Last life, my best friend gave me a longevity lock, a beautiful gold charm. Little did I know, once I put it on, it couldn’t be taken off. And then, I had a fever for seven straight days. When I finally recovered, bad luck haunted my every step. That’s when I found out: my life of fortune had been swapped with her husband’s fate of an early death. From then on, they lived a blissful life where money seemed to roll in effortlessly, while I was left broke, struggling, and unlucky in everything. I barely lived to thirty before I was hit by a car and died in an accident. As I lay dying, my older brother, Tyler, who suffered from XYY syndrome, let out a heart-wrenching cry and tried to shield me. But it was no use. We both died that day. Reborn, I opened my eyes to find myself back at the moment she was about to give me that longevity lock. A cold smile touched my lips. If she wanted my prosperous life so badly, then I’d give her a husband with XYY syndrome. “Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you!” The dorm door burst open with a bang, and my best friend, Brittany Hayes, walked in, holding a cake with lit candles. That’s when my other roommates, Chloe and Ashley, realized it was my birthday. “Oh my God, Brittany, you’re so thoughtful!” Chloe exclaimed. “Cassidy, I’m so jealous you have a best friend like her,” Ashley added. … Brittany suppressed a smug grin, pretending to be bashful. “Oh, it’s nothing, isn’t it just what best friends do for Cassidy?” She handed me a gift box and told me to open it to see if I liked it. Inside was a golden longevity lock. Everyone gasped in awe. “Wow, that must’ve cost a fortune!” In my last life, I was first thrilled that Brittany remembered my birthday, and then utterly moved by such an expensive gift. But I had no clue that this lock was a cursed charm! Once it was on, it would swap my life with her boyfriend’s! Back then, I suffered from a high fever for a whole week, with no warning, no reason. Doctors were stumped. But once I got better, my luck turned sour. I became impoverished, couldn’t even afford food. Meanwhile, her boyfriend started living the good life, with money literally falling into his laps, winning the lottery left and right. I only lived ten more years after that before a car crash ended my life. When I died, a fortune teller who had once read my future happened to pass by. He said my life was destined for immense prosperity and boundless wealth. How could it have ended so miserably? It was then I realized: my fate, from the moment she placed that lock on me when I was twenty, had been swapped! Now, in front of me, Brittany’s eyes flickered with a ruthless smile, but she gently took out the lock. “Cassidy, let me help you put it on.” “I picked this gift out for so long; it’ll definitely suit you.” My heart seized. This lock had been custom-made. If I put it on, I wouldn’t be able to take it off for the rest of my life!

I quickly stepped back, dodging her. She paused, then her face crumbled into a look of hurt. “Don’t you like my gift?” “But I saved up my allowance for half a year, penny by penny.” “Never mind. I guess I’m just not someone people like, and my gifts are trash, always getting rejected.” Hearing this, my roommates immediately felt sorry for her and started scolding me. “Cassidy, this is her heartfelt gesture! How cold-blooded are you to ignore her feelings?!” Chloe cried. “I totally misjudged you! Fine, then we won’t give you presents either.” Ashley chimed in. … I could only say that I appreciated her intention and accepted the gift, but I already had a necklace on. Brittany’s eyes welled up. “Mine is more expensive than yours. Doesn’t it deserve to be around your neck?” Just then, my brother Tyler’s gruff voice boomed from downstairs. “Sis! C-come down!” I suddenly remembered that my family had planned to take me out for a dinner party tonight to celebrate my twenty-second birthday. I used it as an excuse to slip away downstairs. But Brittany followed, grabbing my arm. “Cassidy, just try it on! You’ll definitely love it!” Even though I’d already accepted it, she wouldn’t give up until she’d put it around my neck. Tyler’s eyes widened, and he abruptly shoved Brittany away. “She said she doesn’t want to wear it! Stop bothering her!” Brittany was startled, standing rooted to the spot. I quickly made an excuse that we had to go and pulled my brother away. But I never expected that same night, she’d post my brother on the campus gossip page. The accompanying picture, taken by a passerby, showed her face full of panic when my brother pushed her away. “I was just kindly giving a gift, but her brother yelled at me. Was I really in the wrong?” Below, several comments were clearly instigating trouble. “That guy has XYY Syndrome; there’s something wrong with his head. That girl is sweet and kind; her best friend should stay away from her.” “Isn’t that the Miller guy… honestly, every time I see her brother, he looks terrifying.” “Why are XYY people even alive? They should just be snuffed out!” … The post’s popularity soared, clearly boosted by paid promotion. Hundreds of comments piled up instantly, all attacking me and my brother. I clicked on a few and realized they were Brittany’s alt accounts. And the third comment, the one advocating for strangling XYY people, was from Brittany’s boyfriend, Jason. I trembled with rage. During my mother’s prenatal check-ups, nothing had shown up. It was too late when Tyler was born with XYY Syndrome. Even with all the challenges of his condition, our family had never given up on him. But now, manipulated by Brittany and her boyfriend, he was subjected to this kind of online abuse. I looked at that life-swapping longevity lock and a thought, sudden and chilling, began to form.

But I didn’t know if this thought was right or wrong. Did I really have the right to decide someone else’s life? My brother Tyler sat on the sofa, eyes vacant, drooling. His eyes were wide-set, his pupils small, making him look somewhat unsettling at first glance. For so many years, our family hardly dared to let him out alone. If we could, we would have kept him on a leash. Mom had even quit her job to be by his side constantly. I suddenly hesitated, murmuring, “Is this really the right thing to do?” “If I give Jason Reed’s life to you, you’ll become normal, but you’re also destined not to live past 35…” “But if things stay as they are, when you get older…” In my last life, my brother remained XYY syndrome-affected and intellectually disabled his entire life. He was cursed at every time he went out. Later, he would tremble when he met strangers and would lock himself in his room, hurting himself when he was upset. Jason Reed’s fate, though not bringing wealth, was destined for a peaceful life. Now facing such a choice, I was at a loss. Suddenly, Tyler stammered, “G-good, Sis…” I froze, realizing he was actually responding to me. Tears streamed down my face in an instant. My brother, trapped in that body, must have been suffering even more than I imagined. And so, I solemnly placed that longevity lock on him. As graduation approached, Brittany and Jason had secretly gotten their marriage license because Brittany didn’t want to spend money on a wedding reception. Two years ago, when Brittany and I went to a temple to pray, we coincidentally met a fortune teller. After analyzing our birth details, he marvelled at my fate, saying I was destined for wealth, and after graduation, I would enjoy thirty years of immense fortune. Money, both legitimate and windfalls, would pour in; I’d be swimming in cash without lifting a finger. At the time, Brittany didn’t believe him, but over the next two years, everything the fortune teller predicted for me came true. So, she must have coveted my fate for a long time. In my last life, she took my prosperity, enjoyed a lifetime of luxury, and caused my early death. This life, it was time for her to pay the price. I’d give her a husband with XYY syndrome, and we’d see if she could handle it! I went to a jewelry store and picked out an identical longevity lock to wear myself. That way, those people couldn’t say anything. Brittany happily took a photo with me and posted it on Ins, with a caption hinting at something else: “Bringing fortune home.” And Jason commented below: “Honey, wait till I get rich and take care of you (thumbs up).” She replied: “Okay, hubby (tongue out).” I was very much looking forward to seeing how they would get rich.

Just when I thought everything was going smoothly, I started experiencing the same symptoms as in my last life. A persistent high fever, a hoarse throat, and I was bedridden. How could this be!? I grew more worried each day. Because fate is a fickle thing. If my destiny truly included windfalls, then even if I tripped and fell outside, I’d somehow stumble over gold necklaces! But if I had still swapped lives with Jason this time, what was the point of my rebirth? My heart pounded with increasing panic, but I had no one to confide in. Brittany, once assured that I had the lock, quickly grew tired of me and moved out of the dorm, not even bothering to pretend anymore. She told everyone she met: “I had someone read my fortune, and Cassidy is going to be a magnet for bad luck, sick all the time. I’d advise you all to stay far away from her.” I gritted my teeth, propping up my ailing body, and found the same fortune teller who had read my fate in my last life. After hearing the whole story, the fortune teller said there must be something I hadn’t discovered and told me to go back and search thoroughly. I had no choice. I rummaged through everything she had ever given me, but found nothing. Just as I was despairing, I shook out my pillowcase, and a small paper doll fluttered out. It was drawn to resemble Jason, and on its back, his birth details were written! The fortune teller said, “That’s it! Both the lock and the paper doll work together. And since you touched the lock, the effect was stronger on you. But luckily, you found it early.” A cold sweat broke out over me. That same day, I placed the paper doll under my brother’s pillow and instructed my parents to watch him as he slept. The next day, my fever gradually subsided. This time, I was eager to see how Brittany could enjoy a life of luxury as she did in my last life.

Soon, my brother developed a fever, which terrified my parents. They wanted to rush him to the hospital, but I managed to persuade them otherwise. I told them this fever would soon pass, and they would have a normal son. My parents hesitated, hardly daring to believe. After all, my brother had been intellectually disabled for over twenty years! To keep Brittany from suspecting anything, I continued to feign illness. I SnapChatted her: “Can you bring me lunch?” She didn’t even bother to pretend anymore. “Don’t you have hands? You think people are your mom?” “I thought we were best friends, but why are you treating me like this now that I’m sick?” “Best friends, my ass! I’ve been sick of you for ages! We’re done!” “What did I ever do to you?” The message went out, but it came back with a red exclamation mark. She had blocked me. I immediately screenshotted the chat and posted it on Ins. “My best friend won’t even bring me food when I’m sick and cut off our friendship. Is it wrong for me to feel heartbroken?” Instantly, my Ins comments section buzzed with discussions. “She’s actually like that behind the scenes? No wonder…” “This woman is such a drama queen, two-faced. Who would ever be friends with her?” … Besides that, I received many comforting messages from “little angels.” An hour later, a pounding knock echoed at the door. Brittany, her face full of impatience, opened the door and tossed the meal onto my desk. “There, happy now? You’re so much trouble.” “And I’m telling you, delete that Ins post right now, or I’ll rip your mouth off!” She threw it so hard that the soup and rice spilled across my desk, dripping onto the floor. I captured the scene with my phone and posted it on Ins again. “My best friend intentionally spilled my food on my desk and threatened to rip my mouth off if I kept talking. What should I do?” “Can this friendship even continue?” The comments below piled up, calling her a gangster and giving her the nickname “Mouth Ripper.” She became infamous overnight. Mention her name, and everyone would respond with sarcasm. My phone started ringing off the hook. It was Brittany, furious, spitting mad. She called to reach me. But I expressionlessly hung up and blocked her number. I secretly went to the hospital to check on her boyfriend, Jason, who was still recovering from his initial illness. Brittany was there, clutching her phone tightly. “She’s ruining my reputation!” “That b****! I hate her!” Jason comforted her. “It’s okay, baby. The master said the life swap is in progress. Just a few more days, and I’ll have her fortune. Then we’ll never be short on cash.” “I’ll buy you houses, cars, planes, yachts! Will you still be mad about such small things then?” Brittany was captivated by the pipe dream he was spinning, holding her breath. “Hubby, you have to promise me you’ll love me forever.” “Of course, I will.” A cold laugh echoed in my heart. Too bad their wishes were destined to fall flat. In this world, nothing truly comes for free. After all, every destined gift already has its price marked in the shadows. Soon, Jason was discharged from the hospital. The life swap was a success. They walked hand in hand, ecstatic.

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The Mayor’s son was held captive by a serial killer in an abandoned slaughterhouse. I set up my sniper rifle, the crosshairs steady on the killer. But just as I was about to pull the trigger, my husband, Commander Ryder Hayes of the SWAT team, suddenly cut off my comms. “Hold your fire! Wait for Dr. Monroe to arrive for psychological negotiations!” It was just like in my past life. After the criminal psychologist rushed to the scene, she droned on for forty minutes with her long-winded psycho-babble. That only enraged the madman, and he cut off one of the hostage’s ears right there. I couldn’t stand it. I took the shot, killing the killer instantly. Dr. Monroe immediately threw up and fainted, her reputation as an “incompetent expert” irrevocably tarnished, leading to a complete mental breakdown. And my husband? He transferred me to an organ trafficking team, undercover. On the night of the operation, he deliberately called my burner phone. “Love showing off, don’t you? Let’s see how tough you are when you’re vivisected!” In my final moments, I saw him with Celeste Monroe, his arm around her, his face twisted in feigned grief. Reborn to this exact moment, the killer’s blade was still pressed against the hostage’s neck. I slowly lowered my sniper rifle, a cold sneer playing on my lips. This time, let’s see how you two manage to put on your show.

Over the comms, Celeste Monroe’s voice reached each of our ears. Her tone was soft, as if soothing a tantrum-throwing child, not a mentally unstable kidnapper holding a sharp blade. “I understand you’re in a lot of pain right now… a lot of anger. We’ve all heard your demands…” “But harming others won’t truly solve your problems. We can find a better way, together…” “Damn it!” In my earpiece, an assault team member, hidden on the flank, couldn’t help but snarl, his voice thick with suppressed rage. “What the hell is she talking about? Can’t she see that son of a bitch is about to slice him open?!” “Command, target’s emotional state is clearly deteriorating! Negotiations are ineffective! Requesting authorization to fire!” Another urgent voice cut in, it was Hawk, the spotter. Silence hung on the channel for a second, then Commander Ryder Hayes, my husband and the mission lead, spoke, his voice unnervingly calm. “Maintain patience. Dr. Monroe is establishing trust! No one moves without my direct order!” “Screw his trust! If we wait any longer, the hostage will be dead!” The team member’s voice was low, but the fury was unmistakable. Celeste’s voice resumed, still slow and deliberate. “Your current actions… perhaps they are a repetition of the trauma you experienced in childhood? We can talk about that…” “F**k!” Someone in the channel couldn’t hold back a curse. The kidnapper seemed enraged by her words, letting out a hoarse scream. “Shut up! What the hell are you? One more word, and I’ll kill him right now!” The killer’s blade pressed another fraction deeper into the Mayor’s son’s trembling neck, a thin line of blood snaking downwards. The young man let out a choked sob, his pupils dilated with extreme terror. The Mayor’s hoarse roar practically blew out our comms, followed by a chorus of frantic pleas for him to calm down. “Ryder Hayes! If my son loses a single hair, you can kiss that badge goodbye! Shoot! Save him!” After a brief silence, Ryder’s voice finally returned. “Layla, report target’s real-time dynamics.” Everyone’s earpiece went silent for a moment. In the past, I’d provide the calmest, most professional assessment, giving him the basis for his decisions and often shouldering the heaviest burden of responsibility. But now… Through my high-magnification scope, I watched the trembling young man. And I watched the madman, visibly growing more agitated with every word Celeste spoke. I spoke, my voice steady, without a hint of tremor. “My expertise is marksmanship, not psychoanalyzing a madman.” “That judgment, Commander, is yours to make.” The channel went dead silent. I could imagine Ryder Hayes’s expression right then. His usual calm facade would’ve instantly frozen, perhaps even a flicker of incredulous shock crossing his face. “Layla! Watch your tone! This is an active operation!” His voice was laced with reprimand, attempting to regain control. I responded instantly, my tone respectful, but my words hard as steel. “Yes, Commander. My finger will not touch the trigger until you give the order.” “After all, I wouldn’t want to be responsible for disrupting Dr. Monroe’s ‘trust-building process.’”

In my past life, my shot was clean, a headshot. The hostage was rescued, the Mayor was endlessly grateful, and I became a hero. That life-saving act earned me a promotion and commendations, but it also became the catalyst that pushed me into hell. Ryder couldn’t tolerate a wife who was uncontrollable, too competent, and might even overshadow him. Especially since I’d humiliated his idealized Celeste Monroe and caused her mental breakdown. So, he threw me into the dirtiest, most dangerous organ trafficking syndicate as an undercover agent. Then, during the critical take-down operation, he deliberately exposed me. I still remember that last look he gave me, full of hypocrisy and malice. A scream pulled me back to reality. It was Celeste. Her face was frantic. “You… you mustn’t get agitated! I’m only trying to help you, if you act like this, it’s hard for us to communicate…” “Help me?” The kidnapper let out a grating, insane laugh, and the tip of his knife slashed violently! “Ah!” A shrill, distorted scream echoed in the air. The next second, a bloodied finger rolled onto the ground. The Mayor’s son’s left pinky finger had been severed. He rolled his eyes, almost passing out. “You psycho! You absolute madman! How could you?” Celeste’s shriek echoed, laced with sobs and incredulous condemnation, her professional demeanor completely shattered. “I was trying to help you! Why didn’t you listen?” Her screaming undoubtedly fueled the fire. The kidnapper’s facial muscles twisted frantically, seemingly utterly enraged by her accusation. His blood-stained knife was raised again. This time, it was aimed at the hostage’s eyes. “Help me? Sending some bitch to lecture me? Are you messing with me? Believe me, I’ll gouge out his eyes right now!” Everyone’s blood seemed to freeze in that moment. However, the expected decisive order from Commander Ryder Hayes for a full assault or a shot didn’t come. “Celeste, fall back! Watch your safety!” His priority was protecting the woman whose incompetence was actively sabotaging the mission and endangering the hostage. The Mayor’s frantic roar almost shattered our eardrums. “Ryder Hayes! My son’s hand! Did you see it?! Shoot! Kill that madman now!” “Otherwise, I’ll relieve you of your command! Without mercy!” Ryder’s breathing grew heavy over the comms. “Celeste, immediately retreat to a safe distance!” He prioritized her safety again, then, as if forced, gritted his teeth and squeezed out an order. “Sniper team, prepare…” “Ryder!” Celeste’s tearful voice cut in, full of indignant protest, stubborn certainty, and a hint of calculated desperation. “They just don’t understand, this is classic trauma response!” “Violence will only escalate the tragedy! We need empathy, we need to build a bridge of trust!” “Enraging him now will only make him more extreme!” She seemed to conveniently forget whose ‘empathy’ had enraged him enough to make him lop off a finger just moments ago. “Everyone’s yelling at me… even you don’t trust my professional judgment anymore?” She even had the nerve to pout and whine at Ryder. Just then, Hawk’s urgent voice broke through. “Commander Ryder…” “Recon team just reported, the area around the perp, under his feet… might be booby-trapped with explosives!”

“Explosives?!” A collective gasp went through the channel, and Ryder Hayes’s breath hitched. Hawk’s voice was urgent and clear. “Wires extend from his feet, covering an unknown area! A direct assault is extremely risky!” The situation instantly escalated. This wasn’t just a hostage crisis anymore; it was a powder keg threatening to blow us all to smithereens. “Damn it…” A team member cursed under his breath, his voice heavy with helplessness. Celeste seemed terrified by the news. Her sobbing stopped abruptly, leaving only faint, startled whimpers. But the next second, her voice suddenly took on that infuriatingly professional tone again. “See…? See? I told you not to provoke him!” “He lacks security, he’s terrified, that’s why he resorts to such extreme measures for protection!” “We must first understand his inner turmoil, build trust…” “Screw his trust!” A furious, barely contained roar exploded over the comms – it was Captain Diaz, from the forward assault position. “I wanted to put a bullet in that son of a bitch moments ago! Now look! This damn shrink has dragged us all into a death trap!” “Shut up!” Ryder snapped, but a faint, undeniable tremor of panic was in his voice. He took a deep breath. “Celeste, continue to attempt communication, keep him calm!” “Bomb squad! Assess the situation! Assault teams, fall back and find cover!” His orders were chaotic, both telling Celeste to approach and ordering the teams to retreat, clearly rattled by the sudden turn of events. Celeste, receiving her directive, seemed to swell with self-importance, her voice rising several decibels. “You actually don’t want this, do you? We can help you…” “Just release the hostage…” The kidnapper’s facial muscles twitched, his eyes wildly scanning his surroundings. He pressed the knife harder against the hostage’s neck, beads of blood oozing out. The kidnapper’s wild laughter ceased, replaced by a furious rage, a man completely humiliated. “Understand me? Help me? That’s pure bullshit!” He spat, his emotions boiling over. “You’re all a bunch of hypocrites! Is there anything in your heads besides how to kill me?!” “Sending some bitch to drone on endlessly? Do you really think I’m an idiot?!” Celeste’s face paled from his yelling, and she instinctively took a half-step back. But then, as if to prove something, she forced herself forward, her voice shrill. “How can you speak like that! I am trying to save you! You, with your antisocial personality…” “To hell with your antisocial personality!” The kidnapper violently kicked a rusty metal frame nearby, creating a deafening clang. “Get away from me! Or I’ll slit his throat right now!”

He pressed down on his wrist, and the hostage let out a whimper. “Ah!” Celeste shrieked, terrified by the direct death threat, her composure completely gone. She whirled towards her comm, her voice shrill and piercing with tears, utterly devoid of any semblance of professionalism. “Ryder! Did you hear that? He cursed at me! He actually cursed at me like that! I was trying to help him!” “He’s just an irredeemable psycho! A barbaric, vulgar animal!” “Go arrest him! Teach him a lesson!” The channel went dead silent. Only her aggrieved, furious sobs and the kidnapper’s heavy breathing intertwined. Ryder’s voice immediately came back, full of bias and urgency. “Celeste, evacuate now! Assault Team One, cover Dr. Monroe’s retreat!” His order was clear and decisive, a stark contrast to his hesitation during the initial hostage crisis. Several assault team members quickly moved, forming a protective barrier. They escorted Celeste rapidly back behind cover. The kidnapper watched the scene, letting out a string of mocking, wild laughs. “Hahahaha… Aww, did the little princess get her feelings hurt? Her knight in shining armor is so upset!” “Damn it! You phony, self-righteous bastards are what I hate most!” His gaze returned to the almost-collapsed hostage, the madness in his eyes growing more intense. “Show’s over, little rich boy. Looks like your life isn’t worth as much as the expert’s whimpering.” He licked his chapped lips, the blood-stained knife tip slowly moving down, sliding from the Mayor’s son’s neck to his chest. The Mayor’s roar in the comm channel had turned into a guttural scream. Ryder’s voice was taut as a wire, desperately trying to suppress the chaos. “Bomb squad! Report! How much longer?!” “The wiring is complex, coverage area too large. At least ten minutes to locate the core detonator!” “Ten minutes!” Ryder’s voice was almost a shriek. Celeste was practically dragged back behind the makeshift command cover by the assault team members. Her hair was disheveled, her face still streaked with tears, her eyes filled with humiliation and resentment. “He dared… he dared to treat me like that!” Her voice trembled as she clutched Ryder’s arm. “Ryder! I can’t let this go! He has to pay!” Ryder’s brows were deeply furrowed. He watched the bomb squad’s progress while trying to soothe her. “Celeste, just calm down for a moment, it’s very dangerous here…” “No!” Celeste violently shook off his hand, a flicker of madness in her eyes. “I want to finish him myself!”

She suddenly pointed at me, where I was concealed at my sniper position. “Layla! Give me your sniper rifle!” Every team member in the channel held their breath for a moment. Ryder was stunned too. “Celeste, stop. This isn’t a time for games!” “I’m not playing games!” Celeste straightened her back, trying to project a professional, calm demeanor, but couldn’t hide the tremor and excitement in her voice. “Criminal psychology involves behavioral prediction!” “I’ve studied his micro-expressions and body language; I know what his next move will be! I’m confident I can hit him!” She looked at Ryder, her tone pleading. “Ryder, make her assist me!” “Layla’s the best sniper, right? Have her calculate wind speed, distance.” “Together, we can take him down before he hurts the hostage!” “Nonsense!” Over the comms, Captain Diaz couldn’t help but snarl. Ryder, however, fell silent. He looked at Celeste’s stubborn, tear-streaked face, his eyes filled with a blind indulgence and trust. He was actually considering it. In his mind, perhaps this was the only way to salvage Celeste’s pride and confidence? Or maybe he simply couldn’t refuse any of her demands? “Layla.” Ryder’s voice came through the channel, a tone of undeniable command. “You will assist Dr. Monroe in the shot. She will determine the timing, and you will provide data support.” “Ensure a clean shot, and rescue the hostage.” The sheer absurdity almost made me laugh out loud. Me? The three-time consecutive SWAT sniper champion, assisting a psychologist who probably couldn’t even hold a rifle steady? In my past life, he caused my brutal death. In this life, he wanted to drag everyone down to sacrifice for Celeste’s ego. “Commander, I refuse.” My voice was cold as ice. Ryder’s voice instantly rose, laced with anger. “Layla! That’s an order!” My words were steady, each one clear. “Dr. Monroe lacks sniper qualifications. Her emotional state is highly unstable. Allowing her to lead this shot would be tantamount to murder.” “Layla! You…!” Ryder was furious. Celeste’s shrill voice cut in, tearful and accusatory. “Ryder! Look at her! She’s just jealous of me!” “She’s afraid that if I succeed, she’ll look incompetent! She doesn’t want to save the Mayor’s son at all!” “I don’t have time to listen to your arguments.” I coldly cut her off, my scope never leaving the target. “Commander, if you insist on Dr. Monroe taking the shot, please inform all active personnel and the Mayor himself.” “This shot will be entirely Dr. Monroe’s responsibility, and all consequences will be jointly borne by you and her.” My words were like a bucket of ice water, instantly dousing Ryder’s impulsive idea. Jointly borne consequences. Did he dare? He didn’t. He knew better than anyone that Celeste couldn’t do it. He just wanted her to try; if she succeeded, it would be his credit. If she failed… he would likely push the blame onto me. Sure enough, Ryder fell into a dreadful silence. Celeste continued to whine incessantly. “Ryder! You promised me! Make her help me, I can do it…” “Enough!” Ryder finally roared, his voice filled with irritation and internal struggle. Just then, Hawk’s urgent voice broke through again. “Commander Ryder! The kidnapper has pulled out the detonator! He’s counting down: Ten! Nine! Eight…” The bomb squad’s alarmed shouts came simultaneously. “No! Too late!” “Seven! Six! Five!…” Everyone’s hearts were in their throats. “Four! Three!…” In that split second. “Bang!”

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Ten years into my marriage, Marcus Hayes’s first love, Chloe White, suddenly returned from abroad. He brought her straight to our home. Marcus looked at me, his face etched with guilt. “Chloe left the country for me all those years ago. She went through so much.” “I have a responsibility to take care of her.” Even my stepson, whom I’d raised and painstakingly nurtured, now looked at me with open resentment. I calmly suggested a divorce. He sneered, reminding me, “Don’t forget our prenup. If you’re the one who files for divorce, you’ll walk away with absolutely nothing. Every cent of the assets in your name will be forfeited.” He was so certain I’d never give up the wealth and prestige I’d worked ten years for, that I’d never dare to leave. But what he didn’t know was that while he was spending all night with that woman, I was signing away every last penny, preparing to gracefully exit the Hayes family. I already had what I truly wanted. And him? I was done with him. When Marcus Hayes walked into the living room of our house with Chloe White, I was in my study, reviewing the foundation’s quarterly report. His face held a plea. “Vivian, Chloe was forced to leave the country because of me back then.” “She’s been alone all these years, suffering so much. I can’t just abandon her.” Chloe, by his side, wore a simple, elegant dress. She instinctively recoiled behind Marcus, making her appear even more delicate and helpless. “Marcus, don’t make things difficult for Vivian… I can stay at a hotel.” Marcus immediately shielded her, and his gaze towards me sharpened with annoyance. I closed the file in my hand, my eyes calmly sweeping over the two of them. This scene felt eerily familiar. Years ago, Marcus’s grandfather, old money through and through, fiercely disapproved of Chloe’s lack of social standing. Marcus had an explosive fight with his family over it. Ultimately, Chloe took a sizable settlement and quietly left for another country. At that time, my family, the Reeds, was facing a major financial crisis. We desperately needed the Hayes family’s connections and resources to overcome it. When the strategic marriage proposal was presented to me, I initially refused. Vivian Reed’s life had never required her to rely on anyone else. But seeing my parents’ hair graying with worry, I finally nodded. On our wedding day, Marcus Hayes’s face showed no joy. He looked at me coldly and said, “Vivian Reed, this is just a marriage of convenience. Don’t expect me to love you.” I replied calmly, “I understand. I will fulfill my duties as Mrs. Hayes. I also hope you remember our agreement, Marcus.” Ten years. We went from mutual annoyance to peacefully sharing a dinner table. He gradually recognized my capabilities, entrusting me with the full management of the foundation jointly established by Hayes and Reed Corporations. We were like a pair of perfectly synchronized business partners. Four years ago, Marcus even brought a child back to the house—a son he’d had from an affair years ago. When that timid child stood in the living room, looking at everyone with hostility, it was *I* who reached out to him first. His name was Leo Hayes. No one else in the Hayes family liked him. I was the one who patiently taught him manners, staying up all night when he was sick. When other kids at school mocked him for being an illegitimate child, I was the one who unhesitatingly stepped up to protect him, telling him, “You are Leo Hayes, the future of this family. No one can look down on you.” I never imagined this delicate balance would one day be shattered.

I watched Marcus shielding Chloe, and my heart sank, piece by agonizing piece. In the suffocating silence, a light, quick footsteps echoed from the entryway. “I’m home!” Leo Hayes had just returned from school, his eyes sparkling as he searched for me. However, when he saw the scene in the living room, his steps abruptly halted. The moment Chloe saw Leo, tears instantly welled up in her eyes. She covered her mouth, her voice trembling as she murmured, “Leo… Is that my Leo?” The next second, Leo lunged towards Chloe, burying his face in her embrace. “Mommy! Mommy, you came for me!” I stumbled backward, caught off guard, frozen in place. I whipped my head around to Marcus, my voice raw and husky. “Marcus Hayes, what is going on?” He first calmed the two, who were now crying in each other’s arms, then escorted them upstairs. As I watched the two figures, one large, one small, disappear up the stairs, my voice turned cold as ice. “Now, you can explain.” Marcus turned to me, his guilt deepening, but now mixed with a resigned, almost defiant honesty. “Leo is Chloe’s son.” “She was already pregnant with my child when she left back then.” “Later… she couldn’t raise him, so she contacted me and sent him back.” “And why didn’t you tell me?” I could barely control the volume of my voice. “I treated him with genuine sincerity, I raised him as my own son!” Marcus offered a bitter smile, about to speak, but I cut him off. “Leo knew everything, didn’t he?” Marcus was silent for a moment, his silence a confirmation. “Last year… Chloe occasionally FaceTimed him. A child’s longing for his mother is natural…” So that was it. No wonder, for a while last year, Leo kept hiding to make calls and started acting strange around me. This was why. Marcus took a step forward, trying to soothe me. “Chloe is only staying temporarily. Once I find a suitable place, I’ll send them away.” “You’re always so generous and understanding, don’t make things difficult for me, okay?” My chest ached, a deep, suffocating pain. Suddenly, I didn’t even have the energy to question him further. I simply pulled at the corner of my mouth, a smile utterly devoid of warmth. “Marcus Hayes, you both make me sick.” With that, I walked straight back to my room. The world fell silent, and only then did I feel a faint, heavy ache in my lower abdomen. I leaned against the door, taking a deep breath, trying to ignore the subtle yet undeniable pain. Over the next few days, Chloe and Leo stayed in the guest room on the second floor. Leo seemed like a completely different child. When he saw me, his eyes held a stubborn hostility, completely lacking the closeness and dependency he used to show.

A few days later, the Hayes family hosted a corporate gala. As Mrs. Hayes, I had no choice but to force a smile and socialize. Marcus stayed by my side, playing the part of an affectionate husband, but his gaze constantly drifted to a corner of the room. Chloe sat there, Leo nestled close to her, forming a bond that no outsider could penetrate. Midway through the evening, feeling a bit tired, I headed to the terrace for some fresh air. Just as I reached the edge of the pool, Leo, who I hadn’t noticed following me, appeared behind me. I turned around. His face held a hatred and coldness utterly unsuited for his age. “Vivian Reed.” He called me by my first name for the first time, his voice sharp and cruel. “My mom is back. This family doesn’t need you anymore. Why aren’t you leaving?” I looked at his face, contorted by fury, and felt only weariness mixed with a chilling disappointment. “Leo, do you know what you’re saying?” “Of course, I do!” He suddenly became agitated, taking a step forward and pushing me hard! “You took my dad! And now you’re trying to bully my mom! I hate you! Get out of my house!” I was caught off guard, my high heel twisted, and I tumbled backward! *Splash!* The icy pool water instantly enveloped me. A sharp, agonizing pain shot through my lower abdomen. I could feel a warm, uncontrolled gush of fluid beneath me. Gasps and commotion erupted around us. Marcus quickly heard the noise and jumped into the pool, pulling me out. I was soaked, shivering violently. My hands instinctively clutched my lower abdomen, the pain so intense I could barely speak. “Vivian! Are you okay?” Marcus’s voice was urgent, laced with a hint of panic. He wrapped his jacket around me. I gripped his arm, my voice broken. “Marcus… the baby…” I was pregnant. I had only found out yesterday, and I planned to tell him once the pregnancy was stable. Just then, Chloe rushed over. Marcus’s gaze was drawn to her. She grabbed the equally stunned Leo, weeping dramatically, her voice even louder than my faint moans. “Marcus, Leo didn’t mean it…” “It’s my fault, all my fault for coming back and upsetting Vivian. The child just acted on impulse…” She hugged Leo tightly, as if I were some terrifying monster. “Leo is so scared, he’s so small, he was just so upset…” Marcus looked at the sobbing Chloe and Leo, then at my pale face. The brief flicker of panic and shock in his eyes was replaced by irritation and disappointment. He cut me off before I could finish speaking, his voice cold and stern, laced with责备. “Vivian, Leo is still young. He didn’t do it on purpose.” “Can’t you… just be a little more understanding?”

At his words, the guests’ eyes filled with surprise, and then thinly veiled mockery. They watched me, the usually poised and elegant Mrs. Hayes, sitting there by the pool, utterly disheveled. “A little more… understanding?” I gritted out the words through clenched teeth. The agonizing cramps in my lower abdomen made cold sweat stream down my face. The warm, trickling sensation below grew more distinct. “Mr. Hayes, perhaps you should take Mrs. Hayes to the hospital first?” Finally, a bystander, unable to watch any longer, whispered a suggestion. Chloe, however, sobbed even harder, clutching Marcus’s arm tightly, terrified he would leave her side. “Marcus, Leo really didn’t mean it…” “Vivian, I apologize on Leo’s behalf. Please don’t blame him…” Leo, hidden in her embrace, showed no fear in his eyes, only a triumphant stubbornness and hatred. Marcus’s brows were deeply furrowed, clearly annoyed by the chaos. He looked at the pale Chloe and the frightened Leo. Then he looked at me, curled up in pain, unable to speak. The brief flicker of panic at my potential injury was completely replaced by pity for the mother and son. He sighed, his voice carrying an undeniable finality. “Enough! It was just a small accident. Vivian isn’t that delicate.” “Mr. Jenkins, help Mrs. Hayes upstairs to change into some dry clothes. She’ll be fine after resting.” His callousness and stupidity utterly crushed me. I didn’t even have the strength to argue. I let the butler and maids, who had rushed over, clumsily help me up. I was escorted back to the master bedroom, but the bleeding beneath me showed no signs of stopping, staining the sheets crimson. The pain intensified with each passing moment, and I couldn’t help but cry out. The maids were terrified. This time, they didn’t dare to delay and immediately called an ambulance. I was rushed to the hospital. The constant wetness below me told me I was losing something precious. When I woke again, the doctor stood by my bed, his voice filled with regret. “I’m sorry, Mrs. Hayes, we couldn’t save the baby.” “You’re still young. Please accept our condolences.” Outside, the sky had shifted from dark to light, and then back to dark. The phone on my nightstand was eerily silent. No calls from Marcus, not a single word. Later, from Mr. Jenkins’s hesitant report, I learned that Marcus had calmed the frightened Chloe and the momentarily clumsy Leo. He hadn’t even followed me to the hospital to check on my condition. In his eyes, perhaps it truly was just an accident caused by my lack of generosity. After recuperating for a week in the hospital, I discharged myself. Instead of returning to the Hayes estate, I had my driver take me directly to the company.

When I returned to the office, a subtle silence hung in the air. Employees quickly lowered their heads, pretending to be busy. I pushed open the door to Marcus’s office. He was standing by the floor-to-ceiling window, talking on the phone. His tone was one I’d never heard from him – gentle and patient. “Make sure you spend time with him… Don’t overthink things, it’ll be okay…” He didn’t even notice my arrival immediately. It wasn’t until I walked to his large desk and tapped my finger on the surface, creating a sharp sound, that he turned around. Seeing me, a flicker of surprise, then a brief, almost imperceptible shame crossed his eyes. But it was quickly replaced by his usual calm, tinged with a slight distance. He hung up the phone before looking at me again. “You’re discharged? Why didn’t you rest a few more days?” His voice was a perfunctory greeting as he walked around his desk and sat down. “Everything’s normal here at the company, no need to rush back.” I didn’t sit. I slammed the divorce papers onto his desk. My voice was utterly flat, as if stating an unrelated fact. “Marcus Hayes, we’re getting a divorce.” The air thickened for a few seconds. He looked up, as if he’d heard the most absurd joke. “Divorce?” “Vivian, do you know what you’re saying?” My gaze didn’t waver. “I’m very clear.” Marcus leaned back in his chair, his posture relaxed and confident. “What kind of tantrum are you throwing now? Is this about the gala?” “Leo didn’t mean it, he’s just a child.” “Chloe has already apologized on his behalf. What more do you want?” He tapped the divorce papers with his finger, his eyes cold and contemptuous. “Don’t forget the prenup we signed.” “It’s in black and white, crystal clear. If you, Vivian Reed, initiate the divorce, it’s a breach of contract, and you must walk away with nothing.” “You won’t take a single penny of anything related to the Hayes family, including all the assets you’ve acquired over these years in your name.” He leaned forward, lowering his voice, full of threat and absolute certainty. “Are you willing to lose it all?” “Are you willing to give up everything you’ve fought for these ten years? Without the Hayes family, what is Vivian Reed?” I looked at the absolute conviction on his face, the way he thought he controlled everything, and suddenly, I gave a faint, soft laugh. My laughter seemed to anger him. Marcus picked up the divorce papers from the desk, tore them into shreds without even looking, and flung them at me. The white pieces of paper scattered at my feet. “I’m busy. I don’t have time for your self-pitying drama.” “Just say what you want directly, but divorce? Absolutely not!” With that, he didn’t spare me another glance. He grabbed his jacket and phone, striding out of the office. I slowly knelt down, picking up the torn pieces of paper.

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The Chief of Staff’s daughter had fallen from the fourth floor, and I was ready, waiting to head into surgery. The ambulance screeched into the hospital, and the patient was rushed to the operating table. But in that critical moment, my husband, Dr. Marcus Thorne, the Chief Physician, suddenly called a halt. He did it just to wait for his first love, Dr. Serena Wells, the acclaimed doctor who supposedly studied abroad, to be the lead surgeon. It was the same exact scenario in my previous life. But that celebrated overseas specialist had no real surgical skills – all theory, no practical experience. She almost missed the golden hour for the surgery. It was only my insistence on the original treatment plan that turned the situation around. Humiliated, Serena jumped from the hospital’s rooftop, ending up a quadriplegic. And my husband? He had me exiled to a struggling clinic in a neglected neighborhood, even arranging for thugs to assault me there. I tried to hide and call for help, but his reply was chilling. “Vivian Vance, it was just one surgery. Did you really have to steal Lili’s thunder?” “Then you, too, deserve to experience torment.” My location was exposed through the phone call, and I was ultimately brutalized to death. When I opened my eyes again, the gurney was already being wheeled in front of me. This time, I didn’t rush. Hands in my pockets, I waited. Let his overseas specialist show off her supposedly masterful surgical skills and save that patient.

“Why is this overseas specialist taking so long? We’re racing against death here!” “The patient’s body temperature is already rising, and her limbs are swelling.” “If she starts convulsing, we might not be able to save her.” The surgical team huddled behind me, frantic with worry. But no matter how anxious or how much they urged, all they got was Marcus’s harsh reprimand. “What’s the rush? Do you really think any of you can save this patient?” “Lili graduated with a PhD from the best hospital abroad. As long as she’s on the table, there won’t be any problems.” Marcus’s shouting left the team bewildered and unsure what to do. But he always had full control over major surgeries, and no one dared to question him. Chloe, my university roommate from Neurosurgery, who was standing behind me, couldn’t help but speak up. “If we wait any longer, we might not save her at all. Let’s get her into the OR and intubate her; at least that’ll buy us some time.” Doctors from every department across the hospital had rushed over for this consultation, hoping to finalize the best surgical plan immediately. But Chloe’s words didn’t sway Marcus; they only irritated him further. “This surgery falls entirely under my discretion. You Neurosurgery folks just wait for my orders.” Chloe bristled. “How dare you speak to me like that? All medical staff are colleagues here!” “Besides, I’m giving you professional advice!” But Marcus’s face turned cold. He glared at the Chief of Neurosurgery. “Replace her. Send her back to Neurosurgery. We don’t need her here!” Chloe spun around in a rage, stomping away, but not before shooting Marcus a furious glare. Then, Marcus’s gaze fell on me. “Vivian, what do you think?” Chloe was my college roommate. He’d just chastised her and sent her away, yet only after she left did he ask me. The implication was clear. I looked at him, a faint smile touching my lips. “You’re the Chief of the department and the one in charge of this surgery. I’ll naturally follow your lead.” Marcus hadn’t expected me to be so compliant today. He gave a satisfied chuckle, then looked at the consulting doctors behind him. “See? This is the obedience a doctor should possess.” I stood calmly behind him, watching it all unfold. In my previous life, I chose to fight him to the bitter end, and what did I get? He had me killed in a deprived area, all for Serena Wells. This time, I certainly wouldn’t be that foolish.

In the midst of everyone’s eager anticipation, Serena Wells finally arrived. She wore perfectly applied makeup and sauntered along, completely unhurried. The Chief of Staff’s daughter’s body temperature was steadily climbing. Serena approached, glancing around. “Did you get X-rays? Without them, how can I determine the fracture points?” The nurse promptly handed her the imaging scans. Serena’s words were stuck in her throat. But she still didn’t admit she couldn’t do the surgery. “Just images aren’t enough. I also need to know the blood loss volume and if it’s suitable for an incision.” Nurse Miller finally lost her patience. She looked at Serena, her eyes filled with undisguised contempt. “Dr. Wells!” Nurse Miller emphasized the “Doctor” with biting sarcasm. She continued, “Can you actually perform this surgery?” “This isn’t the time to assess blood loss! We need to get her into the operating room immediately. Every minute she’s out here increases the danger.” Serena bristled. She glared at Nurse Miller, her voice cold. “Am I the lead surgeon or are you?” “You’re just a head nurse; how dare you speak to me like that!” Nurse Miller had worked in the hospital for over twenty years, accumulating knowledge and experience no less than any doctor. Serena, acting like she owned the place, then turned to Marcus, with a hint of playful reproach. “Marcus, since everyone here looks down on me so much, I might as well leave.” Marcus quickly stopped Serena, then glanced at me. He whispered something in Serena’s ear. Whatever they exchanged, Serena finally conceded. “Fine, let’s go into the operating room.” Everyone finally breathed a sigh of relief, swiftly wheeling the patient into the operating room. But then, another long wait ensued. The surgical team looked at me, hoping I would take charge. I looked at the girl’s weakening heartbeat on the monitor, feeling helpless. “Dr. Vance, at least get her breathing so her lungs don’t suffer any more damage.” I hesitated for a moment, just about to nod. Serena, now dressed in surgical scrubs, walked in. All eyes turned to her, their gazes filled with an unspoken resentment. If a life was lost because of this incompetent quack, they would surely tear Serena apart. But Serena remained oblivious. She arrogantly strutted forward, glanced at the girl’s body, and spoke indifferently. “It’s not as serious as I thought. You called me here for this? I hadn’t even finished my face mask.” Nurse Miller gritted her teeth in rage, but she bit back her retort. Marcus then walked in. Serena scoffed, then went to Marcus’s side. “Marcus, with you here, this surgery is bound to be a success.” Marcus gently caressed her cheek. “Of course, darling. You’re the best doctor in the world.” Their intimate familiarity made the other surgeons in the room exchange glances, their eyes inevitably settling on me. My mask hid my face, but the turmoil in my eyes was still visible. It wasn’t for their private affections, but for the life on that operating table. I finally couldn’t help but speak. “Can we start now?” Serena shot me a disdainful glance, then scoffed. “What, you want to take over?” “Now you’re bossing me around? I’m the lead surgeon!” “If you’re so capable, why don’t you go get a PhD abroad yourself?” I didn’t reply, but the heart monitor suddenly screamed. Nurse Miller shouted in panic. “No! The patient is in ventricular fibrillation!”

The atmosphere in the operating room instantly turned desperate. “Quick! Prepare the defibrillator!” “Asynchronous cardioversion, 200 joules!” “One! Two! Three! Clear!” The nurses moved frantically, everyone working in tandem to extend a life. Serena, however, was terrified by the chaos. She ran into Marcus’s arms, whimpering and crying. “Waaah, Marcus, this is too scary.” “I don’t want to be here anymore, I want to leave.” The surgical team had no time for her overly dramatic performance, and neither did I. Marcus, however, protected Serena like a precious treasure. “It’s alright, darling. Just wait for them to revive her, then you can continue.” Finally, after more than two minutes of CPR, the girl’s heart resumed beating. But there was no more time to waste. Nurse Miller could barely control her internal panic. “Dr. Wells, can you or can’t you operate on this patient?” “If not, then get out of here, now!” Serena shot her a venomous glare, then turned to me. “This surgery isn’t worthy of my touch.” “You.” She raised a hand, pointing at me, “You do it.” I frowned slightly. A jolt of alarm went through me. I had been keeping a low profile, waiting until the very last moment when I absolutely had to intervene. But not only had Marcus pointed me out earlier, now Serena seemed to have a GPS tracker on me too. She had her sights on me. I pressed my lips together. In my moment of hesitation, Marcus also spoke. “Vivian Vance, since Lili wants you to do it, then you do it.” Marcus’s face was impassive; I couldn’t discern their intentions. But the other people in the operating room, hearing Serena name me to perform the surgery, felt a glimmer of hope. Nurse Miller quickly ushered me to the operating table. “Dr. Vance, we truly can’t let them mess around anymore.” “This is a human life! They’re just wasting precious time!” I subtly reassured Nurse Miller with my eyes, then began to prepare for surgery. Incision, intubation – seamlessly and efficiently. Nurse Miller stood by, handing me the surgical instruments. I didn’t need to speak; a mere gesture would bring me the perfect tool. Although I had performed this surgery once in my previous life, I still dared not be careless this time. The child was severely injured. She had fallen from the fifth floor, suffering skull damage and comminuted fractures in both arms and legs. I could only proceed slowly, step by step. My forehead was already beaded with sweat. I waited for the neurosurgeon to complete the skull repair, then I would take over for the arms and legs. Skull complete, the neurosurgeon passed the baton to me. I nodded, ready to pick up an instrument to open the arm, when Serena, who had been silent, spoke again. “Marcus, I want to learn from Vivian how to perform surgery.” I looked at Serena, confused. Her face held a smirk of pure provocation. Marcus didn’t hesitate. “Of course, darling. Lili can go wherever she wants, see whatever she wants.” “Vivian, you don’t mind, do you?” I couldn’t refuse, nor could I. Serena came to my side, squeezing Nurse Miller away. “Vivian, let me be your assistant.”

I knew the person beside me wasn’t truly interested in watching my surgery, despite what she said. But I looked at the monitor; the patient’s vitals were gradually worsening. There was absolutely no time to waste. I forced myself to focus all my attention on the surgery. “Forceps.” I spoke coldly, reaching my hand to the right for the instrument. But I waited and waited, and the tool never came. Serena’s shrill voice cut through the air. “Oh, Vivian, there are so many forceps here. Do you want the toothed forceps or the non-toothed ones?” “Non-toothed.” Only after getting a definitive answer did she pick up the forceps and place them in my hand. And that was just the beginning. Anything else I requested after that wasn’t immediately provided. Finally, on the fifth time, she asked me. “Sister, do you want the laser scalpel or the ultrasonic scalpel?” I shot her a cold glance. The triumphant look on her face made me want to plunge my scalpel into her heart. How could anyone have such a blatant disregard for human life? “Can you do this, or not? If not, just stand aside and watch.” I spoke calmly, “Nurse Miller, please, you take over.” I didn’t have time for her childish antics. Since this surgery had fallen to me, I was determined to complete it and save this child’s life. Serena scoffed dismissively. She stomped over to the other side and wouldn’t stop chattering while watching my operation. “Vivian, I wonder, if all the doctors in this country were as professional as you, would our national medicine have long been leading the world?” “Vivian, why don’t you teach me? I’ve only studied these things; I haven’t actually practiced them.” I frowned, not looking at her. “If you haven’t practiced, watch videos and train.” She was put in her place, biting her lip before scoffing disdainfully. “If you won’t teach, you won’t teach. Why so arrogant?” “You’ve just been in the hospital longer, that’s all. You’re not even half as capable as Marcus.” “He’s the Chief Physician now, and you’re just some broken surgeon.” I completely ignored her, which only made Serena even more defiant. She raised her hand and gave me a shove. “Hey, I’m talking to you! Why aren’t you answering?” The shove itself wasn’t the problem; the problem was that she pushed me just as I was about to excise the necrotic tissue. My hand was jostled by her force, and the scalpel accidentally nicked an artery. Blood immediately began to spray, throwing everyone in the room into a panic. “Quick, stop the bleeding!” “No! The patient’s blood pressure is down to 60! We need to stop the bleeding immediately!” Such an unexpected turn of events even shocked Serena. She froze, not daring to move. And Marcus finally spoke up. “It’s fine, as long as we stop the bleeding.” Serena seemed to gain some comfort. She continued her insolent and unreasonable chatter in my ear. “Oh, Vivian, what a colossal mess you’ve made!” “If the Chief of Staff finds out you further injured his daughter, do you think you’ll get punished?” I finally wasn’t indifferent anymore. My eyes glared at her. “What do you mean?” Just then, more bad news came from the anesthesiology team. “Dr. Vance, the patient’s blood oxygen is dropping rapidly! We need to suture the wound immediately!” Serena bent close to me, whispering in my ear. The warning beeps of the instruments and her words sounded like a whisper from hell. “I don’t think this kid will make it.” “But it’s okay. Even if the surgery fails, you’ll be the one taking the fall.

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After I died, I became a ghost, constantly hovering around my ex-boyfriend, Caleb. I thought he couldn’t see me, so I shamelessly slept beside him, even swiped his underwear, and chirped away while he was in the shower. Until that day, when his utterly exasperated voice came from the bathroom: “Elara, are you done messing around? Give me back my briefs.” I died, a hundred days after breaking up with Caleb. A freak car accident. Quick and definitive. When I opened my eyes again, I was floating in mid-air, watching my cold body being covered with a white sheet and loaded onto an ambulance. Then, an unseen force tugged at me, pulling me through countless walls, before finally depositing me in a familiar apartment. It was Caleb’s place. And just like that, I became a ghost. I floated in front of Caleb. He was sitting on the couch, a bottle of whiskey in hand, drinking mouthful after mouthful. The coffee table was littered with empty liquor bottles and takeout containers. The whole apartment reeked. He was a shadow of his former self, cheekbones sharp, eyes sunken, a scruffy beard dusting his jaw. Those eyes, which once always held a spark when they looked at me, were now utterly vacant. My non-existent heart felt like it was being squeezed tight, an excruciating pain. We’d been together for three years, from college sweethearts to navigating the real world. Everyone just assumed we’d end up getting married. Six months ago, he suddenly became distant, always busy. We argued, gave each other the silent treatment, until finally, he called it quits. He just said, “Elara, I’m exhausted.” Back then, I just thought he didn’t love me anymore. But seeing him in this state now… I wasn’t so sure anymore. “Caleb,” I floated to his ear, unable to stop myself from chattering, “Look at you, what a mess. You can’t even bother to shave, or sweep the floor. The garbage is practically burying you alive!” He didn’t react at all, just lifted the whiskey bottle and took another long swig. Fine. He really couldn’t see or hear me. My heart sank, yet a strange sense of relief washed over me. At least, I could still be by his side like this.

Deep into the night, Caleb drank himself into a stupor and passed out on the couch. His brow was furrowed, and he was muttering something I couldn’t quite make out. I leaned my ear closer. “Elara… don’t go…” My non-existent heart ached. Ghosts don’t shed tears, not literally. But his words made my very essence feel like it was unraveling. Well, well, Caleb. So you haven’t forgotten me after all. My courage grew, and I floated to his side, curling up next to him just like I used to. I couldn’t touch him, but I could smell his familiar scent, just as it always was. I stared at his sleeping face, extending my translucent hand to trace the line of his eyebrow, his eyelid. As if possessed by a sudden urge, I leaned down and brushed my lips against his. They were cold, utterly devoid of a living person’s warmth. We never got a proper goodbye when I was alive. Consider this my last, silent farewell. He seemed to sense something. His eyelashes fluttered, and he slowly opened his eyes. Our gazes met. My ghostly form instantly froze. He… he saw me? His eyes were hazy, still clouded by alcohol. He looked in my direction and reached out a hand, as if trying to grasp something. “Elara…” My heart leaped into my throat. But the next second, his hand dropped, his head lolled, and he sank back into a deep sleep. A crushing wave of disappointment washed over me. It was just drunken ramblings. I sighed, settling down beside him. “Caleb, you know what? I regret it. If I’d known this would happen, on the day we broke up, I wouldn’t have been so stubborn. I would have held you, begged you not to leave.” “But it’s too late for anything now.” “You have to live well, for both of us. Find a good girl, get married, have adorable kids. Then, slowly, forget about me.” As I spoke, my ghostly form seemed to grow fainter. *Forget about me.* Those three words stung more than the thought of simply fading away.

The next day, Caleb was woken by his phone ringing. He rubbed his aching head, still battling a hangover, and answered, his voice hoarse, “Hello, Mom.” His mother said something on the other end, and he impatiently cut her off, “I know, I know, I’ll clean up.” After hanging up, he looked around, his brow furrowed so deeply, you could have squeezed a coin between them. He started resignedly cleaning the apartment. I floated beside him, giving directions. “Yep, that stinky sock? It’s trash time.” “Are you planning to collect these takeout boxes forever?” “Seriously? You missed a spot. Over here, there’s still a footprint.” I kept yammering on, not even realizing that Caleb’s actions were mirroring my words perfectly. If I said east, he wouldn’t go west. It wasn’t until he finished cleaning the place and collapsed on the couch that I realized. Something was off. This was too much of a coincidence. Were we really still so in sync? My heart fluttered with a strange joy. With the apartment clean, Caleb seemed to be in a slightly better mood. He turned and headed for the bathroom, apparently to shower. My eyes lit up, and I immediately followed. Heh, he never let me watch before, but now I was a ghost. How was he going to stop me? Suddenly, *wham*, the bathroom door slammed shut right in front of me. I slammed right into it, feeling my ghostly essence ripple from the impact. “What the heck? Is there a protective charm on the door?” I rubbed my non-existent nose, not giving up, and tried again. Still couldn’t get in. I could only lean against the door, listening to the sound of the shower and letting my imagination run wild. “Caleb, showering alone is so boring. Want me to scrub your back?” “Hey, say something. Are you shy?” No sound from inside, but the shower seemed to pause for a moment. I didn’t think much of it and continued to tease him, “Oh, is your back still okay? You used to complain about the pain all the time. No one to massage it for you now, huh?” Inside, the shower suddenly stopped.

A moment later, the door opened. Caleb emerged, wrapped in a towel, his hair still dripping, his face flushed with an unusual redness. He didn’t even glance in my direction, heading straight for the kitchen and yanking open the fridge. It was empty. He sighed, settling for a packet of instant noodles. Seeing him like that, my heart twisted. I was feeling weaker too, my ghostly form almost transparent. Even ghosts need to “eat,” and for us, that means absorbing the essence of offerings, like burning incense. But I’d only just died. My parents were distraught, and they wouldn’t have thought about making offerings yet. “Starving…” I mumbled, leaning on the table. “Someone burn me some food. I want fried chicken, the original recipe. Two servings.” Caleb’s hand, stirring his noodles, stopped. He froze, turning his head in my direction. His gaze was odd—was it tentative? Or… fear? I froze too. What was his deal now? But he said nothing, turning back to his noodles. After finishing his meal, he changed clothes, grabbed his car keys, and headed out. I quickly floated after him. I was getting weaker, feeling like I was about to dissipate if I didn’t get some sustenance. I had to stick with him. What if he went to see my parents? I could potentially ‘mooch’ some spiritual energy.

Caleb didn’t go to my parents. He drove aimlessly through the streets. The radio was playing *our* song, that old ballad we used to adore. “If I never knew you, never saw you…” The lyrics twisted a knife in my non-existent gut. I floated in the passenger seat, looking at his profile, my heart heavy. The car drove past a boutique hotel, the one where we’d spent our first night together. Instinctively, I blurted out, “Oh, this place is still around?” As soon as the words left me, I saw Caleb’s ears turn red. Wait, *what*? No way. Could he actually hear me? Must be a delusion, absolutely. I shook my head, trying to clear away the crazy thought. As I was lost in thought, the car stopped. I looked up, stunned. “Funeral Home & Cremation Services.” Dude, what are you doing here? Caleb walked into the store, his face expressionless, and spent a long time browsing the extensive selection of funeral supplies. Finally, he bought a pot of marigolds. Back home, he said nothing, just carefully placed the pot of marigolds on the living room coffee table. The beautiful flowers carried a fresh, clean scent. The scent hit me like an oasis in a desert, and I instinctively lunged towards it. I opened my mouth and greedily inhaled the fragrance of the marigolds. A warmth instantly flooded my entire being, solidifying my ethereal form. It was heavenly. A true feast for the spectral! I let out a satisfied, non-existent burp and looked at Caleb on the couch. He was holding his phone, staring at a picture. The girl in the photo, smiling brightly, was me. He took that picture when we went to the beach last year. He used to say I was the most beautiful view he’d ever seen. So, you still kept my photos. My heart ached, a painful swell of emotion. He looked at the picture, his fingers gently tracing my face, his eyes slowly reddening. “Elara…” He whispered my name, as if talking to the picture. “I miss you so much.” I floated over, wanting to hug him, but my hand, of course, passed right through him. Right. There was life and death separating us now.

The next day, I was woken by the ring of a phone. Caleb answered, his tone impatient. “Mom, I told you I’m not going!” “What do you mean I *have* to go? I’m thirty, I make my own decisions!” “Fine, fine, I’ll go, okay? Just send me the address.” He hung up, tossing his phone onto the couch in frustration. A date? My heart dropped. Of course. He was thirty; it was time for him to settle down. My mom used to constantly nag him, saying he’d end up a lonely old bachelor if he didn’t settle down soon. I even joked that when he got old, I’d push his wheelchair in the park, and we’d watch the retirees playing board games. But now, I wouldn’t even have the chance to grow old with him. Even though my heart was aching fiercely, seeing Caleb reluctantly rummage through his closet for clothes, I couldn’t help but float over to offer advice. Ugh, that one’s so drab. This one’s good, blue. It really suits your complexion. He actually picked up the blue shirt and held it against himself in the mirror. Then, he shaved, and styled his hair. Looking at the handsome man reflected in the mirror, my heart twisted. He was going to meet another girl looking like that. The thought made me want to cry. I followed him all the way to a coffee shop. The girl was already there. Long hair, white dress, two delicate dimples when she smiled. She was exactly the type I used to envy when I was alive—gentle and elegant. They sat together, looking truly compatible. I felt like a pathetic voyeur, hiding in the corner, watching them chat. The girl was quite talkative; Caleb said little, occasionally offering a perfunctory response. My heart slowly sank. Maybe he’d quickly fall for this girl. Then, they’d get married, have children. My name, Elara, would soon be a forgotten chapter in his life.

The date ended quickly. Less than half an hour, start to finish. Caleb saw the girl into her car, then returned to his own with an expressionless face. I couldn’t read him. Was he pleased, or not? The car didn’t head home but drove out to the suburbs. Finally, it stopped in front of a quiet, unassuming spiritual retreat. I followed him out of the car, but as I tried to step through the entrance, an invisible force bounced me back. A golden aura enveloped the entire retreat, like an invisible wall to me. I couldn’t get in. I could only watch as Caleb walked inside. I floated frantically outside the door. Why was he here? To seek guidance for his love life? At the thought of that possibility, my essence began to flicker, and the air around me noticeably chilled. I don’t know how long it was before Caleb finally came out. His face was even darker than before, radiating a heavy gloom, as if he’d just been in a brawl. He was clutching a small, yellowed paper charm. I didn’t dare get too close, just followed him from a distance. Back home, he taped the charm to his bedroom door. Then, without a word, he walked into his study and closed the door. My heart was racing, filled with dread. Was that charm meant to banish me? Did he go to that spiritual retreat to find Elder Finn and get rid of me? Did he really… hate me that much? Couldn’t even tolerate my ghost? A massive wave of panic and hurt washed over me. I curled up in the corner of the living room couch, feeling a chilling cold for the first time. It turned out that even after death, a heart could still ache.

I sat in the living room all night. The next day, Caleb finally emerged from his study. He had heavy bags under his eyes. When he saw me, his gaze flickered away, a complicated mix of emotions in his eyes. He said nothing, just lit another stick of incense. I hesitated, but couldn’t resist the lure of “food,” so I floated over and inhaled a couple of breaths. My strength returned somewhat, and the ache in my heart lessened. Can’t be sad on an empty stomach, right? I floated to his side, wanting to see what he was up to. “Caleb, what’s wrong with you? What’s that charm for? Are you trying to get rid of me?” He ignored me. A moment later, he got up and went into the bathroom. The sound of water began. My curiosity was reignited. Heh, that charm on the bedroom door keeps me out, but the bathroom should be fair game, right? I brazenly floated into the bathroom, ready for a private viewing of my ex in the shower. Instead, I was met with a tightly drawn shower curtain. I was fuming. Guarding against me like I was a thief! I floated around the shower curtain and suddenly glimpsed his discarded pajamas and… underwear. A pair of black boxer briefs. A mischievous idea popped into my head. I let out a little ‘hehe,’ floated over, and scooped up his pajamas and—yes—his underwear, clutching them to my chest. “That’s what you get for not letting me see! I’ve got your clothes, let’s see you come out naked now!” I hummed triumphantly, holding his garments, and floated to the door. Just as I was about to go out and show off my spoils, a man’s voice, laced with gritted-teeth irritation, suddenly came from behind the shower curtain. That voice, I knew it all too well. He said— “Elara, are you done messing around?” “Give me back my briefs.”

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My fiancé dumped me after a mix-up with our health check-up results. We’d gone for a routine comprehensive health check-up before the wedding, and somehow, our phone numbers got swapped. So, his cancer diagnosis was sent to me, and my clean bill of health was sent to him. I hadn’t even had a chance to tell him the truth. When he showed up at my door with his entire family to break off the engagement. They demanded I return the wedding budget and compensate them for emotional distress. My usually kind prospective mother-in-law looked at me with utter contempt. “You jinx! If we hadn’t gone for that check-up, our family would have been doomed!” I returned the wedding budget and all the gifts Liam had given me during our relationship. Silently, I deleted the cancer diagnosis report from my phone. I was on the phone with my boyfriend, Liam, discussing our wedding plans. He sounded a bit hesitant. “Honestly, I don’t think we need such an expensive reception. We have a long life ahead, and plenty of other expenses will pop up. This is all for you, you know. Wouldn’t it be better to save that money and buy you a designer bag? Don’t you agree?” I felt a pang of annoyance. Ever since we got engaged, Liam had become incredibly stingy, and he always used the excuse that it was “for me,” putting me in a position where I felt obligated to agree, as if refusing would make me the villain. I was about to say something when I suddenly received a text message. I opened it to find a notification from the health center. 【Mr./Ms. Davis, your results from our health center are in. Your examination indicates mid-stage stomach cancer. We recommend you seek further medical review and treatment as soon as possible. We wish you a speedy recovery. For any questions, please call our center.】 How could I have cancer? I was too stunned to speak. Liam called out “Hello?” a few times from the other end of the line. Thinking I was upset, he continued, “Okay, we can go with your plan then, but your parents will have to cover the costs. My mom…” I cut him off. “Check your messages. I… I just sent you a screenshot.” I hung up abruptly and quickly called my parents to explain what happened. My parents dropped everything and rushed me to the health center to get the official results. Once there, after a quick check, we realized it was all a huge misunderstanding. Our phone numbers were just one digit off, and he’d accidentally entered my number during registration. Coupled with a clerical error in the system, the reports had been mixed up. So, it wasn’t me with cancer. It was Liam! My heart, which had just settled, tightened again. I reached for my phone to tell Liam, but then I noticed he hadn’t replied to the message I sent him earlier.

My parents drove my distraught self back to my apartment near the office. But my mind was a mess. Liam hadn’t replied. He must be researching treatment options and trying to figure out how to raise money for my supposed illness. He’d always been like that, always responsive to everything. I remembered one time I got my period in the middle of the night and had terrible cramps. I casually complained to him, and he showed up at my building with freshly brewed ginger tea. After that, I was careful about what I said, afraid he’d go overboard. Sigh! Why was I so impatient? I told him before even confirming the situation. Now, how was I going to delicately tell him that *he* was the one with cancer, not me? Before I could think it through, my dad patted my shoulder. “It’s okay, Clara. Stomach cancer isn’t untreatable. The doctor just said it can be managed, especially with that new treatment they mentioned, some kind of targeted therapy. Didn’t they say it’s very effective?” My mom nodded in agreement. “Yes, exactly. I always told you to keep your wealth under wraps, to see if he was truly after you or just your money, but now this involves a human life, it’s incredibly serious. We should just tell him the truth. We can cover the costs and make sure Liam gets the best treatment.” As she spoke, my dad picked up his phone, leveraging his network to find the best stomach cancer specialists. After a few calls, the experts reassured us, saying the situation wasn’t too severe, not to worry too much, and that the prognosis was good. Right, so many people get cancer these days. It’s not an insurmountable obstacle. And Liam was always so optimistic and cheerful; he’d definitely beat it. My mind was a jumble of thoughts. I imagined that when I told Liam, he’d hug me, overjoyed, perhaps even tear up, saying how lucky it was that it was him and not me. I nodded. “Okay. I’ll go see him tomorrow. We’ll take him directly to a top specialist to discuss treatment options. I’ll just figure out exactly what to say tonight.”

Early the next morning, my parents and I were still asleep when a knock sounded at the door. My dad opened it, only to find Liam and Brenda, along with a group of people I didn’t recognize but who, judging by their appearance, were Liam’s relatives. Everyone looked grim, especially Liam and Brenda. They had worried expressions and dark circles under their eyes, clearly having been up all night. I knew it. He hadn’t replied to my messages because he was busy trying to raise money from his relatives. Tears and laughter mingled as I rushed forward, wanting to embrace Liam. But before I could touch him, Brenda pushed me away with a dark look on her face and started ranting like a machine gun. “You cancer hag! Stay away from my son! Don’t infect him with your disease!” “I thought she was such a good girl. She looks decent on the outside, but she’s rotten to the core!” “You jinx! If we hadn’t gone for that check-up, our family would have been doomed!” “It’s not just about you dying, you almost dragged my son into a second marriage, did you know that?” These words hit me like thunderclaps, making my ears ring. But Brenda wasn’t done yet. “I’m here today with my son to call off this engagement! If you dare to refuse, I’ll take this to court and let the whole world know you’re clinging to my son even when you’re on your deathbed!” My parents and I froze, especially me. The smile on my face instantly stiffened. Brenda had always been so gentle and kind to me before. I used to think I was incredibly lucky to have found such a wonderful boyfriend and such a good prospective mother-in-law. I even told my best friend, “Liam’s mom is so open-minded; she’ll definitely approve of our marriage.”

My parents’ faces were livid with anger. My mom held my dad back, afraid he’d lose his temper and physically lash out. My mom, in her usual good-natured way, said, “Let’s talk this through calmly. Even if you want to break off the engagement…” Brenda cut my parents off. “Who wants to talk calmly with you? Don’t even think about clinging to my family!” I ignored Brenda and turned to look at Liam. After all, he was the one I was supposed to spend my life with. Brenda was undoubtedly upset after hearing about my supposed illness, but Liam just kept his head down, refusing to look at me. I still wanted to give Liam a chance. After so many years together, so many wonderful memories—as long as he was willing to stand by me, I wouldn’t care what Brenda said. At worst, I just wouldn’t associate with her in the future. So, I spoke in a hoarse voice, “Stomach cancer can be treated, and Liam and I, after all…” Brenda heard me and, with a knowing look, cut me off. “I knew you’d try to cling to my son! I don’t know if cancer can be cured, but I do know that cancer can be hereditary. Even if you’re cured, it’ll still be in your genes.” “My son is the only male in our family to carry on the name. If he marries you and has an unhealthy grandchild, what will I do?” “Before, I was just putting on a show for you, because you were an only child from a prosperous background. I thought marrying you would help my son in the future, and your parents could provide financial and practical support!” “But who would’ve thought, after all that careful selection, we’d end up with a cancer hag!” “I was dissatisfied with you long ago! A girl who’s constantly drinking milk tea, eating takeout, always wanting to eat out! Well, serves you right now, even heaven is punishing you for your lifestyle, giving you cancer!”

Liam stood there as if he wasn’t even present, still staring at his shoes. I found it utterly ridiculous. All my fantasies from yesterday now seemed like the most pathetic jokes. I ignored Brenda’s incessant rambling and just stared at Liam. “Is that what you think too? Are you here to break off the engagement?” Liam knew he couldn’t hide any longer. He looked up at me, his eyes devoid of any former affection, and said coldly, “Yes!” I stumbled, and my parents quickly steadied me from behind. “Liam, have you forgotten what you promised me?” Liam scoffed. “Clara and I are only engaged, not married. I have no legal responsibilities or obligations to her. Besides, I’m not looking for someone to take care of; I want a supportive partner, a warm harbor to care for *me* and *my mother*, to make my life and work free from worrying nuisances!” “I’m a normal man; of course, I’d put myself first. Can you honestly say that if *I* were the one with cancer today, you wouldn’t break off the engagement?” But the truth was, we wouldn’t have. After all, I had just been thinking about how to tell you, how to get you treatment, how to care for you. I never once considered abandoning you. My heart shattered into a million pieces, yet I also felt incredibly fortunate to see his true colors now. I smiled and nodded. “Fine, then the engagement is off. We’ll go our separate ways from now on.” Liam probably hadn’t expected me to agree so readily. He looked a bit awkward, then habitually tried to morally blackmail me. “And you talk about loving me? If you truly loved me, you wouldn’t drag me down. I just bought a house; how could I possibly have spare money to pay for your cancer treatment?”

As soon as he said that, Liam quickly fell silent, but I’d already heard it. I couldn’t help but look up. “I only told you about my ‘cancer’ yesterday. How could you have bought a house today?” It wasn’t like me to be so curious. Liam and I had planned to buy a house together after the wedding. I had always discouraged him from buying a house beforehand, intending to surprise him by having him move into the spacious apartment I’d already bought. Liam looked embarrassed. Perhaps out of habit from our years of dating, he still explained after I asked. “The house was bought a few months ago, not yesterday.” But Brenda felt no awkwardness at all. Shielding Liam, she said with a hint of pride, “What are you afraid of? Our buying a house is our business. Why should we have to tell you?” “Besides, do you think we’re stupid? Buying a house after marriage makes it joint marital property. The moment you suggested that, I immediately saw through your intentions. We paid the down payment right away and put the house in *my* name.” Ah, yes. Property acquired before marriage. Then they’d have expected me to cover the renovation costs, and if things went south, I’d end up with nothing in the property division. What a deeply calculating mind. I smiled bitterly and nodded. Now, I wasn’t sad at all. After all, not only was I healthy and cancer-free, but I’d also avoided marrying into such a conniving family. My parents couldn’t take it anymore. My dad stormed over and flung the front door open. “Then you can leave. Don’t make a scene in my house.” Brenda sneered. “Your house? This is the landlord’s place! You’d better return it quickly. Don’t go dying in someone else’s rental; that would be incredibly bad luck!” The assembled relatives burst into laughter, as if Brenda had just told the funniest joke.

I wasn’t angry, and I couldn’t be bothered to explain that this was, in fact, my own apartment. After all, these people were strangers to me now. Why should I get angry at a bunch of strangers? Still, I didn’t understand why they were still here. Brenda stood for a moment, seeing that my parents and I weren’t “playing along,” and decided she couldn’t wait any longer. She spoke directly, “That wedding budget we gave you for the engagement last time? You *must* return it to me. Don’t think about using my family’s money to treat your illness.” So, it was about that $26,000 wedding budget. My dad didn’t waste time. He pulled out his phone and transferred $26,000 directly to Liam. “Now, get out!” “Not enough! There’s also the money for the banquet! We didn’t get married, and ultimately, it’s your daughter’s fault for being sick. You can’t let us lose money; you wasted our family’s funds!” My dad scoffed, pulled out his phone, and transferred another $7,000. “Is that enough? The venue you picked would’ve cost at most $4,100. Here’s $7,000; now get out.” Brenda stared at her phone for a long time, counting the money several times. Once she confirmed it was all there, she still wouldn’t leave. She nudged Liam, who then snapped out of his daze and spoke, “The rings, bracelets, bags, clothes, and shoes I gave you during our relationship – you have to return those too!” Brenda and the relatives behind her nodded in agreement. “Exactly, those are all good things! You’re going to die anyway, what good are they to you?” “Yeah, we can give them to his next girlfriend!” Brenda also nodded. “To be honest, yesterday, when I found out you were gravely ill, I immediately contacted the matchmaker to recommend some girls for my son. We’re just waiting to arrange meetings. It wouldn’t do to go empty-handed on the first date, so those items would make perfect gifts.” “I honestly don’t care about those things.” At my signal, Brenda and Liam started taking things from a box, item by item, confirming whether they were indeed gifts from Liam. It took a long time. In the end, they even packed away a small collectible figurine. Once I saw they had finished packing, I couldn’t take it anymore. I grabbed a broom and literally swept them out the door.

After they left, my dad said angrily, “Clara, don’t tell anyone about Liam’s cancer. Don’t bother with him. He made his own bed; he’ll have to lie in it.” I hummed in agreement, stubbornly deleting the health report from my phone. But secretly, I planned to wait a few days, let things cool down, and then tell him, or at least inform the health center to contact him. I figured that was the extent of my goodwill. A few days later, before I had a chance to reveal Liam’s cancer diagnosis, he and his mother showed up again. This time, they didn’t bring a crowd of relatives for intimidation. Instead, they brought a bespectacled, scholarly-looking man. I didn’t open the door. I frowned at the video doorbell. “What do you want now?” The man with glasses stepped in front of the camera and cleared his throat. “Hello, Ms. Davis. My name is Sterling. I’m the attorney Mr. Hayes has retained. We’re here today to request repayment for the expenses incurred during your relationship. We have a detailed list. Please open the door so we can discuss this civilly. If you refuse, we’ll have no choice but to take legal action.” Liam nodded too. “Clara, you’re going to die anyway. I invested that money in my future wife. Since you won’t be my wife, I need it back.” Brenda laughed. “Yes! Instead of giving that money to you for your illness, it’d be better for my son to use it for his mortgage! I’m telling you, if you don’t return it, I’ll sue you, and you’ll die in prison!” Lunatics! They were truly lunatics. Fine! Let’s tally it all up. Just don’t come crying to me afterward. I didn’t open the door. Instead, I spoke into the intercom. “Then you’ll have to wait. I’m also getting my lawyer. You can come in once my lawyer arrives.” Brenda scoffed. “You should save what little money you have for your cancer treatment, not for a lawyer!” But I said no more after that. The three of them had no choice but to wait in the hallway for half an hour, sweating profusely from the heat. It wasn’t until I called my parents’ company’s legal team, and six senior attorneys arrived in full force, that I finally allowed Liam and his companions inside.

nce inside, Liam’s group was sweltering, especially Mr. Sterling, the lawyer in the suit jacket, who looked on the verge of heatstroke. But he still dutifully handed me a stack of papers. Brenda and Liam, meanwhile, stared at my formidable legal team, whispering, “Where did she get all these lawyers? They’re probably just homeless people she hired to pretend!” I quickly scanned the papers. They listed petty expenses. Takeout he ordered for me, movies he treated me to, drinks he bought, and even that ginger tea I’d remembered—it was all meticulously recorded. The ginger tea alone was listed at $2, with a $7 delivery fee for the middle of the night. All in all, beyond the roughly $8,000 in actual expenses, there was $21,000 for emotional distress and another $21,000 for wasted youth, totaling over $50,000. I nodded. “I’m willing to pay this $50,000, but only if you return everything I gave you!” Liam and Brenda exchanged glances, then quickly nodded. Liam then spoke, dismissively, “The things you gave me were just fakes, worthless. $14,000 should be enough, right?” I shook my head. Probably not enough, actually. But I didn’t need to say anything. My legal team stepped forward with their evidence. “Ms. Davis, Mr. and Mrs. Davis anticipated this situation, so they had us prepare everything in advance. Please confirm if it’s all here.” I gave a perfunctory “Hmm.” “It’s fine, whatever.” My legal team handed the evidence to Liam. His face grew darker and darker. “How is this possible? You’re lying! Everything you gave me was fake; how could it be so expensive?” Liam looked utterly shocked, but quickly regained his composure. “You must have cancer and are deliberately trying to deceive me, trying to use my money for your treatment.” Liam’s face registered disbelief, but he quickly returned to his normal expression. “You must have cancer and are deliberately trying to swindle me, just wanting my money to pay for your treatment.” So, that was the root of it. I smiled. “Actually, there’s something else I’ve been hiding from you. You’ve always thought I was the one with cancer, but that’s not true.” I recovered a photo from my phone’s trash bin, a picture I’d taken of Liam’s cancer diagnosis report. “Actually, you’re the one with cancer, not me.” Liam and Brenda snatched my phone, their expressions instantly changing. “How is that possible?”

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It was the thirtieth day of our cold war. Serena, my wife, suggested a trip together to mend our relationship. But the moment we landed, she snapped my ID card in half, smashed my phone, and abandoned me on a deserted island to die. Someone asked if she’d gone too far. She just caressed her belly, a look of disdain on her face. “It’s his own fault for being so petty. I just wanted to use IVF to give Derek a child before he died, and he threw a fit, demanding a divorce.” “The baby’s due in eight months. The island has fresh water and food; he won’t starve. It’s just a little taste of hardship for him.” Eight months later, Serena, cradling her newborn son, felt utterly content. For the first time, she asked her assistant, Mark: “It’s been so long. Hasn’t he caused a fuss about wanting to come back?” She had no idea I died on the very first day I landed on that island. The next thing I knew, my soul was in Serena’s delivery room. Serena, her face pale, gently held the baby, her eyes brimming with maternal love. Her childhood friend, Derek, wiped the sweat from Serena’s forehead, his gratitude overflowing. “Serena, thank you. We have a son now.” I felt a little dazed. So, I’d been dead for this long already. She and Derek’s child had even been born. Serena was just wheeled out when a crowd of people swarmed around, celebrating the baby’s arrival, cheering and showering her with gifts and congratulations. “Serena, this baby is absolutely adorable! He’s the spitting image of you and Derek. He’ll be a heartthrob when he grows up!” These were the same people who used to call me ‘brother-in-law’ with deference, who’d vehemently claimed Serena’s IVF was wrong and accused Derek of faking his illness. Oh, right. They only sucked up to me before because I was Serena’s husband. Serena’s lips curved into a smile, but her gaze kept darting towards the end of the hallway. She picked up her phone and checked it. Then, she frowned, asking Mark, “Didn’t I tell you to buy him a new phone? Why hasn’t he contacted me these past few months? And he hasn’t even complained about wanting to come back?” Mark lied without batting an eye. “Mr. Julian keeps cursing you and Mr. Derek, saying he doesn’t want any contact with you.” The furrow between Serena’s brows deepened. “So stubborn. His temper is truly pig-headed.” “Tell him I’ve had the baby; the mission is accomplished. If he sincerely calls to apologize and agrees to be the baby’s godfather, I’ll bring him back.” I gave a self-deprecating laugh. She still had no idea I was long dead. Nine months ago, Serena aborted *our* baby to make room for her and Derek’s IVF child. She claimed Derek was dying soon and wanted to leave him a child. My spirits crushed, my will broken, I asked for a divorce. Serena gave me the cold shoulder for a month. The first time she initiated contact, she suggested we go on a trip to mend our relationship, promising to abort the IVF baby when we returned. I believed her, only to be left on a deserted island to die. Coming back to myself, Derek said pitifully, “Serena, if Julian comes back, he won’t hit me again, will he? He can hurt me, but please, don’t let him hurt our baby!” He lowered his head, adjusting the angle to specially reveal the tiny scar on his forehead. That scar was from when Derek had deliberately slammed his head against the wall to get that cut when he tried to provoke me, after I’d found out about Serena’s IVF. Because of that, Serena hated me, convinced I’d even bully a terminally ill patient. Serena was devastated, her voice sharp with anger. “If he dares lay a hand on you or our son, I’ll make sure he never comes back!” The others burst into laughter. “Serena, you’re still as protective of Derek as ever. Now that the baby’s born, I remember you and Derek had a childhood pact. You two should be together!” “That’s right, Serena! A child needs a complete mother’s and father’s love most of all! Julian’s so petty and extreme; I’m truly afraid he might harm the baby!” Serena didn’t respond to that. She just clenched her fingers, then looked up at Mark. “Did you send the message? What did he reply?” The next second, Serena’s phone, which was lying beside her, rang. Her eyes lit up. She thought it was me, a triumphant smirk playing on her lips. “Julian, you finally…” The voice on the other end froze her. “Excuse me, are you Julian’s wife? We were wondering if you have time to come to St. Jude’s Chapel to pick up a longevity lock.” Serena countered, “What longevity lock?” The person sighed. “A year ago, Mr. Julian came to our chapel, bowing on his knees with every step, wishing for his seriously ill wife to recover. Later, he returned, saying his wife was well and even pregnant. Our abbot said he had a profound connection with the divine and specially wanted to give him a longevity lock to wish his child peace and safety. But we haven’t been able to reach him for months.” Back then, when Serena was diagnosed with late-stage heart failure, I tried everything to treat her, even begging the heavens for mercy, praying on my knees until my forehead was raw and bleeding. Later, I returned to the chapel, full of joy, believing we had overcome our difficulties and welcomed a new dawn. But in the end, I lost everything. I had nothing. I clutched my chest, a sharp pain radiating from my artificial heart, and let out a bitter laugh. Turns out, even a synthetic heart can ache. The others were stunned by the news. “I can’t believe Julian was so devoted. When you had heart failure, we all thought he’d run away, afraid of the responsibility. It seems we misunderstood Julian…” Suddenly, Serena also clutched her heart, her teeth, white as seashells, biting her red lip. After regaining her composure, she scoffed. “No need. A longevity lock? Just throw it away.” She hung up. She lowered her gaze, gritting her teeth. “This is the difference between Julian and Derek.” “Julian only performs superficial gestures, but Derek directly saved my life! If it weren’t for Derek giving me his heart, I’d be dead already!” “Derek won’t live much longer because of it, but Julian? He only knows jealousy, even causing a fuss about divorce over such a minor thing!” My mouth tasted bitter. I was the one who donated my heart to Serena. The doctor told me that even if I paid a high price for an artificial heart transplant and took medication daily, with current technology, I’d only live another year or two. I didn’t regret it; instead, I was grateful for the time. But when I woke from my coma, I found Serena tearfully thanking Derek for his sacrifice. I tried to explain, time and again, but she just dismissed it as a pathetic attempt to mimic Derek’s sacrifice. It wasn’t until Serena became pregnant that our relationship softened. All because when Derek came to visit Serena, he clutched his chest, his face etched with sorrow, and said, “It’s a shame. I don’t have long left. I probably won’t be able to have my own children, or even see yours, Serena.” Serena immediately and unequivocally decided to give Derek a child. That led to the subsequent tragedy. Listening to Serena’s accusations, the others exchanged glances, and the air immediately thickened with tension. To ease the atmosphere, they all laughed and switched on the TV. “Serena, you just gave birth, don’t get too angry. Just relax a bit.” Coincidentally, a news report came on: “A skeleton of a male was discovered on a deserted island in the Pacific during a drone patrol. This marks a new milestone in drone technology…” Serena suddenly looked up, her pupils contracting. “Which island?”

Someone meekly said, “Serena, I heard the island you sent Julian to is somewhere around that coordinate…” Serena’s brows furrowed, nearly tying themselves in knots. Derek’s eyes flashed. He gently patted Serena’s back. “There are many similar islands, aren’t there? But that skeleton looks remarkably complete, almost like a medical model.” Serena snapped back to reality and scoffed. “Ha, Julian used to fake heart conditions to deceive people. Now he’s even using a skeleton model to scare me? He’s truly enjoying himself too much!” She turned and instructed Mark, “From now on, you are not allowed to agree to Julian’s unreasonable requests! I told you to just give him basic survival supplies, and you still played along with his nonsense!” Mark was drenched in cold sweat, nodding in affirmation. I knew why he was feeling guilty. After tossing me onto the deserted island, Serena had flown off in the helicopter without a second thought. My body and mind were exhausted, and my artificial heart couldn’t bear the strain. I had just pulled out my medication, intending to take it. But that assistant deliberately kicked my life-saving medication, sending it tumbling into the ocean. He’d even sneered, “Ms. Serena is right; you really are a drama queen, still acting like you have a heart condition!” “You, you’ll spend the rest of your life on this deserted island. Ms. Serena and Mr. Derek are having a baby; why would she ever come back for you!” After saying that, he led everyone away from the deserted island with a look of disgust. In the end, I painfully clawed at the ground, my fingernails bloody and torn, my heart stopped, and I died miserably in a foreign land. My body was weathered by wind and sun, torn by scavengers. Even now, the sensation of my heart being squeezed seems vivid before my eyes. Serena’s mood suddenly worsened for some reason. Her expression turned cold, and she rolled over, pulling the covers over herself, beginning to dismiss her visitors. “You can all leave now; I’m tired.” Everyone exchanged confused glances and left the hospital room one by one. Only Derek remained, cooing at the baby and gently holding Serena’s hand, which lay outside the covers with an IV drip. Because it was a natural birth, Serena was able to get out of bed and be discharged in just two days. Derek followed Serena home step by step, cradling the baby and making a pitiful promise. “Serena, I know you’ve hired a postpartum nurse, but I am the baby’s biological father. I have a responsibility to take care of you and our son.” Afraid she wouldn’t agree, he quickly added, “I’m very understanding; I won’t touch anything in the house, and Julian will never find out I’ve been here!” Serena’s fingers, clutching her purse strap, turned white from the force. She seemed conflicted. Derek then clutched his chest, tears welling in his eyes as he weakly said, “Serena, I don’t have long to live. Opportunities to be with you and our son are few. Can you give me this chance?” After a long silence, Serena finally nodded slowly. I watched Derek’s face twist into a sly, triumphant smirk. I lowered my head and gave a bitter laugh. Serena and I used to have a pact: no matter what, we would never bring outsiders into our home. But now, she was letting Derek walk right in. It seemed he was always the exception. As soon as the door opened, the little dog at home rushed forward to welcome Serena. Upon sensing a stranger, he immediately barked a warning, standing protectively in front of Serena. The baby, startled by the barking, began to cry loudly. Serena frowned. “Buddy, settle down!” Derek, however, smiled gently, though his eyes held no warmth. “It’s alright, Serena, I like dogs too.” With that, he crouched down and ruffled Buddy’s head. Buddy was usually gentle; his barking was just his way of deterring strangers, so he didn’t bite Derek’s hand. Serena couldn’t help but sigh. “Derek, you’re still as kind as ever.” Only I saw clearly that Derek’s palm was clutching a handful of Buddy’s yellow-white fur. How much pain Buddy must have been in! Hearing Buddy whimper in pain, Serena’s face changed, and she instantly grew angry. “This dog is just like its owner—an ungrateful, disloyal creature that can’t be tamed!” She pulled Derek away, cradling the baby. Buddy was still whimpering, squatting by the door, biting the bouncy ball I used to play with him, seemingly waiting for me. My nose stung. Buddy was just a little stray, but Serena and I had rescued him together when we were dating. He’d just been abandoned after birth, and Serena and I had taken turns staying up all night, feeding him milk, nursing him until he was grown. He was like our own child. He still didn’t know that his daddy was never coming back. Upstairs, Serena handed the baby to the postpartum nurse and then called for Mr. Henderson, instructing him carefully. “Mr. Henderson, Derek can’t have anything spicy, and no onions, ginger, or garlic. Please tell the kitchen to be mindful. Also, he only sleeps on silk sheets; otherwise, he gets rashes…” Serena rattled on, remembering Derek’s preferences as if they’d been married for ten years. I used to be jealous of her and Derek’s childhood connection, but now it seemed I had thought too little of it. Derek, however, pretended not to know these things. He used the excuse of needing the restroom to sneak into Serena and my bedroom. Buddy, seeing the stranger enter his parents’ room, tilted his head and followed Derek upstairs. Derek sneered at our wedding photo on the table, picking up a marker and drawing all over my face. He jumped when he felt Buddy nipping at his pant leg. The next second, he lashed out with a violent kick. Buddy, a small ten-pound dog, was sent flying against the wall by the heavy kick, then fell to the floor. His limbs twitched a few times, blood spreading from the corner of his mouth, and he whined softly. I was furious. I lunged towards Buddy, but my soul only passed through his body. Derek’s pale, gaunt face twisted into a crazed expression. He scoffed. “Loyal dog, are we? Then I’ll send you to your owner in heaven!” I froze. Derek actually knew I was dead. Could Mark be working for him? Recalling Mark’s disgust for me and his attempts to slander me, I clenched my fists. Just then, Serena, hearing the commotion, walked into the room. She immediately saw Buddy still faintly twitching by the wall.

Derek instantly feigned tears. “I’m so sorry, Serena! The dog bit me, and my heart suddenly ached. I accidentally kicked him. It’s all my carelessness! The dog won’t be hurt, will he?” Serena pressed her lips together, forcing herself to look away from Buddy. “As long as you’re alright. How are you feeling right now? Where did he bite you?” “Pets carry so many germs; it’s not good for the baby. I’ve wanted to have him sent away for a long time. You’ve actually done me a great favor.” With that, she ordered Mr. Henderson to take the dog to the vet, a look of disgust on her face. Derek, however, wasn’t satisfied, his lips twisting into a pout. But he quickly composed himself and tugged on Serena’s sleeve. “As long as the dog’s okay. If Julian found out, he’d probably tear me to shreds. I couldn’t even pay him back if I died!” Anyone who didn’t know better would think I’d somehow bullied him in the past. But Serena’s eyes filled with concern, and she gently cooed, “If he dares do that, I’ll make sure he knows what it means to wish for death.” Derek paused, then tentatively asked, “Serena, my parents want to see our little one a few more times. Will you come with me to visit them tomorrow?” Serena nodded. “Of course. The child will eventually be raised by your parents anyway.” Derek’s chest heaved. He reached out to grab Serena’s hand, whining, “Serena, why are you becoming so distant with me? We—” But Serena pulled away, her tone somewhat cold. “The guest room is ready. You should get some sleep. The baby’s been restless these past few days, and you haven’t been sleeping well either.” But it was Serena who lay awake all night. She kept pulling out her phone, opening our SnapChat chat. When she saw my last message was from eight months ago—my reply of “Okay” to her invitation for a trip abroad—she grew restless. I worried for Buddy’s health, but my soul couldn’t stray too far from Serena, so I could only stare at Buddy’s dog food and toys. The next moment, Serena suddenly walked over to me. My heart skipped a beat. I saw her crouch down and open Buddy’s favorite can of dog food. Then she opened my SnapChat chat. “Julian, I’ve handled everything. Come back. Buddy misses you very much.” Serena had rarely softened like this. This time, I didn’t instantly reply. I could never reply to her messages again. Just then, Mr. Henderson opened the door and returned. Serena saw his empty hands and asked, “Where’s the dog?” Mr. Henderson hesitated. “Six ribs were broken, piercing his heart. He didn’t make it to the hospital… Miss, should we have him cremated?” My heart clenched in agony. When we named our puppy, Serena had said so sweetly, “Of course, we’ll call him Buddy! We’re his parents in his little world, the closest people he has. We’ll protect him and keep him safe always!” Buddy, Buddy… yet he couldn’t even live a safe life. Serena froze, her fingertips trembling. After a long moment, she finally found her voice. “Yes.” “Mr. Henderson, please find me another dog that looks exactly like him. In a few days, when Julian comes home and doesn’t see Buddy, he’ll definitely cause a scene again.” My heart spasmed. She had money; she could find a similar dog. But our feelings? They were irreplaceable. The next day, Serena seemed miles away on the way to Derek’s place, barely patting the crying baby’s back as a mere formality. She pursed her lips, messaging Mr. Henderson, urging him, “Haven’t you found one yet? Hurry up.” When she looked up again, Serena was stunned by the decor of Derek’s house.

I looked at the scene before me and found it absurd. The surroundings were decorated with streamers. A red carpet was laid on the floor. A Bluetooth speaker blared a proposal song. And most striking of all, a banner directly facing the front door read: “Serena, please marry me!” The house was packed with Serena’s and Derek’s friends and family, all looking at the two of them with eager eyes. Serena tightened her grip on the baby, who struggled and cried out loud. Derek’s father chuckled. “Serena, you and Derek had a childhood pact, a promise of marriage. Someone from Julian’s ordinary background simply isn’t a match for you. Now that you’ve had the baby, isn’t it time you married Derek?” Derek immediately dropped to one knee, pulling out a sparkling diamond ring. “Serena,” he declared, his voice full of feigned emotion, “I know I don’t have long to live, but I want to give our child a complete father’s love. I want him to know he was born from love, not some nameless, illegitimate child! Please marry me. I want to protect you and our son until my dying breath!” Seeing this, the crowd, as if on cue, began to loudly chant, “Say yes! Marry him!” My heart felt bitter. So, it had come to this. But Serena’s face darkened. She smacked the diamond ring out of Derek’s hand. “Derek, are you crazy?” Then, without another word, she shoved the baby into Derek’s parents’ arms and stormed out. The atmosphere instantly turned awkward. Derek’s face flushed alternately green and pale. He rushed after her. He grabbed Serena’s arm, his eyes bloodshot. “Why can’t you marry me? Serena, refusing you back then was just my pride. Weren’t you with Julian just to spite me? What’s gotten into you now?!” Serena yanked her arm away, her gaze more resolute than ever. “Julian would be furious! If another man even showed up near me, he’d get so jealous, so petty and stubborn.” “I had an IVF baby with you, and he’s already furious about that. If he found out I accepted your proposal, he’d never forgive me!” Hearing that, I felt a pang of surprise. Derek gritted his teeth, taking a deep breath. The next moment, he clutched his chest, struggling to speak. “But, Serena, what if this is my dying wish? I don’t have much time left. Please, just agree to marry me, just a wedding. After I’m gone, you can still be with Julian. I won’t hold you back for long!” Serena’s eyes flickered with internal struggle. She instinctively reached out, wanting to comfort Derek. Just as her hand was about to touch his chest, she seemed to snap out of a dream. “I’m sorry, Derek. Even if it’s your dying wish, I can’t.” “I know you’re my benefactor, but giving you a child has already repaid you. I hope you won’t overstep.” With that, she turned and walked away. On the way home, she stared intently at the message she had sent last night, which had fallen silent as a stone. Serena irritably questioned Mark, who was following behind her. “Are you sure Julian’s phone can connect to the internet? Why is he still not replying to my messages?” Mark continued to lie. “Ah, well, the people patrolling the deserted island told me Mr. Julian is doing just fine; he’s just deliberately ignoring you.” Serena was furious. “Useless! Go book me a plane ticket, now!” Mark seemed flustered, trying desperately to stop her. “But you’re still recovering from childbirth… Shouldn’t you at least tell Mr. Derek about this?” Serena gave him a scrutinizing look, her voice icy. “What does it have to do with him? Who exactly is your boss?” Soon, Serena boarded the plane. When she finally arrived at the island, fueled by rage, my bare bones still lay exposed on the beach, my clothes long since tattered and ripped by the sea winds. Serena walked towards the makeshift wooden cabin. *Snap*. She stepped on it without a second thought, and I heard a sickening *snap* as my tibia bone broke beneath her heel. Her gaze was suddenly caught by something glinting. Disbelieving, she slowly turned her head. There, on the skeleton’s ring finger, was a gleaming silver men’s wedding band.

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Julian got a girl pregnant one drunken night. By the time I found out, she was already six months along. He told me to keep the baby, and that everything between us would go back to how it was. I shook my head, stubbornly asking him: “Me or the baby, who do you choose?” That day, he remained silent for a long time, unable to give me an answer. But after I disappeared, he regretted it. Married to Julian for five years, I never imagined we’d end this way. At the hospital entrance, Julian was tenderly supporting a young, beautiful girl down the steps. I stood not far away, my eyes meeting Julian’s, which were filled with a tenderness I hadn’t seen in a long time. He flinched, his gaze quickly darting away from mine. The heavily pregnant girl beside him also looked my way, her eyes instantly welling up with tears. After safely getting her into the car and whispering a few careful words, Julian finally walked towards me. His steps were calm and composed, completely lacking the panic I expected after being caught. He first touched my hand, which was cold as ice, holding it tightly in his palm. “Why are you at the hospital? Are you not feeling well?” He spoke with concern, reaching out to touch my forehead. I pulled away. “Who is she?” Julian didn’t answer my question. Instead, he pulled me into a comforting hug. “Someone unimportant. I’ll explain everything when we get home, okay?” His gentle words, at that moment, finally brought tears to my eyes. I stubbornly lifted my head, desperate for an answer. If he just said it, I would believe him. Julian sighed softly, then slowly wiped the tears from my eyes. “The baby is mine.” My tears froze on my face. I felt like I’d forgotten how to breathe. I bit my lip until it bled, then struggled free from his embrace, stepping back, one pace at a time. It was then that a hint of anger finally crossed Julian’s face. He pulled me close again, looking at me with pained eyes. “Nora, you can blame me, but don’t hurt yourself.” I couldn’t understand why he was acting so loving after doing something like this. As we stood in silent confrontation, The girl from the car got out. “Get back in!” Julian’s voice was cold, devoid of any warmth. The girl looked timidly at him but didn’t leave, a newfound determination in her eyes. “Miss Shen, Julian and I aren’t what you think. This baby was an accident.” She finished with a bitter smile. “If I could, I’d want him gone more than anyone.” My vision blurred with tears, so I couldn’t clearly see Julian’s expression. But knowing him as I did, I could sense that his initial coldness had already softened. “Enough! Stop talking!” Jealousy and resentment surged through me. I screamed, my voice breaking. The girl flinched, swaying, almost falling, but Julian quickly caught her in his arms. I stared at the scene, a thought flashing through my mind. I lunged towards them. Just as I was about to touch the girl’s swollen belly, a powerful force shoved me away. I landed on the ground, lifting my scraped palm, and managed a bitter laugh. Julian looked at his outstretched hand in disbelief, frozen. That day, Julian left the six-month pregnant girl and took me home. But I knew there was no future for us.

Back home, Julian tried to explain. I sat on the bed, motionless, for a long time. He, meanwhile, stood on my room’s balcony, smoking cigarette after cigarette all night. I knew he was trying to make me feel sorry for him, torturing himself. He always knew my weaknesses. As dawn broke, Julian turned and came inside, walking over to me. “Hungry? What do you want to eat? I’ll make it.” I stopped him with a hoarse voice. “Julian, we need to talk.” Julian’s steps faltered. He didn’t turn around for a long time. I knew he understood my personality. I cared about this kind of thing. A lot. Even if he was drunk that night, even if his encounter with that girl was unintentional, I couldn’t forgive him. So, Julian kept it a secret. But no one expected that the stranger he’d met just once would get pregnant. Due to a unique medical condition, she couldn’t terminate the pregnancy. Which led to this situation. Julian eventually left. He was afraid to face what I was about to say. I knew he loved me. If he didn’t, we wouldn’t have been together for so many years. If he didn’t, he wouldn’t have spoiled me into someone who easily got emotional and cried at the drop of a hat. For the next week, Julian didn’t come home. But he still meticulously asked Maria, our housekeeper, every day how I was doing. Maria tried to persuade me: “Madam, you and Mr. Sterling are the most loving couple I’ve ever seen. Just talk things out. “Mr. Sterling, he’s lost so much weight recently.” Maria had been with us for years, and she had never seen Julian and me have a single argument. Even Julian’s mother, who had been displeased with me in the early years, gradually accepted me as her daughter-in-law because Julian and I were so happy together. My phone rang. It was Julian calling. “Nora, Julian’s completely wasted. Could you come pick him up?” “Don’t bother with him!” After hanging up, my inner frustration only grew. Julian’s retreating figure, seemingly hunched, kept replaying in my mind. I still couldn’t bring myself to leave him there alone. After a struggle, I grabbed my car keys. And walked out purposefully.

The VIP room door was ajar. I stood outside, not going in. Julian was indeed drunk, sprawled out on the sofa, completely without dignity. In front of him stood the heavily pregnant girl. One of Julian’s friends looked embarrassed. “Selena, Nora wouldn’t come, and Julian wouldn’t leave, so I had to call you.” The girl smiled faintly and helped Julian lift one arm. He abruptly pushed her away. A few gasps pulled Julian out of his drunken stupor. He looked at the woman in front of him, a smile more painful than a grimace on his face. “Selena, it’s all because of you. Nora doesn’t want me anymore…” Julian kept repeating the same phrase, then started looking for more alcohol. Everyone tried to stop him, but he grabbed a bottle and started guzzling it down like he had a death wish. Suddenly, Selena snatched the bottle from his hand and smashed it on the floor. The room fell silent instantly. Even Julian, who had been throwing a drunken tantrum, stared blankly at her. “Julian, you’re scaring our baby with all this shouting. “Get up. I’m tired. Take me home.” Julian, who practically ruled the city, had never been ordered around like this by anyone except me. Everyone assumed he was furious and held their breath. But in that oppressive silence, Julian said nothing. He slowly got up, picked up his jacket, and quietly followed Selena out. They left together. I hid in the corner, watching the man and woman in front. Suddenly, I laughed. But that laugh was laced with a bitter taste. I followed their taxi to an upscale apartment building. I watched Julian get out of the car and go upstairs with the girl. A light flickered on in one of the higher floors. I sat in my car all night, and Julian never came out. At seven in the morning, he walked back in, carrying breakfast. I watched that incredibly familiar figure. And quietly drove away.

I called Julian back, but I didn’t mention divorce. I looked at the man, who had lost a lot of weight, and quickly averted my gaze. “I didn’t pick you up last night. Where did you stay?” Julian’s fingers trembled slightly. After a moment, he said: “I stayed at the office.” I couldn’t quite describe the feeling in my heart—not much bitterness, But mostly disappointment. When did Julian start lying to me? The man who once promised to be honest with me forever had changed. I didn’t expose him because, to me, it no longer mattered. “She, how many months along is she?” Julian’s voice paused for a few seconds, as if he couldn’t bear to hurt me. “Almost seven months.” After saying that, he knelt before me, burying his head deeply in my lap. His tears soaked my dress. “Nora, I’m sorry. Please don’t leave me.” In my memory, Julian had never cried before. Now, his sobs were violent. Watching him cry, my heart ached too. But I knew, at this moment, I couldn’t soften. “Arrange for me to meet that girl.” We met at Selena’s apartment. Julian waited for me outside the door. Selena gently stroked her belly, her eyes filled with anticipation for the baby. “That night, the lights were off, and I was really terrified. “But the next day, when I saw Julian lying beside me, I actually felt a moment of relief.” Selena chuckled as she spoke. She looked up at me, still maintaining that gentle, lovely demeanor. “Miss Shen, Julian’s and my baby is almost due. Why don’t you just let us be?” With Julian not present, the girl in front of me seemed to transform. Honestly, I wasn’t too surprised. Because the night I went to find Julian, Selena had glanced towards the door. I knew she had seen me that day. She slowly stood up and pushed open a closed bedroom door. Inside was a cozy nursery. “Everything in here was personally chosen by Julian, and he decorated the room himself. “He’s not without hope for this child.” I desperately wanted to maintain my last shred of composure in front of Selena, who was flaunting Julian’s fatherly love to me. But she still provoked me. So, Julian *did* have expectations for this child. He wasn’t indifferent at all. All the strength seemed to drain from my body. I leaned a hand on the dining table, knocking over a water glass. It hit the floor with a crisp *clink*, a sound that echoed in my heart, shattering it into cracks. Julian heard the noise. When he looked, he saw me swaying, and Selena on the floor crying out in pain. That day, I will never forget, Julian’s first choice was no longer me. Selena shot me a triumphant smile, believing she had won. As he brushed past me, Julian hesitated for only a second. Then he went past me, picked Selena up, and rushed her to the hospital.

Julian didn’t look at me as he left. I stood there for a long time, slowly accepting the fact that he had abandoned me. I followed them to the hospital. By the time I arrived, Mrs. and Mr. Sterling were also there. It turned out they had known all along, only keeping it a secret from me. Seeing me, Mrs. Sterling slapped me across the face. “If anything happens to my grandson, I swear I’ll make you pay!” Julian immediately shielded me, pulling me behind him. Seeing this, Mrs. Sterling became even angrier. “Julian, it’s fine if you protect her usually, but now she’s trying to harm your son!” Julian laughed, his voice tinged with suppressed defiance. “So what? If he’s gone, he’s gone.” If they hadn’t kept this child behind his back, why would Nora be so heartbroken and upset? No one knew that when he saw Selena fall, His first reaction was actually relief. He regretted this unexpected arrival. The doctor came out of the room, saying the baby was saved. Mr. and Mrs. Sterling hurried in, showering Selena with concern. Selena, however, kept looking towards Julian, who stood by the door, her expression fragile and pitiful. She dared to scheme against me, so why should I let her have her way? I showed him my swollen left cheek, letting him feel a pang of sympathy, and told Julian: “I don’t want to stay here anymore.” Julian left with me. As I walked out, I looked at Selena, lying in the hospital bed, and returned her smile with one of my own. At least for now, Julian still sided with me. Even if I no longer wanted that favoritism. In the days Julian thought I had accepted the baby, I had already begun preparing to leave. I packed my belongings and prepared the divorce papers. Just waiting for the day I’d leave. That’s right, I would leave on the day Selena gave birth. She wanted me to complete their family of three, didn’t she? Then I would fulfill her wish.

Recently, I’d been having a vague discomfort in my lower abdomen. I went to the hospital that day for a check-up, but I didn’t expect to run into them. I rescheduled my appointment and had the check-up. The moment I got the results, I laughed through my tears. Julian and I had tried for a baby for five years without success. Now, this baby seemed to have come at the most inconvenient time. I walked through the hospital, clutching the pregnancy test results, lost in a daze, unsure how to treat this little life inside me. I knew I should terminate it, but I couldn’t bear to. This decision was harder than letting go of Julian. Then I looked up and saw Julian and Selena emerging from her prenatal check-up. These past few days, neither of us had mentioned Selena’s situation again. He thought my silence meant I had tacitly accepted her presence. “Julian, our baby is so healthy. I’m so happy.” Julian’s voice betrayed no emotion, but his slightly raised eyebrows revealed his good mood. “Hmm, you’re taking good care of him.” They chatted about the baby, neither noticing I had stopped in front of them. The moment Julian saw me, he immediately let go of Selena’s hand, creating a distance between them. After a silent pause, I spoke first. “What a coincidence. Well, I’ll leave you to it. I’m going now.” Julian frantically grabbed me, unwilling to let me go. “Nora, let me explain.” I calmly pulled my hand away from him, without a hint of anger. “I’m not mad. This baby is your responsibility. I understand.” At my words, Selena’s eyes suddenly lit up. “Miss Shen, do you really agree to keep this baby?” Since our last confrontation, I didn’t feel like giving her any pleasantries. “Miss Selena’s baby is due in a few days. Does my disagreement even matter anymore?” The woman immediately panicked, her voice catching with a sob. “I… I was forced.” Saying all this now was meaningless. Without letting Julian follow, I turned and went back to the doctor. Someone had just made the decision for me. On the day Selena went into labor, Julian was called away at four in the morning. Before he left, he leaned close and whispered in my ear:

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On my birthday, I received a confirmation text for a couples’ suite reservation, sent to my phone. I waited in my car all night, and finally, I saw my wife and a man walking out of the hotel together. I knew the man. He was Cassandra’s male secretary, Julian. I didn’t like my wife having a male secretary, so I’d asked her to fire him. Now, it seemed, she had only changed his job title, not his position in her bed. Chapter 1: The Test The moment Cassandra stepped through the door, I was sitting on the couch smoking, the floor littered with cigarette butts. Cassandra despised the smell of smoke. I’d even quit for her, once upon a time, but now, I didn’t care if she hated it or not. Yesterday was my birthday, a day meant for family togetherness. I’d prepared a table full of food early, waiting for my wife to come home. In this sprawling city, Cassandra was my only family. Every year, I spent the holidays with her; she was never absent. But yesterday, I waited and waited, and my wife never showed. All I got was that damned confirmation text for a hotel room reservation. If I hadn’t seen it with my own eyes, I wouldn’t have believed it. My wife was cheating, and it was with the male secretary I’d asked her to replace. Cassandra’s brow furrowed almost imperceptibly. “Leo, what’s gotten into you? Are you crazy? I told you I hate the smell of smoke! You were gone for just one day, and you’ve turned the house into a pigsty. It stinks!” As she spoke, Cassandra pulled open the windows and curtains, waving her hands in disgust. Before, whatever she said was law, and I never dared to disobey. Even if others called me henpecked, I’d just smile and say I didn’t mind. But now, I realized. No love meant no love. My obedience meant nothing. Cassandra pinched her nose. “Throw those cigarettes away. And don’t you dare smoke again.” I didn’t obey like before. I slowly raised my eyes to her, blowing out a smoke ring. “Yesterday was my birthday. I waited for you all night. Where were you?” Chapter 2: The Argument Hearing the accusation in my voice, Cassandra’s tone turned sharp. “Where could I have been? Overtime at the office, of course! You don’t earn a dime in this house, don’t I support us?” As soon as she said it, Cassandra seemed to realize her tone was too harsh. She walked to the dining table and lifted the lid of a takeout container. “Forget it. It’s a holiday, I don’t want to fight. I bought you a big platter of shrimp and crab legs. Go wash your hands and eat.” Any lingering warmth in my heart shattered. I let out a self-deprecating laugh. “Did you really buy them for me?” At the hotel entrance, I’d distinctly seen Cassandra handing a takeout bag to Julian, but he didn’t take it. Was this just their leftovers from the hotel? Cassandra’s movements paused. She flung the plastic gloves onto the table. “What do you mean? Is it wrong for me to buy you food? You’re a grown man, just say what you mean. I don’t have time for your games.” I said nothing. After a long moment, I stubbed out my cigarette and slowly said, “I’m allergic to seafood.” Cassandra’s body stiffened, an awkward expression flashing across her face. But she quickly recovered. “Regardless, my intentions were good. You don’t need to make a scene with me. It’s just one birthday, right? We have plenty of other holidays.” In an instant, a memory flashed in my mind: Cassandra, leaning into my shoulder, her eyes shining as she whispered, “Every single birthday, from this day forward, I want to spend it with you.” I pushed myself up from the sofa, dumping all the untouched food from yesterday. As I cleaned, I said, “Cassandra, it’s not just about missing my birthday.” “You cheated on me.” Chapter 3: The Other Man My words were clear and firm, making Cassandra’s face flush from her neck up. I ignored her reaction. “The hotel room confirmation was sent directly to my phone.” “And your lover is your secretary, isn’t he? Quite dedicated, hasn’t changed in years.” The moment the words left my lips, a flicker of panic crossed Cassandra’s face. But she immediately bristled, yelling at me, “I was working hard on a business deal, drinking myself senseless! Julian was the one who took me back to the hotel. You can’t even thank him, and you suspect us? We’ve been married five years, can’t you give me some trust?” I pressed my lips together, thinking to myself that I’d trusted her too much, which was why they’d gone undetected for so long. Cassandra, however, thought her words had worked. “Stop being so paranoid. Dealing with work is hard enough as it is.” I said calmly, “Taking you back to the hotel… and booking a couples’ suite?” Cassandra’s eyes reddened. She pointed at me, accusing, “That was the only room left at the hotel! What was I supposed to do? Sleep on the street? No wonder you were always ostracized before! Who could stand a personality like yours?” I smiled in silence. When people are guilty, they react just like Cassandra. Cassandra continued, “I think I need to seriously reconsider this relationship. I’m moving out for a while.” With that, she turned and left without looking back. Whenever we argued, she would give me the silent treatment, sometimes for a week, sometimes for a month. But the cold war always ended with me giving in first. Cassandra probably thought this time would be no different. But this time, it was. I sent a text to my friend, Mark: “Mark, I need your advice on something… about getting a divorce.” Chapter 4: Divorce Agreement Cassandra and I both came from small towns. We both got into college in the big city. We started a business together, raised investments together. Late at night, I drank myself to the point of stomach bleeding trying to close a deal, and Cassandra swore then that she would always be good to me. Only now did I realize that “forever” has an expiration date. Back then, we were so poor that we sweated through the summer, unwilling to even turn on a fan. After we got married, Cassandra said someone needed to be home, not both of us out working. Because of that, I gave up my career and became a stay-at-home husband. But the ending rarely lives up to the beginning. Sometimes, it’s a complete disaster. When Mark heard I wanted a divorce, he said to me earnestly, “I knew being a stay-at-home husband wouldn’t end well. You didn’t get any benefits, and you lost your career.” As he spoke, he offered to introduce me to a job. “A buddy of mine has an opening for a management position at his company. Want to give it a shot?” I thought about it and agreed, adding the contact info he sent me. After learning more, I tidied myself up and went for an interview at his company. The manager nodded in satisfaction at my resume, and when he found out I’d previously started a business, he hired me on the spot. He told me to start tomorrow. I quickly agreed. Exhausted, I returned home, and a call came through. It was Chloe, Cassandra’s best friend. When I answered, she laughed and said, “Leo, it’s my birthday today! Why is Cassandra the only one here? You can’t disrespect me like that! I’ve sent you the address; we’re just missing one more person.” Before I could refuse, she hung up. I checked the address; it was near home. Plus, it was her birthday, and she’d invited me directly, so I didn’t want to be a spoilsport. I quickly splashed some water on my face and headed out. When I arrived, the lively atmosphere instantly froze. I scanned the room and saw Julian sitting brazenly next to Cassandra. It seemed Cassandra had brought him to her friends’ gatherings more than once. And I, like an idiot, had believed Cassandra had actually fired him. When Cassandra saw me, her smile vanished. She questioned me coldly, “What are you doing here? Didn’t I tell you we needed some time to cool off?” Chapter 5: Provocation I looked at Cassandra’s reaction and realized she’d misunderstood. She thought I’d come to win her back. I’d always swallowed my pride and appeased her, anxiously asking her friends what she liked, just to make her happy. But now, thinking back, one-sided devotion was just being a simp, not love. Cassandra’s friend, Chloe, looked awkward and quickly tried to lighten the mood. “I invited Leo! The more, the merrier, right?” Then she waved at me, motioning for me to sit next to her. I walked over with long strides. After I sat down, Julian turned his head to greet me. “Hello. We’ve met before. I’ve heard a lot about you from Cassie these past few years.” His voice was full of provocation, perhaps thinking I’d get angry, but I didn’t. I raised my glass cordially and nodded. When I didn’t take the bait, Julian eagerly started doting on Cassandra, filling her plate. I ignored it all, quietly eating my own food. Cassandra repeatedly cast guilty glances my way, but I remained silent. Until I stood up and said, “Excuse me, I’m going out for a smoke.” Hearing that, Cassandra shot up from her seat. “Didn’t I tell you not to smoke?” Julian, sitting next to Cassandra, chimed in, “It’s okay, Cassie. Don’t be mad. You haven’t even eaten the shrimp I peeled for you yet.” I turned and looked at Cassandra coldly. “Do you think your words are gospel?” Cassandra froze in place, and ultimately said nothing more. When I returned after my smoke, Cassandra and Julian were being egged on to drink with linked arms. Seeing me return, everyone’s faces froze. Chloe stepped in to mediate. “Alright, everyone, stop it. Leo’s going to get mad.” But Cassandra said in a low voice, “Ignore him. Let’s continue.” Julian looked at me, feigning innocence, and said, “Brother-in-law, Cassie and I are just playing a game. You don’t mind, do you?” Everyone expected me to explode, but I simply crossed my legs and sat down, watching them. “No, I don’t mind. Go ahead.” Cassandra’s face darkened, as if she hadn’t expected me to say that. But Cassandra still, under my gaze, intimately linked arms with Julian and drank. When the dinner was almost over, I bid them farewell. “Everyone, enjoy your meal. I’m leaving now.” Seeing that, Cassandra’s anger flared. She rushed forward and splashed the remaining wine from her glass onto my face. “Weren’t you here to make up? What’s with the attitude? If you’re so tough, why even bother coming?” Everyone gasped. Only Julian looked at me mockingly. “Brother-in-law, Cassie’s mad. You should just give in. Dude, when you’re trying to win her back, you gotta swallow your pride.” I wiped the wine from my face, picked up a bottle of wine, and filled two glasses. I smiled at Julian. “This first toast is for you, Julian. A big thank you for keeping Cassandra warm in bed all these years, being her little boy-toy.” Cassandra’s face instantly went white. “Leo, what the hell are you talking about? Didn’t I explain everything to you?” Chapter 6: Drunk She stepped forward to block me, while Julian’s smile froze. Chloe, seeing the situation, quickly said, “Everyone’s drunk. Drunk words don’t count.” But I shoved her aside, picked up the second glass, and looked at Cassandra. “This second glass, I toast to you, my dear ‘wife.’ You’ve worked so hard, so tired out there, and then you come home and have to put on an act with me. Honestly, your acting skills are impressive.” After saying that, I violently splashed the two glasses of wine, one at Cassandra and one at Julian. The room erupted into chaos. Cassandra’s face and Julian’s hair were soaked. Ignoring Cassandra’s stunned expression, I strode out of the restaurant. As soon as I was out the door, Cassandra chased after me. She grabbed me. “Julian and I were just playing a game! Did you have to humiliate me in front of everyone? What is wrong with you?” Cassandra probably thought I was jealous because of that linked-arm drink, but I genuinely no longer cared. “You’re overthinking it. Even if you and Julian slept together right in front of me, I wouldn’t bat an eye. I’d even offer you protection.” After I said that, Cassandra’s hand struck my face, leaving a clear red mark. “If that’s your attitude, then why did you even come?” Cassandra’s chest heaved with anger, but I just said coldly, “My being here has nothing to do with you. Don’t flatter yourself.” Cassandra, however, thought I was just being stubborn. She looked at me and said, “Okay, let’s pretend today never happened. We’ll both take a step back. I’ll come home with you tonight, alright?” I was about to speak when Julian walked up, putting an arm around Cassandra’s shoulder. “Cassie, I feel so dizzy. Can you take me back to the hotel?” Cassandra glanced nervously at my reaction, then quickly pushed Julian away, explaining to me, “Don’t misunderstand, Julian’s just drunk, he can’t stand steady.” I scoffed. I know a fake drunk when I see one. It was all an act. I casually folded my arms, a mocking smile in my eyes. “Alright, you don’t need to come home tonight. Go take him back to the hotel.” Cassandra hadn’t expected my attitude. She wanted to say something else, but Julian cut her off. I, without hesitation, turned and walked away. The next morning, I arrived at the company for work and quickly familiarized myself with my new position. My colleagues here were friendly, the environment was great, and most importantly, the salary they offered me was very generous. While at work, I received a call from Cassandra. It was the first call she’d made to me since our cold war began. “Where are you?” “Busy.” “What could you possibly be busy with all day besides laundry and cooking?” Watching her relentless questioning, I said calmly, “I went to work.” Cassandra immediately flared up. “Who told you to go to work? Did I agree? I come home, and I can’t even get a hot meal. What’s the point of this marriage?” Listening to her unreasonable words, I scoffed. “I’m not your maid. I’m not obligated to do your laundry or cook for you. Whether or not I work is my right; you have no right to take that away from me.” Cassandra’s voice trembled with rage after hearing my words. She spoke fiercely, threatening, “Leo, if you choose to work, then we’re getting a divorce!” I stayed silent. Cassandra, thinking her threat had worked, said, “If you don’t want a divorce, then come home right now!” My knuckles whitened as I gripped my phone, but I answered with a sense of release, “Okay.” Chapter 7: The Explanation Before, I would have groveled, begged her to stay, because I cared about our relationship. I loved her, so I was willing to compromise. Similarly, my prompt agreement to divorce today wasn’t for any other reason; it was simply because I no longer loved her.

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My ex-boyfriend, Julian Blackwood, sweet-talked me into taking nude photos. He promised they were just for him to cherish. I was a little worried, but also secretly thrilled I’d finally ‘won over’ Julian. Until one day, Chloe, a scholarship student, and I were competing for first place. Julian said, ” let her win.” “You don’t want those photos plastered all over the internet, do you?” I froze, nodding numbly. Seven days later, Chloe won first place as planned. Julian deleted all the photos. A huge weight lifted from my chest, and I boarded a plane out of the country. All those years, I’d consider them just wasted. Julian’s words were casual, almost dismissive. “You agree, and all the photos are deleted.” It was the peak of summer, unbearably hot. Yet, a wave of icy dread washed over me, like a punch to the gut. I opened my mouth, my voice trembling. “But you promised me…” Julian cut me off. “Yes, I promised only I would see them.” His gaze was unwavering, his tone low and deliberate. “I won’t break my word.” “Just let Chloe win first place.” I argued stubbornly, my words fragmented. “The singing competition… it’s supposed to be about talent.” “I… won’t give it up.” Julian seemed to have expected my resistance. He pulled my chair closer, encircling me in his arms. Then, he took out his phone. He took my hand and pressed it to unlock his private album. Explicit images flashed across the screen. Julian chuckled softly. “Whisper, your body is truly perfect.” His lips brushed my ear. “This one’s my favorite. You’re all flushed, mouth slightly open, looking at the camera.” “Like a plaything used up and tossed aside…” My fingertips trembled, a sob catching in my throat. “Don’t look.” Julian paused, switching off the screen. His thumb was warm as he wiped a tear from the corner of my eye. “Good girl, don’t be scared. Do you agree?” My fingers unconsciously tightened, my mind a blank. “Okay.” Julian’s eyes curved into a satisfied smile as he stood up. He smoothed my disheveled hair, speaking softly as if nothing had happened. “There’s a class gathering tonight. I won’t be coming home with you.” “I’ll have the driver take you.”

The air conditioning in the vocal classroom was blasting. I pulled my jacket tighter, curling up in the chair. So cold, so incredibly cold. I covered my mouth, stifling my sobs. Julian was the person I trusted most. When I was seven, my parents brought me from our small, rundown house in the countryside to a glittering mansion in the city. But I couldn’t fit in. I was scrawny, small, and always felt out of place. I was constantly bullied. I’d just hide and cry. I thought if I didn’t fight back, they’d leave me alone. Until that day, a group of boys tried to pull down my pants. I cried out, grabbing a dead tree branch. “Don’t… don’t come closer!” They didn’t stop, only grew bolder. That’s when Julian appeared. He brandished a brick, chasing them all away. Then, he offered me his hand. “Whisper, I’ll take you home.” But my legs were like jelly; I couldn’t stand. Julian frowned, a sour look on his face. But he still crouched down. “Get on.” I hesitated for a moment, then climbed onto his back. He carried me, walking with a steady, determined pace. After that, I always shyly followed Julian. For eleven years. Until Freshman Orientation Week ended in college. I gathered all my courage and confessed my feelings. Perhaps Julian’s heart softened. He looked at me with a smile, a regal nod of his head. So, when Julian suggested taking photos. I fought back my fear, asking softly, “Will… will others see them?” Julian held up the camera, gently reassuring me. “No, I’ll keep them treasured.” I hesitated for a moment, then slipped off my nightgown. Posing again and again. But now, that once-cherished intimacy had turned into a blade, stabbing me. I had trusted Julian so much. I finally couldn’t hold it in anymore, bursting into loud sobs. I don’t know how long passed, until no more tears would fall. Julian sent a SnapChat message. He was as thoughtful as ever, reminding me carefully, “You cried today, your throat will be sore.” “Remember to drink honey water when you get back.” I clutched my phone, stumbling home in a daze. On the way, I almost crashed into a big truck. My whole body felt numb, and I tremblingly entered my room’s password. The living room was pitch black. I didn’t turn on the lights, just sat on the sofa, hugging my knees. The clock ticked, hour after hour. The SnapChat notification sound rang out. I mechanically opened it. My best friend, Skylar, her voice serious, “Whisper, tell me the truth.” “Did Julian… take nude photos of you?”

Shame and a suffocating dread washed over me all at once. I frantically turned off the screen. I had promised… The screen lit up again. It was a video from Skylar. My hands trembling, I tapped to play it. In a dimly lit private lounge. Julian was holding a cigarette, his voice lazy. “Don’t worry, first place in the singing competition will definitely be yours.” Chloe, the scholarship student, sat beside him. They were incredibly close. Chloe forced a strained smile. “Don’t joke, Whisper is so pretty and her family is rich, I can’t possibly beat her.” Julian stared at her, lost in thought for a long moment. As if completely captivated. After a while, he spoke faintly. “She wouldn’t dare.” Chloe grabbed his hand, blinking. “Why not?” Julian fell silent. Chloe wasn’t in a hurry. She just reached out to touch a glass of wine on the table. The ambient lights flickered suggestively. Julian sighed, catching her hand. “You’re on your period, good girl, no drinking.” Chloe blinked, gazing steadily at him. Julian crumbled instantly. He squeezed Chloe’s cheek, a helpless smile on his face. “I have nude photos of her.” “Is that enough, my little queen?” The video ended. My heart felt like a gaping hole. Filled with sulfur by Julian’s own hands. Burning with excruciating pain. Skylar’s voice message continued. “Whisper, did you and Julian have a fight?” “How could he…” “And who’s that girl next to him?” “Did he… did he really take nude photos of you?” My throat felt like it was sealed with cement. I wanted to tell Skylar not to worry. But when I opened my mouth, no sound came out. I typed instead. “No, he was just joking.” “Are you still working? Go home early.” My head throbbed, and I collapsed onto the sofa. Chloe… Chloe… I closed my eyes, letting the tears fall freely. During Freshman Orientation Week, Chloe was the freshman representative. She wore a neat ponytail, speaking at the podium. Her voice was strong and clear, her demeanor poised and confident. At that time, I was suffering from heatstroke. Weakly leaning against Julian’s chest. He fanned me, chuckling. “Look at her, full of energy.” “You’re like a sick kitten.” “How will you ever survive without me?” My head was spinning, and I glanced at Chloe. “Julian, I want a popsicle.” Julian poked my forehead, a smirk on his face. “No, you’ll get a stomach ache.” I murmured, burying my head in his neck. Pushing Chloe from my mind. But it turned out Chloe was also a music student. She was cheerful and outgoing, full of passion. As if she had endless energy. And she got along with everyone in the class. Julian would come to pick me up after class, teasing, “I wish you had that much vitality.” At first, I didn’t think much of it. But later, Julian started mentioning her more and more often. The honey water he specifically brought for me. He’d also conveniently give a portion to her. I got angry, questioning him, “Why are you so good to her?” Julian crossed his long legs, rubbing his temples. “Whisper, it’s tough for a scholarship student to pursue music.” “She’s having a hard time, she just pretends to be happy.” “It’s just honey water, what’s the big deal?” But gradually, it wasn’t just honey water. Desserts, snacks, afternoon tea… Julian and I argued more and more. He always said Chloe was pitiful. And that I should be considerate towards her. Until today. Julian, for her sake, threw caution to the wind. My humiliation, my privacy. All became his bargaining chips to win Chloe’s favor. I stared at a solitary star outside the window. I didn’t understand what I had done wrong. Why Julian didn’t want me anymore… I bit my wrist, my mouth filling with a salty, metallic taste. Until the coppery tang of blood emerged. I wearily released my bite. It hurt, so much. I didn’t want to experience this anymore. Julian was right. I was timid and weak. Whenever something happened, I always wanted to retreat into my shell. But I didn’t want to be sad anymore. I opened my phone and booked a flight out of the country for seven days later.

I lay in bed. My temples throbbed relentlessly. But I couldn’t sleep. I took out my phone, searching repeatedly. “What to do if your boyfriend takes nude photos?” “Will my boyfriend send out my photos?” “Intimate photos leaked by boyfriend.” … I read about similar experiences. My heart ached, making it hard to breathe. I pulled the blanket tighter, my fingers stiff as I clicked, “How to save yourself if intimate photos are spread?” The guides were all well-written. Tell family, friends, seek help… Light and airy. It looked so simple. I mentally rehearsed it again and again. But none of it would work for Julian. He wasn’t afraid of anything. And he could handle anything. Tears soaked my pillow. Until I couldn’t hold on any longer and passed out. My sleep was restless. In a hazy dream, I heard the click of a camera.

I jolted awake, clutching my blanket. The room was dim. Only the red light of a camera flashed. Julian was hidden in the shadows. A smile played on his lips, his eyes flushed with a hint of intoxication. “So beautiful.” I jumped out of bed, reaching out to hide. But Julian easily pulled me into his arms. The scent of perfume mixed with smoke rushed into my nostrils. I coughed uncontrollably. Julian tightened his hold, his voice deep. “Don’t move.” “I missed you so much.” My nerves were stretched taut, like a string being plucked repeatedly. I grabbed his sleeve, my voice hoarse. “Delete… them.” Julian pressed me onto his lap. “What’s wrong with your throat?” “Didn’t you drink honey water last night?” “The driver said he couldn’t pick you up, are you still angry?” My stomach churned, a wave of nausea rising. I silently dug my nails into my palms. Struggling to get off his lap. Julian sighed, seemingly helpless. “I saw your phone.” My muddled thoughts briefly cleared. My whole body trembled. My flight ticket… Julian gently patted my back. “Did your friend tell on me?” “Yes, I took Chloe to the class gathering last night.” “It was her birthday, and she had no one to celebrate with. It was just a convenience.” “Whisper, don’t overthink it.” I lost all strength, my voice barely a whisper. “Julian, please delete the photos you just took, okay?” “I don’t like it. I don’t want to take them.” Julian froze. His voice grew cold, laced with anger. “Still making a fuss?” “I knew I shouldn’t have told you.” “How many times have I told you? I just feel sorry for Chloe.” “Niamh Carter, I won’t tolerate you every time.” Julian’s lips moved. Accusations tumbled out, one after another. Like heavy blows raining down on me. Leaving no room for escape. I pushed him away, rushing to the bathroom. My throat burned. I bent over in agony. But I hadn’t eaten all day. Only bitter bile came up. Behind me, hurried footsteps sounded. Julian scooped me up in his arms. His lips were tightly pressed, his expression anxious. “Didn’t you eat properly again?” “I’ll take you to the hospital.” I clutched his collar, sobbing. “No, don’t. Please.” “Julian, please delete the photos, okay?” He looked down, staring at my swollen eyes. A flicker of struggle crossed his face. But the next moment. Julian’s phone, left on the table, rang. He glanced at it, and instantly snapped back to reality. He placed me on the bed, handing me a camera. “I’ll call the family doctor over.” “You rest well.” “You can delete whatever you want from *this* camera.” “As for the nude photos…” Julian paused, tucking the blanket around me. “I’ll delete them for you after the competition ends in seven days.” He stood up, answering the call. His voice was incredibly gentle. “What’s wrong?” “Stay put, I’m coming to you.” The bedroom door was slammed shut. Faintly. I heard Chloe’s cries. The camera felt heavy. A dead weight in my hand. On the screen were photos of me sleeping just now.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “299244”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster #浪漫Romance #现实主义Realistic #惊悚Thriller