I was diagnosed with chronic endometriosis, and the doctor said that getting pregnant might ease the symptoms; otherwise, a hysterectomy might be my only option. But ever since Ethan regained his sight, he’s barely touched me. He just gives me a quick kiss on the forehead, saying he’s too tired. I tried to be understanding, figuring he must be worn out from work at Sunset Therapeutics. But then, one night, after he turned over, facing away, I heard him mumble: “You know, maybe you should go to Revive Aesthetics and ask about that laser scar removal thing, see if they can do anything.” I froze. It had been so long since I’d felt that sting of shame, flushing my face hot and cold. But more than shame, I was in shock. Was Ethan… repulsed by my face? My name’s Grace Holloway, and I’m 28 years old. My husband, Ethan Rivers, is a blind massage therapist, three years younger than me. We met through a matchmaker service. I had been burned in a house fire, leaving a scar that stretches down the side of my cheek and neck—a deep, twisting mark that used to make me shudder. I delayed marriage because of it. My parents, traditional as they were, finally encouraged me to use Matchmaker Services and meet Ethan. The matchmaker, thrilled, had told us our names were a match made in poetry. Ethan and Grace—it sounded like a pair meant to be together. “Just think,” she whispered to me, “he’s blind. He can’t even see your scars, so he won’t mind.” Ethan didn’t know about my scars. That made him even more accepting when he heard my background and circumstances. He was gentle and kind, and he had a way with the guitar, playing in the lobby while I’d sing for our clients, my voice unexpectedly clear and ringing. Our regulars even joked we were “the perfect harmony.” Life had closed doors for each of us, but meeting filled what had been missing. To most people, we were both tragic and enviable at the same time, as though we’d each found our soulmate despite fate’s challenges. Ethan hadn’t been blind since birth; an accident in a factory left his eyes permanently damaged from severe light exposure. For years, despite no medical progress, I’d still take him from doctor to doctor, hoping someone could help. After he lost his sight, Ethan learned the art of massage, and I left my job to support him, running the business side of Sunset Therapeutics. “Grace, I love you. I’d give anything to see your face…though I know I never will.” He used to touch my face, tracing my features with gentle fingers, that soft smile of his almost sorrowful. With no family left, I knew I was his only support in the world. Holding his hand to my cheek, I secretly made a promise to myself: I would do everything possible to restore his sight. Maggie, my best friend, warned me in quiet moments that Ethan’s good looks were bound to spell trouble if he ever regained his vision. Sometimes, I worried she might be right. But I’d forget it every time I saw Ethan’s daily struggle. All I wanted was his happiness and peace. One day, as I served him his favorite food—a bit of fried tuna eye, cooked just the way he liked it—I told him softly, “If you could see again, that’d be wonderful. But even if not, isn’t our life good as it is? Being able to see would just be icing on the cake.” Ethan nodded, shyly. He always relied on me without question, never starting a fight. Maybe it was all the prayers, or the endless doctor visits, or maybe even the fish eyes he’d been eating. Because, one day, he could see again. It happened when he accurately reached for a toothpaste tube that had fallen to the floor. Overwhelmed, I waved my hand in front of him. “Ethan, you can really see me?” I was in the kitchen, cooking while wearing a mask to avoid the fumes, as we hadn’t gotten a proper exhaust installed yet to save money. He rubbed his eyes, his excitement spilling into a loud shout. Then he asked me to remove my mask, eager to see me for the first time. “Grace, you don’t know how I’ve dreamed of this moment. Your voice is so sweet…you must be beautiful, I…” I froze, holding onto my mask. It hit me then how terrified I was of him seeing my face. The structure of my features was fine enough, but time had eroded whatever youth I’d once had. And of course, there was that long scar running along my cheek. Before I could think, he’d pulled off my mask, impatient. “Honey!” The ugly scar was exposed in the smoky kitchen air, and time seemed to freeze. My heart sank as I saw, in Ethan’s clear blue eyes, an unmistakable flicker of disappointment. Didn’t he know I’d once been beautiful too? Ignoring the tears prickling my eyes, I turned back to the stove, where the tuna eyes had burned, black and sticky at the bottom of the pan. They looked horribly unappetizing. “Don’t worry about it, honey,” Ethan murmured, wrapping his arms around me from behind and burying his face into my neck. “I still love you. Don’t doubt it.” The tears spilled over then, feeling both relieved and vulnerable in his embrace. Gathering my courage, I told him about my health condition. The doctor had recently diagnosed me with chronic endometriosis, a common issue, he’d said, for women. Getting pregnant might relieve the symptoms; otherwise, surgery might be the only option. The surgery was mostly effective, though it would nearly eliminate my chance of ever having kids. Embarrassed, I explained, “With you being blind all this time, we always used protection. We just didn’t plan on a baby.” There was a hint of longing in my voice, a hope I’d buried until now. I had once prepared myself to be childless my whole life, solely focused on supporting Ethan. He only nodded, barely smiling, though I saw his gaze linger on my scar. In the days that followed, he was more attentive, even helping with the housework. I began trying everything to get pregnant—lying with my legs up against the wall for half an hour each night, drinking herbal teas I could barely stomach. Ethan adjusted quickly to his new life, as if he had never lost his sight at all. But slowly, I began to notice something was off. It all started one evening after a familiar client had come by. Her name was Brittany Monroe. She was around twenty, beautiful, and striking, especially with her exaggerated curves. During one chat, she’d casually mentioned her breast enhancement. “In my line of work, you know, it’s all about looks and body. You have to look the part to work in public relations.” She’d said it without a thought, despite my scarred face. She had chronic back pain and often visited our massage parlor. This time was different though—Ethan could finally see her. It happened to be my ovulation period, and that night, I turned off the lights and tried to reach for him, gently caressing his shoulders. “Ethan…” But he wouldn’t touch me, only kissing my forehead and saying he was too tired. I thought it was because he was overworked, and I understood, nodding my agreement. Then I heard him, turning over, muttering: “You know, maybe you should check in with Revive Aesthetics, see if that laser scar removal thing can do anything.” I was stunned. I hadn’t felt that shame in so long—it flooded my face hot and cold. But above all, I was shocked. Was Ethan repulsed by my face?

Ethan’s vision returned, and he was soon back in his social circles, fitting in as if he’d never left. I, however, became more withdrawn, changing from lively to quiet and distant. I even spent a painful amount on a custom prosthetic skin cover, applying adhesive every day to hide the scar. Every removal hurt like fire, but I didn’t regret it if it helped him see me as a bit more acceptable. “Grace, you’ve got a bit of a people-pleasing problem, don’t you?” Maggie chastised me, exasperated at my blindness to the situation. I stayed calm, as usual. “It’s okay. He’s just excited about seeing again—it’s bound to take some adjustment. Once I get pregnant, things will settle down.” I’d believed that having a baby would bind him to us, keep him from straying. Then, things began to spiral out of control, shattering every last defense I’d held up in our marriage. Ethan stopped showing up at Sunset Therapeutics as often, saying he didn’t want to “fake being blind” anymore. At home, he slipped into his old habits, going back to doing nothing around the house, and soon became glued to his phone and video games. I reminded him that staring at a screen wasn’t good for his newly healed eyes, but he only snapped back at me: “Don’t bother me! I finally get to see, and I want to take in all the beauty I missed. Let me enjoy it.” Beauty, indeed, and not just the beauty of nature. I pursed my lips. He didn’t know I was aware that each night, he’d scroll through social media, liking videos of attractive women. Seeing him prefer those women on a screen over his own wife lying next to him was a wound that bled fresh each time. That evening, as I was heading out, I mentioned offhandedly that Frank Hall and Brittany Monroe would be at the massage parlor, so I’d be going there in person. The moment he heard those names, Ethan suddenly seemed energized, getting on his bike and speeding off ahead of me. Surprised, I raised an eyebrow. He mumbled something about wanting fishing tips from Frank. I nodded, saying nothing, then headed inside to clean the massage tools. Ethan did talk to Frank about fishing tips for a bit, thanking him for all the fish he’d brought over the years. Then I heard the chime of the shop’s door. “Oh, wow, it’s pouring rain out there—I forgot my umbrella. So hot and sticky out,” came Brittany’s voice. She was our regular, the PR girl. Last time, Ethan still pretended to be blind while massaging her. But here he was, acting blind again. “Guess we’re getting a little rain blessing,” he laughed. She giggled, her perfume drifting through the shop as she replied, “Well, if this is rain’s gift, then you can give me my massage.” My instincts kicked in, and I peered through the crack in the door. Brittany was radiant, with designer clothes and flawless makeup. While I doubted she’d fall for Ethan, it wasn’t impossible that he’d fall for her looks. “Ethan, I have to run an errand. I’ll be back soon. Please take care of Brittany’s session,” I told him. Our only other employee had called in sick, so he was alone with her. Ethan didn’t even blink at me as I left. His face seemed flushed, his usual pale complexion touched with red. “Sure thing, honey.” When I left, I made sure to close the door and adjust the blinds, leaving nothing to chance. What he didn’t know was that I’d followed Maggie’s advice and installed a tiny camera to watch the shop’s main area. After leaving, I made my way to a nearby café, where I opened the video feed on my phone. There she was, easing off her black stockings, shrugging out of her jacket to reveal her waistline, and lying down on the massage table. I held my breath, unable to tear my eyes away from the screen. They started talking, laughing, and I saw Ethan remove his gloves, applying the massage oil with his bare hands. Usually, we required gloves for hygiene purposes. Then, my heart stopped at what I saw next. What began as a straightforward massage quickly turned into something more. I could see the blush rising on his face. Brittany moaned softly, “It’s so hot in here. Why don’t you turn on the fan?” I silently willed him to turn on the fan—there were two ceiling fans in the small shop. But he just told her, “The fan’s broken.” Though it wasn’t summer yet, the humidity was still intense, and I was dripping sweat sitting in the café. Brittany muttered, “Oh,” looking visibly uncomfortable in the heat. Then she asked, “Can you actually see?” Ethan shook his head, playing innocent. “No, ma’am. I’m as blind as ever.” “Good, because this heat is killing me.” And then, as I watched, speechless, Brittany casually unbuttoned her blouse, exposing herself to the “blind” massage therapist.

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My fiancé, Caleb, was diagnosed with late-stage cancer just before we were to be married. Lying in that hospital bed, he and his mother pleaded with me to give him a child, a continuation of his legacy. Feeling moved by our three years together, I agreed and soon became pregnant. But I never expected that he’d want a final rush of wild freedom, hoping to fill the world with his own descendants. My name is Lila Caldwell. I’m twenty-one, freshly graduated from college, and just wrapped up a three-year relationship with my boyfriend, Caleb Northwood. We were finally ready to walk down the aisle. Caleb and I couldn’t have been from more different worlds. My family was modest—humble even. My passion and violin skills helped me land a place at Huntington College of Music on a scholarship. Caleb, four years older than me, came from a wealthy background and had already started his own small business. After one of my school performances, he introduced himself, charmed, and asked for my contact information. From that moment on, he pursued me with an intense passion. It didn’t take long for me to fall for him—who could resist a handsome, well-off guy who seemed to have it all? My parents, always straightforward and unpretentious, adored him. They couldn’t stop praising my “well-matched” engagement, convinced that I was lucky to be “marrying up.” They didn’t even ask for any financial support from his family. But just as we were sending out wedding invitations, Caleb, after years of dining out and hosting endless business events, was admitted to the hospital with severe abdominal pain. And that’s when everything fell apart. The biopsy results came back, confirming late-stage colorectal cancer. I sat by his hospital bed, clutching Caleb’s thin, frail hand, sobbing uncontrollably. The doctors had done a minimally invasive biopsy, so his abdomen was tender, and he had an oxygen tube up his nose, looking pale and pitiful. Seeing my tears, he reluctantly reached out and touched my face with his rough, trembling fingers, trying to comfort me. “Lila, please, don’t cry,” he whispered. “This might be better. After all, we haven’t tied the knot yet… this won’t keep you from meeting someone new. You’re still ‘single’ on paper—that’s good, right?” I shook my head fiercely, nearly shattered by the shock of his words. We had planned to get married next month. It seemed impossible to me that such cruel news could be true. “No,” I insisted. “I only want you. Just stay with the doctors, and you’ll get better—I know it.” It was a feeble attempt at comforting him because I’d already been told he might have a year left at most. He didn’t respond, just brought my hand to his parched lips, brushing a kiss across my fingers. I forced myself to smile, trying to keep my tears in check as I whispered, “Remember? You promised we’d go to Vienna and hear the Philharmonic perform once you were better. We’ll make it our honeymoon.” Even as I said it, I knew it was just wishful thinking. But I couldn’t stop myself from dreaming out loud. Beside us, his mother, Margaret, stood by the bed, usually glamorous but now looking worn down from tears. She’d fainted more than once since hearing the diagnosis. “Lila,” Caleb’s faint voice came again. “After I’m gone… marry someone good. My mom has my brother, and she’ll be fine, but I worry about you the most.” It was heartbreaking to realize that even now, he was still thinking of me before himself. I couldn’t stop the tears from flowing. Feeling the weight of his hopelessness, I finally broke down, sobbing over the bed. After some time, when I had calmed a little, I whispered softly, “Do you have any other wishes? Whatever time we have, I’ll do anything to make it come true.” He hesitated for a long moment before speaking in a low, raspy voice. “Lila, I love you more than anything. My one regret… is that we won’t get to have a child together.” I froze, feeling tears catch on my cheeks. Because of my upbringing, Caleb and I hadn’t been intimate, even after three years of dating. So, did he mean he wanted me to have his child? Caleb looked at me tentatively, his expression both pitiful and vulnerable. “If you could… the child would stay with my mom. I’d arrange everything so they’d inherit my share of the company. No one else would ever need to know about it.” His request hit me like a punch. I was only twenty-one, and I’d been planning to go to Austria for music school in a few months. Just then, his mother, Margaret, broke down into sobs, falling to her knees in front of me. I was startled, rushing to help her up, but she gripped my hands, her face wet with tears, and begged, “Lila, I know you’re a kind woman. Please say yes to Caleb’s last wish. It would give us something to live for after he’s gone. I’m begging you…” I looked over at Caleb, feeling conflicted. Honestly, I didn’t want to bring a child into the world who’d grow up without a father. His expression was filled with quiet desperation, as though asking, “Lila, isn’t our love worth leaving a legacy behind?” “Lila, this child won’t ever hold you back in life. I promise. After the baby’s born, Caleb’s father and I will make sure you’re set for the future.” I admit, I was young and deeply emotional, and Caleb’s suffering overwhelmed everything else in my mind. So, in a moment of weakness, I agreed. Caleb pulled me into a tight hug, resting his hand on my stomach, as though he already felt a piece of himself growing there. After his insistence, Caleb was discharged early, and he planned for us to stay nearby at Blue Ridge Springs Resort, his idea of a honeymoon to start a family. I suggested getting legally married, but he cut me off sternly, saying it would only complicate my future. “I’ll never let us get legally bound,” he insisted. A flash of doubt crossed my mind—was it possible he didn’t want me to have any claim to his inheritance? But I quickly dismissed the thought. I could feel he was sincere. He kept mentioning how he’d make sure I was financially secure after the baby was born. Though money didn’t matter to me, I was moved by his thoughtfulness. On the third day, hiding the truth about his illness from my parents, I joined him at the resort. When the time came, I was nervous, deeply uncomfortable with the strange blend of duty and sacrifice rather than pure love. My first time was painful and unsettling, and he barely noticed, caught up in his own needs. Afterward, he even told me to lie on my back against the wall for half an hour to “help with conception.” We stayed at the resort for a few days. Caleb was surprisingly optimistic, even comforting me whenever I worried about his illness. “Lila, don’t be scared,” he’d say, “I’ve accepted things. Living is all about enjoying what you have.” So, I stayed true to my promise, never using protection. Sometimes, when his illness faded into the background, his energy made him seem almost healthy. Yet, his thinning hair from chemotherapy was a reminder that cancer’s grip was unrelenting. Finally, after weeks of effort, I stared down at the test stick in my hands. It showed two lines—I was pregnant. But instead of feeling joy, I felt a hollow ache. I could only sigh. I hoped he’d realize that I wasn’t doing this for any financial gain but out of love. His condition worsened quickly after that, and the hospital visits became frequent until the day he never left again.

After confirming my pregnancy, Margaret’s attention only grew, and she even hired a caregiver to help me. “Lila, that baby in your belly is all Caleb has left,” she’d say. “You have to take care of yourself.” Still, I took it upon myself to look after Caleb, making soups and stews to encourage his appetite. Years of growing up without much had made me resourceful in the kitchen. That day, I cooked corn and rib soup from scratch, as I always did, and brought it to him in the VIP ward on the top floor of St. Mary’s Medical Center. The VIP ward was fitting for Caleb’s family’s status. It was lunchtime, and the floor was silent, sunlit hallways stretching before me as I walked toward his room, carrying the food. Though I had given up on my dream of studying in Austria and a future in music, I felt no regrets. I was doing it for love. But as I approached the door, I heard something odd—soft voices from within the room. I froze, pressing my ear to the door. The voice was unmistakably his. He’d removed his oxygen tube, whispering intimately to someone I couldn’t see. “…Jenny, give me one last chance. Have my child, my last hope,” he pleaded breathlessly.

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Lucas, Gabriel and I have been childhood friends since we were little. Lucas was warm and cheerful, while Gabriel was cold and reserved. We grew up together until an uninvited guest entered our world of three. When Lucas came to find me in class, I was explaining a problem to Gabriel. Gabriel always had a calm expression, and his face rarely showed any emotion, like a block of ice. English was his weakness, and as his classmate and childhood friend, I had no reason not to help him since I was good at English. However, Gabriel didn’t seem to care much, and I wasn’t sure if he was really listening. He would only give a slight response when I reached key points. Lucas knocked on the classroom window and poked his head in with a grin, “Gabriel! Sophia! Wait for me after school, let’s go home together!” Gabriel looked up indifferently, “You came all the way here just to say that?” “Hehe, I just wanted to come see you guys. It’s not my fault I’m the only one not in your class!” Seeing our posture, with me leaning towards Gabriel, Lucas pouted, “My English isn’t great either. Sophia, when are you going to tutor me too?” I lowered my head and smiled without saying anything.

Lucas and Gabriel are childhood friends who grew up with me. We’re neighbors. When I was little, my parents were always busy with work and often couldn’t take care of me. The kind neighbor aunties would invite me over for meals. That’s how I met Lucas and Gabriel through our neighbors. Gabriel was often sick as a child and stayed at home a lot, without many playmates his age. When I went to his house for meals, his parents would always ask me to play with him for a while. Gabriel was cold even as a child, but he accepted all my friendly gestures. Eventually, I figured out his interests and would bring geography magazines every time I came to play with him. When it came to geography, he would talk a little more than usual. Of course, it was still just a little bit more. Getting to know a chatterbox like Lucas was even more natural. Later, I often went to Gabriel’s house with Lucas to play with him. That’s how the three of us grew up together and went to the same middle and high school. On the way home, it was often the three of us together. Lucas would talk non-stop about the interesting things that happened that day, while Gabriel walked quietly beside us, occasionally retorting. I often wished that these days could go on forever.

On the way home from school, when Lucas was waiting for me at the school gate, I saw the silhouette of another girl beside him. Emma, Lucas’s deskmate. When we entered high school, Lucas was assigned to a different class from us. Lucas met his new deskmate Emma, who seemed to be a very quiet girl. Emma came from a single-parent family, living with her mom, but was occasionally harassed and abused by her divorced father. Her tragic background immediately aroused Lucas’s sympathy. His sense of justice exploded, and he decided to help Emma. He even brought Emma along when hanging out with us, saying he wanted to help her make friends. From that day on, everything started to change. Emma was petite and quiet, with timid eyes like a little cat, easily arousing people’s protective instincts. She spoke softly and weakly, forming a stark contrast with my outgoing personality. When I got excited about something, my voice would naturally get louder. At these times, Lucas would pretend to be angry and glance at me, then protect Emma. “Can’t you lower your voice a bit! You’re scaring our Emma!” Emma’s unfortunate family background always made Lucas indignant. Even Gabriel would comfort her a few words and tell me to speak more softly. I frowned as I watched the two of them revolving around Emma, but couldn’t say anything. I had no reason to reject Emma’s joining. She was already miserable enough and didn’t have many friends at school. If I resisted her, wouldn’t I be a terrible person? I could only endure. Even when speaking, I had to lower my volume for Emma, who was easily frightened. I couldn’t talk about topics Emma wasn’t familiar with, otherwise, she would become sensitive and overthink. I could no longer laugh and joke around freely with Lucas, and Gabriel wouldn’t stand aside laughing and calling us crazy anymore. Now they would speak softly to Emma, having long forgotten how we used to interact so freely.

The four of us walked home side by side, and I remained silent. I don’t know when it started, but I stopped talking much when Emma was around. I didn’t know which of my words might touch Emma’s sensitive nerves, causing her to cry, followed by Lucas and Gabriel scrambling to comfort her. Lucas seemed to notice my unusual behavior and tried to ease the atmosphere by speaking first. “Hey Sophia, why don’t you tutor Emma and me in English sometime?” I glanced briefly at Lucas and Emma standing together. “We’ll see.” Lucas’s face froze slightly, not expecting me to refuse him. Emma timidly tugged at Lucas’s sleeve. Gabriel frowned and looked at me, “Are you in a bad mood lately?” “Mm, that time of the month.” I vaguely brushed them off while kicking small stones on the road. No matter what, I felt very uncomfortable about how our friendship had become. Especially when I saw Emma, I felt even more uneasy.

I don’t dislike Emma. If I disliked her, I wouldn’t have been so considerate of her family background and sensitive personality, carefully thinking before speaking. When the four of us eat together, I can’t even mention the restaurants we three used to go to, because Emma’s family couldn’t afford such restaurants, and mentioning it would make Emma feel inferior. That’s what Gabriel and Lucas said, so I didn’t want to argue. At first, it was just restaurants, but later there were more and more things we couldn’t talk about; our graduation trip to Japan, going to Disneyland together, surfing at the beach together… Lucas said that Emma had always stayed in a small town, her family wasn’t well-off, she had never been abroad, and didn’t have many entertainment options, so we shouldn’t mention these things to widen the gap between friends. Gabriel nodded in agreement beside him. Those beautiful memories were sealed in our hearts, never to be mentioned again. Lucas and Emma talked about interesting things in their class, while Gabriel listened quietly, occasionally making sarcastic comments like before. I listlessly finished the cola in my cup and chewed on the ice cubes. Noticing the sound, the other three all turned their gazes towards me. “Sophia, what’s wrong? You seem to be in a bad mood lately.” Surprisingly, Emma was the first to speak up, looking at me with concern in her pitiful eyes. Lucas and Gabriel both looked at me nervously. I suddenly felt very annoyed. I didn’t want to pay for someone else’s sensitivity anymore, nor did I want to become someone who couldn’t say anything. “It’s nothing, I just can’t join the conversation. It’s a bit frustrating.”

I saw Emma’s eyes instantly turn red. “I’m, I’m sorry, is it because I’m here, interrupting your chat? Then I’ll leave first…” Lucas frowned and stopped her, “What are you leaving for? Sophia wasn’t talking about you.” Emma’s eyes reddened even more, and a few tears fell. Lucas seemed to realize his tone was a bit harsh and softened his voice, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to yell at you.” He turned to look at me, “Sophia, you—” “I do find it quite boring, and I’ve had enough,” I interrupted him. “If we can’t say what we want to say when we’re with friends, what’s the point of being friends?” Lucas looked somewhat shocked. Emma was still looking at me with teary eyes. The atmosphere became very tense for a moment. Even Gabriel, the ice mountain, tried to save this awkward situation, “Um…” I stood up first, picking up my tray, “I’m leaving first.” There was no point in staying any longer, and Lucas and Gabriel wouldn’t necessarily take my side. There was no intense argument, but we began to fall into a cold war. Gabriel, who was in the same class as me, always seemed like he wanted to say something but was stopped by me every time. I’m not an unreasonable person, I just want them to see clearly that our friendship is now distorted and unhealthy. If we have to keep our mouths shut when chatting with friends, then what’s the point of being friends? I can only endure. Even when speaking, I have to lower my volume for Emma, who is easily frightened, and I can’t talk about topics Emma isn’t familiar with, otherwise, she’ll become sensitive and overthink. I can no longer laugh and joke around freely with Lucas, and Gabriel won’t stand aside laughing and calling us crazy anymore. Now they speak softly to Emma, having long forgotten how we used to interact so freely.

A new student transferred to our class, with beautiful eyes that were brown in the sunlight. His name was also nice, Noah, but he seemed a bit cold. Just like Gabriel, like a big ice cube. It happened to be time for seat changes in our class, and Gabriel and I were no longer desk mates. The new student became my desk mate. As soon as he moved in, I eagerly asked him, “Are you wearing colored contacts? Your eyes are so beautiful!” Noah obviously didn’t react, he was stunned for a moment, “Thanks?” I gave him a big smile, “Hi, I’m Sophia.” Noah nodded, his expression still unchanged, but unlike Gabriel, he didn’t seem to have such a strong sense of distance. Or to put it another way, his aloofness wasn’t due to coldness, but rather revealed a hint of scholarly air. I noticed Gabriel, who was arranged not far behind me to my left, was looking at me, but I didn’t turn back to look at him. “Sophia.” Noah tentatively called my name, and I turned back to look at him. He actually showed a faint smile, “Your name is really nice.” I stared at him blankly. This must be what it’s like when an iceberg melts. Although they were both cold-faced handsome guys, Noah and Gabriel gave very different impressions.

Lucas brought Emma to find me in class. As usual, he opened the window next to my seat, but he didn’t expect that the person sitting beside me was no longer Gabriel. Noah looked up at him with a puzzled expression, “Who are you?” … Lucas was quite embarrassed until he saw me sitting nearby, and his eyes brightened. “Sophia! I… we have something to tell you.” I looked up and saw Emma standing behind Lucas, looking very dependent on him, and I couldn’t help but feel annoyed again. “Class is about to start.” Lucas’s face instantly fell, “Sophia, are you, are you still angry?” I didn’t want to answer at all. The moment I saw Lucas and Emma appear together, when I heard Lucas say “we”. I clearly understood that the problem between us couldn’t be solved by a simple apology. “Classmate, there are two minutes left before the bell rings.” Noah seemed to sense my resistance and spoke up to reject Lucas for me, even closing the window. Lucas glanced at Noah with some annoyance before leaving with Emma. I thanked Noah, feeling very confused inside.

gradually became more familiar with Noah. We were desk mates, and since he was new and had many questions, I patiently answered them all and even took him on a tour of the campus. His science grades were very good, but his liberal arts subjects were terrible. So I started explaining English to Noah, and in exchange, Noah promised to help improve my math scores. I found it quite surprising. Before, when I was tutoring Gabriel, I just considered it as help between friends. Gabriel, who was equally excellent in science, never offered to help improve my math. At the time, I didn’t think much of it, just feeling that I could help if I could. Now, getting feedback from Noah, I couldn’t help but make comparisons. As we interacted more, we became friends. Although Noah was as taciturn as Gabriel, he would seriously respond to every word I said. “Why is the answer A for this question?” “The question asks to choose the incorrect option.” “What class do we have next?” “Music class, we can catch up on homework.” “Noah, do you find me annoying?” I remembered that when the four of us used to hang out together, Lucas and Gabriel complained that I was loud and talked too much, saying I was too noisy and not as quiet as Emma, who spoke softly. Noah looked at me, “I don’t find you annoying. I quite like listening to you talk.” “Also, next time you can just call me Noah instead of classmate.”

I still walked home with Lucas and the others. After I gave them the cold shoulder last time, they solemnly apologized to me and said they wouldn’t ignore my feelings anymore. After all, we had been friends for so many years, and it wasn’t something that could just be ended. However, Emma was still following behind Lucas, always looking at Lucas and talking cheerfully. Gabriel became even more silent than before. After seeing my relationship with Noah progress rapidly in class, he finally couldn’t help but speak up, “Sophia, you’re tutoring Noah in English?” “Yeah, what’s wrong?” His expression darkened for a moment. “Noah? You mean that guy who sits next to you?” Lucas chimed in, sounding a bit displeased. “When did you get so close to him?” “It’s just classmates helping each other with homework, what’s the big deal? Besides, he said he would help me improve my math too.” To be honest, I found Lucas’s sudden anger a bit baffling. Lucas retorted, “If you want help with math, can’t you ask Gabriel?” Gabriel’s body seemed to stiffen for a moment. I lowered my head and replied, “I sit closer to Noah, it’s more convenient.”

Lucas continued to be dissatisfied on the way home, until we reached the entrance of our neighborhood and he went into his house first. I was about to take out my keys when Gabriel called out to me. “Sophia.” I stopped. He hesitated for a moment before slowly speaking. “When you were tutoring me in English before, I didn’t think about teaching you math in return. I took your kindness for granted. I’m sorry I didn’t consider it.” “Next time if you have questions about math, come find me.” I waved my hands repeatedly, “Don’t listen to Lucas’s nonsense. I really didn’t mind at all. Besides, I helped you with English voluntarily.” Gabriel looked at me steadily, “But I don’t want you to get too close to Noah, closer than our relationship.” “I think Lucas probably feels the same way, that’s why he was so unhappy.” I remained silent for a long time before looking up to answer him. “What’s the use of saying all this? Didn’t you guys let Emma join our group too?” Gabriel’s expression changed. “So, there’s nothing wrong with me being close to other people, right? If possible, I also plan to bring Noah into our circle. After all, he’s my friend too, just like Emma is your friend.” “But Sophia, Emma is different. Her family situation is like that, so Lucas and I just wanted to take care of her more, so…” “So, there’s a problem between us. You’re so smart, you must see it. An apology is just a step, the problem in our friendship hasn’t been thoroughly resolved.” I interrupted him. “Alright, let’s stop here for today. I’m tired, see you tomorrow.” “Sophia…” I blocked the words he was about to say and turned to go back to my own home.

I don’t have any opinion against Emma, nor do I deliberately exclude her. I still remember when Emma first joined us, how Lucas gently introduced me and Gabriel to her. Just like that, naturally, she joined our friendship of over ten years. I wanted to show her friendliness, so the next day I brought her some pastries from my favorite bakery. Unexpectedly, when she saw the price, she almost burst into tears. “Wuwuwu, my mom and I have never eaten such expensive pastries. Thank you, Sophia. Can I save this pastry for my mom?” We frantically tried to comfort her for a long time, but she still couldn’t stop crying. Lucas pretended to blame me, saying it was my fault for being too insensitive and making Emma cry. I knew he was joking to lighten the mood, but I still felt a tightness in my heart. Later, no matter what I did, they would protect Emma, telling me not to touch on Emma’s sad experiences. After all, her family situation was so unfortunate, she should be happier at school. I told myself it was okay, they had the right to make new friends. But when I found out that even Gabriel, who was usually so cold, was intentionally or unintentionally favoring Emma and trying to make her happy. I couldn’t help but feel sour inside. I seriously tried to avoid Emma and talked to Lucas and Gabriel about this matter. But Lucas didn’t care at all and said I was overthinking. “Can’t you be more understanding of Emma? Her family condition is so poor, unlike us who have everything we need.”

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After an arranged marriage, I suddenly had a 4-and-a-half-year-old son. Before meeting him, I was dreading it. I imagined a miserable life with a husband who ignored me and a stepson who pretended I didn’t exist. But when I saw that adorable little boy shyly calling me “Mommy” while clutching my shirt, I instantly melted. I even asked my husband, “If we divorce, can I keep our son?” My husband: “???” When my family’s company ran into trouble, my father didn’t hesitate to arrange my marriage to a successful businessman who already had a son. Of course, I was thrilled about this. After all, I was a committed bachelorette. If he already had a son, I wouldn’t have to worry about having kids in the future. Plus, he was a workaholic who never had time for his son. The boy was mostly raised by nannies. I figured I could just coast through life. My husband was a big CEO, so I wouldn’t even need to take care of the kid. The wedding was a small, simple affair without many guests. I didn’t see the child there either. True to form, my workaholic husband left for the office right after the ceremony. As he was leaving, he said, “I’ll be busy at work for the next few days.” “Ethan is already at home. Get to know him when you get back.” Ethan Quinn. That was my stepson’s name. My parents were divorced and I wasn’t close to my father. I didn’t take much when I left home – just a necklace pendant. “Mrs. Quinn, young Master Ethan is waiting for you in the living room,” the housekeeper cheerfully informed me as soon as I walked in. Ugh… was he going to try to intimidate me already? Whatever, I could handle a little kid. How scary could he be? But… Who was this adorable little dumpling sitting on the sofa?! So tiny! So cute! So squishy! While I was standing there stunned, the little dumpling toddled over to me. In his sweet little voice, he said: “Miss… Wilson, this is… a gift… for you.” It was a pink teddy bear. Even though the bear was bigger than him, he was still trying his best to hold it out to me. Despite this being our first meeting, he was so friendly towards me. I was incredibly touched and quickly took the teddy bear. Then I crouched down and gently held his chubby little hands. “Wow! Thank you so much, sweetie! I love it! Your name is Ethan, right? I’m your new mommy. No need to be so formal – we’re family now. You can call me Mommy if you’d like.” Oh my gosh, he was so cute! I just wanted to hug him! That jerk of a husband of mine was truly heartless to neglect such an adorable boy. My poor son had it so rough! Yep, from now on, he was my own son! The little dumpling seemed surprised by what I said. His tiny body trembled slightly and his chubby cheeks turned bright red. He nervously gripped the hem of his shirt and shyly called out: “Mo…mmy?” After saying it, he ducked his head in embarrassment, peeking up at me now and then. Oh my goodness! Forget about the dad – this son was all mine now!! I cleared my throat and gave a solemn “Mm-hmm.” Then I turned to the housekeeper who had been standing nearby and said, “I’ll take care of the child from here. You can go about your business.” “Very well, Mrs. Quinn.” This feeling was absolutely amazing! I tried to contain my excitement and act nonchalant as I gently scooped up the little dumpling. Then, with Ethan in one arm and the teddy bear in the other, I headed upstairs. I’d been to the house a few times before the wedding, so I was familiar with the general layout. My husband really lived up to his big shot status – a six-story mansion with three elevators and two small gardens. Even the decor was grand and impressive. I brought Ethan to the room Nathan had prepared for me and placed the teddy bear next to the pillow. “Ethan, I’m sorry I didn’t have a gift prepared for you. But this necklace pendant is very important to me. Would you like to keep it safe for Mommy?” “I’ll look at it every day,” he promised solemnly. I fastened it around his neck and he looked so happy. “How about you sleep with Mommy tonight, and then tomorrow I’ll take you to preschool? Is that okay?” I asked, keeping my voice soft and gentle. If my friends could see how sweet I was being, they’d probably think I’d been possessed or something. “Okay,” came his soft reply. So adorable. I was lost in my own thoughts and didn’t notice the brief flicker of tension that crossed the little dumpling’s cherubic face. That evening… “…And so the little fox and his mommy lived happily ever after.” After finishing the story, I looked down at the sleeping Ethan and quietly set the book aside. Just then… my phone started ringing loudly. I nearly dropped it in shock and quickly hung up. Hearing Ethan’s steady, even breathing, I breathed a sigh of relief. I tiptoed out of the room and only called back once I was far enough away that he wouldn’t hear. “Amber Wilson, how dare you hang up on me!” the woman on the other end shouted indignantly. “I was putting my son to bed. And it’s my wedding night, for crying out loud. Why are you calling so late?” I said, exasperated. “Oh please, everyone knows your husband isn’t even home. He went straight to the office after the ceremony.” “Wait, what did you just say? Son? Since when do you have a son?” she exclaimed in shock. I frowned slightly. “My husband’s son. But he’s my son now too.” It made sense that she didn’t know. I only found out myself when I was told I’d be marrying Nathan. Nathan had kept the child’s existence very private. But now the news about the boy was public. “And keep your voice down, will you?” “I thought you hated kids. I know you’re all alone on your wedding night, so I called to cheer you up,” Sarah said brazenly. How was I supposed to know the little dumpling would be so adorable? I thought that to myself, but didn’t say it out loud. “What’s up?” I asked instead. “You have to come to the class reunion this Saturday. That little goody two-shoes is going to be there too. Remember – you better look smoking hot and put her in her place!” I could tell from her tone how angry Sarah was. Her expression was probably just as ugly. I couldn’t help but laugh. “Come on, it’s been years. I’ve forgotten all about that stuff.” She just huffed and didn’t say anything else. We chatted for a few more minutes before hanging up. I stood by the fifth floor window, staring blankly at the sky. Suddenly, I found myself thinking back to the summer after high school graduation. In high school, Sarah, Chloe and I were super close friends. At a group dinner after the SATs, the most popular guy in school suddenly confessed to me. Everyone was egging us on and making a big fuss. I was annoyed by all the commotion, so I turned him down point-blank. What I didn’t know was that Chloe had liked him for a long time and had been secretly pursuing him. Because of my rejection, the guy got upset and started dating Chloe instead out of spite. People said she only got to be with him because of me. Our relationship just kept getting worse after that. I thought once we went off to college, I’d never have to see her again. But to my surprise, even though we weren’t at the same school, she still went around spreading rumors about me and trying to make my life miserable. She and that guy didn’t last long though – he ended up cheating on her. I heard she’s going to be at the class reunion on Saturday too. “Ugh, what a pain!” I groaned, messing up my hair in frustration. But you know what? It’s been so long, maybe she’s forgotten all about it. Thinking that, I relaxed a bit. For the next few days, I just stayed home with Ethan. Other than dropping him off and picking him up from preschool each day, I worked on my fashion designs. I’m a designer for a famous brand, you know. I wasn’t about to give up my career just because I got married. That would be way too boring! Lately, Ethan has inspired so many new ideas. I’d be doing a disservice to my profession if I didn’t put them to use! On Saturday morning, I watched Ethan quietly playing with his blocks, a big smile spreading across my face. But then I thought about who I’d have to deal with that afternoon and couldn’t help but sigh. Why did I have to go to a class reunion instead of a PTA meeting? Noticing my mood, Ethan looked at me with concern. “Mommy, are you sad?” I gently pinched his chubby little cheek and said, “Mommy has to go to a party this afternoon. Can you play by yourself at home, sweetie?” After spending the past few days together, Ethan had grown much closer to me. “Can Ethan come too? Ethan will be very good,” he promised. Thinking about how she would be there, I started to refuse. His bright eyes immediately dimmed. “Okay, Ethan will wait for Mommy at home.” Oh no, the guilt was setting in. It should be fine to bring him along, right? I’d keep a close eye on him. Leaving him home alone would make me no better than his dad. “You can come, sweetie. Do you want to go with Mommy?” “Yes~” Seeing his eyes light up again, I breathed a sigh of relief. But why did I feel like I’d just been played? The reunion was being held in a private room at a restaurant. By the time we arrived, it had already started. “If it isn’t the goddess Amber! Why are you so late? We’ve been waiting for you!” someone called out as soon as we walked in. So much for quietly slipping into a corner. I smiled and waved hello, then saw Sarah frantically gesturing at me from across the room. I headed over, leading Ethan by the hand. At that point, everyone else stopped what they were doing. “Amber’s here! And who’s this little one…?” someone asked. I sat down and pulled Ethan onto my lap, frowning slightly at all the bottles of alcohol on the table. “My son,” I replied. Then I turned to a nearby waiter and asked quietly, “Do you have any drinks for children?” “Of course, of course.” After getting Ethan settled, I looked at Sarah. “Wipe that look off your face before you scare my son.” Sarah grinned mischievously. “Your son is so cute! Does he need a godmother?” She was clearly up to no good. “Get lost,” I said, giving her a disgusted look. We started eating and chatting. A little while later, I smelled an overpowering wave of perfume. The next second, Ethan sneezed. At the same time, a familiar voice rang out: “Amber, I heard you recently married a man with a child. Are you that desperate? Don’t tell me you’re…” She trailed off, but I knew what she was implying. “Chloe John, who the hell do you think you’re insulting?!” Sarah’s temper instantly flared up and she glared furiously at Chloe.

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During the pandemic, my crush lost his job. After hanging up the phone, I rushed to his apartment complex that night. The power was out in his unit, and he was drinking alone in the dark living room. I hugged him tightly in the darkness and said, “Don’t worry, I’ll always be here for you!” That night, we crossed a line. The next morning, I snuggled up to my crush and called out his name affectionately: “Ethan.” A deep male voice breathed into my ear and asked, “Who’s Ethan?” My heart skipped a beat as I realized the voice sounded different! I opened my eyes to a face completely unlike Ethan’s. Frightened, I quickly covered myself with the blanket and exclaimed, “Who are you?!” He gave me a meaningful look, smiling like a mischievous devil, and asked while playing with my hair: “Last night, you snuck into my place while I was drunk, hugging and kissing me, and now you’re asking who I am, hmm?” I stared into those dangerous fox-like eyes, trying hard to control my emotions as I recalled everything that happened last night. During the peak of the pandemic, Ethan’s company had layoffs, and he lost his job. He lived in a high-risk area. To comfort him, I took a cab to his apartment complex that night. Even if it meant being quarantined together, I wanted to be there for him during this difficult time. When I reached his door, the power was out, and he was drinking alone in the dark. He hugged me tightly in the darkness. I thought my crush of seven years had finally reciprocated my feelings, so I boldly kissed him. He hesitated for a moment but didn’t pull away, so I assumed he had accepted me. Now that I think about it, did I get the wrong apartment number? “Who are you?” I asked again. Hearing this, the man suddenly flipped me over, pinning me beneath him. He bit my lip lightly and said, “Remember this: my name is Adrian.”

In a flash, my mind went blank, and I could only push him away. The soreness in my body reminded me of everything that had happened last night. I lifted the blanket, but remembering the man next to me, I quickly covered myself again. He lay there, half-exposed, and said with interest, “Don’t bother covering up. I’ve already seen everything.” Oh no, I had lost my precious first time to this devilishly handsome stranger! Heartbroken, I picked up my crumpled clothes from the floor. My blouse was left with only one button, clearly unwearable. He kindly offered, “Want to borrow something?” “You have women’s clothes?” I asked in return. He replied calmly, “No, but I can lend you a shirt.” I thought to myself, “…” How am I supposed to face Ethan later wearing another man’s clothes? “No need,” I declined. As I was about to get off the bed wrapped in the blanket to find my coat, I accidentally exposed him completely. My face turned red instantly. Seeing a man’s body for the first time made my heart race. I didn’t know whether to drop the blanket or pull it away. He good-naturedly handed me his outer shirt. After taking it, I threw off the blanket and hid in the bathroom.

As soon as I entered, just about to change clothes, he followed me in. I, barely covered, startled like a frightened bird, “What are you doing?!” He handed me my phone. Seeing it was Ethan calling, I snatched it from his hand, feeling guilty. Ethan’s hoarse voice came through the phone: “Where are you?” “I…” I glanced at the man who had politely closed the door, my expression complicated, not knowing how to respond. He seemed to lose patience: “Never mind, don’t come over.” “Why?” I asked. “I’ve got a bit of a cold. What if I infect you?” So he was concerned about me. My guilt instantly doubled. “Um… where exactly do you live? I think I got the wrong apartment number,” I said. “You came to my complex?” he asked. “Yeah,” I replied, blushing. There was silence on the phone for a moment, then he said in an extremely unnatural tone: “Why don’t you go back home? If you leave now, you can still make it!” I said worriedly, “How can I do that? You’re sick, I can’t leave you alone. What’s your apartment number? I’ll… I’ll go to the store first, then come find you.” After I finished speaking, Ethan became anxious too: “I’m fine, really. My uncle just got back from abroad, he can take care of me!” So the sickness was a lie, he just didn’t want to see me. Holding the phone, my head felt a bit heavy: “So, last night when you said you wanted to see me, that was…?” Seeing that I hadn’t hung up, he said somewhat exasperatedly: “Vivian, let’s just say I was drunk last night, I was talking nonsense… You really don’t need to come over!”

I hung up the phone, feeling dejected. I had pursued him for seven years. So I took time off work and came here despite everything, all because of some drunken nonsense? Well, he was right about one thing – I really didn’t need to go over there anymore. I washed my face to calm myself down, then tied the shirt I was wearing into a big bow at the waist. I put on my jeans and coat, carefully checked myself in the mirror, and found that nothing looked out of place from the outside. When I came out, the man was sitting on the sofa drinking coffee. He glanced at his phone and said casually: “Looks like someone was a bit presumptuous.” I rolled my eyes at him. Eavesdropping is eavesdropping, no need to act all proper. “Sorry, I got the wrong apartment. I’ll be going now.” He put down his phone and asked me: “Is my place a hotel? You come and go as you please?” I snapped back irritably: “What else do you want?” Should I stay and take responsibility? From the looks of his place, he seemed quite well-off, and he didn’t look like someone who couldn’t find a girlfriend. If he didn’t mind, I could make do. Right now, I had everything except a man and money. As we stood at an impasse in the living room, the doorbell broke the awkward atmosphere. I opened the door reflexively. A community worker came in and said that due to the pandemic, the entire building was being locked down, and they hoped we would cooperate with the quarantine. I agreed repeatedly, of course we wouldn’t cause trouble for others. Wait a minute, quarantine… that means I can’t leave, and I have to be quarantined here with this man for two weeks? I suddenly turned back to look at the man behind me, who had an amused expression, and asked stiffly: “So, what was it you wanted again?” This time, I was genuinely asking, not challenging. “Can you cook?” he asked. I nodded: “Yes!” When in Rome, do as the Romans do. I at least had that much sense. Besides, judging by his immaculate hands, he didn’t look like someone who could cook. Who knows if what he made would be edible? There were only the two of us here, so who else would cook?

After entering the kitchen, I washed my hands first, then skillfully opened the refrigerator, all in one smooth motion. The most common ingredients often only require the simplest cooking. A few minutes later, I placed two bowls of instant noodles on the dining table. When he smelled the aroma, he walked over with a look of disdain, “Is this what you eat for breakfast?” “What do you eat then?” I asked. Breakfast time is usually rushed, which working person would specially get up to cook nowadays? He stared at the two bowls of instant noodles and sighed: “Never mind, go sit on the sofa and watch some TV for a while.” So, I was banished from the kitchen area to the sofa zone. While watching TV, I kept sneaking glances at the kitchen. He complained my food wasn’t nutritious, so I wanted to see what delicious meal this pampered young master could whip up. As I was chatting with my roommate on my phone, I suddenly heard rapid footsteps coming from upstairs. My impression of the refined Ethan was shattered as he bounded down the stairs in a yellow pajamas, looking like a giant rubber duck with wings. “Uncle, I’m up!” he called out. I jolted up from the sofa, “E-Ethan?!” He looked at me in surprise, clearly not expecting to find me in his living room. “Vivian, why are you here?” he asked, bewildered.

“I…” I stared at Adrian, who was cooking in the kitchen, at a loss for words. Ethan came up to me and asked in a low voice: “Didn’t I tell you not to come?” Noticing his accusatory tone, I retorted: “Weren’t you supposed to have a cold?” Is this how someone with a cold acts? Just then, a deep male voice came from behind: “Ethan, is that what you’re calling yourself now?” I turned around to see Adrian placing two plates of toast and eggs on the table. This didn’t seem like his usual style, but his movements showed no signs of awkwardness. The way he set down the plates reminded me of my boss placing documents on my desk to assign tasks. At this moment, he had shed his earlier devilish demeanor and looked quite serious, very much like an elder questioning a child in the family. Sure enough, Ethan fidgeted in front of him and said: “Uncle… I’m all grown up now, it’s embarrassing to be called Ethan. My colleagues all call me Ian now!” Adrian snorted lightly: “No wonder your mom couldn’t find you at your company for half a month.” Ethan looked somewhat troubled. He introduced me to Adrian: “This is my uncle.” Then he explained to Adrian, “Her name is Vivian, um… my college classmate.” Anyone could hear the dismissive tone in his voice; he clearly wasn’t very welcoming of my sudden appearance. Just as I was wondering how to salvage the situation, Adrian nodded and inexplicably said: “Alright, let’s eat.” “Unc-” The word “uncle” got stuck in my throat. I didn’t know whether to say it or not, because at that moment, only one thought was running through my mind. Last night, while my crush was asleep, I had slept with his uncle downstairs???

Just as I was wondering what to say, I heard Ethan ask me: “Why are you still wearing your coat indoors? Aren’t you hot?” “I…” How could I take it off without him seeing that I was wearing his uncle’s shirt while we ate? I tried hard to come up with an excuse: “I’m… not hot. I like wearing thick clothes.” As if! Ethan glanced at the air conditioner suspiciously: “But it’s 77 degrees in here. Are you really not hot?” I replied: “It’s fine.” Mom, I can now lie with a straight face. At this point, I thought I heard Adrian snicker. My cheeks instantly felt like they were on fire. I pretended to go wash my hands to escape further questioning. I stood in front of the mirror in the bathroom for a while, feeling like the inside and outside of the bathroom were two different worlds. The thought of the two men outside made me feel like I was sitting on pins and needles. If we stayed together like this, something was bound to go wrong. If only I could talk to the community workers and ask them to quarantine me somewhere else. Just as this thought crossed my mind, I heard someone knocking on the door outside. I turned my head and asked, “Who is it?” “Come out,” came Adrian’s calm voice. Had he come to hurry me to eat so quickly? I said nervously, “What for?” “To wash my hands.” “…” I had no choice but to turn the doorknob. I was immediately met with a handsome face. My heart started racing as I looked into his fox-like eyes that seemed to be smiling yet not. I just wanted to quickly get away, so I stumbled out, bumping into the doorframe. There were only two breakfast plates on the table. Ethan asked me, “Can you cook?” Feeling guilty, I nodded obediently: “Yes, what would you like?” I can look it up online and try to make it. At this point, Adrian had finished washing his hands and came out. He directly pushed his plate in front of me and said: “You eat mine.” Ethan looked at us oddly. Adrian had already pulled the other plate of breakfast towards himself and said calmly: “If you want to eat, go make it yourself in the kitchen.” Ethan immediately pouted in disappointment: “Uncle, I don’t know how to make breakfast. How about…” Adrian: “There are two more cups of instant noodles here. You can take those.” Ethan glanced at the two cups of instant noodles forgotten in the corner with a look of reluctant acceptance. He grudgingly picked up both cups, muttering: “It’s so embarrassing to eat this for breakfast.”

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Ten years after the divorce, my scumbag dad showed up with his three kids, wanting to remarry my mom. He had the audacity to demand our house in the good school district, take over our restaurant, and even asked me to hand over my social media account with millions of followers to my stepsister… My mom, the queen of sass, rolled her eyes and said, “An old dog trying to learn new tricks? Dream on, you shriveled up prune.” It was past midnight when my scumbag dad found us. Mom and I had just finished a long shift at our restaurant. “What are you two doing out so late?” he scolded, his face twisted with disapproval. Mom and I rolled our eyes in perfect sync. Ten years ago, we agreed to never see each other again. Now he’s suddenly here acting like he has the right to question us? Who does he think he is? “Honey, do you know why Mr. Johnson lived to be a hundred?” Mom asked me loudly. I replied, “Because he minded his own business.” Mom nodded approvingly and took my hand, walking right past him. “Sophia, we need to talk,” Brian demanded, grabbing Mom’s arm. I instinctively pulled Mom behind me and glared at him. “Don’t you dare touch her, or I’ll knock your head sideways!” Ten years ago, I was too small to stop him from hitting Mom. Now, I’m a black belt in Muay Thai. One hook punch past his ear would make his head ring for days. Twisting his head sideways wasn’t just an empty threat. Brian flinched at the speed of my punch, then growled, “This is adult business. Don’t interfere! You have no manners!” I coldly replied, “My dad died young. Please excuse me.” “You little brat!” He raised his hand, but Mom caught his wrist in a vice-like grip. Years of alcohol and debauchery had made him weak. With two quick twists, he was howling in pain. Mom tossed his arm aside, her face expressionless. “If you don’t want a beating, get lost. Stop barking like a dog and disturbing the neighbors!” “You’re still so vulgar!” Brian looked at us with disgust, then gritted his teeth. “Fine, I won’t argue with you now.” “I’m free tomorrow. Let’s go to the registry office and remarry.” Mom looked at him in disbelief. “Have you lost your mind?” I handed him a business card. “Top psychiatrist. Mention my name for a 20% discount. You’re welcome.” Brian’s face turned from red to purple. Finally, he looked at Mom with disdain: “Back then, you were begging me not to divorce you. Now that I’m willing to come back, what more do you want?” Right, Mom used to be so love-blind. She married Brian without a dowry or even a wedding. Two months after the wedding, Brian left for a long-term construction project. For over a decade, he barely came home, leaving Mom to struggle alone with the family. When Mom was pregnant with twins, she had to borrow money from friends for the hospital bills. During her postpartum recovery, she couldn’t even afford a decent meal. Meanwhile, Brian made up excuses about not being able to come back, when in reality, he was starting a new family with his mistress. Mom looked him up and down, then burst out laughing: “Why would I want to remarry you? For your beer belly? Your receding hairline? Or maybe for those jowls that could render enough lard to fry a dozen donuts?” “Don’t you have a mirror at home? Or at least a toilet bowl? Take a good look at yourself when you pee, for God’s sake.” Brian had always thought highly of himself. Mom’s tirade left him fuming. Two buttons on his shirt popped open, revealing a mound of quivering flesh. Oh, being the considerate person I am, I handed him another business card: “How about a gym membership? Mention my name, and you’ll get three free trial sessions.” Before he could react, I pulled Mom into our building and slammed the door in his face. Brian started kicking the door furiously. “Open up!” I wasn’t going to let him get away with this. I called the security office right in front of him: “Yes, there’s a flasher at Building 7, Unit 3 entrance. Oh my, he’s banging on the door now. Please hurry!” After hanging up, seeing he still wouldn’t leave, I smiled sweetly and asked, “Uncle, do you think security isn’t enough? Should I call the police too?” “Zoey, I’m your father!” Brian roared, his face red with anger. “Sorry, uncle, you’ve got the wrong person. I’m Zoey Paul.” “Paul as in my mom’s surname, and Zoey as in ‘my dad died early’, hehe.” Late that night, I paid triple the usual rate to have someone investigate Brian’s recent situation. Soon after, Mom came to my room, hugging her turtle-shell pillow. On the surface, she might be the beautiful owner of a popular restaurant, but behind the scenes, she’s the second-in-command of a billion-dollar food empire. Yet, whenever something’s troubling her, she still likes to come to me for comfort. My heart sank. She couldn’t be love-blind again, could she? What was I thinking? How could that dried-up old prune steal her heart? “Mom, forget it. I’d rather you go abroad and marry Aunt Tanya, giving me another mom, than ever accept Brian as my dad!” I shouted preemptively, then buried my head under the covers. Out of sight, out of mind! “What nonsense are you talking about?” Mom pulled me out from under the covers and showed me her phone messages. Apparently, Brian had gotten hold of Mom’s number somehow and sent her a message. It was an ultrasound image. The message read: This is Tony’s child. Five months along, it’s a boy. Can you bear to let your grandson grow up without a grandmother? Seeing this message, I was stunned. I didn’t know what to say. Tony is my twin brother. Mom raised us both single-handedly. Our grandparents never approved of Mom and were always stingy. They treated me poorly, and even Tony, their grandson, wasn’t much better off. During the divorce, Grandma pushed me away, saying, “Tony is our grandson, he has to stay. Zoey, you can go with your mother. We don’t need a granddaughter.” Grandpa even warned Mom, “You didn’t bring much of value when you married into our family. If you dare to take anything from our Lee family besides Zoey, we’ll call the police.” Mom didn’t ask for anything, but to take Tony with her, she was willing to go to court. But on the day of the court’s decision, Tony chose to stay with Brian. Even when Mom was slapped twice by Brian in public, even when I was thrown out and fell at the feet of his mistress and her daughter. He remained indifferent, just coldly turning his face away. I don’t hate Brian and those other demons anymore, but I still hate Tony. He protected me as we grew up and said he would always protect me and Mom. But he broke his promise. I pouted and said sarcastically, “Well, well, a free grandson. Are you tempted?” “Get lost!” Mom smacked my forehead. Finally, she said thoughtfully, “I just feel like that old scumbag is up to something, using both the carrot and the stick.” “Back then, even when he was cyberbullied so badly, he insisted on staying with his mistress. Why is he suddenly coming back to remarry me?” “Could it be because Zack recently made our restaurant famous, and he’s eyeing our business?” Zack is Aunt Tanya’s only son. He’d been hovering around the D-list in the entertainment industry for years, but this year he suddenly became famous with a drama series. As a result, our restaurant became a hotspot for fans, business boomed, and we frequently trended on social media. Brian’s sudden appearance was indeed likely because of this. A few hours later, we had our answer. Because the money was well spent, not only did they thoroughly investigate Brian, but they also threw in two gigabytes of juicy details about the people around him. From the information, the reason Brian insisted on remarrying Mom was simple: he was broke. A few months ago, his business failed, leaving him deeply in debt. His mistress also divorced him. As a devoted sugar daddy, he transferred his remaining car and house to his mistress. This doesn’t look like a real separation, but rather a fake divorce to protect the mistress and her daughter. During this time, Brian and Tony, the newlyweds, were renting a place to live. Their living expenses depended entirely on Tony’s income. Even though they were struggling, he still insisted on giving monthly child support to his mistress and her daughter. He even borrowed several hundred thousand in high-interest loans under Tony’s name, but this money couldn’t satisfy that mother-daughter pair for long. To make a comeback, he hooked up with someone running an illegal factory. Now, all he wanted was to raise some investment capital to join in producing and selling counterfeit products. Seeing this, my eyes were already filled with anger: “His reason for seeking remarriage isn’t just for money. He probably wants to use us as scapegoats when things go south.” Mom angrily slammed the mouse, cursing, “This black-hearted, rotten bastard! I’d like to see if he can swindle money from me, or if I’ll send him to rot in jail!” Saying this, she pulled Brian’s contact out of various blacklists and posted a moment on social media to bait him. “[Heart][Kiss] My daughter is so thoughtful, this year’s birthday gift is a beautiful ice blue Maserati!!! In three days, she’s even throwing me a birthday party at the Starlight Century. Everyone, come join us!!!” The accompanying photo was of her girlish pink Maserati. However, this car was actually a Women’s Day gift from Aunt Tanya this year. Soon enough, we saw Brian quietly like the post. He even left a comment saying: Honey, I’ll bring the kids to celebrate your birthday. Wait for me! Mom snorted disdainfully: “He really dares to come. Well, I’ll have to teach him a lesson first!” Early in the morning, Brian called to exchange pleasantries. Mom put him on speakerphone, lazily responding to his chatter. Brian was talking enthusiastically on the other end: “Your birthday is a big deal. I’m planning to bring the kids to celebrate with you. At our age, what we value most is family gatherings. Without your son and daughter-in-law there, your birthday would feel incomplete, wouldn’t it?” “I’m touched that you still remember my birthday,” Mom said sarcastically. “Of course, after all, we were married for so many years. I still care about you very much.” I felt a surge of anger rising in my chest. The old scumbag clearly never cared about Mom. Mom’s birthday wasn’t in three days; it was actually the anniversary of her divorce. In previous years, we would have a small gathering with Aunt Tanya and her son on that day, celebrating Mom’s new lease on life. This year, we were planning a big celebration just to lure him into our trap. On the phone, Brian said ingratiatingly that he was at the mall choosing a gift for Mom, asking if she had any preferences. Mom waved her hand grandly and said, “You really want to give a gift? How about the new Hermès bag? Anything else would be embarrassing in front of my girlfriends.” “…Alright.” I could hear Brian’s sharp intake of breath through the phone. Heh, you can’t catch a wolf without using a lamb as bait. He brought this on himself. Three days later, Mom’s “birthday party” was held as scheduled. On the way, Brian called Mom on FaceTime. “Suisuisui,” Brian suddenly called out affectionately. Mom shuddered, almost dropping her phone. I tried to hold back my laughter. That voice was indeed sickeningly sweet, enough to make me want to throw up the lunch I had earlier. “Suisui, why aren’t you saying anything?” Mom coughed and replied coldly, “If you have something to say, say it. If not, I’m hanging up.” “I do, I do,” Brian said urgently. “Mia is such a thoughtful child. When she heard about your birthday, she prepared a song to sing and play for you…” He really had the nerve to bring that up. Wasn’t he deliberately trying to provoke us? Mia is his daughter with his mistress. Back then, outside the court, when I was thrown by Brian and fell at her feet. She wore delicate little leather shoes and rubbed my face with the sole of her shoe, saying with disgust, “Get away, you dirty thing. You almost dirtied my shoes.” “You think Dad really wanted Tony? He just couldn’t bear for my mom to have a second child. Hmph, Dad said that even if he’s a son, I’ll be the one to inherit everything in the future.” Mom was silent for a moment, then said to him, “Don’t bring your dirty, stinking things to me.” Brian was clearly unhappy. But he still said with a thick skin, “How could that be? Mia told me that if we remarry, you’ll be her only mom in the future. And she plays the piano so well…” “Good eye, she thinks I’m better than her mom, huh?” Mom chuckled. “Fine, bring her along then. It’s just an extra set of chopsticks.” Only then did he hang up, satisfied. We had just arrived at the hotel when Brian’s family of four followed closely behind. Brian was dressed in a suit with a red rose pinned to his chest, while Mia clung to his arm, wearing a off-shoulder cocktail dress, her makeup exquisite and alluring. Clearly, they came prepared. Behind them, as pale as her dress, was a woman carefully walking with both hands on her slightly swollen belly, like a fragile white flower. Tony walked beside the white flower, tenderly supporting her waist, his whole being radiating fatherly love. He probably didn’t know yet that the child in the white flower’s belly wasn’t his at all. He was purely a naive cuckold. I couldn’t help but glance a few more times at Tony’s head, but he was oblivious, seemingly focused entirely on his newlywed wife. “Suisui! I’ve prepared a surprise for you later, you’ll definitely love it,” Brian greeted enthusiastically. “Mom, happy birthday~” Mia called out with a sweet smile. Mom didn’t give her a friendly look, but she wasn’t bothered. She turned and gave me a sickeningly sweet hug: “Sister, long time no see~” I forced a smile: “Long time no see, you’re still the same as before.” Still thick-skinned as ever, truly her mother’s daughter. At this moment, Brian pulled Tony and his wife in front of Mom. “This is Tony’s wife, her name is Chloe.” The white flower took out a box from her handbag and handed it to Mom: “Mom, this is a key chain I embroidered for you by hand. I hope you like it…” She held out the box reverently, displaying her scarred and slightly bleeding fingertips for us to see. She looked at Mom with a timid gaze, as if Mom not accepting it would be a grave sin. It was… quite inauspicious. I accepted it on Mom’s behalf and handed it to the reception desk: “Note this down, Brian Lee, gift of one key chain.” The receptionist repeated loudly: “Thank you, Mr. Brian Lee, for your generous gift of one key chain!” The smile on Brian’s face instantly froze. Tony’s expression also became inscrutable. Only Mia immediately supported the swaying white flower, looking at me disapprovingly: “Sister, even if you despise sister-in-law’s humble gift, you shouldn’t humiliate her like this. She’s pregnant, carrying your little nephew!” “Alright, the thought counts. Let’s go in,” Mom interrupted impatiently, pulling me into the venue. Mia scurried after us, chirping away: “Mom, where’s the piano? Can I try it out first?” “Are there many important people here today? I must perform well~” I kindly pointed her towards the stage, and she fluttered through the crowd like a butterfly. Soon, the opening notes of “The Wedding Song” rang out from the stage, attracting the attention of all the guests. Accompanied by the music, Brian walked onto the stage, holding a microphone and reciting a heartfelt speech. He kept talking about how he never forgot Mom and wanted to rekindle their relationship. “Sophia, I still love you.” “Twenty years ago, I couldn’t give you a proper proposal. Today, I want to make it up to you.” With that, Brian knelt down on the stage, holding out a ring box towards Mom: “Will you marry me again?”

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While I was on my way to find a lawyer with the will in hand, I got into a car accident and died. When I woke up again, I found myself sitting in a college classroom in 2002. Sitting next to me was my 19-year-old boss. This introduction sets up the premise of the story – the main character (Olivia) has been reborn into the past with memories of her future life. It establishes the time period (2002) and introduces a key character (her future boss, Lucas) right from the start. As I was on my way to see a lawyer with the will in hand, I got into a car accident. The car was totaled, and I died. When I regained consciousness, I found myself sitting in a college classroom in 2002. Beside me sat my 19-year-old boss. “Are you Lucas?” I asked, shocked to realize we were classmates in college. Lucas turned his head slightly, acknowledging that he heard me, but his eyes remained fixed on the professor at the front of the room. “Mm-hmm,” he mumbled. I observed this shy young man wearing worn-out sweats and canvas shoes. Lucas was frantically jotting down notes from the lecture. I noticed purple bruises on his wrist. This handsome, thin young man would become my boss in ten years, the person who left all his assets to me when I was at my poorest. I looked down at my own delicate, slender hands, so different from the rough, yellowed ones I remembered. The bag next to me was even a new 2002 Chanel model. When I worked for Lucas in my past life, my family had already fallen on hard times. The few designer bags I owned were all year-end bonuses from Lucas. I took out a mirror from my bag and carefully examined the beautiful young woman reflected in it. I really had been reborn. After class, Lucas grabbed his books and headed out. I wanted to catch up with him but was stopped by another girl. “Olivia, why were you talking to that poor kid today?” she asked. Poor kid? She must be referring to Lucas. “What’s wrong with talking to him?” I replied. She widened her eyes and felt my forehead. “Didn’t you used to say he smelled like a country bumpkin and it was awful?” What? I used to look down on Lucas? I thought hard but couldn’t remember having any impression of this boy in college. “I was ignorant before. Now I think he’s really impressive and inspiring,” I said. I looked up and saw Lucas standing in the doorway. His lips were pressed tightly together, and he looked uncomfortable. “Forgot something?” I asked him with a smile, trying to convey as much kindness as possible. He nodded but still wouldn’t look at me. I picked up the keys on the desk and handed them to him, then followed him out of the classroom. His pants were obviously too short, and his canvas shoes were a bit big, exposing his heels as he walked. He had several blisters on his feet, and there were more bruises visible on his exposed ankles. “Is someone bullying you? Who is it?” I asked. He turned back to look at me in surprise, as if to say, “Isn’t it you?” I blinked and clarified, “I mean, is someone in your dorm bullying you?” He didn’t respond and just kept walking. I continued following behind him. As we passed a stairwell, he was suddenly pulled aside by someone. “What are you doing?” I called out as I caught up. By the time I reached them, Lucas had already been pushed to the ground. One of the guys had his foot on Lucas’s shoulder. He looked shocked to see me. “Olivia, don’t you hate this guy?” he asked. Lucas was staring at me too, but there was no fear or plea for help in his eyes. “I don’t hate him anymore. He’s my friend now, so you’d better move your foot,” I said firmly. The guys laughed mockingly, looking at me with defiance. I took out my phone from my bag, pretending I was about to make a call. They started to panic. “What are you doing?” I looked at them innocently. “Calling the dean. My dad donates so much money to the school every year, and this is how they’re raising students? A bunch of bullies ganging up on one person?” They grew scared, knowing I actually had the power to get them expelled. They glared at Lucas and me, cursing under their breath as they left. “Wait,” I called out. They immediately stopped, their backs to me – the only defiance these young men could muster. “Lucas is my friend. Do you understand?” I said. They nodded reluctantly and then left. I went to help Lucas up. He wasn’t badly hurt, just his clothes were dirty. He was clutching an envelope tightly, the flap unsealed. As he stood up, money spilled out onto the ground. It looked like his savings, including coins as small as ten cents. “Were you going to deposit this?” I asked. He looked at me, as if trying to determine if I was friend or foe, then nodded. “It’s for my brother.” “You’re so poor yourself, and you’re still giving money to your brother?” As soon as the words left my mouth, I realized how rude they sounded. Luckily, he didn’t seem offended. “Yeah, he needs it right now.” He has a brother? In my past life, I worked for him for seven full years. I never heard him mention having a brother. I had someone look into Lucas’s background. His path to college had been very difficult. He dropped out in his junior year of high school. It took a lot of persuasion from his teachers, visiting his home multiple times, before his parents agreed to let him apply to college again. His grades were good, so the school waived his tuition and he could even get stipends and scholarships. It was this point that finally convinced his parents. Lucas’s brother, Zack, had failed his college entrance exams. Their family spent a lot of money and called in many favors to get him into a community college. He hadn’t been there long before he got a girlfriend, and now he was asking Lucas for money to buy her gifts. The Johnson family wouldn’t give Lucas a penny for living expenses. He worked in the cafeteria every day to earn some money, which he had to send home and to his brother. There was a photo of Lucas’s brother in the file. He was leaning against a tree with his hands in his pockets, smoking a cigarette, looking like he didn’t have a care in the world. But why did his face look so familiar? I thought hard for a moment. Wait a second, wasn’t he the driver who hit me in that car accident? I felt a chill. Perhaps that accident hadn’t been an accident after all. I had always wondered about something – why did my boss write a will before committing suicide, leaving everything to me instead of his parents? Maybe his suicide was also related to the Johnson family. Zack’s school was actually quite close to ours, though it didn’t have a great reputation. We usually didn’t go there. Most of the students there were like Zack – mediocre in academics and family background, but acting tough. Reading their social media posts, you’d think they were the heirs to some crime family slumming it at community college. I’m not being unfair to them. Right now, Zack and his buddies were blocking my way, asking for my contact information. I looked at them coldly. “Why do you want my number? Do you even have phones?” Zack scratched the back of his head awkwardly but insisted, “We have a payphone in our dorm building.” Seeing that I wasn’t responding, he reached for my bag. I hissed at him, “My bag costs $1,000. Are you sure you can afford to replace it if you damage it?” They burst out laughing. “I don’t believe a bag can be that expensive. Is it made of gold?” I didn’t back down. “You’re welcome to try if you think you can afford to pay for it.” Zack thought for a moment and removed his hand from my bag. He probably felt like he’d lost face in front of his friends, so he suddenly reached out to grab my arm. I dodged him. “Zack.” A familiar voice came from behind me. It was Lucas. He quickly ran over and pushed Zack away, then apologized to me. I watched him bow slightly to me. When those people had bullied him earlier, he hadn’t even furrowed his brow. But now… I suddenly felt sorry for him. “Lucas, your brother offended me. Let’s go back to school and talk about this,” I said, then left. Lucas was saying something to Zack, who looked impatient. It wasn’t until Lucas put a $50 bill in his hand that Zack finally smiled. Back at school, Lucas was still apologizing to me. “I’m sorry, my brother doesn’t know any better. Please don’t hold it against him, okay?” he pleaded. I nodded. “Alright, but you have to tutor me.” Lucas was taken aback. “Tutor you?” I told him my grades weren’t good, especially in English. As long as he could tutor me every day to help me pass my finals, I’d let this incident go. Plus, I’d pay him for the tutoring. He looked at me seriously. “I can tutor you, but I can’t take your money.” I knew he would say that. But it didn’t matter. There were other ways to spend money on him if I wanted to. Thinking of how he had cared for and looked after me as my boss in my past life, I felt an urgent desire to spend money on him. Lucas was really a good boss. He had a tough life before, so he was always kind and approachable to his employees. Since he became wealthy, he had been doing a lot of charity work, though always in my name. He said he didn’t want to appear in the media. I understood. It wasn’t like I was losing out – I was even gaining good karma. Just then, my phone rang. It was my dad. “Dad,” I answered, my voice dry. In my past life, my dad had jumped to his death after going bankrupt. He hadn’t left a single word. I never thought I’d have a chance to see my dad again. “Olivia, have you eaten?” he asked. “Oh, yes, I’ve eaten. Have you eaten?” I struggled to hold back tears as I heard his familiar voice. My nose stung, and it was hard to breathe. He chuckled on the other end, saying he had grandma’s braised pork hock soup for dinner. He sounded a bit smug, knowing it was my favorite dish. I felt a warmth in my heart, but I didn’t forget the important things. “Dad, remember to check the company accounts carefully. Our professors all say you shouldn’t let one person handle all the accounts – it’s risky.” In my past life, Dad’s company had been emptied out bit by bit by his best friend, who then fled abroad. Dad trusted him too much and refused to believe it until it was too late. Dad suddenly got serious and said he would look into it. I wanted to talk to Dad more, but he had another call coming in. He was still Mr. Wilson now, busy every day. After hanging up, I told Lucas about my schedule. He said he could only tutor on weekends because he had to work in the cafeteria other days. I agreed. I arranged for the tutoring to take place at an empty villa my family owned. I pretended to be completely clueless, hoping to frustrate him so he’d feel the task was too burdensome and accept money from me.

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As I was about to go to bed, I habitually unzipped Jack’s pants, only to catch a faint whiff of cigarette smoke. He rarely smoked, except for the occasional post-coital cigarette after we made love. We hadn’t seen each other for two months due to business trips. When I tried to wrap my arms around his neck for a kiss, he pushed me away listlessly: “My back hurts. Not tonight. Let’s just sleep.” Looking at the man snoring beside me, I frowned. My instincts told me that Jack was having an affair, and the girl was young enough to drain all his energy. My name is Rachel Lewis, I’m 28 years old, and my husband Jack is 12 years older than me, having just turned 40 this year. Due to our age difference, I called him “honey,” and he often said that having a young wife like me made him look good when we went out together. I would just smile it off. When we first met, I was an outstanding college intern at the International Jewelry Exhibition, while he was already a suave small business owner. Attracted by his successful and elegant demeanor, we fell in love almost at first sight. Now, five years into our marriage, I’m a “daddy’s girl” with a son, financially well-off, and seemingly happy. At 40, time had turned him into a paunchy middle-aged man with deep nasolabial folds. After giving birth, despite the care of high-end beauty salons and wellness centers, the stretch marks on my body were hard to eliminate, and I was no longer as youthful as before. “This is how marriage is. After the passion fades, it slowly transitions into a familial relationship,” I comforted myself, gradually shifting my focus to taking care of our son and my career. Jack still treated me the same as always, never forgetting to send gifts for Valentine’s Day, anniversaries, and birthdays. On our wedding anniversary, he had the housekeeper deliver a Cartier diamond rose gold necklace, claiming it was a limited edition. “Only two were available in the city, and I pre-ordered one for you,” he said, hugging me from behind and kissing my cheek, his stubble tickling my neck. Jack chuckled softly, feeling aroused, and promptly pinned me down on the office desk. I pushed him away, blushing, “What are you doing? We’re in the office…” He nibbled on my earlobe, unusually eager, like a young man again, “Then let’s go to the room.” After years of marriage, Jack rarely showed such urgency. My office had a small resting area where I would occasionally take short naps when tired. He picked me up and carried me behind the curtain, while the entire company outside remained oblivious to the intimate scene unfolding in the small alcove. Jack’s technique was skillful. Suddenly, he leaned close and whispered in my ear: “Rachel, I…” After he said something, my face immediately turned bright red. Due to work requirements, I often wore black stockings, but Jack had never shown any particular interest in them before. That day, he was exceptionally passionate, almost to the point where the employees downstairs could hear us. If he hadn’t been stimulated by something, Jack, being over forty, shouldn’t have been so fired up. I vaguely remembered him taking a pill midway through. When I asked what it was, he said it was a painkiller. Jack had a herniated disc, and he would take painkillers whenever it flared up. But after that time, I found a thin aluminum pill wrapper on the floor. I clearly saw the words “Viagra” printed on it. The purpose of this drug was self-evident. But why did he carry Viagra with him? And why did he lie to me? This incident planted a seed of doubt in my mind. Two months later, the jewelry exhibition co-hosted by our company was about to open. As a member of the organizing committee, I was swamped with work, while Jack had disappeared without a trace. When I called him, he made excuses about entertaining clients. Finally, I managed to get his location and went to the hotel where he was staying in the neighboring city. “Honey!” I hugged his neck, pretending to be overjoyed, and pulled him into the room. “Mm, I missed you,” Jack said, his demeanor unchanged, though I clearly noticed his fatigue. He lowered his head and touched my necklace. That limited edition Cartier necklace he had given me. “Honey, only when you wear it do I think it’s the most beautiful,” he smiled sincerely. As I was about to go to bed, I habitually unzipped Jack’s pants, only to catch a faint whiff of cigarette smoke. He rarely smoked, except for the occasional post-coital cigarette after we made love. We hadn’t seen each other for two months due to business trips. When I tried to wrap my arms around his neck for a kiss, he pushed me away listlessly: “My back hurts. Not tonight. Let’s just sleep.” Looking at the man snoring beside me, I frowned. My instincts told me that Jack was having an affair, and the girl was young enough to drain all his energy. Taking advantage of his deep sleep, I secretly picked up his phone. Although Jack was a small business owner, he was somewhat out of touch with the times, using an old-fashioned BlackBerry phone. He conducted business negotiations through his male assistant, who would then use a smartphone to guide him in communicating with others. I closed his phone, expressionless. The keypad phone was clean, with no messages or call records. It seemed I would have to work on his trusted assistant to get information. The next day, I borrowed the assistant’s phone under the pretext of checking some design plans. He was very cautious, “I’m sorry, Mrs. Lewis, but Mr. Lewis instructed that due to business confidentiality, only he can look at his own phone.” I smiled lightly, crossing my arms: “Business confidentiality? I’m the boss’s wife, what secrets could there be between us? I just want to look at a file.” The assistant pursed his lips, still unwilling to give me the phone. I frowned and casually said: “Then I’ll call Jack now. I’ll have him fire you right away for being such a disrespectful assistant to his wife.” The assistant finally handed me the phone reluctantly, and I did indeed only look at work-related emails in front of him. After about ten minutes, I nodded calmly and returned the phone to him. As I left the assistant’s office, my palm held a small USB drive. Just moments ago, while looking at the files, I had discreetly plugged it into the phone and copied all the information, covering it with my hand. Back home, I immediately opened my computer to check the records. I found that the chat records on the messaging app were all normal. So why was his assistant being so secretive? I didn’t believe it, so I casually clicked to switch accounts. Sure enough. The assistant had even opened a separate account for Jack, with the ID “Can’t escape your eyes in this flowery world.” Very fitting for a sleazy middle-aged man. He had a group chat called “The King no longer holds morning court,” which was full of lewd conversations with his unsavory friends. Jack’s last message in the group was: “These young ones, they really drain my Viagra supply. My old back can’t take it anymore.” In the gallery, I also found dozens of scandalous screenshots. They were one-sided screenshots Jack had taken of video chats with a friend using a Hello Kitty avatar: In the small window in the upper right corner was Jack’s greasy, wrinkled old face, while below was a dimpled young girl with a flawless body. I gripped the mouse tightly, etching the girl’s face into my memory, and scrolled through their chat history: “Daddy, you’re so amazing. An old war horse still eager for battle (rose)(smile)” “Haha, your little waist is still the best. My herniated disc can’t handle it…” Things hadn’t deviated from my suspicions. My face darkened, and I scrolled faster and faster. Heh, interesting. A college student working part-time? Currently interning at our company, doing menial tasks like serving tea and water. She kept saying it was “compensated dating” with Jack, providing him with emotional comfort while he gave her some financial support. I never thought this “support” would end up in bed. Among the new summer interns at our company, I looked through the HR files and my gaze stopped on a familiar ID photo. That delicate face matched perfectly with the girl Jack was chatting with in the screenshots. I narrowed my eyes, locking onto a name next to that photo: Bella Baker.

When I first met Jack, he was in his early thirties, an elegant and scholarly elite. Now, I thought he should have completely lost his appeal to young girls, but unexpectedly, he still attracted trouble. Jack, who was starting to gray and show signs of balding, with a slight beer belly, was the type who exuded sleaziness with every belch. What did this girl see in him? Was she attracted to his age and poor hygiene, or his three-bedroom apartment? I sneered sarcastically and continued to compare the chat records with the HR files. Bella Baker came from a poor family background and claimed to be working her way through school. She appeared to be a frail and introverted country girl, but her ambition was sky-high, dreaming of marrying into wealth and living a life of luxury. They had been intimate for about two months, which meant he had just gotten a taste two months ago. No wonder he was so vigorous that time in the office. He was clearly stimulated by his new conquest. In their chats, she often hinted at the topic of divorce. Bella Baker said naively: “Daddy, I’m willing to give you three more children. We can name them ‘Do Re Mi’, just like musical notes.” She’s really a fake innocent romantic little green tea bitch. And Jack actually responded with the most classic “sober scumbag” lines: “I have a wife, what children are you talking about giving me?” “What we’re doing now is called an affair, not love. Bella, you need to be clear about that…” The young girl still persisted, bringing it up at every opportunity. I couldn’t help but laugh coldly. Playing mind games with me, a seasoned professional, her wall-digging tactics were quite amateurish. Meanwhile, Jack kept evading and brushing her off. I knew that Jack didn’t dare mention divorce to me, and he was just playing around with her. Business circle relationships are like this. The company’s largest shareholding belonged to Jack and me, and we had invested all our efforts into it. It was a delicate balance. He couldn’t leave me, but he had violated my emotional bottom line – infidelity. My eyes noticeably darkened. I never thought that one day I would have to use the strategies I used against competitors in the workplace on my own husband. Since you betrayed me first, don’t blame me for being merciless. … The jewelry exhibition was proceeding as scheduled. I managed it discreetly while secretly observing this pair of cheaters. Jack had a new red Hello Kitty lighter among his personal items.

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Sebastian said to me, “I need a partner who can keep up with me. You’re just holding me back.” I hung up with a smile, then immediately called all the brands he was collaborating with to terminate their contracts. My boyfriend was a rising star in the entertainment industry. We had agreed to keep our relationship secret for the sake of his career. Today, he was supposed to come celebrate my birthday with me. Instead of him showing up, I saw a video announcement of his relationship with Rachel, a popular young actress. In the video, he was smiling brightly, just like when I first met him. The content was a vlog of their recent overseas trip together. During that time, he had told me he was filming abroad for work. I felt like such a fool. I called him to confront him about the trending video. “Sebastian, what’s going on with the Hot Search?” He laughed scornfully, “Isn’t it obvious? Natalie, Rachel and I are together now. She can offer me the best resources. I need someone who can keep up with me, while you’re just holding me back.” After hanging up, I called all the advertisers working with Sebastian and told them to immediately terminate their collaborations with him. If there were any contract termination fees, I would cover them. For the past few years, I had been secretly helping Sebastian connect with major brands, linking him to various resources, elevating him from an unknown trainee to today’s hot commodity in the entertainment world. But he never knew about any of this. In his eyes, I was just a plainly-dressed, makeup-free fangirl who loved him to the bone. When we first got together, he was still a new trainee at his company. At that time, his company released a dance practice video of him that had zero views and zero comments. I became the first person to click on it, and his first fan. I followed him on Twitter and sent him encouraging private messages. He said he was so excited he cried. Back then, I thought he was down-to-earth, bright, and had clear goals. After we secretly got together, I felt bad that he wasn’t getting attention from his company and had no resources. So I privately pulled some strings to gradually elevate him to where he is today. But he had long since been blinded by the spotlight and applause. This wasn’t the first time Sebastian and Rachel had trended together online. The last time was when they were filming together and the media caught them spending five hours in a hotel room. At the time, I confronted Sebastian with the media reports. He just impatiently said, “We were just discussing the script. Should we have done that in the hotel lobby? Do you trust those gossip reporters more than me? I really can’t talk to you anymore.” We parted on bad terms after that, and his attitude towards me grew increasingly cold. I even wondered if my distrust had pushed him away. Looking back now, I was overthinking it. Sebastian had long wanted to kick me aside and fly to Rachel. Early the next morning, announcements of multiple brands terminating their collaborations with Sebastian successively trended online. Netizens were all speculating whether Sebastian had done something wrong or offended some big shot. Of course, no one would know it was all because of one word from me. Those brands wouldn’t dare reveal my name either. My family was a top financial group in the country. Offending me would be like cutting off their own funding. Rachel’s fans, who were congratulating the couple just last night, immediately flooded Sebastian’s social media with insults. “Have some self-awareness and stop dragging our sister down.” “If you know what’s good for you, break up now. Don’t bring our Rachel down with your bad luck.” “Are you just a gold digger?” “Are you using your relationship with our Rachel to distract from your own scandals? Gross. Rachel, run away fast!” Some netizens even started their own wild speculations: “I heard Rachel has a powerful backer. This relationship announcement must have angered the backer, so they stepped in to cancel all of Sebastian’s endorsements.” I laughed out loud when I saw this comment. It was pretty much on point. Except I wasn’t Rachel’s backer getting angry. I was more like Sebastian’s behind-the-scenes backer. But actually, Rachel did have a powerful supporter. More accurately, someone who saw her commercial value and decided to promote her. That person happened to be my childhood friend who grew up with me but we never got along – Zachary. To be honest, before last night’s relationship announcement video, I always thought Rachel would end up with Zachary. After all, Zachary was handsome and rich, albeit with a bit of an attitude problem. Thinking of this, I suddenly wondered if I should comfort Zachary. We’ve known each other for so many years. It’s normal for two heartbroken people to comfort each other, right? I sent him a message: “Don’t be sad, there are plenty of good women out there.” Zachary replied instantly: “?” “It’s okay, I know you’re upset. Go ahead and cry if you need to.” “You’re crazy.” Never mind, he must be in a bad mood after the breakup. I won’t hold it against him. I glanced at Twitter and saw the trending topics had changed again. This time it was a statement from Sebastian’s company, basically saying they would take legal action against netizens spreading rumors. They also announced the cancellation of all of Sebastian’s upcoming schedules. The underlying message was clear – Sebastian was being frozen out of the industry. (Note: Being “frozen” in the entertainment industry means an artist is sidelined and not given any work or opportunities by their company, often as punishment.) Looking at this trending topic, I couldn’t help but smile. It felt so satisfying. Later, some brand representatives called me, saying Sebastian’s manager was blowing up their phones asking why they suddenly terminated the contracts. The overwhelmed representatives asked if they should make up some excuse. I just snorted coldly, “Then tell him it’s because his artist brought this upon himself.” When I loved you, I could give you everything. But now that I don’t love you anymore, I’m taking all my love back. A few days later, Zachary invited me to attend a cocktail party with him. I rarely attend these kinds of social gatherings because I really dislike the superficial socializing. But thinking I should keep the heartbroken guy company, and that I could use some distraction myself, I agreed. I wore a custom-made spaghetti strap cocktail dress that hugged my curves, put my hair up in an elegant updo exposing my smooth shoulders and neck, and did glamorous makeup – very different from my usual look. When Zachary saw me, his pupils dilated, but his face remained as cold as ever. He took off his suit jacket and draped it over my shoulders, saying curtly, “The AC will be cold at the party. I won’t be responsible if you catch a cold.” I pouted and tossed his jacket back at him, “This looks awful.” Zachary didn’t say anything, but his face got even colder. At the venue, I ran into an old acquaintance. Sebastian walked right past me wearing the custom suit I once bought him. He probably didn’t recognize me immediately since I looked so different from usual. That suit cost six figures, but to avoid making him feel burdened, I had told him it was just a $10,000 off-the-rack suit. Sebastian’s work had all been suspended now, so the fact that he was here meant Rachel must be here too. I suddenly realized Zachary’s purpose in inviting me today – it was to make his ex-girlfriend jealous. Who knew this ice-cold jerk had such sneaky thoughts. I immediately linked my arm through Zachary’s, giving him a look that said “I get it.” After all, my ex was here too. Might as well let Sebastian feel some regret. Zachary looked down at my arm linked with his, “What, using me to make your ex jealous?” ? How dare he accuse me first when he was the one who wanted to make his ex jealous? I was just going along with it. “It’s rare for all of us to gather. I’m helping you, so you need to help me too. Don’t be stingy.” I tried to reason with him patiently. Unexpectedly, Zachary tossed out another “You’re crazy.” But he didn’t remove my arm. Hmph, men. Denying it verbally, but their bodies are still honest. Afterwards, Zachary and I started making awkward and fake compliments to various business people and entertainment bigwigs while sipping champagne. While chatting, I kept looking around but didn’t spot Rachel. Just then, a short, plump middle-aged woman approached us. I remembered her. She had inherited her husband’s massive fortune last year and loved dressing up extravagantly to attend various parties. Each time she had a different young man as her date. There was a hand around her waist, wearing a very familiar watch. I looked up and – wow, it was Sebastian. “Well if it isn’t little Sebastian,” Zachary started with his sarcastic tone before I could say anything. “You know each other?” The woman looked at Sebastian in surprise. Sebastian finally recognized me then, pointing at me in confusion, “Natalie?” “Yes, Charlotte, we’re old acquaintances,” Zachary said with a smile, patting my hand on his arm. Sebastian and Zachary didn’t actually know each other, but Zachary knew about my relationship with Sebastian. “Sebastian, how come we don’t see Rachel today?” I joined in on the sarcasm. “Rachel is old news for Sebastian now,” Charlotte said, stroking Sebastian’s hand. Her face scrunched up, the bright red lipstick almost reaching her ears as she grinned. I clearly saw a flash of disgust cross Sebastian’s face. Zachary and I exchanged a knowing glance, smiling. Poor Rachel, she was just a pawn in the end. Perhaps our little exchange irritated Sebastian. With Charlotte’s words boosting his confidence, he looked at me scornfully. “Haven’t seen you in a few days and you’ve already climbed up the social ladder?” As soon as Sebastian finished speaking, Charlotte hurriedly covered his mouth, looking at me in panic. “What nonsense are you saying? Apologize quickly.” Clearly, brains are a good thing to have, but Sebastian didn’t possess them. “Don’t worry, Charlotte. I know this woman well, no need to fear her,” he said. “Hmph, Charlotte, is this your date?” I raised my chin, my tone slightly threatening.

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News broke that the old building was set for demolition, and suddenly, every distant relative we had was scrambling to get a piece of the payout. The tenant, who only paid $500 a month in rent, was the most eager. “I’ve lived here for over a decade. Half of this house is mine. I deserve half of the $4 million demolition payout!” After I refused, he knocked me out and delivered me to his worthless son. His son came closer, attempting to kiss me. “My mom says you’re going to be my wife now.” The news that some of the earliest residential buildings in downtown Manhattan were slated for demolition spread like wildfire. Coincidentally, the old house my grandpa left me just before he passed away was smack in the middle of the planned demolition area. The day after the news broke, I got a call from Uncle Edward. “Lily, how have you been? Busy with work? Your Aunt Carol’s cooked up all your favorite dishes. Why don’t you come by for dinner tonight? We haven’t seen you in a while.” Oh, we hadn’t seen each other in a while, alright. The last time we crossed paths was three years ago when I ran into him on the street. That time, Uncle Edward had his arm wrapped around a heavily made-up younger woman. The moment he saw me, he panicked and scrambled to get my contact information. Later, he repeatedly begged me not to mention the incident to Aunt Carol. I stared at the traffic passing by and gestured for John, my driver, to leave. Then, I flagged down a cab and sweetly responded to my uncle over the phone, “Sure, Uncle Edward, just text me the address.” The last time I saw Uncle Edward’s family before that was ten years ago, at Grandpa Parsons’ funeral. Back then, Aunt Carol pointed at me—eyes swollen and red as I collapsed in front of the gravestone—and scolded, “You useless girl! You’re no family of ours. Don’t you dare come to us for help. From now on, you live your life, and we’ll live ours. Stay far away from us, you hear?” I didn’t say a word, just stared blankly ahead. Uncle Edward and my cousin Brandon stood by, watching, and didn’t lift a finger to stop her. I was fifteen that year, in my last year of middle school. My parents had died in an accident, and the person who loved me most—Grandpa—was now buried in the ground. From that day forward, I was truly alone. I never thought I’d see the day when they’d invite me back. The cab sped toward the Upper East Side. I gazed out the window, watching the scenery fly by, a bitter smile tugging at the corner of my lips. When I arrived at Uncle Edward’s place, Aunt Carol greeted me at the door, eyeing me up and down. She had put on quite a bit of weight over the years, and her face had become even more sharp and judgmental. With her arms crossed, she sneered at me, “Oh, Lily, that Prada bag you’ve got there—it’s gotta be a knockoff, right? I’m pretty sure this model isn’t even out in the U.S. yet. It’s a pretty convincing fake, though. You really think your $5,000-a-month salary can cover that? Don’t be young and foolish, trying to show off.” I glanced at the bag my business partner had brought me from Europe just days ago and didn’t respond. She then proceeded to critique every piece of clothing and accessory I wore, one by one, as if it gave her some twisted sense of satisfaction. Only after that did she gracefully sit down on the sofa. She had invited me for dinner, but the table was conspicuously empty. Not that I was really there to eat, anyway. Uncle Edward didn’t disappoint. After barely exchanging pleasantries, he cut straight to the point. “Lily, I heard the house your grandpa left you in downtown Manhattan is set for demolition?” I didn’t respond, but Aunt Carol jumped in immediately. “That house is over 1,000 square feet, and in that location, the compensation could be around $4 million. Plus, you’ll get a new place, over 1,500 square feet. Lily, you can’t keep all that money and the house to yourself.” I glanced around at their expensive home décor, then turned back to Aunt Carol. “What do you mean by that, Aunt Carol? I’m afraid I don’t quite understand.” Aunt Carol’s face twisted. “Don’t play dumb! What’s a single girl like you gonna do with all that money? By rights, your grandpa’s house should’ve gone to your Uncle Edward. And if not to him, then to our son, Brandon. We were just being generous by letting you keep it. Don’t be ungrateful.”

Aunt Carol’s bright red lips flapped, spouting a stream of nonsense. Though I had braced myself for this, her shamelessness still stunned me. Before Grandpa died, they’d cleaned out anything of value from the house: savings, cash, antiques—things worth over a million dollars. Uncle Edward even threatened to kill himself if Grandpa didn’t give him what he wanted, worsening Grandpa’s condition. In the end, Grandpa had no choice but to transfer his last two properties into my name and leave a will stating that Uncle Edward’s family had no claim to them. Originally, Grandpa intended to give one house to me and the other to Uncle Edward, splitting everything else equally. Remembering how his health rapidly declined after that, I felt my expression turn icy cold. “That house was left to me. My name is on the title deed. Whether it’s money or property, none of it has anything to do with you.” At this, Aunt Carol and Uncle Edward immediately panicked. Uncle Edward shouted, “You ungrateful brat! That house belongs to the Parsons family. We know you’re struggling financially, so we’re not asking for everything. Just give us $300,000, and the remaining $100,000 can be yours… Ow!” Aunt Carol pinched Uncle Edward hard. “$100,000 is plenty for you. Plus, you’ve got another house, don’t you? We’ll take this new one.” Their audacity was beyond shocking. I overheard Aunt Carol muttering to Uncle Edward, “Didn’t we agree to ask for the house first? Idiot. The house will keep bringing in money. Just asking for cash is a huge loss.” I sneered. They were plotting this all too carefully. Too bad for them, after everything they’d done to me and Grandpa, there was no way I’d let them win. Standing up slowly, I leveled my gaze at them, my voice cold. “I said, the money and the house are mine. Don’t expect to get a single penny from me.” My firm tone caught Aunt Carol off guard. She lunged at me, her perfectly manicured face twisting in rage. “You ungrateful little wretch! That house is your grandpa’s! We have a right to it…” Before she could touch me, I swung my high-heeled foot and kicked her square in the stomach, sending her plump body crashing to the floor. Oh, and she’d just said these YSL heels were a cheap knockoff. I guess now she could judge how sharp they really were. “Carol Parsons, I’m not the clueless little girl you used to bully!” Back when my parents first died, I stayed with Uncle Edward for a while. Aunt Carol hit me constantly and often locked me in a room without food. Uncle Edward turned a blind eye, and Brandon even helped his mom beat me. When Grandpa found out, he was furious. He whipped Uncle Edward and, despite his poor health, took me in and raised me. This family still thought I was the same powerless girl they once tormented. Seeing Aunt Carol groaning on the ground, clutching her stomach, Uncle Edward didn’t dare come near me. He only barked, “Lily, what are you doing?!” “Did you learn nothing in school? Is this how you treat your elders?!” I didn’t even glance at him. I grabbed my bag and walked to the door. But just as I opened it, a large, overweight man stood in the doorway. Startled, I froze for a second, only to hear Aunt Carol shouting desperately from behind, “Ryan, stop her! This is the girl I found for you to marry! Once you marry her, you’ll have both a wife and the house!” Ryan’s eyes lit up as he grabbed my wrist and leaned in to kiss me…

I was startled, struggling with all my might to break free from the man’s grip, yelling at the top of my lungs. Hearing my screams, John, my driver, rushed over. The shameless family, seeing that someone had come to my aid, especially a strong, fit young man, reluctantly let me go. Furious, I stormed out. The next morning, just as I started work, I received a call from Charles Daniels, the tenant living in my grandpa’s old house. Mr. Daniels was the son of one of Grandpa’s friends. He’d lost his parents early in life and, in his youth, lost everything in a failed business venture. He was on the verge of living under a bridge with his wife and child. Grandpa, being the kind soul he was, couldn’t bear to see the son of an old friend fall into such ruin, so he let them live in his house rent-free for a while. When Mr. Daniels’ situation improved, he began paying rent. That house, located in the heart of Manhattan’s Second Avenue, was a three-bedroom apartment. But out of old loyalties, he only paid $500 a month for more than a decade—never once did the rent increase. On the phone, Mr. Daniels started off by casually asking how things were going at my company. Since I’d graduated from college, he’d taken me out for dinner a few times, so he had some idea of my situation. After exchanging a few pleasantries, he suddenly chuckled and said, “Lily, I hear this area is going to be demolished?” That rumor must have spread everywhere. I responded with a light “Yes,” before adding, “But the final decision hasn’t been made yet. There could still be changes.” “There’s no way they’re changing anything,” he laughed from the other end, his tone gleeful. “This place is so old and rundown, right in the heart of the city—it’s been an eyesore for years. It’s about time they tore it down.” Then his voice shifted, taking on a more calculated tone. “So, Lily, about this house of ours… I heard from the neighbors that if it gets demolished, the payout could be worth a few million.” I stayed silent, waiting for him to continue. Sure enough, Mr. Daniels didn’t wait for my reply and kept talking. “Now, I know the house is technically in your name, but it was your grandpa’s place, and I’ve been living here since before he passed. I’ve got a lot of sentimental attachment to this place. So, Lily, when the payout comes, you can’t take it all for yourself. I think it’s fair to split it fifty-fifty.” It was barely 8 AM, and already Mr. Daniels had left my head spinning with this nonsense. I couldn’t help but let out a small, sarcastic laugh. Mr. Daniels didn’t notice and just kept rambling on. “Plus, Lily, you don’t really need the money, right? And you won’t even live in the new place once it’s built. Just let us stay. I’ll keep paying the $500 rent, no problem.” “And look, Ryan’s about to get married. This house would make a perfect wedding gift for him.” “Oh, and the place has to be fully renovated too. If it’s not move-in ready, well, we won’t be paying any rent.” His tone was authoritative, like he was laying down the law. I couldn’t help but burst out laughing. I had always thought Mr. Daniels was a bit lazy and prone to dreaming big, but I had no idea he was this shameless. Did he really think I was a complete fool? “Mr. Daniels,” I replied in a calm voice, though my anger was bubbling underneath, “The house is mine. The compensation is mine. Your family has no claim to any of it. By the way, you still haven’t paid rent for the first half of this year, but I’ll let that go. You’ve got ten days to move out of ‘my’ house.” I made sure to emphasize the word “my.” Before he could get another word in to raise my blood pressure, I hung up. As if it wasn’t bad enough that my uncle and aunt were trying to muscle in, now Mr. Daniels, who had benefited from Grandpa’s generosity for over a decade, wanted a piece of the action, too. Just because you’ve lived somewhere for years doesn’t mean it’s yours. And the whole “you don’t need the money” argument? That doesn’t justify his utter lack of shame. I thought making it clear who owned the house would shut them up for a while, but I underestimated how low people could go.

Uncle Edward, on the other hand, didn’t give up harassing me. When I blocked his calls, he switched to sending text messages, starting with ridiculous demands and eventually escalating to threats. I ignored it all. He was getting increasingly desperate when he couldn’t reach me. As for Mr. Daniels, after that phone call, he was quiet for a few days. But I had a feeling he wouldn’t let things go so easily. Once someone’s greed grows, it’s not easy to shrink it back down. Sure enough, a few days later, I got a notice from the property management about a meeting regarding the demolition. I hadn’t been back to the house in a while, and with the thought of it being torn down soon, I figured I’d stop by for a final look. I also intended to tell Mr. Daniels and his family to pack up and leave. Whether or not the demolition went through, after what Mr. Daniels said to me on the phone, he was no longer welcome there. The whole situation reminded me of Aesop’s fable, The Farmer and the Snake. When I arrived at the meeting, I ran into Mr. Daniels. He was mingling with other residents, looking much more like the homeowner than I did. The moment he saw me, his eyes flashed with unease, and he quickly looked away, pretending not to notice me. It wasn’t until the meeting ended that he finally came over. “Lily, since you’re here, why don’t you come by the house for a bit?” he asked, smiling warmly. A completely different demeanor from when he ignored me earlier. “Sure,” I said with a smile of my own. “Might as well see what my house looks like now.” His face immediately darkened, and a flash of something cold crossed his eyes. I followed him upstairs. The building wasn’t in bad shape—it had been well-constructed back in the day, no corners cut. It just hadn’t kept up with the rapid pace of urban development. Still, it was perfectly livable. When we entered the apartment, his wife and son were both home. It was a Wednesday—don’t they work? I figured they were all waiting for the demolition payout to finally make their big break. His wife, Mrs. Janet Daniels, had a flat, unremarkable face and a pair of sharp, beady eyes. The moment I stepped inside, she was all smiles, rushing to take my bag and coat. Their son, Ryan Daniels, was 30 years old, 5’7″, and easily over 250 pounds. His face was so bloated with fat that his features were barely distinguishable. His half-closed eyes kept darting over me, his gaze sticky and unsettling. They kept their cool, chatting with me and trying to be hospitable, inviting me to stay for dinner. But the entire time, they never once mentioned the demolition. I had no interest in their hospitality, so I decided to get straight to the point. “Mr. Daniels, Mrs. Daniels, I’m here to tell you that you need to move out in the next few days. I’ve given you notice already, and as I said before, you don’t have to worry about this year’s rent.” The moment I finished speaking, their faces changed. Mrs. Daniels, who had been all smiles, suddenly turned hostile. “What gives you the right to kick us out? We’ve lived here for over ten years. This house is ours now. You can’t make us leave.” Mr. Daniels, in contrast, forced a smile and tried to calm the situation. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. The demolition is still a ways off. No need to rush, right? Let’s not create any unnecessary conflict over this, Lily.” As he spoke, he motioned for me to sit down, pouring a glass of orange soda and handing it to me. I took a sip. Within minutes, the world started spinning, and everything went black. Mr. Daniels had drugged the soda.

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