After a year of studying abroad, I returned home with high hopes, only to uncover a shocking secret that left me speechless. My husband, who had always insisted on remaining childless, had fathered a child with another woman behind my back. To add insult to injury, he had the audacity to bring this woman into our home under the guise of a nanny, forcing me to live with her. My mother-in-law’s attitude towards the situation was even more disheartening. She boasted proudly, “My son is truly successful now. He has two wives – one who earns money and another who takes care of the baby.” Hearing this, I couldn’t help but laugh bitterly to myself. Just wait and see how I’ll shatter this absurd fantasy of yours! As soon as I stepped through the door, James thrust a baby into my arms. “Honey, look! I adopted him. Isn’t he adorable?” Caught off guard, I awkwardly held the crying infant, a sense of unease washing over me. Just then, the bedroom door slowly opened, and a young, attractive woman emerged. With a smile playing on her lips, she said softly, “Let me take him. You don’t seem to know how to hold a baby properly.” She expertly took the child from me, cooing and soothing him. Within moments, his cries subsided. James grinned proudly. “Alex, I know you’re new to this, so I hired an experienced nanny to help out.” I stood there, stone-faced, my gaze darting between them as my mind raced. Not long ago, I had accidentally become pregnant and was overjoyed at the prospect of starting a family. But James had been adamant about remaining childless, ignoring my pleas and even threatening divorce. Heartbroken, I had no choice but to give up that child. Now, he suddenly brings home a baby? What was this all about? My thoughts were interrupted by the baby’s cries. The nanny, Sophia, said softly, “The little one must be hungry.” Before I could react, Sophia casually lifted her shirt, exposing her skin to breastfeed the baby right in front of James and me. James stood nearby, his eyes fixed on the scene. Anger flared within me. “How can you do that in front of my husband?” I snapped. Sophia looked up at me, her eyes brimming with tears, her lips trembling but no words coming out. James grabbed my arm and pulled me aside, chastising me, “You’ve never been a mother. When a baby’s hungry, nothing else matters.” I scoffed, “Then why are you staring so intently?” “What’s wrong with watching my son eat?” James retorted, shooting me an irritated glance. We stood there in tense silence, the air thick with unspoken hostility. As the room quieted, I could hear Sophia’s soft sobs. “I’m sorry, James. It’s all my fault. I don’t understand city ways,” Sophia whimpered. “Now that your wife is back, I should leave early.” She started to get up. James quickly grabbed her arm. “Don’t be silly. If you leave, who will take care of my son?” He turned to me, seemingly seeking my approval. Watching their little act, I felt a surge of anger and frustration building in my chest. Without another glance at them, I turned and walked into the bedroom. However, the sight that greeted me there only fueled my rage further. Women’s underwear was strewn across the bed, and my closet had been ransacked. My expensive dresses, which I rarely wore, were now stained and crumpled. Furious, I grabbed the underwear and stormed out of the bedroom, flinging it at James’s face. “You’d better explain what the hell is going on here!” My voice shook with anger. James’s face tensed, and he raised his voice, trying to mask his unease. “Alex, you’re being completely unreasonable! When did you become so arrogant and irrational?” His words nearly made me laugh in disbelief. Who was really being unreasonable and arrogant here? He had adopted a child without my consent and now allowed this nanny to invade my personal space so shamelessly. “I’m being unreasonable? James, is this nanny here for your son or for you? Why is her underwear on our bed?” I demanded. James’s face flushed, then paled. He opened his mouth but couldn’t form a response. Suddenly, Sophia fell to her knees, tears streaming down her face as she begged for forgiveness. “I’m so sorry, Alex. It’s all my fault…”

James shot me a withering glare before moving to help Sophia up. But she stubbornly remained on her knees, lifting her tear-filled eyes to James and shaking her head. “James, I really messed up,” Sophia said. “Alex has been away working hard for so long, and now she’s come home to find us causing trouble. If my kneeling can make her feel better, I’m willing to stay like this.” Her body trembled slightly as she lowered her head, her shoulders shaking uncontrollably. James’s eyes filled with concern for Sophia. He turned to me, his gaze cold and hard. “Do you have to push Sophia this far? Do you have any idea how exhausting it is for her to take care of the baby every day? She can’t even get a full night’s sleep.” I let out a derisive laugh. “She’s exhausted? And I’m not?” For the past year, I had been studying abroad, not only adapting to a foreign language environment but also juggling a heavy course load. To save money, I even took on two part-time jobs. I slept only 4-5 hours a night, all to successfully obtain my certification. And all of this was because our family suddenly had an additional monthly mortgage payment of nearly $4,000 – the result of James insisting on upgrading to a 3,200 square foot luxury apartment. I had thought that a happier life awaited me upon my return, but now everything was in chaos. Irritated, I looked at Sophia, still kneeling on the floor, and suddenly realized they were trying to shift the focus of the conversation. This wasn’t about who was more tired; it was about why the nanny was sleeping in my bedroom. Just as I was about to question them, James roughly pushed me aside. “Alex, how long are you going to make Sophia kneel? I told her to sleep in your room. She needs to feed the baby at night, and the other rooms are too small for her to be comfortable.” I stared at him intently. “And where do you sleep?” James’s expression immediately darkened. “What are you implying? I sleep in the study, of course!” At this, Sophia, still kneeling, began to cry even harder. “Alex, I may come from a poor background, but I’m not that kind of woman. I would never do anything so disgraceful.” With that, she got up and rushed into the bedroom to pack her things. James glared at me furiously. “Are you satisfied now? You’re so determined to drive Sophia away that you’d stoop to slandering her. Not only have you insulted her integrity, but you’ve also insulted your husband.” He shoved me aside and went to the bedroom to console Sophia, gently taking the clothes from her hands and carefully folding them before putting them back in the closet. In all our years of marriage, I had never seen him be so gentle. I had always handled all the household chores. Forget about folding clothes – even when I asked him to hang up the laundry while I was working late, he would ignore my request. I’d come home in the early hours of the morning to find the clothes still sitting in the washing machine. As I watched them and the sleeping baby, they looked like a real family of three, while I stood there feeling like an outsider. James turned back to me and shouted, “What are you still standing there for? Come and apologize to Sophia right now! Are you only happy when you’ve driven her away?” Sophia tugged at his sleeve and shook her head timidly. “It’s okay, Alex. You don’t need to apologize. I’m used to being mistreated. I’ll go make dinner for you all.” But James held her back firmly. “Honey, now that you’re back, you can cook for us from now on. Sophia is already exhausted from taking care of the baby.” His words hit me like a bolt of lightning, leaving me numb and unable to move.

I trembled with rage, my voice quivering with barely contained fury: “James, what exactly are you saying? Am I the hired nanny here?” Sophia gently pushed James aside and looked at me apologetically, explaining, “Alex, you might not be familiar with how things work in our industry. A nanny’s main responsibility is to take care of the baby. We don’t usually handle other household tasks because the baby’s safety is our top priority.” I took a deep breath, trying to calm my racing heart, then turned to Sophia and asked, “How much do you make per month?” Her demeanor changed instantly, a smug smile replacing her previous meekness. “I’m the agency’s top nanny. My monthly salary is $3,500.” I scoffed inwardly. That figure matched James’s monthly salary perfectly. He had been constantly complaining about financial pressure and the company’s poor performance, but it turned out he had dumped the entire burden of the mortgage on me while using his money to pay for this so-called top nanny. My gaze turned icy. “We can’t afford such an expensive nanny. Today is the 10th, so I’ll pay you for the full month. Thank you for your hard work during this time.” Sophia looked at me in shock, her voice choked with tears. “Alex, are you… are you firing me?” She clung to James’s sleeve, her pitiful appearance instantly triggering his protective instincts. James shielded her behind him and glared at me darkly. “Do I need your permission to hire a nanny with my own money? Who do you think you are, Alex?” I shook with anger. After we got married, most of our major purchases – the house, the car, the appliances, and the renovations – were largely funded by my salary. I worked late into the night every day, only to come home to find James either sprawled on the couch watching TV or playing video games in his study, leaving the house a mess for me to clean up. I had foolishly believed that at least his feelings for me were genuine, but now I realized it was all just wishful thinking on my part. I was about to retort when the doorbell suddenly rang. I was surprised to see my mother-in-law, Mrs. Parker, at the door. She pushed past me and went straight to the baby’s crib, her face beaming with joy. “Oh, my precious grandson! Let grandma see if you’ve gotten chubbier!” Sophia attentively catered to Mrs. Parker, regaling her with amusing anecdotes about the baby, which had her roaring with laughter. To my astonishment, Mrs. Parker removed the jade bracelet from her wrist and placed it on Sophia’s. “You’re a true blessing to our family, dear.” I stared at the scene in disbelief. “Mom, how can you give such a precious bracelet to an outsider?” That bracelet was part of my dowry from my own mother and held great sentimental value. Mrs. Parker shot me a disdainful look. “It was given to me, so I can do whatever I want with it. Don’t tell me you want it back now?” She then berated me for not having lunch ready and made a snide remark about my inability to bear children after all these years. Struggling to control my emotions, I said firmly, “That bracelet cannot be given to Sophia.” I stepped forward to retrieve the bracelet, but Sophia roughly pushed me away.

I stumbled, nearly losing my balance. Suddenly, James lunged forward, grabbing my hair and slapping me hard across the face. “Alex, have I been too lenient with you?” he roared. “It’s just a stupid bracelet, and you dare to lay hands on Sophia!” I cupped my stinging cheek, collapsing to the floor. Looking up, I saw the three of them towering over me. Their lips were moving, but all I could hear was a sharp ringing in my ears. Fighting back tears, I struggled to my feet. I grabbed a nearby glass and smashed it on the ground, sending shards flying everywhere. Trying to keep my voice from trembling, I fixed them with an icy stare and said slowly and deliberately: “If that’s how it is, then let’s get a divorce.” Upon hearing this, Mrs. Parker burst into shrill laughter as if she’d just heard a hilarious joke. “Alex, you really think too highly of yourself! Divorce? That’s for my son to decide, not you!” “What right does a woman like you have to ask for a divorce?” she continued, her voice dripping with contempt. “So what if my son hired a nanny? He’s such an outstanding man, he deserves to have eight women serving him if he wants!” She shot James a meaningful glance. “Son, your wife is so petty. Haven’t you been disciplining her properly?” James sneered, his face contorting with anger as he approached me. He grabbed my hair again, ignoring my struggles as he dragged me into the bedroom. I stared at him, my eyes unfocused, letting out a blood-curdling scream. Tears streamed down my face as I felt myself on the verge of a breakdown. I curled up in the corner, hugging my knees to my chest, listening to their laughter and cheerful conversation outside. My heart was filled with rage and despair. “I’ve always said we shouldn’t be too nice to Alex, or she’ll get ideas above her station,” Mrs. Parker’s voice drifted in. “You taught her a good lesson today. She’ll definitely be more obedient from now on,” Sophia chimed in. James laughed heartily, nodding in agreement. “Mom, you’re still the wisest of us all.” I took a deep breath, trying to regain my composure. I realized that their refusal to divorce was simply because they wanted me to continue earning money for them. Moreover, I currently had no concrete evidence against them. If I were to divorce now, I’d lose at least half of our assets, which would be a significant loss for me. With this in mind, I gradually calmed down. I straightened my disheveled clothes and walked out of the bedroom, forcing a smile onto my face. “You must be hungry. I’ll go make lunch for everyone,” I said, trying to keep my voice as natural as possible. Mrs. Parker snorted coldly. “It’s about time! Why did you have to make such a fuss earlier?” Sophia stood nearby, demurely peeling grapes for Mrs. Parker. “Don’t be upset with Alex, Mrs. Parker. It’s not worth ruining your mood over her.” I rolled my eyes, thinking to myself: Enjoy your smugness while you can. It won’t last much longer. After preparing the meal, Mrs. Parker knocked the chopsticks out of my hand and glared at me. “Go buy two bottles of juice. Sophia likes orange juice.” She turned to Sophia with a smile, their expressions full of triumph and challenge. I let out a cold laugh and left the house without a word. I dawdled downstairs while buying the drinks, deliberately giving them enough time. As I left, I intentionally left the door slightly ajar. In the elevator, I pressed the button for one floor below ours, then slowly made my way up the stairs to our front door. I pressed myself against the wall, listening to the cheerful voices and Mrs. Parker’s nauseating laughter coming from inside. My heart was filled with anger and disgust. “My son is truly capable!” Mrs. Parker’s voice rang out. “Now Sophia has given you a son and can live here as a nanny. Let that little bitch Alex go out and earn money for us while you enjoy the best of both worlds at home!”

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Cold water sprayed from the shower head, drenching me from head to toe. Ethan’s long, powerful hands caressed my lips. “I told you, mistakes must be punished,” he whispered. “Brother, why… why are you here?” I stammered. At the gates of A University, I was holding hands with my boyfriend Oliver, ready to go on a date, when a Maybach stopped in front of us. Ethan, dressed in an impeccably tailored black suit, stepped out of the car. It had been almost two years since I last saw him, and an inexplicable panic welled up inside me. He said nothing, his gaze falling on Oliver’s and my intertwined hands. As if touched by a spark, before my brain could react, my hand had already retracted. I even unconsciously moved half a step away, distancing myself from Oliver. Oliver turned to me in surprise, “Chloe?” A cold, composed smile appeared on Ethan’s face. “Chloe, aren’t you going to introduce me?” I avoided his gaze, not daring to look at him directly. “I… he…” I suddenly became a stutterer. Unexpectedly, Oliver smiled graciously and extended his hand to Ethan: “So you’re the brother. I’m Oliver, Chloe’s boyfriend.” Ethan lowered his eyelashes, glancing at Oliver’s hand with no intention of shaking it. He turned to look at me and said, “Boyfriend? It seems our little Chloe has grown up and even has a boyfriend now. Why didn’t you tell your brother?” Though he was smiling, I felt a chill run down my spine, as if a cold, venomous snake was slithering up my back. I wanted to flee. I just wanted to escape. But my feet felt like they were filled with lead, unable to move. Seeing that Ethan had no intention of shaking hands, Oliver awkwardly withdrew his hand, but still maintained a polite smile on his face. “Brother, Chloe and I haven’t been together for long. She probably hasn’t had the chance to tell you yet…” “Don’t call me that. I’m her brother, not yours,” Ethan said coldly, his icy gaze sweeping over Oliver. With that, he grabbed my wrist and unceremoniously pushed me into the car. Oliver hurriedly stepped forward, but unsure of what to do since Ethan was my brother, he could only tap on the window, calling my name in confusion. I opened the window and forced a smile. “Oliver, my brother needs me for something. You should head back to campus first.” Before I could finish speaking, Ethan leaned over and closed the window. The car started, and Oliver’s worried face quickly receded in the rearview mirror. … The shower in the bathroom was turned on full blast. Ethan pushed me into the bathtub, and cold water poured down on me. He leaned in, his long, powerful fingers tightly gripping my chin. His expression was grim. “Did he touch you?” “No,” I shook my head, tears streaming down my face uncontrollably, mixing with the cold water. “Brother, Chloe knows she was wrong.” “What did you do wrong?” His voice was dangerous, impossible to disobey. “Chloe shouldn’t have dated.” “What else?” “I shouldn’t have hidden from you.” “And?” He prompted. I sobbed and shook my head. “There’s nothing else…” Ethan cupped my face, looking at me seriously. “And you can’t let anyone touch you. They’re all too dirty. They’ll taint my Chloe. Do you understand?” Looking at his cold eyes, I nodded fearfully.

My name is Chloe Wilson. Ethan is my brother, or more accurately, my stepbrother. Before I was eight, my life was a bottomless hell. My biological father was an alcoholic gambler with severe domestic violence tendencies. He was an absolute scumbag. Every time he lost at gambling or got drunk, he would come home and beat my mom and me. Eventually, my mom couldn’t take it anymore and filed for divorce, but he still wouldn’t leave us alone. He would come to our house every few days to demand money and beat us. He was a madman, and no one dared to stop him. Until I was eight, my mom met Mr. Wilson. He had someone break that man’s legs and throw him out. From then on, that man never dared to harass us again. It turns out he wasn’t so crazy after all. He was afraid of death too. Half a year later, my mom married Mr. Wilson, and we moved into the Wilson mansion. That was the first time I met Ethan. Because I had always lived under the shadow of my biological father, I was timid and insecure from a young age. I hid behind my mom, clinging to her waist, afraid to meet people. Mom pulled me out from behind her and said with a smile, “Chloe, this is your brother. Say hello to your brother.” I saw Ethan’s face was indifferent, his eyes devoid of any emotion. But he was so handsome. I had never seen such a good-looking brother before. I thought, he shouldn’t be a bad person, right? So I gathered my courage and timidly called out, “Brother.” “Chloe is such a good girl.” Mr. Wilson patted my head and then said to Ethan, “This is your Aunt Chen, say hello.” A cold smile flashed across Ethan’s face. Before I could figure out who he was smiling at, he turned and went upstairs. “This child!” Mr. Wilson was slightly angry. Mom held him back. “It’s okay, he’s still young. Let’s take it slow. I don’t mind.” I watched his back, and for some reason, I felt he was very lonely.

From that day on, I became Chloe Wilson, the young lady of Prosperous Bay City’s top elite family. My life turned upside down, everything was like a dream. My mom became the elegant Mrs. Wilson, but in private when no one was around, she would always pull me aside and say, “Chloe, you must be good. Listen to your uncle and brother. If you don’t behave, we’ll be thrown out. Do you understand?” Over and over again! Her words lingered in my ears like a nightmare. You must behave, Chloe. Or we’ll be thrown out. You must behave! You must behave! Or we’ll be thrown out! I didn’t want to be thrown out. I didn’t want to go back to that run-down rental house, didn’t want to go hungry and cold, and definitely didn’t want to be beaten by that man. Chloe was very scared. Chloe will be very good, will definitely behave! Don’t throw Chloe out! Although my brother was very fierce, although he always spoke harshly to me and ignored my attempts to be nice. He called me the daughter of a bitch. He poured the milk I brought him over my head. He threw the birthday gift I prepared for him in the trash. When I was cleaning up broken glass, he stepped on my hand. At school, when I picked up his basketball, he pushed me down the stairs… But it’s okay, Chloe is a good child, Chloe doesn’t get angry. We attended an elite school that combined elementary, middle, and high school. When I transferred there, I was in third grade, and Ethan had just started middle school. Mr. Wilson told him to wait for me every day to go home together, but he never waited a second longer than necessary. If I was late, even if he had already seen me coming out of the school gates, he would still have the driver leave. Many times, I had to walk home by myself. The road was long, and I was very tired, but when I got home, I always apologized to Mr. Wilson, saying it was my fault for playing around and letting my brother leave first. Ethan looked at me with a mocking expression, I didn’t know if he was mocking my self-importance or laughing at how easily I lied at such a young age. But I was just afraid, afraid of going back to the nightmare of the past. Would the gods in heaven forgive Chloe’s lies?

This went on for a long time, until my first year of middle school. One day, Ethan was playing ball with his friends in the yard. For some reason, his hat was thrown up into a tree. He told me to climb up and get it. I didn’t ask why his hat ended up in the tree while they were playing ball, nor did I refuse. But that hat was stuck very high, and I couldn’t reach it. After a lot of effort, I finally grabbed it, but then I heard a crack beneath my feet. The branch broke, and I fell. It hurt, it really hurt. I was in so much pain that tears came to my eyes. But I still held onto the hat tightly. Sitting on the ground, I raised it high above my head and smiled at Ethan, saying, “Brother, I got your hat down.” Ethan looked at me for a long time. He probably thought I looked ridiculous, smiling while tears were streaming down my face. Then, he took out his phone and called 911. I had fractured my left ankle and it took three months to heal. But during those three months, Ethan never once showed concern for me. However, I didn’t regret it at all, because after that day, his attitude towards me improved a lot, or rather, a lot lot. He no longer called me the daughter of a bitch, and he wouldn’t bully me randomly. He even waited three minutes for me every day after school. Although he still didn’t show much of a pleasant expression, I was already very content. I thought, as long as I behaved, my brother wouldn’t throw me out. When I was in my second year of middle school, Ethan was in his last year of high school. I thought he must be very tired from studying, so I often brought him a glass of hot milk at night. That day, his room door wasn’t closed. I was carrying another glass of hot milk when I pushed the door open— Crash! The glass shattered, milk splattered everywhere. I saw Ethan at his desk, covered in blood, holding a craft knife in his hand, cutting his left arm over and over again. He looked up at me, still with those beautiful eyes that held no warmth. His lips were white, devoid of any color. “Come here,” he said. I walked over step by step, kneeling in front of him, my knees soaked in his blood. I carefully cradled his hand, tears unstoppable. “Are you scared?” His voice was cold. I shook my head. “Why are you crying?” he asked me. “Brother, it hurts so much.” I looked up, tears sliding down my neck into my collar. He stared at me blankly for a long time, then raised his hand to my cheek, wiping away my tears. The sticky, warm sensation was Ethan’s fresh blood. I found the first aid kit and treated his wounds. When I washed away the blood with clean water, I realized there were many old scars on his arm. This was probably why he never wore short sleeves. I used alcohol to disinfect and then bandaged his wounds. Throughout the process, he remained calm, as if he had completely lost the ability to feel pain. When I finally finished, he looked at me, his eyes filled with a pain and struggle I couldn’t understand, which eventually settled into calmness. “Chloe, do you like your brother?” “I like you, I like my brother.” I said seriously. He smiled, leaning forward to hug me, burying his face in my neck. “You said it yourself, you must remember, never leave your brother.” “Okay, Chloe will never leave her brother.”

After that, Ethan became increasingly kind to me, you could say he was attentive in every way. In fact, except for the time we spent in classes at school, we were inseparable at all other times. The expressions on his face also became more varied. He was no longer cold and distant all the time. Most of the time when he looked at me, he had a smile. But for some reason, not long after, the classmates around me started to gradually distance themselves from me. At first, it was a few boys I was close to. One after another, they stopped talking to me and even asked the teacher to change their seats. Later, even the girls rarely communicated with me. They always avoided me, as if I were some kind of monster. I sat alone in the corner of the classroom, without a desk mate. Soon after, a transfer student came to our class. He seemed very curious about me and often stole glances at me. Not long after, he confessed to me. Of course, I politely refused him. He was very disappointed, but I wasn’t someone who would date at such a young age. After all, I always behaved well. That afternoon after school, I waited for a long time but Ethan didn’t come to pick me up. Usually, he always waited for me at the classroom door. I thought maybe the teacher had kept the class late. After all, the coursework for seniors was very heavy, so I decided to go wait for him. I packed up my schoolbag and went downstairs. Because it was a bit late, there were hardly any people left in the school. I came to the high school building, when suddenly I heard strange sounds coming from a corner. I curiously walked over. Then I saw Ethan leaning against the wall, a half-smoked cigarette held between his slender index and middle fingers. On the ground in front of him, a small boy was curled up, being kicked and punched by several high school boys. He had no strength to resist, and gradually stopped moving. Even his cries of pain became weaker and weaker, until only miserable moans remained. Ethan extinguished the cigarette on the boy’s thin shoulder, casually tossing it onto him, his tone ice-cold: “Don’t get close to Chloe Wilson again, or I’ll kill you.” I finally understood why they had been avoiding me. I covered my mouth to prevent myself from screaming out loud, then quietly left. I recognized the boy on the ground. He was the transfer student who had confessed to me today. I should have gone to save him, but… I didn’t dare. I had finally made Ethan accept me, like me. I couldn’t make him angry, or he would throw me out of the Wilson family. Chloe will always be good, won’t make brother angry. But… I’m really a very bad person. This time, will the gods still forgive me?

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My lover suffers from delusional disorder. He imagines me as his enemy, his nemesis, the person he hates the most. Day after day, I play along with his delusion. Until one day, I can’t pretend anymore. I’ve been diagnosed with cancer. When I returned home, the room was dark. I put down my bag, took off my shoes, and slowly felt my way along the wall. The moment I touched the switch, a plate flew towards me. I tilted my head and dodged it. The lights came on. The man standing on the stairs looked at me expressionlessly. “So you remember to come back.” “…” I smiled and walked towards him. I reached out and hugged him. “Can you stop acting like a resentful housewife, Lucas?” He had a faint floral scent, the one I had chosen. I thought it might neutralize the coldness he emitted. But it didn’t. His eyes still looked at me with disgust.

The crystal chandelier scattered fine light. But the living room, though lit, was unusually cold, and the man sitting beside me had no warmth at all. I placed the tablet on my knees, showing him page after page. “Look, for our wedding, how about I wear this?” “This skirt design is mermaid style.” “It’s so beautiful, like light flowing over it.” “I also really like this one, the veil has a star design, just like the one you took me to see-” A sneer interrupted my words. He looked up, his dark eyes staring straight at me. “Do we have a past?” I wanted to tell the man in front of me that we did, we had many, many good memories. But the person in front of me always saw me as a heinous villain. He turned my chin and kissed the corner of my lips. His cool voice carried a hint of wanton allure, elegant yet dark with desire. “Be good, give me the medicine.”

The reason Lucas listens to me so obediently is because I have something he desperately craves. If he had looked through the internal reports from the bureau a few years ago, he would have found his name in the columns for drug enforcement commendation and injuries in the line of duty. Lucas became addicted to drugs during his undercover period. And after ending his undercover career, he developed paranoid personality disorder. In other words, delusional disorder. He categorized almost everyone around him as enemies, including me. Including me, whom he once said he loved the most and would protect with his life. The once gentle person was long gone, dragged into a hell of no return, looking at me with eyes as cold as a thousand-year-old cave. The bedroom light was dim. I grabbed his collar, and though I had him pinned beneath me, his gaze remained calm. Though addicted to drugs, he remained as pure as a high and mighty god. Even a slight curl of his lips was pleasing to the eye. I leaned down to kiss him, but with a deft move, he flipped me underneath him. He felt around in the pocket on my chest for a while, found the syringe. Skillfully, he injected it into his right arm. … This syringe, to him, was like a drug. In fact, it wasn’t. It was a mental medication containing sedatives, specially formulated for him. Quitting drugs can’t be done overnight; the dosage needs to be gradually reduced. I suddenly understood why he hated me so much. Because in his eyes, I wasn’t his closest lover. I was someone who got him addicted to drugs, and then hypocritically dangled a bit of drugs in front of him every day… Just a bad person…

I had a dream. I dreamed of several years ago, when Lucas was still undercover. One Christmas Eve, I went to see him. We passed through the crowds, but could only see each other from behind the cover of newspapers. He had his hands in his pockets, leaning against the railing as if boneless. Lucas was handsome; even a slight curl of his lips was both cool and bad, attracting glances from the girls nearby. Right in front of me, he whistled at those two girls. I kicked his foot. He yelped, then called to me in a low voice. “Babe, I have to play the part fully, you know.” He had already started to take on the air of the underworld, but his eyes remained clear. As the sound of Christmas carols drifted by, he tilted his head back, his words tinged with teasing. “Three years, then another three years, then another three years.” That was a line from the movie “Infernal Affairs”, our favorite cop and gangster film. He turned his head, our eyes meeting through the reflection in the glass. “When will I be able to marry you?” … I put down the newspaper and brushed past him. “When the mission is over, I’ll be waiting for you to marry me.” … The mission was over, but I didn’t get to wait for him to marry me. The next morning when I woke up, the space beside me was empty, no one there. Of course, I knew he hated me and didn’t want to stay in the same bed with me. But when I went downstairs and couldn’t find him anywhere, I panicked. I searched every corner of the house, but couldn’t find him. I called my friends, my hand shaking as I held the phone. But he was nowhere to be found. I hugged my head and crouched down. Lately, I often got headaches when I thought too hard about things. The increasingly throbbing head made my vision swim, but the anxiety of not finding him was the real torture. I frantically typed out messages, even thinking of asking my former colleagues at the bureau to help me search. My wildly beating heart grew hotter and hotter, until a pair of white shoes appeared in front of me. “What are you doing?” A steady voice, still cold and indifferent. Lucas wasn’t Lucas anymore, yet Lucas was still Lucas. But the man standing before me with an indifferent expression could no longer be reconciled with the boy in my memories. I stood up and hugged him. I don’t know why, but I really liked hugging him. It was as if I could leave my warmth on his body this way, even though he never hugged me back. “I thought you left, Lucas.” He stepped back, subtly pushing me away. “I just went to water the flowers.” “…” I smiled, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. “What do you want for dinner? I’ll cook…” “Stop pretending. You don’t even let me go out.” He cut me off, picked up a book from the dining table, and went upstairs. I didn’t let Lucas go out because I was afraid he might be targeted by remnants of the drug organization he had infiltrated. But the more I did this, the more he became like a white dove trapped in a cage. The more he hated me.

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“What do I care if she’s dead?” Lucian Armstrong stood on the yacht, swirling a glass of champagne between his fingers. Twenty-seven years of friendship, seven years of love, and my death brought him nothing but a grand sense of liberation. He sneered at the media, “Someone like her deserves to be abandoned by everyone.” And now, I was really dead. The whole world seemed to be celebrating my death, as if I had never been worthy of love. Until one day, when my camera was sent to be played by a friend— Everyone started saying they loved me, but I could no longer hear them. 0 On the set of the TV show “CEO Talk”. The host tentatively asked, “Mr. Armstrong, we heard that your ex-wife, Miss Iris Chen, passed away recently due to illness.” “There are rumors online suggesting that you might have had something to do with it. Do you have any response to that?” The camera cut to Lucian’s cold profile. He scoffed, “She was just a despicable person. What is there for me to respond to?” The audience gasped. The host feigned surprise, “We’ve heard that you and Miss Chen were childhood friends. Was she always like this?” Lucian’s sneer froze on his face. He seemed to be pondering the question himself. Was I inherently like that? Or did I change for the worse later? “Before the show, we received an old camera from Miss Chen’s friend. It’s said to be one of Iris’s belongings.” Lucian raised an eyebrow, “What a waste of time.” He was about to leave. The host raised his voice, “Mr. Armstrong, you wouldn’t mind talking about your ex-wife on the show, would you? After all, she was quite popular when she was alive.” Hearing that I had been popular, Lucian sat back down, “Fine.” The staff brought the camera over. Lucian froze for a few seconds. Because this camera was given to me by his mother on my eighth birthday. When the camera was turned on, the memory was almost full. The host smiled, “It seems Miss Chen was quite fond of recording things.” The first video clip was labeled “Our Precious Childhood” and was projected onto the big screen. The old camera’s blurry quality unfolded, accompanied by the grainy sound typical of recordings from over a decade ago. “Lucian, slow down! My legs are so short~” An adult’s voice came from off-screen. “Sis, the camera you gave Iris is really her treasure~” “Hurry up, Iris, we’re going to buy ice cream.” The childhood Lucian suddenly turned around, “Haha, your legs are really short.” The image suddenly tilted, showing two little heads close together, sharing an ice cream cone. “Mom said I could marry you when I grow up if I want.” “My mom said the same thing, that I could marry you when we grow up.” “But I don’t have a white dress. How can we get married?” “It’s okay, my mom has one. You can wear hers~” Suddenly, an adult entered the frame, “You two rascals are sneaking ice cream again.” “Oh no! We’ve been caught~” followed by the giggling of two children. As the projection ended, the camera panned to Lucian. This genius known for his cold-bloodedness in the business world was rubbing his index finger— There was a deep bite mark there, which I had deliberately made when I was five. The host asked softly, “I heard your families have been friends for generations?” Lucian’s gaze was still glued to the big screen, “Yes.” The big screen suddenly switched to another video named “Confession”. The image was a bit shaky, but you could hear my nervous breathing. “Lucian, don’t… don’t come any closer.” In the frame, a 19-year-old Lucian, wearing his basketball team uniform and covered in sweat, was smiling brightly. “Iris.” He knelt on one knee, producing a bouquet of sunflowers from behind his back, his voice rising by an octave. “Be my girlfriend.” The surrounding classmates laughed and cheered. The camera shook a bit, showing Iris backing away. “Are you… are you crazy?” “Yes, I must be crazy.” He fumbled in his pocket and pulled out a stack of photos. “Look, these are our photos from childhood to now. I’ve kept them all.” He then proudly held up his hand: “See! I even kept your little dog tooth mark. I like you, you know that~ For a long time now.” “And if I don’t confess now, I’m afraid someone else might snatch you away.” A soft voice came from the frame: “Hmph~ Then I guess I’ll reluctantly be your girlfriend.” The surrounding classmates’ cheers rose, and the image froze on the moment Lucian lunged forward to grab the camera. He suddenly came close to the lens and said seriously, “Iris, I really like you.” Followed by a quiet response: “Me too.” Murmurs came from the audience, “They were so happy and innocent back then!” “I wonder how Iris ended up doing such disgusting things later.” When the camera panned to Lucian, the man who had been sneering earlier was still unconsciously rubbing that tooth mark. 0

The big screen played the next video, titled “Lucian’s 21st Birthday” In the grainy footage, a 20-year-old Iris was setting up a candlelit dinner. The camera shook slightly, as if someone had carefully placed it on the table at the right angle. In the dim, warm yellow light, even though she was wearing a simple white t-shirt with her hair loosely tied back, you could tell she was happy at that time. The basic cake had unevenly spread frosting. On top, written in chocolate sauce with wobbly letters: “First year! Wishing my love Lucian eternal happiness!” “Twentieth,” she counted softly, her fingers still smeared with a bit of frosting. “Oh no!” She turned to the camera, pouting. “I’m short one candle. He’s turning twenty-one this year.” Just then, the sound of a door opening came from off-screen. The camera angle was quickly adjusted. Lucian from seven years ago burst into the frame. His face was youthful, with sweat on his forehead. “What’s this?” “Don’t look!” Iris blushed, trying to cover his eyes. But he picked her up and set her on the table. Lucian’s Adam’s apple bobbed as he looked at her adoringly. Suddenly, he laughed, “You’ve turned yourself into a cake too.” He then wiped a bit of frosting off her nose. The camera was knocked over, changing the angle to an upward view. It showed Lucian cupping her face, saying, “Thank you. This is the best birthday gift I’ve ever received.” The sound of a lighter being flicked came from off-screen. Iris said with a smile, “Quick, make a wish.” The final frame froze on Lucian’s profile as he closed his eyes to make a wish. In the corner of the frame, Iris gazed at him with eyes full of joy. The host asked softly, “Mr. Armstrong, did your wish from back then come true?” He stared intently at the frozen image on the screen, silent for a moment before answering. “It did… No, actually, it didn’t.” “What was the wish?” the host persisted. Lucian pressed his lips together without speaking. Host: “It’s clear you were very much in love at that time.” “Yes… At that time, I thought she was kind and gentle. Unfortunately, it took me many years to see her true colors.” The host smiled, “Let’s move on to the next clip.” 0

As the static cleared, a video titled “Wedding” began to play, accompanied by the lively sounds of the event. The camera shook slightly, as if someone was holding it. Glimpses of guests’ smiling faces occasionally flashed at the edges of the frame before the camera suddenly focused. I stood at the end of the red carpet in my wedding dress. The style was simple. But when the music started and I looked towards Lucian, my eyes lit up, making the dress seem to sparkle. The camera turned to Lucian, who was staring intently at me, tears glistening in his eyes. As I walked closer step by step in the frame, his fingers unconsciously curled and uncurled. The guests’ good-natured laughter rose, and both of us shyly lowered our heads. The priest began to recite the vows, but Lucian couldn’t wait for him to finish and eagerly said, “I do.” The last few seconds of the video showed me in Lucian’s arms, my right hand wiping away tears. Lucian held me tightly, as if he had won a great victory, his eyes full of joy. Lucian stared at the frozen embrace on the video, lost in thought for a long time. His hand unconsciously opened and closed, just as it had on our wedding day. Except for Lucian and me, no one knew. At the moment of that embrace, Lucian had whispered in my ear, “I will never let you go for the rest of my life.” The image froze on this blissful moment, leaving even the host momentarily speechless. Host: “You must have been very happy then?” Lucian: “Yes, but time revealed her true nature to me.” 0

The next video, titled “Growth,” began to play. The camera shook, showing the bathroom of an upscale restaurant. My face was pale, with only half my makeup done. By then, we had left school, and my once youthful face now wore mature makeup. Leaning on the sink, I coughed violently, even coughing up blood. “It’s fine, just recording this as a memento…” In the frame, I wiped the corner of my mouth and forced a smile at the camera. “If this deal goes through today, the company will survive~ Lucian won’t have to face those people’s contempt anymore.” My friend’s anxious voice came from off-screen: “You’re crazy. You shouldn’t drink like this.” I clenched my fist, biting my lip: “With Lucian’s temperament, he’d rather let the company go bankrupt than bow to these people.” My voice was soft but carried a fond exasperation. “This is the last thing Lucian’s parents left us. We must protect it.” The scene changed to a private room in the restaurant, where I was surrounded by men forcing me to drink. Although my face was already flushed red, I kept saying, “You must sign the contract~ You must sign it~” “Drink three more glasses, and I’ll sign it right away!” The man in the black suit with a protruding belly laughed as he poured more drinks. “Isn’t your Mr. Armstrong too proud? Now he sends his woman to beg me.” In the frame, I took the glass and drank it all at once, “He doesn’t know about this. I came on my own.” The video froze as I rushed back to the bathroom to vomit. With reddened eyes, I said, “Turn it off. I can’t even watch this myself.” Sighs echoed through the audience. The host’s voice trembled: “Mr. Armstrong, about these things…” Lucian’s face turned pale as he whispered, “I didn’t know…” “At that time, when the company was about to be liquidated, I thought she was out drinking all night because she despised me.” He must have remembered those days when the company was on the brink of bankruptcy, and I would come home late, reeking of alcohol. What did he say back then? “Not even pretending anymore? Can’t wait for bankruptcy before finding a sugar daddy? Aren’t you ashamed?” But the sacrifices I made that I never recorded were far more than what he saw. I didn’t need to emphasize or explain, not then, not now. Later, the company was revived because of that order, and he always thought it was due to his own abilities. The host then played the next video, titled “Someone Like Me”. The camera focused on Lucian’s office, where he could be seen talking quietly with a young woman. The girl’s high ponytail and side profile when she lowered her head bore an uncanny resemblance to my younger self. “Mr. Armstrong, thank you for teaching me so much~” The girl’s voice came through the door crack, with a hint of deliberate coyness, “You promised to teach me about wine tasting, don’t go back on your word~” The camera shook slightly, turning towards the scab left on my lip from biting it due to the pain of a gastric hemorrhage. The host silently continued playing the next clip. In the video titled “The Girl Named Candice”, the “victim” who first put me in the spotlight of social media controversy was seen tracing Lucian’s tie with her slender fingers. “Lucian~ I want to tie your tie for you too.” “Yesterday, Mrs. Chen said my work wasn’t up to par again. Could you talk to her about it this afternoon?” Lucian suddenly stood up: “What’s the point of Iris secretly filming all this?” “She’s just my subordinate. We were having a normal conversation~” He was angry that Candice’s inappropriate behavior towards him had been made public. But he didn’t know that Candice had sent me many more moments in private, far more disgusting than what was shown in the video. Breakfast Lucian personally prepared for her. Lucian sleeping on her shoulder. Check-in messages Lucian sent her during business dinners. Angry voices erupted from the audience: “If I’m not mistaken, isn’t this the secretary who cried on social media about being bullied by Iris in the workplace?” The host sighed and continued to play the next clip.

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After my ex-boyfriend was recognized by a wealthy family and established himself in high society, his first act was to come back and seek revenge on me. All because I broke up with him the year he was diagnosed with leukemia. What he doesn’t know is that the anonymous donor who gave him bone marrow was me. And while he’s frantically searching for information about me to exact his revenge, I’ve been dead for three years. Zachary Thompson sat with one leg crossed over the other, one hand propping up his head, the other tapping lightly on the table. “Mrs. White, how have you been lately?” he asked, his voice polite but his expression cold. My heart raced. Zachary was going to cause trouble for my mom. “I’m doing fine, Zachary. How about you… how are you doing?” My mom sat across from him, looking nervously at the men in black suits standing behind him. “Oh, I’m doing great. Ever since your gold-digger daughter left me, everything’s been smooth sailing. Look, I brought you a little something,” Zachary said, his face dark. He then smirked and gestured for one of his men to bring out a stack of cash. “Zachary, what’s the meaning of this?” My mom looked at him, bewildered. “Isn’t this why Lily broke up with me back then? Because I had no money?” Zachary laughed cruelly. “If she comes out now and gets on her knees to apologize, all this can be yours.” He grabbed the stacks of money and started throwing them at my mom’s head. I watched as my mom trembled with anger, pointing at Zachary’s nose, unable to speak. “What’s wrong, Mrs. White? Surprised? I’m still alive, and now I’m the heir to the Thompson fortune.” I was furious at the scene before me. I rushed forward to slap Zachary, but my hand passed right through his body. Zachary remained seated, showing no reaction, as if he couldn’t sense my presence at all. I stared at my hand in disbelief, suddenly remembering that I had been dead for three years. “Lily… she can’t see you right now. You should leave,” my mom said, her voice breaking as tears welled up in her eyes. I floated nearby, helpless, wanting to tell my mom not to cry, but unable to do so. “Can’t see me? Is she doing something she’s ashamed of?” Zachary sneered. “Let me guess. Is she someone’s mistress? Or maybe she’s working at a nightclub, entertaining rich men?” Zachary lit a cigarette, his laughter growing louder, each chuckle like a thorn piercing my heart. “Enough! Lily isn’t like that!” My mom cried out, tears rolling down her cheeks as she tried to stop Zachary from continuing. “Isn’t like what? Am I wrong? Didn’t she leave me because I was poor and sick?” Zachary’s smile vanished. He swept the teacup off the table with his hand, sending glass shards and hot tea flying onto my mom. My mom’s arm was cut, blood seeping from the wounds. She sat frozen in her seat, ignoring the blood on her arm. Her mouth opened and closed, as if wanting to say something but swallowing it back. My spirit felt as if it had been scalded by the tea, anxiously floating around. Damn it! Why am I just a spirit? Why can’t I wipe away my mom’s tears? Why can’t I slap Zachary’s mouth for her? “Oh, I’m so sorry, Mrs. White. I accidentally knocked over the tea you just poured,” Zachary said, putting out his cigarette. He took a handkerchief from his assistant and leisurely wiped his hands. “Consider this money as compensation for my clumsiness.” “Oh, and remember to tell Lily, if she refuses to see me, I can’t guarantee I won’t do something… unpleasant.” Zachary flashed another wicked smile, glanced at my trembling mom, and left with his entourage of men in black. My mom shakily stood up and walked to my room. The room was still arranged the same as it had been three years ago. She picked up a photo from the bedside table, her fingers gently caressing it as if trying to touch the person in the picture through the glass. “Lily… Mom knows that Zachary has been holding a grudge all these years, but hearing him talk about you like that…” “It breaks Mom’s heart…” My tears fell uncontrollably, my chest feeling as if it were being squeezed by a giant hand, making it hard to breathe. I had been gone for three years, and every time someone mentioned my name, my mom would tear up and fall silent. Time hadn’t dulled her grief. She still watered the gardenia in front of the house every day and regularly cleaned my room.

The next day, when my mom went to work, her company told her she had been fired. She sat dazed on the sidewalk outside the company, mumbling, “What about Kevin’s medical bills now…” I floated in the air, looking at the strands of white mixed in with her black hair, feeling a lump in my throat. This job had been my mom’s only source of income. After I passed away, my brother also fell ill, and she could only find work as a cleaner to make ends meet. I guessed that my mom’s job loss was Zachary’s doing, and my guilt towards her deepened. I had thought that leaving him like that would make him give up and move on, but I didn’t realize his obsession would run so deep. Deep enough that three years later, he would lose his rationality and extend his anger to my family. My spirit followed Zachary, wanting to slap him hard to avenge my mom. I watched as Zachary entered a mansion. Inside, a woman took his coat and kissed his cheek affectionately. As I recognized the familiar figure of the woman, my mind went blank. It was Rachel Young. Rachel and I were high school classmates. She was beautiful and came from a wealthy family. Many boys pursued her, including Zachary. Rachel was used to being chased by numerous boys and knew they would give up before long. But she hadn’t expected that boy named Zachary Thompson to persist from freshman to senior year. So that year, she approached me. With a dazzling smile, she handed me a card. “Go find a way to get together with Zachary Thompson. I don’t care how you do it, just keep him from bothering me.” At that time, I was sick but didn’t dare tell the school, fearing they would make me take a leave of absence. Looking through her beautiful eyes at sickly, unattractive me, I had no choice. I needed money for medical treatment. I took the card, which contained more zeros than I could count at first glance. So I went to intercept this trouble for Rachel, mustering up the courage to confess to Zachary. Surprisingly, it went smoothly. That’s how Zachary and I got together. “Zachary, what’s wrong? Did something happen today?” My reminiscence was interrupted as Rachel gently massaged Zachary’s shoulders, asking about his day in an intimate tone. “I met someone who put me in a bad mood,” Zachary said, pinching the bridge of his nose, his voice heavy. “I’ll ask the housekeeper to make some sweet soup. You’ll feel better after eating it,” Rachel said, leaning on Zachary’s shoulder, her voice as gentle as water. Zachary tilted his head to kiss her lips. “It’s good to have you.” As I watched the man I had loved for years, my heart filled with an indescribable sourness. He already had a beautiful companion by his side, yet he still couldn’t let go of the past, insisting on reopening my mother’s wounds.

I hadn’t expected that Rachel would, because of Zachary’s words, follow the trail and learn about Zachary’s visit to my mom. The next day, she also went to my house. When Rachel arrived, my mom was doing some handicraft work. Rachel smiled at my mom, “Hello, Mrs. White. You remember Zachary Thompson, right? I’m Zachary’s wife.” “Hello, please have a seat,” my mom said after a moment’s hesitation, not showing any hostility despite what had happened with Zachary. “Mrs. White, my name is Rachel Young. I was also Lily’s classmate,” Rachel said. “I haven’t seen Lily in a long time. Could I possibly see her today?” My mom’s hands froze. She shook her head. “Rachel, I’m afraid Lily isn’t available to see you anymore.” Rachel covered her mouth lightly, speaking as if unintentionally, “How could she not be available?” “Don’t tell me Lily is really doing some disreputable work?” My mom’s hands stopped moving, her expression changing. “Rachel, you were Lily’s classmate. You should know what kind of person she was.” Rachel stood up with a light laugh, looking down at my mom. “Mrs. White, your precious daughter took a sum of money from me five years ago. Later, I asked her to leave Zachary.” “But now, your daughter has somehow managed to make Zachary keep looking for her.” “Tell me, who should I hold responsible for this?” My heart skipped a beat as I remembered something. In the fifth year of my relationship with Zachary, Rachel somehow learned that Zachary was from a wealthy family. She cornered me on my way home. “You’ve done well, but now I’m interested in Zachary again. You can get lost,” she said, still smiling beautifully, her voice gentle, but her actions contrasted sharply with her tone. She held a knife to my face, forcing me to look at her. I swallowed hard. “No, I have feelings for him now. I’ll try to pay back the money you gave me back then.” She laughed softly, signaling the group of men behind her to come and strip my clothes. As I struggled and resisted, she said: “It doesn’t matter if you’re unwilling. I’ll go tell him that you only got together with him for my money.” “Guess whether he’d want to stay with a gold-digger like you who’s about to die?” I immediately deflated, returning home in a daze. When I got back, I broke up with Zachary. He thought I was just in a bad mood and tried to comfort me as usual. I turned away, trying hard not to let him see my tears about to fall, and said harshly: “I’m done playing now. You can get lost.” “Someone else is pursuing me now, saying he can give me a good life.” Zachary was silent for a long time, seemingly trying to discern the truth in my words. “Lily, I can give you a good life too…” he said finally. Fighting the pain in my heart, I mocked him: “No matter how capable you are, you can’t compare to those rich kids, even if you work hard for ten or twenty years.” “Zachary, I’ve had enough of being poor with you these past few years. Stop disgusting me.” The light in Zachary’s eyes went out, filled with tears. He moved out that day, leaving the basement we had called home. Later, my illness worsened, and I could only hear about him from others. I heard that Zachary had returned to his family and become the young master of the Thompson family. I was genuinely happy for him. Then I heard that Zachary had developed leukemia. I cried on my hospital bed when I heard the news. That day, I searched online for a long time and found out that Zachary’s illness could be cured with a bone marrow transplant. “He’s just about to start living a good life, how can he die like this?” I thought. So I donated my bone marrow to him. I hoped he could live well on my behalf.

With a loud crash that I couldn’t stop in time, Rachel knocked over the basket in front of my mom. “What are you doing!” My mom grabbed Rachel’s hand. “Rachel, why are you here?” A male voice came from behind her. Rachel’s expression changed, and she rushed into Zachary’s arms. “Zachary, I just missed Lily a bit. But when I mentioned her, Mrs. White tried to hit me,” Rachel said, raising her wrist with a red mark, her eyes brimming with tears. Zachary looked at the mark, then raised his eyes to stare at my mom, his gaze cold and terrifying. “Mrs. White, it seems you didn’t take my words to heart last time,” Zachary said coldly to the men in black behind him, “Since Lily still won’t come out, smash everything in Lily’s room.” My mom shouted at Zachary, “No! You can’t smash anything!” But Zachary’s men moved quickly, rushing into my room. The first thing they smashed was the photo frame on the bedside table. The glass frame made a crisp sound as it shattered on the floor. My mom ran over, disregarding the glass shards, picked up the photo inside, and held it to her chest. “Take her away!” Zachary ordered. I watched helplessly as two burly men dragged my mom away. She clutched my photo, sobbing, her hands bloodied and mixed with glass shards, staining the person in the photo red. “Lily… my Lily, I’ve dirtied Lily’s photo.” The dull pain in my chest turned into a sharp knife twisting inside, making it hard to breathe. I never liked taking photos before, and even less so after I got sick and looked sickly. The only photo was placed by my mom on the bedside table, wiped clean over and over again. “Is this Lily? Let me see,” Rachel said, seeing my mom crying heartbrokenly while hugging the photo, she snatched it from her arms. “Give me back Lily’s photo!” My usually gentle mom lunged at Rachel, trying to grab the photo back, but was pushed to the ground by a large hand. My mom fell onto the glass-covered floor, her arms becoming a bloody mess. But she paid no attention to this, crying loudly, trying to pick up the photo that Rachel was now stepping on. “The crying is so annoying. Even after all this, Lily still won’t show up?” Zachary said, his face full of hatred and disgust as he grabbed the photo my mom had just picked up, tearing it into pieces in a matter of seconds. My mom’s cries stopped. She watched the photo pieces flutter down, trying to grab them but failing. “Lily’s photo is gone, the only photo of Lily is gone…” I crouched powerlessly beside my mom, not knowing whether to regret falling in love with someone like Zachary, Or to hate myself for not leaving more photos for my mom when I was alive. Zachary frowned, kicking the pieces on the ground further away, saying: “It’s just a photo, what’s the big deal? Is Lily dead and can’t take any more photos? Why are you crying like it’s a funeral?” My mom looked up with bloodshot eyes, screaming hysterically at Zachary: “This was the only photo of Lily!” Zachary lit a cigarette, snorting lightly, “I forgot, you’re Lily’s mother. Her gold-digging must be inherited from you.” “Tell me, how much money do you want for a photo?” He blew a smoke ring in my mom’s face, making her cough. “Tell Lily to come out now and kneel before me. I’ll compensate double for whatever damage was done to your house.” Zachary said, then seemed to think of something else. He took a drag of his cigarette and smirked. “Money is the least of my concerns now. If Lily performs well, I might even consider keeping her as my mistress.” I stood by, my fingers digging into my palms in anger. I never imagined Zachary would become so obsessed. Three years ago, I used his lack of money as an excuse. Three years later, he wants to buy my dignity with money in front of my mom. But I’m already dead, Zachary. “Zachary! How can you do this to Lily?!” My mom’s voice was hoarse from crying, her face filled with grief and anger. “How am I wronging her?! She wronged me three years ago when she left me at my most desperate moment!” “If it wasn’t for a kind-hearted person donating bone marrow to me, I would have died!” “She went off to enjoy life with rich men, all of this is a debt Lily owes me!” Zachary’s expression was almost distorted as he spat out his hatred for me through gritted teeth. “Lily is gone, she’s gone…” my mom said, her voice barely a whisper.

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I had been in a relationship with Adam Walker for seven years. Whenever a girl clung to him, he would give me a diamond ring to prevent any misunderstandings. Over the years, my jewelry box was filled with various diamond rings he had collected from around the world. Each one was priceless and unique, sparkling brilliantly under the light. A few days ago, he once again slipped a 6-carat pink diamond onto my finger. I knew he had spent $13 million to have it custom-made. Looking at that shimmering pink stone, I smiled self-mockingly: “Adam, let’s break up.” Adam had just returned home after closing a deal in New York when he slipped a diamond ring onto my left ring finger. A 6-carat pink diamond. It was a limited edition high-end custom piece, worth $13 million – an astronomical sum. But my stomach churned, and I felt sick. I took out the anti-inflammatory medication prescribed by my doctor and swallowed two pills. Adam placed the back of his hand on my forehead, his tone worried: “Are you sick?” “Didn’t we agree to go to the concert a few days ago? I’ll book the tickets right away. Once you’re feeling better, I’ll go with you.” I shook off his hand. “Forget it.” “But that’s their final concert, there won’t be any more after this.” I had planned for this concert a year in advance, told him the date, and he had promised to accompany me. But on the day of departure, he said he had to go negotiate a business deal and couldn’t make it. Adam’s brows furrowed, his face full of guilt. “I’m sorry, I really know I was wrong. I promised you something and couldn’t follow through. But this project was hard-won by our partners, I had no choice but to go.” We had been dating for seven years, and everyone thought he cherished me like a precious gem. He was particularly mindful of my feelings. Every time, whether it was his fault or not, he would be the first to soften and apologize. His remorse often made me wonder if I was being too harsh. “Olivia, I’ll buy you their collector’s edition CD right now. Don’t be angry, okay? Whatever you want me to do in the future, I’ll agree to it.” Just as he finished speaking, someone sent him a text message. He went to the kitchen to get some food, and took the opportunity to reply to the message while there. When he came out, his expression wasn’t quite natural. “Our partners have come to inspect the project site, I need to receive them personally.” I tugged at the hem of his shirt. “The CEO loves lotus pastries, so I brought some you made for him in the kitchen. It’s a gesture of hospitality. Be good, wait for me to come back.” With that, he went to the bedroom to change into a suit and sprayed on some fresh cologne. I couldn’t find any traces in his phone left on the coffee table. All chat records from every app had been thoroughly deleted. It seemed like I was being overly suspicious. But in his private TikTok collection, I saw a beautiful and delicate girl. Her smile was like a coquettish cat, her eyes sparkled like stars, as beautiful as the deepest flame in the dark night, with features similar to mine. The first few videos on her profile were all shot in New York. In her videos, she was tightly holding a hand wearing the same couple’s ring as mine. In her pinned video, she was wearing the pink diamond ring Adam had given me, and wrote: [Pink diamonds are too tacky, I asked my darling to throw it away and buy me my favorite blue Heart of the Ocean instead. Holidays should be spent with the man you love most. Love you.] I recorded the video with my phone and sent it to my best friend, then deleted all viewing records. Before he came out of the bedroom, I put his phone back in its original position and placed his polished leather shoes by the entrance. Another diamond ring was added to my jewelry box.

Whenever he attracted bees and butterflies, with girls pursuing Adam, he would be afraid I’d misunderstand and search for all kinds of exquisite diamond rings to give me. He told me that I was his girlfriend of many years, and although he hadn’t done anything wrong, he only wanted to reassure me and make me understand that I was the only one in his heart. He loved me, and it was something that all the money in the world couldn’t compare to. He hoped to buy me all the most precious diamond rings in the world to make me happy. The large jewelry box was filled with 136 diamond rings. Seven years, and I never imagined he had been afraid of my misunderstanding 136 times. As I was lost in thoughts of the past, my best friend immediately called me on video chat. Adam hadn’t gone out for business at all, he was just in the underground parking lot of my apartment complex. Soon, he strode with long legs towards the girl from the TikTok video. The girl jumped with joy, smiling radiantly as she threw herself into his arms. He lovingly lifted her chin and leaned in for a passionate kiss. In the dim parking lot, the light cast a hazy glow. The handsome man and beautiful woman embraced silently, as if time had frozen in that moment. She stood gracefully, her long hair cascading down her shoulders like a waterfall, her eyes as clear as autumn water, her luscious lips slightly parted. If he wasn’t my boyfriend, I would have thought they made a perfect match. After lingering for a long time, Adam finally let her go reluctantly and pulled out a red jewelry box from his pocket. “You said you like gold jewelry, I brought this especially for you. You’ll definitely be surprised.” “Thank you, the company team building event tomorrow night is so important. I wonder if I can wear it there?” The girl tentatively probed. “Of course.” Adam stood tall and straight as a pine tree, his deep eyes full of tenderness. “Just don’t damage it, this is only borrowed. After the banquet is over, I have to return it to Olivia Thompson.” My breath caught in my throat. I did indeed have a lot of gold jewelry, and I couldn’t tell which piece he had taken. The girl leaned into his arms and began to act coquettishly. “I understand, you don’t need to remind me all the time.” She clung to Adam’s arm as they entered the elevator, her voice soft and sweet: “Adam, I don’t know why my chest has been feeling uncomfortable lately. When we get upstairs, you must help me check what’s wrong.” They took the elevator up. My friend walked to the elevator and started recording the floor numbers. The elevator stopped on the 8th floor, while my apartment was on the 9th floor. By the time she climbed the stairs to the 8th floor, she could only hear the sound of keys turning in the lock outside, but couldn’t capture any images of people. “Adam, is it because your girlfriend doesn’t cool you down enough, so every time you see me, you’re so eager…” An ambiguous atmosphere lingered in the air. Adam let out a muffled groan, tinged with displeasure. “Chloe Davis!” The girl panted heavily: “Okay, I get it, can’t talk bad about her behind her back, right…” Urgent gasps echoed throughout the hallway, but ceased abruptly the moment the door closed. My friend didn’t have a key, so naturally couldn’t go in, and could only wait outside the door for my response. My face was pale, and my hand holding the phone trembled uncontrollably. “Olivia, do you want to wait until they come out and see where the girl lives?” “No need, it was too dark in the parking lot earlier, I couldn’t see clearly what style of gold necklace it was. Did you take any photos or anything?” “I did, but the girl put it away, so I didn’t capture the gold necklace.” My heart clenched painfully, and hot tears slid down the corners of my eyes as I curled up tightly on the sofa. Chloe Davis. There was a time when Adam wouldn’t allow anyone to mention her name.

Adam’s good friend told me that he once had a deeply loved soulmate named Chloe Davis. She was gentle and virtuous, but for some reason, Adam’s mother strongly disliked Chloe and wouldn’t allow them to be together. Eight years ago, Chloe’s father forced her to marry the CEO of a well-known company in Paris. During the wedding, Adam’s mother saw Chloe crying her eyes out in Adam’s arms in the rest room, their clothes disheveled. Chloe even said that as long as Adam’s mother agreed, she would immediately cancel the engagement and elope with Adam. Adam’s mother was furious and drove her son home, forbidding him from seeing Chloe again. Chloe settled abroad, got married and had children. Adam was in a daze for an entire year, and only managed to heal his wounded heart after seeing me, whose appearance was similar to Chloe’s. Ironically, it wasn’t until this moment that I realized I was nothing more than a substitute for Chloe. Now that the real deal had appeared, wasn’t it time for me to gracefully exit? I held the pink diamond up to the sunlight and examined it again and again. Such a precious diamond ring was indeed worthy of Chloe. When Adam returned to my bedroom late at night, he thought I was asleep. The strong smell of alcohol stung my nostrils, followed by the sound of his snoring. His phone was on silent, but the screen lit up again and again with several incoming messages. Scrolling to the top, Chloe asked how he was doing and suggested he sleep at her place if he was drunk. Adam: [Absence makes the heart grow fonder, it’s better if you keep thinking about me.] Chloe: [So tell me clearly, do you want me to think about you as a person, or think about your body?] [Both. Tomorrow night’s company team building event, I’ll take you to see the empire I’ve built for you.] Bitterness welled up in my heart. Two weeks ago, Adam told me about the company team building event and said he would take me along to introduce me to the employees as the future boss’s wife. But yesterday he said the team building event was canceled. In fact, the event was still happening, he just didn’t want to go with me. Their team building location was set at a luxurious KTV on Flower Stream Road, and I arrived as scheduled. The company had been established for two years with numerous employees, but none of them had truly met me before. Adam entered amidst cheers, reluctant to let go of the shy Chloe’s hand beside him. Her chestnut-colored hair cascaded down her back like seaweed, her fair skin glowed even more radiantly under the lights, her delicate features were exquisitely beautiful, and the teardrop mole at the corner of her eye gave her an air of cold allure. Paired with that exquisite gold necklace, she exuded an aura of nobility. The employees whispered among themselves, all discussing how beautiful the future boss’s wife was. I couldn’t help but approach as well. In the dim lighting, no one paid attention to me in my black formal dress. The moment I clearly saw the necklace around her neck, my pupils constricted sharply. That was… my mother’s keepsake! I rushed forward in one swift motion, throwing my drink directly in Chloe’s face. Before she could react, I kicked her to the ground. “Who gave you the guts to steal my necklace? Take it off and give it back to me right now!”

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Eight years of marriage, and my wife had threatened divorce 99 times. I thought she was just throwing tantrums to test me. Until I discovered that for eight consecutive years, she had been transferring $520,000 annually to another man. Note: In Chinese, 520 sounds similar to “I love you,” making this amount symbolically significant. When she threatened divorce for the 100th time, I signed the divorce papers and withdrew my investment from her company. I shifted my business focus overseas and vanished from her world like I had evaporated into thin air. But she went crazy, searching for me all over the world. For eight years, I had quietly invested in my wife’s wedding planning company, providing her with financial support. With the contract expiring in two days, I sat with my fists clenched, contemplating whether to continue investing. My wife had already threatened divorce 99 times. I had always thought it was because I was too busy with work and didn’t spend enough time with her, which made her angry. But today I found the reason: for the past eight years, she had been transferring $520,000 annually to a man named Ethan. Ethan was a new employee at my company, and this information was discovered during his background check. My chest felt tight and congested. I gave my wife $600,000 every year for her to spend as she pleased. But I never imagined she would give $520,000 of it to another man. My assistant gave me a video recording. When the investigator asked Ethan about the person transferring the money, Ethan smiled shyly and bashfully: “A female friend.” The investigator immediately understood, his face full of envy, and eagerly asked: “Is she pursuing you? Will you accept her advances? Will you marry her?” Ethan avoided answering this question directly, instead smiling faintly and talking about something else: “For the past few years, I’ve been studying and living abroad. She comes to spend a month with me every July and December.” “She also prepares many surprises and small gifts for me, like a designer watch, a tie, or a bottle of cologne…” My heart felt like it was blocked by a huge stone, oppressed and suffocating. Every July and December, my wife would go on overseas trips, not allowing me to go with her or contact her, saying she needed to clear her mind. I thought it was because her work pressure was too high, so I silently endured the pain of missing her. Now it seems she was going abroad to be with another man. Looking at the watch Ethan wore in the video, wasn’t it the one I had lost? Over these eight years, every time my wife went on a trip, I would lose something. Sometimes it was a suit, sometimes a tie, sometimes cologne… I always thought I was just too preoccupied with missing my wife, leading me to be absent-minded and careless after she left. Because of this, I specially wrote her a handwritten letter every day expressing my longing, personally made the chocolate she loved, and even learned to cook, just to get through that long and unbearable month. But I never imagined it wasn’t that I was careless, but that she was giving my things away to someone else. Soon after, I received a text message from my wife: “Let’s get divorced. My wedding planning company is growing bigger, and I’m really busy every day. I don’t want to waste time on relationships anymore.” This was the 100th time she had mentioned divorce to me.

On the second day after our wedding, my wife cried to me about how difficult work was, so I voluntarily offered to give her $600,000 every year. But on the third day of our marriage, she printed out a divorce agreement: “Jack, if you’re insulting me with money, why don’t I just sign this divorce agreement now? You can sign it whenever you want!” With that, she quickly signed her name in two or three strokes. I felt suddenly panicked, constantly coaxing her, begging her, apologizing to her, even kneeling before her and slapping my own face. As I was breaking down, scratching my head and at a loss, she cried and hit me a few times, then broke into a smile through her tears: “Alright, I’ll forgive you then.” After that, I became even more cautious around her. When she wanted to start her own business, I secretly injected capital. But now, she felt her wings had grown strong, that she was a powerful career woman, and increasingly looked down on me, whom she considered a “nouveau riche.” Since the beginning of this year, she had frequently mentioned divorce. In just half a year, she had brought it up 99 times. Seeing the divorce text she sent, and thinking about the annual $520,000 transfers, the two months she disappeared each year, my mysteriously missing items, the divorce agreement signed eight years in advance… A chill ran down my spine. She had too many secrets. Just as I was about to turn off my phone, my wife called. The other end of the line was noisy, as if they were playing a dare game at an entertainment venue. This call was probably dialed by accident. “Sarah and Ethan, drink from intertwined arms!” “Your lips have to touch!” “Carry her like a princess, lock them in the dark room, don’t come out for at least an hour. Hope you two fulfill your years-long dream.” After a while, an unfamiliar female voice came from the other end: “Who’s 1874? Probably a telemarketer, oh well, hang up!” Then the call was disconnected. My heart ached. She had saved my contact as my phone number “1874”. Looking at the prominent four words on my phone screen: “Darling Wife”, I felt it was ironic. There was a lot of work, and I wanted to stay up late to finish it, but I really wasn’t in the mood, so I went home. After opening the door, I searched for a long time but couldn’t find my slippers, so I walked to the sofa in my leather shoes. At this moment, looking around, all of my things in the house were gone. As I was puzzled, my wife came out of the bedroom. She was startled when she saw me. Last week she had said to me: “I’m too tired of being with an unemployed loser like you. I need a husband who can support my career. But you? You’re out gallivanting all day, then come home to do laundry and cook. Can’t you find a decent job and work hard?” When I retorted, telling her I was the CEO of the Smith Group, she just mocked me: “Even dreams should have limits! You’re not making any progress, and your money will be squandered sooner or later. In a couple of years, you’ll be relying on me for food.” She had seen me drinking with clients in private rooms too many times, so she automatically imagined me as a wastrel. “The $600,000 a year was something you voluntarily gave me. You don’t need to give it anymore starting this year. But if you’re going to hold this over me for the rest of my life because of it, I’d rather return the money to you now.” She said she needed some space, so she kicked me out: “Go stay somewhere else for a week, let me have some peace and quiet!”

A week later, I returned home. But it seemed she hadn’t expected me to come back tonight. Just as I was about to get up to take a shower, a man came out of the bathroom wearing my bathrobe. I immediately recognized him. He was Ethan, the man my wife had been transferring money to for eight years. Seeing this, Sarah hurriedly pushed me away and explained to Ethan: “He’s the male housekeeper I hired. He’s used to being casual around my house, don’t mind him!” She then pulled me to the sofa and pushed me to sit down. The words I was about to say got stuck in my throat. She brought a man home and actually said I was the housekeeper. Just as I was about to speak, she sat down next to me and made a pleading gesture, whispering: “He’s my client. If I can keep him happy, I’ll land a big deal. It’s not easy for a woman to start a business, and you’ve never been able to help me with anything. I’m begging you this time.” “He just got his clothes dirty earlier, so he’s only borrowing our shower. Don’t overthink it.” “Everyone in the industry thinks I’m single. I can’t suddenly reveal that I have a husband.” Her three sentences were so seamless and watertight that they completely blocked whatever I was about to say. If I were to question further, it would make me look inconsiderate. I lowered my head to deal with some urgent company matters. Ethan walked over and sat down beside me, speaking to me with the air of a master: “These days, it’s rare to see a man living off a woman’s money, Mr. Housekeeper.” Saying this, he handed me a business card, his eyes filled with mockery: “I’m Ethan from the technology development department of Smith Group.” Sarah looked at him with adoration, as if he were a deity. Neither of them knew that I was the CEO of Smith Group at this point. Ethan because he was new and hadn’t had time to find out. Sarah because she had always focused only on her own affairs, disdaining to learn about me, only thinking of me as the nouveau riche who had won a $100 million lottery eight years ago. Seeing that I remained expressionless and didn’t want to take Ethan’s card, Sarah exploded in anger: “A housekeeper being offered a business card is a courtesy. How dare you act so arrogant?” “There’s nothing that needs cleaning in my house today, you can leave now!” Sarah said, pushing me towards the door, then handed me a bag of trash: “Take the garbage out when you go!” I clearly saw that there were two used condoms in the trash bag. I was furious and wanted to rush up and slap these two cheating dogs. Just then, Ethan picked up a pocket watch from the table: “This watch must be quite valuable, right?” This pocket watch was left to me by my mother, her only keepsake. I often cried while looking at it. I polished that pocket watch many times every day, and would be heartbroken if it got even slightly scratched. Sarah knew this.

But she only glanced at me awkwardly, lasting only half a second. Then she walked over to Ethan with a smile and replied: “Do you like it? Then I’ll give it to you. It’s of no use to me anyway.” As Ethan was about to put it in his bag, I couldn’t bear it any longer. I quickly walked up to him, snatched the watch, then raised my fist and punched him in the face. After that, I stormed out without looking back. I didn’t want to stay in this house for another minute. As I slammed the door shut, I heard Sarah comforting Ethan: “You must have noticed that this male housekeeper likes me, so he doesn’t want to see me giving you things.” “It’s all my fault for spoiling him too much. I’ll definitely fire him tomorrow!” Angrily returning to my office, I received a call from Sarah: “Jack, how can you be so petty? It’s just a watch. Did you have to make my client angry? Do you know he works for Smith Group?” “You broke nouveau riche, do you even know what Smith Group is? The people working there are all elites. Why did you have to offend him of all people? I had to spend two hours appeasing him so his company wouldn’t cancel their cooperation with me.” In the past, I would have definitely lowered my head and apologized, whether it was my fault or not. But now, I let out a cold laugh. I didn’t know when my company had decided to cooperate with Sarah’s company. No, there was. I suddenly remembered the contract that was about to expire in a day. I made a call to my assistant: “Stop the investment in Sarah’s company. I’ll personally handle the negotiations tomorrow!” “Starting now, consolidate and reduce the group’s domestic operations, and shift the focus overseas.” The core of Smith Group’s business was originally overseas, but because I wanted to be with Sarah, I forcibly shifted operations to the domestic market eight years ago. Now, I’ve decided to develop abroad and disappear from Sarah’s world forever. Sarah sent me another text message: “Let’s get divorced. I’m tired.” This time, I didn’t try to salvage anything, only replying with a single word: “Okay.” The next morning when I woke up, it was already 8 o’clock. As I got up, I heard a commotion outside. Opening the office door and looking down, I saw a woman in a wedding dress proposing to a man. I had already lost faith in relationships, so I just glanced briefly, intending to turn back to my office. But as I turned, I heard Sarah’s voice. The CEO’s office was on the 31st floor, Ethan was on the 29th floor, and the three floors were connected internally. Although it was a bit far, I could still hear clearly. Looking back, I saw Sarah in a white wedding dress, kneeling on one knee, holding out a ring to Ethan: “Will you marry me?”

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On our wedding day, Alexander’s ex-girlfriend sent him a notice that she was critically ill. She said she just wanted to wear a wedding dress one last time before she died. To fulfill her wish, Alexander locked me in the dressing room and prepared to hold the wedding ceremony with her. Through the door, his impatient voice rang out. “Can’t you be less cold-hearted? She’s dying. What’s wrong with letting her have this moment?” Later, the boy next door who had a crush on me for years climbed to the rooftop and begged me to marry him instead. Alexander, with reddened eyes, pleaded with me, “Are you going to throw away our seven years of love for him?” I brushed his hand away, “What else can we do, let him die? It’s just getting a marriage license. Don’t be so cold-hearted.” There was still an hour before the wedding ceremony was set to begin. I sat at the makeup table, looking at the photo Alexander’s ex-girlfriend had sent to my phone. In the picture, she was wearing the wedding dress I had chosen, smiling as she clung to Alexander’s arm. Alexander was looking down at her, his eyes full of tenderness. She sent a message saying: [He said I look better in this dress than you would.] She also said: [If you want your wedding ceremony to go smoothly, beg me.] I turned off my phone and asked the makeup artist, “Is it really because the size was altered incorrectly that I can’t wear the wedding dress we originally decided on?” The bridal shop I had chosen was also responsible for my makeup and photography. To ensure everything would look perfect on the wedding day, I had spent a lot of money and had numerous discussions with their team. But now, the makeup artist couldn’t even look me in the eye. I knew what was going on. I thought about how when Alexander accompanied me to try on wedding dresses, he was either answering phone calls or working on his laptop. But with his ex-girlfriend, he was all smiles. I gripped my phone tightly and took a deep breath. “Please ask Alexander to come here.” I needed an explanation. The makeup artist’s assistant went to call him. I looked at my reflection in the mirror, at the overly tight bodice that made it hard to breathe. Perhaps clothes that don’t fit should never have been put on in the first place. The wedding officiant arrived before Alexander did. His face showed the same guilt, along with a hint of apology. “I’m sorry, Miss Amelia, but you won’t need to attend.” “Won’t need to attend?” I almost laughed in anger. “Are you telling me that at my own wedding, I, the bride, can’t show up? Is that what you mean?” The officiant opened his mouth to explain, but Alexander walked in. He said, “It was my idea.” Alexander was wearing the white suit I had chosen for him, but the bowtie at his collar wasn’t the one I had picked out. Seeing my gaze fixed on his bowtie, he looked uncomfortable and cleared his throat. “Sophia is having surgery in a few days. The hospital has given her a critical condition notice. She said her only wish is to wear a wedding dress once.” I laughed coldly, “At my wedding to you?” I knew about Sophia. It wasn’t until the third year of my relationship with Alexander that I learned he had an ex-girlfriend who had lost all her hair due to chemotherapy. They had grown up together, and their families were close. Even after breaking up, they couldn’t completely cut ties. Because she was receiving treatment in another city, Sophia’s parents had asked Alexander, who lived in the same city as us, to take care of her. At first, I respected and sympathized with her, feeling sorry that a young woman in the prime of her life had to suffer from illness. But from the moment she started making Alexander deliver porridge to her in the middle of the night after our dates, my impression of her took a sharp downturn. Time and again, I held back because she was ill. Alexander also seemed to understand the boundaries and always put my wishes first. Whenever Sophia asked him to do something, he would report it to me. Only occasionally, when the situation was truly urgent, would he go to her, and he would bring me along. Until today. When did Alexander try on wedding dresses with her? And when did he decide to give her the wedding dress I had chosen, letting her take my place in the wedding ceremony?

Perhaps it was because the air conditioning in the dressing room was too strong, but the more I thought about it, the colder I felt to my bones. Alexander reached out to hold my hand, but I shook him off. I looked up at him steadily: “Bring the wedding dress back. I don’t want her to wear it.” Alexander frowned: “Stop making a fuss, Amelia. It’s just a ceremony. We can have another one anytime.” His downturned lips and the irritation in his eyes hurt me. I said, “Fine, let the wedding dress go. But if she wants to hold a wedding ceremony, does the groom have to be you?” Was it her being unreasonable and making demands because of her serious illness, or were you already drifting in our relationship and just taking the easy way out? Perhaps because I had exposed him, hitting a nerve, his face turned ugly. Alexander let go of me and walked towards the door, throwing words back at me. “Dating you has become so tiresome. You never consider my face, always making a scene until everyone looks bad.” Am I the one not considering his face? Am I the one making unreasonable demands? The sound of the door locking brought me back to reality. I picked up my skirt and banged on the door hard: “I don’t agree. The wedding I’ve been carefully preparing and looking forward to for so long is not just a ceremony…” Through the door, his impatient voice rang out. “Can’t you be less cold-hearted? She’s dying. What’s wrong with letting her have this moment?” She’s dying. Just because she’s sick, I’ve been tolerating so much for years, and now I have to give up my own wedding and husband. But am I the one who made her sick? I gripped the doorknob and calmed down: “Alexander, think carefully. Don’t regret this.” There was a pause in the voice outside the door, then the sound of determined footsteps fading away. I slid down to the floor, hugging the exaggerated skirt, feeling completely empty inside. She really ruined my wedding. Sophia had done it. The phone on the makeup table started ringing urgently. It was a call from my parents. Before I could answer, the call ended. The dressing room was right behind the main hall, separated by just a door. I could clearly hear the commotion from the hall, exclamations of shock and unrest. Then, guided by the officiant, there was applause. Sophia’s account sent me another video. The camera was pointed at the big screen, where all the pre-wedding photos of Alexander and me that we had put so much effort into had been AI-replaced with Sophia’s face. All those days of enduring the hot sun for makeup, the aching backs and feet, the hours of adjusting poses for aesthetics, had all become Sophia’s trousseau. This made me even angrier than Alexander’s words. Even though I was shaking with anger, my hand still opened the next video. In the video, she was walking towards Alexander, step by step under the spotlight. In the shadows behind her, my parents were looking around for me with upset expressions, but were being held back by two security guards. Seeing this, I finally couldn’t hold back my tears, which fell drop by drop onto my parents’ faces on the phone screen. I had chosen the wrong person. Why did I have to involve my parents in this humiliation along with me? I didn’t watch the rest of the videos. In the midst of the excitement on the other side of the wall, my mind gradually cleared. After studying myself in the mirror for a long time, I took off the ill-fitting wedding dress, removed my makeup, and changed back into my previous clothes. I could only feel grateful. At least I had seen clearly before getting the marriage certificate.

The long ceremony finally ended. The door to the dressing room was opened, and Alexander stood in the doorway. He rubbed his brow, looking quite drained: “I’ll make it up to you for this incident, and I’ll also go to explain to your parents…” I interrupted him: “No need. They’re my parents, not yours.” They have nothing to do with you, so there’s no need. He was stunned. Alexander looked exhausted: “Don’t say things out of anger. You know Sophia is also suffering from her illness. What’s wrong with us letting her have her way?” Even now, he still thought there was nothing wrong with this, still speaking up for Sophia. For a moment, I didn’t know what else I could say to him. I said: “If you think it’s just anger talking, then let it be. I’ll pack my things and move out today. I’ll have someone sell the marital home. If you don’t want to sell it, just transfer the money my family put in back to my account.” After saying this, I saw my parents standing not far away and hurriedly chased after them, leaving behind a “That’s all.” There were many relatives gathered around my parents. As I rushed over, I heard someone say, “How could she be dumped like this?” My second aunt was still lecturing, “It’s not good for a girl to be too strong-willed. Changing brides on the wedding day, what a loss of face.” I pulled my parents away, feeling heartbroken at the embarrassment on their faces. Not caring that my second aunt was my elder, I retorted. “Are you my second aunt or Alexander’s? His last-minute change shows his lack of responsibility and trustworthiness. His failure to discuss it with me shows his self-centeredness and disrespect for me. What does this have to do with whether I’m strong-willed or not? If I had known even a day earlier, today’s groom wouldn’t have been him!” My second aunt was left speechless and walked away muttering. Mom held my hand, and I could clearly see the worry on her face. I comforted her: “It’s okay. If we don’t get married, we don’t get married. I don’t care about it anyway.” After sending them off in their car, I went alone to pack my things at what was supposed to be our marital home. My words were clear, and my mind was very rational. But emotions can’t be controlled. Why do the tears keep falling on their own… The marital home was decorated by Alexander and me together. There were too many traces of him inside. The ceramic pot was something he bought after learning about my menstrual pain, saying he would make nourishing soup for me every week. The walk-in closet was designed by him after seeing me like a high-heel carousel on TikTok. After it was installed, I laughed that the colored lights he put in were too flashy, but he just hugged my waist and asked for a reward. I met him in college, and then we were in a long-distance relationship for a year because of work. At that time, he put in a lot of effort to pursue me. When he confessed, he said he saw me debating fiercely in a competition, looking very impressive. At that time, in his eyes, I was shining brightly. But now he complains that I’m too strong-willed. The light in his eyes has become painful to him. I packed up my things bit by bit, gradually extracting myself from the memories. When I finished packing, I realized that our seven years together amounted to just a box and a half tall. I was just wondering how to drag this box out and throw it away when the door was pushed open. My best friend, Olivia, rushed in like a whirlwind. Seeing her, the strength I had been putting on completely crumbled, and my nose stung unbearably. Olivia gave me a hug, squeezing me tightly, “If I had known, I would have been your bridesmaid. At least you wouldn’t have been so helpless.” She had disliked Alexander for a long time, hating his indecisiveness and inability to let go of his ex-girlfriend. She disliked him so much that she didn’t want to attend my wedding. She even said harshly that if I married him, I would definitely regret it. To put it bluntly, it was okay while Sophia was alive, but if Sophia died, how could I compete with a dead person? For this, she and I had a falling out. Now it seems she was right on the mark. I’m so grateful I can still have such a friend back. With Olivia around, the days weren’t so hard to get through. She had specifically applied for a business trip to avoid my wedding. But as soon as her plane landed, she heard about what had happened. Worried that I might be hiding alone crying, she rushed to find me. She even took annual leave to keep me company, which moved me deeply. The day she was bustling about trying to set me up with someone new, Alexander showed up at the door. I laughed coldly. When a scoundrel comes to the door, I have to properly shut the door and beat the dog!

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Six months ago, I signed the divorce papers. I wanted the money, not the son. My ex-husband Sebastian Quinn sneered, “I’m the best you’ll ever get.” “After the divorce, I can find someone new anytime, but you? You’ll just be a divorced woman no one wants!” Our son Liam Quinn rolled his eyes at me, “Good riddance. I want Aunt Scarlett to be my mom. You’re not worthy!” Half a year later, both father and son begged me to come back. They were certain I’d eventually soften and agree. Until I showed them my engagement ring: “Sorry, gentlemen, I’m getting married.” Not far away, a little girl ran into my arms. She called out sweetly, “Mommy!” I never expected to see Sebastian Quinn again. After the divorce, I returned to my hometown, while Sebastian and our son stayed in New York. The distance between us was a three-hour flight. Enough to never cross paths again in this lifetime. Until a business dinner, where the manager introduced me to a Mr. Quinn, supposedly one of the top 100 investors in the Northeast. I had imagined many possibilities. But I never thought that the always proud and arrogant Sebastian Quinn would stoop to discuss a project worth less than a million dollars. After we sat down, his inquiring gaze remained fixed on me. I calmly picked up my wine glass, smiling and cooperating with the manager’s negotiations. Sebastian didn’t say a word throughout. Until several business partners started pressuring me to drink: “Miss Hart, you’re full of hidden talents. You’ve only been in this industry for less than six months, and you’re already making a name for yourself.” “You won’t refuse this toast, will you?” … One glass after another, the liquor burned down my throat, making my stomach ache. Even the manager noticed something was wrong. He tried to intercept the drinks for me, but was skillfully brushed aside by the partners, leaving him helplessly worried. Until I could barely stand. I heard Sebastian’s displeased rebuke: “Enough! A bunch of grown men forcing drinks on a young woman, what does that look like?” “Are we still discussing this deal or not?” The middle-aged balding men finally put down their glasses, exchanging awkward glances and forced smiles. A wave of nausea hit me. I excused myself and hurried to the restroom. After throwing up violently in the stall, my stomach still cramping, I managed to support myself and walk out. A pack of tissues appeared from my left. I looked up to see Sebastian’s handsome profile hidden in the shadows, his eyes unreadable. His tone was concerned: “Amelia, after divorcing me, it seems you’re not doing well at all.” “If I hadn’t stepped in earlier, were you going to drink until you threw up?” At first glance, he seemed genuinely worried about me. I pushed his hand away, sneering, “Cut the act, Sebastian. Who do you think you’re fooling?” “I’ve dined with these partners before.” “One has high blood pressure, high blood sugar, and high cholesterol, another has fatty liver, and the third just had surgery. They rarely touch alcohol. Without your instructions, why would they suddenly force drinks on me?” “Swooping in to help after seeing me in distress, Sebastian, does this satisfy your male ego every time you do it?” It’s not that I’m being paranoid, but Sebastian had done exactly the same thing before. Before marrying him, I planned to pursue a career in mechanical engineering. After getting married, on my mentor’s recommendation, I got an interview opportunity for a job position. If things went well, I could even join a research institute in the future. At the time, I immediately shared this good news with Sebastian. However, after the interview, I heard nothing back. Not only that, but my usually caring mentor suddenly became very cold towards me. He wouldn’t answer my calls or reply to my messages. I was devastated and began to doubt myself. Had I messed up some part of the interview? Had the company not liked me, disappointing my mentor? Sebastian, on the other hand, comforted me: “Honey, they’re the ones without vision. They can’t appreciate your talents.” “If it doesn’t work out, you don’t need to work. I can support you.”

I was deeply touched at the time. However, I never gave up on my career aspirations. If one company didn’t work out, I’d try another. I was even willing to take on sales roles related to the mechanical industry. But my luck seemed terrible. I’d barely last three or four months before the company would lay me off, citing restructuring. I was caught in a vicious cycle. Countless times, I asked myself: Am I really such a failure? Later, I became pregnant with our son Liam. Severe morning sickness tormented me, and I had to get many injections at the hospital to prevent miscarriage. Even walking was a struggle. I had no choice but to rest at home. When my mentor’s 60th birthday came around, after much hesitation, I sent a congratulatory message and a gift. That night, I received a call from my mentor. On the other end, the old man was drunk but still audibly upset: “Amelia, all these years, I’ve felt both love and disappointment for you, my last student.” “You’ve always been ambitious. Why did you reject the job I arranged for you back then?” “Do you know how many favors I called in to get you that opportunity, and you just gave it up!” I was stunned. After some probing, I learned that I hadn’t been rejected at all. Someone had declined the offer in my name. My mentor thought it was my personal decision, and when he heard I got married, he was greatly disappointed. A flash of realization hit me, and I called my previous employers. Only then did I discover that the “me” from before had often inexplicably insulted colleagues, sent emails complaining about heavy workloads, and even reported company leaders. Who would dare to hire me? And the culprit behind all this was none other than Sebastian. I confronted him in tears. Sebastian, with his mistress in his arms, coldly replied: “Amelia, you should be grateful. I’ve let you stay at home and enjoy life all these years instead of working.” “Besides, you’re a woman. Why do you need such a strong career drive?” “Always out for work, not even able to take care of our son properly. What kind of image is that?” Our son Liam, whom I had carried for ten months, looked at me with contempt: “Mom, you’re being ungrateful.” “Even if you went out to work, you’d never be as successful as dad. Why not just be a good housewife?” Even my friends advised me: Sebastian was at the peak of his career, and it wouldn’t be wise to fall out with him. I should hold onto his heart tightly and not let this golden opportunity slip away. After all, I was just a housewife who hadn’t worked in years. Apart from relying on Sebastian, I had no other options. At that time, I was like a moth trapped in a spider’s web. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t break free.

After I exposed his true colors, Sebastian’s face darkened. He threw the tissues in his hand into the trash can, unable to hide his disappointment as he said, “Amelia, you’ve changed.” “You used to be gentle, considerate, and understanding. Now you’re sharp-tongued and vulgar.” I remained calm: “Mr. Quinn, if you flew all the way from New York just to criticize me,” “Please, feel free to continue.” I didn’t care much about his words and turned to leave. Sebastian reached out to stop me: “Today is our son’s birthday. He’s been asking to see you.” “You must come with me.” Thinking of that face so similar to Sebastian’s, with an identical personality, I felt disgusted and directly refused: “I’m busy!” “The divorce agreement was very clear. I don’t want custody of the son, but I send child support every month.” “Besides, didn’t he desperately want your mistress to be his mom?” “Why is he clinging to me now?” Sebastian lowered his voice and said, “Amelia, is a $500,000 project enough to buy your presence at our son’s birthday party?” I paused. For Sebastian, this dinner was just about an insignificant small project, not even worth a second glance. But the entire project team had been working on it for three months. They all hoped the negotiation would succeed, so they could use the bonus to pay off mortgages, fund their children’s education, pay for their parents’ medical bills… I couldn’t let them all down because of me. “Fine, I agree.” After sending the drunk manager and project team colleagues to their cars, I opened the door of the Porsche Cayenne. Sebastian drove personally. On the way, he kept trying to make conversation. From inquiring about my life to attempting to get my attention with talk of our son. Unfortunately, I had no interest. He talked, and I kept tapping away on my phone, sending messages. When we arrived at the villa. I had just gotten out of the car when a small figure rushed over, bumping into me painfully. “Mom, why did you make me wait so long?” It was my son, Liam Quinn. He was wearing a well-tailored suit, looking exactly like a miniature version of Sebastian. Ignoring the fact that I was wearing high heels, he dragged me into the living room. The interior was lavishly decorated: expensive 3D models, flashy ribbons, various toys, and luxury goods crammed into the corners… In the center of the coffee table in the living room sat an eight-inch mango cake. Everything was so familiar. I clenched my fists, my nails turning white, my body slightly trembling.

Sebastian walked up beside me, completely oblivious, even with a hint of nostalgia and a smile in his voice: “Do you notice? This is exactly how we decorated for Liam’s birthday a year ago, before we divorced.” “He still remembers every detail to this day.” “Amelia, you carried him for ten months. He loves you so much. Now that you’ve seen him, can you really bear to leave?” I could no longer contain my anger, and retorted word by word: “Why wouldn’t I be able to bear it?” “Sebastian, you should know very well that birthday party was a humiliation for me.” Five years into our marriage, Sebastian had taken up with a starlet. Her name was Scarlett Rose, strikingly beautiful, but with a carefully crafted public image of innocence. My husband Sebastian doted on her. He often brazenly brought Scarlett home, and upon seeing me, his eyes were filled with undisguised contempt: “Amelia, look at yourself. No figure, no ability, just a freeloader.” “Learn from Scarlett. She’s already an Oscar-winning actress at such a young age.” “I’m embarrassed to be seen with you in public.” Even our son Liam, whom I had carried for ten months and raised with care, preferred Scarlett. “Mom, why are you my mother?” “If dad’s wife was Scarlett Rose, I could brag to others that I have an Oscar-winning actress for a mom.” “But you’re just a housewife. When my classmates ask about you, I feel ashamed.” My heart was overwhelmed with helplessness. I wanted to defend myself but didn’t know where to begin. It was Sebastian who had completely destroyed my career opportunities. Yet he turned around and accused me of being a freeloader. I had carried Liam for ten months and devoted myself to him wholeheartedly. But I still couldn’t compare to Scarlett, who only saw him once a week. What finally made me determined to divorce was on Liam’s birthday a year ago. He rarely spoke to me gently: “Mom, all my friends have nice birthday parties. I want one too.” He pleaded with me. I immediately organized the entire birthday party. That evening, Liam invited all his classmates to our house, and Sebastian invited many business partners. Then Scarlett showed up. She brought a $20,000 Lego set as a gift and gracefully sat down next to Sebastian. Liam’s classmates were very envious and asked, “Liam, what’s your relationship with the famous Scarlett Rose? Why is she so nice to you?” At that moment, I was about to bring out the cake I had made myself. But I heard Liam’s clear voice answer, “Scarlett is my mom.” His classmates obviously didn’t believe him and pointed at me, saying, “She’s your mom.” Liam looked at me with disgust in his eyes: “No, she’s not my mom. She’s just our housekeeper.”

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For a moment, everyone in the room held their breath and turned to look at me. I smiled faintly. After a brief pause, I broke the silence. “Go on, don’t ruin the game’s atmosphere.” * On Lily’s birthday, the private room was filled with college classmates. I sat on the sofa, dressed in a crisp suit. My girlfriend, Lily, was singing a love song with her close male friend. “Jack, when are you going to marry our Lily?” her friend teased from the side. I was about to speak when I witnessed a scene I’ll never forget. My girlfriend and her best guy friend were locked in a tight embrace. “Kiss, kiss!” the college classmates cheered in unison. Their attention had been drawn to another event – Lily and Ryan’s game. Lily had lost, and the loser had to kiss the other person. This rule was, of course, suggested by Ryan. Ryan was Lily’s ex-boyfriend and her longtime crush. He had suddenly reappeared in recent years as her “best guy friend,” clearly with ulterior motives. “This… doesn’t seem right,” Lily feigned reluctance, but her eyes were full of anticipation as she looked at Ryan. Ryan returned her gaze with equal intensity. Their eyes met, filled with affection. “Come on, guys, don’t you see her boyfriend is here?” Ryan looked at me with a victorious smile. Everyone in the room held their breath and turned to look at me. With a smile on my face, I broke the silence: “Go on, don’t ruin the game’s atmosphere.” “Look at Jack, he’s so cool about it. That’s the kind of boyfriend you should have!” Lily’s friends, eager to stir up drama, cheered again. I couldn’t be bothered to watch them and drank alone. “He said he doesn’t mind, let’s continue,” Ryan said smugly. Lily, however, was somewhat shocked, unable to believe I had said those words. Then she became a bit angry, glaring at me: “Jack, I’ll deal with you when we get home!” Eventually, the two of them kissed passionately. “Wow!” The people around immediately began to cheer. My mind was in chaos, recalling everything that had happened in the past. The nervousness when I first confessed to her, the joy when she accepted me, the caution I took in our relationship. Her smile, her tears. They never truly belonged to me. What’s borrowed must eventually be returned. It’s just a pity about my two years of devotion. I sighed deeply, my eyes full of disappointment. I knew this was a moment Lily had been waiting for a long time. Lily, you must be very happy right now. The feeling of getting what you’ve always wanted must be nice. Just like when I successfully pursued you. Unfortunately, it’s all over now. A woman who doesn’t love me isn’t worth keeping. From that moment on, I made a decision in my heart. To take back all my love. “Jack, what’s wrong with you today!” my girlfriend pretended to be angry after the party. Indeed, she was still such a good actress. She had clearly crossed a line, yet she was pushing the responsibility onto me. In fact, she didn’t care about me now, even if she might have in the past. I had known this for a long time, I just didn’t want to believe it. During college, Lily was charming, lively, and cheerful. Her smile was enough to make anyone fall for her. She excelled in arts and literature, was the president of the dance club, had a perfect figure, and consistently ranked at the top of her class. Such a girl could be said to be flawless. She was proud, beautiful, talented, and pure. Suitors lined up for her, and I was one of them. From the first time I saw her in freshman year, I fell deeply in love with her at first sight. To make her notice me, I studied hard to improve my grades. I learned calligraphy and dance just to have common topics with her. I constantly kept track of Lily’s news, trying to impress her time and time again. I never stopped sending her bubble tea, snacks, and fruits. I gave her countless designer bags and necklaces. All I hoped for was for her to look at me once. But she returned all the gifts. Of course, how could the universally acknowledged campus goddess change her mind for a few gifts? She was so proud, and that’s exactly what I loved about her. But she didn’t even see me. At that time, she was confident and radiant, only interested in one person. That person was Ryan, the universally acknowledged campus heartthrob. During college, Ryan was handsome, academically outstanding, and represented the school in many competitions. He could sing and dance, and played the guitar well. Whenever he appeared at school events, he would inevitably draw screams from countless girls. He even had his own fan club called “The Wind Chasers.” With so many admirers, Ryan could be considered a campus celebrity. No wonder Lily was infatuated with him. One was the campus heartthrob, the other was the acknowledged talented beauty, they were indeed a perfect match. Lily persistently pursued her crush, and when Ryan broke up with his girlfriend, Lily seized the opportunity and made her move. Finally, on the first Valentine’s Day of sophomore year. Ryan accepted Lily’s confession. This golden couple, famous throughout the school, officially started dating. And I, holding a bouquet of flowers ready to confess to Lily, could only stand aside, heartbroken. Becoming a complete bystander. The news of campus heartthrob Ryan dating dance club beauty Lily quickly spread to every corner of the campus, becoming a beautiful story of college life. Unfortunately, good times didn’t last long. Although Ryan was good-looking, he was extremely flirtatious. He flirted around, and Lily soon found out. On her birthday, Lily cried her eyes out. She took the cake to the rooftop, where she happened to meet me studying for exams. I showed her great care and concern. Every day I was busy taking care of her, bringing her tea and water. Finally, I won the goddess’s approval. Lily became my girlfriend. At first, she was indifferent to me and wouldn’t allow me any intimate gestures; I didn’t force it, thinking at the time that being goddess Lily’s boyfriend was already very satisfying. I treated her like a treasure, loving her dearly. I cared for her meticulously, took her traveling to cheer her up, went out for meals and shopping. No matter how busy work was, I would always keep her informed. I came home on time every day to cook, treating her like a princess. Slowly, she started to accept me. She asked about my joys and sorrows, smiled at me, and even started to care about my preferences. I believe that during that time, she did love me. But love that comes from begging is ultimately hard to last. Nourished by love, I became even more motivated. I worked hard and strived to improve my performance. I wanted to buy our own marital home through my efforts, truly giving her a warm home. I even imagined countless times having a child with her in the future. A family of three, three meals a day, four seasons a year. Living happily together. Everything seemed so beautiful then. I felt like I was in a dream, but finally, one day, I woke up. Her prince charming had returned. Ryan mysteriously appeared in our city, in Lily’s life. On the street, they exchanged a glance. With just that one look, I knew Lily’s heart no longer belonged to me. But I still couldn’t let her go, couldn’t let go of these years of being together day and night. I could only deceive myself, maintaining this relationship that existed in name only by pretending to be deaf and blind. Gradually, she started coming home late and leaving early, exchanging flirtatious messages with Ryan, showing annoyance at my care, and dressing up meticulously. Looking at Lily in the mirror, I knew I had lost. We had been together for two years, and to please her, I had given her countless expensive pieces of jewelry, clothes, and bags. But she had never seriously dressed up for me, telling me we were family and didn’t need to care too much about appearances. Now I realize, she probably thought I wasn’t worthy. A woman dresses up for the one she loves, and I was clearly not that person. The only one she cared about was Ryan. I struggled on, unwilling to give up, telling myself she was just wavering, that if I was good enough, she would surely change her mind. Until that birthday party when she kissed Ryan. I knew then that it was time to wake up from my dream. That night when we got home, I ignored Lily. I walked straight to the living room and slept on the couch. “Bang!” A loud door slam echoed through the house. Lily was clearly angry. She didn’t understand why her number one admirer suddenly stopped admiring her. In fact, it was simply because I no longer loved her. Love is just like that. When I loved you, you were the flowers, the sea, the wind, the clouds, all the beauty in the world. When I no longer love you, you’re just you, with no relation to me. I slept soundly that night, free from the troubles of love, my mind suddenly became much clearer. It was the most peaceful sleep I’d had in a long time, not having to worry about Lily being unhappy, not having to endure her bad temper, not having to fear Ryan taking her away. I only needed to consider whether I was happy. The next morning when I woke up, Lily had prepared breakfast. At the table, she kept staring at me. I ate silently. The food she made was still terrible. Just because she said doing housework would age her quickly, I had taken on almost all the household chores over the years. She only focused on enjoying life and staying beautiful. Back then, I thought life was good and peaceful. Now thinking about it, it just seems ridiculous. “Jack, don’t you have anything to say to me?” Lily interrupted my thoughts. She couldn’t hold back anymore. She was the goddess, and in her view, the fact that she personally cooked for me was already a great favor. I should naturally be overjoyed and obediently follow her lead. Answer her question, and then beg for forgiveness. I knew she wanted to ask why I didn’t care yesterday. But none of it mattered anymore. I didn’t want to waste words. “The food is a bit salty.”

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