Right before the market crashed, I cashed out and moved to Thailand, my fortune already made. The financial news anchor, the one who prided himself on his market analysis, called me in a frenzy, demanding to know why I had bailed. My father called, screaming that I was an ungrateful bastard. But I was calm. “Everything is fate,” I told them. “We are but puppets on its strings.” In my past life, I was a top-tier financial analyst. I predicted a hot stock was about to plummet and immediately warned my friends. But they stormed my house, furious, telling me their investments were trapped, that some were even on the verge of suicide. I was stunned, completely lost as to what went wrong. A friend showed me a video. A beautiful financial news anchor had predicted the same crash an hour before I did. He showed me her other videos; her past predictions mirrored mine, beat for beat. My friends believed I had deceived them, ruined their lives. They ganged up on me, tore me to pieces, and fed me to the dogs. When I opened my eyes again, I was back, one week before the crash. 1 “Mr. Hayes is a true prodigy! Look at all the money he’s made us!” “Yeah, we owe him big time! We’re counting on you to make us even richer, Nathan!” … I blinked, and I was back in the bustling stock exchange. People were swarming me, showering me with compliments, all hoping I’d lead them to another windfall. But these were the same people who had been the death of me in my past life. They called me a once-in-a-century financial genius. Since college, I had studied investing, predicted market trends, and never made a bad call. Any company I invested in was instantly deemed a golden opportunity, and everyone would rush to buy in. I had always enjoyed helping my classmates make money; their joy was my joy. That’s why I became a financial analyst after graduation, to help even more people. My reputation grew, and soon, my presence alone could cause a stampede. But this time around, I finally understood the true nature of human greed. I always warned them, “Don’t put all your eggs in one basket. Know your limits.” I told them I wasn’t infallible. But they never listened. They would liquidate their savings, some even taking out high-interest loans to leverage their bets. In my past life, when I foresaw the crash, I told them to sell everything. An hour later, they were at my door, their faces contorted with rage. “A little late, don’t you think?” one of them snarled. “Anyone who could get out, got out. Your ‘tip’ came too late. We’re all trapped.” “Do you have any idea how much we’ve lost? Jim couldn’t pay back his loans. He jumped off a building this morning!” My college classmate, Mark, held up his phone, his voice dripping with venom. “He tricked us all! He’s no genius! Look at this anchor’s video. She called it an hour before he did. Nathan Hayes has been using his reputation to scam us, playing us for fools!” I was completely bewildered. I spent most of my time analyzing the market; I barely had time to watch online videos. The others pulled out their phones, scrolling through the female anchor’s past predictions. “It’s true! Everything Nathan predicted, she predicted it first, and always earlier!” “We’ve been had! He’s not a prodigy, he’s a fraud!” “He’s the one who ruined us! Let’s kill him!” Their eyes were bloodshot. They didn’t even give me a chance to explain before they tore me apart. Now, hearing their flattery, a chill ran down my spine. My hands and feet turned to ice. 2 “Nathan, what’s wrong? Are you overworked?” Mark noticed my distress and gently pushed the crowd back to give me some space. Remembering what he did to me, my body went rigid. I pushed his hand away. “I am a bit tired. I was thinking of taking a trip to clear my head.” The moment I said it, Mrs. Gable from next door piped up, “Oh, Nathan, can’t you just stick it out a little longer? My son’s starting school soon, and we really need the money!” I was speechless. “Isn’t education free for the first nine years in this country?” She sniffed. “Well, he’ll need to buy a house and get married someday, won’t he?” I felt like I was going to be sick. “He’s not even in school yet. What’s the rush?” She was silenced, but the others chimed in with their own needs—a new house to renovate, tuition for studying abroad, a wife who wanted to upgrade. What did any of that have to do with me? “Uncles, aunts, friends, classmates,” I said, my voice strained. “I’m really not well. I need to rest. We can talk about this after I’ve recovered.” But they wouldn’t let me go, clinging to me, begging me to stay and help them. Just then, my father arrived. Seeing him again brought tears to my eyes. “Dad!” He held up a hand to quiet the crowd. “Listen to me, everyone! He’s my son, and I know he’s been working too hard. Let him rest!” Mrs. Gable was the first to object. “If he rests, who’s going to make money for us?” My father sighed. “But it’s not like he gets a cut of your earnings! I’m his father, and even I don’t have a right to demand anything of him. What right do you have?” “Dad!” I choked out, my heart aching. My mother died when I was young, and it had always been just the two of us. We weren’t rich, but my investments had made us a comfortable sum, enough to live well. But then my father pulled out a medical report, his hand trembling. “Nathan, it’s good you’re back. The doctor says if I don’t get a kidney transplant, I don’t have much time left. Just stay with me for a little while, okay?” I stared at the report, stunned. My father had kidney cancer. I gripped his hand. “Dad! We’ll get you the treatment! We have the money. We can get you a transplant!” “But… but…” His expression was pained, and he stammered, “Some guys invited me to play cards. They said the stakes were small, just a dollar for the first loss, then two, then four, doubling each time. I didn’t think it was much, so I played a few hands… and I lost everything.” My heart sank. He had been conned. It seemed that even if I wanted to walk away, fate had other plans. 3 I admitted my father to the hospital and threw myself back into market research. According to my memory of my past life, a bull market was just around the corner. If I played my cards right, I could make enough for my father’s transplant. Just as I was deep in thought, Mark called. “Nathan, I know you’re still in the game. We’ve been friends for years. Let me in on it. My wife just lost her job, and my son was just born. We’re struggling…” Some people can only share in wealth, not in hardship. The memory of him slandering me was still fresh. But when we were kids, his mother had treated me like her own son. I sighed. “Mark, the market is risky. What if you lose money? With your wife out of work and a new baby… I’m afraid you can’t afford the risk. So just invest a small amount.” “Okay! Okay!” “Precious metals,” I said. “The future is in precious metals. I’m bullish on Zenith.” “Got it! My son will never forget his generous godfather!” He hung up, ecstatic. After the call, I downloaded TikTok. I was curious about the financial anchor from my past life. I had just found her page when she posted a new video. “A little secret for you all… the future is in precious metals, especially Zenith!” I was stunned. That wasn’t what she had predicted in my past life. I quickly checked Zenith’s stock. It was skyrocketing. I frantically tried to buy, but the app was lagging. I couldn’t get the order through. Within minutes, the stock hit its daily limit and trading was halted. My phone rang. It was Mark again. “Nathan, I couldn’t get in on Zenith. Can you give me another tip?” I didn’t believe in coincidences. And in my past life, he was the one who accused me of being a copycat. “Sorry, I need a few days to think.” The moment I refused, his tone changed. “Nathan, I can’t believe you! You’ve already picked another one, haven’t you? Why won’t you tell me? How could you change like this? You’re the only one who’s allowed to get rich?” “But…” Before I could explain, he hung up. In my past life, I couldn’t understand his sudden turn. Now I realized he had changed a long time ago. I just hadn’t noticed. My father, even in the hospital, was thinking of me. He called to ask how my predictions were going. His old friends wanted to invest too, and they would give me a commission. He wanted to ease my burden. Those men had been kind to me when I was a child. I owed them. I remembered several other stocks that had done well in my past life. “A bull market is coming, Dad. We’re definitely going to make money. I think rare earth minerals are a good bet. Tell them to buy rare earth.” “Is there a specific company?” I checked the day’s market. “Solara.” My father praised my intelligence, saying how glad he was to have a son. “But Dad,” I said, changing the subject, “the money from this should be enough for your transplant. After the surgery, we’re out. The market is too risky. If we lose, we can’t afford it.” My father was silent for a moment. “Okay. I know the risks. After the surgery, we’ll move back to the countryside.” “Okay.” I finally understood. Those friends were fake. The only person in the world who truly loved me was my father. I was filled with hope. Once this stock paid out, I would have the money to save him. But something still felt off. I checked the female anchor’s page again. “Time for a new prediction! A bull market is on the horizon, and I think rare earth is the way to go. And just between us, I’m very optimistic about Solara!” A cold sweat broke out on my skin. How could her predictions be the same as mine again? 4 Before I could process it, my father called again. His voice was weak but urgent. “Nathan, I told all your uncles to buy Solara, but we’re all old and slow. None of us could get the order in. Did you manage to buy any?” I sighed. “I couldn’t get in either.” “Don’t worry, Dad. I’ll keep an eye on the market. There will be other opportunities.” “Okay. But what about your uncles? They’re old, they just wanted to make a little extra for their final years. I already promised them…” I thought for a moment. “It’s okay, Dad. I’ll make another prediction for them. But this stays between us.” “Of course! I’m not an idiot. I wouldn’t tell anyone else about a money-making opportunity!” After the call, I was still confused. In my past life, the anchor had never predicted either of these stocks. I scrolled through her old videos, searching for clues. I found a comment saying her name was Miranda Thorne. She used to be a nurse, but she had found a rich old man who could move the market with a single word. I wracked my brain, but I was sure I didn’t know her. My mind was a mess. I scrolled through my social media feed and saw a post from Mark. It was a screenshot of a stock hitting its limit, with the caption: [Asking for your prediction was a courtesy. You’re not the only one who can see the future!] The people I had helped in the past were all liking and commenting. [That little prick Nathan Hayes is so full of himself. We were just being nice asking for his opinion!] [Yeah, he’s nothing compared to our Miranda. She’s beautiful, and her predictions are always spot on!] [What does Nathan Hayes know about predictions? He’s probably just copying Miranda!] … So my death in my past life had been premeditated. But why? What did they gain from it? And why were Miranda’s predictions the same as mine? If Mark had betrayed me, what about my father? I was his only son. Why would he betray me? I pushed the thoughts aside. There were plenty of other stocks that had soared in my past life. This time, I wouldn’t tell anyone. I would buy first. Let’s see if Miranda can predict that. I rewatched her videos. Just like in my past life, she only focused on domestic stocks. But I remembered a few international stocks that had done very well. This time, I would buy all of them. Let’s see her predict that! And even if she did, it didn’t matter. After this boom, I would have enough money for my father’s treatment. Then I was done with the market for good. After buying the stocks, I camped out on Miranda’s page. I was a nervous wreck, my palms sweating as I refreshed the page like a madman. Not even five minutes later, a new video appeared. She was predicting international stocks. She had bought almost every single stock I had, except for one, a junk stock. I sneered. Smart. Even her copying was selective. I had invested the least in that junk stock. The person spying on me must have realized I was testing them. My father’s call came soon after. His tone was sharp, his voice booming with a newfound strength. “Nathan Hayes, what is wrong with you? I ask you for a few predictions, and you say nothing? I have to follow some stranger’s advice? How am I supposed to hold my head up?” “Dad, what are you talking about? I don’t understand,” I played dumb. But he was done pretending. “Don’t call me your father. I don’t have a son like you!” He hung up. The dial tone buzzed in my ear. A wave of desolation washed over me. So my father was just using me too. But it didn’t matter. I was going to be rich. What was family compared to money?

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Mike Maxwell was famously devoted to his wife, a fact well-known in their circle. For me, he’d turned down a family-arranged marriage and doted on me for three years straight. But then, at his bachelor party, just before our wedding, his first love, the one who got away, asked him, “If I crashed your wedding and asked you to leave with me, would you?” And he, utterly serious, replied, “Yes.” Swallowing my tears, I messaged my best friend, Lexie Thorne, a billionaire heiress. “Can you get me out of here, like, now?” Seven minutes later, Lexie’s car screeched to a halt, tires practically smoking. “I told you, with your looks and personality, you should marry into old money and live the good life. My brother is gorgeous and refined, and my dad is still quite charming. Pick one!” 1 The wedding was just around the corner, and Mike’s best friends had thrown him a wild bachelor party. Everyone in his close-knit group knew how much Mike adored me. If I wasn’t with him, he’d inevitably rush home before ten, regardless of whether anyone else was having fun. So, this time, they’d enthusiastically invited me along. But the moment I stepped inside, I felt an odd tension in the air. Everyone greeted me warmly, yet kept subtly glancing at Mike, shooting him meaningful looks. I had no idea what was going on. Once everyone was seated, a short-haired girl finally arrived, a little late. “Sorry, traffic was a nightmare!” She was tall and slender, her voice clear and cheerful. Mike, beside me, immediately froze. It was the first time I’d ever seen someone’s face betray the precise moment their heart skipped a beat. The girl extended her hand to me, a friendly smile on her face. “You must be the bride-to-be! Nice to meet you, I’m Summer Reed!” The name hit me like a splash of cold water. Suddenly, everything clicked. This was Mike’s first love, the one he’d been infatuated with for five years. They said back then, before he became the composed man he was now, he pursued her relentlessly. Ten thousand roses beneath her window, a hundred feet of fireworks on the beach. His entire youth had revolved around her. But three years ago, she’d decisively followed another guy abroad for college. That’s when I met Mike. At that bar, Mike walked toward me through the hazy lights. I’d only had half a drink, yet I felt utterly intoxicated, practically begging my friends for information about him. When they nudged me in front of him, my tongue tied itself in knots. “I’m Primrose Day. Mr. Maxwell, may I ask your first name?” Laughter erupted around us. Mike, whose brow had been furrowed for months, finally relaxed into a smile. After we got together, Mike poured all his tenderness into me. He remembered every single thing I liked and disliked. No matter how late I worked, he insisted on picking me up himself. Every holiday brought a thoughtful gift from him. He posted about me constantly on his social media, introducing me to every friend and family member. Even his friends started to get jealous. “You’re really benefiting from someone else’s hard work, Primrose. Mike chased the toughest girl, perfected his emotional intelligence, and now you’re reaping the rewards.” Those comments never bothered me. Because they always added that, in looks and personality, I was completely different from that girl. I wasn’t a replacement. More importantly, I felt Mike’s love. After three years of passionate romance, he’d proposed to me with unwavering certainty. I thought our love was finally blossoming into happily ever after. But then, reality delivered a brutal punch. 2 Summer casually settled into the seat beside me. She pulled a bottle of perfume from her purse and offered it to me. “A wedding gift. This scent is incredibly sophisticated; I’ve worn it for seven or eight years.” She smiled, her eyes crinkling at the corners. I had to admit, she was graceful and charming. Even her wedding gift was for me, not Mike. I accepted it and thanked her. Then she pulled out her phone to add me on social media. “If anyone ever gives you trouble, remember to tell me. Even though Mike and I grew up together, I’m not playing the ‘family’ card. I’ll always have your back!” The friends around us applauded. “Still our fearless leader, Summer! Always so sharp!” Summer paused, then looked past me at Mike, who sat on my other side. “Hey, what’s up with you? Three years and you’ve become a man of so few words?” The others were drinking, gossiping, their eyes glued to the three of us, desperate not to miss any juicy drama. Mike’s ears visibly flushed. He couldn’t even bring himself to turn and look at her. He just held his drink, trying for a lighthearted tone. “Not few words, just… we’re strangers now. Don’t know what to say.” Summer laughed. “Is that my fault for not keeping in touch these past three years?” She raised her glass to him. “Then let’s keep in touch more often from now on?” Mike glanced at me. “My wife keeps me on a tight leash. If you want to connect with me, you’ll have to go through her first.” They exchanged smiles, a silent truce in the air, then clinked their glasses together. Everything was out in the open, no hidden meanings, just straightforward. But for some reason, sitting between them, my chest felt heavy. Maybe it was because, after three years together, I understood Mike’s body language intimately. Tonight, he was incredibly nervous. Drinks flowed, songs were sung, and games were played. As the party wound down, everyone was a little tipsy. Mike lost a round of ‘truth or dare’ to Summer and chose ‘truth’. Summer, who’d been impeccably composed all night, suddenly indulged in a moment of playful mischief. She tilted her head, a tipsy, coquettish glint in her eyes, and asked Mike: “If I showed up at your wedding to stop it, would you leave with me?” The question electrified the already boisterous crowd. “Oh, finally! You two aren’t pretending anymore!” “Yeah, that’s more like it!” “Tell us! Would you go with her?” Mike’s eyes were bloodshot from drinking. He looked at her, emotions swirling within him. Then, with unnerving sincerity, he replied, “Yes.” The crowd erupted. “No way! I knew it!” “Crash the wedding! Crash the wedding! Crash the wedding!” The cheers drew everyone’s attention. I sat between them, feeling my breath catch in my throat, my hands trembling. I didn’t know how to handle the awkwardness. Mumbling an excuse about the restroom, I fled the scene. Holding back tears, I sent Lexie a message: “Can you get me out of here, like, now?” Lexie’s call came immediately. “What happened? Are those jerks bothering you?” “No, just… don’t ask right now. Can you just come pick me up?” I felt on the verge of tears. Lexie’s voice sharpened with urgency, loud as a battle cry. “You wait right there, I’m coming! Ten minutes! No, seven minutes!” “It’s not that urgent, drive safely.” “Don’t tell me what to do!” 3 Seven minutes later, Lexie tore through the streets in her Bugatti, tires practically spitting sparks. The moment I saw her, my composure shattered, tears welling in my eyes. Lexie gripped my hand, her anger barely contained. “What did you jerks do to her?! Mike, are you blind? Can’t you see how upset she is?” Lexie, a billionaire heiress, was fiercely protective and commanded a powerful presence. Her arrival immediately silenced the entire group. Her gaze fell on Summer, instantly turning sharp. “Well, well, if it isn’t you.” Summer stood up and took my arm, a falsely sweet smile on her face. “We were just playing a game. Why are you getting so upset? I’m usually so blunt, this is my first time hanging out with such a delicate girl. I must have misjudged the situation, my bad.” Lexie yanked me behind her. “Don’t touch her! You’re not blunt, you’re just playing dumb!” By now, Mike had sobered up a bit. He rubbed his temples, stood up, and said, “Primrose is tired. I should take her home.” Lexie sneered. “I’m here now, you think we need you? Just keep playing dead.” Everyone stood awkwardly, watching Lexie gather my things. She muttered complaints as she did. “I told you ages ago, with your looks and personality, you should marry into old money and live the good life. But no, you had to go suffer with some nouveau riche. That kind of crowd, all backstabbing and fake, is no place for someone as innocent as you.” Mike’s family also had assets in the high nine figures. Nouveau riche with nine figures… quite a niche insult. But coming from Lexie, no one dared to argue. Lexie finished packing, picked up my bag, and spotted the exquisitely packaged perfume inside. Without a word, she pulled it out and tossed it on the floor. “What outdated garbage. Can’t believe you’d give this as a gift.” The bottle rolled across the floor, coming to a stop by Summer’s feet. Summer’s face fell. Lexie grabbed my hand and headed for the exit. Mike followed, catching me at the door. “Primrose, don’t be angry. In that atmosphere, with her suddenly asking that question, my mind went blank.” I looked into Mike’s earnest eyes and suddenly felt all my strength drain away. “You mean to say, it was your gut reaction, that you truly wanted to be with her?” “Of course not! Primrose, it was just a game. If I’d said no, she would’ve been humiliated in front of our friends.” “You’d rather trample my dignity to protect her feelings?” “I just gave her a polite answer; I’m offering you marriage.” I pulled away from him, a bitter laugh escaping me. “So, I’m the one who profited? Mike, three years together, and I never realized you’re such a master of playing both sides.” Just then, Lexie pulled up, honking impatiently. Mike tried to grab me again. “Let me take you home. We can talk properly on the way.” Lexie frowned. “If you’re so free, why don’t you drive your electric Bentley around as an Uber for a bit and clear your head?” Mike choked. His green-plated Bentley had never felt so humiliating. I opened the car door and slid inside. Looking back at Mike, I said, “Our wedding, let’s call it off. We both need to seriously reconsider things.” 4 On the drive home, I scrolled through my social media feed. I found two posts from Summer. The first: She really isn’t anything like me. But don’t you think that just makes it all the more obvious? The second: If you spent these three years trying to prove I was wrong to leave you, then… you succeeded. The emotions I’d held in all night finally broke free. I sobbed uncontrollably, mourning the three years of genuine affection I’d poured into Mike. I’d believed his unwavering devotion stemmed from love. Instead, it was just a performance for her. I was merely a pawn in their elaborate game. Lexie, being a straightforward person, wasn’t one for comforting words. She preferred direct solutions. “Stop crying. There are plenty of other men out there. Just find a new one. My brother is gorgeous and refined, and my dad is still quite charming. Pick one!” I cried until I was spent, then her words made me laugh. “Lexie, am I useless? Even now, you’re the one who has to stand up for me.” Lexie patted my head. “What foolishness are you talking about? Everyone’s different. My mom passed away early, leaving just us three, and we’re all a little… eccentric when it comes to expressing affection. I was rebellious as a kid and caused a lot of headaches, so I rarely got to be useful. But you, you’re naturally kind, a true angel. Every day with you is a breath of fresh air. And you’re the gentlest doctor with needles in the whole city. When I was hospitalized, I never would have made it through without you by my side, patiently comforting me every day.” Her words were soothing, rebuilding my shattered self-esteem. Lexie said, “Seriously, are you really not considering marrying into my family?” She’d said this many times. Lexie and I met when she was hospitalized. The chief physician was her attending doctor, and I was the assistant. But because I spoke softly and was gentle with injections, Lexie, being impulsive, insisted I become her attending physician. From then on, we formed a deep bond. I was already dating Mike at the time, and Lexie regretted it daily, practically slapping her thigh. “Why didn’t I get sick a few months earlier! Back then, you were single, and there was still hope I could bring you home as my sister-in-law!” The innocent bystander, Lexie’s older brother, Vincent Thorne—who had specifically returned from his vacation abroad to visit her—had his face turn black every time he heard it. Because of her relentless nagging, Vincent and I had a frosty relationship from the start. Whenever we met by chance, I’d awkwardly look down, and he’d awkwardly look away, both of us pretending not to see each other. Not long ago, Vincent returned from his studies abroad and joined our hospital. He even worked in the office right next to mine. The arrival of this cool, reserved, and utterly handsome doctor caused a stir throughout the hospital. Young women would find excuses to walk past his office multiple times a day. Even sick leave requests dropped. As for me, I had to hold my bladder during shifts, fearing I’d run into him too often in the hallway. Seeing my silence, Lexie became excited. “Your quiet means you’re seriously considering it, right? Have you decided? My brother or my dad?” My mouth twitched. “If those are the only two options, I’d rather pick your dad.” Lexie grew even more thrilled. “Great! I actually thought so too! My dad is older, so he’ll pass on sooner, and you can inherit his fortune early. Then we can hire male models every day! My brother won’t do; he’s got a super regular, healthy lifestyle, in peak condition. I’m afraid you wouldn’t outlive him.” Me: “…”

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My wife, eight months pregnant, ignored my pleas and insisted on going bungee jumping with her first love. Under the immense shock, her pregnancy abruptly terminated on the spot. As the surgeon, I painfully delivered the fully formed fetus with my own hands. On the hospital bed, still groggy from anesthesia, my wife kept whispering her first love’s name. “I jumped from three hundred feet with you. My love for you is witnessed by heaven and earth.” This time, I didn’t erupt in hysterical accusations. I simply laid a signed divorce agreement on the table, granting her freedom with a calm resolve. But then, she panicked. 1 The nurse, adjusting my IV drip, froze. Catching the pity in her eyes, I grew more irritable, retreating to the stairwell to light a cigarette. From my pocket, I pulled out a silver bracelet. I’d gone to the temple that weekend specifically to pray for our baby’s safe arrival. My sincere prayers hadn’t brought safety; instead, I was forced to kill my own child with my own hands. Like seven years of marriage, carving out a heart for a wife I loved, only for her heart to remain untouched. Equally ironic. As the cigarette burned down, my unwavering love for Serena, which had lasted seven years, turned to ashes. The nurse came running, flustered. “Dr. Thorne, you need to see Serena, she woke up crying nonstop.” Crying? This was all her own doing. What was there to cry about now? I stamped out the cigarette, my expression impassive, and walked into the hospital room. Serena’s face was ashen. She gripped my sleeve, tears streaming down her face. “How dare you abort my baby without my consent?” “He… was he a boy or a girl? Did he hurt? My poor baby…” Receiving no response or comfort, she choked out, her voice laced with incredulity. “The baby’s gone, and you don’t feel heartbroken? Do you even deserve to be a father?” I expressionlessly pried open her fingers, white from gripping my sleeve so tightly. She had no right to ask that question. From the moment she got pregnant, I’d meticulously cared for her every need, strictly followed nutritional meal plans, and even accompanied her to the bathroom at night to prevent any accidental slips. Yet, a casual comment from her first love was enough to make her disregard both her own life and our child’s to go bungee jumping. It seemed she realized this, as she guiltily avoided my icy gaze. “It’s okay, Quentin. Once I recover, we… we can have more children later.” “Go home and make some pigeon soup, and bring a few thick sets of pajamas.” She gradually calmed down, resuming her usual demanding tone with me. Normally, even if she just had a fever or a cold, I’d be on high alert, preparing everything in advance, without her needing to ask. But now, I didn’t even lift an eyelid, continuing to fill out medical records, responding flatly. “I’m busy. Order takeout, or ask Aiden to take care of you.” Serena stared at me in disbelief, as if trying to ascertain if she’d misheard. After a long moment of stunned silence, she suddenly scoffed. “It’s just jealousy, isn’t it, that I went bungee jumping with Aiden? That was a promise I made before I was pregnant. I’ve never been someone to break my word.” “I just had a miscarriage, I’m so weak, and you’re telling me to order takeout? Do you have any conscience?” Her voice grew sharper, drawing accusatory, disdainful glances from those around us. “Men these days, not a single one you can count on.” The passersby’s agreement made her expression even more triumphant. She lifted her chin, confidently waiting for me to back down. I snorted. “You have the nerve to play the victim, but you don’t have the nerve to admit why you miscarried?” With that, ignoring her face, which had turned beet red, I turned and left without looking back. Her furious, resentful shouts followed me. “Quentin Thorne, if you dare walk out of this room today, don’t even think about me having another child with you.” The only reply was my resolute back and the resounding slam of the door. I walked directly into the director’s office. “Director, is there still a spot for the innovative drug research and development program in the States?” The director, his face beaming, closed his files and stood up, pulling me to a seat. “Of course! That spot was always reserved for you, but you kept deferring it for Serena, almost letting another hospital snatch it up.” The innovative drug research was a confidential commercial project. Once committed, I wouldn’t be allowed any outside contact for three years. Serena was extremely dependent on me in her daily life, and with a baby on the way, I’d chosen family over career. The outcome, however, had slapped me hard in the face. Now, I had no ties. After discussing the details with the director, I took a few days off, wanting no further contact with Serena. She didn’t contact me either. This was her usual cold shoulder approach; I was happy for the quiet. However, she, who rarely posted on social media, suddenly updated her feed dozens of times. In the photos, Aiden affectionately linked arms with her, strolling through the hospital. The two of them were like a couple deeply in love, feeding each other strawberry cake. He made the cake himself, sweet to the core. Late at night, Aiden added a small bed next to hers. True feelings are revealed in times of trouble. So glad you’re always with me, unlike some scumbags. She hoped to provoke my insecurity, forcing me to apologize. But she didn’t know, these tricks only worked when I loved her. Turning off the screen, I unpinned her chat on my messenger app. The project required a lot of preparation, and I had no time for such trivialities. Walking out of the director’s office with my visa documents, I ran straight into Serena and Aiden, who were staring at me with amusement. She raised an eyebrow triumphantly, her tone dismissive. “I thought you’d show more backbone this time.” “You came to pick me up from the hospital, but didn’t bring a warm coat? Not as thoughtful as Aiden at all.” I responded flatly. “He certainly takes good care of you.” There were still many medical cases to digitize; I didn’t want to get into a pointless argument with her. I pulled out my car keys and headed towards the parking lot, leaving a bewildered Serena frozen in place. She hurried over, her face indignant, and stopped my hand as I reached for the car door. “Is it fun to always throw tantrums like this?” “You abandoned me at the hospital, and now you’re upset that Aiden came to take care of me?” Aiden walked over, arms crossed, an amused smirk on his face. “Quentin, I’m not trying to lecture you, but your wife went through so much after that miscarriage. How can you be so irresponsible as a husband? I had to run around for her at the hospital.” He emphasized the word ‘miscarriage,’ his tone arrogant, as if specifically reminding me that his casual joke could make Serena disregard her eight-month pregnancy to go bungee jumping with him. But now, those words couldn’t even stir a flicker of anger in me. I nodded expressionlessly. “Thank you for your trouble these past few days, Aiden.” Before I finished speaking, Serena rushed forward, enraged, and slapped me hard across the face. “Quentin, you’re so ungrateful! Aiden has done so much for me, and not only do you not thank him, your tone is so sarcastic, it disgusts me.” Not appeased, she shoved me forcefully. I hadn’t rested well after archiving medical files all night, so my steps were a bit unsteady. I stumbled back a few steps and fell to the ground, the back of my head hitting the sharp corner of the wall with a sickening thud. A searing pain shot through me. I instinctively touched it, and my palm came away bloody. Her expression shifted to alarm. She started to come over to help me. Aiden scoffed. “Tsk, even if Quentin left you alone these past few days, you shouldn’t resort to violence. Serena, that was out of line.” Serena’s face, which had just softened, instantly hardened again, her voice glacial. “Compared to what I went through with the miscarriage, a scraped knee for him is nothing. Leave him. Let’s go.” My chest ached with a bitter churning. Aiden always managed to inflame Serena’s anger towards me with just a few words. Even when I did nothing, I was always the bad guy. To Serena, blind and deluded, my very existence was the biggest mistake. If I hadn’t appeared, she could have openly rekindled her romance with Aiden. Such a simple truth, and it took me years of agony in this twisted relationship to understand. I struggled to my feet, clutching my wound, and walked back into the hospital. The emergency room doctor frowned, holding a tray of medical supplies, preparing to stitch me up. “This isn’t a good spot for anesthetic. Try to bear it.” The sharp needle pierced my skin. I gripped my palms tightly, a cold sweat breaking out from the pain. Back home, Serena was busy in the kitchen. The warm overhead light spilled over her, creating a soft glow around her. Aiden sat on the sofa, legs crossed, triumph almost oozing from his eyes. “Serena insisted on cooking for me herself to thank me. She said she was going to make sure I was well-fed tonight.” I twitched my lips, a bitter self-mockery. Two years of dating, seven years of marriage. Only now did I realize Serena wasn’t incapable of cooking; it was just that I wasn’t worthy of her cooking for me. Serena walked out with a bowl of hot soup. Seeing the bandage on my head, she paused slightly, a flicker of concern in her eyes. “Just a scrape, you said? Why does it need bandaging?” She put down the soup bowl and started to check my wound. But I pushed her hand away and walked straight into my study. Just a few more documents to organize, and I could fly to the States next week. She followed me, relentless. “Aiden took care of me for a few days, and you’re going to give me attitude just because I’m making him dinner?” I didn’t even lift an eyelid, continuing to read the documents in my hand. “You’re overthinking. I’m very busy right now. Go eat with him.” She was startled and angry, pointing at me, her voice suddenly rising, her eyes holding a hint of challenge. “Fine, playing the magnanimous one, huh? Then Aiden can stay the night. You don’t mind anything, do you?” I calmly replied, “Alright.” Serena’s mouth opened, her throat seeming to be clogged with something. Her scrutinizing gaze lingered on my face. Seeing my indifferent expression, not caring in the least, she couldn’t help but ask, “I’m letting Aiden stay over so late. Are you really not angry?” Angry? Why would I be angry? If it were the old Quentin, the moment he saw Aiden brazenly in our home late at night, he would have thrown a punch, let alone let him stay. But now, my heart was completely calm. I pushed up my glasses and replied, “I’ll sleep in the guest room tonight. You two can have the master bedroom.” That sentence instantly infuriated Serena. She slammed the door shut and left. I suddenly felt a little confused. Wasn’t this exactly what she’d always wanted? Now that I was openly allowing it, why was she still angry? After organizing the documents, I tiredly lay down on the bed. Half-asleep, Serena gently pushed the door open, climbed into bed, and wrapped her arms around my waist. “Quentin, you’ve become so strange these past few days.” “I know you’re still angry about the bungee jumping. I’m also heartbroken about the baby. Can we just stop fighting, please?” Seven years of marriage, and she had never once actively shown vulnerability to me. But this time, it was too late. I tried to push her away, but my hand brushed against a raised, uneven scar on her arm. When we were dating, she often came to the hospital to keep me company when I worked late. One time, there was a disgruntled patient. An emotionally unstable patient lunged at me with a knife. She bravely raised her arm to shield me. She, who would usually cry over a mere scrape, covered her bleeding arm and, in turn, comforted me. “It’s okay, it doesn’t hurt. You’re a doctor; your hands are precious.” Back then, she truly cared for me. But true feelings, they change in an instant. I let her hold me, leaving the last shred of dignity for this relationship. “I’m not angry. You just had a miscarriage. Get some rest.” Her arms tightened around me, her voice trembling slightly. “I knew you always cared about me. You’re just being stubborn, but your heart is soft.”

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I was known in Los Angeles as the ultimate “sister-girl,” and he was the notorious “brother-boy.” For the sake of our families’ interests, we entered into a strategic marriage. On our wedding night, I laid down three ground rules: separate rooms, live our own lives, and no interference. Yet, right in front of me, he slowly unbuttoned his shirt, his eyes deep with intent. “Not allowed, wifey.” My pupils dilated wildly; I thought I had stumbled upon a wolf in sheep’s clothing. Instead, he leaned into my ear, his voice a wronged and resentful whisper: “My brother said if you don’t fall in love with me, he’ll cut off my allowance.” 1 My wedding to Leonard Hadley was hailed as the best commercial alliance of the year in Los Angeles. The Swift and Hadley families had been locked in a bitter feud since before I could remember—the kind of rivalry where coffee mugs flew across boardrooms. Now, these two powerhouses were uniting through marriage. I, Lila Swift, the younger daughter of the Swift family, was a professional slacker, content to be supported by my older sister, Olivia. He, Leonard Hadley, the second son of the Hadley family, was an enigmatic figure living under the formidable shadow of his older brother, Arthur Hadley. I was known in our circles as a devoted “sister-girl,” with Olivia, the woman who single-handedly took a company public, setting my only KPI as “just be happy.” Leonard, on the other hand, was rumored to be the ultimate “brother-boy,” with his brother Arthur supposedly handling everything for him. They even said if Leonard sneezed, Arthur would send someone to check the humidity levels. To outsiders, our union was merely a strategic exchange of resources between two giant corporations, using their “unremarkable” offspring. I didn’t care; my life goal was to just coast by. Leonard seemed equally unfazed. They said he didn’t even lift an eyelid when he signed the marriage certificate. At the wedding, our forced smiles ached my cheeks. Finally, on our wedding night, I kicked off my heels and collapsed onto the enormous matrimonial bed, feeling my soul ascend. Leonard walked in, his suit impeccable, his face still bearing that aloof “don’t mess with me, my brother is terrifying” expression. I cleared my throat and pulled out the pre-prepared post-nuptial agreement. “Leonard, let’s be upfront.” I slapped the agreement on the nightstand: “First, separate rooms. This mansion has plenty.” “Second, independent finances. We’ll live our own lives, no meddling. For appearances, we’ll act like a loving couple when necessary, mostly for our families.” “Third, and most importantly, don’t fall in love with me. It won’t end well.” Having laid down the law, I struck what I thought was a cool and indifferent pose, waiting for him to gratefully sign. Leonard listened in silence, not bothering to look at the agreement. He just looked at me, his handsome, almond-shaped eyes narrowing slightly, and then he smiled. That smile, how should I put it? Three parts amusement, seven parts absolute certainty. My heart skipped a beat. Something was off. This wasn’t the script. Shouldn’t he be sighing in relief and saying, “Exactly what I wanted”? The next second, right in front of me, he slowly, button by button, undid his shirt. His muscular chest and chiseled abs were faintly visible under the crystal chandelier. A wave of pure pheromones washed over me. I froze, alarm bells blaring in my head. Oh God! Was this ‘brother-boy’ just an act? Is he actually a cunning wolf in sheep’s clothing? Is a business marriage really a package deal that includes losing my virginity? Olivia! Save me! He stepped closer, his tall frame completely engulfing me. I swallowed hard, my body instinctively shrinking back. “You… what do you want? I’m warning you, forced love doesn’t last!” He leaned over, his hands bracing on either side of my body, trapping me between the headboard and him. His warm breath tickled my ear. “Not allowed, wifey.” His voice was deep and magnetic, carrying a hint of seduction. My mind went blank, my pupils dilating wildly. This is it! My virtue is doomed tonight! How am I going to explain this to Olivia? Just as I was about to scream and perhaps grab the bedside lamp to physically “enlighten” him, he leaned in closer, his voice a low, injured whisper meant only for me: “My brother said if you don’t fall in love with me, he’ll cut off my allowance.” Me: “?” I slowly formed a question mark in my mind. What the hell? Did I just imagine that? Seeing my bewildered expression, he sighed, pulled out his phone from his inner jacket pocket, and showed me a chat log. The contact was saved as [My Only Bro]. The latest message clearly read: [You have three months to make your wife, Lila, fall head over heels for you. Fail, and you can work for the rest of your life to earn money for your sports cars and game skins.] I: “…” Leonard put away his phone, looking utterly devastated: “So, wifey, for the sake of my sports cars and skins, just make a small sacrifice and fall in love with me.” I looked at his face, handsome enough to make gods and men alike swoon, and his expression of tragic heroism, as if sacrificing everything for his KPI. For a moment, I didn’t know whether to mock his romantic cluelessness or pity him for having such a devilish brother. This marriage was getting weirder by the minute. 2 On the first day of our marriage, I gained an entirely new understanding of my “brother-boy” husband. He wasn’t a cunning wolf; he was just… a rich man’s clueless son. Driven by the KPI his brother had set, he launched his “love pursuit” mission bright and early. I was still dreaming of swimming with the Hermès bags my sister bought me when I was choked awake by a strong smell of burning. Rushing to the kitchen, I saw Leonard, dressed in six-figure pajamas, staring blankly at an unrecognizable, charred object. Next to him, the expensive German-imported oven was beeping furiously, spewing thick smoke. “Leonard, what are you doing? Alchemy?” I was aghast. He turned to me, two smudges of soot on his face making him look adorably innocent. “My brother said that to capture a woman’s heart, you must first capture her stomach. I was making you a loving breakfast.” He pointed at the black, unknown object: “This is French toast. It’s just that the cooking time might have been… slightly over.” I looked at the “toast” that could double as a weapon, then at his innocent face, and fell into a deep contemplation. His brother was a devil, and he himself seemed to be a few screws loose. In the end, we both sat in the million-dollar kitchen, slurping instant noodles, for our first breakfast as a married couple. “Wifey,” he mumbled, noodles hanging from his mouth, “do you think my performance today managed to spark even a tiny bit of affection in you?” I stared at him blankly: “Yes, it did, in a ‘whatever’ kind of way.” His eyes lit up: “Really?” “Really,” I nodded. “Right now, I want to pack you up and send you back to your brother, telling him this KPI is too hard, and I quit.” His face instantly fell, like a giant golden retriever abandoned. “Don’t, wifey, I can still try harder!” I ignored him, finished my noodles, and went back to bed to catch up on sleep. This marriage was becoming more of a joke every day, and I was the audience who couldn’t laugh. In the evening, both families planned a dinner, a sort of post-wedding homecoming gathering. The venue was an exclusive club with absolute privacy. Olivia came to pick me up, her sharp eyes scanning me like an X-ray the moment I got into the car. “He didn’t do anything to you, did he?” “Sis, you’re overthinking,” I yawned. “What could he do to me? He can’t even toast bread.” Olivia snorted: “I wouldn’t expect him to dare. What good could Arthur, that eternal iceberg, teach his brother?” A thought sparked in my mind: “Sis, are you very close to Arthur?” “Not at all,” Olivia’s expression instantly cooled by three degrees. “Just a business rival.” I felt something was off, but I couldn’t quite pinpoint it. When we arrived at the private room in the club, my parents and Leonard’s parents were already there, the four elders beaming as if they could already envision the glorious future of our merged families conquering Wall Street and Nasdaq. Leonard and I were made to sit together. He leaned in discreetly: “Wifey, I’ll peel shrimp for you later. My brother says girls like that.” I rolled my eyes: “Just don’t feed me the shells.” Just then, the door to the private room opened. My sister, Olivia, walked in, striking in a sharp black suit, her presence commanding. Almost simultaneously, another man entered. He wore a custom-tailored suit of the same color, his figure tall and handsome, but the atmospheric pressure around him was low enough to freeze penguins. Everyone there, except Leonard, knew him—Arthur Hadley, the true power behind the Hadley family. I clearly saw that the moment Olivia saw Arthur, a tiny crack appeared on her perpetually icy face. And Arthur, upon seeing Olivia, his gaze abruptly narrowed, as if he’d witnessed something incredible. The air instantly froze. The smiles on the elders’ faces also stiffened. My dad and mom exchanged glances, while Leonard’s parents awkwardly coughed. Only Leonard and I, the two clueless ones, remained oblivious. “Bro, why are you here?” Leonard stood up, surprised and delighted. “Sis, I thought you said you weren’t coming?” I was equally astonished. Olivia ignored me. Arthur ignored Leonard. Their gazes, like invisible swords, clashed and fought fiercely in the air, sparks flying. It was then that I belatedly realized… The “business rival” Olivia mentioned. And the “only brother” my husband spoke of. They seemed… a little too “unfamiliar” with each other. After a long moment, Olivia spoke first, her voice so cold it seemed to drop ice shards. “Mr. Hadley, what a coincidence.” Arthur’s thin lips curved into a chilling smile. “Ms. Swift, no coincidence. I’m here for my brother’s family dinner.” His gaze swept over me, then landed on Leonard, and finally, precisely fixed on Olivia’s face, as he said, word by word: “I didn’t realize my brother’s wife was… your sister.” Boom— My mind felt like it had been hit by an atomic bomb. I finally understood. My sister’s arch-nemesis. My husband’s own brother. I… I… I… I married my sister’s arch-nemesis’s brother?! What was this? A marriage of convenience? Or an undercover mission deep into enemy territory? I looked at my sister’s murderous face, Arthur’s face that looked ready to self-destruct, and then at Leonard, still utterly bewildered. I felt like our four relationships were more tangled than a spider’s web in a forgotten cave. This dinner was beyond salvage. 3 That “unpleasant dinner” ultimately ended with the elders awkwardly making excuses to leave, Olivia and Arthur staring daggers at each other, and Leonard and I shivering in fear. On the way home, I sat in Olivia’s car, barely daring to breathe. Olivia drove, her fingers gripping the steering wheel, knuckles white, as if it wasn’t a wheel but Arthur’s neck. “Lila.” She finally spoke. “Here!” I snapped to attention. “From today, your mission has changed.” “Huh?” “Make his life miserable,” Olivia’s voice was devoid of warmth. “Make his brother feel the pain, make his brother come begging to me.” I: “…” Sis, are you asking me to stage a domestic drama or a spy thriller? On the other side, Leonard had also been taken away by his brother. According to him, his brother remained silent in the car for half an hour, only to utter one sentence at the end: “Keep her happy, keep her sister happy, and make sure her sister doesn’t go crazy again.” And so, Leonard and I, two couch potatoes who had only wanted to chill, became pawns in our siblings’ war overnight. Our marriage, which began as a mere business agreement, escalated into a silent battlefield. The next day, we met at the restaurant, both sporting heavy dark circles under our eyes. “Good morning, wifey.” Leonard greeted me weakly. “It’s anything but.” My face was ashen. We exchanged glances, seeing four words clearly written in each other’s eyes: Life is hopeless. “My sister said…” “My brother said…” We both spoke at the same time, then stopped. “You first,” I gestured. Leonard wore a tragic expression: “My brother wants me to take you shopping today, make you happy, and ideally, make sure your sister knows how happy you are.” I scoffed: “Funny, my sister wants me to drive you half-crazy today, and ideally, make sure your brother knows you’re on the verge of a breakdown.” Leonard: “…” I: “…” How were we supposed to do this job? We sat at opposite ends of the long dining table, staring at each other, speechless, with only tears flowing. Finally, I slammed my hand on the table. “Let’s go! Shopping!” Leonard’s eyes lit up: “Wifey, you’re willing to cooperate?” “Cooperate my ass!” I snarled. “If I don’t max out your card today, my name isn’t Swift!” I was going to fulfill my sister’s mission! Drive him crazy! Make his brother’s heart ache! Far from being angry, Leonard looked relieved, as if I was finally catching on. “No problem, wifey! My brother gave me a secondary card, no limit! Spend as much as you want! The more you spend, the more he’ll know how happy I’m making you!” I: “?” This logic… seemed to make sense, and yet felt utterly flawed. And so, an utterly bizarre scene unfolded in the luxury boutiques of Los Angeles. I, Lila Swift, would emotionlessly point at a row of bags: “Take everything but the green one.” The sales assistant would be so excited she nearly fainted. Meanwhile, Leonard, behind me, would be smiling even wider than the assistant, swiping his card and cheering me on. “Wifey! Go, go, go! This color is lovely too! Buy it!” “Wifey! This collection is new! Get them all!” “Wifey! Are you tired? Want to rest before round two?” I carried my bags and felt like an emotionless shopping robot. Leonard, on the other hand, was like a cheerleader on a sugar high. Passersby would point and whisper. “Oh my god, is that Leonard Hadley and his new wife? He spoils her so much!” “Yes, yes, look how pale Ms. Swift looks from anger, and Mr. Hadley is still trying to coax her into buying more!” “What kind of fairy-tale romance is this! I’m so jealous!” Hearing the whispers around me, I nearly spat out a mouthful of blood. Pale from anger? I was pale from exhaustion! I was just utterly bewildered by his bizarre tactics! That afternoon, I spent a figure with eight digits on his card. I was dead tired, slumped in the car, unwilling to move. Leonard, however, was full of energy, snapping photos of every receipt, bundling them up, and sending them to his brother. Then, he handed me his phone. [My Only Bro] replied with two words: [Not bad.] Leonard looked at me expectantly, as if seeking praise: “Wifey, look, my brother is very pleased. You worked hard today, this is your reward.” He magically produced a small box from behind his back. I opened it to find a dazzling diamond necklace. “This is…” “The one you looked at twice earlier,” he smiled like an idiot. “I secretly bought it for you. Do you like it?” I looked at the necklace, then at his hopeful eyes. I suddenly felt that Olivia’s mission for me might be… a little challenging. Because this man… he just couldn’t be angered to death! 4 My plan to exasperate Leonard to death ended with me utterly exhausted, his brother pleased, and me unexpectedly receiving a diamond necklace. Total failure. I wasn’t having it. I, Lila Swift, queen of slacking, could not fail at a single KPI! I started contemplating a more sophisticated approach. Soon, an opportunity arose. The Hadley family was hosting a grand business gala to celebrate our “wedding of the century.” All the influential figures in Los Angeles would be in attendance. My sister, Olivia, would also be there. This was practically a tailor-made stage for my social demise plan! I confidently told Olivia: “Sis, don’t worry, this time I’ll make Leonard lose face in front of all of Los Angeles, and make his brother furious enough to have a heart attack!” Olivia raised an eyebrow, giving me a look that said, “I have high hopes for you.” On the night of the gala, I wore a striking red gown, my arm linked with Leonard’s, as we gracefully entered the venue. Leonard was in a pristine white tuxedo, looking like a prince. My inner devil was roaring: Soon, I’ll turn you into a drowned rat! My plan was simple: In front of everyone, I would pretend to slip and “accidentally” spill my glass of red wine all over his pristine white suit. White with red, the visual effect would be absolutely explosive. A distinguished young gentleman, at his own family’s gala, splattered like a red and white polka-dotted dog by his new wife. The image alone was thrilling to imagine. Leonard would surely be socially annihilated on the spot, and his brother Arthur’s face would be slapped repeatedly. Perfect! I congratulated myself on my brilliant plan. The opportunity quickly presented itself. The emcee invited us onto the stage to receive everyone’s blessings. Spotlights shone on us, and countless eyes from the audience were fixed on our every move. I held my wine glass, adjusted my angle, took a deep breath, and leaned slightly— Faster than words could tell, before I could even “slip,” Leonard suddenly stumbled. He stepped on the hem of my gown. I: “!” Before I could react, I completely lost my balance and tumbled forward. The red wine glass flew from my hand, tracing a graceful red arc through the air, and then… Splat! It landed precisely on Leonard’s head. The wine dripped down his hair, staining his handsome face crimson, and his white suit was utterly ruined. As for me, I plunged headfirst into his arms. The entire hall fell into a deathly silence. I could hear the collective gasp of countless people. I was stunned. This wasn’t how the script was supposed to go! I just wanted to spill wine on him, not crack his head open! Leonard was equally bewildered. He looked down at me in his arms, then felt his wine-soaked hair, his eyes filled with confusion. “Wifey… is this… an overly passionate display of love?” I: “…” I wanted to die on the spot. Just then, something even more absurd happened. Leonard tripped over something else, dragging me down with him. We tumbled like rolling gourds, knocking over the champagne tower behind us. Crash! Hundreds of champagne flutes shattered on the floor, golden liquid splattering everywhere. The scene descended into utter chaos, like something out of a disaster movie. Leonard and I lay amidst the wreckage, drenched head to toe in champagne. I closed my eyes in utter despair. So this is what social death felt like. It was over. My sister’s mission failed, Leonard’s mission failed, and the honor of both the Swift and Hadley families was completely sunk in the Pacific Ocean today. I felt two deadly gazes from Olivia and Arthur, threatening to flay us alive. In the midst of the chaos, Leonard struggled to his feet and then pulled me up. I expected him to erupt in anger, or at least question me. Instead, he surveyed the wreckage, looked at our disheveled selves, and then, surprisingly, gave me a thumbs-up. His eyes were sparkling, filled with the excitement of having narrowly escaped death. “Wifey, well done!” I: “???” You call this well done? He leaned in, his voice a low, excited whisper: “My brother will definitely feel so sorry for me seeing us like this! He’ll think I suffered so much just to make you happy! This month’s bonus is guaranteed! No, it has to be double!” My brain crashed instantly. I looked at his sincere and radiant smile, then at my sister’s face, which looked ready to faint from sheer exasperation. I finally understood. Leonard’s and my thought processes were probably a galaxy apart. I tried to make him socially annihilate himself, but he thought I was helping him achieve his KPI. This battle was unwinnable. I, Lila Swift, surrendered.

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I was born with the ability to smell others’ desires. To avoid those foul scents, I married Alistair, the cleanest man I could find. His scent was like cool pine, and it hadn’t changed in three years. Until my birthday. He brought home a girl, claiming she was his long-lost sister. The pine scent on Alistair began to spoil, ferment, growing stronger day by day. Finally, when I pushed open the study door and was assaulted by a sickening, decaying stench that filled the room, I broke. I pulled out the pregnancy test results I’d prepared, calmly handing them to him. “Alistair, let’s get a divorce. The child isn’t yours.” … I clutched the thin paper, my fingertips icy. Alistair’s pine scent, for the first time, was tainted by another fragrance. A sickly sweet gardenia scent subtly entwined with his clean aura. It was the scent of Sera Hadley. I smiled at him, hiding the pregnancy test behind my back. During dinner, I sat beside Alistair, quietly observing Sera across from him. She wore a white dress, looking pure and harmless. She always found the perfect moment to say the most suggestive things in the most innocent tone. “Brother, do you remember? You always used to say when we were little that you’d marry a girl just like me.” Alistair’s movements paused, then he looked at her gently. “Of course, I remember.” My heart sank. The gardenia scent, mixed with the pine, grew denser, almost overpowering the aroma of the food. Sera suddenly gasped, her soup bowl tilting. The scalding broth spilled completely onto the back of her hand. “Ah!” Tears welled in her eyes from the pain, her skin instantly turning red. I was about to get up to grab the burn cream. Alistair had already leaped up like lightning, sweeping Sera into his arms. He didn’t even spare me a glance as he rushed upstairs to the bathroom, carrying her. “Don’t be scared, Sera, big brother will take care of it right away.” His voice was filled with urgency and concern. I stood alone by the messy dining table, looking at the spilled soup and broken crockery, feeling like an outsider. I silently cleaned up the mess, but faintly heard the sound of water from the upstairs bathroom. And Sera’s whimpering cries. The sounds were intermittent, ambiguous, making my stomach churn. A long time passed, long enough for me to clean the dining room spotless, before Alistair came downstairs, holding Sera. Her hand was bandaged, and her eyes were red as she leaned against him. “Eleanor, I’m sorry, I’ve caused trouble again.” I ignored her, looking only at Alistair. “Is her injury serious? Should I call the family doctor?” “No need, it’s just a minor burn. I’ve taken care of it.” Alistair’s tone was flat. I stared into his eyes. “You personally tended to her? In the bathroom?” Alistair’s brows furrowed, and the pine scent on him instantly grew several degrees colder. “Eleanor James, what are you implying?” “She’s my sister. She burned her hand. I helped her rinse it and apply medicine. Is there a problem?” “Can you not be so dirty-minded?” His words left me speechless. Yes, they were siblings. What exactly was I suspecting? But the intermingled scents, the ambiguous sounds of water, left me deeply unsettled. In the middle of the night, a nightmare woke me. Feeling the cold sheets beside me, I abruptly got up and walked to the guest room door. The guest room door was ajar. I pushed it open. Sera, wearing my pajamas, was curled up like a cat in Alistair’s arms. My husband, who should have been sleeping beside me, was gently holding her, stroking her back. Hearing the movement, Alistair slowly opened his eyes. Seeing me at the door, he showed no panic; instead, he frowned. “Why are you here?” His voice carried a hint of reproach. I pointed at Sera in his arms, my voice trembling. “Shouldn’t you explain yourself first?” “Why is she wearing my pajamas, sleeping in my husband’s arms?” Alistair sighed, his tone full of helplessness. “Sera had a nightmare tonight. I just came to comfort her.” “Eleanor, can’t you be a little kinder, show some understanding for a young girl like her?” “Be a little kinder” again. I almost didn’t recognize those words anymore! I closed my eyes, trying to calm my breathing. “Make her move out!” “I’ll find her the best apartment, hire the best nanny.” Alistair’s face instantly turned cold. “Impossible!” “This is Sera’s home too. She’s not going anywhere.” After saying that, he didn’t look at me again, re-closed his eyes, and hugged Sera in his arms even tighter. I stood at the doorway like an idiot, watching their intimate posture, feeling like I was suffocating. Back in the bedroom, I lay awake all night. It wasn’t until three in the morning that I was startled awake by a strange scent. I abruptly opened my eyes and saw a shadowy figure standing by my bed, silently staring at me. It was Sera. She was still wearing my pajamas, her long hair loose, looking ghostly in the dark. My heart pounded with fright. “What do you want?” She slowly bent down, leaned close to my ear, and whispered in a voice only we two could hear. “He was always mine.” “You’re the outsider.” With that, she straightened up, turned around, and calmly left my bedroom. I was cold all over, unable to sleep anymore. The next morning, when I used my face wash, my face suddenly stung. I quickly rinsed off the foam; my face in the mirror was already largely red and covered in tiny rashes. I picked up the bottle of face wash and sniffed it. Besides its original scent, there was a faint, irritating odor. My skincare products were all specially customized for my skin type; allergic ingredients were impossible. It had been swapped. I took the face wash downstairs and found Alistair eating breakfast. “Alistair, look at my face!” He looked up at my red and swollen face, his frown deepening. “What happened?” “It’s Sera! She swapped my face wash!” Alistair put down his knife and fork, took the bottle from my hand, and looked at it. “Isn’t this the brand you usually use?” “Eleanor James, are you becoming paranoid?” He put the bottle back on the table, a hint of impatience in his voice. “Maybe you just accidentally bought the wrong batch. Don’t blame everything on Sera.” Looking at this man who sided completely with someone else, confronting me, my thoughts drifted back to the past. Three years ago, I was an unknown perfumer. Alistair was a judge at that international perfume competition. He admired my talent; I fell in love with his purity. For him, I cut off all ties with my previous boyfriends. On our wedding night, he held me, and his pine scent was clearly intertwined with desire for me. I thought I had finally found the man I could entrust my life to. I thought our marriage, like his scent, would always remain pure. But a month ago, when Alistair excitedly told me he had found his long-lost sister, everything changed. Remembering Sera’s declaration last night, were they truly siblings? I stopped confronting them, put the matter aside, and went back to my room. I opened my laptop and, for the first time, clicked on Sera’s social media account. I scrolled back to three years ago. A photo popped up. It was a picture of her and a friend, the background being the venue of the perfume competition where Alistair and I first met. The caption read, “Met someone I really wanted to see, happy.” My heart sank little by little. I continued scrolling back and found that she had been following Alistair’s various activities for a long time. Every public event he attended, every post he made, she had liked. Even in the photos, the way she looked at him was filled with undisguised infatuation. This was not the look of a sister gazing at her brother. I closed the laptop, picked up my phone, and made a call. “Help me investigate Sera Hadley, and that paternity test between her and Alistair. I need to know the truth.” After hanging up, I felt all my strength drain away. Our wedding anniversary trip, originally scheduled for next week, was canceled. “Sera just arrived at our home. She’ll be scared alone. Let’s go next year.” I didn’t argue with him. It was useless to argue. Now, in his heart, Sera’s priority was always above mine. In the evening, I saw him return with a luxury brand bag. He casually placed the bag in the entryway, and Sera immediately rushed over like a little bird. “Wow! Brother, is this for me?” She pulled out a necklace from the bag, the pendant a uniquely designed star. It was a style I had casually mentioned I liked when shopping last month. At the time, Alistair had said it was too childish, not suitable for me. Now, this necklace was around Sera’s neck. She ran to Alistair, stood on her tiptoes, and tilted her head for him to see. “Brother, does it look good?” “Beautiful.” Alistair’s eyes held a tenderness I had never seen before. My heart felt like it was pricked by needles, an intense, throbbing pain. During the weekend family dinner, my in-laws were also present. At the table, Sera smiled sweetly, constantly serving the elderly couple food, her words dripping with honey. She deliberately brought up Alistair’s embarrassing childhood stories, describing them vividly, as if she had witnessed them firsthand. “Brother used to be so mischievous when he was little. Once he even broke the neighbor’s window, and I was the one who apologized for him.” I put down my chopsticks, looking at her coldly. “Didn’t you say you were separated for many years and only recently reunited?” “How would you know about his childhood?” The atmosphere at the table instantly froze. Sera’s face paled for a moment, then she tearfully reddened. “Eleanor, I… I just heard it from others.”

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At twelve, I was taken by men in black for protecting my young boyfriend from the orphanage. After six years of abuse by my adoptive parents, Craig Chen—a rising star in the capital’s elite circles—found me. Holding my scarred body, he apologized: “I’m sorry, I came too late.” We married quickly. On our wedding night, Craig pointed to a wall in his study covered in my photos, eyes red, and said: “I looked for you for six years. When my parents told me to forget you and tried to burn your pictures, I held a knife to my throat. I told them if they touched the photos, I’d die right there.” “I’ll make you the happiest woman in the world. You’ll never cry again.” We could snuggle all day or talk all night. I thought I’d escaped my nightmare. But Craig slowly stopped confiding in me. A new woman entered his life—Chloe, a gentle, capable Ivy League graduate, now his secretary. One evening, I overheard him murmuring softly on the phone: “Chloe, you really understand me.” Hanging up, he saw me and frowned coldly: “You’re as stupid as a pig. You can’t even organize a simple document?” He threw a file at me, his tone icy. “Chloe secured half the European market for me. And you? I built you a golden cage, yet you can’t even be a pretty ornament.” 1 I decided I needed to see Chloe for myself. I wanted to see what magic this girl possessed that made Craig say, “you understand me.” I drove to Craig’s company building and parked below, not going inside. I just sat in my car, watching the massive glass revolving door. At 5:30 PM, a girl in a white dress emerged. Her long hair cascaded over her shoulders, and a serene smile graced her face, making her seem as pure as a breeze. It was Chloe. I recognized her instantly; Craig’s phone wallpaper had been secretly changed to her. She seemed to be waiting for someone, looking down at her phone, a slight curve to her lips. I noticed her being harassed by a greasy middle-aged man. He was a business partner of Craig’s company, a notoriously difficult character I’d met before. “Ms. Li, just one drink, why be so ungracious?” The man blocked her path, his hand improperly reaching for her waist. Chloe frowned, dodging his attempt. A professional smile was on her face, but her tone was firm: “Mr. Davies, I really can’t handle alcohol. Next time, I’ll offer tea instead.” “Enough of that!” Mr. Davies’s face darkened. “You’ll drink tonight, whether you want to or not!” He reached out to grab Chloe’s wrist. I pushed open the café door and stepped inside. My high heels clicked crisply on the floor. I walked up to them, linked my arm through Chloe’s, and smiled at Mr. Davies. “Mr. Davies, what a coincidence.” Mr. Davies looked surprised to see me, then plastered on an obsequious smile: “Mrs. Chen, what brings you here?” “I’m meeting my sister for shopping. She’s a bit shy and not used to drinking with unfamiliar men,” I said, my tone calm but authoritative. Mr. Davies’s expression shifted several times before he grudgingly let go. “Oh, Mrs. Chen’s sister! My apologies, a complete misunderstanding.” He slinked away. “Sister, you… you’re amazing.” I smiled: “It was nothing.” She hurried over to me, took a business card from her bag, and handed it to me, her cheeks slightly flushed: “Sister, you saved me! I must treat you to dinner! Here’s my number, you absolutely have to call me!” She was sincere and enthusiastic, impossible to refuse. I looked into her clear eyes, my heart a complex mix of emotions. I had saved my rival. What kind of foolishness was this? 2 I intended to throw away that business card, but for some reason, I kept it. Three days later, Chloe called, her voice full of anticipation and warmth. “Sister, are you free today? My boss said he absolutely has to properly thank his rescuer. Shall we all have dinner together?” I gripped my phone, my heart squeezed by an invisible hand. Her boss. Craig Chen. “Alright,” I heard myself reply, my voice calm. I wanted to see what kind of battlefield it would be with the three of us sitting together. The restaurant was chosen by Chloe, a very stylish private dining establishment. I arrived first. Soon after, Chloe walked in, pulling a man with her. It was Craig. He wore a sharp black suit, so handsome he was impossible to look away from. The moment he saw me, the gentle smile on his face froze, his eyes instantly turning cold and unfamiliar. Chloe, oblivious, happily pulled him to me: “Sister, this is my boss, Craig Chen. Boss, this is the amazing sister who saved me!” I stood up, looking at Craig, waiting for him to speak. But he merely nodded curtly, pulled out a chair, and sat down, not looking at me once. The air was so awkward it could drip. Chloe, however, was like a cheerful little sun, trying hard to warm up the atmosphere. “Sister, you wouldn’t believe it, my boss is really super nice! And he’s incredibly devoted!” she said, looking at Craig with adoration. “He told me that when he was twelve, he met a girl at the orphanage. She was taken by bad guys while protecting him. He searched for her for six years, and he built this business empire just to find her.” My hands beneath the table clenched into fists, my nails digging deep into my flesh. Chloe continued: “He said that girl was his first love, the only person he ever wanted to marry. What a shame, it seems that girl broke up with him later. How short-sighted of her, to let go of such a wonderful man.” After she finished, she even gave Craig a sympathetic look. Craig picked up his teacup and took a sip. “Indeed,” he finally spoke, his voice indifferent, “some people are just ungrateful by nature.” I ate without tasting a thing throughout the dinner. It wasn’t until the meal concluded and Chloe went to the restroom that Craig finally stood up and walked over to me, looking down. “Scarlett, what game are you playing now?” His voice was as cold as ice. “Getting close to Chloe, what do you want?” “I don’t want anything,” I looked up, meeting his gaze. “I just want to know what makes her so much better than me, that’s all.” He scoffed. “She’s better than you in every way.” “She’s smart, capable, unlike you.” “Scarlett, you’d best stay away from her. Otherwise, I wouldn’t mind letting you taste what it’s like to have nothing again.” With that, he didn’t even look at me, turned, and walked away. Chloe conveniently emerged from the restroom, saw him, and happily ran over to link her arm through his. “Boss, let’s go.” “Mmm,” he replied, his voice resuming that familiar tenderness when speaking to her. Their retreating figures, side by side, pierced my heart. 3 After that dinner, Craig didn’t even bother to feign affection anymore. He stopped coming home. Chloe’s calls, however, came more and more frequently to me. She didn’t know I was Craig’s wife; she only saw me as a trusted sister with whom she could confide everything. “Sister Scarlett, Boss smashed his most cherished tea set for me today!” Chloe’s voice on the phone was a mix of shock and delight. “A client was being handsy with me, and Boss poured hot tea directly onto his face, saying he would never work with them again.” I gripped the phone, envisioning Craig’s face—a man with extreme mysophobia. He never allowed anyone to touch his belongings. Once, I accidentally brushed against his purple clay teapot, and he, in front of me, threw the entire million-dollar tea set, piece by piece, into the trash. He said, “It’s dirty.” “Sister Scarlett, Boss also took me to his private observatory! It was so romantic! He said it was his secret base and he only takes the most important people there.” That observatory was a gift Craig gave me for my eighteenth birthday. He had held me then, saying, “Scarlett, every star here shines just for you.” Now, he took another girl there, speaking the same sweet nothings. Even more ridiculous, Chloe meticulously recounted every detail of her dates with Craig to me. She would photograph every gift he gave her and send it to me. She would repeat every romantic word he said to her. She was like an innocent executioner, slicing my heart with the sweetest blade, cut by cut. And Craig, he tacitly allowed all of it. He even took Chloe’s calls in front of me without hesitation. One day, I was cutting fruit in the kitchen and accidentally cut my hand, bleeding profusely. Craig happened to come downstairs, saw the wound on my hand, frowned for a moment, then turned to get the first-aid kit. My heart fluttered; I thought he still cared. But just as he took out a bandage, ready to wrap my wound, his phone rang. It was Chloe. He immediately answered, his voice so gentle it could melt butter: “Chloe, what’s wrong?” Chloe’s tearful voice came from the other end: “Craig, I got a paper cut on my hand, it hurts so much.” “Don’t move, I’ll be right there!” He hung up, carelessly tossed the first-aid kit aside, didn’t even glance at me, grabbed his car keys, and rushed out. I stood there, looking at my still-bleeding finger and the scattered bandages on the floor. Blood dripped onto the floor, blooming into a small, desperate flower. I finally understood. It wasn’t that he wasn’t gentle, or that he didn’t have time. It was just that all his gentleness and time were given to someone else. And I couldn’t even compare to a scratch on her finger. Numbly, I cleaned my wound, then sent Craig a message. “Let’s get a divorce.” He didn’t reply.

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Desperate to pay my brother-in-law’s gambling debts, my mother-in-law and sister-in-law conspired with human traffickers. They stole my three-month-old son from his crib as I slept. I found him too late—frantic and broken. To avoid a police checkpoint, those monsters had smothered him in their car trunk. When I confronted my husband, he coldly covered my mouth. “Mom and Brenda were desperate. He’s gone now—can’t we just have another?” Brenda sneered, “He was just another mouth to feed. Selling him actually helped this family. You should thank me!” Overwhelmed by grief and rage, my heart stopped on the way to the police station. Then I opened my eyes. I was back in the night my son was taken. In the darkness, Martha and Brenda crept inside. “Hurry,” Brenda hissed. “The buyer said fifty thousand in cash tonight for a boy.” They grabbed the bundle from the crib and shoved it into the traffickers’ van. The next morning, Brenda counted a thick stack of bills, smirking triumphantly. “Alice, your boy just wasn’t meant for this world. He wandered off last night—try not to take it too hard.” I stared at her, confused, and pointed to the baby bassinet. “But… my baby is right here?” … My heart was hammering against my ribs, a frantic drum threatening to burst from my chest. I snapped my eyes open, staring at the familiar, shadowy ceiling. From the living room, hushed, urgent voices drifted in. “Come on, Mom, that miserable bitch is dead to the world. Let’s get this over with!” That was Brenda’s voice, sharp and cruel as always. Instinctively, my hand shot out to the space beside me in the bed. Empty. A tidal wave of panic crashed over me, cold and suffocating. But then, my mind cleared. I grabbed my phone from the nightstand and checked the time. 2:00 AM. The exact moment my son was taken from me in my previous life. I wasn’t dead. I was back. If I was being given a second chance, I would be damned if I let my son become that cold, bruised body in the back of a car again. The footsteps outside my door grew closer, punctuated by Martha’s trembling whisper. “But he’s a Miller… our blood…” “Bloodline this, bloodline that! If those loan sharks cut my husband up, there won’t be a Miller family left!” Brenda snapped back impatiently. I slipped out of bed, my bare feet silent on the cold floorboards. Pressing my ear to the door, I could hear them rummaging in the living room for the bottle of chloroform they’d prepared. Last time, they used it to make sure I was completely unconscious before they took my baby. That was my chance. I slid open the unlocked side door connecting my room to Brenda’s. A sliver of moonlight fell across her bed, illuminating her son, Kevin, sleeping like a little king. He was fat and pampered, sprawled out on his back, only two weeks older than my own child. As the first grandson, he was the family’s treasured prince. Brenda guarded him like a dragon, barely letting me get a glimpse of him. My baby, on the other hand, was seen as a burden. My difficult birth had cost the family a fortune in medical bills, and they never let me forget it. In three months, they hadn’t even bought him a decent pack of diapers. Looking at Kevin’s face, a perfect miniature of Brenda’s, a wild, brilliant idea exploded in my mind. If you’re so determined to sell a “Miller grandson,” then you’re going to sell the one that truly matters. The whole swap took less than two minutes. I was back in my bed, feigning sleep, just as the lock on my door clicked softly. Two shadows slipped into the room. The sweet, cloying scent of chloroform filled the air, and I held my breath. “Quick, quick!” Brenda whispered, eagerly pulling back a corner of the blanket. In the darkness, she didn’t bother to look closely. Her hand found the shape of a baby, and she scooped him up in one swift motion. “Hefty little thing. That’s our Miller stock for you,” Martha muttered with a hint of pride. “Stock? He’s just a sack of dead weight!” Brenda spat back, pulling a rough burlap sack over the baby’s head. Kevin let out a soft whimper in his sleep. “Shh! Don’t let him cry out!” Martha gasped, terrified. Brenda roughly clamped her hand over the sack’s opening. “Cry about what? This is fifty grand! He’ll be living like a king where he’s going!” Beside me, my husband, Rick, rolled over and mumbled, “So noisy… just get it done, Mom…” So he knew. He was in on it. Last time, when I was screaming, tearing my heart out, he told me our son had simply wandered off. This whole rotten family, this nest of vipers, they were all in on it together. I stared at Rick’s sleeping, deceitful face, and a firestorm of hatred roared to life inside me. I wanted to plunge a knife right into his chest. The two women tiptoed out, carrying the squirming burlap sack like thieves in the night. The front door clicked shut. I stared at my closed bedroom door, my nails digging so deep into my palms that they drew blood. Fifty thousand dollars. The price they put on my child’s life. Well, the deal is done. I hope you don’t tremble when you count your money, Brenda. The next morning, I was woken by loud, boisterous laughter from the living room. “Oh, my God, I’ve never seen so much cash!” Brenda’s voice was giddy with pure, unadulterated joy. I pushed my door open and walked out. The coffee table was covered in neat stacks of crisp hundred-dollar bills. Brenda was sitting cross-legged on the sofa, licking her thumb as she counted the money, her face split into a grotesque, triumphant grin. Martha sat beside her, shelling sunflower seeds. “Brenda, dear, is this enough to pay off the debt?” “Pay it off? There’s plenty left over!” Brenda grabbed a handful of bills and waved them in the air. “With this, I can buy whatever I want! I’m getting Kevin that expensive imported formula, no more of that cheap domestic crap for my boy!” Rick sat nearby, smoking a cigarette, his eyes glued to the money with a greedy gleam. When I stepped into the room, the joyful atmosphere instantly evaporated. Brenda froze, then quickly swept the cash behind her back, her expression shifting to one of theatrical sorrow. “Oh, Alice. You’re awake.” She stood up and walked over, patting my shoulder with fake sympathy. “Listen… there’s something I have to tell you. You need to be strong, okay?” I looked at her, my face a cold mask. “What is it?” “Well, the wind was really strong last night, must have blown your door open. When we woke up this morning… your baby was gone.” Brenda watched my face carefully for a reaction. “Must have been kidnappers. It’s a dangerous world out there. Try not to take it too hard. The boy was just unlucky, wasn’t meant to be yours.” Martha chimed in, “That’s right, Alice. What’s lost is lost. He was nothing but trouble anyway. Don’t go making a scene and bringing bad luck on the house. You’re young, you can have another one.” Rick stubbed out his cigarette, his voice laced with irritation. “That’s enough. Mom and Brenda are just trying to help. Stop looking so miserable, it’s depressing.” In my past life, those words would have sent me collapsing to the floor in a weeping heap. Now, I just found them pathetic. I walked to the kitchen counter, slowly poured myself a glass of water, and took a sip. “Oh? He’s missing?” I set the glass down, a small, ironic smile playing on my lips. “Brenda, are you sure it was my son who went missing?” My calm reaction threw her. Her eyes darted nervously. “What… are you in shock? Did you go crazy? Of course it was your son, who else would it be?” “That’s what’s so strange,” I said, turning and gesturing towards my bedroom door. “If he’s gone, then who’s that sleeping in my room?” The living room fell into a dead, suffocating silence. Brenda stared at me like I was insane. “What are you talking about? There’s someone in your room?” “If you don’t believe me, why don’t you go see for yourself?” I shrugged. Brenda’s eyes narrowed with suspicion. She shot a look at Martha, who looked just as bewildered. “Has she lost her mind?” “She’s probably hallucinating from the grief!” Brenda sneered, marching towards my room. “Let’s just see what kind of ghost you’ve conjured up!” She threw my door open. A few seconds passed. Then, a bloodcurdling scream tore through the house, sharp enough to shatter glass. “AAAAAHHH!!!” Brenda stumbled backward out of the room, her face pale as death. “Impossible… that’s impossible!” She pointed a trembling finger into my room. “That… that’s…” “That’s what?” I asked, crossing my arms, calmly watching her unravel. Suddenly, realization dawned on her face. She spun around and charged towards her own master bedroom. “My baby! My Kevin!” She kicked her door open and threw herself at the bed. A moment of silence, then a howl of agony that was even more desperate than her first scream. “He’s gone! My Kevin is gone!!!” Brenda burst back out, her hair a wild mess, clutching the empty baby blanket I had left for her. Her eyes were bulging from their sockets. “Alice! It was you! You hid my son, didn’t you!” she shrieked, lunging at me like a cornered animal. “Give me back my Kevin!” I sidestepped her attack and subtly stuck out my foot. Thud! Brenda went down hard, face-first, scattering the stacks of money across the floor. Red-and-green bills fluttered through the air like morbid confetti. “I have no idea what you’re talking about, Brenda,” I said, looking down at her pathetic, sprawling form. “My baby is sleeping peacefully in my room. How is it my fault that yours is missing?” I bent down, picked up a hundred-dollar bill that had landed by my foot, and flicked it with my finger. “Besides,” I added, my voice dripping with insinuation, “it looks like you came into quite a bit of money this morning. This fifty thousand dollars… you didn’t happen to sell something valuable to get it, did you?” Brenda, lying on the floor surrounded by her blood money, began to tremble violently. “You bitch! It had to be you!” Brenda scrambled to her feet, her whole body shaking with rage. Her mind, twisted by greed and panic, concocted a desperate theory. “You must have woken up this morning and found your baby gone! So you came and stole mine to cover it up!” At her words, Martha and Rick stared, dumbfounded. Martha’s sunflower seeds scattered across the floor. “Brenda… are you saying… that was Kevin?” “Yes, Mom! It was her! This bitch swapped them!” Brenda wailed. “She must have found her own kid missing and stole mine so she wouldn’t have to face the shame!” She howled and charged at me again. This time, I was ready. Just as her fingers were about to tangle in my hair, I grabbed the pot of freshly brewed coffee from the counter and flung its scalding contents directly at her face. “AAAGGGHHH!” Brenda shrieked, clutching her face and writhing on the floor. “Alice, you’re insane! I’ll kill you!” “Stop it!” Rick, who had been watching from the sidelines, finally snapped out of his stupor. He lunged forward, grabbing my wrist in a vice-like grip. “What the hell are you doing! That’s Brenda! How dare you!” he roared, his eyes bloodshot. “Have you no heart? Her son is missing, and you do this? Give him back to her right now!” I stared coldly at the man I once shared a bed with. This was the same hand that had covered my mouth, silencing my screams of grief. I looked him straight in the eye. “Rick, your nephew goes missing and you’re this frantic. A few minutes ago, when they told me my child was gone, what were you doing?” “Shut up! It’s not the same!” he yelled back, righteous and indignant. “Kevin is the first grandson! He’s the heir! Now apologize to Brenda and give the baby back!” “Give him back? Go to hell!” I couldn’t hold back any longer. I lowered my head and sank my teeth into the wrist that held me. “AGH! Let go! Are you a dog?!” Rick howled in pain, his face contorting. He instinctively released me and swung his hand, slapping me hard across the face. My cheek stung, burning with pain, but I smiled. That slap severed the last, fragile thread of hope I ever had for this man, for this family. “Go on! Hit me again! Kill me!” I spat out a mouthful of blood and saliva. “Kill me, and you can wait for the police to come collect all of your bodies!” The word “police” made Martha flinch as if she’d been electrocuted. “No… no police!” Brenda, ignoring the searing pain on her face, scrambled up, her skin red and blistering beneath the coffee grounds. She shoved past everyone and stormed into my bedroom. “That is my Kevin! You just changed his clothes! I’ll know him when I see him!” She lunged for the bassinet and snatched the sleeping baby out of it. Startled awake, the baby began to wail, a loud, piercing cry. It was definitely the cry of a healthy boy. A manic glint of joy lit up Brenda’s eyes. “It’s him! That’s Kevin’s cry! Alice, you lying snake! I’m going to tear you apart!” She clutched the baby and rushed back out into the living room. “Mom! Look! It’s Kevin!” I stood my ground, not moving a muscle, and calmly smoothed the collar of my shirt that Rick had pulled askew. “Brenda, you might want to take a closer look before you claim him.” My quiet words stopped her in her tracks. She jerked her head down, staring at the baby in her arms. The infant’s face was still wet with tears, but his features… though all babies look similar, a mother knows her child. She sees them every day. Brenda’s hands began to shake. “It’s not… why doesn’t he look right…” she muttered to herself, before frantically starting to pull at the baby’s diaper. “The birthmark! My Kevin has a birthmark on his thigh! And he’s a boy! He’s my boy!” Martha hurried over, her eyes, along with Brenda’s, fixated on the baby’s lower body. Rick, forgetting the bite on his hand, craned his neck to see. “Of course it’s Kevin! This bitch is just trying to scare us!” I didn’t stop them. With a sharp rip, Brenda tore the diaper off. In that instant, the air in the room seemed to freeze. All three of them went completely still. The triumphant grin on Brenda’s face curdled and died. Martha’s eyes widened, her lips trembling, unable to form a sound. And Rick looked like he’d been struck by lightning, his jaw hanging slack. The baby’s smooth, pale skin was on full display. There was nothing there. No tell-tale sign of a boy. No birthmark. It was a girl. Unmistakably a girl. “How… how can it be a girl…” Brenda’s voice was a ragged, strangled whisper. She couldn’t believe it, turning the baby over and over, her hands searching desperately for something that wasn’t there. It was useless. This was my daughter. The same daughter who, in my past life, was sold by this family without even being given a name, all because she was a girl. And now, she was the stone that would shatter their world. “No! This is impossible!” Brenda shrieked, dropping the baby back into the bassinet. She whipped her head around to face me, the veins in her eyes bulging. “Where is he! What have you done with my Kevin! Where did you hide him?!” I walked over, my heart aching as I gently picked up my crying daughter, soothing her against my shoulder. Then I looked up, my gaze as sharp and cold as a shard of glass. “Brenda, are you forgetting what you did last night?” My voice was soft, but it carried a bone-deep chill. “At two in the morning, you and Mom carried a baby out of this house. You stood right by the door and said he was a boy, worth fifty thousand dollars.” I stared at Brenda’s face, which had drained of all color, and I spoke each word with deliberate, crushing weight. “So if the baby in my arms is a girl,” “who exactly was the little boy you stuffed in a sack and sold for the fifty thousand dollars on that table?”

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I was a man of immense wealth, with a trust fund in the tens of billions. Money was the only thing I had left. Almost the entire city was under my ownership, including the tranquil retreat where my wife, Anna Hayes, resided. In my past life, Anna claimed she was a celestial maiden reincarnated, unfit for the company of men. She even demanded I undergo a vasectomy, and I, besotted, complied. Decades passed. When I was old, my hair white, and gravely ill, she stood over me. With her lover Sterling’s daughter and granddaughter by her side, she slowly, deliberately, pulled my oxygen tube. “Sterling dedicated his life to raising our children for me, yet he always had to remain in the shadows. All of this, Simon, is because of you.” Her voice was cold, devoid of emotion. “I’ve grown tired of being your wife. All of your fortune, after you die, will belong to Sterling and our children.” Then, I opened my eyes. I was back. Back to the day my father, on his deathbed, instructed me to draw lots for my future bride. Now, I would watch. Without my bottomless pockets, could Anna Hayes still so serenely play her part as the celestial maiden? 1. My father lay on his deathbed, his voice weak but firm. “After I’m gone, only your wife and children will be by your side. That’s why the marriage lottery list is full of suitable young women from prominent families. You cannot be reckless this time, Simon.” In my past life, everyone knew I, Simon McKinnon, was my father’s only son, heir to billions, and notoriously uninterested in business. Every family wanted their daughter to marry into the McKinnon fortune. Matchmakers practically wore a path to our door, so my father devised the marriage lottery. But I, in my foolish infatuation, fell for the seemingly gentle and virtuous Anna Hayes. Without my father’s knowledge, I secretly added her name to the list. Now, knowing my father had only thirty minutes left, I choked back my tears. “Dad, I have someone I like, but it’s not Anna. She won’t care about our family’s money, and she’ll be good to me.” I swallowed hard. “So, I’ve decided to cancel the marriage lottery.” My father’s dim eyes suddenly flickered with a spark of light. “You’ve grown up, Simon. Do as you wish. I can finally rest and join your mother.” With those words, he closed his eyes. The news of his passing spread quickly. Soon after, I received a message from her. “Are you alright?” Remembering everything she did for me in my past life, I impulsively typed a reply: “No. I’m waiting for you to come back and marry me.” After that, I received no more messages from her. At my father’s funeral, Anna Hayes wasted no time making demands. “I am the reincarnation of a celestial maiden, Simon. I cannot be touched by worldly desires, especially not a man’s. If you marry me, you must remain celibate for life and undergo a vasectomy. It’s the only way to show the world my devotion to spiritual studies.” Seeing Anna’s haughty expression, I couldn’t help but ache for the fool I was in my past life. She claimed to love the tranquility of a temple, so I invested millions to build a grand Zen retreat for her. She spoke of ancient scriptures, and I spent a fortune lighting ceremonial lamps and acquiring priceless historical texts. I even funded a media company to promote her image as a “celestial maiden,” making her a household name. And what did she do in return? While I grieved my father’s death, she was secretly with her lover, Sterling Fumero, using my money to buy him luxury watches and sports cars. She even bore his child behind my back while I was away on business. The memories of my past life’s betrayal surged, and I barely suppressed a furious urge to throw her out. “You’re dreaming,” I said, my voice cold. “I have no intention of marrying you. You’re not welcome here. Leave.” Anna remained unperturbed, instead lecturing me. “Simon McKinnon, everyone dies eventually. Your father is dead, so what? Is there any need for such grief? I dislike your tone when you speak to me.” “As a celestial maiden’s partner, one must be detached from life and death. The money spent on your father’s funeral alone could gild a statue of Buddha. If you ask me, mixing your father’s ashes into fertilizer would be a far greater act of merit.” If I hadn’t been reborn, I might have believed her outrageous lies. Anna wasn’t a celestial maiden. She was a greedy, worthless parasite, and every penny she asked for was used to buy lavish mansions abroad. “Simon, I think Anna is right. Once old people are gone, they’re no better than fertilizer. You’re being far too extravagant.” I turned to see Sterling Fumero approaching, draped in a monk’s robe, affecting an air of false piety. I had planned to deal with Anna and Sterling after the funeral. But it seemed they were eager to walk straight into their own humiliation. In my past life, Sterling had posed as a devoted follower of Anna’s teachings, feigning friendship with me. He’d moved into my house after my father’s death, claiming to offer spiritual comfort, when in reality it was to facilitate his affair with Anna. He stole my luxury watches and cars while I was away, selling them for profit. He even drugged my food with hormones, weakening me and driving me into depression. “How my father’s funeral is handled is none of your business.” Sterling ignored my sharp retort, simply assuming I was upset about my father. “Simon, why don’t I move in with you? I can chant scriptures for you. Believe me, a house where someone has died is full of bad energy. Only a pure soul like me wouldn’t mind.” My face was a stone mask. “The only bad energy here comes from the two of you.” Seeing my unyielding attitude, Sterling adopted a wounded, humble expression. “Anna, I don’t know what I’ve done to offend Simon.” Anna’s brow furrowed in concern. She clearly felt sympathy for him. “Simon McKinnon, apologize!” Sterling continued to play the victim. “It’s alright, Anna.” He then reached out to pat my shoulder. In my past life, at my father’s funeral, I’d nearly suffocated from a severe pollen allergy. It had to have been Sterling’s doing. If I died, he would be free to be with Anna. I seized his wrist, and sure enough, found pollen dust hidden under his fingernails. “I have a severe pollen allergy, and you’re carrying pollen under your fingernails. Are you trying to kill me? A devout follower of the Buddha, so malicious?” Sterling was momentarily speechless, then stammered defensively. “I didn’t! It was an accident! I don’t even eat meat, how could I harm anyone? Anna, help me!” Anna interceded immediately. “Simon McKinnon, Sterling has explained himself. Release him at once.” I sneered, my gaze falling on the diamond watch on Sterling’s wrist. “The pollen was an ‘accident,’ but where did this diamond watch come from? It was my mother’s. Sterling Fumero, you’ve got nerve, stealing something worth a fortune. One word from me, and you’ll spend the rest of your life in prison!” Sterling’s face went white. He shot a panicked look at Anna. Anna showed no hint of remorse, speaking loudly and defiantly. “I gave him that watch! Sterling diligently studies spiritual teachings, and I rewarded his hard work. What’s wrong with that? Your possessions are my possessions. I know you dream of marrying me. Your property is my property, and I have every right to dispose of it!” I ripped the diamond watch from his wrist. “Then let me formally inform you, I no longer want you. You will receive no further assistance from the McKinnon family. Now take your lover and get out!” Sterling looked heartbroken at the loss of the watch. Anna’s face was beet red with fury. “What nonsense are you spouting? How dare you tarnish my relationship with Sterling! Lover? He is merely my devoted follower.” She then changed tack, her voice regaining a condescending tone. “Simon McKinnon, out of pity for you being an orphan, I’ll overlook this. Go home and copy ten sutras. Bring them to me tomorrow morning for inspection. Otherwise, I won’t come to the marriage lottery, much less marry you.” After causing a scene at my father’s funeral, the two of them left. Once I had dealt with all the funeral arrangements, I called my secretary. “Ethan, cut off all of Anna Hayes’s credit cards.” The next morning, I began my rounds, inspecting the company’s department stores, stabilizing morale. Not far away, in a high-end boutique, Anna and Sterling were shopping. “Darling, I like this one, and this one too,” Sterling cooed. Anna, indulging him, said, “This entire mall is ours, my love. Buy whatever you desire.” She handed her bank card to the sales assistant. A moment later, the assistant returned. “Madam Hayes, your card has been frozen.” Anna’s smug expression instantly twisted into one of mortified embarrassment. “Impossible! My card has an unlimited limit! You must have made a mistake.” The assistant re-swiped it in front of her. The computer screen clearly displayed “FROZEN.” Sterling whispered, “Did you tell Simon you wouldn’t attend the marriage lottery? Is this his way of putting pressure on you?” Just as he finished speaking, Anna spotted me. She marched towards me, her face contorted with accusation. “Simon McKinnon, I told you to copy ten sutras as penance, and I would consider forgiving you. But you just keep making mistakes.” “You’re resorting to such low-brow tactics as freezing my bank account, just to force me to marry you!” I chuckled. Who gave her this incredible self-confidence? “Copying sutras as penance? Does Buddha know you’re buying a hundred thousand dollar limited edition watch for your lover? How many sutras would you need to copy for that? You’re just a fake celestial maiden, a real gold-digger.” Without warning, Anna’s hand swung, slapping me across the face. “You’re just trying to make a scene! All you want is to force me to marry you! I told you I’m a celestial maiden, I can’t be touched by men, I can’t even have children! Agreeing to be with you all these years was an act of charity and pity!” I was about to retaliate when a crowd of reporters swarmed us. “Mr. McKinnon, are these intimate photos of you?” “Is it true you sent these private photos to seduce the celestial maiden?” Ignoring the stinging pain on my face, I quickly examined the photos the reporters thrust at me. At first, I was momentarily confused, but then I realized I had never taken such explicit photos. Then I saw Sterling Fumero’s smug grin. Was this his revenge for the diamond watch? Sterling stepped forward, feigning concern, but his words were meant to pour fuel on the fire. “Everyone, please don’t spread these photos. These are Simon’s private matters.” His statement indirectly confirmed that the person in the photos was me. The reporters immediately turned their microphones towards him. “It seems you’re an insider. Tell us, does Simon McKinnon truly have strange fetishes, craving women so desperately he needs three a night when he can’t have the celestial maiden?” “And the internet says Simon McKinnon often abuses you. Is that true?” Sterling immediately adopted the posture of a victim. “Please, don’t ask me anymore. Simon warned me not to speak out, otherwise I’d…” He trailed off, looking at me with feigned terror. “Simon, did I say something wrong? Please, I beg you, don’t hold my head underwater again, don’t stick needles in my fingers!” He then began slapping himself in the face in front of the horrified journalists. Sterling’s performance was disturbingly convincing. The reporters’ eyes turned to me, filled with disgust. “These wealthy elites truly treat people like dirt.” “He’s inhumane! Someone like this should be exposed!” I tried to calm them. “Sterling is spreading rumors. Everyone, please calm down. The photos are fake.” Seeing my earnest expression and sincere tone, the reporters’ anger subsided slightly. But then Anna stepped forward. “He did try to seduce me. And he even snatched Sterling’s watch. If a man like this takes over the McKinnon family, it will surely crumble.” With her words, the reporters’ last shred of doubt vanished. That night, multiple media outlets ran stories about me. The internet erupted. My personal information was doxxed, my phone bombarded with hate messages and threats. Obscene deepfake videos of me circulated on obscure websites. Even my mail was ripped open and vandalized. My company’s stock plummeted, losing hundreds of millions in just a few days. This was mere pocket change to me, but I was burning with fury at Anna and Sterling for their underhanded tactics. I discussed a counter-strategy with my company’s legal and PR teams. It was past ten when I finally returned home. “Just getting back now? Do you have any idea how bad your reputation is?” Anna was sitting on my sofa, speaking to me as if she were the owner and I, the dog. I was about to ask how she got in when I remembered: I hadn’t changed the fingerprint lock yet. “Get out of my house,” I said coldly. Anna ignored me, pointing to a document on the table. “This is a property transfer agreement. All your houses, cars, and company shares are to be transferred to my name.” I almost laughed at her audacity.

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The day my mother received her critical condition notice, I knelt before Cathy, my girlfriend of seven years, begging her to save my mom. Fifty dollars. It was barely the cost of one of Cathy’s fancy dinners. But at that moment, it was my mother’s life. After she refused, my forehead was bruised and bleeding from desperation. “I’ll do anything, Cathy, please! My mother is all I have left!” Cathy simply turned and walked away, not even sparing me a glance. Yet that very night, she spent three thousand dollars, showering her childhood friend, Ethan, with a thousand online ‘carnival’ gifts on his live stream, fueling his dream of becoming an internet celebrity. My mother passed away. I broke up with Cathy. Five years later, we met again at the grand opening of an exclusive luxury apartment complex. She was clinging to Ethan’s arm, looking down at me with disdain. “What? Five years later, have you fallen so far you’re selling real estate? Or are you deliberately waiting here, hoping to see me again?” “Forget it. Even if you knelt and begged me to come back now, I wouldn’t even bother looking at you.” But then my billionaire wife stood beside me, and Cathy exploded in a furious rant. “Adrian Winters! It’s only been five years since we broke up! How could you get married to someone else!” 1. I saw Cathy again at the grand opening of the Grandview Residences. Cathy was basking in the adoration of the crowd, clinging to Ethan Thorne’s arm. “Ms. Sedgwick is here today? I assume you’re picking out a home for yourself and your fiancé?” “Is this your fiancé, Ms. Sedgwick? He’s so handsome! I hear you two are childhood sweethearts. Truly a match made in heaven.” “This is a top-tier development by the renowned Bright Group from Emerald City. Only a luxury home in such a prime location is fitting for Ms. Sedgwick and her fiancé.” Cathy chuckled softly, covering her mouth with her hand. “Thank you, everyone. Please do grace us with your presence at our wedding.” I stood not far from them, observing the pair surrounded by the eager crowd with a cold gaze. The Grandview Residences was a development by my wife, Maya Bright. Maya had returned to Emerald City for some business a few days ago, so I was here to oversee the grand opening for her. Just then, my eyes met Cathy’s. She hesitated for a moment, then let out a small laugh and walked towards me, still clinging to Ethan. “I thought I’d mistaken you for someone else. But it really is you, Adrian Winters.” “What? Five years on, you realize you still can’t forget me, so you came here specifically to wait for me?” I was about to shake my head and deny it, but Cathy scoffed again. “The cheapest apartment at Grandview Residences costs five million dollars. You’re not going to tell me you’re here to buy a place, are you?” The sycophantic crowd that had been fawning over Cathy followed her, their expressions turning curious as they looked at me. “Ms. Sedgwick, who is this gentleman?” Cathy shot me a cold glance, then looked away without speaking. But Ethan spoke up then. “I don’t think you all know him, do you?” He paused for dramatic effect. “This is Mr. Adrian Winters. He’s the son of Cathy’s family’s former housekeeper. No one important, really. Nothing to worry about.” Cathy sneered. “Why even bother introducing him to everyone? Is he even worth it?” Cathy’s voice was icy, her disdain and revulsion undisguised. It was the exact same tone she’d used five years ago when she accused me of only wanting her money. Five years ago, my mother lay on the operating table, clinging to life, waiting for money to save her. I knelt before Cathy, my forehead bruised and bleeding. Cathy had looked at me with that same contemptuous gaze. “Ethan told me, and I didn’t believe it at first. But you really were with me just for my money.” “Adrian Winters, Adrian Winters, to stoop so low for a measly fifty dollars, I really underestimated you.” “Tell me, why are you so materialistic, so impatient? It disgusts me.” My thoughts were interrupted by a middle-aged couple by the display models. “Where’s the sales agent? Come tell us about this apartment.” My mind snapped back to the present. I couldn’t be bothered with Cathy and Ethan anymore. I walked directly to the couple. “Hello, do you have any questions about the property? I can answer them for you.” 2. The Grandview Residences was the most exclusive and sought-after property in the city. Whether people were there to buy a home or simply to rub shoulders with Maya Bright, the sales hall was packed. The sales agents were overwhelmed, and some potential clients were inevitably overlooked. After I answered a few questions for the middle-aged couple, they nodded in satisfaction and moved on to look at other properties. Just then, Cathy’s cold sneer echoed in my ears again. “Adrian Winters, after all these years, you still haven’t amounted to anything. Have you really fallen so low that you’re selling houses?” “You were a top student at the Academy of Finance back then. What kind of career is selling real estate? Are you really so content to waste your potential?” I glanced at Cathy. “I’m not a sales agent. I’m…” Before I could finish, Ethan wrapped an arm around Cathy’s waist, a dazzling, mocking smile on his face, cutting me off. “Cathy, don’t you know Adrian? He’s much smarter than you or I. How could he simply be here to sell houses?” “Grandview Residences is prime real estate, a gold mine. Look at the people who are here today.” “Adrian, Adrian, I can’t believe after all these years, you’re still dreaming of being a kept man.” I was tired of their endless taunts. I looked at them with a cold, unyielding gaze. “Kindly put an end to your sordid speculations. I find them repulsive.” I turned to walk away, but Cathy blocked my path. “Running away because we hit a nerve? Adrian Winters, five years, and you’re still the same. Is money truly so important to you?” “Don’t you feel ridiculous, trying to worm your way in here like this?” Ethan walked up to me, smiling. “You didn’t happen to hear that Cathy was coming today, and decided to wait here for her, did you?” “It’s been five years. Are you still pining for Cathy? If your feelings for her were so deep, why did you break up with her over fifty dollars back then?” “Or have you not found anyone better than Cathy in these five years, and now you want her back? You’re not trying to make Cathy your backup, are you?” “It’s okay, Adrian. What happened back then is in the past. Cathy and I are getting married soon. We’ll invite you to the wedding.” Hearing Ethan’s words, Cathy’s face clouded with anger. Her voice was even sharper than before. “What? You broke up with me over fifty dollars, then went off living like a playboy for five years, and now you’ve realized I was the best for you?” “Adrian Winters, Adrian Winters, you truly never change. In your eyes, there’s nothing but money.” “Alright, now get lost! Don’t stand there and annoy us!” Cathy gestured to her assistant, who quickly handed her a bank card. Cathy flung it hard at my face. The card clattered to the floor with a sharp sound. “This card has two hundred dollars on it. It’s not a small sum for you, so you won’t leave empty-handed today.” “Now, take the money and scram. Stop wasting your energy on me.” “Ethan’s right. People like you, with nothing but money on their minds, we’re simply not on the same level.” 3. I stared at the bank card on the floor. Although I had long since lost all affection for Cathy, a wave of baseless sorrow washed over me. Five years ago, I was Cathy’s boyfriend of seven years. Ethan was her childhood friend. But when my mother was on her deathbed, Cathy wouldn’t even lend me fifty dollars. Fifty dollars wasn’t a small amount to me. But for Cathy Sedgwick, the only daughter of the powerful Sedgwick family, it was nothing more than the cost of a single bottle of wine. She refused to lend me fifty dollars, but that very night, she spent three thousand dollars, showering a thousand ‘carnival’ gifts on Ethan, who dreamed of becoming an internet celebrity. Five years later, Ethan wore a seven-figure watch and drove a ten-million-dollar sports car. And she, Cathy, tossed me two hundred dollars with a disdainful air of charity. How utterly ridiculous. I looked up, meeting Cathy’s eyes, and let out a cold laugh. “Do I look like I’m short on money?” Cathy glanced at me, her eyes sweeping over me as if I were a pile of trash. “Not short on money? If you’re not short on money, why are you selling houses? If you’re not short on money, why are you slumming it here today, trying to hook up with some old rich woman?” “Adrian Winters, Adrian Winters, you’re just as stubborn as you were five years ago. You claimed you weren’t after my money, yet you broke up with me over fifty dollars. It’s disgusting.” I couldn’t be bothered to argue with her any further. “Cathy, where do you get the confidence to think I’d still be pining for a woman like you?” “I’ve been married for three years. This is my wife’s development. I’m simply here to check on things today.” “You’re nothing but a clown. What right do you have to speak to me like this?” Maya was due back today. Calculating the time, she should be arriving soon. Given Maya’s jealous nature, if I continued to get tangled up with Cathy, I’d be in for a rough night. My words were blunt, and Cathy’s chest heaved with anger. The surrounding crowd, however, erupted in a loud burst of laughter. “Hahahaha, what is this lunatic talking about? His wife’s development? Does he even know who the developer of this property is?” “This is Ms. Bright’s development! Ms. Bright is a force to be reckoned with, a powerful figure in Emerald City! A single word from her could turn the city upside down. How dare he say such a thing?” “We’re here today buying houses precisely because we want to connect with Ms. Bright, aren’t we? For him to bluster like this, it’s truly laughable.” Ethan quickly patted Cathy’s back, trying to comfort her. “It’s okay, Cathy. I know you’re kind enough to offer Adrian money, but maybe Adrian is telling the truth. Perhaps he genuinely isn’t short on money now.” “Look at the clothes he’s wearing. There are no labels, but they clearly look like they’re made by a top Italian tailor. He must indeed be doing quite well for himself.” “You don’t always have to think about helping him. He probably has his own connections now. Don’t worry so much.” Hearing Ethan’s words, Cathy’s expression abruptly darkened, her voice even lower than before. “Adrian Winters, have you really latched onto an older woman? Ha, it seems your little tricks do work sometimes. You actually managed to snag a sugar mommy.” “Alright, I’ll let bygones be bygones. If you want to be a kept man, then be mine.” “Serving me would surely be a better choice than serving those old women, wouldn’t it?” Ethan’s face immediately turned grim. I was content to watch them tear each other apart. I cast a sidelong glance at Cathy. “Oh? What’s this, Ms. Sedgwick? Are you still pining for me?” “Well, I suppose it’s natural. We were together for several years, so it’s understandable that you’d still think of me.” The moment my words left my lips, a flicker of embarrassment crossed Cathy’s eyes. My heart gave a start. Had I hit the nail on the head? For a moment, I didn’t know how to react. Suddenly, my thoughts were pulled back twelve years, to when I was eighteen. On my eighteenth birthday, Cathy stood before me, her cheeks flushed with shyness. “Adrian, I like you.” “I promise I’ll always be good to you.” The young girl’s eyes were resolute, as if all the stars in the sky had fallen into them, shining with an almost terrifying intensity. In that instant, my heart softened completely. As if by some strange impulse, I nodded, and we began our relationship. Looking at the crowd before me, I felt a dizzying sense of overwhelm. “I need to use the restroom.” Ethan quickly chimed in. “Perfect, I need to go too. I’ll go with Adrian.” The restroom was public, so I couldn’t stop Ethan. I didn’t object. It was just a trip to the restroom; surely nothing would happen. Ethan left the restroom shortly after he arrived. I paid no mind, simply washed my hands and walked out. But as I reached the restroom door, the commotion outside caught my attention. “This Adrian Winters, how can he be so light-fingered? Mr. Thorne kindly invited him to the restroom, and he actually stole Mr. Thorne’s watch!”

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I was raised by the powerful Ashworth family, though I was just their adopted daughter. My older sister, Eleanor, found me in a rubbish heap and, despite immense pressure from everyone, raised me. But then the supposed ‘true’ heir returned. … She cursed Eleanor, accusing her of usurpation, and had her cruelly tortured and killed. The Ashworth parents stood by, cold and indifferent, while their son secretly snickered. They murdered the best sister in the world. None of them deserve to live in peace. The day I learned of Eleanor’s death, I rushed back from out of town. Nearly seventy-eight hours without sleep, I almost collapsed when I saw her broken, bruised body. “Mommy, Elly… Eleanor died so terribly. It’s all my fault. If I hadn’t asked her to come back for my things, she wouldn’t have been assaulted and killed by those thugs. Waaah, Mommy, it’s all my fault…” Charlotte, in a frilly pink princess dress, clung to Mrs. Ashworth’s slender waist. Her eyes were red, her voice choked, but not a single tear fell. Eleanor, her wealthy mother, stroked Charlotte’s smooth, long hair, comforting her. “It was Eleanor’s bad luck, darling. How could it be your fault? Please stop crying, Mommy’s heart aches for you!” William Ashworth crunched on a lollipop, looking at Eleanor’s tattered corpse with undisguised disgust, a smirk playing on his lips. “Sis, don’t be sad over a stranger! It’s for the best she’s dead, saves her from meddling in everything. She never knew her place! Just a fake! She tricked us for years; it’s her own terrible fate!” “William! Don’t say that, Faith is still here.” Charlotte glanced at me fearfully, quickly retracting her gaze. William scoffed, “She’s just the adopted girl that fake brought back. Sis, why are you scared of her?” Mr. Ashworth, Arthur, shot him a fierce glare, and William turned away, falling silent. Arthur walked over to me. His features were refined, but his face showed no trace of sorrow. He simply stated, “The police are still hunting those thugs. They will pay for your sister’s life.” Pay for her life? I numbly lifted my eyes to look at the three of them. Their expressions varied, but none held an ounce of grief. Did they truly believe I knew nothing? The three Ashworths, in cahoots, took my sister’s life, and now they planned to pin it on some random thugs? They killed Eleanor. Not one of them will get away with it. I will make them pay with blood. I was seven when Eleanor found me. It was a brutal winter, and I was in a thin shirt, fighting stray dogs for scraps in a rubbish heap. Passersby avoided me, looking at me as if I were something filthy. When I finally managed to snatch a piece of stale bread from a dog’s mouth, I ravenously took a bite, then pulled my clothes tighter. I looked up and saw Eleanor. She wore a pristine white dress, extending her hand to me, a smile in her eyes. She looked like an angel. She said, “Little one, do you want to come home with me?” Later, I learned she was Eleanor Ashworth, the daughter of the powerful Ashworth family in the capital. Eleanor brought me back to the Ashworth mansion. I always thought wealthy people could do whatever they wanted, but Eleanor’s life in the Ashworth family wasn’t easy. She knelt outside for two days before Mr. Ashworth reluctantly agreed to adopt me. His condition was that he would arrange every aspect of Eleanor’s future life. Arthur sat high above, looking at me as if I were a small pet he could play with at will. Eleanor raised me. She was the most important person in my life. Eleanor was smart, brilliant, and she sheltered me under her wing, protecting me from any harm. Even though her own life in the Ashworth family was far from perfect. Eleanor barely tolerated her, and William despised her. Eleanor was merely a daughter of the Ashworths in name. When I was seventeen, Charlotte dramatically arrived with a DNA report, yelling at Eleanor, calling her a shameless imposter who had usurped her identity for years. That’s when I found out she was the true Ashworth heir, and Eleanor was merely a changeling. But to me, Eleanor was simply Eleanor. Eleanor was the best person in the world. If anyone harmed her, I would take their life. Charlotte was right; I was Eleanor’s loyal dog. A dog willing to do anything for her. I always repay kindness, and I always exact vengeance. After Eleanor’s death, the Ashworth family insisted on cremating her body immediately, claiming it was to let her rest in peace. It was as if they were desperate to hide some unspeakable secret. William sat with one leg crossed over the other, carelessly playing on his phone at Eleanor’s funeral, muttering curses at his teammates. His loud, obnoxious voice disturbed Eleanor’s peace. In the past, Eleanor would have curbed his behavior, and his resentment, having been controlled by her since childhood, festered. He had wished for her early demise. Charlotte was unlike Eleanor. She never disciplined William; instead, she constantly flattered and pleased him, which William enjoyed, making him even more reckless. I walked up to him, snatched his phone, and smashed it on the ground. William shrieked, lunging at me. “Faith Ashworth, are you out of your mind! Why did you smash my phone!” I kicked him away and slapped him hard across the face. The commotion drew immediate attention. Charlotte quickly squeezed next to William, exclaiming, “Faith! What are you doing! William was just playing a game. Even if you dislike him, you shouldn’t take it out on him! William is the Ashworth heir, after all! If you have any grievances, take them out on me!” Charlotte shielded William, feigning nobility. She wiped away an imaginary tear. “I know you look down on me. I’m just a child Mommy recently found, so I didn’t receive a good education before, naturally, I can’t compare to Eleanor. But, Faith! You don’t have any blood relation to the Ashworths. How can you bully William?” Charlotte appeared delicate, but subtly mocked me as a mere adopted daughter, an outsider. I saw the hidden triumph in her eyes. I knew Charlotte was always like this. She loved to feel superior to me, satisfying her vanity. Those who came to mourn Eleanor heard Charlotte’s words and began to murmur, mostly siding with Charlotte. After all, the true heir had returned, and they had to play along, didn’t they? It wasn’t worth offending the true heir for an adopted daughter like me. Charlotte, hearing the crowd’s agreement, became even more smug, unable to hide the smile at the corner of her lips. So outwardly pleased, she couldn’t even compare to Eleanor. Her smugness made her tone towards me considerably worse. “Faith, since Eleanor is dead, there’s no need for you to stay at the Ashworths anymore. I think you should pack your bags and leave now, save us the trouble of seeing you!” Charlotte’s mouth kept going, and when she uttered those words, everyone fell silent. Even William, hiding behind her, stared wide-eyed, completely astonished. Charlotte, however, didn’t notice. I looked at her, like a clown, and couldn’t help but chuckle. I certainly wanted to leave the Ashworth family, but it was Arthur himself who had insisted I stay. The reason I had lived comfortably in the Ashworth family for so many years, with no one daring to touch me, was not without cause. How could Charlotte, a newly found heir, think she could step all over me? By dreaming? “Rare to see you so quiet? Usually, you’re quite sharp-tongued, aren’t you?” A teasing voice came from behind me. I didn’t need to turn around to know who it was. It was Sterling, the new head of the Sterling family. The Sterlings were a venerable, powerful family; the Ashworths barely registered in comparison. Sterling was quite fond of me. Arthur, desperate to cling to the Sterling family, had tried every possible way to keep me. Besides, could Arthur alone truly hold the Ashworth Group so firmly? Wasn’t it largely thanks to my assistance? Seeing I didn’t speak, Sterling dropped his jovial expression. He looked down at Charlotte, who stood in front of me. Honestly, Sterling was very handsome. Charlotte blushed, stepped forward, pushing me aside, and shyly extended her hand to Sterling. “Hello, sir, my name is Charlotte Ashworth, the daughter of the Ashworth family. May I have the honor of knowing your name?” I looked at the posturing Charlotte, feeling a slight amusement. Charlotte had only recently returned to the Ashworth family and hadn’t met many people in high society. It was natural she wouldn’t know that the young man in front of her was the head of the Sterling family. Sterling turned to Arthur, who stood behind him with a livid face, and said calmly, “Is this the Ashworth daughter? She truly lacks refinement.” Charlotte’s smile finally faltered. Arthur stepped forward and slapped her across the face. Despite Charlotte’s shocked expression, he still couldn’t help but speak up for her. “Charlotte has only recently returned; please don’t take offense.” When Eleanor was alive, if she made a mistake, she would never have gotten off with just a simple slap, let alone someone speaking up for her. Arthur was much kinder to Charlotte than to Eleanor. But Charlotte showed no gratitude. Her eyes red, she opened her mouth to argue with Arthur. Eleanor quickly covered her mouth, whispering a few comforting words, and Charlotte finally relented. Sterling winked at me, then followed Arthur to the back room. Seeing Arthur finally leave, Charlotte, her eyes red and full of rage, came up to me, looking as if she wanted to flay me alive. “You’re happy to see me make a fool of myself, aren’t you! Just you wait and see!” I didn’t expect Charlotte to take over Eleanor’s room after the funeral. Eleanor’s room wasn’t even half the size of Charlotte’s master bedroom, but Charlotte insisted on having all of Eleanor’s belongings thrown out. “It’s perfect; I need a study. Eleanor is dead anyway, so I’ll use her room. Keeping dead people’s things is bad luck, so I might as well throw everything out. Otherwise, it would just make me sad to look at them later.” I knelt on the floor, my hands trembling as I picked up a glass bottle Eleanor cherished. It was filled with beautiful fine sand. But now the glass jar was shattered, and the sand was scattered across the floor. She folded her arms and scoffed, “Yesterday, if it weren’t for you, I wouldn’t have made a fool of myself in front of Sterling! I’m warning you, Sterling’s future wife will be me, and only me. What do you even think you are?” She finished speaking and walked away, arms crossed. I ignored her. I meticulously picked up Eleanor’s things from the floor. A housemaid nearby sighed, then, unable to bear it, knelt down to help me. I recognized her; she had practically raised Eleanor. The housemaid comforted me, “They’re both daughters, but when Miss Eleanor was young, Mrs. and Mr. barely cared for her. Why are they so concerned about her now?” She spoke indignantly on Eleanor’s behalf. I tightened my grip on a shard of glass and looked in the direction Charlotte had disappeared. She wouldn’t be smug for long. The rural couple who raised Charlotte, I discovered during my investigation, were distant cousins of Arthur. This couple had never ill-treated Charlotte since she was a child, but being rural folk, they harbored some ingrained patriarchal beliefs. Their only biological son recently started dating and was insistent on buying a house in the city to get married. However, a lifetime of savings for a rural couple wouldn’t even buy a city toilet, let alone a house. Seeing their prospective daughter-in-law about to slip away, the elderly couple fretted like ants on a hot pan. So, when I approached them under Charlotte’s name, they readily agreed to meet. The adoptive mother’s eyes sparkled as she confirmed with me, “Charlotte, that child, is actually the Ashworth heiress?!” Her adoptive father, smiling broadly, added, “That child lied to us, saying she was from an ordinary family! If she’s really an Ashworth, wouldn’t Charlotte be living a divine life, like on TV!” I nodded at them. “The Ashworth family has more money than they could spend in generations, and Charlotte, naturally, misses you very much.” The couple clapped their hands. “Since Charlotte is so rich now, and her brother is getting married soon, why don’t we go ask her for some money! After all, we spent a lot raising her! No matter what, she’s still our son’s sister!” I looked at the ecstatic couple before me, took a sip of tea, and concealed the smile on my lips. Human greed. While their words sounded good now, if they were to truly witness what a life of luxury entailed, they would undoubtedly cling to Charlotte forever, never wanting to leave. After dealing with Charlotte’s adoptive parents, I took a bouquet of flowers to Eleanor’s grave. Unexpectedly, I ran into Sterling there. He and I, rather than friends, were more like rivals. I had helped the Ashworth family snatch several projects from him, yet he showed no sign of anger. I didn’t believe in his magnanimity; after all, many families who offended him ended up bankrupt. He smiled when he saw me, then gestured. “I knew you’d come. Eleanor’s death was suspicious, so when her body was sent to the hospital, I secretly had an autopsy done, and I found some very interesting things. I brought them specially for you.” I remembered that the hospital Eleanor was sent to was owned by the Sterling family. Eleanor was cremated so quickly I had no time to examine her body. The words “missing heart” on the autopsy report were particularly jarring. I recalled that William, who suffered from congenital heart disease, hadn’t taken medication for a long time after Eleanor’s death. His originally pale complexion grew rosier by the day, looking nothing like someone with a chronic illness. Since childhood, Eleanor had undergone a full physical examination almost every month. And now, everything seemed to have an answer. My sister had been raised as an organ ‘donor’ for William. My breath suddenly hitched, and I almost collapsed. Sterling, seeing my distress, supported me. I bit my tongue, the metallic taste of blood bringing me back to my senses. I thanked him hoarsely. “Why are you helping me?” Honestly, Sterling and I weren’t particularly close. I didn’t believe anyone would do something at a loss. Sterling paused slightly, then spoke cautiously. “I just feel you resemble someone I know.” He touched my head, then placed his hand behind his back. “Perhaps I was mistaken.”

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