My husband’s mistress died, murdered after being raped. That afternoon, my husband and I were taken to the police station. I actually had no idea my husband was having an affair. If it weren’t for this murder case, I might have been kept in the dark forever. To investigate the killer, the police took our fingerprints and asked about our whereabouts during the time of the victim’s death. The victim, Mandy Brooks, was 28 years old and an employee at a certain company. She died around 11 PM on July 30, 2019. The cause of death was a severed carotid artery, resulting in death from excessive blood loss. It had been three days since Mandy’s death. With only three days having passed, I naturally remembered the time frame clearly. I distinctly recalled that my husband was with me that night, sleeping very deeply, so I told the truth without hesitation. My husband and I were questioned separately by the police. I was questioned by a man and a woman. The man, Mike Lee, was around thirty years old and the deputy leader of the major crimes unit. The woman, Sharon West, looked to be about twenty-seven or twenty-eight and was quite beautiful. Perhaps because they saw I was pregnant and had just learned about my husband’s infidelity, seeing my red-rimmed eyes, they were afraid I couldn’t handle it psychologically. They were very gentle when questioning me. Sharon, in particular, looked at me with gentle eyes and asked, “Mrs. Thompson, please think carefully. Are you absolutely sure your husband didn’t leave the house that night? Or is it possible that he snuck out while you were sound asleep?” I was taken aback by her question. After considering for a moment, I said, “Officer West, since becoming pregnant, I’ve been sleeping more heavily. So I go to bed early every night. All I can say is that my husband was there when I fell asleep and when I woke up.” Sharon and Mike exchanged glances, and I curiously asked, “Officer West, isn’t it possible to extract DNA left in the victim’s body? If you suspect my husband, you can test for that.” As I said this, I was thinking to myself, they were already having an affair, why would he need to rape her? The killer definitely wasn’t my husband. Seeing my question, Sharon shook her head and said, “The killer was clever and didn’t leave any useful evidence, so this case is a bit complicated to investigate.” I let out an “oh,” and Sharon asked how far along I was in my pregnancy. I told her four and a half months. She smiled and looked at my belly, saying it looked quite large and might be twins. After saying this, she comforted me, saying pregnant women are prone to emotional outbursts and that I should try to stay positive about some things and take good care of myself at home. I was very touched by Sharon’s words and chatted with her for a few more minutes before leaving the police station. I thought my husband would be returning home with me, but Officer Lee told me that my husband still needed to assist with their investigation and couldn’t leave yet. With no other choice, I had to return home alone. Back in our neighborhood, I learned from neighbors that several police officers had come and retrieved surveillance footage from the complex. They had also questioned our neighbors, asking if they had heard our door open between 9 PM and early morning on July 30th. I asked the neighbor how she responded, and she said she hadn’t heard anything, so she answered truthfully. Hearing this, I felt very reassured. I thought my husband would be spending the night at the police station, and when I called him, he didn’t answer. Unexpectedly, just as I had finished dinner and was about to go to bed, he returned. He still had his usual cold demeanor. When I got up to heat some food for him, he stopped me. I asked, “Honey, why didn’t you answer my call earlier?” He said the police had taken his phone to copy his chat history and call records. Thinking about all the lovey-dovey messages between him and that woman on his phone, I felt some disgust. But considering the baby in my belly, I swallowed my feelings. After all, that woman was already dead, what more did I have to fret about? But I was wrong. My lack of concern didn’t mean others wouldn’t care. Just as I was falling asleep, I suddenly felt a violent choking sensation in my throat. Opening my eyes, I realized my husband was frantically squeezing my neck, trying to kill me.

I struggled desperately, pushing against him while gasping out, “Honey… I’m carrying your child… Do you… Do you really want both of us to die?” At the critical moment, my words had an effect. He slowly released my neck, forcefully gripping my shoulders instead. With bloodshot eyes glaring at me, he shouted, “Lyric, tell me, did you hire someone to kill Mandy Brooks?” His enraged appearance terrified me, and I hurriedly explained, “Honey, you’re… you’re wrong about me. I don’t have the guts to do something like that.” “Hmph! Is that so? You’d better hope I don’t find out it was you. Otherwise, I’ll strangle you with my own hands.” After saying this, my husband glared at me viciously one last time before getting off the bed and leaving. That night, he didn’t return to our bedroom, and I tossed and turned, unable to sleep. My mind was filled with images of his furious face. It wasn’t until nearly dawn that I finally dozed off fitfully. The next time I woke up was to the sound of the doorbell ringing. After listening for a while and realizing no one was answering the door, I lazily got out of bed, intending to go downstairs and open it myself. But when I walked down the stairs and saw the state of the living room, I let out a scream of terror. Because I saw my husband, Ethan. He was now motionless, slumped against the sofa, and at his feet was a large pool of blood. My husband had slit his wrists in an apparent suicide, and a bloody scalpel lay discarded on the coffee table. Seeing this horrifying scene, I let out another scream. I didn’t dare look a second time because the image was too terrible. I only felt my whole body go weak and limp, collapsing to the floor, shaking uncontrollably. The doorbell outside kept ringing. Hearing my screams, the ringing became even more urgent. I wanted to go open the door, but I found I had no strength at all. I could only sit on the floor, sobbing. After who knows how long, the door was pried open from the outside. Sharon and Mike entered, followed by two uniformed police officers. When they saw my husband, they were all startled. Mike immediately called for the medical examiner, while Sharon, seeing me sitting on the floor crying, helped me up. The medical examiner arrived quickly and made a preliminary determination that my husband had committed suicide. The estimated time of death was around 2 AM. He didn’t die peacefully; his face was somewhat contorted as if he had experienced something terrifying just before death. Mike told me that my husband was indeed the killer of Mandy Brooks. I found it hard to believe, but he said the evidence was conclusive. He explained that the police had retrieved surveillance footage from both our complex and Mandy’s neighborhood. Although he had managed to avoid the cameras in our complex by using blind spots, because he wasn’t as familiar with the area where Mandy lived, they had captured footage of him at around 10 PM on the night of the incident on one of the cameras. I listened in disbelief as Mike continued, saying that they had found SnapChat messages between my husband and Mandy on his phone, confirming they had planned to meet during those days. So they initially concluded that my husband had committed suicide out of guilt. Hearing this, I felt overwhelmed with grief. I crouched down on the floor, my body shaking uncontrollably like a sieve. My husband’s body was taken away by the police, who said they needed to conduct further examinations. Our home had become a crime scene, with the entire living room cordoned off by police tape. Especially that pool of blood on the floor – it made me feel terrified just looking at it. After I finished giving my statement, Sharon seemed very sympathetic towards me. She put her hand on my shoulder to comfort me, then asked in a low voice, “Lyric, I see bruises on your neck. Did Ethan abuse you?” Her question reminded me of last night’s events. I wiped away my tears and cautiously said, “Last night I confronted him about the affair. He was in a bad mood, so he got physical with me.” Sharon listened thoughtfully, then after a moment of silence said, “The neck is a vital area. He was trying to kill you. Why didn’t you call the police?”

Sharon’s words startled me. I took a deep breath and said, covering my neck, “Officer West, he was my husband, the father of my unborn child.” Seeing me respond this way, Sharon didn’t say anything more. As they prepared to leave, Sharon advised me that if I felt scared staying at home, I could temporarily move to a nearby hotel. She also told me to call her if anything came up. I nodded in agreement and saw them off. I’m a girl from the countryside. My parents still live in our rural hometown, quite far from here. Ethan’s parents are from Concord. After university, both Ethan and I found jobs here, so we bought our marital home in this city. I just never imagined that this spacious 2000 square foot house would now be occupied by me alone. Thinking about this made me feel incredibly sad. I could only go upstairs to pack a few changes of clothes and check into a nearby hotel. After eating a little something, I took out several of my husband’s bank cards and called the online banking customer service. When I checked the balances, I was shocked to discover that my husband had over $5 million in savings across his accounts. Actually, I didn’t know the PINs for my husband’s bank cards. But recently, I had deliberately asked him to take me shopping for baby items at the supermarket. During those repeated payment transactions, I secretly memorized his mobile payment PIN. I guessed that most people, like me, use the same PIN across their mobile payment apps and bank cards to avoid forgetting. Sure enough, my guess was correct – it worked on the first try. Ever since I became pregnant, I had suffered from severe morning sickness, forcing me to quit my job as a makeup artist at a photo studio. My husband was very guarded about money and only gave me $300 a month for living expenses. This was something that really bothered me. After securing the bank cards, feeling exhausted and tired, I unconsciously dozed off on the bed. I ended up having a nightmare. In my dream, I was lying on the bed unable to move, while Mandy Brooks and my husband Ethan were both grinning at me eerily, reaching out their hands to choke me. I suddenly woke up, realizing it was just a dream. Feeling parched, I was about to get up for some water when my phone on the bedside table rang. I picked it up and saw it was Sharon calling, which made my heart skip a beat. I took a deep breath before answering the call. Sharon asked which hotel I was staying at, saying there were some more things they needed to understand. I could only tell her the hotel name. About half an hour later, Sharon arrived, this time by herself without Mike. I let her into the room, and Sharon smiled, asking, “Mrs. Thompson, although your husband’s cause of death appears to be suicide, the autopsy found traces of alprazolam in his system, and quite a high dose at that. Did he usually suffer from any related conditions?” “Alprazolam?” I pondered the drug name for a moment before realizing, “Oh, you mean the sleeping medication? My husband had insomnia. He would only take two pills when he couldn’t sleep.” “Is that so? But the amount detected in your husband’s body wasn’t just two pills. It was at least a dose of five pills. How do you explain that?” Hearing Sharon’s words, I smiled.

I smiled in a way that was more painful than crying. Sighing, I said, “Officer West, if you put yourself in his shoes – if you were my husband and your lover had suddenly died in such a manner, could you sleep peacefully? If he didn’t want to suffer, given his pre-existing insomnia, wouldn’t it make sense to increase the dosage?” My words left Sharon speechless. After a while, she gave me a meaningful look and said, “Mrs. Thompson, I thought that with your husband just deceased, you would be at a loss and deeply saddened. I didn’t expect you to immediately check your husband’s account balances.” Sharon’s words startled me. She continued, “According to our investigation, your husband’s parents are still alive. Now that their only son has died, shouldn’t you notify them?” “My in-laws are elderly. I haven’t figured out how to break the news to them yet. I’m pregnant now, and there will be many expenses in the future. I have to plan ahead. Officer West, the police seem to be quite involved in many aspects.” My tone was not at all polite. Sharon probably didn’t expect someone who looked as gentle and weak as me to speak so firmly. She smiled awkwardly and apologized. Before leaving, she revealed one piece of information to me. She said that a security camera had been installed on the building opposite ours. Due to a recent circuit malfunction in that household, the camera had somehow ended up pointing towards our living room window, capturing partial footage of our living room. She gave me a meaningful smile before departing. Her words left me tossing and turning all night, unable to sleep well. Sure enough, the next day I received another call from Sharon, asking me to come to the police station. She said there were new developments regarding my husband’s cause of death. With an anxious heart, I arrived at the police station and was taken directly to the interrogation room. The interrogators were still Sharon and Mike. I sat silently, waiting for them to speak first. Mike played a video clip on the large screen behind him. It showed a woman wearing a cheongsam. The image was a bit blurry, but the woman’s entire face was captured. She had long, messy hair and looked quite terrifying, like a female ghost. In the footage, she slowly came down the stairs, walked to the window, and drew the curtains. Then nothing more could be seen. I watched in confusion, but even though the living room image wasn’t very clear, I could tell at a glance that it was my home. After watching the video, I asked perplexedly, “Officer West, Officer Lee, who is this woman? How did she get into my house?” Hearing my words, Sharon and Mike exchanged smiles. Sharon said, “Mrs. Thompson, on the night before last, which was when your husband died, only you and he were at home. Are you saying this person isn’t you?” “But that’s not me,” I said angrily. “It doesn’t look like you, but if someone whitened their face and deliberately applied ghost-like makeup, it’s not impossible,” Mike said. “But I’m pregnant. The person in the photo couldn’t be me.” My words left Sharon and Mike looking at each other, unable to refute. Seeing my reaction, Sharon said firmly, “The person in the photo does look very much like the deceased Mandy Brooks, but we absolutely don’t believe in ghosts or spirits. Lyric, can you let me see your belly?” Hearing this, I laughed bitterly, “So you suspect I’m faking my pregnancy?”

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Every girl who comes to the Glitter Nightclub to relax is unaware that there’s a pair of eyes watching them from above. The chosen girls will become “dolls” for the rich that very night. And I’m the driver responsible for transporting these beautiful “dolls”. Today is my first time transporting a beautiful “doll”, and Manager Thompson has assigned Old Bill to show me the ropes. In the rearview mirror, I catch a glimpse of Old Bill’s hand kneading the woman’s full, perky chest. The woman leans against the car window with her eyes closed, her fair face flushed red, looking completely drunk. This woman is so shameless, I think to myself. Old Bill’s hand has slipped inside her underwear, yet she keeps her eyes closed, seemingly enjoying it without making a sound. I’m both envious of Old Bill’s good fortune and utterly disgusted by these women who sell their bodies for money. A month ago, I was hired as security for the Glitter Nightclub. The probation period salary was $500, with a promise of $1000 after becoming a regular employee. Today, I just became a regular employee. Only then did I realize that the doubled salary was for doing this kind of work. They call these women “dolls”. Rich men wait at hotels, and we’re responsible for transporting the “dolls” to them. Although this job isn’t exactly honorable, it’s easy and pays well. I’m just the driver, not the one selling myself, so it’s none of my business. I graduated high school and went straight into the workforce. I’ve worked in factories and construction sites. All the jobs I’ve done before were more tiring than this one. I still cherish this job quite a bit. Old Bill, that old pervert, is getting more and more out of hand. Not satisfied with just touching, he’s now eagerly sucking away, the sound of his slurping making my mind wander. We hit traffic, and I turn my head to look at the scene of debauchery in the back seat. “Old Bill, how much did this woman drink? She’s still not waking up?” Old Bill chuckles, “Don’t worry, she won’t wake up. Brother, check the GPS, how much longer will we be stuck?” I glance at the navigation, there’s about a three-kilometer red line. “Probably about ten minutes of traffic.” “That’s enough, hehe.” Old Bill stands up, unbuckling his belt and pulling out his thing. Damn, his guts are too big. He’s going to do it right here. “Old Bill, isn’t this going too far? The client wants her, and you’re playing with her first. If we get caught, my job…” “Buddy, I know what I’m doing. I won’t really do it, just letting you feast your eyes.” I want to stop him, but Old Bill has already taken off the woman’s top, put on a condom, and started enjoying himself. The woman still has her eyes closed, her red lips slightly parted, occasionally letting out a faint moan. She really is like a living doll that can be manipulated at will. Old Bill, that quick shooter, finishes in less than two minutes. He tidies up the woman’s clothes, takes out a cigarette, lights it, and hands it to me. “Brother, if you ever need anything at Glitter, just ask me.” Taking Old Bill’s cigarette, I don’t say anything. This world is truly bizarre. We soon arrive at the hotel booked by the client. The three of us get into the elevator together. The woman still appears unconscious, relying entirely on Old Bill’s support to walk. Out of the elevator, Old Bill tells me this is a blind spot for surveillance cameras. In the future, always bring the “dolls” here for instructions. He takes out a small bottle and puts it under the woman’s nose, then tells her, “Walk straight ahead to room 1808, knock three times, and go in when the door opens.” The woman seems to be activated, stumbling forward like a drunk person. We watch her enter the room. Old Bill pats my shoulder, “Brother, mission accomplished. Let me treat you to a late-night snack.” I ask confusedly, “Why did she suddenly respond?” “Brother, don’t ask questions you shouldn’t. We just do our job.” Seeing Old Bill’s suddenly serious face, I shut up.

After successfully completing my first “doll” delivery, the manager lets me officially start work. From now on, I can deliver “dolls” independently. The nightclub’s pimping business is very good. I have to deliver at least three “dolls” to hotels every day. The manager repeatedly reminds me that when I let the girls smell the gas from the bottle and tell them the room number, I must avoid the surveillance cameras. Strangely, every girl is in a completely drunk state, supported by me into the car, unconscious the whole way. After I tell them the room number in the hotel corner, they walk into the room like puppets on strings. Even stranger, once when I was patrolling the nightclub, there was a stunning girl in the dance floor, radiating beauty. She was the most beautiful girl in the entire club, and I couldn’t help but keep an eye on her. That night, one of the “dolls” I delivered was that very girl. But just ten minutes before I took her, she was still dancing energetically with her friends in the club. Ten minutes later, when the manager handed her to me to take to the hotel, the girl was completely drunk, needing my support to walk. I felt something was off, but I didn’t investigate further. I figured girls who come to nightclubs late at night aren’t good girls anyway. They’re either there to let loose or to hook up with men. The only difference is that escorts get paid, while these girls willingly sleep with men. And for the sake of my monthly $1000 salary, I didn’t want to get involved. I stuck to the principle of seeing less, saying nothing, and just doing my job, which the manager appreciated. In the third month, besides my salary, the manager gave me a $500 bonus. Today, as usual, the manager handed me a “doll”, and I routinely put her in the car. I despise these women who sell their bodies, so I never bother with them. But today’s “doll”, the more I looked at her in the rearview mirror, the more familiar she seemed. She turned out to be Emily Parker, my high school classmate and the class beauty. In high school, although my grades weren’t great, I was good-looking and could sing well, so quite a few girls sent me love letters. I always liked Emily Parker, the class beauty. Although we didn’t date back then, I knew she had feelings for me. At graduation, when she was drunk, she hugged me and cried, saying she liked me. But after graduation, she went to college in the big city, while I didn’t get into university and entered the workforce early. I later worked as a construction worker in the city and once went to her university to find her. I bought new clothes and excitedly went to see her, coincidentally meeting her and her roommates going to the cafeteria. I invited them all to eat together. At first, everyone was happy, but when they heard I worked at a construction site, their expressions changed. They all made excuses and left, pulling Emily along. Emily looked at me hesitantly, seeming troubled, but in the end, she left with them. That day, I drank a bottle of liquor alone in the restaurant. She looked down on me. I hadn’t seen Emily Parker since then, almost ten years now. Snapping back to the present, Emily is still beautiful, with fair skin and a slender yet curvy figure. Compared to her pure look in high school, she’s added some mature feminine charm, making her even more alluring. I just never imagined she’d end up in this line of work. Her family was well-off when we were in school. Is she so desperate for money now? I kept glancing at her in the rearview mirror, hoping she’d notice me, yet afraid she’d recognize me and make things awkward. Now she’s out selling herself, and I’m the driver taking her to meet a client. Time really is a butcher’s knife, slaughtering people beyond recognition. Feigning calmness, I asked, “Miss, would you like some water?” As the car turned a corner, her head tilted to one side, her long hair covering her face, making it impossible to see her expression. Maybe she doesn’t want to talk to me. These women who sell their bodies for money only have eyes for rich men, they never pay attention to someone like me. It’s just that seeing the girl I once liked fall so low makes me feel awful. I gathered my courage and said, “Emily Parker, it’s me, Jack Wilson. Do you remember me? We were classmates in high school.” “You went to college in the city, and I even came to find you once.” “How have you been all these years? If you’re in any trouble, I can help you. Can’t you stop doing this work?” I said a lot, but she still didn’t respond. I started to feel angry. She still looks down on me, doesn’t she? I’ve heard that women of her caliber are called high-class escorts. They charge at least a few hundred dollars for one night, sometimes even thousands. We were almost at the hotel when the manager suddenly called. “Jack, don’t you dare try anything funny. This ‘doll’ must be delivered properly.” “If anything goes wrong, you’ll face serious consequences.” I hurriedly replied, “Manager, don’t worry. I guarantee I’ll deliver her safely.” I didn’t want to lose my job over a woman like this, but how did the manager know to call and scold me at such a convenient time? Could it be that we’re monitored every time we deliver a “doll”? The thought made me break out in a cold sweat. Despite the mixed emotions of delivering the girl I liked to another man’s bed, I still successfully sent Emily Parker into the room. After watching her walk in, I quickly fled the scene and returned to the nightclub.

A waiter said the manager was waiting for me on the second floor. He led me to the elevator. The second floor was the VIP area of the nightclub, never accessible to ordinary people, and the entrance was very discreet, requiring a guide. The waiter winked at me, “You’re in for a treat tonight.” I didn’t understand what he meant and walked through the long, dark corridor in confusion. The manager was waiting for me in front of a glass wall. From here, you could overlook the entire nightclub, with an excellent view. Besides the manager, there was another man on the second floor, in his forties, pot-bellied, wearing prayer beads on his hand. He looked like a wealthy businessman. The manager raised his hand to stop me from speaking, “Watch carefully, and don’t say anything.” I nodded and stood to the side. The manager smiled obsequiously, “Mr. Blackwell, how do you like today’s dolls? You can pick any doll from the floor, and we’ll send her directly to your room.” Mr. Blackwell stared intently at the floor below, “There’s no risk, right?” “Rest assured, we guarantee zero risk. We’ll handle everything from start to finish cleanly. Just tell me if there are any you like down there?” “There are a few that look quite nice.” The manager handed a remote control to Mr. Blackwell, “This handle controls the direction. When you’ve chosen a doll, just press the confirm button.” Mr. Blackwell chuckled, “You guys really know how to play. This is just like the claw machine my daughter loves.” The manager gave a thumbs up, “Mr. Blackwell, you’re so insightful. This is indeed our version of a claw machine.” Mr. Blackwell laughed heartily. As Mr. Blackwell moved the handle, a beam of light moved across the nightclub floor. No one below paid attention, thinking it was just part of the club’s lighting effects. Those caught in the light became even more excited in their dancing. Little did they know, this was a remote control in the hands of a devil, capable of arbitrarily deciding a girl’s fate for the night. As the light beam settled on a short-haired girl, Mr. Blackwell had chosen today’s “doll”. The girl was completely unaware that her nightmare was about to begin. A beautiful woman approached her, led her to sit at the bar, and chatted with her amiably. The woman handed the girl a drink. After a couple of sips, the girl slumped over the bar counter, as if drunk. These rich people treat ordinary people like playthings, and I had become an accomplice. Realizing this, a chill ran from the soles of my feet to the top of my head. Mr. Blackwell left, satisfied with his new toy. He was eager to go enjoy today’s “doll”.

I don’t want to earn this dirty money anymore. The manager seemed to see through my thoughts. He sneered, “You know how many women you’ve delivered over these three months. We’re all in the same boat now. You want to walk away clean? Don’t dream.” The manager looked down at the floor and gestured to me, “Pick a doll. This is a benefit for new employees. Go enjoy yourself tonight.” I pleaded, “Manager, you know I can keep my mouth shut. Please let me leave. I promise I’ll keep everything here buried in my gut.” “Refusing the carrot and asking for the stick, huh?” The manager picked up the walkie-talkie and said, “Old Bill, call a few guys up here. Teach this kid a lesson.” Soon, three burly men came up. They were all security guards who usually patrolled with me. Damn, they didn’t show any courtesy to a colleague. They beat me up badly. I suspect they’ve always disliked me and were taking this chance for revenge. They were all ruthless guys. It seemed I couldn’t escape this black nightclub. Not wanting to be beaten to death, I quickly begged the manager for mercy. The manager handed me the remote control with a smile, “If you had agreed earlier, you wouldn’t have had to take a beating. It’s good you’ve come around now.” Holding the remote, I figured if I had to sleep with someone, I might as well choose a pretty one. I selected a young, beautiful long-haired girl. The manager told me to go to the hotel and wait. About half an hour later, the girl knocked on my door. The girl stumbled into the room, collapsing directly onto the bed, falling into a deep sleep. This girl wore a black V-neck bodycon dress, her chest white and full, with a deep cleavage inviting imagination. The skirt barely reached her thighs, her long black hair cascading down. She had on exquisite makeup, now looking like a lifeless doll. The manager made a video call, which I quickly answered. “Position your phone at a good angle. I want to watch you do it.” “Manager, this isn’t right. I’m not comfortable doing this with someone watching.” “Cut the crap. If you want to live, do as I say.” I quickly positioned the phone and resigned myself to completing the task. Having been at the nightclub for so long, I’d learned quite a bit. I’d heard of a “compliance drug” that, once consumed, makes a person completely obedient, following any instruction without resistance. And after a night, they remember nothing. I suspected they gave the girls this “compliance drug”. This girl’s body was completely limp. A drunk person would still move, but she had no reaction at all. “Now go kiss her, undress her. Any male dog knows what to do after that, so I don’t need to teach you, right?” The manager instructed through the video call. Resigned to my fate, I crawled on top of the girl, kissing and touching her. The girl’s perfume smelled very nice. Her young, full body and elastic skin… I hadn’t been with a woman for a long time. The fire of desire quickly burned away my rationality.

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I’m known in my social circle as a feisty woman who never holds back her words. My mom always said I’d have a tough time after getting married. But surprisingly, I ended up with a husband who dotes on me, and a mother-in-law with a soft personality. As a result, I found myself with no outlet for my fiery temperament, and my married life was almost boringly blissful. That is, until my father-in-law’s old flame returned from abroad, and my mother-in-law started getting pushed around. I cracked my knuckles, ready to strike back! My dad has always been a total softie when it comes to me. Growing up, there was nothing I couldn’t have if I wanted it. But my mom, on the other hand, has always been too nice for her own good. If anyone asked for something, she’d give it away without a second thought. So when I was little, from my toys to our household appliances, relatives, neighbors, and even strangers could just take whatever they wanted. She was even obsessed with helping her brother. My dad would earn money, and she’d insist on buying a house, a car, and even paying for my uncle’s wedding. She even offered to take care of their kids. My dad indulged my mom because she had a tough childhood, but she took advantage of his kindness. After countless failed protests, I developed my feisty personality and sharp tongue. Anyone who crossed my path, even a stray dog, would feel my wrath. From then on, no one could take even a needle or thread from our house. I even set the PINs for my parents’ bank accounts. My spineless mom would cry in my dad’s arms, saying, “This child doesn’t know how to share. How will she survive in society?” I’d roll my eyes and retort, “If you’re so good at sharing, why don’t you share your husband? I wouldn’t mind having a stepmom.” Letting people walk all over you isn’t kindness; it’s weakness. If it weren’t for me, my dad would have given away two-thirds of his assets because of my mom. Throwing tantrums became my forte. At the slightest provocation, I’d dramatically crawl on the ground. Eventually, my uncle’s family stopped visiting. Whenever my cousin started crying, my aunt would knock on the window and say, “Your cousin is coming!” My cousin would immediately shut up. Everyone said that Cassandra, old Wang’s daughter, was such a shrew that she’d never get married. But not only did I get married, I married up. After the wedding, we lived in harmony, and I found myself with no outlet for my fiery personality.

I met my husband, Luke, through a blind date. During our first meeting, I warned him about my bad temper and told him to think carefully. To my surprise, he blushed and said he actually wanted someone with a strong personality. My father-in-law, Robert, is the CEO of an import-export company, while my mother-in-law, Helen, owns a chain of kindergartens. Luke and I meeting was pure coincidence. He was at the restaurant for a business meeting when I mistook him for my blind date. He fell for me at first sight and made it clear he wouldn’t marry anyone else. When we met the parents, my father-in-law wasn’t pleased to learn I was just a small factory owner’s daughter with a notorious temper. He was a million times against the marriage, but Luke threatened to end his life if he couldn’t marry me. So, I became Mrs. Shen. I expected chaos and drama after moving in, but my mother-in-law turned out to be quiet and never gave me a hard time. She always spoke in a gentle voice. All my expectations of epic mother-in-law battles went up in smoke. Two years into the marriage, our family life was almost scarily harmonious. Until my father-in-law’s old flame, Vanessa, called and asked him to meet her abroad. That was the first time I saw my mother-in-law lose her composure. I immediately went to dig through our family albums. When I saw photos of Vanessa snuggling up to my father-in-law, I understood why my mother-in-law was so upset. Anyone could see that this woman had an unusual relationship with my father-in-law. I mean, who takes photos pressed up against someone else’s body like that? This was even more intimate than my in-laws’ wedding photos. And this was thirty years ago when society was more conservative. If it were today, I bet Vanessa would be right in between my father-in-law and mother-in-law in bed!

The next day, I drove my car to play mahjong with some ladies. After a few rounds, I had dug up all the dirt on this Vanessa. I never imagined I’d stumble upon a plot straight out of a soap opera. It turns out that Vanessa and my mother-in-law, Helen, were switched at birth in the hospital. It wasn’t until they were eighteen that the He family discovered the mix-up and brought Helen back home. Although Helen hadn’t grown up in luxury, her foster parents had never neglected her, and she had grown into a graceful and well-mannered young lady. Vanessa, used to her life of privilege, refused to return to her birth parents. So the He family ended up raising both girls. At the time, Vanessa had a childhood sweetheart – my father-in-law, Robert. They grew up together, and Robert always took care of her. The Shen and He families were close, so they were betrothed from a young age. Later, the Shen family’s business took a downturn, and they faced financial difficulties. Vanessa broke off the engagement and married the son of an oil tycoon she had only known for a few days. Their marriage was opposed by the He family. Vanessa cut ties with them, claiming she wasn’t their biological child and they had no right to interfere in her marriage. She left for abroad to marry the rich heir. This incident broke the hearts of the He family and Robert. It was at this time that Helen entered Robert’s life. They supported each other and gradually fell in love. Vanessa had broken the engagement, and the He family, feeling guilty towards the Shen family, fully supported Helen and Robert’s relationship. Old Mr. He invested a million dollars in the Shen family business. With this financial support, Robert took a risk and eventually turned the business around. Together with Helen, they made the Shen family business thrive once again. Later, they naturally got married and had a child. Before the wedding, Robert sent Vanessa an invitation. But Vanessa never responded and didn’t show up on the wedding day. After marriage, Robert and Helen lived in mutual respect and affection. Their life was simple but happy. But everyone in the family, except me, knew that Vanessa was Robert’s true love. No one dared to mention her name; he’d fly into a rage if anyone did. I wanted to see what this nearly fifty-year-old “moon” could do.

Faced with my father-in-law rushing abroad, my mother-in-law Helen didn’t show any reaction. She even thoughtfully packed his luggage for him. But after he left, she cried alone in the bedroom. I swung my little handbag and pushed open the door to my mother-in-law’s bedroom. “Mom~ Want to get our nails done? Super long ones that could kill someone!” Helen quickly wiped away her tears and composed herself before talking to me. “Cassandra, you go ahead. I’ll give you some money.” “If you think it’s inconvenient to keep going out for manicures, we can hire a nail technician to come to the house. I’ll cover it.” Looking at the credit card my mother-in-law handed me, I wanted to hug her and call her my real mom. Just as I was about to reach for it, I caught a glimpse of her phone screen and realized she was looking at Vanessa’s social media posts. “Mom, let me see!” Helen sighed deeply and handed me her phone. I was shocked by what I saw. Vanessa had brazenly posted selfies with my father-in-law Robert on her social media, with captions like: “After all this time, it’s still you.” There was even a photo from above, showing Robert tying her shoelaces. Caption: “Only big brother still treats me like a little girl~” There was even a photo someone else took, with Robert giving her a piggyback ride, her face resting on his shoulder, looking all lovey-dovey. Caption: “After so many years, our feelings haven’t changed.” She posted seven or eight similar posts, more than most people post during an entire vacation. I couldn’t bear to look anymore and handed the phone back to Helen. “Mom, is your husband having an affair?”

Helen took back the phone, looking like she was about to cry again. I can’t stand seeing her cry. She’s rich and beautiful, why should she cry over a man? “I mean, Mom, why don’t you just divorce this cheap husband and live your best life?” Helen shook her head. “Cassandra, I’ve spent more than half my life with him. Even now, I still have feelings for him, otherwise I wouldn’t be so upset.” “Forget it, Cassandra. Go shopping! Don’t let this mess ruin your mood. Buy whatever gold jewelry you like, use Mom’s cards.” Good lord, she’s not just a mother-in-law, she’s a walking ATM! I took the five cards Helen gave me and tucked them safely in my pocket. If you pay me, I’ll do the job. I might as well help her deal with that old cheater! “It’s just an old gold digger! Don’t worry, Mom, I’ll handle it!” A few days later, my father-in-law returned from abroad. My mother-in-law and I watched him enter the yard. Vanessa was clinging to his left arm, and he was holding a little girl’s hand on his right. Vanessa wore a white form-fitting cheongsam with sparkling jewelry around her neck. Whether intentional or not, Robert was also dressed in a white suit, and even the little girl wore a white princess dress. Anyone who didn’t know better would think they were a family of three in matching outfits! I rolled up my sleeves, ready to pounce. “Oh~ This must be Aunt Vanessa! Welcome, welcome! What’s wrong? Did you break your foot? Quick! Let me, your junior, help you!” Seeing me come out, my father-in-law immediately pulled his arm away from Vanessa. “Vanessa, this is Cassandra, my daughter-in-law.” Vanessa wore an unreadable expression as she politely extended her hand to me. “Hello, but why do you ask if I broke my foot?” I didn’t shake her hand, instead covering my mouth in mock surprise. “Oh my! If your foot isn’t broken, why are you clinging to someone else’s husband’s arm? Oh no! Don’t tell me! Aunt Vanessa, you didn’t do this on purpose, did you?” “OMG! Did you come back just to steal someone else’s husband?”

I didn’t expect to come on so strong right away, catching Vanessa off guard. In an instant, her eyes reddened, and she made a move to lean on Robert. I quickly squeezed Robert aside and steadily offered Vanessa my shoulder. “Auntie, I was just joking! Look at you! Did I hurt your feelings?” Unable to stand my sarcasm, Robert shouted at me. “Cassandra! What are you doing? Your Aunt Vanessa just arrived, how can you speak to her like that?” “I can see my son has spoiled you rotten! Apologize to your aunt right now!” Just as he was about to say more nonsense, I cut him off. “Auntie, I’m just the daughter of a small factory owner. I’m uneducated and uncultured, and I like to talk nonsense. You’re a big person, surely you won’t take offense at a kid like me, right?” Seeing me back down so quickly caught Vanessa off guard, leaving her speechless. Robert pointed at me, sputtering “You… you…” for a while, unable to say anything. My mother-in-law watched my performance with wide eyes before finally coming out. She walked towards the three of them, heading into the house, giving me a thumbs up behind her back. Well, what can I say? I’ve been staying at home with nothing better to do. At dinner, Vanessa kept putting food in Helen’s bowl. “Sister, thank you for taking care of Robert all these years.” Before Helen could respond, Robert waved his hand. “Vanessa, don’t worry about her. Look how thin you are, you should eat more.” He then put a piece of braised pork in Vanessa’s bowl. Vanessa daintily took a small bite of the lean meat, then put the fatty part in Helen’s bowl, giggling. “Sister~ I remember when we were little, you always liked to eat my leftovers. Back then, Mom and Dad always said you spoiled me the most. Do you remember?”

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In my past life, I was in excruciating pain giving birth, yet my husband had the nerve to make a fuss about the doctor being male? After being reborn, I kicked Jake right in his manhood. Then I called 911. This time, he’d never be able to have children again. The day I went into the operating room to give birth, my husband Jake started causing a scene because the surgeon was male. The nurse tried to explain urgently: “Sir, your wife’s condition is critical. We need to operate immediately, or both mother and child could die. All our female surgeons are busy with other operations right now.” Jake ignored her and started beating up the male doctor: “You pervert! No one but me is allowed to see my wife’s body!” My clothes were soaked with sweat from the pain. I struggled to speak: “Honey, please let them do the surgery. I can’t hold on much longer.” Jake’s eyes were bloodshot: “I never expected you to be such an immoral woman. Let me make this clear – if you let another man see you, I won’t accept you anymore.” Hearing this, I felt a surge of anger, then everything went black. When I opened my eyes again, I had returned to when Jake and I first got together. Even seeing Jake in front of me, it still felt surreal. Jake and I started dating in our freshman year of college. I was actually the one who pursued him. To be honest, Jake was average looking, average height, and didn’t have much going for him. But back then, I was drawn to his arrogant attitude. I ignored all the better guys chasing me and went after him instead. Blinded by love, I gave up my life as a rich girl to struggle alongside him, eating nothing but plain bread every day. I even hid my wealthy background to avoid hurting his pride. I thought I was being so noble, unlike those materialistic girls. Looking back now, I just want to slap myself! Jake noticed me staring at him and frowned: “Rachel, can you stop staring at men all the time? It makes you look loose and improper.” Hearing those familiar words, I felt a surge of anger. In my past life, I was brainless enough to let him manipulate me like that. But I’ve already died once – why would I listen to his bullshit again? To hell with being “loose”! I frowned back at him: “Jake, can you stop calling a girl loose all the time? It makes you sound like a total jerk!” Jake’s expression darkened. From when I first started chasing him until now, I had never talked back to him once. He came from a rural area, but his mindset was still backwards and chauvinistic. Jake was clearly angry, and started lecturing me again: “Rachel, I’m with you because I thought you were different from those sluts who show off their bodies. A woman should know her place – be a good wife and mother. I didn’t expect you to be just like them after all.” Hah! I laughed coldly inside. He sounded so righteous, but I had caught him ogling other girls’ long legs on campus more than once. But I still apologized meekly. When his expression softened a bit as he decided to magnanimously forgive me, I seized the opportunity: “To make it up to you, let me treat you to a meal!” He nodded in agreement. Since we had only been together a short while, he had no idea about my financial situation. He probably thought I was just going to treat him to an $8 bowl of noodles in the cafeteria. But when I hailed a taxi and brought him to an upscale restaurant, he didn’t even have the courage to go inside. “This is ridiculous! Rachel, do you know how much a meal here costs? We’re just ordinary students, can’t you be more down-to-earth? Don’t expect me to pay if you can’t afford it! I’m telling you now, I absolutely won’t cover for you!” I wasn’t bothered by his words. I just put on a shocked and confused expression: “It’s not that expensive here. I eat here all the time.” Seeing his increasingly dark face, I asked innocently: “Where do you usually eat?” Jake clearly didn’t believe me and kept making sarcastic remarks. Until we went inside and a waiter greeted me warmly: “Welcome back, Miss Wilson!” I gave Jake a pitiful look: “See? I wasn’t lying to you.” I confidently led the way to a window seat. Jake was visibly uncomfortable, not knowing where to put his hands. But he still tried to maintain his usual aloof attitude. I knew that on the surface he was trying to act calm, but inside he was panicking. I handed him the menu, pretending to be eager to please: “Take a look and see what you’d like to eat.” Jake’s eyes widened at the expensive prices, but he coldly pushed the menu back to me, trying to act cool: “None of these dishes look appetizing to me.” I didn’t insist and ordered a bunch of my favorite dishes, all very strongly flavored. I knew Jake preferred bland food. In my past life, I had given up my own tastes to cater to his. This time, I absolutely wouldn’t. When the food arrived, I dug in with gusto. Jake looked displeased: “Rachel, you should ask your guest what they like instead of just ordering what you want. It’s very impolite.” “But I asked you to order and you didn’t!” Jake was speechless after being called out like that. Seeing him at a loss for words delighted me. Watching me eat so heartily, he unconsciously swallowed and sneaked glances at me while clumsily trying to cut his steak with a knife and fork. He was actually doing it correctly by imitating others, but I deliberately gave him a hesitant look. He became very uncomfortable under my gaze, probably feeling quite tormented inside. But his pride and insecurity made him lash out: “Rachel, didn’t I tell you not to stare at men? It’s slutty.” I lowered my head with a complex expression and stopped looking at him, then started enjoying my delicious meal. He must be in turmoil inside now, desperately wondering what he did wrong. Let him stew in it!

Ever since I took him to that fancy restaurant, his lectures became more and more frequent. He was always going on about being frugal, the glory of farmers, the evils of capitalism, telling me to be more considerate since my parents work hard for their money, not to waste it, to be self-reliant. In my past life, hearing such talk would make me think he was an idealistic, ambitious young man with great potential. Now I see… Hah! He was just trying to drag me down to hell with him because of his own insecurities. On the surface I acted obedient, but I still bought things so expensive even I found them pricey, and “accidentally” let him know the cost. I also often bought him things that were astronomical to him but cheap for me. Letting him struggle between disapproving of my spending and enjoying the fruits of money. While he was conflicted, I suggested introducing him to my friends. A bunch of rich playboys, notorious for their womanizing ways. Jake was very resistant at first, trying to lecture me on proper female behavior again. “Rachel, you shouldn’t interact with any men besides me. That’s what a good girl should do.” “But if you connect with them, it could be a huge boost for your future career. Don’t you want to avoid ending up like millions of other graduates, sending out resumes that disappear into a black hole?” Sure enough, I had hit Jake’s sore spot. He agreed. He even specially wore what he considered proper attire on the day we met – a suit I had bought him. He kept asking me over and over if he looked appropriate. I smirked to myself. Of course it was appropriate! But they were just a bunch of playboys. Who dresses so formally to go out and party? Moreover, did he really think it would be so easy to network with them? Sure enough, when we arrived at the club, his outfit stood out like a sore thumb. He looked around curiously, watching the beautiful women dancing nearby. I could see him trying hard to suppress the excitement in his eyes, quickening his pace as if he couldn’t wait to meet those playboys. As if through this meeting, he could instantly become successful. The door to the private room opened, and the men and women inside flocked to greet me, completely ignoring Jake. After leaving Jake hanging for a while, I finally remembered him and introduced him: “This is my boyfriend, Jake.” My friend asked curiously: “I don’t recognize this guy. Which family is he from?” Chris also chimed in sarcastically: “Who wears a suit to go clubbing?” Chris’s brother had a crush on me and pursued me for two years. He was even a top student. Seeing the girl his brother liked snatched away by someone else, Chris’s hostility towards Jake was off the charts. Jake looked at their flip flops and baggy shorts, realizing his suit really did stand out. He was used to bossing me around, and actually had the nerve to criticize me in front of everyone: “Why didn’t you remind me? You made me embarrass myself in public.” These people may be party animals, but they were still my childhood friends. Hearing him talk to me like that, Chris was the first to speak up. He contemptuously fingered Jake’s suit: “Bro, you’d embarrass yourself wearing this even to a formal event. What kind of trash suit is this?” Everyone except Jake burst out laughing, while I tried hard to hold back my own laughter. Jake immediately retorted: “Do you know how much this suit cost? Two hundred dollars!” “Bahahaha!” This set off another round of laughter. Especially Chris, who was laughing so hard he could barely breathe, as if he’d heard the funniest joke ever. For these rich kids, custom tailored suits were the norm. A $200 suit wasn’t even fit to leave the house in. Jake still didn’t understand, thinking they didn’t believe him. He kept explaining: “This suit really was $200! I still have the receipt! Rachel, tell them!” Jake kept pushing me urgently. I finally spoke up: “This suit cost me $200 when I bought it for him.” Chris patted my shoulder. I immediately felt Jake’s murderous glare. Of course, it was directed at me. He wouldn’t dare look at Chris that way. “Rachel, even if you’re keeping a boy toy, you can’t be this stingy. Only $200?” I sighed wistfully: “I’ve been a bit short on cash lately.” My girlfriend looked at Jake with disdain: “What’s the point of a man who can’t even support his woman?” Chris suddenly put his arm around Jake’s neck, trying to pull him onto the couch. Jake’s body visibly stiffened. Seeing Jake uncooperative, Chris slapped him on the head, knocking Jake’s glasses to the floor. Chris said mockingly: “So sorry! I’m used to smacking my lackeys around. You look so much like my bootlicker I did it without thinking.” Then Chris asked me with a cheeky grin: “You’re not mad at me, right Rachel?” “Chris, you’ve gone too far!” That’s what I said, but anyone who knew me could tell I wasn’t actually angry. I pulled Jake away to leave.

At the entrance, Jake exploded at me: “Rachel, look at the kind of friends you have! No class at all! Why didn’t you dodge when that guy touched your shoulder earlier? Do you enjoy physical contact with other men that much? And why did you tell them I bought this suit? Were you happy to see me humiliated?” I said tearfully: “But you have to suffer to succeed. Don’t you want to live that carefree lifestyle? Don’t you want to stay and develop your career in this big city? Don’t you want to make it big? If you network well with them and use their resources, you could become hugely successful!” Jake still frowned: “But why did you buy me such a cheap suit?” I wanted to vomit. He got a free suit without spending a cent and should count himself lucky. Did he really expect a suit worth tens of thousands? But I still pretended to be wronged: “My parents don’t approve of us being together, so they cut off my allowance. I wanted to use my connections to help your future career. If you use my network well, becoming a millionaire won’t be a problem in the future.” Jake’s eyes lit up, clearly very tempted. But he still put on an act: “Rachel, these resources are wasted on you anyway since you don’t have the ability to use them. You focus on building connections for me. When I make it big in the future, I’ll definitely take good care of you.” Oh, trying to manipulate me again? Fine, I’ll play along since you’re trying so hard! I said regretfully: “Jake, you’re so talented. It’s a shame you weren’t born into a good family. Unlike me – I have no real skills but was lucky to be born rich.” The jealousy and resentment in Jake’s eyes were about to come alive and spurt out. This was the effect I wanted. The higher I build him up, the harder he’ll fall. A day later, my parents came to campus in a Rolls-Royce to find Jake. Meanwhile, I was out shopping for luxury goods with my girlfriends, completely unaware of this. By the time I found out, Jake had already angrily called me to come back immediately. Why not just tell me on the phone? Because he’s too cheap to pay for the call. I agreed to come back soon, but actually continued shopping. Less than a minute later, my mom called. I had a headache. Why didn’t I think of this? Letting those people know I had a boyfriend meant my parents would find out too. “Rachel, yesterday Chris told me you have a boyfriend. I went to see him today – he’s no good, his ambition is written all over his face. I offered him $100,000 to leave you, and he had the nerve to say it wasn’t enough!” My mom ranted angrily for a long time. As I listened, I started crying. In my past life when I married Jake, how did she ever convince herself to accept it? I comforted her: “Mom, don’t worry. I’m not actually in love with him.” “Then why did you…” “Mom, don’t ask. I promise I won’t fall for him. Trust me.” Hearing that, my mom stopped questioning and just reminded me not to let that guy take advantage of me. It was evening by the time I leisurely returned. “What took you so long? Don’t you know I had something urgent to discuss?” What a henpecked man. How was I so blind as to fall for him in my past life? Now that he had seen a glimpse of high society and understood my family’s wealth, his greedy nature definitely wouldn’t let go of such a big piece of meat. It was time to flip our positions! I sat down and crossed my legs, seeming a bit indifferent: “Are you the only one allowed to have things to do? Am I not allowed to be busy?” Jake’s tone was full of sarcasm: “What could you possibly be busy with?” “My mom said she’s buying me a Mercedes and told me to go pick one out.” “What a waste to buy it for you.”

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I’m a twin, and my mother hates the introverted me while favoring my lively and cute sister. She gives the best to my sister, raising her to be beautiful and adorable, while I’m treated more like a dog. Until one day, my mother called my sister’s name while looking at me. Suddenly, I saw hope, my eyes lighting up as I looked at my sister lying unconscious on the ground. I’ve been allergic to milk since I was little, but my mom works at a dairy factory, and breakfast is always just milk. My sister is allergic too. She breaks out in hives all over when she drinks it, but she never told mom to avoid upsetting her. My sister forces me to drink her share every day, so I’ve had red rashes on my face for years, which eventually left dark spots. Mom always calls me Freckle Face and doesn’t like how self-conscious and timid I am. She prefers my sister’s lively and cute personality. My sister hates me too because we have the same face, but mine is always covered in freckles, so she makes me cover my face with thick hair and a mask. She also makes me tell others that I’m allergic to dust and doesn’t let me admit that I’m her twin sister. At school, wherever my sister is, there’s laughter and admiration, but when I appear, even the liveliest scene instantly goes cold. They hate me, but no one wants to be the bad guy and say it out loud, so they choose to ignore me. My sister’s grades have always been good, all thanks to me cheating for her. Her grades are fake, but the admiration she gets is real. Beautiful and smart, my sister became the school belle, while I’m the school’s despised plague.

Coming home from school, I was suddenly kicked over while taking off my shoes in the entryway. He stepped on me twice, muttering about bad luck. This man is mom’s new boyfriend, a drunkard and a thug, but mom always fantasizes that he’ll give her a better life. Every time this thug comes to our house to see mom, he beats me up before leaving. I don’t know why, but he always seems particularly refreshed after beating me when he’s initially irritated. After finishing his cigarette, he flicked the butt into my collar. I frantically rolled against the wall, trying to get it out. He mocked me, saying I’m not even as good as a dog – at least other dogs would bark when bullied. But I just lower my head and stay silent when bullied. When dinner is ready, mom and my sister usually come home. I can only eat after they finish. Mom doesn’t want to eat leftovers, so I have to finish whatever they leave, which has made me fatter and uglier. I have no friends and no fixed room. I usually sleep in the attic, and sometimes when mom gets angry, she kicks me out. I sleep in the shed in the backyard. It’s big enough for me, and we’ve never actually kept a dog. One rainy day, Mrs. Wilson from next door saw me sleeping in the shed and kindly took me to her house to rest. I sat in her living room by the warm fireplace, listening to Mrs. Wilson tell stories while knitting. Mrs. Wilson is kind-hearted and often invites me over to play. She’s the only one who doesn’t despise me. I really wish she was my real grandmother. One day on my way home from school, a stone suddenly hit my head. I turned around to see a group of girls, with my sister in the middle. One of the girls said, “So, is she really a ghost? How come she doesn’t react when hit?” My sister stared at me and smiled, saying, “She’s Freckle Face. I’ve heard her mom call her that.” The group burst into laughter. I hugged my backpack tightly, wanting to run, but they surrounded me. They told me to drop out of school, saying they didn’t want to see such an unlucky person at school. I can’t drop out. I’ve been enduring everything just to stay in school, just to not leave this home. They threw my backpack into the river. Encouraged by the others, my sister stuck her chewing gum in my hair. It was dark when I finally got home, hugging my wet backpack. I didn’t dare go inside, so I went to Mrs. Wilson next door. Mrs. Wilson lit a fire for me again and helped bandage the wound on my head. I hugged her and cried, deeply moved. In this world, only Mrs. Wilson is so kind to me. Mrs. Wilson stroked my head and said that if she hadn’t said those things back then, maybe I wouldn’t be treated like this.

My crying stopped abruptly as I listened quietly to her talk about what happened after I was born. Before getting pregnant, my mom had been assaulted by a coworker at the factory, and then she had my sister and me with my dad. Mrs. Wilson discovered this and spread the news, instantly shattering the harmony in our family. My dad left, unable to bear the rumors, and my mom raised my sister and me alone. When I was five, Mrs. Wilson said in front of my mom that my sister looked more like our dad, both in temperament and appearance. From that moment, mom became convinced that I was the rapist’s child, while my sister was her child with dad. I asked Mrs. Wilson why she thought my sister looked more like dad. She said it was just a joke at the time, but she didn’t expect my mom to take it seriously. It was from that year on that mom started to despise me, treating me like an abandoned child. I asked Mrs. Wilson why she never thought to explain. She shook her head, saying she didn’t want to lose face. Because she didn’t want to lose face, Mrs. Wilson never explained her joke. She just watched me grow up like this. The next day, Mrs. Wilson passed away at home. Perhaps knowing her time was near, she told me those things the night before. I was the first to know about Mrs. Wilson’s death. She had a letter to send to her children. The letter wasn’t sent before she died, so I helped mail it out. Mrs. Wilson’s family, receiving the letter, thought she was still well and went on vacation worry-free. It wasn’t until a month later when they returned home that they saw Mrs. Wilson’s body. When I couldn’t go home, I often sat outside Mrs. Wilson’s house, not daring to go in or tell anyone. Until Mrs. Wilson’s disfigured body was carried away, and her house became empty. Mrs. Wilson had said she wanted to leave with dignity and cleanliness. I didn’t tell anyone she had died, until her body decomposed and maggots crawled over it. Let this be my little joke in return.

Without Mrs. Wilson’s companionship, my life seemed to get harder. Luke wanted to break up with mom. Mom quit her job, spending her days drinking and coming home late. As soon as mom gets home, she goes to the attic to beat me, saying it’s my bad luck that made Luke not want to see her anymore. The first time I saw mom cry was because of that thug Luke. The next day, I waited outside the bar where Luke usually hangs out. After waiting all night without seeing him come out, I was about to leave when I was kicked down again. Luke dragged me into an alley and beat me up. It was clear he had been in a bad mood lately because he hit harder than usual. As he was pulling open my collar, he saw the whiteness of my neck and suddenly became interested. “You little Freckle Face, your skin’s not bad. Let me see what it looks like inside,” Luke said as he tried to tear off my clothes. I got scared and frantically grabbed a tree branch, stabbing his eye and blinding it. Luke kicked me hard in anger. During the interval when he was howling and covering his eye, I quickly got up and ran. I had only come to find him to ask him to go see my mom and not make her sad anymore. I didn’t expect to blind his eye. Luke roared that he would kill me once his eye healed. I’m not afraid of him, but I’m scared of what mom would do if she found out. Would she kick me out for good? When I got home, I collapsed on the floor, clutching my stomach in pain. My sister and mom were home, but they didn’t care about me at all. In my daze, I felt like I was about to be beaten to death. It wasn’t until mom came home late at night and kicked me as she passed by that I woke up. I responded softly. Knowing I was still alive, mom seemed a bit disappointed. As she was about to go back to her room, I grabbed her foot. Like a dog that wouldn’t let go, no matter how much she kicked. “You little Freckle Face, you’re getting more and more annoying!” Mom said as she kicked me away, “You won’t be going to school next year. As long as Zoey gets into Harvard, we’ll move to another city.” At that time, they’ll abandon me, right? I don’t want to be abandoned. Before next year comes, I need to do something for myself.

I pushed open Zoey’s door. Seeing me, she threw a book at me in annoyance. I picked up the book from the floor and smiled at Zoey, saying, “I can help you cheat and get the top grade in the year.” Zoey was a bit skeptical. In previous exams, my guessing of questions at most helped her rank in the top fifty of the year. “With the top grade in the year, you can get early admission to Harvard. When you do, please ask mom to let me continue school.” Hearing my offer, Zoey smiled and casually agreed. I left Zoey’s room and started studying hard, looking forward to the day I could change my fate. During the school fair, I was assigned to wear a mascot costume and hand out flyers. The hot weather almost gave me heatstroke. A group of basketball players rushed by, and I was about to lose my balance when suddenly a guy grabbed my hand. It was Jack from the school basketball team, sunny and handsome, liked by many girls. After steadying me, he was worried I might get heatstroke, so he specially bought a bottle of water and handed it to me. I stammered a thank you. He said, “Your voice sounds really nice.” He smiled, curiously trying to peek at what the girl under the mascot looked like. I remembered how everyone at school despised me and got scared, immediately sitting down on the ground. If he found out I was the unlucky ghost of the school, he would be very disappointed, right? Thinking this, I immediately ran away, avoiding him. I hadn’t finished handing out the flyers when the girls from my class locked me in a bathroom stall. I was still daydreaming about Jack’s smile when I was suddenly awakened by a bucket of dirty water. As the sound of laughter gradually faded away, I curled up on the toilet, quietly waiting for someone to find me the next day. Surprisingly, the door opened after just a few minutes. It was a girl with a bruised face. I was puzzled why she didn’t show any disgust when she looked at me. Her name was Ava. She said she was also bullied by them, so she was willing to help me. “What’s your name?” My name is Zoe, Zoe Xu. Apart from Mrs. Wilson, Ava was the first person to call me by my name. “Zoe, you should stand up straight, keep yourself clean, lose some weight, and get rid of the freckles on your face.” Those are dark spots, they can’t be removed. “How can they not be removed? Have you really tried everything to do it?” I looked up at her in confusion. She blinked her big eyes, still bruised, flashing with energy. I hadn’t tried everything to get myself out of this mire. But after hearing Ava’s words, I was motivated to make some changes.

I stopped obediently eating all the leftovers. I would secretly pour away the milk Zoey made me drink, and I started learning ways from the internet to gradually remove the spots on my body. One day, while Zoey was eating breakfast, she told me to drink her milk as usual. I agreed readily, but she suddenly insisted on watching me drink it. I was in the recovery period of treating my rashes, and if I continued to drink the milk I was allergic to, it would all be in vain. “If you want to get the top grade, don’t always force me to do things.” Zoey was silent for a moment, then smiled and stuck her chewing gum in my hair. She said, “I do need you to help me get the top grade in the year, but that doesn’t give you the right to negotiate with me.” Zoey knows how to please mom and make everyone like her, so she’s always been able to act with impunity. As for me, I looked at the milk, more determined than ever to change everything. From then on, I would get up at five every morning to jog and lose weight, then do homework and practice questions. Sometimes I’d be so focused I’d forget to make breakfast. Mom, hungover, would angrily beat me. The mother and daughter duo would insult and mock me in turns. They laughed at me for paving the way for someone else’s future. I was shocked and grabbed Zoey, asking, didn’t she promise to speak up for me and let me continue school? Zoey pushed me away in disgust, saying even if she spoke up, mom wouldn’t let me continue school, but if I didn’t keep helping her, I wouldn’t even have a home. We’re twins, both mom’s children, yet I have to beg just to have a home. I’m not resigned to this.

After the midterm exams, the school would conduct a monthly test. This time, my assigned seat was right behind Zoey. This way, I didn’t need to guess the questions, I could directly pass the answers to Zoey during the exam. For seven consecutive exams, Zoey managed to copy all the answers I gave her without a hitch. On the day the results came out, I stared at Zoey’s name, nervously scanning down the list until I finally saw Zoey’s name at the twentieth position. Zoey was surrounded by everyone, with praise and admiration rising and falling. Zoey was very happy at the center of attention. While I, in the corner, secretly glanced at Zoe’s name. Zoe’s grades were in the top fifty of the year. Zoe, that’s pretty good too. In the following exams, Zoey’s ranking gradually rose, and everyone admired Zoey’s beauty and talent. She also gradually lost some of her humble facade in this game of fame and fortune. Until the last monthly test, Zoey had reached third in the year. With Zoey’s grades improving dramatically, her classmates and friends all wanted to ask her for help with their studies. She was usually poor in her studies and couldn’t answer any of their questions. She brushed them off, preferring to talk with the boys who blindly admired her rather than explaining to her friends why she wouldn’t teach them. Gradually, Zoey lost her close friends and was left with only a group of admirers circling around her. I enjoyed watching the girls gossip about her, spreading rumors and slandering her from the corner. I was a bit happy. Now we were like twin sisters both disliked. But Zoey would still arrogantly throw books at my head. She was very angry, “Now all the girls in the class are targeting me. Is this the benefit of being top of the year?” I consoled her, “You should be more humble. They don’t like you being too showy and proud.” Zoey picked up the book and hit me again. “It’s all because of you! Now they’re spreading rumors that I’m a fraud, that I’m a slut who seduced teachers for grades.” Hearing this, I couldn’t help but feel happy, because I was the one who took the photos that sparked the rumors. It was a scene of a teacher talking to Zoey, but with a slight misalignment in the shot, it created a photo that could be misunderstood. Zoey is so beautiful, it’s normal for her to be favored by teachers, but I didn’t make them spread such extreme rumors. Seeing me smirking, Zoey grabbed my hair fiercely and said, “What are you laughing at? You think this makes you more like me?” She said if it was discovered that I deliberately set her up, I would be dead. “Don’t you think we’re becoming more and more like sisters?” Zoey looked at me with disdain, “Are you worthy of being my sister? You’re just the daughter of a rapist. But, to be like me, you have to drag me down, to make me as dirty and despicable as you?” She was despising the meanness in my thoughts, but wasn’t she the one who led the bullying against me, breaking that window of human nature?

For the final exams, the school leaders started strict inspections. Zoey, caught in the whirlwind of rumors, was called to the office for questioning. To test if Zoey’s grades were real, the leaders had her complete several difficult test papers in front of all the teachers. After a morning of repeated grading by the teachers, Zoey’s test papers were almost all perfect scores, confirming her true academic ability. And the one who made all this happen was me. It was me who took Zoey’s identity to do the test papers. The rumors about Zoey cheating were temporarily suppressed. Without the gossip, Zoey was very happy. I was happy too, because on this day when I substituted for Zoey, I didn’t have to lower my head or hide behind thick hair. Previously, when we knew there would be an inspection by the leaders, Zoey had stayed up all night at her desk. But cramming for a few days couldn’t make up for all the knowledge. Besides, Zoey had never liked studying since she was little. With an invisible sister helping her cheat, why would she waste time studying? When the lie was about to be exposed, when the high pedestal supporting her was about to collapse. She finally agreed to let me take her place and take the test for her.

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On my birthday, I was lying at home with a high fever while my girlfriend was at the hospital, carefully tending to her depressed ex-boyfriend. She coldly hung up on my call and sent a message, “Why are you pretending to be sick? You’re a grown man.” After three years of marriage, she was attentive to her ex but indifferent to me, her husband. Later, I finally realized that a woman whose heart you can’t warm should be let go. I chose divorce and even tried to bring them together. But she regretted it and spent a night crouched outside my door, just begging me to look at her one more time. “You know Ethan is very fragile right now. Why did you lie to me about coming home?” Olivia’s voice was filled with impatience over the phone. “And you say you have a high fever? How can a grown man like you get sick so easily? Can you stop being so childish?” I could almost imagine her expression of disgust, disdain, and even contempt. Breathing heavily, I endured the pain throughout my body. I was full of anger, but when I opened my mouth, I felt like I couldn’t say anything. What’s the use of saying anything anyway? “You’ve really disappointed me. I’m not coming home tonight, that’s final!” The call was disconnected. She’s doing it again, planning to stay at the hospital to take care of him all night. Then she’ll sleep by his hospital bed, waiting for his every command. If I hadn’t seen it with my own eyes at the hospital, I probably wouldn’t have believed that my wife was at the hospital every day taking care of another man. Even the nurses were moved by it. When they showed me the way, they introduced them as the most loving and faithful couple they’d ever seen. This is too ridiculous! Thinking about this, I weakly put down my phone and lay on the living room floor, staring blankly at the ceiling light. It was a bit dazzling. In my daze, I remembered our wedding day, when she held Ethan’s hand with red eyes. I saw her abandoning me during our dates to comfort him when he was in a bad mood. And on countless nights, her body would shy away as soon as I got close. She said she was very traditional and a bit afraid of such things, that we needed to take it slow. Even now, we still haven’t made any progress. In our relationship, she’s always held the upper hand. Whether we’re close or distant depends entirely on her mood. The fever made my head hot, my thoughts were in disarray. In my confusion, I lost consciousness. When I woke up again, I felt sore all over. Fortunately, the fever had subsided. After a quick shower, I felt like I had regained some energy, but I was still weak. I called in sick to work. My usually strict boss told me to rest well and take care of my health. I was a bit surprised. Just then, the door opened. Olivia came home looking slightly tired. Seeing that I wasn’t seriously ill, she said mockingly, “Weren’t you sick?” I ignored her sarcasm and just took a sip of warm water, enjoying the feeling of new life. “Cat got your tongue?” Seeing that I didn’t speak, she crossed her arms, looking like she was waiting for an explanation. “Let’s get a divorce.”

“Fine.” Olivia was stunned for a moment, but then agreed without hesitation. I saw a flash of anger on her face and instantly understood her thoughts. She probably thought I was just using another way to threaten her. “Alright, I’ll bring back the divorce papers this afternoon.” After saying this, I changed clothes and left. It turns out, saying it out loud wasn’t difficult. I thought I would feel reluctant, angry, or unwilling to let go. But the moment I actually said it, I felt relieved. Olivia just sat on the couch playing with her phone, not responding to me at all. She just treated it as one of my usual tantrums. After leaving, I bought breakfast and went to the nearest hospital. My father-in-law was currently hospitalized there, and for this period, my mother-in-law and I had been taking turns caring for him. Coincidentally, my company had been particularly busy lately. Every day, besides working overtime, I had to go to the hospital after work to relieve my exhausted mother-in-law. It was non-stop. This routine had continued for a month. Olivia remained indifferent. Not only that, but I was also paying for the expensive medical bills. Olivia’s entire salary was spent on finding psychologists for Ethan. She never had any money left over, and it was good enough that she didn’t ask me for more. I had talked to her about her father’s medical expenses, but she thought I was threatening her. Last night it rained, and to save some money on a taxi, I trudged home in the rain. Combined with the continuous fatigue, my body finally gave in to illness. “Having a son-in-law like you is truly our blessing.” “My wife and I have discussed it. We’ve seen all you’ve done these past days. You’re a good kid, much better than Olivia. We’ve decided to entrust our savings to you.” Hearing my father-in-law say this, I paused while peeling an apple, and quickly refused. In the past, if I could get the support of my in-laws, I would have been overjoyed and unable to sleep. Would their approval improve my relationship with Olivia? I thought about it carefully, but this hypothesis didn’t make me feel joyful. Strangely, I only felt pressure. “Little Ning isn’t really busy, is she? You’ve been lying to us all along. Is she at the hospital looking after that guy again?” Suddenly, my father-in-law sighed. I remained silent, not knowing how to answer. The day my father-in-law was hospitalized, I told Olivia, but she said Ethan was at a critical point and she couldn’t leave. She asked me to take care of her father more. “Look, her own father is sick and she doesn’t care, but she’s looking after some other man!” “How can I trust her with money?” Seeing that I didn’t speak, my father-in-law gave a bitter smile. In the end, I still refused and didn’t mention the divorce. As I was leaving the hospital, I saw Olivia’s social media post. The photo showed two hands tightly clasped in front of a green plant, with the caption “If we persevere together, we can surely thrive like this plant and overcome all difficulties.” I knew those were her and Ethan’s hands. In the past, I would have angrily called her and questioned her. Then she would describe me with words like petty and narrow-minded. Back then, seeing me angry and frustrated, she must have found it laughable, like a child fighting for attention, childish and annoying. But now I didn’t feel anything. I even found it a bit funny. Come to think of it, they really do look like a couple now. Since I’m so redundant, I might as well step out.

I brought the divorce papers home, but the house was empty. I was used to it. In the past, I would have argued with her for not coming home often. At first, she would explain, saying she had to attend dinners or team-building events. Later, she simply remained silent or casually said it was nothing. Now I think this is quite good, not bothering each other. I sent Olivia a message, then threw the signed divorce papers on the coffee table. Counting the days, it had been a long time since I visited my mom. Since my dad passed away, she’s been living alone in an old house in the suburbs. I realized that when I stopped revolving around Olivia, I had a lot more free time. And I had also neglected my family a lot. It’s a good time to go see my mom. After I got home, my mom was overjoyed. “Why did you come alone? Where’s Olivia?” “Did you have fun yesterday?” I was stunned. Fun? “What, did you forget your birthday yesterday? I even called you, and you said you were out with Olivia.” Only then did I remember that I was busy with a project contract at work yesterday. I hurriedly answered my mom’s call and briefly brushed it off. I completely forgot about my birthday as soon as I hung up. I didn’t know how to answer, and I couldn’t explain. It turned out yesterday was my birthday. At least in previous years, Olivia and I would have a meal together. This year, it was completely forgotten. I thought I would feel disappointed and sad. But now that it’s brought up, I only feel guilty towards my mom. “You came back this time, is there any difficulty?” Fortunately, my mom didn’t dwell on it. Instead, she held my hand and asked with a smile. “Don’t worry, Mom has saved up some money for you. If anything’s wrong, just say it.” My eyes turned red, and I repeatedly said there was nothing wrong. I felt very guilty inside. How long had it been since I last came back? Before, every time I came to my mom, it seemed to be for money. Because Olivia never took care of the household, I had to be responsible for the mortgage and car loan, and the pressure was too great. That evening, I enjoyed the dinner very much. After eating, I watched some TV shows with my mom. We were happy and chatty. I hadn’t been this relaxed in a long time. Before, it was all for Olivia, I didn’t have my own life. And now, I can spend any amount of time with my mom. In the evening, I don’t have to make a table full of dishes waiting for her. I can spend an evening eating with my mom, watching dramas, listening to her talk about neighborhood stories. When I go home, I don’t have to think about how to ask for money. In the past, holidays had to fit her schedule. Now I can go wherever I want. Without Olivia, it turns out to be so relaxing and enjoyable. Until the next morning, when I was woken up by my mom’s coughing. When I found her, she was outside the front door, trying hard to cover her mouth, her face red as she coughed. “It’s nothing, just a small problem.” Seeing me come out, she forced a smile and said it was nothing, but the next second she couldn’t help but cough up a bloody phlegm. Without a word, I carried her on my back and took her to the hospital. The examination result: tuberculosis. Looking at my mom’s evasive eyes, I felt extremely heartbroken. The words of questioning that came to my lips turned into complaints, complaining that she didn’t tell me. “Mom is old, there’s no need to waste money on this kind of disease. You’re under so much pressure now, and you have your own family…” Mom seemed a bit embarrassed. I took a deep breath and, ignoring her refusal, forcibly arranged for the best doctor to consult her. When it came time to pay, I found that I didn’t have enough money. I paused for a moment, smiling bitterly as I explained to my mom that the money was with Olivia. But… “That money, it was all borrowed by Ethan for medical treatment. You’ll have to think of another way.” After hearing what I said, Olivia said lightly. As expected. I wasn’t surprised, and I was too lazy to argue with her. I just told her to remember to come home and sign the divorce papers. “Haven’t you had enough?” Her tone finally carried some anger, expressing her dissatisfaction. “I told you, I’m serious.” She still thought I was joking with her. This time, I hung up the phone first.

With no other choice, I went to my father-in-law’s house and told him the truth about my mother’s illness. My father-in-law, who had just been discharged from the hospital, gave me $10,000 without a word. I didn’t refuse, and after taking it, I was about to write an IOU. “The money you spent on our treatment, I’ve kept track of every penny. This is your own money.” My father-in-law refused. Before leaving, he asked about Olivia again. I thought the divorce couldn’t be hidden anyway, so I just told him straight. “What a mess…” I didn’t answer. After giving the money to the hospital, I stayed with my mom at the hospital. She sighed, saying we hadn’t spent so much time together in a long time. I felt extremely ashamed. During this time, Olivia called me to urge me to come home. “I’m not coming back tonight, that’s it.” I didn’t have the heart to talk to her much. After that, I didn’t answer any of her calls. I just chatted with my mom about traveling to relax after she recovered. It wasn’t until the next day, after I had confirmed the surgery date with the doctor and reassured my mom, that I went home. As soon as I got home, I saw Olivia sitting on the sofa with a dark face. “Signed it?” I directly bypassed her to look at the divorce agreement on the table. Unexpectedly, she snatched it first and tore it to pieces. “Enough, Luke. How long are you going to keep this up? Taking things to the point of divorce, just because I didn’t come home that day?” “When did you become so unreasonable? You weren’t like this before!” “Say something!” Olivia was in a rage. I just stood there silently looking at her. In the past, it was always me who was angry and irritable like this. Suddenly, I understood her a little. People who lose control of their emotions are really ugly. “Fine, I know what you mean.” Seeing that I didn’t speak, Olivia sneered and started to undress in front of me, moving very quickly. “What are you doing?” I stopped her. “I know you’re not satisfied with me going to take care of Ethan, but there’s nothing between us. I’m still pure. Now I’m giving myself to you, is that okay?” “You don’t need to refuse, this is my duty as a wife, isn’t it?” After saying this, she pushed away my hand and stubbornly continued to undress. I walked to the window and pulled the curtains. When I turned back, I found her looking at me mockingly: “What, you want to do it in the living room?”

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I grew up with Ryan Parker, and we got married right after college graduation. After ten years of marriage, I still couldn’t have children. I felt incredibly guilty towards him and willingly quit my job to focus on getting pregnant. But my husband had long been involved with my housekeeper’s daughter. They sold off my family’s assets and plotted to kill my parents. They made me infertile, locked me in the basement, and forced me to watch their happy family of four while I died full of hatred. When I opened my eyes again, I had returned to my senior year of high school. Ryan Parker and I had been engaged since childhood. The year I graduated from middle school, Ryan’s father’s company went bankrupt due to mismanagement. Unable to bear the enormous debt, Ryan’s father chose to jump off a building. My parents felt sorry for the orphaned Ryan and his widowed mother. They paid off their debts and covered all their expenses. In other words, my family was supporting them. After college graduation, Ryan started working at my family’s company and married me. My parents were kind-hearted, but they ended up raising two ungrateful wolves. Ryan and his mother resented my parents for not paying off their debts before his father’s suicide. They conspired with others to kill my parents. Ryan also made me infertile and used my guilt to take control of my family’s company. By the time I discovered all of this, Ryan and his mistress already had two children. That day, after countless attempts at IVF, I finally succeeded in getting pregnant. Excited, I ran downstairs to share the joyful news with my beloved husband. It was also the day my family’s company declared bankruptcy. Ryan finally didn’t need to keep up appearances with me anymore. He brought his two children to meet me. I stood stunned at the bottom of the stairs, looking at the happy family of four. The two children looked just like Ryan. I couldn’t even deceive myself. “Ryan Parker, who are they?” I asked. “My wife and sons,” he replied. Tessa, sporting a baby bump, walked over to me step by step. She was my housekeeper’s daughter. “Miss High-and-Mighty, what good is your status now?” she sneered. “Your family’s assets are mine, and your man loves me.” She snatched the report from my hand. “Oh my! You’re pregnant?! How is that possible after all those birth control pills?!” Birth control pills? I had never taken any. Suddenly, I remembered the vitamins Ryan had prepared for me, always reminding me to take them. I turned to confront him, but Tessa pushed me down the stairs. I instinctively tried to protect my belly, but it was futile. A sharp pain shot through my abdomen. I struggled, begging Ryan to take me to the hospital. I saw Ryan covering his sons’ eyes, looking at me like I was trash. “Save me…” I pleaded. No one paid any attention. I felt blood slowly seeping from between my legs, my body growing colder. In my final moments, I heard Ryan’s voice. “Finally dead. If only she had been in the same car as those two old fools, we wouldn’t have had so much trouble.”

“Chloe? Hello?” “This is Mrs. Chen’s class. How dare you zone out?” I found myself sitting in my high school classroom, as if waking from a long dream. I had returned to my senior year. “Tessa Thompson.” Hearing that name again, my hand clenched tightly around my pen. Tessa, with her high ponytail, stood up confidently from her seat to answer the teacher’s question. I turned my head slightly and saw Ryan through the gap of Tessa’s arm. And his eyes full of adoration. So Ryan had fallen for Tessa this early on. Ryan and Tessa consistently ranked first and second in our grade. In my previous life, they got into the same top university. I thought Ryan had fallen for her in college, but it turns out it was much earlier. Actually, at the beginning of high school, I was the top student. The kind that could beat the second place by dozens of points. Ryan always told me that my consistently outperforming him made him anxious. He said that with my family’s wealth, whether I went to college or not wouldn’t make much difference. He said his feelings for me wouldn’t change regardless of my grades, and that I should enjoy life instead of spending all my time studying. Gradually, influenced by him, I only got into an average college for my entrance exams. He, however, got into a top university along with Tessa. After we married, my ordinary degree became a reason for Ryan’s mother to look down on me. She felt that my average college education wasn’t good enough for her son who graduated from a top university. Thinking back now, I must have been out of my mind or kicked in the head by a donkey. Why did I pin my entire life on a man? And a man who relied on my family’s support, no less.

During the break, I buried my head in my books. Although I hadn’t completely neglected my studies in my later years, I wasn’t as diligent as I had been in my freshman year. Given a second chance at life, I was determined to catch up on everything I had fallen behind on. My deskmate nudged my arm. Ryan had come over. “Chloe, this is for you,” he said. Just like in my previous life, it was a star bottle. I caught a glimpse of the reluctance hidden in Ryan’s eyes. “Thanks,” I said casually. As if he had completed a task by giving it to me, he turned and left without wanting to linger a moment longer. I carelessly placed the star bottle on my desk and continued reading my book. My deskmate stared at the star bottle for a while, then nudged me again. “Chloe, about this star bottle…” “What about it?” I asked. “I think I’ve seen it with Tessa before…” I nodded, still appearing to be focused on my book, but I was listening intently and keeping an eye on Tessa from the corner of my eye. I saw Tessa listening to Ryan explain a problem with a coy expression. I also overheard Ryan’s cronies talking. “Why is Chloe so calm today?” “Yeah! Ryan gave her something, hand-delivered it! Shouldn’t she be crying with joy?” “You don’t think she knows it’s something Tessa rejected, do you?” “As if! Getting something Tessa doesn’t want is an honor for her!” I remembered that in my previous life, when I received this star bottle, I had indeed reacted just as those boys expected. I was excited. I cried with joy. It was one of the few gifts Ryan had ever given me. That day, I posted about it on all my social media accounts. Back then, my deskmate had said the same thing to me, but I had flown into a rage. I looked at my deskmate with guilt-ridden eyes. Her face, still chubby with baby fat, looked terrified. She crossed her arms defensively, “Girl, I’m straight!” Way to ruin the mood. I went back to reading my book.

After school, I couldn’t wait to get home. I missed my parents. I also wanted to tell them that I wanted to break off the engagement, that Ryan and his mother were ungrateful wretches. I excitedly rushed into the house but didn’t see a trace of my parents. I asked the butler, “Where are Mom and Dad?” “Miss, have you forgotten? The master and madam are abroad. They won’t be back for another two weeks.” Right, I had forgotten. I also realized something else. My father had always valued loyalty and friendship. He and Ryan’s father had been best friends, which was why he had paid off the Parker family’s debts after Ryan’s father died. If I suddenly brought up breaking off the engagement, Father would only think I was throwing a tantrum and definitely wouldn’t agree. But was I just going to let Ryan and his mother live comfortably for these two weeks? I couldn’t accept that. “Has the living allowance for the Parker family been given?” I asked. The butler replied, “Before the master left, he gave them three months’ worth of living expenses. It’s only been a month and a half.” The butler thought I wanted to give the Parker family their living allowance. As if I would. “Is it possible to freeze that card?” I asked. “You mean the one for the Parker family?” I nodded without hesitation. “That’s a card under the master’s name. It would require the master to do that.” If I couldn’t freeze the card, I could at least do some accounting. Since my middle school graduation, my family had been supporting Ryan and his mother. They needed to spit out every penny they had swallowed! “Gather all the records of payments made to the Parker family over the years. I want to see how much they owe us.” Back when Father had offered to pay for Ryan’s education, Ryan had been adamant about paying it back once he started working. The butler’s face showed confusion, but he couldn’t hide his smile. I wanted to slap myself hard. Even the butler could see that the Parker family was taking advantage of us. How had I been so blind in my previous life? During dinner, I received the account statement. “Thirty thousand dollars a month in expenses?!” Faced with my shocked expression, the butler nodded calmly. I only knew that my family was covering all the Parker family’s expenses, but I had no idea their spending was almost on par with my family, who lived in a mansion. “The master values loyalty, and young Mr. Parker is your fiancé. This amount of money is nothing to the master, so he didn’t pay much attention to it.” I ate my dinner with a cold expression. Now that my eyes were open, how could I let people treat my family like an ATM?

At the teacher’s suggestion, our class formed study groups. Ryan, Tessa, three other classmates, and I were in one group. On the weekend, we met at the city park to study and discuss problems together. Ryan and Tessa arrived together. Now that I was immersed in my studies, I had no reaction to seeing them together. “Chloe, that question you asked last week really stumped Ryan. He even came to me to discuss it,” Tessa said. I glanced at Tessa, who was trying to make conversation, and saw the poorly concealed pride in her eyes, as well as the necklace around her neck. It was a limited edition piece from a luxury brand’s current season. Tessa was just my housekeeper’s daughter. The only reason she could attend the same high school as me was because my parents wanted me to have a companion. My family even paid her tuition. Where did she get the money to buy luxury goods? I had thought too highly of her. I had even considered letting her off the hook if she had been influenced by Ryan. Now I see, I won’t let her off at all. She can’t escape either. “Is that so?” I asked back. “But that question wasn’t difficult. I’ve already solved it.” “Re…really?” Tessa’s smile became a bit stiff. Ryan accused me, “If you’ve solved it, why waste my time?! My time is precious, you know?” “I just solved it,” I said innocently, pointing at the exercise book spread out on the stone table and Sam, who was sitting on the stone bench. Seeing Ryan’s expression like he had eaten something bitter, I felt very pleased. Ryan pulled Tessa to sit on the other side. I sat down too, continuing to eagerly bombard Sam, the real academic genius, with questions. I had to bribe him with a month’s worth of breakfasts before he agreed to tutor me. This was a true academic genius, the kind who could sleep through classes and still consistently rank tenth in the grade. Ryan and Tessa sat together, looking like a perfect couple. He was explaining problems to her, occasionally glancing at me. In his eyes, I should be madly in love with him now, ready to throw money at him to appease his anger. I did plan to go to him, but not to throw money. Towards the end of this group study session, I solemnly expressed my gratitude to Sam. Then, “Ryan, I have something to discuss with you.” I didn’t notice Sam’s initially pleased expression suddenly turn gloomy. Ryan wore a ‘just as I expected’ look and reluctantly said, “What is it? Speak.” I looked at Tessa and the other classmates, smiling somewhat mischievously. “I don’t mind, but you might care. Are you sure you want to do this here?” Ryan pulled me to the side. I handed him the account statement from my pocket. “You said it yourself back then that the money you used from my family was considered a loan. You’re an adult now, so here’s the bill. Remember to pay it back.” Ryan didn’t even look at the bill. With a face like death, he said, “You want me to pay you back?!”

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The day my sister ran away from her engagement party, I knew Marcus Lee would never truly love me. So she left for another country without a care, leaving me behind to hold her place as Mrs. Lee. I didn’t cry or make a scene. While still young and vulnerable, I gave everyone a graceful way out. Then I put all my effort into making Marcus Lee fall in love with me bit by bit. And I made sure to step away right after my sister came back. On my birthday, Marcus drove me to a campsite in the mountains. Tonight there would be a rare red moon, visible only once every fourteen years, along with a meteor shower said to grant wishes. A few ladybugs landed on my face, startling me into grabbing his hand tightly. He instinctively flinched but then, feeling how cold my hands were, pulled me into his embrace. In our five years of marriage, Marcus gave me anything I asked for. Houses, cars, luxury goods. Others said they’d never seen a man who loved his wife so much. They said it with such certainty that I even began to hope a little. So at my celebration dinner, emboldened by alcohol, I leaned on Marcus’s shoulder. “This year, I want to spend my birthday with you,” I said. “I don’t want any parties. I just want you with me.” He hesitated unusually long, only agreeing after the atmosphere had grown awkward. I no longer cared whether his tone was reluctant or helpless when he agreed. I was just overjoyed, waiting eagerly for nightfall. But just as the sun set, his phone rang. The signal wasn’t great in the mountains. Through the static came a few sudden sobs. “Marcus, I’m so scared.” “Why is no one here?” Crystal’s voice came through loudly, and Marcus’s face instantly darkened. The signal suddenly cut out, the static disappearing, leaving only the sound of birds flapping their wings. My hands grew cold again. I moved closer and grabbed his sleeve, but he shook off my hand, holding his phone up high searching for a signal. I stood frozen in place while he just frowned, constantly redialing, not even bothering to look up and explain. I sighed, grabbed my coat and got in the car. In the distance, I could faintly see the stars, but Marcus didn’t care. He just stepped on the gas. At the foot of the mountain, I stubbornly got out of the car and checked into the B&B I had booked in advance. Late at night, I huddled on the balcony wrapped in clothes. As soon as my phone regained signal, my mother’s calls started coming in non-stop. She had never called me before, not even that night when I nearly died from pain in the hospital after an unexpected miscarriage. I silently watched her incoming call notification. The ringtone stopped abruptly after a minute, then a new call came in. I pressed answer, and as expected, a mix of scolding and crying came through. “Couldn’t you have said something about canceling the party? Do you know she waited in the wind for two hours?” “If Marcus hadn’t come in time, her health really couldn’t have taken it. You know how fragile your sister is!” I looked at the winding river of stars in the sky and spoke sarcastically. “If she can’t take it, don’t you as her mother help her by taking my blood and bone marrow? How could she not handle it?” The woman on the other end was taken aback by my words, then seemed to be provoked into shouting. “Did we ever short-change you on food or drink? The Taylor family may owe you, but we still raised you.” “Do you have to be so intolerant of your sister? Do you want her to get sick?” “Your sister even gave up Marcus for you. What more compensation do you want from her before you’re satisfied?” Her voice was so self-righteous, framing all of Crystal’s willful actions as being forced. After all these years, I thought I was past being hurt by her favoritism. But the love and care for Crystal in her words made me so jealous I nearly cried. A shooting star seemed to streak by outside. I quickly closed my eyes, holding back my tears. I turned my phone face down and made a sincere wish. In this new year of my life, I want lots and lots of love. When I opened my eyes, Marcus’s message was at the top. “Happy birthday, Fiona.” I deleted the text and turned off my phone. In this new year of my life, I decided to take back my love and give it only to myself. When I asked my lawyer friend to help draft divorce papers, her eyes went wide in disbelief, just like when she learned I was marrying Marcus. Back then she had said: “That playboy? Are you sure about this?” Now she was saying: “He treats you so well. Are you sure about this?” I thought carefully again and said seriously under her complex gaze: “Divorce papers, you know. Better safe than sorry!” Five years ago, Marcus not only turned down a socially suitable marriage prospect but also declared he would give up everything to marry me, shocking everyone. Because the proposal target was me. Not my sister Crystal, who shone brightly and won international cello competitions. It was me, the least favored daughter of the Taylor family, disliked by my parents and unable to please men. At first, everyone thought I was just a tool Marcus was using to vent his anger. After all, he had pulled strings for Crystal, introducing her to the best professors, only for her to decide to go abroad without a word, leaving him no room for discussion. But in less than a month, Marcus posted our marriage certificate online and arranged for me to work at his family’s company. Overnight, it seemed, those who had looked down on me became incredibly friendly. Even my mother, who never spared me a glance, softened her expression and personally did my hair, sending me off to be married. At that time, I thought maybe I, who had been ignored by fate for twenty years, was finally blessed for once. Even if the beginning wasn’t pure, I was willing to be brave this once, just for myself. So I worked overtime day and night, struggling to stand shoulder to shoulder with him. At home, I took care of everything personally, leaving his family no room to find fault. When Marcus first saw his mother – who was usually extremely picky with others, who had cursed Crystal until she slammed the door and left – now affectionately holding my hand and refusing to let go, he just stared at me blankly, his eyes full of confusion and deep shock. It seemed that from that day on, he began to realize I wasn’t as weak and useless as rumors claimed. He started learning to accept me, even learning to… fall in love with me. He completely changed from his playboy ways, accompanying me in gardening and cooking. As long as he wasn’t on a business trip, he would definitely be home before midnight. I would heat up hangover soup for him as soon as I saw the car lights come on outside the villa. And when he came in, he would grab my hand, kiss the ring on my finger, and whisper in my ear: “I’m so tired today. I missed you.” So intimate that I almost fell for it unguardedly. He started being too good to me, so good that I even thought he had truly fallen in love with me, so good that I almost let my guard down, so good that I nearly gave him my all without reservation. Until a month ago, when I received an anonymous text message. [Thank you for your hard work these five years, but I’m coming back next month, and some things should be returned to their rightful owner.] [Right, little sister?] Her tone was confident and certain. I felt dizzy. Why? When she wanted to go abroad, she could abandon everything and let others clean up her mess. And now that my life has finally gotten on track, she can just casually turn it upside down. [I’m very satisfied with my life and have no plans for divorce at the moment.] [Neither does Marcus.] It took all my courage to send that. She seemed to disdain replying and went silent. The next second, I received a bank notification of a $200,000 deposit from my husband Marcus. Memo: Sorry. In an instant, it was like a bucket of cold water poured over me from head to toe, waking me up. Of course. Without his consent, how could she be stupid enough to send such a provocative message to my phone? She and Marcus both valued face above all else, so arrogant that even interfering in someone else’s marriage seemed justified to them. I turned off my phone and poured out the hangover soup in the kitchen. He wouldn’t be coming home tonight. Five years. It was time to wake up from this dream. Thank goodness, I think I almost really fell in love with you. It took less than a week for news to spread through my social circle that I had consulted a lawyer about divorce, along with rumors that Crystal was rushing to rekindle her old flame with Marcus as soon as she returned. Some said I was useless, that as a country bumpkin I couldn’t keep my husband’s heart. Others mocked Crystal, saying she’d wasted so many years abroad only to come back and fight her own sister for a man. Crystal kept her cool, but someone else couldn’t stay calm and rushed to speak up for her. Tyler’s call came just as I was about to chair a meeting to finalize the spokesperson for the company’s New Year product line. The angry young man’s voice came through the speaker: “You’re so useless you can’t keep your own husband, so you’re throwing mud at Crystal?” “I didn’t realize you were hiding such depths. Who knew you’d jump at the chance to be so despicable.” My secretary beside me was so embarrassed she wanted to cover her ears, but I calmly circled the key points for today’s meeting with my pen while saying into the phone: “If you really have what it takes, either be man enough to tell Marcus to stop harassing Crystal, or persuade Crystal to be patient and wait for my divorce before latching on. Don’t let people think the Taylor family produced a homewrecker.” “But you’re just a spoiled brat your parents ruined. You took over the company but still need Marcus’s company to feed you.” “You don’t dare offend him, so you come throw your weight around with me.” I took a sip of water and grinned with satisfaction. “What a useless thing.” I hung up, cutting off Tyler’s impotent rage. Tyler and I hadn’t been in contact for years. Even when we met at parties, he would only grudgingly call me “sis” for Marcus’s sake. Tyler grew up with Crystal, while I was sent to live with our grandparents in the countryside. Naturally, he wasn’t close to me. In his eyes, I was still the timid Fiona who didn’t even dare speak loudly, never imagining I would be so dismissive of him. He didn’t know that I was now fully in charge of the fashion line at Marcus’s company. So in the meeting, with one hint from me, support for Tyler’s company for the next quarter was cut off. In the spacious office, I finally experienced how great it felt to have a say. That evening, Marcus came home unusually early, even earlier than me. He seemed to have dug out the divorce agreement I had hidden in the drawer. The thin sheet of paper was torn into pieces and thrown in the trash. He stubbed out his cigarette and slowly spoke. “I heard you cut off the deal with the Taylor company just because I went to save Crystal?” “She fainted from the cold for your birthday party. I couldn’t just let her die, could I?” “You really don’t have to be so intolerant. It’s petty.”

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Fiona was jealous of my beauty and caused me to fall from a building, but accidentally fell with me. Unexpectedly, we were both reborn. And this fool wanted to exchange her genius intelligence for my beauty. Fine, you can be the pretty face this life, and I’ll be the genius. My name is Astrid, and I’m the adopted daughter of the Montgomery family. When I was 17, the Montgomery’s biological daughter was finally found. Fiona and I were polar opposites. She had an ordinary appearance and a plump figure, but her intelligence was off the charts. As soon as she transferred to our school, she claimed the top spot in academics. On the other hand, I had delicate features and a slender figure, but I was dumb as a rock. No matter how hard I tried, knowledge just wouldn’t stick in my brain. Fiona was a shoo-in for an Ivy League school, while I’d be lucky to get into any college at all. Seeing this, my teachers suggested I pursue the arts, but I couldn’t master painting or dancing either. My brain seemed to be permanently frozen. So, I was incredibly envious of Fiona’s super-powered brain that could excel at anything she tried. But I never imagined that this genius, praised by teachers and classmates alike, would be jealous of my useless good looks. Perhaps it started when she refused to walk to and from school with me. Or maybe it began when she fell for the school bad boy, Zack. During a basketball game, Fiona fell head over heels for Zack at first sight and began pursuing him aggressively. She’d wake up two hours early to queue for Zack’s favorite breakfast and secretly slip it into his desk. She’d skip class to follow Zack to his favorite internet cafe. She’d skip meals to save money for his birthday gift, only for him to not even glance at it. As a top student, the teachers paid a lot of attention to Fiona. They called in Mom and Dad. This was the first time she’d been scolded since coming back. Mom tried to reason with her gently, “Fiona, dear, your focus right now should be on your studies. When you get to college, you’ll meet even more amazing people.” Dad strictly forbade her from seeking out Zack before the SATs, threatening to cut off her allowance if she did. Fiona got emotional, “Why are you so biased? Astrid’s grades are terrible, but you never scold her. I just skipped a few classes, and you’re making such a big deal out of it. Why did you even bother finding me?” After that, Fiona became even more reckless. Zack’s cronies often used him as an excuse to boss Fiona around, making her do this and that. Fiona would pack various meals and deliver them to Zack’s classroom. “Why are you so slow? Our man Zack is starving,” one of them complained. “There were a lot of people, so the line was long,” Fiona explained, her bangs damp with sweat and sticking to her forehead. Zack looked away in disgust. “Alright, you can go now. Remember to be earlier tomorrow.” Fiona nodded and left. I was standing outside the door, watching Fiona being treated like a servant. My blood boiled, and I stormed in, throwing the lunchbox in Zack’s face. “What, you don’t have legs?” I snapped. Fiona grabbed my arm, trying to pull me away. Zack wiped his face with a tissue, smirking at me, “How come you two sisters look so different? You’re so pretty, while your sister is… hmm?” He frowned. “What, did you eat shit? Your mouth stinks,” I retorted. “If it were you, I might consider it. But your sister? I couldn’t bring myself to do it,” Zack said, sitting on the desk with his feet on the chair, his expression contemptuous. Acting like he was doing us a favor. I wanted to kick him, but Fiona held me back. “I won’t let anyone hurt Zack,” she declared.

The next day, Zack inexplicably started pursuing me, and Fiona looked at me with hatred in her eyes. That night when we got home, she trashed everything in my room. Mom and Dad rushed over to stop her. “You’re just biased! I’m your real daughter, and Astrid stole my life. Now she’s even stealing Zack. How shameless can she be?” Fiona screamed. Dad was furious, “Fiona, stop this right now, or I won’t be so nice anymore.” “You don’t love me at all. Otherwise, why did you adopt her? Now that I’m back, why don’t you send her away? In this family, it’s either her or me.” Mom was heartbroken, “You and Astrid are both our daughters.” Fiona continued smashing things while cursing at me, “Astrid, you bitch! You seduced Zack behind my back. There are so many guys out there, why do you have to steal mine? Don’t think I don’t know you were just trying to get his attention yesterday. I won’t let you get away with this.” Seeing Fiona getting more and more out of hand, Dad couldn’t help but slap her. Fiona ran out crying. She ran to Zack’s place and stayed with a group of delinquents, skipping school for several days. No matter how Mom and Dad tried to contact her or persuade her, Fiona ignored them completely. Seeing my worried parents, I reluctantly contacted Fiona on my own, “If you come back, I’ll leave.” Fiona sent me an address, telling me to come alone. I could have ignored Fiona’s situation, but I couldn’t ignore my parents. They had loved me for ten years; I couldn’t be heartless. Following the address, I arrived at a high-end apartment building. I knocked on the door of the top floor and saw Fiona, whom I hadn’t seen for days. The room was littered with empty beer bottles and takeout boxes. As soon as I entered, the way Zack and his friends looked at me made me very uncomfortable. I really couldn’t understand why Fiona would like this good-for-nothing delinquent. With her brain, shouldn’t she see them as idiots? Fiona crouched next to Zack, “I’ve brought Astrid here as you asked. You said you’d consider making me your girlfriend.” Zack played with the cigarette in his hand, “Well, that depends on what you do next.” Fiona got up and sat next to me, handing me a bottle of alcohol, “Drink this.” I refused, “You said you’d come back home with me if I came here.” Fiona grabbed my hair and started pouring the alcohol into my mouth. Soon, I felt dizzy and disoriented. When I woke up, I was lying naked on the bed. The tearing pain in my lower body reminded me of what had just happened. I could faintly hear Fiona and Zack’s voices from outside. “Zack, I’ve done everything you asked.” “Did you get the video?” “Yes, I did. Zack, can you kiss me now?” “Hah, look closely. I like girls like Astrid. Come back when you’ve had plastic surgery to look like her.” I found my clothes and got dressed. By the time I went out, Zack and his gang had already left. Only Fiona was crouching on the carpet. As soon as she saw me, she pounced on me like a wild beast, tightly gripping my neck, “It’s all because of you, because of your face. I tried so hard, did everything, but he wouldn’t even look at me once. Why can you get it so easily?” I slowly backed towards the balcony, then hugged Fiona tightly and jumped out the window with her. Fiona, you ruined me, so you can die with me.

Ding~ Suddenly, a mechanical voice appeared in my mind: “Fiona requests to initiate the Life Exchange System with you.” Seeing that I didn’t understand, the mechanical voice sounded again, “Fiona wants to exchange her intelligence for your beauty.” Intelligence for beauty? Even a fool would know which to choose. In the face of absolute ability, beauty is worthless. I gladly agreed, and then returned to a few days ago. At breakfast that morning, Fiona peeled an egg for me, which was unprecedented. Mom and Dad were delighted to see our relationship improve. In class, I finally felt the joy of knowledge entering my brain. The feeling was truly addictive. After a full day of classes, I didn’t feel tired at all; on the contrary, I felt refreshed. The world of a top student is so wonderful. I wish there were no underachievers in the world. Back home, I burned the midnight oil. Because my foundation was weak, I had to start from scratch in many areas. For several days in a row, Fiona was polite to me whenever she saw me. Even when Zack pursued me at school, she didn’t show any displeasure. The teachers also thought she had returned to the right path and instead warned me not to think about dating just because I was pretty. Ridiculous. Now, studying makes me happy. Gradually, I understood why Fiona wasn’t doing anything. I, who had never had acne before, started getting pimples one by one. My weight also broke into triple digits and was still trending upward. Conversely, Fiona’s acne was disappearing, her skin becoming radiant and glowing. After losing some weight, her overall aura improved significantly. Zack came to see me less and less frequently. I still remained deaf to the outside world, studying in class and studying after class. Even in my dreams, I was filled with knowledge. In the first exam, I rose from over 900th place to around 600th. The teachers and my parents were all congratulating me. “You’ve made great progress recently. At this rate, getting into a good college shouldn’t be a problem. The pressure of exams can cause various adverse reactions in the body, but it will gradually recover after it’s over. Don’t worry, if you have any questions, feel free to ask the teachers anytime.” Recently, Fiona and I have changed a lot. The uglier I became, the prettier she got. Combined with her grades, she became the undisputed campus queen. I gradually became forgotten in the corner, and some people even felt ashamed for having praised my beauty before. Lately, Zack often came to our class again, but now he was looking for Fiona. The look of disgust he used to have for her was now directed at me. He even ordered that no one in school was allowed to mention that he had once pursued me. This kind of guy is really laughable, but some people still treat him like a treasure. “Astrid, I told you I wouldn’t let you get away with it,” Fiona said. “Look, Zack just brought me breakfast specially.” I glanced at the plastic bag she held high, “Drink more hot water.” After all, steamed buns can be quite dry. Fiona seemed to care a lot about Zack having once pursued me, and she often came to show off to me. “This is the couple’s ring Zack gave me. He said he wants to be with me forever.” I couldn’t understand what was so exciting about a cheap ring that probably cost less than $10 on Wish. If he’s not willing to spend money, how much love can there be?

The more something isn’t yours, the more you care about it. Fiona constantly checked her face, hiding mirrors in her books and stuffing her desk drawer full of skincare products and makeup. During this homeroom class, she was still fussing with her face under the desk. “Fiona, you dropped more than fifty places in the last exam. Aren’t you worried? If you keep this up, forget about Ivy League schools, you might not even get into college,” the teacher scolded. Fiona was nonchalant, “Teacher, beauty is a lifelong asset. If you learned how to dress up, maybe you wouldn’t have gotten divorced.” The teacher was so angry she trembled, and from then on, she never bothered with Fiona again. Fiona was busy flirting with Zack, while I was busy battling with math and physics. Mom and Dad couldn’t bear to see Fiona wasting her potential like this and tried to reason with her every day. “Fiona, honey, the SAT is a watershed moment in life. You should cherish it. Zack is just wasting his days away. Being with someone like that will only bring you misery.” Fiona couldn’t stand anyone speaking ill of Zack, “You haven’t cared about me for all these years. Now, and in the future, I don’t need you to care about me.” Mom burst into tears, “It’s not that we didn’t want to care for you, sweetie.” I gently rubbed Mom’s back. “Astrid, you’ve always been sensible and obedient. When you have time, try to talk some sense into Fiona. You’re the same age, maybe she’ll listen to you.” I nodded in agreement. Of course, I would try to persuade her. Only this time, the purpose of my persuasion would have to change. I wanted them to be inseparable, lest they end up on the market and harm others. I took a cup of hot milk upstairs to find Fiona. “Sis, don’t be angry. Mom and Dad just don’t understand Zack yet. They’ll agree eventually.” Fiona had thought I was coming to help our parents persuade her, but she didn’t expect me to take her side. “You don’t like Zack anymore?” she asked. “I never liked him. Besides, he’s the one you love. He’ll be my brother-in-law in the future.” Fiona finally smiled at me. After all, I was now the only one on her side. “I’ll help you keep it from Mom and Dad in the future.” “Sis, your love that defies the world is truly great. I’m so envious.”

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My mom has always been a big spender, and over the years, our family hasn’t saved a penny because of her extravagance. Whenever my dad asks about the money, my mom always says she spent it on me. When my grandma needed money for medical treatment, my dad yelled at me for being a spendthrift. I promptly pulled out the receipts of my mom’s expenses over the years. Ha! Did they think I’d be their scapegoat forever? When I was little, my mom would take me to the park and only buy me a bottle of water. But when we got home, she’d tell my dad we spent over $30 on food and entertainment. She’d enroll me in the cheapest English tutoring classes, costing about $4 per session. But she’d tell my dad each class cost $40. She’d buy me clothes from street vendors selling knockoffs, but tell my dad each piece cost hundreds of dollars. She’d even claim I threw tantrums, refusing to leave the store unless she bought them for me. In high school, while other kids got $30 a week for allowance, I only got $3. In everyone’s eyes, I was the one spending money recklessly, never considering my parents’ feelings. All of my father’s hard-earned money was supposedly spent on me. I was labeled a “wastrel.” During the New Year’s pig slaughter at my cousin’s house in the countryside, my mom was chatting happily with a distant niece-in-law. “Auntie, how do you stay so young? Your skin is so fair and smooth, I can’t believe you’re in your forties!” The niece-in-law even touched my mom’s face with her finger. “Oh, it’s just my natural good skin,” my mom said, clearly pleased and unable to hide her happiness. But her smile seemed a bit stiff. She loved having strangers guess her age, compliment her youthfulness, and then proudly claim it was all natural. This might fool older people, but young people could easily spot the obvious signs of cosmetic procedures. “Auntie, your clothes must be expensive! They look high-end,” the niece-in-law said, feeling the fabric. “The material is so nice!” My mom casually took the niece-in-law’s hand and said, “Oh, these are just from street vendors, not worth much. Only about $10. I don’t have any expensive clothes.” “You know, Amy needs money for many things. I can’t be extravagant. I still need to save up for her dowry in the future.” Lies! Her clothes were never less than $150. I felt both hurt and disgusted. She had been manipulating me since I was little, easily controlling me. Many times, she would criticize me in front of others. I didn’t even dare to confront her, feeling like I was a burden who spent too much money. Hearing my dad’s sighs, I didn’t want to cause conflict between them. But the truth was, my mom spent money like water on high-end cosmetics, brand-name clothes, beauty salons, and outings with her girlfriends. “How much did this cost?” Every time I asked about the price of something she bought, my mom would scold me. “Have you earned a single cent? What right do you have to question me?” If I tried to tell the truth, she’d say, “I’ve raised you for nothing, you ungrateful brat! Do you want your dad to hit me? Do you want your dad to divorce me?” So, for the sake of family harmony, I never exposed her. I just quietly played the role of the scapegoat. Coming back to reality, I heard the niece-in-law continue, “Wow! That cheap? Where did you buy it?” The niece-in-law widened her eyes in disbelief and reached out to touch the clothes again. My mom smiled silently, trying to brush it off. “Auntie, if you like it, I’ll ask my mom to get you one too,” I chimed in. “Oh, that would be great!” The niece-in-law looked at my mom expectantly. My mom laughed awkwardly, wanting to refuse but unable to find a good reason. She could only say, “There was only one left when I bought it. I’ll see if they have any more. If they do, I’ll get you one.” My mom glared at me discreetly, annoyed at my presumption. Of course, there wouldn’t be any left to sell! She wouldn’t spend money on such expensive clothes for others. My mom chatted and laughed with the niece-in-law, but she kept glancing at my dad to gauge his reaction. On the way home, she scolded me, “In the future, when adults are talking, you children shouldn’t interrupt.” I did it on purpose. My mom always liked to use me as a shield. In the eyes of relatives and my dad, she always maintained an image of frugality. Relatives often looked at me with disdain and gossiped behind my back. Because my mom frequently cried poor in front of them, saying all the family’s money was spent on me. The 80-year-old lady downstairs would smile kindly at me, then turn and say to others, “That child really knows how to spend money! Doesn’t care about her parents at all.” From childhood to adulthood, I always had the worst food, clothes, and belongings, yet I still received so many dirty looks for no reason. After I started college, I overheard classmates mocking me behind my back. “Her? She’s fake and cares too much about appearances. Haven’t you noticed? All her clothes are knockoffs. It’s hilarious! If you can’t afford it, why bother wearing it?” A few days later, my mom brought home an Anly brand shirt. “I bought you a shirt. It’s very expensive,” my mom said with a smile, her eyes holding an indecipherable meaning. I don’t know why, but something felt off. My mom had never been this generous to me before. Although I had never worn such high-end clothes, I knew this shirt cost over $150. She often said to me, “Your time to wear nice clothes will come later. Unlike me, I’m already half in the grave. If I don’t wear them now, I’ll be too old.” Whenever my mom said this, I felt sad and couldn’t bring myself to say anything more. Coincidentally, one day on my way home, I ran into my Aunt Sarah. She was stunned when she saw me, examining the clothes I was wearing. “Where did you get these clothes?” Aunt Sarah’s eyes showed a hint of horror. “My mom just bought them for me,” I replied, sensing something was amiss. “What’s wrong, Aunt Sarah?” “Take them off quickly, don’t wear them. It’s bad luck!” Aunt Sarah reached out and took off the jacket, then threw it in the trash. At first, she was reluctant to tell me, afraid of causing trouble with my mom. But after I pestered her, she finally revealed the truth. She and my mom had gone to visit a distant relative who had just lost her daughter. The girl was about my age and had just started college when she was involved in a fatal traffic accident. The young life was cruelly taken away by fate. The girl’s newly bought clothes had never been worn. My mom had taken them, saying she would keep them as a memento. But then my mom turned around and gave them to me. For the past couple of days, I had been thinking I had misjudged her, that she was finally willing to spend money on me, that I had grown up and she knew to dress me up. From childhood, I had never worn clothes or shoes that fit properly. They were always two sizes too big. The colors were never bright, and I looked both ridiculous and pitiful wearing them. They would be worn out before they ever fit me properly. There’s an old photo at home from when I was about eight or nine years old. I’m wearing a huge shirt with the sleeves rolled up. The shoulders couldn’t support the shoulder pads, which sagged down on both sides of my arms. I looked comical standing next to my mom. While she only cared about her own elegance, I looked out of place and even unsightly next to her. I cried all the way home, my eyes red when I arrived. My dad was off work and at home. He and my mom were sitting on the couch, chatting and laughing. Seeing me come in, my mom smiled and said to my dad, “You know, I saw the neighbor’s kid working part-time at the supermarket yesterday! Earning his own allowance every month, unlike Amy who only knows how to ask for money…” Before my mom could finish, I exploded and shouted at her, “Yeah, I’m the only one who doesn’t know better, the only one who doesn’t understand, so you give me a dead person’s clothes to wear.” “Are you even my real mother? Why would you do this to me? I’ve had enough!” I screamed at the top of my lungs, completely unlike my usual quiet self. My dad was stunned to see me like this and quickly came over to comfort me. “What’s wrong, Amy? Let’s talk about this calmly. What happened?” My mom also said, “Child, if you have something to say, just say it. Why are you shouting? Have some respect!” I shook off my mom’s hand and sat down on the couch with my dad. I explained everything that had happened. “Your Aunt Sarah shouldn’t have told you everything. What are kids afraid of? The clothes were new,” my mom said dismissively. “You be quiet. Look how upset our daughter is,” my dad said, clearly not understanding her behavior either. “Fine, I’m the bad guy. I’m the worst person ever. Is that what you want to hear? It’s just a piece of clothing! What’s the big deal?” My mom rolled her eyes, not bothering to argue further. She seemed indifferent to my crying, thinking I was making a fuss over nothing. “You’re really heartless,” my dad said, angry now. He knew I was timid, and he couldn’t believe my mom would do something so incomprehensible. He quickly took out $150 from his pocket. I knew this was his entire month’s pocket money. “Here! Dad’s giving you $150. Buy whatever clothes you want,” my dad said, stuffing the money into my hand. Seeing my dad take my side, I felt somewhat comforted. My emotions still hadn’t fully subsided, and I shouted, “I don’t want it! I don’t want it! I’ll work part-time at the supermarket and earn my own money to buy clothes!” “What part-time job? You’re still young. Your job right now is to study well. Our family doesn’t need you to go out and earn money,” my dad said. “Why don’t you give me the money? I’ll buy clothes for her. Kids don’t know how to bargain. She might get ripped off,” my mom said, eyeing the money in my hand. “Go to the mall to buy. The prices are clearly marked there,” my dad glared at my mom, telling her to be quiet. “You’ve spoiled the child,” my mom rolled her eyes and stopped paying attention. She wanted to get the money from me, then buy me some $10 clothes from street vendors, probably with some big fake logo on them. I immediately stuffed the money into my pocket to prevent her from getting any ideas. Seeing that I was still crying, my dad had to beg my mom to apologize to me. “I’m sorry, okay? Is that good enough? Why are you making such a big deal out of this? I was only thinking of your best interests…” My mom’s tone was reluctant. This wasn’t an apology at all. She was clearly still mocking me, blaming me for not understanding. I turned and went into my bedroom, not wanting to hear her speak anymore. I avoided her for days, not even making eye contact. I was truly heartbroken. Uncle Jack needed $7,000 to buy a house and wanted my dad to help out. My dad came home and told my mom, but she refused to lend the money. She lied to my dad, saying that withdrawing the money from the fixed deposit would result in a loss of several thousand dollars in interest. The atmosphere at home was tense. I moved around quietly, trying not to attract my mom’s attention or talk to her. I had just gotten home when I heard my dad pleading, “It’s not like we won’t get it back, right? Can you give me that $4,000 I gave you a couple of weeks ago? Buying a house is a big deal for them, and I can’t refuse my brother when he’s asking for help.” “A couple of weeks ago? That was half a month ago. Amy has already used it all,” my mom replied impatiently.

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