I decided to give up applying to the same university as Ethan and chose the school of my own dreams. My parents were surprised—I had finally come to my senses. Only I knew that in my previous life, I had chased him to the train station; my parents followed me and died in a car accident on the way home. I was forced into marriage, gave birth, dropped out of school, and spent twenty years carrying the entire family alone. In the end, my husband smashed my head with his own hands. When I opened my eyes again, I was back at the moment of decision. This time, I will no longer be bound by the past, nor will I save his life. The day I changed my college application, my dad walked into the study, glanced at me, and nodded approvingly. “Good. With your Stanford acceptance, you should attend a top university! Stop chasing after that Carter boy. What’s so great about him anyway?” My mom, hearing this from the kitchen, rushed in and pulled my dad away, giving him a stern look. I watched my parents leave, smiling, but suddenly felt a lump in my throat. In my previous life, I had run out late at night to find Ethan at the train station. My parents, searching for me, were killed by a drunk truck driver. I never got to see them one last time. Fighting back tears, I moved the mouse and clicked the confirm button to change my college application without hesitation.

In my previous life, Ethan, my childhood sweetheart, suddenly announced he wanted to become a singer and pursue his dreams in New York. But before that, he had always said being with me and attending the same college was his dream. I had even wasted my Ivy League admission to apply to the same average state college as him. But two days before the acceptance letters arrived, he suddenly said he was going to New York to chase his dreams. His sick parents, Mr. and Mrs. Carter, came knocking on our door in the middle of the night, begging me to help find their son. In my previous life, I went. My parents, worried about me, followed and ended up in a car accident. Ethan was later found by me. When he heard his parents say that my parents’ deaths were his fault, they insisted he had to make it up to me. So they forced Ethan to get engaged to me, planning for us to marry right after college graduation. But I got pregnant in my sophomore year and had to take a break from school. We hastily got married, I went through pregnancy and childbirth, and took care of the baby. Two years flew by, and just as I was excitedly planning to return to school, his parents fell seriously ill and came to stay with us for treatment. Ethan said to me: “They’re my parents, they need help now. We’re family. It’s what you do.” As for himself, he always claimed work was too busy, that he needed to make money for “our future,” pushing the full burden of caring for his parents and our child onto me. At the time, to save Ethan’s face, I didn’t mention that his monthly salary of $3,500 wasn’t even enough to cover the children’s formula and normal household expenses. Later, I had to sell our old house to pay for his parents’ medical bills and raise our two children. But while I gave up my education and struggled to manage the whole family, he was out making a bunch of fair-weather friends with his meager $3,500 salary. What little money he had left, he spent on making music, claiming he was fulfilling his dream. Crushed by the pressure of family life and after several failed attempts at communication, we started having huge fights. Things got so bad that our marriage counselor even suggested a trial separation, and Ethan’s boss had warned him that his personal issues were affecting the team. He began calling me bitter and narrow-minded, saying if it wasn’t for me forcing him to come back, he would have already become a big star in New York. He even accused me of using my parents’ death to emotionally blackmail him into marrying me. I didn’t hold back either, calling him delusional, saying his terrible voice made his dream of becoming a singer nothing but a pipe dream! When he brought up my parents’ death, I went crazy, lunging at him to shut him up, only to be violently pushed away. After that, Ethan deliberately started staying away from home. His parents, unable to see their son, blamed everything on me, complaining that I was immature and petty, only knowing how to anger their son. They completely forgot how they had begged me to find their son in the first place. In this miserable life, I gritted my teeth and tightened my belt to do odd jobs and earn money to support the family. But the children I had worked so hard to raise were never close to me, instead being affectionate towards the irresponsible Ethan. I thought the children would understand when they grew up, but I waited for over twenty years, until they were married with families of their own. But they competed to have Ethan live with them, while remaining cold and distant towards me. “Mom, you controlled us too much in the past. We don’t want to hear your lectures anymore.” “Dad’s youthful dreams were stifled by you. Now that he’s older, we want to take him to New York to chase his dreams again.” “Grandpa and Grandma were right. You just want everyone to live according to your plans. You’re so selfish!” I never expected my children to say such things. Devastated, I returned home to find Ethan smugly packing his bags, gloating that he was about to leave me for a better life. After dedicating over twenty years to this family, all I was left with was a reputation for being selfish and controlling. Why did Ethan get to be so carefree? Never taking care of the family or responsibilities, yet ending up as the open-minded father in our children’s eyes? I rushed forward and pushed Ethan. He was stunned for a moment, then immediately grabbed a vase and smashed it towards me. “Damn you, you dare to lay hands on me? I’ll beat you to death…” So our deaths were actually the consequence of our mutual assault. As we both fell to the ground, I was still praying in my heart: if there’s a next life, please don’t let me meet Ethan again.

The day I was reborn happened to be the day I changed my college application. Seeing my parents still by my side, I was determined not to get involved with anything related to Ethan again. After the college entrance exam, parties came one after another. I had just finished a gathering with close classmates when I saw Ethan in the distance, laughing and chatting with his buddies. “I heard Ethan isn’t going to college. He’s going to New York to be a singer!” “Wow, isn’t that the trendy thing now, chasing dreams in the big city? If he becomes a big star, should we ask for some autographed photos now to keep as investments?” “Chloe, didn’t you grow up with Ethan? Did you know he was going to New York?” My friend nudged me, and my gaze happened to meet Ethan’s as he turned his head. With just that one look, I was certain that Ethan had also been reborn. “I don’t know. I have something to do. I’m leaving first.” I turned away without a second thought. If he wants to go to New York, let him go. What does his life have to do with me?

As the day of Ethan’s departure drew near, I whined to my parents about missing Grandma and wanting them to take me to see the new pony at her place. My parents always doted on me, so they packed up without hesitation and took me out. Just then, Mrs. Carter opened her door and was surprised to see us leaving. “Going out?” My dad nodded with a smile, “The kid misses her grandma, so we’re going for a few days.” Mrs. Carter smiled and nodded, watching us leave. I pretended to be nonchalant, but in reality, I was clenching my fists tightly in hatred, trying not to let my emotions show. It was laughable how in my previous life, I thought Mrs. Carter truly cared for me. It wasn’t until later that I realized her intentions were never pure from the beginning. She had long had her eye on our house, which was why she worked so hard to bring Ethan and me together after my parents passed away. Back then, having lost my parents, I was crying every day. The gentle and good-natured Mrs. Carter took care of me daily, making me let down all my defenses. Add to that my feelings for Ethan, and I naturally agreed. Little did I know that they had been planning this all along. I took a deep breath, hiding the slight trembling caused by my anger, and started chatting with my parents about Grandma’s new pony, while catching a glimpse of Ethan hurrying away out of the corner of my eye. Ethan must have realized that I had also been reborn, so he had to move up his plan to run away and chase his dreams. My parents and I had just arrived at Grandma’s house and were enjoying dinner when Mom received a call from Mrs. Carter. “Ethan is insisting on going to New York to be a singer. He’s not going to college anymore. Now he’s acting like it’s a matter of life and death, and his father and I can’t talk him out of it… Could you ask Chloe to come back and try to persuade him? After all, the two kids are close, and Ethan listens to Chloe!” The script was almost identical to my previous life. Mom looked at me, a bit troubled. After all, it wasn’t easy to go back at this time from the countryside. I calmly put down my fork and took the phone from Mom’s hand. “Mrs. Carter, this is Ethan’s own decision. I have no right to interfere, and even if I did, he would resent me for it. I think you should respect his choice!” I hung up decisively, not forgetting to block Mrs. Carter’s number. My swift series of actions left even my parents stunned. Grandma was the first to speak up, telling them to continue eating, muttering that other people’s business is their own karma, and we shouldn’t interfere. I thought Grandma’s words couldn’t be more right! After dinner, I was crouching in the yard, petting the dog’s soft head, when my parents came over. “Chloe, what’s been going on with you lately…” Mom hesitated, “It feels like you’re different somehow.” Dad didn’t say anything, but he looked at me with concern. Their gaze made my nose tingle, and as I wiped my eyes, I realized there were actually tears. “Mom, Dad, let me tell you something. I had a dream.” I lied about having a dream and told them everything that happened in my previous life. When they learned that after their deaths, I had been manipulated by the Carter family all along, Dad’s face turned as black as the bottom of a pot. They always believed me, especially since I said the story began with Ethan wanting to go to New York and Mrs. Carter begging me to find him. They also understood why I suddenly wanted to come to Grandma’s house and why I adamantly refused to go find Ethan. “Oh, my dear child, my precious baby.” My mom was always easily moved to tears. Even though she knew it was just a dream, she quickly hugged me, her tears falling on my head one by one, feeling incredibly sorry for me. Dad lit a cigarette nearby and made a decision. “Chloe having this dream might mean that the Carter family is bad luck for us. I’ve decided, we’ll move as soon as we get back! Get far away from them.” I didn’t expect my parents to support me to this extent. My nose tingled, and I nodded tearfully. At the same time, I hugged Mom tighter, feeling her warmth. We stayed in the countryside for half a month, and I noticeably tanned quite a bit. When we left, Grandma packed a car full of food for us. We still had to live in the old house for a while before moving. As soon as we arrived at our front door, Mrs. Carter quickly opened her door. With red, teary eyes, she looked at us, unable to hide the traces of resentment in her gaze.

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After the divorce, he barged into my home with a knife in his hand. He said, “You think getting divorced means you can get rid of me?” “I’m telling you right now—you’ll never escape me for the rest of your life.” In that moment, I finally realized— he had never seen me as a person. I was nothing more than something he had lost control of and was determined to take back. What he didn’t know was this: it was nothing but a trap I had set, meant to get rid of him once and for all. 0 Lucas and I had fallen in love naturally. We worked for the same company but in different departments. One day, we met while collaborating on the same project. That was when Lucas fell for me, head over heels. He went out of his way to win my affection. At 28, I wasn’t getting any younger, and my parents were pressing me to settle down. They even threatened to set me up with someone if I didn’t bring home a boyfriend for the holidays. Lucas, tall and broad-shouldered with a bright, charming demeanor, had exactly the look that melted my heart. It didn’t take long for me to agree to date him. We dated for two years, meeting each other’s families during that time. Eventually, under pressure from both sides, we tied the knot. This year marked our first New Year’s as a married couple. As a daughter living away from home, I couldn’t help but yearn to spend the holidays with my parents. So I suggested to Lucas that we visit his family first, then head to my parents’ place in Oakridge on December 31. Initially, Lucas wasn’t thrilled with the idea, but my persistent coaxing won him over. To sweeten the deal, I bought him the gaming console he’d been eyeing for months but had been too frugal to buy. Once he had that console, a grin never left his face. With the plans finalized, I threw myself into getting everything ready for the trip. Finally, on December 24, we packed up the car and drove to Dry Creek, KY, where Lucas’s family lived. His parents and sisters were delighted to see us, especially since I had thoughtfully prepared expensive gifts for everyone. The first few days at their house were pleasant. Then came December 31. I didn’t want to risk getting stuck in a traffic jam, so on December 30, I loaded everything we’d need for my parents’ house into the car. That night, I encouraged Lucas to get a good night’s rest so we could hit the road early. The thought of reuniting with my family after six months filled me with so much joy that I couldn’t sleep. The alarm rang early, and I sprang out of bed. Lucas was still asleep, so I gently woke him up. “Babe, I’m going to wash up. You should get up too, freshen up, and we’ll grab a quick bite before heading out.” I was too excited to notice the odd expression flickering across his face. After washing up and getting dressed, I waited for a long while, but Lucas didn’t come out. By the time I checked the clock, it was already 9:30 a.m. Worried about holiday traffic, I went back to the bedroom to wake him. When I opened the door, I found Lucas burrowed under the covers, snoring so loudly it could shake the walls. Peeling back the blanket, I saw the dark circles under his eyes and remembered how hard he’d worked preparing for the holidays. Feeling a twinge of guilt, I decided we could leave after lunch. Quietly, I tucked him back in and left the room. In the yard, I called my parents to let them know we’d be late and went to the kitchen to prepare lunch. 0

After lunch, I began urging Lucas to start driving me back to my parents’ place. “Everything’s packed. You just need to drive,” I said, grabbing his arm and leading him toward the car. “It’s a long trip, but you can drive the first leg. When we get to a rest area, we’ll swap, and I’ll take over. That way, we won’t get too tired, and we might even make it in time for dinner!” I was so caught up in my excitement that I didn’t notice the growing irritation on Lucas’s face. As we approached the yard gate, he suddenly pulled his arm away and bellowed, “I’m not going!” The force of his words stunned me. I froze for a moment, staring at him in disbelief. “What did you say?” I stammered. His face was etched with frustration. Without sparing me a glance, he repeated, “I said, I’m not going,” and turned to walk back into the house. I hurried after him, grabbing his arm again. “Lucas Mills! What do you mean, you’re not going? You promised we’d spend New Year’s at my parents’ house! What’s this all about?” He yanked his arm free and snapped, “I said I’m not going because I don’t feel like it. Can’t you understand that?” He stormed off, leaving me standing there, stunned by his blunt dismissal. As I watched him walk away, realization hit me like a ton of bricks. The promise to spend New Year’s Eve with my family had been a lie. He had lured me to Dry Creek, far from my parents in Oakridge, knowing I’d be trapped. Without the car keys, and with the holiday rush making it impossible to buy a bus ticket, I had no way of leaving. It was all a calculated move to ensure that I had no choice but to stay here for New Year’s. Fury welled up inside me. I charged toward him and kicked him hard in the leg. “Lucas Mills! You planned this, didn’t you? You never intended to visit my parents, did you? You lied to me!” Lucas winced but quickly switched tactics, his tone softening as he tried to pacify me. “Maya, think about it. You’re my wife now. You do as I say. We’re staying here.” I let out a bitter laugh. “That’s not how my family works! My parents, my brother, and my sister all want me to come home. Just because your family doesn’t want their daughters back doesn’t mean mine feels the same way!” Seeing that I wasn’t backing down, Lucas tried again, his voice turning cold. “Maya, if you leave, what will people here think? What will they say about me? About my parents? Can’t you just give me this one year? Stay here, for my sake.” “Your sake?” I snapped, glaring at him. “Your reputation? That’s what this is about? You agreed to go, and now you’re backing out. You’re disgusting!” Lucas’s expression darkened, but he admitted, “If I hadn’t agreed, you would’ve argued endlessly. So yeah, I said yes to keep you quiet.” I stared at him, dumbfounded. “Are you seriously trying to pin this on me?!” I demanded. To my shock, he nodded. “Well, yeah. Who else am I supposed to blame, Maya?” A laugh bubbled out of me, bitter and furious. “Lucas Mills, you have the nerve to blame me for your lies? You’re unbelievable!” Before I could say more, a commotion drew my attention. Lucas’s parents, Patricia and Robert, along with his sisters, Chloe and Hailey, poured out of the house. Their expressions ranged from smug satisfaction to thinly veiled disdain. Clearly, they’d overheard the argument. Lucas’s ego couldn’t take the hit. His face twisted in anger, and before I could react, he slapped me across the face. The force of the blow left me reeling, tears springing to my eyes. “You coward!” I yelled, clutching my stinging cheek. Furious, I raised my hand to strike back, but he grabbed my wrist and twisted it sharply. Pain shot through my arm. Before I could cry out, a heavy blow landed on my head. The world spun, and my vision blurred. The fireplace poker he’d swung at me clattered to the ground as I crumpled. The moment I hit the dirt, his kicks and punches started raining down. “You don’t listen!” he shouted. “You had to keep pushing me!” “You’re desperate to go back to Oakridge? Why? Got a lover waiting for you?” “You’re nothing but trouble!” I curled into a ball, shielding my head with my hands, trying to endure the relentless assault. Amid the chaos, I heard his family’s voices, loud and gleeful. “Teach her a lesson, Lucas! She needs to learn to obey!” Patricia crowed. “Don’t hit her too hard, son. You don’t want her too bruised for tonight,” Robert added, laughing cruelly. “She needs this,” Chloe chimed in. “Who does she think she is, trying to go back to her parents’ house?” “Hit her harder, Lucas!” Hailey yelled. “If she’s still moving, you’re not doing it right!” Their taunts echoed around me as I lay there, battered and broken. It was in that moment I realized the full extent of the nightmare I’d walked into. This family wasn’t just cruel—they were monsters. I tried to push myself up, to fight back, but the dizziness overwhelmed me. The first blow to my head must have caused a concussion. My vision swam, and darkness crept in. As my consciousness slipped away, I heard their laughter, loud and unrelenting, as they returned to the house. I was left alone in the yard, discarded like trash. 0

The winter wind bit into my skin like icy needles, making every part of me ache. The cold night air howled through the yard as I slowly opened my eyes. It was a moonless, star-filled night. I was still lying in the corner of the Mills’ yard, abandoned and forgotten. Inside the house, Lucas’s family was gathered, enjoying their New Year’s Eve dinner and watching the ball drop on TV. The pain radiating from my body brought me fully back to my senses. I tried to move, wincing as I propped myself up against the corner of the wall. The sting in my head and the bruises on my body were made worse by the bitter wind cutting through my clothes. I was cold to my core—inside and out. That’s when everything became clear. The Mills weren’t just cruel. They were monsters. They had stood by as Lucas beat me, egging him on, as if my suffering were a spectator sport. This was their way of showing me my place. In their eyes, now that I was married to Lucas, I belonged to him—and by extension, to them. If I dared to resist their rules, they’d punish me however they wanted. I wasn’t a wife to them. I was their servant, their obedient daughter-in-law, their personal ATM. I looked through the window at their cheerful gathering. Holding onto the wall for support, I moved as silently as possible. Fortunately, Lucas’s bedroom was far enough from the dining room that they couldn’t hear me. I crept into his room, my fingers trembling as I rummaged through his clothes. Finally, I felt the cold metal of the car keys in his pocket. With the keys secured, I grabbed my phone and purse. In the dark, I slipped back out of the bedroom and toward the main gate. Luckily, the gate wasn’t fully shut, just left slightly ajar. I nudged it open just enough to squeeze through, keeping as quiet as possible. Once outside, I ran. I ran as fast as my battered body would allow, heading for the community parking lot where all the neighbors parked their cars. The moonlight guided me, and the pain in my body spurred me on. When I finally reached the car, I climbed in and locked the doors. My hands shook as I inserted the key into the ignition. For the first time all night, I allowed myself a small sigh of relief. I pulled myself together and started driving, leaving Dry Creek and the Mills far behind. On the way, I called my parents. Through tears and sobs, I recounted everything that had happened. On the other end of the line, my dad’s furious voice shouted curses while my mom and siblings exclaimed in outrage. They told me to head straight for my house in Knoxville, where I’d be safe, and assured me they’d come the next day with the whole family to confront the Mills. By the time I reached my house, I was emotionally and physically drained. I barely managed to crawl into bed before sleep claimed me, the tension finally leaving my body. 0

I woke up to the smell of food—a warm, comforting scent that coaxed me from sleep. When I opened my eyes, my mom was sitting by my bedside, holding a bowl of my favorite chicken and rice soup. “Maya, you’re awake,” she said gently, setting the bowl on the nightstand and helping me sit up. Her eyes filled with worry as she brushed a hand over my forehead. “Eat a little, sweetie, and then get some more rest,” she said softly. I nodded, taking the bowl and sipping the soup. Its warmth spread through me, easing the chill in my soul. I had just finished eating when a loud shout echoed from the living room. “I’ll kill his sorry ass!” It was my dad. A loud slap of a hand hitting the table followed. I quickly got dressed and went downstairs with my mom. The living room was packed with family members, all of whom had rushed over after hearing what happened. My dad, his temper blazing as usual, had already been yelling for a solid ten minutes, supported by my uncles. When I entered the room, everyone turned to look at me, their faces filled with anger and concern. My uncles pulled out their phones, calling their kids and urging them to bring more people over for support. My sister and cousins hurried over to help me to the couch. As women, they understood my pain on a deeper level, and their expressions mirrored my own outrage and sorrow. Soon, the house was overflowing with family members, especially my brothers and male cousins, who came ready to back me up. Everyone turned to me, asking what I wanted to do next. “Maya, whatever you decide, we’re with you,” my cousin Ryan said firmly. “Yeah, Maya! This is outrageous! Who just beats someone like that?” another chimed in. The room buzzed with voices, all discussing how to handle the Mills and get justice for me. My parents were the most decisive of all. “Maya, you need to divorce that bastard,” my dad said firmly. “We’ll support you,” my mom added. “We’re not too old to work, and we’ve got good pensions. We can take care of you, no problem.” My siblings chimed in, agreeing wholeheartedly. “Maya, I’ll send you money every month if it comes to that,” Nathan promised. “Same here,” Chloe added. “Whatever you need, we’ll make it happen.” “Divorce him, Maya,” they said in unison. They handed me their credit cards without hesitation. “Here, use these. Buy whatever you need,” Chloe insisted. I leaned back on the couch, their unwavering support filling me with newfound resolve. “You don’t need to worry. I’m divorcing him, no question about it. And I’ll make sure to get every cent I deserve from that scumbag!” My determination reassured them, and they began making plans to confront Lucas’s family. Just as we were about to leave, my phone rang. It was Lucas. I smirked, put him on speaker, and answered. “What do you want, Lucas?” “Maya Reyes! Where the hell are you?!” he bellowed. “Where are my car keys? Where’s the car? Did you seriously steal my car? You’d better get your ass back here, or I’ll break your legs!” Everyone in the room fell silent, listening as he ranted. “It’s just New Year’s! You’re throwing a fit because I wouldn’t take you home? You know wives are supposed to stay with their husband’s family for the holidays!” “And don’t make a big deal about me hitting you. That’s just how things are! A wife needs to be taught a lesson now and then!” “You didn’t die, did you? Didn’t break any bones? So what’s the problem? You should be thanking me for teaching you a lesson!” “Get your ass back here and start cooking dinner. Everyone’s waiting for you!” Before he could hang up, my dad snatched the phone. “So hitting my daughter was for her own good, huh? Should I come over and ‘teach’ you a lesson by breaking a few bones?” “Why don’t you go clean a toilet with that dirty mouth of yours instead of talking about my daughter?” “Though I suppose it’s hard for you to tell the difference between your brain and your gut. They’re both full of crap!” Lucas was left stammering, completely out of comebacks. “D-Dad, it’s not like that… Maya must’ve exaggerated. You’re misunderstanding the situation…” Before he could continue, my mom grabbed the phone. “My daughter doesn’t lie, you spineless coward. You’d better prepare yourself!” She slammed the phone down and pulled us all toward the door.

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My husband brought his mistress home for the night. Finding our son an inconvenience, he locked him inside an airtight closet. Twelve hours later, the child’s fingernails were torn, bones exposed, and he died alone in the dark. When I called his father to come back and identify the body, he laughed on the phone and said, “You’ll really make up any lie, won’t you?” I was on a business trip overseas when I got a call from Amanda, our housekeeper. She told me something had happened to my son and urged me to come home immediately. I booked the nearest flight, rushing frantically to the hospital. All I saw was the red light glowing above the operating room door. Soon, the light went out, and the doctor emerged, his voice heavy with sorrow as he looked at us. “Please accept our deepest condolences. We did everything we could.” I felt utterly frozen, my fingertips numb, a sudden acid reflux rising in my stomach, and my heart felt like it was clutched by a giant hand. I fought to stay conscious, my fingernails digging deep into my palms. Mr. and Mrs. Carter, Ethan’s parents, who had rushed back from out of town, saw the scene. They were furious, demanding to know from Amanda what had happened. Amanda, seeing my pale face, quickly stepped forward to support me, then began to explain to Mr. and Mrs. Carter. “Mr. Carter brought Ms. Miller home to stay. Little Liam accidentally snagged her stockings while playing with his toy plane, so Mr. Carter locked Liam in the closet.” My mind went blank with a loud buzz, and my legs gave out, sending me to my knees. Our house had a custom-built, solid wood closet. It was heavy and airtight. According to Amanda, Liam had been locked inside for at least a dozen hours. “That animal! Chloe, call him! Tell him to get back here!” I fumbled for my phone, my trembling fingers hitting the wrong buttons several times. When the call connected, Ethan’s impatient voice answered. “Why are you calling? Are you looking for another fight?” My voice was hollow. “Our son… he’s dead.” Ethan on the other end scoffed. “You’ll really say any lie to stop me from being with Madison, won’t you?” Before I could speak, I heard Madison Miller’s voice in the background. “Ethan, did you book the hotel?” I heard Ethan’s doting voice. “All set. This time, no one unimportant will ruin our trip.” Madison whined playfully. “Last time, your family kept calling and bothering us. That won’t happen again, right?” “Don’t worry, I’ll block her number soon.” Madison’s tinkling laugh carried through the phone, her voice syrupy sweet. “My stockings got ruined yesterday. You’ll have to make it up to me today, big time.”

Beside me, Mrs. Carter’s lips trembled with rage. She snatched the phone from my hand. “Do you even know what happened to your son?! You’re still out there with that hussy!” Ethan’s voice was cold, filled with impatience. “So he was locked up for a bit. What’s the big deal? If Chloe hadn’t corrupted our son, making him intentionally target Madison, why would I have punished him?” “Mom, can you stop being so ridiculous? I married her back just as you wanted. What more do you want?” Mr. Carter’s face turned crimson with anger. He roared, “You get back here right now!” But from the other end, I heard Madison’s tearful voice. “Ethan, is it your family causing trouble again?” Ethan sighed impatiently. “Dad, Mom, please stop this nonsense. Madison and I will be back after our trip.” The call disconnected. I felt completely hollowed out, staring despairingly at Mr. and Mrs. Carter. “Liam is gone. I have nothing left. Let me go.” Just then, the police arrived, having received a call. They took us to the station. Soon, the autopsy results came out. “The deceased’s cause of death was asphyxiation in a confined space. His fingernails were torn off, flesh ripped, and bones exposed. This indicates extreme struggle and attempts to break free before death.” “We’ve taken the house’s housekeeper in for questioning. Now, please tell us what you know.” After ensuring we weren’t deliberately abusing the child, the police’s attitude softened considerably. Amanda, who had been summoned, was in tears. “Mr. Carter was the one who locked the child in the closet. And to prevent us from letting the child out, he sent all of us away.” “I was worried about Liam, so after Mr. Carter left, I immediately rushed back to let him out.” “When I opened the closet, there was blood everywhere, and the child’s face was blue.” I couldn’t imagine what Liam had endured in that closet. He must have been so scared and in so much pain. He must have been screaming for his mom to save him in his last moments.

For a moment, the world spun around me, my head buzzing, and my body felt like dead weight, collapsing onto the police station chair. Mrs. Carter, seeing my state, couldn’t bear it and pulled me into her embrace. Finally, Mr. Carter spoke. “Chloe, it’s our fault. Our family failed to raise Ethan properly.” I covered my face with my hands, large tears rolling down my cheeks, and I sobbed, gut-wrenching cries tearing from my throat. Fifteen years ago, my parents died, leaving behind a vast inheritance. My relatives swarmed me, like vultures circling prey. At that time, Ethan and I were practically childhood sweethearts. Mr. and Mrs. Carter stepped in, helping me secure my parents’ legacy. The day Mr. and Mrs. Carter brought me home, Ethan held my hand, his eyes filled with love and a firm determination to protect me. He had promised then that he would be good to me forever, that he would always protect me. But after our son was born, he grew increasingly distant and busy. Until I saw him, the man who claimed to be in a meeting, with his arm around Madison Miller, splurging cash at the mall. I screamed, demanding to know why he was doing this to me, but he just shoved me away in disgust, looking down on me with contempt. “Enough. Look at yourself. You don’t hold a candle to Madison.” In that moment, I suddenly understood that all the love we once shared had vanished like smoke. Yet, a sliver of hope lingered in my heart. I quietly stayed home, caring for our child, managing Ethan’s life, hoping that one day he would change his mind. But this time, for Madison Miller, he actually laid hands on his own child. Mr. Carter lowered his head, his face etched with sorrow, his voice choked. “Our child was killed by him. How could our family produce such an animal?” “Tomorrow, after Liam’s cremation, if you wish to leave, take his ashes with you. Our family has wronged you greatly.” I struggled to my feet, bowing deeply to Mr. and Mrs. Carter. “Thank you for your help all those years ago. I’m taking Liam and leaving this place. I won’t be coming back. Please take good care of yourselves.”

Back home, Ethan’s call came in. “Chloe Hayes, how long are you going to keep up this act? Tell Dad to unblock my cards!” Ethan heard my silence and roared impatiently. “Have you had enough yet?! If you keep this up, we’re getting a divorce. Madison already has my child anyway. You can just take that dead weight of yours and get out of the Carter family!” My voice was calm, numb. “The child is dead.” He scoffed dismissively. “Are you going to claim I killed him, too?” “You’ll really say anything to break up Madison and me.” He hung up, the phone beeping. At the same time, Mr. Bennett, the lawyer Mr. Carter sent, handed me the divorce papers. I signed my name without the slightest hesitation, my mind replaying Liam’s voice. It was Father’s Day. Liam had clumsily made Ethan a handmade card, but Ethan never came home. To this day, I still remember Liam’s disappointed eyes. “Mommy, does Daddy not like me?” “Why does Daddy never play with me or hug me? All the kids in my class get hugs from their Daddies.” I was physically and mentally exhausted. I curled up on Liam’s small bed, the one he slept in before, and fell asleep. The next day, Liam’s body was sent for cremation. As the incinerator hummed, I felt my own heart being burned into a handful of ashes. The staff handed me a delicate ceramic urn. The child who had just recently called me “Mommy” in his sweet, baby voice was now nothing but a cold urn. Mr. and Mrs. Carter wiped their tears, looking as if they had aged ten years overnight. They gently caressed the urn. “After you bury Liam, could you please tell us the address? He is our grandson, after all.” I nodded, my voice choked with emotion. “I only have one request: don’t tell Ethan where Liam is buried.”

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Life Drawing. Every art student knows exactly what I’m talking about. But have you ever wondered why nude models are typically older? I know what you’re thinking. But beyond that, there’s another critical factor. Younger bodies are just more alluring. Professor Yang was a renowned artist brought in from the city to teach at our local academy. By day, I was just one of his many students. But by night, I was his private model. To be blunt, his nude model. At first, I felt incredibly shy, but under Professor Yang’s professional guidance, I gradually grew more confident. When it came to his art, Professor Yang was always extremely serious. During our sessions, I’d constantly adjust my poses to meet his standards until he was satisfied. And inevitably, there was physical contact. I initially thought, “It’s for art— a small sacrifice is nothing.” But as Professor Yang’s actions became bolder, I began to realize. Things were spiraling out of control. My name is Zhang Xuan, and I’m an art student. My grades were so poor that getting into college felt impossible. This was my only shortcut. As my teachers put it, this was my only way to change my life. At the time, I felt resentful, thinking they were belittling me. But later, I had to admit. This path truly altered the course of my life for decades to come. To boost our acceptance rates into top art programs, the school hired the city’s most famous artist to teach us. His name was Yang Bowen. He looked exactly as his title suggested – refined and thoughtful. Because he’d previously taught at well-known academies, we respectfully called him Professor Yang. Unlike other famous artists. Professor Yang was famous for his nude paintings. The young women he painted always had stunning curves, but what always stood out was that the models’ faces were never shown in his art. Yet, this very characteristic sparked countless men’s imaginations. Once, during a city interview, Professor Yang was asked if he’d personally studied the female form to portray it with such exquisite detail. He’d always brush it off with a smile. He always claimed that imagination was vital for an artist, and that his paintings were purely from his mind, without any external reference. But I knew he was lying. Because the nude models in his paintings were all based on real life. And that person was me.

Nude models aren’t uncommon in the art world, but young women rarely take on the role. Even if it’s for the sake of art, it’s hard for young people to put themselves in that position. So, my role as Professor Yang’s private nude model was kept entirely secret. He didn’t want his methods questioned. And I certainly didn’t want my nude body exposed to the public. The fact that the models’ faces never appeared in his paintings was the only decency Professor Yang afforded me. Besides teaching, Professor Yang did most of his creative work late at night. First, because midnight brought more inspiration. Second, it made it easier for me to sneak into the school’s art studio when no one else was around. Under the guise of private lessons, I provided him with material for his art. When I completed the last stroke of a drawing, Professor Yang praised it as he looked at the canvas, “You’ve improved again. At this rate, your spot at a top art academy is secured.” Professor Yang never held back praise, but he never praised a piece of art lightly either. So when he said that, I knew my admission was a sure thing. “Alright, that’s enough for this session. Now it’s time for your payment,” Professor Yang said, turning his gaze to me, his eyes full of impatience. There’s no such thing as a free lunch, and no free lessons either. My payment for Professor Yang’s tutoring was an entire night as his model. Despite my shyness and hesitation, I had to do it to achieve my dream of getting into a top art school. So, under Professor Yang’s watchful eyes, I removed my clothes one by one. Until I was down to just my lingerie, Professor Yang suddenly called out, “Stop.” I looked up, confused, meeting his gaze. His eyes lit up as if he’d discovered a priceless treasure. “Don’t take off any more,” he interrupted. “Just like that. It leaves more to the imagination.” I was positioned on a chair. Before the actual creation began, I’d be adjusted for almost an hour. Professor Yang’s dedication to art bordered on obsession. From my posture to the expression I should hold, he meticulously controlled every detail. Until he achieved his ideal state, he would never begin to draw. Professor Yang stood before me, carefully examining my body. Any imperfections, no matter how small, would be adjusted. The accidental brush of his fingers against my skin always made my limbs stiffen even more. Whenever this happened, Professor Yang would snap, “If you don’t relax, we’ll be stuck like this all night.” I could only tell myself to relax, reminding myself that it was all just for art. Outside this studio, no one would know whose body was in the painting. So, I met Professor Yang’s gaze, and my movements gradually grew bolder. “Yes, exactly!” Professor Yang clapped his hands. “Exaggerate the expression a bit more. You need to show that delicate shyness, that coy femininity.” “Your eyes— make them more alluring.” “Widen your movements, yes, hold it right there.” Although the model’s face would never appear in the painting, Professor Yang always said that only when the model’s expression was right would the painting truly come alive. Professor Yang directed me while his hands moved constantly. Holding the same pose for so long made my body tremble uncontrollably. It wasn’t until Professor Yang stopped drawing, staring intently at the canvas, that I realized the creation was complete. Only this time, his expression wasn’t good. “What’s wrong?” I got up from the chair and walked to his side to look at the artwork with him. “Don’t you feel like something’s missing?” Professor Yang suddenly asked. I looked at him, confused. In my eyes, this painting was already an unattainable masterpiece among our peers. I truly didn’t understand Professor Yang’s demanding standards. My shoulder suddenly felt heavy as Professor Yang placed both hands on them. “That delicate shyness,” His gaze circled my body, then settled on my face. “Yes, you lack that maidenly demureness.” Then, he took another step closer to me. “I think you need help finding that feeling.”

“What feeling?” “The feeling of shyness.” In the interrogation room, Detective Chen, who was questioning me, frowned deeply. After a long pause, he spoke again, “Is it what I think it is?” My throat felt dry, and I couldn’t speak for a moment, only managing a slight nod. “From what I understand, you had just turned eighteen,” he looked at me, enunciating each word. “So if something really happened that night, he was committing a crime.” Yes, how could Professor Yang do something that would ruin his reputation? “So, nothing happened that night.” A flicker of surprise crossed Detective Chen’s face, but he quickly regained his composure. He raised his chin slightly, motioning for me to continue. That night, Professor Yang’s gaze roamed over my body, naked and raw. Like a hunter, cornering its prey. After a tense standoff, he asked, “Do you want our relationship to go a step further?” Even as an inexperienced young woman, I understood what Professor Yang implied. I froze, caught off guard, standing there unsure what to do. “I know you come from a difficult family background, and everyone has low expectations for your studies. I imagine…” he looked at me, each word deliberate, “you’re working so hard to prove them wrong, aren’t you?” It was phrased as a question, yet I heard it as a statement of fact from Professor Yang’s mouth. Professor Yang was right. The reason I swallowed my pride to be his nude model was indeed to gain more respect. I had a dysfunctional family background; my parents divorced, and I lived with my father. Because my academic performance was poor, no one supported me continuing school – not even my teachers. So, I had to make those who looked down on me feel ashamed. Professor Yang understood me too well. But… I never intended to sell my body. Professor Yang didn’t say anything, just watched me, seemingly waiting for my answer. Perhaps too impatient for my response, his fingers slid down my arm, then seized both my hands. “I can give you better inspiration for your art. If you agree, I’ll guarantee you get into your dream college.” He looked at me, his eyes filled with an unsettling blend of artistic fervor and raw desire. Before I graduated, I still needed Professor Yang’s guidance. Instead of outright refusing, I said, “I… I’m not eighteen yet.” But artists are notoriously stubborn. “It doesn’t matter,” Professor Yang tightened his grip, and I felt my arm might shatter. “I’ll wait until you turn eighteen.” He knew my eighteenth birthday was next month. He said, on the day I turned eighteen, I should give myself to him as a gift. That day, I suddenly realized that Professor Yang was not someone I could afford to provoke. “So, you agreed to it?” DetectiveChen’s eyes widened in disbelief, as if he’d heard something incredible. I looked at him, a bitter smile on my face. “DetectiveChen, I never had a choice.” I knew Professor Yang was a married man with a daughter. If I agreed to his terms, I would become the other woman. Even with my intense desire for a top art education, I didn’t want to do something immoral. Without much hesitation, I began to refuse again. “Professor Yang, I can’t…” Before I finished speaking, the grip on my wrist suddenly loosened. Professor Yang released my wrist, and his expression instantly changed. “I advise you to think carefully before you answer me,” he said, looking at me impassively, his voice devoid of warmth. He walked over to the canvas and carefully examined the nude woman’s body in the painting. “I suddenly feel that such a beautiful painting is somewhat incomplete without a face,” he abruptly turned, his eyes fixed on me like a viper’s. “How about I complete it for you?” My heart clenched instantly, and my eyes widened in terror. If the full image of that painting were ever to be made public, forget college, I’d struggle to even continue living in this city. I never imagined Professor Yang would resort to threatening me like this. I frantically shook my head, my voice choked with tears, begging him not to do it. But Professor Yang merely stood there, his gaze a mocking smile, as he scrutinized my body from head to toe. In that moment, I knew I truly had no choice. After a moment’s thought, I slowly approached Professor Yang. Under his slightly surprised gaze, I stood on tiptoe and wrapped my arms around his neck. In a voice only he and I could hear, I whispered, “Okay.” I promised Professor Yang that on my eighteenth birthday, I would give myself to him.

“But actually, you had already decided to kill him that day.” In the interrogation room, Detective Chen looked at me with a somber gaze. I stared at a blank spot on the floor, my hands unconsciously clenching. When I looked up, I met Detective Chen’s eyes. I slowly shook my head. “I never planned that.” Influenced by my dysfunctional family, I was, like Professor Yang, an extreme egoist. Professor Yang wasn’t worth risking my entire future for. “So what exactly happened that night?” Detective Chen clearly didn’t believe my story. “The night Professor Yang was found, only you and he were in the studio.” I lowered my head again, my fingernails digging deeply into my flesh. What happened that night was like a nightmare to me. My eighteenth birthday was no different from any other day. By day, I was one of Professor Yang’s many ordinary students: he taught, and I listened. Until the final evening class bell rang, and students gradually left the studio, leaving just Professor Yang and me, our eyes meeting. He stood at the podium, his lips silently opening and closing. I quickly read his lips: “Are you ready?” Under his raw, scrutinizing gaze, I began to remove my outer clothes, one by one. I couldn’t tell if it was shame or something else, but my face felt flushed. With only one piece of clothing left, Professor Yang stopped me, “No rush.” Under my puzzled gaze, Professor Yang walked to the canvas. He smiled, “You look exceptionally captivating right now.” I don’t think I truly knew what Professor Yang was like in his private life. But his talent and passion for painting were undeniable. He always seemed able to create art anytime, anywhere. I held my pose, and Professor Yang sat before his canvas, both of us in a rare, unspoken understanding. Occasionally, he would look up at me, his face betraying no emotion. I knew that usually, in such cases, he was deep in thought, immersed in his creation. “And then? How did you end up drinking?” Detective Chen’s eyes were full of suspicion. I lowered my head, biting my lip. After every completed painting, he was always exceptionally excited. So that day, Professor Yang suggested we have a drink, a small celebration for our “first time.” Before I could react, he turned off the lights and led me to a corner of the studio. He looked at me, filling my glass with wine. “Have some. Girls are most enchanting when they’re a little tipsy.” I looked at the liquid in the glass, hesitating. I knew I probably couldn’t escape that night. Professor Yang downed his drink in one gulp. For some reason, I felt a surge of fear. If what happened between Professor Yang and me that night were discovered by a third party, I would undoubtedly be the one most affected. Thinking this, I suddenly stood up. “Professor Yang, can you wait for me for a moment?” Professor Yang’s eyes showed confusion, and I quickly explained, “I’ve been holding the same pose for a long time, and I’ve started to sweat. I want to go back to my dorm to wash up first.” I paused, then added, “And change my clothes.” Professor Yang clearly looked impatient, finishing the last sip of his wine. Just when I thought Professor Yang would scold me, he simply waved his hand. “Girls are so much trouble. Go quickly and come right back.” I hadn’t expected Professor Yang to agree so readily, and a wave of secret relief washed over me. Without bothering to straighten my clothes, I stumbled out of the studio in a panic. Although it was just an excuse, I probably couldn’t avoid what was coming that night. Still, having some time to breathe was a good thing. While washing up in my dorm, I secretly prayed that Professor Yang was already drunk and passed out. Maybe… I could still escape. On my way back to the studio, my heart pounded with anxiety. I was terrified of what awaited me that night. But to my shock, the moment I stepped into the studio, I froze. I never imagined I’d encounter an even more terrifying situation. On the table, wine glasses lay scattered. And Professor Yang lay on the floor, his arms limp at his sides. I initially thought Professor Yang was just drunk, so I tried to pull him up. But no matter how I called him, he didn’t react at all.

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My attractive neighbor’s Bluetooth paired with my phone. The next thing I knew, it started playing explicit BDSM content… Staring at the brightly lit tech park at midnight, I dragged my exhausted body into a taxi. I’m an overworked programmer. I’m young enough to pull all-nighters, but it’s brutal. Unfortunately, everyone around me is caught in a cutthroat race to the bottom—each more driven than the last. Leaning against the car window, watching the streetlights whiz by, I slowly closed my eyes. “Hey, kid, we’re here!” The driver’s voice jolted me awake. “Oh, right, thanks.” I couldn’t believe I’d actually dozed off on the ride. “Young man, you gotta take care of yourself—otherwise you’ll never find a girlfriend,” the driver joked. “Don’t worry, I’m perfectly fine!” I hopped out quickly. That short nap had actually cleared my head a bit. Time for a shower! The shower water was scalding hot. I tested the temperature with my foot before stepping in. Soon, my lower legs were enveloped in warm water while my thighs pressed against the cold porcelain. *Splash!* I submerged myself completely. *Sigh.* After a long day, most of my fatigue finally melted away. I propped my phone on the caddy above the tub and swiped to pick a thriller. But weirdly, just a few minutes in, an incredibly graphic scene popped up on my screen! A woman with pigtails in a sheer nightgown was on the floor. Blindfolded with a dog collar around her neck, a well-dressed man behind her whipped her relentlessly with a belt. The woman in the video screamed nonstop. *Drip, drip.* Oh my God. I grabbed tissues quickly, tilting my head back to stop my nosebleed. I wasn’t 18 anymore, but I was still a young, virile guy! Panicked, I tried to turn down the volume, but the screen wasn’t responding to my touch. What the hell was going on? I might be a programmer, but even I’d notice if my phone had a virus, right? “Wait a second…” I checked—my Bluetooth was on. So it wasn’t my phone’s fault. I got out of the tub, dried off, and lit a cigarette. Bluetooth range isn’t that far, and there were only three apartments on my floor. One belonged to grandparents out of town for two days. The other was a new neighbor—I didn’t even know if it was a guy or girl. From my bathroom layout, only their unit had the same setup, meaning they were right next door. This was beyond awkward. To prevent a repeat, I decided to knock and have a word with the new neighbor. Cigarette in mouth, I headed over. Taking a deep breath, I pressed the doorbell. Waiting, I noticed a cute pink Hello Kitty sticker at the top—definitely a girl’s place. “Coming!” a playful voice called. Yep, definitely a woman. The door opened to a woman who only came up to my chin. Her hair was damp—she’d obviously been in the shower. And that tiny towel barely covered her curves—like ripe peaches ready to burst. My expression softened a bit. I took a drag of my cigarette, trying to cool off. I leaned casually against the doorframe, doing my best not to stare at her body. “Fang Yan. Your neighbor.” “H-hi, I’m Mu Sisi.” I watched her legs pressing together, and a mischievous urge to tease her hit me. Since she was so short, I had to lean down to speak near her ear. “Quit messing with the volume. My cat’s going crazy meowing like she’s in heat.” Mu Sisi froze for a second, then stammered: “Oh I’m so sorry—I paired with the wrong device!” Her face turned bright red. “No problem,” I said, turning to leave. Before she closed the door, I added: “Next time you’re getting frisky, double-check your Bluetooth.”

Back home, I filled Misty’s food bowl to the brim. “Cut it out—your dad’s already stressed enough. Keep meowing like that and I’ll do something drastic!” Misty’s constant meows only made me hornier. I grabbed my phone from the bathroom. I meant to turn off Bluetooth, but hesitated before tapping the button. Suddenly, the screen changed again—another video, less intense but still interesting. Looks like the neighbor hadn’t turned off her Bluetooth either. This time there was no sound, so I lay on bed and watched until I fell asleep. The silence helped me sleep, but I had vivid dreams—also just images, no sound. The person in the collar was Mu Sisi. This time she wasn’t blindfolded—I could clearly see the mole under her eye. And the well-dressed man was me. I didn’t even have to speak; one look from me, and she stuck out her tongue and knelt at my feet. I pressed my foot on her shoulder. She flinched, but I grabbed her chin and forced my fingers into her mouth. Mu Sisi licked them submissively, but a darker part of me didn’t want her to enjoy it. Sometimes I pressed down on her tongue, sometimes I touched her throat—making her gag. I yanked the chain hard, forcing her to lift her head closer, half her body leaning against mine. Her legs kept squeezing together. Just as I was about to pry them open… *RING!* My alarm went off. *Hiss.* No wonder I’d been thinking about her all day—she’d invaded my dreams. I’d had a wet dream. But now wasn’t the time to dwell on that. There was a morning meeting today; the regional branch head was coming for an inspection. I turned off the video, got up, brushed my teeth, and tossed the sheets into the washer. Before leaving, I fed Misty, put on my shoes, and shook my head—trying to forget the dream entirely. As I walked to the elevator, I heard a door open. Just as the elevator doors were closing, a slender hand slid in to stop them. The doors reopened, and there stood Mu Sisi.

Today she wore a formal business suit. The mole under her eye looked incredibly alluring—just like the angle in my dream when I looked down at her. The thought made my body heat up again. “Good morning,” she said politely as she stepped in. “Not great.” Honestly, after that dream, I hadn’t slept well—I felt mentally drained. “What’s wrong?” “Some voice made my cat meow like she was in heat—even in her sleep.” … The elevator went dead silent. To break the awkwardness, I added casually: “Sounded a lot like your voice.” “Haha, my voice isn’t that distinctive.” “I wonder what you sound like when you scream.” … Great, silence again. We reached the first floor. She grabbed her bag and hurried out—I followed at a respectful distance. We’d be seeing each other all the time; I couldn’t keep teasing her then awkwardly bumping into her, right? Just as I considered calling out, she turned back, taking a deep breath. “I’m so sorry—it was probably me. I was exhausted yesterday and… forgot to turn off Bluetooth before falling asleep. I was just so tired.” She stumbled through the explanation, face turning red. “Fang Yan, let me make it up to you. I’ll drive you to work.” I’d been so focused on her I hadn’t noticed the sports car we’d reached. “No thanks. Traffic’s terrible this hour—I don’t want to slow you down.” “It’s fine, Fang Yan. My hours are flexible.” She opened the car door—too awkward to refuse, I got in. She looked younger than me—how could she afford such an expensive sports car? “Ready to go, Fang Yan?” Mu Sisi smiled, buckling her seatbelt. “666 Corporate Drive, Tech Park.” I gave my work address, watching the seatbelt press against her chest. Damn, she’s stacked. We didn’t talk much, but she didn’t need GPS—drove straight to my office building like she knew the way. At the office, I stared at my computer, lost in thought. Then Qiu from my team patted my shoulder. “Morning, Fang Yan!” Skinny guy, but he’s got a strong pat. “Qiu, been working out? That’s a solid pat.” I rubbed my sore shoulder. “Hehe, yeah—but not *that* kind of gym.” Qiu grinned, whispering: “Moved in with my girlfriend. She’s a sub—loves getting spanked.” Good grief—are young couples really into this stuff? His words made me think of Mu Sisi’s Bluetooth video. She’s probably a sub too. “All departments, meeting time!” The intercom blared. Everyone headed to the main conference room. Inside the conference room: “Heard the CEO’s son is back from overseas!” “A new boss?” “The CEO’s been MIA forever—rumor says he’s sick. Would he let an outsider run the company?” “True… Shhh, they’re coming!” I listened to the gossip, craning my neck to see who was coming—only to freeze.

Mu Sisi?! What was she doing here? That mole under her eye, that curvy figure—no mistake. “Hello everyone, I’m Zuo You, your new General Manager. My father has entrusted the company to me.” The young man on stage looked elite in his suit, but his neon green hair was a turn-off—total spoiled rich kid vibe. “This is my assistant, Mu Sisi.” What? She was the GM’s assistant? What a coincidence. “Please take care of me.” She bowed, and her cleavage was on full display—whispers erupted. The meeting was short. The new GM wanted to understand the company, so departmental meetings were next. “That new assistant Mu Sisi has an amazing body!” “Even I’m jealous—and I’m a woman!” “Single guys in the office are in luck!” “Please—with that look, she’s not an assistant. More like a bed warmer.” The break room women were gossiping up a storm. I held my coffee cup—needed caffeine after last night’s bad sleep. It made sense now. A young woman with a sugar daddy could definitely afford a sports car. “Fang Yan! You’re here?” They noticed me. “Liu! Just grabbing coffee. Thought I’d wait until you ladies were done.” “Fang Yan, you’re too sweet! Come in—the water’s boiling.” They pulled me inside. Our company had plenty of female employees, but turnover was insane. “Fang Yan! GM wants you in his office!” An older employee yelled from across the room. I waved goodbye, chugged my coffee, and jogged over. “Hu, rough day?” I clapped his shoulder. “Don’t ask. This new GM cut all my projects.” He wiped sweat from his brow. “Good luck—you’ll need it.” I grabbed my project files and headed to the GM’s floor, nervous as hell. The hallway was dead quiet. The assistant’s desk was empty—usually they’d announce you first. After waiting, no one showed up. I walked to the door, about to knock—when I heard sounds from inside. “GM… easy!” Was that Mu Sisi? Hard to tell. “Bitch, bite down. No noise without permission.” Oh shit—I froze. Knock or leave? Before I could decide, someone spoke behind me. “Fang Yan? What are you doing here?” Mu Sisi?! I spun around. “What are *you* doing here?”

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After losing my baby, I spiraled into a severe mental illness. My husband, Ryan, brought in the best psychologist and meticulously cared for me for over half a year. To stop being a burden to him, I diligently cooperated with my treatment. The doctor said keeping a diary would aid emotional healing, so I started writing. One day, I opened my diary, and a line of text suddenly appeared on the page. “Leave Ryan, or else…” “You’ll die a terrible death.” My first thought upon seeing these words was – My condition was worsening again. But I checked repeatedly. The words on the paper didn’t disappear. Instead, as I struggled to process it, more red text began to surface. Line after line, the diary read: “Maya, I am you, ten years from now.” “I know you might not believe any of this, but I still have to tell you.” “Ryan betrayed you long ago. Your miscarriage this time was his doing.” “Three months from now, Ryan will take you on a vacation to Bali. You’ll get pregnant again there, but that child won’t survive either.” “Eventually, your condition will worsen, and Ryan will admit you to a psychiatric hospital.” “While you’re there, Ryan will clean out your accounts and marry his mistress, starting a family with her.” “So… now, leave him.” “Don’t let yourself be trapped like this.” The handwriting was familiar, the tone too. But the content, line after line, was utterly foreign. I stood rooted to the spot, unsure how to react. Until the bedroom door pushed open, and Ryan walked in. He’d been working overtime until now, and collapsed beside me, exhausted. His gentle tone carried a hint of playful coaxing and a desire to please. “Maya, feeling any better today?” “I’ve been so busy with work lately, couldn’t come home early to be with you.” “Once I’m done with this busy period, how about I take you to Bali for a vacation?” Bali? A cold dread settled in my stomach. My gaze unconsciously darted to the diary on the table. The seed of doubt quietly took root in my heart. I slowly lowered my head, scrutinizing the man in my arms. His handsome face was etched with deep fatigue. After we lost the baby, Ryan was heartbroken too. But he was afraid of upsetting me, so he never dared to show it in front of me. Several times, I saw him secretly wiping away tears on the balcony. Yet, he’d turn around and pretend nothing was wrong, forcing a smile to comfort me. All these years, without his patience and companionship, I might not have made it this far. Ryan, who loved me so much, Ryan, who was so gentle and devoted to his family. Could he really… be cheating? The diary incident was too bizarre to comprehend. I couldn’t voice the doubt swirling in my mind. After a moment’s hesitation, I picked up his phone. The password hadn’t changed; it was still my birthday. The wallpaper hadn’t changed; it was still a picture of us from when we were eighteen. There were no social media or entertainment apps on his phone. His SnapChat list, apart from countless work messages, only had me. Everything seemed so normal, no flaws whatsoever. My racing heart calmed a little. Then, I sighed helplessly. Perhaps my condition was getting worse again. My psychologist had said that long-term use of psychiatric medication could cause auditory and visual hallucinations. It looked like I’d have to see the doctor again tomorrow. Just as I was about to put the phone back. A message tagging Ryan suddenly appeared in the WhatsApp work group. Before I could even open it. The diary on the table fell to the floor, startling Ryan awake in my arms.

Ryan was dazed for a moment, then instinctively reached for his phone. After seeing the message, he immediately got up anxiously and put on his jacket. “There’s a problem with the project at the company, I need to go back right away.” “Maya, stay safe at home. I’ll have the housekeeper come stay with you. Call me anytime if you need anything.” Ryan hurried to the door. Seeing that I still hadn’t reacted, he paused. “If… if you don’t want me to leave, I can stay with you.” In the dim light, I couldn’t clearly see Ryan’s expression. But I could distinctly feel the exhaustion in his voice. Ever since I got sick, my emotions had been unstable. Ryan ran between the company and home every day to care for me, trying every way to make me happy. The coffee table always had my favorite fruits. Piles and piles of books on psychotherapy. He was so tired his eyes were bloodshot, so exhausted he could fall asleep standing up. How could Ryan, who loved me so much, be cheating? How could Ryan, who loved me so much, even have the time to cheat? I tenderly touched his face and spoke softly. “It’s okay, you go handle your work.” “I took my medication, I’m already much better.” “I’ll cooperate with the treatment from now on and try to recover soon.” Seeing me say this, Ryan was somewhat relieved. He kissed my cheek, then left reluctantly. I wondered if it was my imagination. There seemed to be a faint, lingering perfume scent in the air. I didn’t think much of it, bending down to pick up the diary. In that short time, another line of text had appeared on it. “Go to Hillside Manor, you’ll find the answer you’re looking for.” Hillside Manor… My hand holding the diary trembled slightly. I struggled to control myself, not letting the tears fall. Hillside Manor was our marital home, bought with Ryan and my life savings. It was also the place where I lost my child. Years ago, Ryan and I were busy with our careers and it took a toll on our health. After years of trying to conceive, I finally got pregnant with this baby. I carefully carried him for eight months. Then, a single misstep, and I tumbled down the stairs. At eight months, the baby’s tiny hands and feet were fully formed. He was almost ready to open his eyes. But because of my momentary carelessness, he left this world forever. I was in agony, filled with self-blame, unable to accept any of it. I punished myself with self-harm and refusing to eat, escaping reality through memories. Ryan worried about my deteriorating state. He was afraid I would do something drastic in my grief. He sold the manor and moved me here. From then on, Hillside Manor and those memories became an unspoken taboo between us. I thought it was proof of his love for me. But the diary in front of me now suggested something else. Ryan had done this to make it easier to hide his mistress there. A complex emotion surged within me. Soon, several more lines appeared rapidly in the diary. Painful and urgent. “Maya, I know you’re hurting, but you must understand.” “Ryan doesn’t love you at all.” “He’s long been fed up with your mood swings and is cheating with his young secretary.” “Whatever meager affection you once shared has long been eroded by the passage of time.” I shook my head, no, this couldn’t be. Ryan and I had known each other since we were young, building everything from the ground up. I had saved his life, changed his destiny. He loved me; he would never betray me. I tried to close the diary, telling myself these were all hallucinations. But the words that appeared next ripped my already shattered heart completely to shreds. “Don’t blame yourself for the miscarriage; it wasn’t your fault.” “During your pregnancy, Ryan claimed he was busy with work, but in reality, he was constantly with Chloe.” “On the day of your miscarriage, they were both upstairs.” “Chloe accidentally knocked over lubricating oil, which caused you to fall and miscarry.” “While you were being rushed to the hospital, Chloe was hiding in the nursery you personally decorated.” “While you grieved and blamed yourself for the miscarriage, Ryan was spending every day with Chloe.” “And just now, the reason Ryan left in such a hurry is because he received news that Chloe is pregnant.” “They are currently at Hillside Manor, discussing how to transfer your joint marital assets.” “Maya, wake up.” “The only one who can save you from this misery is yourself.” The handwriting in the diary shifted from neat to frantic. It seemed to contain boundless desperation and helplessness. I fought back tears. But my body trembled with immense sorrow. The moon outside was hazy. That fleeting message had transformed into a gaping chasm, threatening to swallow me whole, along with the night. Had Ryan truly cheated, or was my illness worsening again? I didn’t know, I didn’t understand. Only Hillside Manor could give me an answer.

After a moment’s hesitation, I stuffed my medication and the diary into my bag. I called a cab and headed towards the place I had shared with Ryan for so many years. Along the way, my mind raced. I couldn’t resist flipping open the diary again. Through those distant memories, I searched for evidence of our past love. This diary began when Ryan and I first met. “December 30, 2015, Sunny. The first snow fell in Riverside. I found a frozen little boy on my doorstep. He said he was a scholarship student my father sponsored. His grandfather had passed away, and with no family home left, he had nowhere to go. In desperation, he came seeking his sponsor’s help. I didn’t know how to tell him. My parents were already divorced. My father had abandoned Mom and me; how could he care about the fate of a stranger? But looking into his hopeful eyes, I couldn’t bring myself to tell him the truth. I agreed to let him help out at the bakery, offering him room and board, plus enough wages to get by. They say good deeds are rewarded. I saved a little boy; I hope God will make Mom better soon.” “December 31, 2015, Sunny. Ryan is diligent and quick with his hands; with him here, I can relax a bit more. But the little boy eats so much. Our savings are almost depleted. I wonder when Mom will get better.” “February 11, 2016, Sunny. My mother’s condition worsened, and the hospital called. It was raining too hard to find a cab. I hurried to the hospital, stumbled, and broke my leg. Ryan carried me all the way to the hospital. But I still couldn’t see Mom one last time. Ryan helped me contact the funeral home and arranged for my mother’s funeral. I suddenly realized how tall he’d grown. That little boy huddled on my doorstep was now capable of handling everything.” “March 18, 2016, Sunny. College entrance exams are approaching, and Ryan’s grades are good. All the teachers at school say he’s talented and hardworking. With a little more effort, he’ll surely get into a top university. After thinking it over, I took the last of our family’s money and signed him up for advanced tutoring. I don’t know when it happened. But it felt like, in this world, there were only the two of us, relying on each other.” “March 19, 2016, Sunny. Ryan refused my money. He said I had already done enough for him. He promised to repay me well once he was capable. But truthfully, I didn’t feel like I’d done much. If it weren’t for him, I wouldn’t have survived those lonely years.” “June 23, 2016, Sunny. Ryan’s college entrance exam results came out. On the day he received his acceptance letter from a prestigious university, he confessed his feelings to me. Turns out, the gardenias in the vase, the small, unexpected gifts. None of it was accidental. Perhaps because of my father, I was always a bit slow when it came to feelings. Only now did I belatedly realize his feelings for me had deepened. But how should I respond to this love? My father’s betrayal had left me with an aversion to all men. Ryan… could he be the exception?” “July 17, 2016, We got together. I am very happy.” Long-term treatment had made my movements sluggish, and my memory was gradually fading. But this diary allowed me to rediscover lost happiness. It reminded me of those difficult yet joyful years. I was much older than Ryan, yet he was far more mature than I. It only took a year for me to find him and care for him as he grew up. But he had protected and cherished me for over a decade. I had always been grateful that fate brought us together. Looking at the happiness brimming in the lines, A long-forgotten smile bloomed on my face. But when I turned to the last page, My smile froze. On the faded, yellowed page, a few stark words were written: “Don’t believe it!” I looked up; we had arrived at our destination. The long-abandoned manor blazed with light. Ryan’s car was parked steadily at the entrance.

Blurred window shadows revealed Ryan’s silhouette. I accessed the villa’s security camera feed. I saw him and Chloe locked in a tight embrace. On his face was a smile I had never seen before. His smile was brighter than any day I had ever known. The betrayal was undeniable. But strangely, my heart felt calmer than I expected. I calmly watched Ryan and another woman chatting and laughing. Calmly watched as the red text scrawled rapidly in the diary. It told me the end we were soon to face— “The Bali trip will lead to another pregnancy.” “You’ll plan to surprise Ryan, but instead, you’ll stumble upon him at the hospital, accompanying Chloe to a prenatal appointment.” “You’ll try to confront them, but a business rival Ryan had ruined will beat you to it, lunging at Ryan with a knife, intent on killing them both.” “In the ensuing chaos, Ryan will push you forward.” “The knife meant for Ryan will pierce your body, taking away your third child.” “You’ll barely cling to life, forced to have a hysterectomy, unable to have children ever again.” “But this time, Ryan won’t care for you meticulously as before.” “Because his child with Chloe will be due soon.” “To him, you’ll have become nothing but a burden.” “He won’t even have the patience to look at you, sending you directly to a psychiatric hospital.” “Within a year, he’ll transfer all the assets and file for divorce.” “The rest of your life will be a living hell.” As the words flowed, images flashed before me. The pain I had deliberately suppressed. The past I had refused to face. All flooded from the depths of my memory. I remembered so many things. I remembered Ryan’s countless nights away from home. I remembered the faint, lingering scent of perfume on him. I remembered the tears and humiliation, the yelling and accusations of the past. I remembered Ryan pointing a finger at me after I lost the baby, sneering. “It’s just one child, what’s the big deal? Haven’t you been dramatic about it long enough?” “You’re tired, you’re wronged? Am I not sad too?” “You lost the baby because of your own carelessness, what right do you have to cry in front of me?” “If you can’t move on, go join him!” “I’m sick of looking at your pathetic, aging face!” It was his words that had pushed me to utter despair. On a night when Ryan slammed the door and left again, I slashed my wrists at home. Blood stained the bathtub red, terrifying the housekeeper. I was rushed to the hospital that night and underwent a series of diagnoses. ECT, hypnosis. High-intensity treatments and constant medication had completely erased my memories related to that encounter with death. My mind’s self-preservation mechanism led me to idealize Ryan. Gradually, my brain became confused. I forgot Ryan’s affair and betrayal. I forgot why I had become this way. I forgot all my pain and resentment. I only remembered, long, long ago. Those long-lost, loving memories. Now, the lost memories returned to my mind. My future self, seething with bitter resentment, had shown me the end that awaited. I couldn’t escape. I couldn’t bear to remember. I wrote furiously, each word an agonizing plea, asking. “What should I do?” What could I do to escape that painful past? What could I do to avoid that desolate end? The world was vast, but I was utterly alone. What on earth… should I do? Tears streamed down my face, wetting the diary in front of me. Just before I completely broke down. Maya, ten years from now, gave me the answer.

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My name is Liu Xuan, and my girlfriend and I had been in a long-distance relationship for a while. One night, we were on a video call, as usual, to relieve some tension. After everything was done, I realized my headphones had died ages ago. Qing Qing’s voice had been playing on speaker the whole time. I’d always assumed my roommate was just another regular guy like me, a slob perhaps. But I was wrong… she turned out to be a stunning young woman. It was a silent night. I lay on my bed, Qing Qing’s frequent moans echoing in my ears. Qing Qing and I were in a long-distance relationship. With our demanding jobs, sometimes we wouldn’t see each other for months. Since she became sexually active, Qing Qing had a high sex drive, and I couldn’t always be there to satisfy her. So, I bought her a sex toy. She used it two or three times a week. Each time, she’d video call me before starting. I’d watch her face slowly flush, sweat glistening on her skin, and in less than five minutes, she’d start to twitch and tremble. Sometimes, when she was really in the zone, she’d even have to wash her soaked sheets in the middle of the night. Tonight, she was moaning softly into my ear again. As the climax washed over her, I saw her pale feet gripping the sheets tightly on the video. “Liu Xuan, slow down, I can’t take much more.” The remote was in my hand, letting me control the frequency and intensity based on her reactions. Suddenly, a smudge appeared on my phone screen. I knew exactly what she meant and turned off the remote. “Liu Xuan, I’m going to go wash the sheets.” Qing Qing’s hair was plastered to her temples, her eyes hazy, her slightly parted tongue a deep red. I’d been uncomfortable all night, and her reaction only made me more aroused, ready to burst. It was only when I took off my headphones that I realized they’d died a while ago. Had Qing Qing’s voice really been… playing out loud? If I lived alone, it wouldn’t matter. But the problem was, I lived in a shared apartment. My new roommate had only just moved in next door, and I hadn’t even met her yet. I ran a hand through my hair, planning to head to the bathroom to take care of things. I rented a two-bedroom apartment with one living room and one bathroom, which I shared with my roommate. Maybe she was busy with work, but the bathroom still had nothing of hers in it. As I got closer, I saw a light glowing from inside the bathroom. I glanced at my roommate’s door; it was tightly locked. So, it probably wasn’t her. Maybe I’d left my power bank in there earlier. Thinking this, I pressed the doorknob and pushed the door open. The sight that greeted me froze me in place. A woman was squatting on the floor, using her phone’s flashlight, struggling to express milk from her chest. Hearing the door open, she jumped, falling backward onto the floor. Her bare breasts, nipples exposed, faced me directly, still leaking milk. “Why didn’t you knock?” she scowled, glaring at me as she hastily tried to cover herself. I slammed the door shut, stunned, and could only stammer apologies. “I’m so sorry, ma’am, I saw your room door was closed, I didn’t think…” Before I could finish, her soft, sweet voice cut me off from inside. “Shut up.” Her gentle voice, laced with a sultry edge, sent shivers down my spine. This night was definitely going to be sleepless. She looked like a young mother who had just given birth. But why wasn’t she living with her husband? Why was she staying in a co-ed shared apartment?

The next morning, I squeezed onto the rush-hour subway. Just as the doors were about to close, a beautiful woman boarded and stood right in front of me. We locked eyes for a moment, then both instinctively looked away. It was my roommate! Thinking of last night’s utterly humiliating and steamy scene, I lowered my head slightly, trying to make myself as inconspicuous as possible. But the morning subway was impossibly crowded. She only came up to my neck, and the soft curve of her chest kept brushing against my stomach with every lurch of the train, igniting a fire in me. As if that wasn’t enough, my gorgeous roommate was wearing a professional miniskirt, and her smooth legs occasionally brushed against my calves, sending a tingling sensation through me. I tried to squeeze further back, but there was a large Black man standing behind me. His fierce gaze swept over me, and I didn’t dare even twitch. “Hey, roommate, maybe you could stand back a bit? I feel like I’m practically molesting you in this position.” She slowly looked up, frowned, glared at me, then turned her gaze elsewhere. Who would’ve thought that this cool, aloof woman I saw in public could have such a soft, sweet voice, dripping with that captivating charm, when she told me to shut up last night? My eyes darted around, trying to distract myself from the insistent pressure against my abdomen. Suddenly, I noticed a man furtively taking out his phone, positioning it under my roommate’s skirt. I couldn’t just stand by when I saw injustice, especially when it was my own roommate. “Excuse me!” I said, then quickly turned, shielding my roommate in my arms, my back facing the pervert. My beautiful roommate seemed oblivious to what was happening, her innocent eyes looking up at me. I leaned down, whispered into her ear, “Someone was trying to take an upskirt photo of you just now. I apologize if my actions offended you.” She flinched like a startled deer, shrinking further into my embrace. It was adorable. After we got off at our stop, I was about to say goodbye, but to my surprise, she followed me off the train. There was only one major company near this station. Could it be… my beautiful roommate worked at the same company as me? I assessed her outfit. She looked like she could be our company’s receptionist. Honestly, having a receptionist like her would definitely make coming to work more pleasant every day. We walked past the front desk, and just as I thought she’d wave goodbye, she got into the same elevator as me. “Could you press the tenth floor, please?” Her sweet voice chimed, and I nearly jumped out of my skin. Wait, the tenth floor? I was on the tenth floor too, and the tenth floor only housed the design department, no other departments. She couldn’t be the cleaner for our design department, could she? That would be such a waste of talent. I returned to my workstation and sat down. Looking back, my beautiful roommate had just walked into the Chief Designer’s office!

Considering what happened in the bathroom last night, I wondered if she was there to argue with our Chief Designer, Mr. Li. I couldn’t believe that Mr. Li, who was usually so generous with us, could be so petty with his own girlfriend. I shook my head, hoping my beautiful roommate wouldn’t expose what I saw last night. If she did, I’d probably be out of a job. Not long after, Mr. Li emerged with my roommate. He clapped his hands, signaling for us to look at him. “Everyone, I’d like to formally introduce you to someone. This is our new Chief Designer, appointed from outside the company, Jiaojiao Tu. Please welcome Chief Tu.” I couldn’t believe it. My jaw nearly hit the desk. My beautiful roommate, from this day forward, was my direct boss? Last night’s incident felt like a death sentence for me. I probably wouldn’t have a place in this company anymore. Jiaojiao, in the office, had completely shed her sweetness. Her eyes were sharp, cold, and ruthless as she scanned over us. Suddenly, her gaze landed on me. It was completely different from the look she gave me on the subway. A chill ran down my spine. “Liu Xuan, bring your design draft to my office personally in half an hour.” I wasn’t sure if it was my imagination, but the way she emphasized “personally” felt particularly pointed. After Jiaojiao went back into her office,Lu from the cubicle next to me whispered, “Liu Xuan, did you already piss off our new hot boss?” My guilty conscience made me glance at the Chief Designer’s office. Was I really being targeted by my boss because of last night’s steamy encounter? “I don’t know,” I muttered. “Why don’t you take it for me? I’m terrified.” As I spoke, I frantically dug out the design draft I’d finished last week from my computer. Thank goodness I’d completed it early, otherwise I probably would’ve been fired. Jiaojiao’s office door was ajar. After I knocked, she told me to come in. “Close the door,” she said, her voice a stark contrast to her public persona. It really threw me off. I gently closed the door, then meekly asked, “Is that really okay?” What if people started to gossip? She glanced at me while reviewing my design draft. “You talk too much.” I silently watched the woman sitting before me. She had so many secrets. A beautiful boss suddenly appointed from outside, who also happened to be my roommate? Her salary should easily cover a much better apartment. Why would she choose to live in a shared apartment? Time slowly ticked by. These few minutes felt like an execution. Throughout, Jiaojiao kept subtly touching her chest with her wrist, seemingly uncomfortable. She was wearing a shirt for work, and her post-pregnancy body had changed. The buttons on her chest were practically straining. “What’s wrong? Are you feeling unwell?” I asked with concern. Had I really touched something I shouldn’t have on the subway? The more Jiaojiao remained silent, the more anxious I became. “Did I hurt you when I turned around?” A hint of embarrassment flickered across her face, but her reply was exceptionally cold. “Mind your own business.” I pursed my lips, silently looking elsewhere. When she seemed to be done reviewing the draft, I cautiously shifted in my seat. “If there are no issues, I’ll head out now?” The moment my hand touched the doorknob, Jiaojiao called out, “Wait.” I spun around, finding her standing right behind me. If I hadn’t stopped in time, she might have kissed me. “Could you help me with something?” At that moment, she transformed back into that seductive kitten, her soft, pleading charm irresistible to any man. I’ve always been a good guy, and I figured it couldn’t be anything too difficult. I agreed without hesitation. “Chief Tu, just tell me.” “I’m still nursing, and I’m a bit uncomfortable. Pumping on my own is a little slow. Could you lend me a hand?”

Did I hear that right? Was there really such a good thing happening to me? I stood frozen, stammering, “So… should I use my hands or my mouth?” The woman in front of me looked as if she’d heard the most outrageous joke, recoiling three steps back. Her voice, still sweet and delicate, came back, “What are you talking about? I was asking if you could run an errand for me, to buy an electric breast pump.” Jiaojiao’s eyebrows were tightly furrowed, whether from physical discomfort or from being shocked by my words, I couldn’t tell. Seeing me not move, she urged me again, “Hurry up! Otherwise, I’ll send this design draft back and make you redraw it.” For a designer, that was a huge punishment. “Why me? Can’t you just call a delivery service?” I felt it was incredibly awkward for me, a grown man, to buy something like that for my boss and roommate. Her tone was tinged with annoyance. “Are you stupid? That would only make people more suspicious! Imagine how embarrassing it would be if a delivery guy spread rumors.” Without thinking, I blurted out the thought in my mind, “You’re not afraid of being embarrassed in front of me?” Jiaojiao rolled her eyes at me. “You already saw my body last night. What’s there to be shy about now?” Alright, I was convinced by her logic. I eagerly trotted off to buy what she needed. To throw people off, Jiaojiao even put on an act, seeing me off at the office door. “Liu Xuan, deliver this document to the designated location. Don’t make any mistakes.” Jiaojiao handed me a large bag. It was actually empty, meant to carry the item back later, to trick our colleagues. After I took care of all that, I returned to my workstation, panting. But images kept flashing through my mind, completely out of place. I wondered what kind of scene was unfolding in Jiaojiao’s office. Last night’s steamy visuals kept replaying in my head, impossible to shake off. After work, the atmosphere between Jiaojiao and me became even stranger at home. I finished work earlier than her, so I purposely went to the grocery store, bought plenty of food, and headed home. By the time she returned, I had already prepared a full dinner. The exhaustion on her face erased all traces of her ruthless office demeanor. She was just a delicate, small woman. She leaned against the door, taking off her high heels. Her miniskirt was already short, and as she lifted her leg, the view inside was completely exposed. I quickly glanced away, as if I’d seen something incredibly tempting, and immediately shifted my gaze. I stammered, “Chief Tu, I made some dinner. I was wondering if you’d like to join me?” Shuffling in her slippers, she walked towards me, took a casual look at the food on the table, and said, “Count me in.” “Alright!” I happily went into the kitchen to grab utensils. I figured I was one step ahead, having already ingratiated myself with Chief Tu. Jiaojiao sat across from me. During dinner, I couldn’t tell if she was just scratching an itch or what, but she kept subtly brushing against my calf. I desperately tried to shrink back, but she seemed completely unaware, following my movements. Unable to take it anymore, I grabbed her ankle. Jiaojiao let out a surprised yelp. The soft whimper made my ears burn. In my flustered state, I let go. But to my complete shock, Jiaojiao then! She brazenly placed her foot between my legs, hitting me right in the groin. “Ch… Chief Tu, you, you, you.” I desperately tried to suppress my desire, not wanting her to notice. Jiaojiao rested her chin in her hand, looking at me with intense affection, her gaze practically dripping with desire. “That night, I actually heard everything.”

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I broke up with my girlfriend of three years. Everyone thought I’d be the one crawling back, begging for forgiveness, just like always. Even Chloe thought so. Until she showed up at my doorstep, asking when I’d stop throwing a fit and come home. Instead, she saw me holding another woman. “Alex, are you done with this drama?” My girlfriend—no, my ex-girlfriend Chloe—sat on the sofa, her face etched with impatience. I looked at her impatient face, a cold smirk playing on my lips. I’d caught her slow dancing with her childhood friend, Mark, at a club. She’d claimed I was making a mountain out of a molehill. Fine, I’d show her a real mountain. She’s just a flirt, constantly leading guys on. Honestly, I’d rather not deal with her! “I told you, Mark and I are just friends, hanging out normally. You already embarrassed me in front of all our friends; what more do you want?” “Whatever, think what you want.” Her phone screen flashed, cutting off her accusations and complaints. I watched her get up and go into the bathroom, then quietly followed. Sure enough, Mark’s clear, smiling voice drifted out: “Chloe, he isn’t giving you a hard time, is he?” “Of course not!” Chloe’s voice was incredibly gentle, a kindness she never showed me. Hearing Mark’s laughter float out, I turned and started packing my things. Seriously, what a pair of unreliable individuals. Why would I ever want her back? I sent Chloe a breakup text, then blocked her. The conversation in the bathroom stopped for two seconds, then resumed as normal. Heh, she always felt so entitled, so confident around me. Couldn’t blame her. Who told me to fall madly in love with her in freshman year and willingly give her everything? All those years, washing her activewear, buying her drinks and gifts… it all felt like an ocean of effort I poured into her, but it just vanished without a trace. Now, even when I broke up with her, she still looked dismissive. Would someone who’d given so much truly be able to let her go? The laughter from the bathroom continued. I grabbed my suitcase and quietly left that cage. As soon as I got in the car, my SnapChat started blowing up. Chloe’s friends were relentlessly tagging me in the group chat. “Alex, playing the disappearing act again?” “How many times is this now?” “If you ask me, you should grow a spine. If you leave, don’t come crawling back to our Chloe next time, so you don’t ‘disappear’ again.” “Seriously, like he could ever leave our Chloe?” A wave of laughter followed, showering me with blatant humiliation. I watched coldly, quickly typed out a message, and sent it: “As you and Chloe wished, we’re done. For good.” After sending it, I left the group. That SnapChat group was made by Chloe’s friends just to mock me. They had other groups for real communication. But I knew their purpose and still joined. Just for Chloe’s occasional snippets of conversation. Later, they even added Mark to it, and Chloe’s messages increased. I’d be wildly jealous, yet like a desperate gambler, I’d frantically search through Chloe’s messages for any tiny sign that she loved me. Unfortunately, there was none. Instead, her chats with Mark grew increasingly flirtatious, and she never once considered my feelings. As my friend Liam would say, I was completely obsessed. Totally under Chloe’s spell. Now, looking back, I find my past self pretty pathetic. Chloe didn’t love me. She wasn’t gentle or considerate, let alone caring or nurturing. She’d only call me when she needed something, but when she didn’t, she wouldn’t even use my name. What was I even getting out of it? Just someone to eat, sleep, and cause trouble?

I have an old house in the suburbs, left to me by my parents. I hadn’t lived there for years, but now it was my only refuge. After showering, I saw a missed call on my phone. It was from my friend, Liam. Just as I was about to call back, Liam called again. “Alex, are you and Chloe fighting again? Why bother? You’ll just end up crying, throwing a fit, and crawling back to her anyway.” Liam’s words cut deep, each one a dagger to my heart. I stood by the window, the cold wind making me shiver. “This time it’s really over. We’re not getting back together.” Liam hesitated for a moment. “Really over? What if she comes crying to you, begging for you back?” I let out a cold laugh. “I’m not masochistic by nature. Five years. I’m finally awake.” “I don’t believe it!” Liam then changed his tune. “Unless you actually show up for our high school reunion tomorrow.” I: “…” What does that have to do with anything? Liam scoffed. “I knew you weren’t serious about breaking up.” I sighed. “…Fine, I’ll go. I promise I’ll clean up nicely and attend tomorrow, okay?!” Liam finally sounded satisfied. “There’s a surprise tomorrow!” What surprise could there be? I was exhausted and in no mood to guess. “If you keep playing coy, I’m going to bed.” Liam immediately spilled the beans. “Your goddess, Seraphina, is coming tomorrow.” The moment those three words left his mouth, my foggy mind snapped into crystal-clear focus, and my grip on the phone involuntarily tightened. Her full name was Seraphina Sterling. She was my untouchable goddess during my naive high school days, and the goddess of half the boys in our school. Excellent grades, a radiant aura, kind and generous to everyone. Liam teased, “The whole point of this reunion is to welcome her back from overseas. I asked, and she’s still single. You’re single now too. Perfect timing, isn’t it?” I walked into the bathroom, looked at my haggard reflection in the mirror, and let out a bitter laugh. “That’s all in the past.” After hanging up, I silently found a sheet mask and put it on.

When Liam saw me at the hotel entrance the next day, he circled me a few times in surprise. “Holy cow, Alex, look at you! I expected a miserable, broken mess. If I’d known a breakup would make you look this good, I would’ve told you to dump her ages ago!” I felt a little smug. “Not bad, right?” Liam clapped me on the shoulder, satisfied, and grinned as he walked into the private room. This was one of the top five-star hotels in the city. Chloe and I had eaten here before; the food was expensive and required reservations far in advance. Liam chuckled. “You still don’t know, do you? This hotel is part of the Sterling family’s empire. How else do you think our class president snagged a private room here?” Speak of the devil… Seraphina walked in, surrounded by classmates. She wore a simple yet elegant beige blazer, and a delicate pair of wire-rimmed glasses perched on her nose. Five years later, she looked more mature than before, her features even more refined and softer. As soon as I looked away, the class president chuckled and teased, “Alex, you look even sharper after a few years! Seraphina was just asking if you’d be here.” I froze, looking at Seraphina in surprise. Even though we’d sat in front and behind each other in high school, we rarely spoke. She was a golden child, and I was just an ordinary guy. Seraphina greeted me, a gentle smile on her face. “Hello, Alex. Long time no see.” Her voice was beautiful, clear and soft. My heart gave a little flutter. I smiled politely and nodded. Liam excitedly pinched my arm and whispered, “Whoa, something’s happening! Definitely something!” No way, absolutely nothing. I knew my place. A secret crush was fine, but acting on it would be inappropriate. I chose a seat near the door, keeping my distance from that dazzling group of elites. Just then, Seraphina also took a seat, two chairs away from mine. The class president chuckled, calling out to her, “Seraphina, if you sit there, where will the rest of us go? Come sit closer to the center!” Seraphina spoke softly, “We’re all classmates eating together. Putting us in a hierarchy just makes things awkward.” With that single statement, everyone settled down without further ado.

It had been years since our last high school reunion, and today was particularly lively. The last one to arrive was Noah. He’s a pretty well-known fashion influencer online now. “Wow, Noah actually made time to come to our reunion today!” Most of the classmates around the table stood up to greet him, but Seraphina remained quietly seated. After greeting everyone, Noah walked straight to the seat next to Seraphina, grinning. “Seraphina, how about we swap seats?” Seraphina smiled and moved for him. Everyone laughed and cheered, clearly used to his antics. It was no secret that Noah had a major crush on Seraphina. Seraphina simply nodded in greeting. Noah asked, “Seraphina, are you planning to develop your career back home?” Seraphina chuckled softly. “Yes, I’m taking over some family business. I’ll need all my old classmates to look out for me now.” Everyone quickly said she was too modest, as everyone else in the room combined probably wouldn’t match a fraction of her net worth. Just then, the waiter started serving the dishes. Noah immediately downed a glass of red wine, then asked with a smile, “Seraphina, I heard you’re still single. Do I stand a chance?” The blunt question immediately livened up the whole room! I was curious too. I looked up and met her gaze as she shifted her eyes. Seraphina also took a sip of wine. “Sorry, but I already have someone I like.” This news was even more surprising. Noah didn’t seem too disheartened. Instead, his smile grew even brighter. “As long as you’re not married, I still have a chance.” I somewhat envied Noah’s courage to express himself, remembering how I used to frantically pursue Chloe. I lowered my head and took a sip of red wine. It was smooth, not at all harsh. Definitely good wine. After a few rounds of drinks, everyone loosened up. A bunch of old friends I was close with came over to toast me. My face felt flushed. “No, I can’t. I’ve had enough.” I refused politely, but it probably just sounded like I was being shy. I had countless times felt awkward about this. Noah waved it off. “Oh come on, don’t be a stranger, just drink up!” Liam looked annoyed and stood up to defend me, but Seraphina was even quicker. She picked up her glass and smiled. “Alex has had quite a bit to drink already. Maybe everyone should take it easy.” “Whoa—” Lots of classmates gasped in surprise! I was completely flustered too. Liam gave me a knowing smirk and tugged my arm. “Come with me to the restroom.”

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My husband, Blake, dragged me to the tribunal. If convicted, I’d lose everything, face ten years in prison, and never be able to interfere with Blake and his beloved, Seraphina. Blake, on the other hand, would get all my assets and move in with Seraphina. If acquitted, Blake would be plagued by misfortune and disfigured. Seraphina would be permanently sterilized and forced to pay me millions in emotional damages. And I would receive a multi-million dollar settlement, plus the right to terminate our marriage contract. My relatives and friends all urged me to apologize to Blake, simply because, in their eyes, he had always been devoted and deeply in love with me—never the type to cheat. They had no idea that in my past life, I walked in on my husband and Seraphina having an affair, and they killed me for it. This time, I was going to make those two pay a hefty price! Even before I entered the tribunal, videos had already surfaced online, painting me as an abusive, selfish monster towards Blake. The so-called vigilantes online dug up my name and address, sending me threatening letters and harassing packages. They even bombarded my company with nasty phone calls, full of curses and venom, questioning how a woman like me could be so vicious, demanding why I even deserved to be married. My colleagues were dragged into it too. After work, they were attacked by a mob of haters, and a few ended up in the hospital with injuries. Under immense public pressure, Ms. Davis, my boss, had no choice but to fire me. But this job was something I had worked tirelessly for years to get, poured my heart and soul into. My closest friends knew how much it meant to me. And all of this was orchestrated by Blake, my husband of three years. Because in this world, divorce isn’t easy. I arrived at the tribunal as scheduled. At the entrance, I ran straight into Blake. He visibly flinched when he saw me. Blake probably hadn’t expected me to actually show up. Three years of marriage, two years of dating – that was enough time to know a person. Blake was certain I wouldn’t appear. He knew I loved him, he knew I was a coward when it came to pain. He was sure I’d never show up. At least, in my past life, even with all the online bullying and immense stress, I never once appeared in court. That’s right, I’d been reborn. In my past life, after I caught Blake and Seraphina in their secret affair, Seraphina directly knocked me out with a blunt object. I lay in a pool of my own blood, weakly reaching out for Blake to save me. But Blake turned, pulled out a weapon, and killed me. Then he fabricated the story that I couldn’t handle the public backlash and fled the country. Blake and Seraphina then smoothly moved in together, stealing everything from me. My parents searched for me endlessly but to no avail. Then, on a stormy night, they died in a tragic accident. It was only after I died that I learned Seraphina, Blake’s so-called friend, was actually the love of his life. They’d been having an affair for ages, plotting how to get rid of me. The public outcry was just the beginning. They acted so early only because I had stumbled upon them. My presence messed up every step of their elaborate plan. After all, in this world, the penalty for cheating is incredibly severe. Reborn, I wouldn’t be stupid enough to trust Blake again.

“Anya, please, let me go. Stop tormenting me like this. Seraphina and I are just good friends. She’s the only family I have left. Just promise you won’t lay hands on me again, and you won’t stop me from seeing Seraphina, and I’ll drop the lawsuit. I don’t want you to be punished.” Blake’s voice yanked me back from the painful memories of my death in the past life. My back was drenched in cold sweat. As soon as Blake saw me, he reacted incredibly fast. Before anyone else could even process it, he dropped to his knees, playing the part of a long-suffering husband, constantly abused by me, yet still deeply in love. In this world, the tribunal is the highest form of justice, and practically no one dares to appear. In outsiders’ eyes, if Blake was truly suffering, he’d never come here. My case was the first of its kind in fifty years, naturally causing quite a stir globally. Some media outlets, desperate for an exclusive, had set up cameras at the tribunal entrance hours ago. The moment Blake knelt, they scrambled to turn on their cameras and rushed forward. “Anya, even though I love you, forcing me to separate from my best friend is worse than death. Please, stop this madness. Let’s just go home. Just promise me, and we can go back to living a good life.” Blake, seeing that the fire wasn’t burning hot enough, continued. What a declaration of love. In my past life, if I’d seen Blake crying so hard he’d lost all composure, I would have softened. But I had crawled out of hell, and I wouldn’t fall for it again. I just stared at Blake coldly, enunciating each word. “If that’s the case, then just go die!” The crowd wasn’t just media; there were also many who had participated in the online bullying against me. They all started pointing and whispering. “Oh my god, is there really a woman like this in the world? Does a married man not deserve his own social circle?” “I heard Blake and his female friend have known each other since they were little. If there was really something between them, what would Anya have to do with it? I bet she’s just jealous that Seraphina is pretty.” “Who even marries such a selfish woman? She’s actually telling her Blake to go die. Blake must have been blind. Looks like you really need to keep your eyes open when you get married.” All sorts of vile curses echoed in my ears, but I didn’t flinch. I walked straight into the tribunal. I sat in the defendant’s chair, Blake in the plaintiff’s. His eyes were red, and when people offered comfort, he spoke with feigned anguish. “It’s not entirely Anya’s fault. Maybe she just can’t understand friendship between men and women.” “While her actions were wrong, that’s just her temper. She can’t control her emotions, and I feel really bad for her.” I almost laughed hearing those words. On the surface, Blake was defending me, but he had already cemented my guilt. The unwitting audience immediately pointed at me and cursed. “Anya, are you even human? Blake has always been so good to you, how could you lay a hand on him?” “Could it be that Anya has someone else on the side? Is that why she’s trying every trick to force Blake away?” As soon as that speculation came out, everyone present, plus the audience watching the live stream, erupted. Cheating was no small matter. Blake’s lips curled into a barely perceptible smirk, yet he still feigned pity, trying to clear my name. “How could that be? Anya isn’t that kind of person. Don’t talk nonsense. She still loves me. There’s even a tie she bought for me in the car, though it’s been used. She probably just got scammed by the store clerk.” With that bombshell, the assumption that I was cheating was immediately taken seriously by many. The comments flooded the screen. 【Poor guy, you’re the one being scammed!】 【Such a good Blake! Even now he’s defending that vicious woman. Anya, just die!】 Watching the endless stream of messages, I scoffed, but I didn’t bother to respond. “Presiding Officer, we can begin.” I looked at the stern Presiding Officer. Someone mocked me. “She’s so impatient herself! These days, whoever’s aggressive gets to speak.” The Presiding Officer banged his gavel for silence, and the proceedings began. “The plaintiff must submit evidence to prove the defendant’s guilt. No one may withdraw during the proceedings, and those who withdraw will be severely punished immediately.” I saw a flicker of panic on Blake’s face, but he still stood to present his evidence. The first segment was to accuse me of domestic violence. The big screen lit up. I glanced at the viewership—it had already reached eighty million people.

The big screen played a video from my and Blake’s home. Blake had just come out of the shower, and I was sitting on the bed, my face dark. Blake, as usual, walked up to me. “Anya, the water’s perfect temperature now. You should go shower.” But I just ignored Blake. I threw my phone on the floor. The loud crash made Blake shriek. He was only wrapped in a towel, terrified, squatting on the ground with his hands covering his head. “Bitch! Haven’t I been good to you? Why are you doing this?!” I said, stepping forward and punching the wall right next to Blake’s ear. Blood immediately beaded on my knuckles. Blake didn’t say anything, just kept crying. My emotions spiraled out of control, and I slapped Blake across the face. “A man like you doesn’t deserve to be near me. Get out!” Blake looked at me with a wronged expression, tears welling up in his eyes. But after my shouting, he didn’t even change clothes, just ran out the door. The video ended with Blake shivering in the cold wind, helplessly squatting on the ground, murmuring repeatedly. “Why won’t you believe me? I’m so scared, Anya. Please take me home?” The screen froze there. The comments section exploded. 【Hitting someone for no reason? Are abusers always so moody?】 【Even if Blake did something wrong, you shouldn’t lay hands on him, right?】 【Didn’t you notice Blake showered first so Anya wouldn’t be cold when she went in? How could Anya be so cruel as to make such a thoughtful Blake go out in the dead of winter wearing just a towel?】 【While Anya hitting him is wrong, what if Blake really did something awful that made Anya lose control?】 It was a flood of insults, all aimed at me. Any sensible voice trying to defend me was quickly drowned out by vitriol. The Presiding Officer banged his gavel. “For the first charge, domestic violence, the defendant Anya is acquitted.”

The moment the verdict was announced, the live chat went silent for a moment, then exploded with a flurry of messages. 【Domestic abuse was practically proven, yet she’s acquitted?! This has to be rigged!】 【I heard Anya has a lot of money. It’s possible she bribed the Presiding Officer on the sly.】 Facing the accusations, the Presiding Officer’s expression remained calm. He just looked at Blake and asked, “Do you have a second piece of evidence?” Blake submitted the evidence. He didn’t even dare to look at me. The second segment was to accuse me of cheating. After the outcome of the previous charge, many were outraged, but even more tuned in. The scene shifted to my car. Blake bent down to pick something up and suddenly spotted a man’s tie under the seat. He asked, bewildered, “Anya, whose tie is this?” As he spoke, Blake picked up the tie; it had obvious signs of wear. Before I could answer, Blake continued, “I don’t even wear this brand or style.” I just glanced at it, replying indifferently, “Probably a male colleague left it when a bunch of us carpooled after our last team outing. Just leave it there. I’ll ask around later when I’m free.” Blake’s eyes immediately reddened. “Call every single one of your male colleagues and ask whose it is! I don’t want you to lie to me!” I snapped impatiently, “Do you know what time it is? Can you stop being so unreasonable?” Blake turned his head away, but tears still streamed down his face. I, however, continued driving, paying him no mind. After the evidence played, the comments section filled with sarcastic comments and jeers. 【Unreasonable? I think she’s feeling guilty, aren’t you? The last time I caught my partner cheating, it was because there was another person’s stuff in the car.】 【Poor Blake. He’s been betrayed, yet he’s still putting up with it.】 Then the Presiding Officer announced again. “For the second charge, cheating, the defendant Anya is acquitted.”

This time, the live chat utterly exploded. Some cursed the Presiding Officer, others cursed me. Someone even opened a public voting channel. That’s right, if the tribunal was questioned by the audience, a public vote could be initiated. In just a few seconds, the ‘guilty’ votes already hit twenty-six percent. If it reached sixty percent, the audience could convict me without even needing the Presiding Officer. Blake shot me a defiant look. After all, it had come to this point; he didn’t need to keep up the act anymore. The Presiding Officer ignored it and continued to ask Blake for evidence. Blake puffed out his chest, submitting the final piece of evidence. This segment was from when Blake and I went on a vacation. We had booked a trip to a tropical island. But when we were about to leave, Seraphina showed up, pulling a suitcase. My face instantly fell. Seraphina smiled at me. “I’m here to take pictures for you two. Professional travel photography is so expensive these days. Anya, don’t worry, I’m paying for all my own travel expenses.” But Blake quickly refused. “Letting you take pictures for us without paying you is one thing, but making you pay for your own trip too? No way!” Then Blake squeezed my hand, “Right, Anya?” I yanked my hand away from Blake’s, snapping back, my face dark. “If you have so much money you don’t know what to do with it, why not donate it? She’s your friend, why should my money pay for her?” Blake froze. He looked at me, bewildered. “Anya, we’re a team. My friends are your friends, aren’t they?” I scoffed. “Don’t make me sick. Is there such a thing as a ‘pure’ friendship between a man and a woman?” I stomped off, leaving the two of them in an awkward silence. After the video played, the Presiding Officer still said, “For the third charge, selfishness, the defendant Anya is acquitted.” As his words fell, the voting counter on the big screen started spinning, reaching fifty-eight percent. This meant that if it went any higher, I could be convicted by the audience without even needing the Presiding Officer’s judgment. 【Who says men and women can’t be just friends? Anya’s own heart must be so dirty, she sees filth everywhere!】 【Even if they’re just friends, you should pay for someone to take your pictures, right? How can Anya be so stingy she doesn’t want to pay a dime? I hope she goes broke!】 【She can’t stand her husband having friends? Why doesn’t she just tie him to her hip? What a disgusting shrew, so petty!】 More and more people were siding with Blake. Blake was completely triumphant. He even tried to speed up the voting by directly saying to me, “Anya, I know you resent me. I’m not even going to hold it against you that you secretly bribed the Presiding Officer. All I ask for is your loyalty and love, and for you to let me have friends freely. We can still make this work.”

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To make some extra cash, I headed to the film studio to work as an extra. My build was similar to the lead actress, so the director called me over to be her stand-in. But it wasn’t until I signed the contract that I realized this was an adult film. The steep penalty clause left me with no choice but to agree. And what did I have to face? Nude scenes, wide-angle shots with extreme movements. And… Xiang Sinian. Mr. Donovan, the producer of *Whispers of the Bloom*, found me while I was lying motionless on the ground, pretending to be dead. After the director yelled ‘Cut!’, he handed me a business card. “We need a stand-in for the lead actress for one reshoot. Won’t take long—five thousand RMB. Interested?” I nodded frantically, signing the contract without hesitation, terrified that someone else might snatch this golden opportunity if I hesitated. I’d been a stand-in before. Usually, it was for falling, crashing, or getting beaten up. Compared to lying on 104-degree Fahrenheit pavement pretending to be dead all day for a measly $45, this gig sounded way better. Five thousand for a stand-in… At the time, I just figured the crew was loaded. Until Mr. Donovan led me to meet Director Reed. Director Reed circled me, eyeing me up, then nodded in satisfaction. “Take it off.” I looked at Mr. Donovan, confused. Take what off? “Bai Wei, you signed the contract yourself—it’s all in black and white. Trying to back out now?” I’d been in such a rush earlier that I completely forgot to read the contract carefully. It clearly stated “intimacy double”—the kind where you’re completely bare. There are some lines I just won’t cross, and this was definitely one of them! “I’m so sorry, Director Reed—I really didn’t read it properly earlier. I had no idea it was this kind of situation. I can’t…” “Twenty times the breach of contract fee.” “Me? Not able to do it? Absolutely impossible!” I forced a smile. “Don’t you worry—I’ll be the best stand-in you’ve ever seen!” I’m just a regular college student, only working as an extra to make some quick cash because I’m broke. Now, instead of earning anything, I’d owe a hundred thousand? That’s practically a death sentence! It’s just an intimacy double—not actual adult content! Just close my eyes, and it’ll all be over.

Director Reed handed me a script. “We’re pretty tight on time, so let’s just start. This scene is primarily the lead actress’s fantasy—big movements, let loose… Don’t be nervous, Sinian is an excellent actor; he’ll guide you.” Sinian? Xiang Sinian?! My gaze swept across everyone present, finally locking onto the man on the bed, being prepped by the makeup artist. He was looking down at the script in his hands—strong, chiseled brows, a sharp nose, slightly parted thin lips, a flawless face. My face flushed crimson, my heart pounding a frantic rhythm in my ears. I have a secret: I’m in love with Xiang Sinian. I have another secret: I’ve more than once fantasized about being tangled up with Sinian in my mind.

Director Reed brought me over to Sinian’s side. By now, the makeup artist had left, and Sinian was alone on the bed. He was shirtless, propped up on one elbow. Sinian must be incredibly disciplined. His abs were toned and firm—not overly bulky, exactly the kind young women swoon over these days. My gaze drifted lower, to two perfectly sculpted V-cut abs, their ends tantalizingly hidden beneath a blanket. The partial covering only made it more alluring. Now it wasn’t just my face—my entire body began to feel feverish. If it weren’t for the circumstances, I might even think I was sick. “Qu Lanying’s stand-in?” “That’s right—her name is Bai Wei.” Sinian smiled at me, like a ray of sunshine breaking through a snowstorm. “I might accidentally get a bit handsy when we start shooting in a moment. I apologize in advance—if you feel uncomfortable, please say something, it’s completely fine.” A wave of warmth washed over me, and I mumbled, “Mm-hmm,” looking down. Then, as per Director Reed’s instructions, I did a quick run-through. Sinian pressed me beneath him. When the face I’d imagined thousands of times in my dreams was truly inches away, I was so nervous I almost forgot to breathe. “Honey, I love you—can you trust me?” Sinian gently gripped my chin, tilting my head back. I couldn’t meet his gaze, my eyes darting downward. The blanket had shifted slightly, and I realized he was only wearing boxer briefs. His legs, straighter than any woman’s, were wrapped around mine like a snake, sending goosebumps prickling over my skin. Whether it was his natural talent or he was truly immersed in the role, I could feel a burning heat radiating from his abdomen—even through three layers of fabric. “Perfect! That’s roughly it! Lin Jiaojiao is an innocent girl, and for her first forbidden taste, it should be this mix of shyness and anticipation.” Director Reed cut in at the right moment, then added another instruction: “It’ll be a wide shot later. Sinian, just deliver your lines as usual. Bai Wei, simply show the emotion you’re feeling right now.” “When we shoot the nude intimacy scene later, make the movements more exaggerated—otherwise, they won’t show up on camera. After the kiss, just let the blanket hang halfway off the bed…” I don’t remember anything else Director Reed said because my mind was completely blank. Although I’d prepared myself to be nude, I hadn’t expected Xiang Sinian to be completely naked as well. And from what Director Reed said, there would be a kissing scene… I couldn’t tell if I was more nervous and scared or more excited. This feeling, surprisingly, mirrored the lead actress’s character.

The makeup artist had done my makeup to look about sixty percent like the original lead actress, Qu Lanying. Aurora was a well-respected actress in the industry. Normally, she wouldn’t need a stand-in for intimate scenes like this. But as luck would have it, Xiang Sinian and Qu Lanying were cousins. They’d grown up together—acting opposite each other was fine, but getting intimate and rolling around naked in bed? That was a bridge too far for them. I slowly, hesitantly, shed my clothes under the blanket, lying flat on my back like a concubine awaiting her emperor. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Sinian. A male assistant was squatting in front of him, applying prosthetic skin and tape for protection. This was standard procedure for male actors shooting explicit intimate scenes—I’d witnessed it on other sets. But after Sinian was secured, it seemed… larger than other male actors I’d seen. He walked over to me, shirtless, and got into bed. Everything was ready. Director Reed gave the command: “Clear the set! Prepare to roll!”

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