I was William’s childhood friend who couldn’t speak. He got into trouble, and I took the fall for him, spending over a decade in prison. Before I went in, he cried and said, “Lily, I’ve wronged you. I’ll wait for you to come out and treat you right.” During those years, William only visited me for the first three. He had no idea what kind of life a mute country girl led in prison. The tough inmates came and went, but I remained, enduring it all. When times got tough, I’d think of him. I’d remember the candy he bought me from town, how he said I was his girl even though I couldn’t speak. On the day of my release, William showed up in a crisp suit, driving a fancy car. Next to him was a girl, dressed elegantly like a fairy tale princess. That’s when I learned she was his business partner’s daughter. She liked him, and he couldn’t turn her down. So today, he said he was here to pick up his orphaned cousin from the countryside. I remembered then – my parents had died saving him from a flood. I was indeed an orphan. I just nodded, neither crying nor making a fuss. I played along with his act of us being cousins. The truth was, I had cancer. My dying wish was to see William one last time. I was afraid he wouldn’t be able to let me go. Now I wasn’t afraid anymore. Later, he would lose everything trying to save me, saying he wanted nothing but his Lily back. I shook my head, clumsily using my last bit of strength to sign: William, I’m leaving. Take care.

“Try to stay out of trouble when you get out,” the guard advised as the iron gate clanged shut behind me, cutting off the sky that had confined me for fifteen years. The sunlight stung my eyes, making me squint as I greedily breathed in the air of freedom. It didn’t smell of the familiar earth I remembered, just the cold scent of car exhaust. I waited for a long time, until the sun began to set, until I thought he wasn’t coming. But I didn’t know where else to go. This world of bustling traffic was so foreign; I’d long forgotten the way home. So I could only sit by the roadside and keep waiting. I seemed to be good at waiting. I’d waited for fifteen years. At first, I waited for William to visit me again. Then I waited for my bullies to be released. Now I was waiting for William to pick me up. When they contacted my family, he said he’d come for me. He promised, so I believed him. Until a glossy black sedan silently pulled up in front of me. The window slowly lowered, revealing a face etched in my memory, yet somewhat unfamiliar. It was William. He had lost some weight, his features sharper now. The boyish charm was gone from his brow, replaced by a depth and distance I couldn’t quite read. He wore an impeccable suit I’d never seen before, and on his wrist, a silver watch gleamed aristocratically in the sun. “Lily,” he said, his voice hoarse. I tried to smile at him, just like I had fifteen years ago. But my muscles, long unused to such expressions, probably twisted into something uglier than crying. I walked towards him, my steps unsteady as if I were treading on cotton. The car door opened, but he didn’t get out. The passenger door opened first, and a girl in a champagne-colored dress stepped out. Her hair was slightly curled, her makeup flawless, like she’d stepped out of a painting. She naturally walked around to the driver’s side, opening the door and affectionately linking her arm with William’s. “Will, is this the country cousin you mentioned?” her voice was as sweet as a oriole’s song, her gaze holding a barely concealed curiosity and assessment.

The girl’s voice was as melodious as a songbird, her gaze holding a barely concealed curiosity and assessment as she looked at me. My feet suddenly froze in place. Cousin? William’s body stiffened slightly. He extracted his arm from the girl’s grasp and quickly walked over to me, his eyes complex as he looked at me. His tone carried guilt and a hint of pleading. “Lily, this is Olivia, my… ” he paused, seeming to choose his words carefully, “my business partner’s daughter.” He turned to Olivia and introduced me: “Olivia, this is my cousin, Lily. She grew up in the countryside and hasn’t been out much.” That’s when I remembered. Yes, that flood years ago. My parents had died trying to save William from being swept away. I became an orphan, taken in by his family. So wasn’t I indeed just a lonely orphan with no relatives? So, I was just his cousin now. I looked at them, one in a tailored suit, the other in flowing silk, a perfect couple. And me, wearing the faded old clothes issued by the prison, my hair dull and my face pale, like a ghost crawled up from underground. I lowered my head, looking at my own dry, rough hands. These hands had been soaked in icy water through countless winter days in the prison laundry, burned by hot oil countless times in the kitchen. They had also been clenched into fists, nails digging into flesh, enduring the blows that fell on my body when I was bullied. But I had never thought these hands were ugly before, because William had once held them, saying he would give me a good life. Now, I felt they were too ugly to even belong in the same air as him. I didn’t cry or make a scene. I just nodded to him, showing I understood. William let out a sigh of relief. He was probably afraid I’d cause a scene and embarrass him. Sitting in the car, the soft leather seats made me uncomfortable. The car was filled with a pleasant scent, coming from Olivia. She sat in the front with William, chatting easily about stocks, wine, and dinner parties – things I couldn’t understand. “Will, are you really not going to Mr. Wang’s party tonight? He organized it especially for you,” Olivia said. “Not tonight. I just picked up Lily, I need to get her settled,” William glanced at me in the rearview mirror, his eyes evasive. “Oh come on, it’s just a cousin. Mrs. Johnson can take care of her. Your business is important,” Olivia pouted, her voice sickeningly sweet. I shrank into the corner of the back seat, trying to make myself invisible. The cancer in my stomach started to ache again. I quietly pressed my hand against my abdomen, taking deep breaths. The car pulled into a place I couldn’t have imagined even in my dreams. A huge wrought iron gate, a garden with fountains and neatly trimmed lawns, and a mansion that looked like a castle stood before us. A middle-aged woman wearing an apron came out to greet us. William called her Mrs. Johnson. Mrs. Johnson took the small bag from William’s hand – all my worldly possessions. She weighed it, a fleeting look of contempt crossing her face, then her gaze fell on me. I was familiar with that look. Many people in prison had looked at me that way. After all, I was just a mute country girl. “Sir, is this…” “My cousin, Lily,” William interrupted her. “Mrs. Johnson, take her to the guest room on the first floor and help her get settled.” “The first floor?” Mrs. Johnson hesitated. “But sir, that room is for the staff…” “That room,” William’s tone left no room for argument. He didn’t want to dwell on the topic. I followed Mrs. Johnson, walking across the mirror-like marble floor, past the enormous crystal chandelier, and finally to a small, dark room at the corner of the stairs. It had only a single bed and a small wardrobe, with a window facing the back wall of the yard. But it was clean, and just for me. It was much better than prison. This was my new home.

That evening, William didn’t stay for dinner. Olivia laughed coyly, saying she wanted to take him to a new French restaurant, claiming their foie gras was exquisite. I sat alone in the vast dining room. Mrs. Johnson had made me a bowl of noodles. Plain boiled noodles with two pieces of green vegetables floating on top, not even a drop of oil. I ate silently, the pain in my stomach growing more intense. I remembered the times in prison when life got unbearably tough, I would think of William. I remembered how he had saved his allowance for half a month to buy me a pack of fruit candies from town. He had handed them to me like a treasure, smiling and saying, “Lily, when I make big money, I’ll let you eat candy every day.” I remembered when the village kids made fun of me for not being able to speak, it was William who beat them up one by one, then turned to me with red eyes saying, “Don’t be afraid, Lily. Even if you can’t speak, you’re still my girl.” For fifteen years, these memories had kept me alive. Night fell, and I was curled up on the bed, my stomach pain so severe that cold sweat soaked through my thin clothes. I couldn’t bear it anymore. I stumbled out of the mansion in the dark, relying on my faint memory to find a 24-hour convenience store. I searched the shelves for a long time before finding the cheapest fruit hard candies, colorful and exactly like the ones in my memory. I clutched that pack of candy like a lifeline. The next day, I saw William coming downstairs. He was dressed casually but still looked elegant. I gathered my courage, walked up to him, and opened my palm. In it lay a translucent orange candy. I looked at him expectantly, perhaps with a light in my eyes that I wasn’t even aware of. I wanted to tell him, “William, look, I found our candy.” He froze. Before he could say anything, Olivia came downstairs in her slippers. Seeing the candy in my hand, she laughed dramatically: “Oh my god, Will, you still eat this stuff? It’s all artificial colors and sugar, so unhealthy.” William’s face instantly turned red. He seemed to have been reminded of some embarrassing past, and suddenly swatted my hand away. The candy rolled from my palm, scattering across the floor with a series of tiny clinks. I stood there, frozen, looking at those colorful candies on the expensive floor, feeling how cheap and ridiculous they looked. I silently crouched down, reaching out with my rough hands to pick them up one by one. But my hands were shaking so badly, I couldn’t grasp them. I heard Olivia cooing nearby, “Will, don’t be angry. Your cousin meant well. Mrs. Johnson, please clean up this mess, it’s an eyesore.” I finally managed to pick up one candy, clutching it in my palm. The cheap sweetness seeped through my skin, but it felt bitter in my heart. Days passed. William was busy with his business and with Olivia. He would occasionally ask me if I was “settling in okay,” but wouldn’t wait for my nod before being called away by another phone call. I was like a weed forgotten in a corner, silent and unnoticed. Later, Olivia’s friends came to the mansion for a party. They decided to play hide and seek. I had played this as a child. They invited me to join. But someone, as a prank, pushed me into the second-floor storage room and locked the door. The small, enclosed, dusty space instantly pulled me back into the nightmare of those fifteen years. In prison, because I refused to “pay respect” to a new top dog, she and her gang had locked me in solitary confinement. No windows, no light, just endless silence and the scratching sounds of rats gnawing on things. That time, I was locked up for three days and three nights. When I came out, I was half dead. I opened my mouth silently, immense fear gripping my throat. But I could only tremble, curled up in the corner, my arms tightly wrapped around my head. My stomach churned, and I started to dry heave uncontrollably. I don’t know how long it was before I heard Olivia’s impatient voice outside the door: “Who locked this? The game’s over!” The door opened, and blinding light poured in. William and Olivia stood in the doorway, both stunned to see me curled up on the floor, my face streaked with tears. “What’s wrong with her? It was just a game, why is she crying?” Olivia complained, her tone full of disgust. “Such a mood killer.” William’s brows furrowed tightly. He walked over and roughly pulled me up, his grip so tight it hurt my wrist. “Lily, what the hell are you doing? Can’t you stop causing trouble for everyone?” “I’m already stressed enough with my business. I don’t have time to coddle you like a child every day!”

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My sister’s restaurant. I was just about to leave when the manager called out, “Sir, you haven’t paid your bill yet.” I looked at the unfamiliar face, thinking he must be new and didn’t recognize me. So, I politely explained, “Just put it on your boss’s tab. She knows about it.” The male manager gave me a dismissive glance. “Sir, this is a three-Michelin-star restaurant. We never allow tabs.” He finished speaking, then handed me a printed bill. I glanced down at it. A single meal, half a million dollars. Glow-up cutlery maintenance fee: $30,000. Exclusive air purification fee: $50,000. VIP emotional appeasement service fee: $100,000. And a bunch of other ridiculous charges. I had no idea my sister ran such a rip-off joint. I let out a sarcastic laugh. “I’m Adrian Hayes, Ms. Hayes’s brother. If there’s an issue, she can come home and talk to me.” But he wouldn’t back down. “If you can’t afford it, just say so. Don’t try to piggyback on Ms. Hayes’s name. I’ve seen plenty of pretty boys trying to sponge off women.” I texted my assistant: *Tell my sister: either fire this guy, or I’m pulling all my investments.*

“Sir, stop wasting everyone’s time. Just pay.” His tone was smug and cutting, as if he’d already labeled me a scoundrel trying to climb the ladder on a woman’s coattails. Several curious glances were already turning my way. I frowned, not wanting to waste time on such a ridiculous matter. I pulled out my phone and dialed my sister’s number directly. But all I got was a cold busy signal. I tried again, same result. It’s a weekday, what’s that girl up to? I put down my phone and looked straight at the aggressive man, repeating each word clearly: “I’ll say it again. My name is Adrian Hayes, and I am the biological brother of your boss, Serena Hayes.” “Her phone isn’t answering right now. You can check her card; my photo and information are linked to it.” I thought this was the most direct and effective way to solve the problem. But when the male manager heard my name, instead of verifying it, he burst into a loud, exaggerated, and grating laugh. He laughed so hard he almost doubled over, drawing even more attention. Then, he suddenly leaned in close, lowering his voice to a whisper only we could hear: “Still pretending? I’ve seen your face in Serena’s photo album a thousand times!” “You’re that persistent creep who always tries to interfere with our lives!” “And now you have the nerve to show up at her restaurant and put your tab on her? Who do you think you are?” I froze for a second, then glanced at his name tag – Brendon Miller. An overwhelming sense of exasperation washed over me. Serena’s boyfriend, the one she’d been so secretive about, the one she wouldn’t even let me see a single photo of… it turned out to be this foolish, venomous man right in front of me. How could her taste be this bad? It dawned on me then: today’s half-million-dollar “exorbitant bill” wasn’t a misunderstanding at all. It was a premeditated humiliation. Before I could even speak, he’d completely lost his patience. “If this gentleman insists on dining and dashing, we’ll have to restrain him until the police arrive!” He waved his hand, and two burly security guards, who had been standing nearby, immediately stepped forward. They were two well-trained strongmen. Two fists against four hands, my resistance was quickly subdued, and my arms were twisted tightly behind my back. I struggled violently but couldn’t break free from their professional hold. They ignored my furious gaze and the frightened looks of the other guests, roughly dragging me towards the back kitchen. Then, I was violently shoved into the storeroom in the back, reeking of disinfectant and stale, greasy slop. The door slammed shut, cutting off all light and sound from outside.

In the dark, the male manager said nothing. He simply raised his leather-clad foot and kicked me hard in the stomach. The excruciating pain made me grunt instantly, my stomach churning. “That’s for spending my woman’s money!” “That’s for meddling in her business!” He yelled, his voice twisted by jealousy and rage. He looked down at me, then ordered the two burly men: “Beat him! Teach him a lesson!” The two security guards were clearly his cronies; they didn’t hesitate, a relentless flurry of punches and kicks raining down on me. I gritted my teeth, swallowing every cry of pain. My bones felt like they were being crushed inch by inch, my internal organs dislodged. His taunts continued: “Who do you think you are, huh? Just a good-for-nothing leeching off his sister!” “I told you I’m her brother! If you don’t believe me, ask Serena! Call her now, I’ll talk to her!” I struggled to explain, but the man in front of me just ignored it. It wasn’t until I started feeling dizzy that he raised a hand, signaling them to stop. He nudged my shoulder with the tip of his leather shoe, looking at me triumphantly: “You’d better settle the bill today and cough up another half-million.” “That’s the consequence of you interfering in my relationship with Serena and spending her money.” “I’m not afraid of trouble. Serena will handle any fallout for me.” I was curled in a ball of pain, weakly trying to argue, “That’s *my* own money! I told you, if you don’t believe me, go ask her.” His face changed. He kicked me, and the two security guards immediately understood, their punches and kicks raining down on me again. I knew he wouldn’t listen to anything I said. If this continued, I could be seriously hurt. After I coughed up a mouthful of blood, I used my last ounce of strength to grope for my phone on the floor. “Stop… I’ll… I’ll pay.” He seemed satisfied with my submission, signaling the two security guards to stop. He squatted down and patted my swollen cheek. “See? Wouldn’t it have been easier to just do that from the start? You chose the hard way.” “Two million. Not a cent less.” I lay sprawled on the cold floor, gasping for breath, my lungs burning. I ignored him and dialed my friend Leo Rodriguez’s number. The phone was answered quickly. “Leo, bring two million to my sister’s restaurant. I need it now.” Leo on the other end paused, then sensed something was wrong. “Adrian? What’s wrong, man? Your voice sounds…” “Don’t ask. Just hurry.” I cut him off and hung up. Brendon’s eyes instantly lit up at the mention of “two million.” A greedy glint flashed in them. He probably thought I was beaten into submission, offering more money to beg for mercy. The triumph on his face was now impossible to hide. “Smart move.”

Leo’s speed was astonishing. Soon, the storeroom door was violently shoved open from the outside. Leo, accompanied by two bodyguards, strode in quickly. He was shocked to see the blood on my mouth, my disheveled clothes, and my pathetic posture, propped up on the floor. He rushed over to help me up. I shook my head, subtly signaling him to stay silent, then took the bank card he handed me (with the PIN attached) and tossed it to the man. The man took the card and didn’t bother me further, waving his hand. “If that’s a fake card, I have countless ways to find you. Get lost.” Enduring the excruciating pain throughout my body, I limped out of that sickening place, leaning on Leo’s arm. When we reached the entrance, I thanked Leo: “Thanks, buddy. I’ll get this sorted and pay you back quickly.” He looked at me worriedly. “Don’t worry about the money, it’s nothing. But what happened to you?” I sneered. “My sister found herself a fine boyfriend. I guess I have a score to settle with her.” I pulled out my phone and found the number for the restaurant’s Assistant General Manager, Mr. Peterson. Mr. Peterson was the restaurant’s actual manager, someone I had personally recruited, and he was quite loyal to me. The call connected. I wasted no words, my voice devoid of emotion. “You have ten minutes to fire a manager named Brendon Miller.” “Otherwise, Hayes Enterprises will withdraw all investment from the restaurant, every last cent.” Mr. Peterson on the other end was scared shitless the moment he heard my voice. He must have heard the weakness and the unusual edge in my voice, as he agreed in quick, terrified succession, not even daring to ask why. I hung up the phone and, without a moment’s pause, told Leo to take me straight to the police station. With the clearest, calmest logic, I recounted everything that had just happened to the officer who assisted me. After giving a detailed statement at the police station, I went to the hospital for an injury assessment. I held that thin report in my hand, and the fury of betrayal, as if fueled by hot oil, burned hotter and fiercer within me. I needed an explanation. I needed Serena Hayes, to give me an explanation herself. My assistant found out Serena was at her villa. My driver and bodyguards arrived, and we headed straight for Serena’s place. That villa was also a gift from me. However, when I arrived, I was greeted by blaring heavy metal music. And the raucous sounds of men and women echoing through the doors and windows. She was throwing a party. No wonder she hadn’t answered my calls. The villa’s main door was ajar, and on a strange impulse, I didn’t push it open immediately. Soon, I heard a familiar male voice. It was Brendon Miller. He was pouring out his story to everyone, painting himself as a poor, helpless victim, bullied by an arrogant third party – me – who then had the audacity to turn the tables and accuse him. “…I just asked him to pay the bill, and he threw two million dollars in my face, then found people to get me fired…” “Serena, he’s gone too far. He doesn’t respect you at all!” “He just wants to humiliate me, he just wants us to break up!” Inside, Serena’s circle of ‘friends’ — mostly hangers-on and troublemakers — echoed his outrage. Serena, in turn, was loudly comforting Brendon in her arms, her voice full of tenderness and indulgence. “Brendon, don’t worry, I won’t let you suffer this injustice!” Then, as if to prove her resolve, she promised everyone confidently: “When I get my hands on my brother, I’ll make him beg for your forgiveness on his knees!” Inside, those spoiled brats were still backing Brendon, shouting about how they would make me pay. “Serena, just say the word, and we’ll go drag that bastard out right now!” “Yeah! Let him know who truly owns this place!” I couldn’t listen anymore. I raised a hand, and my bodyguard kicked open the villa’s front door. The booming music screeched to a halt, the noisy laughter instantly vanishing. Dozens of stunned eyes, all at once, turned towards the doorway. “No need to drag me out. I’m right here. Who wants to teach me a lesson?”

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I went to prison for my girlfriend, taking the fall for her for three years. I even handed over my multi-billion dollar company for her to manage. She promised we’d get married the day I got out. I was a model inmate, and on the day I got out early, I grabbed the first bike I saw and pedaled like crazy, eager to surprise her at home. But the facial recognition system at the mansion didn’t recognize me. The property management hadn’t even had a chance to contact the owner yet. Then a man, wearing *my* pajamas, walked to the door, a three-year-old girl in his arms. He took one look at me, rolled his eyes in disgust, pulled out a crumpled bill, and flicked it at my face. “Go beg somewhere else!” “And don’t you dare try to stick around here!” I looked at the hundred-dollar bill on the ground and just started laughing. When did my mansion get a new owner? … Mr. Davies picked up the fallen bill and practically shoved it into my hand. “You’re a lucky man today, running into someone as kind as Mr. Caleb.” “Considering you just got out, I won’t call security. Just go.” As he spoke, the stranger clutched the child tighter and stumbled back several steps, his face a clear mask of disgust. “I’m looking for Serena. She’s my girlfriend.” At that, the stranger’s face instantly twisted, as if he was about to snap something back. Mr. Davies shot him a look, then turned to me. “Ms. Serena? Your girlfriend? Don’t be ridiculous. Not in broad daylight.” He was about to throw me out without another word. I struggled, ready to defend myself. “Sir, you’re back.” I looked up. It was Martha, our housekeeper, just coming out to take the trash. Martha vouched for me to Mr. Davies, and he started apologizing profusely. I gave a bitter laugh. “If Martha hadn’t shown up, I’d probably be sleeping on the streets tonight.” Martha quickly smoothed things over and ushered me inside. Inside, the stranger remained silent. Martha hurried ahead, practically sprinting, as if afraid I’d ask her something. As the door opened, Serena’s familiar voice drifted out. “Caleb, the formula’s ready. It’s time to feed…” But then she saw me. She froze, stammering, “Blake? Why are you out early? You didn’t tell me!” No enthusiastic hug, just a strange chill settling in my chest. I looked around, and everything had changed. The sofa was now my least favorite orange, piled high with baby supplies. And all my old things? Gone. Serena quickly grabbed my arm, explaining, “This is my new assistant, Caleb Stone. His wife… she passed away during childbirth. As his boss, I’m just helping him out by looking after his daughter for a bit, out of sympathy.” The next second, Caleb was practically plastered to me, fawning. “So *you’re* the brother-in-law! My apologies, I didn’t recognize greatness when I saw it.” He was a completely different person from the arrogant man who’d just been here. I ignored him, turning coldly to Serena. “Where are my things?” She said, her voice overly sweet, “I was afraid Daisy might break them, so I packed them up and put them in the study. I’ll get them for you.” I walked straight to the study and opened the door. Inside, it was filled with photos of that child: her hundred-day celebration, her first birthday, second birthday… Serena had thoughtfully written dates and loving messages on them. Meanwhile, my belongings were shoved in a dusty corner, forgotten. I turned to her. “Anyone would think you were her real mother.” Serena’s face darkened. “What’s that supposed to mean? I’m just trying to keep talented people at the company!” The air grew thick with silence, then shattered by the baby’s cries. Serena rushed over, cooing to the child and offering a bottle. Caleb murmured, “There’s no other way. Daisy’s always been fed by Serena since she was tiny.” I watched her, saying nothing. Once the crying stopped, Serena immediately handed Daisy back to Caleb, as if desperately trying to prove something to me. But Caleb turned, walking towards me. “Brother-in-law, want to hold her? She’s really cute.” I was about to refuse, but he just placed her directly into my arms. Suddenly, her little face turned bright red, and she began to wail uncontrollably. Serena instantly shoved me away, scooped up the child, and soothed her gently in her arms. Caleb, meanwhile, gave me a knowing smirk. Serena shot me a reproachful look. “Daisy is shy with strangers. For her sake, why don’t you stay in a hotel for now? I’ll have Mr. Jenkins drive you.” She paused for a few seconds. “I’ll come find you later.” Seeing the child still whimpering, clinging to Serena’s shoulder, I kept my temper. I turned and walked towards Mr. Jenkins, who was waiting. As I looked up, I froze for a moment. The car was still the business sedan I’d bought before, but it had been repainted red. “But you hate red, don’t you?” I shot back. Serena shrugged dismissively. “I lent it to Caleb ages ago. It’s easier for him to pick up and drop off Daisy.” Then, without another glance, she went back inside, already humming a lullaby to put the baby to sleep. Watching her disappear, a hot, bitter wave washed over me. That sedan was the gift I’d given her for our two-year anniversary. We’d promised each other we’d take a road trip every year, see every corner of the world. She’d completely forgotten. The car was crammed with stuffed animals, only one small corner free enough for someone to sit. I told Mr. Jenkins, “Mr. Jenkins, I need to go to the nursing home first, if you don’t mind dropping me off there.” My father passed away young, and my mother was my only living relative. I didn’t want her to worry, so I never told her about my imprisonment. Three years without seeing her. I missed her terribly. “If we go to the nursing home and then the hotel, there won’t be enough time. Ms. Serena wants me to pick them up for the amusement park later.” A doubt gnawed at me: What could a three-year-old possibly do at an amusement park? I didn’t press Mr. Jenkins. I just told him to drop me at the nursing home. He then handed me a hotel key card. I looked at it. It was for a run-down motel outside the city limits, barely even a hotel. The smallest stuffed animal in that car was probably worth more than the entire place. I gave a self-deprecating laugh and walked towards the nursing home entrance. I looked up and saw an old woman with white hair, sitting helplessly by the side of the road. Around her lay a scattered roll of bedding. It was covered in large patches of mold, dirty and torn. Bystanders nearby murmured, “Either she has no kids, or the ones she has are absolute animals.” I walked closer, focusing my gaze. It was my mother, Eleanor! The bystanders’ words echoed in my mind, filling me with a fresh wave of shame. I rushed to help her up. “Mom, why aren’t you in the nursing home?” My mother’s eyes welled up with tears when she saw me. “They kicked me out, son. You’re finally back.” I led my mother into Ms. Thorne’s office, demanding, “Don’t you know who she is? Why did you kick her out?” Ms. Thorne adjusted her glasses. “Eleanor Harrison hasn’t paid her fees in over a month. We notified her family repeatedly to come and pick her up, but no one ever showed. We had no choice but to evict her, according to policy.” I stood there, stunned, unable to speak. Before I went to prison, I had voluntarily given Serena my CEO position and all my assets. She promised she’d take good care of my mother in the nursing home. At first, she’d send me videos of Mom during every visit, which put my mind at ease. I never imagined my mother would end up in such a state. Swallowing my anger, I called Serena. She whined, “I’m so busy running the company all by myself! I’ll have accounting transfer three hundred thousand dollars over right away.” Then, I heard her whisper, “Leo, don’t tell Caleb about this money. Otherwise, he’ll say I’m making decisions behind his back again.” The line went dead, but I felt as if a giant boulder had landed on my chest, making it hard to even breathe. The nursing home quickly confirmed receiving the money. I hurried with my mother back to her old room, helping her pack her belongings. Just as I finished packing and was about to take Mom to dinner, three or five security guards burst in, demanding we leave. Without a word, the guards started throwing Mom’s clothes onto the floor. Ms. Thorne sneered, “Well, I’ve heard about folks from rough places, but you’re a special kind of trouble, aren’t you?” “We just paid the fees! Why are you kicking us out?” I demanded, furious. “The money came in, and right after that, we got a threat to send it back or face a lawsuit. Not calling the police directly was me being merciful.” As Ms. Thorne spoke, she played a recording. Caleb’s voice boomed from her phone. “On behalf of Ascend Group, I demand you return that payment immediately. Otherwise, our legal team will sue you.” “Ms. Serena is beautiful and kind-hearted; she doesn’t care about these small amounts. But *I* have to protect her interests and ensure no one tries to take advantage of her.” My hands shaking, I pulled out my phone to call Serena, but I couldn’t get through. My mother, however, collapsed onto the sofa, clutching her chest, exhausted by the ordeal. Seeing her condition, I had no choice but to plead with Ms. Thorne. “Director, I’m Blake Harrison, the former CEO of Ascend Group. The Ms. Serena he mentioned is my fiancée. Can you please make an exception and let my mother stay here for now?” “As soon as I reach her, I’ll bring the money.” Ms. Thorne gave me a dismissive look, waving her hand. “You don’t look like you’re in charge, no matter how I look at you. The person on the phone sounds a lot more authoritative than you.” “If you can’t afford to stay, then leave. This isn’t a charity, and I’m no saint.” With that, she was about to order the guards to throw us out. I slowly helped my mother to her feet and we left. The scorching sun beat down, and fine beads of sweat constantly broke out on my mother’s forehead. I looked around, desperate to find somewhere to get her out of the heat. With a soft thud, my mother’s legs gave out, and she collapsed. I immediately called 911 and rushed her to the hospital. At the hospital, we were left in the corridor, ignored. But I overheard nurses whispering, “Apparently, some big shot came in, and her assistant just has a common cold, but she’s got all the doctors tied up in a consultation for him.” Watching my mother struggle to breathe with the oxygen mask, I ran straight to the consultation room. I burst through the doors. Serena was sitting amidst a group of doctors. She looked at me, startled. Ignoring my anger, I said frantically, “My mom collapsed! She’s downstairs right now! Can someone please get a doctor to see her?” Serena hesitated for a second, then Caleb, lying nearby, suddenly started coughing non-stop. She quickly changed her tone. “What? That’s impossible! Isn’t your mother perfectly fine at the nursing home?” Then she practically dragged me towards the door. “Blake, don’t get the wrong idea. Caleb has a very serious illness, and we’re in the middle of discussing his condition.” I scoffed. “A common cold isn’t going to kill anyone, Serena.” She looked at me, utterly incredulous. “What if she catches it? Daisy wouldn’t be able to handle it!” “So my mother’s life means nothing?” I yelled, furious. She just decided I was being unreasonable, shoving a wad of cash into my hand. “Stop being dramatic, go home. Once Caleb is better, I’ll go with you to see your mother.” Then she pushed me out, locking the door from the inside. No matter how hard I knocked, she wouldn’t open it. Disheartened, I returned to the corridor. My mother had opened her eyes. A nurse nearby explained, “She’s just malnourished and has heatstroke. A good recovery at home should do the trick.” Leaving the hospital, I found a better hotel and settled my mother in. Seeing her pale, frail face, I clenched my fists, a fierce determination hardening inside me. The next day, I arrived at the company early, only to find that my former office was now Caleb’s. The door even had a keypad lock. Through the glass, I saw the office had been transformed into a gaming room, littered with action figures and gaming gear. It looked nothing like a workspace. I looked up and saw Caleb sauntering into the office, wearing flip-flops and carrying a bag of breakfast. He sat down, pushed aside the stack of documents on his desk, and casually started gaming with his subordinate, talking into his headset. “Caleb Stone, who gave you the authority to stop my mother’s nursing home payments? And where’s Serena?” I demanded, my patience snapped. He looked up at me, giving me a sneering, provocative smile. “Serena’s on a business trip. I’m just looking out for her, making sure no one can accuse her of embezzling company funds or abusing her power.” The next second, his subordinate, Troy, hurled his half-eaten breakfast at me. “Who the hell are you? You think you’re fit to lecture our CEO Caleb?” I dodged, refusing to stoop to his level. I pulled out my phone and dialed. “Mr. Harrison, I’m at the office. Can you come down here, please?” He readily agreed. After I hung up, Caleb sneered, “Brother-in-law, if you want to leave, I’ll have the driver take you.” I said coldly, “Mr. Harrison? You don’t know him? He’ll be here soon to remind you exactly who I am.” They exchanged a look, then both laughed. Troy instantly chimed in, sucking up, “Oh, if you know Mr. Harrison, then I know Mr. Harrison’s dad!” I was about to retort when I noticed a certificate — the one from when I led my team to win an international award — being used to prop up a table leg. Months of late nights and hard work, all for that honor, now treated with such utter contempt. I kicked the gaming desk aside, grabbed the certificate, and demanded, “Do you even know what this is?!” “Just some trash for the junk heap, I guess.” Caleb said, his face utterly indifferent. My patience snapped. I reached out and grabbed his collar, tightening my grip. The next second, Troy kicked me hard in the lower back. I cried out in pain and let go. I scrambled to my feet, ready to fight back, but Caleb and Troy ganged up on me, pinning me down. Caleb put his foot on my head and spat at me. “You useless leech, living off women! Today, I’m going to teach you a lesson!”

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At the wedding, Finn Carter, the struggling student my fiancée Seraphina had sponsored, burst in, screaming. “Seraphina! A hornet stung me… *down there*! What if I can never… be a man again?” Seraphina didn’t hesitate. She abandoned me and all our guests, ready to leave with Finn. I grabbed her arm, suggesting we finish the ceremony first, then find a doctor for him. She shoved me hard, sending me sprawling to the ground, her eyes blazing with furious rage. “Liam Miller! If you truly loved me, you wouldn’t be standing in my way right now!” With that, she dragged the injured Finn to a private room at the venue. When I finally got there, I saw Seraphina straddling Finn. Seraphina, who had once promised to save her precious virginity for our wedding day, glared at me. “Finn’s situation is so serious, how could I just stand by and do nothing?” “It’s just my first time, isn’t it? If you want it, I’ll just get it ‘fixed’ and give it to you later, okay?” 1 The mic on Seraphina’s wedding dress was still on. Groans, loud and unmistakable, pulsed from the wedding venue’s speakers. The guests’ eyes, a cruel mix of mockery and pity, burned into my face. I gripped my glass so tightly my knuckles turned white. I swallowed the bitter humiliation and the bitter drink in one gulp, my throat tightening. An hour later, Seraphina finally emerged from the room. Her face was flushed an unnatural red, and her million-dollar wedding dress was stained with flecks of blood. The crowd began to cheer, “Congratulations, Ms. Thorne, on your big moment!” someone jeered. “How was it? Finn a good lay, huh?” The words had barely left their lips when my married sister, Aubrey Sterling, walked into the venue, supporting her heavily pregnant belly. She scanned the room, a cold smirk on her face. “You’re certainly generous with your compliments! Why don’t you all be just as generous and offer up your own wives for everyone to sleep with?” She shot a venomous glare at Seraphina, then turned to me, trying to coax me away. “Liam, our family, the Millers, is old money, established. We don’t take wives who aren’t… untouched. Never have.” “Since Ms. Thorne is no longer pure, we can’t break our ancestors’ rules. The engagement is null and void. We’re going home!” As we walked out, whispers followed us every step of the way. “So what if Liam Miller is the richest man? He’s still being wrapped around a woman’s finger, completely played.” “Seraphina Thorne has some nerve, daring to slap Mr. Miller’s face in front of so many! This alliance between the Miller and Thorne families is probably toast…” I lost myself in thought for a moment. Years ago, my grandfather made a pact with Seraphina’s grandfather to repay a life-saving debt, sealing our families in an engagement. After my grandfather passed, my father tried several times to break it off, wanting me to marry a more suitable heiress from a prominent family. But I was dead set on marrying Seraphina, even going so far as to threaten drastic measures if I couldn’t. The Thorne family, leveraging the Millers’ influence, skyrocketed to success. Seraphina had cried, promising to save herself, her most precious gift, for our wedding night. But she had forgotten every single word she ever said, all for Finn Carter, the struggling student she’d sponsored for three years! “Liam Miller!” I snapped back to reality, my foot already halfway into the car. Seraphina rubbed her temples, her expression utterly impatient. “So what if my first time is gone? I promise you, after we’re married, I’ll make it up to you for the rest of your life!” The rest of my life? What once felt like a beautiful vow now just sounded absurd. Seeing my silence, Seraphina gave me a triumphant glance, then lifted her chin, commanding, “Liam, go buy me some condoms. After Finn takes his medicine, I need to test if he’s actually better.” I felt a chill run through my entire body. I couldn’t believe those words came out of Seraphina’s mouth. The next second, Finn, disheveled, stumbled out of the private room. He clutched Seraphina’s hand, whimpering pitifully, “Seraphina, sis, I feel so bad…” Instantly, Seraphina’s patience with me evaporated. She frowned in annoyance. “Liam Miller! If you don’t go buy them, then this wedding is truly off!” But I couldn’t even bring myself to spare Seraphina another glance. As soon as I got in the car, Aubrey slammed her phone down, gritting her teeth. The news about Seraphina and me had already spread like wildfire, headlines everywhere: 【Even the richest man can’t buy love: Shocking wedding day…】 【Top wedding in Northwood! Bride forgets to remove mic, intimate conversation with lover goes public…】 My heart sank deeper and deeper as I scrolled through the news. When Seraphina and I were dating, I never refused any of her requests. I thought, since she wanted to save her most precious ‘first’ for our wedding night, why should I object? But I never imagined that my repeated indulgence and concessions would lead to her and Finn sleeping together on our wedding day. She didn’t care at all what kind of media firestorm I would be thrown into. 2 The wedding scandal hit the trending topics that very day. The Miller family immediately moved to quash the stories, blacklisting major media outlets. Seeing the Millers’ wrath, the Thorne family frantically came knocking. “Liam, please calm down, she’s already apologized to us!” “Don’t worry, she definitely knows she was wrong. How about… we pick another good day and have the wedding?” Mr. Thorne’s words made me laugh, a bitter, humorless sound. “Pick another good day for what? For Seraphina and Finn?” The sarcasm was unmistakable. Mr. Thorne’s face fell, then he plastered on a fawning smile. “Liam, once you and Seraphina are married, I’ll put the Thorne family in your hands.” I looked down at him, a cold smirk on my face, and tossed a stack of acquisition contracts onto the table in front of him. “The Thorne family? What *are* they, truly?” Mr. Thorne was used to being buttered up, accustomed to flattery. He had never been so humiliated. Seeing he was about to speak again, Aubrey’s face hardened. She stepped forward. “Mr. Thorne, a woman who cheats before marriage will never enter our Miller family home. I suggest you think carefully before you speak!” Mr. and Mrs. Thorne’s faces instantly cycled through shades of green and white—panic, embarrassment, and fury all at once. I didn’t want to prolong the argument. I cut straight to the chase. “Out of respect for the long-standing friendship between our grandfathers, have Seraphina meet me at the courthouse tomorrow to finalize our divorce.” With that, I had my staff escort my former in-laws, who were still trying to plead their case, out of the house, and tossed all their gifts with them. The next day, I canceled all my appointments and waited at the courthouse from morning till night. Watching the endless stream of newlyweds coming and going, I found it hard to describe my feelings. I remembered the night before Seraphina and I got our marriage license; she was so excited she couldn’t sleep. We ended up waiting at the courthouse in the middle of the night, becoming the first couple to register their marriage that day. Seraphina couldn’t wait to show off to the entire world. Even now, I can still see the radiant smile on her face. But the image of Seraphina protecting Finn forcibly invaded my mind, making me feel like nothing but a clown. The shrill ring of my phone jolted me back. The moment I hit the video call button, I saw Finn straddling Seraphina, thrusting relentlessly. Finn’s voice was thick with lust. “Seraphina, sis, what we’re doing is wronging Liam. If you two really divorce because of me…” Seraphina cut him off with a soft gasp. “Don’t worry, Liam is just trying to scare me. He loves me so much, how could he ever divorce me?!” The obscene scene instantly drained all strength from my body, and my stomach churned. Finn even deliberately showed off the decor of our bridal suite, his eyes full of blatant provocation. My knuckles, gripping the phone, turned white. I had personally arranged every corner of that room, intending to give Seraphina the best possible experience for her ‘first time.’ I never imagined it would be dressed up for *them*! Suppressing the swirling emotions, I sneered, “Seraphina, you seem quite busy. Do you have time to invite me to observe?” But hearing my voice, Seraphina instantly panicked. She hastily pushed Finn off her, snatched the phone, and glared at me. “Liam Miller! Are you sick? Why are you calling me for no reason?!” I laughed, a bitter sound. “Seraphina, I have no interest in watching a live sex show. Didn’t your wonderful little brother call *me*?” 3 A flicker of doubt crossed Seraphina’s eyes as she looked at Finn. Seeing Finn lower his head in a show of false grievance, Seraphina couldn’t stand it. She turned to me and yelled, “Enough, Liam Miller! Who told you to threaten my parents with divorce? Finn was just trying to help me get back at you!” “Besides, before marriage, my body is my own! I can give my first time to *anyone* I choose!” I calmly cut her off. “You’re right. You have sovereignty over your body. You can give your first time to anyone you want. I can’t, and shouldn’t, have any complaints.” “And I have sovereignty over my mind. I can divorce anyone I want, and you can’t have any complaints either.” Seraphina froze, her face turning instantly, utterly pale. But quickly, she rolled her eyes and sneered, “Liam Miller, our engagement was decided by our grandfathers!” “Don’t you forget, you only secured your position as the heir to the wealthiest family because of our alliance!” Seeing my silence, she softened her tone, coaxing me. “As long as you don’t make things difficult for Finn, I’ll overlook what you said to my parents.” I watched Seraphina, her words twisting everything. Not only did she claim my current position was all thanks to her, but now she even wanted a future with Finn. My past affection and indulgence had become her leverage against me. One of them brazenly called to gloat, the other shamelessly threatened me with our past relationship. They really were a match made in hell! Aubrey, who had been listening for a while, finally couldn’t help but scoff, “Seraphina, as a woman, I’m truly ashamed of you!” “Liam is the sole male heir to the Miller family. He doesn’t *need* you to inherit! Do you honestly think I’d compete with my own brother for that?” Seraphina’s face reddened. I looked at her calmly, my expression composed. “Seraphina, we are completely over.” Hanging up the phone, I felt a strange sense of unreality. Years ago, the Thorne Corporation faced a financial crisis. Seraphina had cried until she fainted in front of me, begging me to save her family. I knelt before my parents for three days and three nights, eventually helping the Thorne family through their crisis. But I fell gravely ill afterward, and Seraphina nursed me back to health, practically living by my bedside for three months straight. I never thought she could change so drastically… I thought I had been very clear with Seraphina. Considering the long-standing ties between our families, I just wanted her to come and divorce me quietly; I didn’t want to make a scene. But when Aubrey and I arrived at the family estate, we found it swarming with people. Seraphina was holding Finn’s hand, giving interviews to the media. “Finn and I are truly in love. So what if Liam Miller is rich beyond measure, the wealthiest man? That can’t buy my love.” “If it weren’t for my grandfather saving his grandfather, there wouldn’t even be a Miller family today…” Seraphina continued her endless accusations. In her narrative, I had become the homewrecker, using money and status to interfere with her and Finn’s love. She even claimed that our Miller family had built its fortune by “sucking the blood” of their Thorne Corporation. And then, she said… “I just wanted to give my first time to the man I truly love. How can virginity be treated as an item for transaction? Isn’t a woman’s body her own?” Her words hit me like a hammer, a throbbing pain in my nerves. It was laughable, but more than that, it was deeply chilling. She claimed Finn was the man she loved most, Yet the person she officially married, with a license, was *me*. Hearing Seraphina pontificating to the reporters, Aubrey couldn’t take it. She immediately got out of the car and, cradling her belly, charged forward. Seeing us, the reporters erupted, swarming around us. Scandal and secrets often plague the wealthy. They were all scrambling, digging for every juicy detail. “Mr. Miller, are you truly the third party, as Ms. Thorne claims, interfering in their relationship?” Before I could speak, Aubrey, furious, burst out, “Did you all sleep through elementary school? You’re just taking Seraphina’s word for it? She’s clearly the one who cheated…” Aubrey’s words were cut short. *Smack!* Seraphina landed a vicious slap across Aubrey’s face. Aubrey, heavily pregnant, stumbled backward and fell to the ground, crying out in pain. But Seraphina, still enraged, continued to curse at her. “I’m your sister-in-law! And the future sole mistress of the Miller family!” “Why do you insist on stirring up trouble between your brother and me? And even fabricating videos to upload online!” Seraphina’s two consecutive accusations exploded like thunderclaps among the reporters. Their eyes widened. They immediately surged forward, pressing us with questions. “Mr. Miller, is what Ms. Thorne said true? Did your sister really upload that video?” “Is this about a family inheritance dispute? Ms. Thorne claims there would be no Miller family without her grandfather, and your sister uploaded a video to sabotage the family alliance. Does she also have designs on the inheritance? Mr. Miller, what’s your take?” Aubrey was pushed and jostled, collapsing onto the ground, blood quickly appearing between her legs. But Seraphina still lunged at Aubrey, and I roared, my eyes spitting fire. “Seraphina! Touch my sister one more time, and I will wipe the Thorne family off the face of the earth!” I glared fiercely at all the reporters, my emotions running high. “I don’t care what baseless rumors you intend to report, but the consequences of slandering and harming the Miller family, even the Thorne family cannot bear!” “If anything happens to my sister because you’re blocking our way, the Thorne family will pay dearly!” At my words, the reporters gasped, scrambling to clear a path. But Seraphina still stood directly in front of me. “Get out of the way!” I shoved her aside. Seeing Aubrey trembling in pain, I quickly pulled out my phone to dial 91But Seraphina slapped the phone right out of my hand, her tone still arrogant. “Liam Miller! You can’t leave! You and your sister *must* apologize to Finn today!” My eyes blazed with a sudden, overwhelming fury. “Get *out*!” “Liam Miller! Seraphina, sis, has already given you a way out; don’t be ungrateful!” Finn, emboldened by Seraphina’s presence, chimed in, mocking me. But before he could finish speaking, I had already summoned my bodyguards. Then I pointed at Finn, my gaze ice-cold. “Beat him to a pulp! For every injury my sister suffered, I’ll make him pay a hundredfold!”

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Blake Sterling, in front of everyone, presented the core “Digital Transformation” plan I had personally crafted for Reed Media, to Chloe Hayes. “Chloe isn’t just the love of my life; she’s the future hope of Reed Media. From today forward, she will take over from Alex Reed as the Group’s new CEO.” Silence blanketed the room. I stared at the perfect couple on stage: he, handsome and commanding; she, delicate and vulnerable. Behind them, on the massive screen, was the business plan I’d painstakingly written over three sleepless months, totaling over a million words. Chloe nestled into Blake’s embrace, her gaze landing precisely on me. “Alex, I’m so sorry. Blake and I truly love each other. We’ve been together for three years. My baby, they can’t grow up without a father.” Three years ago. That was exactly when I earned my Oxford PhD, brimming with ambition, returning home ready to conquer the world. Turns out, my life had been a joke since then. Blake Sterling’s eyes were like ice. “Alex Reed, your family is bankrupt. Reed Media is now *mine*. I need a wife who can help my career, not someone who’s all theoretical nonsense and no practical value.” “Look at yourself now – paranoid, suspicious, completely unstable. Chloe is kind, pure. She’s the one who truly belongs by my side.” “Mentally unstable.” *Huh.* What a convenient label to slap on me. Before I could even speak, Chloe suddenly gasped, her body dramatically slumping towards me. Blake lunged forward, catching her securely in his arms. Then he glared at me like I was a madwoman, roaring, “Alex Reed! Are you out of your mind? Chloe is pregnant, and you’d lay a hand on her!” I stood rooted to the spot, not moving an inch. But everyone around me had already condemned me, nailing me to the pillar of shame as the “evil ex-fiancée who pushed a pregnant woman.” Flashbulbs popped like crazy, reporters, like sharks scenting blood, shoved microphones into my face. “Ms. Reed, did you truly push her out of jealousy?” “We heard your mental state has deteriorated since your family’s bankruptcy, is that true?” “How do you feel about Mr. Sterling and Ms. Hayes’ relationship?” Blake held Chloe tightly, letting the vicious accusations and cold cameras crucify me. In that moment, I didn’t cry. All my tears flowed back inward, hardening into the coldest ice. I watched the phony horror and concern on that repulsive pair’s faces, and the contemptuous, gloating looks from the crowd. The docile, kind Alex Reed of the past twenty-seven years, the one who believed in love and friendship, was utterly destroyed by them in that moment. From her ashes rose a brand new me. Only one thought burned in my mind. I wanted them to pay, in blood.

I was “escorted” out of the ballroom. Two security guards “supported” me, one on each side, their posture polite, their grip unyielding. Blake was afraid I, the “madwoman,” would stay and ruin his little show. I was dumped outside the hotel entrance. The evening breeze hit me, sobering me up considerably. My phone vibrated wildly in my pocket. I didn’t even need to look to know what the notifications would say. #EliteScandal: Heiress Alex Reed Suffers Breakdown, Causes Scene at Gala, Pushes Pregnant Friend# #BlakeSterlingChloeHayes: Fairytale Love, True Feelings Revealed in Adversity# #PerfectHeiressAlexReedPersonaCrumbles# *Huh*, what a brilliant “public execution” strategy. They understood the power of the media perfectly. First, they branded me “mentally unstable,” so anything I said or did afterward would be dismissed as a madwoman’s ramblings. Ruthless, professional. Fitting, considering they stole my plan and then applied it so cleverly. I didn’t go home. That so-called home had already been stolen from me. I hailed a taxi on the street and gave the address of a quiet, older apartment complex. It was a small apartment I’d bought with my first scholarship check during college, registered solely in my name. Thankfully, I’d left myself one last fallback. The driver glanced at me in the rearview mirror, his eyes a mix of sympathy and gossip. “Miss, you’re… Ms. Reed from the news, aren’t you?” I said nothing. He sighed to himself. “Ah, these rich family dramas, they’re truly messy. That guy isn’t much better, looks decent on the outside.” I gave a faint smile, not responding. Messy? It was about to get a whole lot messier. Back at the apartment, I stripped off the six-figure gown, tossed it into the trash, and took a long, hot shower. The warm water rinsed my body, and the confusion from my mind. I had no time to collapse, no time to cry. Tears were the ultimate sign of weakness. From the moment they pushed me off that cliff, this war had begun. My only weapon wasn’t the Reed family name, nor the pitiful balance in my bank account. It was the knowledge in my brain, the very “theoretical nonsense” Blake had mocked. Oxford University, PhD in Media and Communications. I had spent seven years learning how to shape public opinion, create trends, twist narratives, and redefine perceptions. Before, I treated these as academic concepts. Now, they were my weapons of war. I dried my hair and dragged out a dusty box from under my bed. Inside was an old laptop and several encrypted satellite phones. I’d prepared this gear during my studies for sensitive fieldwork in certain regions. The laptop booted up, the screen flickering to life. I expertly logged into several global social platforms and deep web forums, activating seven or eight anonymous accounts I’d registered long ago. These accounts didn’t have huge followings, but each one represented a contact I’d built over the years across the globe, through my professional expertise and personal charisma. There were renowned investigative journalists, top-tier hackers, and classmates who were now executives at multinational PR firms. In the past, we discussed theories and case studies. Now, I was going to talk to them about business. I didn’t immediately expose Blake and Chloe’s dirty laundry. That would be foolish. Given that they’d already painted me as a “crazy woman,” any leak from me would be dismissed as “a madwoman’s revenge.” To trap your prey, first, you need to make them drop their guard. Then, you weave a net they can’t escape. I needed leverage, a legal anchor to pry open the entire situation. My gaze fell on an old news article on my laptop screen. *Industry Conscience or Business Idiot? Star Lawyer Julian Thorne Expelled from Top Law Firm ‘Revelation Legal’ for Refusing to Participate in Hostile Takeover of Reed Media.* The date was just a week before my “bankruptcy.” *Interesting.* Turns out, I wasn’t the only one who’d been betrayed. The enemy of my enemy is my friend. I picked up a satellite phone and dialed a number. The call connected. A clear, cautious male voice answered. “Who is this?” “Mr. Thorne,” I began, my voice as calm as if discussing the weather. “This is Alex Reed. I think we have a common enemy, and perhaps we could discuss how to send him straight to hell.”

Julian Thorne arranged to meet me at an unassuming coffee shop. He was leaner than in his photos, his features sharp, his eyes behind his glasses like scalpels. A sugar-free Americano sat untouched before him, his entire demeanor radiating an unapproachable bitterness. “Ms. Reed, are you looking for me to overturn a verdict?” He cut straight to the chase, no pleasantries. I shook my head, taking a sip of my lemon water. “No, overturning it is too slow. I’m here to propose a partnership. Together, we’ll start a new company.” Julian’s eyebrow twitched; he clearly hadn’t expected that. “A new company?” “Yes,” I leaned forward, meeting his gaze directly. “A firm specializing in crisis PR and legal warfare. I handle media strategy, you handle legal support. Our first client will be myself. Our first job will be to bury Blake Sterling and Chloe Hayes, along with all the capital investors behind them.” My knuckles tapped lightly on the table, a subconscious habit when I was thinking. *Tap, tap, tap…* Steady and unhurried. Julian watched me, his gaze analytical, assessing. “Ms. Reed, what makes you think you can win? You’re disgraced, you have nothing. Blake Sterling, on the other hand, has the entire Sterling family behind him, plus all the capital giants who profited from this hostile takeover.” “Because I understand the rules of the game better than they do.” I smiled, though no warmth reached my eyes. “They thought by ruining my reputation, I’d lose. On the contrary, when someone’s been dragged through the mud and has nothing left to lose, that’s when they become truly terrifying.” “Mr. Thorne, you were kicked out of Revelation Legal and blacklisted from the industry because of your professional integrity. Are you willing to accept that?” I looked into his eyes, asking each word deliberately. His hand, under the table, subtly clenched. I knew I’d hit a nerve. “Blake Sterling’s hostile takeover of Reed Media, using illegal means, isn’t without legal loopholes. It’s just that neither of us had the evidence at the time.” I upped the ante. “But public opinion can be the knife that cuts through that veil. If we can channel public outrage and force regulatory bodies to intervene, you’ll have a chance to reclaim everything that’s yours in court.” Julian was silent for a long time, so long that his coffee grew cold. Finally, he looked up, his eyes no longer skeptical but alight with a certain kind of fire. “I need to see your plan.” “The plan has already begun.” I pushed my phone across the table to him. On the screen was a post I’d made with one of my anonymous burner accounts on a popular women’s forum overseas. The title: *I Was Jointly Betrayed by My Husband and Best Friend, Went from Billionaire Heiress to Being Kicked Out. What Should I Do?* In the post, I didn’t name names. I used a fictional identity to tearfully recount the story of a “vilified victim.” The protagonist was portrayed as kind, naive, giving her all for love, only to be betrayed by those she trusted most, her family’s fortune stolen, and then smeared as “crazy.” I cleverly wove in every single thing Blake and Chloe had done to me, subtly disguised in this fictional narrative. But I made sure to mention nothing of commercial competition, only emotional betrayal. Because I knew the public’s interest in complex business disputes paled in comparison to their hunger for moral judgment of “cheaters and home-wreckers.” This post, in just a few hours, was translated into multiple languages and spread virally across major social platforms. Sympathy, outrage, condemnation… Countless comments poured in, netizens globally demanding justice for this fictional “me.” “This is the first step,” I said to Julian, retrieving my phone. “Before the official war begins, I need to seize the moral high ground and firmly label myself as the ‘victim.’” “I want the whole world to believe that a pitiful woman is suffering a grave injustice. Once that emotional foundation is laid, when I finally drop Blake Sterling and Chloe Hayes’ names, the explosion of public opinion will be truly devastating.” Julian looked at me, his expression transformed. If before it was scrutiny, now it was shock, even a hint of awe. He probably hadn’t imagined a woman, after such a colossal blow, could remain so calm, rational, and even possess a nearly cruel precision in orchestrating her revenge. “I’m in,” he finally said, his voice hoarse but resolute. “What do you need me to do?” “It’s simple,” I pushed a pre-prepared list across to him. “Help me uncover three things.” “First, an irrefutable chain of evidence proving Chloe Hayes stole my plan, including the earliest time she accessed it and email records of her leaking it to Blake Sterling.” “Second, all financial records of Blake Sterling misusing company funds to buy her homes, cars, and luxury items during their affair.” “Third, and most crucially, the names of all the capital groups involved in that hostile takeover, besides the Sterling family. I want a complete list of every single one of them.” I paused, adding a final sentence. “I want Blake Sterling to know who he truly offended for the sake of one woman.”

Over the next month, I lived like a ghost. By day, I holed myself up in my small apartment, weaving my web across the digital world like a precise machine. I operated over a dozen anonymous social media accounts, each with a different identity and nationality, posting carefully designed content daily. Some accounts were radical feminists, railing against injustice in emotional betrayals; some were rational financial bloggers, analyzing the collapse of business ethics; others were gentle emotional support channels, continuing the serialized story of the “poor woman” and garnering immense sympathy. These accounts seemed unconnected, yet they were like countless tiny streams, converging into a single powerful emotion across the internet – rage against “cheaters and home-wreckers.” I didn’t mention Blake Sterling or Chloe Hayes by name, but through this fabricated story, their public image became increasingly clear, increasingly detestable in the public consciousness. This was a classic application of “agenda-setting” theory. Before igniting a topic, first establish its framework and tone in public discourse. And Blake and Chloe were completely oblivious. They were basking in the glow of their victory. Chloe, sporting a growing baby bump, frequently gave interviews to major financial media outlets, presenting herself as an “inspirational goddess.” In these interviews, she glorified my “Digital Transformation” plan, portraying herself as a brilliant, fate-defying business prodigy. She even, in one interview, feigned “fond remembrance” of me. “Alex was actually very talented, but unfortunately, she was too extreme in her personality, too stubborn… Sigh, I truly feel for her.” The more she performed, the calmer I became. I downloaded all her interview videos, analyzing them frame by frame, comparing every word she said about the plan to my original document on my computer, annotating everything. These would all become exhibits in court. Meanwhile, Blake was busy with a massive purge within Reed Media, installing his own people in all key positions as the new owner. He was thriving in business, and even more so in his personal life. He hosted a lavish engagement party for Chloe, sending invitations across the entire upper crust of society. Photos of the party, all over Ins, showed Chloe’s pigeon-egg-sized pink diamond blinding everyone. I looked at those photos, feeling absolutely nothing. *Dance, dance your hearts out.* The higher you jump, the harder you’ll fall. Julian Thorne’s efficiency was remarkable. Using his past connections at Revelation Legal and some less-than-above-board channels, he quickly sent me everything I needed, one by one, to my encrypted email. Chloe and Blake’s email exchanges were irrefutable proof. She first saw my plan one afternoon three years ago, in my home study. She’d made an excuse to wait for me, and then copied all the files onto a miniature USB drive. Blake’s evidence of embezzling company funds was even more shocking. The luxury mansion he bought for Chloe in a prime downtown location, the three sports cars registered in her name, even the pink diamond on her finger – every single penny came from Reed Media’s accounts. Most critically, the list of capital groups involved in the hostile takeover. I stared at the long list of familiar names: old Sterling family associates, former rivals of the Reed family, and even a few “uncles” and “aunts” my father had once implicitly trusted. *Good, very good.* One clean sweep, made things easier. Everything was ready, just waiting for the opportune moment. A moment that would allow this public opinion storm to unleash its maximum impact. Soon, that moment arrived. Reed Media announced that it would hold its annual shareholder meeting at the end of the month, simultaneously hosting a grand press conference to officially launch its new “Digital Transformation Strategy” to the global market. The star, naturally, would be the new CEO, Chloe Hayes. I looked at the announcement and smiled. They were eager to declare their stolen fruits to the world, to firmly cement their false accomplishments. *Perfect.* The judgment, of course, had to take place on the grandest stage to be truly impactful. I sent Julian a message. “The time is now. Prepare to reel them in.” A week before the shareholder meeting, I fired the first shot. The target was Chloe Hayes’ most prized “talented woman” persona. I sent a carefully compiled anonymous tip to *Business Deep Throat*, the nation’s top industry media known for its in-depth investigative reporting. Attached to the email were two documents.

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Julian Sterling, the A-list darling of our city’s elite, and my fiancé – at least on paper – was planning a big surprise for me tonight at the charity gala. In my last life, that surprise was him publicly dumping me and then proudly parading my stepsister, Chloe Hayes, as his new love. I cried, I threw tantrums, and in the end, they teamed up to frame me. They slapped me with labels like “fake socialite” and “business fraud,” tearing me down from my peak as a top streamer. I crashed and burned, utterly shattered and ruined. They called me greedy and vain, said I was jealous of my sister. Even my own parents stepped forward, pointing fingers and screaming, “You ungrateful snake! We should have disowned you ages ago!” Then, right there in public, they announced they were cutting all ties with me. Finally, I jumped from the city’s tallest abandoned skyscraper. When I opened my eyes again, I was back. Back to the moments just before the gala began. A chill ran down my wrist, and a surge of information flooded my mind. [Truth Recall System Activated.] [Ability: Recall real action records of any designated target within the last seven days.]

Instinctively, I stared at my reflection in the mirror and silently commanded, “Activate.” My vision blurred for a split second. I saw “myself” being thrown into a viral scandal three days ago, drowned in a torrent of online hate, all orchestrated by Chloe Hayes and Julian Sterling. I watched Julian laugh as he told Chloe, “Cassie is too naive. Millions of followers and she doesn’t know how to monetize them – what a waste. Once I’ve squeezed every last drop of her influence and connections, I’ll kick her to the curb.” I saw my own parents, bowing and scraping as they accepted a million-dollar check from Julian, assuring him, “Don’t worry, Mr. Sterling. We know what to do. That rebellious daughter? We’ve wanted to disown her for ages!” So that was it. Every betrayal, every calculated move, all had a price tag. I trembled with rage, then a smile slowly spread across my face. Good. It saved me from holding onto any more unrealistic fantasies about “blood ties.” I lowered my gaze, meticulously wiping my phone screen with my thumb until it gleamed like new. This was my bread and butter. And my weapon of revenge. Julian Sterling, Chloe Hayes, and my dearest “family.” The “surprise” you gave me in my last life? This time, I’m giving you an “extra special gift,” doubled. Clutching my custom handbag, my ten-centimeter heels clicking rhythmically, I walked back into the glittering, bustling ballroom. Bright lights, clinking glasses, and lively chatter filled the air. The moment I stepped inside, every eye in the room fixated on me. “Cassie Hayes is here! No wonder she’s a top streamer with millions of followers, that aura…” “Why is she alone? Where’s Mr. Sterling?” “Shhh, I heard there’s big news tonight.” Ignoring the whispers, I walked straight to the main table. Julian Sterling stood there, a champagne flute in his hand, surrounded by a cluster of privileged young men from influential families. He saw me, and a flicker of almost imperceptible distaste crossed his eyes, but his face still wore that signature, smooth and charming smile. “Cassie, you’re here.” Beside him, Chloe Hayes, dressed in a white chiffon gown from the same designer as my haute couture dress but with a more “innocent” cut, glanced at me timidly. Then, like a startled fawn, she shrank back behind Julian. Oh, a delicate little “pure” act. I wasn’t in the mood for their drama. I cut straight to the chase: “Julian, didn’t you say we were announcing our wedding date tonight? Why haven’t we started yet?” Instantly, all eyes in the room zeroed in on us. The Sterling family elders, seated at the head table, exchanged a subtle frown. Julian’s father, Mr. Sterling, the chairman of the Sterling Group, furrowed his brows. “Julian, what’s going on? Aren’t you and Cassie supposed to announce your engagement tonight?” Julian put down his glass, gave Chloe a reassuring look, then cleared his throat and picked up a microphone. Here it came. The nightmare of my last life, about to replay. “Distinguished guests, dear friends, thank you for coming tonight.” He paused, then gazed adoringly at Chloe, who stood behind him. “Taking this opportunity, I want to announce something. The woman I, Julian Sterling, truly love, is Chloe Hayes.” “My engagement to Cassie Hayes is officially called off, effective today!” BOOM—the entire room erupted. “Holy sh*t? Engagement called off?” “What the hell? A public breakup? How utterly humiliating for Cassie Hayes!” “Mr. Sterling is in love with his stepsister? Ugh, such drama in high society.” The spotlight *whooshed* off Julian and landed squarely on my face. Countless gazes, laced with pity, schadenfreude, and disdain, stabbed into me like daggers. My parents sprang out of their seats immediately, not to defend me, but to rush to the Sterling family, faces plastered with smiles. “Mr. Sterling, Mrs. Sterling, what…what exactly is going on?” my mother asked frantically. My father, on the other hand, wore a face contorted with rage, but his glare wasn’t for Julian; it was for me. “Cassie Hayes! Have you done something to offend Julian again? Apologize to him right now!” Hah. My wonderful father. Julian raised a hand, signaling for silence. “This isn’t Cassie’s fault, it’s just that we’re not compatible.” His words sounded pretty, but he pulled Chloe to his side, protectively wrapping his arm around her. “Chloe is pure and kind, unlike some people who treat their live streams like a performance and their fans like cash cows, reeking of nothing but money. I cannot marry such a hypocritical woman and tarnish the Sterling family name.” With those words, he immediately labeled me. Hypocritical. Reeking of money. In his arms, Chloe perfectly revealed half her tear-streaked face. “Sister, please don’t blame Julian, it’s all my fault…I shouldn’t have fallen for him, but we truly love each other, please, just let us be together…” Act. She was a damn good actress. I looked at the two-timing bastards and smiled. I picked up a glass of red wine from the table and slowly walked toward them. Under the horrified gazes of everyone present, I didn’t splash either of them. Instead, I raised the glass, looking out at the entire room, and at the media cameras lurking in the shadows, with a faint smile. “Are you done talking?” “Because if you are, it’s my turn.” I pulled out my phone, unlocked it, and opened my live-streaming app. “Since Mr. Sterling and Ms. Hayes like to air their dirty laundry for the whole internet to see, then as a ‘top streamer’ with millions of followers, it would be terribly unprofessional of me not to live stream, wouldn’t it?” The moment the live stream went online, the viewer count exploded exponentially. “Holy sh*t! Front row! What’s happening? Goddess Cassie live-streaming at the gala?” “Title: Century Breakup Live Stream? So much tea!” “Who are those two-timing bastards opposite her? Julian Sterling and Chloe Hayes? I just came from the trending scandal, is the queen herself getting involved?” Julian’s face finally changed.

“Cassie Hayes, are you insane? Turn off that phone!” Julian’s voice carried a hint of suppressed fury. I wiggled my phone, and the rapidly scrolling comments on the screen made his pupils constrict. “Insane?” I smirked. “I’m perfectly lucid. Mr. CEO, aren’t you the expert on monetizing traffic? With such massive drama, how else will you hit your KPIs without a live stream?” My father’s face turned purple with rage. He pointed at me and roared, “You, you rebellious girl! Turn that off right now! You’re disgracing our family!” “Disgrace?” I smiled even wider. “Dad, when you just accepted that million-dollar check from Julian, why didn’t you think about our family’s ‘honor’ then?” With one sentence, my father’s face went from purple to white. My mother panicked too, rushing forward to snatch my phone. “Cassie, what nonsense are you spewing! What check? Are you out of your mind from shock?” I lightly sidestepped her, dodging her grab. “Easy, Mom. The real show is just beginning.” Chloe, seeing the situation going south, immediately buried herself in Julian’s arms, tears streaming down her face. “Julian…it’s all my fault. Sister must be acting this way because of me…she didn’t mean it, please don’t be angry with her.” Julian lovingly embraced her, then turned to me, his gaze as cold as ice. “Cassie Hayes, you’re clearly ungrateful. All your so-called personas have been stripped bare! Who are you trying to fool with your ‘socialite’ act? You’re nothing but a gold-digger who built a fake image to con fans out of money!” “Let me tell you this right now, a woman like you isn’t fit to tie my shoes!” “Oh?” I calmly and deliberately wiped my phone screen, facing the live camera, a cool and unbothered smile on my face. “Since Mr. Sterling put it that way, then let’s talk about who’s the gold-digger, and who’s truly ‘dirty’.” I activated [Truth Recall]. Target: Chloe Hayes. Instantly, a series of images flashed through my mind. The smile on my lips grew wider. “Chloe Hayes, my dear sister. You told your followers that all your design works are brimming with creativity, a reflection of your pure heart, right?” Chloe froze, not knowing what trick I was pulling, and could only nod tearfully. “Sister, I…I just love design. I never meant to compete with you for anything.” “Don’t be silly,” I interrupted her. “As your older sister, I simply *must* promote you.” I faced the live camera and slowly began to speak. “Three days ago, at 2:15 PM, you met an independent designer named Marcus Green at ‘Whispering Winds’ Café. You paid him fifty thousand dollars to buy out a set of jewelry designs called ‘Starlight Dream,’ then immediately turned around and posted on your Ins, claiming you stayed up three nights designing it as a ‘surprise’ for Julian.” “Am I right?” Chloe’s face went paper-white in an instant. She stared at me in horror, her lips trembling. “You…you’re lying! I don’t even know anyone named Marcus Green!” “Don’t know him?” I laughed. “Well, Marcus Green has a burn scar on his left wrist, from when you accidentally spilled coffee on him. He even smiled and said it was fine, that it was an honor to be scalded by the ‘Miss Hayes.’ He was so loyal to you, you really shouldn’t disown him now.” The live stream comments went wild. “Holy sh*t! Plagiarism? Seriously?” “She’s got all the details! Time, place, person, even a scar! If this is made up, I’ll eat my own shoe standing on my head!” “@WhisperingWindsCafe, we need the surveillance! @DesignerMarcusGreen, get out here and confront her!” Julian’s face also completely darkened. He wasn’t a fool; he knew that for me to be so specific, it couldn’t be a baseless rumor. He looked at Chloe, a hint of scrutiny entering his eyes. Chloe was on the verge of tears, clutching his arm desperately. “Julian, don’t listen to her! She’s jealous of me, she’s trying to frame me!” Just then, my mother, my dearest mother, rushed forward again. This time, she didn’t try to snatch my phone. Instead, with a heartbroken and furious tone, she screamed at everyone, and at my live camera: “Enough! Cassie Hayes! How much longer are you going to cause a scene?!” “We didn’t want you to marry Julian, not because we favor Chloe, but because you…you’re simply not pure!” “At such a young age, you messed around with those questionable influencers and shady businessmen. You’ve contracted an incurable disease! We were afraid you’d harm Julian, that’s why we were forced to resort to this drastic measure!” That blow was even more vicious than the public breakup. More toxic than accusing me of being hypocritical and materialistic. This was meant to utterly obliterate my social standing. The entire room fell into a dead silence. The live stream comments also paused for a second. Then, they exploded with even greater fury.

The way people around me looked at me changed instantly. It was as if I were a carrier of disease, and everyone recoiled, creating distance. My mother’s move, pulling the rug out from under me, was truly brilliant. She thought this would force me to turn off the live stream and back down. Too bad. I curved my lips into a smile, pulled a portable charger from my handbag, and calmly and deliberately connected it to my phone. “Mom, are you talking about *these* men?” I tapped open my phone gallery, displaying the high-definition footage I had just captured using the system’s recall function. I held my phone screen up to the live camera, swiping through the pictures one by one. Even though they were just screenshots from a mental recall, the clarity blew any paparazzi shot out of the water. “Chloe Hayes, I’ll ask you one more time. Do you recognize these men?” The photos showed Chloe intimately embracing different men. There were investors in tailored suits, muscular gym trainers, and even a lead singer of an underground band with bright green hair. The locations varied from luxury hotel suites to the backseats of cars, to dimly lit bar booths. The poses…were varied and too explicit to watch. These were all photos that had only been leaked by paparazzi in my previous life, *after* I died. At the time, Chloe had already been championed by Julian as the epitome of pure innocence. When these photos came out, the entire internet was stunned. Julian, to protect her reputation, spent a fortune buying back all the photos, then blamed the scandal on a rival actress. Didn’t expect this, Julian. Your paid-for black history? Here it is, free and in high-definition replay, courtesy of me. “No! This isn’t me!” Chloe went wild, rushing forward to snatch my phone. “These photos are fake! They’re doctored! Cassie Hayes, you’re so malicious, you used your own face to Photoshop onto mine just to ruin me!” Hah, blame-shifting. I calmly pulled my phone back, then took a small USB drive from my bag. “Inside this, I have the original video footage I ‘accidentally’ recorded during the recall… oh, sorry, during my ‘accidental’ filming.” “Since you claim they’re photoshopped, why don’t we connect it to the ballroom’s big screen right now? We can invite the media and technical experts present to verify it together, and see who’s really lying?” Of course, I had no original video footage. The USB drive was empty. But that didn’t matter. What mattered was Chloe’s guilty conscience. Her face instantly turned paper-white. She clutched Julian’s arm desperately, trembling all over. “Julian…she’s doing this on purpose, she just wants to humiliate me…Even if they’re fake, I don’t want those dirty things to be seen by everyone…” Julian protectively pulled her into his embrace, then looked at me, his gaze chillingly cold. “Cassie Hayes, do you really think I’ll be afraid of you if you use such despicable tactics to ruin Chloe’s reputation? Give it up!” “My mother said it! You’re the one with the messy private life! Don’t make a scene here!” I sneered. “Alright, since you all insist it’s me, then let’s go to the hospital for a check-up right now. Do you dare?” Chloe’s breath hitched. Her nails dug so hard into Julian’s arm, they almost broke his skin. “I…” She stammered, unable to form words. Julian made the decision for her. “We’ll go! I’ll make sure you lose so completely that you can’t say a word!” He called over their family doctor, a professional-looking middle-aged woman. I shrugged nonchalantly, following the female doctor into a private room. Ten minutes later, the doctor emerged, shaking her head at Julian. “Mr. Sterling, Ms. Hayes is perfectly healthy, no issues whatsoever.” I looked at Chloe, calmly composed. “Sister, your turn.” Chloe’s face flushed crimson. Her eyes darted away, and she slowly backed away, step by step. Just as everyone was waiting to see her embarrassed, she suddenly clutched her lower abdomen and dropped a bombshell. “I can’t be examined! Because…because I’m already pregnant with Julian’s baby!” The words hung in the air, and the entire room froze. I feigned a gasp, covering my mouth, but the amusement in my eyes was practically overflowing.

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For ten years, I was Cassandra’s secret partner, her hidden companion through thick and thin. From the time she had nothing to commanding a multi-billion dollar empire. In the end, she died in my arms, a victim of late-stage stomach cancer. At the funeral, everyone praised me as a loyal and honorable man, silently by her side even after her rise to fame. But only I knew that, in her final moments, gripping my hand, her lips whispered the name of Liam, the true love of her life. She left me with just one sentence: “Dean, in your next life, please don’t find me again. I could never give you the name you deserved.” “If there’s an afterlife, I truly wish… I could marry Liam.” I mourned for a full week, my heart turned to ash, and consumed by sorrow, I wasted away. When I opened my eyes again, I was back ten years ago, at our university graduation party. She stood there, publicly confessing her unrequited love to Liam, the campus golden boy, only to be rejected. Then, with tear-rimmed eyes, she approached me in the corner, asking, “Dean, didn’t you say you liked me? Let’s be together.” I looked at the fresh tear stains beneath her eyes and smiled. Then, right in front of her, I deleted all her contacts. “Cassandra, I don’t like you anymore.” Liam’s discards? Not interested, not anymore.

The air seemed to freeze. Cassandra stared, her face twisting in shock and humiliation. She had never imagined that I, Dean, who had always been at her beck and call, would ever refuse her. “What did you say?” Her voice was hoarse, as if she couldn’t believe her own ears. The murmuring of our classmates died down. All eyes were on us, filled with a thirst for drama. After all, my affection for Cassandra was an open secret across the entire campus. For four long years, I had loved her like a fool, a walking punchline. Meeting her gaze, I repeated my words, slowly and clearly: “I said, I don’t like you anymore.” Then I held up my phone. On the screen, her deleted SnapChat contact screamed at her, a brutal slap to the face. The red exclamation mark was particularly glaring. “Did you get it, Cassandra?” The blood vessels in her eyes instantly burst, and she snatched my wrist, her grip alarmingly strong, her nails almost digging into my skin. “Dean, have you played enough of your little game of playing hard to get?!” “Don’t think I’ll even glance at you if you use such pathetic tricks!” A sharp pain shot through my wrist, strikingly similar to the way she had clutched me in her dying moments in my past life. Then, she had used her last ounce of strength to beg for my forgiveness for her inability to love. Now, she was using all her strength to accuse me of not loving her. The irony was crushing. I didn’t struggle. A sarcastic smirk curved my lips. “Cassandra, have you forgotten? Just a minute ago, you were begging Liam to be with you.” “And now, you’re coming to me, your backup plan?” “What makes you think I, Dean, should wait around for you?” “Wait for you to be rejected by someone else, just so I can pick up your unwanted leftovers?” Cassandra’s face instantly paled, and the strength in her grip loosened. I seized the opportunity to pull my hand free, rubbing my reddened wrist. Without another look at her, I turned and walked away. Behind me, her low roar, thick with suppressed fury, followed. “Dean, you’ll regret this! You’ll come back begging for me!” My steps didn’t falter. Regret? In my past life, I sacrificed ten years of my youth for her, accompanying her from nothing to a multi-billion dollar fortune, only to receive, in the end, a wish to marry Liam. I had already tasted all the regret this life and the next could offer. This time, the one who should regret, Cassandra, is you. Walking out of the noisy auditorium, the evening breeze brushed my face, carrying a hint of coolness. I took a deep breath. The crushing weight that had pressed on my chest for a decade finally seemed to crack. My eyes inexplicably stung, and a single tear silently traced a path down my cheek. Not for her, but for my pathetic, foolish past self. Back in the dorm, it was a complete mess. After the graduation frenzy, all that remained was the hollow quiet of empty rooms. Silently, I began to pack my things, unearthing one by one the objects connected to Cassandra. The inexpensive cufflinks she had carelessly given me, which I had cherished for ten years. The first draft of her business plan, which I had burned the midnight oil for three nights, helping her refine and perfect. And the first, and only, gift she ever gave me: a copy of *One Hundred Years of Solitude*. On the flyleaf, she had written: “For a soul as solitary as yours.” I thought it was a romantic gesture, a sign we were kindred spirits. Later, I learned she had given Liam a copy of *Love in the Time of Cholera*. That was the true love of her life. I was just a convenient distraction for her loneliness.

I found a cardboard box and carefully placed all these items, remnants of my decade of quiet, self-sacrificing devotion, inside. Finally, I struck a match and dropped it in. The flames instantly leaped up, engulfing the yellowed papers and faded objects. The firelight danced on my face as I watched, impassively, as ten years of our tangled history burned to ash. My phone rang abruptly. It was an unknown number. I casually answered. A commanding yet familiar voice came from the other end. “Dean, you’ve graduated. It’s time to come home.” It was my mother. In my past life, to protect Cassandra’s pride, I had lied, telling her I was from a regular, middle-class family, just like her, needing to work hard to make my own way. I rejected everything my mother had arranged, choosing instead to squeeze into a tiny, cramped apartment with Cassandra, eating the cheapest ramen, dreaming of our future. But after she achieved success, she found me wasn’t sophisticated enough to match her new world, unable to further her burgeoning empire like someone from a wealthy background like Liam. I clenched my phone, my throat thick with emotion. “Mom, I’m sorry.” Silence stretched for a moment on the other end, followed by a sigh. “Silly boy, what do you have to apologize for to family? Pack your bags. I’ll send the driver to pick you up.” After hanging up, I looked out the window. Dawn was breaking. Meanwhile, Cassandra, in a corner of the graduation party, was deeply intoxicated. The alcohol numbed her senses, yet my resolute face became clearer and clearer in her mind. She couldn’t believe it. She couldn’t believe that Dean, who loved her to the bone, would truly leave. He must be throwing a tantrum, waiting for her to coax him back. She fumbled for her phone, her blurry, alcohol-hazed eyes finding my familiar profile picture. She typed a message: “Dean, I was wrong. Let’s talk.” The next second, the red exclamation mark screamed at her, a brutal slap to the face. Cassandra instantly sobered, a wave of unprecedented panic surging through her chest. He… he really didn’t want her anymore? A week later, I stood beneath the towering skyscraper of Victoria Corp., taking a deep breath. This was a top-tier investment firm, a place I wouldn’t have dared to dream of in my past life. Because Cassandra had said she didn’t like driven, career-focused men; she preferred gentle, home-loving men. So, I had given up the chance to enter a top investment firm and instead took an admin assistant job at a small company, just to have more time to cater to her every need. Looking back now, it was utterly ridiculous. The interview went smoothly. My professional capabilities and excellent academic record from university impressed the interviewers, who nodded frequently. The final round was with the CEO herself. As I pushed open the office door, I paused slightly at the sight of the woman seated behind the desk. She wore a perfectly tailored black suit, exuding an air of cool sophistication and noble grace. With piercing, deep-set eyes and striking red lips, she was captivating. She was looking down at my resume, her long, elegant fingers tapping lightly on the desk. It was her, Victoria. In my past life, I had met her once. At Cassandra’s company IPO celebration, she had attended as the most important investor. At that time, as Cassandra’s assistant, I could only stand in the most inconspicuous corner. When Victoria came over to toast, Cassandra hadn’t even bothered to introduce me. It was Victoria who had subtly raised her glass to me, saying in a calm voice, “Mr. Dean, you’ve worked hard.” Just one sentence, but it was the only respect I received in that entire extravagant feast, which belonged solely to Cassandra. I never thought that in this life, we would meet again in such a way. Victoria lifted her eyes, her calm gaze resting on me, as if she didn’t recognize me at all.

“Dean?” Victoria spoke, her voice clear and pleasant. “Why Victoria Corp.?” I steadied myself and answered her questions with composure. The interview concluded. She closed my resume and said indifferently, “Come in tomorrow to complete your onboarding.” A wave of joy swelled in my heart. Just as I was about to thank her, the office door was roughly shoved open from the outside. “Dean!” Cassandra stormed in, looking much more haggard, her eyes bloodshot. She grabbed me, her eyes red, and demanded, “Why are you avoiding me? Not answering calls, not replying to messages, what exactly do you want?” She had found me here. I frowned, trying to shake off her hand. “Cassandra, we have nothing to do with each other anymore. Please let go.” “Nothing to do with each other?” She laughed, a self-deprecating sound, as if she’d heard the biggest joke. “Dean, you were with me for four years. Now you’re saying we have nothing to do with each other?” “Did you find someone else? Is that why you were so eager to dump me?” Her words grew increasingly nasty, and my face hardened. Just then, a cool voice came from beside us. “Miss, please release my employee.” Victoria had risen at some point. She walked to my side, her gaze calmly fixed on Cassandra. Her tone was level, but carried an undeniable authority. Cassandra froze, subconsciously releasing her grip. Victoria naturally shielded me protectively behind her. “If I recall correctly, at the graduation party, you were the one who was rejected.” “And now you’re back, relentlessly harassing him? This persistent harassment isn’t exactly classy, is it?” Victoria’s words were like a bucket of cold water, dousing Cassandra’s raging anger. She stood there, looking utterly disheveled, watching Victoria shield me, a flicker of jealousy and resentment in her eyes. “Just you wait!” She threw out that empty threat, then turned and fled in a panic. Silence returned to the office. I looked at Victoria, feeling a bit awkward, wondering how she knew about the graduation party incident. But I still bowed respectfully and apologized. “Victoria, I’m sorry. I caused you trouble.” “It’s nothing.” She returned to her desk, her gaze falling on my wrist, which Cassandra had gripped red. Her brow furrowed almost imperceptibly. “After you start, I don’t want to see similar incidents happen again.” “Understood.” I nodded. She was warning me to keep my personal life separate from my professional responsibilities. That was fine. In this life, I only wanted to focus on my career. I wanted nothing more to do with emotions. After joining the company, I immersed myself fully in my work. Leveraging my experience from my past life and a sharp business acumen far beyond my peers, I quickly rose to prominence within the department. And Cassandra, just like in my past life, embarked on her entrepreneurial journey. She believed that if she succeeded again, I would return to her side, just as I had before. Occasionally, she would send messages from new numbers, mostly empty promises like, “Dean, once I succeed, I’ll marry you in style.” I never replied. She seemed to be holding her breath, not coming to find me again. Until a month later, when I received an unknown call. It was Cassandra’s business partner. He anxiously asked, “Dean, you need to come and see! Cassandra drank so much to secure an investment, she’s in the hospital with a bleeding ulcer!”

A bleeding ulcer? I froze. In my past life, she had done the same, gambling with her health for her career. In the end, she won a multi-billion dollar fortune but lost her life. My heart still felt an undeniable pang of pain. But it was only for a moment. I calmly told the person on the other end, “I’m not your Dean. You have the wrong number.” Then I hung up. I thought that would be the end of it. But the next day, Cassandra directly blocked my path downstairs from the company building. Her face was pale, her lips bloodless. She clearly looked very ill. She grabbed me, her voice tinged with a plea and a hint of accusation. “Dean, I was hospitalized. Why didn’t you come to see me?” “I called you so many times. Why didn’t you answer?” Listening to her words, I suddenly felt a profound sense of weariness. “Cassandra, we have nothing to do with each other anymore. Besides, your health is your own responsibility. It has nothing to do with me.” Cassandra seemed enraged by my coldness and abruptly pinned me against the wall. “Dean, how can you be so heartless? I risked everything for you, and you say it has nothing to do with you?” “Are you just waiting for me to die?” Trapped in her embrace, I caught the faint scent of antiseptic on her, exactly the same as the smell from her in my past life when she died in my arms. A familiar suffocating sensation seized my chest. Just as I was about to gasp for air, a black Bentley glided silently to a stop in front of us. The car window lowered, revealing Victoria’s elegant, impassive face. Her gaze swept over me, finally landing on Cassandra. “Let him go.” Cassandra met her gaze, refusing to back down. Victoria, however, suddenly smiled—a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes, laced with a hint of disdain. “Miss Cassandra, don’t you think the process of securing funding for your first project was a little *too* smooth?” Cassandra froze. Victoria slowly uttered her next words. “It was Dean. He gave up a full scholarship to Stanford University to secure that opportunity for you.” “He laid out the path for you, and here you are, questioning why he wouldn’t walk it with you?” “Cassandra, you don’t even deserve him.” Cassandra was thunderstruck, her entire body stiffening. She looked at me, utterly disbelieving. “Stanford… a full scholarship?” I had never told her about that.

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I was livestreaming, chatting with my followers as I walked, forcing a weak smile at the camera before my vision swam, and I felt myself slowly, inevitably, go down. Amidst my followers’ frantic calls for help, a uniformed officer, gun at the ready, appeared in everyone’s view. I confidently collapsed onto the sturdy chest of the officer. In my previous life, my mentor, Dr. Silas Vance, had stolen crucial experimental data, selling it to a rival nation. Yet, the surveillance footage showed *me* as the last person to enter and leave. Two minutes after I left, a fire erupted, causing the lab building to explode and incinerate all evidence. Sleeping soundly in my dorm, I had no one who could provide an alibi. Convicted of arson, causing significant property damage, I was sentenced to life imprisonment and eventually died in a prison brawl. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day of the fire. If he could fake surveillance evidence against me, then I would use irrefutable proof to rip off his deceptive mask. Without me as his scapegoat, how would he ever convince the university to swallow hundreds of millions in losses?

I livestreamed for half an hour straight. Without any filters, my face was visibly pale. The chat feed had shifted from: “Audrey’s genuinely a PhD, her ideas are so advanced!” “Holy crap, her method could solve my current technical problems!” To: “Audrey, do you researchers ever exercise? You’re breathing so heavily!” “Audrey, I know this path. Just a few more steps, there’s a federal facility ahead, go ask for help! You look like you’re about to pass out.” “Mom, help! Someone’s about to collapse on my screen!” I looked up, weakly gazing at the screen, my forehead visibly drenched in cold sweat. “Yeah, I don’t feel so great. Might be low blood sugar, I’m so sorry.” The comments scrolled thick and fast: “No, no, no, Audrey, don’t talk! Someone save her!” “Officer! This citizen needs serious help!” Finally, I saw the gates of the facility. I mustered all my strength, sped up a few steps, and stumbled past the yellow warning line. “Hold it right there! What are you doing?!” The officer at the gate, gun in hand, immediately went on high alert, seeing someone holding a selfie device walk directly into the restricted area. I kept my head down; the camera could capture my pale face and half-closed eyes, but the officer couldn’t see them. To him, an unknown individual was ignoring his warnings and barging into the base. One officer raised his weapon, while another called for backup and cautiously approached me. Until I crashed heavily into him, then softly collapsed to the ground. I squinted at the time: 9:48 PM. Seven minutes until the fire. I gasped, a tense knot in my chest suddenly loosening, my consciousness instantly fading. I felt someone shaking me. I struggled to open my eyes, unable to make out the face in front of me. I tried to speak as loudly as I could, but the sound was barely a whisper until he leaned his ear close to my mouth. “I’m sorry… I’m not a bad person… I’m still livestreaming, could you… turn it off for me?” The last image on the livestream was the officer’s cap. My consciousness receded, and I saw my past life. Waking up to my blankets being ripped off and being dragged out of bed while still half-asleep—that was the nightmare that haunted my past life. Dressed in thin pajamas, surrounded by a group of police officers and university officials, repeatedly questioned in harsh tones about why I started the fire, all I could do was offer a weak, helpless “I didn’t.” Nothing more. My hands were clamped in cold handcuffs, and I felt as though my entire life had been locked away. During my days and nights in prison, I replayed countless scenarios. The best possible explanation was that the fire was caused by a short circuit, not intentional arson, meaning I wouldn’t be sentenced so severely. But I couldn’t prove it wasn’t me who was last in and out of the lab. The surveillance clearly showed me entering and exiting the building, and the lab’s access card records were under my ID. The evidence was so solid, it could crush me. It wasn’t until a year later, when my former mentor was teaching in the States, and the research he published was built directly upon my core technology, that I finally understood the truth. The fire wasn’t meant to destroy anything; it was meant to cover something up. And now, without my unwitting cooperation, who else could help him pull off this clandestine data swap?

I felt someone moving me and struggled to open my eyes. My vision was too blurry. I could only grasp onto the person in the uniform, whoever it was. “Alright, young lady, just let go for a moment. Let the paramedics check you over.” I didn’t want paramedics, and I didn’t want to go to the hospital. I wanted to stay under *their* surveillance, here at the facility. Someone was prying my fingers open. It hurt so much. Tears streamed down my face. I clung on with all my might, refusing to let go. “She’s probably just startled, nothing serious, just low blood sugar. If she won’t let go, let’s carry her to the duty room for now.” I stopped struggling, letting them carry me through the gates. I looked up at the security cameras above the entrance—such solid evidence. Someone put a piece of candy in my mouth, and I slowly regained some strength, enough to sit up. A group of people surrounded me. None of the harsh, cold faces from my past life. Their expressions of concern made tears well up in my eyes. “Feeling a little better, miss?” Seeing the light return to my eyes, Captain Miller, a man with two stripes and one bar on his uniform, asked with genuine concern. A wave of injustice and sorrow surged within me, like floodgates bursting open, and I couldn’t stop it anymore. I began to sob uncontrollably. The clock on the wall seemed to be counting down, bringing me closer and closer to safety. 9:50 PM. Dr. Silas Vance must be in the lab copying my data by now, right? I had considered calling the police beforehand to catch him red-handed, but then I realized: he not only faked my access card but also tampered with the university’s surveillance data. This wasn’t something a professor, who had only returned to teach here for less than a year, could do alone. 9:53 PM. I was crying so hard I started to hiccup. The people around me, initially flustered, had calmed down, passing me water and tissues. Dr. Silas Vance must have already left, locking up behind him. I wondered how he started the fire. Logically, the lab had excellent power cut-off and fire safety measures. How could it catch fire so easily, and even spread to cause the entire building to explode? 9:54 PM. My emotions slowly stabilized. Captain Miller couldn’t suppress a chuckle. “Young lady, you’re the most impressive crier I’ve ever seen.” I pouted, embarrassed. I was terrified of what I’d endured, and ecstatic about my rebirth. Heaven knows, the sheer joy that erupted when I realized I’d been reborn an hour before the fire almost drowned me. “I can’t stay in the dorm!” That was my only thought. I grabbed my essentials and fled immediately. It wasn’t until I was in the taxi that I came to my senses and started thinking about what else I could do. I usually recorded faceless videos to share study tips and methods. Now, I decided to go live, face and all, to have all my followers bear witness. Collapsing at the facility gates was a sheer coincidence. When I was reborn, I had been up for over twenty hours and was finally ready to sleep. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have slept so soundly that I was oblivious to the fire. The dual pressure of mental exhaustion and physical strain had simply overwhelmed me. In this situation, the timing of my low blood sugar was perfect. “Do you want me to call an ambulance?” Captain Miller’s smiling eyes met mine. “You still look frightfully pale.” 9:55 PM. The second hand on the clock seemed to tick directly on my heart. “Yes, please. Thank you so much.” I stopped my sobbing and said gratefully.

Emergency sirens howled, not for an ambulance, but for the fire department, racing past the window. I watched, dazed, as the red lights vanished into the distance. “We’ve verified your identification. Here, take your documents back.” I snapped out of it, taking the documents Captain Miller handed me. All my IDs: driver’s license, student ID, and the lab access card. “Don’t worry, we’ll go to the hospital with you.” His clear, reassuring voice gave me such a sense of security that I drifted into a deep sleep before the ambulance even arrived, waking only when my body was suddenly yanked, almost throwing me off the bed. “Audrey Hayes, you’re suspected of arson. We need you to cooperate with our investigation!” The same cold, stern voice as in my past life sent a shiver down my spine. My head was still a bit foggy. I stared blankly at the people in front of me and asked, bewildered, “What?” “Do you think getting yourself admitted to the hospital will get you out of this?” Dean Henderson’s voice was hoarse; he looked like he hadn’t slept all night. “Audrey, you were caught on camera escaping after starting the fire.” Dr. Silas Vance, still looking refined and scholarly, condemned me in the gentlest tone. “Your recent research progress has stalled, and you’ve been under too much stress.” “I told her she wouldn’t have to delay graduation, but who knew she’d be so extreme, rather destroying everything than admitting her own incompetence.” He explained to the Dean and the officers, playing the part of a caring mentor. “This really is her fault, but I hope you can go easy on her, considering how young she is.” The officers ignored his soft-spoken pleas. Detective Captain Hayes coldly addressed me: “She’s an adult and must take responsibility for her actions.” “What exactly happened?” I asked, completely confused. “Still playing dumb!” Dean Henderson roared, pointing at me. “Minutes after you left the lab last night, it caught fire!” “The fire spread, causing an explosion, and half the lab building was destroyed!” “The whole university didn’t dare close an eye last night, and here you are, having a leisurely sleep in the hospital!” He turned to Detective Captain Hayes, shaking his head in disappointment. “Detective Captain Hayes, just take her. I’m done with this.” “I never went to the academic building last night!” I propped myself up on the hospital bed, leaning forward, desperately trying to make them believe me. “I have no reason to burn down the academic building, please believe me!” No matter how earnest or anxious I was, everyone around me stared coldly, as if I were a jumping clown. “You should be grateful no one was hurt. Otherwise, we wouldn’t be speaking to you so politely.” “I am Detective Captain Hayes of the city’s Major Crimes Unit. You are officially under arrest. Take her away!” He roughly yanked my arm, pulling me off the bed without a shred of gentleness. I stood barefoot on the cold floor, the chill seeming to freeze my heart. A female officer next to me gripped my wrist tightly, the cold glint of handcuffs about to snap shut. “What are you doing?!” A firm shout from the doorway interrupted her. A young uniformed officer, clutching a lunchbox, stood in the doorway, frowning as he glared at everyone in the room. “Who are you?” Dr. Silas Vance asked him gently. “Are you Audrey Hayes’ boyfriend?” His words instantly undercut the officer’s authoritative presence. “My commanding officer sent me to look after her.” The young officer ignored Dr. Silas Vance, walking straight past him to address Detective Captain Hayes. “What’s going on? She’s still a patient!” “She’s suspected of arson, causing significant property damage. We need to take her to the precinct,” Detective Captain Hayes said, strictly professional. The young officer looked at me, troubled. Seeing my pleading gaze, he thought for a moment, then stepped directly in front of me. “I’m coming with her, and I’ll inform my commanding officer. Otherwise, you’re not taking her anywhere.” It was the familiar interrogation room, and the intense lights made me squint. “Audrey Hayes, what were you doing at the lab last night?!” Detective Captain Hayes and a female officer sat opposite me, questioning me sternly.

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The Future Stole My First Love After the senior year exams, everyone in school let loose, and love letters were flying everywhere. But the biggest buzz was about Stella Hayes, the most popular girl in school, who was finally going to confess to *me*, her childhood crush, after years of unspoken feelings. I stood by the back door of the classroom, my fingertips just about to brush against that pink and blue love letter when a mature, sophisticated woman suddenly barged in and tore the letter to shreds. She claimed to be Stella Hayes, but from ten years in the future. She said she’d traveled back in time. “Don’t confess to Julian,” she’d snarled, dragging my Stella by the arm. “He’s not your true love.” She pointed to Caleb Thorne, a guy in a faded uniform, sitting in the corner. “See Caleb? Ten years from now, you’ll love him passionately, to the point of obsession. Since you’re destined to be with him, why waste these ten years?” My Stella just looked utterly appalled. She violently shook off the woman’s hand. “You’re crazy!” she’d shouted. “I’ll only ever love Julian!” But that confession, that moment I’d waited for, never got to finish. Future Stella also seized the opportunity to stay, claiming she wanted to help my Stella “see her true feelings” early. Gradually, I started to notice that Stella was changing. When Caleb got sick, she’d immediately rush to help him to the hospital, completely forgetting that *I* was waiting for her for a full hour at the amusement park. At dinner, she’d instinctively remember that Caleb didn’t like peanuts, carefully picking them out of the spicy stir-fry to give to *me*, completely oblivious to the fact that *I* was severely allergic to peanuts. On rainy days, she’d rather get soaked herself than not lend her umbrella to Caleb, even when *I* was standing right beside her, getting drenched in the rain. These subtle shifts, like a dull knife slowly carving away at me, made my heart sink deeper and deeper into a cold abyss. Until the day we had to fill out our university applications. “Julian, I’m so sorry,” Stella said, her eyes flickering, unable to meet mine. “I can’t go to a top-tier university with you anymore. The new AI major at State University is a better fit for me.” My heart went completely cold in an instant. I knew it too well. State University was the only school Caleb, with his barely-passing grades, could get into. She took my hand, her voice laced with her usual playful tone. “Come to a top-tier university with me, please? That way we can still be together. I’ve always listened to you; this time, just let me have my way, okay?” Those words were like tiny needles pricking my soul. She silently pulled her hand away, then nodded. But then, behind her back, I quickly prepared all the necessary documents and applied for an offer at a prestigious university abroad. Stella, if your love isn’t solely mine anymore, then I don’t want it at all. … The day the acceptance letter arrived, a strange calm settled over me. I pulled out the huge storage box, filled with everything Stella had given me over the years. Childish crayon drawings, limited edition sneakers, a necklace engraved with our initials, a thick stack of movie ticket stubs, notes she’d stayed up late to organize for me… Once, I’d treasured them more than anything. Now, I walked with the box to the dumpster downstairs, and without a second thought, I tossed them all into its gaping maw. Just as I turned, I saw two figures arguing in the distance. Future Stella, dressed in a sleek, form-fitting dress, gripped my Stella’s wrist tightly. My younger Stella, with her slender waist and long legs, her uniform billowing in the wind, had a face full of fury – a face that made every guy at school shout her name. “Let go!” “Why are you still looking for him?” Future Stella’s voice was strained. “The most important thing for you to do right now is to be with Caleb! He’s the one you truly love!” “Nonsense!” My Stella violently yanked her hand away, her brow furrowed with arrogance. “Julian is the only one I like. Can you, you crazy woman, just disappear already?” “Is that so?” Future Stella sneered, her voice sharp. “Then why did you give up your future and prestigious universities for Caleb?!” My Stella’s face stiffened, her voice growing colder. “Who says I did it for him!” I didn’t want to watch their absurd argument any longer and turned to leave, but Stella spotted me instantly. She rushed over, grabbing my hand, her voice softening in a flash. “Julian, didn’t you say you wanted to see that new romance movie last time? I bought the tickets! Let’s go together, okay?” “No,” I replied, my voice completely devoid of emotion. Stella’s smile froze for a moment, then she softened her voice again, playfully. “Are you still mad about me changing my university choice? You already agreed to go to State University with me, didn’t you? That major really has great prospects, just this once, please agree to my request, okay?” As she spoke, the corners of her eyes drooped slightly, that vulnerable expression I could never resist. In the past, whenever she looked at me like that, I would agree to anything. But now, I just felt numb. Before I could answer, Stella half-forced me into her newly bought sports car. Future Stella, her face grim, followed, sitting silently in the back seat. The car started, and the cramped space was filled with a suffocating tension. Future Stella scanned the car’s interior and suddenly spoke. “You just bought this car, didn’t you? You should change the starry night air freshener Julian likes; Caleb can’t stand it, he prefers fruity scents. And replace the milk in the storage compartment too; Caleb is lactose intolerant. Keep some soda crackers in there.” My Stella’s fingers, gripping the steering wheel, tightened abruptly, her knuckles turning white. “Are you done yet? I’m telling you one last time, Julian is the only one I like. There’s no way I’d ever like that Caleb!” Future Stella, however, seemed to ignore her outburst. “Is that so? You’ll clearly love him to your bones in the future, staying up all night for him, waiting downstairs at his house for an entire night, and even…” She rattled off a list of crazy things her future self had done for Caleb, ten years from now. I sat in the passenger seat, each word like an ice shard piercing my heart, the pain so intense it stole my breath. I looked out the window, watching the rapidly receding streetlights, everything blurring into a painful haze. At the movie theater, Stella leaned against my shoulder, holding a bag of caramel popcorn—my favorite flavor. During the movie, she’d instinctively lean over, wanting to whisper her critiques of the plot. The screen’s light illuminated her delicate profile, her eyelashes impossibly long. As I watched her, a sense of déjà vu washed over me. Memories flooded back, uncontrolled. When she was three, she’d tottered onto my bed with a small pillow, her voice sweet and childlike, saying, “Mommy says girls are supposed to sleep with their husbands in the future.” When she was seven, I got a black eye and a bloody nose fighting a fat kid from the next class to get back her hair clip, which he’d stolen. I kept the broken clip, recovered from the fight, in my pocket like a treasure. When I was twelve, I was hospitalized with a fever. She skipped school, her eyes red, and clung to my bedside, whispering, “Big brother, don’t scare me.” When she was fifteen, girls her age started getting crushes earlier. She awkwardly wrote me a love letter, full of typos, but meticulously drew a whole page of hearts. I couldn’t fathom it. We had so many dramatic, memorable experiences together. How could it be, as that woman said, that ten years from now, she would fall for an utterly unremarkable Caleb, loving him with such intense, desperate devotion? Yet, everything that had happened recently made it impossible for me to disbelieve. Just then, Stella’s phone vibrated wildly. The name flashing on the screen was “Caleb.” She glanced at it, then hung up immediately. The phone rang again, relentlessly. She hung up again. After who knows how many times, Future Stella, who had been silent in the back seat, suddenly grabbed Stella’s hand, her voice urgent. “What’s today’s date?” “The tenth, why?” Stella replied, annoyed. “Answer it! Answer it quickly!” Future Stella’s voice was filled with a panic I’d never heard before. “It’s today! Caleb will be harassed by some debt collectors. To escape them, he’ll jump from a second-story window, break his leg, and be bedridden for a month! Go now!” Stella’s brow furrowed. “What are you talking about? Even if something did happen, it has nothing to do with me. We’re just classmates, at most!” “You’ll regret it if you don’t go! You’ll hate yourself so much!” Future Stella was practically screaming. Stella scoffed, her tone resolute. “I’d regret leaving Julian here alone right now!” With that, she silenced her phone and flipped it face down on the seat. Future Stella stared at her for a few seconds, her gaze complex, then finally turned and left. “If you won’t go, *I* will!” Then, she strode purposefully and disappeared into the cinema entrance. The movie continued, but I could clearly feel that Stella’s mind was no longer with me. She became agitated, her fingers unconsciously tapping the armrest, her eyes frequently darting to the phone, which was still face down, its screen silently lighting up repeatedly. Finally, after another silent screen flash, she abruptly stood up, her voice rushed as she lied to me. “Julian, I… I forgot to buy you a drink! Wait here, I’ll be right back!” With that, she didn’t even dare to meet my eyes. She snatched up her phone and hurried out of the screening room. I watched her practically run away, my heart sinking little by little, down to the frigid, silent ocean floor. I had a strong premonition: she wouldn’t be coming back. Sure enough, a few minutes later, my phone vibrated. It was a video from “Future Stella.” ### 第二章 I tapped on the video. The shaky footage showed a dimly lit alley. In the video, the familiar figure of my Stella, her eyes blazing red, was wildly punching and kicking several thugs with her bodyguards, her attacks ruthless, completely devoid of her usual elegance and composure. Caleb, on the other hand, was badly beaten and barely conscious. In the brief pause when she stopped, breathing heavily, he lunged forward and tightly embraced her waist, his voice trembling. “Stella, don’t keep fighting! I’m worried about you…” Stella’s body stiffened. She turned back to look at him, still panting, her voice carrying a mix of fear and agitated reprimand I had never heard before. “Are you a complete idiot? Why didn’t you call the police when something like this happened?!” Caleb hesitated for a moment. “I don’t have any other friends. You’re my only good friend. I’m sorry, I worried you…” Stella clearly paused, looking at the boy’s trusting, sincere eyes. After a moment of silence, her voice softened unconsciously. “You set me as your emergency contact. That way… I won’t miss your calls again.” “You set me as your emergency contact.” That sentence was a poisoned blade, plunged precisely into my heart. Once upon a time, I had asked her to do the same for me. There was one time I accidentally dialed her number in my sleep. She called out a few times, but I didn’t respond, and she was so scared she rushed back from another city that very night. There were no flights, so this pampered princess endured an eight-hour train ride. Only when she burst into my house and saw me safe and sound did she embrace me, her eyes red. “Julian, you scared me to death.” At that time, she made me set her as my emergency contact. I thought she would be my only one, forever. Turns out, she wasn’t. The image in the video became blurry. I exited the video, a dull, throbbing ache pulsed in my chest. I stared numbly at the joys and sorrows unfolding on the big screen, but not a single word registered. The movie ended, the lights came on, and the crowd began to stir, filing out. Just as I was about to reach the exit, an excruciating creaking sound came from above my head! Immediately followed by gasps and screams! “The cinema ceiling is collapsing! Run!” *Boom!* A tremendous crash and violent tremor instantly swallowed everything. I didn’t even have time to react. My vision went black, and I was completely buried under heavy building materials and debris. In the second before my consciousness plunged into darkness, only an endless, desolate self-mockery remained in my heart. Look, Julian. Future Stella, she only remembered today was the day Caleb was in danger. She urged her past self to save him. But she specifically forgot, or simply didn’t care, that on this same day, in this same place, *I* would also face utter disaster. It turns out that ten years from now, she truly… didn’t love me at all. I woke up in heavy darkness. “Here! There are still vital signs! Quickly!” As rescue workers carefully lifted me out of the rubble, the blinding sunlight instantly brought physiological tears to my eyes. In a daze, I felt myself being moved rapidly, the sharp wail of an ambulance siren piercing the sky. I regained consciousness again to the acrid smell of disinfectant in a hospital. The anesthetic was wearing off, and the dull post-surgery pain was unmistakably present. A nurse wheeled me out of the operating room, and the doctor gently explained by my side: “The surgery was successful. The fracture in your left leg has been set. You have a mild concussion that needs observation, and your body is mostly covered in superficial wounds. Just rest up well…” Before he finished speaking, the gurney suddenly stopped. I struggled to lift my eyes, directly meeting a familiar pair of wide, astonished eyes. It was Stella. She was coming out of the adjacent hospital room. Caleb was by her side, his face pale, a small piece of gauze taped to his forehead. Future Stella stood on Caleb’s other side, supporting his arm. Seeing me, wrapped in bandages, my face ashen, and my leg in a heavy cast, Stella’s face changed drastically. She almost instantly let go of Caleb and rushed to my bedside. “Julian? What happened to you?” Her voice was filled with panic. She reached out to touch me but then hesitated, her fingers frozen in mid-air. Future Stella, having steadied a stumbling Caleb, cast a fleeting, almost imperceptible glance of surprise at me, then quickly reverted to her usual detached indifference. I was too tired, physically and mentally exhausted. I didn’t want to say another word, so I simply closed my eyes. The doctor next to me sighed and explained to Stella, “This young man was rescued from that collapsed cinema downtown. He was buried quite deep and lost a lot of blood. Any later, and it might have been dangerous.” Stella’s face instantly drained of color. She sharply turned her head, her gaze piercing Future Stella. Her lips moved, as if she wanted to question something, but ultimately, she first urgently told the doctor, “I’m his girlfriend. I’ll take him back to his room.” “The patient needs absolute rest right now,” the doctor interjected. “You can wait a bit before visiting.” The moment the nurse pushed me into the room and closed the door, the muffled sounds of an argument from outside still clearly reached me. “Aren’t you me from ten years in the future?!” It was my Stella’s voice, choked with suppressed anger and trembling. “Since you remember even a minor detail like Caleb being ambushed by thugs today so clearly, why didn’t you say a single word about Julian being in trouble at the cinema? Do you know he almost died?!” “Why should I remember?” Future Stella’s voice was cold and impatient, as if stating an obvious fact. “My heart only holds Caleb, so naturally I only remember things about him. As for irrelevant people, whether they live or die, what does it matter to me?” “You’re utterly unreasonable!” Then came the muffled thud of a fist hitting flesh, the nurses’ gasps and pleas, and Caleb’s attempts to intervene… Inside the room, I lay quietly, tears silently streaming from the corners of my eyes, soaking the pillow. Irrelevant people… ### 第三章 So, ten years from now, in her world, I was reduced to those six dismissive words. But once, everything about me—even the small habits I’d long forgotten, or tiny wishes I’d casually mentioned—Stella had held dear, as if they were sacred commands. I’d tease her about her incredible memory, but she’d just lie in my arms, rubbing her chin against my arm, lazily yet earnestly saying, “Julian, I don’t want to forget a single thing about you.” I don’t know how much time passed, but the commotion outside finally subsided. The hospital room door was gently pushed open, and Stella walked in, her face still showing a trace of lingering anger and obvious guilt. She came to my bedside and cautiously sat down, reaching for my hand, the one not hooked up to an IV, but I gently pulled it away. Her hand froze in mid-air, her eyes dimming. “Julian, I’m so sorry…” her voice was hoarse, filled with regret. “I truly didn’t know you’d get hurt… I was… I was just so afraid something would really happen to Caleb, after all, we’re classmates, and it would be awful if someone died. And I was afraid you’d overthink it and get angry if you knew, that’s why I lied about getting a drink… I didn’t expect…” She apologized over and over, repeatedly promising, “It won’t happen again, Julian, I promise you, I will absolutely never let something like this happen again. Please believe me!” I listened quietly, a sharp, tiny pain pricking the cold, numb spot in my chest. I was about to leave, to go somewhere she wasn’t. Her promises, to me, were utterly meaningless now. So I remained silent, eyes closed, as if I were asleep. For the next few days, Stella barely left my hospital room, feeding me water, peeling apples, awkwardly trying to cheer me up. Future Stella, however, was like a ghost, appearing now and then with cold, biting remarks: “Stella, think clearly. Caleb is the one you’ll love in the future. He sprained his ankle, he’s all alone in the hospital. You shouldn’t be wasting your time here. Julian has a nurse’s aide, but Caleb only has you. If you’re cold to him now, you’ll regret it bitterly later!” Each time, my Stella would tell her to get lost. “I’m telling you one last time, I like Julian. Caleb has no one to take care of him, you say? Fine! I’ll hire him the best nurse’s aides, three of them, is that enough? Now, can you shut up?!” Though her words were firm, as evening approached and the sky outside darkened, she would still become restless. Eventually, with a look of apology and struggle, she’d say to me, “Julian, I… I’m still a little worried about Caleb. I’ll just go check on him, and as soon as I confirm he’s okay, I’ll be right back. Wait for me.” But once she left, she never came back. Not until late that night, when my phone lit up with a message from Future Stella: “Julian, face the reality. Future Stella is destined to be with Caleb. Let go, and make way for my eighteen-year-old self and him. I don’t want to miss a single moment of being with Caleb.” Every single word was like a needle pricking my soul. So, all those years of laughter and little moments we shared, were they all as light as dust, utterly meaningless in the face of this supposed “destiny”? Immediately after, another video was sent. In the video, Stella was sitting by Caleb’s hospital bed, carefully peeling an orange for him, even meticulously removing the white pith. Caleb said innocently, “Stella, if you’re taking care of me, will Julian get mad?” Stella’s movements in the video paused for a moment, then she casually said, “Julian is a man, he’s very understanding. He won’t get mad.” I watched the screen, my heart clenching with a sharp, familiar pain. Yes, I was truly “understanding.” Understanding enough to willingly step aside, to allow her to pursue her “destiny.” On the day I was discharged, Stella, who had been absent for almost an entire day, finally rushed in, her face showing obvious fatigue and apology. “Julian, I’m so sorry, Caleb’s situation has been a bit complicated these past few days, and I couldn’t get away. You’ve lost so much weight. Come on, I’ll take you to get some good food and properly spoil you.” As she spoke, Future Stella walked out, supporting a frail-looking Caleb. “You’re going to eat?” Future Stella raised an eyebrow. “Perfect, let’s all go together. Caleb is hungry too.” Stella frowned, her lips pressed into a thin line. She seemed to want to refuse, but seeing Caleb’s longing eyes, she ultimately said nothing, silently agreeing. At the restaurant, Stella took the menu and, without hesitation, rattled off a string of dish names, all my favorites. Future Stella immediately tapped the table, displeased. “Why did you order only things Caleb doesn’t like?” “I don’t even know what he likes,” Stella retorted, her tone stiff. Future Stella snorted, snatched the menu, and fluently ordered several light dishes. Then she shoved her phone screen in Stella’s face. “Look carefully, these are all things Caleb will like in the future.” Caleb’s eyes widened in surprise. “How do you know I like these?” Future Stella immediately turned to him, her eyes filled with undisguised affection. “I told you, I’m Stella from ten years in the future. Back then, I loved you more than anything.” “Enough!” Stella interrupted her coldly, grabbing my hand beside her, her voice urgent as she declared her loyalty to me. “Julian! Don’t listen to her nonsense! No matter what the future holds, right now, I only like you! Truly!” Future Stella seemed provoked, her voice rising sharply. “What’s the use of being stubborn now? Your feelings for him are just a temporary infatuation; your love for Caleb is for a lifetime! In the future, you’ll run all over town just to buy him his favorite sweet porridge! You’ll drive across cities in the middle of the night to buy him mung bean cakes just because he said he couldn’t sleep! When he’s sick, you’ll wish you could suffer the pain for him! You’ll do all these things in the future! The person you’re protecting now—you’ll break his heart for Caleb’s sake!” As she spoke, she again opened her phone’s memo app and shoved it under Stella’s nose. “Look clearly! Remember this! These are all of Caleb’s preferences and dietary restrictions!” Stella looked at the densely packed memo, then at the pale-faced Caleb beside her. She actually fell silent, her eyes complex, and even genuinely looked at the memo a few more times. ### 第四章 In that moment, my heart felt completely shredded. I suddenly remembered that Stella’s phone’s notes app had once been my exclusive domain. From my biggest birthday dreams to a casual remark I made about “really wanting the osmanthus cake from South Side,” she would diligently write it all down, then make each one come true for me. She even refused when my mom asked her to jot down a grocery list, proudly looping her arm through mine and saying, “My notes app is exclusively for *my* Julian!” That earned her teasing from the whole family, calling her a “lovesick puppy” at such a young age. It turns out that ten years from now, that memo, once exclusively mine, was already densely filled with another boy’s joys and sorrows. I couldn’t stand to watch any longer. I abruptly stood up, my voice hoarse. “I need to go to the restroom.” In the restroom, I splashed cold water repeatedly on my face, barely managing to suppress the suffocating wave of grief. When I came out, I didn’t even glance at their table, walking straight out of the restaurant. “Julian!” Stella immediately chased after me. Future Stella also followed, pulling Caleb. “Stella, you take Caleb home. The streetlights in his old apartment complex are dim; it’s not safe.” Caleb quickly waved his hands, but his eyes darted to Stella. “No, no, it’s too much trouble for you. You two take Julian. I can go back by myself…” “No!” Future Stella flatly refused, then turned to Stella. “Did you forget he was followed by debt collectors last time and jumped from a window? What if something happens again?” Stella’s face showed clear struggle and hesitation. She looked at me, then at Caleb. I felt incredibly weary, wanting nothing more than to escape all of it. I took a deep breath. “You take him first. I’ll just get a cab back.” “No!” Stella immediately panicked, grabbing my wrist tightly. “I can’t let you go back alone! I want to go with you!” My heart turned cold and sarcastic. “What about him, then?” Stella hesitated again, finally, as if making a huge decision, she said, “I’ll take him first, his place is close. Then I’ll take you; we’ll all go together!” With that, she practically half-forced me into the car. The car soon pulled up in front of Caleb’s dilapidated apartment building. The surroundings were dim, and the stairwell entrance was pitch black. Future Stella was the first to get out, supporting Caleb, and told Stella, “This building doesn’t have an elevator, and the sound-activated lights are broken. I’ll take Caleb up. You come along and help with some light.”

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My sister, Mia, was trapped in a remote, snow-covered mountain, caught in an unexpected blizzard during her hike. I immediately called my husband, Ryan, who was the captain of the local search and rescue team and knew that mountain like the back of his hand. Ryan got the call and instantly rallied his team, preparing to deploy. But just as they were about to head out, he answered a phone call. He abruptly ordered the entire team to stand down, then jumped into his truck and sped down the mountain himself. I ran after the truck, stumbling and falling in the snow, watching helplessly as his vehicle vanished around the bend. “Ryan, the blizzard’s about to seal off the mountain!” “If you don’t go now, Mia will die! Please, I’m begging you, come back and save her!” But all he left me with was: “Stand by.” I waited for three agonizing hours until I saw him on the local news channel. Ryan was carefully prying a diamond bracelet, frozen solid to the icy railing of a scenic overlook, from a pampered heiress’s wrist. The heiress, Valerie, batting her eyelashes at the camera, played up her ‘terrified ordeal’ with a simpering mix of fear and exaggerated relief. “Thank goodness for Captain Ryan,” she gushed. “Otherwise, my necklace would have been ruined!” So, as my sister’s life ticked away, his more urgent priority was rescuing a rich socialite’s priceless jewelry. But what he didn’t know was that Mia had braved that storm-ravaged mountain not for adventure, but for him. She was there to retrieve a cherished heirloom from his mentor, lost years ago on that very mountain. And when Mia’s body was finally found, frozen solid in the raging blizzard, it would be the avalanche that buried not just her, but every shred of his life as he knew it.

The television screen’s glow reflected on my bloodless face. Ryan’s handsome profile was incredibly clear in the camera’s frame. He was bent over, carefully handling Valerie’s bracelet. Meanwhile, my sister, Mia, was all alone, trapped on a snow-capped mountain where temperatures plunged dozens of degrees below zero. Three whole hours! What I got wasn’t Ryan returning with his team, but him driving the rescue command vehicle back along a different scenic road. I frantically rushed in front of his truck, beating desperately on the window. “Ryan! Where were you?!” “What about Mia? Did you save her?!” The window slowly lowered, revealing his face, etched with impatience. “Harper, calm down,” he frowned. “I was handling an emergency.” An emergency? I was shaking with rage, pointing towards the mountain, tears blurring my vision instantly. “Your ‘emergency’ was retrieving a bracelet for some rich girl?!” “What about my sister? Is Mia’s life not more urgent than some stupid bracelet?!” Ryan’s expression darkened. “Miss Valerie’s hand was frozen to the metal railing of the overlook. There was a risk of amputation.” “And besides, I’d already had the team prepare everything. We were going to leave the moment I returned, not a minute wasted!” “Not a minute wasted?!” I let out a shrill, hysterical laugh. “Ryan, do you even realize, the blizzard peaked *three hours ago*! The entire mountain is locked down now! You didn’t just delay for a minute; you stole Mia’s *only* chance to live!” He seemed stung by my raw desperation, his voice hardening like ice. “Harper, I’m the captain! I know more about rescues than you do!” “If I say I can save her, I *will* save her!” “Now, move! Stop being irrational and getting in the way of my actual work!” Just then, his walkie-talkie crackled to life. A young team member’s trembling voice came through: “C-captain, we… we found Miss Mia near beacon number three on the west ridge…” My heart instantly clenched. “How is she?” A moment of silence passed on the other end of the walkie-talkie, followed by muffled sobs. “She… she’s no longer showing signs of life.” “Hypothermia, full organ failure, her body completely frozen solid…” My world seemed to crumble in that instant. I sank helplessly onto the snow. Ryan’s face went instantly ashen, a powerful shock and panic flashing in his eyes. But it was all too late. My sister, who just yesterday held my hand, laughing and promising to bring back the most beautiful snow-capped photos from the mountain, was now gone forever, left behind on that cold peak. When the rescue team brought her body back, she was curled up, her hands clutching a small wooden box tightly, never letting go, even in death.

Mia’s funeral was simple. She had always been so lively and full of smiles, so I chose a photo of her laughing brightest for her memorial picture. In the picture, she was wearing her hiking gear, a clear blue sky stretching behind her. But as I stared, that blue sky twisted into a brutal, bone-chilling blizzard in my mind’s eye. Ryan stood beside me, dressed in a black suit, silent as a statue. He tried to take my hand, but I pulled away. Those hands that had countless times pulled me into a loving embrace now made my stomach churn with a sickening repulsion. After the funeral, I held Mia’s urn and returned to the home Ryan and I shared. This place, once filled with laughter, was now terrifyingly quiet. Ryan followed behind me, cautiously speaking. “Harper, I know you’re hurting, but the dead can’t be brought back. You need to move forward.” Move forward? I turned, looking at him coldly. “Ryan, do you know why Mia went up that snowy mountain?” He paused, as if he’d never considered the question. “Didn’t she always love hiking and exploring?” “Yes, she did,” I forced a bitter smile. “But she loved her sister more. She knew I loved you, so she worshipped you like a hero, too.” I placed the wooden box the rescue team had retrieved from Mia’s arms onto the coffee table between us. “She heard me say that years ago, during a rescue mission, you lost a cherished heirloom from your mentor on that mountain.” “It was your biggest regret, and she wanted to make it right for you before your birthday.” Ryan’s body stiffened violently. He stared at the box, reaching out a hand but not daring to touch it. I opened it for him. Inside lay a brass compass, its needle no longer turning, its casing marked with the scratches of time. “She braved that storm-ravaged mountain, not for adventure, but for *you*, Ryan.” “She sacrificed her life for one of your insignificant sentiments.” “And you, when her life was hanging by a thread, when she needed you most, abandoned her for some woman’s jewelry.” Ryan’s breathing grew ragged. His tall frame swayed, his face ashen. “I… I didn’t know…” He murmured, a flicker of genuine pain and regret finally appearing in his eyes. “I truly didn’t know…” “Of course, you didn’t.” I looked at him, the last trace of warmth vanishing from my gaze. “Because you never truly cared about my sister and me.” “In your heart, we were probably less important than Miss Valerie’s bracelet.” I pulled another document from my bag and placed it beside the wooden box. “Ryan, we’re getting a divorce.” His pupils suddenly constricted. He stared at me, his eyes wide with disbelief. “Divorce? Harper, do you even know what you’re saying?” “I know perfectly well.” I stood up, clutching Mia’s urn. “Everything in this house is yours. I don’t want anything. I just want you to sign this.” With that, I carried Mia’s urn into her room and locked the door.

I stayed in Mia’s room all night. The next morning, when I walked out with my already packed suitcase, Ryan was sitting on the sofa, his eyes bloodshot, the divorce papers crumpled in his hand. Seeing me, he shot up, rushing over in a few strides and gripping my wrist. “Harper, do you really have to do this?” His voice was hoarse, tinged with a plea. “I’m devastated about Mia’s death too. I admit I was responsible, that I made a misjudgment.” “But you can’t let this one incident negate all our years together!” I tried to pull away, but he held on tighter. “All these years together?” I looked up, meeting his gaze directly. “Ryan, which years are you talking about?” “The years I quit my job to support your career, moving with you to this isolated mountain town?” “Or every time you went on a mission, when I couldn’t sleep all night, sick with worry for you?” “Or perhaps, this relationship where my sister lost her life for one of your so-called regrets?” His face went pale, and his grip on my hand loosened slightly. “I didn’t ask you to do any of that…” he argued. “I thought you did it willingly.” “I *was* willing,” I conceded with a nod. “But that was because I thought, in your heart, my family and I came first.” “Now I know I was wrong.” “To you, your ‘principles’ and ‘judgment’ were more important than my sister’s life itself.” “That’s different!” he interrupted, agitated. “Valerie’s situation was an *accident*! I was just—” “Enough, Ryan.” I didn’t want to hear any more of his excuses. “I don’t care what you were thinking at the time. I only know the outcome.” “And the outcome is that my sister is dead, and you are indirectly responsible for it.” The word “responsible” hit Ryan like a sledgehammer. He completely let go of me, stepping back, his eyes filled with hurt and anger. “Harper, do you have to use such hurtful words to stab at me? I know you’re angry, but this isn’t solving anything; you’re just being irrational!” In his eyes, my grief over losing my sister, my despair for him, was just irrationality. I suddenly found it both ridiculous and pathetic. Just then, his phone rang abruptly. He glanced at the caller ID, his brow instinctively furrowing. He deliberately lowered his voice, but I still caught the sweet, delicate female voice on the other end. “Captain Ryan, are you still mad at me?” “I really didn’t mean to cause you trouble. My dad wants to invite you to dinner to thank you in person…” Ryan turned his back to me, his voice a gentle tone I’d never heard him use before. “Miss Valerie, you’re too kind. It was just part of my job.” “No need for dinner. How’s your hand?” “Much better, the doctor said it was lucky you handled it so quickly. All thanks to you…” I watched his back impassively, then picked up my suitcase and walked towards the door. Ryan seemed to sense my movement. He quickly said, “I have to go, I’m busy,” into the phone, then turned and rushed after me, blocking my path again. “Harper, let’s talk this through. Please don’t go.” I looked at him, then asked an unrelated question. “Ryan, do you know what Mia’s ashes feel like to the touch?” He froze. I continued, ignoring him. “They’re cold. Colder than the snow on that mountain.” He suddenly became agitated, snatching my suitcase from my hand. “I won’t agree to a divorce!”

“I told you, what happened to Mia was an accident, but that can’t be your reason for leaving me!” “Compensation?” I looked at this man I had once loved to my core, repeating the word. “Ryan, what could you possibly compensate? Can you bring Mia back to life?” “Can you turn back time, and choose to save her that day instead?” He was speechless, only able to futilely emphasize: “That’s different! Rescue operations have procedures and judgments! I—” “Don’t talk to me about your procedures and judgments anymore!” I finally exploded, screaming out all my pain and despair. “Your ‘judgment’ was that my sister’s cry for help needed verification, but Miss Valerie’s frozen bracelet was a top emergency!” “Your ‘procedure’ was to keep your entire rescue team standing by while *you* drove dozens of miles to play hero to a rich heiress!” My voice was shrill, attracting the curious stares of the neighbors. A flicker of embarrassment crossed Ryan’s face. He tried to cover my mouth. “Lower your voice! Don’t air our dirty laundry in public!” I violently shook off his hand, tears finally streaming down my face. “Dirty laundry? Ryan, *now* you care about dirty laundry?!” “When you treated Mia’s life like a joke, did you ever consider it would come to this?” “While you smugly enjoyed Valerie’s thanks and the media’s praise, did you ever spare a thought for the girl slowly taking her last breaths in the blizzard?!” “I told you I didn’t know she was there for *me*!” He was enraged now too, veins bulging on his forehead. “If I had known, I would have gone to save her first!” “Really?” I retorted with a cold laugh. “But you *didn’t* know. You didn’t even spend a second thinking about it.” “You just *assumed* she was some reckless idiot, not worth a hero captain like you prioritizing her rescue.” Ryan fell silent instantly, the fire in his eyes slowly dying, replaced by a deep sense of helplessness. Perhaps only at this moment did he truly realize that the problem between us was no longer something an apology or compensation could fix. It was a human life, a chasm my sister had carved with her very existence, a gulf we could never bridge. I slowly, one by one, peeled his fingers from the handle of my suitcase. His hand was warm, strong, once my most cherished harbor. But now, I only felt cold. “Ryan, let go,” my voice was calm again. “We’re truly over.”

I pulled my suitcase, walking towards the main road at the village entrance without looking back. Ryan’s gaze felt like thorns digging into my back. But I didn’t turn around, not once. I was afraid if I did, I’d see regret in his eyes, and my heart would soften. But my heart couldn’t afford to be soft anymore. Mia’s urn was still in my backpack; she hated the cold, and I needed to take her somewhere warm. A place without Ryan, and without blizzards. Not long after I left, a pink Porsche pulled up to Ryan’s house. The window rolled down, and Valerie peeked out. Seeing a distraught Ryan, a flicker of glee crossed her eyes, quickly replaced by a look of concern. “Captain Ryan, are you alright? I heard… your wife might have misunderstood us?” She spoke softly, with just the right amount of concern. “I couldn’t explain it to her, she was just being irrational.” Ryan tiredly rubbed his temples, his voice filled with frustration. A triumphant smile curled Valerie’s lips. Then, the two of them left for the restaurant she had already arranged, while I departed the small town nestled beneath the snowy mountains.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “298565”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster #浪漫Romance #现实主义Realistic