The fresh grad I’d been mentoring for three months suddenly looked up from her phone and asked, “Sarah, is the company withholding your paycheck or something?” “What do you mean?” I asked, pausing my typing. “I just saw my pay stub. I’m making $140k base, but the internal sheet says you’re at $110k. That has to be a payroll glitch, right?” She looked at me with wide, innocent eyes, completely unaware that she had just committed a murder. Starting that day, I began quietly messaging every veteran employee in my department. One month later, when twenty-three of us handed in our resignation letters simultaneously… The CEO finally realized who was actually keeping his ship afloat. Chapter 1 “Sarah, you must be pulling in, what, like $160k? My $140k barely covers rent in the Bay Area these days.” The straw in my iced oat milk latte froze halfway to my mouth. The boba pearls clinked softly against the plastic cup. Across from me, Brittany, the new hire, blinked her doe eyes, waiting for validation. $140k? My salary was $110k. I had been grinding at this “Internet Giant” for three years. $110k. “You… how much did you say?” I tried to keep my voice steady. “140,” Brittany said, nodding matter-of-factly as she chewed on a pearl. “HR told me that for someone with an overseas Master’s, that’s just the starting market rate.” She sighed, a humble-brag dripping from her lips. “Ugh, but San Francisco is so expensive. My studio apartment in SoMa alone eats up nearly four grand a month.” I set my drink down. Suddenly, the sugar rush felt like acid reflux. Three years ago, I graduated from a top state university with honors and fought tooth and nail to get into this company. Starting salary: $85k. I was the first one in, the last one out. I put out fires. I trained newbies. My direct supervisor, Director Miller, always praised me as “reliable” and “the backbone of the team.” Whenever colleagues hit a wall, their first instinct was always: “Ask Sarah.” Three years of blood, sweat, and tears for a $25k bump. And sitting across from me was Brittany. She’d been here a week. She barely knew how to log into the VPN. And she was making $30k more than me. “Sarah, you okay?” Brittany asked, feigning concern. “Is the latte bad? We can try that viral spot next time.” I shook my head, forcing a smile. “No, it’s fine. I just remembered I have a sync meeting later.” “Oh, you work too hard,” Brittany waved her hand dismissively. “It’s just a job. With our degrees, we could go anywhere. No need to burn out.” Degrees. I thought about Brittany’s resume. A one-year Master’s program in the UK. Her practical skills were non-existent. Yesterday, I asked her to organize a user research report. She literally Googled an article, changed the title, and emailed it to me. Chapter 2 Meanwhile, I had three years of frontline product experience and held half the department’s core user data in my head. And I was the discount labor. “By the way,” Brittany leaned in, whispering conspiratorially. “I heard comp reviews are next month. With your experience, you’ll probably bump up to $180k, right?” I almost choked. Last year, my raise was $5k. The year before? $8k. The excuse was always: “Sarah, you’re young. Look at the long game. The company takes care of its own.” “Actually,” Brittany continued, oblivious to my internal screaming, “I don’t think $180k is even that high. My friend just started at a competitor for $175k base.” I took a deep breath and stood up. “Brittany, let’s head back. I need to prep for the afternoon meeting.” “Aww, but my croissant isn’t here yet,” she whined. “Get it to go,” I said, pulling out my phone to pay the bill. I didn’t tell her that this “afternoon tea” cost me two days of my grocery budget. Shutterstock Back at the office, I walked straight to the HR Director’s glass office. Linda was sipping her artisanal pour-over coffee. Seeing me enter, she put on her corporate mask. “Sarah! What can I do for you?” I cut the small talk. “Linda, I want to review my compensation package. And I’d like to understand the pay bands for the new graduate hires.” Linda’s smile faltered for a microsecond before resetting. She pulled a file from her drawer. “Sarah, your compensation is aligned with company standards for your current level.” She paused, her voice taking on that patronizing, ‘HR-splaining’ tone. “Regarding the new hires… the market is volatile. Top-tier talent commands a premium right now. It’s just supply and demand.” “We veterans need to look at the big picture. Don’t fixate on the number. The company offers a platform for growth and comprehensive benefits. Those are ‘hidden paychecks.’” I flipped open the file on her desk. It was right there. Brittany, Product Specialist, $140,000/yr. Kevin (another new grad), $135,000/yr. And next to my name? That stinging $110,000. Even the intern next door who just converted to full-time was rumored to be at $115k. I closed the folder and looked Linda in the eye. “I understand, Linda.” My voice was calm. Too calm. Linda exhaled, clearly relieved. “I knew you were sensible, Sarah. Don’t sweat the short-term stuff. We value your loyalty and dedication. Future looks bright.” I nodded and walked out. Loyalty? Dedication? I was done eating the pie in the sky. I sat at my desk and opened a new, password-protected document. Filename: Project_Exodus.docx. I documented everything. Brittany’s salary confession, Linda’s gaslighting, the pay bands. Then, I opened the internal directory. I found the veterans. The ones like me, who had been grinding for years while inflation ate their paychecks. I sent a blind message to their personal numbers: Do you feel like your paycheck matches your output? Then I updated my LinkedIn and started teaching Brittany everything I knew. I was going to train her to replace me. I wanted to see if she was worth that $140k price tag. Chapter 3 Linda’s “loyalty” speech didn’t pacify me; it radicalized me. I started watching Brittany like a hawk. Monday morning. Weekly sync to discuss the Q4 product launch. I was presenting my strategy—a plan I’d spent three all-nighters perfecting, backed by hard data. Mid-sentence, a hand shot up. “Sarah, sorry to interrupt,” Brittany said, adjusting her designer glasses. “But isn’t this approach a little… dated?” The room went silent. “When I was studying in London,” she continued, voice dripping with unearned confidence, “we used a ‘Viral Loop Growth Model.’ It’s way more effective than this traditional funnel stuff.” Before I could respond, Director Miller’s eyes lit up. “Oh? Tell us more, Brittany! We need fresh blood and bold ideas!” He actually waved me off. “Sarah, hold on. Let Brittany speak.” I shut my laptop. Brittany strutted to the screen. Her slide deck was pretty—full of buzzwords and flashy graphics. She talked about a viral marketing case study from a dating app in Europe. It sounded impressive to the ignorant. But anyone who actually knew our user base knew this was suicide. The demographics were completely different. Her data was three years old. “Brilliant! Innovative!” Miller clapped like a seal. He beamed at Brittany like she was Elon Musk. “This is the global vision we need!” He turned to me, his face stern. “Sarah, scrap your plan. We’re going with Brittany’s strategy. Learn from the younger generation. Don’t be a dinosaur.” I looked at Miller’s excited face and felt nothing but cold detachment. He didn’t care if it worked. He just wanted to put “AI-driven Viral Loop” on his quarterly report to the VP. Chapter 4 After the meeting, Brittany stopped by my desk. “Sarah, don’t take it personally,” she smiled, a shark baring teeth. “I just think if you learn new things abroad, you should share them. Your experience is cute, but you need to update your database.” She handed me a flash drive. “Here are some case studies and papers from my professor. You should read them.” The audacity. It was breathtaking. I took the drive. “Thanks, Brittany. I’ll study hard.” I plugged it in. Garbage. It was a folder of blog posts and generic white papers she’d likely pirated or downloaded from LinkedIn influencers. I saved everything. Folder name: Brittany’s_Sources. Then, I opened her “Viral Loop” proposal. I began to “refine” it. Where her logic was flawed, I made the flaw bigger. Where her data was shaky, I leaned into it. I crafted a perfect disaster. A plan so beautiful and so fundamentally broken that it would implode on launch day. My phone buzzed. Kelly, a headhunter I’d known for years. Kelly: Sarah, two companies bit. An EdTech unicorn needs a Product Lead. $180k + equity. And an E-commerce giant wants a Growth Manager. $190k base. I stared at the numbers. Me: Set up the interviews. ASAP. Kelly: Fast! You finally ready to jump ship? Me: Oh, I’m already packing my bags. Chapter 5 Brittany’s project became the department’s golden child. I was assigned to “assist” her. Which meant I did the work, and she took the credit. I watched her present my sabotaged plan in meetings, Miller nodding along like a bobblehead. December rolled around. Bonus season. The email hit everyone’s inbox. Bonus Structure Update: 1. “Rising Star Award”: New hires (<1 year) with excellent performance get an extra 1-2 months salary bonus. 2. "Future Leader Award": New hires who contribute to key projects get 2-3 months bonus and fast-track promotion. I read it three times. Nothing for veterans. Just the standard "N-multiplier," based on our already stagnant salaries. Next to me, Mike, a senior dev who’d been here six years, slammed his laptop shut. "Are they actually joking?" Brittany popped her head up like a gopher. "Guys! Did you see? I think I qualify for the Rising Star and the Future Leader! That’s like... an extra $30k! Yay!" Mike looked like he was about to flip a table. "That's great," he deadpanned. That night, the department dinner. "Pre-Holiday Celebration." Director Miller raised a glass of wine. "This year was tough, but we made it! Especially thanks to..." He pointed at Brittany and the other fresh grads. "...Our new blood! The future is in your hands!" "To the youth!" Brittany and her crew stood up, beaming. We, the "Old Guard," sat there holding our water glasses, smiling stiffly. Miller turned to us. "And to our veterans... keep being the ladder. Support the youth. Your sacrifice paves the road for their success!" Mike kicked me under the table. I took a sip of orange juice. Be the ladder? You want to step on our faces to climb up? Fine. But ladders can collapse.

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I’m what you’d call a “try-hard.” While everyone else gets cats or dogs, I got a snake just to prove I’m different. Some people question my life choices. “I can cuddle my cat anytime I want. Can you say the same about your snake?” I leaned down and planted a big, fat kiss right on my snake’s head. Mwah! “Not only can I cuddle him, I can kiss him too.” “My dog is super friendly; you can pet him all you want, and he won’t bite.” I ran my hands all over my snake’s body, even playfully tying him into a loose knot. “Mine’s a softie. Easier to handle than a dog.” [Girl, stop playing! Can’t you see the male lead has already fainted from happiness?] [Usually, he only dares to sneak a kiss when she’s asleep. How is he supposed to handle this kind of affection?] [He’s already passed out twice today. She gives him a little sugar, and he’s like: “She’s got moves.”] 1 I’ve been a try-hard since I was a kid. To show how unique I was, while other kids played in the mud, I sat on the sidelines reading books and doing homework. A little girl with a butterfly bow in her hair blinked at me and ran over, extending a warm invitation. “Fiona, come play with us! It’s so much fun.” I lifted my chin arrogantly. “No thanks. I think reading is more fun.” The little munchkins all gasped in unison, their round eyes widening. One kid dropped his jaw in awe. “She’s amazing. She loves studying so much.” I secretly puffed out my chest. From that moment on, I fell in love with the feeling of being different. In middle school, my classmates were immature and bullied a transfer student from a poor rural family. To show how different I was, I swooped in like an anime protagonist. Not only did I chase away the bullies, but I also became his best friend. In high school, everyone started taking things seriously, burning the midnight oil to improve their grades. But me? I sat comfortably at the top of the class, leaving right when the bell rang. I was all about that effortless vibe. My desk mate, sporting dark circles under her eyes, was green with envy. “Fiona, how do you get grades like yours?” I looked up at the sky, feigning distress. “Maybe it’s just talent. I don’t really study.” I successfully elicited a gasp of envy from her. By college, a pet craze swept through campus. Cats and dogs were everywhere. To show how different I was, I decided to get something unique. 2 But what to get was the problem. After a lap around the pet store yielded nothing, I walked down the street, feeling defeated. I spotted a bench and sat down to rest. My gaze wandered to a nearby bush. A creepy-crawly sensation spread over my body, and my legs turned to jelly. There was a snake in the grass, sunbathing. I stood up shakily, ready to bolt. I moved carefully, terrified of disturbing Mr. Snake’s sunbathing session. Two steps later, it hit me. Cats, dogs, hamsters—too common. What if I kept a snake? And not just any pet store snake. A wild one. The moment the thought crossed my mind, I couldn’t move. I turned back, pulled out my phone, and used an app to identify it. The result: Rat Snake. Non-venomous. The little black snake was still blissfully soaking up the sun, looking incredibly relaxed. He had no idea danger was approaching. In a flash, I pinched him by his “seventh inch”—the spot behind the head where you’re supposed to grab a snake. The little black snake finally reacted, thrashing wildly. Startled, I almost let go. He whipped his head around, ready to bite, but then froze. We stared at each other. The snake tilted his head. He retracted his fangs, flicked his tongue, and licked my hand. I swear I saw a hint of ingratiation in his actions. Was he also captivated by my unique aura? I didn’t dare move. If the enemy doesn’t move, I won’t move. The snake seemed to calm down. He hung there obediently, widening his eyes as if trying to look cute. I tentatively patted his head. “From today on, you’re not a stray snake anymore.” He nudged my palm. Why did the little black snake look shy? I must be seeing things. Snakes can’t be shy. 3 Since he was wild caught, I decided to quarantine him for a few days. I didn’t have a cage, so I found a cardboard box and lined it with a small blanket. The snake was well-behaved the whole time, letting me place him in the box. His tail tip brushed against my wrist occasionally. Afraid he might escape and scare the neighbors, I put the box in my bedroom and blocked any gaps. Now he couldn’t get out. Exhausted from the day, I washed up and fell asleep. I slept deeply but felt something heavy pressing on my chest, like I was being strangled. Morning came. I opened my eyes and found the culprit weighing me down. The little snake was curled up in a ball, sleeping soundly on my chest. I pinched his head and tossed him aside. He woke up, slapping the bed with his tail in protest, and slithered back onto me. I tossed him again. He crawled back. After a few rounds, realizing he had no intention of attacking, I let him be. School was starting in a few days, and I definitely wanted to take him out for a walk. Before that, I decided to train him. I would turn him into a snake more obedient than a dog and cuter than a cat. If I took him out and he misbehaved or bit someone, I’d be a laughingstock. 4 “First things first.” I looked sternly at the snake. He coiled himself into a mosquito coil shape, sitting up straight. “I need to give you a name. Something low-key but meaningful, fitting my status.” “Your name is—Inky.” The little guy, head held high, slumped down. A look of speechlessness seemed to cross his dark face. The audacity! Questioning me? I went through the entire dictionary to pick that name! I coughed loudly to remind him of his attitude. “Next, learning how to be a good pet. For example…” “Inky, sit.” The snake straightened his head, pointing his tail at himself as if asking, Who? Me? I looked at his long body. Asking him to sit might be a bit tough. So I changed the command. “Inky, shake hands.” He slithered forward and placed the tip of his tail in my palm. I gave it a squeeze. Smooth. Nice texture. “Good boy! That’s my Inky.” The moment I squeezed his tail, he flopped over, his whole body going limp. Confused, I poked him. “Inky, what’s wrong?” He remained limp, lying powerless on the floor. Worried, I picked him up. “Snakey, are you okay?” His body temperature was low, so I instinctively pressed him against my chest to warm him up. He came to, took one look, and thud—fainted cold. I quickly put him in my bag and rushed to the vet. The vet examined him while I waited outside. When he came out, I surrounded him anxiously. “Doctor, what’s wrong with my snake? Why did he suddenly faint?” The vet put down his instruments, sat back in his chair, and said concisely: “Overstimulation.” I thought hard. Nothing stimulating had happened. It must be the new environment. And I was too eager to train him. Sumimasen, Inky.

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I found out my brother is the “villainous white moonlight” in a romance novel—the manipulative ex-boyfriend who tries to ruin the female lead’s life—while he was lying in the bathtub, about to hurt himself. I kicked the bathroom door open. “Go downstairs and buy me a pack of spicy Takis, a bag of Lay’s, and a Gatorade.” My brother froze. “But…” “I’m counting to three!” My brother shot up from the water like a rocket. “Sis, do you want the Fuego or the Blue Heat?” Just then, a row of bullet comments floated across my vision. [LMAO, isn’t the villain supposed to be ruthless, paranoid, and depressed? Why is he such a sis-con?] [This is the terrifying power of sibling suppression!] [Hahaha, this villain actually knows the difference between Takis flavors. He must buy them often!] 1 The bathroom door wobbled on its hinges from my kick. My brother frantically hid a fruit knife behind his back. I gave him a deadpan look, pulled a fifty out of my pocket, and gritted my teeth. “Five bucks for gas, not a cent more.” “Can’t we just DoorDash it?” My brother pouted, looking aggrieved. “Delivery is unhealthy!” He paused, clearly confused by my logic, but grabbed a towel off the rack and headed out, muttering, “Like Takis are any healthier.” After he left, I glanced at the fruit knife hidden by the tub. It was clean. I thought back to the floating text I saw earlier while binge-watching TV on the couch. [Sister is still watching TV! Go control your brother, he’s secretly plotting again!] [But the sister probably doesn’t know yet. Her brother is the villainous white moonlight in a ‘chasing husband’ novel. He blackens completely because he can’t stand the female lead using the male lead as his substitute!] [But the villain’s sister never seemed to like her ungrateful brother anyway…] [Forget it, sis, just run. Your villain brother is going to self-destruct soon, and he’ll even get you killed!] Me: “??” Why did this sound exactly like the trashy novel plots I’ve been reading? But wait. My brother is going to self-destruct soon? And I’m going to die too?? Hell no! The fortune teller said I’m destined for great wealth. I work out every day, put collagen in my coffee, and even say a little prayer before eating to bless the souls of the… rice grains I consume! How could I end up dying young? Absolutely not! My brother came back with the Takis, chips, and yogurt drink. He placed them by my hand. “Sis, they didn’t have Gatorade, so I got you a yogurt drink.” Then he started tip-toeing back toward the bathroom. “Cook dinner,” I said, munching on a chip without looking up. “I want sweet and sour pork ribs and crispy beef.” My brother froze, then resignedly turned toward the kitchen. 2 Half an hour later, the table was filled with my favorite dishes. My brother looked at me cautiously. “Dinner’s ready.” “Coming.” I nodded, putting down my snacks. My brother seemed anxious. He ate two bites and put down his chopsticks. He sat opposite me, lips pressed together, watching me gnaw on a rib while eyeing the crispy beef. Rule of the house: Kids don’t leave the table until the elders are done. I ate slowly. My brain was spinning, trying to figure out how to stop him from slitting his wrists and framing the male and female leads. The bullet comments were confused by my behavior. [Sister has a great appetite today. She ate five dishes by herself!] [Yeah, didn’t she used to say her brother’s cooking sucks? Why is she eating so much?] [Is it just me, or is the sister acting weird…] I frowned and blurted out, “Who said my brother’s cooking sucks? It’s delicious!” As soon as I said it, a burning gaze fixed on me. When I looked up, he immediately looked away. My brother pushed a dish closer to me, his voice a little hoarse. “As long as you like it.” I stared at his evasive eyes and red ears, my eyes stinging. Busy with work, I hadn’t properly looked at this brother of mine—who I’ve relied on since we were kids—in a long time. 3 I blinked. I shoved a few more mouthfuls of rice in. After eating, my brother skillfully started washing dishes. Once everything was cleaned up, he headed for the bathroom again. And locked the door. I walked over and knocked. “Bro, go walk Buster. It’s dark out and I’m scared to be alone. Chop chop.” Silence from inside. I turned to the balcony and nudged the sleeping Samoyed with my foot. He picked Buster up from a dumpster when he was twelve. Afraid I’d be mad, he didn’t dare bring him home, feeding him with his own lunch money. From a tiny pup, he grew into this big, goofy lug. Buster, annoyed at the forced reboot, barked at me twice. The bathroom door opened. My brother looked emotionless, just looking for the leash. “Buster, come!” The bullet comments exploded. [This isn’t a villain, this is the sister’s loyal puppy!] [Framing the male lead can wait. If Sister wants ribs, she gets ribs. Walking Buster is more important than being evil…] [But why do I feel like the sister is trying to stop the villain from framing the male lead?] [+1. In the book, the suicide happens today. Does this mean if today passes, the male lead won’t be framed?] True or false, I had to try! 4 We went out. My brother walked Buster, picking up his poop. I followed behind. Sipping fresh-squeezed orange juice, eyeing the kebab stand… By the time I bought a kebab, the dog was gone, and so was my brother. My heart sank. An image of my brother holding up a bloody wrist, accusing the female lead, flashed in my mind. Just as I was about to call him… “Sis.” Under a broken streetlamp in the park stood a boy and a dog. My brother waved his phone. “Been waiting for ages. Let’s go home.” My heart felt wrapped in warmth, but I put on a grumpy face. “What’s the rush? Can’t you walk slower?” “Okay.” My brother shortened the leash, his tone careful. “Sorry, Sis. Buster ran too fast.” He slowed down. His phone flashlight was pointed entirely at me, silently lighting my path. Walking through the dark patch, I could feel his arm stiffen. He seemed afraid of me. Under the warm yellow streetlights… My brother held the dog in one hand, and my half-drunk juice and unfinished kebab in the other. I walked calmly, lightly tugging his sleeve. Two hours later. I dragged my brother around the park loop after loop until Buster couldn’t walk anymore and played dead on the pavement… Only then did I stop. As soon as we got home, I pointed at Buster. “Give him a bath. He stinks.”

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My new roommate, Becky, asked me for a thousand bucks the moment we met. She pointed at my bed and said, “It took me three hours to clean that. A grand should cover it.” I was dumbfounded. “I didn’t ask you to clean it. Why should I pay you?” She put her hands on her hips, her voice rising. “Doesn’t matter if you asked or not. I put in the labor, you pay the cash! If you don’t, you’re exploiting the poor!” I refused. So she bullied me. She isolated me. She turned the whole dorm against me. I fell into a deep depression and, in the end, took my own life. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on move-in day. Becky was standing there, hand out, asking for money. Chapter 1 “You must be Lily.” As soon as I rolled my suitcase into the dorm room, a girl came up to greet me. It was just the two of us. Only one bed had sheets on it. I glanced at the nametag on that bed: Becky Wilson. “Hi, I’m Lily.” Becky gestured around the room. “Pretty clean, right?” I looked around. It was spotless. Top to bottom, inside and out. It looked freshly scrubbed. “Yeah, it’s really clean.” She grinned. “Of course it is. I just finished cleaning. You have no idea how much dust was in here when I arrived! Especially on your bed.” My heart skipped a beat. “You cleaned my bed too?” She nodded. “Duh. We’re roommates. No big deal. You don’t have to give me much, just a thousand dollars.” Before I could process that, she shoved a QR code in my face. I froze. “What? A thousand?” She squinted at me. “From your tone, sounds like you don’t want to pay.” I was caught between a rock and a hard place. “My family isn’t well-off. Every cent my parents gave me is budgeted. I really can’t spare a thousand dollars for a cleaning fee. Besides, I didn’t ask you to clean. I could have done it myself.” Before I could finish, she started yelling. “Are you serious? You’re really not going to pay? What kind of person are you? Exploiting my labor like that!” Her voice was so loud it attracted students from the hallway. Just then, our other two roommates walked in. She grabbed them, playing the victim. “Guys, come look at this! Someone’s trying to scam me out of my hard work! I spent three hours scrubbing this place so she could walk into a nice, clean room. And now? She flips out and won’t even give me a little tip for my effort.” I was frantic. “You’re twisting everything! I never asked you to clean for me. If you’re so mad, put the dust back! I’ll clean it myself. Or next time it’s your turn for chores, I’ll do it for you.” Becky sneered. “Next time? You just don’t want to pay!” The tension was thick. Then, one of the new roommates spoke up. “Alright, chill out. I thought it was something serious. It’s just money? I’ll pay.” She dropped her designer bag onto the bed labeled “Sophie”. She pulled out her phone and scanned Becky’s QR code. “Honestly, people should get paid for their work. It’s basic decency.” She was dressed head-to-toe in luxury brands I’d only seen on TV. The fourth roommate, Chloe, followed suit. “It is pretty clean. Thanks, Becky.” “A thousand isn’t much. My family pays our cleaning lady three grand a visit.” “Here, I’ll send you two thousand. Consider the extra a welcome gift.” “Oh my god, thank you guys! You are so sweet. I’m so lucky to meet you!” Becky gushed. The three of them exchanged smiles. Then, they all turned to look at me. Their eyes were full of silent pressure. Waiting for me to pay up. Chapter 2 Staring into those familiar, judging eyes, the fog in my brain finally cleared. I realized I was living this nightmare for the second time. In my past life, I caved under the pressure and sent Becky 150 bucks. She didn’t accept it. Instead, she went around telling everyone I was a cheapskate who exploited her labor. Sophie and Chloe were rich kids; money meant nothing to them. They couldn’t understand why I wouldn’t just cough up a thousand dollars. They decided I was ruining the dorm vibe and started freezing me out. The other students followed their lead. If the rich girls didn’t like me, there must be something wrong with me. I was excluded from group projects, leading to failed classes. No one wanted to room with me on trips. I finally snapped and applied to move off-campus. The counselor called me in. Her opening line was brutal. “Becky comes from a similar background as you, yet she’s helpful and optimistic. Look at yourself—antisocial, selfish, running away at the first sign of trouble.” “The world doesn’t revolve around you! If you keep acting like this, maybe you should just drop out.” Those words haunted me. I spiraled into self-doubt and severe depression. I became a ghost in my own dorm room. The final push came from Becky. She found my diagnosis papers. She laughed. “A parasitic leech getting depressed? How dramatic. What kind of parents raise such a disgusting person?” At that moment, all I could see were my parents’ faces as they sent me off to college. Their hair graying from overwork just to pay my tuition. And I was failing them. In a moment of heat, I jumped from the seventh floor. I regretted it before I hit the ground. Seeing this scene again, my heart pounded. This time, I was going to give Becky back everything she gave me, with interest. Chapter 3 I whipped out my phone and scanned Becky’s code. I sent her three thousand dollars—every cent my parents gave me for the semester. “I just came from the countryside, I didn’t know the rules. Don’t take what I said to heart. Thanks to Sophie and Chloe for showing me the way!” “This is all the money my parents gave me. Take it all. I realized money isn’t important, our friendship is. I can always earn more money, but I can’t let your hard work go unrewarded.” Becky was stunned. Sophie smirked, satisfied. She liked being the leader. Becky was overjoyed, her finger hovering over the “Accept” button. Then Sophie spoke up. “Wait, you’re actually going to take it?” Becky paused. “Huh? Well, she sent it to me.” Sophie laughed, a weird, high-pitched sound. “Wow. Some people really have no shame. Taking a poor farmer’s blood money.” Chloe, Sophie’s loyal sidekick, chimed in. “Even my maid donates 800 a month to charity.” Becky’s face turned red. “Fine, I’ll send back two thousand then.” Sophie cut her off. “Are you that desperate for cash? We gave you four grand already. Isn’t that enough? You think I don’t know the dorms are professionally cleaned before we move in?” Becky turned purple. Her face darkened. “Fine! I’ll send it all back! Why are you yelling at me?” The money bounced back to my account. I asked innocently, “Are you sure? But you cleaned my bed.” Becky rolled her eyes at me and went to unpack her stuff without a word. Sophie wasn’t done. “Don’t be so petty. Giving us attitude just because we called you out? I hate people who hold grudges. If you don’t want to live here, move out.” Becky snapped. “Why should I move? You move! I was here first!” Maybe she got too worked up, but she suddenly collapsed to the floor. She laid there for a few seconds, eyes fluttering, then snapped them open. She looked around, confused. Finally, her gaze landed on me. She smirked. Then she climbed up, put on her headphones, and started crying loudly. “I even prepared gifts for you guys! My kindness is wasted!” Sophie loved being the center of attention. Hearing about gifts piqued her interest. “Really? You got us gifts? What are they?” Becky sobbed. “Nothing! You guys don’t see me as a friend, so I won’t bother you!” It sounded like she was cutting ties, but her tone was soft, inviting comfort. Sophie walked over. She didn’t apologize, but she tossed Becky a tissue. “Stop being dramatic. Show me the gifts.” Becky sniffled. “My family are farmers too, so it’s nothing expensive. Just some clay figurines I made over the summer.” “Oh, handmade? That’s cool,” Sophie said, eyes lighting up. She had a thing for “authentic” crafts. Becky quickly steered the conversation toward me. “My little gift is nothing compared to Lily’s. She said she was going to treat us all to a meal at the biggest restaurant near campus.” Becky shot me a challenging look. If I guessed right, she was reborn too. She used this trick in my past life. I immediately denied it and argued with her. It saved my wallet, but it deepened the misunderstanding. Sophie and Chloe thought I was a liar and a flake. She was trying to do it again. If I refused, I’d repeat the past. If I agreed, she’d order the most expensive items on the menu and stick me with the bill. I’d be broke and humiliated. But she forgot option three. Facing Sophie’s skeptical look, I denied half of it. “You must have misheard. I’m a farm girl, I can’t afford a fancy restaurant. I said I’m a pretty good cook. If we had a kitchen, I’d make you guys a home-cooked meal. Too bad I can’t afford to rent a place with a kitchen.” Sophie and Chloe exchanged smiles. The doubt vanished, replaced by their natural, breezy arrogance. They believed me over Becky. “A kitchen? That’s easy. My parents bought me a condo in the complex next door. I’m sick of takeout anyway. Let’s do it tonight.” Chloe nodded enthusiastically. Becky bit her lip, forcing a sinister smile. “That’s great! I can’t wait.” I knew she was plotting something. Buying expensive ingredients behind my back and making me pay. Or tampering with the food. She wanted to drive a wedge between me and the others. Sure enough, she “accidentally” sent me a text, deleting it two seconds later. But I saw it. [You think you can win just because you came back? I’ll make everyone hate you again! You’re too stupid to beat me. Kneel and apologize, and maybe I’ll go easy on you. Heehee!] I mentally gave her the finger. This time, I’m not losing. Chapter 4 After unpacking, we all went our separate ways. At 5 PM, Becky tagged me in the group chat. [@Lily, babe, where are you? Everyone’s here! We’re just waiting for the chef!] [So sorry, the guys from the class next door heard you were treating us and insisted on coming. I tried to say no, but they just wanted to join the fun. They said they won’t eat if there’s not enough food.] [Don’t worry, I bought them some snacks. They won’t touch your cooking.] She spammed a few photos. Sophie’s luxurious apartment was packed with people. Our entire department seemed to be there. And on the counter sat piles of premium seafood. [The seafood you asked me to order arrived! Come prep it before it goes bad!] Jesus. That was at least seven or eight grand worth of food. She claimed the extra guests wouldn’t eat, but could we really let them stand there watching us feast? She was setting me up to fail. I didn’t panic. I sent a “shocked rabbit” emoji and went silent. Because my Chopped Chili Fish Head was ready. I walked out of the kitchen with the dish. I heard Sophie screaming into her phone. “Becky! Why did you bring a crowd to my apartment? Did I say you could?” “Do you know how many germs that many people carry? I am speechless!” “And Lily changed the location at 2 PM! Why are you still at my place?” “The food is on the table, we’re not waiting for you. Don’t come! Since you brought everyone there, you host them. Don’t make me look cheap!” “You and Lily are both farm girls, you must know how to cook. Make them something! Don’t let them starve!” “What? You can order it but you can’t pay for it? You took four grand from us! Stop acting poor.” I placed the last dish on the table. Sophie hung up, following the scent to the table. Her eyes lit up. “It smells amazing! Is that wild mushroom soup?”

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I was the Upper East Side’s most notorious “ugly shrew.” But with parents who worshipped the ground I walked on, the city’s socialites and trust-fund babies had no choice but to kiss my ring. Until a “real” heiress appeared—resilient, unyielding, and unafraid of power. When my blood sugar crashed and I asked my fiancé, Preston, to grab me a piece of cake, she publicly denounced me: “Miss Vanderbilt, you have hands and feet. Why do you order people around? Slavery is over. There are no masters here!” When I sprained my wrist and asked my brother to open a water bottle, she sneered: “A parasite who only knows how to rely on others. You’re a disgrace to modern women!” Later, I gave her a taste of her own medicine. When she broke her foot and was being helped by someone, I threw shade: “Oh~ looks like the resilient modern woman needs to rely on others too~” Unexpectedly, the protagonist didn’t snap. My fiancé did. “Zoe Vanderbilt! You’re so toxic every day. No wonder everyone in our circle is disgusted by you!” 1 The crowd gasped. “Whoa, is Preston crazy? Is he not afraid Zoe will tattle and his dad will cut him off?” “I said it ages ago, those two are gonna break up. Zoe is ugly and has a terrible temper. Standing next to her, Preston looks like a kept man.” “Honestly, I’m more curious if Preston throws up when he has to kiss her…” The snickering around me was relentless. My face darkened, inch by inch. Preston’s expression was tight. He had spoken without thinking, and now regret was creeping onto his face. “You…” “Preston!” Before he could explain, Chloe—the Sterling family’s long-lost daughter who was switched at birth—interjected with emotion: “I thought everyone in this circle was a mindless follower, praising certain useless people who just leech off their parents.” “Now I realize, you’re different.” Her face was full of admiration, her eyes tender. Her sweet, innocent look made Preston’s softening expression harden again. He looked at me coldly, his tone commanding: “Zoe, apologize to Chloe.” I was so confused I almost laughed. “You worthy?” Preston was stunned for a second. “What do you mean?” “I mean, who do you think you are to order me around?” “Who gave you this confidence? Kanye or me?” My mouth was like poison. “Did I give you too much face lately, making you think you’re actually somebody?” “Ugly and dramatic. If you have nothing better to do, go back to the farm and shovel manure.” “I hear the pig farm is hiring!” I attacked indiscriminately. Preston’s face turned a beautiful array of colors. He took a deep breath and blurted out his true feelings: “I’m ugly? Have you looked in a mirror? Your face looks like a baboon’s ass, and your temper is worse than a rabid raccoon.” “I’ve tolerated you since we were kids. Did you really think I didn’t have a temper?!” Preston and I were childhood sweethearts. He knew exactly what to say to hurt me. I was born with a red birthmark on my face. It covered the right half of my cheek, irregular and hideous. But if you ignored the birthmark, the other half of my face was actually stunning. Honestly, this kind of birthmark could have been removed with surgery at birth, leaving negligible scars. Unfortunately, when I was born, my family was dirt poor. No money, no connections to find a surgeon. To save up for me, my parents worked odd jobs and looked for business opportunities. Since they had no time to take care of me, they sent me to the countryside to live with my grandma. I was six years old. Within days, I learned that Grandma was affectionately known as the “Village Karen”—but the hardcore version. If a single cucumber went missing from her garden, she’d curse from one end of the village to the other. Her vocabulary included colorful descriptions of various organs. She once raged so hard a thief confessed on the spot and got into a screaming match with her. The result? Grandma won. The thief even paid her fifty bucks for emotional distress. From then on, Grandma’s heroic figure was branded in my mind. Even her nickname felt like a badge of honor. I practiced daily. When classmates called me “Baboon Ass” again, I mimicked Grandma, hacking up a loogie and spitting right in their faces. Hands on hips, I’d scream: “You little punk! If you didn’t talk, I’d think a [beep] came to life! With that long face and thick neck, you must have been a [beep] in your past life!” “And your parents! How did they produce such a waste of space? Aren’t you embarrassed to be alive? Let me tell you, your parents didn’t want you anyway. Go home and check, they’re probably making a new kid right now!” I stole these insults from Grandma. I didn’t know what they meant, but they felt powerful. After successfully cursing them away, I turned around like a victorious general, only to see my parents standing there, eyes red. Mom was crying a river, hugging me tight. “I’m taking my daughter. If she stays here any longer, she’ll be ruined!” At the time, I didn’t understand why they were so sad. Despite my protests, they took me away. They had made some money and wanted to fix my face. But I refused. The doctor said they’d have to cut off the skin with the birthmark and stitch two pieces together. Thinking about it hurt. So I rolled on the floor, throwing a tantrum, refusing to agree. I even mimicked Grandma’s wise tone: “If someone won’t play with me because of my face, they don’t deserve to be my friend.” “My birthmark is a friendship filter! I’m not going to the hospital. Use the money for your business!” I had overheard them earlier. There was a great investment opportunity, but they didn’t have enough money for both the surgery and the investment. I said it because I was scared of pain. But my parents misunderstood. They hugged me, sobbing: “Zoe, you’re so sensible. Mom and Dad will work hard to give you a good life.” From then on, they worked like crazy. In a few years, I was living in a mansion, being driven to school, and eating meals prepared by a top chef. That year, I met Preston next door. He was the middle child, sandwiched between an older sister and a younger brother. He was invisible. Unloved at home, bullied at school. My sense of justice exploded. Channeling Grandma, I spit on half the class and cursed the other half until they cried for their mommies. Since then, Preston and I became best friends. When he was bullied, I rushed in to protect him. And when people called me “Baboon Ass,” he’d fight them. My parents thought he was sincere, so they arranged our engagement. They even gave the Sterling family business benefits, turning Preston from the ignored middle child into the family favorite. From twelve to twenty-two. I became the hot-tempered “ugly shrew” no one dared to mess with. He grew up handsome, becoming the circle’s Prince Charming. Everyone praised his good temper and gentle nature. I was proud. A man is a woman’s face—his praise was my glory! So for ten years, I thought our bond was unbreakable. Who knew he’d become the one calling me “Baboon Ass”? I stared deeply at the handsome man still demanding an apology. Suddenly, I let out a soft laugh. Under his confused gaze, I grabbed the cake next to me and smashed it right into his face. “Preston Sterling, we are done!” 2 I roared, lunging forward to grab his hair. I slapped his face, kicked his legs. “You finally said it! You always thought I looked like a baboon’s ass, didn’t you?!” “Have you been lying to me all these years? Using me?!” I was furious. The thought that he used me made me want to eat him alive! So, I did. I opened my mouth and bit his face hard. “Ahhh!” A blood-curdling scream echoed through the banquet hall. Chaos erupted. People tried to pull us apart, others filmed. I took the opportunity to scratch the people who badmouthed me earlier. In the end, we all went to the police station. Twenty people, all squatting in the precinct. I was bailed out first. My dad held my red hands, heartbroken. “Baby, does it hurt? Next time, Dad will get you gloves.” “That way, your hands won’t hurt when you hit people.” The police officer’s face darkened, but he couldn’t interfere in family matters. He coughed, reminding us: “…Please educate your child to be civilized.” Dad chose selective hearing and continued babying me. I pursed my lips, still angry. My sharp gaze swept over the people hanging their heads in shame. Finally, it landed on the two guys who insulted me. I articulated each word: “This isn’t over!” Dad backed me up, glaring at them. “This isn’t over!” Back home, I immediately posted on all social media platforms that I was breaking off the engagement with Preston. Mom sat beside me, hugging my shoulders. “Baby, don’t be sad over a Preston. Mom will introduce you to guys who are tall, handsome, and have abs.” “And tell me, who insulted you today? Mom will terminate all cooperation with their families immediately!” It’s always been like this. If I get bullied, my parents find a way to get justice and crush the other party. That’s why the socialites and rich kids never dared to insult me to my face. Facing my mom’s angry gaze, I shook my head. “Mom, I don’t want your help this time.” “I want to handle it myself.” Dad agreed immediately. “Good! Zoe is grown up. But if you need anything, tell us. Mom and Dad are always your backup.” I lowered my head, eyes tearing up. But just as I was feeling touched, my brother, Lucas, rolled his eyes. “Sis, honestly, with looks like yours, marrying Preston was a miracle.” “You didn’t cherish it, and now you’re breaking it off? Look in the mirror, you ugly freak.” He whispered the last part. But we all heard it. We aren’t deaf. Ever since he met Chloe, his attitude toward me changed completely. He became exactly like Chloe. If I asked him for water, he’d say sarcastically: “Right, some people rely on their deformity to get spoiled by parents and order others around like their hands are broken.” “Treating people like slaves. You think you’re an emperor, huh?” Even though I stopped asking him for anything, he still mocked my looks. I put down my phone, rolling up my sleeves to fight. But Dad beat me to it, slapping him across the face. His voice was cold and commanding: “Apologize to your sister!” I sat back down, smiling smugly at him. Lucas turned red with rage, screaming hysterically: “Dad! You hit me! You hit me for this ugly monster?!” “I’m leaving! I’m running away!” He turned to leave. Mom didn’t care. She said lightly, “If you leave, don’t come back.” Lucas didn’t stop, but he turned a corner and went upstairs. Dad was furious and wanted to follow him, but I stopped him. “Dad, forget it.” I wasn’t letting him off easy. I added, “Educate him later.” “Help me contact a hospital first. I want to get laser surgery for my birthmark.” Actually, with medical advancements, I had thought about removing it before. But over the years, I didn’t really care about it. Plus, the excuse I used years ago about “testing true love” made it hard to back down. And my parents, either brainwashed by me or protecting my ego, never brought it up again. With their money and power, no one could bully me anyway. But after this incident, I realized something. Testing true love with a birthmark is bullshit! People are shallow! Otherwise, why did Preston, who “passed the test,” change his heart so easily? 3 Hearing I wanted to remove the birthmark, my parents froze, then teared up. “Daughter, you finally figured it out.” Mom hugged me, relieved. “I’ll contact the hospital!” Dad whipped out his phone, afraid I’d change my mind. For a moment, I was embarrassed. As expected, they were just protecting my ego. Dad was efficient. That night, he contacted the best hospital in the US. Tickets booked. Before boarding, Mom hugged me reluctantly. “Baby, are you sure you don’t want me to go with you?” “Are you scared alone? Maybe I should come.” Recently, the family business was expanding exports, and they were working until 11 PM. I shook my head. “No, I want to go alone. When I come back beautiful, I’ll surprise you.” Dad was crying buckets. “Zoe, you hate pain. I just put 15 million dollars in your account. Do not save money for me.” Then, he pushed our Michelin-star chef toward me. “Daughter, you won’t like the food there. Take our chef. Let him take care of you, okay?” Me: “…” “Fine. Don’t cry. I’m leaving.” Mom waved. “Go.” Dad covered his mouth, sobbing. “Don’t save money!” Me: “…Okay!” The flight from Shanghai to the US took eleven and a half hours. As soon as I landed, I got a call from Preston. He was furious. “Why didn’t you answer? Do you know how many times I called?!” “I went to your house and you weren’t there. Where did you go?” I picked my ear, asking casually: “You care about me?” He paused, sounding unnatural. “Of course. You’re my fiancée. Who else would I care about?” “And what’s with the breakup post? I didn’t even get mad that you bit me. Are you going to keep being a brat?” Me, a brat? Aside from cursing, I’ve always been a law-abiding citizen. I gave him a taste of his own medicine, and now I have to apologize? Ordered to apologize by my ex-fiancé? I laughed. “Preston, what are you pretending for?” “Your acting was so good you almost moved yourself, didn’t you? Do you need an Oscar?” “Also, do you think I’m joking? You think you say a few nice words and I’ll come running back to protect you?” I cursed him out: “Little punk, go shovel manure!” I spat at the phone, blocked him, and deleted him. Then, the chef and I checked into a $10,000-a-night luxury suite. I slept in the next day, then went for my checkup. Because the birthmark was large and dark, I needed multiple laser treatments. Honestly, it hurt. And every time, my face swelled up, looking even more like a butt. I could only laugh through the pain, recording my recovery. Six months later. Lucas sent another sarcastic message. [Text: Sis, I told you not to break up with Preston. Now look, he’s with Chloe. You have nowhere to cry now.] Attached was a video. Preston and Chloe kissing passionately under a Ferris wheel. I tutted. “Wasted talent. Should do porn.” Seeing no reply, Lucas forwarded another video. [Text: Hahaha, Sis, you’re famous.] [Text: I knew your temper would get you canceled! Look, Evil Heiress abuses friends and hits people. Calling you Ugly Betty is a compliment.] I clicked the video. It was me beating up Preston six months ago. Edited heavily. With a passionate voiceover: “Rich people think they’re gods. Breaking up a couple wasn’t enough, she bit the boyfriend! Is this monster a dog?!” The comments were all cursing me. The top comment claimed to be an insider: [Insider: The video is true. Zoe relies on her rich dad to bully us. Once I bought her water a minute late, and she screamed at me, calling me a cripple and a retard! As for Preston and Chloe, I can’t say much, but they are truly in love.] Replies: [I knew Baboon Face was the mistress. Unless Preston is blind, he wouldn’t date that ugly freak.] [Exactly! Our Chloe is beautiful. Look at Preston’s eyes in the video, so much love.] I raised an eyebrow, almost laughing at the stupidity. Preston and Chloe, a golden couple? They met less than a year ago, and I went from fiancée to mistress? “Zoe, everything is packed. Let’s go to the airport.” The chef uncle pulled the luggage, excited to go home. I rubbed my fingers, deciding to delete my drafted explanation post. Revenge is sweeter face-to-face. 4 I didn’t tell anyone I was coming back. Not even my parents. Just like when I decided to leave. Decisive departure, surprise return. My villa was lit up, luxury cars parked outside. Before I even entered, I heard loud chatter. “Hey, Lucas, I bet your ugly sister isn’t traveling. She’s probably hiding somewhere crying because she’s so hideous!” That was Liam, the guy who called me ugly at the banquet. He was a scholarship student who sucked up to me to get into my high school. His dad was an alcoholic abuser, his stepmom wanted to crush him. Once, his dad came to school to make him drop out. He cried so hard I felt bad and helped him. He knew how to act. He became my lackey, doing everything without complaint. I gave him errands. Minimum $300 a pop, never further than 200 meters. Over the years, he made a fortune off me. And the result? Another ungrateful wolf. “Who cares if she’s dead or alive.” Lucas looked gloomy. “The old man and mom always favored that monster. They won’t even tell me where she is.” A gentle voice spoke up: “Lucas, don’t be angry. You’re the boy. Even if they favor Zoe, the inheritance will be yours.” “If you don’t like her…” Chloe smiled playfully yet seriously. “Just kick her out later. Give her nothing. Out of sight, out of mind.” Lucas’s eyes lit up. “Right! Why didn’t I think of that?” “I’ll suck up to the old biased couple now. When the company is mine, I can do whatever I want with Zoe.” He downed his red wine, imagining his bright future. I scoffed, walking into the living room. “Mom and Dad aren’t even dead yet, and you’re planning to take the company and kick me out?” Lucas’s eyes darkened. He glared at me. “Who are you? Who let you in?!” His cold gaze showed he didn’t recognize me. I didn’t waste words. I rushed forward, grabbed his hair, and slapped him. “You little sh*t! Six months and you grew some balls, huh? Plotting against me? Trying to take the company?” “Dream on, you idiot!” “The family business would go to a turtle before it goes to you!” Hearing my trademark insults, everyone realized who I was. “Zoe? Holy sh*t, did she get plastic surgery? How is she so hot?! Where did she go? No scars at all!” “Doesn’t look like surgery… it’s so natural. If it is surgery, I need the doctor’s number!” Unlike six months ago, no one tried to stop me. In three minutes, I beat Lucas black and blue. His eyes were unfocused, but he kept cursing: “You ugly freak, you dare hit me? I’ll tell Mom and Dad to kick you out!” The last sentence was weak, barely a whisper. I laughed. I grabbed his collar and flipped him over my shoulder, slamming him onto the floor. “Don’t bother telling them. I’m announcing it now: You are disowned!” “You played brother for a few years and thought you were the heir?” “I picked up a stray dog, and it turned into a wolf. Pfft!” “Get out!”

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When my crush’s family went bankrupt, I didn’t abandon him. I practically bought Liam Vanderbilt. But his heart belonged to his “white moonlight,” the girl who got away. He didn’t like me. No touching, no looking, and definitely no dessert. Every time I said the wrong thing, he’d threaten to leave my mansion. After he stormed out again, I did what I always did: sent an apology gift to his dingy rental apartment. But ten days passed, and he didn’t come back. Just as I was starting to panic, a wall of floating text—bullet comments—appeared before my eyes. “OMG, the female lead still doesn’t realize she sent the package to the wrong guy?” “She mistyped one digit on the apartment number and sent it straight to the poor scholarship student!” “This is the first time the gloomy villain has ever received a gift in his life, isn’t it?” “There’s a black card with $200k inside! I’m crying. Silas was about to drop out of school… now he can pay tuition.” … “The male lead is kinda pathetic though.” “Waiting for his sugar mama in that rental, eyes red from crying, and she never came.” “He thinks he’s been abandoned!” Chapter 1 Liam Vanderbilt ran away from home again. All because I accidentally knocked over the watch Clara gave him. In a fit of rage, he packed his bags and took the bus back to his old family home in the suburbs. It was the only thing his father left him before committing suicide after the Vanderbilt empire collapsed. A tiny, 500-square-foot studio. The location was terrible—basically the slums. Surrounded by thugs and drifters. Liam couldn’t stand living there, but he’d been a prince too long. He was stubborn and never bowed his head. Every time, I was the one who caved, begging him to come back to my villa. This time was no exception. I looked at my phone. My number was blocked. I opened the shopping app and started ordering gifts. Sneakers, gaming keyboard, mouse, headphones… all the things Liam liked. I also ordered a bouquet of sunflowers, his favorite. Inside, I tucked a bank card and a confession note from the florist. Usually, when I apologized this hard, Liam would unblock me within a week. Then he’d begrudgingly let me pick him up. But this time… It had been over ten days since I sent the package. Silence. Not a peep. It was like he decided to freeze me out completely. Not a single text. Chapter 2 I was confused. What was going on? Did Liam really decide to cut ties with me? I couldn’t sit still anymore. I drove out to the suburbs. It was a cluster of dilapidated apartment buildings. I parked and followed the address old Mr. Vanderbilt left me, searching door to door. I turned the corner to Building 5. Suddenly, I saw a boy walking out, holding a bouquet of sunflowers. It was the exact brand I ordered. And he was wearing the T-shirt I mailed to Liam a few days ago. …What the hell? Did I run into a thief? Or did Liam throw away my gifts, and this guy picked them up? I got out of the car and marched over. I was about to yell, but before I could open my mouth, a barrage of text floated across my vision. “Holy crap, the female lead still doesn’t know she sent the gifts to the wrong person!” “It’s because her phone glitch wiped her address book! She mistyped a digit and sent it straight to the villain’s house!” “Ugh, does the villain really live this poorly? His place looks even worse than Liam’s!” “It’s like 200 square feet. He shares a kitchen with the neighbors…” “Yeah, didn’t you know? The villain is dirt poor, an orphan, bullied since childhood. This is literally the first gift he’s ever received.” “There’s a black card with $200k in there. I’m sobbing. Silas was about to drop out, but now he can pay tuition.” … Wait a minute. What? Silas? Silas Thorne from my school? The super genius who’s always top of the class? How is he the villain? Chapter 3 I froze. I kept reading the comments. According to the original storyline, Silas was supposed to drop out. He was brilliant but destitute. Even with scholarships, he had a sick grandmother and a younger sister to support. He gave up his guaranteed admission to an Ivy League school to work in a factory. Then a fire broke out. A beam fell and crushed his leg. He used half his compensation money for his family and the other half to start a business. He was capable and hardworking. Within a few years, he became a tech tycoon. His future was bright until a competitor framed him, causing him massive losses. That competitor? Liam Vanderbilt. After Silas dropped out, Liam took his spot at the Ivy League. As the “male lead,” Liam’s life was smooth sailing. He made rich friends and got investments from industry bigwigs. Even though his products weren’t as good as Silas’, his connections crushed him. Eventually, Silas snapped. He thought about how Liam had everything only because he, Silas, had to drop out. He went “black.” He became a villain. He started stealing Liam’s projects, contracts, employees, investments… He became a terrifying, unhinged tycoon. I took a deep breath, trying to process this. Just as my brain was melting, another comment popped up. “Lol, look at the female lead’s innocent face.” “She doesn’t know that after the villain turns evil, he not only steals the male lead’s money but also his girl!” “He’s gonna lock her up in a dark room and go crazy. The censors won’t even let us see what happens next!” … EXCUSE ME? Steal me? What did I ever do to him?! The comments seemed to sense my breakdown. “It’s because she was too good to the male lead and ignored the villain. Silas started getting jealous of Liam back then…” “Sigh. If our Spring had been nicer to the villain, maybe she wouldn’t end up in the dark room later. Boohoo.” … I turned my head mechanically. I looked at Silas Thorne, who was hugging my gifts and walking toward his rundown building. A group of neighbors, boys his age with dyed hair who looked like troublemakers, surrounded him. They whistled and teased him. “Ooh, look at Silas! Getting gifts again?” “Who sent it? I’m dying to know!” “Must be a secret admirer. Tsk.” “Isn’t there a card in the flowers? Lemme see!” One of them grabbed Silas by the shoulder and snatched the sunflowers. He ripped out the card. And read it out loud— “I’ve sent you so many things. When will you realize how I feel?” “Can you just…” “Like me back a little bit?” “- Spring.” Chapter 4 “It’s a confession!!!” The gang of punks screamed. They pushed and shoved, acting like they’d seen a ghost. Everyone wanted to see the card. “Who is Spring?” “Is she a nerd like Silas? Some boring good girl?” Immediately— Silas kicked the guy hard. He snatched the card back. The crowd erupted in jeers. A blonde kid whistled. “You don’t know Spring? Spring Vance! The heiress!” “Super rich! Her family does real estate, right? Worth billions!” “I saw her driving an Aston Martin last time. So cool!” “Really? What does it look like?” “Like… hey, isn’t that one right there?” …Silence. Everyone turned to look at me. I didn’t have time to hide. Our eyes met. Silas was still holding the sunflowers. When he saw me, his face turned bright red. The punks exploded. “Spring Vance!” “That’s the heiress!” “Holy sh*t, she actually came here to find Silas!” “Silas, why are you standing there like a log? Go over there, you nerd!” “Don’t keep the lady waiting!” “Go!”

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My family’s gas line exploded. Just as I was about to rush into the inferno to save my sister, weird text started scrolling across the smoky sky: [Classic “Pick Me” heroine move. To get rid of her sister, she risked it all and turned on the gas herself to start the fire!] [Her sacrifice will pay off though. In her past life, her sister saved her but ended up with 80% burns and an amputation. This time, the fire is bigger. The sister is toast.] [Can’t be helped. There’s only so much inheritance to go around. The sister is the heroine’s only rival! Like she said, survival of the fittest.] [When the parents ask questions, all she has to say is “Sis was playing with fire,” and she’s off the hook.] [Calculating, ruthless, and cruel. Truly worthy of being the future heiress. So satisfying!] Really? I took two steps back, looked at my sister whose legs were pinned under the debris, and grinned. “Sis, in this life, let’s see who runs faster.” 1 A deafening explosion ripped through the air. The emptiness of death was instantly replaced by roaring flames. My sister’s voice made the nightmare all too familiar. “Help! Sister, help me! The gas exploded, the door fell on me! I’m trapped!” So, I really was reborn. Before I could even process it, dense bullet comments flashed before my eyes: [Personally started the fire… survival of the fittest… sister was playing with fire…] My mind went blank. Just because we were the “Real vs. Fake” daughters, Chloe wanted me dead? In my past life, I charged into the fire without hesitation and dragged her out. I wasn’t fast enough. I ended up with burns over 80% of my body. I spent the rest of my miserable life bedridden, eating, drinking, and shitting in the same spot, stripped of all dignity. Even as I died of depression and pain, I comforted myself thinking I traded my life for hers. It was laughable. It was all her plot. My rage was interrupted by Chloe’s pathetic plea. “Sister, save me!” Save her? I turned to run, but not before looking back with an innocent smile. “Sis, the fire is huge. How can I save you?” “When disaster strikes, it’s every woman for herself!” Her eyes changed instantly. The malicious glint vanished, replaced by big, crocodile tears. “Sister, did you forget? After you came back, our brother targeted you constantly. I was the one who helped you!” “I gave you everything you wanted. I always spoke up for you in front of Mom and Dad.” “Fine, sister, run. It’s my fault for taking your place and stealing your life. Consider this my atonement!” If this were the old me, my heart would have melted. Even though every time she “spoke up” for me, Mom and Dad hated me more, and my brother wanted to kick me out faster. I used to be so grateful to Chloe. I thought she tried her best, and I was just unlovable. Now I know. It was all part of her game. I laughed coldly. “Sis, your ‘kindness’ truly weighs a ton.” “Don’t worry. After you die, I’ll use the money Mom and Dad give me to buy you a massive plot in the cemetery!” “Sigh, what can I do? I’m the biological daughter. I have to stay alive. Who else will inherit the family fortune? An outsider?” The fire was raging. I didn’t have time to chat. I turned and ran. Suddenly, a noise behind me. I looked back. She had easily pushed the heavy door off her legs. Gritting her teeth, face cold as ice, she sprinted toward me. The heat was cooking me alive. I could smell my hair singing. I ran for my life. Suddenly, a hand clamped onto my arm. I was yanked backward. “Sister, since you don’t appreciate my kindness, don’t blame me!” “What’s wrong with being an orphan? Why did you have to come back and make me the fake daughter?!” “It’s you or me. Only when you’re dead will everything truly be mine!” She smiled, a venomous, triumphant grin, eager to watch me fall into the sea of fire. But I was ready. I grabbed a burning plastic vase and smashed it into her face. “Ahhh!” She screamed, squeezing her eyes shut in pain. I kicked her in the stomach and bolted. At that moment, maybe God decided to intervene. A beam collapsed with a crash, blocking her only exit. Her face was a bloody mess. Her eyes opened in pure terror. She tried to crawl, but the heat forced her to roll on the ground. “Sister! Please, sister, save me!” “No! I don’t want to die here!” I smiled brightly, dusting off my slightly singed hands. “Sis, you were right. It’s you or me. You have to die so I can have Mom and Dad’s love all to myself.” “Don’t worry, the fire department is on the way. If you’re lucky, they might find a whole corpse!” Amidst her screams and curses, I walked away lightly. 2 Just like in my past life, the fire was put out in twenty minutes. My parents and brother, who arrived late, followed the ambulance. Two hours later, we were in the hospital room, staring at the charcoal-like figure on the bed. The doctor looked grim. “The patient’s condition is critical. 90% of her body is burned. Her eyes are severely damaged.” “Luckily, she was wearing fire-resistant clothing, or it would be worse…” “We are doing our best to keep her alive, but you need to prepare yourselves. Paralysis, blindness… very likely.” “And with current medical technology, we can’t perform skin grafts on this scale. Her skin may never recover…” “Unless she’s transferred to the Sterling private hospital. That’s her only hope…” I sighed inwardly. She didn’t die? I guess evil really does live longer. A jarring voice broke my thoughts. My brother, eyes red, screamed at the doctor. “Impossible! My sister is lucky! She can’t be hurt like this! Is this some scam to get more money?” “I order you to cure her! Or I’ll smash this hospital to pieces!” My brother, Lucas, had been spoiled rotten. He had no filter. When the doctor ignored him, he turned his rage on me. “How did the gas explode? The house was fine!” “Zoey, you’ve always been jealous of Chloe! Did you cause this accident?!” “You already stole the marriage arrangement with the Shen family from her! Are you not satisfied?! Why did you hurt my sister?!” I was used to his outbursts. I lowered my eyes and pinched myself hard. Tears welled up instantly. “Mom, Dad, it’s all my fault. I was born unlucky. That’s why I was switched at birth and had to beg for food in the orphanage.” “If… if only I was stronger, healthier… maybe I could have saved my sister…” I wiped my tears, “accidentally” revealing the burns on my palms. Sure enough, my parents ate it up. Their cold, accusatory glares instantly warmed. “Alright, alright. No one wanted this to happen.” “Chloe’s accident has nothing to do with Zoey. It’s just bad luck.” They sighed, looking heartbroken. But not thirty minutes later, Dad sent someone to assess the property damage. Learning the house was burned to a crisp, their faces darkened. Worse than when they were looking at their dying daughter. Soon, they got restless. Mom and Dad left one by one. Lucas stayed a bit longer. But after a call from his frat bros about a street race, he left too. I stayed by the door. I needed the quiet to parse the floating text. [The heroine is so pitiful. Not a patch of good skin left… Even if she kills the rival, the Shen family won’t want her anymore…] [If she wants to compete, she needs a stronger backer.] [In Ocean City, besides the Shen family, there’s only the Sterlings.] [But would the Sterlings even look at her? Besides, you think the Sterlings are simply…] The Sterlings? Combined with what the doctor said… I suddenly thought, for someone as vain as Chloe, the Sterling family would be a perfect destination. 3 Nourished by our plastic family love, Chloe finally woke up three days later. “Mom, Dad, what’s wrong with my eyes?” “It hurts… everything hurts…” “Sister, you lit the gas on purpose! I was one step away from escaping, why did you push me back into the fire…” “I know I took a lot from you. But I was willing to give it all back! Why did you have to plan this fire and try to kill me?” I had to admire her. Just woke up, in excruciating pain, and still gaslighting like a pro. Luckily, I was prepared. Seeing the suspicion in my parents’ eyes, I spoke before my furious brother could. “Sister, what are you saying? How could I plan a fire?” “Mom, Dad, look. She said she wasn’t feeling well and asked me to come home to take care of her. She was the one home all day. How could I light the house on fire from outside?” I cried harder, mimicking her tone. “Sister, I know you hate that I came back and took some of Mom and Dad’s love… but I didn’t mean to. I’ll go back to the orphanage! I won’t be an eyesore anymore.” I pulled out screenshots of the texts Chloe sent me. They were fake, of course. But her phone was ashes. Dead men tell no tales. Sure enough, my parents looked at Chloe with doubt. Chloe shook with rage, her ruined face twisting into a monster’s mask. I didn’t give her a chance to defend herself. I wailed louder. “Mom, Dad, I get it! Sister thinks I’m not good enough for the Shen family marriage! She wants to stomp me down…” “I’ll go tell the Shen family right now. I’ll let Sister marry him.” “Young Master Shen is kind. If he knows she’s hurt, he’ll take good care of her.” I subtly reminded them of my value. Reminded them that I was the one marrying into the Shen family. I was the one who could elevate our family status. My parents snapped out of it. “Alright, I believe neither Chloe nor Zoey would start a fire. There must be a misunderstanding.” “Chloe, don’t worry. Once you recover, we’ll contact the Sterlings for help. We’ll make you beautiful again.” I nodded eagerly. “Yes, Sister, just rest.” “Actually, I don’t even like Young Master Shen that much. And I have a way to contact the Sterlings. Did you know? The Sterlings are royalty in the capital. They moved to Ocean City last month… Their only son was my classmate. He used to chase me…” “I think marrying into the Sterling family is a great option. They can help fix your skin.” “I’ll give Young Master Shen to you, Sister.” “Don’t worry, he won’t reject you.” I flashed a photo on my phone of me and Julian Sterling, the heir. Chloe stared at Julian’s face, her eyes dark and unreadable. I leaned in and whispered in her ear. “Sis, what goes around comes around. Just like a few days ago. Whoever lights the fire gets burned.” “Is Julian Sterling as stupid as Young Master Shen? Will he fall for your act?” “Don’t end up like your last life. Married into the Shen family only to rot alone while your husband keeps a harem outside.” 4 I was referring to her “glory” in her past life. Her face turned a shade darker. Through gritted teeth, she hissed, “We’ll see.” She wasn’t surprised when I mentioned rebirth. She knew. I left with my parents. Since the house was toast, we moved into a new villa. As soon as we got home, my parents pounced. “Zoey, is it true? You and Julian Sterling were classmates? He chased you?” Seeing the greed in their eyes, I held back my nausea and nodded. “Of course. Didn’t you see the photo?” “We were hugging. Isn’t that obvious?” “If we weren’t worried about school, we might have been together already.” It was a lie. Just a photoshopped pic from an award ceremony. Julian was famous in school, paparazzi followed him everywhere. Rumors were easy to manufacture. I found the photo online. It didn’t matter. These two looked at me like I was a walking ATM. “Why didn’t you say so earlier?” “The Shens are nice, but they’re nothing compared to the Sterlings! Julian is the sole heir! No scandals! Marrying him is hitting the jackpot!” I put on a touched smile. “Mom, Dad, you really think so? You gave me life, so I’ll listen to you.” “But… it’s been years. We haven’t talked much. I don’t know if he still likes me.” “And even if he does… our family can’t afford a dowry fitting for the Sterlings.” Mom waved her hand dismissively. “That’s easy. If you marry Julian, we’ll bankrupt the family to get your dowry ready!” They calculated fast. Whatever they spent, they’d earn back tenfold once I was Mrs. Sterling. I smiled. “Thanks, Mom and Dad.” I sent the recording of this conversation to Chloe. With a text: [Sis, if I really marry into the Sterling family, you’ll have nothing left.] Chloe was competitive. She wouldn’t sit still. The bullet comments confirmed it: [Heroine, don’t be stupid! It’s a trap!] [The Sterling family is a dragon’s den! You’ll be eaten alive!] [That idiot brother is helping her contact the Sterlings? He’s sending his sister to her death!] Good. Wait, not entirely good. Our family was small potatoes compared to the Sterlings. Could Lucas even reach Julian? Looks like I have to step in.

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On the first day of freshman year, news broke that I’d won a million dollars in a national gaming tournament. Suddenly, a girl I barely knew—Vanessa, the so-called “campus beauty” who played the poverty card like a pro—rushed the stage and fell to her knees, begging me to pay her mother’s medical bills. “This money might be nothing to you, but to me, it’s my mother’s life!” she sobbed. “I promise, I’ll pay you back in the future!” The crowd went wild. Everyone started chanting for me to be a hero, saying getting the campus beauty’s favor for a million bucks was a steal. I almost caved. My finger hovered over the transfer button. But then, rows of glowing text—like bullet comments on a livestream—floated across my vision: [Here it comes. After the moral kidnapping succeeds, the campus beauty and her family treat the MC like a walking blood bag. Can’t shake them off.] [Later, when the MC’s dad falls and needs emergency surgery, she won’t pay him back. Instead, she guilt-trips him, saying he’s forcing her and her mom to die!] [After that, she frames the MC for sexual assault, ruining his life. His dad dies because of it.] My hand shook. I canceled the transfer. I looked down at the teary-eyed beauty looking up at me with expectation. “Sorry,” I said. “I spent it all.” 1 The whole class gasped. Vanessa looked at me, shocked and outraged. “How could you spend it all so fast?” Hilarious. What right did she have to question my finances? I ignored her and walked back to my seat. But Vanessa scrambled up and chased after me. She asked if I was worried she couldn’t pay it back, offering to write an IOU. The floating text returned: [Don’t believe her! She uses disappearing ink for IOUs. When you ask for the money later, it’ll be a blank piece of paper!] [Later, when your dad is dying and you beg her on your knees, this manipulative witch will wave that blank paper around and accuse you of harassment!] [Also, her mom doesn’t have uremia. She’s alive and kicking. She just wants to scam money!] I let out a cold laugh. “Spent means spent. Why are you still asking?” Vanessa collapsed on the floor again, hugging my leg like a koala, sobbing uncontrollably. “I really, really need your help! Otherwise, my mom will die!” “My dad died early. My mom raised me all by herself. Seeing her like this while I can’t do anything… I should just die!” [Not just her, they both deserve it!] [Yeah, in their village, they’re notorious. They beat up disabled people, steal food from the elderly, and smashed someone’s pot when they got caught!] [You’re screwed if you help. Once the moral kidnapping works, they’ll bleed you dry. If you dare say ‘no,’ they’ll spread rumors you’re a creep.] [Everyone will think: why would he give a random classmate a million bucks if he didn’t have ulterior motives?] [Exactly. When she accuses you of assault later, the keyboard warriors will believe her instantly! Don’t give her a dime!] 2 I remained unmoved by Vanessa’s performance. Suddenly, the class president, Tyler, stood up. “Ethan, you’re in the wrong here. We’re all classmates. Why can’t you help? Are you really going to watch her mom die?” [This guy is a massive simp. He likes Vanessa, so of course he’s white-knighting for her!] Tyler’s crush on Vanessa was an open secret. Vanessa shot Tyler a grateful look, then continued her wailing. “You made that money so easily. Use it to do something good. I’ll be grateful to you for the rest of my life.” “Alright, alright, get up. Ethan isn’t the type to leave someone to die. I’m sure he’ll pay.” Tyler rushed over to help Vanessa up, even dusting off her clothes like a dutiful servant. Then he told her to pull up her Venmo QR code. Vanessa already had it ready. She unlocked her phone, and there it was. [She relies on her looks to cry poor and beg for money everywhere! If you don’t give, she claims you’re looking down on her!] I smirked. A real “princess.” I reached out and locked her phone screen. Tyler frowned instantly. “Ethan, what do you mean?” I shrugged. “Nothing. Why flash a QR code right off the bat? People might think she’s begging on the street.” Tyler got agitated. “She needs you to transfer money to save a life!” “Did I say I was transferring money? You’ve been talking to yourself this whole time. Interesting how eager you are to spend other people’s money.” “I don’t have that much money. I can only help organize. Is that a problem?” I scoffed. “Jeff Bezos has more money. Go organize him.” “You’re so generous. Maybe you can’t drop a million, but 100k or 200k should be easy for you, right? Doing good deeds shouldn’t be about the amount.” “…I don’t have 200k either! I’m a poor student!” “Borrow it. Take out a loan. Rob a bank. That’s how you show true love for Vanessa! It’s 2024, you think you can get the girl with just talk?” Tyler’s face turned the color of a pig’s liver. [Nice! Throw that hot potato right back at him!] [He likes Vanessa so much? Let him take out a loan!] Vanessa looked at Tyler with hopeful, teary eyes. “There’s strength in numbers… actually, my mom’s medical fees… a million might not be enough… President Tyler, maybe you could…” Tyler froze. He avoided Vanessa’s gaze. Maybe out of panic, or to deflect, he turned back to me and yelled: “I am the Class President! I order you to transfer the money to her right now!” The whole class stared, jaws dropped. Class President? What a massive power trip! One sentence, and he expects me to cough up a million? Even scammers put in more effort than this. Hearing the snickers around him, Tyler got even more agitated. “So what if I’m the Class President? I’m telling you to do a good deed! What’s wrong with that?” I laughed in his face. “A few days ago, there was a donation drive for alumni. Who donated five bucks and bragged about it like a saint? Oh right, you.” “And who do you think you are to order me around? Bossing me about my money? You worthy?” Students covered their mouths, giggling. Tyler’s face got redder. “You just have no heart!” “Yep, you’re right. I have no heart. You have a heart, so hurry up and donate a few hundred grand to Vanessa.” I shook off Vanessa’s grip on my leg. Pointing at Tyler, I said, “The President is a great guy. Campus loans are easy to get. Go hug his thigh instead!” Vanessa looked at Tyler expectantly. Tyler looked like a startled rat looking for a hole. 3 A few days later, the school organized a charity auction for underprivileged kids. I donated a valuable limited-edition figure without hesitation. It drew a lot of attention. A sophomore bought it for $3,000. I stuffed the cash into the donation box. But the moment the auction ended, Vanessa rushed up and hugged the donation box. Teachers ran over, asking what she was doing. Vanessa started weeping. “I’m the one who needs help the most! My mom has uremia and needs money to live!” “I tried begging my classmate Ethan, but he won’t help. Begging is useless. I have to do this.” “I can testify!” Tyler popped up like a whack-a-mole. “Ethan won a million in a gaming tournament. But seeing his classmate’s mother dying, he ignored her and lied about spending the money! I’m ashamed to be his classmate!” Everyone looked at me. No way was I taking this rap. I confronted Tyler immediately. “Who made the rule that I have to help a classmate in trouble? Do you know how much a million dollars is? She’s not my mom. Why should I help?” People nodded. Helping is voluntary, and it should be within one’s means. What kind of idiot drops a million to save a “classmate’s” mom? While Tyler stuttered, I continued. “Kindness isn’t just lip service. If you’re so charitable, why did you auction off a broken water bottle today? Then you turn around and demand I donate a million. Tyler, don’t be such a hypocrite.” “A million is nothing to you!” Tyler argued weakly. I looked at him with disdain. “Whether it’s nothing or everything is none of your business. Can you stop being generous with my money to chase girls? Using such dirty tactics, sacrificing others to make yourself look good—it’s disgusting.” The teachers and students got it. Their looks turned judgmental. While Tyler stood there embarrassed, Vanessa tried to run off with the donation box. Luckily, teachers and students stopped her. Vanessa wailed loudly. “A person in need is standing right here! Are you all as heartless as Ethan? Is your charity just for show?” “Vanessa, watch your mouth. Stop dragging my name into this!” I warned her, pointing a finger. Vanessa claimed I was threatening her and sat on the ground, throwing a tantrum. [She wants to blow this up. She’s an expert at playing the victim and using public opinion to pressure people!] [Watch out for Tyler. In your past life, he’s the one who edited the videos to frame you for assault!] I sneered internally. Fine. Two can play at that game. I crouched down and asked Vanessa. “Your mom really has uremia? Can you prove it?” Vanessa’s eyes darted around. She couldn’t look me in the eye. Tyler chimed in. “Who would curse their own family with something like that? Would you, Ethan?” I was sick of him. I glared sideways. Tyler instinctively stepped back but kept running his mouth. “If he doesn’t believe it, Vanessa, bring the medical diagnosis tomorrow. Let’s see if he pays up then!” Vanessa was silent for a moment, then nodded vigorously, promising to bring the papers. [Don’t believe her. It’s fake! She’s going to forge it!] Forged? Even better. 4 The next day, when Vanessa handed me the diagnosis, Tyler filmed the whole thing. He provided commentary, saying I didn’t believe a classmate’s tragedy, and that I promised to donate my million if the papers were real. I grabbed him, snatched his phone, and smashed it on the floor. Tyler was stunned. I grabbed his collar, fist tight. “You are so damn annoying. Stay away from me. Do you hear me?” “You broke my phone!” “I’ll buy you a new one. Scram!” I shoved him away. He frantically pulled out his SIM card and ran. I turned back and snatched the diagnosis from Vanessa. I looked closely. Pretty good forgery. I started to walk away with it. Vanessa blocked me. “Why aren’t you giving me the money? What are you doing with the papers?” Guilty conscience. I didn’t say a word, just tried to leave. Suddenly, Vanessa reached out to snatch the papers back, screaming that I was breaking my promise, and ripped them in half. I sneered. “Doing that… proves these are fake, doesn’t it?” “N-No!” “Then why are you so agitated?” “I’m afraid you’ll use them for something bad! If you won’t help, fine, but don’t spread my business around to laugh at me!” [She’s going to use public opinion to pressure you! Careful!] [That bastard Tyler didn’t go far. He’s recording with a burner phone!] I turned around. Tyler sprinted away. That night, a post appeared on the school forum.

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I meticulously cultivated my Princess Sissy Roses, only to have a popular B-list celebrity tear them all up for her reality show. Her tone was sickeningly innocent. “These flowers are so pretty, they should be made into crowns. Their owner really doesn’t know how to use them.” “Let me help them fulfill their true purpose.” In the variety show, she flashed a bright smile, showing off her new flower crown to her fans. Afterward, she refused to apologize and even led her fans in cyberbullying me. Looking at my chaotic, trampled garden, I smiled too. “This garden is insured for $15 million.” “According to the contract, you owe me $150 million!” Chapter 1 I was woken up by the blaring alarm of my security cameras. I threw on a robe and groggily walked outside. My cottage is secluded. I rarely get visitors, and with a locked gate, who would be trespassing at the crack of dawn? The yard was swarming with people. At least a dozen strangers had surrounded my little sanctuary. My front gate, which I had beautifully woven with flowering vines, had been ripped open. Vines were torn and discarded on the ground. The wooden gate hung crookedly off its hinges. My meticulously arranged flower beds had been trampled, a muddy path stomped right through the middle. Burly cameramen were pointing their lenses at a girl standing in the center of my ruined garden. She was undeniably pretty, basking in the spotlight. She casually plucked a few more blooms, weaving a flower crown. “Babies, look at this crown! Doesn’t it suit me perfectly?” “It’s a shame there’s only one type of flower. If there were others to mix in, it would be even prettier.” She smiled brightly, dimples showing. I recognized her. It was Bella Rose, the current “It Girl” of reality TV. I was actually watching her latest drama. Online, she had a reputation for being gentle, kind, and down-to-earth. A real-life fairy. I used to like her. I never expected my first real-life encounter with her to look like this. Looking at the crown on her head and my devastated garden, my anger flared. “Who are you people? Who gave you permission to come in here?” The production crew seemed surprised someone actually lived here. The director stepped forward, explaining, “We’re with the production team. Just shooting a quick segment.” “Can’t you see this is private property? You broke my gate to get in!” Bella took off her flower crown. “It’s just some flowers. Here, take them back.” She held the crown out to me. I didn’t move. Seeing my refusal, Bella threw the crown on the ground in a huff. She looked me up and down with disdain. “Here’s five hundred bucks. That should cover what a country bumpkin’s flowers are worth.” Her assistant pulled out five hundred dollars and threw it at my feet. “Take the money and leave. Don’t disturb Bella’s shoot.” The crew moved to shoo me away, assistants forming a wall with blockers. Country bumpkin? I almost laughed. Sure, I ran out in my pajamas with bedhead, but I am far from a “country bumpkin.” Trespassing, vandalism, and now trying to pay me off like I’m a beggar? The audacity is truly breathtaking. Chapter 2 Honestly, I just wanted a sincere apology. If they had been decent, I might have let it slide. But with this attitude? The gloves are off. “What show is this?” The director, thinking I was backing down, softened his tone. “Miss, we’re filming Country Bliss. We saw how beautiful this cottage was and just wanted to capture some shots.” I sneered. “Just wanted to capture some shots? So that gives you the right to break and enter?” The director looked around, realizing they were in the wrong. “Look, how much compensation do you think is appropriate?” I chuckled. “How much? I’m afraid you can’t afford it.” These weren’t just any roses. They were the world-renowned Juliet Roses, often called the “£3 million rose.” Juliet Roses are notoriously difficult to grow. I spent a fortune and countless hours cultivating them. And, I insured the garden for $15 million. Bella, resting on the sidelines, cut in impatiently. “Director, why waste breath on a villager? She just thinks five hundred isn’t enough. Give her two grand and be done with it.” I walked up to Bella and slapped her across the face. “Villager? Aren’t your ancestors from the countryside too?” My move was so sudden, even her assistant didn’t react in time. Five red fingerprints bloomed on her cheek. Bella clutched her face, tears springing to her eyes. “You dare hit me?! I’ll kill you!” She lunged at me. I side-stepped. Momentum carried her forward, and she face-planted into the dirt. Her assistants finally snapped out of it and rushed to help her up. “What are you standing there for?! Beat her up!” Bella, hands on hips, screeched at her staff like a banshee. “Useless idiots! Get her!” I shook my head. This shrew behavior… where did the “human fairy” go? The assistants charged. I didn’t flinch. Taekwondo and kickboxing lessons weren’t for show. A few goons? Please. “Stop!” The director suddenly shouted, halting the assistants. He whispered something in Bella’s ear. The crew started packing up to leave. Before going, Bella glared at me venomously. “You bitch, just you wait!” I glared back. We’ll see who’s waiting. 3 That afternoon, while I was sipping coffee, my assistant called. “Boss, you’re trending!” “Send it over.” My assistant, Leo, sent a link. It was a video posted by the show’s official account. Heavily edited. It only showed me storming out, the director explaining politely, Bella offering the crown, her assistant offering money, and finally, me refusing the cash and slapping Bella. The video ended with a freeze-frame of Bella clutching her face, a single tear rolling down. Twenty minutes in, it was the #1 trending topic. Hundreds of thousands of comments. [Who is this Karen? How dare she hit our Bella! Dox her!] [Look at that handprint. My heart is breaking for Bella.] [Bella is so pitiful. Why didn’t the staff stop her?] [Useless crew! Protect our queen!] [Hit her back! Beat her ass!] [Someone find her address. I’m going to teach this bitch a lesson for Bella!] [Wait, isn’t the crew in the wrong here? That’s private property.] [Yeah, the yard looks trashed. The owner probably got mad because they wrecked her stuff.] [Bella’s comment was kinda passive-aggressive though…] [To the person above, our Bella using those country flowers is doing them a favor!] [Off topic, but the crazy lady is actually kinda hot even with messy hair.] […] There were a few sensible comments, but they were quickly drowned out by the fan mob. Bella posted a selfie on Weibo: [Thanks for the concern, babies. I’m okay.] The photo showed a faint red mark on her face. The comments were a flood of sympathy for her and vitriol for me. I closed the app. Edited videos are boring. The raw footage is where the fun is. The crew didn’t know my cottage is rigged with hidden cameras. Their little break-in was recorded in 4K. 4 That night, I uploaded the unedited footage. I had Leo put $15,000 into promoting it to ensure it hit the prime-time feed. Marketing accounts picked it up instantly. By the time Bella’s PR team realized what was happening, it was too late. The comments section did a 180. [Plot twist! Bella is actually like this in private? Unfollowing.] [The production team is trash. Breaking and entering and acting like they own the place?] [They ruined such a beautiful garden. I’d be pissed too.] [Team Crazy Lady. The crew and Bella are shameless.] [That slap was satisfying. Queen behavior.] [But there was no “No Trespassing” sign. They probably didn’t know.] [Exactly. Using the location is free publicity. She should be paying Bella for the exposure!] [Bella even gave her $500. That’s more than enough for some wild flowers. She’s just greedy.] I scoffed at the comments. Publicity? Exposure? The dog really does take after its master. Shameless. Suddenly, shouting erupted outside. “Bitch! Come out!” “Come out here! How dare you set me up and post that video!” I walked to the gate. Three people stood there: Bella, the assistant who threw money at me, and a man I assumed was her manager. Bella was kicking my gate. Seeing me, she screamed, “You cheap bitch!” “Miss Rose, there are cameras here too. Want another viral video?” “You…” Bella glared but stopped kicking. “Miss, Bella was impulsive today. Can we come in and talk?” The manager asked. “No need. Say it here.” “We want to discuss compensation and deleting the video.” The manager slid a contract through the gate. “Take a look.” I flipped through it. They offered $15,000. In exchange, I delete the video and issue a statement saying I’m not the owner, just a friend watching the house, and that the owner had actually given permission. “This $15,000 is for your trouble. If you’re not satisfied, we can offer you a job on the crew,” the manager said, holding out a stack of cash. “I can delete the video, but I won’t lie. And Bella needs to apologize to me.” I tapped the cash against my palm. “Why should I apologize to you?!” Bella shrieked. “So you’re not sorry? Then no deal.” I threw the cash back at Bella. The bills fluttered around her furious face. “Bye.” “Bella, apologize!” The manager barked. “Wait. I don’t want an apology anymore. We’re done here.” I cut her off. “Don’t be ungrateful! Do you know who my backer is? My boyfriend is the heir to the Lin Group!” “Lin Chen?” I asked, raising an eyebrow. Thinking I was scared, Bella smirked. “Yeah. Scared now? Kneel and apologize, then delete the video, or I’ll make sure you never work in this town again!” “I’m shaking. Let’s see who ends up jobless.” I turned and walked back inside, ignoring her screaming. Lin Chen’s girlfriend? She probably doesn’t know Lin Chen is my…

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In the middle of the executive meeting, Liam’s new assistant dumped an entire venti boba tea on my head in front of everyone. “You’re just a slacker who hides in her office playing video games all day. How dare you question my proposal?” “I’m firing you. Get out!” I stood up calmly, wiped the sticky mess off my face, and looked at Liam. He frowned, deliberately avoiding my gaze, and chose silence. I smiled and pulled out my phone. “Dad, did you hear that?” “They told me to get lost.” Chapter 1 Monday. I was in the zone, about to clutch a 1v5 in my game, when someone knocked on my office door. “Manager Shen, Tiffany said all managers need to be in the main conference room in ten minutes.” It was Jenny from Admin, sounding frantic. I didn’t look up. My fingers flew across the keyboard. “Not going. Busy.” In the six months I’d worked here, I’d never attended a single meeting. Not because I didn’t have to, but because I didn’t want to. “But…” Jenny hesitated. “Tiffany emphasized that no one can be absent today. She said it’s Mr. Liam’s order.” My fingers paused. My character got one-shotted by the boss. Seeing the grey screen, I cursed internally and slammed my laptop shut. When I arrived at the conference room, it was already packed. Seeing me, many people whispered, shooting me weird looks. “Why is Manager Shen here?” “Doesn’t she skip every meeting?” “Who knows? Probably Tiffany making a power move.” “Tiffany’s been gunning for her. Today’s gonna be a show.” … I ignored the gossip, took the furthest seat in the corner, and pulled out my phone to restart my game. Half an hour later, Liam and Tiffany finally strutted in. Tiffany held a stack of files, beaming like she just won the lottery. “Thank you all for taking time out of your busy schedules.” Liam scanned the room. His gaze lingered on me for less than a second before moving on. “Tiffany has an important proposal to announce today.” Tiffany cleared her throat and launched into her “revolutionary” marketing plan. I played my game, listening with one ear. The more I heard, the more ridiculous it got. The budget was astronomical, and it completely missed our market positioning. “…So I believe we should immediately invest 12 million dollars to capture the high-end market within three months!” Tiffany concluded passionately. Scattered applause echoed in the room. I couldn’t help it. Without looking up, I said, “Spending 12 million on useless exposure? You might as well throw the cash off the roof. At least that would go viral.” The room went dead silent. Liam frowned slightly. “What did you say?” Tiffany’s voice spiked. I finally looked up, speaking slowly. “I said, your plan is full of holes.” “First, your target demographic is wrong.” “Second, your channel selection is trash.” “Finally, your ROI calculation is basically a fantasy.” “Spending that 12 million is like throwing it into the ocean.” “Actually, no. At least throwing it in the ocean makes a splash.” Tiffany’s face turned crimson. She grabbed the boba tea on the table and stormed over to me. “You’re just a slacker who hides in her office playing video games all day. How dare you question my proposal?” She practically screamed it. Then— Splash! The entire cup of tea hit my face. Sticky liquid dripped down my cheeks, staining my white dress brown. The room was so quiet you could hear a pin drop. Everyone held their breath. “Sarah Shen, as the CEO’s assistant, I’m firing you. Get out!” Chapter 2 Tiffany looked down at me, triumphant. I stood up slowly, took a handkerchief from my pocket, and wiped my face. Then I looked at Liam. He frowned, avoided my eyes, and stayed silent. I laughed. I spoke into my phone, which was on speaker. “Dad, did you hear that?” “They told me to get lost.” Silence for two seconds. Then a deep, powerful voice replied. “Understood. I’ll handle it.” I only took this job because of an arranged marriage my grandfather set up. Liam was my fiancé. I hated arranged marriages, but my dad guilt-tripped me with the “filial piety” card until I caved. To “bond,” Dad made me join Liam’s company, the Fu Group. For six months, I played the slacker gamer. But behind the scenes, I pulled strings to make the company’s stock soar. We even went public. The Fu Group became a star enterprise, and Liam made the Forbes list. Despite my help, we barely talked. In our few dates, I realized he only knew me as his fiancée, not my true background. … I sat back down in the corner and resumed my game. My character respawned. My fingers danced, ignoring the tension in the room. Tiffany turned green. She didn’t expect me to ignore her authority. She slammed the table. “Sarah Shen! Where do you think you are?” “Everyone is focused on the meeting, and you’re playing games?” I sneered. “I hit my annual KPI. What’s wrong with playing a game?” “If you don’t get out, I’m calling security!” I didn’t look up. “Suit yourself.” The executives looked at each other. Some pretended to read files; others peeked at Liam, waiting for his move. Liam finally stood up. He wore a sharp black suit, his expression cold. He looked at me with impatience and indifference. “Sarah, your performance numbers are good.” His voice was calm but authoritative. “But this is a workplace, not your living room.” “Leave the conference room immediately. Don’t disrupt the meeting.” My fingers paused. My character died again. I looked up, meeting his gaze with a smirk. “CEO Fu, are you sure you want to kick me out?” Liam frowned, his tone icier. “I won’t repeat myself. If you have any professionalism, you should know your place.” “And if I don’t want to leave?” “Then don’t blame me for being ruthless.” Seeing Liam take her side, Tiffany got bold. She rushed over and slapped the phone out of my hand. Smack! The phone hit the floor, screen shattering into a spiderweb. “Sarah Shen, don’t be shameless!” She grabbed my collar and yanked me up. “Mr. Liam spoke. Why are you still here? Get out!” From day one, Tiffany hated me. Once, passing Liam’s office, I heard her loud complaining: “Liam, we aren’t a charity. Paying a slacker to play games all day is unfair to the other employees.” Loud enough for the whole floor to hear. Liam didn’t respond. But through the window, I saw him pause while reading documents. Since then, Tiffany got worse. She’d “accidentally” mention my “achievements” in meetings. “Some people take a high salary but don’t even show up to meetings. Are they working or on vacation?” Rumors spread. People said I was a nepotism hire, a rich girl coasting, taking bets on when I’d get fired. I knew it all. I just didn’t care. Chapter 3 But my indifference only emboldened her. Now, she was crossing the line. I wasn’t having it. I grabbed her wrist and twisted. “Ah!” Tiffany screamed, letting go of my collar. She stumbled back, her arm hitting the edge of the conference table. Her watch made a loud crack against the wood. She looked down, face paling. The face of her expensive Patek Philippe had a distinct scratch, glaring under the lights. “You… you…” She trembled, rage exploding in her eyes. “Sarah Shen, do you know how much this watch costs?” “It was a birthday gift from Mr. Liam! It’s worth $120,000!” I straightened my collar slowly. “You can’t stand steady on your own feet. Who’s to blame?” “Sarah!” Liam finally snapped. “That’s enough!” “You disrupted the meeting, and now you damaged personal property.” “As CEO, I’m officially firing you.” “Pack your things and leave. Now!” Tiffany screeched, “Liam, don’t let her go! She has to pay for the watch!” The room was dead silent. Everyone looked at me with pity or glee, waiting for the show. “Fine. I’ll pay.” “$120,000, right?” I picked up my shattered phone. Screen cracked, but it worked. I dialed a number. Before I could speak, Tiffany sneered, “Not 120k. 1.2 million!” I paused and looked at her. “You sure?” “Of course!” Tiffany was arrogant. “A gift from Liam is priceless!” “Charging you 1.2 million is letting you off easy!” “Everyone, am I right?” Tiffany wouldn’t let go. She knew my salary. I couldn’t afford it. She wanted to humiliate me. The other executives chimed in. “Yeah, you can’t put a price on a gift from the CEO,” the CFO said, adjusting his glasses. “Manager Shen, just accept it.” “We aren’t a charity. You break it, you buy it,” the Marketing Director scoffed. “But with your salary, you’ll be paying it off until retirement.” Laughter erupted. They hated the “slacker.” They loved kicking me while I was down. Liam stood there, frowning, but didn’t stop them. I didn’t get angry. I looked at Tiffany. “1.2 million. Final offer?” Tiffany blinked, then laughed. “Sarah, stop acting. You make peanuts. 1.2 million? You’d have to sell a kidney.” I ignored her and spoke into the phone. “Get me 1.2 million in cash. Delivered to the Fu Group conference room. ASAP.” Tiffany scoffed. “Pfft. Who are you trying to scare with a phone call?” I waited silently. Ten minutes later, the door opened. A man in a sharp suit walked in. Behind him were three bank staff carrying metal briefcases. He walked straight to me and bowed. “Miss Shen, here is the 1.2 million you requested.” I nodded. “Thanks. Put it there.” The cases opened. Stacks of hundred-dollar bills gleamed under the lights. The room went silent. Eyes were glued to the cash. The air felt thin. Tiffany looked sick. She stared at the money, then at the man in the suit. Suddenly, the CFO turned pale. “Mr… Mr. Lu? The Bank President?!” Chapter 4 Lu Mingyuan. President of the City Bank. A big shot even Liam’s grandfather struggled to meet. Yet here he was, bowing to me, calling me “Miss Shen.” Liam hesitated, then stepped forward, extending a hand. “President Lu, what brings you here personally?” “My grandfather talks about you often. He’d love to see you.” Lu didn’t even look at him. He just nodded slightly. Then he turned to me. “Miss Shen, let me know if you need anything else.” He left immediately. Efficient. Like staying a second longer was a waste of time. Liam’s hand froze in mid-air. His face turned red, then white. Tiffany’s arrogance evaporated. Her legs went weak. Sweat beaded on her forehead. I casually pulled a stack of bills from a case and patted her face with it. “Assistant Tiffany. 1.2 million. Not a penny less.” “Now, the watch is mine.” I ripped the Patek Philippe off her wrist and tossed it into the trash can. “You!” Tiffany looked like she wanted to kill me. I turned to Liam and smiled. “CEO Fu. I paid for the watch.” “Now, let’s talk about compensation for my phone.” Tiffany paused, then laughed scornfully. She crossed her arms. “How much can a Huawei be worth?” I held up one finger. “Not much. Just 15 million dollars.” The room exploded. Laughter everywhere. The Marketing Director slammed the table. “15 million? Did the boba tea fry your brain?” The CFO smirked. “Company policy says market value compensation. Your phone isn’t even worth a fraction of that.” Tiffany gloated. She walked up to me. “Here, I’ll be generous. I’ll call the psych ward for you.” “Delusions need treatment.” Liam frowned but stayed silent. I remained calm. “You’re right. A normal Huawei isn’t worth much.” Tiffany snorted. “Glad you know. Stop embarrassing yourself!” “Too bad this isn’t a normal Huawei.” The door opened again. A middle-aged man in a grey jacket walked in, flanked by eight bodyguards. Howard Huo. Senior VP of Huawei Group. A man who only appeared at global press conferences. Liam’s face changed. He rushed over. “Mr. Huo? Why are you here?”

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