When Adrian proposed to me, everyone said it was a blessing I’d earned in a past life. But five years of his cold indifference eventually wore down every ounce of my love and passion. His first love, Serena, returned with amnesia. He was so worried about her, spending his days watching the snow and the moon with her, reliving their sweet past. Meanwhile, I was relentlessly trashed online, forced to abandon the acting career I loved. I threw a divorce agreement at him, then turned my back and left the country with my childhood best friend for a show. Who would’ve thought that the usually aloof Adrian would lose his composure, chasing after me, his eyes red, begging me to come back? When the video of Adrian saving Serena went viral, I was in the makeup room, waiting for the next scene of my TV show. In the video, Serena was clinging to Adrian, tears streaming down her face, a picture of pure misery. The comments were full of heart emojis and sympathy. “Seriously, I can’t watch this.” “After losing her memory, she finds out her beloved is already married to someone else. They’re still in love but can’t be together. Ugh, it’s literally killing me!” “If it weren’t for that witch, Skylar, would those two soulmates have been torn apart?” “Look at Mr. Adrian’s heartbroken expression, my eyes are watering like crazy, boo hoo.” “Damn! Someone needs to send this video to Skylar!” “All I can say is, true love doesn’t lie. Skylar just doesn’t get that.” Ms. Davies, my agent, stood beside me, anxious. “Why did this topic have to trend now? You finally got this supporting role based on your talent, and if it gets canceled again because of all this, no one will dare to hire you anymore…” “What if…” She stood up, frantic. “You go talk to Adrian and ask him to take these trending topics down?” I shook my head, my voice calm. “It’s no use. He won’t do anything.” Ms. Davies listened, silent for a moment, then slumped back down. She knew it, too. Adrian wouldn’t lift a finger for me. After all, there had been worse words, more vicious attacks in the past, and he never once intervened. Back then, I cherished my acting career fiercely. Those hateful words would keep me up at night, making me miserable, almost pushing me into depression. I used to hold onto foolish hope, expecting him to speak up for me, even just a single word. But what did he say? “Trending topics only last a few days. We should just live our own lives, why bother with what others say?” “I can’t use company resources for personal matters.” “Skylar, you’re an actress. Don’t be so dramatic.”

I waited another half hour in the makeup room. The director’s team arrived late, full of apologies. “Sorry, Ms. Skylar. We had some equipment issues today. How about you head home for now? We’ll let you know when we reschedule the shoot.” I nodded. “Okay.” The online trending topic had turned a deep purple, signifying peak virality. The more people pitied Serena, the more they hated me. Having been through this too many times, Ms. Davies knew exactly what it meant. This show would likely be canceled. Ms. Davies’ eyes turned red with anger. She scrolled through her phone. “How can people be so blind to the truth? You only got together with him after they broke up! Why have you had to bear all this hate for years? I refuse to believe there isn’t a single sane person online… Huh?” She stared blankly at her phone. “A major influencer just spoke up for you!” I leaned over to look. Indeed, a verified account had posted. His name was “Leo,” and his public persona was known for speaking out against injustice. “Mr. Adrian got together with Skylar *after* he broke up with Serena, right? Given Mr. Adrian’s family background, no one could force him to marry if he didn’t want to.” “Now they’ve been married for five years. Serena just has amnesia, she’s not brain-damaged. Anyone with an ounce of common sense and decency would know to keep their distance from an ex who’s married.” “In my opinion, Serena is the real homewrecker.” Leo had a lot of influence. He’d supported me more than once before, and he had a significant following. Instantly, the internet exploded into a heated debate. Ms. Davies was thrilled. “Thanks to Leo’s post, a lot of people are supporting you online now. If this keeps up… Oh, Adrian’s company just posted an official statement on Ins! Could it be Adrian himself? This is great, this is how it should be! How could he just let his own wife be trashed like this? If he speaks up for you, it’ll be better than anything…” Before she could finish her sentence, her expression froze, and the joy on her face vanished. I opened my phone. Adrian’s company had indeed posted, but not in my defense. “Ms. Serena was never the other woman. Any further false statements will be pursued legally by Adrian’s company.”

The company’s statement was a huge boost of confidence for those shipping Adrian and Serena. It silenced my supporters. Ms. Davies was disappointed but still tried to comfort me. “It’s okay,” I said, shaking my head calmly. “I knew this would be the outcome the moment Serena returned. Besides, even if she hadn’t come back, I was already planning to divorce Adrian.” Ms. Davies’ mouth dropped open in shock. “What did you say?” I knew why she was surprised. After all, I’d endured much worse online attacks in the past and never mentioned divorce. That was because back then, I still held onto hope for this marriage. The old me always thought I wasn’t doing enough. He called me dramatic, so I stopped being dramatic and made myself strong. He said I should let my talent speak for itself, so I worked hard to hone my acting skills. But countless facts over these five years had woken me up. The one who needed to change was never me. Hope had gradually turned into disappointment, and now, even the disappointment had completely faded. Of course, I should also thank Adrian. I truly wasn’t “dramatic” anymore. Even I, who used to tear up easily as a child, now felt completely unfazed by the most venomous insults.

This twisted fate of ours, between Adrian and me, began five years ago. Five years ago, my Grandpa Leo fell ill, and Adrian’s company’s medical technology introduction program saved his life. Later, as a patient’s family member, I met Adrian. I had just graduated from film school and was still a newbie. Serena was a senior from my school, having acted in a few shows that never quite hit it big, but she was a frequent topic on Ins. Some called her the “fallen heiress.” Although her mother wasn’t the legitimate wife of a big CEO, her rumored boyfriend was the heir to Adrian’s company. High-society drama tied to the entertainment industry always made for hot gossip. Later, for some unknown reason, Serena suddenly broke up with Adrian and went abroad. Soon, another man’s silhouette frequently appeared on her social media. Back then, I often delivered some home-grown organic produce from my Grandpa Leo’s garden to Adrian’s company. My grandpa was stubborn, insisting that if we received kindness, we must repay it. He was adamant that I bring him some of his pesticide-free fruits and vegetables every month. Usually, I’d just leave them with his secretary and go. But that one time, I was already in the elevator when Adrian called. “Leaving already? Want to grab a bite?” he asked. It would be a lie to say I wasn’t happy to hear that. After all, I couldn’t help but be like other young girls, adoring Adrian like a celebrity. He took over the family business at a young age and wasn’t frivolous like many trust-fund kids. What’s more, he had a cool, detached aura and that intense, unsmiling profile. At dinner, I sensed he wasn’t in a good mood. I wracked my brain, foolishly telling him jokes and even made a complete fool of myself, just wanting to make him happy. Finally, he smiled. He said, “Skylar, you have such a great personality.” After that, he started contacting me more frequently. Sometimes it was just a simple meal, sometimes we’d go see a movie I was in, sometimes we’d attend a concert. I could feel that he was quite lonely. I thought, he saved my grandpa’s life, and if my clumsy jokes could make him happy, it would be a small way of repaying that kindness. Being friends would be enough. Until one evening, he got drunk and called me. I rushed over. He was sitting alone by the river, surrounded by countless beer bottles. I tried to pull him up, but he was strong and unreasonable, pulling me into his arms. When his hot lips descended, I was completely stunned. And, unfortunately, the paparazzi captured photos of him pulling me into that embrace, and they were all over Ins the next day. I had just won a newcomer award, but I was instantly slammed as a manipulative gold-digger trying to climb the social ladder. The online attacks began, with some even suspecting I had set Adrian up, deliberately arranging for the photos to leak. I panicked and called Adrian, explaining I hadn’t done anything. He was silent for a long time on the other end of the line, then asked me one question: “Skylar, do you want to get married?”

Adrian said it was the best way to immediately stop the rumors. I stood there, stunned for a long time, until a tear dropped to the ground, and I belatedly realized something. I actually really liked him. It was just that this feeling was buried so deep, I never dared to acknowledge it. And people in love always fantasize. I foolishly believed he wanted to protect me, that he might have felt bad for me because of those rumors, and that he wanted to marry me because he liked me too. So, I agreed. But it wasn’t like that at all. Much later, after facing countless insults and rumors, I learned he married me only because Serena had gotten married abroad. He needed a replacement to force himself to forget her. He also needed to give his family elders a definitive answer to stop their constant nagging about marriage. I was well-behaved and never caused trouble. Perhaps I could even entertain him occasionally like a clown, making me the most suitable candidate. After marriage, I, completely unaware of the truth, tried my best to be a good wife, Mrs. Adrian. I tried to blend into unfamiliar circles, learning new things. Just memorizing the names and preferences of all those high-society wives often kept me up until midnight. I transformed myself into a qualified Mrs. Adrian. My clothes, makeup, speech, and manners were all impeccable. I took care of his daily life, knew his tastes and preferences, and even Adrian’s always-critical mother praised me. But apart from sleeping in the same bed, we weren’t like a real couple. He never tried to understand me, or why I, despite marrying into wealth, was so dedicated to acting. He also said he liked quiet, and even after marriage, he needed his personal space. So, I put away my lively side. If he was busy, I never bothered him, even turning down the TV volume. But later, I found out he didn’t actually like quiet. When Serena returned with amnesia, he accompanied her shopping, ice skating, to stand-up comedy shows, and even to nightclubs. He clearly didn’t mind all that excitement. He just didn’t like me. Of course, I didn’t care anymore. The old me would send a concerned message if he came home late. I continued that habit, though I no longer cared for him, it was just routine. But in the days since Serena returned, I hadn’t asked him anything.

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I discovered my wife was having an affair. Instead of confronting her, I played it cool. I didn’t expose her. In fact, I became even more doting and attentive, and far more generous with her parents. It was only later that she finally realized just how terrifying I could be. My name is Alex, and I’m a web novelist. Two years ago, I found out my wife was cheating on me. That day, I was supposed to go to New York for a web novel platform’s annual author conference. Charlotte was packing my suitcase in the bedroom, and I was in the living room when I happened to see a text message pop up on her phone: “See you tonight, babe. Room booked.” So, I secretly canceled my trip. That night, I quietly followed her and watched with my own eyes as a man put his arm around her and led her into a hotel. But I didn’t do what most men would, rushing in to fight the guy or staging a dramatic confrontation in the hotel room. All I felt was a bitter irony: my seemingly gentle and virtuous wife was also out looking for some other man. After a few days of wallowing in a motel, I pretended to return from New York. The moment I got home, I gave Charlotte a big hug. Charlotte and I had been married for six years and had a five-year-old son. My in-laws usually helped take care of him. Our life seemed perfect and harmonious. People always told me I was lucky to have such a wonderful wife. But this enviable family was about to face a massive storm. After discovering Charlotte’s infidelity, the more I looked at Leo, the less he seemed like me. Without realizing it, a terrible thought began to form in my mind. Yet, I didn’t take Leo for a DNA test. Instead, I showered him with affection. I bought him all the toys he liked, frequently took him to amusement parks, cooked him delicious meals every day, picked him up from preschool, and played games with him until we were both covered in sweat. My reasons and goals for doing all this were simple. If he was my son, he’d soon face a broken home, and my actions were just a small compensation. If he wasn’t my son, then my kindness to him was a crucial part of my revenge plan. My wife, Charlotte, wasn’t stunningly beautiful, but she was pretty and elegant with a good figure. She used to be one of my book fans, often sending me generous gifts on the novel platform. Over time, we added each other on SnapChat, and eventually, we started living together. I really liked her. She wasn’t just attractive and classy; she was also gentle and virtuous. My friends all said I must have done something truly amazing in a past life to marry her. I was secretly thrilled at first, until I discovered she’d betrayed me. What drove me crazy was that her betrayal was incredibly consistent. For the past two years, she’d been exclusively involved with one man – her direct supervisor, Daniel Sterling. If she’d been with different men, I could have called her promiscuous or sleazy. But her “loyalty” to him made me think she’d actually fallen for the guy. That morning, Charlotte reminded me it was Arthur’s birthday and asked me to buy some specialty coffee and prepare some ingredients to cook dinner at their place. I nodded in agreement. Eleanor used to run a small diner, making a living through hard work, and hadn’t saved much for retirement. Arthur had retired from a manufacturing plant; he was a factory worker, so his pension wasn’t huge, but it was enough for the two of them. That would have been fine, but as Arthur got older, he suddenly started clamoring for another son, saying that raising one grandson was the same as raising another child. Naturally, Eleanor and Charlotte strongly objected. Their reasons were the usual: societal norms, age, physical and mental energy, and financial security. Actually, I didn’t mind. After all, I was making a good income from my writing, and I wanted to help Arthur. But the problem was, his daughter was cheating on me. “Alex, have you seen this news? A woman in her sixties had IVF and gave birth to twins,” Arthur said, pointing to a news page on his computer as soon as I walked into their house. “Dad, I know about that news. I actually support you. If you want another child, go for it. I’ll always be your strong supporter.” Right then, I transferred Arthur $5,000. “Here’s some money for you to start the IVF process at the clinic. If it’s not enough later, I’ll give you more.” Ever since Charlotte’s affair, I’d been increasingly kind to Arthur and Eleanor, arguably even more so than their own daughter. Because they were indispensable pawns in my revenge plan.

Arthur’s eyes lit up when he received the money. He pulled out two bottles of his finest reserved wine, declaring we’d drink to our hearts’ content that night. As I started cooking, Arthur happily joined me, picking, washing, and chopping vegetables. I knew he truly saw me as his personal ATM this time. After Eleanor brought Leo back from preschool, I messaged Charlotte on SnapChat, asking when she’d be off work and telling her to drive carefully. Then, I arranged the cooked dishes on the table, finally placing the birthday cake in the center. In the glow of the candlelight, I looked at the familiar yet strange faces around me, a cold laugh echoing in my heart. Charlotte urged us not to drink too much, but Arthur, beaming, said he was so happy to have such a great son-in-law like Alex that he wanted to drink until he passed out tonight. Before we even finished dinner, Charlotte received a SnapChat message. She said something urgent came up at work and she had to go in for overtime, thoughtfully telling me to just sleep at her parents’ house if I drank too much. Ha. I knew exactly what Charlotte was up to. My eyes hazy from drink, I looked at her. “Honey, if you didn’t eat enough here, grab something else to eat on your way, don’t go hungry.” After Charlotte left, I received several photos and a video on my phone – all of Charlotte and that man. The first time I discovered her affair, I’d hired someone to monitor their every move. Now, my cloud drive was full of evidence of their infidelity. These would be very useful later. After Arthur passed out, I played Plants vs. Zombies with Leo for a while, then Red Light, Green Light. I made sure he drank his warm milk, then told him stories to lull him to sleep. I had spoiled him into being the little king of the house, letting him live without restraint. I had only one goal: I wanted him to be completely dependent on me. When I divorced Charlotte, I certainly wouldn’t want him. Then, I’d let Leo resent her, and watch mother and son tear each other apart. Thinking of this, I felt much lighter. I handed Leo over to Eleanor and went home. Now, my novel royalties far exceeded Charlotte’s salary. Two years ago, I used to give all my royalties to Charlotte. After discovering her affair, I only gave her a small portion, but it was still twice her salary, so she didn’t suspect anything. To be safe, I used my father’s ID to apply for another pen name, and the bulk of my royalties went into his account. Besides, the house we lived in was my pre-marital property, so it would naturally remain mine after the divorce. Therefore, my assets wouldn’t be significantly affected after the divorce. Charlotte didn’t get home until the middle of the night. A twisted urge suddenly surged through me. She had just closed the front door and hadn’t even turned on the lights when I lunged out of the darkness, embracing her and letting out a strange, cackling laugh. She thought I was staying at her parents’ house and wasn’t prepared. My sudden action scared her badly. She cursed me, calling me insane. She wasn’t wrong! I was like a lunatic now! But then again, if she hadn’t cheated, how would I have ended up like this? My mind growing darker, more twisted! After Charlotte fell asleep, I lay awake in the dark, my eyes wide open. More and more evidence, like magma secretly surging beneath the earth’s crust, accumulated, seemingly waiting for the final eruption.

Now, I went to Arthur and Eleanor’s house almost every day. First, to spend more time with Leo, making him clingier to me; second, to impress Arthur and Eleanor, laying the groundwork for the final explosion. The next day was a public holiday, but Charlotte went to work for overtime again. At the mall, I spent $40 on an action figure set for Leo. I also spent $800 on a pair of emerald bracelets for Eleanor and another $150 on two bottles of fine wine for Arthur. I didn’t feel bad spending money on them. Even though Arthur had always been somewhat opportunistic, Eleanor had always treated me well, and she helped us take care of Leo. There was a component of gratitude in spending money on her. But overall, it was still about revenge. “Alex, why did you buy so much stuff again? What’s the point of spending all this money? You two are just starting to get financially comfortable, you should save more when you’re young, you’ll need it later.” Eleanor saw me with more shopping and chided me for wasteful spending, but a hint of joy still showed in the corner of her eyes. I handed the jewelry box to Eleanor and the wine to Arthur, saying, “Dad, Mom, please don’t be so formal with me. You both work hard taking care of Leo for Charlotte and me. It’s only right for me to show my appreciation.” As I spoke, I infused my voice with deeper emotion: “You raised your daughter so well and entrusted her to me. Buying you all this is the least I can do.” “Oh, Alex, you’re such a good kid…” Eleanor was touched by my words, her eyes starting to well up. At that moment, Arthur put the wine away and walked over, grinning. “Alex cooked a fantastic dinner yesterday, so tonight, my dear wife, it’s your turn.” After Eleanor went into the kitchen, Arthur leaned in close and whispered, “I told your mother about the IVF last night. She hesitated for a long time, but she finally agreed.” Hearing this, I excitedly slapped my thigh. “That’s great news!” Arthur flinched, clearly startled by my overly enthusiastic reaction. I quickly composed myself and feigned an explanation. “Dad, I’m truly happy for you both. This way, Charlotte and I will have a little brother too.” “Yes, yes, as long as you see it that way,” Arthur said, his face full of relief. Then, he paused for a moment before saying, a little sheepishly, “I also looked into it, and I heard that the chances of having twins with IVF are higher than with natural conception.” “That’s fantastic! Who wouldn’t want twins?” Arthur and I were both elated, though for different reasons. “But if we have two boys, considering our age…” Arthur looked at me intently, a troubled expression on his face. Seeing his dilemma, I quickly declared, “Dad, that’s absolutely no problem. My novel royalties are very substantial now. Raising two younger brothers is definitely something I can handle.” Arthur nodded, satisfied with my words. After a moment, he cautiously added, “The main thing is housing… If boys don’t have houses when they grow up, it’s hard for them to find wives.” “Don’t you two worry about that. They’ll be my little brothers, and I’ll figure out the housing situation!” I looked at Arthur, my words firm and decisive. After saying that, I controlled myself, trying not to laugh. I couldn’t believe my revenge plan was progressing so smoothly. My words instantly made Arthur beam with joy. “Alex, the whole family will be counting on you from now on!” Arthur patted my shoulder. “You’re much better than my own daughter.”

A few days later, Arthur and Eleanor went for IVF… Unfortunately, it wasn’t successful. When Charlotte came home that night, I directly told her about it, suggesting we use our savings to send Arthur and Eleanor to a large hospital in the city. But to my surprise, my words completely enraged Charlotte. “Alex! Are you out of your mind? You supported them getting IVF behind my back? If they actually have kids, won’t *we* be the ones taking care of them? They’re almost sixty!” At this point, Charlotte looked at me like I was an idiot. “Alex, tell me, what are you thinking? Why are you so desperate for them to have another son? Are they your parents or my parents?!” I put my hands on Charlotte’s shoulders, patiently explaining: “Honey, Mom and Dad haven’t had it easy. They raised you, then they helped us with Leo. Now they have this longing for a son. Since we’re capable now, I just want to help them more. I’ll write a few more novels, and all these difficulties will pass.” As I said this, I sneered inwardly, but on my face, I maintained a look of thoughtful sincerity. Charlotte probably thought I was taking on all the responsibility, so she stopped objecting. She looked at me, unsure what to say. I knew this was almost a done deal! The house was my pre-marital property, and most of my royalties were already transferred to my dad’s account. Now I just wanted to get rid of all the money Charlotte had! The thought of her being left with nothing after leaving me made my heart sing. “But if Mom and Dad have children, besides the living, medical, and education expenses, what about housing?” Charlotte finally brought up the crucial point. “Honey, I’ve already discussed this with Dad. I’ll buy the kids a house. A long-form novel I wrote two years ago is currently in the process of signing a film and TV rights deal. Let alone one house, there’ll be enough money for two then,” I said, patting Charlotte’s shoulder, completely making things up. “Film and TV rights are worth that much?” Charlotte’s eyes lit up. I smiled and nodded. Seeing me nod, Charlotte finally smiled.

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I stayed because of a single sentence from Seraphina after my mission was complete. But three years into our marriage, her heart changed. The system told me I was here *for* Seraphina. The moment she no longer needed me, I would be forced to leave this world. Later, The system asked me how I wanted to die. I said, “On the overpass where we first met.” What I never expected was that the person who hit me would be her, too. The accident report, Perhaps my last “gift” to her. The day I found out Seraphina’s heart had changed was on the night of our third wedding anniversary. I’d specially cooked her favorite Honey-Glazed Salmon with Roasted Asparagus. It was then I learned that a table full of warm home-cooked dishes could turn stone cold in just three hours. I waited from eight o’clock until eleven that night. All I got was a dismissive SnapChat reply from Seraphina. “Something came up at the office. Won’t be home tonight.” I only replied: “What kind of thing?” She sent a voice message back. “You wouldn’t understand office stuff, so can you please stop acting like some clingy, jealous husband, always prying and asking questions?” Her tone was irritable, full of impatience. And a hint of entitlement. She sounded like she had a point. I’d promised to take care of the home after we married, and it probably made me seem out of touch with today’s society. All I saw around me were the mundane trivialities of daily life. Everyone envied me for being a kept man at such a young age. My wife was beautiful, and she was willing to support us. But they forgot that in the company’s early days, I was the one who helped Seraphina build it up, step by step. I was the one who drank so much I got a stomach hemorrhage, and I was the one who ended up in the hospital. It should have been a real power couple setup, a win-win for both of us. But because of one sentence from Seraphina, I willingly stepped back to be the man behind her success. “My Ash, will you take care of me from now on? I don’t want a cold, empty house. You cook so well, will you cook for me for the rest of my life, please?” Back then, our love was passionate. She clung to me, whispering sweet nothings. She looked utterly devoted to me. *Home* – what a beautiful word. Because of that sentence, I chose to stay in this world and spend my life with my girl. But she broke her promise. Somewhere along the way, the “home” we talked about became a joke, just for me. She started coming home late, and her attitude towards me worsened daily. Sometimes, she even brought back the smell of another man’s cigarette smoke. A woman’s love, or lack thereof, is brutally obvious. She no longer snuggled into my arms, sweetly calling me “My Ash.” She grew cold, speaking sharply, using my full name as if I were a servant, telling me to do this and that. I wasn’t an idiot. I could clearly see her coldness. But I refused to believe the woman who’d once promised to build a home with me would change her heart. Then, the long-absent system voice in my head shattered my last illusion.

[Target subject Seraphina Thorne has changed her heart. Host’s existence has become an emotional burden. You will soon be forced to leave this world.] “Not annihilation?” I blinked, surprised by the system’s mercy. After all, in my memory, it had always been utterly ruthless. [Host has one hour to choose your method of death. Do not waste time.] Hearing that cold, mechanical voice in my head, I surprisingly felt a flicker of warmth after so long. No expectations, no pain. I stood up, looking at the untouched meal, and in a fit of bitter defiance, dumped it all into the trash. Then I opened my phone and started scrolling through Ins. When I saw that intimate photo, a sharp, familiar pain still bloomed deep inside me. Seraphina’s strange behavior tonight now had the most logical explanation. Blake Sterling was back in the country. The playboy who once considered Seraphina a mere bet had returned. And Seraphina’s absence tonight was simply to welcome Blake Sterling back. They were celebrating in a private room. And Seraphina was looking at Blake Sterling, who stood in the center of the crowd, her eyes sparkling like stars. My fingers trembled as they grazed over those radiant eyes in the photo; I almost dropped my phone. My vision blurred, but my heart swelled with a frustrating helplessness. Had she forgotten Blake Sterling’s past cruelty? I had thought my arrival could change Seraphina’s fate, but now it seemed I was just deluding myself. The system had told me Seraphina was supposed to be the main character of a dark romance novel, a real tear-jerker. But because readers deeply resented the male lead, Blake Sterling, A gentle man was needed to save her. Someone who wouldn’t be with an arrogant, disrespectful man. And so, I appeared in Seraphina’s world. Just like her, I entered the elite private school as a scholarship student. When Seraphina was targeted by other girls, I would purposefully raise my voice and warn them that the dean was coming, making the bullies back off. When Seraphina was used as a bet by those rich kids, I risked Blake Sterling’s retaliation to personally hand her the recording. That was the first time I saw Seraphina cry. She cried and asked me *why*. At the time, I thought Seraphina was asking me why I was so good to her. But looking at that photo on Ins, that “why” sounded more like an accusation towards me. An accusation for shattering her few precious dreams. Blake Sterling’s pursuit had given the overlooked Seraphina some of the only attention she’d ever received. But I had ruined it for her. The realization hit me, and I laughed and cried at the same time, finally understanding that her gradual coldness over the years was nothing more than her revenge against me.

From a timid girl to the capable CEO she was today, I had watched her grow, step by step. The first warm pumpkin spice latte of autumn, the first roasted chestnut of winter – these few small moments of warmth left me like a drowning man grasping at straws, desperately searching for traces of Seraphina’s love in the tiniest things. [System, Seraphina loved me once, she just doesn’t anymore, right?] I humbly sought an answer from the system. [Host, you have forty minutes left.] The system’s evasiveness made me feel like a stray, utterly lost and pathetic. It was ridiculous. I wiped the tears from my face and called Seraphina. She rejected the call. But I was persistent, calling more than twenty times. Finally, she decided to acknowledge me. “Asher Hayes, are you *annoying*? Didn’t I say I was busy?” Through her impatient voice, I heard the raucous celebration of a bar, followed by an unfamiliar yet familiar male voice. “Sera, who is it? Is it your spouse checking in on you?” His tone was flirtatious, laced with casual indifference. Like it was just an idle question. “No, Asher and I… our relationship is just, you know. Just a temporary arrangement, a practical partnership.” Her voice grew flustered, as if she was worried Blake Sterling would ignore her. “Oh, if the passion’s gone, then just cut ties, right? I seem to recall you and Blake having some unfinished business back in the day.” Someone started to egg them on, shouting, “Get together! Get together!” I don’t know how Seraphina faced those taunts. All I had, Was the cold silence after the call disconnected. My hands and feet were icy. I slid down the wall to the floor, asking the system in my head in a hoarse voice: “As a strategist, was I a complete failure? I couldn’t save Seraphina, and instead, I sacrificed myself.” The system was silent for a long time. It seemed unable to bear my miserable state and finally spoke the only somewhat human-sounding sentence. [Host, this merely indicates a strong attraction between the male and female leads. Furthermore, you have taught the female lead self-reliance and confidence. Even if she ends up with the male lead, she will not fall into the passive situation of the original plot. After your death, I will send you back to your original world.] While comforting me, it still didn’t forget to urge me to die quickly. To have the system care about me before I died, It was a pretty new feeling.

I put on my coat and grabbed my car keys, heading out. The late autumn night carried a biting chill. The streetlights behind me flickered on, their dim yellow glow offering no warmth. I stood on the path, originally intending to go to the beach, but suddenly changed my mind. Within moments, I arrived at the place where Seraphina and I first met. The overpass was bustling with traffic, like this busy society, full of diverse people and situations that always made one feel out of place. When I first arrived, I hadn’t even fully registered my transmigration when I was thrown into a panic by the girl crying her eyes out in front of me. In real life, I wasn’t good with words. Seeing the girl’s pathetic state, I couldn’t help but offer her a tissue. She snatched it awkwardly, her back to me, curled into a ball, not speaking. After the system’s introduction, I realized that this tear-stained mess of a girl was the person I needed to save. The legendary protagonist of a dark romance novel, a real tear-jerker. Her mother died when she was three, and her father was sentenced to ten years in prison for theft when she was seven. She worked hard to get into an elite private school but unexpectedly met Blake Sterling due to a bet. After a series of events like campus bullying, being mistaken for the other woman, pregnancy and miscarriage, divorce, and remarriage, she would live happily ever after with the male lead. Hearing this, my face was a mask of utter disbelief, completely speechless. My mission was to make the female lead self-loving and independent, no longer living for a heartless man. In this world, my family background was the same as in my real world. No parents, no one to rely on. Looking at the silently sobbing girl, and remembering how she would later debase herself for a man, I couldn’t resist poking her shoulder. “Hey, don’t do anything foolish. There’s always hope in life.” It was cheesy advice, but I’d always comforted myself with it when facing a failed grad school application, a public service job slot being stolen, or being laid off from a company. As long as you’re alive, there’s always a way out. But my words seemed to infuriate the girl. A rare flash of annoyance crossed her face. “What do you know? You have no idea how exhausting my life is!” Perhaps because I was a complete stranger, she poured out all her teenage troubles to me. I knew she didn’t need my comfort. She was just too overwhelmed and needed someone to vent to. I listened silently, offering her a bottle of water when she got thirsty. We talked from dawn till dusk, and the resentment on Seraphina’s face gradually faded, her expression softening. “I’m sorry for wasting so much of your time listening to my rambling.” She stood up, brushed the dust off her skirt, waved to me, and shouted cheerfully, “Kind stranger, until we meet again!” She was vibrant and full of life, not at all the emaciated person described in the later parts of the novel. I suddenly felt that the mission the system had given me truly had meaning.

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For nine years, after we got married, Scarlett Hayes had an endless stream of admirers. She reveled in having young, impressionable guys fall head over heels for her. I pretended to be understanding and tolerant, letting her enjoy herself. We maintained this unspoken understanding for nine years. Until I was strong enough, I walked away without a second glance. That night, Scarlett smashed everything in the house, grabbing my collar and screaming: “So, all these years, you never loved me!” Love? No. What I truly loved, what I truly wanted, was power and wealth. Nothing else. I was experimenting with a new way to brew tea when the doorbell rang late one evening. Slipping on my house shoes, I went to open it. A drunken Scarlett stumbled straight into me. Behind her, the young man supporting her stepped forward, smiling. “Julian,” he chirped, “Ms. Hayes had too much to drink, so I brought her home.” The guy, Leo Stone, was young, vibrant, and his smile radiated sunshine, utterly devoid of any aggression. He was Scarlett’s standard “boy toy” type. I gently pushed Scarlett back into his arms, my voice even. “There are fresh pajamas in the bottom drawer of the closet. Feel free to pick any style you like.” I paused, then added, “I’m a light sleeper. Keep the noise down tonight.” Leo probably hadn’t expected me to be so… magnanimous, in the face of his affair with my wife. His eyes widened, and his words came out in a stutter. “J-J-Julian, I’m not staying the night—” He carefully helped Scarlett onto the sofa, his movements gentle, full of affection. Then, he flashed a shy smile at me. “Julian, thanks for taking care of Ms. Hayes.” He deliberately stressed the word ‘thanks,’ acting like he was the one in charge. It was almost comical. I found myself mildly amused. The young man’s attempt to stake his claim was rather clumsy. “When it comes to taking care of people, our housekeeper is far more adept.” Leo’s face fell, and he went silent. I couldn’t be bothered to say more. After seeing him out, I turned back to the kitchen. “He’s just a kid brother. Why are you getting so worked up?” Scarlett’s voice drifted from behind me, without a hint of the drunken slur she’d had earlier. She walked up, wrapping her arms around me from behind. “Don’t worry, he won’t threaten your position.” I calmly poured out the tea from my cup, offering no reply. Scarlett always loved to bring up “position” when she was around me. As if that word alone. Should make me wag my tail, begging for her favor, eternally grateful for being her husband. But that position, I *did* care about it. Not because I loved her. But because of the advantages it brought me.

At the dinner table, Scarlett, still reeking of alcohol, leaned into me. “Leo just graduated. I’m thinking of making him my assistant.” That actually surprised me a little. Over the years, men had come and gone in her life. The longest any of them lasted was three months. Scarlett was naturally fickle, always chasing novelty. She usually hated getting entangled, yet she was willing to keep Leo close. It seemed she genuinely liked this “boy toy.” I lowered my gaze, asking calmly, “Do you need me to arrange anything for him?” Scarlett lifted her eyelids, glancing at me, a teasing smirk on her lips. “So generous? What if he tries to push you out and become the Hayes family’s son-in-law?” I replied, expressionless, “Whatever you wish. Anything is fine.” “Julian, stop it. I’m not in the mood to coddle you right now.” As she spoke, Scarlett looked languid, her eyelids slightly drooped. As if she was certain I was just acting jealous and speaking in a huff. Seeing my silence, Scarlett slowly sat up straight. “Are you serious?” I was a little confused. “Don’t you just want me to be obedient and sensible? “If he wants my position, I’ll let him have it. Isn’t that good?” The soothing soup I’d prepared for her stomach was suddenly thrown to the floor. She erupted in a sudden fit of rage. “Julian Blackwood, what the hell are you doing?” Soup and ceramic shards scattered everywhere. I paused, my gaze shifting from the mess on the floor to her face. “Is there something you’re unhappy with?” The next second, my chin was grasped tightly in her hand. Scarlett looked down at me, every word bitten out through clenched teeth. “Leo won’t affect your status. Don’t play games with me.” “Julian Blackwood, stay in your place as the Hayes family’s son-in-law.”

Scarlett stormed out, probably to find Leo. Not long after, she sent me a SnapChat message. “Julian Blackwood, once you’ve reflected enough, come apologize to me.” I stared blankly at the shattered ceramic, my mind drifting back to the past. After high school graduation, Scarlett had cautiously shuffled closer to me. Just so she could be nearer in the photo. There was only a shoulder’s width between us. But I could feel the fiery, intense crush of a teenage girl back then. The summer wind carried a lingering heat from the day. Close to her, my chest felt warm. Even now, I remember. The sparkle and exhilaration in Scarlett’s eyes when I accepted her confession. She said she’d be the most perfect girlfriend in the world. That she’d treat me well forever. Wrapped in a young girl’s sincere, passionate love, I naturally believed her. I didn’t doubt her sincerity, but sincerity is fleeting. In college, I started working and building my own business. Most of my time was dedicated to academics and my ventures. Despite this, I still prepared plenty of surprises for every date. The emotional support and validation she needed were always there. But Scarlett was still dissatisfied. She wanted me to spend more time traveling and exploring with her. Yet years of relentless academic grind had been too tough; I couldn’t afford a single misstep. We started fighting frequently. Until the business I built collapsed due to cutthroat competition. That day, Scarlett accompanied me to close down the shop. All the way there, she seemed unusually excited. “I told you not to bother. Just settle down and be the Hayes family’s son-in-law after graduation.” A compliant, thoughtless machine—that was the future she envisioned for me. Like a kept man, existing solely for her pleasure and command. “I have nothing to reflect on.” Scarlett seemed to have been waiting for my reply. Almost the instant my message went out, she replied. “Julian Blackwood, I’m waiting for the day you come begging me.”

Our wedding anniversary was at the end of the month. We had already planned to celebrate it with a formal dinner. In reality, this was no simple party. With prominent business figures attending, it was a crucial opportunity for Hayes Group. In the past two years, with rapid digital advancement, even leading corporations were feeling the impact. Hayes Group, having lagged in innovation, was hit the hardest. I had worked day and night with my team to develop new products. We were just waiting for this banquet to officially launch them. This was Hayes Group’s best chance to attract investment and support. At this critical juncture. Neither internal affairs nor potential investors could tolerate any mishap. I repeatedly emphasized to Scarlett that she absolutely could not miss it. Because Hayes Group needed to not only demonstrate the commercial value of its new products. But also project an image of a united and harmonious front between its CEO and her husband to the observing partners. Only then could we avoid any scandal impacting the stock market. But Scarlett seemed to think this occasion was just like any other. A mere show, something to be done whenever. So, when Leo faked an illness and begged her to keep him company, she didn’t hesitate. I also knew full well. There was another reason she agreed. She wanted to teach me a lesson, a payback for making her unhappy that day. I stared numbly at the countless unanswered calls on my phone. The partner next to me already looked extremely displeased. Around me, eyes full of amusement studied me. It was then that a message popped up on my phone. “Julian, Ms. Hayes is with me.” The next second, a photo flashed across the grand screen at the banquet. The two in the picture were intimately posed. Scarlett leaned on Leo’s shoulder, her lipstick smudged, cheeks flushed. Just one photo. That single photo. The carefully cultivated image of a perfect, harmonious marriage was instantly shattered, revealing its cracks. No one would bet their money on a new product that could implode at any moment. The surrounding murmurs were too loud. So loud that my mind buzzed, and I couldn’t hear anything clearly. The dazzling lights overhead, the clinking of glasses, the mocking laughter echoed, one after another. For a moment, I couldn’t even tell if I was dreaming or awake. It wasn’t until deep into the night. When scattered stars twinkled, that the guests began to disperse, one by one.

In the dead of night, a heavy rain began to fall. When Scarlett arrived at the hotel, the banquet had long since ended. She found me sitting expressionless amidst the wreckage on the floor. “Julian—” I heard her voice and slowly lifted my head, my eyes hollow. “Are you satisfied now?” “Everything’s ruined. All the team’s efforts, down the drain.” “Ms. Hayes, are you satisfied with this lesson?” Scarlett’s face paled at my words, her voice trembling slightly. “Julian, I didn’t know this banquet was so important. “Why did you make me unhappy that day? I just wanted you to admit you were wrong—” Scarlett’s voice grew softer and softer, until it completely faded. I stared at the wine glass by my feet. The leftover red wine reflected the hazy overhead lights, making me dizzy. “Scarlett.” My emotions gradually steadied, followed by a profound weariness. “Nine years, you played around for nine years, and I never thought of leaving you. “I always thought you just hadn’t grown up, that you were still childish. “But today, you publicly humiliated me, made all my efforts for you utterly useless—” I slipped off my wedding ring and placed it in Scarlett’s hand. “Scarlett, let’s get a divorce.” Hearing that, Scarlett actually laughed. “Is this your ultimate goal? “I thought, a mere new product launch, why would you be so distraught? “Turns out you just want to threaten me into settling down for you.” Ah, the spoiled rich girl, raised with endless indulgence. Sometimes, her stupidity was truly laughable. “Julian Blackwood, you’ll always be the Hayes family’s son-in-law. Stay in your place.” Scarlett had no patience. Her breath, light and ticklish, grazed my ear. “It’s fine to make a fuss sometimes, but overdoing it makes people dislike you.” “Leo poses no threat to your position.” Scarlett picked up the ring and put it back on my finger. Even now, she still believed I was just making a scene. I took the ring off again, twirled it between my fingers in front of her, then loosened my grip. The ring spun in the air, landing on the floor with a crisp clink. “This isn’t a game of playing hard to get, as you seem to think.” “Scarlett.” I looked up at her. “Let’s get a divorce.”

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My sister gave up studying to work in a factory, all for a man. In my past life, I became a billionaire because of that very man. She wanted to copy me, but ended up getting sold for marriage money instead. She never anticipated that this life, we’d have a little brother. “Our family is poor. We can only afford to send one of you to college. You two draw lots to decide.” Dad held two wooden sticks, his face etched with what looked like pain. “Whoever draws the shorter stick gets to continue their studies. Lily, you’re the younger sister, you go first!” This familiar scene hit me like a ton of bricks. I had been reborn! My gaze locked onto the wooden sticks, fragments of memories flashing through my mind. The terror as my sister pushed me down, the agonizing pain when I hit the ground. But my thoughts quickly snapped back to the moment of decision in my previous life. Last time, I chose the stick on the right. From that day on, my schooling ended. Yet, my grades were far better than Blair’s. I had even been accepted into the city’s top high school, known for its incredible college acceptance rates. Blair’s grades? Even if she pushed herself to the limit in high school, she’d be lucky to get into a mid-level university. Given our family’s poverty, letting me continue my education was clearly the most beneficial path for everyone. But my parents, for some reason, chose to decide with a draw. Because they favored Blair! I’d always known it, so even getting the chance to draw felt like a small victory. Since childhood, they’d buy Blair new clothes, but never me. Every time, they’d say, “Blair’s clothes are too small for her, but they’re perfect for you. Buying you new clothes would just be a waste of money.” As the second child, and a girl at that, I had always been on the receiving end of their coldness. Blair was their first, the fruit of their love, so they loved her. As for me? Grandma had wanted a grandson, so they risked financial strain to have a second child. But in the end, they got me, another girl. My birth cost the family thousands of dollars in unexpected expenses! Grandma despised me, and that resentment extended to Mom too. So, after I was born, Mom had a really tough recovery period. She couldn’t hate Grandma, or Dad. She could only resent me. She felt it was all my fault. In those days, a second child was a significant financial burden, and a third even more so. They couldn’t afford to try for a third child, hoping for a son! So, they believed I had blocked their path to having a son. They saw me as bad luck. Mom wanted to name me “Superfluous.” Grandma said to name me “Short-Lived,” hoping I’d die young. If I died, they could have another child, and it would still be considered their second, avoiding the even higher costs of a third. In the end, Dad was afraid the villagers would laugh, so my name became something mundane, signifying my insignificant existence.

My sister’s name was Blair, because they hoped her future would be bright and successful, with every road leading to prosperity. In my past life, after middle school, I followed other villagers to a clothing factory. At fifteen, most legitimate factories wouldn’t hire me, and the pay was pitiful. I often worked night shifts, at least 12 hours a day. Most of my meager monthly wages had to be sent home for Blair’s schooling. That first month at the factory, I didn’t even have money to buy a blanket. My parents had only paid for my bus fare, nothing else. Thankfully, the southern summer was scorching, and I barely made it until my first paycheck. My life only started to improve when I began dating the factory owner’s son. Later, riding the e-commerce boom, the factory made tens of millions, and I became a wealthy woman. Blair, though she eventually got into a mid-level university, found that as life improved and more people graduated, her degree wasn’t as valuable. The moment Blair got into college was the most glorious in her past life. After graduation, she discovered that finding a job was hard, and the pay wasn’t good. Later, Blair married her college boyfriend, Mark. They both worked in his hometown’s small town, earning a combined total of just over $5,000 a month. Money problems poisoned their marriage, and their conflicts grew. Meanwhile, every time I came home, I drove a luxury car, carrying bags full of expensive gifts. Blair’s heart twisted with resentment. After Mark cheated on her, she finally snapped, blaming everything on me. 2 Blair’s face was contorted with rage as she pushed me. “How dare you be so rich! You, who never even went to college, how dare you live a more glamorous life than me? Just die!” In my panic, I instinctively pulled her down with me. We both fell off the cliff. My thoughts snapped back to the present. My eyes were fixed on the left wooden stick. Last life, I chose the right stick and missed out on school. This life, I’m choosing the left! This time, I’ll be the one who gets to go to school! Suppressing my excitement, I quickly pulled out the left stick, a thrill surging through me. “Dad! My stick is short…” My words died in my throat as Dad opened his hand. But the result, once again, defied my expectations… The stick in Dad’s hand was visibly shorter than mine. His voice was just as regretful as last time. “Lily, it seems your luck isn’t good. You picked the long one. The chance to study will have to go to your sister. From now on, work hard and earn money for your sister’s tuition! When Blair makes something of herself, she can help you out.” How was this possible?! I snatched both sticks, disbelief flooding me. Last life, I chose the right one, and it was long. This life, I chose the left one, and it was *still* long. Staring at the two sticks for several long minutes, everything finally clicked into place. Anger and betrayal surged through my chest! No wonder they insisted I go first this time. They had already made their choice. No matter what I picked, Blair was destined to be the one to go to school! Because they could snap off the longer stick at any time! Just like they were snapping my wings, keeping me forever trapped in their grasp. They had fabricated this charade of a fair choice, forcing me to swallow my resentment, to work and pay for Blair’s education. They would drink my blood while mocking my bad luck. In my past life, no matter how hard I worked, I never blamed them for not letting me go to school. Because *I* had chosen that stick. I didn’t blame my fate; I just worked harder. But now… I saw Mom visibly relax after Dad announced the result. They exchanged a quick, knowing glance, their eyes gleaming with the triumph of a successful scheme. I was just too young and naive in my past life to see it. Suddenly, nothing else seemed to matter. Fine. If I can’t go to school, I can’t go to school. With my past life’s experience, making money this time around will be easy. But before I could even fully process it, Blair rushed forward, frantic.

“No! Let Lily go to school! *I’ll* go to work!” Blair’s eyes shone with uncontrollable joy and excitement. She clutched Dad’s arm so tightly his shirt nearly ripped. “Don’t be ridiculous!” Mom snapped at Blair, her brows furrowed in displeasure, shooting her sister meaningful glances. “What future do you have if you don’t study? You’ll just end up working in a factory, earning meager wages, and never amount to anything!” I gave a bitter laugh. So, Mom knew all along. But last life, when I was chosen to go to the factory, all they said was: “Lily, your sister needs to study hard. It’s so much better for you to be out earning money!” Blair looked at Mom, disagreeing, her gaze sweeping over me, a calculating glint in her eyes. “Mom, studying isn’t that useful anymore. There are so many college graduates now; their degrees aren’t worth much. It’s better to go out and work early, then marry a rich man. A woman’s ultimate success depends on who she marries! If I go to work, with my looks, who knows? Maybe I’ll end up with the boss’s son! Then I’ll be the boss’s wife!” The moment Blair said this, I knew she had been reborn too. But her words sounded nothing like a teenage girl. Dad’s brows knitted together in a frown. “You’re too young. What do you know?” Mom continued to persuade her: “Blair, you shouldn’t say such things. There’s a big difference between having a degree and not. With a degree, you can marry someone from the city, and your in-laws will look up to you.” The more she spoke, the more sarcastic I felt. “Mom! By the time I finish college, I’ll be older. Rich men prefer younger women!” Blair retorted anxiously. Mom seemed to find some truth in what she said, but she still thought Blair was too impulsive. “Are you really decided? You don’t want to go?” “Yes!” Blair’s tone was firm. She walked over to me, a smirk playing on her lips. “Alright, if you don’t want to study, then you two sisters can go work in the factory together. At least you’ll have company!” Mom declared. “What?!” I couldn’t sit still anymore! When Blair was studying, I couldn’t. Now she wasn’t studying, and I *still* couldn’t. No matter how you sliced it, they just didn’t want to spend any more money on me. I was about to argue, but Blair cut me off and solved the problem herself. She said, with feigned sincerity: “Mom, Lily still needs to go to school. Our family needs to produce at least one college student, otherwise, the villagers will laugh at us!” At Blair’s suggestion, Mom and Dad finally agreed to let me continue my education. However, her situation was completely different from mine in the past life. Last life, when I left home, they said: “Don’t cause trouble out there. Be patient with everything, don’t waste money, and transfer your wages back as soon as you get them.” But for Blair, Mom and Dad gave her thousands of dollars, terrified she’d be uncomfortable away from home. “Take this money. Buy anything you need, don’t skimp on yourself. Don’t worry about home. Spend your own money on whatever you want!” Then they turned to me: “Your sister gave up her chance to study for you. When you get into college, you must never forget your sister. She is your benefactor!” I remained silent. I had already given up on these biased parents. This life, I wouldn’t spend another dime on them! “Alright, alright, I get it!” Blair said impatiently. The next day, Blair left for the factory in the southern city with some other villagers. As she was leaving, she suddenly leaned in and whispered to me: “This life, it’s my turn to be the rich lady!” I pretended not to understand, lowering my gaze and fawning over her: “Oh, Sister, I’m sure you’ll be a rich lady.” Blair saw no unusual reaction on my face, snorted dismissively, and left. But in less than three months, Blair came running back.

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My Sicilian crime boss boyfriend, Dante Volkov, and I had been together for ten years. I shielded him from blades ninety-nine times. On the hundredth time, he was finally moved. He decided to go straight and immigrate to the US to marry me. But on the day we were supposed to leave, he suddenly tore up the immigration papers. He wanted to stay with that woman who always timidly clung to his side, Willow. One of his men cautiously asked: “What about Sera?” “Didn’t you two agree to go to the US and start fresh, under new identities, after you went straight?” It was as if he’d just remembered, he slowly flicked ash from his cigarette, saying casually: “So what? Her life belongs to me.” “Without me, she would have been torn apart by rivals long ago. She’ll come around once she knows I’ve changed my mind. She’ll have no choice but to stay.” My nails dug deep into my palms, barely stopping myself from crying. That night, I destroyed all the secret codes and signals related to him, as if I had never known him. I didn’t stop my plans to immigrate. He didn’t know. I had walked through a decade of blood and chaos with him, But going straight, going overseas, was the only path I had chosen for myself to survive. He used to be my whole world, but now, I didn’t want him anymore.

One of his men saw me to the car, asking my destination several times, but I didn’t hear him. I remembered earlier, how I had excitedly gone to Dante, lunchbox in hand, ready to tell him our flight was booked. Instead, I overheard his conversation with Leo, his subordinate. “Are you really not going to the US, boss? What about Sera?” Dante glanced at him lazily. “Go subtly hint at it.” “What if Sera ignores me?” The tip of his cigarette glowed on and off; he flicked the ash impatiently. “A woman who constantly worries about my safety, who even personally makes me something as simple as porridge – how could she bear to miss your hint?” “A woman like Sera, I just have to beckon, and she’ll come running.” As he spoke, he couldn’t help but chuckle. Leo joked: “Boss, you’re amazing. You can even train a woman like Sera to be like a puppy. You should teach me your dating skills.” Dante crossed his long legs, his impatience growing. “A woman like Sera is too much drama. If you date someone like that, you’ll have hell to pay.” I looked at the two blisters on my hand from the scorching rice cooker and couldn’t help but laugh out loud. He rubbed the old-fashioned lighter in his hand, his expression somewhat strained. “Leo, Willow’s condition requires very specific care, resources for which aren’t easily found in the US. If I leave, she’ll be all alone. I can’t bear to abandon her.” In that instant, I felt like I’d fallen into an ice cavern. I turned off my phone, the flight information still on the screen, and walked away. It took me a while to find my voice again. “Take me home.” Volkov Enterprises’ towering headquarters sped past the car window, but my heart felt like it was still back there. In my mind, I made countless excuses for him: it was just a trick to fool his men, to keep our travel plans secret and avoid rivals. I locked myself in my room for four days straight. I blocked all of his men’s contacts, pretending nothing had happened. He hadn’t come home either. Until today, when Dante suddenly asked me to meet him at the cigar lounge where we first met. I thought, I had shielded him from the indiscriminate blades a hundred times; if he would just be honest, I would forgive him. After following him through life-and-death situations for ten years, I wasn’t ready to let go. The cigar lounge was filled with the scent of various tobaccos. When I realized something was wrong, a man in a black coat had been staring at me for a long time, the cold gleam of a blade flickering from his sleeve. It was only thanks to my hundred experiences with injury and a strong survival instinct that I managed to escape alive. When I staggered back to Dante’s office door, clutching my bleeding right arm, I saw my crime boss boyfriend sitting behind his desk, allowing Willow to playfully mess with him. He was smiling gently as she pulled at his meticulously tailored black suit. His long, well-defined fingers lovingly stroked Willow’s hair. Outside, blades flashed and blood stained the streets, but inside, it was peaceful and tender. The girl’s face was flushed with an unnatural color. “Dante, I’m scared. You gave up going to the US for me. Is it really worth it?” “If Sera finds out, will she hate me?” she whimpered, her voice shaky with worry. Unable to take it anymore, I twisted the doorknob, intending to storm in and confront him. Dante’s voice, nonchalant yet chillingly cruel, was colder than snow: “Sera? She’s just an accountant for my family. What difference does it make where she goes? She’ll still be crunching numbers.” “Willow, your health isn’t good. The US doesn’t have the specific resources for your treatment. How could I bear to leave you here alone?” I froze, my heart feeling as if a dagger had been plunged straight through it, a cold wind sweeping through my limbs, making me tremble with pain. Watching Dante bring the cigarette to Willow’s lips, a wave of nausea suddenly rose in my stomach.

I first met Dante at that cigar lounge. I’d once asked him for a cigarette. He flicked his expensive lighter, the flame dancing between his fingers. He gave me a nonchalant glance, pulled one from his pocket, and handed it to me. I held it, smiling as I leaned toward his fingers. “Lend me a light.” Watching the smoke curl from my lips, he chuckled, then took the cigarette from my mouth, took a drag himself. Through the haze of smoke, he asked, “What’s your name?” At the time, I was just a young accountant. I had no idea what price this impulsive attraction would demand, nor did I know that question would lead to a hundred scars on my body. Later, he considered sharing a cigarette to be a form of foreplay. When we were lost in those intimate moments, he’d hold me on his lap, kissing me deeply, nicotine acting as the perfect aphrodisiac. But that was actually my first time smoking. I hated tobacco, but because it was him, I was willing to endure it. Willow’s delicate cough pulled me back to reality. She was choking, her face flushed, coughing so hard she couldn’t stand straight. “Willow, how can you be my woman if you can’t even handle a little smoke?” Dante’s eyes were full of tenderness and amusement, completely devoid of any coldness or anger. What was this? What I saw as unique and irreplaceable, Dante offered casually to anyone. What I painstakingly strove for and couldn’t attain, Willow received effortlessly. Watching Willow’s playful, pouting antics, I suddenly felt that this never-equal relationship could finally end. On my way home, I received a call from the airline. “Mr. Volkov’s flight information hasn’t been confirmed yet. Ms. Sera, do you plan to board alone?” I didn’t hesitate. “Yes.” Dante and his men all believed that I had been with him through thick and thin for ten years, loved him for ten years, and could never leave him. But they didn’t know that going straight and moving to the US wasn’t just about starting over with him. I had two other, non-negotiable reasons to go. Since he had already made his choice, embarking on a different path from me, why should I insist on walking with him? That night, a strong pair of arms pulled me into a hard, warm embrace. “Sera, I had a document to sign this evening. You… you didn’t wait too long, did you?” Seeing I didn’t speak, he sighed, lifting his hand to trace my lips. “Baby, I knew you wouldn’t have the patience to wait for me.” “The first time I saw you, I knew you weren’t the easy-going type, you were impulsive.” He leaned closer, his unique scent filling my nostrils. I couldn’t take it anymore and pushed him away. “Were you there? How do you know I didn’t wait?” I turned on the light, revealing the still-bleeding scar on my arm. “Dante, this is the 101st scar I’ve gotten because of you.” He glanced at it, the tenderness in his eyes fading as he explained, exasperated: “I received intel, and I was actually planning to come find you, but Willow arrived. I couldn’t let them know about Willow’s existence; her body is weak, she couldn’t handle an assassination attempt.” “So I *could* handle it, is that what you’re saying?” That man today was clearly well-prepared. Your movements were leaked, and to protect the pure happiness of the girl you loved, I was the one who paid the price. “Do you have any idea, if Leo hadn’t arrived today, I would have lost an arm there!” He froze, clearly not expecting me to lash out at him. His voice turned cold. “Sera, that’s enough.” “You’ve already shielded me from a hundred assassination attempts, and you’re perfectly fine, aren’t you?” His shamelessness left me speechless.

Dante once said that Willow was like a pristine jasmine in the mountains, different from people like us who live by the blade. As the Volkov family’s accountant, I knew too many things that couldn’t be discussed openly. Constantly by Dante’s side, dangers were countless, and injuries were commonplace. I shielded Dante from blades, and gradually, I shielded Willow from blades too. My scars healed, only to be replaced by new ones. The longest scar stretched from my waist to my shoulder. Dante was finally moved by me and promised to get engaged. “As a Sicilian crime boss, I am absolutely loyal to my family and my woman. Willow isn’t a threat to you. Why are you being so dramatic?” “Dante, do we even *have* a family?” He frowned in annoyance. “Sera, isn’t our engagement party next month? What are you playing at?” He seemed to have forgotten that the prerequisite for our engagement was him going straight and moving to the US with me. “Me playing? Dante, you must have forgotten…” The phone rang abruptly, a sweet female voice coming from the receiver. “Big Brother Dante, I can’t sleep.” Dante slowly lifted his eyes to look at me, then gently coaxed her. I scoffed and got out of bed. But he hung up the phone and grabbed my arm. “Where are you going?” I shook his hand off. “Can you even keep track?” His face darkened further, his cold eyes sweeping over me. “Don’t forget the family gathering tomorrow night.” The sprawling Volkov family’s annual gathering. In previous years, I had always been by his side. Unwilling to stay with him, I turned and went into the guest room, locking the door. At the greedy, power-hungry event, Dante was an hour late. Leaving me alone to face the predatory Volkov family elders. After following Dante for ten years, no matter how outstanding my abilities, I was never truly accepted by them. Instead, because I held so many of Volkov Enterprises’ secret ledgers, I was viewed with deep suspicion. Under the spotlight, Dante held Willow’s hand. Her white dress was blindingly bright. Among a sea of somber black, Willow was the only clear, bright jasmine. Looking at my own dull black evening gown, I remembered Dante’s words. “Sera, don’t wear white anymore.” Only later did I understand: white made blood visible, and only black, which disguised wounds, would make him feel safe letting me shield him from blades. Willow saw me, first freezing slightly, then nervously hiding behind Dante. “Sister Sera, please don’t misunderstand. Big Brother Dante just felt sorry that I haven’t seen much of the world, so he brought me. I didn’t mean to be an eyesore.” I couldn’t help but scoff softly. “If you know you’re an eyesore, then stay out of my sight.” Willow immediately cowered behind Dante, tears welling in her eyes. “Big Brother Dante, I knew Sister Sera would mind. Maybe I should just leave?” She said she would leave, but her legs made no move. Dante gave me a cold glance, his brows furrowed with impatience. “My family is not yours to control.” He sat down with Willow in front of all the elders, completely disregarding my situation. Numerous suspicious and malicious gazes turned to me. My heart grew cold, and I stood up with my bag to leave. As I passed Willow, she suddenly “slipped,” and a cup of scalding hot water crashed to the floor. In an instant, shards of glass mixed with hot water splashed onto my ankle. Willow frantically crouched down, anxiously reaching out to touch my ankle. “Sister Sera, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to.” Sharp pain shot through me. “Get lost.” I lifted my foot, intending to walk away, but before I could even touch her, she shrieked and fell to the floor. Dante immediately grabbed my wrist, his voice burning with anger. “Sera! Haven’t you caused enough trouble?!” Trouble? I looked at him, deeply disappointed. This act was so clumsy; I couldn’t believe he, who constantly navigated the murky waters of both legal and illegal worlds, couldn’t see through it. “Apologize or kneel, choose one.” I was incredulous. I forcefully yanked my arm away. “What if I choose neither?” Before Dante could speak, an elder behind him immediately chimed in, “Sera, you’ve been with Dante for so many years, don’t you understand the rules? When you’re wrong, you apologize.” “Are we supposed to beg you?” I looked at Dante, foolishly still hoping he would say a few words in my defense. I had been with him for ten years, risked my life dozens of times, yet I couldn’t earn a single good word from him within his family. Willow had only been here for a year, and with a few drops of her tears, I was being criticized and insulted by everyone. Why?

I turned and strode out of the banquet. My heart felt like it was being fiercely squeezed, a sharp pain radiating through me. I shamefully recalled the first time Dante had publicly rebuked me for Willow. Dante’s office had a resting room specifically for me, filled with our personal belongings. One afternoon, I went to rest and found him fresh out of the shower, toweling his damp hair. And Willow emerged from the bedroom, wearing my sexy silk negligee. That negligee was Dante’s favorite. Anger surged through me, and I lashed out at her. Dante watched me with a faint smile, not offering a single explanation, shielding Willow behind him. “Sister Sera, I spilled coffee on my clothes, and Big Brother Dante brought me here to change. Nothing happened between us…” I slapped Willow, then looked at Dante. “Aren’t you going to explain?” His expression turned cold. He looked at Willow, who was crying and running out, then roughly grabbed my arm and dragged me out. He made me apologize to Willow in front of everyone. Because of this, the authority I had painstakingly built up within the family was completely ruined, turning me into a joke among his men. Afterward, when he finally explained, it was just a light, dismissive remark: “Willow is sensitive. If you don’t apologize, how will she be able to stay by my side?” “And nothing really happened between us.” I dared not dig deeper into whether nothing had happened or if nothing *had time* to happen. I was too deeply immersed in the illusion of tenderness he could create. Now, looking back, perhaps it was just my own stubborn refusal to give up. Unwilling to admit my failure; my career and love life all became a joke because of Willow. When I got home, before I could even turn on the light, I saw the glowing tip of a cigarette in the darkness on the sofa. I frowned, my first act was to open a window for ventilation. I used to find him incredibly captivating when he smoked; now, the scent made me sick. I tried to ignore him. But he pulled me into his arms, and I clumsily landed on his lap, forced to face him. “Sera, can you stop making a scene about Willow in public? She’s just a clumsy young woman, not a threat to you.” I looked at him flatly. “No, I can’t.” He stared at me, his face darker. “My men manage all aspects of the family’s operations, legal and illegal. Your endless drama just makes me feel exhausted, you know that?” I said seriously, “If you’re tired, then let’s end it.” I had loved him genuinely; even now, confronting him defiantly, I still found his features handsome and sharp, just as they were when I first met him. And my love for him was genuinely gone. Once enough disappointment accumulated, my heart no longer stirred for him. After a long pause, he avoided my gaze, pulled out his lighter, and fretfully rubbed it back and forth. “Sera, let’s both calm down.” I got up and walked into the bedroom, hearing the click of his lighter and the igniting of tobacco behind me. Dante said, “What Leo, my man, told you, think about it carefully. Don’t… wander off aimlessly these days.” I scoffed internally. He thought I’d understood his hint, that I’d seen he tore up the papers and would inevitably compromise and stay, just as I had countless times before. Leo had hinted, but did I *have* to understand? That day, I had managed to hack into the family’s network and discovered a chilling piece of information—a hit order from the Volkov family elders against me. They believed I might betray them at any moment and wanted to eliminate me quickly. Dante had suppressed this hit order, which meant he clearly knew that if I stayed, I would be facing hell. Yet, he still tore up the papers. For Willow, he disregarded my safety. Perhaps this relationship was never worth it. No matter how unwilling I was to let go, it was time to move on completely. After packing my bags, the suitcase was light. I only took simple clothes and documents, leaving everything else behind. This included all the limited-edition bags and jewelry Dante had given me over the years, which I had no intention of taking. Just as I was about to head to the airport, I realized I was missing one crucial item.

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My name is Lucia Weaver, and my husband Jonathan Wilson suffers from oligospermia. To have children, we’ve undergone six IVF procedures over the five years since our marriage. This time, after I accompanied him through two hours of videos, he finally managed to produce one healthy sperm. I thought we’d finally succeed in getting pregnant, but on the day of my IVF procedure, he secretly gave his sperm to his first love, Emily Fisher. I was told that my sixth IVF attempt had failed, while Emily posted a pregnancy photo on Instagram, openly thanking Jonathan. 【Thank you Jonathan for providing the perfect sperm. I’m successfully pregnant.】 Our mutual friends commented: 【I always said if you can’t have kids, it’s definitely the woman’s problem. If Jonathan had switched partners earlier, he’d already have a son.】 Jonathan replied with a smug emoji: 【My sperm deserves someone with excellent genes like Emily!】 I quietly liked the post and commented: 【Wishing you both happiness.】 Then I immediately contacted a lawyer to draft divorce papers. A man who’s been tainted isn’t worth holding onto. ***** Right after I posted my comment, Jonathan called me. His tone was arrogant, and he started by scolding me: “Lucia, Emily’s already going through enough with IVF. You’re both women—can’t you be a little kinder? Delete that comment right now and apologize to Emily! “My sperm, my choice. Who are you to act all passive-aggressive about it? How embarrassing!” I smiled bitterly, looking down at my stomach and thighs covered in needle marks and bruises, and my body weight that had ballooned from the medications. So he did know that IVF was hard on women. But I’d gone through it six times, and he’d never shown me an ounce of sympathy. Five years of marriage, all because of his oligospermia. To fulfill his mother’s wish for a grandchild and his own desire to be a father, I endured six IVF cycles despite the toll on my body. This time, when we finally had one healthy sperm, he secretly switched the sample on the day of my procedure, all to fulfill Emily’s wish for an “unmarried pregnancy.” He’d rather let me endure the pain of another failed attempt. I had clearly told him that the doctor said this might be my last chance. IVF success rates naturally decline with each attempt, and after consecutive failures, my body was already at its breaking point. Yet he still chose Emily. Right after the doctor announced my failed procedure, he immediately reposted Emily’s Instagram story with the caption 【I’m finally going to be a ‘father.’】 That joy was palpable even through the screen. It reminded me of the disgusted expression on his face every time he had to provide samples at the hospital. “Lucia, aren’t you being annoying? I’m a human being, not a breeding machine.” “You drag me to the hospital every month. Do you know how much this hurts my pride as a man? Sure, I have oligospermia, but have you ever considered that maybe you’re the problem?” My heart felt like it was being twisted by a blade. All my years of compromise and accommodation now seemed like a joke. Like a balloon being popped, I felt only bone-deep exhaustion. I said, “Jonathan, let’s get divorced.”

After hanging up the phone, I sat motionless on the bed, staring blankly for what felt like an eternity. My mind went completely blank, as if I wasn’t thinking about anything at all. But when I finally snapped back to reality, I realized tears had already silently streamed down my face, soaking my collar. I heard movement at the door and looked up to see Jonathan walking in with a dark expression, immediately launching into an angry tirade: “Lucia, when will you stop? You keep bringing up divorce every single day…” But when he saw the profound sadness on my face, his voice suddenly cut off as if someone had grabbed his throat, and his expression changed. He awkwardly approached and kissed my cheek: “Alright, I admit I didn’t think this through, but Emily and I really have nothing going on.” It had been so long since he’d kissed me. Ever since I started trying to conceive, I’d gained fifty pounds, and my face had broken out in constant acne due to hormonal imbalances. After I became fat and ugly, he never kissed me again. I’d even seen posts he’d made online: 【My wife is fat and covered in acne, I literally can’t bring myself to kiss her. What should I do?】 【I’m even physically repulsed when we’re intimate. How do I get through this whole trying-to-conceive phase?】 Even just remembering those words still made my chest tighten with a bitter, aching pain. Jonathan asked, “Where did you put my tie?” “Left closet, third drawer,” I answered automatically. These past few years, my life had revolved around nothing but trying to get pregnant and taking care of Jonathan’s every need. Hearing my response, a slight smile crossed his face: “I knew it—you don’t really want a divorce.” He seemed relieved and started rummaging around the room again: “Where are those baby supplies you bought before? Find them for me, I’ll take them over to Emily later. “And those pregnancy guides you put together—send me a copy so I can forward them to her for reference. “Oh, and you’re free tomorrow, right? Go with Emily to her prenatal appointment. You’ve been to so many hospitals, you’ll definitely know your way around better than she does. “Also, make sure you take a cab there tomorrow. Emily’s still early in her pregnancy—if she trips or falls and has a miscarriage, that would be terrible. You need to be extra, extra careful.” In all our years of marriage, I never knew he could be this thoughtful and considerate. I let out a soft laugh, tears welling in my eyes—not because of Jonathan, but for myself. How had I managed to live such a miserable life all these years? I took a deep breath, turned to look at Jonathan, and spoke with calm, detached clarity: “Jonathan, when I said divorce, I meant it.” Jonathan’s expression froze instantly. In less than a second, he angrily whipped his tie at my face. Though the tie was soft, it still stung my cheek. He roared, “Lucia, you’ve gone too far! Haven’t you had enough? Is it really necessary to keep harping on this? “From the moment I walked in, you’ve been giving me attitude. I kissed you, I held you—what more do you want? “Emily is my good friend, and she’s having a baby. Forget one sperm—if she wanted me to sleep with her, I’d be willing.” After his furious, incoherent rant, he threw out one final line: “You need to do some serious soul-searching. I’m not coming home tonight. I’m going to Emily’s.” Watching his hurried retreat, I felt surprisingly calm. Maybe this was the difference between how he loved others and how he loved me. Jonathan indeed didn’t come home all night. I was already used to this kind of thing. For Jonathan, Emily was his safe haven where he could vent his troubles. They could chat about skiing, working out, street dancing. Now they had another topic—parenting tips. A whole night probably wasn’t even enough time for them to talk. Sure enough, after staying up all night, I opened my phone to see Emily’s latest Instagram update: [Thanks to my good friends for celebrating my baby’s two-week birthday.] The photo showed not just Jonathan, but his entire crew of street dancing friends. Emily’s comment section was flooded with messages from this group. Russel Brown: [Jonathan, you’re such a jerk for getting first dibs on being Emily’s baby’s daddy!] Simon Martin: [Right? Just thinking about Emily’s kid calling Jonathan ‘daddy’ makes me sick.] David Harrison: [No worries, when Emily has her second kid, I’m first in line.] Then Jonathan chimed in: [I’m a graduate student, I play guitar, I can street dance, and I’ve got both brains and emotional intelligence. Of course Emily chose me. You guys can’t compete with me.] Russel immediately fired back: [Aren’t you afraid your wife will find out and break your legs?] Simon followed up with mockery: [Jonathan, why don’t you just get divorced already and focus on raising Emily’s kid? Didn’t you always complain that your wife smells bad and is ugly and disgusting?] Even though I’d already made up my mind about divorce, seeing Jonathan’s friends publicly humiliate me on Instagram still sent a sharp pain through my chest. From dating to marriage, his street dancing crew had never liked me. At first, I tried to fit in with them, but watching them play kissing games and dance intimately in public—I just couldn’t accept their loose values. Finally, one time when they played truth or dare and forced Jonathan to kiss Emily, I lost it on the spot. From then on, they openly insulted me on Instagram, saying I was ugly and bad-tempered, unlike Emily who was beautiful, had a great body, and was easy to get along with. After a few unpleasant encounters with them, I stopped going altogether. But I never forced Jonathan to cut ties with them either. Even when they occasionally attacked me on Instagram, I kept quiet and endured it. Now that my marriage with Jonathan was dead in name only, I didn’t need to consider anyone’s feelings anymore. I immediately replied in Emily’s Instagram comments: [I don’t know what smell I supposedly have, but I definitely smell something fishy. If you can’t smell it, try checking your armpits. [We’re getting divorced anyway, so you can’t control me anymore. Stop dragging your feet—it’s ridiculous.] After posting that, I shared the divorce papers my lawyer had drafted overnight on Instagram with the caption: [Jonathan, sign these so I can help you and Emily get what you want.]

As soon as I posted my message, Emily left a comment under my post: [I’m sorry, Lucia. I never thought you’d be so upset about me carrying Jonathan’s baby. Don’t worry, I’ll go get an abortion later today.] Right after Emily’s comment, Jonathan’s call came through. The almost synchronized timing left me with no doubt—they must have been lying in the same bed to coordinate so perfectly. I didn’t answer Jonathan’s call. But within seconds, my parents and even Jonathan’s parents started calling one after another. I still didn’t pick up. What I didn’t expect was that Jonathan’s father, Nathan Wilson, would directly attack my parents in the family group chat. [Esther, how did you raise your daughter? Does she have any sense of responsibility in marriage? Fighting over every little thing and demanding divorce—absolutely no manners.] [Poor people really have no class. Jonathan is so unlucky to have married a wife like Lucia.] Looking at these familiar accusations, I took several deep breaths to suppress my rage before grabbing my phone and firing back at Nathan: [You’re right, my parents didn’t raise me well—that’s why I was stupid enough to come to your house and take care of an idiot.] [By the way, you’d better get to the hospital. Your grandson’s real mother is about to have an abortion. If you’re any later, your precious grandson will be gone.] After sending that message, I texted my mom Esther Weaver and my dad Dave Weaver: [Coming home tonight. I’ll explain everything then.] After finishing all this, I collapsed onto the sofa. Only then did I notice my fingers were trembling as they tapped the phone screen. What followed was a dense, aching pain in my chest. Four years of marriage—this relationship I’d poured everything into and fought so hard to maintain had now become a disgusting pile of filth. Just as I was fighting back tears, Jonathan burst through the door. He completely ignored how pale and weak I looked slumped on the sofa, walked straight over, and grabbed my hand. “Lucia, you’re coming to the hospital with me right now. Do you realize that Emily wants to get an abortion because of your tantrum?” “Do you know how much effort Emily put into getting pregnant? How many shots she has to take every day? I’m not asking you to be a good person—just stop being so vicious and destroying an innocent life.” Hearing Jonathan’s words, bitterness instantly flooded my heart. So he’d always known—known how painful and difficult IVF was. But Emily only did it once, and he was already heartbroken for her. While I had gone through it six times. I suppressed the rage churning in my chest and calmly pulled my hand free. “Jonathan, if you came back to discuss divorce, we can sit down and talk. But if you want me to beg Emily not to abort the baby, sorry—I won’t do it.” Jonathan’s expression changed immediately. “What gives you the right to refuse? If it weren’t for you, why would Emily be going to the hospital for an abortion?” “I’m telling you, today you’re going whether you like it or not!” With that, he crouched down, untied his necktie, bound my hands with it, then hoisted me over his shoulder and headed for the door. In his rush, he even slammed my head hard against the doorframe as we went through. The stinging pain accompanied tears as they slid down from my eyes. Throughout the entire ordeal, I didn’t make a sound or struggle. Not until Jonathan hoisted me up and shoved me into the car, driving me all the way to the hospital entrance. The moment we appeared, Jonathan’s friend Cole Garrett immediately lashed out: “Lucia, are you out of your mind? If you’re really sick, go to a mental hospital. What the hell are you doing spouting nonsense in mine and Emily’s Instagram comments? Do you know that because of you, Emily has been crying since this morning and even says she wants to abort the baby?” Simon chimed in: “Lucia, if you want to be a bitter woman, go ahead, but why blame others? I’ve never seen such a disgusting woman in my entire life.” Russel also urged: “Jonathan, what are you waiting for? Hurry up and bring Lucia over here to make her kneel and apologize to Emily!” Listening to their accusations, Jonathan’s expression grew darker and darker. He suddenly shoved me forward, his tone vicious: “What are you waiting for? Hurry up and apologize to Emily! I’m telling you, if Emily doesn’t forgive you and doesn’t give up on aborting the baby, I will never let you off easy.” Jonathan pushed me hard, and I fell heavily to the ground, my knees instantly bleeding with hot droplets. As I clutched my leg, unable to get up for a long time, Emily came over with red eyes: “What are you doing? How can you be so rough with Lucia? She’s just petty and can’t accept that I’m pregnant with Jonathan’s child for the moment. But even if she’s wrong, you can’t treat her like this.” Hearing Emily’s words, Jonathan immediately glared at me angrily: “Emily, don’t you dare speak up for her. The way she humiliated you on Instagram, she deserves to be taught a lesson. It’s my child, and I have the right to decide whether it stays or goes.” Listening to Jonathan’s words, I braced my hands against the ground and slowly stood up. Taking a deep breath and suppressing unprecedented rage, I suddenly slapped him hard across the face: “Jonathan, this slap is payment for the six IVF procedures I endured for you over these four years.”

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The Allen family, Washington’s most prominent dynasty, saw their heir Anthony Allen accidentally poisoned, and he mistook me for the antidote. A month later, during my medical checkup, I discovered I was pregnant. When Anthony learned about this, he offered me fifty million dollars to carry the child to term, plus an additional ten million to purchase custody rights. However, my sanctimonious friend Eleanor Davis urged me to terminate the pregnancy. She said, “Money means nothing—it’s just material wealth. If you ruin your reputation for sixty million dollars, how are you any different from those escort girls in bars?” In my previous life, I listened to Eleanor and underwent the procedure. I even took Anthony to court, charging him with assault. Later, when my parents fell seriously ill, I turned to Eleanor for financial help. She slapped me hard across the face and said, “As my best friend, your parents are sick and you come begging to me? How shameless.” Eleanor cut ties with me on the spot, and the court ultimately ruled against me. In the end, without money for treatment, my parents died in agony. Devastated by losing them, I jumped from a rooftop. When I opened my eyes again, I found myself back on the day Eleanor convinced me to have the abortion. ***** Eleanor shouted at me, “Natalie, if you take this money, how are you any different from a prostitute? “These wealthy men love toying with young girls. If you agree to this, you’re helping evil people do evil things. “You won’t take his money, right?” Natalie Morris—that’s my name. I stared wide-eyed at Eleanor, her face flushed red with anger in front of her spaghetti. Then I looked at Anthony standing nearby, holding a fifty-million-dollar check. That’s when it hit me—I had been reborn. I was back on the day I discovered my pregnancy. Seeing my silence, Eleanor grew visibly anxious. She took my arm and patiently urged, “Money means nothing—it’s just material wealth. “If you ruin your reputation for a mere fifty million dollars, how are you any different from those escort girls in bars? “This child absolutely cannot stay. It’s nothing but trouble that will ruin your entire life. “We may be poor, but poor people have dignity too. We must never bow down to evil.” Eleanor straightened her back, her eyes resolute, as if she were the embodiment of justice. But looking at her performance, I felt nothing but disgust. This time, I wouldn’t let her have her way. I coldly withdrew my hand and naturally took the check from Anthony. I said, “Don’t worry. I won’t tell anyone about this. Once the child is born, I’ll hand it over to you.” My family was poor. Since school, if not for my good grades earning me scholarships, I couldn’t have afforded education at all. Now that I was already pregnant, what was the point of being pretentious? That was fifty million dollars. I could work my entire life and never earn that much. Anyone who wouldn’t want this money would be a fool. After hearing my words, Anthony seemed relieved. But Eleanor, standing beside us, went crazy and demanded, “Natalie, what are you thinking? “How can you agree to carry this child? “What you should do is come with me to the police station to file a report, then terminate the pregnancy. “You need to make these bad people pay the price they deserve.” Listening to her ranting, I found it incredibly annoying. I said, “My parents are still hauling bricks at construction sites. My family is extremely poor. One child can bring fifty million dollars. Why wouldn’t I make that trade?” Eleanor’s eyes widened in disbelief as she stared at me. She said, “Noble people love money too, but they earn it through legal, proper means. If your parents knew about this, they’d be ashamed of you and disown you as their daughter. “Not only that, you’ll corrupt society’s moral fabric. No matter how poor we are, we must never sell our souls.” This time, her seemingly reasonable words wouldn’t fool me anymore. I smiled as I put the check in my bag, then said coldly, “That’s none of your concern.” If I had taken this check in my previous life, I wouldn’t have ended up losing my loved ones and living in misery. In this life, I wouldn’t be so foolish as to let her manipulate me again.

After Anthony handed me the $50 million check, he added, “Once you give birth to the child, I’ll transfer the remaining $10 million to your bank account.” I nodded readily. Rich people sure are straightforward. In my past life, I listened to Eleanor’s advice and spread this matter far and wide. Everyone was talking about it, and we even took Anthony to court. As a result, because there was evidence that he had lost his rationality after being drugged, Anthony didn’t go to prison. Instead, I ended up spending all of my family’s meager savings on legal fees. So much so that later, when my parents fell ill, I couldn’t come up with a single cent. Upon hearing Anthony’s words, Eleanor crossed her arms. She said disdainfully, “Anthony, let me tell you something. Don’t think that just because you’re the heir to the Allen family, Washington’s most prominent family, us poor people will bow down to you. “Natalie is just confused for the moment. As long as I’m by her side watching over her, I can definitely guide her back to the right path.” Listening to her seemingly righteous words, I found them utterly ridiculous. If I hadn’t witnessed her disgusting behavior of sucking up to rich people after my death in my previous life, I might have still believed her words. Anthony knew we had taken a taxi here, so he offered to give us a ride. I was about to readily agree when Eleanor started her act again. She said, “Even though our family is poor and can’t afford a car, we’re people with dignity. We absolutely will not ride in you rich people’s cars.” Eleanor lifted her chin slightly, her eyes filled with self-righteous arrogance. She continued, “Don’t think that having money means you can do whatever you want. We poor people have dignity too.” As soon as Eleanor finished speaking, I said impatiently, “Alright. Thank you, Mr. Allen. It’s too late now to catch a taxi easily. Please give me a ride home.” Taking a taxi would cost money. Besides, I’d never ridden in a Rolls-Royce in my entire life. What’s wrong with experiencing it once? Hearing my words, Eleanor grabbed my arm forcefully. She said, “Natalie, what are you saying? We may be poor, but we need to have dignity! Are you really going to be dazzled by a luxury car so easily?” Looking at her expression of heartbreak and anxiety for me, I felt nauseated. At this point, Anthony had already opened the car door for me. I flashed Eleanor a brilliant smile and said, “Yes, I am dazzled by the luxury car. So I’ll take the luxury car and leave first.” With that, I got into the car. Through the car window, Eleanor looked at me with red-rimmed eyes. She asked pitifully, “Natalie, are you going to leave me here all alone? What am I supposed to do?” I glanced at her coldly. “Don’t you have dignity?” Seeing Eleanor reach for the car door handle, I quickly added, “You absolutely must not get in the car. “If you get in the luxury car, you’ll lose your dignity.” Eleanor was speechless, her face looking terrible. Anthony instructed the driver, “Let’s go.” Through the car’s rearview mirror, I watched Eleanor standing alone in the cold wind, looking like a fool being blown around. When I got out of the car, Anthony, concerned about the child in my belly, even helped steady me. After getting out, I turned around and went straight upstairs. The first thing I did after getting upstairs was to look at what Anthony’s check looked like. I’d never seen a check in my life. But as soon as I got home, I discovered the check was missing.

I searched through my bag for a long time but couldn’t find the check. Suddenly, I remembered that Eleanor had touched my bag before I left. I quickly called her, but her phone was turned off. I immediately went downstairs, hailed a cab, and headed straight to her apartment building. No one was home, so I had to wait outside. Before long, Eleanor came back, soaking wet. When she saw me, she immediately sneered. “I thought after riding in Mr. Allen’s luxury car, you’d be so immersed in that lavish lifestyle that you’d never come back to reality.” “Let me tell you, Natalie, being a rich man’s wife isn’t as easy as you think. Hanging around with those wealthy people will only get you bullied in the end.” “How did I never notice you had no backbone? You’d sell your body for a little money?” “But lucky for you, you have me. I’ll set you on the right path and show you what real dignity and integrity look like.” I wasn’t in the mood for her nonsense and walked straight up to her. “Is that check with you?” Eleanor’s expression flickered, but she quickly regained her composure. “What check? That check wasn’t meant for me, so why would it be with me?” I knew Eleanor too well—I could tell immediately she was lying. I pulled out my phone, pretending to call the police. “Alright. My check is missing, probably stolen. I guess I’ll report it to the police.” As soon as I said that, she frantically grabbed my phone. “Why would you call the police over something so trivial? You shouldn’t have taken that check in the first place. Do you know what the consequences will be? You’re only hurting yourself.” I scoffed. All I knew was that without this check, I’d have to watch my loved one die. I held out my hand: “Give me the check, or I’m calling the police.” Eleanor’s lie was exposed, but she didn’t even blush. Instead, she said loudly, “Do you really think I secretly took the check for money?” I raised an eyebrow: “What else?” Eleanor deliberately put on a disappointed expression. “Natalie, I’m afraid you’re going down the wrong path. Even if we’re poor, we can’t lose our dignity. In this life, dignity and integrity are more important than anything else.” “If you sell your body for money, what’s the difference between you and a soulless corpse? We…” Before she could finish, I reached directly into her coat pocket. Eleanor frantically clutched the check, not letting me take it. “Natalie, all you care about is money. If I don’t save you, you’ll stay confused forever.” Eleanor suddenly used force and tore the check to pieces. “Without the check, maybe your head will clear up a bit. You can’t lose your moral bottom line for money.” After tearing up the check, a flash of smugness crossed her eyes. She thought that by destroying the check, I’d be out of options. Unfortunately, she was wrong. From that day on, Eleanor called or texted me daily, urging me to get an abortion. Besides being busy trying to convince me to have the procedure, she was busy with something else. She was crafting a noble image on Instagram, specifically blocking me from seeing it. How did I know? Anthony told me and even sent me screenshots of the content. Eleanor kept telling me to stay away from Anthony, yet she secretly followed Anthony’s Instagram account under the guise of being “my good friend.” After that, Eleanor’s Instagram was basically filled with photos of her working hard at her job. The captions were all positive energy messages. [Even if I’m poor and tired, I absolutely cannot lose my dignity. We must create our future with our own hands and never bow down to evil people.] [Keep going! I want to be a woman who controls her own life and is independent and strong.] Anthony sent me another video—security footage. In the surveillance video, Eleanor was waiting outside Anthony’s company. After waiting for a long time, she finally saw Anthony come downstairs. As she walked over, she twisted her ankle in her high heels and fell into Anthony’s arms. Then she said in a stern tone: “Don’t think you can buy me off with money just because I’m Natalie’s good friend. Let me tell you, even though we’re poor, we have dignity. We won’t sell our dignity for money!” Anthony looked at her like she was an idiot for a few seconds, then said coldly: “Security.” Watching this, I burst out laughing. A week later, Anthony came to my house to see me. Eleanor somehow got wind of this and immediately rushed over to my place. The moment she walked through the door, she started shouting hysterically, spittle flying everywhere. She said, “Natalie, haven’t you come to your senses yet? This child absolutely cannot be kept. He’s nothing but a continuation of sin, a curse. If you keep this up, I really can’t be friends with you anymore. Everyone will be ashamed of you.” When I ignored her, she walked over to Anthony. She smiled and used her old trick again—leaning sideways and throwing herself into Anthony’s arms. I didn’t miss the smugness in her eyes. Anthony stepped aside, and Eleanor fell straight to the floor, wincing in pain. But she immediately put on a pitiful act, looking up with tears welling in her eyes without letting them fall. She said, “Don’t worry. Even though my family is poor, even though you’re Anthony, I would never extort you over such a minor injury. I may be poor, but I have dignity.” Anthony looked down at her with ice-cold indifference. He said, “My lawyer is very good at handling extortion cases. Would you like to try?” Eleanor’s face stiffened, and she awkwardly got to her feet. Then she immediately rushed to my side, saying, “Natalie, you must never accept charity from others. Otherwise, you’ll have no dignity left. The most important things in life are your reputation and backbone. Even if we’re poor, we must have pride. I’ve already made you a doctor’s appointment. You have to trust me.” I’d heard these words too many times before. I nodded dismissively and showed her out. Over the following period, Eleanor tried every trick in the book. She kept urging me to get an abortion while simultaneously crafting her noble image in front of Anthony. One day, while I was packing, I received a call from Eleanor. She said, “Natalie, don’t you realize your mistake yet? When are you going to get that abortion? I’ll go with you.” I replied, “No need. I’m going abroad.” Hearing this, Eleanor started making wild assumptions again. She said, “I get it. You’re worried about staying in America because the Allen family might come after you, so you want to go abroad for the abortion, right?” I said dismissively, “Yes.” Eleanor was thrilled: “That’s wonderful, Natalie. We poor people should have backbone and not be controlled by those rich folks. When you come back, I’ll help you find the best lawyer and take that bastard Anthony to court.” I could hear the excitement in her voice. But what she didn’t know was that I was going abroad to take care of my health. Soon, with Anthony’s arrangements, I left America. Abroad, aside from taking care of my health, I just ate, slept, and rested. Days passed by. I successfully gave birth to a baby girl abroad. And the $60 million was successfully transferred to my bank account. After handing the child over to the Allen family’s people, I prepared to return to America to see my parents. A few days after returning to America, Anthony found me again. He said the nanny suggested that children should bond closely with their mothers from an early age. Then he took me to the mall to buy baby supplies. As we were leaving the store, I received a text from Eleanor: [Natalie, when are you coming back to America? I’ve already found you a lawyer. I guarantee that bastard Anthony will spend the rest of his life in prison.] I ignored Eleanor. But by sheer coincidence, we ran into her right after that. She was arm-in-arm with a pot-bellied man, her other hand carrying several bags with designer logos. Seeing us, Eleanor looked panicked and immediately approached. Her gaze darted between me, Anthony, and the baby stroller we were pushing. Then Eleanor rushed forward and frantically grabbed my neck, demanding, “Natalie, didn’t you get an abortion? Tell me, where did this child come from?”

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I was reborn on the day my husband Matthew Roberts cheated on me, and the first thing I did was ask my colleague Parker Clark to switch shifts with me. In my previous life, Matthew had an affair with my best friend Sophie Baker in a car behind my back. They suddenly got into a car accident and were both rushed to the hospital. When I received the news and hurried to the hospital, I saw that due to the crash, Matthew and Sophie’s bodies had become stuck together. Later, Parker performed surgery on Matthew and Sophie. Both of them were fine, but I couldn’t handle the shock and fainted on the spot. When I woke up, Matthew sent me divorce papers. The agreement demanded that I couldn’t take any property with me and had to leave empty-handed. I used Matthew’s infidelity as grounds to demand we split the assets fifty-fifty. Matthew just sneered and said, “You’re saying I cheated? Where’s your proof?” Only then did I realize that because I was too shocked and had fainted, I hadn’t taken any evidence of Matthew’s affair. Plus, the hospital’s surveillance cameras happened to be broken. In the end, without proof of Matthew’s infidelity, I lost the case in court and got nothing. On the day of the divorce, I walked out of the courthouse with nothing, completely dazed. While crossing the street, I was hit by a car and died. When I opened my eyes again, I found myself back on the day Matthew and Sophie were rushed to the hospital together. At the hospital, Parker, who had started working here the same time as me, was both surprised and delighted. After all, nobody wanted to work the night shift. He asked me, “Dr. Phillips, are you sure you want to switch shifts with me? If there’s surgery, it’s going to be really tough on you.” My name is Elizabeth Phillips. I smiled and nodded, “It’s fine. I’m feeling really energetic today. Even if there’s surgery, I can handle it.” Hearing this, Parker immediately packed up his things happily and left for the day. I turned around, dropped my smile, put on my mask, and prepared for surgery. Because I knew that in twenty minutes, Matthew and Sophie would be rushed to the hospital after a car accident caused by having an affair in the car, their bodies stuck together. In my previous life, Parker had performed this surgery. When I received the news and rushed to the hospital, I saw that scene and fainted immediately. Later, after Matthew and Sophie’s surgery went fine, they asked me for a divorce and demanded I leave without taking any property. This time, I was going to make sure this pair of bastards lost everything. Sure enough, after about ten minutes, chaotic sounds came from the emergency room lobby. Then Matthew’s familiar, vicious screaming rang out. He shouted, “Sophie, don’t move! You’re going to break me! Help me! Where are the doctors? Where are the nurses? Get out here and save us!” I peeked through the door crack. Sophie was lying on top of Matthew in an extremely awkward position. They were both naked, covered only by a bedsheet. All the colleagues present couldn’t help but give them disgusted looks and whisper among themselves. A male doctor said, “What the hell is this situation? How did they end up like this? Coming to the hospital naked – don’t they feel any shame?” A female nurse said, “They’re obviously not in a proper relationship. They were just yelling about not letting anyone take photos – probably afraid it’ll get out.” Sophie kept screaming too, then suddenly seemed to remember something. She lowered her voice and said, “Matthew, keep it down. Elizabeth works at this hospital. If she finds out about us, she’ll definitely raise hell.” Matthew heard this and snorted coldly. He said, “Don’t worry. Elizabeth isn’t on shift today. Besides, that idiot only cares about work and nothing else. What could she possibly figure out? If it weren’t for her good family background, I would’ve divorced her ages ago. And with that haggard look of hers, I have zero interest when I see her – she’s nothing like you. Ow!” Even in this situation, Matthew kept staring at Sophie’s body. I couldn’t watch anymore. Fighting back my disgust, I put on my cap and mask properly, then suited up in full protective gear before walking out. I said directly, “Prepare for surgery immediately! If we delay any longer, these two are going to have more problems. Don’t you dare dirty our hospital beds.”

Hearing this, my assistants and nurses couldn’t help but laugh, their dissatisfaction even more obvious in their eyes. They could only push Matthew and Sophie into the operating room. I brought the medical camera into the operating room ahead of time, then instructed the nurses to take photos from every angle. Matthew heard the sound and turned his head to look over while lying on the bed. He said, “What are you doing? Why are you taking photos in the operating room? This is an invasion of our privacy. I’ll sue you, believe it or not?” I sneered inwardly, but remained calm on the surface. I replied evenly, “Every angle on the operating table needs to be documented. This way we can better consult with professors and develop a reasonable surgical plan. If you’re unwilling, then forget it.” I deliberately put away the camera and turned to walk out. “Wait! We didn’t say we were unwilling.” Seeing me about to leave, Sophie hurriedly called out anxiously. She was lying on top of Matthew in a particularly awkward position. Even in this situation, she still lowered her head to persuade Matthew: “Matthew, the most important thing now is to get us separated quickly. We can’t delay until Elizabeth comes to work tomorrow. If she finds out, things will be terrible.” Matthew was still being stubborn. He roared, “How is that possible? All my family’s assets are in my name. When the time comes, I’ll just tell Elizabeth to get lost. But wait, why does your voice sound so much like Elizabeth’s?” Halfway through speaking, he turned his head to stare at me. His body was still stuck and couldn’t move, but his mouth wouldn’t stay quiet, looking at me with suspicious eyes. I froze. To change my voice and body shape, I had deliberately put cotton balls in my mouth, wore a mask, and even put on several extra lab coats to alter my figure. Could he still recognize me like this? Before I could think of a countermeasure, Matthew smiled smugly again. He said, “But looking at your reaction, you’re definitely not Elizabeth. Elizabeth is the type who gets carried away by emotions – she goes crazy and fights with me just from discovering I’m chatting with other women. If she really saw me like this now, she’d probably have fainted already.” Hearing his words, Sophie immediately burst into laughter. She said, “Yes, Matthew. Do you remember when I deliberately left a piece of underwear in your car last time? Elizabeth’s reaction was absolutely devastating. She called me crying in the middle of the night, not knowing that you were with me at that time.” Matthew couldn’t help but laugh too after hearing this, but after just a few laughs, his movements were too big and pulled at his body, making him cry out in pain again. The nurse nearby couldn’t help but roll her eyes. She said quietly, “You’re cheating and you’re actually proud of it. Your wife is so unlucky. You two are really a pair of bastards!” The nurses responsible for this surgery were all transferred from other departments. They didn’t recognize me, so naturally they didn’t know I was the Elizabeth they were talking about. Matthew endured the pain, his face flushed red. He said, “What do you know? Sophie and I share true love. Otherwise, how would we end up like this here? A man only gets like this for the woman he truly loves – he can’t get hard for women he doesn’t love. Just like me, I never touch Elizabeth!” Hearing his words, I felt nothing but disgust. Without the memories from my previous life, I never would have imagined that Matthew, who had always been so compliant with me and said I was the person he loved most in this lifetime, had actually been scheming for my assets from the very beginning. As for that pair of underwear, Matthew later explained to me that it belonged to his mother, but I never thought that was also a lie. This pair of bastards was truly disgusting! Thinking of this, the hatred in my heart grew even stronger. I took a deep breath and said, “Please lie still. I’ve already thought of the most reasonable surgical plan.” With that, I picked up the scalpel and walked directly toward where their bodies were stuck together.

“What are you doing? What do you need that scalpel for?” Matthew shouted. Seeing my actions, his face instantly changed. Terrified, he tried to sit up to stop me, but the movement aggravated Sophie’s injury. Sophie immediately screamed: “It hurts! Matthew, what are you doing?” Matthew was in agony too, letting out several cries of pain before steadying himself. He looked at me and said: “What exactly is this surgical procedure you’re talking about? Will it hurt me? And why is your scalpel so sharp? Don’t touch me with it!” I knew exactly what Matthew was worried about. So I deliberately said: “Your current situation is very dangerous. If you can’t be separated quickly, it will affect your blood circulation and cause increased intracranial pressure. Both of you could be in mortal danger.” “What?” “How is that possible?” Both of them questioned simultaneously, staring at me with wide eyes, their faces full of disbelief. I shrugged, pretending to be nonchalant: “Don’t you even know this basic medical fact? To completely separate two people who are stuck together, you have to sacrifice certain parts of one of them.” “What do you mean by that?” Matthew asked. His face changed instantly, and he pointed at me excitedly: “I’m a man! If you dare touch my manhood, I’ll never forgive you!” I spread my hands: “You should be saying that to your ‘true love.’” Sophie’s face also completely changed at this point. She turned to look at Matthew: “Matthew, I’m a woman. If something gets cut off me, how can I still be a woman?” After hearing this, Matthew immediately started sweet-talking Sophie. He said: “Don’t worry, Sophie. As soon as the surgery is over, I’ll divorce Elizabeth and marry you. No matter what you look like, I’ll still want you.” Sophie’s face looked terrible. She clenched her hands into fists: “But…” “Doctor, prepare for surgery immediately!” Matthew shouted. He glared up at me, his eyes full of threats. Matthew said: “If you can’t even perform such a simple surgery properly, I’ll file a complaint against you. Ah!” Before he could finish speaking, Sophie had already grabbed the anesthesia needle nearby and jabbed it directly into Matthew. Matthew cried out once and quickly lost consciousness. Only then did I remember that Sophie was also a nursing major, so using an anesthesia needle was child’s play for her. After administering the injection, Sophie looked at me. She said: “He’s unconscious now. I’m the only conscious patient, so you have to listen to me. I demand that the surgical procedure prioritize my health completely. If something has to be removed, then remove his.” Sophie was both anxious and uneasy, urging me to agree. I shrugged and had the nurse bring over the surgical consent form. I said: “Fine. Then sign this consent form. So you won’t regret it after the surgery is over.” Sophie quickly signed. I didn’t say anything more and soon had the anesthesiologist inject Sophie with anesthesia as well, then began the surgery. Several hours passed quickly, and the surgery was finally nearing its end. With a “plop,” I threw the removed item into the surgical tray. The surgery was officially over. At this point, Matthew’s anesthesia was also wearing off. He groggily opened his eyes and asked: “My important parts are intact, right?” I raised an eyebrow and said with a cold smile: “Of course they are.” Matthew breathed a sigh of relief and said smugly in his dazed state: “Good. Sophie loves my manhood the most.” Loves it the most? How should I tell him that it was Sophie who personally signed the consent form for me to remove his “manhood”? Just thinking about Matthew’s reaction when he fully woke up and learned this news made me want to laugh. I quickly finished the post-surgical procedures and had the nurses take them back to their room. Before long, Matthew was fully conscious. Upon opening his eyes and seeing the nurse, his first reaction was to ask: “Was the surgery successful? Am I okay? Is my manhood completely intact?” The nurse, knowing the surgical procedure, thought he was being sarcastic. So she rolled her eyes: “Your life is obviously saved, otherwise how would you still be here talking?” Matthew breathed another sigh of relief, then raised his hand to touch the wound. But the nurse stopped him: “Don’t move around! Your wound was just stitched up. You can’t touch it with your hands or it’ll get infected.” Matthew smiled: “What do you know? That’s my manhood. I have to see it with my own eyes to feel at ease.” The nurse was stunned for a moment: “See what? Didn’t your girlfriend already sign the consent form agreeing to have it removed?” “What?” Matthew’s face went pale with shock.

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My girlfriend Nora Nelson’s childhood friend Miles Brooks and I got bound by some kind of “transfer system.” Everything he eats gets transferred to my stomach. Miles started a livestream account and made tons of money by eating nonstop for twelve hours straight, while I ended up in the hospital with acute pancreatitis. When I told Nora what was happening, she looked at me like I was an idiot and said, “There’s no such weird thing in this world. If food could transfer like that, nobody would ever starve to death. I think you’re just jealous that Miles is making money from livestreaming.” After that, every time Miles went live, I’d end up hospitalized with pancreatitis, each episode so severe I could’ve died. I went to the hospital for tests, but the doctors couldn’t figure out what was wrong. They even wanted to commit me to a psychiatric ward. Later, to compete with another streamer, Miles devoured 10 pounds of whole wheat spaghetti in one go, and I died from a ruptured spleen and internal bleeding. When I opened my eyes again, I found myself back at the moment when Miles first started livestreaming. This time, I got ahead of him and ordered twenty takeout meals. Then I said, “This time, I’m eating first.” On my phone screen, Miles had just finished a whole fried chicken, and I immediately felt full in my stomach. But I hadn’t eaten or drunk anything all day. Looks like I was right. Even though I’d been reborn, nothing had changed. Everything Miles ate would still end up in my stomach. While I was panicking, Miles brought out a huge bowl of spaghetti with a large bottle of Coke beside it. Looking at the screen, he said, “That chicken was just an appetizer. Now I’m starting on the main course.” A voice from off-screen kept exclaiming, “Oh my God, Miles, you’re incredible! I couldn’t finish all that food in three days and nights!” Seeing Miles about to bury his face in that bowl bigger than his head and start wolfing it down, I immediately grabbed my car keys and rushed out. I absolutely couldn’t let him keep eating. Otherwise, I’d die again. On the way, I used my phone to order another twenty takeout meals. This time, I was going to figure out what the hell he was up to. My car quickly pulled up downstairs at Nora’s place. The takeout arrived around the same time I did. I grabbed the food and rushed upstairs, knocking on Nora’s door. When she saw me, Nora looked annoyed. “What are you doing here? Are you spying on me again? Miles is livestreaming right now. Don’t cause trouble! “Just leave. Miles is having a great time eating. If you scare away the viewers, I won’t forgive you!” In my previous life, after graduation, Miles moved straight into Nora’s place, making excuses like, “Just staying temporarily until I find a job and have money to move out.” I thought it was inappropriate, but Nora argued back, “I’ve known him since we were kids. If there was something between us, how could I possibly be with you?” Later, Miles decided to start livestreaming online. To support him, I followed his account too. But that’s when strange things started happening. Every time he went live, my stomach felt like it was stuffed full, swelling to the point of bursting. Eventually, I ended up hospitalized with pancreatitis. Pancreatitis is caused by eating too much, and severe cases can be fatal on the spot. I told Nora about this, but she didn’t believe me at all. She said I was just jealous of Miles. Since she was helping Miles run his account, she wouldn’t let me get close afterward, afraid I’d interfere with their money-making. Meanwhile, I was suffering terribly at home, getting taken away by ambulances multiple times. The doctors kept advising me not to risk my life over food. Later, Miles competed with another streamer. They both had to eat 10 pounds of whole wheat spaghetti at the same time, and whoever finished first would win. As a result, I died from a ruptured spleen and massive internal bleeding. After I died, I saw Miles beat the other streamer, become the most popular streamer, and embrace Nora happily. Even in death, I couldn’t understand why this was happening. So this time, even if it meant dying together with him, I wouldn’t let him succeed.

I appeared directly in the livestream, interrupting Miles’ ongoing competitive eating broadcast. I held up the twenty takeout orders in my hands and said to him, “Miles, you can’t keep eating like this. Too much food is bad for your health. Let me help you eat some of this while you take a break.” Miles looked up from his food container, completely bewildered. “Nolan, I’m livestreaming right now. Can you please not mess around?” Nolan Martin is my name. I squeezed in front of the camera, putting my face fully in view. I’d dressed up specially before coming, and I was already much better-looking than Miles anyway. Miles was still just a small-time streamer with no real fame, so his stream didn’t have many loyal fans. When everyone saw me, they started commenting in the chat that they wanted to watch me do the eating broadcast instead. Miles couldn’t curse me out on camera, so he had no choice but to get up and give me his spot. I first pulled out a box of fruit that was mostly mangoes. Miles was allergic to mangoes and couldn’t eat them at all. I bought this specifically to test whether this “transfer system” worked both ways. If I ate something he couldn’t eat, would he have an allergic reaction? I finished the entire box of mangoes, and the chat was praising how good I looked while eating. Some people even sent big gifts. I smiled at Miles. “Looks like the audience prefers watching me eat. But don’t worry, I just suddenly felt like trying this today. All these gifts are yours – I don’t want a penny.” Miles was annoyed about being upstaged. But I kept staring at his face, watching for any allergic reaction. Except for looking a bit angry, he showed no abnormal symptoms at all. Maybe one box of fruit wasn’t enough. I pulled out a mango smoothie and a huge mango cake. Miles tried to win back the audience, saying, “Nolan, my streaming career is just getting started. If you want to livestream, use your own account. Why do you have to take over my stream? Just step aside and let me eat. If that doesn’t work, we can both eat and compete to see who can eat more.” As he spoke, he reached for the spaghetti to continue stuffing it in his mouth. I snatched the spaghetti away and showed it to the camera. “I’m doing this for your own good. This spaghetti has so much chili pepper – it’s definitely going to hurt your stomach. And you want to wash it down with ice-cold Coke? Do you know how many stomach problems start exactly like this? If you want to eat something, have some clam chowder instead. That’s much healthier.” I found a container of clam chowder from the takeout and handed it over. Seeing how thoughtful I was, the audience praised me for being not only handsome but also kind. They sent more gifts and told Miles to rest, saying they all wanted to watch me eat instead. Miles wanted to ask Nora for help, but she was staring at the gift revenue on the backend, grinning happily. As far as she was concerned, as long as money was coming in, anyone could do the streaming – especially since I was earning more than Miles. I forced myself through the stomach discomfort and finished both the mango smoothie and the mango cake, but Miles still showed no reaction whatsoever. In the past, if he had even taken one bite of mango, he would immediately break out in a full-body rash and his face would swell up. Damn it! I hadn’t expected this “transfer” to be one-way only. Everything Miles ate would transfer to me, but what I ate wouldn’t transfer to him. I felt my stomach was completely full and couldn’t eat another bite, so I waved my phone at the camera. “It’s getting really late now, everyone should go to sleep. Staying up late is bad for your health. Hope to see you all again sometime!” After saying goodbye to the audience, I turned off the livestream directly. Back in my car, I pulled out a plastic bag and threw up everything I had just eaten.

By the time I drove home, it was already late at night, but I couldn’t sleep at all. If I couldn’t figure out what was causing this within a day, my life would be in constant danger. As I lay in bed tossing and turning, a sudden wave of intense discomfort hit my stomach. I dry-heaved desperately, but nothing came up. The feeling was just like being forced to eat food I hated as a kid. I rushed to the fridge and grabbed some ice cream, hoping to ease the nausea. But after eating the ice cream, I found it had no effect whatsoever. That’s when something suddenly occurred to me, and I quickly opened my phone. Sure enough, Miles was streaming again! He said to the camera, “I’m going to eat some big chunks of bacon for you guys. Hope you’ll send some gifts.” Miles held a piece of bacon in his hand, eating it with obvious enjoyment. Even through the phone screen, I felt sick to my stomach. I angrily typed in the live chat: [Stop eating! Just watching you makes me nauseous!] Seeing my comment, Miles flashed a smug smile: “Who do you think you are? Just because you tell me to stop, I have to stop? Let me see your sincerity first.” The uncomfortable feeling grew stronger and stronger. I quickly sent several super car gifts, hoping to make him stop. But after taking my gifts, Miles didn’t stop at all. Instead, he pulled out a large bowl of mayonnaise. He said, “Since you don’t like me eating bacon, I’ll have something sweet instead.” Mayonnaise was pure fat—no different from eating straight lard. He scooped it into his mouth with a big spoon while I felt so nauseous I nearly threw up blood. I couldn’t help but comment: [What the hell did you do? Why are you the one eating, but I’m the one suffering? Stop eating! Don’t eat anything else!] Seeing my anguished comments, Miles laughed even more maniacally. My stomach suddenly cramped with excruciating pain. With my last bit of strength, I dialed 911. Fortunately, the ambulance arrived in time and pulled me back from hell-like agony. Just like in my previous life, I ended up with acute pancreatitis from overeating. Looking at my medical records, the doctor said in confusion, “How could you possibly eat that much food?” I didn’t answer. I had the doctor process my discharge papers, then immediately rushed to Miles’ house. The moment the door opened, I pulled out a knife and held it to Miles’ throat. Miles jumped in shock: “Nolan, what are you doing? Calm down!” I didn’t want to waste words with him, glaring at him viciously: “I don’t have the patience to waste time with you. Tell me honestly—why are you the one eating, but I’m the one suffering?” Miles put on an innocent expression: “What are you talking about? I have no idea what you mean.” I pressed the knife a little harder: “Stop playing dumb! Talk!” Miles’ face went pale with fear: “Calm down! I’ll talk, I’ll talk!” But the next second, he suddenly screamed: “Nora, help me!” It turned out Nora had quietly snuck up behind me. She kicked me to the ground and snatched the knife from my hand. She said angrily, “What the hell is wrong with you?” Then Nora immediately started a live stream and placed thirty hamburgers on the table. She said, “You claim that everything Miles eats gets transferred to your stomach, right? Let’s have the viewers witness whether what you’re saying is true.” The viewers didn’t know what was happening and flooded the live chat with questions. Nora explained: “My boyfriend has lost his mind. He says everything Miles eats gets transferred to his stomach. I’m asking everyone to witness this today. If he keeps acting crazy, I’m breaking up with him.” Miles picked up a hamburger and bit into it without hesitation. That familiar feeling of fullness immediately hit me—my stomach couldn’t take this kind of torture anymore. The pain grew more intense, and I couldn’t hold on. I collapsed on the floor, convulsing. Someone in the live chat reminded Nora: [I think this guy is faking it. Slap him a couple times and he’ll cut it out!] Nora looked at me coldly: “If you keep up this act, I’m breaking up with you!” I clenched my fists and slowly stood up against the wall, forcing a smile as I said, “I’m not faking it. It’s just gastroenteritis acting up—stomach pain, that’s all. Don’t I have the right to get sick?” With Nora right here conducting her livestream, there was nothing I could do but leave. But Nora wouldn’t let me go and made Miles finish all the remaining burgers. She said, “Don’t deliberately cause trouble again. Consider this a lesson.” Back at the hospital, the doctor angrily asked why I was eating recklessly again, wondering if I had developed binge eating disorder, and mentioned arranging psychological treatment. I smiled bitterly. Truth was, I hadn’t eaten properly in days, yet my stomach always felt bloated. This time the doctor wouldn’t discharge me, insisting I stay for treatment. I followed the doctor’s advice and stayed put in the hospital. But within a few days, I felt Miles binge eating again. I opened his livestream and saw Nora taking him to dine out, ordering everything on the menu. Then my phone buzzed with a WhatsApp message from Miles: [Nolan, Nora took me out of town this time. There’s so much good food here. I don’t want to waste it, so I’m going to finish everything.] I was furious—I wanted to fly there immediately and kill Miles. Just then, I suddenly noticed the medication the doctor had prescribed me. In that instant, I understood the truth behind everything. The moment I figured it out, I was so thrilled I jumped right out of the hospital bed. Over the next few days, Miles livestreamed from various restaurants, causing quite a stir online. His appetite was incredible—he never purged, yet maintained his figure perfectly. Other streamers weren’t having it and challenged him one after another. Miles accepted the challenges and decided to compete against a streamer with millions of followers in an eating contest in a few days. In my previous life, I died at home right after this competition. But this time, I lay leisurely in my hospital bed, peacefully recovering and waiting for discharge. Soon came the day of the competition. Miles’s livestream instantly drew over ten thousand viewers. Ten large bowls sat before him, each filled with whole wheat pasta. When he was about to start eating, his expression turned pained, and he unconsciously put down his fork. Seeing his opponent already eating, Nora grew anxious and urged, “Miles, hurry up! He’s already started.” Miles nodded through his discomfort, preparing to eat again. But suddenly he clutched his stomach and doubled over. Just as Nora was about to ask what was wrong, Miles let out an incredibly loud fart in front of over ten thousand livestream viewers. The next second, a foul stench filled the air. Miles collapsed. Watching this scene, I couldn’t stop grinning. Soon, Nora’s call came through. She demanded, “What did you do?” I smiled slightly and said, “Take a guess.”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MyFiction” app 🔍 search for “398221”, and watch the full series ✨! #MyFiction #B×G #MaleLead #ChildhoodCrush #Paranormal #Rebirth #Revenge