It was the first day of college. The scholarship student my dad was “sponsoring” drove my brand-new Maserati to registration. I tried to suppress my rage and told her to give the car back. She rolled her eyes at me. “Just because I’m the billionaire’s main mistress, you think you can demand things? Even if you climbed into his bed right now, you’d only be number four in line!” I suspected I was going deaf. I couldn’t help but ask a few more questions. She whipped out her phone to show me a selfie of them together. “The Big Boss sponsors you, but he sponsors me more! Look at you, you look like a total prude. In terms of status, I’m the honored concubine, and you’re just a maid who hasn’t managed to sleep her way to the top yet!” “Since when do the servants use better stuff than the masters? I heard the Boss bought you a villa last week? Transfer it to my name, and maybe I’ll take you along tonight to serve him.” I laughed out of sheer anger and called my mom immediately. “Mom, winter is coming. It’s time to let your trophy husband go bankrupt.” 1 On registration day, I drove my Porsche Cayenne to campus. This was already my biggest compromise. To celebrate me starting college, my mom, without a second thought, had bought me a hot pink Maserati. As she put it: “Young girls should drive bright colors!” But the attention that car grabbed was just too intense. As a freshman, I couldn’t handle that kind of heat. As soon as I parked near the freshman check-in, I heard a commotion to my right. “Holy crap! A Maserati! Is that the new GT?!” “Who is that? Making such a scene on the first day? That’s aggressive!” “Check the plate! Ending in 0728? Birthday plates? Damn, her family must be loaded!” My eyelid twitched. I followed the noise, and my heart skipped a beat. That flashy pink Maserati being surrounded, photographed, and screamed over… It wasn’t the new car my mom gave me last week. It couldn’t be anyone else’s. The plate ended in 0728—my birthday. No mistake. My stomach dropped. I remembered my dad acting all mysterious this morning, borrowing my car key. “Daddy’s got a surprise for you for school,” he’d said. Surprise? This was a heart attack! But a tiny part of me was hopeful. I grabbed my suitcase and squeezed through the crowd. The chatter was getting louder, the sound of camera shutters non-stop. “Man, she must be a top-tier heiress.” “I’m crying. I’m just trying to get my license, and she starts college in a Maserati…” Just then, the Maserati door opened. A foot clad in a four-inch stiletto stepped out. Followed by a girl squeezing out of the car. She was wearing a Chanel suit that looked suspiciously cheap, makeup thick enough for a nightclub, and carrying a canvas tote bag printed with “Sterling Charity Foundation.” She acted like she owned the place, circling the car, blowing a kiss to the staring crowd, and speaking in a voice dripping with affectation: “Alright, alright, stop taking pictures. It’s just a daily driver. Keep it low profile.” The tiny hope in my heart shattered into dust. It was officially a nightmare. My suitcase hit the ground with a loud thud. Seriously, who the hell is she? 2 The noise I made obviously caught her attention. She turned her head, her gaze sweeping over me like a searchlight dipped in chili oil—hot and stinging. When she saw the plain Converse on my feet, her look turned into undisguised contempt. She suddenly curled her finger at me, her voice sharp enough to scratch glass. “Hey! You with the suitcase! Yeah, you! Come here!” I frowned, standing my ground. My eyes locked on her dark purple fingernails as I asked, “That car is mine. How did you get it?” The crowd went silent for half a second. Then, like a powder keg lighting up, they exploded into laughter. “Did she say the car is hers? Is she crazy?” “Dressed like a high schooler, backpack, canvas shoes… trying to claim a Maserati? Brave, sister!” The girl paused, then laughed so hard she trembled, as if she’d heard the world’s best joke. She puffed out her chest, pulling the tote bag with the logo prominently in front of her, practically shoving it in everyone’s face. “Yours? You?!” She pointed at the canvas bag, emphasizing every word: “Do you know what this is? It’s a special pass from the Sterling Charity Foundation! I am personally looked after by the Billionaire himself! Someone like you…” She glanced at my sneakers again and let out a scoff. “You can’t even afford decent shoes. Do you really think we’re on the same level?” Obviously, in the presence of a Maserati, everyone had stopped using their brains. The crowd’s murmurs turned malicious, attacking me like oil thrown on a fire. “Oh, she’s trying to act like a gold digger to get noticed? Thick skin.” “Takes all kinds, huh? Losing your dignity for money? I’m embarrassed for her.” “Tsk tsk, she looks so innocent, who knew…” I was speechless. These were my most low-key shoes, and they still cost $800. But they were definitely better than the knockoff outfit she was wearing. And that tote bag… What “Sterling Charity Foundation”? I’d never seen my mom organize a charity foundation. Oh, wait… Mom didn’t, but Dad did. I remembered three years ago, my dad mumbling something about the corporation having “charity quotas,” so he set up a small foundation. He was in charge and said he was helping a “financially struggling student with excellent grades.” I think her name was… “Jessica Jordan?” 3 The girl raised an eyebrow. She crossed her arms, lifting her chin even higher. “Oh? You have some sharp eyes after all. You recognize me? Then you should know not to mess with me.” I couldn’t stop the cold sneer forming inside me. I didn’t expect my trophy-husband dad to prepare such a big “surprise” for me! Taking the key to my new car to let this charity case flex? Interesting. Since when did the “Billionaire” shift from my mom to Richard Sterling? I lost my patience, pulled out my phone, and took two steps forward. I looked Jessica dead in the eye. “I’ll say it one more time. This car is mine. The 0728 is my birthday. Give me the key. Now.” Jessica laughed dramatically, clutching her stomach. “You’re saying the Boss gave you this car? You got proof?” She whipped out her phone, found a photo, and held it up high. “Look closely! This is me and Mr. Sterling! He said it himself, I’m his little baby, and he gives me all the good stuff!” “As for you… your last name isn’t Sterling. You’re clearly not his daughter. Trying to get him to be your sugar daddy, aren’t you?” In the photo, my dad, wearing the Armani suit my mom bought him, was carefully tying a Hermès scarf around Jessica’s neck. The background was unmistakably the seven-figure crystal chandelier in our living room. The timestamp was exactly from last month when Mom and I were traveling abroad. Heh. Good job, Dad. Cheating is one thing, but erasing your daughter’s existence? The crowd exploded again. “I know him! That’s Richard Sterling! He’s a top exec at Sterling Corp, the Marketing Director!” “Director? A director isn’t exactly a billionaire, right? Did this Jessica girl get scammed by an old guy?” “You don’t get it. Richard Sterling has deep connections. Rumor has it he gave up his own inheritance to work at Sterling Corp. His real net worth is at least in the billions! Calling him the Richest Man isn’t a stretch!” “Yeah, and I heard Sterling Corp only survives because of his connections. Otherwise, it would have gone under ages ago…” I laughed out of pure anger. I had no idea my dad was packaging himself like this to the outside world. My mom was always too busy with the conglomerate’s actual business to care about this petty gossip. And the people in our circle wouldn’t bother mentioning such trivial things to me. After all, everyone who actually matters knows: Without my mom, Richard Sterling is absolutely nothing. But clearly, this fox-borrowing-the-tiger’s-power trick really worked on this idiot girl my age. Disgusting. I completely lost my patience, my voice turning ice cold. “Jessica, I don’t have time for your performance. Last warning: give me the key.” “Or face the consequences.” Jessica wasn’t scared. Instead, she craned her neck and shrieked: “Why should I?! Mr. Sterling said this car is for me to drive! Who the hell are you to order me around?!” I sneered. “He said that? Fine. Why don’t you call your ‘dear’ right now, in front of everyone, and ask him whose car this is?” “And while you’re at it, tell him Serena Sterling is standing right here. See if he still dares to admit he has any relationship with you!” The crowd, always eager for drama, started chanting. “Yeah, call him! Ask and we’ll know the truth!” “Speakerphone! Put it on speaker, we all want to hear!” 4 Jessica clearly loved being the center of attention. She slowly pulled out her phone, deliberately swiping the screen with a flourish before dialing. After a few rings, it connected. Jessica immediately switched to a sickly sweet, baby voice that could induce diabetes: “Hiii honey~ What are you doing? I’m at the school registration, and something so funny happened.” “Some crazy girl blocked me and claims your car is hers! But you gave this to me, isn’t that hilarious?” “Oh, she says her name is Serena…” Suddenly, on the other end of the line, my dad started stammering: “Who… forget it, don’t listen to her… she’s being unreasonable… just go register first… I’ll handle it later…” Jessica turned off the speakerphone, whispered a few more things to my dad, and hung up. She rolled a massive eye at me, looking triumphant. “Hear that? Still want my stuff? Give it up!” “My Richard told me all about you. You’re the one stalking him!” “I’m the Boss’s number three. Even if you climbed into his bed now, you’d only be number four!” I froze, terrified I had heard wrong. “Excuse me? Me? His number four?” I became my own dad’s mistress number four? Who is she trying to kill with laughter? Jessica had zero shame about self-identifying as a mistress. She put her hands on her hips and scoffed: “Yeah, don’t you know the rules?” “The Boss sponsors you, but he sponsors me more! Look at you, all buttoned up. You’re basically the concubine who hasn’t been touched yet. I’m the favorite! You’re just a maid trying to get promoted!” “Since when do servants use better things than their masters? I heard last week you badgered the Boss into buying you a villa? Heh, you better transfer that villa to me right now. Maybe I’ll take you along tonight to serve him!” Her speech shocked the people around us. “Oh my god, did she just say that out loud? Shameless…” “But hey, catching a billionaire’s eye is a skill, right?” “Is she insane? She looks decent, but her mind is so dirty.” “I think she’s just being real. People respect money, not morals these days.” “Exactly. Better than this other girl, acting like a prude when she’s probably a gold digger too. The Boss said Serena is the one stalking him. Plus, I saw a Porsche key in her bag. Probably her allowance from the Boss!” “Right! I support Jessica! Brave love isn’t wrong. Getting a Maserati out of being a mistress is talent.” Talent. Right. I was rendered speechless by the bizarre logic of this crowd. I rolled my eyes and opened my bag. I dug around and finally pulled out the spare key for the pink Maserati. Just as I took it out… A hand with purple nails snatched it from my grip. “Aha! I wondered why you were so confident! You stole my spare key! You are absolutely shameless! You’ll use any dirty trick for money!”

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It was 2:00 AM. My roommates were screaming at their screens, on a losing streak in ranked. I woke up, seething with annoyance, and went to the bathroom. While I was in there, a news alert popped up on my phone: [URGENT: An adult gorilla has escaped the city zoo due to unknown circumstances. Residents are advised to lock all doors and windows. Do not go out late at night.] When I got back to the dorm, I shoved my earplugs in and tried to force myself back to sleep. In the dark, I silently cursed them. If that gorilla broke in and mauled them to death, maybe I’d finally get some peace and quiet. The next morning, my RA (Resident Advisor) was shaking me awake, her face twisted in pure terror. “Dead. They’re all dead. “Lily, wake up! Oh my god!” 1 I was still groggy, but the sight of the RA made me sit up fast. I checked the time. 9:00 AM. Damn it. The other four girls in the dorm had been gaming all night, screaming and raging. I hadn’t slept a wink. Now I’d overslept and missed my morning class. I scrambled to get dressed and climbed down from my bunk, ready to apologize to the RA and grab my books. But the RA didn’t say a word. She just stared at the floor, eyes bulging. I followed her gaze. And then I screamed. Two of my roommates were lying on the linoleum in twisted, unnatural poses. Their eyes were wide open, staring at nothing. Their pajamas were soaked in red. They looked… they looked like broken dolls. 2 My legs gave out. I stumbled, barely catching myself on the bed frame. The blood had pooled all the way under my bunk. My heart was hammering against my ribs like it wanted to break out. I swallowed hard, dry and painful. To confirm what my brain refused to process, I stumbled toward the bodies and checked for breath. Nothing. Up close, the horror was worse. Their clothes were shredded by what looked like massive claws. Their bodies were covered in deep gouges. And their throats… chunks of flesh had been torn right out. I scrambled backward, crab-walking until I hit the wall, paralyzed. My stomach lurched. I dry heaved, nothing coming up but bile. The RA finally snapped out of her trance, grabbing my shoulder. “Lily! There are five of you in this suite. Where are the other two? “Are they okay?” Her question hit me like a slap. Right. Where were the other two? “Quick, help me look! Maybe they’re hiding!” I nodded, taking a shaky breath. I checked the bunks. I pulled back the curtain on Bed 1. My roommate Sarah was curled up under the duvet, her back to me. Terrified she was dead too, I climbed up to shake her. The moment I touched her, her body flopped over, limp. Her throat was gone. The mattress was a sponge of blood. “Ahhhhhhh!” I recoiled, falling backward off the ladder and hitting the floor hard. At the same time, the RA found the fourth body. On the ground outside. She had fallen from our sixth-floor window. Smashed on the pavement below. I didn’t even feel the pain in my twisted ankle. My mind was snapping. All I could think was: I spent the entire night sleeping in a room with four corpses. And those wounds… they looked like they’d been mauled by a wild animal. 3 I clutched my head. It was splitting, a migraine drilling behind my eyes. I hadn’t even processed the fear yet. Then, the sirens started wailing downstairs. 4 Our dorm building was taped off. The school issued a gag order—no one was allowed to talk about it. Not long after, the RA and I were taken to the station for questioning. The RA came out quickly, looking grim. Then the detectives called me into the interrogation room. “What time did you go to sleep last night?” I bit my nail, trying to remember. “After I got woken up… I probably fell back asleep around 4 AM. They were gaming too loud. Screaming at the screen. It was impossible to sleep.” The two detectives exchanged a look. “After you fell asleep, you didn’t hear anything else?” I shook my head. “No. Nothing.” I knew how fake that sounded. My four roommates had been slaughtered. There must have been a struggle. They wouldn’t have just waited quietly to die. If their gaming could wake me up, surely their screams for help would have too. But I really didn’t hear a thing. I didn’t want to lie. The detective chuckled, but there was no humor in it. “The girls in the dorm next door said your room was screaming all night. They almost called the RA to check if you guys were in trouble. But since your room is constantly making noise, they figured it was just another gaming session and ignored it.” “And yet, you say you heard nothing after 4 AM?” Hearing his skepticism, I felt a weird urge to laugh. My roommates… they were obsessed with finding “cracked” guys online to carry them in ranked matches. One guy carrying four girls. They always lost. They were close friends, inseparable, but toxic. When they lost, they’d mute their mics and trash-talk the guy carrying them, calling him trash. But the second they unmuted? “Op-pa, big brother, you’re so good!” It was annoying as hell. Because of them, I hadn’t had a good night’s sleep in months. That’s why I had that thought last night. I hope the gorilla mauls you all to death. I picked at my cuticles. It was just a thought born of anger. But now… they were actually dead. The police noticed the shift in my expression. “Did you remember something?” I looked up. After a moment of hesitation, I decided to come clean. “At 2:20 AM, I woke up to go to the bathroom. My phone popped an alert: A gorilla escaped from the city zoo. “Our dorm window wasn’t latched properly. I suspect… maybe the gorilla climbed up the drainpipes and got in. “They must have been mauled by the gorilla!” As I said it, my heart raced. I was terrified that my curse had actually come true. I rubbed my temples. The lack of sleep was causing tinnitus—a high-pitched ringing in my ears. My eyelids felt like lead. “So, you heard the gorilla?” “No. It probably came in after I fell asleep at 4. Like I said, after 4 AM, I heard nothing.” I fought to keep my eyes open. The detectives looked at me with pure suspicion. I felt that familiar irritation rising. “Officers, you don’t actually think I killed them, do you? It was four against one! How could I possibly solo-kill four people? I don’t even have the guts to kill a chicken!” Just then, another officer walked in and whispered something to the interrogator. Next thing I knew, they were hooking me up to a polygraph. They asked the same questions. The machine showed I was telling the truth. According to the data, after 4 AM, I was out cold. Dead to the world. Regardless of the carnage happening feet away from me, I hadn’t woken up. 5 The detective changed his angle. “Did you take sleeping pills because of the noise?” “No.” “Before you slept, were they still gaming?” “Yes. I remember right before I passed out, Zoe yelled something like, ‘Finally, no one’s bothering us! We have to win this next round!’” “How was your relationship with them? Any conflicts last night?” I fell silent. They definitely suspected me. But to clear my name, I had to be honest. That comment about “no one bothering them” was obviously about me. “Relationship? Not good, not bad. Just… petty stuff. Locking me in the dorm so I’d miss class. Hiding the necklace my mom left me. Making up rumors about me sleeping around. That kind of stuff.” The detectives looked at me with complicated expressions. They probably didn’t expect me to be so calm about the bullying. But it didn’t matter. They were dead. What’s the point of holding a grudge against corpses? I continued, digging through my memory. “We did argue last night. When I came back from the bathroom, I couldn’t sleep. The ringing in my ears was bad. They were screaming. I finally snapped and told them to shut up. “The room went quiet for a few seconds. “Then I heard Zoe say… she said if I kept bothering them, she’d kill me. “They pinned me down. They poured something into my mouth. They choked me.” Recallling it, a sudden wave of grief hit me. Tears splashed onto the metal table. They had said other things, too. But the moment I tried to remember the specific words, my head felt like it was splitting open. My brain refused to go there. The detective handed me a tissue, staring at my neck. “Looks like you were choked unconscious. You poor kid. Does your neck hurt? We’ll get you some ointment later.” I touched my neck. Hiss. It stung. But I wasn’t crying because they bullied me. I couldn’t explain the feeling. It was just an overwhelming wave of sorrow. Four people were dead. The police wouldn’t stop just because I was crying. They placed a tablet in front of me. CCTV footage. I clicked play. What I saw made my blood run cold.

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On the day my boyfriend of seven years proposed to me. Just as I was about to say yes, rows of bullet comments suddenly appeared in front of my eyes. 【LOL, the supporting female lead is actually crying. Does she really think the second male lead wants to marry her?】 【Doesn’t she know he’s drunk and thinks she’s the female lead?】 I pretended not to see them, nodding with tears in my eyes. Afterward, some busybody told me the truth. Everyone was sure I would make a scene. But not only did I not, I generously forgave him. They didn’t know I was a “strategy girl.” As long as the second male lead proposed to me, my mission was complete. Three days later, the System confirmed with me: 【Mission accomplished. Do you wish to leave this world?】 Lying in the bathtub, I smiled with relief. 【Yes.】 1 Staring at the floating comments in front of me, I froze. Subconsciously, I contacted the System. After running a diagnostic, it told me: 【There’s been a glitch. I’ve already submitted a report.】 I nodded. In front of me, Ethan stared blankly, asking again: “Nina, will you marry me? “Please, marry me, okay?” He was obviously drunk. Everyone’s eyes were on me. Like they were watching a good show. Clearly, they all knew Ethan had mistaken me for someone else. I still nodded. Ethan looked at me with deep affection and slid the ring onto my finger. But the next second, someone in the crowd said: “Ethan, you got the wrong person. That’s Nina.” Ethan froze. His gaze landed on my face. Instantly, his expression stiffened. “Why is it you?” Regret flashed in his eyes. A few busybodies nearby explained to me: “Sorry, Nina, Ethan mistook you for someone else. “He thought you were Sarah.” Everyone was waiting for my reaction. Expecting me to break down crying or scream at Ethan. After all, who could tolerate their boyfriend of seven years doing something like this? Ethan chimed in: “I drank too much.” I forced a smile. Only after hearing the System announce the mission was successful did I speak: “It’s okay.” Then I asked the System: 【Can I leave now?】 It paused. 【Of course. 【You can return to your own world in seven days. 【Are you sure you want to leave everything here behind? To leave this world?】 I answered. 【Yes.】 【Understood. Due to glitch troubleshooting, departure time will be in seven days.】 I nodded. Perfect. I still had some things to wrap up in this world. 2 While the atmosphere was stiff, Sarah’s voice cut through. “Why is it so quiet? “Is Nina here? Was the proposal a success?” Her gaze landed on Ethan and me. “I just mistook her for someone else.” Ethan explained instinctively the moment Sarah walked out. Like he was worried I’d take this proposal seriously. I didn’t say a word. Seeing the awkwardness, others started trying to smooth things over. “Come on, come on, let’s keep partying.” Only I stood still. Sarah looked at me with an apologetic smile. “Nina, I’m so sorry. He was holding a diamond ring saying he wanted to propose. “I thought he was looking for you, that’s why I called you. “You’re not mad, are you?” Right. I only rushed over because I got a call from Sarah. … Ethan sat aside, downing the sobering medicine a waiter brought. He heard her. He just said faintly: “It’s fine.” Smoothing things over for Sarah. 3 Since Sarah returned from abroad seven days ago, Ethan had barely been home. At first, he just lied about working overtime. Even if he came back, one call from Sarah and he’d leave me immediately. Later, I saw his messages with Sarah and learned everything. That day I got angry and made a scene. Ethan just left me with a cold sentence: “You should know your place.” Then he slammed the door and left me in confusion. He hadn’t been back since. Until this morning. Sarah updated her Instagram: 【Loved ones get walnuts without shells.】 The picture showed Ethan’s office background, and she was holding a jar of shelled walnuts. The jar I peeled for Ethan a while ago because I was worried he was working too hard. I stared for a long time. Looking at my scarred hands. Finally, I saw this relationship clearly. The female lead is always the female lead. Even if I stayed by Ethan’s side for seven years, it couldn’t compare to the seven days since she returned. … I came to this world after a car accident. The System told me my mission was to redeem the second male lead. But when I approached Ethan, he was cold and disgusted by me. Back then, he wore a faded T-shirt, his messy hair slightly covering his eyes. Since he wasn’t willing, I gave up. Even if the System told me giving up meant I couldn’t return to my own world, it didn’t matter. I was an orphan anyway. It was the same everywhere. But later, I became Ethan’s junior in college. When someone drugged him, I was the one who took him to the hospital. That day, Ethan actively pursued me. I agreed immediately. Two people who hadn’t had it easy being together… life seemed to have a taste of happiness. When I worked part-time during holidays, Ethan got off work earlier than me and waited at the door to pick me up. The year we graduated, he started a business, and I stayed by his side. Just like that, I followed him for seven years. Even knowing he was the “devoted second male lead,” I firmly believed everyone had a past. Besides, the female lead was already happily with the male lead. 4 And now, Sarah sat next to Ethan, speaking in a sweet voice: “Nina, those walnuts in Ethan’s office were pretty good. Where did you buy them?” Seeing Sarah’s interest, Ethan’s gaze also fell on me. He was mostly sober now, offering no explanation for what just happened. Seemingly waiting for my answer. After a long silence, I calmed my emotions and looked at Ethan. “That shop on South Second Street. “Since there’s nothing else, I’m leaving.” With that, I turned to leave. Sarah’s friend called out to me. “Nina, that ring on your hand was handmade by President Peale. Could you trouble yourself to take it off? “I mean, he only proposed and gave it to you because he mistook you for Sarah. Clearly, you’re not the owner.” My fingernails dug into my palm. Fighting the pain in my heart, I smiled. “Of course.” Under Ethan’s gaze, I took off the ring without hesitation. I tossed it casually into the decorative fountain behind me. I walked away without looking back. The bullet comments in front of my eyes were still jumping: 【The supporting female lead is mad, right?】 【Honestly, anyone would be mad. She stayed with him for seven years. Seven years, and she couldn’t warm his heart. No point trying anymore.】 【Finally, some normal people. I want to say, does the author have any morals? If the second male lead hadn’t moved on, why did he pursue the supporting female lead?】 5 When I got home, someone anonymously sent me a video. Opening it, I heard the voices of Ethan and his friend. “Ethan, Sarah went to the bathroom. No one else is here. Nina said yes, why don’t you just make the proposal real? Why explain immediately and embarrass her? “She’s waited for you for seven years. She’ll be thirty in a few years. She’s not getting any younger. “Tell me the truth, when are you planning to marry Nina?” In the video, Ethan swirled his wine glass and thought for a moment: “Never.” Everyone went quiet. After a long time, he continued: “If I hadn’t been drunk and mistaken her for Sarah, I never would have proposed to her.” … After the voice stopped. I looked up instinctively and saw my tear-stained face in the floor-to-ceiling mirror. Turns out tears can fall without you realizing it. These words were cruel to the extreme, every single one piercing my heart. Mocking how cheap my seven years of affection were. Even if I didn’t want to admit it, how could I not fall in love with him during the best years of my life, from twenty to twenty-seven? And I discovered that when I cried, I looked somewhat like Sarah. Finally understood Ethan’s words: “You should know your place.” So that’s what he meant. He treated me as a stand-in for the female lead. 6 That night, Ethan actually came back. But he was carrying a bag of roasted walnuts. Seeing me, his thin lips moved, as if he wanted to say something. I didn’t spare him a glance, went to the kitchen, and drank a few glasses of water. Going upstairs, I saw the door to Ethan’s study was open. He sat on the leather chair, cracking walnuts. Until a sharp shell cut his finger, drawing blood. He paused for a long time. But then continued peeling. I remembered how, for seven years, Ethan always knew I liked durian. He hated the smell. Couldn’t stand it for a second. He told the maid no durian products were allowed in the house. Even when the maid told him it was my favorite, and maybe he could go upstairs to avoid it. He found it troublesome and said: “It won’t kill her not to eat it.” After that day, durian never appeared in the house again. But for such troublesome walnuts, he was willing to peel them shell by shell for Sarah. Turns out, he didn’t find going upstairs troublesome, and it wasn’t unbearable. It was just that the person he could endure for wasn’t me. I went back to my room, opened a secondhand app, and listed all my things for the lowest price. Including the gifts Ethan gave me. I didn’t want any of it. 【Damn, why is the plot going off the rails?】 【The supporting female lead sold so much stuff. Is she planning to leave?】 【Leaving is normal. The second male lead hurt her like that. Can’t she leave?】 【OMG, I really want to send the author razor blades. The supporting female lead is heartbreaking right now.】 【I just checked the other room. The male lead peeled for a bit and put the walnuts down. The female lead called him again, and he left immediately.】 【Enough. I declare I’m on the supporting female lead’s side.】 …

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The System wanted me to redeem the villain. So, I set the time travel coordinates to a year before the villain was even an embryo. The System was dumbfounded, then had a realization: “Oh, you’re planning to adopt the villain later and give him a wholesome childhood, right?” I shook my head, my gaze softening as I looked at the little girl shivering on the ground. “No. I’m here to redeem the villain’s mom.” 1 “Makes sense. Instead of trying to fix the villain with romance later, it’s better to influence him with motherly love from the start. That way, he won’t grow up twisted… Wait, what did you just say? You want to redeem the villain’s MOM?!” The System was shook. It immediately tried to talk me out of it. “Host, are you confused? If the villain isn’t successfully redeemed, you get wiped out, remember?” I chuckled lightly. “System, use your brain. What’s the main reason the villain grows up twisted? Being abandoned by his mother.” “And why was he abandoned? Because his mother’s life was a mess, right?” “So, if I save the villain’s mom and she raises him with decent values, he won’t turn out evil, will he?” My rapid-fire logic fried the System’s circuits. After a long pause, its laggy processor finally caught up. “What you’re saying… actually makes sense.” I wagged a finger at the System. “So, don’t question a girl boss next time, okay?” The System nodded blankly. I turned my attention back to the little girl in front of me. It was December, freezing cold. She was huddled outside the door in thin clothes, looking like a scared quail. The exposed skin on her arms was mottled with red marks. Sensing my gaze, she looked up, shooting me a cold, dark glare. Then she quickly lowered her head, avoiding my eyes. That look—that’s exactly why her biological parents didn’t like her. Well, that and the fact she wasn’t a boy. I stepped past her, grabbed the brass knocker on the wooden door, and banged on it hard. “Who is it? What’s with all the racket this early in the morning!” A middle-aged woman in a red padded jacket came out, cursing under her breath. She looked me up and down, her eyes full of disdain and hidden jealousy. “Who are you?” I cut to the chase, tossing an IOU at her. “You’re Hank’s wife, right? Hank owes me two hundred bucks. I can’t find him, so you’re paying it back. If not, I’m telling everyone in town your husband owes money for hookers and won’t pay up.” The woman picked up the paper, read it, and panicked. “Liar! My man isn’t like that! You must have seduced him! I knew it from your slutty face…” She didn’t finish her sentence. I casually picked up a wrist-thick wooden stick from the side and snapped it in half right in front of her face. Snap. “Debts get paid. It’s the law of the universe. Your call.” I flashed a smile, showing eight perfect teeth. The woman was terrified. Her arrogance vanished instantly. She laughed nervously, trying to appease me. “It’s not that I don’t want to pay, we just don’t have that kind of money right now. Maybe when my man gets back…” I frowned. The woman shut up immediately. My eyes scanned their small yard, finally landing on the little girl squatting by the door, peeking at me. “Then give me the girl as collateral. She’s young, but she’s not bad looking.” The woman froze. She looked at me, then at the broken stick at my feet. Ten minutes later, the little girl was trudging behind me, one shallow footprint after another. 2 It wasn’t until we were in the taxi heading to the city that the little girl spoke, her voice muffled. “You’re a trafficker, aren’t you? Where are you selling me?” I was surprised. “Why would you think that? I’m your family’s creditor.” The little girl shook her head. “My mom can’t read, but I can. The paper you threw at her was a supermarket receipt.” I mentally pinged the System. “Didn’t the villain’s mom not go to school?” The System confirmed it and gave me a quick recap of the girl’s life. “She helped with farm work until she was sixteen, then ran away to the city to avoid marrying a rich old man. She worked odd jobs, schemed to sleep with a wealthy CEO for one night, and got pregnant with the villain. Later, the CEO’s ‘white moonlight’—his first love—came back. The villain’s mom couldn’t compete, got destroyed by the CEO, and died. Basically, she was cannon fodder, a malicious supporting female character.” I tutted and shook my head. “Always the malicious supporting characters. Why do system missions only redeem the evil male leads but never the female ones? Swap the gender, and this backstory becomes a tragic, brooding anti-hero everyone loves. Plain and simple, it’s just sexism.” Seeing I wasn’t talking, the little girl tugged at my sleeve. I looked over, and she immediately pulled her hand back, as if afraid of dirtying my coat. “Can you sell me to the city? I look okay. I’m sure I’d fetch a good price there.” The driver in the front seat was already glancing nervously in the rearview mirror. I face-palmed and quickly explained. “I’m not a trafficker. I’m just a poor mother who recently lost her daughter. I want to adopt you.” Well, in my last mission world, I was a mom to someone else. Since I left that world, technically, I did lose a daughter. So, it counts. The little girl didn’t speak again. She lowered her head, looking like a scruffy kitten. Seemingly defenseless, but tense all over, ready to hiss and scratch. I recalled my parenting experience and reached out, enveloping her red, freezing little hand in my palm. Only then did I realize how shockingly rough her hand was—covered in calluses. Meeting her guarded gaze, I took off my coat and draped it over her. She instinctively tried to shrug it off. I stopped her. “If you freeze, you won’t sell for a good price.” She stiffened and stopped moving, wrapping herself tight in the down jacket until only her fuzzy head poked out. My heart softened instantly. “Don’t worry. I don’t have a son. I won’t sell you later for a dowry.” 3 My identity in this world is a “fake heiress” who just found out the truth and supposedly jumped into a river in despair. She died, so I borrowed her identity. When I walked through the villa doors dragging the little girl, a voice was still trying to comfort the “real heiress.” “Even though she’s not blood-related, the years of affection are real. And although Jason was supposed to be your fiancé, he and Ann have been together for years. We can’t just give him to you.” “I don’t care! If not for her, I wouldn’t have suffered for so many years! Now you’re taking her side? I hate you! I hate you all!” The arguing stopped abruptly when I stepped inside with Destiny. That’s the name I gave the little girl on the way here. Her last name follows mine, Sterling. Her full name is Destiny Sterling. Bella, the real heiress, turned her head away, refusing to look at me. Mrs. Sterling (Mom) asked gently: “Ann, who is this?” “My adopted daughter, Destiny. Desi, say hi to Grandma and Auntie.” Thanks to the System, Destiny’s paperwork was already filed, so she finally stopped suspecting I was a trafficker. Now, she just obediently greeted the two people frozen in place. “Hello Grandma. Hello Auntie.” Mom reacted first. “Wait, Ann, what did you say? Adopted daughter? You registered her? How could you not discuss something this big with the family? And your fiancé, Jason… how could he accept this?” Bella’s focus was different: “Why are you making her call me Auntie? I don’t want you as my sister!” Before I could speak, Destiny instinctively stepped in front of me. She crouched slightly, arms tense, like a mother leopard protecting her cub. I paused, then reached out and held her small hand. “It’s complicated. I’ll explain once Desi is settled. As for Jason, I’m breaking off the engagement.” Mom panicked. “Are you worried your dad and I won’t want you now that Bella is back? Don’t worry, you’ll always be our daughter.” Bella rolled her eyes. “Here we go again. Playing the victim to get ahead. What a green tea bitch.” I shook my head and led Destiny toward the second floor. Dropping a bombshell as I went. “I got sterilized. I plan to stay single and focus on raising Desi. Tell Jason to give up.” I walked away, leaving them in the wind, trying to process the word “sterilized.” 4 Back in my room, I collapsed on the bed. The System was yammering away. “Host, when did you get sterilized? I didn’t know about this! Aren’t we together 24/7?!” I rolled my eyes. “System, are you dumb? If I didn’t say that, would the real heiress ever let her guard down around me?” “Instead of playing ‘happy sisters,’ giving up my inheritance rights is way more practical for her.” System: “Oh, right.” Suddenly remembering something, I turned my head. Sure enough, a small dumpling was still standing stiffly at the door. On the way here, I bought her new clothes and took her to a salon for a wash and cut. The stylist gave her two little pigtails. She looked like a doll from a New Year’s painting. I waved at her. Destiny slowly shuffled over. “Are you getting kicked out?” I pulled her onto the bed to sit. “Why do you think that?” She whispered, “Because you’re not their real daughter.” I looked at Destiny’s sharp little chin. Good, the kid is smart. No need to help her with homework. I didn’t explain immediately. Instead, I played along. “So, if we get kicked out and end up penniless, what do we do?” She said seriously, “Then I’ll farm to support you. I’m really good at farming. I can make compost, plant seeds, and weed. The cornfield behind my old house was all mine.” Her head drooped lower. “As long as you don’t send me back.” I finally understood where all the calluses on her hands came from. My heart ached sharply. I pulled her into a hug, letting her sharp little chin rest on my shoulder. “Don’t worry. I won’t send you away. Not in this lifetime.”

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I was on a reality show with my sister. I was making instant noodles for her when she insisted I was doing it wrong. “Mom always puts two eggs in when she makes ramen.” But growing up, I never once had an egg in my ramen. Right there on set, we called our mom. She admitted it. “It’s such a small thing, why are you making a big deal out of it? You’re being so petty, sis.” That day, a discussion quietly trended online. The headline read: [Turns out, hearts really are crooked. Parents never love equally.] 1 When I dialed Mom’s number, I was absolutely convinced my sister was remembering it wrong. When we were kids, we were poor. We only ate instant ramen on our birthdays. I remembered it clearly. There were never eggs in the ramen. My sister, Bella, wouldn’t back down. “There were too! Mom always poached two eggs at the bottom of the bowl. You’re just remembering it wrong.” This show was being livestreamed, and the chat was already buzzing with excitement. People were placing bets on who was wrong. The call connected quickly. Bella has a fast mouth. She spilled everything that happened in seconds. Silence on the other end of the line. Then, Mom admitted it. “Yeah, I put two eggs in for your sister.” Seeing Mom confirm her story, Bella looked smug instantly. But my heart sank to the bottom of a freezing lake. I asked, “Then Mom, why did I never get any eggs growing up?” Mom’s tone was dismissive, even a little accusatory: “It’s just two eggs. Why are you so petty, keeping score with your own sister?” I lowered my eyes and said nothing. I wasn’t keeping score over two eggs. I wanted to ask why she got them, and I didn’t. Bella realized something was off. Her smile faded. But Mom was still laughing on the other end: “Sis, you aren’t seriously mad over two eggs, are you? Come on, stop being dramatic. If it matters that much, come home and I’ll boil you ten eggs.” She reduced my silence to a tantrum over food. I knew if I argued further, Mom would just dig her heels in and get angry out of embarrassment. She’d probably ask if I wanted my sister dead to be satisfied. Most of the time, I wasn’t trying to win an argument. I just wanted fairness. 2 The livestream was still rolling. I didn’t dare listen to what else Mom might say. I hung up. The viewer count spiked during the call. “I feel like Hannah’s mom has no clue what Hannah actually cares about. She doesn’t think she did anything wrong.” “Kinda feeling bad for Hannah. Her parents don’t seem great to her.” “If they really cared, they wouldn’t have sent Hannah into the entertainment industry at fifteen. Look at her sister, studying abroad since she was a kid.” “Hilarious. A bunch of broke people feeling sorry for a celebrity?” “Here we go again. Who doesn’t know Hannah failed school? She’s basically illiterate.” With more viewers came more diverse opinions. The production team moved fast to control the comments. They told me about the situation and asked if I wanted to steer the narrative. “It’s fine. Bad publicity is still publicity.” I didn’t care if people cursed me out. The director looked at me with some hesitation, then told me the plan for tomorrow’s show. “The team saw how much traction the ‘native family trauma’ topic is getting. We want to hold a roundtable discussion tomorrow about family upbringing. Hannah, are you okay participating?” I nodded. I could do it. My family background wasn’t exactly a secret in the industry. But no one knew the details. I was born in a poverty-stricken mountain village. A place so poor it didn’t even have a school. Because of that, I didn’t even finish middle school. Later, a photo of me went viral by accident, and I entered showbiz. My parents used the money I earned to send Bella abroad for school. They always said I was “sensible,” that I learned to earn money early so they didn’t have to worry. But I never chose to be sensible. I was forced to be. We were poor. They had to go to the city to work. They said living in the city was expensive, so they left me in the village. I never resented them for that. But later, they had Bella. And they kept her by their side the whole time. I asked them why. Didn’t they say the city was too expensive to bring me? Why could they bring Bella? They said I was the big sister, I had to be understanding. Bella was small, she needed to be with Mom and Dad. They couldn’t bear for Bella to grow up without parents. When I was mocked by anti-fans for being uneducated, they were busy sending Bella to the best schools overseas to get a shiny degree. I tried to comfort myself over and over. I’m the big sister. I need to be understanding. Mom and Dad don’t love me less. It’s just that when I was little, we didn’t have the means. But hearing Bella say today that her ramen always had two eggs… The lie popped like a soap bubble. 3 At 1:30 PM, the livestream started on time. Bella arrived punctually too. There were also a few industry veterans participating. Bella was bubbly, great at charming the elders. Completely different from me. When I first entered the industry, I was like a mushroom growing in a dark corner. I couldn’t even speak Mandarin properly, let alone flatter people. “A Juilliard grad? That’s impressive.” Simon, a famous music producer, sighed in admiration. “Hannah, your sister is amazing.” I smiled and nodded. Bella really was amazing. Unlike me, she was sparkling. “Juilliard? I just Googled it. Number one music school in the world? How is she so talented?” “More than that. Simon tried to get in back in the day and failed. That school only takes geniuses among geniuses.” “Hannah and her sister are polar opposites. One dropped out of middle school, the other is an academic god.” The chat quickly dug up Bella’s school history. Bella tried to pull me into the conversation. I shook my head. I didn’t really want to talk. When the time came, the host introduced the theme for the afternoon roundtable. [What is the best gift your parents ever gave you?] Bella spoke first. She never seemed to care about others’ judgment, always brimming with confidence. The kind of high-energy “little sun” everyone loves. You could tell at a glance she grew up surrounded by love. I looked at her with envy. Bella talked eloquently for a long time. Most of it I knew, some of it I didn’t. She said: “All the properties at home are in my name. And since I was born, they bought me an insurance policy. As soon as I turn twenty-five, I get $8,000 a month.” She smiled slyly, eyes twinkling. “Mom said no matter how bad inflation gets, even when I’m seventy or eighty, I’ll still get money they saved for me. Then I can tell everyone looking at me with envy, ‘This is candy my mom and dad bought me.’” The chat scrolled furiously: [I’m so jealous. Am I the only one hearing about this insurance now?] [Don’t be jealous. That policy costs like $30k a year. It’s expensive. You pay from birth until the kid is 25.] [Aren’t Hannah and Bella biological sisters? Didn’t she say her family was poor? How did Bella have this insurance since birth?] The people on set who knew a bit about my background cast glances at me, some subtle, some not. The host threw the question to me at the perfect moment. “Hannah and Bella are sisters. Did Hannah know she had this insurance too?” They thought I lied about being poor to build a persona. They wanted to dig up dirt on me. But I just said “Ah,” looking a bit embarrassed. “I don’t think I have that insurance.” If I had that kind of safety net back then, I wouldn’t have dropped out because of poverty. The atmosphere got awkward. The host quickly pivoted. “So Hannah, can you tell us what the best gift your parents gave you was?” “It should be a silver bracelet.” I unconsciously twisted the bangle on my wrist. I’ve worn it since my debut. It was my thirteenth birthday present. In middle school, silver bangles were trendy. Most girls got them from their moms. They said wearing silver was good for your health. I wanted one too. So, I carefully asked Mom. Mom was working in another city then. She sounded impatient. She said silver was expensive and told me to be sensible. But on my thirteenth birthday, I received a silver bracelet. I thought Mom was just being tough with her words but soft in her heart. It wasn’t until later, when Mom let it slip, that I found out the truth. The sudden appearance of the silver bracelet was because… Bella wanted a silver bracelet. But after buying it and wearing it for a few days, she didn’t want it anymore. She thought it looked tacky and ugly. So that silver bracelet appeared on my wrist. When I found out, I was angry. Mom just laughed it off, telling me not to be so petty. The matter eventually faded away, and no one mentioned it again. I thought I had forgotten all these things. I didn’t expect a few simple questions to bring it all back. Wounds I thought had healed were just hidden. They didn’t get better with time; they festered, red and swollen, stinking in the dark. Occasionally stinging. Constantly aching. 4 The chat went silent when I said that. It took a long time for comments to reappear. [That’s so unfair. The sister gets everything, and Hannah only has one bangle to talk about.] [You guys mock Hannah for being uneducated, but she never got a proper education. She even had to drop out.] [This hurts. It feels like Hannah’s parents are so biased. They gave Bella such a good life but left Hannah behind.] A discussion quietly trended to the top of the search charts. The headline: [Turns out, hearts really are crooked. Parents never love equally.] The livestream viewer count skyrocketed. After I finished, it was Simon’s turn. He thought for a moment, seemingly unprepared. Apologetically, he said, “Sorry, I don’t think I have one.” Many people in the industry actually had unhappy childhoods. Simon was a child star. His parents were in the biz. So he was in the public eye from a very young age. But during his teenage years, he got hated on by the entire internet, so he quit. When he returned to the public eye, he had transitioned to a behind-the-scenes producer. Few people knew what he went through during those years. When others discussed this topic… More or less, they avoided deep answers. While we discussed, the chat was also sharing the best gifts they received. [I feel like the best gift my parents gave me was making me a citizen of the world from birth, letting me choose my nationality.] [For me, it’s that my parents didn’t force me to take the Gaokao (college entrance exam) and sent me straight abroad.] [It’s nice. If not for you guys, I wouldn’t know what a ‘world citizen’ is. But I’m not doing too bad. I have lots and lots of love. My parents love me very much.] But most people remained silent. The host seemed to realize the roundtable was getting too depressing. He quickly introduced the next segment. We were led into separate small rooms. There were many questions on the wall. Do you think your parents ever loved you? If you had a time machine, what would you say to your younger self? The director asked me to pick a few to answer. I looked at the questions. The director really knew how to probe. Every question pierced the heart. I was silent for a moment, then bared my heart to the public for the first time. “I think my parents probably loved me.” They loved me, but not enough. Their love was mixed with other things. I still remember when I first entered the industry and got my first paycheck of 3,000 yuan ($450). I kept 2,000 for myself and sent the rest home. After receiving the money, Mom and Dad proactively asked me: Was I cold in Beijing? Was I eating enough? That was the first time I felt their care. They finally remembered their eldest daughter. They would often send me food. Occasionally call to check on me. But I was always confused. I felt this might not be love. I said: “They loved me, but they loved my sister more.” “Their love for me was conditional. Their love for my sister was unconditional.” The chat was silent for a long time before scrolling again. [Happy families are all alike; every unhappy family is unhappy in its own way.] [That’s what parental love is like sometimes. Not too much, not too little, just enough to trap you completely. You can’t ruthlessly cut them off, and you can’t forget the pain. Stuck in the middle, suffering forever.]

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My cousin, Chloe, wants to go to France to study ballet. My mom asked me for $15,000. I sent her a screenshot of my bank account balance—$15,000.20, not a penny more. Five seconds later, her reply popped up: “Keep $500 for living expenses, send the rest over.” 1 Before my finger even touched the screen, another message from Mom popped up: “By the way, when are you coming back? I’ll make that coconut chicken soup you like.” “My CD matures next month, I’ll pay you back every cent then.” Go home? Actually, I went home yesterday. A classmate got married and had the reception in our hometown. I specifically mentioned this to my mom last week, saying I’d stay the night after the wedding and head back to D.C. the next morning. She agreed enthusiastically on the phone, promising to leave the door unlocked. But when I got to the door, I found it deadbolted from the inside. Just as I was about to knock, Mom’s voice drifted out: “I’ll ask your sister for the money tonight when she gets off work. You just go ahead and sign up for that ballet program, don’t worry.” “Auntie, will Nina agree? It’s $15,000 after all. And you haven’t paid back the other money you borrowed.” “Why wouldn’t she? She’s soft-hearted.” Mom chuckled lightly, a hint of disdain in her voice. “I mean, she’s average-looking and has a bad temper. If she wasn’t making $60k a year now, do you think I’d bother coddling her?” Chloe asked in a cutesy, spoiled voice, “Is that why you bought her an iPhone right after graduation and gave her money?” Mom’s voice suddenly rose: “Silly girl! If I hadn’t waited on her hand and foot after graduation, coaxing her, do you think she would have majored in Computer Science? Remember Mrs. Miller’s son? He went to a state school and only makes $40k. Have you calculated how much all your expenses since graduation add up to?” Mom’s tone was filled with indulgence: “You! My retirement savings are almost gone because of you. If I hadn’t had the foresight to make Nina subsidize the bulk of it, what kind of good life would you have?” Chloe cheered, “Auntie, I knew you loved me more than my own mom! Come with me to New York this time, I’ll take you out for fun!” “You got it! My little sweetie is the best!” The wine I drank at the wedding churned in my stomach. I wanted to throw up but couldn’t. My first reaction was actually to thank myself for never paying to fix this thin, non-soundproof door. I drove back to D.C. overnight. 2 Mom kept texting nonstop, so I just turned off my phone and slept. I went to the office early the next morning. In this world, the only person who won’t betray you is yourself. When it rains, it pours. Around 10:30 AM, my stomach started hurting again. My phone vibrated. Mom’s WeChat messages were like a death warrant. “Why aren’t you replying? What are you doing?” “When can you send that $15,000 we talked about yesterday?” … I replied: “Stomach hurts, talk later.” “Why does your stomach hurt again? I tell you to cook at home, but you insist on eating takeout. Of course your stomach hurts!” I didn’t bother replying. I work overtime every day, where would I find time to cook??? Her fake concern, requiring zero effort while earning her the reputation of a caring mother, was honestly laughable. I can only blame my past self for being too stupid to see through these tricks. “Why are you so pale?” Sarah brought over a coffee and handed it to me. “Did you eat something bad?” I opened my mouth but was in too much pain to speak, so I just waved my hand. She grabbed me: “Don’t be a hero. I’m taking you to the hospital.” The lights in the ER were blinding. When the nurse handed me the test results, her eyes held a trace of pity: “Considering potential malignancy, we recommend further pathological examination.” Staring at those words on the report, life suddenly felt absurd. Just last night I was calculating that a few more years at this company would give me enough for a down payment to move out of my cramped rental. I wouldn’t give my mom another cent. I was going to travel abroad, eat delicious food, buy clothes I liked. For the rest of my life, I would only love myself. But now, fate had blindsided me with a sledgehammer. 3 It was late at night when I got home. Sarah comforted me the whole time and helped me apply for a day of sick leave, telling me to rest well before discussing next steps. My mind was a mess, and of course, Mom called again. I declined it: “Busy.” “Busy with what? Did you take what I said seriously? Your sister has to pay tuition the day after tomorrow. Any later and it’ll be too late.” “Don’t worry, I’ll definitely pay you back.” Ha. I’d sooner believe the sun rises in the west than believe she’d pay me back. Over the years, the empty promises she’s made could fill the entire living room. “I’ll buy you a new backpack when your dad gets paid.” “After Chloe’s recital, I’ll buy you a dress with the leftover money.” “Mom will keep your red envelope money safe, and add a little more when I give it back.” … In the end, it all turned into nothing. 4 I took a deep breath and called her: “Mom, I really want to ask you, do you genuinely see me as your daughter? I’ve always been curious, why have you disliked me since I was little?” Mom sounded confused: “Why ask that all of a sudden? You’re overthinking things again. Stop talking nonsense, when will the money…” Tears streamed down my face. I took a picture of the medical report and sent it: “I’m sick. I need this money for treatment. You guys figure something else out. If you have any money, lend me some too.” Mom immediately sent a voice message: “Don’t joke around, Nina. Don’t copy those trashy pranks online, joking about being sick is bad luck. Your sister is so close, just one last step. After this advanced course, she’ll definitely become a principal dancer! When she makes money, she won’t forget you…” I suddenly couldn’t hold it in anymore. I grabbed the phone and said weakly: “Do I owe you anything? If she wants money, tell her to sell her blood or a kidney!! Don’t come to me!” After sending that, I turned off my phone. I hid under the covers and cried my heart out. Then I told myself silently, that’s it. That was the last time I’d shed tears for people who aren’t worth it. 5 Chloe is my aunt’s daughter. My aunt and my mom were both small-town overachievers who tested into a university in Shanghai together. But their fates diverged wildly. After graduation, Mom went back to our hometown and married my dad, living a small-town life. Auntie stayed in Shanghai and married a construction boss. Around the millennium, my uncle’s monthly income was more than my parents could save in years. Every time Mom saw Auntie’s glamorous life, her eyes revealed her unwillingness to accept her lot. Auntie was well-off and willing to spend money on Chloe. Chloe excelled at piano, dance, and calligraphy from a young age, praised by adults wherever she went. During New Year’s, Mom would only buy me new clothes if I got straight A’s. But Chloe was already wearing Burberry. If not for the accident that happened to her family later, I probably would have remained just a distant relative to her, with little interaction.

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The System ordered me to seduce the male lead. Halfway through the conquest, he killed the guy. “My hand slipped,” he said, his tone completely indifferent. Me: … Later, he took over the male lead’s body. He unbuttoned his shirt, guiding me to sit on his lap. “Come on. Use everything I taught you. Tease me. Conquer me…” 1 The System has been acting weird lately. He stopped teaching me how to seduce the male lead. My affection score with Sebastian Sterling was stuck at 60. It wouldn’t budge. With Sebastian’s “one that got away,” Sophia, returning from abroad tomorrow, I had to take drastic measures. Plan A: Seduction. That afternoon, I went to Sebastian’s penthouse. I ditched my usual look for the “innocent flower” vibe—a tactic the System taught me years ago. I wore a sexy red slip dress and nestled into Sebastian’s arms. On the sofa, I twirled his tie around my finger, looking at him with dewy eyes. “Sebastian, forget about Sophia. Be with me, okay?” Sophia was his first love. Even though he liked me now, the power of a returning first love is unpredictable. I had to lock this down before she landed. Sebastian stared at me, his gaze darkening. After a long silence, a husky voice filled the air. “I could.” “But… if you want me to forget her, in what capacity are you asking?” His eyes lingered on my chest for a few seconds. His Adam’s apple bobbed. I blushed. “As your girlfriend?” I hooked my arms around his neck and whispered in his ear. “Be my boyfriend, okay?” Sebastian chuckled low in his throat. Clearly, I’d pressed the right buttons. “Beg me.” “Beg me, and I’ll say yes.” His eyes were dark as he gripped my waist. Tighter. It hurt so much I teared up. I bit my lip, crying prettily, just like I practiced. “Please.” A woman’s tears are an aphrodisiac. The harder you cry, the more excited they get. The System taught me that, too. Sure enough, the fire in Sebastian’s eyes roared to life. He threw me onto the bed, his voice rough. “You asked for this.” As he started stripping, I panic-messaged the System in my head. [Hey! Don’t you dare look!] A cold scoff echoed in my brain. What did that mean? He didn’t care to look? Good. They say the first time you sleep together boosts the score massively. I watched a half-naked Sebastian, calculating how many points I’d get tomorrow. Suddenly—THUD. Sebastian hit the floor. Dead. Me: ? I stared in disbelief. I scrambled backward, my voice trembling. [Sys… System?] [What happened to him?!] A beat of silence. Then, a lazy voice in my head: [My hand slipped.] 2 The System’s name is Chase. He spent years teaching me how to bag the hero, step by step. Because of one “slip of the hand,” he took over the male lead’s position, wearing Sebastian’s face. His explanation? “The hero is gone. Someone has to fill the role.” So, he filled it. And now, I have to seduce him. I sat in the corner of the CEO’s office, clutching my skirt so hard it wrinkled. I didn’t dare speak. Why? I was terrified. Yesterday, he waved his hand and Sebastian’s corpse turned into pixels and dissolved into thin air. If I annoyed him, would he delete me too? … Chase finished his work quickly. He tossed the file onto the desk and looked up lazily, looking bored. “Begin.” It was obvious what I had to begin. There are many ways to raise affection scores, but physical intimacy is the most efficient. I hesitated for two seconds, staring at his perfectly shaped lips, and made up my mind. I put my hands on his shoulders, closed my eyes, and kissed him. He didn’t push me away, but he didn’t kiss back either. His lips were cold. I kissed him clumsily, putting in way too much effort. After what felt like half an hour, I still hadn’t heard the notification sound for increased affection. Confused, I opened my eyes—and looked straight into Chase’s. Dark, mocking, amused. Like a hunter watching prey struggle. He hadn’t closed his eyes the entire time. My blood ran cold. We stared at each other, and I froze, unsure if I should stop or keep going. He pushed me away, wiping a smudge of blood from his lip where I’d accidentally bitten him. His tone was loose, careless. “Ivy, I’m not Sebastian.” “The tricks you used on him won’t work on me.” “Go home. Think of a better strategy, then come back.” 3 I spent days thinking. Chase doesn’t like aggressive girls. So, he must like the pure, innocent type. I put on a modest white knee-length dress and went to the gala to find him. The hall was packed, glasses clinking, people chatting. I didn’t need to search. He was a natural protagonist. Standing in the center of the crowd, his aura was elegant and imposing. Impossible to ignore. I started walking toward him, but someone blocked my path. Sophia. She swirled a glass of wine in her right hand. She stepped up beside me, her lips curling into a vicious sneer. “Ivy, Sebastian is mine.” I didn’t care who the male lead belonged to. But when I saw her loosening her grip on the wine glass and grabbing my hand to pull herself backward… I knew she was framing me. It was a blind spot for the cameras. It would be her word against mine. In a crisis, I instinctively looked for Chase. He used to help me with everything. Luckily, he looked over right at that moment. Unluckily, he looked amused. He watched me with a smile that screamed I don’t care. My heart sank. I remembered what Chase told me. When he took over the body, he inherited Sebastian’s affection scores. Sebastian’s score for Sophia was 65. For me, it was 60. Chase is a System. He exists to execute rules. Rules are everything. So, he wouldn’t help me. … I had to save myself. In a split second, before Sophia’s glass hit the floor, I grabbed her arm and yanked. I used the momentum to throw myself down. Glass shattered. Shards pierced my calf. Cutting skin, embedding into flesh. It hurt like hell. “Ah!” People gasped. Heads turned. 4 I hit the floor hard, landing right in the debris. Red wine mixed with blood, staining my white dress. The shards felt like razor blades scraping my skin. Burning, stinging pain. Blood trickled down to my ankle and dripped onto the floor. The crowd gathered. These were heavy hitters—titans of industry, new money elites. I saw shock, disgust, and condemnation on their faces… directed at Sophia. Good. If I hadn’t pulled that move, they would be looking at me like that. After all, Sophia is the heiress of the Su Group. I couldn’t afford to be accused of hurting her. Chase walked over. His voice was cold. “What happened?” I had to admit, his acting was flawless. If I didn’t know he wasn’t Sebastian, I’d never have guessed. People rushed to explain the situation to him. Accusing eyes, sharp as knives, fell on Sophia. She panicked, stepping back. “It wasn’t me! I didn’t do it! “It was her! She framed me! She did it on purpose! “Sebastian, you have to believe me, I didn’t push her!” She grabbed Chase’s sleeve, tears welling up in her eyes. Pitiful. Chase looked at me calmly. I don’t know why—maybe intuition—but I sensed he wasn’t happy. His eyes were deep, like a freezing pool of water. Afraid he might side with Sophia, I bit my pale lip, letting my eyes turn red and misty. I looked at him with pure grievance. “Sebastian, don’t blame Sophia. She didn’t mean to. “I… I just lost my balance. Don’t worry about me. “I… I can get up.” I frowned in pain and tried to stand, but my leg gave out. I collapsed back onto the glass. Shards dug deeper. Blood flowed faster. The pain forced actual tears from my eyes. Chase let out a scoff. A mocking smile played on his lips. His voice was unhurried. “Ivy.” “You’re quite clever, aren’t you?” He shook off Sophia’s hand and picked me up. ? I froze. He called me clever? And he’s holding me? Is his affection for me higher than Sophia’s now? I felt a surge of joy. But the next second, my face froze. [Chase’s Affection: -5.] 5 The score was only 60. Now it’s 55. My heart went cold. The score is literally my lifeline. I need 100 to leave this world. The only good news is that scores fluctuate with emotions. The sooner I act, the easier it is to fix. There’s still a chance! … Chase once told me that if the target’s score is over 50 and drops, the most effective remedy is a kiss. The more intense, the faster the recovery. I looked at him desperately. “Can you lower your head?” “No,” Chase said, turning the corner toward the exit. Denied. I didn’t care about the pain anymore. I wrapped my arms around his neck and kissed him frantically. I pried his lips open, demanding a response. I was so rough I tasted iron. Chase’s eyes were cold. He didn’t resist. He even stopped walking to let me do it. I stared into his eyes, kissing him for a full minute. No notification sound. The longer I kissed, the colder I felt. I bit his lip hard. Eventually, the kissing turned into sobbing against his mouth. It’s not working. I can’t seduce him. He lied. “Ahhh! Ivy Shen—” “You slut!” “Get your dirty mouth off him! Don’t touch my Sebastian! Let him go!” Sophia was screaming in the distance, shaking with rage. Everyone was watching us. I didn’t care about them. I only cared about the points. And it was obvious. The points weren’t coming back. I stopped struggling. I let go of Chase, limp with despair. The pain in my leg came rushing back like a tide, burning and throbbing. If I can’t seduce Chase, I can’t leave. If I can’t leave, what’s the point? Maybe I should just buy some pills and end it all. I thought numbly. But the moment the thought formed, it was interrupted. [Chase’s Affection: +5.]

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My older sister, Ava, has autism. My younger brother, Leo, has Paranoid Personality Disorder. Because of this, Mom devoted her life to Ava, and Dad spent all his time taking Leo to specialists. No one remembered me. I was the one left behind. Even when I called once a month, begging for my overdue allowance, they only had harsh words for me. “Your sister is sick! Can’t you stop spending money like water?” “Your brother finally had a good day, and here you are trying to steal the spotlight. You selfish brat!” None of them ever listened long enough for me to finish my sentence. So, naturally, none of them knew— I have stage four stomach cancer. And barring a miracle, I’m going to leave this world before any of them. 1 My whole family is sick. Mentally sick. As the only “normal” child in the house, I was also the most disposable. From the moment I could understand words, Mom drilled one thing into my head: “Mia, you have to remember, you were born to take care of Ava.” “If it weren’t for your sister’s condition, we wouldn’t have had you. You need to be grateful. You need to be sensible. Ava always comes first.” “When we get old, you take over. You’ll look after her for the rest of her life.” Back then, I didn’t understand what autism was. I just knew Ava never talked to me. She never talked to anyone. She sat in her room, repeating the same motion over and over—lining up her toys by color, knocking them down, and lining them up again. Before my brother Leo was born, Dad was the only light in my childhood. He used to lift me high above his head, his eyes burning with hope. “My Mia is amazing! So healthy, so smart! This proves there’s nothing wrong with my genes!” He would count on his fingers, planning the future. “Once I give you a little brother, our family line will be secure!” Dad’s large hand would ruffle my hair, his rough palm warm against my head. “Your brother is going to be just like you—healthy and bright!” That period of being “the hope of the family” is the only warmth I remember. He bought me the prettiest dolls. He let me win at checkers. He even taught me how to paint. Until Leo was born. The diagnosis—Paranoid Personality Disorder—hit Dad like a sledgehammer. It shattered his dreams. And it shattered me. Dad’s hope turned into despair. And that despair needed a target. I became that target. One day, I ran up to him, holding a painting I’d just finished, eager for praise. “Daddy, look! My teacher gave me a gold star!” On the paper, I had painted a sunrise with the words: Reach for the Stars. He didn’t take it. He didn’t even look down. He stared straight ahead, his gaze fixed on me with a look I’d never seen before. It wasn’t disappointment. It was hatred. He snatched the paper and ripped it to shreds. Rip. Rip. “Reach for the stars? What use is a girl reaching for the stars?” His eyes were bloodshot, his voice sounding like a broken bellows. “Why you? Why do you get the luck? Why do you get the healthy body? Why couldn’t it be your brother? You stole his luck! You useless waste of space!” I looked at the confetti on the floor. “Daddy, I didn’t steal…” “Shut up!” he roared. “From now on, stay out of my sight! Just looking at you makes me sick!” I never saw my father smile again. That was the day my childhood lost its color. 2 Leo’s birth was the final straw that broke our already fragile home. Autism and Paranoid Personality Disorder are like oil and water. Under one roof, they were a recipe for constant chaos. Ava’s world was a straight line. Everything had to be in its exact place. Schedules had to be precise to the second. She would scream for hours if Leo moved her water cup. She would refuse to eat if there was an extra spoon on the table. Leo’s world was a web of conspiracies. Any deviation from his expectations was a personal attack. He was convinced Ava placed things in his “safe zone” just to provoke him. He believed someone had planted listening devices in his room to watch him sleep. One screamed. One raged. Day after day, year after year, the house was a war zone. Dad and Mom became like guard dogs, each protecting their chosen broken child. And me? The “normal” one? I was trapped between two hysterical patients. A speck of dust no one cared about. Even breathing too loud felt like a crime. I learned to turn my headphones up to max volume, burying my head in my homework amidst the screaming and crying. But even that peace was a luxury. Sometimes Leo would burst into my room, tearing through my backpack, accusing me of hiding recording devices. Ava would stand in front of me, asking the same question in a flat monotone. Once, twice, ten times. If I zoned out and didn’t answer immediately, she would start banging her head against the wall. Thud. Thud. Thud. I was terrified. But whenever I begged Mom and Dad for help, they gave me the same line: “Mia, you’re the only normal one. You have to be the bigger person. You have to understand them.” Every. Single. Time. It was as if being “normal” was my sin, and suffering was my penance. When I was twelve, the family finally fell apart. After a particularly violent episode, the house went dead silent. Mom calmly packed a suitcase with her and Ava’s clothes. She patted Ava’s head, then turned to me. Her voice sounded exhausted. “Mia, I’m taking Ava to Grandma’s countryside house. It’s quiet there.” She paused. I looked at her with wide, hopeful eyes, waiting for the words: You’re coming with us. But she looked away. Dad’s voice came from behind me. “I’m taking Leo to see specialists. We’ll travel the country. I don’t believe he can’t be cured.” I asked in a small voice, “What about me?” “You’re big enough now. As the only healthy kid, you need to learn to be independent. You need to understand how hard this is for us.” And just like that. One went left. One went right. They left me alone in the empty house. Dad sent a monthly allowance to his mother—my Nana—who lived nearby. In theory, she was supposed to take care of me. In reality, Nana’s world revolved around her poker games. She rarely came over. When she did, she would tear herself away from the card table just long enough to throw a few crumpled bills at me like I was a beggar. The money wasn’t enough for real food. So, my three meals a day became instant oatmeal and stale saltine crackers. Late at night, when my stomach growled with hunger, I would curl up at my desk. I’d grip my pen with trembling hands, tears soaking my homework. The hunger made it hard to focus. The ink would run where my tears fell. I rewrote the assignments over and over until they were perfect. Because I stubbornly believed one thing: If I was excellent enough, if I was obedient enough, Mom and Dad would love me. Just a little bit. But when I called them, excited to say I got straight A’s again, the receiver only delivered impatience. “What now? You need money again? Mia, we gave you a healthy body, that’s the greatest gift of all! Why can’t you be considerate of our struggles?” “Your sister had an episode yesterday, I don’t have the energy for this!” I don’t remember when I stopped calling. I knew the script. They never had time. They never cared. It’s okay, I told myself. Get into college. Get out of this town. Escape. Then came the acceptance letter from my dream university. I thought my life was finally about to start. I thought the suffering was over. Then came the diagnosis. Stomach cancer. Stage IV. Turns out, I wasn’t the only “normal” child after all. I was just the one who got sick last. 3 The doctor said I might only have three months. My hands were shaking so hard I could barely hold the paper. After the panic and the cold dread settled, my first thought was: I need to tell Mom and Dad. Surely, now they would care? Just like they cared about Ava’s autism and Leo’s paranoia. I was a “sick child” now, too. With trembling fingers, I took a photo of the diagnosis. I opened the family group chat named “Family Forever.” I hit send. Almost instantly, a stream of gibberish flooded the screen. [#$%%…&))&…%#@!] [sdg87s6d8g76s] [#%@&LittleBunnyFooFoo&%#] It was Ava. She had Mom’s phone again. The nonsense symbols pushed my diagnosis off the screen. Then, the chat went silent. No one responded. Maybe… maybe they missed it? I comforted myself and sent it again. This time, the reply came fast. It was Mom. My heart leaped. Tears welled up. Finally. Finally, someone was going to care about me. But the text that came through felt like an icicle stabbed through my chest. Mom: [Mia, are you annoying or what? Posting the same photo twice. What’s there to look at?] They didn’t miss it. They just ignored it. My stomach cramped violently. I tried to type, tried to explain that it wasn’t just a picture, it was a death sentence. But my hands wouldn’t cooperate. Before I could type a word, Mom’s second message popped up. Mom: [Did you Photoshop this?] Mom: [I’m telling you, don’t be like my coworker’s daughter who faked depression just to get out of freshman orientation. Don’t think you can fool everyone.] Mom: [You’re young. Stop thinking of crooked ways to get attention. It’s bad luck to curse yourself with sickness.] Mom: [Your Nana cooks for you three times a day. You live like a queen. How could you possibly have stomach cancer?] Three times a day? When did Nana ever cook for me? Mom didn’t know that my meals were cold instant soup and pickles I made last a week. She didn’t know how thin I’d become. I looked at my wrist. The bone protruded sharply; the veins were visible under translucent skin. Does an eighteen-year-old girl look like this? She only knew how to care for Ava. If Ava got a papercut, Mom would cry and examine it with a magnifying glass. But for me? Nothing. My fingers shook as I typed: [Mom, it’s true. I’m not lying.] As soon as I hit send, Dad’s profile picture popped up. He sent a voice note. His tone dripped with mockery and disgust. “I just wired your tuition money. You want a new iPhone already? Or is it a laptop this time? Mia, I didn’t know you were this manipulative. Using illness to scam money from your family?” I didn’t want money. I just wanted to tell them I was dying. I just wanted a tiny crumb of love in my last three months. [It’s not a scam! It’s real! I’m not lying to you!!] [Mom, Dad, can you please come home and see me?] [Please. The doctor says I have three months at most.] I typed frantically, tears blurring my vision. Then Leo chimed in. Leo: [Sis, your acting is getting better.] Leo: [Nice script. Stage IV Stomach Cancer. Tragic. Much more creative than the depression angle you tried last time.] His words were like needles. I remembered now. Before finals, during the darkest days, I gathered the courage to tell them I thought I was mentally ill. They screamed at me. Said I was lazy. Said I couldn’t handle the pressure of school. Said if I didn’t want to study, I should go work in a factory. It ended with me apologizing to them. I bit my lip until I tasted rust. Dad jumped in again. Dad: [Leo is right! Mia, are you done? Don’t think I don’t know what you’re doing! Leo analyzed it perfectly. You’re jealous of the money we spend on his treatments, so you’re throwing a tantrum!] Mom joined the pile-on. Mom: [Can you stop acting crazy? Your sister is getting upset because of the noise on my phone! She won’t eat dinner now!] Mom: [Why can’t you be sensible? We didn’t raise you to be a burden!] Dad: [I’m sending your Nana over to check on you. We’ll see if you’re actually sick!] Dad: [Stop these childish games. You’re an embarrassment.] The group went silent again. I waited all afternoon. From noon until sunset. Nana never came. The pain in my stomach grew vicious. At first, it was a dull ache, but now it felt like hot pliers twisting my insides. I curled up on the sofa, every breath burning. Cold sweat soaked my hairline. I remembered the doctor’s words: The pain will get more frequent and more intense. Eventually, painkillers won’t touch it. 4 It was pitch black outside when my phone finally dinged. It was a screenshot from Dad. It showed a text conversation between him and Nana. Nana had sent Dad a photo. In the picture, I was wearing a long-sleeved hoodie, sitting at my desk, profile to the camera. Outside the window, the leaves were fresh green. The sunlight was soft. I recognized it instantly. It was taken this past spring. Right now, it was the height of summer. It was sweltering hot. Nana: [Son, Mia is fine. She eats, she sleeps, she’s full of energy.] Nana: [Don’t listen to her nonsense. I take good care of her. You just focus on Leo’s treatment.] Then, Dad’s messages to me started popping up. Dad: [I saw the photo Nana took. You look perfectly healthy. Still trying to scam us?] Dad: [Mia, what is wrong with you? Do you know how much your brother’s bills are? Why do you have to cause trouble now?] Dad: [I raised a liar. You are nothing but stress!] Cause trouble. So, dying is just causing trouble. I started to laugh. I laughed at my father, who would rather believe a blatantly old photo than his own daughter’s begging. I laughed at my grandmother, who would dig up an old picture to save herself a trip so she could get back to her card game. I laughed until I cried. Buzz. A text from the bank: [Your savings account ending in 8848 has been frozen. Please contact your branch.] I froze. That account held my tuition money. Before I could process it, Dad messaged again. Dad: [Since you claim you have stomach cancer, I’m moving your tuition money to pay for Leo’s treatment. You won’t be going to college anyway.] The last shred of fantasy I held about my family—about love—was shredded. Let it freeze. I wasn’t going to school anyway. What does a dying girl need a degree for? I don’t want this family anymore. 5 I turned off my phone and lay paralyzed on the sofa. The room was terrifyingly quiet. Only the tick-tock of the clock on the wall. A countdown. Every second reminded me: My time is running out. I wanted to see the ocean. The thought came out of nowhere. I had never left this small, landlocked town. Mom and Dad took Ava and Leo everywhere for treatments, but they never asked where I wanted to go. I’d only seen the blue sea on TV. I checked the cash I had left. Just enough for the cheapest train ticket to Sea City. It was the closest coastal town on the map. Before leaving, I opened the “Family Forever” chat one last time. Mom was posting about what Ava ate. Dad was updating on Leo’s therapy. I stared at the screen for a long time. I didn’t type anything. Forget it. Let it end like this. On the train, I curled into the corner of the hard seat. Waves of pain made me sweat through my clothes. But the thought of the ocean kept me upright. After three bumpy hours, I arrived. Stepping out of the station, the salty wind hit my face. It was cool and wet. The real ocean was nothing like TV. It was vast. Deep. Overwhelming. Waves rolled in, carrying an endless power. I found a quiet spot on some rocks and sat down. I listened to the water crashing against the stone. The pain hit again. Worse than ever before. I couldn’t stand up. I hugged my knees, gasping. “Miss? Are you okay?” An aged, rough voice sounded near my ear. I looked up to see an old fisherman with white hair looking at me with concern. His eyes were gentle. They looked like Dad’s eyes used to look. “I’m fine,” I forced a smile. “You look terrible. Should I take you to the clinic?” I shook my head. “No need. Thank you.” It was pointless. I just wanted to be quiet. To feel the last bit of beauty the world had to offer. The old man seemed to understand. He didn’t push. He just quietly mended his nets nearby, glancing at me every now and then. Sunset dyed the water gold. I used my finger to write my name in the sand—Mia Li. A wave rushed in and washed it away instantly. Just like my life. Here, but leaving no trace. But in that moment, I didn’t feel sad. I felt released. Maybe this was the ending I wanted. A quiet goodbye by the blue sea.

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My sister fell in love with the Crown Prince of New York’s elite circle at first sight. To create an “opportunity,” she didn’t hesitate to spike his drink at the gala. This time, I didn’t stop her. Instead, I personally delivered the drink for her. I even thoughtfully booked her the presidential suite. In my past life, I saw her drugging the drink and kindly tried to stop her. I warned her that the Sterling family had deep connections in both the legal and underground worlds—we couldn’t afford to offend them. That night, Julian Sterling found another woman to relieve the effects, and the next day, he announced a whirlwind engagement. My sister didn’t say anything to my face, but on the drive home, she shoved me off the overpass. I died instantly, crushed into a pulp by a speeding truck. Before I took my last breath, she screamed that I had ruined her only chance to marry into a billionaire family. When I opened my eyes again, I was back at the gala. This time, I’m going to sit back and watch her destroy herself. 1 I watched as Julian Sterling downed the spiked wine. My sister, Bella, stood in the distance, her eyes gleaming with calculation. Two minutes later, the drug kicked in. A flushed, unnatural red crept up Julian’s neck. His private bodyguards immediately stepped in, supporting him as they moved toward the elevators. I flashed Bella an “OK” hand sign and slipped her the room key card. I tried to slip away, but she grabbed my arm in a vice grip. She lowered her voice, threatening me: “Don’t think I don’t know what you’re thinking! You aren’t going anywhere until this is a done deal!” “Stay at the door and be my lookout! If Julian’s people see you, you know what to say and what not to say!” She thought I was going to lecture her like before. instead, I shook her hand off. I glanced at the bodyguards who had already clocked her suspicious behavior and smiled. “Relax. You’re my sister. If I don’t help you, who will?” “Just don’t forget your dear little sister when you marry into the Sterling family.” In my last life, she was convinced I blocked her path to riches and killed me for it. This time, I won’t just step aside; I’ll give her a push. Let’s see just how deep of a grave she can dig. Bella didn’t think twice. She lifted her chin, smug as hell. “Glad you finally know your place. When I’m Mrs. Sterling, I’ll find you a driver or a secretary to marry. It’ll be enough to keep you fed for life.” “Now shut up and follow me. If anyone asks, you’re a waitress waiting for Mr. Sterling’s orders. If you ruin this for me, you know the consequences!” She glared at me, grabbed my wrist, and dragged me upstairs. The bodyguards were stationed at the door. Bella used the excuse of delivering water to get inside. Moments later, I heard the heavy thud of a body hitting the floor. I hid at the end of the corridor, watching. Not long after, Bella was dragged out, unconscious. Five bodyguards, wearing nasty grins, dragged her into the adjacent room. Seeing this, I let out a breath of relief, dusted off my hands, and turned to leave. But the next second, a sharp pain exploded at the back of my head. Everything went black. 2 When I woke up, my wrists and ankles were tied to the headboard with silk ribbons. Hovering over me was Julian Sterling’s face, dripping with sweat. My eyes widened. I tried to scream for help. He sealed my lips with his own. “Don’t think I don’t know there was something in that drink.” “Since you delivered it, you can solve the problem…” My screams were drowned out by heavy breathing. I struggled until I had no strength left. Whatever drug Bella used was potent. Julian didn’t stop until dawn. Fighting through the aches in my entire body, I waited until he fell asleep to untie the ribbons and change back into my clothes. Julian Sterling was known for being ruthless. I wasn’t stupid like Bella. I wasn’t going to stick around for his morning wrath. I wiped down any traces of myself in the room and fled. Before I left the floor, I glanced at the room Bella had been dragged into. The door was cracked open. Five sets of men’s clothes were scattered on the floor. She was lying on the bed, passed out cold. I stayed silent and slipped away. 3 As soon as I got home, my parents rushed me. When they didn’t see Bella, their faces dropped in unison. “Chloe, where’s your sister? Why did you come back alone?” Remembering how they blamed me for “ruining” Bella’s chance in my past life—how they didn’t even collect my body—my expression turned cold. “Maybe she used too much of the drug. Mr. Sterling might still be… busy.” My mom’s angry face instantly bloomed into a smile. “I knew Bella was capable! Unlike some people—useless waste of space. Raised you for twenty years and you’re still a losing investment!” My dad didn’t even look at me. He rushed Mom to the kitchen. “Go make the herbal soup! We need to make sure she conceives a son!” I couldn’t be bothered to argue. I sat on the couch to rest. Just as the soup started boiling, Bella walked in. She was limping. Her neck was covered in purple bruises. She clearly had no idea who she had actually spent the night with. The moment she saw me, she started listing my crimes to our parents. She screamed that I didn’t keep watch and didn’t help her with the aftermath. Mom snapped immediately. She slapped me across the face, screaming: “I knew I couldn’t count on you! Useless trash! Why did I raise such a burden?” “Your sister finally found an opportunity, and you didn’t help? You just ran away? Money falls from the sky and you don’t even know how to pick it up. You’re destined to be a wage slave for life!” I held my stinging cheek and laughed at her shamelessness. “I work for my money. I have dignity. I can’t bring myself to sell my body like that.” Dad flew into a rage. He grabbed a heavy glass ashtray from the coffee table and hurled it at my head. Blood instantly soaked my shirt. He ignored it, continuing his tirade: “Work, work, all you know is work! If we relied on your salary, your mother and I would starve before our ashes even cooled!” “You’re useless, and you dare insult your sister? Look at yourself! You’re worth nothing!” “If I knew it would be like this, I should have just sold you off years ago! It would’ve been less hassle!” “Marrying you off to some poor guy for a few grand in dowry? Do you think I’m running a charity?” I pressed a tissue to the gash on my forehead, but the blood wouldn’t stop. Disappointment in this family washed over me. I couldn’t help but yell back: “I am your daughter! Not a piece of meat in a butcher shop! If you want a daughter who sells herself, why didn’t you just open a brothel?” “Every cent I earn is clean. What is wrong with feeding myself with my own skills?” “If you hate me this much, why did you even give birth to me?” A flicker of panic crossed their eyes. Before they could explode again, Bella started gloating: “Don’t listen to her. When I have this baby and marry into the Sterling family, she’ll be on her knees begging me.” Hearing this, Mom and Dad stopped cursing me and swarmed her, asking about the night. Bella put on a shy act. “You have no idea. Julian isn’t as cold as the rumors say. He was wild all night… I’m still sore.” “When I woke up, he was gone. He just left a bank card in the room.” “We did it so many times. I’m definitely pregnant. The position of Mrs. Sterling is practically mine!” My parents laughed hysterically, seemingly already visualizing themselves as billionaire in-laws. They had no clue about the Sterling family’s background. They didn’t know what the name “Sterling” actually meant in this city. Scheming against Julian Sterling? They wouldn’t even know how they died. I needed to cut ties with them immediately. Right now, they were worshipping Bella, praising her for being “ambitious.” They brought out tonics and herbal soups, wishing Bella could pop out a baby right this second. I took the chance to call out their greedy, gold-digging faces. Predictably, it triggered them. Dad kicked me off the sofa, tore my page out of the family registry (Hukou), and threw it at me. “Get out! Get out now! I don’t have such a useless daughter!” Mom looked at me with pure disgust. Bella rubbed her legs, smirking. “I was going to find you a driver or secretary to marry so you could live comfortably. Since you love earning your own money so much, get out. Don’t come crying back to me when you get fired!” Goal achieved. I smiled, picking up my registration papers from the floor. “One day, you’ll realize the Sterling family isn’t as simple as they look.” “You schemed against Julian Sterling. We’ll see who ends up kneeling and begging.” 4 I stayed at a cheap hotel that night. I bought some antiseptic and bandages for my forehead. The next day at work, the office was buzzing with gossip. “Did you hear? Someone drugged Julian Sterling last night! Slept with him and ran. He’s tearing the city apart looking for the culprit!” “Is that person insane? Messing with Julian? The last person who tried to drug him is literally fertilizer now.” “Doesn’t he have an engagement with the Lu family? Even though the Lu heiress went missing years ago, the contract is still active.” Suddenly, Liam Lu appeared behind us. His voice was ice cold. “Are you all bored? Is your work done? Gossiping about Mr. Sterling… do you want to disappear?” The colleagues scattered like rats. Liam looked me up and down, a faint smile playing in his eyes. He grew up with Julian; their families were close allies. Given his reputation in the business world, I knew Julian wasn’t someone to be trifled with. Bella was doomed. Thinking about my colleagues’ words, I typed up a resignation letter immediately. If I can’t fight them, I can hide. My boss didn’t ask why. He approved it instantly. Terrified of being found by Julian, I rented a tiny apartment and didn’t leave for a week. Bella did the opposite. She loitered around the Sterling Group headquarters every day. She was desperate for Julian to recognize her as the woman from that night. Unfortunately, Julian’s bodyguards walked past her countless times without a glance. Bella got desperate. She registered a social media account under her real name and posted constantly about the gala. After ten posts with no response from Julian, she took a photo of the bank card he allegedly left and posted a “Lost and Found” notice. This time, she got a bite. Julian publicly replied to one of the comments: “The card is mine. Please provide your contact information. I will retrieve it personally. Much appreciated.” His reply broke the internet. Screenshots hit the trending page instantly. The cold CEO’s rare gentleness was interpreted as a flirtatious exchange. Everyone guessed that my sister, the “kind soul” who found the card, was about to become Cinderella. Netizens doxxed Bella’s address immediately. They linked her to the drugging incident rumors. Before Julian even showed up, people trying to curry favor were lining up at my parents’ door. Talent scouts offered Bella contracts, claiming she had “star quality.” Businessmen invited her to fancy dinners, begging her to put in a good word with Mr. Sterling. Rumors flew. People were placing bets that Julian would cancel his engagement with the Lu family. In one day, Bella gained millions of followers. She became an influencer. Riding the wave, she put on a fake act, telling people not to spread rumors. Her “innocent and reserved” image won over a ton of fans. Meanwhile, the scandal spread everywhere. I couldn’t sit still. I went out and officially transferred my household registration away from my parents. When I went back to pack my things, my parents were practically floating. They were glued to their phones, reading comments and laughing. It was like they were already envisioning the wedding. I stayed silent and went to my room. Mom scoffed. “Doesn’t know how to enjoy life. Born to be a servant. Useless.” Dad sighed, disappointed. “If you had half your sister’s ambition, we’d be living next door to the Sterlings by now!” Bella walked out of her room, a $200 face mask plastered on her skin. She gloated: “You don’t know, do you? Julian messaged me. He wants to meet.” “He definitely figured out I was the one who ‘helped’ him that night. He’s not mad. He probably liked it!” “I just tested. Two lines. Pregnant.” “If you suck up to me now, it’s not too late.” “You’re my sister, after all. Once I’m Mrs. Sterling, getting you a job as a maid won’t be hard.” Hearing “two lines,” my heart skipped a beat. I subconsciously touched my own flat stomach. “You started the rumors online, didn’t you? Do you know how powerful the Sterling legal team is? You aren’t helping Mom and Dad; you’re dragging the whole family into an abyss.” As if on cue, Mom saw a notification. The Sterling Group had issued an official statement. It said that anyone continuing to spread rumors would face legal action. The comment section, which had been on fire, was instantly locked. All of Bella’s posts were taken down. Her account was banned. She panicked. But sticking to her “reserved” act, she opened her chat with Julian but didn’t dare message him. While my parents crowded around her in panic, Julian finally messaged. “I’m sending someone to pick you up. Be downstairs in five minutes.” Bella’s frown instantly turned into a smirk. She waved the phone in my face. “See? The Sterling Group is a big company; they have to be low-key publicly. My husband couldn’t wait to explain it to me in person!” “With your cowardly attitude, you aren’t even fit to carry my shoes! Move!” She shoved me aside and went to change. My parents chimed in. “You have none of your sister’s skills, yet you try to bring her down. What is the point of you?” “Get out! Stop being an eyesore!” Mom was tearing up with joy. “This risky move paid off! We might be moving into a mansion tonight!” Dad laughed, holding Bella’s positive pregnancy test like a trophy. “I never dared to dream… The Sterling family! We’re upper class now!” “Honey, look at this suit. Is it good for the wedding? I don’t want to embarrass our daughter!” “What should we get for the grandkid? We can’t let the in-laws look down on us!” Watching their excitement, I silently packed my bags. When I left, I trailed behind them from a distance. Downstairs, they were surrounded by neighbors. Envious chatter filled the air. “You are so blessed to have such a daughter! I saw the news online. If my daughter married into the Sterling family, I’d wake up laughing!” “Look at you two, glowing! You look ten years younger!” “I should have told my daughter to try. I thought Mr. Sterling was untouchable, but he’s just a man after all. Can’t resist temptation.” I felt a wave of nausea and almost retched. My parents were grinning ear to ear, promising to invite everyone to the wedding. In the middle of the laughter, police sirens wailed. Several cruisers pulled up. An officer stepped forward, flashing his badge. “Which one of you is Jiang Wan? She is suspected of spreading rumors and using controlled substances. Please come with us.”

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I brought breakfast for my childhood best friend—ten steaming, juicy pork buns I’d packed with love. He frowned, looking at the grease stain on the bag. “Can you stop embarrassing me? I’m not a construction worker. Who eats this heavy stuff in the morning?” Chloe, the class queen bee, tapped his shoulder and handed him a beautifully wrapped artisan sandwich. She glanced at my buns and gasped, “My god, that’s enough calories to last me three days!” I felt a sting of tears in my eyes. Suddenly, a stream of floating text—like a livestream chat—scrolled across my vision. [LMAO. Did you see the poor scholarship kid, Xavier, staring at those buns? He just swallowed a gallon of saliva.] [No wonder Xavier becomes a tech billionaire later. In every interview, he says his favorite food is pork buns.] [His stomach is literally growling. If someone gave him those buns right now, they’d probably become the love of his life.] I blinked, then immediately turned to my deskmate, the class genius and resident loner. “Do you want these? They’re still hot.” Unexpectedly, Xavier replied in a flat, cold voice: “Thanks, but I’m not hungry.” 1 Me: ? Are they all conspiring to ruin my day? I wasn’t giving up. I untied the bag. The savory smell of pork, fluffy dough, and sesame oil wafted into the air. Even though I’d already eaten, my mouth watered. “I literally heard your stomach growl. Are you sure? These are amazing. My dad woke up at 4 AM to stand in line for them.” I have a fatal flaw. When I eat something good, I have a desperate need to share it. It’s that satisfaction of helping someone discover a hidden gem. Under my relentless sales pitch, Xavier finally stopped writing. He looked up. His bangs were a bit long, hanging down to cover his eyebrows. His gaze was indifferent. High nose bridge, sharp jawline, prominent Adam’s apple. He wore the blue and white school uniform hoodie, zipped all the way up. The cuffs were frayed and washed out. He looked thin, but his shoulders were broad. I suddenly realized he looked a bit like an anime protagonist. The brooding type. He’d been my deskmate for a month, but this was the first time I’d really looked at him. My cheeks heated up. Xavier’s gaze dropped to my hands. His thin lips parted. “Thanks, but I don’t need your pity.” Then he lowered his head and went back to drowning in calculus. I sat there, awkward and frozen. What the hell? This temper is just like an anime character, too. Who’s pitying him? I’m just trying to share the gospel of carbs! The floating text popped up again, mocking me this time. [Hahaha, does she have no brain? Trying to give charity to the future genius right in the open?] [She probably saw the comments and wants to be his ‘One That Got Away.’ Dream on.] [Xavier’s heart belongs to someone else. Don’t bother.] My face burned brighter. Because I felt called out. I admit, I had a tiny thought about hugging a future billionaire’s thigh. He’s going to be rich, right? Trying to get on his good side seemed like a solid investment strategy… I was fuming when I heard a distinct gurgle. Xavier’s stomach. I turned my head. Xavier’s pen paused for a fraction of a second, then he continued writing as if nothing happened. But I saw the tips of his ears turn bright pink. I sighed. Whatever. Why hold a grudge against a hungry person? I tugged his sleeve, using the same whining tone I used on my dad. “Help me out, Xavier. I can’t eat all this. Wasting food is a crime. Just help me finish them.” Xavier didn’t make a sound. I slid the bag of buns onto his side of the desk. He didn’t push it back. Tsk. So stubborn. “Remember to eat them while they’re hot. I gotta run to the bathroom.” Homeroom was starting in ten minutes. If I didn’t go now, I’d be holding it through first period! 2 When I got back to my seat, the bag was gone. I sniffed the air. No smell of meat. Huh? Did he toss them? Before I could ask, “Mrs. Terror,” our math teacher, marched in. “Get out the practice sheets from yesterday. If you didn’t finish, go stand in the back. Don’t make me say it twice.” I immediately lowered my head, terrified to breathe. Senior year was brutal. Every teacher acted like the grim reaper. By the time I stumbled home after school, brain fried, my dad was already busy in the kitchen. Four dishes were already on the table. “Whoa, sweet and sour ribs!” I happily reached out to steal a piece, but my mom flicked my forehead. “Wash your hands, you little gremlin.” I grinned, dropped my bag, and ran to the sink. When I sat down, Dad brought out a massive bowl of meatball soup. “Dig in!” I put my palms together. “Thank you for your hard work! I will devour everything!” The three of us ate and chatted happily. Dad smiled, “Do you want pork buns again tomorrow? Did Brad like them this morning?” Brad. My childhood friend, Lu Zeyuan. The thought of him made the ribs taste like cardboard. I mumbled, “They were fine.” My dad, like me, loved feeding people. “Brad hasn’t come over for dinner in a while. Senior year must be tough. Bella, you eat more.” Brad and I grew up together. We used to be two chubby kids rolling around the neighborhood. He loved my dad’s ribs; I loved his mom’s pot roast. Then, overnight, Brad hit puberty. He shot up to six feet. The chubby belly turned into a six-pack. The buzzcut became a trendy fade. And the person standing next to him changed from me, “Chubby Bella,” to the class beauty, Chloe. Brad went to eat steaks and salads with Chloe now. He didn’t come for ribs. I tried eating that stuff once. Medium-rare steak? It had nothing on my dad’s braised brisket or spicy chicken. What made me angrier was this morning. He ate Chloe’s sandwich and called my buns “construction worker food.” And Chloe said ten buns would last her three days. So what if you’re a size zero? I’m 5’3″, a solid 120 pounds. I’m soft, sure, but I’m sturdy and healthy! I shoved a huge spoonful of rice into my mouth. I was done feeding Brad. I was done chasing that ungrateful jerk! 3 I was eating angrily when the floating text—the “Chat”—started scrolling again. [Wait, this chubby girl is the villainess, Bella? Her family is so wholesome. How does she end up like that?] [Probably because she ends up at a community college and gets mixed up with the wrong crowd.] [It’s for the plot. The villainess’s death is the catalyst for the main couple getting back together. Shame her parents die of grief two years later…] The meatball in my mouth fell back into the bowl with a plop. Excuse me? Chat, explain yourself! I pushed my bowl away. “I’m full.” I ran to my room, locked the door, and studied the floating text. According to the Chat, I was the malicious villainess in this world. My childhood friend, Brad, was the Protagonist. Chloe was the Heroine. After finals, I would confess to Brad and get rejected. Brad would tell me he and Chloe planned to go to the same Ivy League school and marry after graduation. In a rage, I would hack his account and change his college application, sending him and Chloe to opposite ends of the country. Because of my bad grades (and obsession with Brad), I’d stay local at a third-rate college. I would constantly sabotage them, causing misunderstandings. Eventually, to make Brad jealous, I’d date a local thug. Brad wouldn’t care. He’d just study harder to transfer to Chloe’s grad school. I’d stay entangled with the thug until senior year, when he’d accidentally strangle me to death in a motel room. Then he’d flee. My parents would collapse from the news. Brad, out of childhood loyalty, would help handle my funeral. Chloe, now a journalism major, would come to interview my parents about the “Scandalous Death of a College Girl.” And thus, over my dead body, the main couple would reunite. They would become better people, love freely without my interference, and live happily ever after. I was furious before I even finished reading. The Chat said my parents would die within two years of my death? They were sacrificing my whole family for their romance? Are they insane?! I admit, I had a crush on Brad. We grew up together, and he got hot. It happens. But hacking college apps? Dating thugs? I would never! Even if Brad rejected me, two hotpot dinners and a BBQ night would cure me. A foodie’s world is simple! Screw the plot. If I don’t participate, the story breaks, right? Having figured this out, I threw open my door and yelled, “Mom! Don’t put the food away! I’m hungry again!” 4 The only freedom in senior year was Gym class. Boys played 3-on-3 basketball; girls played badminton or sat on the bleachers pretending to have cramps so they could watch the boys. Even the messiest boys washed their hair the night before Gym. Brad sank a three-pointer, lifting his jersey to wipe his sweat. The flash of abs caused a ripple of squeals. He flashed a sunny grin and looked over. I followed his gaze. He was looking at Chloe. They exchanged a sweet look. My heart twinged. It felt sour. Like an emotion that didn’t belong to me was forcing its way in. I suppressed it. The girl next to me pinched my arm. “Bella, you and Brad haven’t been talking much lately.” I mumbled, “It’s whatever.” “Watch out, or Chloe will snatch him. That girl knows what she’s doing.” I thought for a moment. “I’ll bless them. They look good together.” They are the main characters, after all. “No way. Brad is so hot now, you’re willing to give him up?” I didn’t want to talk about Brad. It felt like inviting the Grim Reaper. Just then, I saw Xavier. I pointed. “Actually, don’t you think Xavier is kind of hot?” Unlike the others, Xavier was still in his full uniform. Zipped up to the collarbone, sleeves pushed up to his elbows. Sweat matted his bangs to his forehead. His lips were pressed into a thin line. The girl scoffed. “Xavier? He has a nice face, I guess, but he’s so gloomy. He never talks. And he’s barely average at basketball.” “Also, smart people are weird. Who wears a uniform to play ball?” The Chat exploded. [What are they gossiping about? The villain is poor! He barely eats enough, where would he get the energy to be an athlete?] [That uniform is the only decent outfit he owns. He washes it every night. Buying a jersey means skipping meals.] [These girls are annoying. No wonder only the Heroine becomes his ‘First Love.’] [Just wait until he becomes a Tech Mogul. His aura will be ten feet tall. So handsome.] [Why doesn’t the Heroine just take both the Hero and the Villain? It’s just two guys!] Huh? I froze. Xavier is the Villain? Chloe is his First Love? But I never see them talking… The Chat confused me. Just then, Brad’s game ended. The girl next to me shoved a water bottle into my hand and pushed me. “Go give Brad water! Go!” I stumbled forward, landing right in front of Brad. Brad saw the water and his eyes lit up. “Yo, finally caved? Ignoring me just because I didn’t want your buns? You didn’t even wait for me this morning. Petty.” Since learning I was the villainess, I’d been avoiding him to avoid my tragic death. But now, I stood there blankly holding the water. “I didn’t mean to…” I looked back. Who was that girl who pushed me? I couldn’t remember her face! Was she even in our class? Cold sweat trickled down my back. The Plot was forcing me into position. Brad looked impatient. “Alright, stop explaining. You’re so stubborn. As long as you know you were wrong. I’m thirsty.” Just as Brad reached for my cheap water bottle, a slender, pale hand extended from the side. “Brad, drink this. It has electrolytes.”

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