After I was murdered, my daughter—who had always despised me—risked her life to avenge me. My wife, who used to spend every day indulging in pleasure, personally killed all my enemies with her own hands. Then she died for love, clutching my urn. My soul floated in the air, unable to believe what I was seeing. When I opened my eyes again, I had returned to the past. I was in the middle of viciously berating my daughter for only ranking second in her class, while smashing my wife’s expensive perfumes to pieces. Me: “…” Ah, was I really this cruel before? This time, I’m going to live differently. Shattered perfume bottles littered the floor, torn test papers scattered at my feet. The butler and servants stood nearby, trembling. I silently set down the last perfume bottle in my hand, changing my grip on my daughter Aurora’s arm from pinching to stroking. Aurora took a step back, dodging my hand. Her delicate yet still childish features held a cold edge. She bent down to pick up the torn pieces of her test paper one by one, clutching them in her hand, then turned and left in silence. I stared at her retreating figure for a few seconds, then raised my voice: “Aurora!” She stopped on the stairs but didn’t turn around. “I remember you have a parent-teacher conference tomorrow? I happen to be free—I’ll go,” I said. “Not necessary.” Aurora flatly refused and continued upstairs. The words I hadn’t spoken stuck in my throat. I sighed quietly to myself, glanced at the mess covering the floor, and ordered someone to clean it up. Then I dialed a number. It rang for a long time before someone on the other end answered leisurely, background noise chaotic. “What is it?” A woman’s voice, her tone light and lilting, humming a tune. A frivolous manner through and through. Yet this was the same woman who, after my death, went mad and destroyed my stepmother’s family—their business collapsed, their family fell apart. My thoughts drifted far away, recalling what I’d witnessed as a wandering soul. My wife, Raven—always promiscuous, living a dissolute life—had red-rimmed eyes, bloodless lips, and none of her usual casual attitude. She used ruthless methods to make everyone who had wronged me pay a terrible price. Actually, I could understand these actions. After all, no matter how bad my relationship with this mother-daughter pair was, I was still the male head of the Lane family, the family’s representative. But Raven had absolutely no reason to die for love with me. After she finished avenging me, she stood by the seaside where we’d held our wedding, holding my urn. She stood there for most of the day, the wind stripping away her usual composure until nothing remained. Only desolation. At the time, my soul floated nearby. I sneered to myself—running around partying every day, and now you finally have some conscience? Then. Under my shocked gaze, she walked step by step toward the deep sea, clutching my urn. Never looking back once. Lonely and resolute. Until the waves rose and covered her, and her figure vanished. Leaving only my soul, deeply shaken. … This damn, childish woman, polluting the waters. When her body bloated and floated up, she’d definitely look hideous. The late-night beach. So quiet. So quiet. My lonely soul seemed trapped in place, yet I also felt a damp, salty wind blow past, disheveling my hair and disturbing my heart.

I gripped my phone tightly against my ear, listening to Raven’s casual voice: “Need money? Or what?” I pressed my lips together: “I broke your perfumes.” Raven let out an “oh,” unconcerned: “Fine. I’m hanging up then.” Before she could disconnect, I quickly spoke: “Where are you?” She paused on the other end. A moment later, all the chaotic music sounds disappeared, leaving silence so complete you could hear a pin drop. “What. You want a divorce?” Raven’s previously lazy tone turned slightly cold in an instant. “After the divorce, where would you go? Back to the Blake family? Would they let you have an easy time? “Did you fight with Aurora again? “You’d better not forget—your business still has my financial backing. “Darling. Shut up now, and I can pretend I didn’t hear anything.” I listened to Raven’s entire string of words in considerable astonishment. I really had no idea how she’d gone from me asking where she was to assuming I wanted a divorce. But I knew she’d always been like this—beneath her seemingly easygoing exterior lay a lofty indifference. She could speak moving words of love with her romantic almond-shaped eyes completely devoid of warmth, and she could easily discard past lovers. She moved between numerous men but never gave her true heart to anyone. And I wasn’t exactly good-tempered myself. In street terms, I was an arrogant, domineering lunatic—especially after I got sick, I became especially tormenting. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have turned the entire Lane household upside down in my previous life. My earlier good mood had come from seeing what they’d done after my death. I’d been so moved that I’d wanted to be gentler with them in this new life. Who knew neither of them would appreciate it. “Fine, let’s divorce right now. Take your daughter and get lost,” I said coldly with a sneer, deliberately saying the opposite of what I meant. As soon as I spoke, I locked eyes with Aurora, who was coming downstairs with books in hand. Her dark eyes showed no discernible emotion. She looked half like her mother, half like me, but her personality resembled neither of us. I wanted to see how they’d react to hearing about divorce.

“You want a divorce?” Aurora stood not far from me, her tone calm. She had a maturity that didn’t match her age. Though… children without parental love do tend to mature earlier. I watched Aurora’s expression carefully, raising an eyebrow almost imperceptibly: “Your mother doesn’t love me, and your relationship with me isn’t even as deep as your relationship with your tutor. What reason do I have to stay with you Lanes?” “No…” Her expression showed no obvious change, but her words stuttered for a brief moment. After a long while, Aurora said flatly, “My mother won’t agree to it.” “Well, that’s not up to her,” I replied. The living room fell quiet for a moment. “Because I won’t let you attend the parent-teacher conference, you want a divorce?” Aurora suddenly asked. I froze. Just like mother, just like daughter—both had such peculiar thought processes. Aurora lowered her eyes, as if making some kind of decision. “…If you want to attend, then attend.” Me: ? I suddenly understood why Aurora was reacting this way. She must think I’d embarrass her at the parent-teacher conference, which is why she didn’t want me to attend. But… she even less wanted me to divorce Raven. My heart softened a little. “…Daddy just wants to know how your studies are going lately.” After a long silence, my voice gentled as I tried taking a step toward Aurora. Her lips parted slightly, as if she wanted to say something. Just then, the villa’s front door opened. Aurora and I both turned to look. Raven’s tall figure stood backlit in the doorway. As Raven strode in on her long legs from the entrance, the hickey on her neck gradually became clear. The air pressure in the villa dropped again and again. Aurora stared at Raven’s neck for several seconds, then didn’t even ask how she was doing. She simply walked around Raven and headed straight outside. I instructed the butler to have someone follow her. The butler smiled: “It’s exactly time for the young miss’s tutoring session. The driver is already waiting at the door.” I paused slightly, then nodded, suppressing my worry. Raven’s gaze met mine. She raised her index finger slightly, and everyone else in the villa left, disappearing from view. “Where did you get the nerve to ask for a divorce?” Raven loosened her collar, her casual manner making it seem like an offhand question. I couldn’t control my gaze—it locked firmly onto her. It was scrutiny, it was questioning, and it was… strange. She was clearly such a cynical person, so why would she, after my death… Raven lazily leaned back on the sofa, crossing her arms as she looked me over, her tone still flippant: “Darling, you’d better remember—the banquet is tomorrow night.” Tomorrow night’s banquet would be attended by several local families, including my birth family. My birth family was very strange. They both hoped I could firmly bind Raven and the Lane family, yet also didn’t want me to have it easy. “You have enough lovers outside. No need to waste your breath calling me ‘darling.’” I smiled without picking up her thread, sitting down beside her. My words contained a deliberately casual probe. After death, as my soul wandered aimlessly, I’d seen many scenes I’d never witnessed before. Like the countless men around Raven—there seemed to be another story there. However, I still needed to explore the specific truth. Raven’s expression became unnatural for a moment. She glanced at me, and the smile at the corner of her mouth faded somewhat. “You’re actually jealous of me?” She seemed to mock herself, seemed to be sarcastic, her fingertips tapping her own thigh intermittently. I took the opportunity to also place my hand on her thigh. The woman beside me immediately froze completely. Raven: ? “Wife,” I lifted my lips provocatively at her, “Although you always think what’s outside is better, but…” Raven stood up almost as if fleeing in panic. She took a deep breath, looking down at me: “Felix, have you lost your mind?” Raven’s ears turned red. But someone experienced in the game of love couldn’t possibly be embarrassed that easily. I pulled at my lips, launching into a continuous stream without pause: “We already have such a big kid—what’s wrong with touching you? Are you so precious that you can’t be touched? We’re not even divorced yet. I’m your legal spouse—is it illegal for me to touch you?” The tension was thick. This was the tone I’d always used when speaking in the Lane household in my previous life. Mm. Except this time, the tension carried a hint of teasing. Loyalty is the foundation of maintaining a marriage. In my previous life, I’d always felt Raven was playing around outside, which disgusted me to death. Naturally, I had no good attitude toward her and was even less willing to be close to her. But now it seemed the previous intelligence had some errors. So my attitude could change accordingly. Raven repeated again: “…You’ve lost your mind.” This time not only her ears but her neck also flushed slightly pink. Just as I thought Raven would fly into an embarrassed rage and turn to leave, the butler rushed over urgently, phone in hand: “Madam, Sir, something’s happened to the young miss!” I frowned, exchanged a glance with Raven, then chose to rush to the school together. After getting in the car, Raven was on the phone with her people: “Figured out the reason?” I turned my head to look at the scenery flying past the window, while listening to Raven’s lazy, careless words on the other end: “Hit someone? Getting arrogant just because I donated a few sums to the school? Tch, making a big fuss—no idea who she inherited that from.” The corner of my mouth twitched hard. She might as well have pointed directly at me. But Aurora was mature and quiet to a frightening degree, completely lacking the innocent and naive appearance other eight-year-old children had. I wanted to refute Raven but held back. I was very puzzled about what could make a child like Aurora resort to hitting someone.

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As a top-tier surgeon, when I announced my resignation and that I would no longer operate, every surgeon in the hospital was thrilled. They even threw a celebration party. But only the intern my wife brought in—hailed as a once-in-a-century medical genius—came to me looking deeply troubled. “Dr. Bennett, even though you made a few mistakes in recent surgeries, your skills are still there. We need you. The patients need you too.” His face was full of earnest concern. If I weren’t the one involved, I might have actually believed him. I turned and walked away without expression. In my previous life, he was an intern who assisted me in surgeries. But during each operation, my body would suddenly lose control, and Dylan would step in at the critical moment to finish the surgery flawlessly. After several instances, he became the medical genius everyone praised, while I became a fraud who didn’t deserve my reputation. To prove my true abilities, I took on a surgery for a patient with a world-class rare condition, despite enormous pressure. I spent sleepless nights researching materials, finding similar cases, and developing a surgical plan. But when I stepped confidently onto the operating table, my body lost control again. Dylan once more stepped in to complete the surgery perfectly—and his surgical approach was exactly the same as what I had planned. He became the miracle doctor in everyone’s eyes, while I became the quack everyone despised. Unable to accept this crushing blow, I ended my life with a scalpel. When I opened my eyes again, I had returned to the day Dylan first arrived at the hospital.

“The patient started hemorrhaging suddenly just now, and our great Dr. Bennett froze completely. Thank God Dylan was there, or we would’ve been in serious trouble.” “And he still calls himself a top surgeon—isn’t he embarrassed? Always putting on that high-and-mighty act. Well, now that we have a genius like Dylan for comparison, how can he even show his face in the operating room anymore?” The familiar mocking voices pulled me back to reality. That’s when I realized—I had been reborn. I ignored their taunts and headed straight to neurology for a full physical examination. The results showed I was completely normal. I suspected the problem lay with Dylan. To test my theory, I immediately took another surgery, but this time I refused to let Dylan into the operating room with me. The surgery began smoothly, but at the most critical moment, my body lost control again. And just then, as if he had somehow known in advance, Dylan rushed in and completed the rest of the surgery. After leaving the operating room, Deputy Director Marcus called me into his office and spoke to me with heartfelt concern. “Bennett, have you been overworking yourself lately? How about I give you a few days off to rest?” “Don’t worry about the hospital. I think that young man Dylan is quite capable—he’s done beautifully on these last few surgeries.” “You’re not getting any younger. Maybe you should consider stepping back to a less demanding position.” I looked at the deputy director in disbelief—my mentor, the man who should know my abilities best. Even he didn’t trust me anymore? My eyes instantly reddened. “Professor, even you don’t believe in my skills anymore?” Seeing my reaction, the deputy director sighed deeply. “You’re my student. Of course I know what you’re capable of.” “But based on your recent performance, I think it’s time for you to step down.” I left the director’s office in a daze and returned to the surgical department. Everyone was gathered around Dylan, asking him about emergency solutions for unexpected complications during surgery. And he generously shared his knowledge, holding nothing back. But what he was saying—it was all experience I had accumulated over the years. How was this possible? This knowledge came from my own summary of over a thousand surgeries. I had never systematically taught it to anyone. Everyone kept exclaiming with admiration. “Dylan, you really are a legendary medical genius. You’ve only been in a few surgeries, yet you can think of so many emergency protocols and execute them so well. Is this just the difference between people?” At that moment, my wife Victoria spotted me through the crowd and pulled her lips into a mocking smile. “Dylan is a true genius—unlike certain people who’ve done so many surgeries yet still get paralyzed with fear during major hemorrhaging. I don’t know how they have the nerve to call themselves a top surgeon.” Dylan followed her gaze to me, his eyes flashing with undisguised satisfaction. “Victoria, don’t talk about Bennett like that. He’s your husband, after all.” “I came here to learn from Dr. Bennett, not to compete with him. Since I have a natural talent for surgery, I should use it properly to save more patients.” His words earned a chorus of praise and approval. At first, everyone had been skeptical of Dylan’s genius, but after he repeatedly rescued critical situations with perfect surgical execution, they gradually became convinced. Even the hospital administration valued him highly and made him a priority for development. He became the miracle doctor everyone competed to work with. My wife and colleagues, who used to revolve around me, all abandoned me to fawn over Dylan instead. I could understand why. In this situation, aligning with Dylan would easily get them more resources and rewards. “Dylan, you’re too generous! Bennett can’t even compare to you. In the last surgery, he was afraid you’d steal his spotlight, so he deliberately kept you out of the operating room. In the end, you still had to clean up his mess.” “Exactly. Whenever I ask him anything, he never answers. He just says he can only teach during actual surgery. I think he just doesn’t know and is making excuses.” “Dylan, you’re the future hope of our surgical department. We’re counting on you.”

I looked coldly at this group of people with Dylan at their center. In my previous life, it was exactly this kind of treatment that drove me to end my life with a scalpel. Instead, it had only benefited Victoria and Dylan. Given a second chance at life, I would take back everything that belonged to me. I turned and left in silence, not returning to the home I shared with Victoria. Instead, I went back to the apartment I had bought for myself before marriage. I couldn’t figure out where things had gone wrong. But I was certain of one thing—this had something to do with Dylan. Even if he were a so-called medical genius, he couldn’t possibly come up with such detailed emergency protocols without sufficient practical experience. More importantly, every time he stole the spotlight, my body would suddenly stop obeying me. What had Dylan done to me? At that thought, a name suddenly flashed through my mind. Yes! Him. I could tell him what was happening to me—maybe he would know how to solve it. I quickly found his phone number and called him. He answered almost immediately. I explained in detail the strange occurrences with my body and Dylan’s suspicious behavior. After a moment of contemplation, he said he would have an answer for me in three days. He told me to avoid contact with Dylan as much as possible during those three days. With his assurance, I felt much more at ease. I immediately requested a week off from the hospital. I had thought I could relax for a few days. But while I was avoiding Dylan, he had no intention of letting me go. On the morning of my third day off, Victoria suddenly called me. Her tone was extremely unfriendly as she interrogated me. “Bennett, why didn’t you tell me you were taking time off?” I had no patience for her anymore. “What does my taking time off have to do with you?” Victoria paused on the other end. But only for a moment. Then she commanded me irritably. “Never mind that. Get to the hospital right now.” I laughed coldly. “I’m on vacation. If you need something, find someone else.” I hung up decisively and turned off my phone. I lay back down in bed, about to fall asleep again. Suddenly, someone started pounding on my door. They were also shouting my name. I looked through the peephole—it was Victoria and Dylan. Not wanting them to disturb my neighbors, I opened the door in annoyance. “Victoria, what do you want?” Seeing me open the door, she grabbed my arm without a word and tried to drag me out. I shook her off forcefully. “Are you insane? Say whatever you need to say here, or I’m calling the police.” Victoria’s face turned ashen. “Come back to the hospital with me right now. There’s a surgery today that you have to perform.” I looked at her entitled attitude and laughed mockingly. “Isn’t Dylan the medical genius? Can’t he just do it? Why do you need me?” Victoria’s face showed nothing but impatience. “Bennett, I’m giving you one last chance. Are you coming back to the hospital with me or not?” “No!” I refused coldly and decisively. She laughed coldly in anger. “You’re forcing my hand.” Then she shoved her phone in my face. A video was playing on the screen. In the video, a woman was trying to press an envelope of cash into my hands, which I refused. The next second, she was crying and kneeling in front of me, begging desperately. I remembered this incident. The woman’s son had suffered a sudden stroke, and I had treated him. After the surgery, the woman tried to give me money privately to thank me for saving her son’s life. When I refused, she immediately knelt in front of me, crying and pleading. I looked at Victoria in confusion. “Why are you showing me this?” Victoria’s lips curved into a provocative smile. “Don’t rush. Keep watching.” The recorded video ended, and the woman who had been kneeling before me appeared on camera. Dressed in shabby clothes, she tearfully accused me in front of the camera. “It was this Dr. Bennett who caused my son to become paralyzed.” “At the time, he refused to operate on my son because he thought the money I offered him privately wasn’t enough, and we missed the optimal treatment window.” “But I really couldn’t come up with more money. It’s my fault for being useless and harming my son.” The video ended there. Victoria threatened me with a cold laugh. “If you don’t obediently come back with me today, I’ll post this online and completely destroy your reputation!” I looked at Victoria in disbelief. I never imagined she would frame me like this for Dylan’s sake. “Fine. I’ll go back with you.” Since you want me back so badly, I’ll grant your wish—just don’t regret it later.

As soon as I stepped through the hospital entrance, Dr. Rachel, the head of surgery, grabbed me and rushed me inside. “Bennett, thank God you’re here. We just got a car accident victim with intracranial hemorrhaging, and we also discovered an intracranial aneurysm.” “You’re the only one in our hospital who’s performed this type of surgery. Get ready quickly.” I asked about the patient’s condition in detail—there was no immediate life-threatening danger for now. I watched Dylan preparing to change into his surgical scrubs and said calmly: “Director, as you know about my recent situation, I’m really not in any condition to perform surgery.” Hearing my words, the director’s face flashed with hesitation, but she couldn’t think of anyone more suitable than me. Watching the director’s forehead break out in sweat from anxiety, I tentatively suggested: “Director, don’t panic yet. I’ll find someone to come over. They should make it in time.” Dylan, who had just been looking pleased, suddenly went pale. Before the director could respond, he anxiously objected. “No!” The director and I both looked at him. His face showed a flash of awkwardness. “I mean… the patient might not be able to wait. Since Dr. Bennett is here, just let Dr. Bennett do it.” The director looked at me somewhat hesitantly. “Bennett, why don’t you go ahead and do it?” Before I could speak, Dylan’s eyes turned red with urgency. “Dr. Bennett, I know you’re still angry at me for stealing your spotlight, but you really can’t just watch someone die.” As he spoke, his eyes filled with tears. Seeing him cry, Victoria’s face filled with heartache, and she looked at me with an even darker expression. “Bennett, that’s enough! I never realized you were such a cold-blooded person.” “Just go do the surgery and let Dylan assist you.” I looked at her coldly. “How am I being cold-blooded? I understand my own condition. I’m not suitable to perform such a complex surgery right now.” “And I already said I would find someone to replace me for this surgery.” My words left Victoria speechless. But then Dylan suddenly dropped to his knees in front of me, crying. “Dr. Bennett, I was wrong. I can resign. I’ll never appear in front of you again.” “But the patient in the operating room really can’t wait. I’m begging you on his behalf—please save him.” His actions instantly ignited the anger of everyone present against me. “Is this even a doctor? This is a butcher.” “How can he be so cold-blooded, refusing to save a life?” Then someone shouted: “I just saw online that someone exposed him—he refuses surgery when families don’t give him money under the table.” This was like adding fuel to fire, pushing everyone’s anger to its peak. No one would listen to my explanations anymore. The scene instantly descended into chaos, with people rushing at me to attack. “Beat this heartless doctor who refuses to save lives to death!” “Kill him!” I was surrounded by the crowd. I don’t know who kicked my knee viciously. “You beast, get down on your knees!” I collapsed in pain, clearly hearing the sound of bone cracking. Then someone grabbed my hair and slammed my head against the floor. “You unscrupulous doctor who values money over lives—confess!” My forehead instantly began bleeding, and my vision kept going dark. Unable to resist, I could only curl up on the ground with my arms protecting my head while the crowd beat me. Their fists rained down on me like a storm. I don’t know who kicked me viciously in the abdomen—I immediately spat out a mouthful of blood. Only then did security arrive to control the angry mob. The director and several colleagues helped me up as I was about to lose consciousness. Looking up, I saw the satisfaction in Dylan’s eyes. He wanted to force me to perform this surgery, then use the same trick again. He wanted to step on me to gain higher honors while I would be completely destroyed with no chance of recovery. He was paving his path to advancement with my flesh and blood. “Dr. Bennett, please just agree. Otherwise, we can’t save you either.” Dylan’s expression was earnest as he pressured me once more. I silently scanned the faces of everyone present—angry ones, mocking ones, and those waiting to see me humiliated. Among them were patients I had treated. But now they all glared at me like I was their enemy. Just then, my phone rang.

I answered and listened silently, then couldn’t help but pull my lips into a mocking smile. Seeing this, the crowd became angry again and wanted to rush at me. “He’s still smiling! Absolutely cold-blooded—not even human! Beat him to death!” But I suddenly bowed deeply to the crowd. “I’m sorry. As you can all see, in my current condition, I simply cannot perform surgery.” As I spoke, I raised my right hand, which had been trampled until it was covered in blood, my fingers hanging limply. A flash of panic crossed the eyes of those who had just beaten me, but they quickly became self-righteous again. “We beat you because you value money over lives—you don’t deserve to be a doctor!” “Since everyone thinks I’m unworthy, then I hereby announce that from today forward, I’m stepping back from the front lines and will no longer perform surgery.” I looked calmly at Dylan’s face, which was gradually turning deathly pale. I wanted to see how he could still be a medical genius without me. Hearing this, everyone present first froze, then someone shouted “good” first. “Good! At least you have some conscience and know when to get lost.” Some colleagues who had long been unhappy with me showed delight on their faces, quietly celebrating. “I’ve been annoyed with him for ages. Finally, he’s gone.” Although the director still seemed somewhat hesitant, I could see she was secretly relieved. “That’s fine. You’ve been exhausted all these years—it’s time to rest.” I swept my gaze coldly over everyone. Most of their faces showed varying degrees of pleasure. Among them were patients I had treated, and doctors I had trained personally. Some of them—I had taught their skills. Some of them—I had saved their jobs. And some of them—I had saved their lives. But they seemed to have forgotten all of that. Now they were all unanimously gloating over my failure. But Victoria and Dylan, who should have been the happiest, looked extremely unpleasant at this moment. Dylan’s eyes were full of panic as he grabbed me before I could leave. “Dr. Bennett, you can’t leave. The patient in the operating room is still waiting for you to save them.” “I took your class in college, and I still remember how you emphasized to us repeatedly that human life is paramount.” “I know you’re a good doctor who just made a mistake.” “But as long as you’re willing to change, we’ll all forgive you.” I laughed coldly and shook him off. “Dylan, are you blind? My hand can’t even hold a scalpel right now—how am I supposed to perform surgery?” Hearing this, Dylan thought there might still be room for negotiation, and a flash of delight crossed his face. “Dr. Bennett, you don’t have to operate yourself. Just be my assistant and guide me through it from the side.” I looked at him coldly. “Dylan, aren’t you a medical genius?” “Several times before, you had to finish my surgeries. I believe your abilities surpass mine.” “Even without me, you can handle this surgery, can’t you?” Seeing me so stubborn, Dylan’s tears were about to fall. Victoria also blocked my path, her face still wearing that cold expression. “Bennett! Enough with the tantrum!” “Dylan is doing this for your own good.” “Your reputation is already bad. If you do this surgery, you might still have a chance to turn things around.” I stared at her coldly, enunciating each word clearly. “I don’t need it!” Victoria’s expression grew even darker. “Why have you become so unreasonable?” “I’m warning you—if you don’t go into that operating room today, we’re getting divorced.” I smiled mockingly. “Victoria, do you think I can continue living with you?” “I’ve already retained a lawyer. The divorce papers will be delivered to you tomorrow.” Victoria froze. She couldn’t believe I would initiate a divorce. After all, for the past ten-plus years, I had been the one desperately maintaining this household. I prepared carefully for her birthday every year. I prepared everything for all our anniversaries and practically dragged her to celebrate them. I had never refused any of her requests. I had carefully protected our relationship and managed our marriage. She couldn’t believe I would give up on my feelings for her so easily. Victoria didn’t stop me again. I walked right past her. But Dylan still wasn’t ready to give up. He rushed in front of me. With a “thud,” he knelt before me again, crying bitterly. “Dr. Bennett, I’m begging you. You just need to enter the operating room—I’ll handle everything else.” Seeing the crowd getting agitated again because of his performance, I rolled my eyes and fainted on the spot.

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My neighbor next door, Victoria, who suffers from gout, loves stealing my food delivery. She even gossips about me in the community group chat: “Only losers order takeout every single day!” I smiled coldly and started doing my research, customizing a meal plan just for her. “Foods gout patients must absolutely avoid.” “Which foods raise uric acid levels the most.” Since she wants to eat my food so badly, I’ll let her eat her fill! On my way home from work, I ordered a spicy pizza. The delivery guy arrived before me, so I told him to leave it at my door. A minute later, I stepped out of the elevator to find my doorstep completely empty. Looking around, I spotted sauce drippings on the floor, forming a trail that led straight to the door across from mine — Vincent Parker’s place. I walked over and knocked, wanting to get to the bottom of this. A chubby woman with smeared makeup and tacky pajamas appeared at the door, her face showing clear impatience. From her appearance, this must be Victoria, the granddaughter that old Mr. Parker had mentioned just moved in. I politely asked, “Hello, did you happen to see my food delivery?” She rolled her eyes rudely. “I’ve been home this whole time and haven’t stepped outside. Where would I have seen your takeout?” If it weren’t for the sauce stains on the floor and the food remnants at the corner of her mouth, I might have actually believed her. Before I could say anything more, she slammed the door hard in my face. I shook my head with a bitter smile. Must be hunger making me delirious. You need solid evidence to catch a thief, after all. This wasn’t the first time my delivery had gone missing. The thief wasn’t picky — from ten-dollar coffee to thirty-dollar desserts, even fifty-dollar pizzas — she took it all. I hadn’t had a specific suspect before, but today was just too suspicious. When I got on the elevator, the delivery guy had just reached my door. From the time he set it down to when I got back, it couldn’t have been more than a minute. That was way too fast. Thinking back carefully, my deliveries only started disappearing after Victoria moved in. Just days after moving in, she posted this weird statement in the community group chat: “Men these days don’t know how to manage money — total wastrels!” “Normal people cook their own food. Only losers order takeout!” At the time, I just figured she had weird opinions and ignored her. But then she escalated and even had the nerve to @ me directly. Of course I wasn’t going to let that slide! I replied directly: “I know you’re blunt, but you can’t just run your mouth without thinking!” “If you love sticking your nose in other people’s business so much, maybe focus on yourself first.” After that, Victoria looked at me like she wanted to murder me with her eyes every time we crossed paths. Starving and frustrated, I complained to my buddy Jackson. He said helplessly, “Are you an idiot? Don’t you have a security camera at your door? Just check the playback.” I slapped my forehead. I was so hungry I’d forgotten about the camera I’d just installed because of the repeated thefts. I quickly pulled up the footage on my phone. My instincts were right on the money. The takeout thief was Victoria. In the surveillance video, she sneaked out of her place like a ghost, grabbed the delivery, and bolted. In her haste, some sauce spilled out and dripped all over the floor. As she ran, she muttered under her breath: “Pizza? This guy throws money around like crazy!” “What a wastrel!” I was fuming mad. Vincent seemed like such a gentle old man — how could he have such a bizarre granddaughter? After hearing my complaint, Jackson looked at me like I was an idiot: “Haven’t you heard that family influence matters?” “If you don’t believe me, keep watching the playback.” I didn’t believe it at first, but the surveillance footage slapped me hard in the face.

Victoria opened the door and smoothly picked up my delivery while Vincent stood nearby, keeping watch. The usually kind-looking old man seemed like a different person — brow furrowed, eyes narrowed, he spat viciously: “Takeout again. This kid really is wasteful! Anyone ending up with a partner like this would be furious.” He bent down and examined the potted plant by my door carefully. “Victoria, does this thing need a battery change? If it runs out of power, it won’t capture anything.” I zoomed in on a screenshot, and a chill ran from my feet up my spine. On the pattern painted on the flowerpot, there was a tiny hole poked in one spot, with a hidden camera positioned to aim directly at my doorway. The flowerpot was a housewarming gift Vincent had given me. I’d said I was worried about not taking good care of it, and he’d thoughtfully told me to put it by my door, saying he’d help look after it when he had time. Turns out there was a pinhole camera hidden inside it. At that moment, Victoria spoke up angrily: “That damn guy is so difficult to deal with. I already took the advance payment, and a whole batch of clients are waiting to see.” “He covers himself up completely every time he goes out. Who does he think he’s fooling?” “Didn’t you say you’d already gained his trust? How is there still no progress?” “Hurry up and get smarter about this. Build a good relationship with him and get equipment inside his place as soon as possible.” “The people in the group love his hot looks. If we can capture some private footage and sell it, I’ll really strike it rich.” The two of them whispered by my door for quite a while. I understood now — Victoria was the admin of an illegal voyeurism group, making money by posting secretly filmed photos and videos of handsome guys. Good thing I always dressed pretty conservatively when going out, or they really would have succeeded. Their scheme was perfectly designed: use an elderly person to lower a young single man’s guard, build trust through calculated concern, and gain entry to the home. Install equipment, film secretly, and profit. If it weren’t for the repeated missing deliveries, I never would have discovered that the kind-looking Vincent was actually a wolf in human clothing. Judging by how well they worked together, I definitely wasn’t their first target. Who knows how many people had already fallen victim to them. After muttering for ages, looking all sneaky, they clearly weren’t cooking up anything good. Sure enough, they carefully cut a small opening in my doormat and installed another pinhole camera, apparently hoping to capture my private moments. Mission accomplished, Vincent lovingly patted Victoria’s head: “My smart granddaughter.” “This kid puts on airs all the time, but I saw through his true colors ages ago. Spending dozens, even hundreds on a single meal — that money definitely didn’t come from honest work!” “By filming him, we’re exposing him! He’ll probably end up begging us for mercy!” There were only two households on this floor, and my door camera was positioned pretty discreetly, so they didn’t notice it. The two of them treated me like prey already in the bag, making crude comments about me right there in the hallway. The video ended, and my heart turned cold. Human hearts could be so wicked. The kind-looking Vincent was actually a wolf in human skin. At least it wasn’t too late. Let’s see who’s better at this game!

The next morning, Vincent knocked on my door bright and early. His face was full of benevolent smiles, and he held a bouquet of trendy preserved flowers. “Connor, I’m so sorry. I failed you — didn’t help you keep an eye on things properly.” “Didn’t you say real flowers were too much trouble to care for? I heard these preserved flowers are really popular, and they smell wonderful in the home. I’m giving them to you as an apology.” If I hadn’t watched that surveillance footage, I really would have been fooled by his sincere expression. So he wants to play pretend? I can do that too. I put on a delighted expression and accepted the preserved flowers. “Oh my God! I’m so happy! I’ve wanted these for ages but couldn’t get them! You’re amazing for finding them!” “I won’t be polite then. Thank you so much!” The preserved flowers in my arms bloomed wildly and passionately, giving off an alluring fragrance. But what I was thinking was: “So where exactly did they hide the camera?” Back home, to avoid tipping them off, I placed the preserved flowers on the dining table. Ha, you want to spy on me? Fine, I’ll just live normally and see what you can do. I reviewed everything while thinking about how to get revenge. Never letting evildoers off the hook was my principle for dealing with the world. Such a vicious woman and bad old man had to be punished, had to be sent to the police station to be done with it. But before that, I wanted to play with them a bit. Let them know what it means to kick a steel plate. While going about my normal activities in front of the preserved flowers, I heard commotion outside the door. I tiptoed to the door and looked out. The pudgy Victoria was pointing at Vincent’s nose and cursing: “You useless old bastard, you can’t even cook a decent meal. What good are you?” “If it weren’t for you, how would my parents have died? How would I have ended up like this? If you keep being useless, get out of this house. I don’t support deadweight!” Victoria cursed while slamming her door hard as she went back inside. Vincent sobbed pitifully, looking quite miserable. If I didn’t know the truth, I’d definitely sympathize with an elderly man being verbally abused by his granddaughter like this, and might even invite him into my home to comfort him. That way he’d push for more, establish deeper contact with me, and everything would become even more convenient for him. Vincent cried sorrowfully while stealing glances toward my door. Not a bad performance with this sob story. Through the pinhole camera in the preserved flowers, they knew I was home, so they put on this act. He sat on the floor wailing while heavily slapping his own thighs: “Why am I not dead yet? Why am I still alive?” “God, just take me away.” “I’m only doing this for your own good. The doctor said your uric acid is high and you can’t eat those things.” To make his performance more convincing, Vincent’s words revealed his daily dissatisfaction with Victoria. I sneered and walked away from the door. “What’s the rush? Karma always comes around.”

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Our family was so poor we could barely afford to eat, yet the lottery ticket I casually bought won five million dollars. My brother’s eyes turned red as he lunged at me, snatching the ticket and trying to tear it up. My dad, who usually doted on me most, held a knife to my throat: “If you don’t tear up that thing, I’ll cut off your hands today.” Even my mom, bedridden and waiting for life-saving money, propped up her weak body and crawled over, crying out in terror: “You can’t claim the prize.” To stop me from claiming the prize, my family tied me up in the basement and threw in a starving wolf-dog. In the end, I was mauled to death by that beast. When I opened my eyes again, I had returned to the day I won the lottery. My brother was holding two stale pieces of bread, smiling as he handed them to me. “Stella, once our family has money, we can take you out for your favorite pasta.” “By the way, did that lottery ticket you bought win anything?” Hearing his concerned voice, I snapped back to reality. Looking at the familiar lottery ticket in my hand, I realized I had been reborn—reborn to the day I won the lottery. In my previous life, I occasionally bought lottery tickets, and my whole family hoped that one day I’d win big and we could live a good life. Our family was very poor. I had already dropped out of school because we couldn’t afford the tuition. My brother was about to get married, but if we couldn’t scrape together money for a house soon, his girlfriend would break up with him. When Dad was working as a security guard, he accidentally damaged a resident’s luxury car and still owed a huge compensation payment. And Mom had kidney failure and was waiting for money to stay alive. The whole family struggled even to eat enough—every meal was just nibbling on bread. Yesterday, I dreamed of a set of lottery numbers. The moment I woke up, I went to the lottery store and bought a ticket. After the drawing, I checked repeatedly and confirmed I’d won the jackpot. I excitedly told my brother, who was in the kitchen slicing bread. He took the ticket, looked closely at it, and his smile froze on his face, replaced by a look of terror. Without a word, he tried to tear up the ticket. I quickly snatched it back and said urgently: “Once we claim the prize, our family will have money! You can buy a house and get married, and Mom will have money for treatment.” But my brother acted as if he couldn’t hear me, frantically fighting me for the ticket. In the chaos, desperate, I bit down hard on his hand. He cried out in pain and staggered back a few steps. My brother’s eyes were bloodshot, his face twisted as he roared at me: “Stella, you can’t claim that prize! Tear up the ticket now!” That terrifying look left me frozen in place, trembling all over. Just then, Dad came home. Seeing my brother cornering me, he didn’t say a word—just slapped my brother on the back of the head: “How dare you bully your sister!” My brother pointed at me with a shaking finger, his voice breaking: “She dreamed of a lottery number sequence and bought a ticket that won five million dollars!” Hearing this, the anger on Dad’s face instantly turned to terror. His eyes went wide as he rushed into the kitchen like a madman, grabbed a knife, and charged at me. “Tear up that winning ticket right now, or I’ll kill you!” Dad’s knife was about to come down when Mom came in just in time and shielded me. “Have you lost your mind? You’re going to use a knife on our daughter!” Dad gave a cold laugh. “Stella’s lottery ticket won.” “So what? Stella’s always been lucky—she wins five or ten dollars all the time.” “It’s the jackpot. Five million dollars.” Mom, who had just been protecting me, turned deathly pale, as if she’d seen a ghost. She shoved me out of her arms and shook her head frantically: “No, no, you can’t.” At that moment I realized my whole family didn’t want me to claim the prize. I waved my hands frantically, trying to explain: “This money isn’t just mine! With this money, my brother can start a family, Dad won’t have to hide from creditors, Mom can get treatment and surgery, and I can go back to college. This is a miracle for us!” But neither parent paid me any attention. They frowned and exchanged panicked glances. Then Dad spoke: “We can’t let her leave the house anymore.” Mom’s face darkened. “I have an idea. Lock her in the basement with the wolf-dog.” I stood frozen, my whole body numb, unable to believe what I was hearing. I couldn’t understand why, after learning I’d won five million dollars, they’d all changed completely. Our whole family desperately needed money. This windfall should have been a blessing, so why had things turned out this way? Before I could figure it out, my parents started dragging me toward the basement. In my panic, I turned and tried to run, but my brother grabbed me. I cried and begged them to let me go, even saying that if they didn’t trust me, I’d give them the ticket and let them claim the prize. However, they turned a deaf ear to my pleas and forced me into the dark, stinking basement. They wouldn’t let me eat or drink, and they put a starving wolf-dog in the basement with me. My whole family knew that I’d been bitten by a wild dog as a child and was terrified of dogs. The moment I saw the wolf-dog, I nearly collapsed in fear. I pounded on the door with all my strength, begging them to let me out. But no matter how much I cried and screamed, no one responded. The wolf-dog suddenly lunged at me and tore a chunk of flesh from my thigh. The intense smell of blood rushed into my nose. I passed out from the pain. After one night, my parents and brother came to the basement to see me. My mom asked with a smile: “Stella, you must be hungry? I brought you some bread.” I laughed bitterly, not understanding how she could act like nothing had happened. I demanded like a madwoman: “Why? Why are you doing this to me?” The smile vanished from her face instantly, replaced by cold indifference. Dad’s face also darkened, his eyes full of disgust. Then he kicked me in the chest. “You ungrateful bastard.” The pain made it hard for me to even breathe. A terrifying coldness churned in Mom’s eyes as the corners of her mouth curved into a chilling arc. “Since Stella doesn’t want to eat bread, let’s bring in a few more wolf-dogs to keep her company.” “These beasts have all been specially trained. They know how to ‘entertain’ disobedient brats.” Then they released several wolf-dogs that surrounded and trapped me, tearing at me viciously. My two arms were torn clean off. In less than a day, I died in excruciating pain. Even in death, I didn’t understand why they wanted to kill me after learning I’d won five million dollars. The terror from my previous life surged through me. I clutched the lottery ticket tightly and took a deep breath. This time, I had to find out the truth.

This time, I didn’t tell my brother I’d won. I thought that as long as I didn’t let him know I’d won five million, nothing bad would happen. But unexpectedly, my brother smiled and asked: “Stella, I saw you go buy a lottery ticket yesterday. Did you win anything?” My heart skipped a beat. I smiled and said: “No, it’s not that easy to win.” “You’re so careless. Give the ticket to me and I’ll check for you—maybe you got it wrong.” “No need, I just checked the numbers one by one. I really didn’t win. Don’t you trust me?” “It’s not that. What if you did win and you made a mistake? Our family would miss out on an opportunity. It won’t hurt for me to take another look.” I deliberately put the ticket in my pocket. “You just don’t trust me. I won’t let you see it.” My brother thought I was being playful. He smiled and patted my head, then stuffed the bread into my hand. “Fine, fine, I won’t look. You must be hungry—eat up.” I took the bread and headed out. “The weather’s nice. I’m going out for some air.” I decided to leave the house first and calm my panicked mind. But the moment I turned into the alley, my heart suddenly clenched—the ticket in my pocket was gone! My blood froze instantly. I immediately turned and ran back. When I caught sight of our front door from a distance, I saw my brother standing there, deathly pale and rigid. The ticket that should have been in my pocket was now in his hand. He raised his hand to tear it, but I rushed over, snatched the ticket back, and ran. I heard him roar behind me: “Stella, you can’t claim that prize!” In my previous life, even until I died, I never understood why my brother, who had loved and doted on me since childhood, would change so completely the moment he learned I’d won big. The viciousness in his eyes was something I’d never seen before. My brother chased me desperately. My stamina was no match for his, and he caught up quickly. I trembled all over and screamed: “Help! My brother’s trying to kill me!” The alley was full of familiar neighbors. Hearing my shouts, they all came out to see what was happening. My brother clearly hadn’t expected this. Seeing I couldn’t escape, I turned and dropped to my knees before him, crying: “Why? We’re about to have a good life—why do you want to tear up that ticket?” My brother ground his teeth and cursed under his breath: “Shut up, you bastard!” He tried to drag me away, but just then, some of the watching neighbors hurried over. Mr. Thompson from next door forcibly pulled him away from me. “How can you hit your own sister?” The other neighbors started talking among themselves. “I just heard you shouting about winning the lottery—that’s wonderful news! Why would you hit her?” “Even if she’s your sister, you can’t hit her! Hitting people is illegal! If you try anything else, we’re calling the police.” My brother’s breathing was rapid, veins bulging in his neck as he glared at me viciously. But surrounded by the crowd, he couldn’t do anything. Suddenly, he smiled at something behind me. Confused, I turned around and saw Dad approaching.

From a distance, Dad saw my brother and me surrounded by the crowd and his brow furrowed deeply. It was obvious something had happened. Seeing Dad approach, my body tensed up sharply, my nails digging deep into my palms. The neighbors all talked at once, complaining to Dad that my brother had laid hands on me. Dad immediately flew into a rage, raising his hand to slap my brother’s face. Just as the slap was about to land, my brother shouted: “Stella won a five-million-dollar jackpot!” “That’s not true! My brother made a mistake!” My eyes reddened with anxiety, my voice trembling. “It’s absolutely true! I even took a photo of the ticket.” My brother’s tone was agitated as he eagerly showed his phone to Dad. The moment Dad’s gaze fell on the screen, his eyes trembled slightly. Then he stared fixedly at the image, frozen in place. I called out anxiously: “Dad…” When he looked at me again, Dad’s eyes were bloodshot. He raised his hand and slapped me hard across the face. “He told you to tear up that ticket—why didn’t you listen!” My heart was utterly shattered, yet I still bit down hard and argued: “The family really needs money. Mom’s illness needs treatment, you need money to pay your debts, my brother needs to get married, and I want to go back to school.” “You heartless bastard, how dare you talk back to me!” Dad rushed over, pressing my head hard against the wall with one hand while the other went for my pocket. Just then Mom rushed over, pushing Dad away forcefully and shielding me behind her. “What are you doing? Stella’s forehead is bleeding!” Mom yelled at Dad. But Dad wasn’t angry. He just laughed coldly: “You feel sorry for her, but this heartless bastard doesn’t deserve to be our child.” After Dad said this, all the neighbors were shocked. Everyone knew that Dad usually loved me, his daughter, the most—treating me like a precious gem. No one could believe he would say such things about his own daughter. Mom clutched her chest in anger and asked: “What on earth happened?” My brother handed over his phone. I quickly blocked Mom, looking at her with pleading eyes. “Mom, don’t look at it. Don’t believe them.” I knew that once Mom looked at the phone and learned I’d won the jackpot, she would immediately disown me as her daughter. Mom held me in her arms, softly comforting me: “Don’t worry. Your dad and brother are probably just confused about something. Once I figure it out, everything will be fine.” I shook my head desperately: “No, Mom, don’t believe them. If you believe what they’re saying, you won’t love me anymore.” “Stella, don’t worry. No matter what happens, I’ll be on your side. I love you more than anyone in the world.” She looked at me with gentle eyes, trying to reassure me. Just then Dad lost his patience and shouted at Mom: “She won a five-million-dollar jackpot! The ticket’s in her pocket.” After hearing Dad’s words, Mom’s face changed drastically. Her originally gentle features became twisted, a sinister gleam flashing in her eyes, frightening me so much I trembled all over. Her face went pale as she forced out a stiff, bitter smile and looked at me.

Unlike Dad and my brother’s agitation, Mom’s abnormally calm reaction sent chills through me, making my skin crawl. Her voice was ice-cold: “This is good news, Stella. Come on, let’s go home and celebrate.” But there was no joy in those words, not a trace of a smile on her face, and the hand she extended toward me was trembling slightly. Clearly she was barely holding herself together, desperately suppressing her emotions. “No, I don’t want to go home.” I scrambled to my feet in panic, stumbling backward into the crowd. Mom’s brow furrowed into a dark cloud, her eyes revealing a sinister, vicious look as she demanded coldly: “Stella, what are you doing? It’s getting dark—if you won’t go home, where will you go?” My parents were about to grab me. I quickly grabbed onto a neighbor, pleading through my tears: “Please save me! I can’t go back with them—they’ll kill me!” The neighbors looked at each other in confusion. Everyone knew that our family doted on me. Even if I did something wrong, it was only natural for my parents to discipline me. Outsiders really had no place interfering. Just as everyone hesitated, Mrs. Martinez stepped forward. “The child seems to have something on her mind. Don’t force her.” “That’s right. Stella’s always been such a good kid. Talk it out nicely—don’t use force. Look how scared the child is.” But my parents seemed consumed by rage, unable to hear any advice. Their faces twisted as they closed in on me. “Stella, are you having some kind of episode? Stop spouting nonsense!” “Come home with us right now! Stop making a scene!” As soon as the words left their mouths, Dad and my brother came forward without another word and grabbed me. Seeing this, Mrs. Martinez hurried to block them. “Don’t be so rough with the child! What if you scare her badly?” “I’m disciplining my own daughter—it’s none of your business!” Dad’s eyes were red as he roared at Mrs. Martinez. Mrs. Martinez was elderly after all—there was no way she could stop my strong young brother. I felt my wrist gripped tightly as I was forcibly dragged out, the rough ground scraping my knees painfully. The watching neighbors, no matter how kind-hearted, wouldn’t dare fight my parents for me. Just then, a pair of hands blocked my brother’s path. “Who said you could drag a young girl around like that!” Hearing this stern rebuke, my brother finally let go. It turned out a neighbor had called the police. Seeing the officers, Mom quickly explained: “Officers, this is our daughter. It’s getting late and she won’t come home. We’re worried about her safety, so we wanted to bring her back.” The officer turned his gaze to me. I immediately protested loudly: “That’s not true! I won a big prize and they want to take me back and lock me up!” The three people behind me stood frozen, their expressions unspeakably strange. “If you don’t believe me, ask the neighbors. My family’s been acting really weird since they found out I won.” The officer asked around the crowd. The neighbors confirmed one after another that my family’s attitude had indeed been suspicious. After getting confirmation, one officer questioned them sternly: “Why are you trying to stop the child from claiming her prize? Are you worried she’ll keep all the money? But the child already said the money would be for the whole family.” My parents sneered disdainfully. “We don’t care about any prize money. We just want to bring our daughter home.” “Illegally restricting someone’s personal freedom is against the law.” The officer’s tone grew more serious. But they still looked completely unconcerned. I anxiously grabbed the officer’s sleeve: “I just want to know why they’d rather break the law than let me claim the prize. Why do they have to lock me up?” Under the police’s stern questioning, Dad reluctantly handed over his phone, his movements full of resistance. When I saw clearly what was on the phone, I finally understood why they wouldn’t let me claim the prize.

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Before our honeymoon, my husband secretly canceled our tickets behind my back. He switched to a flight for a solo trip with the girl he grew up with. He even booked a romantic hotel. Even his buddies couldn’t stand it and tried to talk him out of it: [“Isn’t this going too far? Jasmine has been looking forward to this for so long.”] But Frederick just brushed off their advice without a care. [“It’s Lily’s birthday wish—one last solo trip together before the wedding.”] [“Jasmine always makes a fuss over these little things. It’s getting annoying.”] [“This time, it’ll teach her a lesson.”] The Lily that Frederick mentioned was the delicate girl he’d known since childhood. And I was Jasmine, the one who apparently got on everyone’s nerves. I didn’t argue or make a scene. I pretended to know nothing. Quietly, I canceled the honeymoon, bought a one-way ticket to another country. My phone lagged as the ticket cancellation page kept loading. Meanwhile, on the pink tablet, the group chat named [“Snow White and Her Seven Dwarves”] kept lighting up with notifications. I opened the chat. Lily’s profile picture immediately dominated the entire screen. [Princess]: What’s your problem? [Princess]: Every single one of you is taking Jasmine’s side. Someone who didn’t know better would think you’d all slept with her. [Princess]: Right, right, it’s all my fault. [Princess]: I’m the bitch. I shouldn’t have a birthday, and I definitely shouldn’t have wished for Frederick to go on a solo trip with me. [Princess]: I should be like all of you—Jasmine’s loyal dogs. [Princess]: You’re the real family. I’m just the outsider. Happy now? Frederick, who’d been radio silent in my messages for two days claiming he was “busy,” replied instantly in the group. He tagged the other six guys with a single [?] A row of dwarf avatars immediately backpedaled: [Our bad, our bad.] [It’s just a solo trip, isn’t it? If Princess Lily asks, forget Frederick going—] [All six of us will tag along as bodyguards.] Lily cursed them out: [Get lost. Jasmine is your real master.] Dwarf: [Jasmine? She’s nothing. They had a wedding but never registered the marriage.] [Getting dumped is practically guaranteed at this point.] I blinked, staring at this chat that was far too lively without me in it. If Lily hadn’t left her tablet in Frederick’s car, I wouldn’t even have had the privilege of witnessing this joy. I’d still be foolishly planning our itinerary, excited for our honeymoon. My phone buzzed. Finally, the cancellation confirmation popped up. I stared at the empty itinerary, silent for a long moment. Returning to the main screen, I entered a new destination and made a call. “Mom, I’ll go to Australia with you.”

On the other end, Mom immediately sensed something was wrong. After all, she’d only turned down the opportunity to go abroad because of me. “Mom, I know you have a lot of questions.” But right now, I didn’t have the emotional capacity to explain this sudden turn of events. “I’ve already made up my mind. Once I finish work and get my visa, I’ll go with you.” “I’ll explain everything then.” Mom went silent for a few seconds but ultimately didn’t press further. After hanging up, I collapsed on the couch, trying to calm the emotions surging inside me. Frederick’s buddies were right. We’d only had a wedding ceremony, never legally registered the marriage. Everything could change easily. Just like now—I didn’t need to wait for him to come home to discuss a divorce. I suppressed the churning emotions and forced myself to start packing. In the closet, the neatly pressed matching outfits seemed to mock me with their grins. I’d designed them myself for our honeymoon photoshoot with Frederick. I’d stayed up countless nights, revising them over and over, and only received the finished pieces today. Just half an hour ago, I’d been eagerly waiting for Frederick to come home so we could try them on. Now, I yanked months of hard work off the hangers and shoved everything into the trash. By the time I finished packing and wheeled my suitcase out the door, it was already midnight. The elevator doors opened. A familiar voice echoed down the hallway. “Frederick, say it!” “You’re a dog!” “Bark for me!” Through my blurred, stinging vision, I saw Frederick—who hadn’t come home in three days—carrying Lily on his back. Her face was flushed red. One hand grabbed his ear while the other pulled at his hair. She was forcing him to bark like a dog. Frederick reached up to control Lily’s flailing hands. The designer heels hooked on his fingers slipped and clattered to the floor. The sound echoed. All the lights flicked on. Frederick saw me. His hand loosened slightly, and Lily slid off his back.

“Lily’s drunk,” he said with a frown. Actually, I didn’t know why he felt the need to explain. After all, when he moved in with me, Lily bought the unit right above ours the very next day. When she showed up at our door with a grin, pulling Frederick into playful roughhousing and declaring, “I’ll always be one step ahead of you, Frederick. I’ll always be the woman who matters most to you!” Frederick didn’t explain then either. All he said was, “Jasmine, you know what our relationship is.” After all, they grew up together. Their families had watched them grow up. Once upon a time, they were everyone’s dream couple. Until Frederick changed his mind in college and actively pursued me for three whole years. He thought that was proof enough of his innocence with Lily. I’d spiraled countless times before—worrying, caring, arguing. But now, whatever happened between them had nothing to do with me anymore. I glanced away indifferently and simply said, “Yeah, understandable.” Then I started to push my suitcase toward the exit. It was clearly the answer he wanted, yet Frederick seemed displeased. He grabbed my wrist. His voice carried a trace of barely concealed mockery. “What did you say?” “I said—” I exhaled and looked at Frederick calmly. “We’re done. I’m breaking up with you.” The air fell silent for a few seconds. A low laugh escaped Frederick’s throat. “So you’re just going to keep making a scene?” “Besides… Jasmine, don’t forget—we had our wedding just last week.” “Even if you want to throw a tantrum, you should at least say divorce now.” To Frederick, both “breakup” and “divorce” seemed like joke words. He looked at me lazily, like he was indulging a petulant little girl throwing a tantrum. I had no intention of arguing with him. I tugged at the corner of my mouth. “Whatever you say.” But I couldn’t leave. A black leather shoe blocked my suitcase. My wrist was gripped tightly. He wouldn’t let go. We’d only been at a standstill for a few seconds when Lily couldn’t take it anymore. She stumbled and fell to the side. Her voice, which had been sweet and coquettish moments ago, turned into a shriek. “Enough! I can’t stand you two anymore!”

Frederick instinctively reached out to steady her, but she shoved him away. “Don’t touch me! I really can’t take this anymore! Every time she sees me, she threatens to break up, run away, get divorced. What am I, trash? Does she hate me that much?” “Frederick! Let’s end our friendship! I’m sick of living under her scrutiny!” “It’s all my fault. I shouldn’t have appeared in front of you two. I shouldn’t have known you since childhood or grown up with you!” As she spoke, she frantically started slapping herself. “I should just die! At least it’s better than being treated like this every time!” The warmth on my wrist disappeared. Frederick lunged forward and grabbed Lily’s flailing hands. He used both hands and feet to forcibly restrain her in his arms, stopping her movements. It all happened in just a few seconds. Lily’s eyes were bloodshot red. Both sides of her face had swollen up. Frederick held her face and looked at me with dark, heavy eyes. “Are you satisfied now?” It was always like this. The moment I showed even a hint of resistance, Lily’s depression would flare up and she’d start hurting herself. Couldn’t say anything. Couldn’t touch her. Couldn’t even avoid her. Before, Frederick would coax me into appeasing her. “Jasmine, you’ve had this condition yourself. You know that at times like this, you can only go along with it.” Out of basic human decency, I compromised every time, avoiding confrontation. But later, I realized something. Lily’s “condition” only flared up when Frederick didn’t side with her because of me. Her so-called depression was just possessiveness in overdrive, forcing him to choose between us. I looked down at the smug expression on Lily’s face. I nodded. “Yeah, pretty satisfied. You just moved too fast. Didn’t hit hard enough.” “Your acting’s a bit rough. Work on it next time.” Shock flashed through Lily’s eyes. She froze, about to lash out again. But Frederick beat her to it. He stood up with her in his arms and stepped toward me. His tall figure loomed over me, casting everything into darkness. The shoulders that once shielded me from the rain now carried another woman, physically blocking my way out. “Jasmine, I’ve been far too lenient with you.” Frederick’s voice was low and cold. “Lily, slap her back.”

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My sister signed up for a wilderness survival program, but I was too busy with my company’s IPO to accompany her. I had no choice but to ask her boyfriend, Marcus Henderson, to look after her. After the IPO bell ceremony, I drove through the night to reach the survival site, but I couldn’t find a single trace of my sister. I searched the entire mountain until I finally found her necklace in front of a household’s door. I rushed in like a madwoman and eventually found my sister at the edge of a pigsty, completely out of her mind. She was being groped by an old man who had her in his arms. He had promised me repeatedly before they left that he’d take good care of her! But now he’d actually handed over my sister—whom I valued more than my own life—to some old bachelor! Since you’ve been this vicious, then today none of you are leaving here alive! My sister had always loved outdoor activities since childhood. This vacation, she couldn’t wait to join a wilderness survival program. I initially disagreed, but her boyfriend promised he would take good care of her and absolutely wouldn’t let her get hurt, so I finally agreed. During our two months apart, my sister checked in with me on her phone every day. Everything seemed normal, except she didn’t like sending photos or videos. But I couldn’t stand missing her anymore, so right after handling the company’s IPO, I immediately came to the mountains where she was. But my sister wasn’t there, and the original campsite was empty. I was only greeted by a local villager: “Their location changes every day, and besides, there’s no signal in the mountains so it’s hard to contact them. Why don’t you head back for now?” I naturally refused: “Even if they’re training all over the place, they’ll eventually return to the camp, right? Besides, I’m not in a hurry. I’ll just wait here.” A flash of discomfort crossed the villager’s eyes: “They might not come back all night. There are lots of mosquitoes in the mountains. You’d be more comfortable going back.” My expression changed: “Who the hell are you to tell me what to do? Fuck off!” I immediately headed into the mountains to find her. The villager tried to stop me, but I kicked him aside. By evening, I finally found the main group’s members. The other team members had been sitting on rocks eating roasted pork. The moment they saw me, they all jumped up in terror: “You… how did you get here?” I looked around. My sister wasn’t there. I said coldly: “Where’s Claire?” Everyone exchanged glances and fell silent in unison. From the moment I entered the mountains until now, everyone’s behavior had been too strange. I rushed to where everyone had placed their backpacks and searched carefully. Nothing. None of my sister’s belongings were there. “Where’s my sister?” I grabbed the collar of the classmate who usually had the best relationship with her and demanded answers. Her conscience finally got the better of her: “She’s… over there…” She pointed toward the deepest edge of the mountain. I rushed over with my people. When we were completely exhausted, we finally saw a dilapidated village. In front of a filthy house, my sister’s necklace lay quietly in the mud. A terrifying thought rose in my mind. I grabbed a hammer nearby and frantically pounded on the door. When I burst into the courtyard, everything before my eyes nearly made me faint. My sister sat in the pigsty with vacant eyes. Behind her, an old man was groping her chest with a lecherous expression. “Claire… Claire!!!” I couldn’t control my screaming. But Claire acted as if she hadn’t heard me at all. She blankly reached out her hands, pushing at the old man in front of her. Her belly was slightly swollen—she seemed to be pregnant. “What the hell happened!” I slapped the team leader at the front across the face. His tooth flew out from my slap, and he gasped in pain: “Marcus told us to do this. He said your sister was too stuck-up and needed this kind of experience to understand how ordinary people live.” I grabbed his collar viciously and smashed his head against a nearby rock: “Experience my ass!”

My sister’s body was so soft, like a carelessly discarded rag doll. All over her body, only her belly was hard. A bastard child lay inside. “Claire, Claire, open your eyes and look. It’s me, your sister. I’m here.” My hands, which hadn’t even trembled when signing the IPO contract, now shook like I had Parkinson’s disease. But no matter how I called out. The person in my arms showed no response. If not for her still breathing, I truly would have gone mad. “Vivian Montgomery? What are you doing here?” Behind me was the man who had promised to take good care of my sister. “Marcus Henderson, is this how you treat your girlfriend?” If Claire’s safety in my arms wasn’t more important right now, I really wanted to skin him alive. “Why are you looking at me like that? She agreed to all of this herself. No one forced her.” “You don’t know yet, do you? Your precious little sister is quite the slut when she’s underneath a man. Are you the same way as her big sister?” He laughed until the wrinkles on his nose bunched together. His phone was suddenly held up high. On that small screen. My sister was screaming as she was pinned down by a group of men with various body types, all without exception disgusting and perverted. She screamed and begged for mercy. No one paid attention. Instead, it only made those men more excited. “Why! Why are you doing this to me! I love you so much!” This foolish girl, whom I had protected perfectly for twenty years, had never experienced such unspeakable horror, let alone heard of such tragedies. Marcus laughed again: “Silly girl, of course I love you too—I love the money you spend on me. You’re so beautiful and so slutty, who wouldn’t love you?” She wanted to say something else, but Marcus waved his hand sharply: “She still has the strength to talk. Looks like you guys aren’t working hard enough.” The men received the signal and pried my sister’s legs apart. The rest, I couldn’t see. I suddenly slapped Marcus hard across the face. Marcus’s cheek immediately swelled up, and a tooth flew from his mouth. “You fucking dare hit me?” He tried to strike back but was kicked to the ground by my bodyguard. My high heel pressed down hard on his chest. Crack. A rib in his chest broke with the sound. He screamed like a pig being slaughtered. “Vivian Montgomery! You dare touch me! Do you know who my girlfriend is now! Today… today you and that little bitch aren’t leaving!” “You’ll be just like her, left here for the villagers to use for free!! Ahh!!!” Another rib under my foot broke. He could no longer speak, his bloodshot eyes glaring at me. Sometimes, ignorance is perhaps a kind of blessing. A baseball bat had appeared in my hand. I raised it high. The moment it fell on his body, a woman’s scream rang out from behind: “Grab that bitch for me!!” A series of gusts swept past me. I stood in place without even turning my head. Behind me, the sound of fists hitting flesh was particularly harsh. The harder the impact, the closer the woman’s footsteps came. “So you’re that bastard’s sister? You do look alike—the same slutty appearance.” “I was planning to deal with you when I got back, but since you’ve delivered yourself to my door, don’t blame me.” I turned around to face a face I’d seen years ago. Her?

“I remember you. When our school took graduation photos, you stood behind and to the side of Claire.” My voice held no emotion, yet it provoked her to change expression. Especially when she saw that the double number of bodyguards she brought couldn’t even get close to me. She became even angrier: “You bitch have quite the memory. That’s right, I went to high school with that slut.” “You don’t know that your sister has been seducing people since childhood, do you? Acting all proper in front of others, but swaying her ass more than anyone behind their backs. She even dared to sway it in front of my boyfriend! If she didn’t want to be fucked, what else could it be?” She couldn’t stand having the attention that belonged to her stolen away. She was born to stand at the center of all eyes. And my sister’s beautiful and intelligent existence couldn’t be allowed. “Just because of that?” My tone finally held some fluctuation, but the coldness intensified. “What the hell do you know! That bitch opposed me at every turn. My boyfriend actually praised her for being pretty? The prettiest person can only be me!” “Originally, she should have been gang-raped in high school, but that bitch got lucky. Our family had a major contract at the time, and we couldn’t afford any scandals at that critical moment. Otherwise, do you think I would have let her bounce around until now?” Recalling the past, unconcealed jealous fire burned in this woman’s eyes. So there really are people in this world who would ruin someone else’s life for such absurd reasons. “Serena, your ex-boyfriend was just blind. How could there be anyone prettier than you in the world? Besides, you’re the eldest daughter of the Walsh family. That Claire is just the daughter of some small merchant—she’s not even worthy of carrying your shoes!” Marcus endured the severe pain in his body and flattered Serena Walsh. The woman was very pleased, her fingers gently caressing his chest: “Don’t worry. That bitch treated you this way—I’ll make her wish she was dead.” I raised an eyebrow. Make me wish I was dead? She was the first person bold enough to have such an idea. “Get them!” She roared. But none of the bodyguards around her moved. “Go! Are you all dead!” She panicked. The lead man shook his aching hand: “Miss… as soon as you arrived, we engaged with the people she brought. Although we outnumber them… we really can’t beat them…” Otherwise what? The people by my side were all top-tier bodyguards in the country. This bunch of useless trash she brought, let alone all being taken down. Even if their numbers doubled, it wouldn’t be a problem. “Useless! What’s the point of having you!” “Fortunately… fortunately I made backup plans.” The moment her words fell, a man slowly walked out from behind: “This is a harmonious society. Why all this talk of fighting and killing?” The clothes on his body revealed the man’s special status. I remembered him. He seemed to be the local top official. “Look how you’ve pushed her. How inappropriate.” He turned his head to scold Serena Walsh. Serena Walsh sneered: “Yes, yes, yes. Who here would dare not listen to Director Harrison?” So when the hard approach didn’t work, they brought out someone to pressure me. “But you have to be reasonable, right? Your sister is pregnant with his child.” “You came and forcibly separated sister and brother-in-law. That’s not what you as an older sister should do.” Director Harrison’s face was full of fat, and his breath sprayed out as he spoke. Disgusting. “That’s simple. After I leave, you can give him your wife.” I didn’t want to waste words with this bunch of trash. I picked up my sister and turned to leave. But I discovered that the doorway had somehow gathered a group of fierce-looking villagers. They all held farming tools like hoes and clubs. “Today, you’re not leaving.” Director Harrison smiled as he looked at my back. He had prepared everything long ago.

“She’s a person of our village while alive! She’ll be a ghost of our village when dead!” “You can’t take her away! Damn it, they said it would be my turn next month. I haven’t tasted this slut yet! I already paid the money!” The vulgar language continued around me. I covered my sister’s ears. It seemed this village truly had no reason to exist anymore. “Director! Look what that bitch did to me! I spent all my money buying a wife, I don’t have money for the hospital. How will you compensate me!” The old bachelor saw that backup had arrived and limped to the director to complain. But he was kicked hard: “Enough. Don’t I know what you’re thinking? You want to play with both sisters. Quite the appetite.” The old bachelor grinned, revealing a mouthful of yellow teeth. “Even if the people you brought can fight, they can’t match our numbers. I advise you to accept your fate. I see you have some looks. If you stay with me, I guarantee you’ll have a good life.” The director’s gaze wandered over my body, as if examining merchandise. “Just give up. Claire is ruined now anyway. Even if she gets out, no man will want her.” “Right, don’t you just want to stay with your sister? Just marry into our village, won’t that work?” The other members of the hiking group also spoke up to persuade. Sharing the crime. They were all complicit in what happened to my sister, and they knew very well they had committed wrongdoing. So no matter what, they couldn’t let me leave. “Don’t go. Stay. The director is a good man.” “Stay, stay…” These didn’t seem like the voices of young men and women, but rather death knells from hell. I indifferently swept my gaze across everyone present. What vibrant lives. Too bad they’re about to disappear from this world. “Haven’t you figured out this society yet? Justice and humanity are all fake. Only money and power are real.” Serena Walsh looked at me smugly. As if everything was settled, and I too would meet the fate of being ravaged by men. Outnumbered, I was at a clear disadvantage. The surrounding circle kept shrinking, trapping me and my bodyguards. The bodyguards’ eyes signaled to ask if I wanted to fight our way out. I slowly raised my finger. Just before it was about to fall. A familiar figure appeared. “Stop!” A woman in an elegant dress hurried over. The smile on Serena Walsh’s face abruptly stopped: “Mom, why are you here? Didn’t I tell you to wait in the car?” Mrs. Walsh glared at her, then quickly walked in front of me, staring at my face: “Have I seen you somewhere before?” At the bidding conference years ago, I had given a speech as the host. Although Mrs. Walsh wasn’t qualified enough to interact with me, she had seen me from afar. At this moment, she vaguely recalled that glimpse—I had been surrounded by everyone in the center. The famous Chairman of Montgomery Corporation… “You’re! The Chairman of Montgomery Corporation!” Mrs. Walsh’s pupils constricted as she collapsed to the ground. Everyone present was stunned.

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While working through the night on a project, my phone suddenly lit up with a notification from the smart home app. “Master bedroom bathroom light has been turned on.” “Master bathroom aromatherapy bath mode activated. Please enjoy.” Neither my wife Victoria nor I was home, and our house manager Mary was on vacation. So who had turned on those appliances? I checked the app again, then called Victoria. “Victoria, why didn’t you tell me you were coming home?” She looked confused on the video call. “Miss me already? Honey, this project is really important. I won’t be back until tomorrow night at the earliest.” I rubbed my temples. “Sorry, I’ve been so busy I lost track of time. See you tomorrow.” After hanging up, I watched the smart home app and noticed the master bedroom curtains had suddenly closed. I texted Mary, then drove home. I almost called Mary, thinking of those stories about house managers stealing from their employers. But I hung up before it connected. Mary had been with us for over a decade. She was family—she wouldn’t do something like that. At the community gate, I rolled down my window. “Did someone come see me today? A friend said they were stopping by.” The guard shook his head. “No outside visitors registered today. Maybe they changed their mind?” I nodded. “Probably. Thanks.” Just then, Mary video-called me. She was at home with her kids. “Mary, take a few more days off. Spend time with your family. I’ll make sure you’re compensated.” I ended the call and my smile vanished. Mary wasn’t here. So had someone broken in? But why would a thief use the bathtub? When I reached the villa, the master bedroom lights were on. My chest tightened. Someone was inside. Who? I opened the front door quietly. Before I could turn on the lights, moonlight showed me Victoria’s slippers had been moved. I distinctly remembered lining up our shoes before I left. Was someone secretly living here, like in those news stories? Afraid the intruder might panic, I grabbed the baseball bat from behind the door. But just as I started up the stairs, Victoria appeared at the second-floor landing in her bathrobe and turned on the first-floor lights. “Dylan, what are you doing back?” She towel-dried her hair and clicked her tongue at the bat in my hand. “And with that?” I exhaled. “Just got off work. Saw your shoes had been moved and thought we had a burglar.” “Victoria, you didn’t tell me you were coming home. You scared me.” Then something hit me. “Wait—didn’t you say you wouldn’t be back until tomorrow night?” Victoria ran down and pulled me into a hug. “That was the plan. But when you called, I knew you must have missed me, so I rushed back.” “I wanted to surprise you.” Her expression when she saw me was perfect—delighted, loving. Her words were sweet. But the fresh scent on her didn’t match. The bathroom light had been on for a while. She said she’d just gotten back. She was lying. Aromatherapy bath mode leaves a fragrance, but she only smelled of her usual body wash. Victoria was lying to me. And someone else had been using my bathtub. She was cheating. I checked my phone for the bath end time. It had stopped right before I arrived. My house only had one entrance. Whoever used my bathtub was still here. I smiled and moved past her toward the stairs. “Thanks, Victoria. I’m tired. I’m going to wash up.” She opened the master bedroom door for me, looking pleased with herself. “I heard the sound downstairs and knew it was you. Look, I even drew the bath for you.” I walked into the bathroom and glanced at the screen—bath mode activated. She always used aromatherapy mode. But she never wore this particular scent. Then I heard something drop. I walked back into the bedroom and stared at the wardrobe. Victoria glanced at the collectible model on the nightstand and exhaled quietly. But I wasn’t looking at that. I was staring at the wardrobe. That row of custom cabinets was big enough to hide someone. The moment my hand touched the door— “Wait,” Victoria said.

“Dylan, I brought you a gift. It’s over there.” She pointed at the model on the table. My eyes lit up. “Is this the limited edition I’ve been waiting years for?” Distracted, I turned it over in my hands. Then, while Victoria wasn’t looking, I yanked the wardrobe open. I searched left to right, top to bottom. No one. Victoria straightened the clothes inside, her voice perfectly even. “Which pajamas do you want, Dylan?” There was nowhere else to hide. Maybe I was overthinking it. Maybe no one was here. I pointed to my usual set and let my guard down. Must be a system glitch. Some program starting on its own. For security, I had facial recognition cameras at the front door and a hidden camera inside pointing at the entrance. Anyone other than Victoria or me would trigger an alert on my phone. The next day, right after lunch at the office, the smart home app pinged again. “Master bedroom bathroom light has been turned on.” “Master bathroom aromatherapy bath mode activated. Please enjoy.” I pulled up the surveillance footage. Ten times speed, from the moment I left. No one entered the house. Must be a bug in the new smart home system. I told my assistant to schedule an upgrade and dismissed the notification. That evening, I had dinner with Jason, an old friend I hadn’t seen in a while. We talked about childhood dreams. I smiled and pulled up a photo on my phone. “Look what my wife brought me from her business trip.” Jason studied it. “This is a limited edition—hard to find now. Too bad about the lipstick mark on it. Kind of ruins the collectible.” I froze. Why would Victoria put lipstick on a model? It didn’t even come in a gift box. Or had she bought me a counterfeit? I video-called Victoria. When I told her, she apologized quickly. “Sorry, Dylan. I noticed my lip color looked pale and touched it up at my vanity. I don’t know anything about collectibles. I’ll get you another one.” This model was years old, nearly impossible to find. I was already grateful she’d managed to get one at all. I smiled and dropped it. Then my phone pinged again. The bathtub was in aromatherapy mode. It ended over an hour later. Victoria never washed that fast. The system really was broken. A week later, I was about to board a train for a business trip to the neighboring city when the security guard called. “Mr. Sullivan, your friend just registered your unit number and went in.” I’d mentioned that once. I didn’t expect the guard to remember, or to actually pass it along. I left the boarding gate and opened the surveillance app. Three minutes later, Victoria appeared at the front door. No one was with her. But she knocked first, waited a few seconds, then went in. I scrolled back on the camera feed opposite the door. When I reached the timestamp of her entry— A shirtless man stood inside the doorway, arms open to welcome her.

I ran out of the station, hailed a taxi, and offered the driver double to get me home as fast as possible. He pushed the speed limit. My chest ached. If I caught them in the act, what then? Would it end in divorce? We’d been together ten years—campus romance, graduation, marriage. She said she wanted to focus on career before family, put off having kids. I agreed. Our relationship had always been harmonious. She even shielded me from both our parents’ pressure about grandchildren, said she wanted me to enjoy my youth. But now I wondered—did she not want children, or had she already had them with someone else? Three kilometers from home, we hit traffic. I stared at the sea of cars ahead. Then my phone pinged. “Master bathroom aromatherapy bath mode activated. Please enjoy.” I threw cash at the driver, got out, and unlocked a shared bike by the roadside. I pedaled like my life depended on it. At the community gate, I parked and stood there, staring at the door. My mind was chaos. I opened the door and went upstairs. I slowed my steps. My lip was raw between my teeth. What if they were in my bed right now? What if she denied it? What if she didn’t? Should we divorce? How would we tell our parents? My hand rested on the doorknob. Two seconds of hesitation. I opened the camera recording and pushed the door open. “Victoria, what are you doing?” She looked up from her phone, sitting up in bed. “I was just about to call you. Dylan, aren’t you supposed to be in the neighboring city?” I stared at the lumpy blanket on the bed. “Project got canceled. I’m tired.” Victoria laughed softly and pulled back the covers. “Then come lie down, husband. I haven’t seen you all day. I missed you.” The bed was empty. He must have hidden. I hugged Victoria and breathed her in. Her scent was faint. Then I went straight to the master bathroom. The fragrance hit me immediately—someone had just bathed here. I crouched to check under the bed. Then the wardrobe. I searched every corner around the bed. No one. I looked at Victoria. “Where’s the man?” She stood and wrapped her arms around me, nuzzling my neck. “What man? There’s only you and Mary, and Mary’s on vacation.” I pulled away and searched the house room by room. Nothing. I came back to the living room, drained. Victoria frowned and pulled me onto the sofa. “You suspect me.” Her voice softened as she sat on my lap. “I’m sorry I haven’t given you enough security. Why don’t we stay at my parents’ house for a few days? Relax.” Her face was full of concern. I forced myself to relax and rubbed my forehead. “I’m too sensitive. Maybe I’m just stressed.” Victoria shook her head and lifted my chin to meet her eyes. “No, Dylan. You’re the most handsome man in the world. Don’t be anxious. Let’s wash up and sleep. Tonight I’ll hold you and give you all the security you need.” I smiled and nodded. “Okay.” Then I checked the nightstand drawer. Some condoms were missing. I grabbed a bathrobe and went into the bathroom to check the surveillance. No one had exited through the first-floor door. Or the side windows. But when I scrolled back to days before the first notification— I found footage of Victoria leaving through the main door with that man. Together. That meant—besides the main entrance—he had another way into my house.

I washed up, heavy-hearted, and put on the bathrobe. In the mirror, I saw lipstick on the collar. Bright. Fresh. I practiced my expression before going out, forcing myself not to throw the robe away. He came to my house, slept with my woman, and wore my clothes. He knew how to use my things. This affair hadn’t started yesterday. I’d been too stupid to see it until the smart home app started exposing everything. When I came out, Victoria handed me warm milk. “This will help you sleep. You worked hard today.” I forced a tired smile and hugged her. “Sorry, Victoria. I’m so exhausted I got paranoid and accused you. I’m not feeling well—I’ll probably wake up several times tonight. I’ll sleep in the guest room.” She helped me lie down, then went to the guest room without asking questions. I lay there with the bedside lamp on, staring at the ceiling. I didn’t sleep all night. In the morning, I looked at the bright bathroom lights and thought of a solution. I went out and searched everywhere, finally buying a harmless fluorescent agent. I poured it into the body wash and aromatherapy oil. Next time he bathed, he’d get it on his skin. It couldn’t be washed off without a special solution. Then I’d see where he could hide. To avoid suspicion, I waited until my usual 8 PM to go home. When the system pinged that bath mode was activated, I immediately called Victoria and said I wanted her home-cooked food. She glanced at the bathroom, her smile strained. “How about after work? If I make it now and bring it over, it’ll be cold by the time it gets to you.” I sighed and was about to stall further when a man’s scream came through the line. “Ah—it hurts! Victoria, help me!” I paused, pretending not to understand. “Was that a man? You watching TV?” She nodded quickly, her eyes darting. “The company is having an online meeting. I have to go.” I watched her hang up and smiled. This time I’d bring both sets of parents and catch her in the act. Let’s see her talk her way out of this. I led everyone into the bedroom. The bathroom light was on. Music played from a phone. Victoria’s parents held me back. “Dylan—don’t open the door. Call her out first. Give us some face. When she comes out, hit her, punish her—we won’t stop you.” I hesitated. But seeing their earnest faces, I nodded. We called her name. No response. Finally, her father steeled himself and pulled open the bathroom door. Everyone gasped. The light was on. But there was no one inside. Just a phone playing music.

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The day I died was my mom’s birthday. She had, for once, saved me a really big piece of cake. I floated in front of that cake, ghostly and hungry, taking a longing sniff. But the next second, the cake was handed to my sister instead. “Lily, go ahead and eat. Your sister, that ungrateful brat, clearly doesn’t deserve any!” Then she turned to Dad, who was recording on his phone. “Did you get all that? When that little brat comes back, make sure she watches this. Let’s see if she dares to say we’re playing favorites again!” “Of all the things she could’ve done, she had to run away from home!” “We spoiled her rotten! If she’s got the guts, she should never come back!” Mom slammed her hand on the table while cursing me out, that cold sneer on her face. She didn’t notice the panic written all over my sister’s face as she held the cake. She didn’t notice her tangled hair either. And she definitely didn’t notice the dark stains of blood on her sleeve. That blood was mine. When Mom was yelling at me in the community playground, a bunch of elderly neighbors had gathered to watch the drama. One old lady pointed at my mom and started lecturing the toddler in her arms. “Sweetie, you need to be a good girl. Don’t be like that lady’s kid, hiding somewhere and refusing to come home.” The little kid in her arms was sucking on her fingers, her voice muffled. “Hungry tummy.” Her grandma replied, “Exactly, that’s why this lady is trying to call her daughter home—” “Bullshit!” “Me, calling her home? That little brat—I hope she drops dead out there!” Mom whipped around and snapped at the old lady. The old lady covered her grandchild’s ears and said awkwardly, “Watch your language, will you? There are children here.” “With a mom like you, no wonder your daughter doesn’t want to come home!” I crouched on the rusty swing, which swayed gently in the wind, creaking softly. Mom’s face turned bright red. “Mind your own damn business, you old hag!” The old lady took half a step back after being yelled at. But looking at the innocent toddler in her arms and the crowd of onlookers, she couldn’t help but argue back. “Wh-what are you getting so defensive about!” “Last time I saw you all at the grocery store, you were carrying your younger daughter while the older one trailed behind, dragging shopping bags that were almost as tall as her!” “Tell me, folks—they’re both your kids! What kind of mother does that!” The moment she said that, whispers erupted through the crowd. “Oh wow, now that you mention it, I think I’ve seen that too.” “That girl was so skinny and pale, head down, barely able to walk straight.” I crouched on the swing with my head down, picking at my fingernails. From struggling before I died, my nails had peeled back one by one. Now that I was a ghost, the wounds were still the same—raw flesh tinged with a dark purple. At least they didn’t hurt anymore. Mom was all about appearances. Hearing those words, her face turned even redder, and her voice got shriller. “So what if I made her carry a few things? Would it kill her to help out around the house?” “That bag was full of snacks she wanted to eat anyway! She was carrying her own stuff—what’s the problem?!” That wasn’t true. I held my breath and kicked the swing hard. That day, the shopping bags had been so heavy they turned my fingers purple. They were stuffed with my sister’s favorite snacks, the soda Mom loved, and the cigarettes Dad smoked. I stumbled along behind Mom, sweat dripping into my eyes, making them dry and sting. My sister was being carried in Mom’s arms, holding an ice cream cone, her face smeared with it. She turned her head, a big smile on her face. “Want some, Emma?” I licked my lips, desperate for a taste. Mom immediately turned my sister’s face back around. “Ignore her. She deserves it. That’s what she gets for failing her test and talking back.” When we got home, they sat on the couch watching cartoons. I was locked out on the balcony to “reflect” and redo my test papers. My stomach cramped with hunger. In the living room, Mom fed my sister, smiling so gently. That smile—I had never once been on the receiving end of it. A thought began to grow inside me like a vine, wild and consuming. I stopped picking at my bloody fingernails and looked up at Mom. She was arguing back and forth with the neighbors, her pretty eyes blazing like a fire that would never go out. If Mom found out I was dead, would she regret it? Would she cry for me? Would she—just once—hold me the way she held my sister? I jumped off the swing and floated over to her side, reaching out to touch her. But my fingertip passed right through her arm, just as I expected. I pouted, then carefully slid my finger into Mom’s loosely curled palm. It almost looked like we were holding hands. I couldn’t help but smile a little. The next second, Mom flung her hand away. Of course, she couldn’t actually shake off my ghostly finger—it was just a gesture she made while arguing. “She’s my daughter! I’ll discipline her however I want!” “If she wants to die out there, then let her! At least I’ll finally have some peace and quiet!” My finger stayed suspended in midair, still curled in that pretend hand-holding pose. I stared at my transparent finger for a long time, then slowly pulled it back.

Mom stormed back home, furious. Dad was still playing video games. When he saw her come in, he didn’t even turn around. “Emma wasn’t at the playground?” “She’s dead to me!” “That little brat—when she gets back, I’m gonna beat her senseless!” Dad’s fingers on the keyboard didn’t even pause. “Don’t say stuff like that.” “Besides, this is partly your fault. If you hadn’t taken the dress you promised Emma and exchanged it for Lily’s size, she wouldn’t have run off in the first place.” That was all it took to set Mom off. She grabbed a pillow from the couch and hurled it at Dad. “How is this my fault!” “Lily needed that dress for her recital! Emma has plenty of dresses—would it kill her to give up one?” “Well, Emma wasn’t wrong when she said you play favorites!” “Me? Play favorites? Lily’s younger—what’s wrong with asking her sister to be a little understanding? Isn’t Emma supposed to act like a big sister? I spend tens of thousands on tutoring for Emma every year—doesn’t that count for anything?” “Act like a big sister? Is that why you’ve yelled at her so much she’s too scared to come home?” “She’s got a guilty conscience! She’s probably hiding somewhere having fun, just to make me mad!” Mom and Dad went back and forth, their argument growing louder and louder. Neither of them noticed the small figure crouched in the corner of the living room, hands pressed over her ears, face full of fear. She was still wearing that dress—the one I’d never even gotten to wear before it was exchanged at the store for a smaller size. I floated over and curled up across from her, hugging my knees, staring at the dress she was wearing. Blue, covered in rhinestones, so pretty and sparkly. Like the dress Cinderella wore in the cartoons. Dad had promised me—if I passed my test, he’d buy it for me. I studied so hard for so long, and finally, I passed. But the day the dress arrived, my sister cried and begged to wear a princess dress for her kindergarten talent show. Without a second thought, Mom took the dress and the receipt back to the store and exchanged it for the smallest size. “Emma, you’re the big sister. Let your little sister have this one.” “Next time—next time, Mommy will buy you an even better one.” There was no next time. I looked down at my own dress—washed so many times it had faded to a grayish white. In the bottom right corner, there were a few drops of ink my desk mate had flicked onto it during calligraphy class. No matter how many times I washed it, it never came out. Lily’s expression grew more and more dazed. Every time she heard my name, her body would flinch. Finally, she couldn’t take it anymore and burst into hysterical sobs. “Emma! Emma!” “Emma run!” The heated argument between Mom and Dad stopped abruptly. Mom hurried over and pulled Lily into her arms, gently patting her back. “Baby, I’m sorry. Mommy was wrong. Did we scare you?” “It’s all your sister’s fault for running off. When she comes back, we’ll yell at her together!” Dad walked over too. He sighed, his voice weary. “Okay, okay, stop crying. Daddy will buy you a doll tomorrow, how about that?” But Lily kept sobbing hysterically, calling out “Emma” over and over again. That night, Lily developed a high fever. Mom held Lily’s hand, her face exhausted, stroking it over and over. In the silence, she seemed to be talking to herself, her voice hoarse and bitter. “Your sister has been nothing but trouble since the day she was born. Now she won’t even come home, and she’s still finding ways to torment us…” “If she hadn’t been so stubborn and run off, you wouldn’t have gotten so scared. You wouldn’t have gotten sick…” “If she had any conscience at all, she’d come back and apologize on her own…” I stood on the other side of the hospital bed, watching Mom’s tired, tender profile. When she looked at Lily, her eyes were filled with such genuine worry and love. I had dreamed of that kind of tenderness countless times—if only I could have it just once. Now I was seeing it with my own eyes, but in this way. A sharp ache spread through my chest. So even ghosts could feel pain. I slowly reached out, wanting to touch Mom’s messy hair, wanting to tell her: Stop blaming me. Emma’s never coming back. My fingertip passed through her again, leaving nothing behind. Just like my death. Apart from making my sister sick and giving Mom another reason to complain about me— I left nothing behind.

The next day, Mom and Dad carried a listless, hollow-eyed Lily out of the hospital. As Dad folded the princess dress, his fingers paused on a stiff, dark-red patch of fabric on the sleeve. After a moment, he called out to Mom, who was coaxing Lily to drink some water. “Come look at this. Is this… is this blood?” Mom walked over. One glance, and her face went white. She grabbed Lily’s arm and frantically checked her over. “Lily, tell Mommy—where are you hurt? Let me see!” Dad tensed up too, checking Lily’s other arm, even lifting her hair to examine her scalp. Lily just stared with empty eyes, letting them move her around however they wanted. No crying, no fussing, no words at all. They didn’t find a single wound. That blood wasn’t Lily’s. I floated over and looked too. That bloodstain was probably from when the bad man grabbed me and Lily. He had grabbed my hair and yanked it back hard. In the searing pain, I lost my balance and my forehead slammed into a jagged rock jutting from the wall. Warm liquid instantly blurred my left eye, carrying the taste of rust. A few scalding drops of blood splashed from my forehead and landed on Lily’s blue sleeve—the sleeve she was using to grip my shirt so tightly. “Emma!” Lily’s piercing scream was the last clear sound I remembered. After that, everything became chaotic and dark. I only remembered using the last of my strength to shove Lily toward the crowded plaza. Then more fists and more pain rained down on me. By the time I was aware of anything again, I was already floating, weightless, crouching in front of the cake Mom had saved for me. “It’s not Lily’s blood…” Dad’s eyes were blank, his voice trembling as he asked Mom, “Then whose is it?” Mom didn’t answer. She suddenly turned to look at Lily, who kept murmuring “Emma” over and over. The hand holding the water bottle wouldn’t stop shaking. Unlike the car ride to the hospital, filled with Mom’s constant cursing— The drive home was dead silent. I followed them into the apartment complex. Just as they reached the entrance to their building, they ran into the college-aged guy who lived across the hall. He was on his bike, about to head out. “Hey Mr. and Mrs. Carter, is Lily feeling better?” He stopped his bike, a simple, friendly smile on his face. “Oh, and Mrs. Carter—happy belated birthday.” “Yesterday’s cake had extra mango in it, you know. Emma asked us to add it. She said it’s your favorite.” The moment he finished speaking— I saw Mom’s fingers twitch violently. Her nails dug into her own palm. The guy kept talking, his tone light and teasing. “Last month, Emma helped out at my parents’ bakery for a whole afternoon. She earned a little money and was so happy—said she wanted to buy you a birthday present.” “She even asked my mom which hand cream was best. Said your hands crack in the winter.” He concluded with a smile. “Emma’s such a good kid. Sweet, thoughtful, and hardworking too.” Mom and Dad stood frozen in place. I was a little stunned too. I thought about that tube of hand cream. I had hidden it in the innermost zippered pocket of my backpack, guarding it like a big, sweet secret. Every night after finishing my homework, I would secretly take it out and hold it. I imagined how Mom might look when she got it—would she smile, even for just a second? Would she reach out with those hands and gently ruffle my hair? Even just once. But now, that hand cream was probably still lying quietly in that backpack. Tucked away with my body, which had long since gone cold, hidden in some filthy corner. Mom opened her mouth, probably about to argue like she always did. But this time, all the sharp words got stuck in her throat. For the first time, when it came to something about me—she was silent. Back home, the silence stretched on. Without a word, Mom grabbed the mop and started scrubbing the floor, pressing down so hard it was like she wanted to stab right through it. Dad didn’t turn on his computer. He sat on the couch, then suddenly looked up and asked Mom: “Emma’s been gone all night.” “She’s only nine. Where could she even hide?” Mom slammed the mop onto the floor and hissed through clenched teeth. “How should I know?” “You’re on that stupid game all day! You don’t even care that your daughter ran away!” “I don’t care?” Dad shot to his feet, his voice rising. “Every time I tried to discipline her, who said I did a good job?” “Who’s the one who took the dress I bought for her and gave it to Lily, saying the big sister should give in to the little sister?” “And what about you? Have you ever gone to a single parent-teacher conference for her? Have you ever washed her clothes even once?” Their argument raged on, each of them scrambling to prove they weren’t to blame. Adults are ridiculous. Even worse than kids when it comes to dodging responsibility. I sat on the ceiling light, swinging my little legs. At least I don’t have to grow up. “Last year when she was in the hospital with a fever, you sat outside her room playing games for three days straight!” “And you? You took Lily to the indoor playground and left her all alone in the hospital!” Every word was a knife—cutting the other person, and cutting themselves too. Like that was the only way they could feel better. Mom suddenly stopped, breathing hard, and looked around the apartment. On the living room wall hung Lily’s first birthday photo. On the coffee table sat Lily’s toys. Even the fridge magnets were covered with Lily’s drawings. This home—where was there any trace of me? Dad followed her gaze, his face slowly draining of color. He opened his mouth, but in the end just slumped back onto the couch and said in a voice almost too quiet to hear: “Did we… did we really treat Emma badly?” Yes. For a long time now. Outside, the distant wail of sirens began to echo, getting closer and closer. Mom and Dad instinctively walked to the window and looked down. Mom’s hand gripped Dad’s arm tightly, her lips trembling. “Something didn’t happen, did it?”

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I had been married to Ethan Cole for one month when he was diagnosed with ALS. The doctor said his muscles would gradually atrophy until respiratory failure. I told him to quit his job, and I worked four jobs a day myself, so exhausted that my feet swelled too much to fit into shoes. But as long as I could afford his daily physical therapy, I felt it was all worth it. Until that night, when a drunk man grabbed me and dragged me into an alley, his vulgar words mixed with the stench of alcohol. I struggled and screamed toward Ethan at the alley entrance: “Call 911! Call 911 now!” He just stood there, frozen, not moving at all. Afterward, I threw myself at him, tears streaming down my face: “Why wouldn’t you lift your hand to call for help? You just watched me get attacked?” He said sorry in a low voice, and my heart sank bit by bit. Later, I accompanied him to a follow-up appointment. On the way, a woman in a white dress slipped. Ethan suddenly pushed me aside and rushed over to catch her steadily. He called out a name I had seen in 999 love letters. “Lily, are you okay?” So it turned out, I was his ALS.

The wind blew in from the alley entrance, carrying a rotten smell. My clothes were torn to shreds, my hair plastered messily against my bleeding forehead. The drunk was scared off by a few young people passing by. And my husband, Ethan Cole, had stood there the entire time. He didn’t move, didn’t shout, didn’t even make any attempt to call for help. He just stood there. I steadied myself against the cold wall and shuffled toward him step by step. “Ethan.” When I spoke, I realized my voice was completely hoarse. “Why didn’t you call 911?” He hung his head, his fingers twitching slightly—one of the few voluntary movements since his illness. “You couldn’t even yell? Just one shout for help would have been enough!” My questioning turned into hysterical screaming, piercing the empty night. “You just watched him drag me in there! You just watched! Did you want me to die?” Tears finally broke through the dam, mixing with blood as they flowed down. He finally raised his head and struggled to open his mouth, squeezing a few words from his throat. “I’m… sor…ry…” Those words, he said clearly enough. All the strength drained from my body instantly, and I collapsed at his feet. Sorry? For his twenty-thousand-dollar physical therapy sessions, I scrubbed dishes in restaurant kitchens until midnight, knelt to mop floors in office buildings, hauled bricks at construction sites, and worked as an overnight caregiver. I slept only three hours a day. My feet were so swollen that even the largest slippers wouldn’t fit. I just wanted to take him outside for some fresh air, so he wouldn’t be cooped up at home all the time. And what did I get? I got an “I’m sorry.” The hole in my heart grew bigger and bigger, and cold wind howled through it. I didn’t want to look at him anymore. I struggled to my feet and limped home. He followed behind, his steps slow and heavy—the last bit of dignity I had carefully maintained for him. Back home, I locked myself in the bathroom. Hot water washed over my body but couldn’t wash away the deep, bone-chilling disgust and coldness. The person in the mirror was haggard and disheveled, with none of the glow from our wedding day. I opened the medicine cabinet and tended to my wounds, every motion mechanical and numb. Ethan knocked on the door, gently and patiently. “Emma… open the door…” I ignored him. After a while, the knocking stopped. When I finished treating my wounds and came out, the living room was quiet. Ethan sat in his wheelchair, his back to me, his shoulders trembling slightly. Was he crying? I walked over, but saw the glowing phone screen in his hand. On the screen was a chat with someone saved as “Lily.” The last message was one he had just sent. “I miss you so much.” His fingers tapped rapidly on the screen—with a dexterity I had never seen before. “She’s so annoying. I can barely keep up this act anymore.”

The phone’s light reflected on his face. That wasn’t guilt or sadness—it was pure impatience and disgust. In that moment, my blood completely froze. He sensed my presence and whipped around, frantically trying to hide his phone. But it was too late. Our eyes met, and the mask of fragility on his face instantly crumbled. “Emma, let me explain…” Ethan’s defense stuck in his throat, because he saw the phone glowing in my hand too. On my screen was a bank collection notice I had just received. “Dear Ms. Emma Scott, the hospitalization and physical therapy fees you arranged for Mr. Ethan Cole are overdue. Please pay the outstanding balance of $200,000 within three days, or we will discontinue treatment.” Two hundred thousand dollars. What a laughable number. I closed my eyes, and memories of our wedding flashed through my mind. Back then, Ethan was handsome and tall, standing before me, making his vows. “Emma, I’ll make you the happiest woman in the world.” He said his startup had failed, that he was drowning in debt, and asked if I still wanted to marry him. I smiled and hugged him: “I’m marrying you, not your money.” One month after the wedding, he got “sick.” ALS—a diagnosis that sounds hopeless just hearing it. I quit my job, sold our small but cozy home, rented a run-down old apartment, and started working like crazy. I believed that as long as we didn’t give up, there was always hope. But now, reality had slapped me hard across the face. “Explain what?” I asked him calmly. Even I was surprised at how composed I was. “Explain that you can actually move? Or explain that you’ve been lying to me all along?” Ethan stood up from the wheelchair. Yes, he stood up. Stood up straight. Gone was that sickly appearance that required my support just to barely stand. “I didn’t mean to, Emma.” He walked toward me, trying to take my hand. “It started as a joke…” “A joke?” I stepped back, avoiding his touch. “Working myself to the bone every day was a joke? You standing by while I was attacked was a joke? Ethan, your jokes sure come at a high price!” A flash of guilt crossed his face, but it vanished instantly. “It was Lily! She made a bet with me!” He desperately shifted the blame. “She said if I married you, I had to prove that she was the only one in my heart! She said unless she came back, I couldn’t have any ‘normal’ contact with the outside world! This was all for her!” “For her?” I repeated those words, finding the whole thing utterly absurd. “So I deserved to be played like a fool? I deserved to be your slave?” “I didn’t think that way! Seeing you work so hard, I felt bad too!” He shouted back as if he were the one who had been wronged. “I wanted to tell you the truth so many times! But Lily said this was the final test of our love! She said she’d be back soon!” “So those two hundred thousand dollars in ‘therapy fees’ were part of the test too?” I held up my phone, shoving the collection notice in his face. “I thought your startup failed and you were broke? How did you pay for this?” His face went white instantly. “I… I…” He stammered, unable to explain. I didn’t need his answer anymore. I rushed into the bedroom and pulled open a hidden compartment under his bed. Inside was a laptop. I opened it, and a stock trading app appeared on the screen. The numbers in the account had so many zeros I couldn’t count them. And in the transaction history, the most recent large withdrawal was from yesterday. The description read: Lily’s Gallery.

I carried the laptop out and slammed it down on the coffee table in front of Ethan. “Was this part of the test too? Throwing money at your first love while watching your wife go gray with worry over twenty thousand dollars in ‘medical bills’?” “You lay there every day watching me run myself ragged for you, watching me break down from collection calls—did that give you a sense of accomplishment?” “Ethan Cole, do you even have a heart?” I couldn’t control myself anymore. I grabbed the water glass from the table and hurled it at him. He dodged it easily. That agile movement stabbed my eyes once again. “Emma! Are you done with your tantrum?” He finally exploded, grabbing my wrist. “Money, money, money! That’s all you care about! Fine, I admit I lied to you, but haven’t I been good to you? I let you live in my house, gave you food and shelter—what more do you want?” “Food and shelter?” I laughed in disbelief. “I live in what you called ‘the only place left after selling everything to pay off debts’—a tiny dump! I wear secondhand clothes from thrift stores! I eat leftovers from restaurant kitchens! This is the food and shelter you gave me?” “Then what do you want? Lily is different! She’s never suffered a day in her life! I owe her! I have to make it up to her!” He shouted righteously. “You owe her, so I have to pay?” My heart turned completely cold. “Ethan, let’s get a divorce.” “Divorce?” He froze, then sneered. “Emma, don’t push your luck. Who do you think you are? Without me, can you even survive? A woman with no education and no connections—where are you going to find someone as good as me?” “Oh? Really?” I shook off his hand, walked to the door, and pulled it open. Outside stood a man in a tailored suit—my new boss, the CEO of a publicly traded company. Earlier that day, in that office building, I had knelt to polish his shoes. When he saw me, he nodded slightly, then turned his gaze to Ethan inside. “Mr. Cole, I’ve heard so much about you. I’m Ms. Emma Scott’s attorney, and also her new employer.” The man handed over a business card, then turned to me and gave me a document. “Ms. Scott, the equity transfer agreement left by your father has taken effect. As of today, you are officially the largest shareholder of Global Group. Here is the asset report on Mr. Ethan Cole that you asked me to investigate.” I took the documents without even glancing at them and threw them in Ethan’s face. Papers scattered across the floor, each one recording his lies and betrayal. Ethan’s expression shifted from shock to disbelief to utter incomprehension. “Ms. Scott?… Global Group?” he muttered as if hearing a fairy tale. I looked at him and spoke, word by word. “I forgot to tell you—my father is the chairman of Global Group. He said if the man I married truly loved me, all this would be my dowry. If not, consider it a lesson learned.” “Ethan Cole, congratulations. You’ve taught me the most expensive lesson of my life.” Ethan’s face lost all its color instantly. He staggered back a step and crashed into the wall with a dull thud.

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My husband who never liked pets suddenly adopted a stray cat. He said he could hear the cat’s thoughts, and that it had come to repay a debt of gratitude by helping him become a billionaire. He named the cat Bella. “Bella says that before I become a billionaire, I need to sleep with her every night so I can absorb her fortune energy.” He pushed me out of the master bedroom and locked the door. The next day, I developed a 104°F fever from the drafty storage room and begged him to take me to the hospital. But he locked me inside the storage room instead: “Bella says you just need to drink some hot water and you’ll be fine. This is a critical period—we can’t go out, or it’ll break my fortune flow.” “Once I become a billionaire, you’ll have more money than you could ever spend!” But the storage room caught fire by accident. I was burned to death, my body charred beyond recognition. After I died, I suspected my husband was having an affair and had just used the cat as an excuse— deliberately killing me so he could be with his lover. But as my soul floated in the air, I watched my husband clutching my burned corpse, sobbing uncontrollably: “I just wanted to give you a better life. How did I end up killing you instead? Without you, what’s the point of having all this money?” Then he opened the window, held the cat tight, and jumped. When I woke up again, I had returned to the day my husband adopted the cat. I stared at that cat, determined to find out why he obeyed it so completely.

“Honey, if we just adopt this cat, we’ll get rich!” “I can hear this cat’s thoughts. She says she’s here to repay a debt of gratitude and will help me become a billionaire.” Lucas walked through the door carrying a filthy black stray cat, his eyes glinting with something manic. In my previous life, Lucas had been so allergic to cat fur that he broke out in hives. I’d taken care of him for an entire month, and after that, he’d been terrified of animals. But with this black cat, he acted like he was under a spell, throwing all caution to the wind. Later, to be alone with the cat, he’d banished me to the storage room—where I’d died of a high fever. I looked at that cat, my grip tightening around the mop handle. I knew I had been reborn. “Emma, why aren’t you saying anything?” Lucas frowned when I didn’t respond: “Whether you agree or not, I’ve decided to keep her!” I snapped back to reality, pushed down my thoughts, and forced a gentle smile: “Of course not. If she’s here to repay a debt, then she’s an honored guest in our home. She can stay!” Lucas seemed momentarily stunned. The black cat in his arms was staring at me intently with those eerie green eyes. Maybe I was imagining it, but I could swear I saw something in those eyes—a cruel, human kind of mockery. Lucas relaxed and stroked the cat’s head gently: “From now on, she’s our precious baby. Let’s call her Bella!” Lucas carried the cat into the bathroom to give her a bath himself. This man who made me wash his dirty socks was now crouching by the bathtub, testing the water temperature over and over, washing the cat with tender care. In my previous life, I’d suspected Lucas was having an affair and that the cat was just his excuse to kill me. But after I died, my soul watched Lucas jump off the building with the cat in his arms. If he just wanted to run off with a mistress, I was already dead—why would he kill himself too? There had to be a secret I didn’t know. While Lucas was out buying cat food, I posted a reward notice in our building’s residents’ group chat, hoping to find the cat’s owner and get some clues. Unfortunately, my message went nowhere. Either no one had seen the cat, or they assumed it was spam. Only one message caught my attention. Someone told me to get rid of the cat immediately—or else there’d be minor troubles at best, and a deadly disaster at worst. I was about to reply when Lucas came home with armfuls of shopping bags. He saw what was on my phone, and his expression darkened. “You can’t even stand me having a cat? How much does keeping a cat even cost? One bottle of your skincare products could feed her for months!” “Emma, I never thought you’d say one thing and do another!” I quickly explained: “This cat appeared so suddenly. I just wanted to make sure she didn’t belong to someone else. If we get attached and then the owner shows up wanting her back, that would be awkward.”

Hearing my explanation, Lucas’s expression softened, though he still muttered: “Bella only has one owner—me!” Then he started unpacking all sorts of fancy gift boxes filled with high-end custom pet clothes for Bella. He held up a little pink dress against her body, his eyes full of adoration: “Bella would look so cute in this!” I glanced at the price tag. The little dress cost $9,999. Just yesterday, he’d yelled at me for an hour about being wasteful because I bought a $9.99 T-shirt. I swallowed my bitterness and pretended to be concerned: “You bought Bella so many clothes. That must have cost a fortune?” Lucas waved dismissively: “So what if I spend money on Bella? She’ll give me back way more!” Bella was curled up in Lucas’s arms, those green eyes looking at me with a challenge. She even stuck out her tongue and licked his fingers. Lucas looked intoxicated by it, and that overwhelming sense of wrongness hit me again. To prove his point, he pulled out a stack of scratch tickets. “This is Bella’s power!” I flipped through them. Ten scratch tickets—and they’d won $12,000! Seeing my stunned expression, Lucas said smugly: “Take good care of her, and once she helps me become a billionaire, this will be nothing!” “Bella…” I repeated the name unconsciously. Then it hit me like lightning. While Lucas and the cat were playing happily together, I made an excuse about looking for something and slipped into the storage room. With trembling hands, I opened Lucas’s treasured college yearbook that he’d kept all these years. Sure enough, I found the name. It belonged to Lucas’s dead first love, Sophia Morgan. In her personal info section, her nickname was clearly written: Bella. I forced down the storm of emotions inside me and walked out holding the yearbook, deliberately putting on a jealous act: “Honey, are you still not over her? You even named your ‘grateful cat’ after her?” Lucas’s hand froze mid-stroke on the cat’s fur, and his face immediately darkened: “Emma, will you ever let this go? What you fell in love with was exactly this—how I sold everything I had to pay for her treatment. That’s the kind of man I am!” “Sophia’s dead. What’s the point of being jealous of a dead woman?” Five years ago, Sophia had terminal cancer, but Lucas never left her side. He went deep into debt trying to save her. I happened to be Sophia’s nurse at the time. I witnessed their undying love and thought he was a rare man of true devotion. After Sophia passed away, I started pursuing him. I stuck with him through the hard times, helped him pay off his debts, and married him even when he had nothing. But now I realized—all of Lucas’s devotion had only ever been for Sophia. Suddenly, my phone buzzed with a friend request. It was from that person who’d warned me about the disaster. 【Your family will face catastrophe within three days! Get rid of that cat immediately!】 I accepted the request, then asked building management to look into the cat. They were efficient. By evening, they sent me their findings. But the results were disappointing. It was just an ordinary stray cat. Plenty of the elderly residents who fed strays had seen it around. It probably wandered over from another neighborhood looking for food, and Lucas happened to spot it and bring it home. After thinking it over, I concluded: if there was nothing wrong with the cat, then the problem had to be with the person. After dinner, I heard clattering noises from the master bedroom. Then Lucas threw my belongings out the door. “What… what’s going on?” I pretended to be shocked. Lucas pointed matter-of-factly toward the storage room: “Bella says that before I become a billionaire, I need to sleep with her every night so she can transfer her fortune energy to me.” I was about to argue when he handed me a lottery ticket. It had won $40,000! “See? This is Bella’s power!” “Just make do in the storage room for now. If you’re around, she gets distracted during the energy transfer, and the fortune won’t reach me—you might even attract bad luck!” “Once we’re rich, honey, I’ll buy you anything you want!”

I was stunned inside, but outwardly I put on the look of a wronged wife: “But there’s not even a bed in the storage room…” Lucas cut me off impatiently: “So what if you sleep on the floor? No pain, no gain.” “Remember—don’t come anywhere near the master bedroom without my permission.” The black cat perched on his shoulder, silently baring her teeth at me, her eyes gleaming with a victor’s triumph. “Okay, honey. You focus on receiving the fortune energy. I’ll be waiting for you to give me the good life.” Right in front of me, Lucas slammed the master bedroom door shut with a bang. Then came the sound of the lock clicking into place. I turned and walked into the storage room, pulled out my phone, and opened the surveillance app. While he was out buying things for the cat, I’d secretly installed a hidden camera in the bedroom. On the screen, Lucas was holding the cat close, gently stroking her now and then. Man and cat, heads together, gradually drifting off to sleep. The scene looked completely normal, but an invisible terror wrapped itself tightly around me. In my previous life, I was burned alive in this drafty storage room. I couldn’t take that risk again. Quietly, I packed a few clothes and slipped out the door, checking into a nearby hotel. For several days in a row, Lucas insisted I sleep in the storage room, claiming that if I slept in the wrong position, it would affect his fortune. So I did the same thing every night—I’d go sleep at the hotel, then sneak back to the storage room in the morning. When Lucas noticed I looked refreshed every day, he asked curiously: “Is sleeping in the storage room really that comfortable?” My heart skipped a beat, and I quickly denied it. That night, Lucas suddenly showed up to check on the storage room. I was prepared and pretended to be groggy from sleep. “Honey, can I please move back to the bedroom? I keep feeling like something’s pressing down on me in here and I can’t breathe.” Lucas’s suspicious expression suddenly relaxed, and he smiled reassuringly: “Just hang in there a couple more days, honey. Once Bella helps me become a billionaire, you can sleep wherever you want!” Then he carried the black cat back to the master bedroom. I wasn’t lying. In my previous life, every night I slept in the storage room, I felt like something was crushing my chest, making it hard to breathe. I’d always thought something was wrong with my body. Now it seemed like this storage room might be hiding something sinister. While Lucas was out, I searched the entire storage room. In a corner, I discovered several creepy-looking talismans! I was starting to get an idea of what was going on. The next day, I knocked on the master bedroom door with a deathly pale face and purple lips: “Honey… please open the door…” “I have a fever. I feel terrible. Please take me to the hospital!” Through the glass, Lucas noticed my complexion and first looked delighted, then shouted angrily: “Hospital? Bella already told me—this is just your body expelling negative energy. It’s a normal reaction.” “But I’m running a 104-degree fever…” Lucas cut me off impatiently: “This is a critical period. We can’t go out, or we’ll leak fortune energy and ruin my path to becoming a billionaire.” “Honey, for the sake of our future good life, just tough it out a little longer.” Desperate, I pounded on the door: “Please just open the door and look at me. I really can’t take it anymore…” Silence from inside for two seconds: “Emma, just hang in there. I’m doing this for your own good. Once I become a billionaire, you’ll have more happiness than you can handle!” I pulled out the pregnancy test I’d prepared—the one showing two lines—and said with tears in my voice: “But I’m pregnant!” The door flew open. Lucas stood in the doorway, and when he saw my deathly pale face, a flash of panic crossed his eyes: “Honey, I’m worried the fever will hurt the baby. Will you please take me to the hospital?” “Pregnant women shouldn’t be around cats. It’s bad for the baby. Maybe… we should rehome Bella for now?” “No!” He practically roared it, his face turning ashen. My heart sank as I stared at him: “It’s just a cat. Is she really more important than our child?” “Are you hiding something from me?”

Lucas was clearly rattled. His eyes darted away, and it took him several seconds to force out a response: “Don’t overthink this. Trust me—you’ll feel better soon.” He reached out to help me up, but suddenly came a soft “meow~” Lucas snatched his hand back, his expression instantly darkening: “This is all your fault. What are you screaming about? You woke up Bella! If she doesn’t rest properly, how is she supposed to bring me fortune?” The door slammed shut. From inside came the sound of him cooing at Bella. I slid down to the floor, my back against the door, my entire body cold. The last shred of hope I had for this man crumbled completely. I pulled out my phone, found that person’s contact, and had just finished sending a message when Lucas suddenly burst out. He stormed into the storage room and pointed at the cross around my neck: “Take off that cross and give it to Bella.” “Bella says the cross will help her gather wealth better, and help me achieve my dream of getting rich faster.” I instinctively clutched my chest and stepped back warily: “No. This is the only thing I have left from my mother. I can’t give it to a cat.” “Honey, it’s just a piece of silver. Is it more important than our family’s fortune? Once I’m rich, I’ll buy you ten of them—a hundred!” Lucas lost his patience. He lunged forward, grabbed a fistful of my hair to force my head back, and roughly yanked at the red cord with his other hand. The cord snapped. A burning sting flared across my neck, but it was nothing compared to the coldness in my heart. He didn’t even glance at me. He turned and gently hung the cross around the black cat’s neck: “Bella, it looks so pretty on you. This is yours now!” The black cat rubbed affectionately against his hand, straightening up and glancing at me as if showing off. “Crack!” A sharp shattering sound. The cross lay in pieces on the floor. The black cat was smugly licking her paw—she had clearly knocked it off on purpose. “Bella, you little troublemaker!” Lucas didn’t scold her at all. Instead, he picked her up adoringly and kissed her: “Breaking it is good—’shattered’ sounds like ‘safe’ in Chinese. Out with the old, in with the new. Bella’s just helping me dispel bad luck!” I stumbled forward and picked up the fragments one by one with trembling hands. The sharp edges cut my fingers. The pain was excruciating. This was the last memento from my mother, and now it was destroyed too. “Meow~” The black cat let out a satisfied, drawn-out cry, as if mocking my futile efforts. “Enough. Stop standing there looking so miserable—it’s depressing.” Lucas frowned and waved his hand dismissively. “Clean that up. All those sharp pieces everywhere—what if they hurt Bella’s paws?” Then he turned and walked away, carrying the cat. I cradled the broken cross, tears streaming down my face. Just then, my phone buzzed. I struggled to pull it out. Just one short line of text, but it made me instantly alert, my blood running cold: “Your home has been set up with a ‘Soul Exchange Formation’! Run while you still can!” The overwhelming terror crushed my grief. I tiptoed toward the front door. One step. Two steps… I gripped the door handle and pressed down gently. Click! The door opened. Joy surged through me. I was about to rush out. A large hand suddenly reached from behind me, slamming the door shut with force: “Honey, you’ve been reborn too, haven’t you?”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “359621”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster #现实主义Realistic #浪漫Romance #重生Reborn #魔幻Magic #惊悚Thriller