After I turned thirty, my mom nagged me daily about going on blind dates. After twenty-nine failed attempts, she introduced me to a man named Marcus Hayes. To my surprise, this guy seemed pretty decent. He personally prepared candlelit dinners for me and designed a birthday bracelet just for me. Until I stumbled upon a post on Instagram: “Bros, I’ve hooked a rich girl. Both parents are state government officials, family owns three mansions. She’s average-looking but super easy to fool. We’ve met three times now, should be able to get her in bed next time.” When I saw the photos attached, my blood ran cold. The pictures showed the dinner he’d made for me and the bracelet I was wearing. Someone asked how he planned to get me into bed. He replied smugly in the comments: “Easy! Just slip her some aphrodisiacs! That’s how I got the last girl.” Right then, my phone buzzed with a message from Marcus: “Evelyn, free tomorrow night? Let me take you to dinner?” I read the post several times, unable to believe that Marcus — who seemed so proper in person — could be this disgusting online. But the photos were right there. That was my dress, my hand. How could I not recognize myself? The evidence was irrefutable. Cold sweat broke out all over my body. I took a deep breath and texted back: “Sure, see you tomorrow night.” The next day at the restaurant, I found Marcus already there with all the dishes ordered. Seeing me enter, he quickly stood up with a smile and pulled out my chair: “Evelyn, you look beautiful today.” The perfect gentleman. I’d barely touched my food when he said: “Evelyn, we’ve met several times now. We should make things official. My mom says she wants to arrange our engagement next week.” Including today, we’d only met four times. We hadn’t even confirmed our relationship, and he wanted to get engaged? I swallowed the curse on my tongue. “Marcus, I don’t think we’re compatible.” Marcus’s smile froze. “What are you saying, Evelyn?” “I’m saying I don’t think we’re right for each other. You can’t force a relationship. Let’s not contact each other anymore.” Marcus’s face immediately darkened. “Evelyn, what’s your problem? Are you playing games with me?” “Why go on blind dates if you don’t want a relationship?” I listened silently without responding. Marcus sneered and pulled a piece of paper from his pocket, slapping it on the table. “Fine, you want to break up? Let’s settle the bill first.” I looked down to see an itemized dating expense list! A long, dense column of numbers with a clear total at the bottom: $12,047. I was shocked and looked up at him. His expression was completely matter-of-fact. “Not a penny less.” “But I also treated you. It’s not like you paid for everything.” I’d spent about as much on our dates as he had. “That was your choice. I didn’t force you.” I laughed in disbelief. “You’re charging me for gas money to drive here?” The list showed $120 for gas, but his drive was only twenty minutes. “Would I make the trip if not to see you? Who else should pay for it?” I pointed at the $280 haircut entry. “What does your haircut have to do with me?” “Wouldn’t have gotten a haircut if not to see you,” Marcus said righteously. I nearly choked with anger. “Then show me the receipts, the order screenshots. Let’s go through this line by line. Empty claims won’t do.” Marcus slammed his hand on the table. “What receipts? You ate and drank on my dime — don’t you have any sense of how much you spent?” “Never satisfied with freeloading, are you?” This aggressive display finally matched the sleazy man I’d seen online. Instead, I calmed down. “How about this — post this list on your Facebook, get two hundred likes, and I’ll transfer the money immediately. Not a penny less.” Marcus’s face stiffened. His eyes darted around, then he immediately switched to a nice-guy face. “I was just joking around, Evelyn. I like you and don’t want to break up. I was just teasing. Don’t take it to heart.” He pushed the orange juice on the table toward me. “Here, have some juice and cool down.” I stared at the glass of juice for a moment, then reached out and picked it up.

Seeing me pick up the orange juice, Marcus’s eyes lit up. Probably thinking I was about to fall for his trap, he started sweet-talking again. “Evelyn, I was too impatient just now. You’re right — relationships can’t be forced.” “If we’re not compatible, that’s fine. We can part on good terms and stay friends.” My hand trembled, and the entire glass of orange juice spilled onto the table. Marcus’s face immediately turned green, staring speechlessly at the puddle of juice. I set down the empty glass and picked up where he left off. “You’re right, let’s part on good terms.” Right in front of him, I pulled out my phone and called the matchmaker, Mrs. Wilson. “Evelyn, are you setting a date? I knew Marcus was reliable! Your mom picked the right person!” “Mrs. Wilson, this match won’t work. Marcus and I aren’t compatible.” Mrs. Wilson immediately turned hostile. “Not compatible? Evelyn, you’re thirty years old — what are you being picky about?! At this rate, you’ll never get married. No one will want you –” I hung up before she could finish. Marcus watched this entire smooth operation, completely dumbfounded. He wanted to lose his temper but couldn’t — after all, he’d just said we should part on good terms. He glared at me hatefully, stood up, and slammed the door on his way out. He clearly wouldn’t let this go. Sure enough, two days later at work, a colleague rushed over with news: “Evelyn, you need to get downstairs! Someone’s causing a scene at the company entrance, calling you out by name!” I went downstairs to find Marcus, his mother, and Mrs. Wilson blocking the company’s main entrance, surrounded by a crowd. Marcus’s mother sat on the ground, slapping her thighs and wailing: “Everyone come judge this for yourselves!” “Evelyn dated my son for half a month, scammed him for meals, drinks, and jewelry — conned my son out of over ten thousand dollars, then just walked away!” “We’re poor! His father died young, and I raised him alone as a widow. How are we supposed to survive?” My colleagues whispered among themselves: “Wow, I never would’ve guessed. Evelyn seems so honest and proper, but she’s actually a gold digger?” “Over ten thousand? That’s way too much. She ate and ran?” “So shameless. Don’t let her ruin our company’s reputation!” Mrs. Wilson yanked me out of the crowd, playing the mediator: “Evelyn, let me be fair here. Even if you don’t want to date him anymore, Marcus spent so much money on you — you should pay him back, right?” “Marcus’s family isn’t well-off. He spent so much on you, and it’s all documented! Clear as day!” She seriously pulled out that same itemized list and shoved it into my arms. “Just take pity on Mrs. Hayes. Pay her back. She raised Marcus all by herself — how hard that must have been. Can you bear to watch her kneel here?” Marcus walked over with a lovelorn expression: “Evelyn, don’t blame my mom. She’s just heartbroken for me…” “I genuinely like you. Can you give me another chance? I promise, all the money I earn will be yours to spend.” The onlookers gave me even more judgmental looks, shaking their heads. The commotion grew too loud. Our director, Mr. Davis, walked over with a dark expression: “Evelyn, I don’t want to get involved in personal matters, but bringing this to the company is too disruptive. They’ve even brought an itemized list. Just pay them back quickly, or else the company can’t keep you.” After the director spoke, I didn’t panic at all. Instead, I smiled.

“I won’t give you a single cent.” I said calmly, “Not only won’t I pay you, I’m going to collect what you owe me.” Hearing this, Marcus’s mother collapsed back to the ground, wailing: “Help! This girl is trying to kill us!” “My son works so hard for his money, up early and late every day, barely saved any money and she scammed it all!” “And now she’s turning the tables on us! She’s heartless!” My colleagues also criticized me: “Evelyn, you’re going too far. How can you demand money from them? Playing the victim!” “Exactly! Debts must be repaid — it’s only right. Have some shame!” The director had lost his patience. “Evelyn, pay up now. Stop embarrassing yourself!” I ignored them and held up the itemized list for everyone to see. “Everyone, look carefully. This is what he wants me to repay.” “Marcus and I ate four meals together. He paid for two, I paid for two. I have payment receipts.” “Why is he charging me for all four meals?” The murmuring stopped as everyone crowded over to look. I pointed at the list and continued: “He drove to the restaurant — twenty minutes according to GPS. But he charges $120 for gas each time, four times totaling $480.” Marcus’s mother stopped crying and jumped up, shouting: “So what if he made a mistake! Everyone makes mistakes with their accounting!” “You’re nitpicking these tiny errors just to avoid paying!” “My son spent so much money on you, and you have the nerve to find fault? You have no conscience!” But my colleagues’ expressions had already changed: “Four hundred dollars off is a small error? This is clearly inflated!” “The gas doesn’t add up either. A twenty-minute drive doesn’t cost $120. This is fraud.” “I don’t think this is as simple as it seems.” Seeing things turn against them, Marcus’s mother lunged to grab the list, but several colleagues who wanted to see more drama held her back. I simply read aloud: “Pre-date chewing gum, $20. Haircut, $280. Car wash, $180. Phone bill, $80…” “Marcus, you took me to a movie, I bought you bubble tea. I never took advantage of you.” “But why should I pay for the chewing gum you chewed before our date, your haircut, your car wash?” The crowd erupted: “What the hell? He’s charging her for his haircut? And car wash fees? Is this dating or a business transaction?” “The prices are wrong too! Twenty dollars for chewing gum? One-eighty for a car wash? Think we’re idiots?” “This is ridiculous! He’s clearly trying to scam her!” The onlookers turned against them. Marcus’s face alternated between red and white as he shouted desperately: “Don’t let her mislead you! These expenses are real!” “I gave her a gold bracelet worth $6,888! That’s real gold!” I laughed coldly and pulled the bracelet from my pocket, holding it up for everyone to see: “This bracelet isn’t gold at all!” A colleague who knew jewelry took it and looked it over, immediately laughing: “It’s fake. Same one’s online for $9.99 with free shipping.” Now the crowd was truly furious, pointing and cursing at them: “You gave her a fake gift and have the nerve to cause a scene at her company? What shameless liars!” “This guy’s just a scammer! Call the police!” I looked at Marcus, my tone ice-cold: “You gave me a $9.99 knockoff, but I gave you a genuine watch worth $7,000.” “Seven thousand dollars. Pay me back now.” The crowd also demanded he return the money, with some saying they’d call the police. Marcus’s face turned ashen as he pulled out his phone and made the transfer. Marcus’s mother tried to stop him, but Marcus pulled her aside and whispered something. She went quiet. After Marcus paid, he dragged his mother away. As she left, she shot me a venomous glare and hissed through clenched teeth: “This isn’t over! You’ll see!”

That weekend, I was resting at home when someone pounded frantically on the door. My mom opened it to find our neighbor Mrs. Peterson looking anxious: “Dr. Brooks, you need to go see! Several people are livestreaming at our community entrance, saying your family scammed them for money and emotions!” I thought, finally, it’s happening. I immediately opened a livestreaming app, searched nearby locations, and quickly found it. Marcus had gotten a major influencer account with hundreds of thousands of followers. The host was speaking passionately: “Folks, today I’m seeking justice for this heartbroken young man who was scammed out of his wedding money!” In the video, Marcus looked haggard as he complained: “Evelyn and I dated for six months. Our relationship was great — we were even discussing marriage.” “Her parents demanded $200,000 for the wedding money. We scraped together every penny, but after she took the money, she turned on me and blocked me…” Marcus’s mother knelt on the ground, kowtowing and crying heart-wrenchingly: “I’m a widow… that $200,000 came from selling our family home and borrowing from relatives!” “Now his fiancée has run off, the house is gone, the debts remain, and we don’t even have a place to live!” “We can’t go on!” Mrs. Wilson also spoke righteously: “I’ve been a matchmaker my whole life, and I’ve never seen such a black-hearted family!” “I personally watched Marcus hand $200,000 in cash to Evelyn’s mother. Her mother was grinning from ear to ear when she took the money!” The livestream flooded with hundreds of thousands of viewers, comments overwhelmingly cursing us: [Marriage fraud! Scammer!] [Expose her! Destroy her reputation!] [Someone like this is a teacher?] My parents and I had just reached the community entrance when the livestream camera shoved into our faces. Marcus’s mother pointed at me and shrieked: “That’s her! Everyone help me make her pay back the money!” She pointed at my parents and cursed viciously: “Hiding behind the facade of educators, doing such immoral things!” Instantly, the neighbors present and online viewers all cursed our family: “Scammer! Pay them back!” My parents were bewildered. My mom’s legs went weak with fear as she frantically waved her hands: “We never took any wedding money! My daughter never even dated him!” The viewers didn’t believe it. The comments grew even more vicious: [The scammer’s still trying to lie!] [Playing innocent! The evidence is right here!] Mrs. Wilson walked over smugly and said to my mom: “Old friend, so many people are watching. Just pay them back. Otherwise, your Evelyn will never find anyone to marry her!” I quickly supported my mother, reassuring them, “Mom, Dad, don’t worry. Let me handle this.” The host approached me: “This is the person in question, Evelyn.” “They say you took $200,000 and then blocked them. What do you have to say? When will you pay them back?” I looked into the camera, calm and composed: “Marcus and his family are spreading lies. They have no evidence. I refuse to acknowledge this.” Marcus was prepared: “We gave cash! Mrs. Wilson is our witness!” I laughed coldly. “If you have evidence, if you were scammed out of $200,000, why didn’t you report it to the police?” I pulled out my phone, found that post, held it up to the livestream camera, and said word by word: “They have no evidence, but I do!”

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In the third month after I married Sebastian, I slit my wrists. When my soul floated in the air, I thought I would see him weeping bitterly, holding my corpse and kneeling before my grave day and night in repentance. But none of that happened. Sebastian looked at my body and said, “Disgusting.” He had no regrets, no sadness. Instead, my death gave his non-blood-related adopted sister Melissa a position—she leapt to become Mrs. Whitmore. When I opened my eyes again, I was reborn, back to the day of my suicide. Why should I kill myself? The one who deserved to die was never me. I dropped the knife and walked out of the room. Before Sebastian moved Melissa into our marital bedroom, I signed my name on the divorce papers. When I felt the pain, I realized I had been reborn. The memories before my death kept flashing through my mind. I had tried to kill myself entirely because half an hour earlier, I had received a message from Melissa. A photo—her on top, Sebastian below, in an extremely intimate position, and in the car no less, that narrow and quiet space. I was furious. I frantically called Sebastian. He didn’t answer. When I called several more times in succession, he hung up directly. Everyone in the capital knew that I loved Sebastian like my life depended on it, that I couldn’t live without him. I even earned the nickname “yandere beauty Charlotte.” At that moment, the thought of Sebastian doing those things with another woman drove me truly insane. I quickly created a SnapChat group, pulled in all our mutual friends, and declared I was going to kill myself. Everyone in the group urged me to calm down. Only Sebastian sent a cold message: “Whatever.” I desperately wanted to extract even a tiny bit of love from Sebastian, so I actually live-streamed slitting my wrists. In the video, all our friends were shocked. Sebastian finally reacted. He cursed me under his breath, calling me a psycho, and rushed back. He finally came back from that other woman’s side. How wonderful. He could only be mine and mine alone. But I had cut too deep. I really died. Floating in the air, I was desperate to see Sebastian awaken to his love for me, to see if he would hold my corpse in agony. But he did nothing and had me cremated. A month later, he even married Melissa, who seized my position as the rightful Mrs. Whitmore. This suicide made me understand: loving myself is better than loving a man. Sebastian, I’m done loving you. The text message from Melissa was still on my phone. I wasn’t polite in my reply. “Sebastian likes passive, delicate girls. He doesn’t like slutty ones like you.” She went silent. I walked out of the bathroom and threw everything I had prepared for suicide into the trash. Following Sebastian around for ten years, constantly begging him for that tiny bit of love, only to trap myself for the rest of my life—it really wasn’t worth it. I sent Sebastian a text message. “The divorce papers only need your signature.”

Sebastian came back quickly. His first words were: “Not dead yet? Changed tactics—now you want a divorce?” Two sarcastic jabs, but he was stating facts. In my previous life, I was able to marry Sebastian entirely because of a business partnership between our families. At the time, the Whitmore family was on the verge of bankruptcy, their business set back decades. After I married in, it was essentially using the Sterling family’s blood to fill the Whitmore family’s bottomless pit. So whenever I brought up divorce, Sebastian would compromise. Back then, I thought his compromise was love, the only love he had for me. Now I understand—it wasn’t love, it was profit. Sebastian was compromising for the Whitmore family’s development. I adjusted my emotions and saw Melissa standing behind Sebastian. Melissa was two years younger than me. The Whitmore family had adopted her from an orphanage years ago. She had grown up with Sebastian since childhood—childhood sweethearts. And I was just a willful, selfish, spoiled girl in his eyes. I handed him the divorce papers. “Sign them.” Sebastian laughed mockingly and casually tore up the divorce agreement, not caring what I thought at all. “Melissa is moving in. Give her your master bedroom. You don’t have a problem with that, do you?” A problem? How would I dare have a problem? In my previous life, it was the same. Melissa insisted on living in the master bedroom that Sebastian and I shared. I refused, so she had to sleep in the side room. Then she fell out the window. She claimed the bed in the side room was next to the floor-to-ceiling window, so she accidentally fell. It was quite an accident indeed. What normal person sleeps without closing the floor-to-ceiling window? Sebastian blamed me for that incident. He said to teach me a lesson and locked me in a dark room without food or water. By the time he remembered me, I was barely alive. My best friend defended me: “Get divorced, Charlotte. If you keep tormenting yourself like this, that scumbag Sebastian will be the death of you.” But back then, my brain was broken, and I actually argued back. “Why does he only treat me badly and not others?” “Why does he only want my life and not others’?” “He loves me. He loves me to death.” Hearing these words, my friends gradually distanced themselves from me and stopped contacting me. Thinking back on those words now, I was such a fool. Since Melissa loved stealing nests so much, I’d give her this bird’s nest. “Fine.” I calmly agreed. A flash of surprise crossed Melissa’s eyes. All the schemes she had prepared were now useless. She looked me up and down repeatedly, then tugged on Sebastian’s arm. “About that thing…” Melissa trailed off suggestively. Sebastian pushed up his gold-framed glasses—the movement refined and elegant. I used to love this gentleman-scoundrel act of his. Now I realize, even if a dog did this, I would have loved it. Pure sickness. Sebastian spoke: “Melissa’s health isn’t good, and she needs to prepare for pregnancy. Take care of her for the next two weeks. I remember you studied nursing, right?” Yes, I studied nursing. For him. Back then, Sebastian was constantly drinking at business dinners for the nearly bankrupt Whitmore family, which damaged his stomach. He lay in the hospital for over ten days. He couldn’t afford a nurse, so I taught myself for a few days and took care of him around the clock for two weeks. I didn’t even blink. When he raised his hand, I handed him water. When he turned over, I gave him a massage. I was more diligent than a servant. I thought he would remember my kindness, but he only remembered me as a free nanny. I readily agreed again, but I took back what should have been mine. “Sebastian, give me back the three Sterling family seals I gave you, and I’ll agree.” Those three seals were the great heroes that helped the Whitmore company rise from the dead. Originally, my parents didn’t agree to my marriage to Sebastian. But I insisted on choosing him. So my parents gave me three seals representing our entire family enterprise. As long as I held these three seals, many companies would be willing to cooperate with the Whitmore family in the future. Mom also told me that whenever I took back these three seals, they would come get me even if they were on the other side of the world. When I gave Sebastian these three seals, I told him they would help his career. In my previous life, I also brought this up with him. Instead, he pointed at my nose and cursed. “Charlotte, what the hell is your Sterling family? What are these three seals? You really think you’re something special? Without your Sterling family, the Whitmore family can still rise again.” That’s when I learned: you can’t warm up an ungrateful wolf. You can’t warm up a heart made of stone either. What he doesn’t want, if I gave it to a dog, at least the dog would wag its tail at me. Sebastian disdainfully pulled one out from his pocket and gave it to me. “The other two—I’ll give you one every two weeks.” I knew what he meant. He wanted me to take good care of Melissa during this half-month period. After giving them all, I would leave. By then, my parents would naturally handle the divorce procedures for me. I withdrew all my admiration for Sebastian. I desperately wanted to see—when he was no longer the Whitmore family’s young master, when he was begging with a mountain of debt on his back, would Melissa still love only him?

For the remaining days, Melissa moved in. Her pregnancy preparations in my previous life had made me so angry I was hospitalized. I even developed anxiety disorder and nearly went insane. Because the pregnancy Melissa was preparing for was Sebastian’s child. Melissa said she had her own beliefs. Since the Whitmore family adopted her, she had to repay them. Sebastian had already married me, and I hadn’t had children for three years. She couldn’t bear to see the Whitmore family line end, so she was willing to sacrifice herself to bear an heir for the Whitmore family. She proposed IVF with Sebastian. It sounded nice calling it IVF, but behind the scenes, they had clearly had sex many times. Melissa sent me those photos and videos one by one. I was so stimulated I vomited blood. I was disheveled, sallow-faced, and utterly wretched when I found Sebastian at his company. He was in an international conference at the time. I burst right in, ruining his project, crawling on the floor and hugging his legs, begging him to love me, begging him to have a child with me. I even said: “I guarantee the child I give birth to will be smarter and more blessed than Melissa’s.” My outburst damaged Sebastian’s image. He had someone lock me up. Unable to stand my tantrums, he sent me to a psychiatric hospital. Only after I was tortured into submission did he bring me back. Even now, thinking about it makes my heart ache. Why did I debase myself like that? As for Melissa, she didn’t know that the reason Sebastian and I hadn’t had children in three years was because my parents had investigated. The Whitmore family carried genetic disease genes. Any children born would either be disabled or have cerebral palsy. So, to get back the Sterling family’s three seals, I was more nervous about Melissa’s belly than a maternity nurse would be. At eight in the morning, I had the kitchen prepare soup and sent it to Melissa. Melissa took a sip and threw it on me. “What garbage is this? Be careful or I’ll tell Sebastian.” I endured it. At noon during her rest, I found professionals to apply body oil to her skin to help keep it refined. Melissa specifically demanded I do it myself. “Charlotte, are your precious hands okay with serving me?” I endured again. At ten at night, Sebastian came home and entered the bedroom with Melissa. Sebastian pretended to be troubled. “Charlotte, this is all for me. You love me so much, you’ll understand, right?” I stood by the door, listening to the sounds of lovemaking inside, when I received a call from my parents. “Charlotte, your mother and I received the seals.” “Are you planning to come home?” One more left. Once I took the last one, all the projects under Whitmore Enterprises would come to a complete halt. Because over these three years, all the projects were stamped with my Sterling family seal. All the partners only recognized the Sterling family. I stood at the door, peeking through the crack at the two people pressed together inside, and smiled. “Mom, Dad, remember to pick me up in a week.” During the two weeks of caring for Melissa, I barely slept or ate. I lost a significant amount of weight. Sebastian’s evaluation of me, however, kept getting better. He often stared at me in a daze, occasionally spitting out a few decent words from his dog mouth. “Charlotte, if you were always this obedient and didn’t make a fuss, how nice that would be.” I pressed my lips together and smiled without speaking. I won’t make a fuss anymore. I just don’t know if he’ll make a fuss when Whitmore goes bankrupt. Sebastian placed the last seal in my hand. Afraid he would regret it, I put the divorce papers on the table again and reminded him. “Remember to sign tonight when you come back.” Sebastian’s eyes filled with more mockery. “What, now that Melissa’s pregnant, you’re going to pull that live suicide stunt again?” “Charlotte, if you die, I’ll collect your corpse.” I lowered my head without speaking, knowing he meant what he said. So I won’t be as foolish as in my previous life. I originally wanted to pack some things to take with me, but realized there was nothing worth packing. Sebastian left through the front door, and I got in my car through the back. I turned off my phone, threw away the SIM card. From now on, mountains high and roads far. Sebastian, I’ll be waiting in New York to watch you fall.

I blocked all his messages, but forgot about the SnapChat group I’d created when I threatened suicide. On my first day away, the first person to tag me in the group was our mutual friend Mason. He was also the one who called me a simp most viciously, because his family had always cooperated with Sebastian, so whatever Sebastian did, Mason was enthusiastic about covering for him. Thinking back now, on the day I attempted suicide, he was also the one shouting the loudest in the group. “Charlotte, just die already. I’ve never seen a female ghost with such an obsessive love brain. Besides, what do you have that’s better than Melissa?” At this moment, Mason was shouting even louder than that day. “Charlotte, besides playing suicide, can you also play missing? If you crawl back now to apologize to Sebastian, I can still put in a good word for you and have Sebastian give you the free gift when he buys jewelry for Melissa.” Put in a good word? Can a dog even speak human language? I clicked on the video Mason posted. It was from the afternoon of the day I left. He was accompanying Melissa at the mall buying the most expensive jewelry. The two were lovey-dovey—if you didn’t know better, you’d think they were actually husband and wife. How was I so blind in my previous life? From the video, Sebastian had reserved the entire mall for her and was buying extremely luxurious and expensive items. Mason was right. The jewelry Sebastian used to give me were all free gifts from what he bought for Melissa—worthless, and I had to beg him for them. But I was a bit puzzled. Does Sebastian have money to buy jewelry now? I contacted a friend in the capital and got the complete video. In the continuation of the video, the two spent a long time selecting items. During this, Sebastian first received a text message. [Dear Mr. Whitmore, your bank account has been debited xxxxxx. Remaining balance: zero dollars.] Seeing this message, he thought it was a scam and paid no attention. “Charge the card.” The clerk took the black card, but returned in less than a minute. “Mr. Whitmore, I’m very sorry, could you use a different card? This one won’t go through.” That simple sentence left Sebastian confused. He then tried many other cards, but none would go through. Sebastian suddenly remembered the text message and quickly called the company’s finance department. “Lisa, where’s the money in my account?” Finance: “Mr. Whitmore, because we breached our contracts, all the money in the company accounts has been paid out in compensation.” Breach of contract? All the money paid out in compensation? Melissa heard these words and let out a shriek. “Sebastian, it’s Charlotte. It must be her.” Sebastian took a sharp breath and immediately called me, but my phone was unreachable. He left me messages. “Charlotte, what game are you playing? Where’s the company’s money?” “Charlotte, answer me.” Unable to contact me, Sebastian felt helpless because his phone was going crazy receiving text messages. Half were from the company demanding the seals. Half were from partners demanding payment. And another half were astronomical breach-of-contract fees. I could clearly see Sebastian’s fingertips trembling, just like how my heart trembled when I saw him with Melissa. You see. A person can live without love, but absolutely cannot live without money. The video ended there. I clicked my tongue lightly. It seemed Sebastian’s good brothers still didn’t know about Sebastian and the company’s situation. I saved the messages he sent me, planning to let this group of people see later who was shamelessly begging whom. I collected myself. I was about to meet with partners—companies that had previously cooperated with Sebastian. They intended to withdraw their projects from the capital and come to New York to work with me. Then I received crazy tags in the SnapChat group again. It was actually Melissa. That haughty tone and the attitude of giving charity to a pitiful wretch made me nauseous. “Charlotte, Sebastian said as long as you come crawling back and appear before him, he’ll forgive you.” “A woman can’t be too difficult. Men don’t have much patience, especially men at the top of the pyramid like Sebastian.”

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After my four-year-old son died from illness, Ethan Ford, who had been on a business trip to Europe, finally came home. At the funeral, he tried to console me: “Don’t worry, I won’t blame you. If you want a child, I’ll bring one home tomorrow.” My whole body stiffened. I looked up at him in disbelief. “What are you talking about?” He said nonchalantly: “I have a child with another woman. He’s only six months younger than Tommy. If you don’t mind, we can bring him home and you can raise him as your own.” “Besides, the kid’s mom is too young—she’s like a child herself, always playing around. I’d feel better if you took care of him.” My nails dug deep into my palms, my voice trembling: “Who is this woman?” He smiled. “She’s a nurse from the maternity ward. When I took you to the hospital to give birth, she fell for me at first sight. We slept together in the room next to the operating room. I know I wronged you, but she was young and sexy. She came onto me first, and I couldn’t resist.” “Slap—” Before I knew what I was doing, a bright red handprint appeared on his face. Ethan covered his swollen cheek and ran his tongue over his teeth. “Is that really necessary? I only told you this because I thought you were too upset. If slapping me once makes you feel better, go ahead.” With that, he turned his head, offering me his other cheek. “Go on, hit me. Why’d you stop?” All my anger evaporated in that moment, leaving only helplessness to drown me. My voice was hoarse as I stared at him, tears streaming down my face. He sighed impatiently and said: “Men cheating is pretty normal, isn’t it? How many men spend their whole lives devoted to one woman?” “Besides, I didn’t even bring her home. You’ve lived comfortably as a rich man’s wife all these years. Isn’t that enough?” As soon as he finished speaking, he pulled out a cigarette and lit it, blowing smoke in my face. I suppressed my emotions and asked in a trembling voice: “Then why are you telling me now? Why tell me the truth right after my son just died! You’ve been lying to me for five years—why couldn’t you just keep lying forever!” Tears pooled in my eyes. I tilted my head back slightly, refusing to show weakness. Ethan raised an eyebrow and suddenly laughed mockingly. “Like I said, she’s too young to take care of a kid. Now that the child’s older, he needs education and parental guidance.” “Besides, your son just died. You can’t handle this blow. If I bring a child home to keep you company, it’ll help you move past your grief.” He crossed his arms over his chest and added carelessly: “Two birds with one stone. Don’t you think?” Before I could respond, his phone buzzed. He glanced at the screen, and his expression instantly softened. He patiently typed out a reply. Perhaps now that the truth was out, he didn’t bother hiding anymore. I glanced sideways and saw the chat name: “My Only Treasure.” I stared at that profile picture for a long time. The same picture existed in my own chat list. During my third trimester checkup, a nurse named Melody Smith said I reminded her of her sister. Her sister had died from complications during childbirth, and Melody had lost her last family member. Out of sympathy, I added her on SnapChat.

She said I could message her anytime if I felt unwell. But I was afraid of bothering her, so I never sent a single message. All the details connected in this moment. My seven-year marriage was a joke. In my ears, I could hear Melody’s sweet, flirtatious laughter: “You’re so mean! Don’t call me dumb. If I hadn’t been trying to cook for you, I wouldn’t have burned my hand. Instead of feeling sorry for me, you’re going to ‘punish’ me by not letting me use my hands tonight? If you keep this up, I’m going to get mad!” Ethan wanted to smile, but when he caught sight of me still standing nearby, his expression quickly turned cold. “I have some things to handle at the office. I’m leaving. Deal with your son’s funeral yourself and go home when you’re done.” The guests had long since noticed the tension between us and were now waiting to watch the drama unfold. Ignoring my own dignity, I shouted at his retreating back: “If you walk out that door, we’re getting divorced!” Ethan stopped in his tracks. Seeing everyone’s eyes on him, his face darkened. “Shut up!” “If you’re not embarrassed, I am!” “If you have something to say, say it at home. Don’t make a scene here!” I laughed like a madwoman, grabbing his collar and pointing at our son’s portrait. “Our son just died, and you can’t wait to run off to your mistress and your bastard child. You’re embarrassed? What right do you have to be embarrassed!” “For seven years, you said you were busy with work, that you needed to develop business overseas. I handled everything at home alone—I was both father and mother. I could only sleep four hours a night.” “When our son had his accident, I was doing housework. I looked away for one second and he ran outside and got hit by a car. Where were you then? Talk at home? When have you ever been home!” Tears I could no longer hold back poured down my face. But Ethan just frowned. “Are you done? I’m leaving.” He turned and walked away with long strides, never looking back. The guests swarmed around me, offering hollow comfort: “That’s enough. Men are all like this. Every family has problems. Mr. Ford has such a big business—it’s inevitable women throw themselves at him. Just be patient and it’ll pass.” “Exactly. My husband doesn’t even have money and he still chats with women. Now I just turn a blind eye. Life goes on.” They spoke words of comfort, but each one was a needle stabbing into my heart. I wasn’t made of wood—of course I’d felt Ethan’s change. In our seven-year marriage, I’d imagined countless times how our relationship might end. But I never imagined it would cost me my son’s life. I didn’t want to be laughed at anymore. I hastily ended the funeral and went home. As soon as I walked through the door, I collapsed on the floor, drained of all strength. With trembling hands, I opened Melody’s social media feed. Only now did I realize every post had a hidden meaning. During my last prenatal checkup, she’d posted a photo of a positive pregnancy test. Caption: “He says this is a surprise from heaven. The baby and I are the most important people in his life.” When I was in postpartum confinement, Ethan said he had to go on a business trip. And during that month, Melody updated her feed almost daily. “He says I’m more important. He doesn’t know that to me, he’s the most important person in the world.” “When true love comes, heaven gives you a sign. This time, I heard it.” “Thank you for leaving everything behind to be with me. I hope you’ll be with me for the rest of my life.” … I tortured myself by reading through them one by one. Many photos included Ethan’s silhouette in the background. Back then, I never paid attention—I just assumed Melody was dating some secret boyfriend. Looking at them now, I realized how ridiculous I’d been.

The day our son died in a car accident, Melody was at a five-star hotel hot spring. In the photo, she wore a sexy bikini that barely covered her body. In the corner of the photo was a man’s hand holding a wine glass. Caption: “Thanks to my CEO for personally serving me. I’ll definitely reward him well tonight!” The blood drained from my face. Like a madwoman, I bombarded Melody with messages. “Where are you? I need to see you.” She replied instantly: “What’s wrong, Evelyn? Why the sudden need to see me? My husband’s all over me right now, so I can’t get away.” She sent a candid photo. Ethan had his head buried in her chest, surrounded by countless red marks. My heart went ice cold. After a long moment, I typed out a message. “This coffee shop. I’ll wait for you until you show up.” I stared at the coffee in front of me, the ice long melted, for three hours. Melody finally appeared. Wearing a sexy slip dress that deliberately exposed the marks covering her neck and chest. As soon as she sat down, she greeted me with a coquettish laugh. “Sorry I’m late, Evelyn.” “Oh my, I was in such a rush leaving the house, I forgot to cover these up. But you’re married too, so you understand, right?” I forced myself to smile. “Looks like things are good between you and your husband? Still so sweet after marriage—that’s rare.” Her cheeks flushed to her ears, but her voice rose several notches. “My husband’s been obsessed with me for five years and still isn’t tired of me. Honestly, he’s getting annoying. I only managed to slip out by saying I needed to buy something. I don’t have much time, so just say what you need to say.” Rage slowly consumed my rationality. I picked up my coffee and threw it directly in her face. Melody screamed and jumped to her feet. “Evelyn Wright, are you insane! Why’d you throw that at me!” “You slept with my husband and destroyed my family, and you have the nerve to show your face in front of me? Throwing coffee is getting off easy!” I shouted with every ounce of strength I had. Everyone in the coffee shop turned to stare at Melody, pointing and whispering. Her expression of anger froze on her face. In an instant, it transformed into a pitiful look. “Evelyn, what are you saying? My husband is married?” “I didn’t know. I really didn’t know. If I’d known he was married, I never would have gotten together with him! I was deceived too!” “I even had his child… How could this happen? My whole life is ruined!” With that, she covered her face and ran out crying. Before I could react, the crowd’s judgment rained down on me. The same people who’d sympathized with me moments ago quickly changed their tune. “The poor girl didn’t even know your husband was running around. Why are you being so aggressive?” “Exactly. She even had his child. Her whole life is ruined. The girl’s a victim too.” “Can’t control your own man, so you come here to bully a young girl. No wonder your husband doesn’t like you!” I wanted to explain that wasn’t how it happened. But no one believed me. Security threw me out on the spot. Someone had filmed my confrontation with Melody and posted it online. The video went viral. The comments were filled with insults. I, the actual victim, became the target of everyone’s hatred. I wandered the streets like a lost soul, not knowing where to go or what to do. I thought today’s meeting would make Melody back off, would make Ethan return to his family.

But I was wrong. Terribly wrong. A woman willing to be a mistress would never be that simple. After walking for who knows how long, a black Maybach suddenly stopped in front of me. Ethan rushed out of the car and slapped me without a word. “You have the nerve to be out shopping? Do you know you almost killed Melody!” My face pale, I looked up at him in confusion. His chest heaved violently with anger. “Because you went to see Melody this afternoon, people called her a homewrecker and she went to a bar to drink. She ended up getting raped!” “She smashed a bottle and tried to kill herself by cutting her wrists. She just got out of surgery and isn’t out of danger yet!” “Evelyn Wright, when did you become so vicious? The affair was my doing. If you’re angry, take it out on me. Why hurt Melody? She’s innocent!” Tears blurred my vision. The man standing before me, calling me vicious, could no longer overlap with the young man who once knelt to propose, swearing he’d protect me forever. I bit through my lip, eyes red as I screamed: “She’s innocent? What about my child? Wasn’t he innocent?” “You cheated and left me to care for our child alone. My son was only five years old. Why should he pay the price for your affair!” My heartfelt words only earned me another, harder slap. I lost my balance and fell down the steps. My ankle swelled immediately, the bone likely broken. Ethan gave the bodyguards a cold order, not even sparing me a glance: “Take Mrs. Ford to the hospital and make her kneel. When Melody is out of danger, she can get up!” In the hospital corridor, two bodyguards forced me to my knees. Both sides of my face were swollen, but I couldn’t even feel the pain. Five hours passed before Melody finally opened her eyes. Ethan walked past me and comforted her with gentle concern. In seven years of marriage, I’d never seen him like this. My heart ached to numbness, as if being twisted by a dull knife. The two talked about something, and Melody covered her face, crying uncontrollably. Ethan took her phone, looked at it, and became so angry he smashed it on the spot. The screen shattered into pieces. He strode toward me, grabbed my collar, and dragged me in front of Melody. “Evelyn Wright, did you release that video? Did you hire those trolls?” “Won’t you be satisfied until Melody’s dead! She just woke up and even agreed to let you raise her child, but you still won’t leave her alone!” The phone with its spider-webbed screen was playing a video. In the footage, Melody lay unconscious from alcohol while several men stood over her, violently tearing at her clothes. At the critical moment, the camera was covered by someone’s clothing. But sickening sounds could be heard. Melody’s face went white. She broke down crying: “Don’t stop me. Just let me die!” “Everyone online is saying I deserved it for breaking up someone’s family. This is my punishment!” “Give the child to Evelyn to raise. Don’t let him know what kind of shameful person his mother is!” With that, Melody yanked out her IV needle and raised her hand to stab it into her neck. Ethan reacted quickly, reaching out to block it. The needle pierced straight through his hand. His cold gaze locked onto me like a demon from hell. “Evelyn Wright, are you satisfied now?” “Someone take Mrs. Ford out of here!” I struggled desperately: “Let me go! Where are you taking me? It wasn’t me—I didn’t do anything!”

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I was scavenging for leftovers in a dumpster when my wife, who’d been dead for three years, appeared. She stepped out of a Rolls-Royce and looked down at me. “Marcus Brown, you’ve passed my test after all.” I stared at her blankly, clutching a piece of moldy bread. Turns out, three years ago at a class reunion, her ex-boyfriend—the one she’d dated before me—had proposed a test: “I want to see if what you two have is true love. “Fake your death right now. Cut off all his cards. Take back the house too. “If he’s still single for you three years later, you pass. Do you dare?” She’d laughed then: “Why wouldn’t I dare? “Marcus loves me to death. Forget three years—even thirty years, he’d stay faithful to me.” Now, she turned back to smirk at her first love in the passenger seat: “What did I tell you?” The bread crumbled in my grip. Vivian White looked at me. “Alright, I’m here to take you and my son Oliver home. “Where’s Oliver?” “Dead.” I raised my eyes. “Three years ago, when none of the cards worked, there was no money for his surgery. He died.”

Vivian froze. She started looking around the dump. Nothing but endless stench and me, clutching moldy bread. She knew I loved our son to the bone. I’d take Oliver everywhere, no matter what I was doing. But now, Oliver wasn’t by my side. “You’re joking.” There was a flash of panic when Vivian spoke. “I’m serious. I’m here to take you both home.” “Home?” I looked up with red eyes. “Three years ago when you faked your death, they said you owed a huge debt and mortgaged our house. “Oliver and I became homeless. We’ve been wandering for so long. What home is there?” She hesitated for a long moment before speaking: “That… that was just to test you. Don’t worry, the house has always been in my hands. Come on~ Tell Oliver to stop playing hide and seek. Let him come out, I’ll apologize to him.” “Then go!” I threw the death certificate at her. “Go down there and apologize to Oliver!” When the certificate landed in her hands, her hand trembled. “Oliver…” She stared at the conclusion of “acute cardiac death,” her eyes instantly reddening: “I was only gone three years. How could Oliver be gone! “You’re lying to me, aren’t you?” Vivian grabbed my shoulders. “I know I was wrong. Don’t put on this act to punish me. Bring Oliver out!” I just looked at her. Contempt curled at my lips. The hand gripping me trembled. Vivian looked at me, tears falling. “Vivian, can’t you see such an obvious scam?” Ryan Hayes picked up the death certificate: “Look, isn’t this just like the fake one I made for you three years ago?” He pointed to the stamp: “It’s not even as good as the one I forged for you. “Here, hospitals don’t stamp it this way.” He sneered at me. “Mr. Brown, we’ve both been through this once before. You think we’ll believe you with something like this?” Only then did Vivian snap back to reality. Ryan continued pointing things out to her: “Look, the signature section—can’t you see how stiff it is? And this certificate, it’s obviously been artificially aged. “Don’t you remember the process from three years ago? Mr. Brown is quite experienced, actually. He even predicted you’d come back for him today and waited for you in the garbage dump dressed all shabby.” “You’re lying!” My eyes reddened. Vivian just frowned. After examining the death certificate several times, she looked at me with contempt. “I almost fell for it.” The death certificate hit my body as she said coldly: “Looks like Ryan was right. You’re much more calculating than you appear.” “You!” “Get Oliver back home by the end of today. He’s only six. He can’t learn bad habits from a father like you.” She turned to leave. I quickly stood up, trying to stop her. But Ryan positioned himself between us. “Mr. Brown…” He spoke in a voice only we could hear, venomously: “I know Oliver died a long time ago.”

I looked at him in disbelief. “Know why Vivian doesn’t know?” He chuckled softly. “Because I blocked all information about Oliver from reaching her.” My fists clenched tight. “Speaking of which, Oliver was really pitiful. “His mother had just died, and then he was diagnosed with congenital heart disease. “There was a matching heart for him, but his father couldn’t come up with a single penny. Working four jobs a day, going without sleep—still couldn’t gather enough for the surgery. “Made little Oliver miss his chance for a heart transplant.” My eyes instantly reddened. “But don’t worry.” Ryan adjusted his custom-tailored cuffs. “He didn’t die in vain. His bone marrow, kidneys, corneas…” My breathing hitched. He laughed softly: “Ah… such a pity you didn’t see it. When the child was forced to sign the donor consent form, he kept crying for daddy. “And you, his father, were still out there delivering food… Ahh!!” “You goddamn bastard!!” I gripped his throat tightly. “Give me back my son!!” “Enough!” A slap struck my face hard. I hadn’t eaten in three days. The blow sent me sprawling into the garbage heap. Vivian shielded Ryan protectively behind her. Ryan said pitifully: “I just asked where Oliver was hiding. Mr. Brown, you can stand living in a dump, but the child can’t bear this suffering! “Just because I wanted to take Oliver away, you tried to kill me?!” “You’re lying! You clearly…” “Enough!” Vivian clenched her teeth. “If you have any conscience as a father, bring Oliver back yourself. “Otherwise, we’re getting divorced!” She let Ryan into the passenger seat. Divorce? I laughed. Fine. But before that, I had one more thing to do. The next day, a whistleblower letter landed on Vivian’s boss’s desk. At the same time, a banner appeared at the company entrance: [Tech Rising Star Vivian White Caused Son’s Death for Ex-Boyfriend] in large letters attracted many onlookers. And I knelt at her company entrance, holding Oliver’s photo. Not saying a word. I had printed what she and Ryan did into pamphlets and distributed them on site. Some people actually teared up reading them: “Is that a child in the photo? Still so small. How could Ms. White just abandon this father and son and fake her death for three years!” “Faking death is one thing, but why go to such extremes! Not only cutting off all the money, but also pretending to mortgage the house. Was this really to test her husband, or did she want to drive him to death so her ex could take his place!” “The company must give an explanation! If this is true, does such a person deserve that position!” Soon, the company leadership personally came downstairs to bring me up. Vivian stood at her office door, her expression unreadable as she watched me. The door closed, and the leader personally poured me tea: “Mr. Brown, please forgive Vivian and Ryan.” My hand gripping the cup stiffened. “They did this and you want me to forgive them?” “Yes, I know Vivian went a bit too far, and Ryan was foolish. “But Vivian is the company’s pillar. So many projects only recognize her name. “You should consider the company’s position too, right?” I couldn’t speak. The leader smiled at me. “How about this—I’ll give Vivian and Ryan an official warning. And for you, I can provide compensation. “I’m sorry about the child, but you and Vivian can have another one. You’re husband and wife, after all. “With Vivian’s successful career, you’ll only benefit more.” I laughed bitterly in anger. “Fine, protect her. But why do you need to protect Ryan Hayes too!” The leader was silent for a moment: “Don’t you know? Ryan was recommended by her with a personal guarantee.”

For a moment, I nearly dropped my cup. This tech company—I’d submitted my resume three times. But each time it sank without a trace for unknown reasons. I’d begged Vivian to help me get an interview with the leadership. Not to get me directly into the company, just an interview. I knew that with her weight, she could give me this opportunity without even asking the leadership. But she said she needed to avoid conflicts of interest. Didn’t want to make things difficult for herself. So I needed to avoid conflicts of interest. But Ryan could be directly recommended for a position. My knuckles turned white gripping the cup as I stared at her: “What if I don’t accept?” The leader smiled too. “I still advise Mr. Brown not to fight the company.” Not long after leaving the company, many discussions about me appeared online. [Mentally Disturbed Husband Uses Son’s Death to Extort Wife] [Tech Rising Star Vivian White’s Family Misfortune] [Husband Suspects Wife of Affair with Male Colleague? Is Son’s Death the Husband’s Tool for Revenge Against Wife?] In an instant, the public who had pitied me turned their guns around. The comment sections were full of praise for Vivian and Ryan. [Had the fortune to work with Ms. White. She’s truly wonderful, her professional ability is impeccable, and she maintains appropriate boundaries with male colleagues] [I don’t know what there is to complain about being Ms. White’s husband.] [Did Marcus Brown himself have someone on the side?] [I met Mr. Hayes offline once. He’s really great, very respectful to women. Excellent people really do attract jealous haters] With such high engagement, I knew Vivian was behind the manipulation. I returned to the home I hadn’t been to in three years. Smiling bitterly as I stroked the photo on Oliver’s urn. “I’m sorry. Daddy failed to protect you.” A divorce agreement landed on the table. Just as I was about to take Oliver and leave, the door was kicked open. Vivian led Ryan, whose head was bandaged, striding in: “Where’s Oliver?” I wiped the tears from my eyes. “What are you doing?” “What am I doing?” Vivian sneered. “Ryan was injured, and you had Oliver do it, didn’t you!” “Vivian!” I clenched my fists. “What are you talking about!” Ryan gritted his teeth: “Mr. Brown, why hide it? When that child hit me with a hammer, I saw clearly it was him. “He even said he wanted revenge for you. “If Vivian hadn’t arrived in time, caught off guard like that, I might have really been killed by that child!” I gritted my teeth. Vivian looked at me coldly: “I knew Oliver would learn to lie with a father like you! “If I’d known it would be like this, I should have taken Oliver with me three years ago! “Where is he! I’m taking him to raise myself! Ryan and I will teach this child together! Better than you ruining him for life!” “Fine!” I brought out the urn, looking at them with burning eyes: “Then you’d better go down there and teach him properly!”

Looking at the portrait on the urn, Vivian stared at me in disbelief. My hands trembled slightly as I clenched my fists. A year ago, when Oliver died, I’d used all my savings to make this final little home for him. But the next second, this little home was shattered. I roared and lunged forward: “Oliver!” “Have you made enough of a scene!” Vivian grabbed my collar. “How many times are you going to play this trick?” She grabbed the ashes. “Bamboo charcoal powder mixed with bone models—you really think I can’t tell! I played this trick three years ago! “Do you enjoy cursing Oliver this much?” “Mmph!” The ashes were forcibly shoved into my mouth. I retched violently. “Eat it! Aren’t these your own props? Why are you disgusted!” Vivian’s eyes were red as she firmly blocked my mouth. Until my face flushed red and I pushed her away. Kneeling on the ground, I coughed continuously. My trembling hands gathered the ashes bit by bit from the floor. Tears mixed with the blood from my throat, soiling Oliver’s remains. I collapsed on the scattered ashes, crying breathlessly. Vivian looked down from above. “Think about it—when Oliver grows up and remembers you faked his death and his ashes just to compete for jealousy… “What will he think? “He’ll hate you to death.” I was too wretched to speak. She half-knelt down. “So, where’s Oliver? If you have any conscience as a father, temporarily let me educate him.” My eyes reddened. I smiled at her. “Alright, I’ll take you to find him.” Ryan froze. Vivian also paused slightly, reaching out to grip my hand. “I knew you’d come around.” The car drove to a cliff’s edge. Vivian saw the small figure on the cliff. Her face lit up. “Oliver!” Just as she got out of the car, Ryan’s trembling voice came from behind: “Vivian…” She turned back. My knife was already at Ryan’s throat. … Police forces quickly gathered at the cliff’s edge. I held the knife to Ryan’s throat, standing at the cliff’s edge with Oliver. Cold sweat dripped from Vivian’s temples. “Marcus, I won’t take Oliver anymore. I won’t fight you for him. “Let Ryan go. Do you want Oliver’s father to become a murderer? Can you bear to let Oliver watch you kill someone!” All the live stream cameras focused on me. The police negotiator was also persuading me along with Vivian. I felt Ryan trembling in my arm. I looked down. Glanced at Oliver wearing a hat. He also looked up and met my eyes. Ryan’s body trembled even more violently. I smiled: “No, Oliver will become my best successor.” Then, ignoring Vivian’s pale face, I gave the order directly: “Oliver! Push this man down with Daddy!” “Marcus Brown!!” “Ma’am!” The police cried out. Vivian actually snatched the gun from the police. Aimed it straight at me. “Bang!” The bullet exploded into a blood flower on my chest. I swayed. Released my grip on Ryan. Before falling off the cliff, I turned back and showed Vivian a smile. Then fell straight down. Vivian stood frozen in place. In front of the live cameras, Oliver removed the hat. It was a girl. “Congratulations, Ms. White. Now you’ve killed your husband with your own hands too.” The police frowned at Vivian: “What this child said—what’s going on?”

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Caleb, a man known for his unshakable self-control, played the role of a knight in shining armor. He settled a young woman into a suburban villa, paid off her debts, and opened a bakery for her, yet he never laid a finger on her. He just went over every day to eat a single meal. His friends couldn’t understand why he would do such a thing. He said, “I’m just greedy for a half-day of peace. When I go back, I am still Sloane’s perfect husband!” 01 That day, our daughter fell ill. As Caleb was heading downstairs, he asked casually, “Why hasn’t Autumn left for school yet?” Our daughter, eating her breakfast, looked up. “Daddy, I’m sick!” Caleb froze, looking up at me. “What’s wrong?” I said, “The flu. I’m taking her to the doctor in a bit.” “Is it serious?” “It’s fine. Her fever has already broken.” Caleb nodded, letting out a sigh of relief. “Drive safe, then. Call me if you need anything.” He kissed Autumn, said goodbye, and walked out the door. The nanny looked at me, hesitating to speak. I smiled and said nothing, just reminding Autumn to eat faster. I knew what she wanted to say. It was nothing more than: The child is sick, so why does her father seem completely unconcerned? He didn’t even know until she was almost fully recovered? To any normal American family, this would seem completely dysfunctional. But I was already used to it. Used to it to the point of apathy. After packing our things, I drove Autumn to the clinic. We ran into a car accident halfway there. The engine of the car ahead suddenly blew out, causing a three-car pileup behind it. I was the fourth car. I braked in time and narrowly escaped the crash. I originally wanted to just turn the car around and leave. But I unexpectedly spotted Caleb’s SUV—the one he claimed he lent to a friend. I had asked him before which friend it was. He said, “You don’t know him.” That answer was very clever. A friend I didn’t know meant they weren’t that close. If they weren’t that close, why would he be generous enough to lend out his car long-term? But I didn’t press the issue. I just played the part of the gullible, naive wife. Now, it seemed he had indeed lied. I clearly recognized the person getting out of that car. Even though we had only met once, I remembered her name perfectly—Piper! Piper anxiously checked the damage to the car, then pulled out her phone to make a call. Inexplicably, I felt that call was to Caleb. “Autumn, watch some cartoons on your iPad for a bit. We’ll go to the clinic in a minute, okay?” My daughter nodded obediently. “Okay, Mommy!” I pulled over and waited. Less than half an hour later, a black Range Rover sped over. A man holding a jacket hurried out of the vehicle. Piper looked at him as if he were her savior, stumbling into his arms. The man caught her, draped his jacket over her shoulders, and ushered her into his own car. I had no interest in watching the rest. “Autumn, buckle up. We’re going to the doctor now!” 02 I had only seen Piper once. But even before meeting her, I had heard her name. Her name was linked with Caleb’s, dragging out a rather colorful piece of gossip in our elite Manhattan social circle. To be honest, it had been years since anyone dared to throw a woman at Caleb. First, Caleb had a flawless reputation for keeping his hands clean. Second, he and his wife were known to be deeply in love. Once, some smart-ass tried to test his limits. Caleb not only severed all business ties with him but also beat him to a pulp. “If my wife misunderstands, I’ll beat you to death!” Because of that, things were quiet for many years. But recently, someone tried their luck again. “They probably figured you guys have been married for so long, and your kid is getting older. They thought Mr. Carter was getting lonely and needed a distraction. They bet on the wrong horse.” The person telling me this was Mrs. Vance. She said that night was incredibly dramatic. A young bottle girl from the club was wrapped in a blanket and delivered to his hotel room, like some ancient emperor being presented with a concubine. They thought any normal man wouldn’t be able to resist that kind of temptation. But Caleb walked out of the room in less than five minutes. His face was dark, radiating an icy, oppressive aura. “He called his own assistant first, had him buy the girl some clothes, and sent her home. Then he started settling the score.” Rumor had it, he barged into that manager’s room and beat him up. Then he called the cops, reporting prostitution, and had the guy arrested right there. Following that, he terminated all contracts with that company. Mrs. Vance spoke with a mix of envy and a sigh: “Caleb is truly devoted to you!” I smiled and exchanged pleasantries with her. But my heart sank a little. Devoted? Not necessarily! Caleb’s outward attitude toward this kind of thing seemed the same as before. But he hid things from me. That point alone was abnormal. And then there was Caleb’s attitude toward that girl. If it were the past, he wouldn’t have stayed for five minutes, nor would he have had his personal assistant handle the “aftermath.” So, I did a little digging into that girl. I discovered she had gone from a bottle girl at a club to suddenly becoming Caleb’s new secretary. 03 When Caleb got home, I was still working in my home office. Having spent the whole day with Autumn, I was behind on a lot of things. “Still busy?” “Yeah!” “I’m heading to bed then!” “Wait for me in the living room after you shower!” I looked back at him. “We need to talk.” Caleb instinctively frowned. The atmosphere instantly stagnated. He didn’t say anything, just gave me a cold glance, closed the office door, and left. I didn’t know if he would actually wait for me. He hated it when I used that tone with him. Just like he complained to his friends. Whenever I started a conversation like that, it was never a good thing. Today was obviously no exception. But I didn’t want to fight with him, nor did I want to make a scene. So, when I finished working and came out, seeing him sitting in the living room, I asked, “Want a drink? We can chat.” Caleb raised an eyebrow. “An interrogation?” I smiled. “Nothing that serious. Just a casual chat.” His tense body relaxed. He stood up and took a small piece of cake out of the fridge. “I bought this for Autumn, but it looks like she missed out.” He said, “You have a bad stomach. Eat something first, don’t drink on an empty stomach.” Actually, the vibe was pretty good at that moment. If we had just gone with the flow, we might have had a productive conversation. But that cake had to ruin it. Sure enough, I overestimated myself. “Where did you buy it?” I asked him. Caleb said, “A bakery I passed by on the way.” “Isn’t that Piper’s place?” When Piper stepped out of that car, I knew Caleb hadn’t kept his promise to me. After finding out Piper had become Caleb’s secretary, I went to his office once. It was bad timing; Caleb wasn’t there. I asked his assistant, “Where’s Piper?” He stuttered, looking incredibly nervous. Later, I found her in Caleb’s private lounge. She was curled up on the single bed, covered in the cashmere blanket I bought for Caleb, her face pale, looking sick. When she saw me, she panicked and scrambled up. I asked her, “Where’s Caleb?” She bit her lip and said shyly, “It’s my time of the month, and my stomach hurts. Mr. Carter went to buy me painkillers and a hot drink.” I nodded. “Let’s wait together, then!” Taking care of a woman on her period was something Caleb was very experienced at. Because since my very first period, he was the one making me ginger tea. He would even turn bright red going to the pharmacy to buy me pads. He knew exactly which painkillers worked best without upsetting the stomach. He also knew that women on their periods had bad appetites but loved sweets. So, he bought Piper the over-the-counter meds I usually took, along with a ginger tea and a slice of red velvet cake. I handed the items to Piper. “This medicine works okay. It’s not as fast as prescription painkillers, but the side effects are minimal. If you really can’t handle it, just take a sick day. The company offers that basic benefit, at least!” Piper nodded timidly. She glanced at Caleb, and seeing him silent, she left the room looking disheartened, taking the stuff with her. When the office door closed, Caleb called my name: “Sloane!” But I walked straight into the lounge, grabbed the cashmere blanket, and threw it into the trash can right in front of him. Caleb frowned. “You don’t need to do that. I just felt sorry for her. There’s nothing going on between us.” “Who is she?” “The new secretary.” “I’m asking you, who is she!” This time, Caleb went silent. After a long while, he told me the whole story about him and Piper. He said she was a pitiful girl who only agreed to that “delivery” setup because she needed to pay off her father’s gambling debts. She dropped out of school young and couldn’t find a decent job, so she sold liquor at a club and was constantly harassed. “I ran into her at the club that day. She was being forced to drink. She’s so young, she should have a better life. Sloane, I only helped her out of pity!” Was that the truth? The suspicious part was that Caleb almost never went to clubs. Yet, after Piper was delivered to his room, he just happened to “bump into” her at a club? Was it really a coincidence, or did Caleb specifically go looking for her? It was quite intriguing to think about. But I didn’t dig deeper. I just nodded. I told him, “Fire her. Find her a different job.” Caleb didn’t even hesitate. He agreed immediately. He said he wouldn’t contact Piper anymore. He said he wouldn’t betray me. I believed him. I never expected that he would not only house Piper in a suburban villa but also open a bakery for her. 04 My single sentence completely froze the room. Caleb’s demeanor slowly changed. From scrutinizing to cold. “You investigated me?” He said, “Sloane, that poor girl has suffered enough. You doing this is completely out of line!” I sighed. “Caleb, you’re panicking.” Panic clouds judgment. “Otherwise, you’d know that if I hadn’t found something, I wouldn’t have done anything extra.” I tapped my phone and pushed the dashcam footage from the car accident toward him. “It doesn’t take a genius to put two and two together. If she can drive your car, she definitely lives in your house. So where is she working now?” Caleb didn’t click on the video. He just kept his eyes lowered. After a long time, he let out a heavy breath. “Whether you believe it or not, I haven’t cheated, and I haven’t betrayed you. I just pity her. Her place was constantly harassed by debt collectors. She had nowhere to go. She deserves a better job, not relying on selling herself for money. Sloane, these things mean nothing to us, but they can change a young girl’s entire life.” I had no patience for this. So I interrupted him: “Do you love her?” Caleb looked at me, his eyes filling with disappointment. “Is romance and sex all you see between men and women? Sloane, she and I are completely innocent. You shouldn’t start rumors about a girl based on your own paranoid delusions.” Caleb’s words truly stunned me. I never thought he could utter something so… shamelessly self-righteous. I had always thought he was a smart man. The biggest advantage of a smart person is that you can communicate with them. We know what the other is trying to say, we understand each other perfectly, and things click. But since when had Caleb become someone I no longer recognized? His reaction completely missed my expectations. This would make the next steps very difficult. But the arrow was already nocked; I had to shoot. I couldn’t let myself and my child fall into an even more humiliating situation. So I spoke decisively: “Caleb, let’s get a divorce! Take your time to think about it. Once you’ve made up your mind, we can discuss the details.” 05 I had realized very early on that getting a divorce is a huge hassle. Unless both parties reach a consensus, it’s a protracted war of attrition. All along, I had never sensed any desire for divorce from Caleb. Until Piper appeared. He put so much thought and effort into a girl other than me for the first time. Knowing him, it was either he already caught feelings, or he was about to. So, I demanded he fire Piper. I thought he would refuse. But he agreed. Had I guessed wrong? Half a month ago, some friends came over, and they were talking in his study. One of them teased Caleb: “They say marriage is the graveyard of love. As the ultimate authority on this, how does it feel now?” Caleb chuckled. “I couldn’t agree more!” “Oh?” his friend exclaimed. “What? Got the seven-year itch?” Caleb sighed. “Not exactly! It’s just… if I had known married life was this boring, I would have played around for a few more years!” “Then why did you turn down that girl who stripped naked and sent herself to your room?” “That’s a different matter entirely!” His friend disagreed. “What do you mean ‘different matter’? As long as you hide it well, finding a little fun is no big deal!” This time, Caleb fell silent. After a long while, he said in a flat tone, “We’ll see.” Hearing those words, I turned away from the cracked door and left. Caleb was looking for some “fun.” Whether it was because of that naked girl or the sheer boredom of married life, he wanted to step out. And I couldn’t possibly wait until he actually cheated to get a divorce. So, before he crossed that line, I had to terminate this marriage. My demand for a divorce left Caleb silent for a long time. He just stared at me, like he was looking at an unreasonable child. It wasn’t just him; I also thought of the past. That period when I frequently brought up divorce. Back then, I was anxious, miserable, and completely at a loss. I relieved my emotions through screaming matches, and I exploded by threatening divorce. But I didn’t actually want a divorce. I just didn’t know what else to do. My relationship with Caleb had hit a dead end, and I was just repeatedly smashing my head against a brick wall. Until my head was bloody and the wall finally broke. Caleb sighed. “Sloane, there is really nothing between me and Piper. If it bothers you, I’ll try my best not to contact her. Just drop the divorce talk, I don’t want to hear it.” I sighed too. “Caleb, don’t give me an answer right away. Think about it carefully. Do you really not want a divorce? Because right now, for you, the pros of divorce heavily outweigh the cons!” 06 That night, Caleb and I parted on bad terms. For the next consecutive week, he slept in the guest room, leaving early and coming home late, not saying a single word to me. Autumn smoothed out a crease in her storybook. “Mommy, when is Daddy coming home?” “What’s wrong?” “I want to read this storybook with Daddy.” “Can’t Mommy read it with you?” The little girl looked at me. “But I want to read this one with Daddy!” My heart ached. It seemed I couldn’t just passively wait anymore. Piper’s villa wasn’t far from ours. It was a property given to Caleb as collateral for a debt years ago. I went to the security office. Using the excuse of losing a valuable item, I requested to view the surveillance footage accompanied by a guard. Over the past week, without missing a single day, Caleb drove in every afternoon and left an hour or two later. Today, it hadn’t even been an hour since he arrived. The front door had an electronic lock. I had long forgotten the passcode. I had to knock. The door opened quickly, and a bright, pretty little face peeked out. “Why are you so early today…” Seeing me, the smile froze on her face, and she stood rooted to the spot. Seeing her wearing an apron, I asked, “Cooking?” Piper tightly gripped the hem of her apron. “Mrs. Carter!” I nodded and stepped past her into the house. Piper followed me inside. She asked, “Mrs. Carter, can I help you with something?” “I’m sorry,” I said. “I need to revoke the usage rights to this house. Will an hour be enough for you to pack your things? Do you need me to call a moving company for you? Oh, right, and that bakery—you can either return the startup capital to me, or I’ll take the storefront back!” Piper’s eyes widened. Her initial timidity transformed into anger. “What gives you the right?” I smiled. “Because these are marital assets.” Piper’s face darkened. She stepped back and shook her head. “Mrs. Carter, this is between Caleb and me. You have no right to interfere!” “Alright, then let’s wait for him!” I found a spot and sat down, while Piper remained standing. After I don’t know how long, she broke the silence. “Mrs. Carter, do you know how much Caleb hates going back to that house?” “Oh? How much?” She curled her lips into a mocking smile. She said, “He’d rather work overtime at the office or drink at a club. Do you know that every day when he gets home, he sits in his car and smokes for half an hour before going inside?” “Mrs. Carter, things between Caleb and me aren’t as filthy as you think. He just wants to steal a half-day of peace here. The pressure on him is too much, and this place lets him relax. Are you going to strip him of his very last bit of personal space?” “Mrs. Carter, you make your husband dread going home. What a failure of a wife you must be!” “Did you hear that?” I suddenly spoke up. “What?” Piper looked confused. I held up my phone and spoke to the person on the other end of the line: “Caleb, did you hear what your little girl just said?” There was silence on the other end. I continued, “I can’t imagine how devastated I would be hearing that if I were still deeply in love with you. But thankfully, I don’t love you anymore. Caleb, I don’t love you anymore. Let’s finalize this divorce as soon as possible! I’ll give you two days to think. If I don’t get the answer I want, I’m filing a lawsuit!” 07 That day, Caleb ultimately didn’t stay for dinner at Piper’s. When he got back, not only Autumn but even the nanny was shocked and quickly cooked two extra dishes. At the dinner table, Autumn was very excited, chattering endlessly about her day at preschool. For once, Caleb didn’t tell her “No talking at the dinner table.” After dinner, we played games with Autumn together. She dragged Caleb to read that storybook she had been saving, and finally drifted off to sleep, completely satisfied. Coming out of Autumn’s room, we instinctively went to the living room. This time, Caleb spoke first. “Sloane, there are some things I didn’t know how to tell you, so letting it out to a passing acquaintance like Piper was easier. Sloane, there is really nothing between Piper and me. You can look at our relationship as an equal exchange. I give her help, and she acts as my emotional trash can, that’s it. Sloane, I didn’t want to bring my negative emotions home to you. I always thought, as long as I could steal a half-day of peace there, I’d still be Sloane’s perfect husband when I got home.” Men and women are seemingly never on the same frequency. Once, I desperately wanted to hear Caleb’s true thoughts, but he was always so stingy with his words, even treating me like I was neurotic. But now, when he finally started bearing his soul, I only felt disgusted. “Caleb, can we skip the bullshit? What are your thoughts on the divorce?” My stubbornness made Caleb irritable. “Why does it have to be a divorce? Tell me what’s wrong, and I’ll fix it!” I couldn’t understand him either. “Why won’t you agree to a divorce? You heard Piper today. She definitely has those intentions. All it takes is piercing that thin veil, and the rest is inevitable. Doesn’t your current life feel incredibly boring? Isn’t divorce the best option?” My words were too blunt. A rare look of panic flashed across Caleb’s face. He clenched his fists, looked away, and growled, “I never wanted a divorce!” I leaned back on the couch. “Then you really need to think hard about it! Caleb, our ties are deep. The relationship between our families, the business overlaps, various joint investments, and most importantly, me and Autumn. If we can split amicably, there’s no need to tear each other apart. Otherwise, it will get very ugly. I’m suggesting this sincerely: if you want to step out, divorce me first.” “I told you, I never wanted a divorce, and I won’t cheat. Why don’t you believe me?” My patience was running thin. “Tell me, what will it take for you to agree to a divorce?” Caleb gritted his teeth. “I’m not getting a divorce!” “Why?” “Because I love you!” Caleb’s sudden outburst made me close my eyes in agony. I clenched my jaw. “Don’t love me. I’m begging you, stop loving me!” Caleb and I were childhood sweethearts. From high school to walking down the aisle, we were each other’s first loves and only loves. Along this journey, Caleb told me countless times that he loved me. The first time, it made my heart flutter. Subsequent times, it felt deeply romantic and tender. That feeling of holding the entire world in my hands had kept me intoxicated for a very long time. Until Caleb broke it all. Once, after getting drunk, he told me he still loved me, but he didn’t love Autumn. “If it weren’t for you, Autumn would mean absolutely nothing to me!” Was that supposed to be romantic? No, it made my blood run cold. If a person can’t even love their own child, then they must only truly love themselves. “Caleb, actually, your current life—aside from being a bit boring—must be pretty comfortable for you. After all, I don’t demand that you come home early, I don’t demand your company, I don’t track your whereabouts, and I don’t interfere with your actions. You easily get to be the father of a five-year-old. You have a home, a wife, and a child, yet you don’t have to sacrifice anything. So, after doing all those terrible things, you can still self-righteously say no to a divorce because you are the beneficiary of this arrangement, aren’t you?” “Here we go again! Here we go again!” Caleb flared up. “Can we stick to the issue at hand? Do you have to dig up the past? Sloane, this is getting really tiring!” Stick to the issue? Fine! “Your desire to cheat is an established fact. If not Piper, it would be someone else. Your relationship with Piper has already crossed the line of normal boundaries. I have reasonable suspicion that you have already cheated!” “I haven’t!” Caleb growled. I sneered. “I don’t believe you!” “Then what do I have to do to make you believe me?!” “I won’t believe anything you do!” Caleb glared at me furiously. “Sloane, you’re being completely unreasonable!” I nodded. “So what? Caleb, since I’ve brought up divorce, I will get it done at any cost. You can take my words as a threat!” Caleb was expressionless. I continued, “Or let me be clearer. Your company is in a critical pre-IPO phase. You can consider which causes less damage: a massive scandal, or an amicable divorce!” At that moment, Caleb fell silent. I had said everything that needed to be said. The rest was up to Caleb. He seemed to stay up all night. When I went down to get water in the middle of the night, I could still see the light shining from under the study door. The next day, we took Autumn to preschool together. After Autumn walked inside, Caleb said to me, “I agree.” “If this is what you want, I’ll give it to you!”

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In the third year after our daughter was abducted, Arthur gave up the search. He said it was fate, that we couldn’t be too selfish, and that moving on and living in the present was the most important thing. But later, his “first love” went missing too. Arthur’s hair turned white overnight. He spent the next fifty years searching for her. Reborn into a new life, I took the initiative to protect my daughter first and immediately demanded a divorce. I didn’t expect that Arthur had been reborn, too. On his first night back, he booked a flight to take his first love on a romantic getaway. It wasn’t until half a year later that he finally remembered his daughter. Clutching a cheap doll he bought from the airport gift shop, Arthur tried to pick her up from school. But my daughter pushed him away without hesitation, turned around, and threw herself into another man’s arms. “I’m sorry, I already have a new daddy!” 1 When the news of Chloe’s disappearance broke, Arthur and I had just had a massive fight. He gripped my shoulders, practically roaring. “Lily has been missing for three years! We’ve tried every possible way, but we just can’t find her. Life has to go on. Can’t you just look forward?” I raised my hand and slapped him hard across the face. My heart turned to ice. “But we are Lily’s parents! If even we stop looking for her, she’ll truly never come home!” Lily was our daughter. When she was five, her nanny took her out to play in our gated community’s park. The nanny turned her back for just a moment, and the child was gone. Terrified, the nanny didn’t call 911 immediately, missing the golden window to save Lily. Arthur and I tried everything, but there was no trace of her. It was as if she had evaporated from the face of the earth. This year marked the third year of her disappearance. Yet, Arthur suddenly told me he didn’t want to keep searching. He wanted me to give up, to look forward, to focus on our present life—saying we could always have another child. His cold, resolute attitude made me feel like I was looking at a stranger. Lily was a piece of my own flesh and blood. To have a piece of my heart violently carved out was an agonizing pain I could never just “give up” on. Because of this, we had the most explosive argument of our marriage. In the past, I loved him more, so I was always willing to yield. Arthur relied on my love to force my compromises. But when it came to Lily, I would absolutely never back down! Everything in the house that could be thrown was shattered. Screaming hysterically had drained every ounce of my energy. Yet he just stood there, watching me coldly as if I were a clown. “Evelyn, you are too selfish! Are you going to tear this family apart for a child we can’t find?” His initial guilt had gradually warped into impatience. Leaving those words behind, he turned, walked into his room, and locked the door. The chaotic living room plunged into a sudden, suffocating silence. I sat on the sofa, staring at photos of my daughter on my phone, tears streaming down my face. But the next second, a notification popped up in our old high school alumni group chat. It said Chloe Adams had gone missing. She was the smart, beautiful girl who transferred into our class in high school and captured the attention of countless boys—Arthur included. I had barely processed the message when the tightly locked bedroom door was suddenly thrown open. Arthur looked frantic, desperately dialing his phone over and over, but the calls wouldn’t go through. He muttered to himself, “Chloe, please don’t let anything happen to you…” Arthur was famous for his composure. Even when Lily went missing, he maintained his usual calm. I had never seen him panic like this, his hands physically shaking. To Arthur, Chloe was the untouchable “white moonlight” of his heart. In the past, I hadn’t thought much of it. Arthur was the boy I had loved since childhood. Our families ran in the same elite circles; we were practically childhood sweethearts. I loved him, always had. But he was naturally aloof, so his special treatment of Chloe in high school had once crushed me. But later, Chloe chose to study in Paris, voluntarily giving him up. Their budding romance died before it could bloom. Arthur was depressed for a long time before he gradually stepped out of the shadows, never mentioning Chloe’s name again. I stayed by his side, just like always, year after year. Fortunately, I finally waited long enough for him to confess his feelings to me. We started dating, got married, and had our beautiful Lily. I truly cherished our relationship. But looking at it now, I was nothing but a colossal joke. I used to think Arthur only lost his composure over Chloe because of that lingering high school crush. But I never imagined that when Chloe actually did go missing, he would be so overwhelmed with grief that his hair turned white overnight. Yet, when Lily was taken, he remained perfectly calm. Not a single slip of composure. It turned out— A child born to a woman you don’t truly love will never be loved, either. In the end, Arthur decided he had to help the Adams family search for the missing Chloe. I asked him, “What about our daughter?” What about the daughter who had been stolen by traffickers for three whole years? Arthur’s eyes darted away evasively. “We searched for Lily for three years. That’s long enough. But Chloe is different. She just went missing. Maybe if we try hard enough, we can find her?” That “hard enough” lasted a lifetime. I spent my entire life searching for Lily, and he spent his entire life searching for Chloe. We fought countless times over this. I begged him to give up—Chloe had her own family and friends looking for her, but Lily only had us. She needed us more. But Arthur furiously rebuked me. “Evelyn, you are too selfish! Chloe is a living, breathing human being. How can we just give up on her?” Disappointment, heartbreak, and pure hatred finally killed whatever love I had left for this man. By the time we reached our twilight years, we still hadn’t found Lily or Chloe. We both lay in our respective hospital beds. I stared at a faded photo of my daughter. He stared at a photo of Chloe, his eyes filled with endless sorrow. It was the ultimate irony. “If I could do it all over again, I truly wish Lily never had you for a father.” Because he simply didn’t deserve it! 2 But I never expected that I would actually be reborn! And I was reborn right back to the very day my daughter was taken. I tore out of the house, sprinting down the street, desperate to save my Lily before those monsters could get to her. Thank God. Before the trafficker could reach her. I lunged forward, snatching my child into my arms, screaming at the top of my lungs for the negligent nanny to call 911 immediately. A kidnapper sneaking into a luxury gated community was a massive scandal. Many residents, terrified that the trafficker might have accomplices targeting their own kids, crowded around, waiting for the police to arrive so the monster could face justice. I didn’t leave either. But in the midst of waiting, I saw Arthur rushing out of the house from a distance. At this exact time in the timeline, he should have just returned from a business trip, exhausted, sleeping off his jet lag in the bedroom until evening. It wasn’t until the nanny couldn’t find Lily that I was forced to wake him and tell him she was missing. That was when he had suddenly jolted awake. But why were things different now? Could it be that Arthur had been reborn too? But if he had been reborn, he should know that the most urgent thing right now was to save our poor Lily, not to run out in a panic. I didn’t have time to dwell on it. The police arrived, and I had to take Lily to the station to give a statement. By the time we finished the paperwork and returned home, the sky had already darkened. “Where’s Daddy?” Holding my hand, the moment Lily walked through the door, she peeked into the master bedroom. She loved Arthur so much. She loved hugging his legs and calling for him in her sweet, babyish voice. But the bedroom was empty. Arthur still hadn’t returned home. Lily looked a bit disappointed, but she was always a good girl. She forced a smile, assuming her dad just had too much work, like always. “I haven’t finished my book yet anyway. Daddy would be mad if he knew I wasn’t reading!” She giggled, ran to the living room, found a spot to sit, and seriously began reading her storybook. The regrets of my past life made me unwilling to leave Lily’s side for even a single step. I held her as we sat in the living room. She turned to smile at me, kissed my cheek, and said, “Don’t be sad, Mommy. Daddy will be home after work. We’ll wait for him together.” Perhaps it was because of the memories of my past life. This man, whom I had once loved so deeply and then hated for half a lifetime—now that I had a second chance, even if everything was back on track, I absolutely refused to wrong myself or my daughter ever again. Divorce was inevitable. But Arthur’s phone was completely unreachable. It was turned off every time I called. He had vanished into thin air. For a full day and night, I couldn’t get in touch with him. “Did the bad guys take Daddy away?” Even though Lily was young, she was more mature than kids her age and incredibly perceptive of my emotions. She tugged at my dress with her little hands, her eyes filled with sadness. I quickly bent down and scooped her into my arms, soothing her gently. “No, baby. Daddy is probably just caught up with something very important. But your birthday is the day after tomorrow. Daddy will definitely be back by then.” “Really?” Her big, round eyes were wide open, full of pure hope. 3 But the truth was, he went to find Chloe. That night, as I held Lily and read her a bedtime story until she fell asleep, I picked up my phone, opened Instagram, and immediately saw Chloe’s latest post. One picture. One sentence. The picture: A pair of hands wrapped intimately around her waist. The sentence: After all the twists and turns, I finally waited long enough for your confession. On the index finger of that right hand, there was a distinct scar. Hilariously enough, Arthur had the exact same one. In the comments section, everyone was congratulating Chloe and this unseen man, wishing them a lifetime of happiness. I glanced at the location tag on the post. It was Santorini, Greece. That island was famous for being a top destination for couples. When Arthur and I first started dating, he promised to take me there for a romantic vacation so we could show off our love to the world. But he was always “too busy with work” and said we had to wait. That wait stretched until we got married, and then until we had a child. I waited year after year, but it was all an empty promise. Yet now, Arthur had dropped everything to make up for the lost love of his youth. He took his “white moonlight” on a romantic getaway overseas, living his best life. I looked down at the photo, my heart completely devoid of any emotion. Perhaps the disappointment from my past life was just too heavy. I had hurt, I had cried, I had screamed. After the hysterical breakdowns, whenever I looked into his eyes, all that remained was disappointment and hatred. I tapped on the image, zoomed in, and saved it to my camera roll. Since I had already decided on a divorce, I absolutely had to fight for full custody of Lily. And all the evidence proving his infidelity— I needed to back it all up. That way, during the divorce, I could secure the maximum advantage for myself. 4 I had a lawyer draft the divorce papers. But since Arthur was currently overseas and had deliberately cut off all contact, I couldn’t hand the papers to him immediately. I could only wait, and in the meantime, I told my parents. But just as I expected, the moment I mentioned divorcing Arthur, my parents expressed intense opposition. I didn’t hide anything. I told them bluntly about Arthur’s infidelity. My mother looked at the photos, silent for a long time. Finally, she looked up at me, a complex expression in her eyes. “Evelyn, sometimes in life, you just have to turn a blind eye, and the days will pass. Besides, you two have a daughter now. For the sake of the child, can you please not be so selfish?” My own mother was telling me to tolerate my husband’s infidelity—for the sake of the child. Even though I had known early on that my parents were emotionally detached, always putting business and family interests first, I never expected it to go this far. Even now, my happiness couldn’t outweigh the corporate benefits our arranged marriage brought them. “No, Mom. If I choose to just ‘get by,’ that would be truly selfish and irresponsible. My life isn’t Lily’s life. I can take perfectly good care of her on my own.” At least, with or without Arthur, there wouldn’t be much difference from the past few years anyway. As for my Lily, I truly felt guilty that I couldn’t give her a complete family. But I wasn’t the one who destroyed it. So why should I be the one to swallow the bitter fruit Arthur planted? My father snapped. He slapped me across the face and swore that if I went through with the divorce, he would never let me step foot in their house again. Divorce meant I would become an Evelyn without a family. Unable to hold it back, I let a few tears fall. “Fine. Let’s just consider our bond as father and daughter officially severed.” Regardless, the divorce was happening. I took Lily and left. I didn’t go straight home. Halfway through the drive, unable to keep my emotions in check, I found a quiet spot to pull over. In front of my daughter, I broke down and cried like a failure. Lily was so good. She unbuckled herself from her car seat, climbed into the passenger seat, and didn’t say a word. She just gently patted my back and, when I looked up, pulled a few tissues to wipe my tears. “Mommy, don’t be sad. Lily is here. Lily will always be here.” Her voice was still soft and childish. I looked at her and asked, “If Mommy and Daddy have to separate, and you stay with Mommy, would you be okay with that?” Lily didn’t answer immediately. She tilted her head, as if thinking. After a long while, she asked me, “If we leave Daddy, will Mommy be happy? Will you not have to cry anymore?” I didn’t know how to answer her. Choking back a sob, I just hummed in agreement. Lily immediately smiled. She reached out her short little arms and hugged me, mimicking the way I always held her. “Lily wants Mommy to be happy. I don’t want Mommy to cry. Daddy is mean, and I don’t want him anymore either.” Completely breaking down, I hugged Lily tight and sobbed. The little girl, who was smiling at first, suddenly pouted. As if she had suffered a massive grievance herself, she buried her face in my chest and cried with me. But she cried so hard and got so worked up that my chest suddenly flared with an agonizing pain. Lily knew I had a heart condition. She instantly wiped her tears and started scrambling around the car, searching for my medication. But the pain in my chest was so severe that my vision began to blur, pulling me toward unconsciousness. Right before I completely blacked out, I vaguely saw a panicked Lily grab my phone and, mimicking what I always did, dial Arthur’s number. But the call never went through. 5 When I woke up, I was lying in a hospital bed. I was only dazed for two seconds. Then I scrambled up from the bed, looking around frantically. “Where’s Lily?!” Passing out so suddenly. I was terrified something had happened to Lily. I couldn’t bear the agony of losing her a second time. Perhaps hearing my voice, Lily, who had been sitting on the sofa reading a picture book, dropped it and trotted over to the bed. I pulled her into a tight hug. She sat by my side, her eyes still shimmering with tears. “Mommy, you’re finally awake.” Her voice still carried a hint of a sob, but she forced a bright smile, leaning against me obediently. She didn’t say anything else; she just looked at me quietly. I asked her, “Lily, who brought Mommy to the hospital?” Lily counted on her fingers, trying to remember. “It was a really handsome uncle.” Just as she finished speaking, someone pushed the hospital room door open. The person said, “You’re awake?” I looked toward the door. The moment I saw who it was, my eyes went wide in shock. “Nolan Vance?!” Nolan Vance was my high school classmate. But he and Arthur were complete opposites. Arthur was aloof, like a flower on a high peak—sacred and unapproachable. Nolan was pure sunshine. He was passionate about everything and everyone, always wearing a smile that warmed everyone around him. Not only that, we were childhood friends. Grandpa Vance had adored me since I was little. Back then, our families used to joke about an arranged marriage. But then I met Arthur, and I devoted all my attention to following him around. Later, Arthur and I officially started dating. Around the same time, Nolan received an acceptance letter from a prestigious university overseas and left the country. In my past life, Nolan never moved back. Or if he did, I was so consumed with my missing daughter that I never noticed. Seeing him so suddenly now felt like a lifetime had passed. “You have a heart condition. Doctors warned you since you were a kid to avoid extreme emotional swings. Good thing I happened to be driving by.” Nolan peeled an apple for me, meticulously cutting it into small cubes and placing them on a plate. He stuck toothpicks in them, handed one piece to me, and gave another to Lily. Lily thanked him, flashing an innocent smile. “Uncle Nolan, how did you know Mommy likes her apples cut into tiny pieces?” Nolan gently tapped her nose. He looked at me, his eyes full of the same warm smile as always, just with a hint of teasing now. “Since she was little, she’s been the most spoiled. If it wasn’t cut perfectly, she wouldn’t eat it.” Lily shook her head. “But at home, Daddy never cuts fruit for Mommy. Mommy always prepares it and brings it to Daddy.” Hearing this, Nolan’s smile vanished. He stared at me quietly without saying a word, holding my gaze for a long time. “What is it, Nolan? Why are you staring at me like that?” It was making me feel a bit uneasy. I pretended to look down and eat the fruit, but Nolan suddenly reached out and flicked my forehead. It actually hurt a little. “Nolan, that hurts! I’m a patient!” I couldn’t help but yelp. We were childhood friends, so we were familiar with each other’s boundaries. Aside from the initial awkwardness of meeting again, we easily slipped back into our old, comfortable dynamic. Around Nolan, I was always unreasonable and liked to tease him. And he would always let me. Just like now, even after I yelled at him, he completely ignored it and handed me another piece of apple. “Calm down, eat some more fruit.” I took the plate, shoved two pieces into my mouth, and muttered, “We haven’t seen each other in years, and the first thing you do is hit me without even explaining why?” Nolan smiled and shrugged. “Can’t help it. I’ve liked bullying you since we were kids.” With that, he turned and walked out, saying he was going to find my attending physician. I was looking down, eating the fruit, so I didn’t hear the words he muttered just before he walked out the door: “I just can’t stand seeing you wrong yourself. If I could smack that love-struck brain out of you, I would.” 6 There wasn’t anything seriously wrong with me physically. After I woke up, the attending physician gave me another checkup and cleared me to go home and rest. Since I had made up my mind to get a divorce, I had no intention of staying in the marital home, which was under Arthur’s name. I planned to move out with Lily. I owned several properties under my own name. I let Lily pick her favorite one, and we prepared to move in immediately. When Nolan found out I was getting a divorce and moving, he came over to help without a second thought. In less than a day, he moved all of Lily’s and my belongings over. The new house was just one street away from where Nolan currently lived. Lily was thrilled when she found out. “Do you really like Uncle Nolan?” That night, as I held Lily in bed, she snuggled into my arms, chattering endlessly about him. Over the past few days, Nolan acted like he didn’t have a job, coming over to mooch meals every single day. The moment Lily got out of school, she stuck to him like glue. The two of them hit it off instantly and played together brilliantly. They even made plans to go out on the weekend, completely leaving me out of it. Honestly, I felt a little like a third wheel. Lily sensed I was feeling a bit down and quickly hugged my neck, kissing my cheek. “Uncle Nolan is so nice. He’s willing to play with me and he’s so patient. Not like Daddy. Daddy always says he’s busy, he’s forever busy. He didn’t even come to my birthday yesterday. Uncle Nolan stayed with me, and he even gave me the present I wanted the most. If… if Uncle Nolan was my daddy, that would be great.” As Lily finished her sentence, a flicker of sadness crossed her eyes. A child’s world is simple. She might not be old enough to fully understand everything, but she was sharp enough to feel Arthur’s emotional distance. In contrast, Nolan gave her the fatherly love she had never experienced. My heart ached for my daughter. I pulled her into a tight embrace. Arthur really didn’t deserve to be a father. 7 In the afternoon, Lily came home from school. She didn’t look very happy. I asked her what was wrong, but she barely answered me. It wasn’t until dinner time that she finally spoke, her voice pitiful. “Kindergarten is having a parent-child event. A lot of the activities require the dads to participate. But… Daddy…” I sighed and said, “It’s okay, Mommy can do it too.” Lily shook her head, still looking miserable. She stared down at the rice in her bowl, lost in thought, when the doorbell suddenly rang. I didn’t need to guess to know who was here to mooch a meal. My previously depressed daughter shot her head up instantly. “Uncle Nolan is here!” With that, she scrambled out of her chair and ran to open the door for him. “Lily looks even cuter today.” Nolan carried Lily to the dining table, the two of them looking as natural as a real father and daughter. I felt a twinge of jealousy and glared at him playfully. “I almost died giving birth to this precious girl, and she’s closer to you than she is to me. It’s like you’re the one who gave birth to her.” Nolan’s smile grew even brighter. He leaned right into my words. “If that’s the case, then just pretend I did. I promise I’ll raise this precious girl right.” I quickly snatched my child back from his arms. “In your dreams! This is my precious girl!” Lily squeezed my hand, looking like a wise little peacemaker. “Stop fighting, you guys! One is Daddy, one is Mommy. Lily loves both of you!” Right. Just a few days ago, they had done a mock “adoption” ceremony. The two of them played along perfectly, calling each other “God-dad” and “Precious God-daughter.” Lily looked at Nolan, blinked her big eyes, and suddenly asked, “Mommy, since he’s already a daddy anyway, can Uncle Nolan be my daddy and go to the parent-child event with me?” I looked at Nolan, and he was looking at me, as if waiting for my approval. I hesitated for a moment, then shook my head. “That’s probably not a good idea…” “But all the other kids’ dads are going to be there. Only my dad… He hasn’t called me in so long. Why can’t Uncle Nolan be my dad? Mommy, I don’t want the other kids to make fun of me and say I’m a kid whose dad doesn’t love her.” The more my daughter spoke, the more heartbroken she sounded. She even started shedding tears, which shattered my heart. Nolan quickly chimed in. “Lily is my god-daughter now. That piece of trash Arthur is living it up overseas. I should definitely go! Do you really want Lily to be mocked by the other kids?” Naturally, I didn’t want that. So, on Monday, Nolan took on the role of “Dad” and went to the kindergarten event with me. The games were simple. Some tested the coordination between father and daughter, and others tested how well the parents knew each other. For example: “What is Mommy’s favorite color?” Nolan: “Purple.” “What is Mommy’s favorite fruit?” Nolan: “Apples.” “What does Mommy hate the most?” Nolan: “She hates being lied to.” Nolan answered every single question perfectly in record time. I couldn’t help but give him a thumbs-up. The host was one of the kindergarten teachers. Holding her script, she smiled at the kids, hyped up the atmosphere, and then asked the moms one last question. “So, who is Daddy’s favorite person?” Many parents wrote down their child’s name. I wrote Lily’s name too, because for questions like this, you’re supposed to write the kid’s name. But Nolan’s answer was—You. “Me?” I didn’t process it at first and instinctively pointed at myself. The host smiled and said, “It looks like Lily’s parents are very much in love! Out of all the dads here, he’s the only one with a different answer.” For some reason, my heart suddenly started beating a little faster. It didn’t return to normal even after the segment ended. Nolan held Lily’s hand and walked up to me. “What’s wrong? Is your heart bothering you again?” His voice was gentle as always, his eyes filled with genuine concern and inquiry. I shook my head. “Nolan, why didn’t you write Lily’s name?” Nolan’s smile paused for a moment before he replied, “Since I’m acting as Lily’s dad, naturally, my favorite person is Lily’s mom. So… saying I like you, I don’t see any problem with that answer.” There was a problem. A huge problem! My heart beat even faster.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “418560”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

My parents were famous. I only ever saw them on television. They were always on the front lines of war zones, claiming the environment was too dangerous, so they left me in the countryside with my grandmother. But later, they adopted their deceased colleague’s daughter. They brought her to live with them, pouring all the love and compensation they owed me onto her. She became their precious darling, never having to look at her parents through a cold screen. Years later, when they finally remembered I existed, I had already survived a severe fever that burned away any remaining affection I had for them. 01 I got sick. It wasn’t critical, but it lasted a long time. It started with a bet I made with my parents’ adopted daughter, Harper, to see who could reach the top of the mountain trail first. The winner could ask our parents to attend their parent-teacher conference. When I pushed myself to the limit, braving the cold morning wind and dew to reach the summit, I saw my parents and Harper—playing the perfect family of three—smiling and pitching a tent, getting ready to photograph the sunrise. Seeing me arrive, Harper smiled brightly and spoke up. She said, “I only said we’d race to see who gets here first. I didn’t say how we had to get here.” She said, “Chloe, haven’t you figured it out yet? On the same path, to reach the destination, you only have your own two feet. But I have Mom and Dad to carry me. You lost from the very beginning.” My parents, holding their cameras behind her, heard our conversation and realized what was going on. They looked a bit awkward and were about to invite me to watch the sunrise with them. But I had already turned around and walked away without a second glance. “Let her go!” I heard my mother’s angry voice from behind. “Why can’t she be sensible like Harper? If she knew how to be close to her parents like Harper does, instead of always wearing that cold, miserable face, why would we ignore her?” Hearing those words, I couldn’t help but find it ridiculous. My parents always said I didn’t know how to soften my stance, that I didn’t know how to get close to them or please them. But during the fifteen years they were absent from my life, I couldn’t even see them. How was I supposed to learn how to be close to them? How was I supposed to know how to do something no one had ever taught me? After returning home, I fell ill. It should have just been a slight chill from the morning dew, but I developed a high fever. My entire body felt heavy, completely drained of energy. Before completely passing out, I managed to dial 911 for an ambulance. Then, I plunged into darkness. During that time in a coma, I saw my childhood again. When I was very young, I always saw my parents on TV. And only on TV. They were nationally renowned journalists. College sweethearts who shared the same passions and ideals. After graduation, they chased their shared dream, rushing to the front lines of major news events. Later, they even volunteered to go overseas to war zones, eating and living with refugees devastated by conflict. Before they left, they took one last photo. In the picture, I was still a baby swaddled in blankets, held by a smiling, gentle man and woman. A family of three, happily leaning against each other. At that time, I didn’t know that would be the last time I would be hugged by my parents for the rest of my life. That was the one thing that made me beat my chest in frustration countless times during my childhood. I hated myself for not developing memories earlier—so I could at least remember what it felt like to be in my parents’ arms. That would have definitely been an experience worth remembering for a lifetime. Unfortunately, there are no “what ifs.” Communication technology wasn’t very advanced back then. I was dumped with my grandmother, who lived alone in a rural town in the Midwest. The old woman didn’t really know how to use the clunky cell phone my parents left her. At the beginning of every month, she would lean on her cane and walk miles to the post office in town to see if there were any letters for us. When I got a little older, she took me with her. Every time before we left the house, I would put on my nice Sunday dress that I usually saved for special occasions, and I would wear two flower clips in the shiny black braids Grandma tied for me. I thought my parents could see me through the letters, so I had to dress up beautifully for them. But I never received a single letter. It wasn’t until third grade, when my English teacher assigned us to write a letter to our mothers, that I finally realized letters were only sent one way. My parents wouldn’t magically appear in the post office to hear me tell them how much I missed them. Thankfully, even without letters, we had the television. My parents had been abroad for years, missing Thanksgiving and Christmas for seven or eight years straight. Occasionally, they would ask someone to send Grandma some new appliances. When that 45-inch color TV was set up in our living room, it drew many neighbors to come and watch. Grandma was hospitable, inviting everyone in to watch TV together. Once the antenna was set up and the TV was turned on, it happened to be the evening news. The anchor in a suit said a few words, the screen cut, and a man and a woman in plain clothes holding microphones appeared on the screen. In that instant, my eyes lit up. The people on the news were my parents. Standing in front of the smoke of war, they concisely reported on the local situation and urged society to extend a helping hand to the innocent refugees suffering from the disaster. Looking at their faces, which were much more weathered than in the photograph, I walked toward the TV in a daze. “Daddy, Mommy…” I looked up, calling out to them loudly, but received no response. 02 From then on, watching the news became my unbreakable habit. They weren’t on the news every day, but whenever they were, I would always have a good dream that night. In the dream, my parents took me with them, and we went exploring together. They would hold me in their arms, rub my head, and call me their sweet girl. Later, I started middle school in the town. By then, cell phones had slowly become more common. One day after school, I dug out that old cell phone from Grandma’s nightstand that hadn’t been turned on in a long time. I charged it, and when I found the number saved under my parents’ names in the contacts, my heart pounded uncontrollably. The call didn’t go through; the phone plan had been out of minutes for a long time. Later, I saved up my allowance for a long time, silently reciting that string of numbers that represented my parents every day. Finally, on my birthday, I gave a ten-dollar bill to the owner of the convenience store at the edge of town and borrowed her phone to dial that number. The phone rang for a long time. Just when I thought no one would answer. That gentle male voice that haunted my dreams day and night sounded. “Daddy!” I shouted his name excitedly, telling him it was Chloe. But he was silent for a long time. It seemed he couldn’t even remember that he had a daughter named Chloe back in his hometown. When he finally spoke, his voice was rushed. He said, “Chloe, Daddy is busy with work. I’ll call you back later. Be a good girl and listen to Grandma.” After saying that, he hung up directly without waiting for my reply. Holding the phone, which had been warmed by my ear, I felt a deep sense of loss. That was the first time in my memory that I had spoken to my father. A child’s intuition is actually very sharp. On that very day, I suddenly realized something. My parents didn’t miss me as naturally as I missed them. From then on, I couldn’t break the habit of waiting in front of the TV for the news, but when I waited, I was never as excited as before. I used to imagine I was a loved girl, thinking my parents also wanted to see me through the screen. But now, I finally understood that they didn’t seem to love me. To them, I was a stranger who left little impression because we had been apart for so long. 03 A turning point happened when I was in high school. At that time, in order to get into the journalism industry, I buried myself in my studies all day. High school required boarding, so I naturally lost the opportunity to watch the news every day. One day after evening study hall, I saw Grandma standing at the classroom door leaning on her cane. She had even specifically put on a new dress. As soon as she saw me, she said excitedly, “Chloe, your mom and dad are back! Let’s go pick them up.” In that moment, the books in my hand fell to the floor, and the whole world was reduced to a ringing sound in my ears. I was going to see my mom and dad. They would finally no longer be just cold images existing on a screen. I could throw myself into their arms and act spoiled. I could hold their hands, sit next to them, and show them all the certificates of achievement I had earned over the years. Growing up in the country, I didn’t have any special talents. Those certificates commending me for ranking first every year were the only things I could proudly present. I wanted to know if they would be proud of me. I hurried to the station with Grandma. While waiting, I adjusted my hair countless times. I quietly bought a pack of wet wipes to clean my face. Using the reflection on the steel armrests of the station seats, I checked my appearance over and over again, constantly regretting that I hadn’t washed my hair before coming out. I was afraid my first impression on them would be bad, but then I thought, since they are my parents, they shouldn’t judge. I had already entered puberty by then, and my ignorant self-esteem had long since taken root. I thought, since my parents neglected me so much when I was little, when I see them, I should act a bit reserved so we’d be even. Grandma and I ultimately didn’t wait for my parents. When we had been sitting at the station until past midnight, a friend of my dad’s came looking for Grandma. He said my dad had called him, saying they were stopping in Washington D.C. for only a week. Once they finished handing over their work, they would be deployed again, so there was no need to make the trip back to their hometown. They told us not to wait. I listened to this news numbly, my head dizzy, only feeling that this was exactly what they would do. But there was an added layer of contempt for them in my heart. I thought, Grandma is getting old. Even I know to respect and care for her, yet they let their own mother’s expectations fall flat time and time again. Perhaps they weren’t as wonderful as I imagined, perhaps… they weren’t even as good as me. After going back, I got a high fever. While I was sick, I found out the reason for their return from the uncle who came to visit me. The war zone they were stationed in had been completely destroyed by artillery fire. The attacks came too suddenly; the journalists were a step too slow to evacuate, and many were injured. My parents, to record the war-torn city firsthand, forcibly delayed their departure until the very end. Their best friend—the photographer who had braved life and death with them—died as a result. They carried the weight of their friend’s life and expectations, making them even more unwilling to stop. After returning to regroup, they quickly packed their bags and headed to the front lines again. As if to express their guilt, they had someone buy new cell phones for Grandma and me. They even took the initiative to call me. But we were indeed strangers. After exchanging a few polite words on the phone, we had nothing left to say. Before hanging up, my dad told me to study hard and said that mom and dad were waiting for me ahead. But my attention was entirely on the crisp “Daddy!” from a little girl that came through the receiver. Yes, they had adopted their colleague’s daughter. That girl, five months younger than me, was very pitiful. Her mother died when she was very young, and now she had lost her father. My parents took her in. War is cruel and dangerous, but they kept Harper by their side. 04 Later, perhaps it was out of genuine heartache for Harper. To ensure Harper could grow up happy and safe, they returned to the States, stopped being journalists, and found stable government jobs, settling down in the city. They used all their savings from over the years to provide for my sister, giving her the best education and family environment. From beginning to end, no one remembered the mother and daughter forgotten in the countryside. Slowly, my beautiful fantasies about my parents began to dissipate. I no longer longed for their love, and the journalism major I had once prioritized was crossed out of my plans. Seeing this, Grandma often comforted me. She said, “No matter what, Grandma will always love Chloe. So Chloe has to treat herself well. If Chloe loves herself, Grandma will be happy.” I studied harder and harder, wanting to pass my exams early and get a good job so Grandma could live a better life. But things rarely go as planned. During my junior year of high school, Grandma slipped on a puddle at the doorway while going out to buy groceries and fell. She didn’t tell anyone, living alone as usual. She even promised over the phone that when I came back for the monthly break, she would make my favorite braised pork ribs. But before the monthly break arrived, I saw my parents who had returned to the hometown to handle Grandma’s funeral. They stood at the door of the principal’s office, followed by a girl with a tan complexion. As soon as she saw me, she snorted coldly and turned her head away. She was truly confident and arrogant, wearing all her emotions on her sleeve. As for my parents, looking at the decent middle-aged man and woman standing in front of me, we were speechless, the atmosphere strange and awkward. Until they told me that Grandma had passed away. They came to pick me up to fulfill Grandma’s dying wish, to take me to the city to raise me. In that moment, my whole world seemed to shatter. I forgot how I cried and screamed, begging them to take me to see Grandma. But ultimately, all I saw was a cold tombstone. They comforted me as if it were their right, saying that without Grandma, I still had Mom and Dad. Their words of comfort felt unfamiliar and stiff, like they were reading lines from a script. Harper, whom they had adopted, made a face at me from behind them. “Mom and Dad don’t owe you anything. When I was suffering with them in the war zones, who knows where you were enjoying yourself.” She looked very indignant, muttering this in the background. It was that single sentence that completely ignited my fury. Ignoring my parents’ attempts to stop me, I rushed forward to hit her. My parents tried to pull us apart several times but failed. It wasn’t until I fiercely yanked a tuft of hair from Harper’s head, her scream piercing the silence of the cemetery, that a sharp slap echoed. The mother, who had always been praised for her elegance, looked at her palm in a daze, then at my red and swollen cheek. Belatedly, she tried to step forward to touch me. I turned my head to avoid her. Behind me, Grandma’s warm smile was printed on the black-and-white photograph. I finally realized that in this world, I was completely alone. Even though I had found my parents, they already had another daughter. They poured all the guilt they owed me onto her. In the end, they even hurt me for her sake. “Don’t expect anything from them anymore, and don’t love them anymore. From now on, love yourself well.” In the dream, an old and kind voice sounded. The gentle tone was so familiar. She said, “They are foolish. They lost their best girl. They will regret it.” I couldn’t help but let my eyelids flutter, and a tear slid from the corner of my eye. 05 When I woke up again, my heart just felt empty. All the emotions born from yearning for parental love had vanished. I was calmer than anyone else. Seeing me awake, the nurse checking the beds showed a look of sheer surprise. “You’re finally awake! You were in a coma for four days,” she said, about to call my parents. She came back a moment later, looking a bit awkward. “Your mom was just here. She must have had an emergency; I can’t reach her right now. She should be back later.” I knew what was going on. Today was Harper’s parent-teacher conference. Since my senior year, the two of us had been fiercely competing in grades. Finally, in the latest diagnostic test, I took the first place that Harper had always held. But Harper said that even if I got first place, it was useless. Mom and Dad wouldn’t care. They would still only go to her parent-teacher conference. I refused to accept that, which led to our race up the mountain. Thinking about it now, it was just a pointless ego battle. My parents’ love was illusory, but knowledge was solid. I had already achieved the rank I wanted; there was no need to compete with Harper anymore. In the evening, my mother finally arrived. The nurse had finally gotten through to her half an hour ago. She rushed over, holding a box of cake. She was perhaps a bit guilty and apologetic. But when the nurse told her I had already discharged myself and left, the guilt on my mother’s face instantly turned into anger. I didn’t have a phone, couldn’t hail a cab, and didn’t even have spare change for the bus. I could only walk home. It was easy for my mother to catch up to me driving halfway. Before she even rolled the window down completely, her angry voice reached me: “Chloe! Why are you so insensible! Do you have any manners, standing your own mother up?!” “I waited for you from 8 AM to 5 PM.” I looked at her calmly. “I had no money on me. You only paid the medical bills. I was starving, couldn’t buy food, and could only walk home first.” She hadn’t expected me to say that. She froze for a moment, then turned her face away and told me to get in the car. I obediently got in. Sitting in the front seat, she spoke awkwardly: “I was delayed by something. I bought you a gift to apologize. You shouldn’t be mad at your parents over such a small thing.” Hearing this, I calmly looked around and finally rested my eyes on the cake box. “It’s my sister’s favorite brand and flavor. Looks like she did well today, is this her reward?” As if I had hit a nerve, she took a deep breath, ready to explode again. But the moment she looked up, she met my calm, unrippled gaze in the rearview mirror. There was no grievance or anger like before, just a calm narration of a fact. “Chloe?” She sounded unsure and startled, calling my name. I just curled the corners of my mouth, offering a polite, business-like smile. When we got home, the hospital had probably already told my dad what happened during the day. At the dinner table, he rarely scolded my mom, telling her to be more thoughtful in the future. After saying that, he tried to smooth things over. “This was Mom and Dad’s fault. Don’t be mad, Chloe. Mom and Dad will definitely change.” His voice revealed a hint of guilt. From beginning to end, no one asked why I got sick. They just wanted to gloss over it. In the past, I might have felt wronged, but now I just wanted more time to study. There was no need to argue with irrelevant people. “I won’t.” My calm voice came out. Irrelevant people and things obviously weren’t worth my anger. Under their scrutinizing gaze, I ate slowly. I didn’t prepare after-dinner fruit for them anymore, nor did I offer a massage. I turned around and went upstairs to do practice problems. Around 9 PM, there was a knock on the door. “Chloe, are you free right now? Can Mom and Dad talk to you for a bit?” My dad’s cautious voice came from the door. This was a treatment I had never received since moving in. I frowned, looking at the physics problem under my pen, and couldn’t help but click my tongue. “No need.” Finally, I politely declined them. I rejected them, but they became persistent, insisting on talking to me. I knew they thought I was throwing a tantrum because I felt neglected, thinking they just needed to coax me. But gradually, they started to panic. Because they realized I truly, completely didn’t care about them anymore. 06 I no longer woke up early to prepare their favorite breakfast and tea, just so I could be the first to say “good morning” to them. In the past, they used to say I was too rigid and didn’t know how to act cute and sweet with my parents like Harper did. But they accepted my kindness without hesitation. Just like now, when they saw me in the morning, they still instinctively reached for their teacups, even though there was no longer the hand-ground coffee or herbal tea I used to painstakingly prepare for them. They attributed my behavior to anger and tried to talk to me several times, but I refused. After repeated rejections, they finally felt guilty. My dad, who usually only drove Harper to school, surprisingly asked if I needed a ride. I didn’t refuse. The pace of senior year was already tight, and I didn’t want to waste more time squeezing onto public buses. However, seeing me get in the car, Harper threw a tantrum and refused to go to school. With no other choice, my parents ended up driving us separately. My mom’s workplace wasn’t on the way to our school. After dropping Harper off a few times, she started complaining openly and subtly in front of me. I didn’t act “sensible” and yield like I used to. I just pretended not to hear. Over time, her look of dissatisfaction grew. But I had long stopped caring about her opinion of me. After I stopped trying to please them, my life ushered in unprecedented peace and relaxation. One day, Harper refused my mom’s car and caused a scene, demanding my dad drive her. She thought that since my mom was already dissatisfied with me, once my dad stopped driving me, my mom would definitely refuse too, and I would have to walk to school. But my mom uncharacteristically said nothing, just drove me with a dark expression. In that moment, the secret joy in Harper’s eyes turned into panic. I was equally surprised. On the way to school that day, I don’t know what my mom was thinking, but she was so distracted that she accidentally rear-ended the car in front of us. When the muscular, fierce-looking owner stepped out of his car, she visibly panicked. She rarely drove unless it was to pick us up, and getting into an accident left her flustered. Just as she was helplessly about to call my dad, I, not wanting to be delayed any longer, stepped out of the car. I calmly took her phone, called the insurance company, and then stepped forward to negotiate with the driver. She watched the whole process from the side, hesitating to speak several times. Fortunately, having grown up in the village and dealt with rascals alongside my grandmother, I found the driver to be quite reasonable. In the end, the incident was resolved without much trouble. And my mom, who witnessed the whole thing, started looking at me with admiration instead of dissatisfaction from that moment on. That evening at the dinner table, she proactively told my dad about what happened. Hearing it, he also praised my composure. They generously praised me, put food on my plate, and casually asked about my life at school. But I had no interest in answering. I picked out the dishes they gave me—the ones Harper loved—put them aside, and ate my meal in silence. Then, under the ugly expressions of the family of three, I calmly put down my bowl and chopsticks, turned around, and went upstairs to study. But this distance didn’t deter them. They actually became even more interested in me. After discovering this one strength of mine, it was like they had opened Pandora’s box, unable to hide their curiosity and exploration of me. They used to think I was dull and boring, unwilling to spend time with me. But now, the more they paid attention to me, the more they discovered my strengths. I had excellent grades, was self-motivated, enjoyed helping classmates, and had a good reputation among my peers. I was clean, kept my room bright and tidy, was a great cook, and even knew how to knit and garden. These skills, which I had learned in the countryside to ensure a better life for my grandmother and me, made them feel novel and surprised. So in their eyes, my dullness became maturity, my boringness became sensibility. They observed me constantly. Just like now, my mom looked at the heavy old photo album in my hand and let out a sound of pleasant surprise. In this album, every moment of them as journalists captured by the print media had been carefully cut out and treasured beneath yellowing plastic protectors. With the decline of print media over the years, even they might not be able to find some of these pictures again. But now, they were all perfectly preserved in this album. “Chloe… did you collect all these specifically for Mom and Dad?” My mom’s voice choked up. She looked very moved, reaching out to hug me, but I stepped aside to avoid her. Seemingly not expecting this reaction, she stood there awkwardly, wiped her tears, and then her eyes lit up again. She seemed certain that everything I was doing now was just a tactic used by a love-starved child to get her parents’ attention. She turned and excitedly went to share the “heartfelt gift” she had accidentally discovered with my dad. But she didn’t know, I was about to throw this album away. Three days later, she and my dad saw that album in the recycling center at the neighborhood gate. When she came to me angrily holding the album, I just said calmly: “I was going to throw it straight into the trash, but someone picked it up. Next time I’ll throw it further away.” That one sentence completely ignited the anger she had been suppressing for days. For the first time in a year, she raised her hand to hit me again. But my dad stopped her in time. “Let’s go outside to talk.” My dad tried his best to soothe my mom’s emotions. As he led her away, he glanced at me. I ignored him and just went back to my room to continue memorizing SAT vocabulary. 07 I don’t know how they discussed it. From that day on, they paid even more attention to me. This made Harper dissatisfied. She threw a tantrum many times, hoping to bring our parents’ attention back to her. But the effect wasn’t great. Instead, it was her own grades that gradually began to drag. She was actually very smart, but in the past, she only cooperated with her studies when our parents took turns coaxing her. Now that her focus was off, her grades plummeted. Finally, three months before graduation, my parents noticed her regression. That day, Harper was brought home from school crying. Her homeroom teacher had called my mom in for a talk, its words full of warnings and reprimands regarding Harper’s current state. In the past, as Harper’s parent, my mom only received honors and praise at school. This was the first time she was lectured like this. Feeling humiliated, she couldn’t help but scold Harper a few times. And starting from the moment my mom unconsciously blurted out, “Why can’t you be as sensible as Chloe and save us some trouble,” Harper couldn’t stop crying. My mom panicked and had to take her home first. As soon as she got home, Harper rushed into my room and threw my things all over the floor like a madwoman. When I returned home, I saw this chaotic scene. Seeing me, Harper’s just-calmed emotions erupted again. “Get out! Get out! You’re the outsider! When Mom and Dad were struggling to survive under a hail of bullets, you were nowhere to be found!” “Why do you get to enjoy the good life forever!” She roared at me with red eyes, like a lion defending its territory, desperately trying to drive away the intruder. “Harper…” My parents looked at her, not knowing what to say. In the end, they actually cast pleading glances at me. What were they pleading for? Hoping I would say something soft to coax Harper, or hoping I would humbly admit that I was the outsider in this family. I looked at the parents who still wanted to pass the buck at this moment, and couldn’t help but sneer from the bottom of my heart. Right. Only people like this would only care about pursuing their dreams, leaving their elderly mother and young daughter in the countryside without a care. Only people like this would, to move themselves, infinitely indulge the adopted daughter of a colleague, letting her become lawless at the age when she most needed discipline. They had always been people like this—naive and cowardly, with selfish and cold blood flowing deep within them. They might be good journalists, but they are absolutely not people I should admire. Grandma, it turns out you were right. They are not worth my love; I should save that love for myself. I didn’t say anything more. I stepped over the mess on the floor, bent down to grab a few essential items of clothing, and after packing slightly, I turned and walked toward the door. “Chloe, where are you going?” My mom called out from behind. “I’m going to board at school.” This time, I didn’t look back. I said: “Harper is right. This has never been my home, and you are not my parents. There’s no need for me to stay here.” “What do you mean by that?” My dad, who had been silent the whole time, suddenly raised his voice. I ignored him and quickly walked out the door. “Chloe!” My mom chased after me. For the first time, when she spoke to me, even her voice was trembling. It seemed she also felt that after this departure, I would have nothing more to do with them. As if afraid to hear my answer, she raised her pitch before I could speak: “I know you’re resentful, thinking Mom and Dad neglected you before. But Mom and Dad know we were wrong, and we’re changing. Whether it’s Harper or you, you are both our daughters. Why can’t we just live together peacefully…” “We can’t.” I stated decisively. “It was you who indulged Harper’s greed, and it’s you who can’t handle the balance between your two daughters. With parents like you, we will never live peacefully.” The color drained from her face the moment she heard this. This was the first time she had heard such blunt, sharp words from me. She moved her lips, seemingly wanting to say more, but I cut her off directly. I said: “If I had a choice, I wouldn’t want to be your daughter anymore. You should go back to how it was before, just having Harper as your only daughter.” After saying that, without waiting for her reaction, I turned and left. This time, I walked very briskly. That yearning for love during my lonely, repressed childhood, which had once become a shackle binding me, was finally broken today. In the days to come, you must love yourself. I told myself in my heart. I must live even more wonderfully, carrying Grandma’s expectations for me.

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Author’s Note: As far back as I can remember, my mother spoiled me rotten while being incredibly strict with my sister. She bought me the prettiest dresses and enrolled my sister in the most expensive SAT prep classes. She told me I was going to be a star and didn’t need to waste time on useless things like studying. But behind my back, she told my sister: “You need to study hard so you can make something of yourself. Your sister is just a pretty idiot. She’ll spend her whole life in the palm of my hand, making money for me.” When I was little, the media called me a prodigy child star. Surely, I couldn’t be that much of an idiot, right? 01 My entire childhood was spent bouncing between movie sets and commercial shoots. Later on, the acting gigs gradually dried up. In high school, I finally returned to a normal campus. The moment I walked into the classroom, a lot of people recognized me. “Isn’t that Chloe Sterling? She was in all those shows.” “She’s even prettier in person than on TV.” After briefly introducing myself to my new classmates, I walked over to the empty seat next to Maya Sterling and sat down. I whispered to her, “I’m really behind on the basics. Please help me out.” A girl sitting nearby chimed in, “You guys know each other?” I smiled, my eyes crinkling. “Maya and I are twin sisters.” “But you guys don’t look alike at all! You’re so gorgeous, and Maya is…” Maya’s face instantly darkened. I quickly cut the girl off. “Maya gets amazing grades.” Growing up, whenever our relatives praised my looks, Mom would casually mention how Maya had just passed another advanced piano exam or scored top marks in English. She’d talk about her ranking in the latest mock exams. Maya worked so hard to be excellent. But in our relatives’ eyes, I was just a beautiful, useless vase. No one really liked me. Some relatives even felt bad for Maya. At family dinners, they would pull Mom aside and whisper, “You should stop playing favorites and treat Maya better. If you ask me, when you get old, she’s the only one you’ll be able to rely on.” Whenever that happened, Mom would smooth things over with a smile. “I can rely on both of my daughters.” 02 Maya could never hold her head high around me. That is, until I scored dead last on a pop quiz. The smugness in her eyes was impossible to hide. When we got home from school, she practically shoved her report card into Mom’s hands. “Mom, I made it into the top five of the class this time! I moved up again.” Mom took the report card, a proud smile spreading across her face. “Not bad at all. Keep working hard, aim for first place.” Maya shot me a sideways glance. “Didn’t my sister get first place this time?” Mom looked up at me in surprise. Maya smirked. “First place from the bottom, that is.” Mom’s expression instantly relaxed. “It doesn’t matter if her grades are bad. Your sister isn’t going to take the academic route anyway.” The smile froze on Maya’s face, and tears welled up in her eyes. “If I had scored dead last, you would have chased me around the house with a belt! Why do you play favorites with her?!” Mom quickly snapped, “Shut up! Are you and your sister the same?” Unable to hold them back, the tears spilled down Maya’s cheeks. She grabbed her backpack, stormed into her room, and slammed the door shut with a loud bang. Mom sighed. “Ignore her. Go wash your hands for dinner.” At the dinner table, Mom kept putting my favorite foods onto my plate. “Chloe, sweetie, you’re going to be a star. It doesn’t matter if your grades aren’t great. “If you ever feel unhappy at school, Mom will write you an excuse note and you can take a trip somewhere to relax.” The way Mom treated me versus Maya was completely different. But for some reason, it always left a lingering unease in the bottom of my heart. 03 That night, I stepped out of my room to get a glass of water and saw Mom carrying a bowl of soup into Maya’s room. The door was left slightly ajar, and their voices drifted out into the hallway. “Mom, you’re too biased! Why do you treat Chloe so well? You never yell at her. “She’s just a little prettier and makes a little money, so what? “She’s just built on makeup and styling. If you had sent me to auditions when we were little…” “Do you think being paraded around on camera since childhood is a good thing?” Mom interrupted her, poking Maya’s forehead with her index finger. “Do you have a conscience? I took every cent she made from acting to pay for your elite tutoring.” Maya sniffled. “But you buy her such expensive dresses, and I get nothing.” “What do those things mean in the long run? They just turn girls into empty vases,” Mom sneered. “A dress costs a few hundred bucks. The tutoring I’ve paid for over the years has cost hundreds of thousands.” Maya went silent. Mom took a tissue and gently wiped the tear tracks from Maya’s face. “Maya, remember this. You are the only treasure I am truly cultivating. “You need to study hard so you can make something of yourself. “A pretty idiot like your sister will spend her whole life in the palm of my hand, working just to make me money…” Hearing Mom call me an idiot, Maya finally smiled. She picked up the soup from her nightstand and took a sip. “Don’t worry, Mom. I promise I’ll study hard. One day, I’ll step right over Chloe.” Mom nodded, smiling as she stroked Maya’s hair. Standing frozen in the hallway, a dense, prickling pain stung my chest. Everyone thought Mom favored me. When we were little, she bought me beautiful clothes and expensive toys. Maya had to earn her rewards through grueling studying. I always got things effortlessly. But deep down, I always knew she favored Maya. When I was on set, it was always just my agent keeping me company. Meanwhile, Mom was busy shuttling Maya back and forth between elite tutoring centers. Unlike how she treated Maya, she never scolded me. She never disciplined me. She seemed to spoil me to the core. It turned out, she was trying to raise me to be useless. She wanted to raise an empty-headed, beautiful idiot. A girl who would willingly stay by her side forever, acting as her personal golden goose. She remembered every single academic achievement Maya ever earned. But she forgot that the media once called me a prodigy child star. I was never an idiot. 04 The next day, we had an AP US History pop quiz. When the tests were handed back, I got a 50. An F. Maya looked at my paper and frowned. “How did you suddenly score this high? Did you cheat off me during the test?” She didn’t lower her voice, and our classmates turned to look at us. “No way. Did Chloe really cheat?” “She used to get like 20s on every subject. Today’s test was super hard, and she got a 50? Definitely cheated.” “Chloe just has a pretty face. Maya is way better than her.” The teacher, who was handing out the rest of the papers, heard the whispers and looked over. “Who cheated?” I didn’t say a word. He walked over to my desk and scrutinized my paper. “There is an issue with your test, Chloe. You either left the short-answer questions entirely blank, or what you wrote matches the textbook word-for-word. Did you copy from the book?” “I didn’t,” I said, pursing my lips. “I memorized a few chapters of the textbook last night.” “Then recite it for me right now. Let’s hear it.” I closed my eyes and began reciting from Chapter One, word for word, without missing a single syllable. The classroom fell dead silent. After a good while, the teacher interrupted me. “You memorized the first five chapters of the textbook in a single night?” I nodded. “I have a good memory. I used to memorize an entire script in one night.” The teacher patted my shoulder. “Learning isn’t just about memory; it’s about mastering study methods. Keep working hard, and aim for a passing grade next time.” As the teacher turned away, the students around me started whispering. “Chloe is actually kind of amazing.” “Anyone can memorize a book.” “Oh yeah? You try reciting five chapters of a history textbook word-for-word in one night.” Maya narrowed her eyes, studying me suspiciously. “Why the sudden interest in studying?” I offered a small smile. “I just read it casually. Studying doesn’t seem that hard.” Maya scoffed coldly. “Studying isn’t just about memorizing.” 05 The moment we got home, Maya told Mom about the history test. “Why the sudden interest in books?” Mom asked. “I couldn’t sleep last night, so I just memorized a few chapters.” Mom seemed to breathe a sigh of relief and gently coaxed me. “Acting is already so exhausting for you. Why waste your time studying those things?” “But getting into a good film school still requires a decent GPA.” The smile on Mom’s lips stiffened. I forced a wry smile. “Forget it. My foundation is so bad, I probably couldn’t get into a film school anyway.” Mom quickly comforted me. “Chloe, you have so much acting experience! Even if you don’t go to film school, you’ll still get plenty of roles.” I began to understand. In Mom’s eyes, I was supposed to be a compliant idiot. If I showed even the slightest hint of an independent thought that she couldn’t control… She would snuff it out immediately. If I wanted to genuinely study, she definitely wouldn’t allow it. That night, I lay in bed scrolling through Reddit. I stumbled upon a thread titled: [How do I secretly study without the toxic people in my life finding out?] The comments offered tons of methods. Importing study materials into a fiction reading app. Listening to Spanish vocabulary audio disguised as a Spotify playlist. Finding a straight-A student to tutor you, and if you get caught, just say you’re secretly dating… I had to admire the creativity of the internet. I opened my iMessage contacts. I scrolled down to the only genius I knew: Liam Harrison. He was a year older than me, and both his parents were university professors. He was brilliant—already accepted into MIT on a full-ride during his junior year. We had co-starred in a few shows when we were kids, so we knew each other well. I asked him to tutor me, and he agreed. More accurately, he agreed after I sent him a childhood photo of him peeing his pants out of fear of a horse on set. 06 That weekend, I met him at a cafe. I arrived early and ordered coffee and pastries. When Liam walked in, he looked incredibly impatient. He wore cargo pants and a plain white tee, with black headphones resting around his neck. It made his pale skin stand out even more. The boy had grown up quite a bit. His features were sharper, his gaze aloof. He looked like the kind of guy who wasn’t easy to get along with. He sat down across from me, raising an eyebrow. “Chloe, are you okay? Since when do you want to study?” I lowered my eyes. “Because I don’t want to be controlled by someone else for the rest of my life… I want to break free, and my brain can’t be completely empty.” He stared at me for a moment, then didn’t ask any more questions. He dropped the mocking smirk. And started helping me rebuild my academic foundation from scratch. My foundation was truly terrible. Liam tutored me while constantly having to take deep breaths to keep his patience. We had to review math concepts all the way back to elementary school. When the session was over, I asked him, “Is there any way to keep people from noticing that my grades are improving?” He scoffed. “You have so much room for improvement, it’d be hard not to notice.” “But at my level, I can’t exactly control my score perfectly.” Liam thought for a moment. “How about you try getting a flat zero?” “A zero?” “When I was a kid, I was super rebellious. My parents realized forcing me to study wasn’t working, so they challenged me to get a zero. They said if I could score a perfect zero, they’d leave me alone.” “What’s so hard about getting a zero?” “You can’t leave any questions blank, and you have to get a zero in every subject.” Liam lifted his eyes to look at me. “I found out that no matter how randomly I guessed, I could never hit absolute zero. I realized that the only way to score exactly zero is if you know the correct answer to every single question, so you can perfectly avoid them all. “After I finally scored that zero, my parents backed off and congratulated me on mastering self-directed learning. “Crafty old foxes.” Listening to Liam complain about his parents… I suddenly felt very envious of him. 07 I took Liam’s advice and started working toward scoring a zero. The lower my score, the greater my actual progress. At first, Maya and Mom were wary of my newfound “studying” habit. But when they saw that no matter how hard I tried, my scores remained at the absolute bottom of the class, they gradually let their guard down. Eventually, I didn’t even have to hide my books from them anymore. In their eyes, I was a confirmed idiot. No matter how many books I read, the knowledge just wouldn’t enter my brain. I paid close attention in class, filled out every single answer on the tests… And yet, my scores kept dropping lower and lower. In their eyes, I was no longer a threat. Maya even started giving me unsolicited advice. “Sister, just give it up. Studying requires natural talent.” A disdainful smirk played on her lips. Her sense of superiority was impossible to hide. I sighed deeply. “You’re right. Studying is just too hard.” I rubbed my temples. Who knew? Trying to score a perfect zero is incredibly exhausting! 08 That evening, I was studying in my bedroom. Mom walked in holding a bowl of bird’s nest soup. “Chloe, why waste so much time reading?” “The harder it is, the more I want to try.” I looked up at her. “Did you need me for something, Mom?” “I really think you’re better suited for acting. There’s a movie that wants you for the second female lead, and the paycheck is huge.” I was currently a senior in high school, and my study load was massive. I didn’t want to take any acting roles, but I knew I couldn’t refuse outright. I replied mildly, “I’ll look at the script when I have time.” Mom smiled. “I’ll have them email it to you in a bit.” Not long after, the script arrived in my inbox. The moment I saw the director’s name, I had a bad feeling. Director Vance had a notoriously sleazy reputation in the industry. He was known for tricking young actresses into filming R-rated, highly explicit scenes. He would verbally promise to edit them out in post-production, only to leave them completely intact in the final cut. When the deceived actresses complained after the premiere, they would just get cyberbullied and called hypocrites. The script Vance’s team sent me was written very vaguely. You couldn’t tell there was anything wrong with the scenes at all. However, the proposed salary at the bottom of the email was several times higher than what I usually made. Did Mom seriously not suspect anything was wrong? I closed the email, moved my mouse, and clicked on an email Liam had sent me. It contained the AP review notes compiled by his straight-A roommate. Final exams were coming up soon. Anyone who made the top five in the school was practically guaranteed a spot at an Ivy League university. During the holidays, the top students would even get a sponsored trip to visit Harvard and MIT. Mom cared deeply about this opportunity. She desperately wanted Maya to place in the top five. Maya spent every single second of her free time in tutoring. Every day, she had to take a handful of brain-boosting supplements and stimulants. She often studied until two or three in the morning. Ever since Maya started high school, Mom’s need for control had grown increasingly suffocating. If Maya slacked off even a little, she would be severely reprimanded. Maya never got a moment to breathe at home. Because of this, she frequently fell asleep during classes at school. Whenever her grades slipped even a fraction… Mom blamed it on her not working hard enough, and became even stricter. As an actress, observing subtle emotional shifts is basic training. Mom didn’t notice it. But resentment was already brewing in Maya’s eyes. After one class, the teacher left an entire whiteboard full of key concepts. Once the teacher left, many students simply took out their phones and snapped pictures of the board. I also took out my phone to take a picture. “Chloe, is that the newest iPhone?” “That model is super expensive, it’s like over a thousand bucks.” “Can I see it?” I finished taking the picture and handed my phone to them. When it came to material things, Mom never skimped on me. I used to think it was because she knew acting was hard work and wanted to compensate me. Now I realized, she was trying to raise me into someone who only cared about material desires—a superficial shell with no independent thoughts. Just then, someone chimed in. “Are you two really sisters? Chloe has the newest iPhone, and Maya is still using an ancient flip phone.” Maya, sitting next to me, instantly froze while taking notes. Her pen halted, leaving a dark ink blot on the paper. She muttered, “What’s the big deal about a phone? It just distracts you from studying.” I remembered how embarrassed Maya was about using a flip phone. She had begged for a smartphone for ages. She repeatedly promised it wouldn’t affect her studies. But no matter how much she pleaded, Mom absolutely refused. 09 Not long after, the results of our final mock exam before finals were posted. I stared at the bulletin board. My fingertips trembled with excitement. My score was— Dead last in the school. A perfect zero. I had finally done it. After more than two years of grueling effort, I had actually done it. But the only person I could share this joy with was Liam. I took a picture of the bulletin board and sent it to him. Liam replied instantly: [Congratulations.] I smiled and texted back: [I finally did it.] He asked: [What’s your actual level at right now?] [I took two past AP exams for practice. I can definitely hit the cutoff for top-tier universities.] Liam sent a sticker of someone patting a dog’s head: [Keep it up. Try to become my underclassman at MIT.] I sent back a laughing sticker: [Liam, I still prefer being your older sister.] When we were little, I was taller than him, and he followed me around calling me “big sister” for a long time. But once he found out I was a year younger than him, he never said it again. He sent back two exclamation marks. [Chloe, I am a year older than you! And I’m taller! By a lot!!!!] Suddenly, my homeroom teacher’s voice sounded behind me. “Chloe, come to my office.”

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I was the top scholar, a straight-A student with a bright future. Because of my innocent, girl-next-door looks, I was dubbed the “Beauty and Brains Valedictorian.” At the start of my senior year, my homeroom teacher assigned me to peer-tutor the school’s notorious bad boy. I tutored him with everything I had, but he went around bragging that I was obsessed with him. Later, he faked an apology, lured me to a cheap motel, filmed an intimate video of us, and posted it online. “Her? She looks pure on the outside, but behind closed doors… damn.” Worse, I got pregnant. My father sought justice for me, only to be thrown off a construction site to his death. With nowhere left to turn and no one willing to help, my mother took me in her arms and we jumped into the freezing ocean. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the very day my teacher assigned me to tutor the bad boy. 1 “327 days until College Admissions.” Staring at the countdown written on the whiteboard, I realized with a violent jolt that I had been reborn. Sitting in my familiar high school classroom, my body couldn’t stop trembling. “Chloe, what’s wrong?” My desk mate, Sierra Sterling, gently patted my thigh, her voice low and full of concern. Sierra was gorgeous. She was the undisputed queen bee of the school. With her glossy, waist-length black hair, she effortlessly captured the hearts of half the boys in our grade. Right now, her brows were slightly furrowed, her pale fingers resting on my leg. She looked like the picture of a caring best friend. But I felt like I was being strangled by seaweed—dark, damp, suffocating, and freezing cold. “I’m fine.” I casually shifted my body, dodging her touch. Through the reflection in the classroom window, I caught a fleeting, imperceptible gleam of calculation in Sierra’s eyes. In my past life, I treated Sierra as my absolute best friend. Yet, she was the one who spiked my water bottle and allowed Ryder Kingston to drag me into that cheap motel. If Ryder was the weapon that destroyed my life, Sierra and her father—our homeroom teacher, Mr. Sterling—were the masterminds pulling the strings. Just to steal my full-ride Ivy League recommendation, they used Ryder to ruin me! At the podium, Mr. Sterling’s mouth was moving. I didn’t hear a single word of his bullshit. Because before the bell rang, he was going to announce the new “Peer Tutoring Program.” Ring— The bell rang right on time, and the students began to stir. Mr. Sterling, his large, greasy belly protruding, scanned the room with a stern face and slammed a plastic folder onto the podium. “Listen up, I have an announcement! To improve our class’s overall GPA, I’ve decided to establish a peer-tutoring system. The pairing list is right here. Check it and change your seats accordingly.” Without another word, he turned and left. The classroom exploded. Everyone rushed to the front to check the list. I calmly pulled out a prep book and started reviewing SAT practice questions. Unable to contain her fake excitement, Sierra asked me, “Chloe, aren’t you going to see who your partner is?” I didn’t even lift my eyes. “It’s the same either way.” Knowing full well I was paired with Ryder, she squeezed into the crowd anyway, then gasped with exaggerated shock: “Oh my god, Chloe! You’re paired with Ryder!” 2 Who was Ryder Kingston? He was dead last in every subject. Skipping class, smoking, fighting… if it was something a delinquent would do, he did it. But he happened to have a handsome, sharp face. He was tall and lean. Plus, he was more willing to throw cash around than the other guys his age. With his messy, textured fringe, he was insanely popular in school. At an age where everyone was expected to listen to their parents and teachers and be perfect students, Ryder’s existence was like a rebellious shooting star. Dazzling, intoxicating, and tempting people to fall. We were seniors. Pairing the number one student with the absolute worst student for “tutoring” was obviously messed up. Any idiot could see something was wrong. But because Mr. Sterling was the homeroom teacher, everyone was too afraid to speak up. This was when Sierra stepped up to speak for me, making the situation incredibly subtle. She was always used to this tactic—maintaining her flawless, angelic image in the eyes of our classmates. Last year, there was a nomination for the State’s National Merit Scholar. By all metrics, it should have been mine. But Mr. Sterling submitted her name instead. She was the first one to feign outrage on my behalf. She stormed into the faculty office, had a huge “fight” with her dad, and came back crying. I even spent the entire afternoon comforting her. Looking back, she must have been calling me a naive idiot in her head the whole time. In the eyes of our classmates, her relationship with her dad was terrible; he was a greedy, corrupt teacher, and she was a lotus flower blooming unstained from the mud. She just had “limited power” and couldn’t fight the system. But if you really want to understand someone, you should never listen to what they say. You must look at what they eventually get. The father and daughter played good cop, bad cop perfectly. In the end, Sierra got both the pristine reputation and the tangible benefits. “College admissions are right around the corner! How can he do this?” Sierra rushed down from the podium and grabbed my arm. “Come on, let’s go talk to my dad!” I finished the last calculation on my scratch paper and flipped to the answer key. It matched. I let out a breath and put down my pen. I looked up straight into Sierra’s eyes: “Sierra, are you discriminating against Ryder? Or are you just looking down on all struggling students who don’t get good grades?” 3 Sierra’s grades were very stable. She was the eternal third place. In the classroom, almost everyone had worse grades than her. The moment I asked that question, the gazes of all the surrounding students turned slightly hostile toward her. Even Ryder, who was sleeping with his head on his desk, twitched his ears. Sierra’s pupils shrank. Her hand slid limply off my arm. “I… I didn’t mean it like that.” I smiled. In my past life, I foolishly trusted her and went to confront the teacher. Her dad had thrown those exact words in my face in front of the whole class. Because of that, my popularity plummeted, and the girls who had a crush on Ryder even cornered me in the bathroom and beat me up. Now, I was simply returning his words, verbatim, to his precious daughter. “Excuse me, honor student.” The class representative walked by, intentionally and harshly bumping into Sierra’s shoulder. Sierra stumbled, her face pale, completely at a loss. “Oh? If you didn’t mean it like that, then why don’t you tutor Ryder?” “How can I do that?!” Sierra’s voice pitched high, shrill and panicked. Only after she rebutted did she realize how bad it sounded. Her lips trembled, but she didn’t know what to say to fix it. I stood up and patted her shoulder. “I know you have the kindest heart. You definitely didn’t mean to sound like that just now.” Sierra looked at me with immense gratitude. But I had already swiftly packed her backpack and handed it to her. “Since you’re so willing to help Ryder, let’s hurry up and give him this seat so he can move over.” Not expecting me to say that, Sierra’s eyes went wide. She stood frozen in place. Her hands were still gripping the backpack I had shoved into them. Our current seats were in the middle of the third row—the absolute best seats in the classroom. To show off his rebellious, main-character aura, Ryder sat in the second-to-last row by the window. Sierra’s nails dug into her palms. Her eyes slowly turned red. She looked like she was about to cry. I cut her off before she could cast her spell: “Sierra, why are you crying? I’m just asking you to give up your seat for a struggling student like Ryder. Does that really make you feel that wronged?” 4 Hearing my words, the piercing gazes of our classmates stabbed into Sierra once again. Having lost her composure consecutively, Sierra knew she was in the wrong. She lowered her head and wiped away her tears. “How could that be? Of course not.” Sierra took the initiative to swap seats with Ryder, and Ryder obediently agreed. In my past life, Ryder refused to move. I was forced to move next to him. Not only was his seat in the far back, but it was also in a blind spot for the classroom’s security camera. During study halls, he constantly messed with me, interrupting my studying. I reported it to the teachers, but without video evidence, nothing happened. This time, Ryder’s new seat was right under the camera. He just slept during class, not daring to pull any stunts. Mr. Sterling didn’t notice his daughter was sitting in the back corner until the next day. But since he had created this mess himself, he couldn’t say anything. I also didn’t painstakingly tutor Ryder like I did in my past life. I will never forget the smug look on his face when he took the study guides and notes I stayed up late making for him, and told everyone I was secretly in love with him and desperate to date him. His mocking, sleazy laughter. It turned me into the absolute laughingstock of the school. Now, Ryder and I were like strangers. He slept, and I studied. When the monthly exam results came out, the name “Chloe Adams” sat firmly at the number one spot. “Chloe, you’re amazing! You’ve been number one ever since freshman year!” “Yeah, at this rate, you’re definitely going to be the valedictorian for the state!” I smiled and accepted my classmates’ praises. It was a stark contrast to my past life. During the first month of being Ryder’s desk mate, my rank dropped to sixth. Because during the listening comprehension section of our exams, he would play music right in my ear, making it impossible to hear the broadcast. Now that I was back at number one, Sierra was the one who couldn’t sit still. After school, I followed Sierra to the back of the gym building. “Ryder, think of something! If this keeps up, I definitely won’t get the Ivy League recommendation…” Saying that, she stood on her tiptoes and kissed Ryder on the forehead. And I, perfectly positioned, snapped a photo of that exact moment. 5 The next day, Ryder launched a furious, aggressive pursuit of me. In the morning, he brought me milk and pastries. During breaks, he skipped gym to buy me iced lattes. He even pulled out a massive bouquet of roses in front of everyone, getting down on one knee: “Chloe, I fell in love with you at first sight! Be my girlfriend!” I feigned shock, covered my mouth, and pointed silently at the security camera. Due to his terrible behavior, the Dean of Students caught him and forced him to read a public apology at the podium during morning announcements. “Test, test!” Ryder grabbed the microphone, and with a booming voice, yelled: “Chloe! I just fucking love you! You can punish me, but I still love you!” “Quick! Cut the mic! Cut the power!” The Dean tackled Ryder, his face purple with rage. The eyes of the entire school turned to me. “Oooooh~” The crowd cheered and jeered with malicious excitement. I lowered my head, sneering internally. In my past life, Ryder went around telling everyone I was his desperate simp. This time, I’d let him play the simp until he choked on it. After class, Sierra came over to comfort me. “Chloe, don’t be too upset.” On the surface, she was comforting me, but in reality, every word she said was designed to push me toward Ryder. “I think Ryder really likes you. Plus, he’s ranked number one in the school’s hottest guys poll!” As she spoke, Sierra blinked at me coyly: “Chloe, your youth is so exciting.” Exciting? All I wanted was to quietly take my SATs, get into a top university, find a good job, and give my parents a happy life. Ryder was suspended for a week to reflect on his actions. When he came back, he continued relentlessly harassing me. During a basketball game against another class, whenever he scored a three-pointer, he would yell at me: “Chloe, am I handsome or what?!” If I hadn’t lived through the tragic experiences of my past life, I might have actually fallen into their trap. But now, I didn’t even lift my head, sharply filling in bubble ‘A’ on my English practice test. The whole school knew Ryder was my ultimate simp. When the results for the second month’s exams came out, my scores didn’t drop; they soared. I beat the second place by a massive 30-point margin. Sierra, on the other hand, was too busy worrying about me and Ryder. She dropped to fourth place. Realizing the soft approach wasn’t working, Ryder and his crew switched tactics. That night after school, I was cornered by a group of mean girls. “What kind of plastic bag are you, acting so fake?” “Our boy Ryder taking a liking to you is a blessing. Why are you acting so high and mighty?” Just as a girl raised her hand to slap me. Ryder strolled over, hands in his pockets, looking effortlessly cool. “Chloe, my patience is limited. I’ll ask you one more time: are you going to be my girl or not?” “Sure, but I have one condition.” The eyes under Ryder’s messy fringe lit up. “What is it?” 6 I shoved the mean girl who had been barking at me a second ago. I ran past them, turning back to flash a radiant smile. “Ryder! Win first place in the 1000-meter race at the track meet next week, and I’ll think about it!” During the scuffle with the mean girl, my thick, black-rimmed glasses had been knocked off. As I ran down the stairs and disappeared from Ryder’s line of sight, I pulled the hair tie from my head. My long hair cascaded in the wind as I ran toward the school gates without looking back. Before I could get far, I heard Ryder standing by the window, shouting to me: “Chloe! “I’ll win that first place for you, I swear!” The setting sun cast a warm golden glow. A gentle breeze swept by, and I turned my head, smiling and waving at him. Ryder was visibly stunned. I turned back around and instantly dropped the smile. During an interview for the college entrance exams in my past life, because of my pure, innocent looks, I was dubbed the “Beauty and Brains Valedictorian.” Beauty combined with any other strong trait is a royal flush, but beauty on its own is a pure disaster. Although my grades were excellent, my impoverished background attracted a lot of unwanted flies. In order to focus entirely on my studies, I deliberately kept thick, heavy bangs and wore massive, ugly black-rimmed glasses. Even though I had perfect 20/20 vision. Just like how there were two Ivy League recommendation spots. Sierra and her dad would never target the second-place student, Ethan Pierce. Because Ethan’s father was a renowned research institute director. I was the only one with no money and no power. I tried so hard to hide my light, yet before I even had the chance to bloom, I was trampled into the mud. This time, I didn’t mind using my advantages a little early. If I had to coat myself in poison, I might as well be breathtakingly toxic. When I got home and washed my hands, I looked up in the mirror and smiled again. The smile was brimming with the unique innocence and brightness of a young girl. Every frame that Ryder saw was something I had meticulously practiced hundreds of times, prepared specifically for him. Sierra, are you really that confident about your place in Ryder’s heart? Let’s test it out and see if human hearts are as fickle as they say. That day, a classmate captured my smiling glance backward and posted it on the campus forum, mentioning the bet Ryder made to run the 1000-meter race for me. A gorgeous female top scholar and a handsome bad boy—the gossip potential was off the charts. It added a blazing fire to the dull, stressful life of high school seniors. The post’s popularity skyrocketed, and someone even added my photo to the school’s Beauty Poll. Soon, I had more votes than the reigning school queen, Sierra. “Holy crap, when did Chloe get so pretty?” “Chloe has always been pretty! Didn’t you guys see her without those ugly glasses?” “No wonder Ryder is chasing her. I want to write love letters to her too!” … Amidst the overwhelming praise, one malicious comment stood out glaringly. “You call this pretty? You guys need to raise your standards.” The hate comment was quickly bumped to the top by replies. “Life is so boring without you internet trolls.” “Post a selfie so we can see whose breath is so big.” When I refreshed the page, the hate comment was deleted. I tapped my screen lightly, knowing exactly who the author was. Because only Sierra had the habit of using spaces instead of punctuation, but always ending with a period. The glow of the phone screen reflected on my face. I tapped on Sierra’s contact photo. Heh. It’s only just begun, and you already can’t sit still? 7 Sierra was left in the dust in both grades and the beauty poll. No matter how good she was at hiding it, she couldn’t keep up the act these past few days and stopped hovering around me. Ryder, on the other hand, was practicing running on the track every single day. Outside the window, dark clouds gathered, but there wasn’t a breath of wind. A storm was coming. Bang! The referee fired the starting gun, and the boys’ 1000-meter race officially began. The 1000-meter isn’t as fierce as sprints; the results become obvious quickly. By the final lap, only Ryder and a track-and-field student were leading the pack. Ryder was trailing by one body length. Sierra’s eyes darted around, and she approached me with malicious intent. “Chloe, aren’t you going to the finish line to cheer for Ryder?” The other girls heard and excitedly joined in: “Yeah, yeah! With your encouragement, Ryder might actually take first place!” “He could win another gold medal for our class!” I blushed, lowered my head, and grabbed Sierra’s sleeve. “Will you go with me? I’m too embarrassed to go alone…” I acted incredibly shy. The corners of Sierra’s mouth curled into a mocking sneer. “Sure, I’ll go with you.” With 200 meters left, I cupped my hands around my mouth and yelled: “Ryder! You got this!” I don’t know if my cheering actually worked. Hearing my voice, Ryder smiled wildly and sprinted with everything he had, actually passing the track athlete. The boy had a tall, athletic build, his lean muscles visible under his thin sportswear. He crossed the finish line amidst the cheers of the crowd, but he didn’t stop. Instead, he ran straight toward me and crashed heavily into my embrace. Time stood still. The cheering and shouting of the surrounding students seemed so far away. The only thing ringing in my ears was Ryder’s wildly beating heart. Thump-thump, thump-thump! Deafening. People are masochists. Things obtained too easily are never cherished. In my past life, out of the goodness of my heart, I tutored Ryder for free. Not only was he ungrateful, but he ruined my family and my life. Now, I just set up a tiny, insignificant hurdle, and his attitude toward me took a 180-degree turn. Listening to his racing heartbeat. I wondered, Ryder, did your heart ever beat this wildly for Sierra? But right now, this palpitation was entirely because of me. Ryder’s voice carried the heavy panting of post-exercise exhaustion: “Chloe… I fucking did it!” He declared it to me with a massive grin, the joy in his eyes shining like stars. I rested my chin on his shoulder. “Yeah. Congratulations.” The students around us were cheering and gossiping. Sierra stood off to the side, looking utterly lonely, unable to force even a fake smile. Watching her nails dig deeply into her palms, I smiled even brighter. That night, Ryder walked Sierra home. On the way back, they walked one in front of the other, seemingly in a cold war. Suddenly, Sierra turned around and hugged Ryder tightly. They embraced for a very long time. She probably wanted to overwrite the traces of my existence. Truly laughable. 8 The next day after class, Ryder cornered me in the equipment room. He had a natural, bad-boy charm to him. Leaning casually against the wall with one arm, his silhouette alone was enough to make the school girls scream. “I guess I can be your boyfriend now, right?” He was in a great mood, using his index finger to lightly tilt my chin up. His handsome features leaned in close. His gaze landed aggressively on my lips. His outer shell was undeniably seductive. At the critical moment, I blinked, raising my hand to place it between us. His warm breath hit my fingertips, the tension rising. Confusion flashed through Ryder’s eyes as he forcefully wrapped an arm around my waist. “I know the person you actually like isn’t me.” Ryder’s pupils quaked, and the hand gripping my waist froze. I slowly broke free from his hold. “What are you talking about? I don’t get it,” Ryder deflected, looking down. I opened my phone and pulled up the photo I took of him and Sierra being intimate. Leaning close to his ear, I whispered seductively: “You like Sierra. I can help you.” Seeing the photo, Ryder gave up fighting. He let out a self-deprecating laugh: “How are you going to help me?” I raised my hand, dodging his attempt to snatch my phone. “I can fake date you and teach you how to win Sierra’s heart.” Ryder leaned against the wall, half of his face hidden in shadows. After a long time, the left corner of his mouth twitched upward. “Why should I trust you?” I sneered: “Because on your own, you’ll never get Sierra in this lifetime.” “Anyway, you have nothing to lose. I suggest you think about it.” I turned to leave. Before I could walk out the door, Ryder grabbed my wrist. “What do I have to do?” “Did you bring the medal?” Ryder nodded, pulling the boys’ 1000m gold medal from his bag. “Put it on me,” I commanded. Ryder froze for a second, then obediently complied. Click. I found the perfect angle and took a picture of him placing the medal around my neck. I took his phone, transferred the photo, and posted it on his social media. Ryder angrily snatched his phone back, his tone hostile: “What the hell are you doing?” “The first step to being with a girl: formally and openly bringing her into your life.” Ryder stopped his thumb from hitting the delete button. I patted his shoulder: “You see, the reason you haven’t been able to take things to the next level with Sierra is because you’re always so hesitant and cowardly.” “I know you’re already used to your dynamic with Sierra, and you can’t change it overnight. So I’ll practice with you, how about that?” Time slipped by, second by second. After a long silence, Ryder finally muttered heavily, “Fine.”

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When the billionaire couple came to adopt us, my sister immediately clung to them, leaving me alone to live with our grandmother. She thought she was securing a future of immense wealth and luxury. What she didn’t know was that her new “brother” was a violent psychopath who tormented her every single day. Her adoptive parents were completely biased, only scolding and beating her. In the end, she lost her mind, stabbed her entire adoptive family, and was thrown in prison. I, on the other hand, became the youngest head researcher at the State Agricultural Research Institute. I developed a revolutionary strain of high-yield wheat, was nominated for a prestigious national science award, and had a limitless future. My sister escaped from prison, crashed my award ceremony, and murdered me in a fit of jealous rage. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day the billionaires came to adopt us. This time, my sister lunged to grab our grandmother’s arm first, shooting me a venomous glare: “Sister, it’s your turn to go to hell.” But she didn’t realize that no matter which path you choose, if you don’t use your brain, it always leads to a dead end. As for me, my dream has always been the same— To develop agriculture and change the world. 1 “Have you two decided? Who wants to come with us?” Inside our rundown, drafty house stood a couple dressed in impeccably tailored, expensive clothes. The woman looked at us gently, asking in a soft voice. They were the Vanderbilts, one of the most prominent, old-money families in Seattle. They had come to our small town to adopt a child, choosing between me and my older sister. My sister, Harper, froze for a second, her eyes exploding with wild joy. Then, she forcefully shoved me aside, turned, and threw her arms around our grandmother. Pouting, she cried out, “I want to stay here with Grandma!” The wealthy woman turned her gaze to me, her eyes curving into a warm smile. “So it looks like you’ll be coming with us, is that right?” Harper chimed in quickly, “Yes, yes! Let my little sister go home with you.” Grandma was rarely treated with such affection by Harper. She looked stunned, awkwardly reaching out to pat the top of Harper’s head. Before today, Harper had always despised Grandma for being poor. She bossed her around constantly and called her an “old hag.” There were even times when Harper had a midnight craving and, despite a torrential downpour outside, would shake our elderly grandmother awake, demanding she walk to the store to buy snacks. Grandma was understandably confused. She knew Harper hated being poor and despised our cramped house. So why, when a billionaire family came to adopt one of us, was Harper acting so out of character? Why would she refuse to leave with them and choose to stay? Grandma couldn’t understand why Harper would break character to stay in our impoverished home. But I knew exactly why. Because both Harper and I had been reborn. I knelt on the floor and bowed my head deeply to my grandmother. “Grandma, thank you for taking care of me all these years. As long as I have the chance, I will definitely repay you.” After paying my respects, I stood up. I walked calmly toward Mr. and Mrs. Vanderbilt. “I will go with you.” 2 In our past life, my sister had lunged forward, practically throwing herself into the Vanderbilts’ arms, decisively choosing to leave with them. She thought that by entering the opulent Vanderbilt household, she was guaranteed a happy, fairytale life as a pampered princess. She had no idea that the Vanderbilts had ulterior motives for adopting a daughter. The Vanderbilts had a biological son named Cole. He was well-mannered and incredibly handsome. Unfortunately, he was also an absolute psychopath with severe bipolar disorder. When Harper entered the Vanderbilt mansion, what awaited her wasn’t the meticulous love of wealthy parents or the doting affection of a billionaire brother. It was the torment of a madman. When Cole’s condition seemed somewhat stable, his parents decided to send him to a regular high school. But they were worried he wouldn’t adapt well on his own, which was why they decided to adopt a child. On her first day at the Vanderbilt estate, Harper was thrilled, eager to build a good relationship with Cole. But Cole despised strangers suddenly appearing in his home. Instead of welcoming her with a smile, he walked straight up to Harper and slapped her across the face. Mr. and Mrs. Vanderbilt acted as if this was perfectly normal. Ignoring the angry red welt on Harper’s face, they coldly ordered her to keep an eye on her new brother. At school, the other students looked down on Harper for being an adopted “charity case.” The local golden boy, Julian Montgomery, even led the charge in bullying her. Her life at school became a living hell. And when she came home, if Mr. and Mrs. Vanderbilt discovered Cole had an episode at school and gotten hurt, they would beat Harper with a belt or force her to kneel in the hallway all night. Harper lived a miserable life. In contrast, my life had been very peaceful. After Harper left, Grandma gave me all her undivided love and attention. I studied fiercely at school every day. After school, I helped Grandma run her small vegetable stand at the farmer’s market. Even though life was hard work, I felt incredibly happy. Later, a leading researcher from the State Agricultural Research Institute visited our high school and recognized my potential immediately. I didn’t let him down. I earned a full scholarship to a top agricultural university, joined the Research Institute, worked under him in the labs, and successfully developed a revolutionary high-yield strain of wheat. Because of this breakthrough, I was nominated for the highest national science and technology award, becoming the youngest nominee in history. My future was bright and limitless. Meanwhile, driven insane by years of abuse, Harper snapped. She stabbed her entire adoptive family and was thrown into federal prison. It’s a shame I never made it to the podium to accept my award. On the day of the ceremony, Harper escaped from prison. Seeing me standing in the center of the stage, surrounded by applause, she was consumed by a blinding, jealous rage. Like a maniac, she lunged at me and stabbed me over a dozen times. So, reborn into this new life, she didn’t hesitate to choose to stay with Grandma, determined to push me into the abyss of the Vanderbilt family. As I walked out the door, I looked back one last time. Grandma was looking at me with deep reluctance and sadness. But Harper, leaning against Grandma’s chest, glared at me with eyes full of pure venom. She sneered coldly. “Sister, this time, it’s your turn to go to hell.” She was absolutely certain that by entering the Vanderbilt home, I would suffer the exact same torment she endured in our past life. But hasn’t Harper, who already died once, realized the truth yet? No matter which path you choose, if you navigate life as brainlessly as she did, it will always lead to a dead end. 3 Harper was right about one thing: on my very first day in the Vanderbilt house, I learned that Cole was a complete and utter psychopath. My new parents brought me home and pulled me in front of a handsome young man with dark, intense eyes. They looked at Cole and said softly, “Cole, from now on, she’s your little sister. When you go to school, she’ll take good care of you.” With that, Mrs. Vanderbilt pushed me forward, presenting me to Cole like a brand-new toy. “From now on, your job is to take good care of your brother. You are not to let him get hurt in any way, do you understand?” I looked at the young man standing in front of me. “Understood.” Once Mr. and Mrs. Vanderbilt left the room. Cole lazily strolled over to me, looking me up and down with an air of absolute superiority. After a long moment, he let out a scoff. “What the hell is this? You think you’re worthy of being my sister?” The next second, he reached out, grabbed the back of my head, and violently slammed my face into the mahogany table. A loud CRACK echoed through the room. His eyes were filled with violence. He looked at me with pure disdain, like he was looking at an insignificant ant. “Stupid bitch.” At that exact moment, Mrs. Vanderbilt, who had forgotten something, turned back into the room. She saw me pinned to the table, looking miserable, with Cole’s hand gripping the back of my neck. She didn’t look surprised at all. She simply picked up what she needed. As she walked past Cole, she shot me a quick glance and said coldly, “Autumn Vanderbilt, keep a close eye on him. Don’t let your brother get hurt.” With my neck pinned, I could only shift my eyes to look at Cole and answer softly, “Understood. I’ll take good care of him.” Seeing how Mr. and Mrs. Vanderbilt pretended to care about Cole but were actually so profoundly indifferent, I realized something. I felt sorry for Cole. Truly sorry for him. The Vanderbilts were busy executives, and they quickly left for a business trip. Once I confirmed they were actually gone. I reached up, grabbed a fistful of Cole’s hair, and yanked downward with all my strength. My voice was dead calm. “Let go of me, you brainless psycho.” The pain made Cole flinch. He involuntarily let go, glaring at me furiously. “You dare curse at me? I’ll tell Mom and Dad and have you thrown out!” I stepped around Cole, my eyes curving into a slight smile. “Mom just saw you pinning me down by the neck. I didn’t even dare to fight back.” “So how could I possibly dare to curse at you, big brother?” As I walked upstairs, I warned Cole: “Until Mom and Dad get back, you’d better behave. Don’t pull any crazy stunts.” With that, I completely ignored Cole’s expression of utter disbelief and walked away. I let Cole pound furiously on my bedroom door until the walls shook. I didn’t even flinch. 4 Harper wasn’t satisfied with merely pushing me into the abyss. She started a live stream. Putting on a fragile facade, she filmed herself with tear-filled eyes. Harper had a naturally innocent face. With her dark hair cascading down her shoulders, she looked even more helpless. She spoke pitifully: “My little sister and I were raised by our grandmother since we were babies. I have a very deep bond with her.” “When forced to choose between the luxurious life of a wealthy family and the quiet companionship of my only real family…” “Because my grandmother’s health is failing, I decided to stay by her side. I just want to spend as much time with her as I can.” Harper paused, letting out a bitter, self-deprecating laugh: “But my sister didn’t even look back. She chose the billionaires. She didn’t care at all about how Grandma would survive after she left. I honestly feel like she’s a cold, heartless person.” More and more viewers poured into her live stream. Hearing Harper’s words, the internet mob quickly turned on me, ruthlessly bashing me as an ungrateful, gold-digging traitor. Harper quickly added, “I’m not saying what my sister did was completely wrong. I know that when given the choice, picking wealth is just human nature.” “I can understand why she did it.” “Of course,” Harper tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, her voice soft and gentle, “I will always stay by Grandma’s side.” Harper stared at her phone screen, flashing a pure, innocent smile, like a solitary white flower blooming in a barren desert. She clenched her fist, as if cheering herself on: “I’ll take good care of Grandma! We’ll live a good life together!” Seeing Harper’s pure, harmless act, many viewers felt their hearts break for her. Her live stream was clipped and spread like wildfire across social media platforms like TikTok and Twitter. Overnight, everyone was praising her as an untainted angel blooming in the mud. And I was branded the greedy, social-climbing villain. 5 Unsurprisingly, almost everyone at my new high school had seen that viral video. Julian Montgomery was the “Prince” of the school, born with a silver spoon in his mouth. He had never seen a girl as stubborn and principled as the one in the video—someone who, when faced with the choice between unimaginable wealth and family, chose family without hesitation. Not only that, she was strong and pure. In contrast, as the gold-digging, materialistic sister, I appeared even more toxic and deceitful. Julian always despised social climbers like me. So, he led his crew of lackeys to corner me aggressively outside the girls’ restroom. Julian was smoking a cigarette. He leaned against the wall, looking down at me with absolute arrogance. He blew a puff of smoke directly into my face. “Look at you… A filthy little cockroach like you doesn’t even deserve to breathe the air at this school!” Julian flicked his cigarette ash. The next second, he pressed the burning cherry of the cigarette directly into my forearm. I was being held back by his lackeys and couldn’t move an inch. I could only watch as Julian’s cigarette burned into my skin. With a sickening sizzle, an angry, red blister instantly formed. Seeing this, the boys around him erupted into a chorus of mocking, sinister laughter. Harper had been tipped off and brought over, arriving just in time to witness the scene. Immediately, she widened her eyes, covered her mouth, and gasped in shock, “How could you guys do this?!” Julian looked up, lazily pushed himself off the wall, walked over to Harper, and chuckled softly. “Hey there, little thing.” “I’m getting revenge for you. Don’t you like that?” Harper stole a quick glance at me, hiding the triumph in her eyes. Then, she stomped her foot, looking angrily at Julian. “I don’t like this! This is going way too far!” Seeing Harper scrunch her nose in anger, Julian scoffed. He grabbed her arm, threw his arm around her shoulder, and steered her away. “Don’t like it? Fine, I’ll use a different method next time.” Harper’s voice was sweet and coquettish: “Julian, how can you treat a classmate like that? You shouldn’t!” As they rounded the corner, Harper subtly looked back, sweeping a contemptuous glare over me. She was naturally triumphant. In her past life, the person who bullied her the most at school was Julian. In this life, with our positions swapped, Julian had actually taken a liking to her and was helping her bully me. But, dear sister, we’ve been reborn. Relying on a man—is that really your only strategy? 6 During his first few days at school, Cole was actually quite calm. He kept to himself and didn’t cause any trouble. But when I returned to the classroom after handing in a test, I found the room in absolute chaos. Cole’s desk had been flipped over, his books scattered all over the floor. Cole was nowhere to be seen. The other students still had fear in their eyes. They told me what happened. Cole had been sitting perfectly still when he suddenly snapped. Out of nowhere, he went into a frenzy, violently smashing everything within his reach. I found Cole in an empty classroom down the hall. Teachers were standing hesitantly at the door, but no one dared to go inside. He was sitting silently on a single chair in the middle of the room, a bottomless, violent rage hiding beneath his eyes. Seeing this scene, a look of venomous glee flashed across Harper’s face. The memories of being abused by Cole when he lost his mind in our past life were still fresh. She screamed in mock terror: “Cole is a psycho! He’s sick in the head!” Having taken care of Cole for so long in the past life, didn’t she know that people having a bipolar manic episode shouldn’t be provoked? I marched forward, raised my hand, and slapped Harper hard across the face. I commanded her: “Shut up! Don’t say another word!” She stumbled back, hitting the wall. Harper’s eyes widened, and she opened her mouth to scream. But in the next second, she caught sight of Julian and his crew walking down the hallway. Harper’s eyes darted quickly, and she immediately started sobbing, fat tears rolling down her cheeks. She cried out, “Why are you bullying me?!” Seeing this, Julian’s jaw tightened. He marched over furiously. “Hey! Autumn Vanderbilt, do you have a death wish?!” I completely ignored Julian. I turned, stepped into the classroom no one else dared to enter, and slammed the door shut behind me. I faced Cole’s terrifying, sudden glare. My gaze was steady as I held out a bottle of pills. “Take your medication.” Cole’s voice was icy. He said bluntly, “Get out!” Seeing me step closer, Cole’s fingers curled into fists. The next second, he stood up, grabbed me by the throat, and shoved me toward the floor. Cole’s eyes were bloodshot. A low growl tore from his throat. “I said, GET OUT!” I wasn’t surprised by this at all. But this was a school, not the Vanderbilt mansion. This wasn’t a place where Cole could throw a tantrum without consequences. Growing up with Grandma, I had done years of manual farm labor. If there was one thing I had, it was physical strength. Without making a sound, I pried Cole’s hands off my neck, grabbed him by the collar, and flipped him, pinning him to the floor. Pressing him down, I enunciated every word: “I said, take your meds!” Cole was in the middle of a manic episode and couldn’t process a word I was saying. He struggled, trying to get up: “You dare treat me like this?! I’ll tell Mom and Dad and have you thrown out!” My voice was freezing cold: “Be my guest.” If it weren’t for the fact that the Vanderbilts had helped my Grandma financially in the past, and I felt I owed them a debt of gratitude… I never would have obediently agreed to leave with them. Unable to overpower me, a vicious light gleamed in Cole’s eyes. He opened his mouth and bit down hard on my forearm. He didn’t hold back. In an instant, blood was pouring down my arm. But I wasn’t going to coddle him. I punched him hard in the face, my arm bleeding, as we wrestled on the floor. Cole had already exhausted most of his energy during his earlier outburst. By the end of it, I had his arms pinned behind his back, forcing him to swallow his pills. Cole glared at me with pure hatred. “Autumn Vanderbilt! You’re insane!” I slapped him without hesitation. “You’re the one who’s insane.” “Brainless idiot.” 7 Because of this incident, Cole had his episode right in the middle of the school. Almost everyone now knew that Cole Vanderbilt had severe bipolar disorder. Harper went out of her way to spread rumors around the school, telling everyone Cole was a violent psychopath and warning people to stay away from him. When Julian asked her about it. Tears immediately welled up in Harper’s eyes. She looked up at him pitifully: “Cole is a very scary person. I’ve… I’ve seen him hurt people before. I just want the other students to stay away from him so they’ll be safe.” Hearing this… The slight discomfort Julian had felt vanished instantly, and he found Harper even more pure-hearted and kind. He pulled Harper into a protective embrace, waved his hand, and declared grandly: “Don’t be scared. Stick with me, and I’ll never let anyone bully you.” Hearing this, Harper put on a shy expression. She blushed, lightly swatting Julian’s arm, and whined softly: “What are you talking about…” Precisely because of the rumors Harper was spreading… Cole, who was already isolated, now had no one who dared to come near him. Except for me. At school, I kept an eye on Cole, making sure he took his medication on time. Cole was incredibly impatient with me. More than once, he yelled at me to get lost. I would just watch him swallow his pills, cap the bottle, and walk away: “I don’t actually want to be near you either.” Because during Cole’s last episode, I had impatiently slapped Harper. Julian had seen it. He believed I was bullying Harper, which made him despise me even more. At school, I often found my desk and chair covered in permanent marker, spelling out “Bitch” and “Slut.” When I went to the cafeteria to eat, people would intentionally bump into me, spilling food all over my clothes. Sometimes, I’d go to the bathroom and come back to find snakes, dead rats, or cockroaches stuffed in my backpack. Sometimes they were dead, sometimes they were alive. Seeing me freeze. Julian would lean against the windowsill with his lackeys, laughing so hard they were doubled over. I didn’t even change my expression. I simply walked over, reached into his uniform collar, and stuffed the creatures right back in. Julian shrieked in terror, jumping around trying to shake the dead rat out of his shirt. He screamed at me: “Are you insane?!” I didn’t say a word, just turned and walked back to my seat. Julian’s gaze turned dark and sinister. He glared at me: “I’m going to kill you.”

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