I became the queen of a tyrant, but I had a first love, and they looked alike. Everyone knew I resembled the late queen and was her replacement, but they didn’t know the tyrant also looked like the boy I had loved since childhood. However, his personality was completely different from the one I loved. The boy I loved was gentle and refined, while the tyrant often exuded a cruel and violent aura. One day, he killed my first love, not knowing that even a docile puppet could turn against him with sharp claws. 0 As I approached the entrance of the great hall, a body covered in white cloth was being carried out. A crowd of people knelt at the doorway. Inside, the man was heavily drunk, half-lying on an intricately carved dragon throne. His brows were furrowed, and his eyes tightly shut. Shards of porcelain cups and jade plates were scattered everywhere. As I stepped in, a blue and gold vase suddenly shattered at my feet, its fragments cutting my arm. I cried out in pain, clutching my hand as crimson blood flowed through my fingers and dripped onto the floor. The sight of blood on the ground made me dizzy. When I looked up, I saw the tyrant beckoning to me. “Aria, come here.” I was all too familiar with this name by now. I obediently walked over, and he stroked my head as if petting an animal. His palm was warm, but I didn’t dare let my guard down. For some reason, the hand resting on my head always made me uneasy. The next moment, pain shot through my scalp as I was forced to meet his cold, dark eyes. “Who gave you permission to wear Aria’s hairpin?” He yanked out the hairpin and looked at me coldly. Even after a year, facing those eyes still filled me with fear. They were the eyes of a lone wolf, a flash of red in the vast wilderness, locking onto you, hunting you. I knew he didn’t like to see me looking scared, so I skillfully put on the gentle smile I had practiced countless times. “Your Majesty must be drunk, no? Does your humble servant need permission from others to wear her own hairpin?” His eyes lowered, his long, thick lashes hiding his expression. After a long moment, he burst into laughter, wrapping an arm around my waist and burying his face in my chest. “Aria can wear whatever she wants, as long as she doesn’t leave me…” Aria… was his late queen. My name was also Ava, but my “Ava” meant distant. 0

“Have you also come to beg me to release those refugees?” He held my hand, his tone carrying a hint of indifference. I lowered my eyes submissively, “Your humble servant wouldn’t dare.” “My Aria would never say she wouldn’t dare.” I changed my words, “Your humble servant won’t.” His expression softened, showing satisfaction. He was pleased and waved his hand, ordering the servants outside to clean up the inner chamber of Aria’s Palace. I saw the head eunuch breathe a sigh of relief and give me a grateful look. Aria’s Palace was originally called the Royal Study, while the Queen’s chambers had been renamed Aria’s Tower. Back at Aria’s Tower, my father was already waiting for me. “Your Majesty, the Queen.” My father was the current Prime Minister. He used to dote on me, but since I became queen, he hadn’t called me Ava in a long time. “Father, have you come to see me because something has happened at court again?” My father stared at me steadily. In just a few days, he seemed to have aged ten years. Silver strands had appeared at his temples, and his eyes were filled with earnestness. He knelt before me, “I beg Your Majesty the Queen to save our people.” I didn’t move. This wasn’t the first time my father had knelt before me for the sake of the people, but I clearly remembered the first time he knelt before his own daughter was to make me enter the palace and become the tyrant’s queen. Just because my face was eighty percent similar to the late queen’s, he offered me to the tyrant. Not for family glory, but so that I could use my face, so similar to the late queen’s, to stop him when he became violent. He wanted me to whisper in the king’s ear. I admit he was a good official, but he wasn’t a good father. He bound me with familial ties and sent me to this cold palace. Enduring the love and torment brought by an unpredictable tyrant. Now, he didn’t even call me Ava anymore, always addressing me as “Your Majesty the Queen.” I lowered my eyelids, hiding the hurt in my eyes. “What has happened?” “There’s unrest in Westbrook. The leader has been captured and is to be executed tomorrow.” The king had imposed heavy taxes nationwide. I wouldn’t be surprised if the whole country rebelled. Without looking up, I picked up the embroidery I hadn’t finished yesterday and continued stitching plum blossoms. My tone was flat, “Westbrook is far from the capital. Even if the king issued an order today to spare his life, it would take at least two days to reach Westbrook from here. You can’t save him.” “What if that person is Marcus?” The familiar name entered my ears, and my fingers lost control of the needle, pricking my fingertip. A drop of blood fell on the plum blossom I had just embroidered. “Marcus has already been brought to the capital. If Your Majesty the Queen doesn’t persuade the king to stop, Marcus’s head will surely be hanging on the city wall tomorrow!” My heart clenched. I slowly put down the needle and stood up. Marcus… was the man I loved. 0

That year, I was only fourteen. I had gone with my mother to pray at a temple when we encountered bandits. All our guards were killed, and our carriage horses were spooked, galloping wildly towards a cliff. At the critical moment, it was Marcus who saved me. He was dressed in white, a graceful and spirited young man. With just one glance, my heart could no longer accommodate anyone else. I had never run so anxiously in the palace before. The king had loved the late queen so much that he had Aria’s Tower built very close. I ran through the winding corridors, dragging my long skirt, as if I had been running for a long time, out of breath. My skirt tripped me, but I didn’t care. I got up and hurried to the king’s side. Our country was called Aldoria, and the king’s name was Alaric. When I burst in, a man in blood-stained prisoner’s clothes was kneeling at the bottom of Aria’s Palace. Alaric sat lazily in the main seat. My appearance was very abrupt to them, and they all turned to look at me. My gaze swept over the man’s face, and I was momentarily stunned. It wasn’t until Alaric chuckled softly that I broke out in a cold sweat, hurriedly averting my gaze and running to Alaric’s side. Alaric gently stroked my head, “Aria thinks he looks similar too, doesn’t she?” I lowered my brows, “I was startled by the blood just now and didn’t see his face clearly.” Alaric laughed softly, twirling a lock of my hair around his finger. “If you didn’t see clearly, then go take a look.” I couldn’t fathom his intentions. I didn’t know why he wanted me to look, and perhaps in Marcus’s memory, there wasn’t even a person like me. Up close, his wounds were even more apparent. There were no less than ten injuries, large and small, with flesh turned outward, oozing blood. His white linen prisoner’s clothes were stained black and red, the original color indiscernible. I had heard that after the leader of Westbrook was captured, he still didn’t reveal his accomplices even after severe torture. I never imagined this leader would be Marcus. Marcus looked at me coldly, no longer the gentle and refined person he once was, only ice-cold. I couldn’t help but take a few steps back. At some point, Alaric had stood behind me, and I bumped into his chest. “Did he scare you?” Before I could speak, Alaric kicked Marcus hard in the chest. The kick was so forceful that Marcus coughed up a mouthful of fresh blood. “In my presence, you should retract your claws.” Marcus laughed coldly and spat out a mouthful of bloody saliva. “A foolish and cruel person, how dare you call yourself ‘we’?” The bloody saliva just happened to land on Alaric’s shoe. Alaric’s expression remained calm, but my heart began to race. “Aria.” When he called my name, my body trembled slightly.

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I Became the Cruel CEO’s Wife, But I Have a First Love Who Looks Just Like Him Everyone knows I bear a striking resemblance to Adrian’s late wife, Ava. They think I’m just her replacement. What they don’t realize is that Adrian himself looks uncannily like the boy I fell for years ago. The difference is, the boy I loved was gentle and refined. Adrian, on the other hand, often radiates a volatile, tyrannical aura. One day, he killed my first love. Little did he know that even a docile puppet can bare its claws. 0 I had barely reached the entrance of Adrian’s office when a body covered in a white sheet was carried out. A crowd of people knelt outside. Inside, Adrian was drunk, half-lying on an intricately carved chair. His brows were furrowed, eyes tightly shut. Shards of porcelain cups and jade plates littered the floor. As I stepped in, a blue and gold vase suddenly shattered at my feet, its fragments cutting my arm. I cried out in pain, clutching my hand as crimson blood seeped through my fingers and dripped onto the floor. The sight of blood on the ground made me dizzy. I looked up to see Adrian beckoning me. “Aria, come here.” I had grown all too familiar with that name. I obediently walked over. He stroked my head like one would pet an animal. His palm was warm, but I didn’t dare lower my guard. For some reason, the hand resting on my head always made me uneasy. The next moment, pain shot through my scalp as I was forced to meet his cold, dark eyes. “Who gave you permission to wear Ava’s hairpin?” He yanked out the pin and glared at me coldly. Even after a year, facing those eyes still filled me with fear. They were the eyes of a lone wolf – a flash of red in the vast desert, locking onto its prey. I knew he disliked seeing fear in my expression, so I skillfully put on the gentle smile I had practiced countless times. “My dear, you’ve had too much to drink. Do I need permission to wear my own accessories?” His eyes lowered, long thick lashes hiding his expression. After a long moment, he burst into laughter, wrapping an arm around my waist and burying his face in my chest. “Aria can wear whatever she likes, as long as she never leaves me…” Ava… that was his late wife’s name. My name is also Aria, but written with a different character meaning “distant.” 0

“Are you here to beg me to release those refugees too?” He held my hand, his tone casual and disinterested. I lowered my eyes submissively. “I wouldn’t dare.” “My Aria would never say she doesn’t dare.” I changed my words. “I won’t.” He looked pleased, his expression softening. Happy with my response, he waved his hand, ordering the staff outside to clean up his office. I saw the head butler breathe a sigh of relief, giving me a grateful look. Adrian had renamed his office “Ava’s Study,” while my quarters were now called “Ava’s Tower.” Back in my room, my father was already waiting. “Mrs. Blackwood.” My father is the company’s CFO. He used to dote on me, but since I became Adrian’s wife, it had been a long time since he called me Aria. “Father, have you come because something’s happened at the company again?” My father stared at me intently. In the few days since I’d last seen him, he seemed to have aged a decade. Silver strands sprouted at his temples, and his eyes held a pleading look. He knelt before me. “Please, ask your husband to help the people suffering from the layoffs.” I didn’t move. This wasn’t the first time my father had knelt before me for the sake of the employees. But I clearly remembered the first time he knelt before his own daughter – it was to persuade me to marry the cruel Adrian. Just because my face was 80% similar to Ava’s, he offered me to Adrian. Not for family honor, but so that I could use my resemblance to Ava to stop Adrian when he was about to do something cruel. He wanted me to influence Adrian’s decisions. I admit he’s a good executive, but he’s not a good father. He used our family bond to bind me, sending me to this cold, loveless marriage. Enduring the mix of adoration and torment that Adrian’s unstable moods brought me. Now, he doesn’t even call me Aria anymore. It’s always “Mrs. Blackwood” this and “Mrs. Blackwood” that. I lowered my eyelids, hiding the hurt in my eyes. “What’s happened?” “There’s unrest at the factory in Springfield. The leader’s been arrested and is scheduled for execution tomorrow.” With Adrian imposing such heavy workloads and pay cuts across the company, I wouldn’t be surprised if the entire workforce revolted. Without looking up, I picked up my unfinished embroidery and continued stitching a plum blossom pattern, my tone flat. “Springfield is far from here. Even if Adrian ordered a stay of execution today, it would take two days for the order to reach Springfield. You can’t save him.” “What if that person is Marcus?” The familiar name struck my ears. My fingers slipped, and the needle pricked my fingertip. A drop of blood fell onto the plum blossom I had just embroidered. “Marcus has already been brought to the city. If you don’t persuade Adrian to stop, Marcus’s head will be on display in the town square tomorrow!” My heart clenched. I slowly put down the needle and stood up. Marcus… was the boy I loved. 0

Years ago, when I was fourteen, I went with my mother to a temple. We were attacked by bandits who killed all our guards. The horses pulling our carriage panicked and bolted, nearly running off a cliff. In that moment of crisis, Marcus saved me. He wore white, cutting a dashing figure – a spirited young man. With just one glance, my heart was captured. I could never love anyone else. I had never run so frantically through the house before. Adrian had deliberately built my quarters close to his office out of his love for Ava. I ran through the winding corridors, dragging my long skirt, seemingly out of breath after running for a long time. My dress tripped me, but I paid no mind. I got up and hurried to Adrian’s side. When I burst in, a blood-stained prisoner was kneeling before Adrian, who sat lazily in his chair. My sudden appearance startled them both, and they turned to look at me. As my gaze swept over the prisoner’s face, I froze momentarily. It wasn’t until Adrian chuckled softly that I snapped out of it, hastily averting my eyes and scurrying to Adrian’s side. Adrian gently stroked my head. “Aria thinks he looks similar too, doesn’t she?” I kept my eyes lowered. “I was startled by the blood just now. I didn’t get a clear look at his face.” Adrian laughed softly, twirling a lock of my hair around his finger. “If you didn’t see clearly, go take a closer look.” I couldn’t fathom why he wanted me to look. Perhaps Marcus didn’t even remember someone like me. Up close, his injuries were even more apparent. There were at least ten wounds of varying sizes all over his body, flesh torn open and bleeding. His white prison uniform was stained black and red, the original color indiscernible. I had heard that after the leader of the Springfield uprising was captured, he endured severe torture without revealing his accomplices. I never imagined that leader would be Marcus. Marcus stared at me coldly, all traces of his former gentle demeanor gone, replaced by ice. I couldn’t help but take a few steps back, only to bump into Adrian’s chest. I hadn’t noticed him standing behind me. “Did he frighten you?” Before I could answer, Adrian kicked Marcus hard in the chest. The kick was so forceful that Marcus coughed up a mouthful of blood. “In my presence, you’d better keep your claws sheathed.” Marcus laughed coldly and spat out a mouthful of bloody saliva. “A cruel and incompetent tyrant has no right to call himself ‘I’.” The bloody spittle landed right on Adrian’s shoe. Adrian’s expression remained calm, but my heart began to race. “Aria.” When he called my name, my body trembled slightly.

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The night before Derek left for his business trip, he changed the password to our apartment’s smart lock. “Sweetheart,” he gently explained, “the building’s been having some security issues lately. It’s for your safety.” I smiled and nodded, then discreetly opened the lock’s app on my phone. It starkly displayed a newly added fingerprint entry: **[Sweetheart]**. That evening, the app pinged: **[“Sweetheart” entered the home at 10:05 PM.]** Calmly, I packed my bags, then deleted all my fingerprints and my access to the app. Later, Derek would be on his knees outside our door, hammering on that lock that would never open for him again, yelling like a madman. “Please, just give me access again! Let me see you…” But my new home assistant was now a much more loyal partner. As Derek left, the wheels of his suitcase echoed with a dull thud on the hardwood floor. He leaned down and kissed my forehead, his eyes overflowing with a tenderness that felt utterly fake. “Be a good girl at home. I’ll be back in a week, tops.” “I’ve changed the password, by the way. Made it our anniversary. You’re so forgetful, darling, this way you won’t mess it up.” I stood on my tiptoes, straightening his shirt collar, my smile saccharine and docile. “Got it. Drive safe.” The moment the door closed, the smile on my face shattered, cooling inch by agonizing inch. I was never forgetful. Our wedding anniversary? I remembered it far better than he did. Opening the smart lock management app, two stark entries lay silently in the backend history. **[Admin “Derek” changed password at 3:30 PM.]** **[Admin “Derek” registered new fingerprint at 3:31 PM, named: Sweetheart.]** Sweetheart. Those three words burned like white-hot needles, piercing into my eyes. Derek had never called *me* that. He liked to call me ‘baby’ or, sometimes, just Aurora. He’d always say it made us feel connected, yet strong as individuals. I sat on the sofa, waiting from dusk until deep into the night. The smart panel on the wall, which I had personally configured, shifted its soft lighting with the passing hours, bathing our home in a warm, peaceful glow. This sanctuary, this haven, I’d poured my heart and soul into building for us. At 10:05 PM, my phone screen lit up. The app’s notification was chillingly clear. **[“Sweetheart” entered the home using fingerprint at 10:05 PM.]** My heart constricted as if an unseen hand had gripped it, squeezing the air from my lungs. I could barely breathe. I didn’t cry. I didn’t break anything. I simply stood up, walked into the walk-in closet, and pulled out the suitcase we’d bought for our honeymoon. My clothes, my art supplies, my specialized tools for delicate ancient artwork, each one a precious investment. One by one, I carefully packed them into the suitcase. Finally, I stood in the center of the apartment I’d called home for five years, looking around. On the wall hung our wedding photo. Derek smiled brightly, holding me tightly in his arms. By the entryway, the subtle white tea diffuser he’d bought me, my absolute favorite scent. Everything was exactly as it had been when I walked out this morning, yet something profound had shattered into a million pieces. I opened the phone app and went into the admin settings. My fingertip hovered over **[Aurora’s Fingerprint]** for three agonizing seconds. Then, I tapped delete. Goodbye, Derek. Goodbye, my naïve and foolish five years.

Dragging my suitcase, I checked into a hotel two blocks from our building. I opened my laptop, effortlessly connected to the hotel Wi-Fi, and a complex programming interface spread across my screen. This was the highest-level admin backend I’d built into our smart home system for security. I could see real-time footage from every camera, hear every sound picked up by every smart speaker. I felt like a ghost, haunting the edges of my own life, invisible as I watched it unfold without me. On the living room screen, an unfamiliar girl was excitedly rolling around on *my* sofa. She wore *my* silk robe, the one Derek gave me for my birthday. “Wow, Derek! Your place is amazing! The lighting is so cozy!” The girl’s voice was syrupy sweet, with an almost childish, affected innocence. Derek’s voice drifted from the bathroom, muffled by steam. “You like it? From now on, this is your home.” *My* home. My fingers gripping the mouse turned bone-white from the force. Barefoot, the girl scampered around the floor, like a queen surveying her new territory. She picked up a rare, handcrafted ceramic mug I’d spent weeks searching for, which I kept on the coffee table. She held it up to the light, then scrunched her nose, casually setting it aside. From her own bag, she pulled out a cartoon-printed mug. “Better to use my own, you know, for comfort,” she muttered to herself. Then, she noticed our wedding photo on the wall. She walked up to it, tilting her head back, staring for a long time. I couldn’t see her expression clearly, but I distinctly heard her call out to the bathroom. “Derek, this picture isn’t flattering. It totally ages you!” “When you get back, let’s take new ones, okay?” Derek didn’t reply. A moment later, he walked out wrapped in a towel, his hair still dripping wet. He embraced the girl from behind, resting his chin on her shoulder. “Okay, anything you want.” He didn’t even glance at that wedding photo. The one he had once held, beaming like a child when we first got the prints. At 11 PM, my phone rang. It was Derek. I watched on the laptop screen as he kissed the girl’s neck, then pressed the speakerphone button on his phone. “Hey, baby,” his voice was as gentle as ever. “Did you make it to the hotel? Everything alright?” I dug my nails into my palm, forcing my voice into a calm, even tone. “Yeah, just settled in. You?” “I’m at the hotel too, just showered, about to sleep.” He lied without a flicker of remorse. On the screen, the girl, Cassie, mouthed silently to him: “I love you.” Derek’s throat worked, a tell-tale sign of his unease, and he said into the phone, “The project here is a bit complicated, might be a few days late getting back.” “Make sure you lock the door when you’re alone, okay? Stay safe.” “I love you, baby.” The call ended, and I heard him let out a long sigh of relief. He turned to the girl and said, “Done.” Then, laughing, they tumbled onto *my* bed. I closed my laptop, my stomach churning violently. So that’s it. The word ‘love,’ coming from his mouth, could be so utterly cheap.

The next day, I woke up with my eyes aching. Opening the laptop, Derek had already “left for his business trip.” Only Cassie remained in the apartment. She seemed to genuinely believe this was her home now. She rifled through my closet, trying on my clothes one by one, posing provocatively in front of the mirror. She picked up my priciest designer bag, a classic Birkin, taking selfies and captioning them: “Hardworking girls always get lucky.” Then, she sent the photo to Derek. Soon, Derek replied with a voice message. I clicked it to play aloud. “Baby, you look good in anything, but you look best in nothing at all.” His slimy, suggestive joke made me physically recoil. Cassie giggled, tossing my clothes all over the bed, then changed into her own cheap T-shirt and jeans. It was as if she was claiming her territory, marking her victory. That afternoon, she ordered takeout: spicy curry. The pungent aroma, sickeningly familiar, wafted through the speakers and assaulted my ears. I never ate those kinds of dishes. Derek knew that. He always said I had a “delicate” stomach. But now, Cassie sat at *my* dining table, using *my* favorite delicate bone china dinnerware, devouring her pungent curry. Sauce splattered, landing on the expensive solid wood table, leaving a greasy red mark. She casually wiped it with her sleeve, uncaring. Watching that blurry oil stain on the monitor, it felt like I was seeing an indelible, greasy stain on the very fabric of my marriage. That evening, Derek returned. He was carrying a large cake. “Happy birthday, baby.” Cassie shrieked in delight, throwing herself into his arms. “Derek, you remembered!” So, yesterday was her birthday. That’s why he was so eager to bring her into *my* home, right at the start of her birthday. He had turned *my* home into a birthday gift for his mistress. They lit candles and sang “Happy Birthday.” Cassie closed her eyes and made a wish. “I hope that by this time next year, I’ll be the true lady of this house.” Derek laughed, gently flicking her nose. “You will be,” he said dotingly. He didn’t deny it. He silently consented. I stared at that unfamiliar face on the screen, and a sudden realization hit me: Derek, I don’t think I ever truly knew you. He cut the cake, offering the first slice to Cassie. Cassie scooped a large dollop of frosting and smeared it on his face. They laughed and played, getting frosting everywhere. On the sofa, on the carpet, and even on *my* easel. On my easel was a Ming Dynasty ancient painting I was almost finished restoring, a cherished piece belonging to an important client. My breath hitched. I stared, rigid, at the screen. Derek noticed the frosting on the painting, and his playfulness stopped. He frowned. Cassie saw it too, and she whispered, a hint of fear in her voice, “Derek, I didn’t mean to…” Derek picked up a tissue, trying to carefully wipe away the frosting. But the cream had already seeped into the fragile paper. His attempt to clean it only spread the stain further. Frustrated, he tossed the tissue to the floor. “Forget it, just leave it.” Cassie nervously tugged on his sleeve. “But… will Aurora be mad when she comes back?” “Her?” Derek scoffed, a cold sneer on his face. “A cold, unappreciative woman, always obsessed with her stupid paintings.” “If it’s ruined, it’s ruined. I’ll just pay for it.” “For you, it’s worth any price.” He took Cassie’s hand and led her away from my studio. As if that priceless ancient painting was truly just some “worthless old artwork.” I leaned against the hotel’s cold wall, trembling uncontrollably. Unappreciative? Derek, when your startup failed, and you were blackout drunk, I stayed by your side for three days and three nights. When your father fell ill and desperately needed money, I sold the only piece of jewelry my grandmother had ever given me to cover his surgery costs. You used to say you loved watching me quietly paint, that it was the most beautiful sight in the world.

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For five years of our secret marriage, Victoria always believed I was just some down-on-his-luck guy, a gold-digger from a family that had lost everything. But she had no idea. I was Julian Hayes, the sole heir to the Hayes Group, the largest venture capital firm in the world. When she tricked me into attending a gala for her male best friend, then forced me to kneel and toast my sworn enemy, that was the breaking point. I was so furious, I shattered the champagne flute in my hand: “Victoria Caldwell, you dare make me kneel? Believe me, with one word, I could make your company vanish from the stock market tomorrow!” A flicker of panic crossed her eyes before she instantly turned, burying her face in my chest. “Oh, darling,” she cooed, “I just needed your help. I’m so sorry you had to deal with this.” Then she personally fed me a detox drink and gently escorted me to a private lounge. But when I woke up, I found myself strapped upside down on a drop tower ride. Her male best friend pressed a button, and the ride flung me dozens of feet into the air before plunging me straight into the water below. The impact left me dizzy and disoriented. I fought through the haze, forcing my hand to dial an emergency number. “Alfred, contact every major news outlet worldwide. I want to see them begging on the streets by sundown!”

The phone clicked off, and the icy pool water swallowed me whole once more. Brandon Miller covered his mouth, doubling over with laughter. Victoria, standing beside him, watched with a tolerant smile. “Victoria, did you hear that? Julian said he’s going to make you beg on the streets! Who does he think he is?” Genevieve Stone, Victoria’s rival, joined in the mocking. She pointed at me with disdain. “Is your husband completely out of his mind, Victoria?” “Contact every global media outlet? Does he think he’s the UN Secretary-General?” The surrounding guests erupted in a chorus of piercing laughter. They stared at me with eyes full of scorn, as if I were nothing more than a pathetic joke. Victoria’s face stiffened, clearly embarrassed that I was making a scene and humiliating her in front of everyone. She spoke coldly to Brandon. “Brandon, make him sober up. He needs to stop talking nonsense.” “You got it, Victoria!” Brandon excitedly pressed a red button on the control panel. The ride’s seat jerked violently, hurling me back into the sky at high speed. The zero-G sensation made my stomach churn, the mix of champagne and that detox drink from earlier making me gag. “Aah—!” My scream was swallowed by the wind. Then, the seat plummeted down even faster, slamming into the pool water with a bone-jarring impact. Massive splashes erupted, and the chlorine-scented water instantly enveloped me, making me cough violently. I was tightly strapped to the chair, unable to move, subjected to being repeatedly tossed up and down. Every plunge and ascent was a suffocating torment. I stared intently at Victoria on the shore, the woman I had loved for five years. Five years ago, my family’s company faced a crisis. My father, to protect me, publicly announced our family’s decline and sent me abroad. Overseas, I met Victoria, who was still a struggling student. I hid my identity, ate cheap takeout with her, lived in the shabbiest apartments, and backed her entrepreneurial dreams. I genuinely believed we shared a true love, enduring hardships together. When she returned home to start her company, I followed, willing to be the man behind her success. To avoid burdening her, I never mentioned my family background, not even calling my parents often. She used to hold me, crying like a child, “Julian, I swear, I’ll never let you suffer, not ever.” Her promises still echoed in my ears, yet now, she was the one personally sending me straight to hell. On the shore, Brandon pulled out his phone, frantically filming my pathetic state. “Everyone look! A drowned rat! Ha ha ha, he looks absolutely pathetic from this angle!” “Victoria, look at Julian’s face, it’s hilarious!” Victoria didn’t stop him. Instead, she handed Genevieve a bottle of champagne, a fawning smile on her face. “Genny, are you enjoying the show? My husband will do anything you want, as long as you’re pleased.” Genevieve swirled her glass with satisfaction, her eyes raking my drenched body with a light, teasing gaze. “Not bad, this is quite entertaining.” “Victoria, if you can make your husband kneel and beg me today, I’ll have my father consider investing in your project.” Victoria’s eyes instantly lit up. “No problem! Just watch, Genny!” She turned, yelling at me as I struggled in the water, her voice cold and commanding: “Julian Hayes! Do you hear me?! Hurry up and beg Genny! Kneel before her!” The icy pool water and the biting wind were nothing compared to the chill her words sent through me. I looked at her and suddenly laughed. “Victoria Caldwell, you will regret this.” “I promise you, you will pay a price worse than death for everything you’ve done today!”

My words seemed to sting Victoria’s pride. “Regret? Julian, I think you’re the one who’ll regret this!” She pointed at me, her voice dripping with disdain. “Do you think you’re still the same young master Hayes from five years ago? Your family went bankrupt long ago!” “Now, you’re just a gold-digger who relies on me to survive!” “I give you food and clothes; making you kneel is me showing you respect!” Brandon immediately chimed in, “Exactly! Julian, don’t be ungrateful!” “Victoria is the CEO of Caldwell Tech now; countless men are lining up to marry her!” “If it weren’t for her sentimental attachment, you wouldn’t even be fit to tie her shoes!” The surrounding guests also began to whisper. “Oh, so his family went broke. No wonder he’s so pathetic.” “I thought Victoria married some rich husband. Turns out he’s just dead weight.” “Serves him right, no ability and still so arrogant. He’s just asking for humiliation!” Every harsh word pierced me like a knife. I closed my eyes, took a deep breath, and forced myself to calm down. There was no point in arguing with people who were already dead. Memories flooded my mind. That winter, Victoria’s company suffered a cash flow crisis, hitting dead ends everywhere. She got drunk and collapsed in the snow. It was I who carried her home from the snow, used the living expenses I secretly earned from part-time jobs to pay her rent, and bought her warm food. She used to hold me, crying like a child, “Julian, I swear, I’ll never let you suffer, not ever.” How laughable those vows seemed now. Today, for a mere investment, she treated me like a toy, humiliating me at will. The drop tower ride continued, and my strength gradually faded. My consciousness began to blur. Each impact with the water made my head ache as if it would split open. My phone had slipped out of my pocket during my struggles and sank to the bottom of the pool. It didn’t matter. Alfred had already received the message. “Victoria, he looks like he’s about to pass out.” Brandon, seeing my unresponsive state, started to get scared. “What are you afraid of?” Victoria scoffed. “Men like him are stubborn. If we don’t teach him a lesson, he’ll never know his place!” She turned to Genevieve with a sycophantic smile. “Genny, how about we try something more exciting?” Genevieve’s interest was piqued. “Oh? Do tell.” Victoria pointed to a water slide not far away. “Let him slide down that tallest slide without a life vest.” “How’s that? Exciting enough?” My gaze instinctively darted to the slide she indicated, and a sudden shock gripped my heart. That slide was a thousand feet high, a newly installed attraction that hadn’t officially opened because it hadn’t passed safety tests. Genevieve clapped her hands excitedly. “Oh, that’s brilliant! Brilliant! I love watching handsome men get wet!” Brandon shrieked, “Victoria, you’re a genius!” With that, I was unstrapped from the drop tower and carried to the top of the highest slide. Looking at the nearly 90-degree slope, fear constantly gnawed at me. Victoria didn’t know I had a fear of heights. Sliding down from here would almost certainly kill me. She walked up and personally held the rope that bound me. I looked at her with pleading eyes. “Victoria, please, don’t let go of me.” But she simply gave me a look of disgust, then released her grip without hesitation. I slid down the chute. Since I had no protective gear, I was thrown off the slide halfway down, flying through the air. I tumbled through the air, my screams echoing, and plunged straight into the pool, creating a massive splash. This time, I felt like my internal organs had been shattered into pieces.

From the shore, Brandon’s triumphant laughter echoed. He held up his phone, recording the entire process. “Victoria, look! Julian’s expression is priceless!” Genevieve smirked playfully. “Your husband is quite entertaining, Victoria. All talk and bravado, but his body is so honest, performing acrobatics for us. I wonder if he’s as much fun in bed?” The vulgar remarks drew a round of knowing laughter from the surrounding guests. Victoria’s face showed no trace of anger. “Genny, don’t mind him.” “He’s just an immature man. I apologize on his behalf.” “As long as you’re happy today, the project…” “The project is negotiable.” Genevieve cut her off. “But this isn’t fun enough. To make me happy, it’s simple…” “Just make him drink all the water in this pool, as an apology to me.” Victoria froze for a moment. Genevieve pointed at the pool, a malicious smile on her face. “Drink one cup, and I’ll have my father invest ten thousand dollars in your company!” At these words, the entire crowd gasped, then burst into even louder laughter. Victoria’s eyes widened with wild joy. “Genny, are you serious?” “Of course. My word is my bond.” “Great!” Victoria immediately agreed, as if afraid she might change her mind. She turned to me, still struggling in the water, and yelled with an undeniable command: “Julian Hayes! Do you hear me?! Quick! Drink all the water in this pool to apologize to Genny!” Hearing her words, I felt as if I were suffocating, forgetting even to struggle. “Victoria, he doesn’t seem to be cooperating,” Brandon instigated from the side. “This won’t do; it’ll delay Genny’s show.” Victoria instantly erupted in fury, jumping into the pool and pulling me out. She gestured to two of her henchmen to hold me up, completely disregarding my weakened state. “Julian Hayes! Are you deaf?! I told you to drink!” She roared, grabbing a highball glass, scooping up some pool water, and forcing it toward my mouth. “It’s just a few cups of water, it won’t hurt you. One cup is worth ten grand, such a good deal, why are you refusing?!” “Today, you *will* drink all the water in this pool!” I looked at her exasperated face and let out a cold laugh. That only made her angrier. “What are you laughing at? You eat my food, live in my house; what’s wrong with you sacrificing a little?!” “Still dreaming of your days as a young master? Let me tell you, I’m not supporting you for free. You *will* pay for this today!” She scooped another cup, ready to force it down my throat. Just then, the amusement park manager, accompanied by several security guards, rushed over, drenched in sweat. “Mr. Hayes! Ms. Stone! What are you doing?! Stop it! Someone’s going to get killed!” The manager’s face was ashen. Victoria impatiently waved her hand. “What’s the panic? I’m just playing a game with my husband! I’ll take responsibility if anything happens!” The manager looked like he was about to cry. “Mr. Hayes, this is not a game!” “We received a notification from above, saying… saying that a distinguished guest from the Hayes Group is here with you.” “They told us to ensure his safety at all costs!” “Hayes Group?” Victoria froze for a moment, then scoffed. “You’re mistaken! There’s no distinguished guest from the Hayes Group here!” Genevieve also looked disdainful. “Hayes Group? The number one venture capital firm in the world?” “Their distinguished guest would come to a place like this? Don’t be ridiculous!” The manager, sweating profusely, pointed at me, half-conscious and half-asleep, his voice trembling: “No mistake! The person from above, he is… he is your husband!” In an instant, everyone’s smiles froze. “No, that’s impossible!” Victoria muttered to herself. “His… his family didn’t go bankrupt, did they?!”

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After my sister was bullied to death, I claimed the souls of her tormentors and meticulously crafted a terrifying game for them. I set the rules: only the victor could escape. So, they eagerly snatched up blades, plunging them mercilessly into their companions’ chests. A mist of blood coated the room, and the winner strutted out, head held high. Behind him, the mangled remains slowly reassembled, re-forming. The one who’d already drawn their last breath crawled out of the blood-soaked floor, chasing after the victor. The door closed. The door opened. The tormentors met again, their bodies fresh, ready to begin a new round of slaughter. They would feel pain, they would feel death, they would be reborn, but they would never escape this horrific game. I am an Envoy of the Ghost King, traversing the realms of the living and the dead, specializing in escorting souls. Because of this authority, I could occasionally roam the mortal world. I often lingered near my sister, the one I worried about most. She hadn’t been doing well for the past two years. She spent three years of her life and countless hours studying day and night, just to step into the halls of university. But what awaited her wasn’t a bright, warm future, but cold, bloody bullying. My sister was beautiful, but sometimes, beauty alone is a death sentence. Because of her looks, a privileged jerk, Damian Thorne, set his sights on her, demanding she be his girlfriend. My sister refused. She thought such things required mutual consent. But Damian wasn’t willing to let go of an easy target. After several failed attempts to corner her, he became enraged. From then on, he launched a two-year campaign of vengeful bullying against her. They used compromising photos of her to threaten her against calling the police. My sister could only secretly confide in her university advisor, but even the advisor didn’t dare cross someone with money and power. So, clutching a final shred of hope, my sister called our parents. All she got was a chilling scolding: “Why are they *only* picking on you and not anyone else? You must be the problem!” Isolated and helpless, my sister despaired. She could only swallow her bitterness and pain, silently praying for graduation day to arrive quickly. But she would never make it.

My sister died. Her killers were her university classmates. I watched as they tied her up with ropes, strangling her until she was on the verge of suffocating, then releasing her, only to tighten the ropes again, tormenting her repeatedly. After several rounds, my sister collapsed to the ground, too weak even to beg for mercy. I saw Damian Thorne press his foot onto her face, his eyes full of contempt, as if looking at a piece of garbage. He sneered, “Dare to refuse me? You little bitch, you love to act all pure, don’t you? Go on, act! Why aren’t you saying anything now?” His accomplices, Ryan Miller and Chloe Hayes, chimed in with sneering laughter. They paid no attention to my sister, who was coughing up large mouthfuls of blood. By the time they finished their insults and laughter, she had already stopped breathing. My heart ached beyond measure, yet these animals showed not an ounce of fear or regret. Damian even spat in disgust. “Damn it! What a jinx!” They stuffed my sister into a sack, shoved it into the trunk, and drove towards the forest. As their footsteps drew closer, a deep pit, already dug, appeared in the hidden depths of the woods. It was then that I realized: everything today wasn’t an accident, but a premeditated murder! They brutally raised their shovels, smashing my sister’s face beyond recognition. They took all her belongings that could identify her, then raised their weapons to chop and cut. They threw her shattered body into the deep pit and buried it. Finally, they drove away, laughing loudly. In the distance, thunder rumbled, and rain poured down. It washed away the traces of their evil deeds but could not cleanse their filthy souls.

Countless times, when they were beating my sister and spewing venomous words, I had questioned the Ghost King. “Why can’t I just claim the souls of these demons and cast them directly into the deepest pits of hell?” The Ghost King merely replied that they hadn’t yet committed unforgivable atrocities. But now, I looked at the token that materialized in my hand and couldn’t help but laugh out loud. The abominations these animals had committed were so heinous, even the Ghost King couldn’t stand it anymore. I floated beside their car, hearing them still bragging. The two accomplices, Ryan and Chloe, were recalling the details of the crime, terrified of being brought to justice. But Damian Thorne casually dismissed their fears: “You two cowards, don’t forget my dad is the richest magnate in this state. Even if we get caught, he can get us off. What’s there to worry about?” So, that was the source of his arrogance. Did money truly mean you could disregard human life? I scoffed, lightly shaking my soul-binding bell. Under the cover of the pouring rain, a black mist gradually enveloped the speeding car. The surrounding temperature plummeted. The people inside finally realized something was terribly wrong. The car stopped. The smiles on their faces froze, and their widened eyes filled with terror. They saw ghostly hands emerge from the black mist, moving with eerie speed straight towards them. They screamed in agony, but it was just a dying struggle. The ghostly hands tore their souls from their bodies, then dragged them into the black mist, vanishing without a trace. Everything returned to calm. The car started moving again, but the three occupants stared blankly, like puppets on strings, manipulated as they drove into the distance. The tormentors thought money could fix everything, but in the world of souls, only right and wrong truly matter. All the evil deeds they had committed would be weighed on the scales. The sword of justice had long been suspended above their heads.

【Attention players, you have entered a horror game.】 【Current Dungeon: ‘Kill the Killer’】 【Number of Players: 3】 【Game Objective: ?】 As the robotic voice faded, the pitch-black room instantly lit up. On the polished floor, three people, tightly bound, writhed violently. Like three maggots. Their eyes were covered with black cloth, and their tongues were pressed tight by gags, allowing only muffled whimpers to escape. I stripped them of all their senses, leaving them there to truly feel the bone-chilling terror. Once they tired of thrashing, their tears and drool mixing to soak the floor, I casually tapped an invisible point in the air. Immediately, their restraints were released. The blinding lights made them squint for a while before they could finally force their eyes open to survey the empty, enclosed room. Damian Thorne was the first to lash out: “Who’s playing games with me! I’m telling you, my dad is the… Argh!” I didn’t want to hear him yap, so a blade materialized out of thin air, mercilessly slicing through his shouting tongue. The severed piece fell to the ground, and blood instantly gushed out. The intense pain made him writhe and howl on the floor. The other two, Ryan and Chloe, were so terrified by the sudden gore that they collapsed. A faint smell of urine wafted from beneath them, spreading throughout the room. I scoffed. Not long ago, they were laughing as they dismembered a body. Why weren’t they scared then? Indeed, a blade only hurts when it cuts *you*. Damian twitched uncontrollably from the pain, but the blade didn’t vanish. It hovered around the other two, as if examining its next prey. Ryan and Chloe trembled with fear at the eerie sight, struggling to prop themselves up and frantically banging their heads against the floor in all directions. “Who are you, great being, please, please spare us! We’ll do anything you ask!” Words of pleading spilled from their mouths. My eyes burned a little. Once, my sister had also knelt on the ground, desperately begging them to spare her. And what was the result? A cold smile played on my lips, and my mocking voice echoed through the room: “Is that so? You’ll do anything?” As I spoke, the blade seemed to come alive, flying to hover near Ryan and Chloe before dropping to the floor. “Then kill him. Let me see your sincerity.” I watched them stare disbelievingly at the weapon. One of them, Ryan, asked tremblingly, “But, murder is against the law…” I laughed out loud. “Is it? Hmm, I suppose it is. Well then, since you’re so law-abiding, you can just die with him!” A sharp voice rang out, directing the weapon. It instantly pointed its tip at the two of them, as if it would plunge down any second. Ryan and Chloe were paralyzed with fear. They scrambled backward, hands and feet flailing, quickly begging for mercy: “No, no, no! We’ll do it! We’ll listen to you!” The blade dropped to the floor again, emitting a sharp clang. “Alright. But opportunities are rare. Only one of you two can leave alive. How about a little competition?” Dominated by the fear of death, the “close allies” from moments ago instantly turned on each other, scrambling to grab the blade. In nature, it’s not uncommon for creatures of the same species to kill each other over territory, mates, and so on. Humans, naturally, can’t escape this instinct, only we’re bound by various restraints. But now, under the shadow of death, they bared their true fangs. Unfortunately, these two were a man and a woman, and the man’s strength was clearly superior to the woman’s. After he brutally kicked Chloe in the head several times, she lay on the ground, bleeding profusely, unable to get up. She could only stare with bloodshot eyes as Ryan picked up the blade and slowly walked towards Damian. At this point, the fear of death had overcome the pain. Damian propped himself up with his hands, inching backward. Without his tongue, he couldn’t speak, only shook his head frantically, his eyes full of pleading. But Ryan clearly had no intention of letting him go. He cornered Damian against the wall, leaving him nowhere to retreat. Then, he raised the blade and plunged it forcefully into Damian’s throat. Blood gushed out, soaking Ryan’s clothes. Damian clutched his neck, collapsing to the floor, making indistinct gurgling sounds. But soon, he fell silent. Only his eyes remained fixed on Ryan, filled with resentment and defiance. Ryan couldn’t bear to look at him, muttering, “Damian, don’t blame me, I just wanted to survive!” As if that could soothe his conscience. “Great one, almighty one, I… I killed him. Please let me go!” He threw away the weapon, loudly begging me to fulfill my promise. But this was my domain. All rules were set by me. “Oh? I seem to recall saying that only one person could leave alive today, didn’t I?”

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My boyfriend’s sister cursed me with an empathic link to a rag doll. She’d deliberately dunk the doll in water, making me feel like I was being drenched, then spread rumors about my chaotic private life, ruining my reputation. Next, she’d toss the doll into a bathtub full of water, and I’d instantly feel dragged underwater, gasping for air, my chest heavy, my whole body ready to explode. Because of her twisted games, I lost a critical client for the third time. I found my boyfriend, begging him to rein in his sister, the one he practically worshipped. But he just sneered, shaking his head. “You say you can feel a toy’s pain? Are you out of your mind?” With that, he lit the doll on fire right in front of me. He stared at me, his face full of scorn. “It’s burned to ashes. How are you still standing here? What a pathetic act.” The pain made my nails dig into my palms, snapping one clean off. Yet, a wave of relief washed over me—she hadn’t won. I wasn’t dead. But in the middle of the night, that familiar suffocating feeling returned. I drowned in my dream, suffocated to death. When I opened my eyes again, I was back to that day—the exact moment the empathic link began. This time, I’d strike first. Clutching a knife, I headed straight for that malicious girl. If I was going to die anyway, I might as well drag her to hell with me.

“Skylar, Skylar!” My colleague’s shouts jolted me awake. My head was still swimming, and I looked up to see myself slumped over my office desk. I… I’m back? In my previous life, I’d somehow become bound by this “shared sensation” system to the rag doll Blake and Chloe had gotten together. That girl, Chloe, always claimed she was emotionally unstable. The moment anything bothered her, she’d take it out on the doll. She’d pinch it, throw it, dunk it in water, cut its hair—anything you could imagine. But all that pain? I was the one who suffered it. Random aches and pains were my new normal. Even worse, sometimes I’d have no idea what she was doing, yet suddenly feel soaking wet—my suit skirt always had mysterious wet spots. One project after another fell through. Clients called me unprofessional. Someone even posted on the company’s internal forum, claiming I had a chaotic private life and couldn’t control myself. When Blake heard the rumors, he stormed up to me, demanding answers. I steadied my breathing, trying to explain the empathic link. But he wouldn’t listen. He snatched the doll from Chloe’s hand, the one she never let go of, and threw it straight into the fireplace. “Skylar, I know you’re jealous of how good I am to Chloe. But you can’t invent such a ridiculous lie to hurt her.” “You say you’re connected to the doll? Well, it’s burned to ashes now. How are you still perfectly fine?” The pain left me speechless, my entire body feeling as if it had been set on fire. But inside, I sighed with relief—finally, finally free. That night, however, the familiar sensation returned. When I opened my eyes again, I was back in the past. It was the very day Chloe ruined my first big collaboration. I silently pulled open my drawer, staring at the proposal inside—a proposal I’d worked on for several sleepless nights. My eyes turned cold. “Brenda, when are our partners arriving?” My colleague glanced at the time, holding up two fingers. “Four o’clock. Two hours from now.” I nodded, quickly reviewed the proposal, and told her, “If I’m not back in two hours, don’t wait for me. Start the meeting without me.” With that, I grabbed my bag and left. Those two hours were my chance to survive. To figure out what the hell Chloe was up to, I bought a fruit knife from the supermarket. On a whim, I sent Blake a text: “Are you with Chloe right now?” He replied with a “Yup,” and I hailed a taxi straight to their place. If I could get the truth out of her, great. If not… then I wasn’t going to hell alone. The car was still about half a mile from their house when that familiar torment resurfaced. I glanced down at my phone, my heart sinking. Something was off. It wasn’t even three yet. Why was it… It shouldn’t be this early.

A familiar dampness spread through my crotch, making me feel sticky and incredibly uncomfortable. The taxi driver caught my eye in the rearview mirror, a discomforting smirk twisting his lips. “You’re in a real hurry, aren’t you, miss? Rushing to see your boyfriend?” As soon as he said that, my heart clenched, my breath catching in my throat. All the slut-shaming rumors from my previous life echoed in my ears. More than the inexplicable shared sensation, it was those baseless lies that truly broke me. Even the person I loved most had twisted his face in rage, demanding if I’d betrayed him. How do you even describe that feeling of being abandoned by the whole world? Just as I got out of the car, the dampness suddenly vanished. Before I could even sigh in relief, my stomach lurched violently, and a sharp pain ripped through me. It felt like someone was twisting my intestines, writhing in agonizing spasms. Gritting my teeth, I stumbled to Chloe and Blake’s front door and pounded on it. Chloe opened it, head down, clutching a rag doll tightly. She was gripping its head and feet, twisting it back and forth as if wringing a towel. Cold sweat poured off me from the pain. I lunged forward, snatched the doll, and straightened its limbs. My body instantly relaxed, and the pain slowly receded. “What are you doing!” Blake suddenly appeared from the corner, his face grim. He shot me a furious glare, then quickly pulled the agitated Chloe into his arms to comfort her. “It’s okay, Chloe, don’t be scared. Big brother will get your doll back.” He reached out to snatch the doll from my hand. When I didn’t let go, he suddenly raised his hand and slapped me across the face. My cheek burned, but I barely registered it. Clutching the doll tightly, my voice trembled. “Blake, please… make Chloe stop. Really, just leave me alone…” “If she keeps taking her anger out like this, I’ll actually die…” “I can’t take it anymore…” I cried out, but he remained unmoved. Blake first frowned at the trembling Chloe in his arms, then let out a laugh. “Skylar, how long are you going to keep this up?” “I get it, you don’t like me looking after Chloe. But she’s my own sister!” “Girlfriends can be replaced. A sister? You only get one!” He finished, roughly pried my fingers open, took the doll, and gently placed it in Chloe’s arms. “Chloe, don’t be scared. Your brother won’t believe that crazy woman.” I clearly saw Chloe’s lips curl into a sly, cold smile. She stared at me, then suddenly lifted the doll high and slammed it onto the ground. My body instantly felt like it was plummeting from a great height, every organ rattling out of place. Excruciating pain radiated through my limbs, yet my skin remained untouched. I struggled to open my eyes and saw her forcefully stomping on the doll’s arms and legs. “Chloe… don’t… please…” The pain was too intense for me to speak a full sentence; I could only beg in broken whispers. But hearing my pleas, she seemed to get even more excited. Perhaps she grew tired of playing, so she picked up the doll and walked over to me, swinging it back and forth. “What’s ‘sister-in-law’ muttering about? I can’t quite hear you.” “Could it be… you’re jealous of how good my brother is to me?” She watched my tormented expression like a predator fixated on its prey. “Sometimes I really envy you. To suffer so much and still be alive.” She leaned in and whispered in my ear. I shivered uncontrollably, nearly passing out. She… she knew everything! I recoiled in terror, accidentally bumping my backpack. The fruit knife inside clattered to the floor. Chloe and I both froze, our gazes snapping to the knife. I reached for it— But she was faster. She bit down hard on the doll’s arm. A sharp pain shot through my right arm, and I flinched. In that instant, she grabbed the knife first.

She slowly moved the knife back and forth across my face, as if sizing up her prey. That feeling of being watched intensely sent cold sweat dripping down my back. Before I could react, Blake was already there. His face was etched with anxiety. He took a long stride, stepping over me where I lay on the floor, and rushed straight to Chloe. First, he spoke to her in soft, soothing whispers, then gently took the fruit knife from her hand. “What if you hurt your hand! This is a real knife, so dangerous!” He said, cradling Chloe gently in his arms, not even sparing me a glance. Meanwhile, I lay on the floor, gasping for air, and he actually chuckled a few times. “Skylar, you always said this doll was you, right?” “If Chloe rips this doll to shreds, will you just… die along with it?” They were both completely insane, each more twisted than the other. Listening to them laugh together, I clenched my teeth, crawling inch by inch toward the door. There was still time before my last death. I refused to believe I couldn’t find a way to break free! By the time I reached the office, it was already four in the afternoon. Brenda saw me and immediately rushed over, grabbing my hand. “Skylar! Your proposal was amazing! The client signed on the spot and specifically requested you to lead the project!” “Everyone saw your hard work these past few days. The boss even said you’re getting a promotion and a raise this time!” Hearing that it had worked out, I finally let out a sigh of relief. Actually, ever since the day I’d been reborn, I’d started planning my escape. While I was testing Chloe, trying to figure out what the empathic link was all about, I also pushed the project forward. Sure enough, Chloe’s attention was diverted, and the project landed smoothly. As soon as I followed Brenda into the office, confetti burst from the ceiling. “Congratulations, Skylar, for landing the big deal!” “Congratulations, Skylar—” But before my colleagues could finish their congratulations, someone stared at the hem of my skirt and gasped. “Skylar, why is your skirt wet? Where did you get water on it?” My heart tightened. I looked down, and my skirt was already drenched. Immediately, that familiar cold, damp sensation spread through my entire body. I didn’t have time to explain. I grabbed my bag and rushed into the restroom. I remembered clearly: soon, Chloe would pretend to give the doll a bath and press it underwater. That feeling of suffocation had once made me completely lose control in front of a client, leaving me frozen and humiliated. Back then, my colleagues thought something was wrong with me and sent me to the hospital, but tests showed nothing. Sure enough, just as I closed the stall door, The sensation of drowning washed over me like a tide. I felt like a leaf floating in water, clutching the doorknob tightly. As if that was the only way to hold onto a shred of support. It was as if I truly became that doll; icy water poured into my mouth and nose, stinging my throat like needles. My lungs felt like they were being squeezed by a powerful hand, constantly compressed, on the verge of being crushed to dust. Just as consciousness began to fade, the doll was finally pulled out of the water. I gasped for air, coming back to life. Still breathing heavily, my phone suddenly rang. It was Chloe calling. I hung up immediately, but my head felt like it was violently pushed underwater. The suffocating sensation returned, then vanished just as quickly. The phone rang again. My eyes red, I stared at the flashing name on the screen, finally hitting answer. “Sister-in-law~” Her voice was sinister, as if coming from underground. “Did your project this afternoon… go through?”

She was convinced I’d completely humiliated myself this time. Just looking at the phone screen, I could feel her barely contained glee. I pretended to fall for it, playing along with Chloe’s words. “Are you really that hateful towards me? What do you gain by making such a mess?” “If I sign this big contract, I’ll have money to help with your illness. Wouldn’t that be better?” She let out a cold laugh, her tone chilling. “Why are you so much like me? And you stole my favorite brother… as long as you…” Perhaps she was too triumphant; her words slipped out too far. Realizing she’d let something crucial go, she immediately slammed the doll into water on the other end of the line. “If you don’t lose all your reputation, how can you be worthy of all the suffering I’ve endured over the years?” The splashing of water was the last sound I heard. Then, it was as if someone had choked me, my breath cut off, and I plunged into darkness. When I opened my eyes again, I was lying in a hospital bed, surrounded by my colleagues. Facing their worried gazes, I swallowed hard, struggling to say, “I’m fine, just too tired.” The doctor standing nearby nodded. “All the tests are normal. She probably just passed out from exhaustion.” Well, what else could I say? I couldn’t exactly tell them I drowned with a doll and actually felt myself die, could I? After my colleagues left, I lay in bed, lost in thought. Just then, Blake’s call came in. The moment I answered, he unleashed a torrent of shouts. “Skylar! Where are you? Get over here right now!” “Chloe told me everything! You provoked her, that’s why her condition worsened!” “I must have been blind! You’re actually this kind of person! Just wait, I’m going to let everyone know how hypocritical you are!” I didn’t even get a word in before he hung up. Minutes later, a colleague forwarded me a post. The title was suggestive, the content insinuating, asking in every line what kind of scandalous things I’d been up to. Even my manager called, advising me to put my current project aside and get some rest. I took a few deep breaths, my fingers trembling as I clicked on the post. Sure enough, it was Blake, posted anonymously. In his words, I became a cunning, deeply manipulative, and jealous character. Even the collaborative project I’d fought tooth and nail to secure was twisted into something I’d achieved through illicit means. Being stabbed in the back by the person I trusted most—that pain cut deeper than any knife. All the grievances from both my past and present lives welled up, and for the first time, I felt utterly useless. Tears streamed down my face, soaking my pillow. In that moment, I genuinely considered just ending it all. Anything was better than being played with like a toy by Chloe. I fumbled for the razor blade hidden under my pillow, about to act. Suddenly, my mind jolted, like being struck by lightning. I understood! Everything became clear! How Chloe had made me and her doll share sensations! I violently threw the razor blade into the trash, vowing never again to waste another second on such despicable people. I immediately called a car to a certain place. When I emerged, a cold smile played on my lips. Chloe, so this was it. I could distinctly feel the strange connection had been severed. I felt like a thousand-pound weight had been lifted, completely refreshed. Just then, Blake’s FaceTime call popped up. I let it ring, ignoring it. Only when enough time had passed did I unhurriedly tap to answer. “What do you want?” “Skylar!” He roared as if he would explode. “What did you do?! Chloe suddenly started spitting blood!”

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As a star pirate, I got caught by the Federal military. Good news: My identity is special, so they can’t just do whatever they want. Bad news: The one who caught me is my ex-boyfriend, the one I abandoned after staging my own dramatic death. Back then, I wore a disguise, seduced the Federal Academy’s untouchable ice prince, so pure and easy to trick. Before I left, I even gave him a “heart-stopping” farewell, complete with my own staged demise. Now, the cold, handsome man puts on leather gloves and taps my face. A smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes, cold and sharp. “Well, well, darling. Still alive, I see?” “All these years you’ve been gone, I’ve truly… missed you to death.” As the second-in-command of the notorious GS pirate organization, I’ve always strutted through deep space, doing whatever I pleased. But today, my luck finally ran out. While taking over a resource planet that had been forcefully occupied, the usual small-time crews, always buzzing and eager for a fight, were nowhere to be found. Instead, a colossal dark presence, hidden until now, suddenly emerged: a pure black military vessel. Its insignia blazed, clearly marking it as belonging to the Federal First Legion. The moment my unreliable uncle, Asher Reid, who was supposed to be guarding the rear, saw the warship, he let out a loud curse and bolted with the rest of our fleet. But not before shouting— “Skylar, I’ll go get the Boss to rescue you!!!” Now, in the boundless depths of space, I was utterly alone, with no one to rely on. Not all Federal Legions are out to annihilate pirates; some even have covert collaborations. Unfortunately for me, I’d stumbled right into the First Legion. Before we could even communicate, we were bundled up and shipped off to the Legion’s prison. Everyone knew that Julian Vance, the First Legion’s commander, harbored an intense hatred for pirates, especially the GS organization. Rumor had it they were responsible for the death of his beloved. Even worse news… I was that “dead” beloved. The door to the dark interrogation room hissed open, letting in a sliver of light. Footsteps approached. I raised my eyes to the man in the black military uniform. Julian Vance’s face was even colder and more handsome than before. Having not had a drop of water in ages, I licked my lips. I awkwardly raised a hand, trying to look innocent. “Hey, long time no see… Julian.”

Julian and I met at the Federal First Academy. As the only son of the GS Boss, my dad, Marcus Reid, had high hopes for me. GS had this ridiculous tradition: its heir *had* to receive a proper military education. In my dad’s words, the only reason GS maintained its top pirate status was because we all read books; we weren’t illiterate savages. I don’t know what tricks my dad pulled. He cooked up a fake identity for me and shipped me off to the First Academy. By sheer coincidence, Julian and I ended up as roommates. Initially, I planned on just coasting through a few years. But then my dad laid down the law: no graduation certificate, no ride home. If my cover got blown after too long, I was on my own. No choice then. A pampered slacker like me had to actually start studying. Turns out, some things just aren’t possible no matter how hard you try. I’d grown up among pirates. Flying a mech to raid a convoy? No problem. But making me pass a theoretical exam? That was the absolute death of me. I’m a *pirate*! Why do I need to learn math and physics? Is that even logical? Desperate, I started eyeing Julian. And found out he was surprisingly pure and easy to trick. There were two kinds of people at the First Academy. One type was me: the slacker who somehow managed to sneak in. The other type was like Julian: excelling in every assessment, a golden boy destined for greatness. Julian was obsessed with training. He’d come back to the dorm, shower, and immediately crash, focused solely on his duties. Like a robot. I knew that ever since enrollment, countless junior cadets had been secretly gossiping about him on the forums. They even rated him as the First Academy’s #1 heartthrob. But he was completely oblivious, totally wasting that drop-dead gorgeous face of his. With such a dense, goodie-two-shoes student, playing hard-to-get would be like winking at a blind man. A direct approach was the only way. One day, after he’d finished showering, I tugged on his sleeve and handed him the keys to the newest mech model. Julian looked down at me, confused, and spoke in a cool tone, “Is there something you need?” I shamelessly edged closer. Taking advantage of my deceptively innocent face, I buttered him up: “Julian, could you help me with mechanical theory? My basics are so bad, I just can’t grasp it.” He thought for a moment, then agreed. I only found out later that Julian was naturally reserved; he was never a good Samaritan eager to help. And given his status, he certainly didn’t care about the mech I’d given him. One time, I was lying with my head in his lap, reading comics, and I deliberately scratched his chin. “Julian, were you already plotting something with me back then?” Julian gave a faint smile, his earlobes turning a faint red. He gently stroked my messy hair. He didn’t deny it.

Learning from a genius made everything click. Julian’s disciplined life gained a new, unexpected element: every evening, he’d dedicate time to tutor me. Because I was so utterly clueless, Julian sometimes got incredibly frustrated. He’d frown slightly, pointing to a historical fact everyone in the Federation knew. “Skylar, didn’t you learn this in elementary school?” I’d nudge him endearingly, a lie instantly on my lips: “I grew up in a remote, war-torn slum planet. I never went to school.” He’d affectionately ruffle my hair, then tutor me even more meticulously. I thought my academy life would continue this way, peacefully. Then, one night at an academy party, we both had too much to drink. I’m not sure who initiated it, but somehow, we ended up sleeping together. Oh no, it should be: I was *slept with*. In the morning, we both sat there, clutching our blankets, staring at each other. Recalling the chaotic love lives of my pirate crew, I tentatively spoke: “Julian, how about we just pretend nothing happened and continue being friends?” “Friends?” He might have been annoyed. Julian gripped my chin, his hot breath ghosting behind my ear, his voice dangerous: “How many ‘friends’ like that do you have?” It wasn’t until he’d kissed me breathless, leaving me practically melting into the bed, that I finally surrendered: “…None. Only you!” “Then what is this?” Seeing him lean in again, I hurriedly replied: “My… boyfriend!” Best friends turned boyfriends, everything just fell into place naturally. I was so happy back then, I actually considered bringing Julian back to the GS after graduation, making him my future partner in galactic domination. I even bragged to my dad that I’d snagged an academy boyfriend. But I never expected… Julian Vance, so simple and self-reliant, was actually the sole son of a Federal High Commander.

Before graduation, Julian asked me which Legion I planned to serve in. He clearly intended to follow me. My smile almost froze on my face. Are you kidding? I’m a pirate boss’s son, I just snuck in to learn a few things. Did he really expect me to become their personal workhorse for the Federation? I told him I hadn’t decided yet, but secretly, I started planning. Julian was from a perfectly respectable lineage. Take him back to GS? Was I trying to blow up our own stronghold? How could I disappear without a trace? My dad and I brainstormed. We set our sights on the final military exercise. That simulated exercise was held in the HC173 asteroid belt near the academy. Julian and I were teamed up, each piloting our mechs, facing off against other students in pairs. The exercise was proceeding normally until my dad, Marcus Reid, leading a fleet of starships, made a spectacular entrance. I was taken hostage. Julian desperately piloted his mech, chasing after us. As we left, I stretched out my hand towards Julian, feigning “deep sorrow”— “Julian…” The next second, the silent void erupted into a spectacular, devastating explosion. No trace of me was left. My dad brazenly abducted me. From then on, the First Academy lost an unremarkable student, and GS gained a leisurely star pirate. Years passed. I became the second-in-command of GS. And he became the First Legion’s ruthless, iron-fisted Commander Vance.

The interrogation room lights were dim. Julian Vance put on leather gloves and lightly patted my face, pulling his lips into a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes, cold and sharp. “Well, well, darling. Still alive, I see?” “All these years you’ve been gone, I’ve truly… missed you to death.” The cold touch on my face, those inky black eyes were bottomless. I immediately sensed danger. Julian had become so… unsettling. “The GS has offered to negotiate.” “They’re even willing to trade resource planets for you.” “Looks like you’re quite important to them now.” “Darling, if I recall correctly, four years ago, you were supposedly blown to bits by the GS right in front of me, with no body ever found, right?” “The GS is known for its brutality. How did you survive?” Telling the truth now would be suicide; I wasn’t about to get myself into more trouble. “Hmm?” His long fingers gripped my chin, immensely pressing. Under his intense gaze, my brain worked furiously. “Julian, I had no choice.” Tears instantly welled in my eyes, making me look utterly pathetic and fragile as I gazed at Julian Vance. “Alright, tell me.” His face was calm, as if he’d believe whatever I said. I opened my mouth and let the lies flow: “I didn’t die then; they took me away. They were going to kill me. But they saw I had good physical stats and was a First Academy student, so they forced me to do their dirty work.” “My family was in their hands, so I had no choice but to comply.” The grip on my chin loosened slightly. Julian seemed half-convinced. “Family? What family?” “My father from the war-torn planet, Marcus Reid, he’s with the GS right now. You can check.” He certainly was in the GS, as the Boss. “Julian…” “I love you, but I can’t go back now.” I wiped away non-existent tears, shamelessly kissing the hand near my cheek. Julian’s eyes flickered, and he pulled his hand away. Undeterred, I pressed my face against the smooth fabric of his uniform near his stomach. “Julian, I’m so happy to see you again.” The surroundings fell silent for a moment. For a long time, Julian didn’t react, which made me vaguely uneasy. I looked up, trying to secretly gauge his expression. Looking up, the pale light spilled over his face, and he seemed oblivious to my closeness. “Skylar Reid, you’d better not be lying to me.” Julian’s expression was calm, but his words carried an implicit threat. “Otherwise, once I find out, you’re done for.” The immediate crisis was averted. I wasn’t sure if Julian believed me. But that very night, he disregarded everyone else’s objections and took me out of prison.

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When I transmigrated into this cannon fodder side character, I was pressing my cream-covered foot against the male lead’s chest, humiliating him. “Lick it clean. Swallow.” The male lead, Ryder, gripped my ankle with stubborn, hidden resentment. “Yes, Young Master.” Later, I faked my death to escape the plot, surrounded by handsome men, when Ryder suddenly appeared and locked me in a pitch-black basement. He tugged on a silver chain, grinning like a mad dog. “Young Master, lick it clean. Swallow.” I transmigrated into a novel, becoming the expendable Young Master in a dark romance revenge saga set within a powerful, wealthy family. My only purpose was to humiliate the male lead, provoke him endlessly, pile on the hatred, and eventually, end up in an urn. This moment right now? It’s one of the story’s peak scenes. I was stomping on Ryder’s rock-solid chest, forcing him to lick the cream that Julian had splattered on my foot. Ryder, the powerful and dominant one, and Julian, the delicate, clumsy submissive, were childhood friends who grew up together in the same orphanage. Years ago, my villainous father, Mr. Albright, orchestrated a scheme to frame Ryder’s father, Mr. Kincaid, and their entire family, leading to their ruin. Ryder and Julian supported each other, enduring for years. Ryder got a job as my family’s chef, while Julian became our bodyguard. Their goal? To infiltrate and take revenge on my father. But Julian wasn’t the sharpest tool in the shed; he constantly cooked up petty schemes, claiming they were to ‘get even’ for Ryder. He was never subtle enough, though, always dragging Ryder into cleaning up his messes. Undoubtedly the clueless one. Just moments ago, he’d feigned a stumble, intending to smear cake on my face. But his distance judgment was off, and it ended up on my foot instead. Ryder interceded for him. Fine, I’d make *him* lick it clean. From my perspective, this was pretty much a thrill ride. Ryder’s body was tense, his grip firm on my pale ankle. His eyes, fixed on me, were chilling. I wanted to yank my foot back, but with a slight pull, he tugged it forward again. The System’s voice buzzed in my ear: [This is it! Quick, shove your toes in his mouth!] Ugh. Talk about gross, Young Master. Even as I mentally gagged, Ryder lowered his head. A warm, tingling sensation instantly sent shivers through me. His crimson tongue slowly, meticulously lapped up the white cream from my instep, his Adam’s apple subtly bobbing. Holy cow! Why did that feel… kinda good? Just as he was about to reach my toes, I kicked him hard, sending him sprawling. “Stupid dog! You hurt me!” My soft, weak voice had a slight crack, completely devoid of any real menace. He looked up at me, a flicker of surprise in his eyes, practically screaming, “That’s it?” My own cowardice made my face flush. I blurted out, “You’re grounded from dinner tonight!” and scurried upstairs. I buried my head under the covers, clutching my face, gasping for air. The System’s voice was dripping with sarcasm: [Pathetic. This is just the beginning.] A lump formed in my throat. I rasped, [What’s the hatred value?] The System fell silent. I said ominously, [Don’t tell me it’s already high enough to get me killed.] The System let out a piercing shriek! [AAAH! WHY IS IT -10?!]

The System had gone mad. The screen filled with static and its furious shouts, making my head spin. [It has to be because you didn’t follow the plot!] [I told you to put your toes in his mouth! In his mouth! Why didn’t you?] I blinked innocently. [He might get athlete’s foot.] The System was speechless. [He’s going to tear you limb from limb soon, and you’re worried about *his* athlete’s foot?] I lazily rolled over, muttering, [Well, he hasn’t torn me limb from limb *yet*, has he?] That’s right, the Young Master’s attitude was always this chill. It’s not like I haven’t died before. In my original world, I was deader than dead. The System’s screen went black. After a long silence, it lectured me: [I have to go back to Headquarters to check if the program is glitching. Three days, tops. While I’m gone, you remember to humiliate him properly, stomp him under your foot like a dog, *destroy him*!] [Did you hear me?] I mumbled a half-hearted reply. [Yeah, yeah, got it.] [Repeat it back.] [Humiliate him! Destroy him! Demolish him… *completely*!] [Repeat it a hundred times!] The System left, seemingly satisfied. Waking up the next day, I fell into deep thought. Did the System tell me to *demolish him* last night? Did I get assigned a dominant role? In just three seconds, I convinced myself to accept this new task. Ryder hated the Albright family so much. If I *also* dominated him, wouldn’t his hatred value skyrocket? The System was a genius! But I didn’t expect Julian to start his antics again as I swaggered downstairs, feeling proud. He smiled brightly, respectfully handing me a cup of coffee. “Young Master, this is your favorite civet coffee. Please enjoy.” I stared at the unknown liquid, covered in white foam and emitting a faint, pine-like aroma, and fell silent. Seriously, dude, whose coffee smells like laundry detergent? I waved my hand, declining. “No, we struggling folks only drink the dirt-cheap brew from a discount coffee shop.” Julian looked bewildered. Ryder seemed to let out a soft chuckle. I instantly flared up. “What’s so funny? Laugh again, and I, the Young Master, will *destroy* you!” With that, I suddenly raised my foot and aimed a kick at his stomach. But I put too much force into it, and my foot slipped down an inch. Ryder let out a soft groan, then swiftly grabbed my ankle and pulled it forward. I tumbled right into his rock-solid chest, my foot wedged between his legs. He gritted his teeth, lowering his gaze. “I’m yours, Young Master. You can do anything you want with me.” My defenses completely shattered. Seriously, dude, are you a masochist?

In the bedroom, Ryder was stripped down to just his boxers, kneeling perfectly straight on the floor. His defined muscles looked even more *delicious*… I mean, *healthy*, in the warm glow of the lamp. I gripped the thin whip tightly, circling him, trying to figure out what to do. Even though I was gay in my original world, I had no idea how to do *this*. Seeing me hesitate for a while, he suddenly reached out, took the other end of the whip, and pressed it against his chest. “Young Master, hit me here.” Huh??? He was so proactive, it completely caught me off guard. But I couldn’t break character. I glared at him fiercely. “Who asked you to teach me, Young Master?” The moment the words left my mouth, I snapped the whip down hard, the force rattling my hand. Red welts instantly appeared on his tanned skin, and I could even smell a faint coppery scent of blood, but Ryder didn’t even blink. After the first time, the second was much easier. *Snap! Snap!* The sounds echoed relentlessly in the quiet bedroom. By the end, I was exhausted, sprawled on the carpet, but Ryder still maintained his original pose. His dark eyes glittered with an unusual intensity, fixed on my face. You could just tell his hatred was through the roof. Today’s task of humiliating him was complete. All that was left was to *demolish him*. But looking at his body covered in blood welts, I felt a pang of pity. I closed my eyes, waving him away. “Go back. That’s enough for today.” Better to know when to stop. I didn’t want to die before the System even returned. In my drowsy state, a warm touch suddenly brushed the back of my neck. Annoyed, I swatted at it, but my hand was abruptly caught. I twisted my head and saw Ryder looking at me with eager eyes. “Young Master, you haven’t finished with me yet.” I: “…”

Ryder was a pervert. Confirmed. Ever since I said, “Believe me, I, the Young Master, will *demolish you*!” he’d gone insane. Every day, he chased me like a dog, asking, “When?” But did he even look at his own muscular physique? Could *I* really “demolish” *him*? Demolishing Julian would be easier. But that thought only lasted a second before I dismissed it. Because in the lotus seed soup he prepared for me, I saw undissolved pills. Yet he smiled innocently, cheerfully asking me to taste if it was good. People like that are beyond help. Looking at it that way, Ryder was pretty pitiful too. I couldn’t help but glance at Ryder, who stood like a wall beside me, giving him a look of sympathy for a poor wretch. But he seemed to misunderstand, thinking I wanted him to eat my leftovers. He gulped down the lotus seed soup in my hand in three quick swigs. I shot up in surprise, trying to shove my fingers down his throat. “Are you crazy?! Spit it out!” Seeing my panic, he finally realized something. He grabbed Julian by the neck, his eyes darkening. “You drugged him?” Julian’s face turned red as he choked, shaking his head like a bobblehead, unable to utter a word. I stared at the two of them, utterly bewildered. Wait, why are they fighting each other now? Is the protagonists’ love really *that* fragile? Seeing Julian about to be strangled, I pushed my questions aside and hurriedly pulled Ryder away. Unexpectedly, the drug’s effects kicked in right then. His body was burning hot, his eyes gradually hazy. Only then did I remember the original plot: the Young Master, rushing to a friend’s appointment, took a sip and was later molested by a vagrant hired by Julian. After that, the Young Master grew even more deranged, becoming even more vicious in his torment. This fueled Ryder’s hatred, accelerating his path to death. I had to admit, Julian had the potential to be a truly malicious Young Master. Suddenly, a sharp pain in my neck broke my thoughts. Ryder was practically hanging off me, rubbing and biting, his hand already reaching under the hem of my shirt. I was furious and embarrassed, fending him off while yelling at Julian, who was sprawled on the floor. “Quick, get the antidote!” Julian’s eyes welled up with tears, and he shook his head pitifully. “There’s no, no antidote!” Seriously, was *he* the one who was wronged? Just as I was trying to figure out what to do, Ryder suddenly scooped me up and rushed towards the bedroom upstairs. By the time I regained my senses, I was already pinned to the bed, unable to move. His eyes were bloodshot. He pinned my hands above my head with one hand, while the other unbuttoned his shirt. His gaze, heavy with desire, was locked on my face. I abruptly widened my eyes and screamed at him. “You dog! What do you think you’re doing?!” He licked his crimson lips. “What do you think, Young Master? Don’t you know?”

The searing touch made my body tremble. This sudden turn of events made me instinctively call out to the System for help. But no matter how much I called, the System, which promised to return in three days max, didn’t make a peep. I finally panicked, my voice trembling as I begged him. “Ryder, I was wrong.” “I’ll never bully you again, just let me go.” But he seemed not to hear me, leisurely taking off his clothes, one by one. He took my hand and guided it over his eight-pack abs, letting it slowly explore every inch. “Hard enough?” I bit my lip, nodding ingratiatingly. His heavy breaths fell on my face, sending shivers through me. The next second, a deluge of kisses rained down. He was like a mad dog, biting and gnawing, fierce and relentless. As my consciousness faded, I thought I saw the System’s stunned physical form. The next day, when I opened my eyes, I found myself still tightly held in Ryder’s arms. The perpetual frown on his face, which had been there for twenty-four hours, finally smoothed out, his features looking much softer. But thinking about his mad dog behavior last night, I bristled, lifting my foot and kicking him off the bed. I didn’t know how bad it was until I kicked him. My face contorted, tears streaming down. Damn! My ass felt like I’d been eating ghost peppers. Ryder’s usually icy face showed a rare expression of apology and embarrassment. Before I could get angry again, he suddenly knelt on the floor, picked up the whip from beside him, and offered it to me with both hands. “Young Master, please punish me!” He looked utterly at my mercy, but was he blind? Did he think I couldn’t see the ridiculous grin splitting his face?! Suddenly, my gaze shifted to the claw marks on his chest. Raw and bleeding, they looked painful. The vivid scenes from last night flooded my mind again, and my face immediately flushed. I hastily blurted out “Get out!” and buried my face under the covers. A moment later, a dejected voice came from above me. “Young Master, aren’t you going to hit me?” My defenses completely shattered! “You utter freak! If you don’t get out now, I’ll kill that idiot Julian!” He paused, then quickly scurried away. Watching his eager retreating figure, I couldn’t help but burst into tears. You scumbag! Sleeping with me when you have a sweetheart? May that idiot Julian cuckold you for the rest of your life! I pounded the wall in anger, only to suddenly notice someone hanging on it. He smiled without warmth. “Bro, enjoying yourself again, huh?” “Who are you, handsome?” Jax really knows how to make an entrance, doesn’t he? The question is, how did he get a physical body? And he’s so handsome, only slightly less than Ryder.

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After I became the foremost Bladesmith in the spiritual world, I barely had a few days to enjoy the adoration. Then, a cataclysm struck. Most cultivators were wiped out, and the world became a desolate wasteland. The Age of Decay arrived. Even the air here turned foul, slowly devouring what little spiritual energy remained in this ravaged world. The surviving practitioners couldn’t endure such an environment and faded away, yet I still lived. Because I was a long-lived one. One by one, I bid farewell to my friends. I slung my ancient blade-box onto my back and walked the earth, gathering “resonance energy.” I sought to mend my soul blight and discover a way for spiritual energy to return. This time, I arrived at a desolate outpost. It was another rainy day, the ceaseless drizzle chilling me to the bone. With the blade-box on my back, I trudged through the mud, each step sinking deep. Suddenly, a searing, piercing pain exploded in my chest, rushing straight to my throat. I doubled over, an uncontrollable cough tearing at my throat and lungs, as if trying to rip my rattling frame apart. The icy rain seized the chance to pour down my collar, making me shiver violently. Several equally soaked, hunger-ccrazed drifters closed in, like a pack of hyenas scenting blood. They shoved me, their skeletal fingers clawing at the blade-box on my back and the threadbare, patched cloak at my waist. Guttural, meaningless sounds escaped their lips, their clouded eyes filled with nothing but primal greed. I let them push me, like a piece of decaying wood battered by wind and rain. My steps even faltered, almost sending me sprawling into the mud. The blade-box shifted gently on my back, emitting a dull “clack.” That sound made the drifters pause. A flicker of instinctive fear crossed their murky eyes. In this cursed place, anyone carrying even a bit of iron and daring to show it was either a hardened killer or a dead man. They scrutinized me – a face so pale it lacked a trace of blood, a few strands of dark hair plastered to my forehead by the rain, and that faded, patched-up old cloak. By all appearances, I looked like a destitute scholar with one foot in the grave. I merely gave them a cold glance. Just one look, and their budding greed was instantly crushed by fear. They sullenly withdrew their hands, muttering crude curses, and retreated to the shelter of a dilapidated awning by the roadside that offered meager protection from the rain. From there, they continued to stare outwards with empty, hungry eyes. I straightened up, wiping the rain and spittle from my face, my gaze sweeping forward. A broken wooden plank leaned crookedly by the road. On it, two words were scrawled in charcoal: “Tavern.” To call it a tavern was an overstatement; it was more like a makeshift shack that barely kept out the wind and rain. Pushing aside the greasy, torn thick cloth curtain, a heavier stench of stale air assaulted me. The interior was dim, a few oil lamps flickering weakly in the turbid air, casting light on equally grim faces. Several rough-looking men, their shirts unbuttoned, sat by crude wooden tables, reeking of stale earth and fresh blood. Clearly, they’d just finished their “business,” their weapons carelessly tossed at their feet. Behind the counter, a greasy-faced, corpulent man looked up, the rolls of fat on his face jiggling with the movement. He puffed on a short pipe, his beady, murky eyes scanning me from my worn blade-box to my mud-stained trousers. The disdain in his gaze was almost palpable. “Get out! You stinking beggar, you’re bad for business!” He spat out a puff of cheap smoke, his voice like a rusty gate. **Chapter 2** I stopped in the doorway, rain dripping from my hair and clothes, pooling in a small, murky puddle at my feet. A brief silence fell over the pub; even those hardened men, used to violence, cast sidelong glances my way. “A bowl of hot soup,” my voice was low, hoarse from coughing, yet strikingly clear in the quiet tavern. “I’ll pay for it.” I pulled a few copper coins from my pocket, tarnished and worn smooth at the edges, but undeniably money. I gently placed them on an empty, broken wooden table a few steps from the counter. The fat barkeeper squinted, eyeing the coins, then my expressionless, unnaturally pale face. Finally, he merely scoffed. “Wait your turn!” he grumbled, waddling his bulky frame slowly towards the greasy curtain at the back. Low murmurs resumed in the pub. The scar-faced men continued to boast about their day’s “haul,” but their eyes periodically darted my way, filled with scrutiny and a hint of almost imperceptible wariness. One of the scar-faced men, bowl in hand, sat down opposite me, slamming the earthenware bowl onto the table, splashing some cheap liquor. His gaze swept over my pale face and the blade-box on my back. “Hey, kid, you’re not from around here, are you?” I didn’t reply, simply leaned back slightly, reaching for the Jade-Blade at my waist. Only after caressing its unique material did I feel a measure of calm. I lightly patted my chest, exhaling a breath. This world’s stagnant, decaying air felt like swallowing razors with every inhale. “If you were just a common traveler passing through, that’d be one thing. But with a big box like that on your back, you’ve got plenty of ‘goods’ in there, eh?” The man reached out, intending to touch my box. I subtly shifted, avoiding his grasp, my eyes growing colder. The man seemed to grow irritated. “Don’t you know the rules, boy? Don’t you know you gotta pay passage through here?” “If you don’t have money, we can take a person instead. Silas’s crew seems to love ‘new recruits’ like you, might even earn us a nice bonus,” another man at a nearby table chimed in. The big brute, emboldened by the support, became even more arrogant, reaching out again to snatch my box. I spun around, hooked a chair with my foot, and kicked it out. “Get lost. Don’t make me say it twice.” The brute seemed not to realize that a sickly-looking person like me could suddenly unleash such strength. Unprepared, he was struck squarely by the chair. He touched his nose, and a stream of blood flowed out. “You bastard…!” The brute seemed ready to pull out a weapon to deal with me, but his movements instantly froze when his gaze met my cold eyes. He felt fear. An invisible pressure seemed to bear down on him, and the blade he’d just gripped clattered to the floor with a dull thud. After a long moment, he cursed, “Damn bad luck.” I averted my gaze. As I was picking up the chair I’d kicked, I bumped into someone. **Chapter 3** I swayed slightly from the collision, my chest churning again. The kid looked up, his hollow eyes staring at me blankly for a moment, then were seized by profound terror. A rasping, wheezing sound, like a broken bellows, escaped his throat, but not a single word. A mute? He gestured wildly, then violently whipped his head towards the doorway, as if a vengeful spirit was hot on his heels. Then, like a startled rabbit, he ignored everyone else in the pub and bolted towards the side, where a dilapidated shrine stood. He huddled amidst the accumulated junk and dust of the shrine, curling into a small ball, trembling uncontrollably. Only his hollow eyes, peering through the gaps in the debris, remained fixed on the doorway. A few men in the pub exchanged glances. One of them, a bearded man, grinned, revealing yellowed, smoke-stained teeth. “Heh, is that Finn, the mute kid? What, did Knuckles and his crew chase him again?” “What else? Couldn’t pay off his debts! His parents owed Boss Knuckles a fortune for medicine before they died. With compound interest, the kid couldn’t work it off even if he sold himself a dozen times over!” Another lanky brute interjected, a hint of schadenfreude in his tone. “Tsk, tsk, I heard Boss Knuckles is really going to sell him to the northern ‘flesh pits’ this time. They specialize in young lads like him there, easy to break, easy to control…” “Shh! Keep it down! Silas’s people are in town these days, don’t stir up trouble!” The name “Silas” had a chilling effect, instantly silencing the lanky brute, a flicker of genuine fear crossing his face. The bearded man sullenly took a gulp from his earthenware bowl of cheap liquor and said no more. The atmosphere in the pub grew heavier, more oppressive, broken only by the crackle of the oil lamps and the persistent patter of rain outside. The fat barkeeper finally emerged from behind the back curtain, carrying a murky bowl of “hot soup” with a few questionable vegetable scraps and grease slick floating on top. He slammed the earthenware bowl down onto the broken table where I’d placed the copper coins, splashing a few drops of broth onto the grimy surface. “Here! Drink up and get out!” he gruffly urged, his beady eyes darting nervously to the trembling shadow in the dilapidated shrine, then quickly away. Clearly, he wanted no part of any trouble. “Finn, hiding here won’t do any good. Just come out.” Finn didn’t answer, nor did he move. The barkeeper cursed a few times, then bothered with him no longer, retreating to the back as if to avoid association. I didn’t rush to drink the soup. My gaze passed over the barkeeper’s greasy head and landed on the shrine behind him. The mute boy, Finn, was curled there like a small, battered animal driven to desperation. Every word spoken by those men earlier had been like a poisoned needle, piercing his hollow, despairing eyes. But now, in those dark eyes, besides fear, something deeper, darker, was slowly gathering, settling. It was hatred. A blood-soaked hatred, brewed by despair for too long, now congealed and crystallized. This hatred… so pure, like raw iron forged in the fires of an abyss for eons, just waiting for a spark to unleash a furious blaze that would burn everything to ashes. A minute, almost imperceptible tremor emanated from the depths of the blade-box on my back, carrying an indescribable sense of “hunger.” It was as if a beast, slumbering for millennia, had been slightly stirred by this intense hatred, turning over in its sleep. I watched him in silence. Through the dim light, the turbid air, and the shadows of the altar, he seemed to feel my gaze. His hollow, despairing eyes, with a last trace of deadened bewilderment, met mine through the gaps in the debris. There was no plea in those eyes, no hope, only a chilling, bone-deep ash of “defiance.” I took the bowl and advanced a few steps towards the dilapidated shrine. **Chapter 4** Actually, calling it a dilapidated shrine wasn’t quite right; it was merely a circle of crumbling ruins, barely forming a shelter from the wind. A few rotten timbers leaned precariously, barely supporting some leaky roof tiles. If not for its ability to block the wind and rain, the tavern probably wouldn’t have bothered to include it in its property. The idols were long gone, leaving only half a muddy, crumbling stone pedestal, remnants of an ancient altar, covered in bird droppings and thick dust. Someone had scrawled crooked, meaningless symbols with charcoal, giving off an unsettling, almost sinister vibe. I sat against the cold, broken wall. My soaked, old cloak clung to my body. I unslung my blade-box and placed it by my feet. Slowly, I drank the not-very-tasty hot soup, but at least the warmth it provided offered some relief from the chilling pain. A faint, suppressed sob, mingled with the chattering of teeth, drifted from a deeper corner of the shrine. It was Finn, the mute boy. He had buried himself deeper behind a pile of tattered straw mats and rotting wood, revealing only half of his wet head and a pair of eyes that glowed eerily in the darkness. The hollowness and despair were gone from those eyes, replaced by a frantic vigilance and terror, like a young wolf cornered by hunters on a cliff’s edge. He stared fixedly at the shrine’s only entrance – the crooked, cracked doorframe – as if a ravenous beast would burst in at any moment. He was waiting, waiting for those who were destined to come for him. In the darkness, the subtle “hunger” in the blade-box on my back resurfaced, like a deep-sea current, slowly but persistently stirring. It seemed drawn by the boy’s imminent, explosive aura, a mix of fear and hatred. Finally, heavy, shuffling footsteps, accompanied by crude curses, pierced through the wind and rain, growing louder as they approached. “Damn this cursed weather! That mute brat’s definitely hiding in here!” “Run? You owe Knuckles and you think you can run? We’ll break his damn legs!” “Boss said, ‘bring him back alive!’ The overseer from the northern flesh pits is due tonight, waiting for his ‘shipment’!” The footsteps stopped outside the tavern. Everyone inside seemed to shy away, and the fat barkeeper chose to hide in the back kitchen, clearly wanting no part of the trouble. Three hulking figures blocked the doorway. Leading them was a burly brute with a scarred face, a missing front tooth, and a necklace of animal bones – Knuckles, the local enforcer. Behind him were two equally menacing thugs, each carrying a short club and a rope. “Heh! Mute kid, playing hide-and-seek with me?” Knuckles sneered, the gap in his teeth showing like a dark hole. His eyes, like a vulture’s, scanned the pub’s interior, instantly locking onto the trembling shadow behind the dilapidated shrine. “Get out here! Save me the trouble!” Finn recoiled violently like a startled rabbit, a rasping, meaningless sound escaping his throat. His eyes were filled with desperate terror. He clutched tightly at a tattered bundle in his arms, as if it were his last pitiful support. “Damn it, you want to do this the hard way!” Knuckles spat, waving a hand to his followers. “Drag him out! Be careful, don’t damage him too much, we’re still counting on this brat for cash!” The two thugs grinned menacingly, grabbing their clubs and ropes, and strode towards Finn’s hiding spot. Their heavy footsteps echoed through the empty, decaying shrine, carrying a brutal sense of oppression. Finn cowered, with nowhere left to retreat. His scrawny body trembled violently from extreme fear, his teeth chattering so hard they almost shattered. In his eyes, fear was rapidly swallowed by deeper despair and a dying madness. He violently bowed his head, pressing his forehead against the cold, damp ground, his shoulders shaking uncontrollably, as if silently wailing. Just as the two thugs grinned and reached out, their rough fingers about to touch his worn tunic— I moved. **Chapter 5** It wasn’t deliberate. It was as if I’d simply lost my footing, buffeted by the bone-chilling draft that swept through the shrine, or maybe I’d slipped on a patch of water leaking from the roof.

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On my wedding day, my fiancé, Liam, and his groomsmen were frantically searching for my wedding shoes. Time was ticking, and the ceremony was about to start. Everyone looked really stressed. Just then, Liam’s childhood friend, Chloe, suddenly popped out. She lifted the hem of her long, floor-length dress and said, her voice dripping with pride: “The wedding shoes are with me! I told you guys, you’d never find them, right?” “Summer, I’ll take them off for you right now. I promise you won’t miss the scheduled time.” I let out a mirthless laugh, trying to keep my anger in check. “Are you seriously asking me to wear shoes you’ve worn at my own wedding?” It was supposed to be the happiest day of my life, completely ruined by her. I just felt disgusted. But then Liam jumped in, defending her. “It’s just a pair of wedding shoes, Summer. Do you really need to make such a big deal out of it? I can just have a new pair sent over!” Seeing the impatience on his face, my throat went dry. I spoke calmly. “No, thanks. Let’s just call off the wedding.” Liam looked at me, completely taken aback. “Just because of a pair of shoes? Are you seriously overreacting?” I nodded, my voice steady. “Yes, I am.”

“Come on, ladies, don’t make it so hard on us! Just tell us where the wedding shoes are!” “Yeah, come on! We’ll even give you cash, whatever you want!” They were practically begging on their knees, trying to get us to give up the shoes. I couldn’t help but chuckle. I turned to my bridesmaids. “Alright, time’s almost up. Let’s bring out the shoes.” Everyone’s eyes immediately landed on the three bridesmaids. But they just stood there, completely still, looking at each other. It took a moment for them to react, then they all said at once: “I didn’t hide them!” “I have no idea where the wedding shoes are.” The atmosphere suddenly turned really awkward. Liam’s face grew serious. “Search again, thoroughly.” But even after searching every nook and cranny of the room, the wedding shoes were nowhere to be found. Someone cautiously asked, “Could someone have played a prank and hidden them outside?” As soon as that was said, everyone instinctively rushed outside to continue the search, without Liam even needing to say a word. But the entire house was practically turned upside down, and there was still no sign of the wedding shoes. The ceremony was about to start, and one of Liam’s groomsmen suggested, “Liam, the guests are waiting. Why don’t we head to the venue first? I’ll arrange for a new pair to be delivered.” Liam didn’t answer right away. Instead, he looked up at me. Clearly, he was asking for my opinion. I frowned, a knot of annoyance forming in my stomach. But I guess no one could have predicted something like this. So, after two seconds of hesitation, I nodded and conceded, “I guess that’s the only way.” But just then, Liam’s childhood friend, Chloe, suddenly jumped out from a corner. In front of everyone, she lifted her floor-length skirt. Her voice was proud and playful. “The wedding shoes are with me! I told you guys, you’d never find them, right?” Chloe didn’t seem to notice the sudden, chilling silence that fell over the room after she spoke. Everyone stared at her feet, their faces etched with shock. One of my bridesmaids finally pieced it together, her voice belated. “Oh, I remember now! I was about to hide them in the closet, and Chloe said she had a better spot. Then someone knocked on the door, and I didn’t pay attention to where she put them.” “I’m so sorry, Summer. I never thought she’d mess with something so important.” Then, her voice turning accusatory, she demanded, “Chloe! How could you wear Summer’s wedding shoes?” Chloe gave her an innocent look, as if she hadn’t caught the accusation in her voice. She turned to me. “Summer, I just wanted to help you hide the wedding shoes. I’ll take them off for you right now. I promise you won’t miss the scheduled time.” Looking at her face, I had no doubt. I saw the pure, unadulterated malice in her eyes. No wonder Chloe, who was usually always stirring up drama, had been so unusually quiet today. So quiet, I hadn’t even noticed her presence. She was waiting for the perfect moment to strike. I couldn’t help but let out a furious laugh. “Are you seriously asking me to wear shoes you’ve worn at my own wedding?” That one sentence was enough to make Chloe’s eyes well up. She looked at Liam, all teary-eyed and wronged. “Liam, I was just trying to be helpful. I thought you and Summer would be happy if I hid the wedding shoes perfectly.” “Besides, I’ve never been married! How was I supposed to know you can’t wear wedding shoes?” Never been married or not, you don’t just wear someone else’s shoes, especially *my* wedding shoes. I silently cursed under my breath, feeling a wave of disgust, then retorted, “Just because you’ve never been married, does that mean you have no common decency?” Then again, if she had any decency, she wouldn’t always be getting in my face like this. But what truly shocked me was that, at a time like this, Liam actually sided with her. He defended her, saying, “It’s just a pair of wedding shoes, Summer. Do you have to be so mean?” I looked up and saw him frowning, an impatient look on his face. For a split second, all the fire in me just died. Not that I wasn’t angry anymore, but suddenly, it just felt… pointless. Liam didn’t notice my change in demeanor. He casually added, “I’ll have a new pair sent over right away. Happy now?” He said it as if *I* was the one being unreasonable. I forced a tight smile. My voice was calm as I said, “No, thanks. Let’s just call off the wedding.”

My words hung in the air, and the room fell into an immediate, stunned silence. Everyone looked at me in disbelief, probably not expecting me to be so drastic. Liam even chuckled. “Summer, are you kidding me?” “You’re calling off our wedding just because of a pair of wedding shoes? Are you seriously making such a big deal out of nothing?” It was Chloe who messed things up, who ruined our wedding. But in his eyes, I was the one being petty and irrational. Liam and I had been together for a year. But before that, he’d spent three painstaking years chasing me. He was clumsy but persistent in trying to win me over, always there whenever I needed him. Even if my heart was made of stone, it would have softened. The day we finally got together, Liam was as giddy as a teenager. He hugged me, crying and saying, “You’re a treasure I worked so hard to get, I promise I’ll never let you suffer any injustice!” He kept his word. After we started dating, he was completely devoted to me. All his actions revolved around my happiness. So, even though we hadn’t been together for long. When he proposed, I said yes. But then, during the wedding preparations, this so-called “childhood friend” of his appeared. From that moment on, Liam seemed to change. Whether we were on a date or having dinner, he’d drop everything and run off to Chloe whenever she called. When I got angry, he’d just give me a half-hearted excuse: “Chloe doesn’t know anyone else here, I just want to look out for her a bit.” “It’ll get better in a while.” Liam’s change in attitude was so drastic that I lost my emotional balance, constantly getting upset and fighting with him. During that time, I considered more than once whether we should actually go through with the wedding. But even the night before, I still hadn’t made up my mind. However, just now, the answer suddenly became clear. I wasn’t marrying Liam. When I didn’t respond, Liam assumed I was regretting my decision. He said, with a condescending tone, “Alright, stop messing around. If you delay any longer, we’ll actually miss the scheduled time.” “It’s just a pair of shoes, wait…” I didn’t even have the patience to hear him finish. I cut him off sharply. And answered his earlier question: “Yes, I am.” Liam didn’t expect me to be serious about this at such a crucial moment. He was stunned. But Chloe, standing next to him, started to cry again, her voice laced with false concern: “Summer, if you want to blame anyone, blame me. Don’t take your anger out on Liam. He didn’t do anything wrong.” As she spoke, she even knelt down in front of me, completely disregarding her image. She pleaded, “Summer, you can blame me however you want, but you can’t just cancel something as important as a wedding.” “Liam put so much effort into preparing for this wedding. How can you cancel last minute? Have you even considered his feelings?” “Besides, the guests are all waiting. It would be so bad if you two didn’t get married…” Chloe was pretending to be kind and persuasive, but every word she spoke was laced with accusation. But I’m stubborn. Once I make up my mind, it’s not easily changed. No one, not even the heavens themselves, could sway me. I opened my mouth, about to speak. But then Liam suddenly pulled Chloe to her feet. He looked at me with a cold expression. “Summer, I’m giving you one last chance.” “If you don’t want to make a fool of yourself right now, you’ll quietly go through with the wedding ceremony with me.” “Otherwise, you can figure out how to explain it to both our families and all the guests.” That was his way of threatening me. But Summer isn’t someone who’s easily threatened. I smiled, agreeing readily. “Fine by me!” Liam’s face turned ugly. He repeated “Fine” three times, his voice tight. Then he turned to the others. “Let’s go.” Seeing that we were serious, they hesitated, trying to say a few words to mediate. But before they could, Liam said coldly, “She’s the one who wants to cancel the wedding. If she regrets it, even if she begs me to come back, I’ll have to think about it!” He was speaking to his groomsmen, but his words were clearly meant for me. I scoffed, a mocking smile on my face, but said nothing. After they all completely disappeared from the room, my friends finally asked, “Summer, what do we do now?” “Liam’s right, the guests are still waiting. He’s just leaving you to clean up his mess!” I let out a cold laugh. If Liam thought this would make me regret it, then he was incredibly naive! “It’s just a wedding, isn’t it? No groom? I’ll just get a new one!” With that, I pulled out my phone and dialed a number.

The call connected quickly, but the voice on the other end was dripping with sarcasm: “Well, well! Calling me on your wedding day, Summer? Did the groom run off?” I often think Jace has a jinx. Otherwise, how could he always be right? I cleared my throat, speaking a little sheepishly. “Um, so, are you coming to my wedding?” He let out a mocking laugh, his voice full of disdain. “Summer, did you forget what I said?” Of course, I hadn’t forgotten. Jace had vowed that if I married Liam, he wouldn’t show up, even if I begged him. And he was true to his word; he wasn’t here today. I sighed helplessly. “Consider this me begging you, okay?” “I’m missing a groom. Will you play along with me to see this through?” Silence. Just when I was starting to wonder if the call had dropped, he finally spoke. “Wait there!” After the call ended, I found a new pair of heels, slipped them on, and told my bridesmaids, “Let’s go.” But as soon as we got downstairs, someone shouted, “Oh no, Summer, they’ve taken all the wedding cars!” Just as she said that, my phone vibrated. It was a message from Liam. **[If you want to cancel the wedding, then don’t even bother showing up!]** I let out a furious laugh. Trying to pull that trick on me, huh? This wedding? I was definitely going! Cars? My garage is practically a dealership. But I never expected Liam to be so petty. As soon as I got into a car, my phone started buzzing non-stop. Both sets of parents were constantly messaging me. **[Honey, Liam says you’re canceling the wedding, what’s going on?]** **[Summer, dear, I never interfere when you and Liam argue, but on such an important day, how can you be so unreasonable?]** **[Listen to me, go coax Liam back right now. Just get the wedding done, we can talk about everything else later.]** There were also curious and gossipy messages from friends, asking what was happening. I just quickly glanced at them, then replied to my mom. **[The wedding is happening as planned. If Liam doesn’t want to come, we’ll find someone else.]** I’ve always been strong-willed, and I never mess around with important matters like this. My mom didn’t know what was going on, but she still supported me. Not only that, but she publicly announced that since Liam wasn’t willing to show up for the wedding, our family would just replace him with someone else. As for the guests who came, they wouldn’t have wasted their trip. They were all welcome to stay for the wedding and dinner afterward. I heard that after my mom made her announcement, she immediately got into a huge argument with Liam’s mom. If this news reached my ears, it definitely reached Liam’s. A few minutes later, I received a call from Liam. But I hadn’t expected him to be making up scenarios in his head. The first thing he said was, “Summer, do you think this will force me to show up at the wedding? I’m telling you, no way!” “Just because you casually said you’d cancel the engagement, Chloe’s been crying, blaming herself. If you don’t apologize to her, don’t even think about me coming back to marry you.” Even at this point, all he cared about was Chloe. To say I wasn’t hurt at all would be a lie. But this time, I couldn’t swallow my pride! “Fine by me!” I sneered. “Don’t you dare come! I wouldn’t welcome you anyway!” “Summer! I’m warning you one last time, blowing things up like this, you’re the only one who will be embarrassed.” He didn’t need to worry about me. I hadn’t even finished that thought. When I heard him cooing to Chloe on the other end, my eyes hardened, and I immediately hung up. Not long after, we arrived at the hotel. As I was about to get out of the car, a hand reached out to me. “Your ride is here, Princess!” Though I was surprised Jace arrived so quickly, I felt a rush of warmth. He had his childhood sweetheart, and I had my own. The moment Jace and I appeared on stage together, everyone in the audience looked surprised. But I guess my mom had already prepped them, because everyone was pretty cooperative. Of course, someone also filmed the scene and sent it to one of Liam’s friends. That friend saw the message and was so shocked his phone dropped to the ground. Seeing everyone’s eyes on him, he stammered out, “Liam, Summer… she’s actually having a wedding with someone else!”

“What did you say!?” Liam immediately stood up, his voice filled with disbelief. The friend just picked up his phone and handed the video to Liam. As Liam’s face grew darker and darker, someone cautiously asked, “Liam, what do we do now? Are we just going to stand by and watch Summer marry someone else?” Hearing that, Liam couldn’t take it anymore. He furiously threw his phone to the ground. “No way!” With that, he grabbed his suit jacket. His voice was cold. “To the hotel, now!” “The only person Summer is marrying is me!” However, before he could leave, Chloe, her eyes red from crying, blocked his way. “Liam, if you go now, aren’t you just playing right into her hands?” Liam was in a fit of rage and wasn’t listening to anything she said. He just said, his face stormy, “Damn it, I chased her for three years, not to see her marrying someone else at *my* wedding!” “I just wanted to teach her a lesson, and now she’s trying to force my hand like this? Fine, I’ll give her what she wants!” After saying that, he forcefully pushed Chloe aside. She dramatically fell to the ground, letting out a pained cry, but Liam didn’t even look back. Seeing him about to walk out the door, Chloe quickly stood up and blocked him again. “No! Liam, you can’t go!” Liam’s expression shifted, and his gaze towards Chloe grew increasingly hostile. Luckily, she was quick-witted and immediately said: “Liam, I’m stopping you for your own good.” “She’s just found someone to marry so she doesn’t lose face, she’s not actually serious about marrying him. If you go, *you’re* the one who’ll look like a fool!” Liam looked at her with suspicion, as if weighing the credibility of her words. And Chloe, seeing a flicker of uncertainty in his expression, quickly continued: “Liam, as a woman, I know exactly what Summer’s thinking.” “She cares so much about a pair of wedding shoes, that means she definitely cares about you.” “Actually, I did this to stand up for you. You chased her for three years, and she’s getting mad at you over such a small thing. If you don’t let her learn her lesson, she’ll think you can’t live without her.” After Chloe finished, she saw Liam lost in thought. She subtly gestured to the people nearby. Seeing her signal, they immediately chimed in: “Liam, I agree, Summer’s totally overreacting. You spoil her so much, and just because of a pair of wedding shoes, she wants to cancel the wedding.” “Yeah, she’s just taking advantage of how much you dote on her. If you go to the wedding now, who knows how she’ll manipulate you!” “Liam, just listen to me. After the wedding, you just sweet-talk her a bit, and everything will be fine!” In the end, Liam was convinced by them. Of course, I knew nothing of any of this. Because right now, I was still reeling from what Jace had just said. I stared at him, feeling a bit dumbfounded. “What did you just say?” “I said, Ms. Summer, we just had a wedding, and you’re not even willing to give me an official status? Isn’t that a bit much?” “I’m a respectable single man, now suddenly married. If people ask to see our marriage certificate, I won’t have one! How embarrassing would that be!” “Wait!” I clamped my hand over his mouth. “It’s just acting! Just acting, got it?” The next second, I felt a sudden wetness on my palm. I instantly pulled my hand away. And met Jace’s triumphant grin. This man, still so hard to deal with! “Alright, enough messing around. If you don’t actually marry me, how will Liam believe it?” “I have a feeling he’ll still come bothering you. Do you seriously want to get back together with him?” I instinctively retorted, “How could I?” I admit, I did fall for Liam. But for me, Chloe’s presence was like a constant thorn in my side. I compromised once, and there would be a second time, a third. He was already siding with Chloe now, what about the future? Was I supposed to marry him just to constantly fight with Chloe? No matter what, the moment I said “cancel the engagement,” I never looked back. “Then let’s make him give up on you for good!” Coming out of the registry office, my mind was still dazed. Strange, how did Jace manage to talk me into this? “I’ll have the driver take you home first. I’ll be there in a bit.” With that, before I could even reply, he rushed off. I shook my head, not thinking much of it. After all this commotion and dealing with annoying things, I really just wanted to go home and rest. But what I didn’t expect was that, as I was entering the code to my door. Someone suddenly hugged me from behind. Without thinking, I kicked back and elbowed him away. I turned around defensively and saw Liam grimacing in pain. He said to me, “Summer, what the hell is wrong with you?” I rolled my eyes, retorted exasperatedly, “That’s what *I* should be asking you. Are you crazy?”

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