I thought Frederic shielding me from a knife with his own body was the deepest love of my life. Then I discovered it was all a staged act, a calculated ploy to make me willingly lie on the operating table and donate my bone marrow to his childhood sweetheart with leukemia, Lydia. He bought the hospital, deceived my mother, watched me take “nutritional supplements” every day, all to turn me into a convenient source of blood. When they injected me with sedatives and forcibly extracted my marrow, my mother died alone in a car accident. I never got to see her one last time. I dragged my broken body to a remote mountain village, completely numb inside. Two years later, he knelt at the medical station entrance begging for my forgiveness. I laughed coldly and handed him surgical scissors. “You said you loved me, right? Then reopen that scar you got from ‘saving’ me, and we’ll be even.” He actually did it, blood dripping onto the ground. I turned to smile at Luke, who had just returned. “Come on, the steaks are done. We’re having a feast tonight.” Watching the tenderness in my eyes for another man, Frederic completely broke down.

Clara’s POV Everyone envied me because this love was something Frederic had risked his life for. Three years ago, when a crazed patient’s family member raised a knife to strike, I thought I was dead. It was Frederic who blocked that fatal blow with his bare hands. His blood sprayed onto my white coat, dripping down the hem. As chaos erupted in the emergency room, he simply covered my eyes with that blood-soaked hand and said in a steady voice, “Don’t be afraid. I’m here.” That scar across his palm, deep enough to show bone, became the ultimate proof of his love for me. To ensure I’d never be frightened again, billionaire Frederic swiftly dealt with all the trouble. He brought me to high society galas, announcing to everyone that I was his future wife. To let me complete my residency in an absolutely safe environment, he spent money to buy shares in an entire private hospital. I thought, on this exhausting path of practicing medicine, Frederic was my only safe harbor. But tonight, everything changed. I walked into his study carrying warm milk. The drawer under his desk was half-open. I set down the glass and reached to close the drawer for him. The moment my fingers touched the edge, a medical document pressed beneath business reports showed its corner. Professional instinct made me sensitive to medical terminology. I pulled out the document. The header was printed in bold black: Bone Marrow Matching Agreement. Donor: Clara. Recipient: Lydia. Match similarity: Ten out of ten loci fully compatible. Those names stabbed at my eyes. Lydia, Frederic’s childhood friend who had leukemia and grew up receiving treatment abroad. My hand holding the agreement trembled uncontrollably. Not only did it contain my detailed physical examination data, it even outlined a three-month bone marrow maturation plan. Every item on the plan had a red checkmark next to it. My gaze froze rigidly on the familiar handwriting at the signature line as tears splashed onto the pages. So when Frederic had lovingly coaxed me, practicing writing my name over and over on blank papers, it wasn’t some romantic gesture. It was so he could forge my “signature” on this agreement. Footsteps suddenly sounded outside the door. I hurriedly shoved the document back in the drawer and retreated into the shadows by the bookshelf, holding my breath. Frederic didn’t enter. He answered a phone call in the hallway, his voice low. “Stop rushing me. Her hematopoietic stem cells haven’t reached optimal condition yet.” “Frederic, you’re being way too good to Clara. You even bought her a private hospital. People who don’t know better would think you actually fell for that resident doctor.” The teasing voice of his friend came through the phone, carrying a hint of amusement. Frederic didn’t respond. I felt completely drained, desperately covering my mouth to keep from making a sound. Cold dread climbed up my spine, numbing my limbs. The friend’s voice continued on the phone. “But seriously, hiring those actors to cause trouble in the ER, even deliberately taking that knife yourself. That false flag operation was brilliant. Clara’s completely devoted to you now. Won’t Lydia be jealous if she sees how you two interact normally?” Frederic cut him off coldly. “Shut up. Discussing Lydia’s situation to my face. Do you have a death wish?” “My bad, my bad. Everyone knows Lydia is precious to you. This is all to make Clara willingly lie on that operating table, right?” “Once the matching matures, we’ll use her marrow to save Lydia’s life.” Frederic didn’t refute it. He just rubbed his temples and gave a low warning. “Keep your mouth shut. Don’t let anything leak before the surgery. After it’s done, I’ll transfer a substantial health compensation from my account, enough for her to recover comfortably for the rest of her life.” Whatever else they said, I couldn’t hear anymore. Crouched in the dead corner by the bookshelf, my mind went completely blank.

Clara’s POV I’d been determined to study medicine since I was eighteen. Three years ago, I nearly died under that blade. The memories churned violently in my chest. The patient’s family member suddenly attacking, the blade cutting through air, blood everywhere… it was all staged by Frederic? I’d spent six months recovering, hiding in the house he bought, doing psychological rehabilitation day and night. He was the one who pulled me out of that psychological shadow. He was the one who coaxed me to sleep every night, saying “I’ll protect you from now on.” He even brought my mother from the suburbs into the city center. He even brought my mother from the suburbs into the city center. He spent a fortune arranging for her to stay at a top tier nursing facility under the family corporation. My mother had bad legs. He, a billionaire, personally knelt on the floor to change her bandages and wash her feet. My mother would hold his hand and laugh until she cried. “Frederic, I think of you as my own son. With Clara in your hands, I can close my eyes peacefully one day.” He would grip her hand back, eyes utterly sincere. “You’ll recover. I’ll protect Clara with my life.” In my final university year, he proposed to me for the first time, kneeling at the end of the emergency department corridor, saying “I love you.” Every time I saw the knife scar on his palm, I’d cry from heartache. I’d made him the only light in my life! It was all fake. No crazed patient’s family, no salvation. Just a cruel calculation to obtain quality bone marrow. After a long silence, the hallway went quiet. Frederic pushed open the study door, glanced at the warm milk on the desk, picked it up and took a sip, then turned and left. It wasn’t until the study door closed completely that I realized tears had been streaming down my face. An uncontrollable nausea rose in my stomach. I stumbled into the study’s attached bathroom, kneeling over the toilet and dry heaving violently. But only mouthfuls of acidic water came up. Trembling, I pulled out my phone and dialed the number at the very bottom of my contacts. My university advisor, now serving as medical team leader in a remote city. The phone rang for a long time before someone answered. “Professor, I’m sorry to bother you so late.” I pinched my thigh hard, suppressing the sob in my throat. “Clara? What happened? Your voice sounds wrong.” My advisor was clearly startled on the other end. I covered my mouth, shaking my head frantically as tears splashed onto the floor. “Professor, I’ve just made up my mind. I want to apply to join your remote mountain medical team. Is it still possible to sign up?” “Really? Clara, it would be wonderful if you could come! We’re desperately short-staffed here. I heard you ranked first in your residency evaluation… When can you leave?” “One week.” I bit down hard, swallowing the bloody taste in my mouth. “Once I handle things here, I’ll definitely come.” After hanging up, I braced myself against the sink and stood up, forcefully wiping the tears from my face. I stared at the red-eyed woman in the mirror and let out an extremely soft, cold laugh. How stupid, Clara. As a doctor who’d seen death and betrayal countless times, how could I give my heart to a businessman and expect salvation? I returned to the bedroom, opened my laptop, and without any hesitation bought a one-way ticket to the remote mountains for one week later. Then I dragged my suitcase out from under the bed and began mechanically stuffing in medical books and notes. From the corner of my eye, I caught sight of the long row of foreign labeled “premium nutritional supplements” on the nightstand, ones Frederic had specially air shipped from abroad every week, claiming they were to restore my health after years of night shifts. Every single day, like an extremely responsible husband, he’d personally pour warm water and watch me swallow them. Now it seemed they were nothing but catalysts to mature my bone marrow. I stared at the pill bottle in my hand, feeling a dull, cutting pain in my heart. The door lock clicked softly. “Why didn’t you take your supplements today?” A warm chest suddenly pressed against me from behind. Frederic pushed through the door, his arm naturally circling my waist, chin resting on my shoulder. His tone carried its usual teasing affection, his breath carrying the mint scent I used to crave most.

Clara’s POV Every muscle in my body tensed instantly. I forced down the nausea rising to my throat. “I just took them.” I heard my own hollow voice. “Why did you pull out your suitcase? Aren’t you working in the ER tomorrow?” Frederic’s gaze moved past my shoulder to the half-open suitcase. He frowned and released one hand to pull open my desk drawer. Inside was the train ticket purchase confirmation I’d just printed. I grabbed his wrist abruptly. The instant our skin touched, sticky revulsion overwhelmed me. My face turned pale, fingertips ice-cold. “Not feeling well?” Frederic grasped my hand in return, using his other hand to check my forehead. “Why are you sweating so much?” “I did back-to-back shifts in the ER for over ten hours. I’m tired.” I turned my head away from his hand. “I’m looking for thick clothes to wash. The season’s changing soon.” Frederic didn’t probe further, just scooped me up and tucked me into bed. “Tomorrow I’ll have someone schedule a full physical exam and give you two days off to rest properly. Your health can’t afford any mistakes.” He emphasized that last sentence. I closed my eyes, pretending to sleep. That night, I had a nightmare. In the dream, the troublemaking family member’s knife didn’t strike Frederic. It plunged straight into my chest. Blood gushed out. Frederic, wearing a surgical mask, approached with blood collection tubes, smiling. “Your blood is perfect for Lydia.” “No!” I cried and struggled. A hazy voice drifted through the dream. “Clara, don’t be afraid. I’m here.” Frederic pulled me into his arms, patting my back like comforting a child, kissing away the cold sweat on my forehead. Like a dying fish, I bit down hard on his forearm. Frederic grunted but didn’t push me away. Instead, he held me tighter. I slowly released my jaw, tasting rusty blood in my mouth. I numbly pushed him away, staring at the teeth marks on his arm, realizing I didn’t even have the strength to push him off. “Had a nightmare? Don’t be afraid. I’m right here with you.” He continued playing the perfect fiancé. The next morning, before leaving, he left warm water and pills on the nightstand, then sent a message reminding me to pick up my latest checkup report from hematology. Expressionless, I flushed all those expensive pills down the toilet. Such meticulous care for a walking blood bank about to go under the knife. His patience was truly admirable. Well, he had been acting for three years after all. I went to the hospital alone. The head of the physical examination department saw my report and joked with a smile. “Clara, you’re very healthy. Those loving nutritious meals Frederic has delivered every day haven’t been wasted.” Yes, excellent condition. I took the report back to my office. Passing by the VIP ward, I stopped inexplicably. Through a palm-width crack in the door, I could see inside clearly. Frederic sat on the edge of the bed. He held a bowl in his hands. Lydia leaned against soft pillows, face pale. Frederic scooped up a spoonful of chicken soup and blew on it to cool it down. He brought the spoon to Lydia’s lips. “Is it too hot?” His voice was low and gentle. Lydia shook her head, swallowed the soup, then reached up to grab the corner of his clothing. Frederic naturally set down the bowl and pulled out a wet wipe to carefully dab the corners of her mouth. His movements were practiced and natural, full of tender care. My heart ached watching this. So this was Frederic’s truly devoted side. “Frederic, I’m really scared. What if Clara changes her mind? After all, bone marrow extraction isn’t a small burden on the body.” That was Lydia’s voice, delicate, aggrieved, carrying a pitiful worry. Frederic gripped her hand in return. He pressed her hand against his own cheek. “Don’t overthink it.” He tapped Lydia’s nose. Lydia leaned into his embrace. Frederic extended his arm around her shoulders, chin resting on top of her head. “She won’t back out.” Frederic’s voice was certain, yet somehow carried a hint of heaviness even he hadn’t noticed. “Once this bone marrow transplant is over, I’ll give her a substantial compensation in my personal capacity, and I’ll transfer the villa in the south district to her name. She saved you. I won’t mistreat her. Ensuring she’s financially secure for the rest of her life is the least I can do.”

Clara’s POV The hospital room fell silent for a moment, then Lydia’s even softer voice came through. “Frederic, you’re so good. Clara worked so hard to save my life. Once I recover and we get married, I’ll definitely treat her like family and repay her kindness properly.” At this point, Lydia paused and looked up at him. Her tone took on a carefully probing quality. “But Frederic… spending all this time together with Clara… have you… developed feelings for her?” The hospital room fell into brief dead silence. Outside the door, I pressed against the cold tiled wall, nails digging deep into my palms, holding my breath waiting for that answer. After a long while, Frederic’s dismissive low laugh finally came from inside, as if reassuring her, or perhaps desperately convincing himself. “What are you thinking? I only feel gratitude toward her, nothing else. The person I love has always been you, Lydia.” Hearing those words, I slowly released my clenched hands, letting the blood from my nail marks blur across my palm. So in his heart, my life-saving devotion amounted to nothing more than “gratitude” and compensation money to buy off the relationship. With that final glance, I saw Lydia smile provocatively in my direction. I felt completely hollow inside. I stumbled back several steps, turned and ran toward the stairwell. Three years of constant companionship. In his eyes, it was just deception and gratitude. That evening at the villa, Frederic sat on the living room sofa flipping through a magazine. I took off my coat, put on my most obedient act, changed into slippers and sat down beside him. “Why do you look so pale?” He set down the magazine, habitually pinching my chin to examine me carefully, concern flickering in his eyes, concern he himself hadn’t even noticed. “I assisted in two back to back emergency resuscitations. Low blood sugar.” I turned my head, turning away just enough to avoid his touch. A flash of something passed through Frederic’s eyes as his hand froze mid-air. He didn’t actually want to hurt me. It was just that Lydia’s condition required bone marrow. He kept telling himself this was merely a transaction. Just then, my phone in my pocket buzzed. A strange text appeared on the lock screen: Hello Clara, your car in parking level B3, section D has been scratched by another vehicle. Please come handle it when you’re free. I turned around and said naturally to Frederic, “Property management just messaged. They said my car got slightly scratched in the garage. I’ll go down to deal with it now.” The underground garage was dimly lit, permanently reeking of damp mold. I’d just reached section D when several drunk, ill-intentioned men surrounded me from behind the pillars. “This little beauty looks so pure. Why don’t you keep us company tonight, sweetheart!” The lead man leered, lunging forward to grab my collar and roughly tear at my clothes. The crisp sound of buttons popping echoed sharply in the garage. I stumbled backward in horror. In the dim light, I recognized the lead man’s face. It was the “fake patient’s family member” who’d held the knife three years ago in the emergency room! “Get away! Don’t touch me!” I struggled desperately, but the disparity in strength was too great. Just as the man’s rough hands were about to completely shred my clothing and push me into hell. A massive crash! Blinding headlights suddenly blazed over us, accompanied by the shriek of emergency brakes. Frederic jumped out of the car, eyes bloodshot. “You’re dead!” Like a rabid beast, Frederic kicked the lead man flying several meters away. He struck viciously, quickly beating the remaining thugs bloody and sending them scrambling away in terror. After driving off the attackers, Frederic spun around abruptly, stripping off his suit jacket and wrapping my disheveled form tightly. He crushed me forcefully into his embrace, his usually steady, strong arms now trembling violently. “Clara… it’s okay now, I’m here, don’t be afraid…” Frederic held me tightly, his lingering fear palpable, his voice betraying a deep panic and terror he himself hadn’t recognized. In that moment, he genuinely feared losing me, feared me getting hurt in the slightest. Yet leaning against Frederic’s warm chest, listening to his violent heartbeat, I only felt like I’d plunged into an icy abyss, cold to the bone. I stared blankly at the direction those men had fled, recognizing the temporary actor who’d wielded the knife three years ago.

Clara’s POV How absurd. Three years ago, to get close to me, he’d hired people to stage an act, blocked a knife for me, and stole my heart. Now, to ensure I’d willingly lie on the operating table to donate marrow to Lydia, he’d used the same trick again, hiring the same group to perform this cheap “hero rescues beauty” routine to deepen my devotion? “Clara?” Sensing my stiffness, Frederic looked down anxiously to check on me. “I’m fine.” I slowly pushed away slightly, abandoning my struggle and obediently lowering my eyes. I concealed the disappointment deep in my gaze. Frederic, to drain every last drop of my usefulness, you’ve really gone to great lengths. The next morning, I’d barely walked into the ER when I sensed something was wrong. No one at the nurses’ station greeted me as usual. Everyone was looking down at their phones. Seeing me approach, they immediately fell silent, their eyes filled with shock, scrutiny, and barely concealed contempt. Dr. Lee, the supervisor, called me into the office with a grave expression and handed me his phone. Online and in the hospital’s private groups, several secretly taken photos were going viral. The photos showed me from last night, disheveled and in disarray when those thugs had nearly assaulted me. The accompanying posts were even more vicious, spreading rumors that my private life was extremely chaotic and indecent, even escalating to accusations that I had no medical ethics and didn’t deserve to be a doctor. My whole body went cold. I clutched the hem of my clothes, fingertips white. Last night’s nightmare that nearly destroyed me was now being ruthlessly exposed for everyone’s crude entertainment. “Clara,” he sighed, his tone carrying not stern rebuke but helplessness. “The online public opinion is getting out of hand. Those photos and posts… have seriously affected the ER’s normal operations. Many colleagues and patients’ families are gossiping.” I took a deep breath, my voice trembling slightly. “Dr. Lee, I…” “Don’t rush to explain.” Dr. Lee interrupted me, his tone softening. “Frederic already called me personally this morning. He said these are malicious online fabrications. To protect you from further harm by gossip and public opinion, he specifically instructed me to give you paid leave for a while, go home and let things blow over. During this time, just rest at home and don’t look at your phone.” Paid leave? I stood frozen. My heart, already dead as ashes, couldn’t help but ripple with bitter irony. If I hadn’t seen that bone marrow matching agreement in his study… I really would have believed this man was shielding me from the storm. Only two more days until I could leave all this behind. I silently counted down in my heart. This was just the final pacification before the walking blood bank went under the knife. I lowered my lashes, concealing the complexity in my eyes, and said softly, “Okay, I understand. Thank you, Dr. Lee. And please thank Frederic for me.” Frederic had arranged everything perfectly. First, keeping me home under the guise of protection, then when the time came, straight to the operating table. And the upcoming long break would conveniently let me recover from the weakness after marrow extraction.

Clara’s POV After staying home for a day, I felt restless. I decided that no matter what, I needed to go back before leaving to personally organize and hand over some personal items and unfinished medical records, at least to have proper closure. More importantly, I wanted to test whether I could still freely enter and exit the hospital during my “leave.” This was crucial to my final escape plan. So the next afternoon, I went to the hospital. The ER corridor still occasionally sent strange looks my way, but I no longer cared. However, fate never seemed willing to let me off easy. I’d barely sat down in the on call room when my phone rang. An unknown number. I hesitated, then answered. An anxious traffic officer’s voice came through. “Is this Clara? There was a multi vehicle collision at the downtown intersection. Among the injured is a woman named Rebecca Hayes. We found your number in her emergency contacts. The patient’s condition is critical and she’s been rushed to City Center Hospital for emergency treatment. Please come immediately…” My mind went blank. The pen in my hand clattered to the floor. “I’m coming right now! Please, you have to save her!” I grabbed my coat and stumbled toward the door. But just as my hand touched the doorknob, the on-call room door was pushed open from outside. Dr. Lee stood there with two male nurses blocking the doorway, locking the door behind them. “Dr. Hayes, where are you going?” Dr. Lee’s eyes were evasive. “Dr. Lee, my mother was in a car accident at City Center Hospital! I have to go now!” Tears streamed down my face in desperation. Before I could finish, two male nurses grabbed my shoulders firmly. “Dr. Lee? What are you doing? Let me go!” I struggled in terror. Dr. Lee, thinking I was trying to escape, waved for the nurses to inject me with sedatives while saying, “I’m sorry, Clara. Frederic gave orders. You can’t leave the hospital today. Lydia’s condition suddenly deteriorated. The surgery has to be moved up to today.” “No… you can’t!” I cried out desperately. “My mom is waiting for me! Don’t you have any conscience? Let me out!” I struggled desperately like a caged beast protecting her young, but the disparity in strength made it impossible to break free. “Quick, sedate her. Frederic’s private medical team is already waiting in the premium operating room on basement level one.” Dr. Lee gritted his teeth and gave the order. Ice-cold medication rapidly entered my bloodstream, bringing suffocating dizziness that swept through my entire body. My pupils gradually dilated. I reached futilely toward the door, tears mixed with cold sweat splashing heavily onto the floor, my mouth forming weak, desperate murmurs. “Mom… wait for me…” Darkness completely swallowed me. In that moment, I hated Frederic with every fiber of my being.

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On my first night on call at the new hospital, I encountered my wife, Natalie Warren, who claimed to be on a business trip abroad. She lay on a gurney outside the delivery room, heavily pregnant, blood pooling beneath her. My hand was gripped tightly by a man kneeling at her side, his desperate pleas echoing in my ears. “Doctor, please, you have to save her!” The nurse beside me handed him the surgical consent form. “We need a family member to sign before surgery. What’s your relationship to the patient?” The man took the pen, his hands trembling as he signed. “She’s my wife.” My chest tightened at his words, my mind flashing back to a year ago when Natalie had smiled as she handed me our marriage certificate. “Adrian, from today on, we’re officially husband and wife.” Sensing my shock, the man looked up with red-rimmed eyes, confusion written across his face. I quickly lowered my head, adjusting the mask on my face, and pushed open the operating room doors. “We’ll do everything we can for the patient.” But as for the relationship between Natalie and me, I think it had just been declared completely over.

After a round of emergency treatment, Natalie’s condition stabilized, and the atmosphere in the operating room relaxed. A colleague beside me lowered her voice to gossip. “I heard these two ended up like this because they were too rough during sex.” “The woman’s at her due date, and her husband couldn’t show any restraint. Young people these days really don’t value their lives when they’re in love…” My hands slowed for a few seconds, my mind drifting to when Natalie proposed to me, her eyes shining with light. “Adrian, marry me. For the rest of my life, except for you, I, Natalie, will never touch another man!” But on our wedding night, she put back on the clothes I’d removed, one by one, pain and struggle written all over her face. “I’m sorry, Adrian.” “I accidentally got a gynecological condition. The doctor said we can’t have sex. Just wait a bit longer.” I believed her. The consequences were that I was now saving her soon-to-be-born child. I pulled my lips into a mocking smile. So it wasn’t about physical discomfort—it was simply because she didn’t love me. The surgery ended smoothly. I held the newborn baby in my arms. It didn’t weigh much, yet it pressed heavily on my chest. When I opened the operating room door, the man waiting outside immediately stood and rushed over. His bloodshot eyes showed uncontrollable worry and anxiety. “How’s Natalie?” I looked at the man before me, recalling the name he’d signed on the consent form—Ethan Shaw. A complete stranger. Natalie had never mentioned him before. I handed him the baby and offered my congratulations. “Congratulations. The surgery went well. Mother and daughter are both safe.” Ethan’s tense expression visibly relaxed, and he looked at me with unfamiliar gratitude. He seemed about to say something more when Natalie’s gurney was wheeled out from behind me. “Ethan…” She lay on the bed, extremely weak. Ethan immediately brushed past me, rushing to her side. Natalie touched the baby with one hand and held Ethan’s hand with the other, her voice carrying a tenderness I’d never heard before. “Ethan, our baby looks so much like you.” “When she grows up, she’ll be just as handsome as you.” What a perfect little family, radiating happiness that stung my eyes. I clenched my fists, digging my nails in until my fingertips turned white, barely maintaining my composure. Elena Hayes had just finished surgery, and I’d just been transferred to this upper-level hospital. This wasn’t the right time or place to tear away this facade. After regaining some strength, her gaze fell on me. “Thank you so much, Doctor. May I ask your name?” Hidden behind my cap and mask, Natalie didn’t recognize me. I stared into her eyes, trying to find a trace of guilt. “My surname is Smith. Just call me Dr. Smith.” Unfortunately, Ethan quickly diverted her attention, and she didn’t spare me another glance. As soon as I returned to the on-call room, my phone vibrated in my pocket. I slid to answer, and Natalie’s voice came through. “Adrian, there’s a sudden emergency at the company. I might not be able to come back for a while.” My chest was full of rage and questions I wanted to demand answers to. But when the words reached my lips, the physical and emotional devastation left me without even the desire to speak. My silence made Natalie misunderstand, thinking I was sulking, so she continued talking. “Be good. When I’m done here, I’ll definitely make time for our honeymoon trip…” “Natalie…” Before she could finish, Ethan’s call and the baby’s crying sounded on the other end of the line. “Gotta go!” Natalie hastily hung up the phone.

Too much had happened today. The overwhelming absurdity made my stomach churn, and I threw up violently in the bathroom. In my dazed state, I made a phone call. “Send me the marriage certificate from the study cabinet.” “And tell my dad that Natalie cheated. I want him to withdraw all financial support for Natalie starting now.” According to the schedule, I was in charge of rounds next. I forced myself to gather my energy and picked up the record sheet. Standing at the door looking through the glass, I saw Natalie and Ethan squeezed together on a small single bed. She nestled in Ethan’s arms, one hand gently patting his back, dark circles under her eyes from staying up all night. Even though I’d completely given up hope, seeing this scene still made my heart ache uncontrollably. The knock made Natalie’s eyes fly open. I put on my mask properly and pushed the door open. Though it was a hospital room, it was decorated warmly inside. The table was piled with maternity and baby supplies, from large to small, everything one could need. Without exception, they all came from my heartfelt recommendations. The night before she left on her business trip, Natalie suddenly shook me awake in the middle of the night. “Adrian, you’re an obstetrician. Can you tell me what things you need to prepare for childbirth?” I squinted, somewhat confused. “Why are you suddenly asking this?” Natalie answered hesitantly, saying a colleague’s baby was about to be born and had asked her to consult me. Having just finished a thirty-six-hour shift, I was so exhausted I was practically delirious. The next second, Natalie suddenly sat up and turned on all the lights in the house, dragging me out of bed. “Adrian, write it all down quickly.” She forcefully shoved a pen into my hand, then viciously pinched the softest flesh on the inside of my arm. The overwhelming pain instantly jolted me awake. I worked on that list until daylight broke outside. Before leaving, Natalie carefully tucked it into a hidden pocket in her clothes, but when she turned around, she didn’t even say thank you. Suppressing my emotions, I walked to the bedside for routine questioning. “How are you feeling today?” Ethan held Natalie’s hand, his voice gentle. “Natalie’s feeling much better now. Yesterday was so dangerous—we really have Dr. Smith to thank for that. I haven’t even had a chance to say thank you yet.” “I had the factory rush-make a trophy. I hope Dr. Smith won’t mind.” I smiled, but my eyes fell on their intertwined hands. On Natalie’s previously bare finger was now a ring matching Ethan’s uniquely designed one. Noticing my gaze, Ethan turned the ring and explained, happiness radiating from his voice. “My wife designed this herself. There are only two like it in the world.” “It’s a bit ugly, but I love it.” I quickly lowered my gaze, hiding the tumultuous emotions in my eyes. The day after our wedding, Natalie removed the wedding ring I’d specifically commissioned from a French designer. I watched her seal it in a box and shove it into the deepest part of a drawer, never to see daylight again. “Why aren’t you wearing it?” She frowned and shook her head. “It’s too valuable. What if I lose it? That would be such a waste.” I said nothing more, just silently removed my own ring and casually tossed it on the nightstand. When at home, Natalie’s ring finger had always remained bare. Now it was firmly encircled by a band. It turned out that in front of me, she couldn’t even be bothered to pretend.

The baby slept peacefully in the nearby crib, facial features unmistakably showing Natalie’s influence. As the body shifted, a jade pendant slipped out from around the baby’s neck. The stone was lustrous—one glance revealed its considerable value. This jade pendant was the wedding gift I’d given Natalie. Now she’d given it to her illegitimate child. My heart felt completely hollow, as if something had been thoroughly carved out of it. Ethan’s cloying voice sounded behind me. “Honey, I’ll go buy you breakfast. You rest here.” Natalie looked at him, her eyes worried. “You’re not familiar with this place. Let someone else go.” Ethan waved his hand dismissively, looking at me. “Don’t worry, Dr. Smith is here. He can show me the way.” Only after receiving my affirmative answer did Natalie nod reassuringly. The door opened and closed. Ethan and I walked side by side down the corridor. I couldn’t help but feel somewhat ironic, mockery hidden in the corner of my mouth. “Mr. Shaw and Ms. Warren have such a good relationship.” Ethan’s lips curved in a smile, his eyes brimming with happiness. “Natalie and I both came from small towns. Two people out in the world naturally have to understand and support each other.” “Fortunately, Natalie worked hard and now has her own business.” “If that investor wasn’t so difficult, she’d probably already be among the industry’s rising stars by now.” I raised an eyebrow, a spark of anger igniting in my chest. Natalie’s company, from registration to financing, was built step by step with my father’s guidance. The biggest investor now was also my father. Initially, she’d refused to work at Smith Corporation, saying she wanted to provide me with an affluent life through her own hands. But her business acumen was truly mediocre. The company had been losing money for two years, with my father secretly covering the losses out of respect for me. But from her mouth, my father had become the most difficult investor. What an ungrateful wolf that can’t be fed. My shoulder was suddenly bumped. The person beside me held a red trophy. Ethan suddenly stopped, arms crossed, looking at me with a half-smile. “Dr. Smith, catch.” The trophy was handed over. The person’s hand trembled, and the banner fell down. When I saw the words clearly, my expression instantly darkened. [Shameless Homewrecker] Those words were like invisible slaps across my face, turning it burning red. My whole body trembled as I spoke coldly. “What’s the meaning of this, Mr. Shaw?” At this point, Ethan’s attitude completely changed. His eyes looked me up and down. “Natalie’s not here. You don’t need to pretend in front of me.” “I noticed yesterday outside the operating room—your eyes were practically glued to Natalie.” “We’re both men. Don’t think I don’t know what filthy thoughts are running through your mind.” He deliberately covered his mouth and dry-heaved, looking at me with disgust and judgment. “Some angel in white you are. All day thinking about seducing patients’ wives. Absolutely revolting.”

I slapped the trophy to the ground, instinctively wanting to refute Ethan’s words. But thinking of those two marriage certificates of unknown authenticity, the words stuck in my throat refused to come out. Seeing me struck silent, Ethan grew even more arrogant. “Hit the nail on the head, didn’t I?” “You deliberately chose to work in obstetrics to take advantage of people in vulnerable positions.” He raised his chin toward the person who’d delivered the trophy. “You, hold him down.” I looked at him warily, backing up several steps, shouting sharply. “Don’t touch me!” But the next second, I was struck in the head by a heavy object. A warm stream flowed down my temple. When I came to my senses, the corridor was already packed with onlookers. Ethan’s eyes were red as he pointed at me and shouted loudly. “Everyone, come see! This obstetrician specifically targets vulnerable postpartum women to seduce them!” “From the first moment he saw my wife yesterday, his eyes haven’t left her!” He directed the person holding me to rip off my mask and grab my hair, exposing my face to everyone’s view. After seeing my face clearly, a flash of jealousy crossed Ethan’s eyes. “Of course he has a seductive face—born to lure people in.” He came before me and slapped me across the face. My cheek instantly burned with stinging pain. Ethan deliberately turned the jagged side of his ring toward his palm and forcefully carved a wound across my face. The nurse who’d heard the commotion ran anxiously toward the director’s office, stamping her feet. I tried to break free from the hands restraining me, but the bleeding wound rapidly drained my strength. Natalie, seeing Ethan hadn’t returned, came out in a wheelchair to look for him. Seeing the crowded mass of people, she immediately panicked. “Excuse me, excuse me!” She struggled to push through the crowd, heading straight for Ethan and examining him thoroughly from head to toe. “Ethan, are you okay? Why are there so many people out here?” Ethan grabbed her hand, his face full of pride. “Natalie, perfect timing. I just exposed Dr. Smith’s true colors in front of everyone!” “He’s been deliberately hanging around you, trying to climb up the social ladder through you!” Natalie affectionately tapped his nose. “You’re always so jealous. Besides you, how could I have room for anyone else in my heart?” “But let me see what this Dr. Smith looks like that he’d dare set his sights on me.” Ethan’s finger pointed straight behind her. Following his direction, Natalie turned and locked eyes with me. “Clatter.” The things in her hands crashed to the floor. Natalie’s pupils contracted sharply, her face changing dramatically. “Adrian, how are you here?”

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During my last outdoor activity in college, I unfortunately encountered a mudslide. When I woke up in the hospital, I saw Julian Smith standing by my bedside in a suit, frowning at me. I opened my mouth, but before I could speak, Harmony Brown, standing beside him, spoke first. “Snow, you’re finally awake. You scared us all.” I didn’t respond. My gaze fell on their clasped hands. Their hands, which had been tightly intertwined just moments ago, sprang apart the second my eyes touched them, as if electrocuted. I let out a soft laugh: “So you two started dating while I was unconscious?” “Oh, and I told you we shouldn’t climb that mountain. Good thing you both made it out okay.” “By the way, you two weren’t so caught up in your romance that you forgot to submit my graduation thesis, right?” Julian seemed unable to listen anymore. He lowered his voice and shouted at me: “Snow Miller! You’re thirty years old! What graduation thesis are you talking about!” Hearing his words, my entire body went rigid. Because in my memory, I was clearly only twenty-two years old this year. 0

The hospital room fell so silent you could hear a pin drop. Only at this moment did I finally take a careful look at the two people standing by my bedside. Julian was different from how I remembered him before I lost consciousness. He looked more mature now, more like his father. When he wore a suit, he no longer looked like a child wearing adult clothes. And Harmony, standing quietly beside him, was no longer the scholarship student I remembered who always wore T-shirts and jeans. My gaze fell on the Chanel brooch at her chest. I remembered I once had a similar one—it was my eighteenth birthday gift from my mother. The first time Harmony went on stage as a student representative, I had even asked if she wanted to wear my brooch. Back then, she had lowered her head and smiled shyly, her dimples full of nervousness and uncertainty. She had said: “Snow, this is too expensive.” “I can’t wear a brooch that costs several years of my living expenses to give a speech.” But now, she wore a beautiful brooch, carried a bag worth tens of thousands, wore exquisite makeup, and her perfume smelled elegant and pleasant. Harmony seemed to sense my gaze and opened her mouth, wanting to explain something. But I still smiled and said, “Looks like our Harmony is living the life she wanted.” “Congratulations.” “Enough!” Julian’s roar interrupted my reminiscence. His handsome eyebrows were knitted tightly together. “Snow Miller, how long are you going to keep up this act! Don’t think I’ll fall for you just because you’re playing crazy! I’m telling you, it’s impossible!” I looked at Julian in confusion. “Why would you fall for me?” “Aren’t you already with Harmony?” Harmony finally found a chance to speak. Her eyes had somehow turned red. “Snow, listen to me.” “Julian and I aren’t what you think. I… we didn’t…” But the doctor who pushed the door open interrupted her words. “Miss Miller, do you feel any discomfort right now?” I gently shook my head. My hair rubbed against the pillowcase, making a soft rustling sound. “But… why do they keep saying I’m thirty years old?” “Isn’t it 2018?” “Doctor, why would they play this kind of joke on a patient!” The doctor’s expression became grave. In the end, Julian and Harmony were asked to leave the room. After that, many doctors and nurses came and went. Finally, as the sun crashed into the horizon, they reached a conclusion. “Miss Miller, you’ve lost your memory.” “You’ve lost all memories from the cliff fall in 2018 to when you rolled down the stairs a month ago.” I watched their mouths opening and closing, but it was as if I couldn’t hear any sound at all. So… I’m really thirty years old this year? 0

Although I had lost part of my memory, fortunately my bodily functions were fine. After staying in the hospital for a few more days, I was discharged. On the day of discharge, Julian picked me up. I don’t know why, but Julian had been very cold toward me lately. Actually, I had never told Julian that before Harmony appeared in our lives, I thought the two of us were meant to be together. Watching Julian throw my luggage into the trunk, then rather thoughtfully open the passenger door for me. I raised my uninjured hand in a gesture of surrender. “Give me a break.” “I didn’t mean to treat you like a driver.” “But it’s not appropriate for me to sit in the passenger seat when you have a girlfriend.” Julian’s face showed a flash of anger: “Snow Miller! Are you done yet!” I didn’t know what he was angry about again. I just maintained that ridiculous pose and stared at him for a while. A moment later, I walked around him to find the back seat, fumbling to open the car door and climb in. Julian said nothing more, only slammed the car door with a bang when he got in. He even drove fast the whole way, as if he couldn’t wait to send me straight to heaven with one press of the gas pedal. The scenery outside the window had indeed become strange to me now. This wasn’t the city where we went to college anymore. Our university was in the south, where you could see gentle scenes of small bridges and flowing water everywhere. But here—this should be Julian’s and my hometown. Through the dense buildings, I saw the abandoned building that Julian and I used to use as our secret base when we were kids. Only now it had been completed, standing cold and aloof in the center of the city. Perhaps in its belly, it still held all the silly things Julian and I had said over the years. We said we would go to college together. We also said that when we grew up, we would raise a cat together. And Julian had once said to me with a flushed face: “Snow Miller, wait for me to marry you when I grow up.” The car suddenly stopped. The violent shaking of the car pulled me out of those tender, sepia-toned memories. “Get out.” Julian opened the car door for me. His tall figure cast a pale gray shadow over me. “When we get inside, drop the act.” “Don’t think I’m as easy to fool as those stupid doctors.” He suddenly reached out and gripped my chin hard. “If you scare Mia, you’ll regret it.” In the sudden intense pain, I don’t know why I felt my nose sting. A round tear fell without warning onto the back of Julian’s hand. He withdrew his hand as if scalded by my tear. I pressed my lower lip, feeling dizzy from the completely different Julian from my memories and this almost entirely new world. I practically inched my way into that villa. I don’t know why, but the closer I got to this house, the tighter my chest felt, and even my tears couldn’t stop streaming down. By the time I stood in the entrance hall, my vision had been blurred into a chaotic kaleidoscope of light spots. But I could still make out, among those blurred shapes, the little girl running toward me. She had eyes too similar to Julian’s. I instinctively crouched down and reached out my hands to her, but she swatted them away and ran straight into Julian’s arms. “Daddy! Why did you bring her back again!” I froze slightly, even stepping back awkwardly. “Mia!” Harmony rushed out after her. “You can’t talk like that!” I forced an ugly smile at Harmony. “Harmony, it really isn’t appropriate for me to live here.” “How about I rent a place myself.” “I won’t disturb your family of three.” 0

Julian let out a cold laugh. “Snow Miller, get back to your own room.” “I want to see how long you can keep up this act.” “You like pretending to have amnesia, don’t you?” “Then stay here. When you remember who you are, then you can talk about moving out!” With that, he led the little girl named Mia past me. As he passed, he lowered his voice and said: “I hope by then, you’ll still be willing to leave.” I was left alone in the empty living room. When Harmony heard me say “won’t disturb your family of three,” she suddenly covered her face and ran off. She seemed to be crying again. Soon, I heard the voices of a man and child comforting Harmony from one of the inner rooms. I was glad no one was paying attention to me, so I wandered around the house alone. On the shelf in the living room sat photos of the three of them together. It seemed to be taken at an amusement park, with huge, brilliant fireworks behind them. Harmony leaned in Julian’s arms, smiling tenderly. And Mia, held by her hand, was looking up at them, with happiness practically solidified in the corners of her eyes and brows. I also saw Harmony’s trophy, matching mugs, and an essay Mia had written titled “My Mom.” Her still-childish handwriting carefully spelled out: “My mom’s name is Harmony Brown. She’s a beautiful and independent woman.” I read through it bit by bit, but the dull pain in my chest somehow grew more and more pronounced. When I reached the last photo of Julian and Harmony together, I was in so much pain I couldn’t straighten my back. Just then, the door sounded. A woman carrying bags of vegetables came in. Seeing my pale face, she quickly dropped the vegetables and rushed over to support me. “Ma’am! You’re out of the hospital!” “Oh my, you’re covered in sweat. Let me help you to the sofa.” My cold, sweaty palm rested weakly on her arm. “I’m fine.” “Could you please take me to my room?” “I don’t know which room I’m supposed to stay in.” Under the woman’s surprised and uncertain gaze, I smiled weakly: “The doctor said I’ve lost my memory. There are a lot of things I can’t remember now.” She supported me all the way to a room in the farthest corner. When she pushed open the door, the smell of moisture and dust hit me in the face, making me cough twice. The woman’s expression looked somewhat embarrassed, as if she also thought this room was too shabby. But in the end, she didn’t explain anything. As she closed the door, she said softly: “Maybe forgetting is for the best.” I stumbled over to the small wooden bed and sat down. The wooden planks beneath me creaked under the weight. Only at this moment did I belatedly recall that the woman had called me “ma’am.” But shouldn’t the ma’am of this house be Harmony? I was so confused by everything that had happened these past few days, but as I looked around the room, I spotted a pen abandoned in the corner of the desk. That pen was my father’s keepsake. I never went anywhere without it. If it was here now, it meant I must have lived in this room regularly. But why would I keep living in someone else’s house? Didn’t I have my own home? At this thought, I forced myself through the severe headache to move to the desk. In the desk drawer, I found my diary. And a ring. And that ring was clearly the same model as the one Julian wore on his ring finger. The next second, on the first page of the diary, I saw a divorce agreement neatly tucked inside. Party A’s name was Julian Smith. And following Party B was my name. 0

I stared blankly at that divorce agreement. The enormous shock hit me. At this moment, I seemed unable to even feel the bone-deep pain in my head. I read through it word by word. “One daughter born during marriage, Mia Smith, custody to go to Mr. Julian Smith.” “The two parties, due to irreparable breakdown of their relationship and inability to continue living together, are filing for divorce.” Below, Julian’s name was already signed, but my side was still blank. I frowned and opened my diary. This diary had been written in for a long time. Only a thin half remained blank. But in the filled portions, there were often water stains, blurring my handwriting into ugly ink blotches. Clearly only half a book of content, yet it seemed to hold all the tears of the first half of my life. I saw what I had written about the joy of being confessed to by Julian after that mudslide. I wrote about the surprise of being proposed to. I wrote about Harmony, as my bridesmaid at my wedding, crying uncontrollably. Later, perhaps because discovering infidelity always follows the same pattern. I wrote about Julian never coming home at night. I wrote about the unfamiliar perfume smell on him, and about the photos of him with Harmony on her social media. And just when I was first considering divorce, I discovered I was pregnant. During those nights when my pregnancy symptoms were extremely severe, I held my father’s pen, waiting night after night for Julian to come home. Later, Mia was born. I wrote about holding her as she slept, begging Julian not to leave, begging him to think about our childhood friendship. Looking at those words with edges frayed by tears, I only felt it was absurd. With only twenty-two years of memories, I didn’t know why my future self would humble herself so much for a man. And on the day I inexplicably rolled down the stairs, I had actually already decided to divorce Julian. It was just that everything had been put on pause because of that accident. The aroma of food drifted in through the crack in the door. I closed the diary and looked at the dim yellow light bulb overhead. I gently pressed my chest. “Good thing I’m back to being the fearless Snow Miller from her twenties.” I settled into living in this house. On one hand, because after losing my memory, I really did need time to adapt to current society. On the other hand, I felt there were still many places in this divorce agreement that could be adjusted. Julian had cheated during our marriage. Leaving with nothing was what he deserved. And I needed time to collect evidence. I lived in this house like a silent shadow. Only Mrs. Davis, who came daily to cook, was willing to say more than a few words to me. But she too was always careful not to mention Julian and Harmony. After I moved in, my first major conflict with them occurred on the day I was supposed to go to the hospital to have my cast removed. That day was also the parent open house at Mia’s elementary school. Mia, who had never shown me a kind face, knocked on my door for the first time the night before, twisting her clothes nervously. “Take me to school tomorrow.” Her tone was stiff, nothing like the innocence and coquettishness she showed when talking to Julian and Harmony. “No.” I looked down at the bank statements my lawyer had obtained for Julian’s accounts, my tone flat. “Don’t you want Harmony to be your mom?” “Let her take you.” But Mia suddenly burst into earth-shattering wails. “I don’t want to!” “They all say Harmony is a homewrecker!” “They say I’m the daughter of a homewrecker!” “Now no kids want to play with me anymore!” “It’s all your fault!” Mia rushed into my room and slammed hard into my injured arm. “If you hadn’t taken Harmony’s place, I’d still have friends!” I gasped from the sudden intense pain. The next second, I raised my hand and slapped her across the face. “Get out.”

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Everyone at the corporation envied me — from a lowly janitor to the wife of the Vice President. My husband doted on me. I never had to lift a finger. But no one knew that in private, he would have people bind my legs with rope. When he saw the bloody marks on my legs, his expression would soften as he stroked my face. “Honey, when you look so fragile, you’re most like her.” I applied medicine to my leg wounds, having learned to ignore Ethan’s insane ramblings. We’d been married for three years. I’d grown accustomed to this side of him, and I’d suffered enough from resisting. In name, I was his legally wedded wife. In reality, I was nothing more than a substitute for his dream girl. But what did it matter? I was originally just a janitor in the corporation building. I had no choice, and I couldn’t escape his villa. Whatever Ethan wanted from me, I could only comply. He leaned against the wall, a smile still playing at his lips. “Honey, walk for me. Let me see.” My hand paused while applying the medicine. Without much hesitation, I got out of bed efficiently and walked barefoot across the cold floor. I tried to walk lightly, slowly. I arched my feet too hard, tearing open the wounds I’d just treated. Blood trickled down from my ankles, staining the floor tiles red. But he seemed oblivious, only closing his eyes slightly, as if already asleep. He didn’t say stop, so I didn’t dare stop. The wounds hurt terribly. I lost focus for a moment and stepped down a bit harder. My footsteps became clearly audible. In the silent room, my heart pounded as I prayed Ethan had truly fallen asleep. But he hadn’t. He simply opened those eyes like spring water and dropped all pretense of a smile. He stared at me coldly. “Walk.” After speaking, he tossed over a hemp rope covered in bloodstains. I said nothing, quietly tying the rope around my ankles. The coarse rope pressed against the still-bleeding wounds. Between my two feet, only the width of a fist remained. With each step, the rope ground into my raw flesh. Forcing me to be even more careful, to take even more delicate steps. I walked like this until my skin split and flesh tore. Blood stained the hem of my dress, sticky and sickeningly sweet. Ethan frowned. He finally found it boring. Having apparently seen enough of me, he brushed past me and went to his study alone. I collapsed to the floor, hands trembling as I tried to untie the rope. But the maid outside looked at me with the same expression as Ethan. “Mrs. Harrington, Mr. Harrington didn’t say you could stop.” I bit my lip and used the table beside me to support myself as I stumbled to my feet. Looking at the coldness and contempt in the maid’s eyes, I lowered my gaze. “I understand.” I walked on the cold floor, from when the moon hung in the west until dawn broke. It wasn’t until Ethan finished breakfast that he leisurely wiped his hands. “My dear, you’ve worked hard. At tonight’s corporate gala, you’d better put on a good show.” My feet were ice cold. After walking all night, my legs trembled. But I could only act like a puppet, dressed up and sent to the car to play the role of a loving wife alongside Ethan. When getting out of the car, having eaten and drunk nothing with my legs aching and sore, my feet were so weak I nearly fell. Ethan wrapped his arm around my waist and lifted me down. Cheney, the gala host, covered her mouth and took me from his arms. She teased with a laugh. “Mr. Harrington really knows how to cherish someone. I should have my husband learn from you.” “The Chairman personally arranged this marriage for you — you’re truly blessed!” I forced a smile at her. Looking back at Ethan, his face showed doting affection, but his eyes held not a trace of genuine feeling. I felt the pain and turned back to look at Cheney. “Yes, my fate is truly excellent.”

I survived in the corporation building until I turned twenty-two, with only three more years until I could be released as a free person. But after the company’s annual gala that year, the Chairman’s personal letter arranged for me to become Ethan’s wife. They said that when I was pouring wine at the gala, Ethan caught a glimpse of me and fell in love at first sight. He desperately pleaded with the Chairman to grant me to him in marriage. Ethan — famous from a young age, rising from a security guard to Vice President of the corporation through his achievements. The man of so many wealthy young ladies’ dreams. Yet he fell for me, an utterly ordinary janitor with no power or influence. What an honor. In the joyous wedding, all my emotions were buried. I was sent from the square corporation building to a square villa. When Ethan lifted my veil, he seemed dazed for a moment. I looked at him, my heart not entirely without hope. We drank champagne together at the wedding banquet. The room was lit with scented candles. He blindfolded me with a silk ribbon. Through the pain, I thought — this would be my life. If he was sincere with me, then so be it. Dazed and confused, I spent my wedding night. The next day, Ethan got up and looked at me with interest. “Like a pear blossom in rain, a beauty clutching her heart — from now on, you’ll be called Elara.” No discussion, no notice. He brazenly changed my name. I looked up at him then, refusing stubbornly. “I’m not Elara. My name is Savannah.” But he seemed not to hear, getting up and leaving on his own. I thought the matter would pass, but when I finished washing up, I found the room locked. I was confined for two days and one night. No matter what I said or did, only one voice came from outside the door. “Is Mrs. Elara requesting to go out?” At first, I could repeat with dignity. “I’m Savannah.” But when I was dying of thirst and retching from hunger, I learned that the wise submit to circumstances. When they asked again outside the door, I clenched my fists. “Yes, I am. Elara.” The door creaked open. Ethan came in holding a bowl of thin broth, gripping my chin and forcing it down my throat. I struggled to swallow. What I couldn’t swallow in time dripped down my chin into my collar, sticky and disgusting. Ethan stroked my hair, smiling with satisfaction. “Honey, how much better if you’d been this obedient from the start.” Back then I thought I’d simply encountered a pervert who loved to torment people. But later, I discovered that Ethan wanted to remake me into someone else. Someone he couldn’t clearly remember. That woman had saved him in his moment of crisis and left before he woke. He only remembered her retreating figure and the coral earrings swaying gently. So that nameless woman became the most perfect woman in his heart. And my silhouette at the annual gala was eighty percent similar to hers. But I found it absurd. I told Ethan seriously. “I’m not her. The person in your heart isn’t her either. You only met her once. You don’t understand her at all. You love only the person you’ve imagined.” Ethan looked at me, his eyes blood-red. He grabbed my wrist viciously and despite my resistance, stripped off my outer clothes. He had the maid push me, wearing only underwear, to crouch in the courtyard. He made all the servants come watch me in my wretched state. That day it snowed heavily. The snow-covered ground was freezing. The snow under my knees melted, then froze into ice. The winter sun was blinding but offered no warmth. Ethan wore a mink coat, holding a hand warmer. “What did you just say?” I bit my lip hard. Ethan smiled contemptuously, extending a warm hand to slap my freezing face. “You’re just a janitor whose fate is worth less than paper. What right do you have to mention her? Being even slightly like her is your good fortune.” Seeing I still wouldn’t speak, his hand moved from my cheek to my neck, then lingered at my collar. His finger lightly hooked the neckline of my underwear. “Admit you’re wrong, or I’ll strip you naked and let you freeze to death. Choose one.” The cold engulfed me. I trembled, my bitten lip bleeding, my spine breaking as I became mud in the snow. “I was wrong.” Who told me to be born humble? Who told me I was powerless? Falling to this state — I was wrong.

At the corporate gala, many wealthy wives looked down on me. They gathered in groups, leaving me isolated to the side. Cheney, who’d been warm earlier, went off to greet others, as if I were an unremarkable weed mixed among famous flowers — an eyesore and pitiable. Only one woman, similarly isolated, was willing to sit beside me. She said she was a widow. I glanced at her, understanding that this gala was essentially a matchmaking event for single men and women — besides the unmarried, there were only couples like Ethan and me there to make appearances. A widow showing up here would inevitably attract gossip about being “restless.” But that was others’ prejudice, which I didn’t share. Starting a new life after losing a husband was perfectly normal. Those society wives and daughters avoided her to prevent being tainted by idle gossip that might affect their social image — pure snobbery and herd mentality. And I, a janitor who married into wealth only through the Chairman’s arrangement, was equally beneath their notice. We were kindred spirits — one outcast needn’t look down on another. We kept each other company until the banquet ended. She walked out with me. Passing through the archway, she smiled at me. I found her face somewhat familiar. Before I could place her, she plucked a flower and tucked it into my hair. “Mrs. Harrington, I’m Vivienne Windsor.” She turned and left. I walked toward Ethan in the distance, forcing a shy smile. But as I approached, I found Ethan distracted, staring blankly in the direction Vivienne had departed. “So similar, too similar.” I turned back, finally realizing where that sense of familiarity came from. She and I shared similar height, build, and features. The difference was that she had an extraordinary bearing — the look of someone with excellent breeding. Ethan and I returned home. He didn’t speak the entire way. As soon as we arrived, he rushed impatiently to his study. The next day, before dawn, he woke me with dark circles under his eyes. He handed me an invitation, his tone casual. “Invite her to visit our home.” I opened the invitation and saw Ethan’s familiar handwriting. It bore the name I’d expected. Vivienne Windsor. I held the invitation, keeping my head down without speaking. Ethan’s gaze fell on me like something tangible. “Honey, you’ll be obedient, won’t you?” I was silent for a moment, then finally nodded. He smiled with satisfaction. His departing footsteps carried anticipation. I stood there lost in thought, wondering if Vivienne could be Ethan’s dream girl. If so, what would he do? Would he marry her? Then what about me? An idea took root in my heart. If Vivienne truly was that savior, Ethan would definitely want to be with her. Then I, the substitute, would become an obstacle. So could I perhaps ask Ethan to divorce me? At this thought, my heart began to race uncontrollably. Vivienne accepted the invitation. I received her as a standard housewife would. While strolling in the courtyard, we ran into Ethan in his suit. He approached through the flowers and willows, impeccably dressed. Standing in the sunlight, light and shadow played across his amorous features. He apologized as if by accident. Vivienne didn’t mind, her gentle eyes meeting Ethan’s. They exchanged pleasantries, gradually walking side by side. The stone path in the garden wasn’t wide. I fell back a step, following behind them with lowered eyes, listening to their conversation. Ethan brought up five years ago, asking if Vivienne had been in the capital that year. Vivienne smiled carelessly. “If Mr. Harrington mentioned other times, I might not remember. But that year I truly can’t forget.” Under Ethan’s expectant gaze, her features like a painting, she spoke calmly. “Five years ago, heavy snow in the capital — it nearly froze quite a few people to death.” Ethan looked as if he’d been punched. He froze in place, staring at Vivienne, unable to speak. I followed behind them, slowly tightening my grip on my handkerchief. Five years ago, Ethan’s family was destroyed, and he became a vagrant. He’d nearly frozen to death in that heavy snow. His eyes reddened, words on his lips but unable to emerge. He could only remove the red coral bracelet from his wrist and press it into Vivienne’s hands. He looked at her as if at a treasure lost and found. “Wait for me! You wait for me! This time, I won’t let you leave again!” He turned and hurried away. Vivienne held the red coral bracelet, turning back to look at me, her face innocent. “What does Mr. Harrington mean by this?”

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I woke up during my ectopic pregnancy surgery. My eyes met My husband Ethan’s. As the lead surgeon, he showed no surprise whatsoever. Instead, he spoke in an utterly calm tone: “Actually, you don’t have infertility issues. Four years ago, I performed a tubal ligation on you. This time, you didn’t have an ectopic pregnancy either. The baby was perfectly healthy, but I’ve already removed it.” A chill ran through my entire body. My eyes turned bloodshot. “Why?” His gaze remained unruffled: “My brother Nathan died in that boat accident. Nathan’s wife, Freya, has had a hard time establishing herself as a widow in the Hayes family. I gave her a child, so I couldn’t give one to you.” “Why tell me this now?” I demanded. Ethan said indifferently, “No particular reason. I’m just tired. I did everything I could to prevent pregnancy, yet you still got pregnant. It was annoying. I didn’t want to keep lying to you, so I deliberately adjusted the anesthesia dosage. Better that you know sooner.” With that, he continued suturing. The sensation of the needle piercing through my skin was unbearably clear. I moaned in pain continuously. He remained unmoved. Only when he finished did he speak leisurely. “The child is getting older and needs a father. I plan to become Freya’s real support. Divorce or maintain the status quo — your choice.” Seeing my tears, he paused briefly. “If you don’t divorce, I’ll take care of Freya from now on. Just don’t give her trouble.”

When I woke up, a dull pain throbbed in my lower abdomen. Only then did I realize that everything that happened in the operating room wasn’t a dream. And from the bed next to mine, increasingly loud moans filled my ears. “Ethan! Stop it, Eva’s still right there.” The only response was an even heavier gasp. That voice was all too familiar. Without a second thought, I ripped the IV needle from my hand. I stumbled out of bed and yanked open the curtain. On the other side, Freya’s clothes hung open at the chest, exposing a large expanse of skin. Ambiguous marks covered her skin. On her collarbone was a tattoo identical to Ethan’s. The woman’s face was flushed, her eyes hazy. The moment she saw me, she suddenly screamed. Frantically, she buried herself in Ethan’s arms. “Eva, don’t misunderstand, let me explain!” Ethan merely glanced at me casually, then leisurely helped Freya button her clothes. “I couldn’t help myself. Don’t blame her.” After his confession to me, Ethan was remarkably composed. He looked at Freya in his arms with utter adoration. Chuckling softly, he said, “Why be shy? We already have a three-year-old child.” Freya shyly pounded on Ethan’s chest again. She hurriedly finished dressing, then rushed over to me. She grabbed my hand. “Eva, listen to me.” I stared at the chaotic scene before me. The air still reeked heavily of sex. Freya’s panties lay at my feet. The exact same style. I clutched my chest as a metallic sweetness surged in my throat. Those were the birthday gift Freya had given me. Back then, she’d sworn confidently that if I wore them for Ethan, he would definitely love them. I’d been half-skeptical at the time, not understanding why Freya seemed more certain of Ethan’s preferences than I, his wife, was. Now I had my answer. One was my husband, the other my best friend. Having sex in front of my hospital bed. My mouth opened and closed. All words stuck in my throat, unable to form any sound. But the tears wouldn’t stop flowing. The moment Freya touched me, I violently shook her hand off. I screamed, “Don’t touch me! Disgusting!” Freya let herself fall to the ground, looking back at Ethan with hurt in her eyes. Then she looked at me and murmured, “Eva, we’ve been friends for so many years. Why won’t you even listen to my explanation? I have my reasons.” Ethan scooped Freya up in his arms, looking at me with cold indifference. But his voice was gentle as he comforted Freya, “Ignore her. You did nothing wrong.” Then he looked at me, completely emotionless. “I already told you everything in the operating room. If you can’t handle it, then divorce me.” With that, he carried Freya and strode out. I grabbed the thermos from the table and hurled it at him. “Ethan Hayes, I won’t divorce you!” I couldn’t help but laugh. “As long as I don’t divorce you, you’ll always be nothing but shameful adulterers!”

The shattering glass shards cut into Ethan’s arm. He acted as if he hadn’t noticed, instead anxiously asking Freya, “Are you hurt?” In that moment, countless images flashed through my mind. In the pouring rain, his umbrella always tilted toward Freya. Walking down the street, he always kept Freya on the inside. Even during a sudden fire, the person he instinctively protected was only Freya. Afterward, it was always just a casual, “She’s Freya, and she’s your good friend for many years.” Every word, every sentence showed that what he did hadn’t crossed any lines. He was just taking care of his widowed sister-in-law on behalf of his dead brother Nathan. Though I had my complaints, I refused to believe my husband could be involved with my best friend. Besides, Freya was the one who’d set me and Ethan up in the first place. Freya and I grew up together. We’d promised each other since childhood that even when we married, we’d marry into the same place and never be apart. So when she got together with Nathan Hayes, she introduced me to Nathan’s twin brother, Ethan. At first, I thought she was joking and kept my distance from Ethan. Until one time when I had a high fever. I called Freya, but Ethan showed up instead. He took care of me all night long. When I woke up, the usually dignified man had dark circles under his eyes. His hair was messy, almost comical. But my heart betrayed me anyway. After Freya got married, Ethan very suddenly proposed to me… A shadow fell across me, pulling me from my memories. Ethan held out a divorce agreement. “Sign it. You can have the house and car. I’ll give you half the assets too.” His hand was still bleeding, but he didn’t care at all. His eyes rested on Freya, who sat in a hospital chair, silently crying. His gaze was tender, gentle to the extreme. My heart clenched violently. It hurt so much I forgot to breathe. Just the night before surgery, he’d held me with that same gaze, that same tenderness, softly reassuring me. He’d said we’d have another baby in the future. But the next day, he tricked me onto the operating table and personally killed our child! I touched my flat stomach, trembling all over. Four years. Because I couldn’t have children, I endured Mrs. Hayes’s contempt and mockery from our social circle. I sought medical treatment everywhere. I drank countless bitter medicines, endured countless needles, all to have just one child. And everything I suffered was a gift from the man I loved most! The metallic sweetness surged in my throat again. I suddenly spat out a mouthful of blood, and everything went black. When I opened my eyes again, I saw Freya bustling around my hospital bed. Seeing me wake up, she rushed forward excitedly. “Eva, you’re awake?” She immediately ladled me a bowl of beef stew. “It’s good for your health. Drink up.” My fingers clutched the bedsheet tightly. My eyes grew hot and my vision instantly blurred. I couldn’t understand why, after sleeping with my husband just moments ago, she could act like nothing had happened. Chattering away as she brought the soup to my lips. “I let it cool. Drink up.” I lifted my head, unable to bear it any longer. I knocked the bowl away. “Get out!” The next second, a slap landed on my face.

My ears rang. Only when I tasted the metallic sweetness at the corner of my mouth did I realize what had happened. I stared blankly at the man before me. He was holding Freya’s hand, carefully inspecting it. When he looked at me, his eyes were full of disgust, as if looking at an enemy. “Do you know how much she cares about you? She spent four hours making that soup for you. Eva Carter, she’s your best friend.” I cried and laughed at the same time, pointing at both their faces. “Cares about me? Cares enough to sleep with my husband? That’s a best friend? That’s a shameless homewrecker!” Ethan said coldly, “You’ve got it backwards. Freya was the one who consummated the marriage with me on our wedding night. Based on the actual order of sexual relations, you’re the third party.” My mind went blank. I thought I’d misheard. I murmured, “What did you say?” Ethan continued unhurriedly, “I said Freya and I had sex on our wedding night. Annie was conceived then.” My soul felt stripped away. My memory returned to that wedding night. I nervously changed into the nightgown he liked, but he threw a blanket over me. Coldly saying, “Nathan just died. Don’t provoke Freya.” Then he left without looking back. At dawn, Mrs. Hayes discovered we hadn’t consummated the marriage. Her mental state was extremely unstable from losing her eldest son. She subjected me to family punishment for failing to continue the Hayes bloodline and not fulfilling my duty as a daughter-in-law. One hundred lashes fell solidly on my body. During that time, I called Ethan countless times. Every call went to a mechanical voicemail. So on my wedding night, while I was being beaten bloody, he was with my best friend, his Freya. Making love. Suddenly, a mouthful of blood spilled from my mouth. I covered my mouth, staring at the red in my palm. Somewhat dazed. Seeing this, Freya quickly pushed Ethan. “Stop talking!” Then she rushed forward to check on me. “Eva, are you okay? I’m sorry. On your wedding night, I missed Nathan so much, I —” Before she could finish, I pushed her away. I closed my eyes, steadying myself. Weakly, I said, “Get out.” Freya tried to say something more. I screamed, “Get out!” Ethan put his arm around Freya and left. At the door, he turned to look at me. “Freya’s pregnant again. From now on, I am Nathan Hayes, her husband who miraculously survived. And your husband, Ethan Hayes, went abroad for advanced medical training due to marital problems.” I trembled all over, watching their retreating backs. Proud Ethan was actually willing to live his entire life under someone else’s name for Freya’s sake. I lowered my eyes. Tears fell heavily, soaking the blanket. On my ring finger, I still wore the plain ring he’d made himself. Our names were engraved on it. He’d said this ring would witness our lifetime of happiness. Turns out, it was all an illusion. Ethan moved quickly. In just one day, news that Nathan Hayes had returned alive spread across the internet. And equally viral online was news about me. A wealthy wife abandoned after four years of failing to produce a child, so thoroughly despised by her husband that he’d rather flee the country than live with me. I watched Ethan, assuming his brother’s identity, appear publicly with Freya. He even announced he would make it up to Freya by giving her a wedding of the century, earning countless blessings. I also watched the internet’s overwhelming mockery and ridicule, clamoring for me to get lost. I suddenly smiled. I dialed an unfamiliar number. “Nathan, it’s time you came home.”

On the day I was discharged, Ethan surprisingly came to pick me up. He brought flowers and gifts. “Happy anniversary.” I wasn’t surprised he’d remember that today was our fourth wedding anniversary. After all, this day held “special meaning” for him and Freya too. I finally understood why, whenever we celebrated our wedding anniversary, he always suggested bringing Freya along. I calmly accepted what he handed me, neither arguing nor making a scene. We were harmonious, just like before. The ring on his finger had been replaced with the same style as Freya’s. He’d cut his hair short, truly transforming himself into Nathan Hayes. Ethan opened the passenger door for me. I’d already gotten into the back seat. He paused briefly, his tone gentle. “Sit up front.” As if the man who’d confessed his affair during surgery had never existed. I said flatly, “I’m used to the back seat. Just drive.” Usually when the three of us went out, because Freya got carsick, I voluntarily let her sit in front. And I naturally sat in the back. I was quiet, always silently listening to the two of them chatting and laughing up front. Once I accidentally fell asleep. They completely forgot about me in the back seat. When they got out, they locked me in the car. Afterward, Freya explained that Ethan had called her to help buy flowers to surprise me. She even teased me to cherish Ethan because he was a good man. But I recognized those flowers. I’d personally bought them for Freya’s house when she went on a trip. The car braked, interrupting my memories. Ethan didn’t move, watching me through the rearview mirror. “Today is my wedding with her.” I looked up. Ahead was a banquet hall. The man continued, “She says you’re her only friend. She wants you to be her bridesmaid. Your bridesmaid dress is in the bag. Go change.” I finally understood. His personally coming to pick me up came with a price. I smirked. “You two make me sick.” With that, I moved to get out. But the moment my foot extended out, someone dragged me into a room. Several bodyguards in black stripped off my clothes and roughly changed me into a dress. Ethan followed leisurely behind. “Eva Carter, Freya was so afraid you wouldn’t be her bridesmaid, she cried all night.” I struggled, gritting my teeth. “And you felt sorry for her? So you kidnapped me to witness this incestuous love between you and your sister-in-law?” The next moment, Ethan grabbed my chin forcefully. “Eva Carter, my patience is limited. If you keep making trouble, I don’t mind having Hayes Corporation stop cooperating with your family. I’m sure you know your family’s company hasn’t been doing well these past few years.” My eyes widened. I stopped struggling. He smiled with satisfaction. When Freya saw me, tears immediately filled her eyes. She rushed forward and grabbed my hand. “Eva, I’m so happy you’re willing to come.” I coldly turned my face away. Ethan pulled Freya close, gently saying, “The ceremony’s about to start.” So the two of them, like a real married couple, walked onstage accepting everyone’s blessings. At that moment, my phone rang. Just as I lowered my head to answer it, a woman with graying hair grabbed my hair. “You jinx! My eldest son finally came home, and you drove my youngest son away!” She shouted, “Someone! Hold her down! Bring me my whip! Today I’ll teach you the Hayes family rules in front of everyone using family punishment! You can’t give me a grandson, and you drove my son away. I’ll beat you to death, you useless bitch!” Everyone stepped back. No one dared stop Mrs. Hayes. They all knew her mental state wasn’t stable and feared offending the Hayes family. When the first lash fell on me, I instinctively looked at Ethan. He only pressed his lips together, holding Freya, coldly watching everything. In that moment, the last trace of hope I had for him vanished completely. I struggled desperately, but the bodyguards held me firmly to the ground. No one dared plead on my behalf. In the huge banquet hall, only the crack of the whip remained. And my increasingly weak breathing. I don’t know how long passed. My back was already torn and bloody. Blood stained the white gauze dress. The air reeked of blood. Someone began to quietly intervene. “You can’t keep beating her. She’ll die.” I stared hard at the two people onstage. Meeting my gaze, Ethan frowned, his feet shifting slightly. But at that moment, Freya grabbed Ethan’s hand. She picked up the microphone and announced to everyone, “Mom, there’s another piece of good news today. You’re going to have a grandchild.” Mrs. Hayes stopped abruptly, excited. “Really?” Freya looked at Ethan with deep affection and shyness. “Yes, one month along. When Nathan came home that day, we —” Mrs. Hayes exclaimed with joy repeatedly. Just then, the banquet hall doors suddenly burst open. A tall man wearing a baseball cap walked in. Sneering, “Is that so? How come I don’t know I’m having another child?” When he removed his cap, revealing his face, everyone gasped in shock. Ethan’s face turned ashen, his voice nearly failing. “Nathan?”

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After I died in the study room fire, I opened my eyes again and found myself ten years in the future. I dug out my phone from my backpack and carefully called my brother Ethan: “Ethan, can you come pick me up?” He didn’t answer. On the other end of the line, I could only hear heavy, labored breathing. I couldn’t help but feel afraid: “If you can’t, could you lend me some money? “Ethan?” Ethan, who was in the middle of attempting suicide, stumbled out of the blood-stained bathtub. Through gritted teeth, he said: “I don’t care who you are. Wait for me.” Cold raindrops fell. I held my backpack over my head, waiting anxiously for Ethan. He had always been exceptionally talented since childhood—noble and cold. He was the carefully groomed heir of the Ashford family. But toward me, Ethan never showed a kind face. In his heart, I was the Ashford family’s adopted daughter of unknown origin. Stupid, malicious, and very restless. Not only did I frame the scholarship student he liked, but I also deliberately barged into his room wearing thin pajamas while he was showering. Eighteen-year-old Ethan wrapped himself in a towel, his face terribly dark: “Iris, you’re so shameless!” “Get out!” These were the last two sentences he said to me in my previous life. So when the study room caught fire and I was nearly suffocating from the smoke, using my last breath to call him and apologize, he didn’t answer. Reborn into this life, I wanted to live with a new identity and originally had no intention of contacting him. It’s just that… I didn’t have a single dollar in my backpack. My ID had also been canceled. The person most capable of helping me, and most likely to want me to stay away from the Ashford family, was definitely Ethan. As long as he could lend me some money and help me solve my identity problem, I would definitely turn over a new leaf in this life and be a good person. I promised to stay far away from him. Before long, a Mercedes came speeding through the night. The window rolled down, revealing a mature, handsome face. Twenty-eight-year-old Ethan wore a well-fitted black suit. Compared to his eighteen-year-old self, he had gained a bit more composure and restraint. Only his expression was as indifferent as before. When his gaze casually swept over me, I lowered the backpack that had been covering my face. He suddenly froze. Until I ran over and greeted him through the car window: “Ethan.” He remained in a daze for a long time. Ten years. For Ethan, I had been dead for ten years. During those ten years, countless women dressed themselves up to look like me, trying to climb into his bed. Every single one was verbally humiliated by him. And now, I stood right in front of him. Just as young as the photo on the tombstone. My eyes were clear, and when I looked at him, they carried a familiar timidity. The white pleated skirt and bear backpack I wore were identical to what I had been wearing when he identified my body at the morgue all those years ago. Even the phone I clutched in my hand still bore the cracks from when he had smashed it. “Get in.” His voice trembled slightly.

“Ethan, can you lend me some money? “My ID has been canceled too. Can you help me deal with it? “Ethan?” Ethan was distracted. The car drove very fast, and the streetlights rapidly flickered across his hard profile. I tried to remind him. I was worried he would take me back to the Ashford family. Or do something else, like send me to a research facility or something. “Did it hurt?” Ethan suddenly asked me. “What? “A little…” I tried hard to recall. There were only some blurry fragments in my memory. When I was suffocating from the smoke, I actually felt somewhat relieved. Having grown up in an orphanage, I was used to freedom. After being adopted by Mrs. Ashford, everyone said I was lucky. The Ashford family was the wealthiest in the city, and Mrs. Ashford treated me like her own daughter. Only I knew how suffocating those days were. Mrs. Ashford’s demands on me were extremely high. Learning music, horseback riding, endless tutoring sessions… If I showed the slightest dissatisfaction, what awaited me was the strictest family discipline. Being locked in the basement and made to kneel. Cane strikes on my body left bruises that wouldn’t fade for days. Once, when Ethan discovered the injuries on my arm, he asked me what happened. I quietly told him: “I was punished with family discipline.” Ethan sneered: “Iris, you’re getting better and better at lying. “What family discipline does the Ashford family have? “Mrs. Ashford has always wanted a daughter. She treasures you like a precious gem, and you’re doing well for yourself, completely unmotivated every day!” Ethan didn’t know the Ashford family had such discipline. He also didn’t know that Mrs. Ashford required me to make Ethan fall in love with me. When she learned that the scholarship student Olivia had stolen Ethan’s first kiss, Mrs. Ashford slapped me hard across the face. “Useless! “You can’t even handle a scholarship student. What a waste raising you! “Iris, I’m warning you, the person who marries Ethan must be you!” I looked at Mrs. Ashford in confusion. Until my death, I never understood. Why was I the only one punished with family discipline? Why did I have to be the one to marry Ethan? Ethan was so outstanding that even if it wasn’t Olivia, countless prestigious families would be lining up to arrange marriages with him. Why did it have to be me, an orphan with mediocre qualifications? But I had no choice but to listen to Mrs. Ashford and break up Ethan and Olivia. In the school library, I gave Olivia two million dollars. This was all the money I could access. I handed over the bank card and tried to persuade her gently: “Take the money and study abroad. “The Ashford family will never agree to you being with Ethan.” Olivia took the money, her eyes full of smugness and mockery. “Iris, so you’re in love with your adoptive brother! “Ugh, how disgusting.” My heart ached. She wasn’t wrong. If I were Ethan, I would find myself disgusting too. Olivia immediately turned around and gave the card I had given her to Ethan, crying pitifully: “Ethan, your sister is forcing me to leave. “My mother is seriously ill at home. I can’t be as selfish and cold-blooded as Iris, who doesn’t even look for her biological parents just for money. “Please, stay away from me from now on. I’m really scared…” That day, I naively thought the matter was settled and called Mrs. Ashford, who was on a business trip, from my room. “Mrs. Ashford, can I not marry Ethan?” There was a few seconds of silence on the other end, then came Mrs. Ashford’s cold voice: “Yes. “But you must bear him a child.” I couldn’t help but question her: “Why? “Did you adopt me to make me a child bride for Ethan? “But I don’t want to…” I didn’t want to force someone. I didn’t want to make him hate me. Mrs. Ashford angrily interrupted me: “Shut up! “Do you want to leave the Ashford family and go back to that rundown orphanage?” I fell silent. The Ashford family was very wealthy, but it wasn’t my home. I felt very uncomfortable there. She laughed coldly: “You can leave the Ashford family if you want. After the child is born, you can get lost.” This was the condition. It was also how I would repay the Ashford family’s kindness. I held the phone and thought for a long time. Until Ethan suddenly burst in and smashed my phone. He warned: “Iris, stay away from Olivia!”

I pulled myself out of the memories. Ethan hadn’t immediately agreed to my request. I didn’t know if he was too distracted to hear clearly, or if he was thinking about something else. It was very quiet in the car. Until I heard the sound of dripping water. Strange, why would such a nice car be leaking rain? My gaze swept around questioningly. Finally settling on Ethan’s wrist. On his pale, strong wrist was wrapped a dark-colored tie. At this moment, blood was winding down along the tie, dripping into the car drop by drop. I cried out in shock: “Ethan, you’re hurt?” His expression was too calm. It was also very dark in the car. So much so that I hadn’t noticed until now that his face was pale and he had lost so much blood. “Let’s go to the hospital first, okay? “Ethan! Go to the hospital!” The twenty-eight-year-old man was even more stubborn and difficult to read than his eighteen-year-old self. I couldn’t help but raise my voice a bit. Only then did Ethan slowly lift his eyelids. “Let’s go home first.” I blurted out: “I don’t want to go back to the Ashford family.” He paused for a moment, then quickly said: “To my private residence. Iris, don’t be afraid.” Perhaps I had been dead too long, and all the past barriers and disgust had faded. He actually called me by name in a rare moment, as if trying to comfort me. I thought of something and asked Ethan: “Are you married now? “Is your wife… Olivia?” His expression suddenly darkened. I immediately fell silent. I assumed that Mrs. Ashford didn’t approve of Olivia, so he ultimately couldn’t have his wish. I said nothing more. Ethan took me back to his private residence. It was far from the city center, a very remote old building. There wasn’t even an elevator. The apartment was on the top floor. I climbed up out of breath and discovered there wasn’t even a fingerprint lock. I stood in the dim hallway, very puzzled. After hesitating for a few seconds, I couldn’t help but ask: “Ethan, did you go bankrupt?” He took out his keys and suddenly smiled: “No.”

The door opened. The furnishings inside were very ordinary. There were drops of blood on the floor, winding all the way to the bathroom. I walked into the bathroom and saw that the bathtub water had been stained red with blood. On the floor was a blood-stained razor blade. My mind went completely blank. Ethan wasn’t injured. He was attempting suicide. I couldn’t help but recall the heavy breathing when I called Ethan. At that moment, Ethan was lying in the bathtub with his eyes closed. Just as the blade was about to cut the skin on his hand, his phone suddenly rang. He glanced at it casually and actually forgot to breathe for a moment. The caller ID showed: Iris. Iris, who had been dead for ten years. The only number saved on this phone. The blade slipped away. He hesitantly pressed the answer button. He heard a familiar voice, tinged with timidity: “Ethan.” … I closed my eyes. I couldn’t quite understand. Why would twenty-eight-year-old Ethan, the sole heir of the Ashford family, heaven’s favored son, choose to commit suicide? “Iris, you sleep in my room tonight.” Along with Ethan’s voice came the sound of the second bedroom door being locked. I snapped out of my shock. I turned around and stared at Ethan without saying a word. “Were you just trying to kill yourself? “Why?” I tried to stay calm, but my voice still trembled uncontrollably. Ethan had already treated his wound. His wrist was covered with hemostatic medicine and wrapped in white gauze bandages. His tone softened: “Did I scare you?” Was this about scaring me? I still looked at him in disbelief. “I almost forgot, you’re still an eighteen-year-old girl.” He lifted the corner of his mouth in self-mockery. “Iris, it’s okay. “I didn’t cut an artery. The blood just looks scary. I’ll go clean up the bathroom now. “You go back to the room and sleep first.” He pushed me into the room. “Ethan, throw away the blade.” I was almost begging him. He smiled and touched my head, his fingers lingering in my hair for a moment. “Okay.” The bedroom door closed. This was the second time I entered Ethan’s room. The first time was to complete Mrs. Ashford’s task of bearing his child. Back then, I shamelessly bought thin pajamas and snuck in while he was showering. Ethan came out of the bathroom wrapped in a towel, his hair wet. Seeing me lying on his bed, his eyes were full of undisguised disgust. Later, he had the servants throw out everything I had touched, and even had the floor wiped several times. I didn’t dare sleep in Ethan’s bed. I placed my backpack on the floor, then sat on it and took out my phone to search for news related to Ethan. “Ethan’s company swallows Ashford Group’s business, Ashford Group enters bankruptcy liquidation” The first news article stunned me. Not only did Ethan not inherit the Ashford Group, he actually destroyed it? “Tech mogul Ethan still unmarried, only because he can’t forget his old love” I clicked on it. The accompanying photo was actually of Ethan paying respects at my tombstone. I’d rather believe he wanted to blow up my grave than believe it was about being unable to forget an old love. “Ethan exposed for chaotic private life, illegitimate daughter already attending elite elementary school” The photo captured the little girl’s full face. I couldn’t help but pause. This child didn’t look like Ethan at all. It must be fake news! … My finger slid across the screen. Ethan suddenly walked in. I immediately stood up awkwardly and explained: “Ethan, I didn’t touch your things. “I didn’t dirty the floor either.” His eyes darkened, and he handed me a set of men’s pajamas: “Iris, sleep first.”

I looked at Ethan anxiously: “I’ll sleep in the second bedroom instead.” He refused outright: “No one has lived in the second bedroom. It’s not convenient.” “It’s okay, I can clean it up.” Ethan’s attitude was very firm. “…No.” I didn’t dare provoke eighteen-year-old Ethan, and I dared even less to provoke the twenty-eight-year-old him. What surprised me most was that he was actually willing to let me sleep in his bed, while he made a makeshift bed on the floor beside it. I couldn’t sleep. A small night light was still on in the room. I noticed that the moon-shaped night light was mine. It was very old now. I called out softly: “Ethan.” Ethan looked up at me. I spoke the long-overdue apology: “I’m sorry.” I thought he should know which incident I was referring to. Ethan suddenly sat up. His eyes were very deep, staring straight into mine: “Iris, what were you thinking that day?” I felt somewhat embarrassed. I stammered to explain: “The book said adolescent boys are very restless. I thought you might want to. “And you should have been… your first time. Supposedly it would be quick, so it shouldn’t hurt too much. “That day was also the seventh day after my period ended…” Under Ethan’s gaze, I forced myself to finish the last sentence: “The book said this is the ovulation period.” Ethan fell silent. His eyes grew even darker. After a long while, he turned his face away, his earlobes turning faintly pink. He cleared his throat lightly and said: “I was asking about the day of the study room fire. “You called me. I didn’t answer at the time. “For these ten years, I’ve been thinking that if I had answered, I could have saved you. “Iris, have you ever blamed me?” So he meant that incident. I felt somewhat annoyed and pulled the blanket over my head. In a muffled voice, I replied: “No, Ethan, I couldn’t have run out anyway.” After saying this, I suddenly froze. I couldn’t have run out. Why? It seemed like something had been forgotten by me. I tried hard to remember but couldn’t recall. The next day, I woke to the sound of an argument. My gaze accidentally swept past the window, and I was startled by the scene outside. Outside the window was actually a desolate, lifeless cemetery. I jumped out of bed and ran to the door. I suddenly heard Mrs. Ashford’s angry voice: “Ethan, you ungrateful wretch! “Going to such great lengths to destroy Ashford Group, what exactly do you want?” Ethan laughed mockingly. “You don’t know what I want? “Mrs. Ashford, everyone outside is saying I have an illegitimate daughter. Do you think I knew nothing about what happened back then…” Mrs. Ashford was furious: “Don’t talk to me about that. You’ll owe the Ashford family forever! “If it weren’t for you, Iris wouldn’t have died. You should atone…” Ethan’s expression changed. After seeing me come out, he quickly walked toward me. Mrs. Ashford also turned around. She had aged, looking haggard. She no longer had her former elegance and grace, and her features had become even more harsh. The moment she saw me, Mrs. Ashford cried out. “Iris! “Ethan, is she… Iris?” Mrs. Ashford’s lips trembled, and a tear slid down the corner of her eye. This reminded me of when she came to the orphanage. Among so many pretty and lovely girls, she walked straight toward me, looked at me with disgust, and didn’t even want to hold my hand. She said condescendingly: “Change her name. Call her Iris.” As if she didn’t like me, but had no choice but to choose me. I nervously hid behind Ethan. Ethan raised his eyebrows: “I found a woman who looked similar and had plastic surgery to make her look like Iris to sleep with me. “What’s so shocking about that?” Mrs. Ashford angrily threw her purse at him: “You’re truly insane! “Crazy! Disgusting!”

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During my company’s long holiday, my birth mother insisted on arranging for me to take a budget road trip to Alaska in a broken-down RV with a 50-year-old homeless man named Derek Stone. Derek was balding with terrible breath and looked absolutely greasy. “Aria, this is all to build your resilience and work ethic. Hothouse flowers can’t withstand storms.” “Besides, Derek is experienced. He can protect you along the way. This is a growth opportunity others would beg for!” Under the approving gazes of my relatives, I obediently agreed. Then I turned around and gave this precious ride-share ticket to my pampered sister, who kept going on about wanting to experience “vagabond literature.” Half a month later, my birth mother received a desperate call from the police station. Her eyes rolled back and she collapsed to the floor. “You’re quitting that part-time job tomorrow. You’re going to Alaska with Derek during the holiday.” My mom, Rachel Lane, slammed her fork down on the table, her tone brooking no argument. My hand froze mid-air, gripping my spoon. I instinctively looked up. “Mom, my project bonus just came through. I was planning to use it for Grandma’s surgery fees. I need to stay at the hospital during the break…” “You don’t need to worry about the surgery fees. I’ve already taken care of it for you.” Mom dismissed me casually, then pulled out an elegant Chanel gift box from behind her and pushed it toward my sister, Lydia. “Lydia, see if you like it? Didn’t you say you wanted this shade?” Lydia squealed with delight, tearing open the packaging and rubbing the lambskin bag over and over. “Wow, Mom, you’re the best!” “This bag costs over thirty thousand, right? Where’d you get the money?” My heart lurched violently. I shot to my feet, my voice trembling. “Mom, that’s my project bonus I deposited in the account. That’s Grandma’s life-saving money!” “Smack!” A sharp slap landed across my face, instantly swelling half of it red. Mom pointed at my nose, her face full of disgust. “All you care about is filthy money. That’s your sister’s graduation present!” “Grandma has doctors there. What are you yelling about?” The slap sent my head to the side, and I tasted blood in my mouth. The relatives around us all set down their forks. My uncle spoke up with a meaningful tone. “Aria, you’re in the wrong here. Money is just material possession. Your mother is teaching you about the importance of family.” Just then, the private dining room door was pushed open. A middle-aged man reeking of sour stench, with sparse, greasy hair, walked in. He wore a tattered tank top of indeterminate color, his yellowed teeth on full display. As soon as he entered, his murky eyes shamelessly scanned my chest and thighs. “This must be Aria, huh? What a pretty girl.” The man chuckled darkly and extended his hand—fingernails caked with black grime—directly wiping it across my clean white blouse. “I’m Derek Stone. Aria, Uncle will take real good care of you on this trip.” My stomach churned. I jerked backward. “Mom, you want me to go on a road trip with someone like this? This is a death sentence!” “Outrageous!” Mom slammed her hand on the table so hard the dishes rattled. “Derek is an experienced traveler! He’s been all over—what hasn’t he seen?” “Having you go with him is your good fortune!” “Look at you now. All you know is making money. You have zero resilience for life.” “I’m doing this to build your endurance and work ethic. Hothouse flowers can’t withstand storms.” Lydia sat beside us eating cherries, adding her snide commentary. “Exactly. I’ve always dreamed of that kind of gypsy vagabond lifestyle—so free and romantic.” “Too bad I’m too delicate to go, otherwise this soul-touching opportunity wouldn’t even be your turn.” She continued stroking her new bag as she spoke. Her eyes were full of mockery. Derek leaned closer to me, his intense halitosis assaulting my senses. “Baby, I’ve got grass mats laid out in the back of the RV. We’ll squeeze in together—nice and warm.” The relatives all nodded approvingly, as if I were about to embark on some stairway to heaven. “Aria, listen to your mother. Don’t be ungrateful.” “Right. Young people today are too soft. They need to toughen up at the bottom.” I looked at these hypocritical faces, at Derek’s bone-chilling leer. The last trace of warmth in my heart completely extinguished. I lowered my eyes, concealing the violence churning beneath them. When I looked up again, my face wore an obedient smile. “Fine. I’ll go.”

Mom froze for a moment, then smiled smugly. “See how easy things are when you’re obedient? Derek, she’s all yours. Make sure you take good care of her.” Derek rubbed his hands together, grinning so hard drool nearly spilled out. “Don’t worry. I guarantee she’ll never forget this trip for the rest of her life.” I sneered inwardly. Indeed, someone would remember this trip for the rest of their life. “Aria, make sure you take lots of photos for me to see.” Lydia smiled brightly. I looked at her and replied softly. “Don’t worry, Lydia. Such a good opportunity—I’ll definitely share it with you.” When I got home, Mom tossed me a torn burlap sack. “There are two packs of crackers in there and a sleeping bag. Use them on the road.” I opened the sleeping bag. A pungent moldy smell made me dizzy, and there were even mysterious stains of unknown color on it. “Mom, Alaska drops to below zero at night. This sleeping bag has holes—it’ll freeze someone to death.” “Freeze to death?” Mom was stuffing expensive beach dresses into Lydia’s suitcase without even looking back as she scolded me. “Derek brought thick blankets. Can’t you squeeze in with him? Why do you have to be so delicate!” She turned around and stuffed a thick wad of cash into Lydia’s hands—at least fifty thousand by my estimate. “Lydia, when you go to Hawaii with your friends, buy whatever you want. Don’t deprive yourself.” “I already bought you imported sunscreen for there.” Lydia hugged Mom’s arm and whined. “Mom, you’re so biased. Aria gets to go cleanse her soul in Alaska, and you give me all this money. What if she gets jealous?” Mom snorted coldly. “She’s going to atone for her karma. What does she need money for? If she were half as sensible as you, I wouldn’t have to work so hard making these arrangements.” I stood in the shadows, watching this mother-daughter bonding scene, my nails digging deep into my palms. At midnight, I was awakened by suppressed voices. On the balcony, Mom was speaking in a lowered voice on the phone, her tone carrying a humility and ruthlessness I’d never heard before. “Derek, I’ve placated her. Pick her up at dawn during the holiday.” I don’t know what the person on the other end said, but Mom’s voice trembled, then turned firm. “I know. That incident must stay buried.” “The person is yours to handle however you want. Whether she lives or dies, she’s your goods. As long as that secret never comes to light, I don’t even want the thirty thousand. Consider it your service fee.” Leaning against the door, my whole body turned cold. Goods? Secret? So this wasn’t some road trip at all—it was a dirty transaction. I didn’t make a sound, just bit my lip hard. I’d always known Mom hated me. Ever since I was five years old, when Dad died in a car accident on his way to pick me up from school, I became the jinx she cursed. She took all her resentment out on me. Kneeling punishments and hunger were routine. She cursed me with the most vicious words. I always thought she just resented me for taking away her happiness. But I never imagined she actually wanted me dead. Even a vicious tiger doesn’t eat its cubs. Mom, if that’s how it is, don’t blame me.

Early the next morning, I deliberately sat in the living room, flipping through a book while sighing dramatically. Lydia walked by wearing an expensive facial mask, glancing at me sideways. “Aria, you’re about to go suffer, and you still have the mood to read?” “Lydia, you don’t understand.” I deliberately put on a yearning expression. “I used to think it would be hard too, but last night I looked up information and discovered that people like Derek are actually hidden masters.” Lydia frowned. “That balding, bad-breath homeless guy? A master?” “Yes! Look at these photos.” I opened my phone and showed her several carefully selected, heavily filtered photos of Alaska from online. Lone pilgrims, and silhouettes of beggars packaged as wandering poets. “Derek has transcended worldly concerns. The routes he takes are all wilderness areas where you can see the purest starry skies. This kind of soul-shaking experience, you couldn’t buy for millions in big cities.” I deliberately lowered my voice and leaned in mysteriously. “I heard these wandering ascetics have quite a few Alaska antiques and treasures—the savings from decades of wandering.” “Such a shame. A vulgar person like me only thinks about overtime pay. For someone like me to go to such a place would be a complete waste.” Lydia’s eyes lit up. That kind of untested arrogance and pathological longing for niche aesthetics was instantly ignited. “Aria, are you saying Derek is actually rich? And this trip is actually high-end?” “More than high-end—it’s an admission ticket for spiritual aristocrats.” I closed the book with feigned regret. “If you could go, with your temperament, you’d definitely write a bestselling vagabond literature book.” Lydia bit her lip, her eyes flashing wildly. “Aria, how about… we switch?” My heart pounded, but my face showed panic. “No way! Mom will kill me. She said this was a special blessing meant for me!” “I’ll talk to Mom!” Lydia snatched the book from my hands. “Someone as money-obsessed as you really doesn’t deserve to go to Alaska.” I watched her determined expression and said silently: Dear sister, you’re opening the gates of hell yourself. “Just don’t tell Mom I encouraged you, or I can’t take the responsibility.” “I know, look how timid you are. Go to your overtime work!” Lydia strutted back to her room and even began searching for her most worn-out yet decadently beautiful clothes. I stood at the end of the hallway, looking at the gloomy sky outside, feeling the air was fresh for the first time. The day before departure, my mom Rachel called me into her room. “Aria, this is the budget travel liability waiver the tourism bureau requires. Sign it so Derek doesn’t have to worry along the way.” She handed me a stack of densely worded contracts, urging me to sign quickly. I pretended not to understand the complicated clauses, but as I flipped pages, my fingertips keenly caught a line of hidden small print at the bottom. This wasn’t any liability waiver at all. It was an accidental death and disappearance insurance policy worth eight hundred thousand dollars! The beneficiary column clearly read: Rachel Lane.

At that moment, I felt all the blood in my body freeze. My birth mother not only wanted to sell me to a vagrant to settle a debt, but she also wanted to drain every last penny of value from my life after selling me. She wanted me to die in that desolate wilderness. “What are you looking at? Sign it quickly! Derek is still waiting outside for the receipt!” Rachel impatiently slapped the table, her tone vicious. I took a deep breath and showed a miserable smile. “Okay. I’ll sign.” I wrote my name stroke by stroke. Rachel snatched the contract away, a flash of wild joy in her eyes, then immediately locked it in a drawer. That evening, Lydia snuck into my room, her tone imperious. “I’ve prepared everything. I’ll go in your place at dawn tomorrow.” “Remember, you need to hide at a friend’s place for the next two weeks. Don’t let Mom find out. When I come back, I’ll be the goddess who cleansed her soul.” I looked at that face written with greed and stupidity, pretending concern as I grabbed her hand. “Lydia, it’s really hard out there, and Derek has a bad temper. You can still change your mind.” “Change my mind? I think you just can’t bear to part with those antique treasures!” Lydia shook off my hand and snorted coldly. “Mom said Derek is cold on the outside but warm inside, and very knowledgeable.” “I even prepared a basic phone. Mom said for complete immersive wandering, I can’t bring a smartphone or GPS. Aria, just wait and watch me become famous!” I sneered inwardly. To prevent me from calling the police for help, Rachel would make up any excuse. “Fine. Take this burlap sack and don’t blow your cover.” At three in the morning, the sky was dark as ink. Rachel was clanking around in the kitchen making noodles. Lydia wrapped herself up tightly, wearing a thick mask and wide-brimmed hat, carrying that worn burlap sack. “Derek, take her away. If this child throws a tantrum on the road, discipline her as you see fit.” Rachel lowered her voice. Her tone held no reluctance whatsoever—instead, it carried the relief of shedding a burden. Derek’s nauseating voice sounded outside the door. “Hehe, Ms. Lane, just wait for good news.” I hid behind the second-floor curtains, watching Derek roughly shove Lydia. Lydia clearly hadn’t realized the danger yet. She even turned and waved toward the window, thinking she was heading toward poetry and distant places. Derek stuffed her into the back bed of that dilapidated RV. It was a cargo area welded shut with wire mesh, like a mobile cage. “Click”—the rusty padlock was locked. The broken RV emitted a harsh roar and disappeared into the thick fog. I stood in the darkness, watching that broken taillight completely extinguish. “Lydia, don’t blame me. This is the growth opportunity you begged for yourself.” I whispered to the empty room. Just then, Rachel’s relieved sigh came from the living room. “Finally got rid of that jinx. Lydia, Mom’s counting on you for the rest of my life.” I coldly curled my lips. My dear mother, the Lydia you’re counting on is now sitting in the express train to hell. I opened my phone and called Grandma’s attending physician. “Doctor, I’ve gathered the surgery fees. I’ll pay first thing tomorrow morning. Please arrange the surgery as soon as possible.” Mom, since you want to play, I’ll play with you to the end. When the first rays of morning sunlight entered the living room, Rachel was happily drinking soy milk. She saw me walking down the stairs. The cup in her hand crashed to the floor with a clang, milk splashing everywhere. “You… why are you here?”

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The housekeeper Levitt’s daughter Lavinia stays at my place every weekend during school breaks. Out of respect for her mother’s years of service to my family, I never said anything. Until one day I came home to find the door code had been changed, with a note stuck on the door: “Freeloaders who mooch off other people’s homes are forbidden entry.” I tore down the note and knocked on the door, asking Levitt: “What’s this about?” Lavinia sat on the sofa with her legs crossed, saying: “Can’t you read? Living in my house every day—have you no shame? If you have nowhere to live, go sleep on the streets. I hate freeloaders like you the most!” I looked at her in confusion. Levitt immediately came forward to explain in a low voice: “Miss Alice, I’m sorry. My daughter doesn’t know I’m a housekeeper. She’s been spoiled and doesn’t like living with outsiders.” “By the way, don’t you have another house in the suburbs? When my daughter comes to stay on weekends, you can go live in the suburban house.” With that, Levitt shut the door right in my face. Standing outside, I calmly dialed the police: “Hello, someone has illegally entered and occupied my house. Please come as soon as possible.”

I never imagined that as the daughter of the wealthiest person in the city, I would be called a freeloader to my face. The key point being—this villa was mine. Twenty minutes after calling the police, a patrol car pulled up in front of my villa. The two officers had just gotten out and hadn’t even asked about the illegal entry situation when Levitt frantically opened the door. She rushed over to me, her face pale: “Miss Alice, what’s going on? Why did you call the police?” I glanced at her without speaking. The officer looked her up and down and asked: “Are you the person Miss Alice mentioned—the one who illegally entered and occupied her house?” Hearing this, Levitt panicked instantly: “No, no, officers, this is all a misunderstanding.” “I’m Miss Alice’s housekeeper, responsible for taking care of her daily needs.” “My daughter’s school is on break, so she came to stay for a couple days. The door lock just broke, and when we had someone fix it, they changed the code. There’s no occupation of the house.” She pointed at the villa door and smiled apologetically: “Look, I opened the door right away, didn’t I?” The officer looked at me, then at her, and asked: “Miss Alice, do you still want to pursue this?” I was about to speak when Levitt suddenly lowered her voice, pleading humbly in my ear: “Miss Alice, Lavinia’s father died young. I’ve raised her alone—it hasn’t been easy. She just started college, when vanity is strongest, and having lacked affection since childhood, her personality is a bit extreme. If she finds out I’m just a housekeeper, she definitely won’t be able to accept it.” “I did this just to make her feel better.” “Please, for the sake of the twelve years I’ve served your parents, forgive me this once.” Hearing Levitt mention my parents, my heart did soften a bit. Levitt had been with my family for twelve years. My mother’s health was poor before she died, and Levitt was the one who personally cared for her, serving tea, attending to every detail. The day my mother passed, Levitt cried harder than anyone, kneeling by the hospital bed holding my mother’s hand, saying she would definitely take care of me. After that, she did exactly that. After my mother died, she kept the house in perfect order and looked after me like her own daughter. Whenever I tried to give her tips in the past, she would always decline repeatedly before accepting. Three months ago, her daughter Lavinia got into the same university as me. Levitt was both happy and worried. She was glad Lavinia was doing well, but stressed that university tuition was too expensive for her to afford. Understanding how hard it was for her to raise a child alone, I offered to cover Lavinia’s four years of university tuition. Levitt was so moved she cried. She clutched my hand, thanking me over and over, saying she would definitely repay my kindness. But starting last month, things changed. That day I came home and suddenly saw Lavinia at my house. I looked confused, but Levitt pulled me aside to quietly explain: “Miss Alice, Lavinia has nowhere to go on weekends during break. I haven’t seen her in so long, so I let her stay for a couple days.” I nodded without saying anything. The house had plenty of rooms anyway. Letting the mother and daughter reunite wasn’t a big deal. But later, I gradually noticed something was wrong.

The so-called “couple days” turned into a fixed arrangement every single weekend. Every Friday night, Lavinia would show up at my house right on schedule and only leave Monday morning. At first, Lavinia just liked taking photos in the living room and posting on Twitter to show off to her classmates that she lived in a big house. I could understand that—everyone wants to look glamorous in front of others. But what I couldn’t understand was how Lavinia always looked at me with disgust and disdain, as if I owed her millions. Several times, when I was sitting on the sofa watching TV, she deliberately covered her nose and complained loudly: “So annoying! How can such a luxurious villa have this constant stench of poverty?” I thought she genuinely smelled something odd, so I specifically asked Levitt to give the house a thorough cleaning. But Lavinia only got more exaggerated—either spraying disinfectant everywhere I sat, or putting disposable covers on the sofa for me to sit on. A few times I even saw her throw things I’d used straight into the trash. When I questioned her, Levitt would always sheepishly explain in private: “Lavinia is just worried those things aren’t clean and might affect your hygiene and safety, so she’s being extra careful.” I didn’t think much of it. After all, besides attending classes, I had to handle various company matters large and small. I was swamped every day and didn’t have the energy to argue with her over these things. Until this afternoon, when I saw that note on the door, it finally dawned on me. Lavinia thought I was living in her house. Originally I planned to teach Levitt and Lavinia a lesson. But now, Levitt kept pleading with me: “Miss Alice, I promise there won’t be a next time.” “I’ll explain the situation to Lavinia today and won’t let her come stay anymore.” “Please, for the sake of all the years I’ve served your parents, forgive me this once.” Seeing Levitt’s humble expression, I sighed: “Fine.” “I won’t pursue it.” After the officers left, Levitt let out a huge sigh of relief, thanking me repeatedly with an excellent attitude. After that day, Lavinia indeed never came to my house again. Levitt remained as diligent as ever, keeping the house spotlessly clean. The only thing she didn’t do well was that things kept going missing from the house. Today a bottle of wine, tomorrow a set of dishes, the day after a set of expensive clothes. Every time I asked, Levitt had excuses and reasons: “Miss Alice, I’m so sorry. I accidentally broke that bottle of wine while cleaning.” “Miss Alice, that set of dishes was used for too long. When I was washing them I noticed cracks and worried they might cut you, so I threw them away.” “Miss Alice, I took those clothes to the dry cleaner and they lost them.” Although the reasons sounded far-fetched each time, given her decent attitude, I didn’t make a big deal of it. I thought that was the end of it. Until that day, after paying respects to my parents, I decided to go thoroughly clean their suburban villa where they’d lived for half their lives. That was my parents’ favorite place. The yard was filled with my mother’s most beloved flowers, and the house was full of souvenirs my father had brought back from around the world. Before my mother died, she held my hand and said that house was her and my father’s life’s work, telling me to take good care of it. I treasured that villa deeply. Even though I was afraid of the painful memories and moved out to live alone, I would still personally go clean it regularly, carefully wiping every piece of furniture and trimming the flowers in the yard. But this time, when I arrived at the villa entrance, I froze. The villa’s gate, which was always kept closed, was wide open. From inside the villa came faint sounds of deafening music and noisy laughter. I immediately went forward and pushed open the half-closed door. After seeing what was inside, I was completely stunned.

The villa living room was a complete mess. Empty bottles, snack bags, fruit peels, and cigarette butts were scattered all over the coffee table, sofa, and floor. The genuine leather sofa worth hundreds of thousands had cigarette burn holes all over it. My mother’s beloved Persian rug was covered in footprints and several wine stains. The souvenirs hanging on the walls—some had been taken down to use as photo props, others were smashed and thrown in corners. Seeing this scene, I instantly clenched my fists. This villa was where my parents had lived for half their lives. Every piece of furniture, every decoration inside was carefully chosen by them. I was always so careful when walking around, afraid of bumping into anything, yet now it had been ruined beyond recognition. I scanned the room and found Lavinia sitting on the sofa directly facing the door. Around her were college classmates from our class: “Lavinia, your family is so rich! Even a random suburban villa is this luxurious.” “Right? I just looked it up—any random painting on this wall is worth millions!” “Oh my god, your mom is so powerful. She truly deserves to be the billionaire female CEO!” “For the sake of being classmates, after you graduate and inherit the family business, can you let us work at your company?” Lavinia’s lips curled up high from the praise: “No problem. Stick with me and you’ll never lack money.” Hearing this, the classmates were thrilled, frantically flattering Lavinia. Just then, Lavinia saw me standing at the door. Her smile vanished as she walked over arrogantly. Slap! Without a word, she viciously struck my face: “You bitch, you even followed me here?” The sudden slap left me stunned in place. The classmates present all widened their eyes: “Lavinia, what’s going on?” Lavinia pointed at me with utter contempt and disgust: “This Alice is the freeloader I just told you about!” “Living in my city house isn’t enough—now she wants to stay in the villa my mom specially bought for me!” I looked at Lavinia in disbelief: “Who told you this is a house your mom bought you?” Lavinia sneered: “My mom told me herself, of course.” “You bitch, you’re just after my mom because she’s a company CEO, so you live at my house every day trying to get her attention, aren’t you?” “Living at my house and deliberately creating opportunities to be alone with my mom isn’t enough—now you want to defile my villa too?” “Let me tell you, my mom said she lets you live at my house because you’re a pitiful orphan and she kindly took you in. Don’t even think about taking my place!” So this is what Levitt told Lavinia? No wonder Lavinia treated me so badly before. In her understanding, Levitt was the CEO who lived in a villa. And I was the poor orphan Levitt took in? So Lavinia always believed I was living in her house and trying to steal her position as the only daughter. How absurd! As Lavinia spoke, she turned to shout at the classmates: “Do you know how shameless Alice is?” “She stays at my house every day and won’t leave no matter what.” “I specifically put up a note telling her not to live in my house anymore, but she got so angry she called the police claiming my mom was bullying her.” “My mom was worried she’d make a scene that would damage the company’s reputation, so she made peace and bought me this separate villa to live in.” “Sometimes I really don’t understand—I’m my mom’s biological daughter, a legitimate heiress, and I often stay on campus. But she, a poor orphan, stays at my house all day long, acting like it’s her own home. Now if I want to wear my own clothes or drink my favorite wine, my mom has to secretly bring them from the city villa, just to avoid her saying we’re bullying her.” “I’ve never seen such a shameless bitch in my life!” My eyes widened. No wonder things kept disappearing from my villa recently—Levitt had been secretly taking them for Lavinia to use? What a Levitt. Since you’re treating me like a fool, don’t blame me for being ruthless!

I immediately took out my phone and called the legal department: “Come to my parents’ suburban villa right away with your people…” Before I could finish, Lavinia snatched my phone and smashed it hard on the ground: “You bitch, why are you so good at acting?” “‘Your parents’ villa’? This is the fucking villa my mom bought for me!” The classmates also hurled contemptuous insults at me: “No wonder everyone stays on campus but she’s always making excuses not to. I thought she was busy with important stuff, turns out she was being a parasite at Lavinia’s house, stealing someone else’s mom. Disgusting.” “Exactly. Her own parents died, so she goes looking for other people’s rich parents. If her parents knew how shameless she is, they’d probably come back to life from anger.” “Some people are just that low. The moment they see rich people, they do everything to get attention, trying to climb their way to success through a benefactor.” “Lavinia, you’re still too nice. If someone tried to steal my parents, I’d tear them apart!” I ignored everyone’s mockery and looked at Lavinia, saying sternly: “I advise you to call your mother and ask her properly whose villa this actually is.” Hearing this, Lavinia’s expression darkened. She immediately grabbed my collar: “You bitch, don’t think I don’t know—you’re just taking advantage of my mom’s soft heart, trying to trick her again to benefit yourself!” Suddenly, she looked at my neck, her eyes lighting up: “That jade necklace looks expensive. Did you trick my mom into buying it for you too?” With that, she yanked hard, viciously tearing the necklace from my neck. Lavinia’s movement was so fast and fierce I couldn’t react—the necklace was in her hand. Seeing this, my face changed drastically: “Give the necklace back!” Seeing my sudden panic, Lavinia looked at me with vicious eyes: “So nervous? Looks like this necklace cost my mom quite a bit, huh?” I panicked and quickly said: “It was from my mother. It’s not valuable, but it’s very important to me. Give it back.” I reached out to grab it. This jade necklace was a protective charm my mother obtained for me with her life. I was sickly as a child. At ten years old, I was critically ill and comatose in the hospital. The doctors told my parents to prepare for the worst. My mother couldn’t accept it and went to a temple to pray for me. To show sincerity, on a sweltering summer day with temperatures over 100 degrees, she prostrated herself step by step from the foot of the mountain to the summit. She kowtowed until her knees were bloody, exposing white bone, banging her head until it bled and she became delirious, finally obtaining this jade necklace. Perhaps even heaven was moved by my mother. I, who had been comatose, miraculously woke up, but my mother fell gravely ill as a result. Before dying, my mother placed the necklace in my hand, instructing me to keep it safe. I treasured this necklace immensely and carried it with me from childhood. It was something my mother traded her life for, and my forbidden treasure. I absolutely would not allow anyone to damage it! “The more you want it, the more I want to destroy it.” Before I could touch it, Lavinia threw the necklace hard on the ground. Accompanied by a crisp sound, the necklace shattered into pieces. Fragments scattered everywhere. “No!” Watching the jade necklace my mother traded her life for break like this, my heart felt like it was being cut by knives. I couldn’t breathe. “You bastard!” Unable to bear it any longer, I slapped Lavinia across the face. “You bitch, how dare you hit me?” Lavinia covered her face and shrieked: “Teach this bitch a lesson!” “Whoever does the best job gets a million dollars from my mom!” Hearing this, the classmates’ eyes lit up as they punched and kicked me. “How dare you hit Lavinia? Her mom is the richest person in our city—who do you think you are?” “Exactly. What kind of necklace could a poor person like you afford? That was obviously something you conned from Lavinia’s mom. She’s destroying her own property—why are you so worked up?” “Shameless bitch. Not only do you steal someone else’s mom, but you dare hit Lavinia. You’re asking for it.” “How dare you mention your own mother. Your parents deserved to die early for raising a shameless bitch like you!” I was beaten to the ground, trembling with rage, and said through gritted teeth: “You’ll regret this!” Hearing this, everyone present burst into laughter as if they’d heard the biggest joke. “Hilarious! Lavinia’s mom is the richest woman in the city. What are you to make us regret anything?” “Exactly. You’re at most a lowly orphan who lives in other people’s houses. You already depend on finding parents everywhere to survive, and you dare threaten us?” “A bottom-tier poor person without even her own house can only rage impotently like this.” Those people held me down on the ground, mocking and humiliating me without restraint. Lavinia, supported by the crowd, grabbed my hair and said arrogantly: “Regret? I’ve never regretted anything in my life. I’ll just wait and see how a poor person like you can make me regret it!” As soon as she finished speaking, luxury cars sped over and stopped at the villa entrance…

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “383066”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster

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