I’d been supporting Leo for ten years. When he finally asked me to marry him, it came with a condition: I had to get a tubal ligation. We would adopt a child from an orphanage. Just as I was about to follow his plan and adopt a little girl named Carrie, text suddenly materialized in the air before me, like comments in a video stream. 【Congratulations to the supporting female character on officially becoming the sucker. Carrie is the male and female lead’s biological daughter.】 【Carrie will get rid of the villainess soon enough. Then all her money will belong to our happy family of three.】 【Serves her right. Who told her to use her stupid money to get in the way of true love!】 My breath hitched. I turned away from the sweet-faced girl and walked toward a child in the corner of the yard. She’d just been in a fight and was now coolly tying her shoelaces. The pop-ups started again. 【No, don’t pick her! That’s the ultimate boss villain of the future! She’s the one who’s destined to fight the main characters!】 【Is the evil villainess insane? I feel so helpless, I wish I could reach through the screen and slap her!】 Oh. But of course. A villainess and the ultimate boss villain… weren’t we destined to be a family? 1. On the way to the orphanage, Leo gave me the silent treatment. The scowl on his face only vanished when he saw the little girl, Carrie. Eager to please him, I hurried over to ask her if she’d like to be my daughter. “You bitch! You think you’re good enough to be my mom? I hate you!” I was completely taken aback. This little girl, who looked so clean and angelic, so out of place in these drab surroundings, had just kicked me as hard as she could. “Get away from me, you slut! Just go die already!” She’d put all her strength into it. A sharp, searing pain shot through my knee, and I stumbled, crashing hard onto the ground. She just smirked, then ran to Leo and hid behind his legs, her dark eyes peering out at me. “Who gave you permission to talk to Carrie? What if you scared her?” Leo’s voice was ice. His eyes were filled with nothing but disgust. “She’s just a kid, how hard can she kick? Are you putting on a show so I’ll feel sorry for you? Get up. And apologize to Carrie!” I was about to speak when the pop-up text flooded my vision again. 【Nice one, Carrie! Avenge your real mom! And congrats to our villainess on being the sucker. Carrie is the main couple’s biological kid.】 【Carrie will get rid of the villainess soon enough. Then all her money will belong to our happy family of three.】 【Serves her right. Who told her to use her stupid money to get in the way of true love!】 I couldn’t believe my eyes. Congratulations on being the sucker? Just then, Carrie started to make fake sobbing noises. Leo’s face darkened with rage. He strode over, yanked me roughly to my feet, and roared, “I told you to apologize! Didn’t you hear me?!” “I’ll count to three. If you don’t apologize, the wedding is off!” 2. He stared down at me, confident he had me completely under his thumb. The pop-ups cheered. 【Father and daughter, working together to get revenge for the female lead! This bitch stole her man and is about to steal her child, she deserves this!】 【So awesome! They’re standing up to her power. Just because the villainess is rich doesn’t mean she can walk all over our male lead.】 I swallowed my fury and pushed myself off the ground. “I’m the one paying for this adoption. I’m the one who was just insulted and knocked over. And now you expect me to suck up to this little monster?” “Leo, you don’t have to call off the wedding, because I’m calling it off myself. And as for Carrie, there is no way in hell I’m taking her.” The air went still. A moment later, Carrie was the first to break the silence, screeching, “No! I don’t want to stay here and have the other kids call me an orphan! No!” “I want to eat steak and lobster! Not the boiled cabbage they serve here! And I don’t want to live in a gross dorm with those other kids, it stinks!” Leo’s eyes were wide, his chest heaving. But he quickly recovered, a cynical sneer twisting his lips. “Clara, don’t forget, you’ve already had the sterilization procedure. The one that can’t be reversed. You love children, don’t you? If you don’t adopt, you’ll never be a mother.” He softened his tone, trying a different tactic. “I know you’re just upset that I didn’t defend you. Carrie was rude, I’ll admit. But why are you holding a grudge against a child?” “Look at the other kids here. They all look so dull. Who can compare to Carrie? A little mischief just means she’s smart. Come on, honey, let’s just get the paperwork done. We can talk about everything else when we get home.” But my expression didn’t change. He reached for me, and I slapped his hand away. “I’ll say it one more time. Our engagement is over. If you want this girl so badly, you can adopt her yourself.” I walked over to the corner of the yard, to the little girl who had just finished her fight and was now calmly tying her shoes. I’d been watching her for a while. She had been quietly building a little house out of blocks when a group of other kids had deliberately run over and kicked it down. She hadn’t cried. She hadn’t screamed. She had simply launched herself at them, a silent, furious little whirlwind. I went to her, unwound the silk scarf from my neck, and wrapped it around hers. My voice was gentle. “Would you like to come home with me? To be my daughter?” “I promise you, you will be the only child I ever have. I will give you all of my love.” The pop-ups went wild. 【No, don’t do it! That’s the ultimate boss villain of the future! She’s the one who’s destined to fight the main characters!】 【Is the evil villainess insane? I feel so helpless, I wish I could reach through the screen and slap her!】 The girl stared at me, her dark eyes unblinking. As the warmth of the scarf seeped into her skin, her small body gave a slight tremble. “Okay,” she said, her voice raspy. Since I could no longer be a biological mother, I would be the best adoptive mother I could possibly be. 3. The director told me the girl’s name was Quinn. Her parents had sent her to the orphanage at age three, right after her little brother was born. “Quinn. It’s a strong name. I like it,” I said with a smile. The little girl looked up at me, then pouted. “It’s not a good name. They just picked it. It means nothing. Like a weed.” One of the boys she’d fought with earlier saw his chance. He snuck up behind her and shoved her hard, sending her sprawling. “Quinn looks like a weed, too!” he taunted. “Her hair looks like a dog chewed on it! It’s so ugly! Freak!” I finally noticed her hair. It looked like she’d cut it herself with a pair of blunt scissors—uneven, choppy, and shorter than a boy’s. “That’s because you spit bubblegum in my hair! I couldn’t get it out!” Quinn shot me a quick, embarrassed glance, then scrambled to her feet, her jaw set. Her palms were scraped raw, but she ignored the pain, ready to charge back into the fight. “Quinn!” I grabbed her, holding her back. For such a small thing, she was surprisingly strong. I stepped in front of her and fixed the boy with an icy stare. “My Quinn is the most beautiful girl in the world. As for you, what kind of big man bullies a girl? Apologize to her. Now.” The boy flinched under my gaze but stood his ground stubbornly. “You won’t? Fine. I’ll just have a word with the director. I’m sure she’d be happy to cancel your lunch today.” “No, no! Okay, I’m sorry! Quinn, I’m sorry, it was my fault!” He looked like he was about to cry, gave a half-hearted bow, and scurried away. I turned back to Quinn, smiling as I gently pinched her cheek. “Such a pretty face. It would be a shame to get it all scratched up in a fight. From now on, if anyone bullies you, you tell me. I’ll be in your corner.” “Come on. Let’s get some antiseptic for that hand. And when we get home, I’ll have a professional stylist give you a whole new look.” For a moment, her little body went rigid. She stared at me, her eyes wide with disbelief, as I lifted her scraped palm to my lips and gently blew on it. I sent my assistant to handle the adoption paperwork and led Quinn to the car. Leo, finally snapping out of his shock, blocked our path with Carrie in tow. “Clara, are you serious? You’re actually adopting… this thing?” Quinn might be young, but she was sharp. At his words, she bristled like a wounded animal, baring her teeth at him. If I hadn’t been holding her tight, I think she might have launched herself at him like a tiny missile. “Quinn is adorable and so well-behaved. Of course I’m taking her home.” I smiled sweetly, stroking Quinn’s choppy hair and deliberately raising my voice. “After all, I have so many maids and chefs at the villa. We’ll get Quinn fattened up in no time. Oh, and of course, every girl loves fashion. I’ll have to set up a walk-in closet just for her.” Carrie, though just a child, looked like she was about to explode with jealousy. I couldn’t help but wonder what kind of parents had raised her to be this way. “You’ll regret this, Clara,” Leo snarled, shoving past me. “You’ll pay for what you’ve done today.” He stormed off with Carrie to handle her adoption himself, since his plan had failed. What a joke. As Leo dragged her away, Carrie kept looking back over her shoulder, her eyes fixed on me as I lifted Quinn into the back of the Rolls-Royce. “Ready, Quinn?” I said, buckling her in. “Our amazing new life starts now!” 4. Back at the villa, I had Quinn take a long bath, and then we went downstairs in our pajamas to enjoy a nutritional meal specially designed for children by my private chef. I was worried she might be a picky eater, but she wasn’t at all. She ate with gusto, her appetite amazing. After dinner, we took a walk in the garden to aid digestion, and then I took her up to her new room. I had originally decorated it for Carrie, a pink-themed princess fantasy. It had several massive wardrobes and no fewer than ten jewelry boxes already filled with accessories. A pastry chef I’d hired from France wheeled in a cart laden with exquisite desserts. Quinn’s jaw dropped the moment she walked in and it didn’t close. “The bed is so big!” Droplets of water from her damp hair trickled down her neck as she let out a whoop of joy and launched herself onto the massive bed, rolling around gleefully. The maids smiled fondly. The new young miss was captivated by a big bed, unaware that any single dress hanging in the closet was a one-of-a-kind original, worth thousands of dollars. On the drive home, I’d had my people investigate Carrie’s background. The so-called “female lead” was none other than Anna, the daughter of a woman who had once worked as a maid in my house. Back in high school, her mother had begged me to let Anna live with us, claiming their apartment was too far from school. I was lonely, so I happily agreed. She ate with me, lived with me, and I treated her like a sister. I thought she was my best friend. I told her everything, including my secret crush on Leo. I never imagined that she was going behind my back, pursuing him herself. The two of them saw me as nothing more than a spoiled rich girl throwing my money around, and they plotted to have their own child inherit my entire fortune. The pop-ups started scrolling again. 【So what if a young couple in love has a baby? This isn’t the dark ages. If Clara really loved the male lead, she should accept every part of him.】 【Um, upstairs, what they did was seriously messed up. Having a kid is fine, but tricking someone else into raising it for you? That’s just scummy.】 【Yeah, the morality in this story is getting weird. This is supposed to be a revenge plot? Looks more like a family of ungrateful parasites to me.】 My chest felt tight. I couldn’t seem to catch my breath. If I remembered correctly, Anna’s mother had been fired for theft. There was even evidence that Anna had been involved, but I’d still given her a substantial amount of money to help her start a new life. “Anna,” I whispered, my fingers trembling as I stared at the phantom text. “Why would you, of all people, stab me in the back? How could you do this?” “Where is this person?” Quinn was standing right behind me. She looked up, her eyes glinting with a coldness that didn’t belong in a child so young. “The people who bully you… I want them all to die.” She was so small and thin from years of malnutrition, she couldn’t have weighed more than a feather. And yet, this tiny child reached up and caught a tear as it slid down my cheek. “You’re crying. Tell me where she is.” 5. In that single moment, I knew I would do anything for her. I knelt and pulled her into a fierce hug. “Honey, from now on, it’s just you and me against the world. We’re going to live beautiful lives. We’re going to be happy.” Quinn was six but had never been to school. I immediately had my assistant find the best one for her. To ensure the staff and teachers would take extra good care of her, I simply donated a new building to the campus. I had the money, after all. And within my power, I would make sure my daughter got the very best of everything. Unfortunately, on her first day, I spotted Leo in the main auditorium, holding Carrie’s hand. He’d siphoned off a lot of money from me over the years, so he could maintain his lavish lifestyle for a while longer. “Well, well. It seems fate just loves to bring us together.” Our eyes met. Leo smirked at me, his chin held high. “I heard some big shot invested a fortune in this school for their kid this year. They even renovated the entire cafeteria. Aren’t you afraid of bringing… that… in here? What if she offends someone important?” Leo and Anna knew I was rich, but they had no idea that my family owned nearly every major commercial property in this city. They thought I was just new money. I smiled sweetly. “I was feeling pretty good about this school, but seeing you here makes me have second thoughts. The admission standards seem a little lax. They’re letting just anyone in these days.” “By the way, Leo,” I added, my voice dripping with innocence, “that little Carrie looks an awful lot like you. And you seem so fond of her. You two aren’t actually father and daughter, are you?”

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1 My best friend, Abby, mailed me a rib she’d had removed during weight-loss surgery. She wanted me to make a bone broth with it, and she insisted I record a video of myself drinking it. The thought of it turned my stomach. I posted anonymously online, asking for advice. An anonymous account replied. 「Don’t drink it. It’s a bone-swapping curse. She’s trying to trade lives with you!」 An idea sparked. I went to the butcher, bought some beef ribs, and simmered them into a rich soup. I filmed myself drinking it for Abby. Then I took the rib she sent me and tossed it into the feeding trough at a pig farm. The next day, I went back to check. The sow, nursing five piglets, stared at me with eyes full of venomous resentment. … 「Clara, this is the rib I had them take out for you during my surgery. You have to make a soup with it, and don’t forget to send me a video, okay?~」 The message from my best friend, Abby, ended with a smiling emoji. A moment later, a package from a local courier arrived. I opened it. Inside were two ribs, cut clean by some sharp instrument. One was still stained with blood. A wave of nausea hit me, and I shoved the box away. Two weeks ago, Abby had complained about her weight and announced she was getting full-body liposuction. I gently advised her to think it over, warning her about the risks. I never imagined she’d not only go through with it but also have two of her ribs removed. I took a moment to compose myself, then texted her back. 「Are you insane? You want me to make soup with your rib?!」 「If you want to drink it, drink it yourself! I’m not doing it!」 The moment I hit send, my phone rang. The sound was shrill and insistent, like an alarm in the dead of night. Abby’s smiling face flashed on the screen, and for a long moment, I couldn’t bring myself to answer. On the sixth call, my boyfriend, Leo, suddenly appeared behind me. “Clara, what are you doing? Why aren’t you answering your phone?” he murmured. I froze, about to stop him, but it was too late. He’d already pressed the answer key. I snatched the phone and retreated to the balcony. Before I could say a word, Abby’s cloyingly sweet voice drifted from the receiver. “Clara, didn’t we just talk about this a couple of days ago? We promised to be best friends forever!” “This is a special ritual just for us. If you drink the soup, our wish will come true!” The hairs on my arms stood on end. I hadn’t seen Abby in two months. We’d been so busy with work we hadn’t even spoken in a week. What “couple of days ago”? The last time we’d talked was when she congratulated me on my “dumb luck” for landing a rich boyfriend like Leo. The more I thought about it, the more wrong it felt. I used an anonymous account to post on a forum. 「My best friend wants me to make soup with her rib and send her a video. Is this normal?」 Replies flooded in almost immediately. 「OP, can you actually stomach that? Because I definitely couldn’t.」 「I’ve heard of psycho boyfriends, but a psycho best friend is a new one. Is this just for clicks?」 「Yeah, I love a good twisted story, but if this happened in real life, I’d be shaking.」 Amid the jokes and shock, one anonymous account stood out. It had posted three comments in a row. 「Don’t listen to her! It’s a bone-swapping curse. Your friend is trying to trade lives with you!」 「If you do what she says, your fate and your body will be exchanged with hers!」 「Get rid of the ribs immediately. But you can’t just throw them away, or the curse will backfire on you. Find a living creature to take it for you!」 I stared at the comments, a cold sweat breaking out on my skin. Abby and I had been friends since we were kids. We went to the same university. We’d always promised that whoever got married first, the other would be the maid of honor. Our kids would be best friends, too. How could she possibly want to harm me? But the voice on the phone… it was definitely Abby. As I stared at my phone, lost in thought, Leo walked out of the kitchen holding a bowl of soup. “You said you were hungry, right?” he said softly, setting the bowl in front of me. “I saw the ribs you bought and made a broth. Eat it while it’s hot.” He scooped up a spoonful of the glistening broth and brought it toward my lips. My eyes fell on the two familiar-looking ribs in the bowl. I flinched, instinctively shoving his hand away. The hot liquid splashed across the floor. Leo’s expression soured. “Clara, what’s wrong with you? You almost burned me.” Seeing the anger in his eyes, I quickly made an excuse. “You know I can’t drink meat broth without white pepper.” “And we’re all out. Could you run down to the convenience store and grab some?” For some reason, I had a nagging feeling that something was off about Leo. He was the kind of guy who wouldn’t even make instant noodles for himself, always ordering delivery. For him to be making soup this late at night was completely out of character. Was he in on this with Abby? My excuse seemed to work. His face softened, and he pulled out his phone to order a delivery. I quickly put on a disappointed look, wrapping my arms around his. “The store is right downstairs,” I pouted. “You’ll be back in ten minutes. If we order delivery, it’ll take at least half an hour. The soup will be cold by then.” He sighed, unable to refuse. As soon as he was out the door, I poured the hot rib soup into a thermos and hid it. Then, I took out the leftover beef ribs from last night’s dinner, carefully selected two small ones, and simmered them in a fresh pot of water. I poured the new broth into the bowl Leo had used. The beef ribs glistened with fat, looking almost identical to the ones Abby had sent. Leo was back in less than ten minutes. He was out of breath, as if he’d been rushing. I pretended not to notice, took the pepper with a smile, and sprinkled it into my soup. While I drank, I recorded a video for Abby. “Abby, Leo made the soup for me. I’m drinking it now!” I had Leo hold the phone as I tilted my head back and finished the entire bowl. Then I made sure to praise his cooking skills. Maybe it was my imagination, but Leo seemed to let out a small sigh of relief when I was done. A minute after I sent the video, Abby replied with a cute emoji. She hadn’t suspected a thing. Leo left soon after, and I finally let myself relax. I retrieved the thermos and fished out the two bones. They had been steeping in the broth for hours, and their color had changed. One of them had taken on a grayish-blue tint, as if it had been cut from a long-dead skeleton. Suddenly, a wild idea took hold of me. The next morning, I took the thermos of soup and bones to a pig farm on the outskirts of the city. The owner was a distant relative, a place I used to visit as a child. In one of the pens, a massive sow was lazing in the sun, a litter of pink piglets nursing at her belly. My uncle, Ben, saw me staring. “Don’t you recognize her?” he chuckled. “That’s the little piglet you used to feed all the time. She’s a mother now.” He scratched his head. “She’s been acting a bit strange lately, though. Always keeps her head down, gives you this weird side-eye. It’s creepy.” It took me a second to process what he’d said. I quickly urged him, “Uncle Ben, you go on with your work. I’ll feed her for you today.” He nodded and handed me a bucket of feed. As soon as he was gone, I pulled the thermos from my bag and started to pour the soup into the stone feeding trough. The sow, who had been dozing, suddenly snapped her beady black eyes open and stared right at me. A shiver ran down my spine. My hand trembled, and the soup and bones tumbled into the trough together. The sow went berserk. She scrambled to her feet and lunged at the trough, slurping down the soup with frantic, grunting noises. She even crunched the two bones to splinters and swallowed them, like a starving demon. The sound of the cracking bones made my skin crawl. I was about to leave when the sow let out a strange, low whimper from behind me. It didn’t sound like a pig. It sounded like a human sigh. Goosebumps erupted all over my body. I whipped my head around. The sow, which had been on all fours, was now standing on her hind legs, her front hooves off the ground. Her eyes held a look of pure, venomous resentment. I screamed and stumbled backward, falling to the ground. Ben heard the noise and rushed over, helping me up. “Clara, what is it? You look pale as a ghost.” I swallowed hard, my voice shaking. “Uncle Ben… that… that sow… something’s wrong with her…” I pointed toward the pen. But the sow was back on all fours, casually munching on her feed as if nothing had happened. It was like I had imagined the whole thing. In a daze, I noticed my phone had over a dozen missed calls and a flood of unread messages, all from Abby. 「Clara, did you drink the soup or not? Why doesn’t it look like my rib in the video?」 「Tell me the truth. Did you switch the bones?」 「Clara, you dare lie to me!」 As I wondered how to reply, a call from an unknown number came through. I answered. All I could hear at first was heavy, labored breathing. Then, Abby’s voice, seething with rage. “Clara, you fed my rib to a pig? How could you…” The line went dead. Immediately, my phone rang again. It was Leo. “Clara, where are you? I need to talk to you, it’s urgent!” Hearing the panic in his voice, I knew for sure he was involved. There was no other reason for him to be this desperate to find me. I cut him off with a cold laugh. “Leo, I’ve been thinking, and this isn’t working out. Let’s break up.” “Don’t ever contact me again.” I hung up before he could respond. I didn’t know what his connection to Abby was, but I figured if I stayed away from both of them, they couldn’t hurt me. But when I checked my home security feed on my phone, I saw Leo using a locksmith to pry open my apartment door. I couldn’t go back there. I checked into a hotel for the night, deciding to figure out my next move in the morning. I couldn’t sleep. At two in the morning, my phone started buzzing wildly. It was a video call from Abby. After a long hesitation, I answered. The face on the screen was a complete stranger, yet I could vaguely make out Abby’s features. Her cheekbones were unnaturally high, her eyes were long, narrow, and slanted upwards, and a grotesque smile was plastered on her face. “Guess where I am…” The camera spun around. It was a pigpen. In the moonlight, I could see Uncle Ben’s old sow undergoing a horrific transformation. Its snout was shrinking, its eyes were moving down and growing larger. A human face was beginning to emerge from the pig’s head. And then the creature, not quite human, not quite pig, opened its mouth and spoke in Abby’s sickly sweet voice. “Clara, we promised, remember? Best friends forever. Why did you break your promise…?” A tidal wave of terror washed over me. The phone slipped from my hand and clattered to the floor, ending the call. A crash of thunder rattled the window. A storm had rolled in. I was grateful I wasn’t at home. This was a horror movie come to life. Just as I let out a breath of relief, a notification popped up on my phone. It was from the couples app Leo and I used, which tracked our proximity to each other. 「Your distance from your partner is now 5km… 3km… 900m…」 My blood ran cold. How did he know where I was? Did he put a tracker on my phone? I did a quick check, but found nothing. Then, a frantic knocking echoed from my hotel room door. Was it Leo? But the app said he was still three hundred meters away. A strange, melodic voice called from the other side of the door. “Clara, it’s me, your best friend Abby… open the door…” The voice was a horrifying mix of Abby’s and something animalistic. Goosebumps prickled my skin. I slid down the door, my back pressed against the wood, my hand clamped over my mouth to stifle a scream. My hands shaking, I fumbled for my phone to call the police. Just then, a message came through from Uncle Ben. 「Clara, where are you? Something’s happened at the farm! The old sow… she’s talking! She keeps calling your name. It’s terrifying. I’ve called the cops, do you want to come see?」 But the thing that was—or wasn’t—Abby was still outside my door. Hearing my silence, it began to claw at the wood, a high, piercing screech that set my teeth on edge. My phone buzzed again. It was Ben. 「The sow is getting worse. The police don’t know what to do. It’s speaking in full sentences now, says it’s going to get even with you. Clara, did you mess with something you shouldn’t have?」 Before I could reply, the thing outside spoke again. “Clara, I know you’re in there… why won’t you open the door?” Then, its voice dropped, becoming a gravelly, unfamiliar snarl. “Did you think you could hide from me? You can’t escape the swap…” Suddenly, there was a scraping sound at the window. I whipped my head around. A dark silhouette was climbing up the side of the building, its shape visible against the rain-streaked glass. My blood turned to ice. It wasn’t the shape of a person. And the voice outside my door hadn’t sounded like Abby anymore, either. Who were they? Trapped, I didn’t know what to do. My phone screen lit up. It was a new message from the anonymous account on the forum.

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In Port Sterling, everyone knew the story of the old Kingpin of Cards: two wives, two daughters. My mother came from the graceful, old-money Ashworths; Vivian’s mother was all fire and audacity. Vivian and I were oil and water from the start. She thrived in glittering galas and gritty corners alike—a natural at the tables, adored by all. Except Johnny Thorne. He saw only me, whispering, “Sera, you’re the only one who matters.” Vivian took it as war. She raided his casinos; their battle for dominance was fierce. It ended when Johnny inherited my father’s crown as the new Kingpin. I thought we’d won. Then the Ashworth fortune was seized—my mother’s dowry, her heirlooms, all gone to auction. I burst into Johnny’s room and found him with Vivian, tangled in the sheets. “If your wife knew you ruined the Ashworths,” Vivian purred, “would she still have you?” The truth shattered me. Johnny met my devastation with a cold smile. “Since you know,” he said, “play by the city’s rules. Want your mother’s legacy back? Take a seat at the table.” 1 I swayed, my vision blurring at the edges, and nearly collapsed. I dug my nails into my thigh, the sharp pain a brutal anchor to reality. This wasn’t a nightmare. The man who had whispered declarations of love to me just last night had shed his skin, revealing the monster beneath. “Pfft. A good little girl like my sister has probably never even touched a deck of cards. Does she even know how many suits there are?” Vivian chuckled, covering her crimson lips with a delicate hand. She rose from the bed, shrugging on a silk robe. Her pale skin was a canvas of angry red marks from their passion. A wave of nausea churned in my stomach. Johnny had always been so gentle with me, almost hesitant in our intimacy. “Sera, you’re too perfect,” he would murmur, holding me close. “I’m afraid I’ll break you.” It turned out he was just saving his real passion for someone else. Johnny said nothing. He let Vivian settle onto his lap, lighting a cigar for her and then taking it from her lips with his own in a gesture of sickening intimacy. The last ember of hope in my heart turned to ash. I took a deep, shuddering breath. “Fine. I agree. Let’s play.” Vivian’s eyes widened for a second, then she burst into laughter. “This is priceless! Absolutely priceless! I never thought I’d live to see the day our precious Miss Ashworth sits down at a gambling table. Johnny, darling, you promised me a fun night. This is going to be spectacular.” Johnny’s hand was still resting on her waist. My words seemed to startle him, too. He glanced at me, his fingers tightening on her hip. “Alright. Anything you want.” He finally stood and walked toward me, his face a mask of feigned pity. “Sera, you always make things so difficult. Is it really that hard to just learn to submit?” I met his gaze, my own eyes cold as ice. “Let’s not waste any more time. Let’s go.” But as I turned, a single, traitorous tear escaped and traced a hot path down my cheek. The elevator descended, a silent drop into the city’s glittering, gold-plated heart of darkness three floors below ground. As the doors slid open, a wall of noise hit me—cheers, shouts, the clatter of chips. A few of the old crew saw me and faltered. “Miss Seraphina? Johnny isn’t here today…” These were my father’s men once, before they pledged their loyalty to Johnny. They had always treated me with a fawning respect, calling me “Miss Seraphina” or “the boss’s lady.” Then the elevator doors opened again. Vivian walked out, clinging to Johnny’s arm without a shred of shame. A hush fell over the room for a heartbeat. Then, I heard a collective sigh of relief. “Well, you should have just said! We were trying to cover for you guys.” They swarmed Vivian, laughing and joking, their camaraderie disgustingly familiar. My eyes burned again. Everyone knew. I was the only fool left in the dark. Vivian, a cigarette dangling from her lips, shot me a sultry, victorious look. “My dear sister is joining us at the table tonight, everyone. Be sure to treat her well.” The whispers started immediately. “No way. Seraphina Ashworth? At a card table?” “You haven’t heard? The Ashworths got slammed these past two months. Johnny taught them a lesson for always siding against Vivian. He’s just defending his girl’s honor.” My nails dug into my palms. My grandfather, my uncle, my cousin—they had always adored my mother and me. They never hid their contempt for the second family, and business clashes were frequent. But to think Johnny would dismantle my entire family’s legacy… just to appease Vivian… It was only then, with everyone watching, that Johnny finally addressed me directly. “Sera, the rules of this city are simple. Once you sit at the table, you can’t walk away. Are you sure you want to do this?” A bitter laugh escaped my lips. “Those things on that auction block are mine. I’m walking out of here with them tonight.” Vivian sauntered over. “So, what’s it going to be? Poker? Blackjack? Let’s not say I’m bullying you. How about something simple… Mahjong?” A smirk played on Johnny’s lips. He wasn’t even trying to hide his contempt. After all, I probably didn’t even know how many tiles were in a Mahjong set. But after a moment of silence, I lifted my chin. “Fine. Mahjong it is.” 2 The room erupted. “Is she insane? Everyone in Port Sterling knows Vivian is a Mahjong prodigy! That tile-reading technique of hers was taught by the old Kingpin himself. I’ve never won a single game against her!” “They always said the Ashworths were too high and mighty for us common folk. I can’t believe Seraphina actually has the guts to play.” “What do you know? A fight between two women over one man is the best kind of show. Looks like the new Kingpin has the same tastes as the old one—wants the pleasure of having both! Hahaha!” The crude remarks washed over me, but I didn’t care. After I agreed, Vivian’s smile widened, while Johnny’s face hardened. But she ignored him, her voice ringing with excitement. “Well, now! It’s me, my sister, and Johnny. We’re short one player. Who wants in?” Hands shot up across the room, but Vivian, as if by design, chose Carter Vance—a man known throughout the city for his predatory habits and wandering hands. As Carter sat down, he leaned in close, his breath hot on my ear. “Miss Seraphina, you just ask me nicely, and I’ll be sure to feed you some good tiles.” I turned away in disgust. The table was set up in an instant, and we became the center of the universe. Every other game in the casino stopped. The entire floor crowded around to watch the spectacle. Johnny clapped his hands, and a sneer touched his lips. Several security guards in black suits wheeled in a series of display carts. As the velvet cloths were whipped away, the brilliant fire of jewels lit up the faces of the onlookers. A lump formed in my throat. It was all there. My mother’s dowry. Vivian’s eyes gleamed with avarice. “My, what a lovely collection. I’ll have to play my best tonight. Win all these little trinkets to give to my maids to play with.” Her words were a deliberate provocation, a poisoned dart aimed straight at my heart. The room went quiet. It was common knowledge in Port Sterling that Vivian’s mother had started out as nothing more than a maid in my mother’s household. She was slapping me in the face. Under Johnny’s watchful eye, the dealer approached, his hands trembling slightly. “Ladies and gentlemen, the stakes for each round will be settled individually. For this first round, Mr. Thorne has offered ‘The Tear of the Pacific,’ a 22-carat Kashmir sapphire ring.” “We will now roll the dice to determine the dealer.” My breath caught. I couldn’t tear my eyes from the ring glittering on the velvet stand. It had been my mother’s favorite. I clenched my fists, my knuckles white. My hand shook as I cast the dice. They tumbled across the felt, landing on a paltry six. I lowered my head in defeat. Vivian rolled next, a triumphant twelve. She let out a low whistle. “Ooh, I like that ring. It’ll look fabulous on my little Lumi at home. Excellent taste, Johnny. In that case, I’ll put up the deed to my West End estate.” Gasps rippled through the crowd. She had snatched that piece of land from Johnny at the beginning of the year, a move that had left him fuming for weeks. I saw Johnny let out a small, indulgent chuckle. Vivian shot him a flirtatious wink. They were flirting right in front of me. “Sister, what about you?” Vivian’s voice was syrupy sweet. “I remember that magnificent Starfall Tiara you have. How about that?” My head snapped up. The Starfall Tiara. It was my wedding gift from Johnny, studded with 108 flawless South Sea pearls. Its debut had dominated the headlines of every newspaper in the city for a week. It was the proof that Johnny had once loved me. I gritted my teeth. “Fine. The tiara.” My palms were slick with sweat. My hands felt clumsy and foreign as I drew my tiles. I kept thirteen of them face down, trying to push them forward with a flourish like I’d seen others do, but I fumbled. Tiles scattered, two of them clattering to the floor. The crowd roared with laughter. “Is she here for comic relief?” Even Vivian couldn’t suppress a smirk. But it was like I was underwater; I couldn’t hear a thing. Compared to the effortless confidence of Vivian and Johnny, I was a clown. I shakily discarded a few tiles. “One of Bamboo. Pong,” Johnny declared, his voice flat. The next second, Vivian’s voice rang out, giddy with excitement. “Four of Characters. Kong.” A bead of sweat trickled down my forehead. Then came the voice I had been dreading. “Dealer’s self-drawn win,” Vivian announced, her voice dripping with triumph. “I win. Sister, your Starfall Tiara is mine now.” 3 The first round ended with Vivian’s complete victory. My face was ashen. I sat there, head bowed, feeling the weight of a hundred pairs of eyes on me. Johnny, seated to my left, leaned over slightly. “Sera, it’s not too late to walk away.” I whipped my head around to face him, my jaw tight. “No. We continue.” His expression hardened, and he let out a cold snort. Vivian tugged on his sleeve, cooing like a spoiled child. “It’s all thanks to you, darling, feeding me all the right tiles. Are we being too mean to my poor sister?” Johnny sneered. “She’s the great Miss Ashworth. She can take it.” The dealer brought the sapphire ring to Vivian. She played with it for a moment, admiring the sparkle, then casually tossed it over her shoulder. It landed with a soft plink in a bystander’s champagne flute. “It’s not that impressive up close. Nothing special.” I stared at her, my body rigid with fury, and tried to stand. Two of Johnny’s guards immediately stepped forward, their hands on my shoulders, forcing me back into my seat. Vivian leaned in, her voice a venomous whisper only I could hear. “You and your mother, always so high and mighty. The way you used to look down on us… it made me sick. Second round, Seraphina. Do you still have the nerve to play?” I heard my own voice, thin and reedy. “Again.” Vivian snapped her fingers. “Second round, I’m betting my Rosewood Manor. And sister, look over there. Isn’t that your mother’s favorite pink diamond necklace on the display stand?” I was silent for a long moment. “I’m in,” I said, my voice hoarse. “The Oceanview Penthouse at Marina Bay.” When we were eighteen, Vivian had wheedled a new house out of our father. Not to be outdone, Johnny had made a grand spectacle of buying me the Marina Bay penthouse. “Sera,” he had said then, his eyes full of adoration, “anything she has, you will have better.” I took a deep breath, forcing myself to calm down. The second round began. Vivian was practically glowing with confidence. Johnny, still seated to her right, was now openly feeding her winning tiles. “Three of Bamboo…” I discarded. “Pong!” Vivian’s voice was sharp and clear. She discarded a tile with a triumphant smirk. “Your turn, sister. Try to keep your tiles on the table this time.” A wave of suppressed snickers went through the crowd. I pressed my lips into a thin line, my fingers stiff as I drew a new tile. I knew they were ganging up on me. I knew my chances were nonexistent. But I couldn’t back down. I wouldn’t. My hand was a chaotic mess, a jumble of useless tiles. Every time I tried to build a sequence, Johnny would discard the one tile that blocked me. The moment I was waiting for a single tile to win, Vivian would claim it, holding it back as if she could see right through my hand. “Oh, my. I’ve been waiting for this Red Dragon for ages,” Vivian chirped, taking the tile Johnny had just discarded. “Kong!” She gracefully drew a replacement tile from the end of the wall, her thumb stroking its surface for a fraction of a second. Her smile bloomed into a radiant grin as she slammed the tile onto the table. “A win off the replacement tile! A pure straight flush! So sorry, sister. I’ve won again!” Her voice, laced with pure, unadulterated glee, echoed in my ears. A roaring filled my head, and my vision swam. Lost. I had lost again. The Marina Bay penthouse… another monument to his false promises, now another trophy for Vivian. The dealer presented the deed and the keys to her. She held them up to the light, inspecting them for a moment before casually tossing them to one of her cronies. “Here, it’s yours. Weren’t you saying you liked the place? Go on, take your little models there for a party.” The man bowed and scraped. “Thank you, Miss Vivian! You’re too generous!” He even had the gall to jangle the keys in my direction. I felt the blood freeze in my veins. Vivian leaned across the table. “You see, sister? Everything you cherish is worthless to me. Your man, your possessions… if I want them, I take them. So, shall we play a third round? What else do you have left to bet? Oh, I know. Your mother’s favorite antique pearl tiara is still sitting on that display stand…” Tears burned behind my eyes, but I refused to let them fall. Under the weight of every gaze in the room, I heard my own trembling voice. “Continue.” 4 Vivian let out a peal of laughter and draped herself over Johnny. “Did you hear that, darling? She wants to keep going. Don’t you dare say I’m bullying her.” The muffled laughter in the room grew louder. “Just give it up, Miss Ashworth. You can’t beat them.” “Vivian and Johnny together? No one in Port Sterling could win against that pair.” Johnny finally looked at me, a flicker of something unreadable in his eyes. “Sera, enough is enough. If you keep this up, you’ll lose more than just your possessions.” I understood his threat. But at this point, I had no way out. “I said, continue.” The game went on. The stakes got higher and higher. I became just like every other crazed gambler who’d lost their senses at the table. No fatigue, no reason. “The Porsche.” “The villa at Silver Creek.” “The yacht.” “The trust fund.” “The company shares…” Every asset to my name became a chip on the table. One by one, they were brought out. And one by one, they were lost. Vivian and Johnny read my every move, anticipated my every play. No matter how hard I fought, it was useless. “Big Four Winds.” “Seven Pairs.” “Thirteen Wonders.” “You lose, sister.” “You lose.” “Seraphina, you’ve lost again.” I was numb. Vivian’s side of the table was overflowing with chips. My face was a pale mask as I discarded a Nine of Characters. “All terminals. Sorry, I win again.” My body went limp, and I sank back into my chair. I opened my mouth to say “again,” but the dealer stepped forward, his expression hesitant. “My apologies, Miss Seraphina, but you have no assets left to your name.” The buzzing of the crowd flooded my ears again. My hands and feet were ice. I didn’t know what to do. Instinctively, I looked at Johnny. For the last twenty years, he had been my guardian angel, my protector, always there when I needed him. But tonight, in my darkest hour, he was my opponent, the architect of my ruin. The spectators, sensing Johnny’s attitude toward me, grew bolder. “Out of cash, Miss Ashworth? How about you spend a night with me? I’ll lend you a million, how about it?” “I’ll offer two million! Come on, give me a night of fun, hahaha!” The filth washed over me. Vivian, drunk on her winning streak, was lounging against Johnny’s shoulder. “I’m getting a little tired of this. Let’s be sisters, just for a moment. I’ll give you a quick end. One final round. I’ll bet everything I’ve won from you so far. You in?” I met her eyes and slowly shook my head. “No. That’s not enough.” My gaze shifted, locking onto Johnny. “For the final hand, I’m betting on myself.” A collective gasp went through the room. “If I lose,” I announced, my voice clear and steady, “I, Seraphina Ashworth, will voluntarily renounce all rights to the family inheritance, leave with nothing, and…” I took a breath. “As you wish, I will get out of Port Sterling and never return. If you lose, I want everything I’ve lost back, and everything you both own.” The casino floor exploded. The stakes were astronomical. Johnny’s face went dark. Vivian frowned. “Are you insane?” But I was possessed by the fever of a true gambler. “Do you dare?” Vivian sneered. “Bet! Why wouldn’t I? Johnny, let’s play! Let’s make her lose so badly she’ll have no choice but to crawl out of this city for good!” I nodded slowly. With a loud clatter, Vivian pushed her mountain of chips to the center of the table. I pushed my single, symbolic chip forward. Our eyes met across the table. “All in.” The sound of dice rolling filled the air once more. I looked up, my voice ringing with newfound authority. “This time, I’m the dealer.” Shuffling. Building the walls. My movements were still not perfectly smooth, but this time, they did not tremble. Thirteen tiles lay securely before me, face down. Vivian was getting impatient. “Just give up if you can’t win.” I ignored her. Under the stunned gaze of every single person in the room, I slowly, one by one, turned my thirteen tiles face up. “A Heavenly Hand. The Thirteen Orphans. I win it all.” Johnny and Vivian shot to their feet as if electrocuted. “That’s impossible!”

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My favorite idol got canceled, and I was sobbing in an internet café. The hot guy next to me lost his game and ripped off his headset in frustration. “What the hell are you crying for? I’ll win the next round. I’ll be your man.” And just like that, I found myself nervously watching him play, terrified he’d lose. 1 This guy had a “player” face—sharp, aggressive, and dangerously handsome. He looked like trouble. I recognized him. Caleb Rivers, the heartthrob from the art school next door. Someone I would never cross paths with in a million years was now offering to be my man? Talk about a pie falling from the sky—and a sweet one at that! In the middle of the game, he “died” once. during the respawn countdown, he glanced sideways at me, his gaze lazy and tired. That look seemed to say: Relax, I’m definitely going to be your man. Finally, the screen flashed VICTORY. I got so excited I couldn’t help myself and grabbed his arm. “Bro, you won!” I realized how forward I was being as soon as I said it. But hey, I’m a sucker for good looks. A little lack of reserve is normal. The man leaned back in his chair, headset hanging loosely around his neck, his tone casual. “So, are we dating for real?” He said it with a smile, not quite a question, but not quite a statement either. “Wait… didn’t you say it?” My voice was timid, but inside, I was already cursing him out. Just then, four men in suits walked up behind us. They looked like bodyguards. The leader nodded slightly. “Mr. Rivers, if you’ve had enough fun, it’s time to go home.” “…” What is this? This vibe was giving “Domineering CEO drags his little wife home.” I couldn’t help but look at the guy next to me. Drop-dead gorgeous, but frowning with impatience. He turned to meet my gaze for half a second, then suddenly smirked. “Can’t I even say a few words to my girlfriend without you interfering?” “…” I blinked. He had already taken my hand. His palm was warm, sending a tingle straight to my racing heart. The bodyguard was clearly stunned. “Of course, sir. We wouldn’t dare.” “…” Caleb didn’t say another word. He just pulled me along and walked out. 2 Standing on the street corner, my thoughts slowly returned. My idol got canceled, but I got a boyfriend out of it? Thank you, cancel culture! Caleb let go of my hand, pulled out a cigarette, and lit it with his head tilted to the side. Smoke drifted from his pale hand. He had this undeniable bad-boy aura. “Crying that hard over a breakup?” he asked. I wanted to explain, but it felt unnecessary. “Have you always…” I swallowed, “liked me?” With a move like that, it was hard not to misunderstand. Caleb took a drag, chuckled lightly, and stubbed out the cigarette on a trash can. He didn’t say anything, which felt like a silent admission. He really had a secret crush on me! I felt a sudden pang of guilt. “I’ll take responsibility for you.” “…” I don’t know which part tickled his funny bone, but his shoulders shook with laughter, muscles flexing under his white tee. “Babe, you really are clueless.” He grabbed my hand again. “Hungry? Let’s get some food.” I hadn’t eaten much for lunch, so I was actually starving. On the way, we ran into a few of his friends. “Yo, Caleb, who’s this?” “You turned down Vanessa for this innocent little bunny?” “Where are your bodyguards? How come they aren’t tailing you today?” I’ve always been a well-behaved girl. Hearing these guys from a different crowd talking about me made my cheeks burn. Caleb’s tone was light. He took a cigarette offered by a friend and twirled it in his fingers. “Why would they follow me? To watch us hold hands? Or to watch us…” He didn’t finish because I slapped his shoulder in embarrassment. I guessed what he was going to say and glared at him. Caleb raised an eyebrow and gave me a meaningful smile. This scene caused the guys opposite us to hoot and holler. “Since when is Caleb whipped?” “…” Caleb didn’t linger. He laughed, cursed them out, and dragged me away. 3 We found a dessert shop. I have a serious sweet tooth. I took a bite of a waffle and peeked at him, only to lock eyes. He hadn’t touched his food. I quickly lowered my head. A few seconds later, I heard a faint chuckle by my ear. “Why are you blushing?” His voice was cool but laced with a smile that made my heart flutter. I wiped my hands. “Why do you keep staring at me?” “I’m looking at my own girlfriend. Got a problem with that?” My face turned even redder. I changed the subject. “Why do those bodyguards follow you?” He stirred his coffee absentmindedly. A few seconds later, he looked up at me lazily, clearly up to no good. “To be honest, babe, I’m sick.” “…” I stared at him, stunned. “What kind of sickness?” He didn’t answer directly, looking away. “I do like you, but I don’t want to hold you back. So maybe we should just…” His tone was pitiful. Paired with that handsome face, it triggered my savior complex instantly. In that moment, I was Mother Teresa. I put my hand over his. “Caleb Rivers, don’t worry. I won’t abandon you.” A flicker of stiffness crossed his brow, but then he laughed out loud and held my hand back. “Glad to hear it.” 4 The news of Caleb dating spread to every campus confession page by the next day. “Holy sht, my crush is taken?”* “Help! How does this girl compare to Vanessa? She looks like such a ‘pick-me’…” “…” The words “pick-me” kept replaying in my head. I was so mad I threw my phone. Just one photo and they decided I was a “pick-me” girl? “Summer, tell me, how did you hook Caleb?” My best friend, Lila, whispered, leaning in. I raised an eyebrow. “He confessed to me.” Silence. Lila laughed. “You think I’m stupid? Caleb just rejected the campus queen next door, and then confessed to you?” She switched to a fawning smile. “Get to know him better, introduce his friends to me. Keep the good stuff in the family.” “…” I brushed her off and went to find Caleb. The basketball court stands were packed with girls. Oh, and the four bodyguards standing on the sidelines. “Caleb, your girlfriend is here,” someone said. I looked in that direction. He was wearing a black tee and gray sweatpants, his features sharp and cold. He was wiping sweat with a towel. He was tall. He walked towards me, towel in hand, the muscles in his neck and shoulders on full display. “What’s up?” His tone was casual. I lowered my head. They called me a “pick-me,” right? Fine, I’ll show them a pick-me. Without thinking, I hugged him. 5 Boys hooted around us, enjoying the drama. A girl in the stands stood up and left. His waist was really firm. My ears burned, and I couldn’t focus on anything else. I looked up at him and saw his Adam’s apple bob slowly. Caleb looked down, his hand resting on my waist. “Don’t start. I’m sweaty.” I shook my head, looking aggrieved, forcing tears into my eyes. “They called me a pick-me.” Caleb looked uncomfortable and clicked his tongue. “How did I end up with such a crybaby girlfriend?” Suddenly, a basketball flew from the next court. I instinctively shrank into his arms. He raised a hand and intercepted the ball effortlessly. Frowning, his tone unchanged: “Who called you that?” That move was so hot I was dazed. “Just… online.” Caleb nodded. “Got it.” “…” That’s it? I poked his wrist. “Lunch together?” Caleb didn’t speak. His gaze remained calm. He glanced behind me, his voice lazy. “Sure.” After he showered, he naturally took my hand. He looked at the bodyguards nearby. “We’re going on a date. You coming too?” The leader hesitated for a few seconds, then shook his head.

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While at work, I suddenly received an anonymous text. The sender asked if I would sell them my phone. If I refused, the consequences would be severe. I thought it was a scam and deleted the message without a second thought. But at lunch, a greedy coworker stole a drumstick from my DoorDash order, and he died on the spot. We thought it was food poisoning. But the doctor frowned and said: “Call the police.” “Cyanide poisoning. This was a murder attempt.” 1 “Can you describe exactly what happened at the time?” After the police arrived, they took the case very seriously. Homicide is no joke. I started to recount the events: “It was just like any other day. I grabbed my lunch delivery, but my boss suddenly asked me to run a file upstairs.” “So I left the food on my desk.” “My coworker got hungry and stole a drumstick from the box. And then…” The detective nodded. “Matches what we saw on the security footage.” “Our current assessment is that the target was you. Your coworker was just collateral damage.” “Think carefully. Have you offended anyone recently?” I shook my head. “I’m just a corporate drone. Who would I offend?” “At most, I argue with my boss about project proposals.” Hearing this, my boss standing nearby jumped in, terrified: “Officer, that’s normal work discussion! I wouldn’t poison someone over that! It’s not even my company!” The detective smiled and nodded. “Don’t worry. You were in your office the whole time. You had no opportunity to poison the food, so you’ve been cleared.” He turned back to me. “Think harder. Any conflicts of interest that might have happened unintentionally?” Suddenly, I remembered the anonymous text from that morning. I showed it to the detective. He frowned. “It’s highly likely this is the person responsible. But why do they want your phone?” I shook my head. “I have no idea.” The detective thought for a moment. “Come with me to the station. We need to check if there’s anything on your phone.” I spent the entire afternoon at the police station, but we found nothing. Photos, videos, chat history—everything was normal. What was the trigger that made someone want to kill me? With no leads, the police had to let me go home, advising me to be careful. As for food, they arranged for someone to deliver meals to me to prevent another poisoning attempt. That gave me some peace of mind. Back home, I tossed and turned in bed, unable to sleep, trying to figure out how to solve this. The police had traced the number—it was a virtual number, unregistered. The location couldn’t be tracked either. All I knew was that until they got my phone, I was in danger. Of course, I couldn’t just destroy the phone. That might provoke them further. I picked up the phone and looked through it again. Nothing stood out. Was it like in the movies? Was there a microchip of drugs hidden inside? I examined the phone. It was a foldable, ultra-thin model. Even if there were drugs inside… How much could there be? A few grams? Surely not enough to justify poisoning someone! Unless they were crazy. I felt there must be something else in the phone that made them so desperate. Exhausted by fear, I eventually drifted off to sleep. Until a knock on the door woke me up. A voice called from outside: “Hello, I’m with the police department. Delivering your dinner.” I groggily moved to open the door, but something felt off. I looked through the peephole. The person was wearing a police uniform. But he announced himself as a police officer. Why was he alone? Don’t officers always work in pairs? 2 “Just leave it at the door! I’m in the bathroom!” I shouted from the direction of the bathroom. The voice came again: “I have some questions I need to go over with you. Just open the door when you’re done.” My heart sank. This guy was planning to come in! Logically, if they needed to contact me, they wouldn’t wait for meal delivery time. Detective Hu, who was handling my case, had my number. He could call anytime. Plus, when I left the station, everyone was busy. They wouldn’t have time to personally deliver food. It would likely be a cafeteria worker or an auxiliary officer. I went back to the peephole and stared at the person outside. His cap was pulled low, obscuring most of his face. What really confirmed he wasn’t a cop was his shoulder patch. It was crooked. Not just hanging crooked, but the uniform was too small, pulling the fabric weirdly. Police uniforms are fitted. This wouldn’t happen. Putting it all together, I texted Detective Hu immediately: Detective Hu, help! There’s someone at my door pretending to be a cop delivering food. He keeps insisting on coming in. Detective Hu replied instantly: Stay safe! We’re on our way! I typed back: Should I try to stall him? Detective Hu replied quickly: Prioritize your safety! You don’t need to fight bad guys. He didn’t say anything else, presumably rushing over. Hearing no movement from inside, the person outside grew impatient. He started banging on the door. “Sir, hurry up. I have another assignment.” “I need to verify some questions with you face-to-face right now.” I stayed silent, waiting for Detective Hu. But things didn’t go as planned. While I waited, I heard the lock being picked. The guy couldn’t wait and was trying to break in. Luckily, my lock was high quality. He fiddled for a while but couldn’t open it. He got more agitated. He started trying to force the door. Terrified, I ran to the kitchen and grabbed a cleaver. If he came in, I’d hack him. I waited in fear. But the lock rattling stopped. The noise outside ceased. It seemed he had left. I cautiously looked through the peephole. He was standing there, motionless! He was pretending to leave to trick me into opening the door. He stood at a clever angle, avoiding the peephole’s view. But he overlooked one thing. The neighbor across the hall loved fashion and had a full-length mirror by her door. Through the peephole, I could see the reflection of a pair of men’s leather shoes in her mirror! I texted Detective Hu again: Detective, be careful when you arrive. He’s baiting me to open the door. He might have a weapon. Detective Hu repeated: Stay safe. Don’t be a hero. Catching criminals is our job. I stopped texting. I watched through the peephole. Suddenly, the person outside turned and left, seemingly giving up on the ambush. Shortly after he left, I heard hurried footsteps. Detective Hu called: “We’re at your door. Open up!” Then came the knock, and Detective Hu’s face appeared in the peephole… 3 “Are you okay?” Detective Hu asked patiently, then inspected the doorway. The suspect was careful and left no traces like hair or fingerprints. Detective Hu was puzzled. Why would someone target a regular office worker like me? He asked about my personal life again. Basically, a normal corporate slave life, 996 schedule (9 am to 9 pm, 6 days a week). Wake up, work, sleep. Almost no free time. The only potential conflict source was mobile gaming. Not that I’m toxic! But when your mid-laner feeds, your jungler is useless, and your support steals kills… Anyone would rage! “Those players, I swear…” I got agitated. Detective Hu sighed. “Alright, alright, Jason. I get it.” “Working all day only to get trolled in a game is frustrating.” “But I don’t think a bad game warrants assassination.” “Unless they’re psychopaths killing for fun.” I looked miserable. “What if they really are psychos?” “Am I doomed?” Detective Hu comforted me. “Don’t worry, we’re investigating.” “It’s only been six hours. We haven’t even finished reviewing the surveillance footage.” “Solving cases takes time.” I nodded. About half an hour later, an older man knocked on the door. Detective Hu opened it and greeted him warmly. “Uncle Zhang, thanks for coming.” Uncle Zhang waved his hand with a smile. “No problem. I was free anyway.” “Besides, this counts as participating in the case, right?” “You know me, can’t sit still.” Detective Hu introduced us. Uncle Zhang, the designated food deliverer, was a retired detective. After retirement, he was bored and kept wanting to work. The department, seeing his enthusiasm, gave him a job in the cafeteria. Usually, Uncle Zhang wasn’t thrilled about it, but hearing he was protecting a victim, he lit up. Not only did he volunteer to deliver food, but he also geared up with a stab-proof vest and a baton. Planning to be my bodyguard! I looked at Uncle Zhang. He was fit, definitely stronger than me. But he was old enough to be my dad. I felt bad troubling him. Uncle Zhang patted his chest. “Don’t worry, kid. I was a champion in the police combat tournament back in the day!” “A couple of thugs are nothing!” Detective Hu sat Uncle Zhang down. Confirming I was okay, they left together. Uncle Zhang told me: “Kid, just leave the dishes when you’re done.” “I’ll pick them up tomorrow.” “I know you young people hate washing dishes.” Looking at Uncle Zhang, I felt inexplicably moved. If my dad were still around, he’d probably take care of me like this. I opened the lunch box. Beef stew with potatoes. Police cafeteria food was good; the beef chunks were huge. Eating, I replayed the day’s events. I opened my phone, scrolling endlessly. What on earth was in here that someone wanted me dead for? Still nothing. But I sensed something. Maybe I didn’t know the secret in my phone either. That’s why they just demanded the phone without saying what they wanted! But what could be on my phone that I didn’t know about? Pacing the room, my eyes landed on the door, and I realized something even more terrifying! Why did the suspect leave? And the timing was perfect? Just a minute or two later, he would have run into Detective Hu… 4 “He was in the stairwell. He couldn’t have known Detective Hu was coming up.” “That means he wasn’t alone.” My eyelid twitched. I looked from my window to the building opposite. The building wasn’t far. You could see into the living rooms. Looking down from my floor, the height was perfect to see the street below. Goosebumps erupted all over my body. If there was someone in the opposite building watching my every move when the knock came… It fits! The suspect avoiding the peephole, pulling his cap low… It was all to avoid my attention. A person outside the door couldn’t be so omniscient. But if there was a spotter across the street, it explained everything. My breathing grew heavy. If there wasn’t just one suspect, but two or more, I was in deep trouble. I kept thinking. My home wasn’t safe. If they didn’t want the phone back, but just wanted to destroy it, they had many ways. Like starting a fire! Or staging an “accident” in my home… Most importantly, I didn’t know what was on the phone. I couldn’t assess the danger or negotiate. I had thought about contacting them to give up the phone. But they didn’t know if I had seen the secret. They dared to poison someone. If they suspected I knew their secret, I was dead! First thing I did was close all the curtains. couldn’t let them see what I was doing. As for thermal imaging, I doubted they had it. Even for a large organization, that kind of equipment is strictly controlled. So, my temporary safety relied on the country’s strict gun control laws. I didn’t believe they could blow my door open with a grenade and spray me with machine gun fire! After closing the curtains, I checked the room for bugs. Maybe my place was bugged. As for next door, it shouldn’t be bugged. An elderly couple lived there; they didn’t rent out rooms. I had a good relationship with them, even ate with them before. Confirming the room was safe, I used my spare phone to call Detective Hu. Fearful my main phone was tapped. I looked at my phone, wanting to slap myself. I used it to contact Detective Hu earlier. Maybe there wasn’t anyone across the street; maybe the phone was just compromised. The call connected, and I reported to Detective Hu: “Detective, I found something new.” Detective Hu’s voice was calm: “Go ahead, I’m taking notes.” I told him my analysis and actions. After all, Detective Hu was the person I trusted most right now. He thought for a moment and said: “It’s very possible.” “The number used to text you has never appeared before.” “It was registered specifically for you and went dormant immediately after.” “We’ve backed up your phone data and are analyzing it.” “I’ll let you know as soon as we have results.” He paused, then told me the plan: “Don’t go to work for the next few days. I’ll get you paid leave under the pretext of cooperating with an investigation.” “Except when sleeping, send me a video message every two hours to confirm you’re safe.” “During sleep hours, I’ll arrange for plainclothes officers to patrol outside your building.” I thanked him profusely. But analyzing it, I couldn’t smile anymore…

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When I was eighteen, my dad came home with my nemesis and a DNA test report in hand. Suddenly, floating comments appeared before my eyes like a live stream: “The heroine is no longer the only daughter of the Vanderbilt family.” “The show begins! Let me savor this family drama!” I was furious and slammed the table: “You bold illegitimate child! How dare you step into my house!” My dad immediately covered my mouth and scolded: “Don’t talk nonsense! Julian is your mom’s and my biological son.” Julian and I were born on the same year, same month, and same day. If he is my mom and dad’s child… Then who am I? 1 High school graduation. I walked out of the exam hall full of confidence, looking for my nemesis, Julian. The exam felt smooth. I wouldn’t say I’d be the state valedictorian, but beating Julian should be a lock. I had to go rub it in his face. The students poured out of the school like wild dogs off the leash. But finding Julian was easy. Just look for the tallest guy in the crowd. After all, Julian is 6’3″. I scanned the crowd and locked onto him instantly. Julian looked weird today. He was wearing a flashy suit and seemed to have styled his hair. Looking a little handsome. The roses in his arms were still fresh with dew. Oh no, this guy is definitely going to confess his love to someone. I calculated the failure rate of Julian’s confession. Rich kid, straight-A student, school heartthrob, captain of the basketball team with abs… Plus a bunch of first-place trophies from various competitions. With all these buffs, the probability of Julian failing his confession was lower than the sun rising from the west tomorrow. Is this guy really going to win at both love and academics? No way. Not on my watch. I hid behind the crowd, secretly took a photo, and sent it to Julian’s mom. Auntie May, I’m reporting Julian for dating early. Auntie May replied quickly: Bella, isn’t Julian confessing to you? Are you rejecting him and reporting him at the same time? Huh? Me? Confessing to me? In an instant, I felt like I was hit by Pikachu’s Thunderbolt, fried to a crisp. Wait, I’m not a French fry. I mean, I was shocked to the core. No! Is that the point? The point is, I treat Julian as my nemesis, and he wants to date me? Even if he’s the school heartthrob, that’s a no. For the first time, I felt my 5’3″ height was actually pretty good. Easy to slip away. I followed the crowd and snuck home. After graduation, I should be catching up on sleep. Dating is such a waste of time. 2 Sleeping groggily, I felt myself being wrapped in a large embrace. I was too sleepy, found a comfortable position, and continued to sleep. My face felt ticklish, so I swatted at it in my dream. Someone seemed to speak: “Okay, no more kissing.” I don’t know how long I slept before my eyelids were willing to open. As soon as I opened my eyes, a pair of beautiful eyes met mine with a smile. Is this a fox spirit? I reached out and touched his face. So handsome. Consciousness slowly returned. Wait! I finally realized it was that dog Julian who climbed over the balcony into my room again. I kicked him off the bed. Caught off guard, Julian fell with a heavy thud. The floor shook. “Trying to murder your husband?” Julian rubbed his butt and climbed up. Before I could retort, the next second, roses were stuffed into my arms. Julian said, “Happy graduation, my little wifey.” I stuffed them back. “Not accepting, thanks.” Julian stuffed them back again: “You promised to marry me when we were kids.” I stuffed the flowers back again: “Childhood promises don’t count.” Julian: “A gentleman’s promise is heavy as a mountain.” Me: “I’m a villain.” Julian: “You, you, you…” Me: “You what!” … After three hundred rounds, Julian left resentfully. Leaving behind a sentence before he left. “Bella, I’ll be back.” 3 I thought Julian would come back. But I never thought Julian would come back like this. My dad brought him in. I thought he couldn’t out-talk me and decided to try a different approach. But my dad’s expression was wrong, and Julian’s expression was even more wrong. It felt like the world was about to explode in the next second. My dad, hands trembling, took out a paternity test report. The subjects were my dad and Julian. The conclusion read: Based on the analysis of DNA results, it is supported that Arthur Vanderbilt is the biological father of Julian. What?! Maybe because the plot was too melodramatic, it actually summoned bullet screen comments (danmu) floating in the air: “The heroine is no longer the only daughter of the Vanderbilt family.” “The show begins! Let me savor this family drama!” “I expected messy, but not THIS messy!” Julian and I were born on the same year, same month, and same day! That means my dad cheated with Auntie May shortly after being with my mom. Or maybe he came back from cheating and had me with my mom. In an instant, my sky collapsed. No wonder I’ve always felt like Julian and I were astrologically incompatible. Since that’s the case, don’t blame me for not being polite. I was furious, slammed the table, and stood up: “You bold illegitimate child! How dare you step into my house!” Julian looked at me, his eyes full of sadness. Why is he sad? Aren’t my mom and I the biggest victims? I opened my mouth, planning to directly greet the culprit—my dad, that old scumbag. My dad immediately covered my mouth and scolded: “Don’t talk nonsense! Julian is your mom’s and my biological son.” Please, Julian and I were born on the same day. If Julian is my mom and dad’s child… Then who am I? My brain spun fast. My dad is 6’3″, my mom is 5’9″. And I am 5’3″. Growing up, everyone said I didn’t look like my dad or my mom. The bullet screen didn’t forget to add insult to injury: “The heroine is really too cute.” “Why is the heroine’s brain full of illegitimate children? Has she never thought about being switched at birth?” At this point, there is only one truth. The “Switched at Birth” trope has become reality. Julian and I were switched. I am not my mom’s biological daughter! For a mommy’s girl, this is a fatal blow. Moreover, my mom and Auntie May have different parenting philosophies. Thinking about Auntie May’s strict elite education, Julian and his brothers grew up between school and tutoring classes. While my mom had only one attitude: as long as my daughter is happy. That won’t do. I can’t believe this dog-blood life. Oh heavens! Oh earth! Oh fate! I rushed over, hugging my mom and crying: “Mommy, although I’m not your biological daughter, I really love you, I can’t bear to leave you! Mommy, don’t drive me away, don’t send me to Auntie May.” I cried sincerely. It didn’t move my mom; instead, she slapped the back of my head mercilessly. I was shocked, freezing on the spot. Did the love transfer so quickly? I wailed even louder. My mom said grumpily: “I told you to read fewer messy novels, but you wouldn’t listen. Something happens, and you start fantasizing. Your primary task now is to delete that reading app from your phone.” How can I do that? I haven’t finished reading so many good stories. I looked aggrieved. My mom couldn’t help laughing. It melted my dad’s eternal iceberg face, bringing a hint of warmth. My dad patted my head and softened his voice: “Stop crying. We didn’t say you aren’t our biological daughter either.” What? Under my parents’ explanation, I finally figured out the whole story. It turned out my mom gave birth to fraternal twins back then. But Auntie May, who gave birth on the same day in the same VIP ward, had a stillborn baby due to doctor error. The doctor couldn’t afford to offend the richest family in the city, the Sterlings. Seeing that our family had twins, he took my mom’s son, swapping the civet for the prince, to replace the Sterling family’s stillborn. Then he told my family: “Congratulations, you have a precious daughter.” Full of holes. Unreasonable. Makes no sense. I could only ask my mom: “Didn’t you do prenatal checkups?” My mom suddenly had tears in her eyes, looking up at the sky. My dad took out a cigarette, lit it, and took a deep drag. Sighing, he answered: “Your mom and I were DINKs (Double Income, No Kids). If we knew she was pregnant, we would have aborted. Probably knowing our thoughts, you two siblings gave your mom zero pregnancy symptoms and even caused some monthly bleeding to confuse us. When your mom had a stomachache and was sent to the hospital, you two popped out.” Julian and I were silent. Suddenly, a comment floated by. “Although it’s a mess, does anyone feel sorry for our male lead? He’s about to shatter.” Male lead? I looked at Julian. F*ck! I’m the heroine? Julian is the male lead? We are biological siblings! I can only pray we are going for a family affection route. Deep sibling love is barely acceptable. The bullet screen never let me go: “The male lead wakes up to find his beloved wifey became his biological sister. His sky collapsed.” “Male lead’s inner monologue: I wanted wifey to call me ‘Oppa’ (Brother), but I meant it in a romantic way, not a genetic way.” “It’s okay, it’s okay, this is all part of the setbacks. The heroine will end up with the male lead.” “Nemesis trope plus taboo elements, ahhh author you really know what you’re doing.” “Like! Write more! Love to watch!” Oh my god. No way. Everyone knows incest is intolerable to society. The place that tolerates what society doesn’t tolerate is also intolerable to society. Oh no, it’s the German Orthopedics Ward! (Internet slang for incest treatment) My god! Is Julian trying to ruin this family? I sneaked a peek at Julian, trembling with fear. Julian caught me. Julian’s beautiful dark pupils trembled. Sensing my wariness towards him, the pool of spring water in his eyes shattered into a sky full of stars. I didn’t comfort him. Who knows where the comfort would lead? I insist on: better you die than me. Let Julian be sad by himself. 4 I started avoiding Julian. No, I have to call him Arthur Jr. now… wait, no, Julian Vanderbilt. The fact that Julian is my brother brought quite a shock to my circle. They started a new group chat, discussing frantically. “Oh my god, that doctor had some guts. Swapping babies, offending two wealthy families at once!” “Good thing the doctors and nurses involved back then were all sent to prison by the Sterlings.” “Deserved. But I’m curious what Julian thinks?” “What can he think? Probably going crazy. Not playing ball, not logging into games, locking himself in his room all day. He even bailed on the graduation trip to see the Northern Lights in Scandinavia.” “Well, how could Julian go now.” “Why do you say that?” “Because Bella has always liked the Northern Lights. Julian planned to take Bella to see them and bond.” “Julian liked Bella so much, a secret crush for years, finally finding out she’s his biological sister. How can he handle it?” “Feel sorry for Julian.” “Feel sorry +1.” Amidst a pile of sympathy. I belatedly realized that some of Julian’s strange behaviors back then made sense if he liked me. Basketball game, taking away the water I just opened. Insisting on teaching me different solutions to math and physics final questions. Reporting boys who wrote me love letters… Too many to count. Back then, I thought he was provoking me… But it’s meaningless to say these things now. The group was still discussing: “By the way, did Julian confess to Bella? If he succeeded, wouldn’t that be the real-life version of ‘May all lovers turn out to be siblings’?” “Even if they dated, they’d have to break up. Wealthy families like ours can’t accept taboo love.” I really want to curse this pretentious guy to death. Someone beat me to it: “Lee the Second, what nonsense are you spouting? No normal family would accept it, okay!” “Wait, who the hell added Bella to the group!” “Holy sht!”* Amidst a pile of “grass” (slang for f*ck) emojis, the newly established gossip group was disbanded. So uncomfortable, can’t watch them gossip about me anymore. I felt helpless. It’s no longer about love or not love. Julian being my brother is an established fact. We have to stay within the bounds of secular morality. Julian should understand. He thinks about his romance. I think about my inheritance rights. I hope Julian doesn’t hate me because of love and fight too hard for the money. I think a 50/50 split is reasonable. The evening breeze was a bit hot today. Cicadas disturbed my dreams. I climbed up. Stared at the wall Julian used to like climbing the most from the balcony, dazing for a long time. I don’t know how long passed, the door of the balcony next door clicked softly. I turned my head and saw Julian, who now lives next to me. He didn’t expect me to be on the balcony either, stunned for a long time before speaking. “Why… haven’t you slept yet?” The love I didn’t notice before was now surging in Julian’s eyes. I seemed to find the beginning of the tangled mess. Julian’s love was being peeled away bit by bit in front of me. I started to see. But now the love carries struggle. Julian wanted to hide it, but couldn’t. If I had to describe my feelings. It’s that, I rejected him before because I’ve been single since birth and couldn’t accept a confession momentarily. Now it’s a moral judgment! Dame (No)! It won’t pass censorship. I could only pretend to be sleepy and yawned. “Going to sleep now. Goodnight. Brother, you sleep early too.” I turned back to my room and lay down. Couldn’t sleep at all. Because the bullet screen started refreshing: “Brother! One word, shattered our humble male lead’s heart into glass shards.” “It’s most moving when you want to love but can’t.” “Can only say the male lead’s moral bottom line is too high.” Damn, this is basic morality, okay? But I didn’t dare speak, afraid of being discovered. Continued peeking at the bullet screen: “Begging the heroine to look at our broken puppy, he’s turning from a sunny boy into a gloomy ghost.” “Really want to fast forward to the forced love plot.” Forced love? Is this serious? No, I have to escape this terrible native family. Swim fast, little fish, anywhere is freer than here.

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After I closed a $50 million deal for the company, my boss told me: “Honestly, you’re really not as outstanding as Tiffany.” Who? The intern I’ve been mentoring? Seeing my confusion, he doubled down: “Isn’t it true?” “We’ve worked together for years, but you’re always strictly business. No personal touch at all.” “Unlike Tiffany. She hasn’t even gotten her first paycheck, yet she paid out of her own pocket to buy everyone a latte.” “She understands the principle of ‘being a person before doing business’ better than you do.” I suddenly understood. You prefer a $3 latte over a $50 million contract, right? No problem! Right in front of his face, I dialed a number. “Is this Sarah? About that job offer you mentioned last week… I’m in.” “Yes, I’m bringing a $50 million contract and over a hundred client accounts with me.” 1 The final signature was inked on the project proposal. The $50 million letter of intent was a done deal. I dragged my exhausted body back to the office, feeling like I was about to fall apart after three consecutive all-nighters. My temples throbbed painfully. Just as I sat down, before the chair even warmed up, Tiffany walked in carrying a huge bag of coffee. She breezed through the cubicles and headed straight for the boss’s office. Her voice was crisp, laced with that specific, careful eagerness to please that interns have. “Mr. Wallace, you’ve been working hard. Have a coffee to perk up.” Soon, a cup of cheap coffee appeared on everyone’s desk in the office. $3 a cup, thanks to a coupon deal on DoorDash. Tiffany used her meager intern salary to treat the entire team. For a moment, the office was filled with the sound of straws piercing lids and murmured thanks. My boss, David Wallace, walked out of his office holding that cup of coffee, his face glowing. He cleared his throat, and the air in the room seemed to freeze for a second. “Everyone got their coffee, right?” “This is from Tiffany, out of her own pocket. She said it’s a treat for everyone’s hard work lately.” He raised the paper cup like he was making a toast. “This spirit Tiffany has is something we should all learn from.” “An intern who hasn’t even been paid yet, but knows gratitude, knows how to give back to the team.” “What is this called? This is called knowing how to be a person! She has a bright future!” His gaze swept across the room, pausing on me for barely a second before moving on, as if I were just a potted plant on a desk. There was no praise in that look, no acknowledgment, not even a ripple of emotion. For this project, I led the team through a month of overtime, sleeping in the office for the last three days. The $50 million deal I secured was enough to support half the company’s revenue for the coming year. Yet in this moment, the value of all that seemed to vanish into thin air. The air was thick with the cloying scent of cheap creamer, drilling into my nose and making me nauseous. Colleagues around me sipped their coffee, heads down. No one looked at me—maybe they didn’t dare, or maybe they felt it wasn’t necessary. Tiffany stood beside the boss, head slightly bowed. A shy, proper smile played on her lips, like a newly bloomed, harmless white lotus. The sheer absurdity of it washed away all my exhaustion. I stood up, washed my face, grabbed the signed contract, and knocked on David Wallace’s door. “Come in.” I placed the contract on his desk, concise as always. “David, it’s done. Take a look.” He leaned back in his chair, slowly took a sip of his latte, and then flipped through the contract. He didn’t read the specific terms, just flipped to the signature on the last page, nodded, and pushed the contract aside. Then he looked up, scrutinizing me. My expression was probably blank. I couldn’t even squeeze out a perfunctory smile. He saw it. He put down the coffee, interlaced his fingers on the desk, leaned forward slightly, and adopted a “fatherly advice” posture. “Jane, sit.” I didn’t move. He didn’t care and started talking anyway. “Are you upset because I praised Tiffany out there and didn’t mention your contribution?” 2 I remained silent. He sighed, as if disappointed by my lack of understanding. “Jane, to be honest, you really aren’t as outstanding as Tiffany.” He said this as casually as if commenting on the weather. I looked at him—this boss I had followed for seven years, helping him grow the company from a tiny workshop to its current scale. His face wore an earnest look of “I’m doing this for your own good.” “We’ve worked together for so many years, but every time, you’re strictly business. No personal touch at all.” “Project finished, report submitted, and then what? Nothing.” “Have you ever thought about how to win people’s hearts? How to build team cohesion?” He pointed at the latte on the desk, his voice taking on a lecturing tone. “Unlike Tiffany. She hasn’t even gotten her paycheck, yet she paid out of her own pocket to buy everyone a coffee.” “It’s not much money, but that thoughtfulness? How many people can do that?” “She understands the principle of ‘being a person before doing business’ better than you do.” I listened expressionlessly, my heart calm, even finding it a bit funny. So the $50 million I exchanged for my health and energy was worth less to him than a $3 latte. He seemed to forget that the project bonus for everyone in the team would be enough for them to buy a franchise of that coffee shop. I looked at his self-righteous face, slightly puffy from years of wining and dining. Suddenly, everything became clear. Moments from the past that I had deliberately ignored, comforting myself with “he’s just focused on the work,” now flashed through my mind like a movie reel. This wasn’t the first time. Shortly after Tiffany arrived, we were bidding for a municipal project. He asked me to mentor her. Since she was new, I didn’t dare give her core tasks, just let her review materials from my past projects to get familiar with the workflow. Meanwhile, I locked myself in a conference room with two others, grinding day and night for half a month to produce the bid proposal. Every figure was accurate to two decimal places; every plan had a risk assessment. Tiffany, finding the work I assigned too easy, spontaneously made a “conceptual” presentation using a PowerPoint template—only a dozen slides, but with beautiful graphics and cool animations. But at the final internal review meeting, David slammed my proposal on the table and pointed at Tiffany’s PowerPoint. “Jane, look at this! This is visualization! This is user experience!” “Your report is hundreds of pages of dense text. Who has the patience to read that?” “Learn from her! Highlight the key points, make it clear at a glance!” He publicly praised Tiffany for being “inspired” and “understanding communication,” completely ignoring my painstaking cost-benefit analysis. In the end, he demanded I “optimize” my proposal according to Tiffany’s PPT style. I told him many ideas in that PPT were flashy but impractical and impossible to implement. He called me stubborn, inflexible, and “too rigid.” I compromised. I spent two days stuffing my hard work into that hollow, flashy shell. We won the project, of course, because the core data and plans were mine. But at the celebration dinner, David specifically called Tiffany to the main table and said in front of everyone: “We won this thanks to Tiffany’s creativity. Young people have such lively ideas.” 3 Another time, to land a difficult client, I studied all their public information beforehand, even reading several industry papers the client had published. At the negotiation table, I pinpointed his pain points and proposed a partnership plan he couldn’t refuse. On signing day, the client privately told me: “Jane, your professional capability is the strongest I’ve seen.” The company held a celebration dinner. During the meal, Tiffany went around toasting the leaders, spouting flattering words that made David beam with joy. She even remembered David didn’t eat cilantro, silently picking it out of the dish in front of him. After the dinner, in the parking lot, David stopped me, reeking of alcohol. “Jane, look at Tiffany. She knows how to handle people.” “And you? You just buried your head and ate the whole time. The client was sitting next to you, and you didn’t even chat with him.” “Business isn’t just about professional skills. When will you learn how to navigate social situations?” In that moment, I felt incredibly tired. I won the client with professionalism, by creating value for them. Not by flattering them at a dinner table or remembering their dietary restrictions. It’s not that I can’t do these tricks; I just disdain them. I thought that in the workplace, ultimately, results speak for themselves. Now I understand, I was wrong. In David’s world, capability is important, but that’s the baseline, taken for granted. The “social skills” that satisfy his vanity as a boss, making him feel respected and surrounded by admirers, are the bonus points. He doesn’t need a warrior who can conquer territories; he needs a servant who knows how to kowtow. The company’s business model is mature, the client base stable. In his eyes, my value has been squeezed dry. I am a high-speed machine that can now be replaced by countless younger, cheaper, more “personable” parts. He no longer needs a hero to open new frontiers; he needs a courtier to sing his praises. I watched his mouth still moving, spewing clichés about “growth” and “long-term vision.” I confirmed it. The time had come. Seven years. I spent my best years here. I charged into battle for him, cleaned up countless messes, and created countless profits. I hold over half the company’s core client resources in my hands and know the critical points of every link in the business line. I thought this was my career, the fruit of my blood and sweat. But now it seems I was just a self-important employee. Fine. I interrupted his lecture, my voice calm enough to surprise even myself. “…Mr. Wallace, you’re right.” He was still droning on, spittle almost flying onto my face. Those grand principles about “big picture,” “EQ,” and “team cohesion,” coming from his greasy mouth, tasted like chewed-up sugarcane—flavorless. I looked at him and nodded solemnly during a pause in his speech. My face showed a perfect expression of “sudden realization” after being enlightened. “Mr. Wallace, I understand now.” A smug look appeared on his face. He was about to add a few concluding remarks to wrap up this “teaching moment” perfectly. But I didn’t give him the chance. Meeting his surprised gaze, I took my phone out of my pocket, unlocked it, found a number, and pressed dial. The call connected almost instantly. “Hello, Jane? Have you thought about it?” A capable, steady female voice came from the other end. I glanced at David. His expression shifted from smugness to shock, his brows furrowing tightly, eyes full of confusion and wariness. He thought I was acting, threatening him in a childish way. I put it on speaker. The voice wasn’t loud, but clear enough for the other person in the office to hear. “Sarah, about the job offer you mentioned last week… I’m in.” 4 David’s pupils constricted sharply. I continued, my tone as calm as if confirming a regular order. “Yes, I can bring a $50 million annual contract and over a hundred core client resources I’ve maintained for years with me.” “I’ll email you the specific handover list and resource assessment tomorrow.” “That’s wonderful! Jane, I knew I didn’t misjudge you!” Sarah’s voice was filled with undisguised joy. “Don’t worry, the salary and position will definitely satisfy you. We’ve reserved the largest share of the option pool for you. You are welcome anytime!” “Okay, thanks Sarah. I’ll come over once I finish the procedures here.” I hung up and put the phone back in my pocket. The whole process was smooth, without a single hitch. Deathly silence filled the office. David’s face had gone from shocked to completely livid. His chest heaved violently, as if punched in the gut, unable to catch his breath. He stared at me, eyes a mix of disbelief and rage. “Jane!” He slammed the table, making the latte jump. “What is the meaning of this!” “Literal meaning.” I said. “Mr. Wallace, you taught me: be a person first, then do business.” “I think I should change places and learn how to ‘be a person’ properly.” “You…” He was shaking with anger, pointing at my nose, lips trembling, unable to form a complete sentence. He probably never imagined that I, the stable, reliable, even “rigid” machine in his eyes, would one day pull my own plug. His anger finally found an outlet. He grabbed the internal phone, his voice shrill with rage. “Call everyone! Conference room! Now! Immediately!” Ten minutes later, the entire department sat in the conference room, looking confused. The air was heavy; everyone sensed the storm coming. I walked in last and found a seat in the corner. David stood at the head of the table with a dark face, pacing like an enraged bull. He opened with a thunderous accusation. “I called everyone here today to announce something, and to let everyone see someone’s true colors!” His gaze was like a knife, shooting straight at me. “Jane, from our department. An old employee the company spent seven years cultivating.” “Just now, for a meager salary increase, decided to betray the company and jump ship to our competitor!” Gasps filled the room. Everyone’s eyes focused on me, filled with shock and confusion. “That’s one thing. Everyone has their own aspirations, and I, David Wallace, won’t force anyone to stay!” He got more agitated as he spoke, his voice getting louder. “But what is she doing? She wants to take the company’s biggest order and most important client resources with her!” “What kind of behavior is this? This is naked betrayal! Ingratitude! Commercial theft!” He pounded the table, heartbroken, painting himself as a benevolent victim stabbed in the back by his most trusted subordinate. “Did I treat her badly? Which project did the company shortchange her on?” “Relying on a bit of performance, she became self-righteous, arrogant, with zero team spirit!” “The company isn’t hers alone; it belongs to everyone!” “By doing this, she wants to destroy our entire department and smash everyone’s rice bowl!” His speech was impassioned and inflammatory. Colleagues’ expressions shifted from shock to doubt, then from doubt to condemnation. Just then, Tiffany, who had been sitting in the crowd, stood up with red eyes, timing it perfectly.

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The childhood best friend who took care of me for thirteen years… In the fourteenth year, he called me a r*tard and a psycho. On my birthday, he dumped me at a bus stop and left with the new transfer student. I have autism. I hid behind the bus stop sign until late at night. His dad dragged him over to apologize, but he wasn’t having it. “I don’t owe her anything! She’s autistic! If I hadn’t taught her how to speak word by word, she wouldn’t even be functioning like a human!” “I’ve been her nanny for thirteen years. I don’t want to take care of her anymore!” Suddenly, floating comments (danmu) appeared before my eyes: [The male lead is jealous!] [His twin brother pretended to be him and hung out with the heroine all day. She didn’t notice and kept calling him ‘Brother Liam.’ Our jealous puppy was so mad he dug his nails into his palms.] [The heroine is born without empathy. The male lead is using this method to make her understand his feelings.] I froze. So it was his brother that day… Then, is it okay if he keeps pretending? 1 As soon as the school bell rang, I walked over to Liam’s desk. The new girl, Sarah, was standing next to him. Seeing me approach, she nudged him with her elbow. “Your little wifey is here.” Liam was correcting Sarah’s test paper. He didn’t look at me. He didn’t move. I called him: “Brother Liam, home.” Liam didn’t even lift his head. “Go back by yourself. I’m going to the library with Sarah.” I froze. Sarah explained, “It’s for the final sprint before exams. You probably don’t need it.” Autism makes it hard to adapt to change. In my understanding, going home with Liam after school is a fixed rule. Him telling me to go back alone left me at a loss. So I grabbed his hand. “Brother Liam, home.” I said it three times. Liam ignored me. Seeing me tugging at Liam, Sarah suddenly burst out laughing. “She’s like an NPC.” She tilted her chin at Liam. “Didn’t you say Ava listens to you?” Liam’s face changed. He suddenly shook me off with force. Affected by the sudden aggression, I screamed uncontrollably. The whole class looked over. Sarah hid behind Liam. “Whoa, is she crazy?” Liam dragged me out. He was furious. As we walked, he said, “You’re just a psycho who doesn’t know good from bad! Why act like you can’t live without me? You don’t need to study, but I do, okay?” I didn’t quite understand. I asked him, “So are we going home?” He had already dragged me to the bus stop. He sneered. “No!” He left me there and walked back. “Take the 362 home yourself!” 2 My hearing is sensitive. The noise of traffic and strangers affects me greatly. Without someone beside me, I didn’t dare move. I squatted behind the bus stop sign, covering my ears. Liam and Sarah walked past me. I called him, but he walked faster. Bus after bus drove by. I hid behind the sign until night fell. I don’t know how much time passed before Mom drove over and found me. Seeing me curled up in the dark, she hugged me with red eyes. She gave me my medicine, called Liam’s dad, and then took me home. There were many people at home, some I knew, some I didn’t. Mom helped me change into a beautiful princess dress, led me into the crowd, and asked me to cut the cake. Oh. Today is my eighteenth birthday. I didn’t cut it. I promised Brother Liam he would get the first piece of my birthday cake. I ran to the balcony to wait for him. The wind on the balcony was a bit strong, making my eyes sting. I craned my neck to look outside. My neck was sore by the time I saw Liam’s dad dragging Liam from the roadside. Half of Liam’s face was swollen. Uncle Miller scolded Liam, “How could you leave Ava at the bus stop! She’s never taken a bus alone!” Liam retorted, “Is she stupid? Can’t she swipe a card and get off at the stop? What could happen?” Uncle Miller slapped him on the back of the head. “What if she got lost? What if she got hit by a car? Can you handle the consequences if something happened to her?” Mom said if I see someone getting hit, I should stop it. Just as I was about to speak, I saw Liam shake off his dad’s hand and yell. “Why should I bear the consequences? It’s you guys who owe her family! I don’t owe her anything! She’s autistic! If I hadn’t taught her to speak word by word, she wouldn’t even be human! I’ve been her nanny for thirteen years, what more do you want?” I froze, belatedly clutching my chest. It seemed to hurt a little. Uncle Miller pointed at Liam. “You, you…” He stammered for a long time but couldn’t get the words out. Finally, he sighed, “But she only recognizes you…” Liam said resentfully, “No!” He continued, “I don’t want to take care of her anymore. I want freedom! Anyone can take care of her from now on, just don’t drag me into it!” Mom told me to observe and listen more, saying it helps me understand emotions and meanings. But they jabbered a lot, and all I understood was that Liam didn’t want to talk to me anymore. It was getting hard to breathe. A row of bullet comments (danmu) suddenly popped up above Liam’s head, scrolling from right to left. [Male lead is jealous!] [His twin brother replaced him and played with the heroine all day. She didn’t realize and kept calling him Brother Liam. Our jealous puppy was so mad he dug his nails into his palms.] [The heroine is born without empathy. The male lead is using this method to make her understand his feelings.] Male lead? Heroine? What does that mean? Liam turned to leave. Uncle Miller shouted at his back, “What about Ava’s birthday party?” Liam didn’t look back. “Can’t she not tell the difference? Let Lucas go!” The comments scrolled faster. [Heroine, don’t give up on the male lead! He hasn’t gone far. Just call him and cry, and he’ll come back immediately.] [He made you a necklace! He even planned when to kiss you!] [Anyone can be a heroine these days? Mute, blind, and now an emotionless autistic girl! The devoted male lead has it tough!] [Little autistic girl, if you don’t realize it soon, your Brother Liam won’t want you anymore!] … Don’t want me anymore? Liam’s back was disappearing. Panic seized me. I wanted to chase him downstairs, but suddenly saw a car stop at my gate. Someone got out. He stood up straight, revealing a face that was a carbon copy of Liam’s. He met my gaze and smiled at me gently. I stopped. My breathing… Seemed to return to normal. 3 I have autism. I couldn’t speak until I was five. I have all the typical characteristics. No eye contact, no communication, no socializing, no empathy, weak emotions. Luckily, my parents are rich. After discovering these traits, they took me to see countless experts. They decided to build an inclusive kindergarten for me, accepting kids who couldn’t afford tuition, asking teachers to guide them to play with me, hoping I would learn to speak through daily interaction with peers. That’s where I met Liam. We first met outside the kindergarten. I chased a little girl out and snatched her lollipop. The girl cried. Her grandma scolded me in words I didn’t understand and pinched my arm. While I lay on the ground screaming, he walked by with his small backpack. He asked the grandma what happened. After understanding, he went to the convenience store next door, bought a lollipop, gave it to the girl, and apologized for me. The grandma left with the girl. Liam wanted to take me back. I didn’t move, pointing at the convenience store. Liam patted his pockets. After a while, he said, “Call me brother, and I’ll buy it for you.” I called him. And got what I wanted. He helped me, and made me speak. My parents reciprocated, showering Liam’s parents with gifts, quickly becoming friends. Not long after, Liam’s parents sent him to my house. When they arrived at the door, I was counting the railings on the balcony. I heard the conversation between Liam and Uncle Miller. “Why me? Clearly…” “Ava has autism. She needs a playmate by her side 24/7. She needs you.” “But I need you guys too!” “We owe them untold amounts for your brother’s illness. We have to repay the favor. Besides, the house is crowded now. Don’t worry, they will treat you very well.” Uncle Miller wasn’t wrong. My parents treated him very well. The room prepared for him was right next to mine. He got everything I got—new clothes, new toys. He even had a card. My parents said our allowance was managed by him. But Liam still cried the first night. I followed the sound and curiously touched the water flowing from his eyes. “I don’t like you,” he told me. “You’re just like my brother, a burden.” How could there be so much water in his eyes? I kept wiping, wiping, endlessly wiping. He finally hugged me back. My parents didn’t actually ask much of Liam, but he was stubborn. He said he wanted to make me useful. He made me call him Brother Liam. He would hold my hand all the time, teaching me when to say hello, when to say no, when to say sorry and thank you. He even acted like a tutor, assigning me tasks and giving rewards. I don’t know if my parents’ investment of money and manpower paid off, or if a couple of my wires finally connected, but under his help, I improved rapidly those years, becoming closer and closer to a normal person. And I became more and more dependent on him. My parents had connections. Liam and I were in the same class for kindergarten, elementary, and middle school. High school was a bit harder, so my parents donated a building to achieve the goal. In freshman year, I got my period in class. Because I was scared, I threw myself onto Liam. Liam pushed me away and ran to the school store to buy pads. The stain soiled my pants and his. After that day, Liam suddenly moved out of my house and went back to live with his family. I wasn’t used to it and threw a tantrum. He kept a straight face, ears red, and said, “We should keep a distance.” “No.” “Didn’t you hear what the classmates are saying?” I heard. They said I was his little wife. But I didn’t care. “Brother Liam, come home. I want to be with Brother Liam.” He looked at me with a complex expression. “Do you really want to be with…” Then he shook his head. “Forget it, you wouldn’t understand…” I don’t know what decision Liam made privately, but he suddenly changed. He managed me more and more, stricter and stricter, with more specific demands, as if trying to turn me into someone else. My mom clearly told me I could just study casually, but he insisted on my grades. He wanted me to go to A University with him. Seeing me score only two or three hundred points each time, he would get angry. He was anxious, and his anxiety infected me. I started getting irritable. Once, pushed to the edge, I threw a pencil case at him. He apologized, but didn’t change. “I know you’re tired, but if you want to be with me, you have to do these things.” My medication dosage increased. He didn’t care. If I didn’t listen, he would ignore me. I was terrified of him ignoring me. It caused physiological panic and shortness of breath. He was part of two-thirds of my life. All the rules I knew were related to him. I couldn’t imagine life without him. So I bowed my head to him again and again, until the transfer student Sarah appeared. Sarah was lively and jumpy, a huge variable in my stable relationship with Liam. She said she wanted to be friends with us and offered to help me study. But I couldn’t understand her notes. She always talked to Liam, making him laugh. She even took the reward stickers Liam bought for me. I pushed her down. Liam yelled at me for the first time. He sternly demanded I apologize to her. He was obsessed with correcting my behavior, not caring about my reasons. He yelled until I cried. I apologized because I listened to Liam. But to make amends, he gave my breakfast to Sarah. He bought water for Sarah in P.E. class. He was supposed to tutor me, but tutored Sarah instead. He even told Sarah about my autism. Sarah mocked me in the classroom. “Heard that getting you to say a sentence earns a thousand dollar reward. I talked to you so much, do you owe me tens of thousands?” “Liam says you’re obedient if given candy. Here, candy for you. Meow like a kitten for big sister?” I didn’t quite understand why she said these things, but I recognized the malice in her eyes. I threw the candy at her. Liam wanted me to apologize again. I refused. “If you don’t apologize, I won’t take you to the amusement park this weekend.” He kept a straight face. “You can’t hit people for any reason. An aggressive autistic person won’t have friends. I hope you remember this.” He didn’t seem wrong. But why did my chest feel so tight? Mom said if someone hits or scolds me, I can hit back. I yelled, “I don’t want her as a friend!” Liam roared, “Ava!” I turned and ran. I didn’t want to bow my head anymore. Mom found out about this when I got home, but she still took me to the amusement park. The sky was blue, and the balloons at the gate were pretty. I stared at the fountain in a daze. “Liam” arrived. Mom told me to call him Brother Liam. He agreed and accompanied me into the park. “Are you not angry anymore?” “Why would I be angry?” “I hit someone.” “You had a reason, right? Were you bullied?” I nodded. “Peaceful resolution is best, of course, but if not, just protect yourself…” He smiled. “I’ll handle the apologies.” He seemed a bit different. Very gentle, spoke slowly, walked slowly. Whatever I did, he looked at me with a smile. When I got my hands dirty eating cotton candy, he didn’t lecture me, just wiped my hands and praised me for eating well. I vaguely saw another identical face when I looked back once that day, but his face was livid. But “Brother Liam” was right beside me, so I didn’t mind. Turns out the one beside me that day was his brother, Lucas. 4 “Ava! Your Brother Liam is here! Come cut the cake!” Mom called me. I saw Lucas standing next to the cake with Mom, smiling at me. He wore a nice suit that made his waist look slim and legs long. The star pattern on the fabric matched his eyes perfectly. I ran down the stairs, slipped somehow, and flew forward. Lucas reached out to catch me, and I knocked him and the cake onto the floor together. Under everyone’s gaze, my eighteen-layer cake turned into a pile of smashed dough on the floor. Lucas landed on his back, and I fell on his chest. He hissed in pain but didn’t forget to shield my head with his hand, saving me from being smashed by cream. This scene happened so suddenly that the room went silent. “Ava! Apologize!” Liam’s angry face suddenly drilled into my mind. It was like a conditioned reflex. I panicked, scrambled up, hunched my shoulders, and hid behind Mom. Mom helped Lucas up. “Are you okay?” “I’m fine.” Lucas shook his head, then smiled at me. “Did it hurt, Ava?” I turned a deaf ear, staring at the shapeless cream on him, murmuring, “The first piece of cake was for Brother Liam.” Lucas realized. He bent down, picked up a piece of cake from the floor, and put it in his mouth right in front of me. “Thanks, Ava,” he smiled. “It’s delicious.” I stared at him blankly, unable to understand my emotions for a moment.

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During the hottest week of boot camp training, the “Class Beauty” decided to help everyone beat the heat with her family’s secret recipe for a “Cooling Drink.” I saw her making it. I knew the secret ingredient was 96% ABV Spirytus Vodka. Drinking that kind of high-proof alcohol in extreme heat is basically a death wish. I tried my best to stop her, urging everyone to take heatstroke medication instead. But no one listened. Even my own boyfriend thought I was just jealous and trying to steal her spotlight. Helpless, I told everyone the truth. The class was furious. Not only did they refuse the drink, but they also turned on the Class Beauty for being so reckless. She was ostracized. Unable to handle the isolation, she left a suicide note blaming everyone and ended her life. After her death, the whole class blamed me. They said I drove her to it. To avenge her, my boyfriend and the rest of the class locked me in a sweltering, unventilated basement until I died of heatstroke. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day she brought out that deadly drink. This time, I smiled brightly and gave her a thumbs up. “Wow! That cooling drink looks so refreshing!” Chapter 1 “I saw the weather forecast—it’s going to be scorching today. So I stayed up late making this special Cooling Drink for everyone!” “It’s my family’s secret recipe. I’ve been drinking it since I was a kid. No matter how hot it gets, you won’t get heatstroke if you drink this.” “It’s way better and tastier than those nasty herbal meds our dear Class Monitor bought!” Listening to Bella (Wang Yuxin) speak, I suddenly realized—I had been reborn. I was back at the start of our university’s mandatory military training (boot camp). We were hit with a rare heatwave. The news was full of stories about heatstroke and heat exhaustion, so everyone was terrified of getting sick. As the Class Monitor, I had prepared ahead of time, buying herbal supplements and electrolyte tablets for everyone. Bella, always needing to be the center of attention, stayed up all night to make her “Cooling Drink.” It looked icy and delicious, and the whole class was eager to try it. In my past life, I stopped them. I knew her “secret family recipe” was just some cocktail mix she found online. It was loaded with Spirytus—96% alcohol by volume. Drinking that under the blazing sun was a recipe for disaster. Because of me, everyone took the meds instead and got through training safely. But they were angry at Bella for trying to poison them, so they isolated her. Bella couldn’t handle being ignored. She staged a fake suicide attempt for sympathy, but it went wrong, and she actually died. She left a letter claiming the drink had no alcohol and that I made it all up out of jealousy. Even though I tried to explain, my boyfriend, Kevin (Wu Chongnan), slapped me across the face. “Would Bella use her life to frame you?!” he screamed. “We don’t want to hear your excuses. Go explain it to Bella in hell!” Remembering the despair and pain of my death, I made a decision right then and there. I wasn’t going to save these ungrateful idiots this time. Chapter 2 I pinched my thigh hard to stop myself from speaking out. Instead, I forced a smile. “Bella, this drink really looks amazing. You have to share the recipe with us sometime!” Bella looked shocked. She clearly didn’t expect me to be the first one to support her. But she quickly assumed I was just trying to play along. She rolled her eyes and scoffed lightly. “Of course! But you know, even with the same ingredients, not everyone can make it taste this good. It takes talent.” “Right, Kevin?” Kevin nodded enthusiastically, completely forgetting I was his girlfriend. He looked at me with disdain. “Exactly. Your brain is just full of books. You don’t know how to think creatively for everyone.” “All you know is buying ready-made medicine. Like we can’t afford to buy it ourselves?” In my past life, I would have argued back, hurt by his words. But this time, I just lowered my head and nodded like a fool. Bella looked disappointed that I didn’t fight back. It felt like punching cotton. But she didn’t stay mad for long. She immediately handed a cup to me, then distributed one to everyone else. In the end, there wasn’t a drop left for herself. I held the icy cup, finding it hilarious. Bella clearly knew this stuff wasn’t safe to drink. Kevin immediately snatched my cup and offered it to Bella. “Here, you drink hers. She bought her own medicine, she can take that. We can’t have you getting heatstroke!” Bella didn’t take it. She just smiled sweetly. “I drank some while making it last night, and more on the way here. If I drink any more, my body will get too cold.” Chapter 3 Kevin reluctantly shoved the cup back into my hand, muttering, “Lucky you.” I kept my silly smile and stayed silent. The others downed their drinks in huge gulps, eyes lighting up. “This is delicious! I’ve never had anything this good!” “Way better than the Monitor’s bitter medicine. That stuff is trash compared to this!” “Bella, you’re perfect! Beautiful, kind, and talented!” The drink was loaded with syrup and mint to mask the harsh alcohol taste. Plus, most of these students weren’t heavy drinkers, so they just thought it was a unique, tasty beverage. Bella noticed I was just holding my cup. She frowned and walked over. “Monitor, why aren’t you drinking?” I waved my hand. “I…” Before I could finish, Bella’s face fell. “I know you don’t like me. You think I’m just a pretty face. But this drink really works.” “You just praised it a minute ago. Was that fake too?” “I put a lot of effort into this. It’s clean, I promise! I even added extra goji berries to yours for health. Not drinking it is wasting my kindness!” I looked down. My cup did look different. The liquid was darker—she must have poured extra vodka in mine. Seeing my silence, Bella put on her best “wronged victim” face, tears welling up. Just then, the drill instructor blew his whistle. “Stop hiding in the shade! Formation! Now!” Chapter 4 The whistle saved me. But before I could relax, Bella called out in her sweetest voice, “Report! Instructor, it’s so hot today. I made cooling drinks for everyone. Can we please finish them before we start?” The instructor wasn’t strict, and Bella was pretty. Her request seemed reasonable. He nodded. “Fine, drink up quickly!” The class cheered and chugged the rest of their drinks, leaving only ice cubes. Bella turned to me. “Monitor, you’re the only one left. Drink it!” Kevin popped the lid off my cup. “Drink it! Stop targeting Bella. Not drinking it means you look down on her!” The others joined in, pressuring me. They looked ready to pry my mouth open and pour it down my throat. But I wasn’t scared. I sighed loudly. “I really want to drink it, but I’m on my period today. I can’t have anything ice-cold!” “I was holding it, waiting for the ice to melt so I could drink it at room temperature!” Bella raised an eyebrow, about to speak, but I didn’t give her the chance. I walked straight to the instructor. “Report!” “I’m having severe cramps today. I request permission to sit out.” The instructor frowned. It’s a common excuse to skip training. But when he saw my face, he couldn’t refuse. Although I wasn’t actually on my period, the trauma of dying in my past life still lingered. My face was ghostly pale. I probably looked like a walking corpse. He waved his hand. “Go, go rest. Don’t faint on me.”

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My brother is a superstar. On a family reality show, the host asked each of us to share a funny story about him. My older sister: “He bought out an entire shop just so I could get the blind box figure I wanted.” My younger sister: “He tried to send a photo to our family group chat but accidentally sent his nude pic.” My brother’s ears turned red: “Shut up!” The audience erupted in laughter. The host then turned to me: “Did you save that photo, Second Sister?” I shrugged: “No, because I’m not in the group chat.” The atmosphere turned awkward. The host quickly changed the subject: “Then he must have bought you a lot of blind boxes too.” I smiled shyly: “No, but he did give me a four-leaf clover necklace once.” The audience gasped collectively. Rich. Generous. I blinked my eyes: “It was originally a gift for my older sister, but he gave it to me to convince me to move out and live in the dorms.” “When my sister saw the necklace on me, she called me a thief.” “My dad threw me into the pool to ‘sober me up.’ Later they found out it was a misunderstanding. Funny, right?” “Huh? Why aren’t you guys laughing?” 1 The show was live. The large screen in front of us scrolled with real-time comments: [I smell tea.] [Family secrets? Shocking insider info?] [Come quick, there’s drama!] [Didn’t the superstar say he only had one older sister and one younger sister? Where did this second sister come from?] [I just checked his bio, and there really is no mention of this second sister in his family relations. What’s going on?] [Doesn’t look adopted either; she clearly looks like the mom.] The netizens were sharp. I am indeed a daughter of the Vanderbilt family. We share blood, but not much else. My parents had four children in total: one son and three daughters. I was the second to last. Our family originally lived in a small coastal town in Maine. My uncle struck it rich doing business out of state and wanted to bring my parents along. But he could only secure spots for three children in the new school district. After discussing it, my parents decided to leave me behind in the small town. They found a former colleague of my dad’s to take care of me, promising him $500 a month for living expenses. I finished middle school in that small town before coming to the Vanderbilt estate. By then, they were already living in a massive mansion in the Hamptons. I only lived at home for one semester of high school. After transferring, I chose to live in the dorms. I barely went back once a month. I almost never appeared in the same frame as my parents or siblings. It’s normal that netizens haven’t seen me. If the production crew hadn’t shown up at the door while I happened to be home, no one would have known the Vanderbilts actually had another daughter. 2 [Ahhh! This girl is my classmate! The valedictorian of North High! She just graduated this year. We only knew she was smart, didn’t know she was a rich heiress!] [North High?? A Vanderbilt kid going to North High? Are you joking?] [It’s true! She transferred from the prestigious St. Jude’s Academy.] [Huh? Why give up a mansion for a regular high school? That’s wild.] Seeing the comments dig deeper, I smiled: “Don’t misunderstand, everyone. After clearing things up, they all apologized to me.” “Our family values integrity. My dad is particularly strict about moral education. He only got rough because he cares.” “High standards for character lead to better business development, right?” “My brother asked me to live at school to foster my independence. It was for my own good.” “Besides, after the misunderstanding was resolved, my dad transferred me a huge sum as compensation.” The host immediately asked: ” reveal a specific number to broaden my horizons.” I turned to my dad: “Dad, how much was it again?” My dad didn’t bat an eye: “$20,000.” “Wow!” The audience looked envious. Dad continued: “Our family rewards the right and punishes the wrong. No nonsense. Running a business is the same…” The skepticism in the comments turned into praise: [As expected of a business mogul, principled.] [Papa Vanderbilt, how about you kick me too and give me $20k?] [Sob, I want a good brother like that too.] Amidst the flattery, the show ended successfully. My dad, looking high-spirited, actually offered me a ride home in his car. I looked at my younger sister, Chloe, who was pouting. “No thanks. Let Snowy sit there. He doesn’t like me getting close.” Snowy is the Doberman Chloe raises. Very vicious. I still have a scar on my calf from where he bit me. Mom glanced at Chloe reproachfully: “You child, you’re so spoiled. Make him move for your sister.” Chloe nuzzled the dog’s head, her eyes shooting daggers at me. “I’ll move him, but let’s see if Second Sister dares to sit.” “You,” Mom scolded her helplessly, then turned to me, “Then Ava, you can take a cab to The Banquet Hall yourself.” They had planned to go for a late-night meal after the show. But at that time, I wasn’t part of the plan. I looked at the simultaneously darkening faces of my older sister Bella and Chloe, and smiled: “I’m a bit tired, I won’t go.” Mom secretly sighed in relief but didn’t forget to complain: “You child, you just won’t warm up to us. You never participate in family activities, and then you’ll say I’m biased.” “Mom, stop it.” Liam walked over and grabbed my hand. “Come on, I’ll drive you home.” 3 Unlike her coldness toward me, Chloe leaned on the car window and repeatedly urged: “Brother, hurry up! We’ll wait for you.” I tried to pull my hand away: “I can just take a cab, no need to trouble you.” Liam didn’t let go: “You’re my sister. How is it trouble?” I raised an eyebrow in surprise. So Liam can speak human language too. Glancing at the fans secretly taking photos around us, I understood. I cooperated and got into the car, staring blankly out the window. While waiting at a red light, Liam suddenly said: “I didn’t expect you to remember that incident.” I smiled, still looking out the window. He sighed: “Anyway, thanks for today.” Rare indeed. The proud and noble top-tier idol actually thanked me. Just as I was about to tease him, my phone pinged with a notification. [Dad transferred $200,000.00 to you.] [Good performance today. Your reward.] I accepted the money and showed the chat to Liam: “Brother, how about a tangible thank-you gift?” Liam agreed readily: “I already ordered the latest four-leaf clover necklace. You’ll receive it tomorrow.” I smiled brightly: “Thanks, Brother.” Liam looked a bit unnatural: “No need to thank me. I should have given it to you long ago.” That wasn’t a lie. Sophomore year, he used a necklace to exchange for me leaving home to live at school. But he didn’t tell Bella beforehand. Seeing the necklace on me, Bella decided I was a thief. The whole family stood by her side. I couldn’t swim, but Dad kicked me into the pool to “sober me up.” I choked on water, struggling miserably. They stood on the shore, watching coldly. Luckily, Liam came back in time and fished me out. Bella pinched the necklace, looking arrogant. “I don’t care. If it was given to me, it’s mine.” Dad stuffed a few bills into my hand: “It’s just a necklace. If your sister likes it, let her have it. Go buy one yourself.” That money totaled $120. It was also the first allowance I received after returning to the Vanderbilt family. The lights outside flashed by rapidly. I narrowed my eyes: “It’s okay. Better late than never.” 4 Chloe called at least three times during the ride. Liam dropped me off at my door and left in a hurry. I took a bath. Just as I lay comfortably in bed, my phone chimed with a series of notifications. Looking at it, Bella had added me to the family group chat. [Bella: Welcome Ava. My bad, I forgot to add you before.] [Chloe: (Yawning) Actually, we don’t really talk much in this group anyway. Doesn’t matter if she’s added or not (Doge face)] [Bella: (Smile) (Smile) (Smile)] [Liam: Ava, anything you want to eat? I’ll pack it for you (Image) (Image) (Image)] A row of food photos flooded the screen, pushing Bella and Chloe’s conversation up. I wanted to refuse, but changed my mind: [Anything is fine. Thanks, Brother.] Liam replied with an OK. After that, no one spoke in the group. I opened another chat and transferred the $200,000: [Uncle Ji, the hospital in Boston is arranged. Take Brother Jing for the prosthetic eye surgery next week. I’ll come later.] The “typing…” indicator at the top flickered for a long time. Finally, only a few words came back: [Be careful. We’ll wait for you.] My nose stung, and tears rolled down. Soon. Very soon.

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