I only learned the truth after I died. My prestigious parents never wanted me back. My husband’s love was a lie. But they were bound to a system: win my affection, or die. The moment the fake heiress pushed me down the stairs, the sting of my husband’s cold indifference and her triumphant smirk was a special kind of hell. They threw a party to celebrate my death. Then I opened my eyes again. It was the day they came to take me “home.” 1 Mr. and Mrs. Sinclair stood at the door to greet me, their precious daughter Isabelle between them. The second she saw me, Mrs. Sinclair’s face lit up with a brilliant smile. “Rose, welcome home!” Last time, I was so lost in the joy of finding my family that I never saw the lie coiled behind her smile. Isabelle rushed forward and grabbed my hand. “This is wonderful! I’ve always wanted a sister, and now my dream has come true!” My new parents beamed at her, their eyes overflowing with an adoration they couldn’t hide. They had no idea that I could now hear the voice of the system in their heads. [Warning, Host: The target has appeared!] [Mission: Raise the target’s Affection Score to 100 to complete the task. Upon completion, you will receive your reward and be unbound from the system.] [If the target’s Affection Score drops into the negative, an electrocution punishment will be administered every hour.] [If the target’s Affection Score reaches -100, the mission is a failure. Annihilation will be immediate.] In my last life, they used this system to climb the social ladder, stepping over my corpse to become titans of the city’s elite. This time, I wouldn’t make it so easy for them. I ripped my hand out of Isabelle’s grasp and snarled, “Who the hell are you to call yourself my sister?” “If your mother hadn’t stolen me from my crib and swapped us, I would never have been separated from my parents. You’re a thief who stole my life, so how dare you stand here with that smile on your face!” Isabelle’s eyes instantly welled with tears. She stared at me, speechless and pathetic. Mrs. Sinclair couldn’t bear to see her darling suffer. She pulled Isabelle into a protective hug and shot me a reproachful look. “Rose, is that any way to speak to your sister? Isabelle was just a baby back then. She’s innocent in all of this.” I met her gaze with cold calm. [Target’s Affection Score: -10. Current Score: -10. Initiating electrocution punishment.] I saw her body give a slight, sharp jolt. She immediately let go of Isabelle and forced a placating smile. “Rose, dear, that’s not what I meant. I just hope you can give Isabelle a chance. After all, we’ve raised her for eighteen years.” Mr. Sinclair stepped in to play peacemaker. “Alright, alright, let’s not just stand here in the doorway. Rose, it’s your first day home. How about I give you a tour of the house?” He reached for my arm, but I didn’t budge. “I want to change my name. I hate being called Rose.” The family that raised me already had three daughters. My adoptive father was already disappointed, and the fact that I wasn’t his biological child made me the extra, the disposable one. Rose. It felt like a weed. Mr. Sinclair’s face was a mask of indulgence. “Of course, darling, anything you want. What would you like your name to be?” I looked at Isabelle, my voice dripping with malice. “I want to be called Isabelle.” The color drained from her face. She tugged on her mother’s sleeve, her voice a desperate whine. “Mommy, I’m Isabelle! She can’t just take my name!” I laughed, a cold, sharp sound. “Your name?” “Don’t tell me that after living in this house for so long, you’ve actually started to believe you belong here. Your real father is a man named Jack Wright. You’re the one who should be called Rose.” Mrs. Sinclair looked at Isabelle, her expression pained. The memory of the electric shock was still fresh, and she didn’t dare refuse me again. “Isabelle, sweetie, she has a point. That name was meant for her. Why don’t you just… let her have it?” Isabelle’s eyes went wide with disbelief. “Mom!” Her mother had always given her everything she ever wanted, would have plucked the stars from the sky for her if she’d asked. She started to protest again, but Mr. Sinclair cut her off with a sharp tone. “Isabelle, that’s enough! I’ll take both of you to get your names legally changed this afternoon.” [Target’s Affection Score: +10. Current Score: 0.] [Target’s Affection Score: +10. Current Score: 10.] Mr. Sinclair wiped a bead of sweat from his forehead, his voice carefully gentle. “Isabelle, can we go inside now?” See? It wasn’t so hard to make them bend to my will. 2 In the end, the former Isabelle wasn’t named Rose. Mr. Sinclair gave her a new name, Anabelle. And on my very first night in the Sinclair mansion, I was treated to quite a show. Spencer Lockwood, Anabelle’s childhood sweetheart, made his entrance. And from his mind, I heard the same familiar, robotic chime I’d heard from her parents. In my past life, Spencer had approached me with practiced ease, showering me with subtle affection and quickly maxing out my favorability. His reward was becoming the undisputed heir to the city’s largest conglomerate. At my funeral, I’d watched him kiss Anabelle in the walk-in closet, his voice thick with devotion. “Anabelle, you’ve always been the only one I love.” This time, just like before, he approached me with a charming smile. “You must be Isabelle’s sister. It’s a pleasure. I’m Spencer.” I ignored his outstretched hand and remained seated on the sofa. “You might want to get your facts straight, Mr. Lockwood. I’m Isabelle now. The person you’re referring to is named Anabelle.” Spencer blinked, a flash of irritation crossing his eyes before he could hide it. “Spencer, you’re here!” Anabelle’s voice was a burst of delight. She practically flew to his side, linking her arm through his possessively. He tweaked her nose playfully. “I heard your sister had arrived. I came to say hello. And maybe snag a free dinner.” At the mention of me, Anabelle’s mood soured. “Oh, so you didn’t come to see me. It’s always about my sister, isn’t it? Fine, maybe I should just leave!” Spencer quickly pulled her back, producing a necklace from his pocket with a flourish. “This is the latest piece from Mignot’s. I bought it the second it was released. Now, tell me, who was I thinking of?” A blush crept up Anabelle’s cheeks. She cooed for him to put it on her, then shot me a look of pure provocation. [Target’s Affection Score: -20. Current Score: -20. Initiating lightning strike punishment.] Spencer’s hand froze. He stared at me in disbelief. “Isabelle…” Before he could finish, his body shuddered, his face contorting in agony. In my last life, starved for affection, I was putty in his hands. A few trinkets were all it took for him to conquer me. But this time, I was no longer a desperate fool chasing after love. I watched him, my expression unreadable. “Spencer, I want that necklace, too.” Anabelle shrieked instinctively. “No way!” she cried, turning to him. “Spencer, you wouldn’t, would you?” He nodded grimly. “This is a gift for you. I would never…” [Target’s Affection Score: -20. Current Score: -40. Initiating punishment of a thousand needles.] Wracked with a pain so intense he could barely stand, Spencer lunged forward and ripped the necklace from Anabelle’s throat. “I’m sorry, Anabelle, but your sister can have this one! I’ll get you a better one tomorrow, I promise!” He’d been so rough that his nails scratched her neck, leaving a thin line of blood. Anabelle clutched her throat, her voice a wail of betrayal. “Why? Why is everyone doing this to me?” Spencer tried to comfort her, but she shoved him away. He clenched and unclenched his fists, finally forcing a smile in my direction. “Isabelle, the necklace is yours. Does that… make you a little happier?” [Target’s Affection Score: +1. Current Score: -39. Score remains negative. Host is advised to improve it immediately.] A muscle in Spencer’s jaw twitched. His smile became even more strained. I dangled the necklace from my index finger. “Thanks.” 3 After dinner, I headed upstairs. Mrs. Sinclair eagerly led me down the hall. “Isabelle, this is the room we prepared for you. We hope you like it!” Here we go again. The same old script. The room they’d “prepared” was a former maid’s room, a glorified closet that barely saw the light of day. They’d given it a hasty paint job, and the chemical smell of it still hung heavy in the air. Last time, I’d been so grateful, so desperate to be a part of their family, that I accepted it without a word. I thought living in that cramped, dark room would earn me their love. All it earned me was a lonely death. This time, I refused. “Who would want to live in a shoebox like this? I think Anabelle’s room is much nicer. I’ll take that one.” Before Anabelle could even start her tantrum, Mr. Sinclair agreed. “Done.” [Target’s Affection Score: +10. Current Score: 10. Please continue your efforts.] He let out a sigh of relief and quickly ushered his wife and other daughter away, terrified that lingering any longer would cause my score to drop again. The night was deep, but I wasn’t asleep. I tiptoed to my parents’ bedroom. Anabelle was sleeping with them tonight. To my surprise, Spencer was there too. Anabelle was sobbing. “The second she gets here, everything becomes hers! You don’t love me at all! My name, my necklace, even my room… she’s taken everything! You promised I was your only treasure, so why are you treating me like this?” Mrs. Sinclair, her eyes filled with pain, pulled her daughter into an embrace and explained everything about the system. Anabelle didn’t believe it. “That’s ridiculous. Things like that don’t exist.” “It’s true,” her father and Spencer said in unison. Anabelle froze, her red-rimmed eyes wide with shock. “So… you still love me? You’re only being nice to her to raise your scores and get the rewards?” Spencer nodded. “Of course! Do you really think we could ever like someone as crude and unrefined as her? Anabelle, you’re the one we cherish.” Mr. Sinclair added, “She’s just some wild girl raised in the middle of nowhere. She can’t hold a candle to you. A few sweet words and cheap gifts, and she’ll be eating out of our hands.” Mrs. Sinclair patted Anabelle’s back reassuringly. “You’re our precious daughter. If it weren’t for the system, we’d never let you suffer like this. Just wait. Once the mission is complete, you can do whatever you want to her.” Anabelle’s tears finally stopped, a smile breaking through. Watching them, I felt nothing. In my last life, a few of Anabelle’s hand-me-down dresses and bits of jewelry were enough to make me weep with gratitude. I fell headfirst into their trap, willingly handing over my affection point by point. Only now, looking back, did I realize that not a single one of them, not the Sinclairs, not Spencer, had ever respected me. They never even saw me as human. [Target’s Affection Score: +10 for each host. Please continue your efforts.] The system’s voice chimed for all three of them simultaneously. They looked around, confused. “What was that? We didn’t do anything.” Anabelle let out a condescending laugh. “She’s probably lying in my bed right now, feeling so grateful to Mom and Dad. Maybe she’s even clutching that necklace Spencer gave her, smiling to herself and thinking he’s actually falling for her.” Spencer scoffed. “As if. I would never fall for a woman like that.” They didn’t understand. The higher you climb, the harder you fall. After gifting them a few points, I returned to my spacious, beautiful new room and slept soundly. Once the truth was out in the open among them, they dropped all pretenses. A river of gifts flowed into my room as they focused solely on raising my score. Mr. Sinclair found any excuse to wire money to my account. Soon, all three of their scores hit 90. But for the past few weeks, Mr. Sinclair had been growing anxious. His score was stuck at 90. No matter what he bought me, it wouldn’t budge. Mrs. Sinclair and Spencer were facing the same problem. After a hushed conference, they decided to throw a massive birthday party for me. It just so happened to be Anabelle’s birthday, too. At the party, Mr. Sinclair publicly announced my true identity as his long-lost daughter and presented me with a lavish gift, his eyes shining with fatherly pride. In my previous life, the Sinclairs never once acknowledged me. Anabelle told everyone I was her personal maid. The other wealthy daughters treated me like a pack mule, loading me up with their shopping bags and sometimes even hitting me when they were in a bad mood. I endured it all for the sake of a family that never wanted me, trying so desperately to be the good, obedient child they craved. The moment their mission was complete, they cast me aside. I died without ever receiving a single drop of genuine love from them. This time, I lifted my glass of champagne, walked over to Anabelle, and poured its entire contents over her perfectly coiffed head. Anabelle shrieked. “Ah— what are you doing?!” Her exquisite makeup streamed down her face, leaving her a pathetic, dripping mess. I calmly handed my empty glass to a waiter. “Dad just announced that I’m the true Sinclair heiress. You’re an imposter who’s been living my life for years. Don’t you think you deserve a little punishment for that?” All eyes swiveled to Mr. Sinclair. He was famous for doting on Anabelle, for never even raising his voice to her. Now that I had publicly humiliated her, how would he react? A vein throbbed in his temple. He looked ready to explode. Just as he was about to erupt, the system’s voice cut through the air.

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I was always a bit slow, my mind only grasping half of what people said. When my grandmother cursed, “I’d rather raise a pig than you,” the next day, I brought her a big, fat pig. That night, the pig gored her. My father called me a “debt collector’s nightmare.” I promptly dug out his hidden loan shark ledgers and went door-to-door, helping him collect debts. The debts remained uncollected, but my father ended up attracting the attention of the police and was promptly hauled off to jail. My mother, furious, smashed a bowl and pointed a shaking finger at me. “You ungrateful wretch, why don’t you just take my life too!” I nodded earnestly, then served her rat poison. That was the end of her. When I opened my eyes again, I had transmigrated into a dark romance novel, a plaything controlled by dangerous men. The male lead summoned me to his office and tossed a hotel room key card onto the desk. “Spend tonight with some important clients for me. This deal must close.” I obediently took the card, and that night, I got him roaring drunk, then sent him off to the room himself to entertain the clients… 1 When the two dark-suited bodyguards escorted me to Adrian Danny’s private estate, he was already dressed in a perfectly tailored black suit. I stood in the opulent great hall, still wearing my usual vacant, slightly bewildered expression. I spoke softly, “Adrian, was last night successful? I was very obedient. I made sure to deliver your sincerity, just as you instructed.” “Shut up!” Adrian hurled a crystal ashtray at my feet. It shattered, fragments scattering across the polished floor. He strode toward me in a few quick steps, grabbing my jaw in a grip so tight I thought my bones would splinter. “Skye Reynolds, are you playing games with me?” His gaze was as venomous as a viper’s. “Who gave you the audacity?” I winced in pain, my eyes wide with innocent confusion. “Adrian, I wasn’t playing games. You told me to make sure the clients were satisfied. They thought I wasn’t enough, that you needed to be there yourself to show sincerity.” I saw the thunderous look on his face and belatedly realized I’d made another mistake. Mistakes called for apologies. I immediately lowered my head. “I’m sorry, Adrian. I was wrong. I didn’t realize you couldn’t personally entertain them. Even though the clients were very satisfied, I won’t do it again!” Adrian looked like he was about to burst a blood vessel. He stepped forward and clamped his hand around my throat. “Shut up! If you mention that again, I swear I’ll kill you!” I quietly closed my mouth. His grip tightened, stealing my breath. Suddenly, he flung me away, gasping for air. He walked to the window, his back to me, his voice dark and low. “Fine. Very good, Skye Reynolds. Since you’re so obedient, I suppose I should reward you, shouldn’t I?” He roughly dragged me toward the basement, deep within the mansion. The original Skye’s memories flashed through my mind. Many terrible things were hidden down there. He slammed the door shut and retrieved a leather whip, studded with barbed hooks, from the wall. “Today, I’m going to teach you what obedience truly means.” He raised the whip, bringing it down viciously toward my shoulder. He expected me to collapse, to grovel on the floor and beg for mercy, as Skye always did. But the moment the whip descended, a surge of pure terror made me instinctively lunge sideways. My movement snagged a heavy decorative stand, ripping its power cord from the wall. The stand swayed precariously, and a massive brass statue on its top toppled, plummeting directly toward Adrian. A sickening thud and Adrian’s piercing scream erupted simultaneously. The brass statue, with unerring precision, landed squarely on his already battered body from last night’s… client entertainment. He instantly curled into a fetal position, his face ashen, writhing on the floor in agony. The bodyguards, hearing the commotion, burst in, eyes wide with shock. They hastily carried Adrian out, calling for his private doctor. Hours later, a pale, furious Adrian lay on his bed, his eyes so dark they could curdle milk. When he saw me, a rare, chilling smile touched his lips. “I’ve found you a new place. You always loved acting, didn’t you? Sterling Productions’ rising star, Harry Hayes, is looking for a new personal assistant. He’s quite good at training people, especially at discovering raw talent like yours.” He reached out and patted my shoulder. “I remember you always used to pester him. Now, I’ve given you my blessing.” Harry Hayes… Fragments of the original Skye’s memories flickered in my mind. He was a celebrity, all charming smiles and dazzling charisma to the public. In private, he was a monster who reveled in tormenting and humiliating women. In the original story, Skye had a past with him. At first, she thought it was a rekindling of childhood friendship, but over time, his true nature emerged. Skye was driven to the brink of insanity, leaving her with profound psychological scars. Adrian walked to his desk and picked up a note with an address, tossing it at me as if I were a beggar. “Tonight, eight o’clock, go to this address and find Mr. Hayes. Tell him I, Adrian Danny, sent you as a gift. Tell him to… take good care of you.” He emphasized the word “care” with a sinister weight. I bent down and picked up the note, blinking up at him. “Thank you, Adrian. You’re so kind to me.” I carefully folded the note and tucked it into my pocket. “Don’t worry, I’ll learn from Mr. Hayes and serve him well. I won’t let you down!” Adrian watched my innocent display, his eyes cold and lifeless. He waved his hand, dismissing me like a fly. “Go on, then, my dear fiancée. Your Harry was just mentioning you not long ago.” 2 At the mansion gates, I rang the bell. The door opened. Harry Hayes stood there, a perfectly calibrated warm smile on his face, his eyes full of an almost drowning tenderness. “Skye, you’re here,” he said, his voice intimately natural. “Come in, it’s cold out.” He stepped aside, a picture of solicitousness. I looked up. “Harry, Adrian sent me to help.” His smile was gentle. “Yes, I truly need a trustworthy assistant these days. Adrian has given me a wonderful gift.” He led me into the living room. “It’s been too long since we’ve had a proper chat, Skye. Do you remember when we were children? You always followed me around like a shadow. From now on, I’ll take care of you, alright?” I cradled the glass of water he’d given me, nodding obediently. “Yes, I’ll do whatever you say.” A flicker of satisfaction crossed Harry’s eyes. “Such a good girl.” He smiled contentedly, sitting down beside me, close enough for me to smell his clean, crisp scent. He was about to say something more when the electronic lock on the apartment door chimed. Someone was entering. A man in a flashy pink shirt sauntered in, humming a tune. It was Danny Thorne, the notorious playboy from the Thorne family. In the original story, he and Harry were two peas in a pod, close friends who shared a love for debauchery. He and Adrian, however, utterly despised each other. “Harry, I heard Adrian sent his precious fiancée here for you to ‘train’?” Danny’s eyes, full of amused curiosity, landed on me the moment he walked in. He assessed me like a new toy, a mischievous smirk playing on his lips. “Well done, brother. Quick moves.” Harry didn’t seem surprised by Danny’s appearance. He merely smiled, a hint of boastfulness in his voice. “You’re well-informed. Skye is a bit shy, don’t scare her.” Danny plopped onto the sofa, crossing his legs, his gaze shifting between me and Harry, his tone light and suggestive. “Adrian’s cast-off idiot? Could be interesting, couldn’t it?” Harry frowned. “Danny, tone it down. Skye isn’t like those other women.” Danny scoffed. “What’s the difference? They’re all women. Besides, between us brothers, what’s mine is yours, right?” He winked suggestively. “Good things are better shared, wouldn’t you agree?” Harry didn’t contradict him, silently assenting. He turned to me, his voice soothing. “Don’t be scared, Skye. Danny is just joking. He just wants to… be friends.” He took my hand, and Danny, grinning, crowded in, sandwiching me between them. “Come on, Skye. Let me show you the surprise I prepared.” I was led into the bedroom. Harry picked up a black lace nightgown, barely more than a few scraps of fabric. “Skye, put this on and let me see.” I looked at the garment in his hand and shook my head vigorously, my face a mask of earnestness. “Oh no, Harry. I can’t.” “Why not? Aren’t you always a good girl who listens to me?” “Because there are other people here.” Harry chuckled, his smile suggestive. “It’s fine. A good girl should be open and honest.” “Open and honest…” I murmured, as if convinced by the phrase. I took the nightgown and blinked. Then, I pulled out my phone and tapped open a live-stream app. Open and honest. That surely meant everyone should see, right? 3 In the bedroom, the live-stream camera was pointed directly at the nightgown. I held my phone, watching the furious scroll of comments on the screen, my face alight with pure, unadulterated joy. “Harry, Danny,” I said, my voice clear and tinged with excitement, “look! So many people! They all want to see the surprise Harry prepared for me. Does this count as being open and honest?” The moment the live-stream appeared, Harry and Danny froze. Their faces were blank, clearly overwhelmed by what I’d done. Harry could clearly see the words “scumbag,” “call the police,” and other furious comments flashing across the screen, along with the terrifying surge in viewer numbers. “Turn it off! Turn it off now!” Harry was the first to react, his voice a hoarse roar as he lunged for my phone. Danny, his face chalk-white, instinctively tried to shield his face, cursing incoherently, “Skye Reynolds, are you insane?” Their menacing expressions and shouts startled me. My hand trembled, and the phone clattered to the floor. [What happened? Black screen?] [Sounds like a fight?] [I hear Harry yelling!] “I didn’t mean to, Harry, please don’t be angry…” My voice was choked with sobs as I bent down to pick up the phone. But Harry stomped on it viciously. The screen shattered instantly. His chest heaved, his eyes bloodshot, glaring at me as if he wanted to devour me whole. The live stream was cut, but the damage was done. Almost the second the screen went black, Harry and Danny’s phones began to vibrate like death rattles. The names flashing on their screens were their agents, company executives, and even close brand partners. Harry answered his call. His agent’s panicked roar blasted through the receiver, audible even without speakerphone. “Harry, what in God’s name are you doing? What was that live stream? Do you have any idea you’re finished? Get back here and fix this now!” Danny’s situation was equally dire. His father probably wished he could stuff him back into his mother’s womb. The bedroom fell into a deathly silence. After a long moment, Harry abruptly lifted his head, his gaze fixed on me. “Harry knows you didn’t mean to, Skye.” I sniffled, looking up at him timidly. He continued, his voice laced with practiced persuasion. “But Skye, because of that live stream, a lot of people outside have misunderstood Harry and Danny. They think we hurt you, and they want to send us to jail. So Skye, now you’re the only one who can help us.” Danny chimed in, equally eager. “Yes, Skye, you have to be a good girl and listen, or we’ll abandon you.” I nodded vigorously. “I’ll be a good girl!” A flash of triumph flickered in Harry’s eyes. He began to instruct me, word for word. “It’s simple. Tomorrow, we’ll hold a press conference. Then, you’ll step forward and tell everyone, all the cameras…” He paused for emphasis. “You’ll say that everything tonight – coming to my house, and the live stream – was all your idea. That you wanted attention, that you deliberately planned it. Harry and Danny were just tricked by you, and we’re innocent. Remember?” I nodded hard. So, under the blinding flash of cameras and the barrage of microphones, I repeated his instructions, word for word. But when Harry and Danny heard my confession, their faces twisted in horror. “Damn it, what are you saying?!”

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The day the true heiress returned, my parents tossed my luggage out of the mansion. “Isla is our real daughter. The moment I saw her, I knew – blood runs thicker than water!” Isla flashed me a triumphant smile. “Sister, what’s mine, you should return.” I looked at the golden aura above her head – the [100% Guaranteed Elite Family Recognition] halo – and neither cried nor made a scene. Instead, I sent samples of her hair to seven other notoriously ruthless elite families in the city. Half a month later, Isla called me, sobbing. “Please, take these fathers away. I can’t take it anymore!” I calmly hung up the phone. “This is just the beginning.” “Tonight, all eight family dinners clash. Good luck.” … My name is Iris Fitzgerald, and for twenty years, I was the daughter of the Fitzgerald family. Today, that identity expired. The mansion’s ornate iron gates slowly closed before me, like a guillotine drawing a line in the sand. My suitcase lay roughly discarded by the roadside, its contents spilling out, clothes soiled with mud. My perpetually bewildered mother was cradling her biological daughter, Isla, sobbing uncontrollably. “My Isla, you’ve suffered so much out there all these years.” My supposed father, Mr. Fitzgerald, eyed me with the cold, assessing gaze of someone appraising merchandise. “Iris, we’ve raised you for twenty years. We’ve been more than generous. From today, you have no further connection to this family.” Isla lifted her head from her mother’s embrace, her face still streaked with tears, but her eyes held undisguised scorn for me. “Sister, don’t blame Mom and Dad. They just love me too much.” I calmly observed the halo above her head. That golden glow was dazzling, almost blinding. I said nothing, merely bending to quietly gather my scattered belongings. Isla seemed to think this wasn’t enough. She stepped closer, looking down at me. “By the way, Sister, you’re used to living in a mansion, but renting outside isn’t cheap. Do you need me to advance you some wages? You could always work as a maid for us. At least you’d have a place.” I finally met her gaze. “No need.” My eyes swept past her, to the second-floor balcony of the mansion. There, a pile of her freshly discarded clothes lay, next to the vanity where she had just brushed her hair. Perfect. That’s where I’d find what I needed. I turned and walked away, dragging my suitcase, without a single glance back. They thought I was utterly defeated. They had no idea the game had only just begun. That evening, I used my savings to rent a small apartment downtown. After settling in, I contacted a maid who still worked at the Fitzgerald mansion, someone I had helped in the past. Half an hour later, a same-day delivery package was on my table. Inside was a comb, with a few strands of long hair tangled in it. I took out the eight pre-prepared sealed bags and eight envelopes. The eight most influential elite families in the city. Each a hundred times more prominent than the Fitzgeralds. Coincidentally, each of these eight families had some long-standing mystery concerning their bloodline. Either a daughter lost years ago, or a patriarch with an almost insane obsession with pure lineage. They would stop at nothing, spare no expense. I put on gloves and carefully divided the hair into the sealed bags. Then, I wrote an anonymous letter to each family. The content was largely similar: “Your lost bloodline. I’ve found her.” “Here is the evidence. Do with it what you will.” No sender, no superfluous explanations. After all that, I leaned back in my chair, watching the city lights twinkling outside my window. Isla, you have that recognition aura, don’t you? I’ll give you all the recognition you can handle. The days that followed were unusually peaceful. I found a part-time job at an art gallery, working nine to five. Isla probably assumed I was traumatized into silence, sending me messages every other day. They were always about her latest designer bag, or some lavish party the Fitzgerald couple had taken her to. [Sister, Dad bought me a pink Porsche. Look, isn’t it pretty? [image]] [Mom says my skin is amazing, so she’s taking me to Switzerland for the most exclusive treatment. Ugh, sometimes being too pampered is a hassle.] I ignored them all. She was like a boxer punching air, talking to herself, perfectly content. Until half a month later, the first big fish bit. Mr. Davies, chairman of Davies Group, a real estate mogul, publicly announced a search for his lost daughter. Twenty-two years ago, he’d lost a child. Now, thanks to a mysterious DNA sample, he’d found her! At the press conference, Mr. Davies wept tears of joy, a bewildered young woman standing beside him. It was Isla. In the photos, she wore an expensive but ill-fitting gown, her smile stiff. I turned off the news just as my phone rang. It was Mr. Fitzgerald. His voice was thick with barely suppressed rage. “Iris! Was this your doing? How can Isla be Mr. Davies’s daughter?” I feigned surprise. “Mr. Fitzgerald, what are you talking about? Isn’t Isla your biological daughter? What happened? Does this bloodline come with a ‘buy one, get one free’ deal?” “You!” He was too furious to speak. “Mr. Fitzgerald, instead of worrying about this, you should probably figure out how to explain it to Mr. Davies. After all, your ‘true heiress’ seems to be his as well. I hear Mr. Davies is notoriously ruthless with those who deceive him. You wouldn’t want to sacrifice yourself for a two-for-one daughter, would you?” I hung up and blocked his number. I could imagine the Fitzgerald household was in utter chaos. They thought they had welcomed a unique bloodline, only to find they had a bargain-bin version. Isla’s social media paused for two days. On the third day, she reappeared. This time, it was a photo with Mr. Davies, captioned: “Turns out, I have two loving fathers.” Below, my mother was the first to like it, commenting: “Both of you are Mom’s good daughters.” I nearly laughed out loud at the forced harmony. Isla had probably convinced herself, and the Fitzgerald family. What’s wrong with an extra dad, if it means extra pampering? Unfortunately, she didn’t understand. When a miracle happens repeatedly, it ceases to be a miracle. It becomes a joke. Sure enough, less than three days later, a second missing persons announcement rocked the city. Mr. Allen, founder of Allen Tech, an internet giant with a multi-billion dollar valuation, announced he had found his long-lost daughter. The token of his successful search was another unheralded DNA sample. And the girl he excitedly embraced was, once again, Isla. The city exploded. [What kind of lucky charm is this Isla? Even lottery tickets don’t hit this often!] [I suggest an investigation. This might be a new type of scam.] [^ The DNA results are all confirmed. All three families match. This is a scientific anomaly.] Isla’s phone was practically vibrating itself to death. When she called me, her voice was tinged with tears. “Iris, what is going on? Why does Mr. Allen also say I’m his daughter?” I slowly sipped my tea. “Congratulations, Isla. Your fatherly love quota has doubled again.” “Don’t be so sarcastic! Is this your doing?” she shrieked. “Me?” I chuckled. “I’m just a fake heiress kicked out of my home. How could I have such power? You should ask yourself why you’re so… generous?” Silence on her end, punctuated by heavy breathing. I knew she was starting to question her own infallible aura. The Fitzgerald and Davies families had already fallen out. Mr. Davies believed Mr. Fitzgerald was a con artist, deliberately using his daughter to climb the social ladder. Mr. Fitzgerald believed Mr. Davies was a thief, trying to steal his precious daughter. The two families began sabotaging each other’s businesses. And at the center of it all, Isla was experiencing a chilling dichotomy. The Davies family demanded she study from five in the morning until midnight. If she didn’t get a perfect score in any subject, she was confined for three days. Mr. Davies even set up a dedicated punishment room for her. The Allen family enrolled her in an entertainment company but forbade her from smiling at any male. Her phone and computer were monitored, her social media accounts rigorously scrutinized. One time, she simply greeted an elderly security guard, and all her luxury items were confiscated. She was even sent to a “female etiquette electroshock school” for a three-day intensive training. The Fitzgerald family, in the most awkward position, wanted to intervene but dared not offend the other two families. They could only call daily, feigning concern, and emphasizing that they were her “first” father. Isla’s schedule was packed to the brim. She no longer had time to flaunt on social media. Her messages to me changed from boasting to complaining. [Today, I just looked at my riding instructor for too long during equestrian class and Mr. Davies made me stand still for two hours.] [Dad Allen assigned me eight bodyguards. Two female bodyguards stand outside the restroom door when I use it! They even record the time and duration of each visit and report it. Is he a pervert?] [My mom wants me to come home for dinner, but I have to attend a family dinner at the Davies’ tonight. What do I do? Mr. Sullivan also said if I’m a minute late, he’ll leak scandals about me to the media and ruin me.] I looked at her pleas, my mood pleasant. This is just a few fathers. You can’t handle it? Don’t worry, there are five more waiting in line. Plus a bonus. When the fourth and fifth elite families successively announced they had recognized Isla as their daughter, the entire society was speechless. News headlines shifted from the astonished “Elite Family Miracle” to the mocking “Revolving Elite Families, Enduring Isla.” Isla became the biggest running joke in the city. A walking daddy collector. She was utterly broken. That afternoon, I was organizing paintings in the gallery when Isla burst in, her face devoid of makeup. She grabbed my hand, her eyes bloodshot and raw. “Iris, I was wrong. I was so, so wrong!” She was trembling all over, her Chanel suit wrinkled, her hair dishehevelled. “Please, make them stop! I don’t want so many fathers anymore! I just want the Fitzgeralds. My mom and dad are enough!” Other colleagues in the gallery cast curious glances our way. I gently pulled my hand free, calmly looking at her. “You shouldn’t be telling me this. You should tell them. Tell them you’re not their daughter.” “I did!” she wailed. “But they don’t believe me! They all did DNA tests, and the results all show I’m their biological daughter! They think everyone else is lying, trying to deceive me!” That certainly fit the character of those obsessive patriarchs. “Iris, I know it was you! You sent my hair to them, didn’t you?” She had finally figured it out. I neither admitted nor denied it. “What do you want from me? Will you only be satisfied when I’m dead?” she asked, looking at me with desperation. I picked up the water glass on the table and took a sip. “I don’t want anything.” “I just think that if it’s a windfall from heaven, it’s better to have a few more to ensure a balanced diet of nutrition.” “You!” She trembled with rage. Just then, her phone rang furiously. She glanced at the caller ID, her face instantly turning ashen. Her hand shook, and the phone dropped to the floor. The screen displayed “Mr. Sullivan”—the media mogul, the sixth father to recognize her. He was known for his fiery temper and extreme possessiveness. The phone rang incessantly, like a death knell. Isla stared at the phone on the floor as if it were a bomb. She dared not answer. I bent down, picked up the phone, and pressed to hang up. Then, I saw her packed schedule of reminders.

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The day Jimmy Slade fully seized control of the Slade family, Portside burned with fireworks all night. Everyone speculated he was finally going to marry me. But I waited from dusk till dawn. What I got instead was the news of Thorne Group’s assets being frozen, accusations of my own alleged misdeeds about to land me in prison. I got Jimmy Slade’s hard-won triumph, and the announcement of his engagement to the novel’s heroine. The system’s cold voice chimed: “Congratulations, Host. Mission successfully completed. Would you like to depart this world?” I nodded without hesitation. Later, when Jimmy learned I had died, he panicked. Didn’t he want me ruined and dead? Why was he crying? 1 “Host, detaching from the body will take three days. Please wait quietly.” The system’s voice continued, and I watched a video on my tablet, completely unfazed. Just then, the doorbell of Thorne Manor rang, as I expected it would. The maid rushed over. “Miss Thorne, it’s the police.” “Let them in.” I set down the tablet. Last night, when everyone thought I would become the mistress of the Slade family, news broke that Thorne Group was involved in illicit activities. Right below it, pinned at number two, was a trending topic about me, Iris Thorne, organizing illegal operations and selling prohibited products. The accuser: Jimmy Slade. Public opinion swiftly turned. Everyone praised Jimmy Slade for his righteousness. He smoothly ascended to the position of Slade family patriarch. He also smoothly canceled his engagement to me and announced his wedding date with his childhood sweetheart, Charlotte Summers. “Miss Thorne.” I recognized the lead officer, a man named Officer Wells. He was famously stubborn, unwilling to wrongly accuse the innocent, and equally unwilling to let the guilty escape. He looked at me with an unreadable emotion in his eyes. “Hello, Officer Wells.” I smiled and greeted him, then extended my wrists, waiting for him to cuff me. He hesitated, not moving. It wasn’t until the young female officer beside him prompted him, “Wells, this isn’t the time for personal feelings.” Oh? Personal feelings? The system’s voice came: “Just pulled a clip. After the accusations against you came out, even with evidence, Wells refused to believe it. He insisted on investigating the truth to clear your name.” Hearing that, I couldn’t help but laugh aloud. Officer Wells and the young officer both looked at me. The young officer indignantly said, “Beauty doesn’t automatically mean a kind heart. Wells, I will report your behavior to the Chief.” In the end, it was the young officer who put the handcuffs on me. They were cold and metallic, a first for me. I was about to walk out. Officer Wells raised a hand to stop me. “Did Miss Thorne do all those good deeds just to cover her tracks?” I met his questioning gaze. I knew what he was about to say next. He was going to say, “I don’t believe it.” But whether he believed it or not didn’t matter. 2 I was merely the villainess in this novel. My mission was to clear all obstacles for Jimmy Slade, help him become the Slade family patriarch, and complete the romantic subplot. Thorne Group and my own existence were the last hurdles for Jimmy Slade to overcome. To complete the mission, I could play the fool and offer everything on a silver platter. The system had warned me two weeks ago: “After Jimmy Slade takes the shares from your hands, Thorne Group will be shut down, and you will go to prison. Are you just going to watch him frame you step by step for the next two weeks?” I merely smiled. I even reminded it: “This is just a mission.” In the novel, the Slade and Thorne families were always rivals, their previous generations constantly vying for supremacy in Portside. Later, they were manipulated by a villain. The two families were involved in a transaction that led to Portside’s most severe explosion. That was when I transmigrated, becoming the sole survivor of the explosion. Five-year-old Jimmy Slade became the sole heir to the Slade family. His uncles all tried to seize the opportunity to eliminate Jimmy and take power themselves. Jimmy’s grandmother wanted to use Thorne Group to protect Jimmy, so she gave me 10% of the shares. Thus, defying the opposition of Thorne Group’s shareholders, I chose to put aside the family feuds and proactively proposed a marriage alliance with Jimmy. 3 “Yes, Officer Wells, I was indeed covering up my crimes. I am a truly wicked person. You misjudged and misplaced your trust.” I smiled sweetly at him, then followed the young officer out of Thorne Manor. The mansion was surrounded by reporters, undoubtedly arranged by Jimmy. Their gloating faces were truly quite unbearable. “Did you ever imagine this day, after all the atrocious things you’ve done?” “Justice is served. You will pay the price for your actions!” Jimmy stood outside the mansion, watching my humiliation with cold detachment, Charlotte clinging to his arm. From afar, they truly looked like a match made in heaven. I suddenly remembered Jimmy in his youth, crying, his eyes red, burying his face in my embrace. “Iris, wait for me. I will definitely marry you. The day I become the Slade family patriarch, I will set off fireworks all night for you. All the billboards in Portside will display our photos. I will tell the whole world how much I love you.” Jimmy had done it. Only the object of his affection wasn’t me. The promises of youth ultimately became lies. In this mission, the romantic subplot wasn’t particularly important. The system even said that if I wished, I could choose to stay and build an empire with Jimmy. But the first time Jimmy chose Charlotte and left me forgotten in the rain, I understood. Some plotlines, even if altered, can’t fake genuine affection. Besides, I didn’t love him. 4 Jimmy approached, his bodyguards clearing a path. He drew close, still wearing the suit, tie, and even cufflinks I had personally designed and meticulously selected for him. He leaned in slightly. “Iris Thorne, you could beg me.” “If you just soften your stance, I can get you out.” I scoffed internally. No, I wouldn’t. I’m not one to be strong-armed. I looked back at Officer Wells. “Officer Wells, someone is challenging authority.” Jimmy’s face instantly turned to ice. Officer Wells quickly stepped forward, placing himself between Jimmy and me. “Mr. Slade, please do not obstruct the police.” Jimmy laughed in exasperation, clenching his fist and warning me, “Iris Thorne, the Thorne family caused the death of my parents. Blood for blood. This is what you owe me.” I pursed my lips. So, he was blaming the explosion on the Thorne family. Suddenly, the symptoms of departing the world began to manifest. A metallic taste welled in my throat, which I desperately swallowed down. “Then how about I pay with my life?” “The crimes you’ve committed are enough to execute you hundreds of times over!” Jimmy roared. My face was pale, but I smiled at him, my eyes curving. “Then I wish Mr. Slade a prosperous future and boundless success.” After the last word, I got into the backseat of the police car. I didn’t look back. The system’s voice carried a hint of indignation: “You’re the most cold-blooded, ruthless, and formidable host I’ve ever guided. You’re the first one to deliberately set herself up for death.” I looked out the window, ignoring the system, clenching my fists, enduring the sharp pain as my fingernails dug into my flesh. Jimmy was my masterpiece, ruthless, decisive, and efficient. This was good. 5 The moment I stepped out of the police car, I completely collapsed. I violently vomited a large mouthful of blood, which, by sheer coincidence, splattered all over Officer Wells’s uniform. My stomach pain was so intense I could barely stand upright, and cold sweat soaked the back of my clothes. “What’s wrong with you?!” Officer Wells immediately rushed to support me. My hand gripped his arm, my whole body weak and lifeless. When I looked up, my face was utterly bloodless, as pale as if I were already dead. Someone nearby quickly called for an ambulance, but before it arrived, my vision went black, and I passed out. In a haze, I heard the doctor speaking to Officer Wells. “She has late-stage stomach cancer. She won’t live for more than two weeks.” Officer Wells said nothing. When I opened my eyes, I met his gaze, which was filled with complex emotions. “Officer Wells, are you feeling sad for me?” He still said nothing, merely pouring me a glass of water. One of my wrists was handcuffed to the bedframe. “Will my illness cause trouble for your case? If not, you can fast-track the judgment. I plead guilty.” I added. Officer Wells’s grip tightened on the cup. He stared at me with an indignant intensity. “Iris Thorne, do you think that because you’re dying, you can take responsibility for anything and everything? Guilty is guilty, innocent is innocent. Don’t try to disrespect the law.” I smiled faintly, then took the cup from Officer Wells’s hand and took a sip. “Officer Wells is right to admonish me. I trust Officer Wells.” 6 Officer Wells left. It was the young officer’s turn to watch me. She didn’t seem to like me, always wearing a stern expression, but I quite liked her. In the novel, her character was very well-written—clear in her loves and hates, brave in pursuing what she believed in. The system suddenly spoke in my mind: “I’ve used points to block your pain. You will complete your death in three days. I’ve already chosen your next mission: how about pursuing Officer Wells? A bit of a romance subplot.” Uh… “I refuse.” “Refusal invalid.” You truly are my wonderful system. Officer Wells and I are different. He’s a star in the sky; I’m dust on the ground. We’re destined never to truly intersect. The hospital room television was showing Portside’s auction. Jimmy and Charlotte were attending together. She intimately linked her arm through Jimmy’s, a wedding ring on her middle finger. I designed it myself. Unfortunately, it wasn’t my size. “Our wedding is set for the eighth of next month. Everyone is welcome to attend.” Charlotte handled the reporters with composure, but Jimmy… his expression was terrible, his thoughts seemingly far away. He didn’t even react when Charlotte called him. Until someone suddenly asked, “Mr. Slade, how much do you know about Miss Thorne’s situation? Did you hesitate at all to expose her and sacrifice your own? Many in the industry believed you would marry Miss Thorne.” Jimmy frowned, glanced at the reporter’s press pass, then suddenly let out a cold laugh. “You used to work for Thorne Group, didn’t you?” The reporter instantly fell silent, his microphone held awkwardly, unable to raise or lower it. He could only force a “yes.” Jimmy gave a mocking smile. Speaking into the microphone, he was also, in essence, speaking to me. “Never hesitated for a second. Iris Thorne broke the law. She deserves what’s coming to her. I never even considered marrying her.” 7 Suddenly, the young officer switched off the television. She looked at me. “You have terrible taste in men.” I raised an eyebrow playfully. “But he wasn’t wrong, was he? I committed a crime, he reported me, and I’m facing punishment.” She snorted. “You’re right. I just don’t like his face. I’ve heard plenty about you and Jimmy. You helped him so much, and he stabbed you in the back. Aren’t you angry?” she asked, looking at me curiously. I merely smiled. “Of course I am. I almost burned down the Slade family estate.” “You wouldn’t dare!” she snapped, instantly standing up. I couldn’t help but laugh aloud. She was the same age as Charlotte. But far more innocent. Charlotte was Jimmy’s childhood sweetheart, his white moonlight, the heroine of this world. After the Slade family’s troubles, she was sent abroad; the Summers family didn’t want to get involved. Later, when Jimmy began to succeed, Charlotte returned and started rekindling their old flames. I used to mock Charlotte endlessly back then. A five-year-old child. How much profound love could there be? “I wouldn’t dare.” “You better behave!” the young officer glared at me. I nodded. 8 By the third day, my body’s functions began to fail. I coughed up large mouthfuls of blood, ceaselessly. My heart stopped several times. My entire body was bloodless, sweat and blood mingling on my forehead. The doctors and nurses were frantic. I called out to the system in my mind: “Can’t you let me die quickly? It’s too much trouble for the doctors, and it weighs on my conscience.” The system remained silent, giving me a six-dot ellipsis of exasperation. Officer Wells rushed in, drenched, as a torrential downpour raged outside. The sky was gloomy, which only added to my own disquiet. “The doctor said she won’t make it through the night,” the young officer said, her eyes red. Officer Wells looked at me, lying unconscious in the hospital bed, his expression grave. “How can this be so sudden? Didn’t they say she had another two weeks?” “She’s been depressed every day,” the young officer explained. “The doctor said maybe it’s because she has no will to live.” I wanted to object. I felt I’d been quite content these past three days. No work to deal with, no social gatherings to attend, no need to keep my nerves on edge. The system asked, “Do you want to say goodbye to them? Wells has been tirelessly working on your behalf these past few days.” “No,” I refused coldly. He wasn’t doing it for me, but for justice. If I hadn’t been the one reported today, he would still have acted the same way. Officer Wells leaned close. “Iris Thorne, I’m trying to find evidence. I will clear your name. You wouldn’t want to die with a bad reputation, would you?” What a foolish person. I really wanted to open my eyes and tell him. There’s no need to insist. This is the destined ending. Suddenly, the monitor blared, beeping—then a long, flat line. My blood pressure plummeted. Officer Wells froze for a few seconds, his face full of shock, until a nurse pulled him away. Only then did he react. “Prepare for CPR! Defibrillate!” The doctors began resuscitation again, continuously pressing on my chest, shocking me. Ultimately, my heart stopped. A flat line on the monitor. Officer Wells’s pained voice and the system’s cold voice sounded simultaneously. “Iris Thorne!” “Congratulations, Host, on successful detachment!” 9 I floated in the air, the system a white wisp on my shoulder. I was a bit exasperated. “Couldn’t you wait until Wells was further away before I died?” “Uh—” “Because time was up,” the system replied innocently. The doctor reluctantly announced my death. Wells clenched his fists, seemingly unable to comprehend my passing. “If I hadn’t said those things to her, would she still be alive?” he muttered, rigid. “No!” the young officer cried, her eyes red. “Wells, she was already dying! Even if not from cancer, she would have died by execution!” He shook his head. “I’ve found clues. What if she was innocent?” The young officer slapped him, turning Wells’s head to the side. “Wells, you’ve never been so irrational on a case before. Why is it that with Iris Thorne, you can’t control your emotions? If she was innocent, we will clear her name. She didn’t die unjustly; she died of illness. Birth, aging, sickness, death—these are things we cannot control!” Wells looked like all the strength had left his body, sinking weakly onto a chair in the corridor, consumed by deep self-reproach. I felt even guiltier. “System, can you give him a dream?” “I don’t want to owe anyone favors.” The system twitched its lips. “I asked if you wanted to say goodbye earlier. You refused. I can’t interfere now.” Fine.

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After Mom and Dad divorced, Mom developed a gender identity disorder. She raised me, her daughter, as a boy. She took me to the men’s restroom, where I had to use the urinals. She made me live in the boys’ dorms, exposed to my male classmates. I was young then, and no one really noticed anything unusual. Until I turned fifteen, and my body started to change. My classmates’ gazes grew strange. “Is that a freak? So disgusting!” “Neither male nor female, always flaunting herself around men!” Feeling wronged, I went home and cried to Mom. I thought, finally, she would see me as a girl. But she just smiled at me. “Don’t worry, I’ve booked you for a mastectomy.” “As a boy, you don’t need to develop these inappropriate things.” … I stared at her, my voice trembling. “Mom… what surgery did you say?” In my hand, I clutched the perfect score math test I’d just received, disbelief warring with a rising sense of dread. Mom turned from the counter, still holding a kitchen knife, and smiled serenely. “A mastectomy.” Her tone was unnervingly calm, as if discussing what we’d have for dinner. Like, ‘Tonight, we’re having sweet and sour ribs.’ I looked at her kind, loving face, and a sliver of genuine terror pierced my heart. “Couldn’t… couldn’t we skip the surgery?” I asked, my voice barely a whisper. The words were barely out before Mom’s expression twisted. She slammed the knife onto the counter, ripped off her apron, and strode towards me. “Alex, look at you! What do you look like?” Her finger jabbed hard into my barely developing chest. “Is this something a boy should have? This is all because you keep eating those junk foods! The hormones are turning you into… this!” I wanted to say it wasn’t the food, it was because I was a girl. But the words churned in my throat, unspoken, swallowed back down. When I was five, I’d said I was a girl, and Mom had thrown away all my dolls. I cried, picking them out of the trash, only for her to shred them with scissors. “Boys don’t play with dolls! How disgusting! Can’t you be more masculine?” From then on, I knew. Only by pretending to be a boy could I earn my mother’s love. Perhaps seeing my silence, Mom suddenly sighed. Her voice softened, and she called me, “Sweetheart, are you scared of the surgery because it might hurt?” I nodded vigorously, tears streaming down my face despite myself. It had been so long since she’d called me “sweetheart.” She gently stroked my face, then continued, “How about this, sweetheart? We won’t do the surgery for now, okay? Mom will take you for hormone treatments instead. Maybe that will help.” “Really?” I snapped my head up, my voice trembling with a fragile hope. “Really.” Mom smiled warmly. A flicker of expectation sparked within me. Maybe if we delayed it long enough, Mom would just forget. As she spoke, Mom retrieved a warmed cup of milk and held it out to me. I suddenly remembered when I was sick as a child, how Mom would stay up all night by my side. Back then, she’d also make me milk and sing soft lullabies to help me sleep. Maybe Mom did love me, and it was only Dad’s rejection of me as a girl that made her ill, making her see me as a boy. Thinking this, with only me by her side, I felt I should be even more understanding of Mom. I obediently took the milk and drank it all. Under the warm glow of the light, Mom’s smile seemed almost blinding. “Good boy, Mom’s little man.” I blinked, trying to etch her tender expression into my memory. But in the next second, my vision blurred, and a sudden, intense dizziness washed over me. “Mom… please…” Before I could finish, my consciousness plunged into darkness. When I awoke again, it was to the harsh glare of blinding white fluorescent lights. I felt as though I was already on an operating table. I instinctively tried to struggle, but found I couldn’t move. Looking down, my wrists and ankles were strapped to the table! An indescribable terror instantly enveloped me. Through the haze, I saw Mom’s back and immediately cried out for help! “Mom, save me!” Mom noticed I was awake. She turned, a bright smile on her lips. “Sweetheart, you’re awake?” She reached out and stroked my hair. “Don’t be scared, it’s just a small procedure.” “But you promised me we wouldn’t do the surgery yet… You lied…” I sobbed, struggling for breath. Mom looked at my tear-streaked face, and tears welled in her own eyes, but she didn’t stop anything. “Don’t blame Mom, Mom is doing this for your own good.” “Look, how can a boy have these things? It’s a deformity. Mom has to help you correct it. Once it’s gone, you can be a real boy, and Dad will love you.” As the doctor burst through the door, scalpel in hand, approaching me, I finally couldn’t take it anymore. I screamed through my tears: “Mom, I’m a girl! Look at me!” I hoped Mom would hear my voice, snap out of her delusion, and save me. But she just shook her head, confused, stepping back, one step at a time. “Alex, what are you saying? You’re clearly a boy.” “You’re your father’s favorite son, your grandmother’s favorite grandchild.” “You’re meant to carry on the family name, continue the lineage. You are the pride of our family.” I desperately reached out to Mom, begging her to take my hand, to pull me from the cold operating room. “Mom, I can pretend to be a boy, I can pretend my whole life, please don’t…” But as the anesthetic was pushed, a wave of dizziness suddenly hit, quickly dragging me into darkness. I don’t know how long I slept. When I woke again, the first thing I felt was a sharp, intense pain. I looked down at my chest, wrapped in white bandages, flat as if nothing had ever been there. In that moment, my mind was utterly blank. I didn’t know exactly what I had lost, only a vague, sinking feeling that something was irrevocably gone. The door to the room gently pushed open, and Mom walked in, a radiant smile on her face. “Awake? Mom made you some chicken soup to help you recover.” “Alex, from now on, you’re a proper boy.” Looking at her satisfied smile, I wanted to smile too, but my face felt frozen. She spooned chicken soup to my lips, and I mechanically opened my mouth, obediently drinking it. The soup was fragrant, but my mouth tasted bitter. I couldn’t taste anything. Mom continued to chatter, saying that once my wounds healed, she’d take me to play basketball and go swimming. I listened numbly, when suddenly, a heavy, dragging pain shot through my lower abdomen. Pushing Mom away, I jumped out of bed and rushed to the bathroom, locking the door behind me. It wasn’t until I saw the crimson stain on my pants that a jolt went through my mind, and my hands started to tremble. How absurd. I’d just had a female organ removed, just accepted I was to be a boy. But the proof of my femininity had reappeared. What was I supposed to do? Was I a boy, or a girl? “Alex? Are you alright?” Mom’s voice came from the door, like a death knell. “I’m… I’m fine.” I quickly calmed myself. If Mom knew I had my period, she’d force me to have another surgery! “I just have a stomach ache, I’ll be fine soon!” I secretly discarded the blood-stained clothes, pretending nothing had happened. Then, I pulled out the allowance I’d saved for a long time and went to the convenience store. “Um… could I get a pack of sanitary pads, please?” I mumbled. The owner, head down, looking at her phone, casually handed me a pack. Like a thief, I slipped back into the restroom, intending to follow the instructions. But when I opened the package, I saw it read: ultra-thin pantyliners, daily use. This didn’t seem… quite like the ads on TV. But I didn’t have any more allowance, so this would have to do, right? I tried to stick two pantyliners side-by-side, but they ended up crooked and uneven. Walking along, I was on edge, terrified someone would notice something amiss. As if tempting fate, my first class back at school was gym. I gritted my teeth, jogging slowly with the group, but I gradually felt the heavy ache in my lower abdomen growing more intense. “Hey, look at Alex!” A girl shrieked behind me, pointing at my pants. “Isn’t he a boy? How can he have a period?” “What boy? He’s just some gender-bender freak, you haven’t seen his… down there…” “So disgusting, how can someone like that be in this school?” My face burned scarlet. I wanted to retort, but no sound came out. I knew that when I enrolled, Mom had registered my gender as “male.” I had no way to argue. The damp pants clung to me, and the whispers of my classmates grew louder and louder. I felt the stares from all directions, like countless slaps across my face. The moment the bell rang, I immediately clutched my legs together and rushed into the boys’ restroom. Thankfully, I had brought extra pantyliners. I should have enough time to change before class. But just as I closed the stall door, it was kicked open from the outside! “Well, well, well, look who it is? Isn’t it our school’s big celebrity?” It was Roy, the school bully. He usually loved picking on people, and now he was watching me with keen interest. I instinctively covered my pants. He saw my movement, and his eyes suddenly lit up. “What are you hiding? Let us see, buddy!” “Let me out!” I tried to escape, but he shoved me back. “What’s the rush?” Roy said, stepping closer with a triumphant smirk. “Tell us, are you a boy or a girl? Give everyone a show!” “No!” I clung to my pants with all my might, but Roy was incredibly strong! With a tearing sound, my pants ripped straight open! Just then, I heard a woman’s shrill voice from outside the restroom. “What? You’re saying a pervert sneaked into the boys’ restroom?” “Hmph, I’m going to take pictures with my phone right now and teach him a lesson!” My heart seized. If I was photographed and labeled a pervert, my life would be over! I used every last ounce of strength, shoved Roy aside, and, clutching my pants, burst out! But it was already too late. The moment I rushed out of the boys’ restroom, I was blocked head-on by the person at the door! The cleaning lady’s phone was pointed right at my face! The flash went off, and my mind went blank. I even forgot to raise my hands to cover my face…

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1 When I was eighteen, I was sexually assaulted. But no matter how many times I appealed, the perpetrator, with the help of a mysterious lawyer, always managed to escape justice. My mother, while delivering takeout, consoled me. “Trust me, sweetheart, bad people always get their comeuppance.” Though I was heartbroken, I was grateful for Mom’s presence, so I posted the video of her comforting me online. To my surprise, the video blew up the next day, with comments pouring in. “Isn’t your mom the most famous lawyer in the legal world?” “And you’re saying a lawyer couldn’t help you after being assaulted? Who could ever beat your mom?” Seeing this, I was about to confront Mom when I heard that nightmarish voice from behind her door. “You’re still the best lawyer, never made me set foot in court all these years.” Mom scoffed. “Cut the nonsense. If it weren’t to maintain my undefeated record, why would I be your defense attorney and harm my own daughter?” At the sound, my phone. It clattered to the floor with a bang. … Mom heard the noise and walked towards the door. “Is that Lily outside?” Her voice was as gentle as always, which made it impossible for me to believe that the lawyer hiding behind that man was Mom. The door opened. I looked into Mom’s eyes, my voice trembling. “Mom, what were you just saying?” Mom’s gaze avoided mine. “Nothing, Lily. You should get some rest. Mom needs to go deliver takeout.” I watched her hurried escape, and tears finally slipped from my eyes. I grabbed her clothes, asking, somewhat out of control, “Mom, was it really you?” Mom didn’t turn around, just kept repeating, “Lily, I don’t understand what you’re saying.” Then, she pulled her shirt hem from my grasp. My hands were empty, and so was my heart. I knelt on the floor, self-destructively scrolling through the video comments. “This isn’t really staged by this girl, is it? Her own mother won’t even help her.” “Maybe she provoked him.” “I knew it. Who just randomly assaults someone on the street? It takes two to tango, right?” Tears hit the phone screen, blurring the words and making it impossible for me to read what people were saying. “Ding-ding—” A message popped up on my phone. “Surprise, right? Your mother is my defense attorney. It wasn’t me who pushed you into the abyss, it was the person you loved most.” It was that man, Marcus. His words shattered my last shred of illusion, bluntly telling me that the person who had caused me so much pain for all these years was my beloved mother. I got up from the floor and started packing. I had to leave this place. But the moment I grabbed my suitcase and opened the front door, I regretted it. I wanted to give Mom and me another chance. She raised me, cared for me; I couldn’t believe she felt no love for me at all. I dragged the suitcase back, sat on the sofa, and waited for Mom to come home, to give me an answer. 2 Darkness slowly consumed me as I sat on the sofa. The door opened. Mom walked in, turned on the lights, and seeing me on the sofa, she jumped. “Lily, what are you doing sitting there?” I didn’t speak, just held my phone up to her. Mom’s face slowly reddened as she looked at the comments. “Lily, these people are all lying to you.” Although I had anticipated Mom’s reaction, at that moment, I still couldn’t help but feel a pang of sorrow. I nodded, then put the message that man sent me in front of Mom. “Is this also a lie?” Mom looked at me, her mouth opening and closing, unable to speak. I grabbed her clothes, crying as if my heart was tearing. “Mom, why? You knew everything! Why?!” Mom seemed to be lashing out in anger, or perhaps provoked by my disrespectful demeanor, and shoved me to the ground. “He didn’t have money for a lawyer; the court directly appointed me as his legal counsel! What was I supposed to do?!” I lay on the floor, looking at Mom. I had never seen Mom like this before: agitated, breaking down. She pointed at me. “Do you think I wanted this? Do you think I wanted him to win?! But I had no choice!” I sobbed, my voice choked with tears. “How could you have no choice? You clearly could have… could have given up defending him.” “That would ruin my hundred percent win rate, absolutely not!” Mom’s answer came without a moment’s hesitation. The speech I had prepared in my head was now impossible to deliver. Mom looked at me, head bowed in silence, and her tone softened a little. “Lily, I never intended for you to know about this. Now that you do, don’t appeal again.” I scrambled up from the floor, out of control. “Why! Are you going to strip away my right to appeal too?!” My voice was loud, but the tremor in it was unmistakable. I didn’t understand. In Mom’s eyes, did all my suffering, all this pain, mean less than her hundred percent win rate? Mom sat on the sofa, looking at me, standing in the middle of the living room, my face flushed with anger. “Do you think you can find a lawyer who can beat me? The money I gave you isn’t enough to hire a good lawyer, is it?” Her voice carried a hint of triumph. Triumph that she had long prepared for this very situation. The money she gave me wasn’t much, just enough for basic needs. Whenever I used to ask her for money for a lawyer, she would pull out a few crumpled hundred-dollar bills from her pocket and hand them to me, saying: “This is what Mom earned lately, working tirelessly delivering takeout. Take it and hire a lawyer. Mom will definitely make sure that man goes to jail!” But I would look at her hunched back, and only take a few bills each time. That money was never enough to hire a decent lawyer, but I never blamed her. I truly believed back then that she endured wind and rain every day delivering takeout, and every night I would feel guilty. It turned out it was all a lie. Tears flowed uncontrollably. “Mom, if you promise not to defend him next time, I’ll pretend I never knew any of this, okay?” 3 I pleaded humbly. I knew I should be running out the door right now, or at the very least, cursing her fiercely. But I still chose to beg, because she was my mother, and I knew she loved me. Her tears were real when she found out I had been assaulted. It was real, too, that she held my hand day and night, afraid I might do something drastic and leave her. So I was willing, I was willing to give her another chance. If only she would say yes. I looked at her with desperate hope, but she remained silent. My heart leapt into my throat. “No.” My heart shattered. She looked at my trembling form and said, “Lily, if I win, I can give you a better life. The past is over; let’s not dwell on it.” I don’t know why she thought the past was over for me. I backed away. “Mom, if you’re still going to defend him, then just pretend you never had a daughter like me.” She stood up, slamming the delivery helmet she was holding onto the floor. “How long are you going to keep this up?! Can’t we just live a peaceful life? It’s been years, hasn’t that incident passed in your mind?!” I was startled by her outburst. She actually thought that continuing to appeal was my fault. I didn’t want to talk to her anymore. Perhaps we were destined to cut ties. I pushed my suitcase towards the door. “Mom, I won’t give up. I don’t believe injustice can truly triumph over justice.” I opened the door. One foot had just stepped out when I heard Mom’s voice. “Lily Evans, if you don’t want me as your mother anymore, then leave! Once you go, don’t ever come back!” I didn’t hesitate. My other foot stepped out the door. Mom, you weren’t giving me a chance; I was giving you a chance. You didn’t take it, so now we only have this path. I closed the door, shutting out her voice. Dragging my suitcase downstairs, I suddenly didn’t know where to go. Was I really wrong? Should that incident really be ‘over’ for me? My phone rang again. That man had sent me another message. “Your mom told me you still plan to appeal? Heh, I’ll be waiting.” What followed were more obscene words. He said I wouldn’t win, that my failure would give more people like him confidence, that I would harm more girls. He said he still remembered how I tasted. My hands squeezed the phone tightly. How could it be over?! How could it?! 4 I blocked him. I wanted him to lose, for him and everyone with those vile thoughts to know the consequences of their actions. I took out my phone and filed the lawsuit again. I wouldn’t stop, not until the appeal period ended. But now I needed money. Enough money to hire a better lawyer. I dragged my suitcase, found a random motel, and started a livestream. Because of the video I posted tonight, I had gained quite a few followers. Many people joined as soon as they saw me go live. The comments were mostly about me, but I remained silent, waiting for the viewership to grow. Soon, it surpassed a hundred thousand. I finally began to speak. “Hello everyone. You probably know I’m the girl who was assaulted.” As soon as I said this, the comments section flooded even faster. Most people called me indecent, saying how could I even talk about such a thing on livestream. I ignored them and just told my entire story. Slowly, the speed of the comments slowed down, and my voice began to crack with emotion. I still couldn’t accept that my own mother was the source of my pain. After finishing my story, I paused for a moment, composing myself before continuing. “I’m not saying all this to seek pity. It’s just that I genuinely don’t have money to hire a lawyer right now. Can anyone help me? I can write an IOU and pay you back as soon as I start working.” Suddenly, all sorts of gifts filled my screen. The comments section was filled with people saying I didn’t need to pay them back. I cried and bowed to everyone. But truthfully, there were still many negative comments, which I ignored completely. Just as I was about to end the stream, there was a forceful knock on my door. I walked over and asked. “Who is it?” “Miss Evans… it’s… I’m here to bring you water.” It was the front desk’s voice, but for some reason, her voice was trembling slightly. I opened the door. It was Marcus. He held a knife to the front desk attendant’s throat. When he saw me open the door, he shoved her aside. He stormed in. “Damn you, you bitch! Do you have a death wish?! Who gave you permission to talk about this on stream? Don’t you have any shame?!” I knew why he was so angry. Because I had just directly said his name on the livestream. That little bit of dignity he had desperately tried to maintain, I had ripped it away. “You deserve it! If you hadn’t done those things, what would I have to say? Besides, you’re the one who should feel shame!” He took a few steps forward and grabbed my throat. “You dead woman, I’m going to kill you right now.” I fell backward, not struggling at all. Because I knew his assault would be broadcast completely live. This time, hundreds of thousands of viewers were my witnesses. I didn’t believe I would lose.

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On my sweet wife Alex’s 30th birthday, just before candle lighting, my husband Patrick and my best friend Chloe disappeared. After searching the hotel, captions suddenly appeared before my eyes: “Chloe is sleeping with the male lead to force the wife to find them. Smart.” “Go to the parking lot now! Wait—the car’s air conditioner is on. They might get carbon monoxide poisoning.” “Alex, move! Go save them!” I stood frozen, still processing what I was seeing, when my other friend Vanessa took my hand. “Let’s check the parking lot,” she suggested. The captions sighed in relief. “Good, someone is helping.” “Poisoning isn’t severe unless exposure is long.” I paused at that line—then turned back to the private room. “Let’s not go look for them,” I said. Vanessa’s face changed. “But they’re the most important people in your life. They should be here.” The captions panicked: “Doesn’t Alex adore the male lead? Why won’t she go?” “Without help, prolonged poisoning could kill them…” 1 I watched Vanessa’s expression change repeatedly, then chuckled. “You used to hate Chloe and my husband so much. What’s wrong? Today you’re more concerned about them than I am.” I didn’t know when Vanessa and Chloe had become partners in crime. One was my childhood friend, the other my college classmate, and they had always pretended to dislike each other. However, they were in complete agreement about me marrying right after college and becoming a trophy wife, never working a day in my life; they both thoroughly looked down on it. They also absolutely loathed my second-generation husband, who enjoyed his inherited wealth. Could it be… They wanted to get involved themselves, to save me from this mess? Thinking this, I looked at Vanessa with a grateful expression, silently resolving. I absolutely couldn’t let them fall into this pit of fire with me. I had to stop them, protect them. Vanessa averted her gaze, awkwardly hooked her arm through mine, and spoke softly. “How could I be concerned about them? I’m worried about you. It’s your big day today, and those two are both missing…” She didn’t continue, but her meaning was all too clear. But how could I understand? I just smiled, pulling Vanessa towards the private room. “It’s nothing. They’re adults; what could happen?” “Our friends are still in the room. We shouldn’t keep them waiting.” Vanessa froze for a moment, then forced an awkward laugh. “Well, I… I’ll go to the restroom.” “Remember how we always went to the restroom together in school?” Saying this, I linked arms with Vanessa and walked towards the restroom. As I walked, I calculated in my mind. I had to stick close to Vanessa. What if she tried to contact Chloe, found she couldn’t, and went to the underground parking lot to check the situation? And my other friends, once we returned to the room and cut the cake, the birthday party would be over. If they went to the parking lot and saw Patrick’s car with the engine running, they would definitely approach it. My friends are sacrificing themselves for me; how could I let their reputations be ruined? I absolutely couldn’t let anyone discover them prematurely. I secretly made up my mind, desperately strategizing in my head. My brain isn’t used to this much work. I don’t know if my plan will work, but I have to try. 2 Vanessa emerged from the restroom, her eyes filled with worry, and jumped when she saw me standing by the door. She extinguished her phone screen, pretending to calmly wash her hands. I patiently watched her dry her hands, pick up her phone, and slowly walk out. After just a few steps, she hesitated and spoke. “I suddenly remembered, I prepared a gift for you. I’ll go to the car to get it.” The captions reacted instantly, praising Vanessa frantically. “This is the female lead’s good friend, a master of improvisation! Thankfully, she’s smart and noticed something was wrong.” “What’s wrong with Alex?! Didn’t she reach the point where she was supposed to expose the male and female leads’ affair? Does she know something and is deliberately stalling?” “This woman is truly vicious. Does she want them to die from lack of oxygen?” “Carbon monoxide poisoning for more than an hour or two can cause brain damage, and longer exposure can really be fatal!” “What do I do, what do I do?! I wish I could beat Alex senseless right now.” I grabbed Vanessa’s arm and forcibly dragged her towards the private room. “Are you trying to run away too? Then there really will be no one for my thirtieth birthday candle lighting. A gift is a small matter; staying with me is a big one!” Pushing open the private room door, my friends complained in feigned annoyance. “What’s going on? You left us here, and you both ran off.” “Patrick and Chloe still aren’t back. Oh well, never mind them.” “Quick, quick, birthday girl, everyone’s waiting for you to light the candles!” Saying this, they brought the cake in front of me. I looked at the cake with lit candles, feeling no joy. My friends were beaming, ready to sing, when I spoke softly, my voice dull. “I know everything.” Everyone froze, looking at each other. Only Vanessa’s face flashed with a hint of panic. Everyone asked me, “Know what?” I looked up, my eyes fixed on Vanessa, approaching her step by step. “I know…” “Patrick cheated on me with one of my best friends.” Seeing me approach, Vanessa blinked, her voice rising a few octaves, her tone flustered. “Don’t jump to conclusions just because Patrick and Chloe aren’t here right now. If you’re really suspicious, I’ll go with you to the parking lot to check.” The captions exploded at this point. “What the heck does this dramatic woman mean by saying that? Does she know?” “She definitely doesn’t know. This is clearly a trick to get her friend to confess, but the friend is smart, neither admitting nor denying, and leading Alex to the parking lot. Such a clever friend.” “Is anyone checking on the parking lot? They’ve been unconscious for twenty minutes now.” “It’s okay, the friend has already noticed something is wrong and will definitely go check the situation.” I froze for a moment at the captions. Is that right? She’ll notice something is wrong and go check the situation? That won’t do. I’ll protect my friend’s reputation with my life! 3 I grabbed a glass of red wine from the table and drank it in one gulp. Then, meeting her eyes, I feigned seriousness. “It’s you, isn’t it, Vanessa.” “What?” She looked utterly bewildered by my question. My friends around us gasped, exchanging glances. “I saw the messages Patrick sent. The person on the other end used a burner account, but the messages hinted at being my best friend.” “Who else could it be but you?” Vanessa took a step back, then immediately blurted out. “Chlo…” Slap! Her face snapped to the side instantly. She covered her cheek, looking back at me in disbelief. I frantically apologized in my heart, but no one could hear it. The captions instantly went wild. “This woman is crazy, she actually dared to hit her.” “Oh my god, no wonder the male lead fell for Chloe. Her usual demure wife persona, her gentle and virtuous act, it’s all fake. I can’t stand it.” “What the hell does she want to do, this madwoman.” “Upstairs, you and the friend are both being misled by her! The point isn’t what she wants to do, the point is the male and female leads poisoned and passed out in the car!” “It’s okay, it’s okay. The optimal rescue time is four to six hours. No matter how crazy she gets, she can’t be crazy for six hours, right? The party will eventually end, and once it does, everyone will definitely notice them. There’s still time, there’s still time.” Still time? Ahhh! For my friend’s reputation, I had no other choice. Slap! I slapped Vanessa across the face again. She glared at me, disbelief still in her eyes, but still didn’t retaliate. To be honest, I was still a little confused. Vanessa wasn’t someone who would silently endure being hit. From childhood, she was always the one bullying others. On the contrary, Chloe was the one who suffered bullying in silence. In college, her roommates isolated her because of her poor family background. She remained silent. As class president, I discovered the situation and proactively helped her mediate with her roommates. Later, I also helped her apply for scholarships, find internships, and introduced her to my friends. When her mother forced her to return to her village to marry, I stood up for her and offered financial help. So I was so good to her, and now she and Vanessa were teaming up to rescue me from this pit of fire, which was her way of repaying my kindness. Thinking this, I was even more determined to protect her reputation and safeguard her. Seeing me still, my friends thought I was drunk and came over to mediate. “You’re drunk, Alex. If something’s wrong, talk it out. Don’t resort to violence; it’ll look bad if it gets out of hand…” “Yeah, the situation isn’t clear yet, Alex, wait a minute.” Vanessa, seeing everyone speak up for her, lowered her head, tears welling in her eyes, and hid behind a friend. The next second, a human wall formed in front of me and spoke. “Enough, Alex. You’ve had too much to drink today. Don’t do anything you’ll regret.” I looked up at the person blocking my way, a handsome man. It took me a moment to realize it was Liam, Patrick’s good friend. Million-dollar salary, handsome, wealthy family background. No wonder Vanessa was interested. That’s why she hadn’t fought back this whole time, I realized. Actually, I had originally intended to stop there. After all, if I hit her too hard, what if I got arrested? But now. I decided to play the villain thoroughly and give my good friend a boost. My lips curved slightly, and I spoke calmly. “Get lost! Or I’ll hit you too.” Liam froze for a moment. He couldn’t believe I, who usually spoke in such a cutesy voice, could say something like that. I seized the opportunity to slip past him and slapped her again. Vanessa staggered back two steps. I looked at her. Her eyes were filled with hatred, yet she remained unresponsive. I saw my friend’s fragile appearance, and Liam’s disbelief. I secretly rejoiced. It seemed I needed to be even more aggressive. Slap! Another slap landed on her face. The captions were absolutely furious now. “This woman is sick. She keeps hitting people. Can no one stop her?” “Vanessa, stop pretending to be weak. Liam is being held back by this woman’s friends; fight back!” “I’m so mad, I wish I could jump through the screen and slap her back.” I saw her face was already swollen red and was about to raise my hand. She gritted her teeth and spoke. “Alex Miller! Don’t you go too far!” I smiled domineeringly. “I am pushing you too far, what about it?” She looked at Liam, who was being pushed out of the private room by friends, and completely dropped her act, lunging forward to pull my hair. I casually pushed her. And knocked all the leftover food on the table onto her. Clang, crash… She was instantly covered in grease, and leftover food dripped and clung to her white dress. Vanessa’s screams, the clattering of plates in the private room, and my friends’ shouts of dissuasion became a chaotic mess. It was hard not to draw attention. The waiter, seeing the scene, picked up the phone to call the police. My friends, seeing this, tried to stop him. I yelled and smashed two more plates. “Call the police then! I’m not the homewrecker! I’m not the one who should be ashamed.” I wanted the police to come. If the police came, no one would discover them in the underground parking lot. And my friend’s reputation would be saved. Within a few minutes, the police arrived. Vanessa and I, and everyone in our private room. We all got a complimentary trip to the police station. The captions were almost in tears. “What do we do?! Everyone’s been taken away! Is there no one left to discover our poisoned male and female leads?!” “It’s been over an hour already, my male and female leads…” “The male lead is such an idiot! Afraid of the cold, turns on the AC but doesn’t know to leave a window cracked? How did such a dumb person grow up?” “Don’t blame, don’t blame. Don’t be swayed by Alex. The male lead is a rich second-generation music student. It’s normal for him not to know physics, chemistry, and biology.” “I’m crying… My poor, precious female lead, she’s had such a tough first half of her life, and now she’s about to die just as she was about to have a good life?” “It’s okay, there’s still time. Even at the police station, it’ll be resolved in an hour or two at most.” At the police station, before the police could even ask questions, I burst into tears and lamentations. “Officer, it’s my birthday today, and my husband cheated on me with my best friend…” “I didn’t mean to throw a drunken tantrum, but I… I’m so upset. I’m sorry for causing you trouble.” The officer, hearing me say this and seeing my good attitude, softened his originally stern expression. “Even if you’re angry, you can’t hit people or smash things. Do you know they can get an injury report? If it’s serious, you could go to jail.” I nodded frantically. “Officer, you’re right. I’ll compensate the vendor for the damaged items; just give me the bill. As for hitting someone…” “Officer, one is my best friend, and the other is my husband. How could I not be upset? I was absolutely furious.” “I’m so sorry.” The captions instantly went furious, starting to play judge. “Oh my god, this woman is so good at twisting facts and playing innocent for sympathy.” “The police are being fooled by her. It’s okay, Vanessa is injured, she absolutely won’t accept a settlement! Let her rot in jail for ten years. I can’t stand her.” “Exactly, don’t let her off the hook. Send her to jail. Let’s see how she gets out of this one!”

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I’m blind, but my boyfriend, Ben, doesn’t seem to want me to regain my sight. So, without telling him, I secretly had my eyes treated. The day after I regained my sight, I discovered his secret. Behind Ben, dark purple tentacles stretched out. The sticky tentacles cautiously glided along the floor, invisibly wrapping around my ankles. Then, little by little, they turned pink. 1 “He’s hiding something from me.” I sat in a coffee shop, across from my friend and treating physician, Dr. Sam Riley. The “he” I spoke of was my boyfriend, Ben Hastings. “Why do you say that?” “I just feel… he’s been a little strange lately. His business trips are getting more and more frequent.” “And it seems like he doesn’t want me to regain my sight.” Sam dragged his chair closer, making a scraping sound. “Eliza, I think you’re overthinking it. Ben has invested dozens of state-of-the-art equipment in our hospital just to cure your eyes.” “When he’s not on business trips, he personally picks you up and drops you off for every follow-up appointment.” “And our conversations, besides you, are still about you.” Sam’s praises for Ben were endless. Who would have thought that three years ago, he regarded Ben as a monstrous threat? Saying Ben looked like some kind of “dark, brooding type,” and that he was only with me for “money and looks.” “But oh, if you’re talking about something strange, there actually is one thing…” “What are you two talking about?” A familiar scent of ocean breeze suddenly wafted beside me. It was Ben. I finished my coffee and smiled in his direction. “We were talking about when you’d arrive.” “Have you been waiting long?” Ben adjusted my collar, his cool fingertips brushing against the pulsing vein in my neck as he moved. I shook my head. “I just missed you.” Before Ben could respond, Sam first clicked his tongue, a little sickly sweet. “I feel incredibly radiant right now, so I’m out of here.” “Dr. Riley, take care. I’ve already paid the bill.” “Thanks, thanks.” I knew Sam’s perception of Ben must have become even more favorable. Although my perception of him was also very favorable. On the way back, Ben asked, “How were the results of this follow-up?” “Hmm… not very good.” I was lying. “It’s okay, we’ll take our time.” Having dated Ben for three years, I naturally recognized the sound. As he turned, he quietly let out a sigh of relief. 2 The next day, while Ben was at work, I dialed Sam’s number in the bathroom. —This was the only place in the house without surveillance cameras. “What were you trying to say yesterday?” “I heard from a nurse that Ben was seen talking with the new Dr. Carter recently.” “And both of them didn’t look very happy…” “Dr. Carter?” Sam stammered a little. “Yes, he’s a new urologist at our hospital. “But I don’t know much about him. He’s always kept to himself and doesn’t seem to have many acquaintances.” “So I couldn’t really ask him…” Silence. A moment later, Sam hesitantly spoke again. “Your boyfriend isn’t having it easy either…” I hung up the phone, feeling a bit annoyed and ashamed. After all, I was currently unemployed, stuck at home all day. I rested well during the day, so naturally, I was “energetic” at night. But was Ben entirely blameless? Who asked him to have such big chest muscles and such nice abs? It was practically an invitation. But what did this have to do with my eyes? Just as I was pondering, Ben’s call came through. “Did you have breakfast yet?” Whenever I was home alone, if I spent more than five minutes in the bathroom, he would subtly ask what I was doing. I feigned a yawn. “Yeah, just woke up, I’m about to eat. What about you, what are you doing?” “Just finished a meeting, have another one soon.” “So busy, tonight I…” Remembering my conversation with Sam earlier, I swallowed the words “I’ll treat you well.” “Tonight what?” “Tonight, let’s have a nice dinner.” Before Ben could reply, I faintly heard his assistant’s voice from his end of the phone. “Alright, that’s enough. Go to your meeting.” 3 In the evening, I habitually slipped my hand under Ben’s shirt to “warm up.” Less than two seconds later, I pulled my hand back. “Sweetheart?” Ben’s voice held a touch of confusion. He grabbed my hand and pressed it against his abs again. I squeezed. Felt so good. Then I pulled my hand back again. If I could see right now, I would notice Ben pouting, looking on the verge of tears. Sensing the deep sense of hurt emanating from Ben, I fumbled and pressed a heavy kiss on his face. “I’m a little tired. Let’s talk tomorrow, okay?” “Okay…” Ben didn’t press further, just adjusted his position to make me more comfortable. In my dream, I was in a damp rainforest, entangled by countless giant pythons. My calves twitched uncontrollably. The snake’s tongue glided across my skin, making a soft, sighing sound. Waking up the next day, I carefully touched my limbs and waist. They were clean, without a single mark. But was it really just a dream? “Sweetheart, I need to go on a business trip. I’ll be back in three days.” “Okay.” In just half a month, Ben had already been on four business trips. Noticing that I seemed a little down, Ben rested his head on my lap, his arm circling my waist. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. That project has been really busy lately…” “Once it’s over, how about we go on a trip together?” “Is there anywhere you’d like to go?” I thought of last night’s dream, but a different answer slipped out: “The beach.” “The beach?” Ben’s arm tightened. “Yeah, you know, I used to love diving.” “So I want to smell the sea breeze again sometime.” “Alright, the beach it is.” 4 While Ben was away on his business trip, I went to the hospital again. “You’re looking a bit too refreshed, aren’t you?” Sam clicked his tongue lightly. I answered expressionlessly, “I’m sexually frustrated.” Sam cleared his throat, clearly not wanting to continue that topic. “However, all your indicators in today’s check-up are excellent. Congratulations.” “Thank you.” “Aren’t you excited? You’ll be able to see soon.” “Very excited.” “Boring. But I actually thought you’d want Ben to be with you on such a crucial day.” I couldn’t help but rub the corner of my sweater. “I still feel he doesn’t really want me to regain my sight. So please keep it a secret for now.” The world after regaining my sight was somewhat magical. Countless colors vibrated endlessly, and amidst the chaos, gradually connected with the concepts in my mind. Like a puzzle piece, finally falling into its long-awaited empty spot at a certain moment. “Hey, can you see?” Sam’s face enlarged in my vision. To be honest, it was a bit distracting. Why wasn’t it Ben? “Yes.” “That’s great!” I smiled genuinely. “Thank you for your hard work these past four years.” “Oh, we’re friends. Just treat me to a big meal sometime.” “I want to walk around by myself.” Sam gave an understanding smile. “I get it.” I picked up the white cane beside me, let go, but then gripped it again. I tentatively took a step, experiencing the moment my shoe sole touched the ground with my eyes. One step, two steps. Drip. I turned my head and looked out the window. It was raining. 5 Ben and I first met on a rainy day. That day, I suddenly wanted to walk in the rain, so I only brought my white cane. But after walking a short distance, my path was blocked by an electric scooter parked on the tactile paving. Rain hammered around me, and my white cane felt like an oar floating on water, leaving me disoriented. A vast emptiness enveloped me, leaving me adrift. Strangely, I even felt an urge to throw away my white cane. But suddenly, the rain stopped around me. An umbrella shielded my head, followed by a faint scent of ocean breeze. “Hello, um, do you… need help?” The man’s voice was deep and magnetic, but his hesitant, stumbling speech made him sound awkwardly charming. Judging by his voice, he was probably about ten centimeters taller than me. I turned my head, slightly lifting my face, deliberately tilting my rain-drenched face towards him. The man’s breathing softened even more. “Yes, could you… could you take me home?” If you’re a bad guy, could you take me to your home? Lock me up. Or bury me. But he wasn’t. “Alright, um, forgive my intrusion.” He merely carefully circled my forearm with his cool hand, guiding my way. I could feel the glances that occasionally fell on me. Somewhat warm, yet not intrusive. “Here we are.” I stood at the door, tilting my head. “Would you like to come in for a bit?” “Would it be…?” “I’m alone at home, and I’m a little scared.” Even though I hadn’t eaten pork, I had seen many pigs run. In less than fifteen minutes, I had extracted most of Ben’s personal information. “So we live so close to each other, huh?” “Then, if you have time later, would you mind coming over to keep me company?” I changed into a silk nightgown, curled up on the sofa, and asked him. “Alright, yes.” From seeing each other once every half week, it gradually evolved into twice a day. Ben’s methods for pursuing me weren’t sophisticated, but they were heartfelt. Like a loyal dog, he’d offer me everything he thought was best. 6 “Are you… Eliza Shen?” “Unknowingly,” I had walked to the entrance of the Urology Department. The man opposite me was taller than I was, wearing a white lab coat, and I couldn’t clearly read the name on his badge. He wore rimless glasses, and his long hair was tied back. “Hello?” I still pretended to be blind. “My name is Noah Carter. I’m Ben Hastings’s, uh… friend.” It seemed he was the “Dr. Carter.” Seeing my “confused” look, Noah understood. “I’m a doctor here, just started working at this hospital recently.” “Ben and I were neighbors when we were kids, but we weren’t very close.” “So it’s normal that he hasn’t mentioned me to you.” Neighbor. I chewed on those two words in my mind several times. “Hmm… what was Ben like when he was little?” Noah opened his mouth, seeming to ponder his choice of words. We stopped at the hospital entrance. He finally answered my question. “My personal advice… keep your distance from him.” “What are you doing?” I was suddenly pulled into Ben’s embrace. He was still warm, having just gotten out of his car. Noah shrugged. “I only told Ms. Shen what I needed to tell her.” “And I also advise you to agree to our terms as soon as possible.” “Otherwise, more than just you will suffer.” After Noah left, I asked Ben, “Ben, what are you doing here?” “Came back early. Saw no one at home, thought you must be at the hospital.” “Did Noah say anything strange to you just now?” “No. He just started speaking when you arrived.” Seeing Ben’s furrowed brow because of Noah, I felt a little annoyed. I raised my hand and wrapped it around Ben’s waist. “Did you miss me?” Ben’s previously serious expression immediately softened. He gently rubbed his nose against my forehead. “Very, very much.” 7 When I woke up the next day, Ben had already gone to work. I rolled over, snuggled into his side of the bed, and turned on the surveillance footage. Although Ben hadn’t installed cameras in the bathroom, I had. I dragged the timeline to the moment he entered the bathroom. Ben, freshly awake, had slightly messy hair, his mature features looking a bit boyish. I watched him silently, with my headphones on, as he washed up and spaced out. At 6 minutes and 27 seconds, I saw what I wanted to see. A dark purple tentacle emerged from behind Ben, reaching for the bathroom door. Ben met the tentacle’s “gaze” in the mirror, his eyes filled with warning. The tentacle then timidly retreated, leaving behind a noticeable wet stain. Ben sighed in resignation, and began to wipe away the traces it left behind. I repeatedly dragged the progress bar. Watching it over and over. It wasn’t until my newly restored eyes began to shed physiological tears that I reluctantly turned off my phone. So this was Ben’s secret. So when Ben came home from work, I was already sitting on the sofa waiting. While Ben stood in the entryway, bending down to change his slippers, my eyes greedily traced him from top to bottom. Face. Back. Waist. Hips. Legs. If I ignored the tentacles that were already joyfully rolling around in front of me. Unlike the initial dark purple, the tentacles before me were now pink. Was it because they were happy to see me? How cute. 8 “By the way, Ben, I want to take a medicinal bath today.” “Why the sudden urge for a medicinal bath?” Ben approached, kneeling before me, looking up into my eyes. As he drew closer, the tentacles behind him gradually retracted. I lowered my eyes with a hint of regret. “Sweetheart?” Ben’s tone was filled with concern. After all, I usually took a medicinal bath once a month, but I had just taken one two weeks ago. “I just want to relax a bit, okay?” Ben, his ears turning red, agreed. “Okay.” He walked into the kitchen and brought out a glass of milk. “Drink your milk first. I’ll go run the hot water.” I nodded, taking a small sip of milk in front of him. Then, as he entered the bathroom, I poured the remaining milk into the potted plant beside me. Before long, Ben carried me into the bathtub. He tied a black silk ribbon over my eyes, covering my sight. He said it was to prevent the steaming heat of the medicinal bath from getting into my eyes. “Soak for a while first. I’ll gradually add the medicine.” “Mhm.” After a while, a familiar drowsiness crept in. I pretended to lose my strength, letting my entire weight press against Ben. At the same time, I used the movement to loosen the silk ribbon over my eyes. “Sweetheart? Eliza?” I didn’t respond. In the shadowy darkness, water was already overflowing. But I could no longer see below my waist. Pink tentacles crowded the bathtub, writhing continuously. So this was the “medicinal bath”? I slowly sank lower into the water, but a strong pair of hands supported my waist. A soft kiss and a whisper fell beside my ear. “Eliza, I love you.”

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1 After the divorce, I returned to my hometown, a broken man carrying my son’s ashes, and opened a small clinic. It had been ten years since I last saw Seraphina Vance. “Arthur, Leo’s back! I’ve come to take you home!” Her expression was solemn, even more earnest than when she confessed her love to me all those years ago. Leo, clinging to her arm, smirked, a brazen glint in his eyes. “Brother-in-law, I was too reckless back then, running away from home. It made my sister misunderstand you, thinking you forced me to my death.” “But she’s never truly moved on from you all these years. You shouldn’t be holding a grudge, hiding out here.” I stared at Seraphina, my face devoid of emotion. “Now that your beloved foster brother has returned, can I finally have my son back?” … Seraphina frowned, almost imperceptibly. “Arthur, I can apologize for what happened back then.” “You only lost a son and an arm, but Leo nearly had his reputation ruined and suffered out there for a full ten years!” “You need to let it go!” I opened my mouth, but the strength to argue had long left me. “You’re right. I’ve let it go. Please leave, both of you.” Ten years ago, the news that I, a dermatologist, had treated Leo for an STI leaked. In a fit of rage, Seraphina ordered her men to break my arm, destroying my career. “Leo is just a kid! How dare you slander his name, spread rumors that he had a venereal disease?” “Someone as malicious as you doesn’t deserve to be a doctor!” Soon after, she posted a video of me showering online. “Some people are constantly hooking up, can’t even wash off that disgusting stench of depravity!” Her parents, my in-laws, reprimanded her for going too far. Seraphina scoffed, “He slandered Leo and still refuses to admit it! Only by making him experience the pain of being slandered will he realize his mistake!” When it came to Leo, my in-laws remained silent. Overnight, our son was branded “the spawn of a deviant,” tormented at kindergarten, and became severely withdrawn. My reputation was ruined; I was fired from the hospital and vilified online. Frantic, I found the treatment reports, desperate to explain to Seraphina. But she didn’t even bother to glance at them, tossing them casually into the trash. “Still unrepentant, daring to forge evidence and continue to tarnish Leo’s name?” “What did such a pure and kind young man like Leo ever do to you, that you would so meticulously plot against him?” Leo, who had initially tearfully begged me for treatment, claiming he’d been accidentally infected by a promiscuous girlfriend and was filled with regret, now glared at me with venomous eyes. “Brother-in-law, I was only eighteen, still a child! How could you be so cruel to me?” “Do you have any idea how much harm those rumors caused me?” He buried his face in Seraphina’s embrace, sobbing. He claimed that on his way home from school, thugs would harass him, asking how much he charged for a night, and he’d nearly been assaulted by a drunkard… Seraphina’s face darkened instantly. She dragged me to the heart of the city’s bar district. “This trash is free to take!” “Men and women, young and old, no preferences!” “He can’t get pregnant, so no responsibility needed!” Countless drunken patrons, eyes gleaming, leered at me, their faces contorted in lewd smiles. I broke down, desperately clutching Seraphina. “No, you can’t do this to me! I really didn’t…” Her face remained impassive as she kicked my injured arm. The searing pain forced me to release her. “You need to deeply experience the suffering you inflicted on Leo!” “Don’t worry, this is just a small lesson, to make you remember!” “At the critical moment, the bodyguards will intervene!” She gently comforted Leo, walking away step by step. But once her figure disappeared, the drunken crowd surged forward like wild animals, tearing at my clothes. “No, don’t… help me!” I struggled wildly, reaching out to the bodyguards Seraphina had arranged. They merely gave a cold command. “Don’t kill him!” 2 I can’t recall how I ended up in the hospital. I only remember my colleague, tears streaming down her face, as she worked to save me. “How could Seraphina do this to you?” “She used to say you were the person she admired most, back when she was pursuing you.” I wanted to know too. How could the woman who once loved me so deeply inflict such cruelty? Why did she get to treat me this way? Battered and bruised, I was discharged three days later, a shell of my former self. I returned home like a zombie. Only my four-year-old son, seeing me, burrowed into my arms, his voice thick with injustice. “Daddy, all the kids pick on me! They call me the dirty man’s kid, they call my daddy…” I choked back tears, gently comforting him. “Little Ace, they’re lying. Daddy didn’t…” My son looked up, his eyes brimming with tears. “But everyone says you wronged Mommy. Many people saw your pictures from the bar online.” My heart lurched. I stared at Seraphina, disbelief warring with horror. “You… how could you…” I hadn’t been without my doubts. Perhaps, allowing those drunkards to brazenly assault me wasn’t Seraphina’s intention. Maybe Leo had acted on his own, and she was unaware. But now… I could no longer deceive myself. Seraphina frowned, a flicker of irritation crossing her face. “Leo only wanted to vent his anger, so he faked those photos and posted them online.” “Isn’t that what you did to him?” “When it’s your turn to be slandered, you can’t handle it? Then how dare you forge evidence to slander Leo?” I closed my eyes in despair, my heart completely broken. “Forged photos? Do you believe that?” “Do you truly not know what happened to me that night…?” Seraphina roared, cutting me off. “Enough! This matter ends here!” “Leo has decided not to pursue this further with you, so don’t be so petty and cling to it!” Perhaps to placate me, Seraphina sighed, then suddenly embraced me from behind, whispering, “Alright, I know you’re angry, I’ll make it up to you tonight.” “You know, even though Leo isn’t my biological brother, he’s been pampered since childhood and never suffered any hardships.” “As his brother-in-law, you shouldn’t be so petty with a child!” My body stiffened. The nightmare of that night flashed through my mind, making me tremble uncontrollably. I violently pushed Seraphina away, then vomited uncontrollably, retching until I brought up bile. Seraphina’s face turned ashen. “Arthur! What is the meaning of this?” “I haven’t even scorned you, and you dare to sulk and throw a tantrum at me?” “You malicious man, you’re filthy! And to think Leo was even worried you’d be angry, and persuaded me to comfort you…” Another pang of agony shot through my heart. So, her willingness to touch me was merely a task assigned by Leo? No, Leo probably just wanted her to see the scars covering my body, the damage inflicted by those drunkards. I completely lost the will to argue. “Since you detest me so much, let’s get a divorce.” I had married Seraphina with so much hope. Now, I yearned to escape this repulsive marriage with an equal measure of despair. Seraphina’s face grew even darker. “You are utterly irrational!” “All these years, I truly spoiled you rotten!” “Since you remain stubborn and unrepentant, I’ll revoke your privileges and give you time to reflect!” 3 Seraphina canceled my cards. Even though I had never spent a single penny from her black card’s supplementary account. The next morning, Leo beamed at the rows of limited-edition sneakers before him. “Sister, you’re the best!” He excitedly kissed Seraphina’s cheek. Seraphina dotingly ruffled his hair. “You silly child, isn’t it only natural for your sister to be good to you?” “Spending money on you makes me happy. You’re not like some people, who from beginning to end, show no gratitude and don’t know their place!” She curled her lips, her words laced with sarcasm. Then, she cast a cold glance my way. “What, finally admit you were wrong?” I nodded silently. I was indeed wrong, wrong to have loved her. Leo pouted. “Some people don’t admit they’re wrong, they just realize they’re out of money!” I offered no explanation, no rebuttal. Calmly, I produced the divorce papers and the bank card Seraphina had given me. “I have my own salary and savings; I’ve never spent a cent of yours.” “I will leave with nothing, taking not a single thread from the Vance estate.” “My only request is custody of Little Ace.” Seraphina froze instantly. “Arthur, you…” Leo secretly gloated, snatching the divorce papers to glance at them. Then he sighed, “Brother-in-law, why are you doing this? You know sister can’t bear to divorce.” “Even if you revealed your ugly true colors, for the sake of the child, sister would never kick you out.” “What’s the point of this charade?” I shot him a sidelong glance. “Shouldn’t you be happy that Seraphina and I are divorcing?” That way, no one would compete with him for his “good sister.” Leo instantly looked on the verge of tears, appearing utterly helpless. “Brother-in-law, what do you mean by that?” “I merely spoke the truth. How can you be so maliciously suspicious of me?” Seraphina’s face darkened. With a bang, she slammed her hand on the table. “Arthur, apologize to Leo!” I opened my mouth, a thought stirring within me. “Apologize? I can!” “Sign first!” Seraphina grew even angrier, grabbing the divorce papers and tearing them to shreds. “Put away your little tricks!” “Playing hard to get won’t work on me!” “I advise you to give up that fantasy! I will never let you succeed, and I will certainly not entrust my son to a scoundrel like you!” I couldn’t understand why she refused. Because of our son? Yet she herself had labeled Little Ace “the spawn of a deviant.” Because of feelings? Had she ever truly harbored feelings for me? However, since she cared so much for Leo… I took a deep breath, then pulled out a diligently collected file. “This is the evidence of Leo’s illness! And the surveillance video of him crying and begging me for treatment in my office, along with his treatment records…” Seraphina raised an eyebrow. “Are you trying to slander Leo again?” I said calmly, “Whether it’s slander or not, the police and the judge will give me justice in court.” “If you refuse to divorce, I don’t mind going to court to sue for divorce.” “Your breaking my arm and utterly destroying me because of his lies is proof that our relationship has fractured.” “A woman as morally bankrupt and ruthless as you doesn’t deserve to be a mother!” Seraphina scoffed. “Go ahead, if you dare. I’d like to see how you continue to lie in court!” However, at that moment, Leo suddenly snatched a fruit knife from the table and lightly cut his wrist. He cried and screamed, raging loudly. “Brother-in-law, are you not satisfied until you’ve forced me to my death?” Seraphina’s face instantly changed. She snatched the fruit knife away and frantically helped Leo up. “Quick, to the hospital!” I could tell at a glance that Leo was faking it. But Seraphina violently pushed me, her eyes filled with murderous intent. “If anything happens to Leo, you will never be forgiven, even in a hundred deaths!”

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1 The first thing my ex-husband did after his “rebirth” was to bring his illegitimate son home, demanding I send our biological daughter to the countryside. Cradling the drooling, developmentally delayed child, his eyes burned with fervor: “This is the hope of our family! He’s a genius who will win the Nobel Prize someday!” “As for that worthless girl, she’ll only divide the inheritance. Get rid of her!” I watched the illegitimate son, still playing in the mud, and calmly signed the divorce papers. My ex-husband didn’t know that in the last life, this illegitimate child only became a genius because I quit my job, slept only three hours a day, spent all our savings visiting renowned doctors, and painstakingly tutored him for twenty years. And my own daughter, neglected and abandoned, ran away from home early, only to become a financial titan controlling the global economy. In this life, since you treasure the “genius” who needs his diapers changed for two decades, then I’ll take my “worthless” daughter and become the mother of a global billionaire. … I swiftly signed the divorce papers. Noah Stone didn’t even glance at me. He snatched the drooling illegitimate child, Adam, into his arms, his eyes burning with fanaticism. In his mind, he saw the colossal headline from the last life’s newspaper: “Chinese-American Scientist Adam Stone Awarded Nobel Prize in Physics.” That was the supreme glory he had missed. In this life, he would never let me steal that honor again! “This is the hope of our family! He’s a genius who will win the Nobel Prize someday!” he declared, almost shouting at me. “As for that worthless girl, she’ll only divide the inheritance. Get rid of her!” I looked at the illegitimate son, still playing in the mud, and snapped the pen cap shut with a crisp click. “My passport, driver’s license, everything’s in my bag. See you at the courthouse tomorrow at nine.” With that, I turned and walked toward our daughter Aurora’s room. Noah scoffed behind me. “Take that worthless girl, you two can starve for all I care.” I didn’t look back. The door had barely closed when my mother-in-law, Clara Stone, burst in, her voice shrill. “Noah Stone! Are you mad? You’re just letting her leave like that? What about Aurora? Aurora is our Stone grandchild!” She moved to rush toward Aurora’s room. Noah stopped her, his tone impatient. “Mom! What are you yelling about! Didn’t you see Adam is sleeping? It’s just a girl, let her go, it’s less trouble.” Clara paused, but her voice didn’t quiet down. “That’s not the same! How can she, Elizabeth Vance, a divorced woman, raise a child properly? Aurora will suffer with her! Make her leave the child!” I pushed the door open, leading Aurora, who was already wearing her coat, by the hand. Aurora’s small face was calm, unlike a five-year-old’s. She just clutched my hand tightly. I looked at Clara. “The child is mine, and I have full custody. The agreement states it clearly.” Clara’s eyes widened. She pointed a finger at me. “Elizabeth! Don’t you dare act ungrateful! Our Stone family supported you for so many years, and now you think you can just fly off? Take our Stone bloodline away? Dream on!” She reached out to grab Aurora. I stepped sideways to block her, shielding Aurora behind me. “Clara, try to touch her again.” She flinched, intimidated by the coldness in my eyes, and retreated half a step. Noah impatiently pulled a card from his wallet and tossed it onto the console by the door. “Alright! Stop yelling! Elizabeth, this is for you. Fifty thousand. It should be enough for you and that girl for a while. Don’t bother me again.” The card slid a short distance on the polished surface, stopping at my feet. Fifty thousand. A pittance for a beggar. I didn’t even bother to bend down. I took Aurora’s hand and walked straight past the card, opened the door, and left without looking back. Behind me, Adam’s cries suddenly escalated, and Noah frantically tried to soothe him. “Don’t cry, baby, don’t cry, my genius…” The elevator doors slowly closed, cutting off all sound. Aurora looked up at me, asking softly, “Mommy, where are we going?” I knelt down and tidied her collar. “We’re going to our new home.” Aurora nodded, as if understanding, and said no more, just holding my hand tighter. I took Aurora back to the old house to pack our things. The home that once echoed with our mother-daughter laughter was now eerily silent. In the living room, Noah was awkwardly feeding Adam, spilling formula everywhere. He saw me, his brows furrowing into a knot. “Why are you back again? Just get your things and leave. Don’t disturb me with Adam.” I ignored him, walking straight into the bedroom and pulling out two of the largest suitcases. Clara followed me in, hovering like an overseer. “Elizabeth, I’m telling you, this house belongs to my son. You won’t take anything extra from here.” Her eyes scrutinized every item I packed. I folded Aurora’s and my clothes one by one and placed them in the suitcase. “These were all part of my dowry before we married. This jewelry set was left to me by my mother.” I pointed to a box on the dressing table. Clara immediately pounced, pressing down on the box. “What ‘left to you by your mother’! Once it enters my Stone family’s door, it’s our Stone family’s property! You want to take it? No way!” Her hand gripped the box tightly. I stopped what I was doing, stood up, and watched her silently. She got a little spooked by my stare but still refused to let go. “What are you looking at! Am I wrong? You’re a woman who’s being thrown out; do you really think you can take such valuable things?” I didn’t argue with her. I just quietly took out my phone and started recording. “Say that again. Whose property is this?” Clara froze for a moment, then burst into a tirade. “It’s the Stone family’s! What can you do to me!” I put my phone away, no longer looking at her, and continued packing other things. A picture frame fell to the floor, the glass shattering. Inside was a photo of Aurora and me at the beach. Aurora walked over, carefully trying to pick up the photo. “Don’t touch it; you’ll cut your hand.” I pulled her back. Noah, hearing the sound from the living room, shouted impatiently, “Elizabeth! Can’t you hurry up! You’re dawdling, and if you break something, can you afford to replace it?” I pulled out the photo from the frame, untouched by the shattered glass, and slipped it into my pocket. Then I swept the empty frame and scattered glass into the trash. Clara, seeing that I was ignoring her, started yelling again. “Did you hear that? My son wants you to hurry up and leave! Don’t be an eyesore here!” I zipped up my suitcase with a dull thud. With a suitcase in each hand, and holding Aurora’s hand, I walked toward the door. As I passed the living room, I saw Adam throw his baby bottle on the floor and reach for a set of car keys Noah had forgotten on the coffee table, preparing to put them in his mouth. Noah, oblivious, was still engrossed in a “Genius Early Development Guide.” I walked straight out, not looking left or right. The door slammed shut behind me. I didn’t care if that child swallowed the keys, nor if that man could nurture a genius. I rented a small one-bedroom apartment in the city’s old town. Compared to the spacious, bright riverside apartment at the Stone’s, this place felt like a pigeon coop. Aurora, however, was very composed. She put down her small backpack and carefully surveyed her new “home.” “Mommy, where’s my bed?” I pointed to the small bed by the window, covered with a new cartoon bedspread I’d bought. “That will be your bed from now on.” She nodded, climbed onto it, tested it out, then flashed me a smile. “It’s soft.” My heart softened instantly. It was late by the time we settled in. After I told Aurora a bedtime story, she quickly fell asleep. I sat on the creaky sofa in the living room. My phone vibrated. It was a message from my friend, Lena Hayes. “How are things? Found a place to stay? Do you have enough money?” I replied that everything was fine, and then there was nothing more. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to say more; it was that I didn’t know where to begin. I opened my mobile banking app, looking at the paltry savings in my account, then remembered the card Noah had tossed on the floor. A wave of helplessness washed over me. I had to find a job quickly. Just then, my phone rang. It was Noah. I slid to answer, but didn’t speak. His voice, muffled with suppressed anger, came from the other end. “Elizabeth, did you take the washing machine manual?” I paused. “No.” “Then how do I use this new front-loader? My mom can’t figure it out; she’s getting water everywhere trying to do laundry!” “There’s a QR code on the door. Scan it for the digital manual.” “I don’t have time for that! You come back now and show my mom how to use it!” he ordered, as if it were his right. I was silent. In the last life, it was always like this. No matter where I went, he always found a way to drag me back to deal with the messes he and his mother couldn’t handle. And every single time, I softened and went back. “Noah Stone, we’re divorced.” I said, and hung up. My phone immediately began ringing incessantly. Annoyed, I kept hanging up, eventually just turning it off. I walked into the room, looking at Aurora’s peaceful sleeping face. The last vestiges of helplessness in my heart vanished. In this life, I would only live for her.

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