanted a chance—just one chance to hang out. I hadn’t dared to find him before because, one, I’m shy, and two, I was scared he’d hate me for it. So coming here tonight took everything I had. The club was loud and dark. I endured the discomfort, waiting for Julian. Suddenly, a commotion near the entrance. I looked over and there he was. Simple dress shirt, top buttons undone, leaning lazily back into a booth. Surrounded by gorgeous girls smiling at him. Seeing him, I hesitated. Someone like Julian really doesn’t seem like the marrying type. Rich kid, spoiled from birth, a master of the nightlife. He walked through a garden of flowers but never picked a single leaf. I started doubting myself. Was my persistence meaningless? Even though I came here to find him, seeing him in his element made me want to shrink away. I decided to watch for a bit before making a move. I wasn’t far from his table, but the corner was dark and my hat was pulled low, so I felt hidden. Halfway through my drink, amidst the thumping bass, I heard my name. Someone mentioned me: “Hey, Julian, what’s up with the engagement? Still happening?” Julian frowned. “Don’t ask. I don’t know what potion she fed my parents, but they won’t let me call it off.” “I think your parents have good taste!” someone piped up. “I think Wendy is really pretty! Why don’t you just meet her?” Before Julian could speak, someone else cut in: “Oh please, pretty is useless! Look at all the girls chasing Julian over the years—gorgeous, perfect, and he rejected every single one. He’s picky.” “Yeah, who knows who can finally tame him.” Julian scoffed. “Nobody can. Forget it. I’m used to freedom; I can’t stand being tied down.” “Alright then. Let me know when you break it off, I’ll ask my mom to propose for me. I actually like Wendy.” “Sure,” Julian said, taking a sip of his drink, completely indifferent. “I’ll let you know.” His tone was casual, as if I were a toy he could just pass along. My heart felt like it was being squeezed. I couldn’t stay any longer. Using the crowd as cover, I ran out of the club. I found a bench in a nearby park, tears streaming down my face as I opened our chat. I had once texted him: [Can we meet and talk, please?] He replied: [Unless it’s to call off the engagement, no.] I wiped my blurry screen and typed again: [Are you free next week? Can we talk?] After a while, he replied: [Didn’t I tell you? Unless it’s to call off the engagement, no.] I sniffled, finally making up my mind. [Yeah. It’s to call off the engagement.] 3 I never expected that the first time I successfully asked Julian out would be to break up. When my mom told me the Thorne family asked about the engagement, I was so happy I couldn’t sleep. I thought he agreed to it. Later, I found out his parents set it up without asking him. So I accepted his resistance. It wasn’t his fault. I wanted him to give me a chance, but I forgot—with so many better options around him, why would he choose me? He didn’t want the engagement, didn’t want to see me. That’s fair. It’s just that this one-sided emotional drain was exhausting. He did nothing wrong. Maybe we just weren’t meant to be. I didn’t want to keep pushing. I’ve liked him for so long, it’s time to move on. We agreed to meet next week at a new coffee shop. The weather had been perfect all week, but on the day of, it started pouring. Although the rain stopped, puddles were everywhere. I set the GPS wrong and ended up near the shop but not at it. The driver didn’t know where to go, so I got out to walk the rest of the way. Just as I was getting close, a supercar zoomed past me, splashing through a massive puddle. I was soaked in muddy water. I looked down at the stains on my white dress and sighed. I wore my favorite dress for this. Even if it was the end, I wanted to end it looking good. Who knew… I took out a tissue, bent down, and started wiping the mud, thinking: Guess we really aren’t meant to be. Suddenly, someone stopped in front of me. “Sorry, my friend wasn’t looking. He splashed you.” Hearing that lazy voice, I froze. I didn’t dare stand up. He continued, “He’s parking. I’ll make him pay for your dress.” My hand clutching the tissue was sweating. I felt like I couldn’t breathe. Seeing me frozen and weird, he asked, “You okay?” I took three deep breaths before slowly straightening up. Seeing his face, I thought: Of course it’s him. So, looking like a drowned rat, I met Julian Thorne. Still that dangerously handsome face, tall build blocking my view, forcing me to only see him. But Julian seemed to freeze too. He stopped talking, his gaze burning as it met mine. I held his gaze for less than ten seconds before losing my nerve and looking away. But I could still feel his eyes on me. The atmosphere got weirdly awkward. I wondered: Did he recognize me? Then he asked, word by word: “Can I get your number?” I was silent. He definitely didn’t recognize me. He explained, “To pay you for the dress.” I shook my head. “No need.” I didn’t want to keep standing there, so I turned to enter the coffee shop. But Julian grabbed my arm. I looked back at him in surprise. He seemed shocked by his own action too, quickly letting go and pulling out his phone. “Just add me.” I didn’t know how to tell him he was already in my contacts. “Holy sh*t, Julian, what are you doing!” I looked over to see another tall, handsome guy walking over, looking shocked. I knew him. Julian’s best friend, Ben. They were too conspicuous. I was anxious to go inside and afraid Julian would grab me again, so I pointed at the shop. “Inside.” He clearly didn’t get what I meant, but nodded. I walked in. Behind me, Ben’s voice drifted over: “Dude, Julian, are you possessed? You never ask girls for their number!” “Look at your eyes, you look like you want to eat her.” “Something is wrong. Very wrong.” Julian’s voice was faint: “You know nothing.” “I think I’m about to have a wife.” 4 “You already have one,” Ben teased. “That fiancée of yours.” Julian told him to get lost. “Not her.” The coffee shop was new and trendy, lots of girls taking photos. Julian and Ben looked around. Ben asked, “Which one is your fiancée?” “Who knows?” Julian frowned, then tapped something on his phone. My screen lit up. Message from Julian: [I’m here.] I looked up and saw them walking toward me. Before I could confess, Julian made Ben apologize. “Apologize. Your driving sucks.” “You have the nerve to blame me?” Ben retorted. “You’re the one who said we should celebrate getting out of the engagement and made me drive you.” But after bickering, he apologized sincerely: “So sorry! Drove too fast, didn’t see you. How much was the dress? I’ll pay.” “It’s fine,” I said. “Really.” After apologizing, Ben kept staring at me, thinking. Julian noticed. “What are you looking at?” Ben ignored him and asked me, “Sister, have we met somewhere?” We had. “What do you mean?” Julian’s face darkened. “Hitting on girls in front of me?” “Screw you, I’m not that guy!” Ben lowered his voice. “I wouldn’t steal your girl.” “Then what did you mean?” “I’m not a creep using pick-up lines! She really looks familiar! No other meaning!” They went back and forth like a comedy duo. I interrupted. “Um…” They stopped and looked at me. “Let’s talk business.” Ben was confused. “What business?” I sighed, picked up my phone, and called Julian. Julian’s phone buzzed. He picked it up. Ben peeked at the screen. “Who is it? No name saved.” I stiffened. Even after deciding to end it, that stung. He hadn’t even saved my number. Ben realized. “Ah! Is it Wendy?” Hearing my name, Julian’s face soured again. He scanned the shop again, looking for me, and answered, “Hello.” My voice on the phone overlapped with my voice in front of him. “Julian.” I looked at him. “It’s me. Wendy.” I don’t know if Julian heard the echo. He froze. Ben’s jaw dropped. Julian turned stiffly to look at me, holding the phone. “Wendy?” No point staying on the line. I hung up. “Sigh.” The air seemed to solidify between us. Ben reacted first. “Holy sh*t, Julian, that really is your wife.” “No.” I took the ring box out of my bag. “Not for much longer.” When his mom took me shopping, I spent so long picking it out, full of joy. I never wore it, but I kept it on my nightstand, hoping one day he’d accept me and I could put it on. Guess that day isn’t coming. I handed him the box. “Julian, here’s the ring back.” “I agree to call off the engagement.” “Sorry for bothering you before.” Julian stared at me, not taking the box. After a long while, he stammered, “Wendy, I didn’t know…” I smiled bitterly. “It’s okay.” “Don’t give it back yet.” He refused to take it. “My brain is a mess. Wait a minute.” “I don’t want to wait.” I put the box on the table and pushed it toward him. “I’m leaving.” “Wendy.” Julian grabbed my wrist for the second time today. “I’ll drive you.” I peeled his fingers off, one by one. “No thanks. I’ll walk.”

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I’ve been Julian’s shadow since we were kids. The moment I graduated, I married him. Julian, the beautiful boy with autism. Even after marriage, we were practically strangers. He barely spoke to me. A stream of floating text—livestream comments from another dimension—scrolled across my vision: [Don’t worry, he just doesn’t want to talk to the Side Character. Wait until the Female Lead shows up, he’ll be chatting up a storm.] At first, I didn’t believe it. Until the night of the Truth or Dare game. A girl drew a card: “Spend the night with a man here.” She closed her eyes and spread a rumor: “I pick Julian. He’s good for eight rounds a night. Looks innocent, but he’s into everything. I’ve tried him.” Julian’s face went red, then white. For the first time in his life, he spoke up voluntarily: “Liar… You haven’t tried.” 1 “Liar… You haven’t tried.” I froze. I never expected Julian, the boy who lived in silence, to speak up on his own. The floating comments went wild: [LMAO Chatterbox Baby has skills! She provoked the autistic Male Lead into speaking!] [Look at Maya, her eyes are popping out.] [So sad. The Male Lead never spoke to her first. Can’t help it, her personality is just unlikeable.] [Yeah, she’s nothing like our Sunshine Girl Female Lead.] Chloe, the “Sunshine Girl,” looked at me smugly. “Everyone says Julian is autistic and hates talking. “But look, it’s not that hard to make him speak. Maya, why can’t you do it? “Oh, I know. It must be because you’re too boring. Hahaha. “Julian, don’t you think being with me is way better than being with a wooden block like Maya?” I stood there, feeling like I’d been slapped. Shame burned from my cheeks to my ears. This party was Julian’s mother’s idea. Mrs. Thorne told me to organize it so Julian could socialize. It was supposed to be good for his condition. Everyone here knew about my situation with Julian. The crowd started jeering: “Chloe, if you can make him say one more sentence, we’ll each give you a hundred bucks.” “Deal.” Chloe grinned at Julian. “Julian, you’re 6’2″, right?” A boring question. Julian remained silent, as usual. But then, Chloe laughed. “Do you know the root formula? It’s (Height – 105) x 0.618 / 3.14. So, you’re packing 6.3 inches down there?” Julian understood. His face turned beet red, forced to speak again: “No…” Chloe knew what he wanted to say. But she teased him on purpose: “No what? Not enough? More?” Julian’s ears were burning. “Don’t do that.” Chloe laughed so hard she shook. “What a good boy. Holding it in all this time just to say ‘Don’t do that.’ “I can’t take it, you’re too cute. “Hey, pay up! I won!” The others paid up, laughing. The comments flooded my vision: [Baby is a genius! What kind of math is that?!] [I’m dying, how does her brain work?] [LOL look at Maya. After all these years, Julian hasn’t said a full sentence to her.] [Honestly, Julian probably said more to Chloe in five minutes than he’s said to Maya in a decade.] [Maya is sitting there like a background NPC. Julian won’t even look at her. If I were her, I’d dig a hole and die of embarrassment.] [Comparison is the thief of joy. Look how lively Julian is with Chloe!] I bit my lip, emotions churning inside me. Chloe leaned on the table, eyes curving as she smiled at Julian. “Hey, you’re really handsome. God-tier visuals. Even the top idols aren’t as good-looking as you. “And your voice is amazing. You really should talk more. “Say something else. Come on.” But Julian had retreated into his shell again. Chloe leaned in closer, whispering loudly. “With a voice like that, you must sound so hot when you moan in bed. “Tell me, have you slept with Maya?” Julian, who never spoke, surprisingly answered her. “No.” “Don’t like.” I was stunned. Chloe burst out laughing. “You guys have been together forever and you haven’t slept with her? “He says he doesn’t like you! Hahaha! Maya, how annoying are you really?” She found Julian more and more interesting, finding new topics. “By the way Julian, has Maya ever tried to seduce you? Does she wear lingerie for you? Does she go commando…” I couldn’t take it anymore. I stood up abruptly, drawing everyone’s gaze. “This is our private life. I don’t think you have the right to ask, Miss Chloe.” The happy atmosphere instantly froze. Chloe blinked, surprised by my outburst. Then she stuck out her tongue, unbothered. “It’s just a joke, why are you so fierce? “Are you jealous because Julian talked to me? “Oh well, it’s a skill issue. Just because you can’t do it doesn’t mean others can’t. “Making a mountain out of a molehill. No wonder Julian won’t talk to you.” The comments started again: [What the hell? Ruining the vibe with one sentence.] [Yeah, Julian finally spoke, she’s just jealous.] [Understandable, boring people tend to be buzzkills.] [It was just a joke, petty woman.] [It’s okay! Chloe is the FL, the Male Lead will protect her unconditionally.] I didn’t let Chloe gaslight me. I enunciated clearly: “A joke is only a joke if the person involved finds it funny. I don’t find it funny at all. “And I don’t think sexual harassment counts as a joke.” With every word, Chloe’s face fell further. Finally, she lowered her head, eyes misting up. “Julian, your wife doesn’t seem to like me talking to you. “Maybe I shouldn’t talk to you anymore.” I wanted to say more. But the next second, Julian grabbed my hand. His grip was unintentionally hard. “Don’t. Be mean to her.” His voice grew colder. “You. Apologize.” My heart gave a sudden, sharp throb. I came to the Thorne house when I was thirteen. I took care of him cautiously for twelve years. This was the first time he voluntarily spoke a complete sentence to me. And it was to defend a stranger he just met. 2 After all these years, Julian was still like a child—no control over his strength. My wrist turned red fast. I said softly, “Julian, you’re hurting me.” He froze, then let go slowly, realizing what he did. I tried to reason with him like he was a kid. “She said disrespectful things to me. That’s why I argued.” But Julian didn’t listen. “But you made her unhappy. “Why do you always make people unhappy?” I stood there, frozen. My mother was the Thorne family’s nanny. After my father died, I was brought to the Thorne estate. Mrs. Thorne was surprisingly welcoming. She held my hand and said, “The doctor says Julian needs to interact with kids his age. Take good care of him.” My mom told me to seize the opportunity. To get along with Julian. I became responsible for his daily life. Mrs. Thorne often praised me for being gentle and attentive. But Julian hated me. The first time I saw him, he stood at the top of the stairs in a white shirt, staring at me with empty black eyes. He was the most beautiful boy I had ever seen. Lips pressed into a thin line, clean and quiet. I was mesmerized. I didn’t know then that I would hear “No” from those beautiful lips so many times. No entering his room. No touching his things. He liked silence. So no noise. No laughing. I used to be a lively girl. My teachers said I had ADHD because I couldn’t sit still. I’d chat with stray dogs on the street. When we first met, I fearlessly offered him my favorite doll. “You’re so pretty. You’d be even prettier if you smiled. Here, this is my favorite thing. For you.” He slapped the doll to the floor. He said, one word at a time: “Don’t smile. Looks. Disgusting.” People with autism don’t consider other people’s feelings. When they dislike someone, the malice is direct and unfiltered. I stood there, too scared to pick up my doll, unable to speak. I didn’t understand why he hated me so much. Every time Julian was mean to me, my mom would come into my room at night and slap me across the face. “Why can’t you be more obedient? More sensible? “Why did you upset Young Master Julian again? “Why can’t you talk less and do more?” It hurt. I was afraid of pain. So I listened to her. I learned to be steady, to be silent. I shrank myself until I was invisible. To take better care of Julian, I followed him from elementary school to college. I carried his backpack. I highlighted the hard questions in his homework. I poured the warm water for his morning meds. They all said I was Julian’s little maid. Julian didn’t like to talk. Once after school, he left without me. When I caught up, a group of boys had him cornered. “Mute. Can you speak? “Do you think you’re better than us?” Someone was about to dump a bottle of water on his head. Julian closed his eyes, bracing for impact. But the water didn’t hit him. He opened his eyes and saw me standing in front of him. The heavy bottle hit my head with a dull thud. My forehead swelled up instantly. Later, when the maid was cleaning my wound, Julian asked, “Does it hurt?” I shook my head. “No.” He nodded, believing me, and went upstairs. It would be a lie to say I wasn’t heartbroken. I thought his heart was frozen solid. But one day. I was taking notes for Julian in class. A classmate snickered at me. “Come here, little maid. “We’re Julian’s friends, so you should serve us too. “Do our homework.” I didn’t want trouble. I didn’t want to cause issues for Julian. I was about to get up. But Julian grabbed my hand. “She is not a maid. “Don’t bully her.” I was stunned. That day, I was so happy. I thought maybe I was becoming special to him. Maybe if I tried harder, he would accept me. But now he asked me. Why do I always make people unhappy? Suddenly, I felt tired. So tired. A deep sense of powerlessness washed over me. 3 The party ended badly. I thought it was over. But the next day, Julian brought Chloe home. He took her into his art studio. His sanctuary. They say autistic people have genius talents. Julian was a prodigy artist. His paintings sold for fortunes. To stay in school with him, I gave up music, which I loved, and chose art, trapping myself in a world of shapes and colors I didn’t understand. Julian hated my lack of talent. He’d poke my forehead and call me stupid. But Chloe didn’t like painting either. She constantly interrupted him. “Your room is huge. Speaking of huge, your…” “You’ve been painting a long time. Speaking of long…” “Why won’t you look at me? Your world is only yourself. Speaking of self…” The comments were laughing: [Hahaha, this meme never gets old.] [Am I the only one who thinks this is vulgar? Respect yourself.] [Upstairs, stop pretending to be pure.] [Chatterbox Baby is so talkative, so lovable.] Julian hated interruptions when he painted. Before, if I walked in softly to remind him to take his meds, he’d knock the pills over, eyes red, pushing me out. “Get out! Out!” But. But now. He said he hated noise, yet he tolerated the noisy Chloe. He didn’t get mad. He just sat there, painting quietly. Chloe yawned. “Boring. I want to go home.” Julian finally stepped out of his world. “Painting. Is fun. “I’ll hold your hand to paint. Don’t go, okay?” Chloe said, “No. Boring.” Julian thought for a moment. “Then I won’t paint. You stay.” This was the first time I saw Julian compromise. Clumsily learning to please someone else. Even Mrs. Thorne said, “I’ve never seen Julian so gentle with a girl.” It was time for his meds. She reminded me to take them to him. I obediently brought the tray in. “Time for medicine.” Julian hated taking medicine. So he hated me, the messenger. But he didn’t know I hated it too. Every time was a battle. Coaxing, pleading. When he was unhappy, he’d swat the bowl away. Hot water splashed on my hands, burning me. Sometimes he’d grab my wrist and twist until bruises formed. He fought like a bull, knocking my elbows into table corners. It was just a pill. But he acted like it was poison. And I always suffered for it. Predictably, it didn’t go well. He glared at me. “If you don’t apologize, I won’t take it.” He still remembered yesterday. I used my trump card. “If you don’t, I’ll tell Mrs. Thorne.” He was afraid of his mother. He hesitated. But before I could relax, he exploded. He shoved my hand away so hard I stumbled. “Go away! You’re a parasite! I hate you! “If you force me again, I’ll divorce you!” I froze. “Who taught you that?” He said, “Chloe said you eat my family’s food, wear my family’s clothes, live in my family’s house. You’re a parasite. I can divorce you if I want. “You have no right to order me around.” The comments: [Hahaha, this kid is so honest.] [True though, she is a parasite.] [Our Baby is smart. Julian said he didn’t want meds, Chloe told him to threaten the bad woman with divorce.] I stared at the scrolling text, throat tight. He really was obedient. He listened to whatever Chloe said. I just wanted him to take his meds. To get better. Why did I become the villain? My nose stung. Eyes burned. The grievances I hid for so long surged up, blocking my chest. Twelve years. No matter what I did, it was never enough. Suddenly, I didn’t want to be the bad guy anymore. I didn’t want to force him. Didn’t want to watch him hate me. Didn’t want to guard this empty life anymore. Leave. The thought popped up, and the heavy weight in my heart lightened. Seeing me silent, Julian thought the threat worked. His tone softened. “Apologize obediently, and I’ll take the meds. No divorce.” I refused. He frowned. “Is apologizing that hard?” I said, “Yes. It is.” Maybe if I acted like before, coaxing him like a child, indulging his whims. Maybe if I lowered my head and soothed him, Julian would forget today. He would take his meds. But my heart felt like it was sinking into ice water. Tired. Really tired. Twelve years is long enough. Who can stand on tiptoes for a lifetime to accommodate someone else? I took a deep breath and used all my strength to say: “Fine. “Since you want a divorce, let’s divorce.” He didn’t expect that reaction. He froze. “W-what did you say?” 4 I repeated it. “You want a divorce, right? I agree.” Julian didn’t speak for a long time. He stared at me blankly, like his brain short-circuited. According to Chloe, I should be terrified. Divorce meant losing my luxurious life. It meant twelve years of effort wasted. So I should be begging, pampering, yielding. Apologizing to Chloe. But sunk costs shouldn’t dictate future decisions. His temper flared again. Julian pushed me out the door, avoiding the issue. “Go away. I don’t want to talk to you. “I’m going to paint.” He was always this willful. Tragically, I was used to it. I knew not to fight him when he was emotional. I stepped back, voice soft. “Okay. “Paint. I’ll come back later.” 5 After being shoved out, I wandered aimlessly around the villa. I looked at the place I lived for twelve years. Every blade of grass. Thinking of the bits and pieces of accompanying Julian. I realized I didn’t have much attachment. I wandered for a long time. Cutting through the garden to leave, I heard whispers from the gazebo. Chloe and Julian. Julian asked, “Why does Maya always control me?” Chloe said nonchalantly, “Simple. Divorce her for real, and she won’t dare to act up.” Julian was silent, then asked, “What does divorce mean?” Chloe was stunned. “You don’t know? “You have a certificate, so you’re legally husband and wife. “It means you can live together openly. Legal cohabitation. “Sleeping in the same bed, doing couple things, it’s all allowed. “As your wife, she manages your life, even restricts who you see. That’s common in marriages. “Divorce means she has nothing to do with you. She can’t live here, can’t manage you, won’t appear in front of you. You’ll be totally free.” Julian had no reaction until the last sentence. His eyes widened slowly. “She won’t live in my house?” Chloe said, “Of course not.” Julian paused. “I don’t want a divorce.” Chloe didn’t understand. “Why? You hate her.” Julian pursed his lips. “Because I… don’t want not to see her.” My fingers trembled. My heart moved slightly. But then he said: “She has to take care of me forever. No one else can. I only want her.” Chloe laughed. “What? I can take care of you too.” Julian shook his head. “No.” Chloe asked, “Why not?” Julian said, “You’re different. You’re fun. “You play with me. She can’t do that. “She’s used to taking care of people. I’m only used to her doing it.” I froze. Then I smiled bitterly. Even in his mind, my value was graded. Chloe was the fun playmate. I was just the servant. The tiny spark of hope that maybe he cared about me was extinguished instantly. Chloe continued persuading him. “But if you don’t, she’ll control you forever. “Don’t you hate that?” Julian looked at her blankly. “What should I do?” Chloe smiled. “I’ve seen women like her. “Vanity. Mooching off your family since childhood. Wanting your money. She won’t leave. “I have a way to deal with gold diggers. “Just pretend to divorce her. Once is enough. She’ll learn her lesson. She’ll beg you like a dog to take her back and never dare control you again.” The comments were cheering: [Wow, Baby is so smart!] [Exactly. Someone like Maya needs to be taught a lesson, or she’ll think she owns the place.] I ignored the malicious text. I held my breath, waiting for Julian’s answer. He thought seriously for a moment. Then he nodded earnestly. “Okay, I’ll try.” In that moment, my heart skipped a beat. Yeah. It’s okay, Maya. Isn’t this expected? I didn’t want to listen anymore. I didn’t want to care. I quietly walked away.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “387158”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel