• April Fool’s Requiem: The Day He Faked His Death

    The day Everett Sterling’s plane crashed into the ocean, I nearly went mad, plunging into the waves to end my own life and follow him. It wasn’t until I was rescued that I realized it was all just a cruel, malicious April Fool’s joke. Right before I lost consciousness, I heard his little canary say in that sickeningly sweet, mocking tone: “Everett, your wife really loves you to death. If she knew you were just testing her, she’d probably go crazy, right?” He chuckled, his voice devoid of any warmth: “Crazy? After Serena had the baby, she’s been as docile as a caged rabbit. As long as you guys keep your mouths shut, this is the last time I’ll test her loyalty.” The crowd burst into laughter, everyone promising to keep the secret. Laying on the stretcher, I couldn’t shed a single tear anymore. Everett didn’t know, but that was also the last opportunity I would ever give him. From then on, my love for him dropped to zero. Chapter 1 When I woke up, I was in a private hospital in Manhattan. A peeled apple sat on the nightstand. In the past, whenever I was sick, Everett never showed up. He would only have his assistant send over a pile of flashy, expensive supplements. Seeing my calm expression, he picked up a slice of apple and held it to my lips. “Happy to see I’m not dead?” I turned my head away, avoiding the apple. I caught a glimpse of a faint purple hickey just below his collar. My voice was as calm as a pool of dead water. “Everett, let’s get a divorce.” His hand paused. Then, he simply popped the apple slice into his own mouth, chewing it loudly. A hint of amusement flickered in his eyes. He made a phone call right in front of me. Soon, his assistant brought Leo in. I hadn’t seen him in a few months. Five-year-old Leo had grown a bit taller. However, the look in his eyes when he saw me was still full of distance and disgust. Shortly after Leo was born, he was taken to the Sterling estate in Long Island to be raised by his grandfather. I only got to see him during holidays. I knew exactly why Everett brought the child to the hospital. In the past, whenever he partied too hard outside and I gave him the silent treatment, he would use our son as a shield. I had lost count of how many times he had used this exact same trick. But this time, this trump card was no longer my weakness. Looking at Leo, who had gained some weight, I didn’t smile. Leo frowned in displeasure. He was simply a miniature version of Everett, even speaking with the exact same tone: “Serena, you’re still so boring and strict. Daddy, I don’t want to stay here. I want to go back and have Mommy Lila play Legos with me…” Mommy Lila? No wonder he refused to call me Mom. He had already acknowledged someone else as his mother long ago. Everett’s gaze instantly turned sharp. Leo obediently shut his mouth, but voluntarily buried himself in my arms, muttering: “Daddy yelled at me!” Usually, I would hold him tightly, but this time, I pushed him away. “Go complain to your Mommy Lila.” Those two identical faces froze at the same time. I stared straight into Everett’s eyes, speaking word by word: “Everett, I’m serious about the divorce. I’m not joking.” A flash of anger crossed his eyes, quickly morphing into mockery. “Serena, playing hard to get is only fun up to a point. If you really piss me off, you’ll never see your son again for the rest of your life.” So he thought I was just taking a step back to gain an advantage. I remembered last year, when he got into a scandal with a starlet that ended up with her in the ER. I asked for a divorce. He locked me in our penthouse for six months and refused to let me see Leo. I gave in back then. But it was also that time I realized I couldn’t bring myself to love him anymore. “Everett, I’m moving out as soon as I’m discharged.” I looked right at him, my gaze unwavering. Realizing I wasn’t throwing a tantrum, his face turned serious. “You want a divorce? We’ll see if you actually have what it takes.” After he led Leo away, I picked up my phone and sent a message to an unknown number: “I’ve thought about it. I’ll leave as soon as the National Dance Championship is over next week.” Chapter 2 After being discharged, I returned to the Sterling estate, packed a few things, and headed to the dance studio. Since I had decided to leave, I didn’t want any more entanglements with Everett. However, as soon as I walked in, my colleagues’ looks were complex and subtle. A colleague I was usually close to pulled me into a corner and asked worriedly: “Serena, how did you offend ‘Mrs. Sterling’? Not only did she steal your competition spot, but she also made the boss fire you.” Mrs. Sterling? Following her gaze, I looked toward the center of the stage. Lila Rose was wearing a haute couture dance outfit, exuding the aura of someone entirely spoiled. I almost forgot, she had always paraded around outside calling herself “Mrs. Sterling.” At that moment, she was arrogantly soaking in everyone’s envy, until she spotted me in the shadows. “Serena, I’m so sorry. The boss felt my style was better suited for the championship, so the only spot went to me.” Before, she used to hide her claws around me. Now, she dared to walk all over me. “Lila, what exactly is your style? A stripper’s style? Do you dare tell everyone your real identity?” She used to be a cam girl famous for pushing boundaries, and only got into this high-end studio because of Everett’s connections. Lila’s face flushed bright red, and tears quickly welled up in her eyes. Just then, an arm wrapped around her waist. Everett appeared in front of me, his gaze overwhelmingly oppressive. “And what exactly do you think your identity is?” I opened my mouth, but a wave of bitterness rose in my throat. His mother died saving me. Nine years of marriage, even giving him a child, couldn’t offset the weight of that life. When he was drunk, he would grab me by the throat and roar: “Serena, you married into the Sterling family to atone for your sins, not to play the rich wife! Don’t forget your place!” Seeing me zone out, Everett leaned in close and lowered his voice: “Serena, if you want to keep this job, crawl back to the estate like a good girl.” I finally understood. He was the “boss” Lila mentioned. He gave the spot to Lila and forced the studio to fire me, all to make me bow my head, admit my mistake, and take back the word ‘divorce’. Seeing I remained unmoved, he sneered: “Gotten tough now, huh? Want to escape my control? Then I’ll break your wings and see how you try to fly.” He made a phone call. Less than five minutes later, my best friend texted me: “Serena, I think I pissed someone off. I just got promoted, and my boss called me in and said he has to let me go…” I pressed my lips tightly together and began packing my belongings. As I left, I heard Lila mocking me from behind: “Serena, in the end, don’t you still have to rely on a man? I thought you had a spine.” My hand trembled on the handle of my suitcase. I turned around and fired back: “Did you forget? Legally, I’m not divorced yet. He is still my husband…” Suddenly, Everett grabbed my wrist. “Serena, who gave you the nerve to bully Lila in public? Did you treat my warnings like garbage?” My heart felt like it was pricked by a needle. Married for so many years, he never publicly announced my identity. The outside world only knew he was married, but he was never short of beautiful women by his side. Since I couldn’t participate in the competition anymore, I didn’t need to wait a week. Thinking of this, I actually felt relieved. Before returning to the estate, I went to a law firm. After printing out the divorce papers, I texted that number: “Not waiting a week. I’m leaving in two days.” Chapter 3 Back at the estate, I sat on the living room sofa, dazed. It was rare for Everett to come home this early. He stood in the entryway, looking at me against the light. In that moment, I seemed to see my past self. Sitting in the living room every day after work, waiting until late at night just for a husband to return. I used to greet him with a smile and considerately help him take off his coat. “Honey, are you tired today? I learned a new massage technique…” All these years, aside from dancing, I spent the rest of my time revolving around him. Day after day, cycle after cycle, yet it never earned me a single kind look. Looking back now, I felt I was an absolute fool. Seeing I didn’t react, Everett frowned: “What are you thinking about? Running away?” I found it a bit funny. “If I wanted to run away, what would you do?” He walked toward me, roughly pushing me onto the sofa, cleverly shifting the topic: “If you don’t like Leo, we’ll just have a daughter. Daughters are obedient. She can keep you company later, and you’ll have an easier time in this house.” When I married into the Sterling family, the staff saw he didn’t care for me, and because of my mild temper, they never respected me, dumping all the heavy chores on me. Those years, I loved him deeply and never complained. He saw it all but always stood by coldly. My thoughts snapped back as he tore off my nightgown. His kisses landed on my body, fierce and overbearing, carrying an obvious sense of punishment. No matter what he did, I was like a piece of wood, completely unresponsive. It turns out that when you no longer love someone, your body genuinely puts up defenses. Everett found it boring and got off me. “Serena, I know your body. You shouldn’t be reacting like this.” He pinched my chin, staring at me intently: “Tell me, do you have a man on the outside?” Everett loved to play around, but he was incredibly possessive and a germaphobe. A security guard at the studio once looked at me a second too long; he was fired that day and Everett found an excuse to throw him in jail. I bit my lip tight, laughing out loud in humiliation: “Yes, just like the ocean you died in, I’ve been filthy for a long time. Are you going to arrest all those men too?” Everett narrowed his eyes, his voice raspy: “Is that so?” Suddenly, he scooped me up into his arms and walked toward the bathroom. He actually doubted me! “Since you’re dirty, let’s wash you clean.” He threw me into the bathtub, aimed the showerhead at my face, and turned on the freezing water. Goosebumps covered my body. Stimulated by the cold water, my PTSD was instantly triggered. My mind flashed back to when I was thirteen, the scene of my parents’ plane crashing into the ocean surface. I trembled uncontrollably, curling up in the corner. But Everett thought I was faking it. “Serena, don’t forget the purpose of you marrying into this family. You are here to atone!” That phrase again. This was almost our only mode of interaction. Out of ten sentences, nine were laced with malice. Chapter 4 Seeing my eyes lose focus to the point where I was about to bash my head against the wall, Everett finally panicked and carried me back to bed. “What’s wrong with you? Where does it hurt…” “Everett, you’ve tortured me enough all these years. Let’s let each other go!” I used every ounce of strength I had to throw the divorce papers at his face. He stared at the signature line and sneered: “In such a rush to divorce, the guy on the outside can’t wait?” I closed my eyes and stopped talking. He slammed the door and left. After tomorrow, I could escape this nightmare forever. The next day, Everett texted me: “If you want my signature, come to the Hilton, VIP Room 708. I had the maids prepare your clothes.” It was a modified cheongsam that made my waist look incredibly slender. When I pushed open the door, a group of rich heirs were jeering and looking at me. Lila sat next to Everett, her smile blinding. “Serena, Mr. Thorne wants to see a dance. I sprained my ankle, so I have to trouble you.” The gazes of these men landed on me like they wanted to eat me alive. This was Everett’s goal—to make his legal wife entertain his mistress and business partners. “Serena, didn’t you want a divorce?” Everett leaned into my ear, his breath hot against my neck, but making me feel like I was plunging into an ice cave. “As long as you dance until he’s satisfied, I’ll sign.” He pushed me right in front of Mr. Thorne. The man wrapped his arm around my waist, his eyes blurry with lust: “They say dancers have the softest waists. I see it today. Don’t worry, I promised Sterling I’d just feel around, I won’t actually do anything to you. As long as I enjoy myself, Sterling gets the contracts for the second half of the year.” I looked at Everett in disbelief. Everyone in our circle knew Thorne was a creep with a fetish for dancers’ waists, and someone had even been sent to the hospital with a broken rib because of him. I struggled to run, but Everett yanked me back. “Serena, don’t be such a prude. It’s just a touch, you won’t lose a piece of flesh. This is your bargaining chip for the divorce.” So, this was the price of divorce. The moment the door closed, I plunged into despair. An aphrodisiac incense burned in the room, making my consciousness blur. I grabbed a wine bottle from the table and swung it at Thorne, but he caught my wrist. The bottle smashed against my forehead. I fell to the floor, blood blurring my vision. I wanted to bite my tongue and end it, but the silhouettes of my parents appeared before me. “Serena, you have to keep living.” Like seeing a beam of light in the dark, I bit down hard on Thorne’s fingers. While he screamed, I yanked the door open and ran out. Passing another slightly open door down the hall, I saw Everett. He had Lila pinned against the wall, kissing her. “Everett, shouldn’t you really go check on Serena? I’m worried Thorne might…” “What is there to worry about? I warned Thorne, he won’t go too far. I just want to use this to punish her. She’s been too disobedient lately.” Just as I was about to push the door open, Thorne’s bodyguards caught up and dragged me back. My heart died completely. Right before losing consciousness entirely, I slammed my head forcefully into the corner of the wall. Mom, Dad, Serena is coming to find you. An hour later, Everett pushed open the door to Room 708. He thought he would see me crying and begging for forgiveness. But all he saw was shattered glass and a pool of bright red blood on the floor. A cleaner was whispering nearby: “That girl earlier was so tragic. Her clothes were torn to shreds. She refused to submit and just smashed her head against the wall and died…” Chapter 5 Everett didn’t believe I was dead. He rushed to Thorne’s private estate. Thorne was having his forehead treated by a private doctor. Seeing Everett, Thorne looked a little scared: “I swear I didn’t do anything! She hit the wall herself! You can’t pin this on me.” Everett’s face was terrifyingly dark: “Say that to me one more time!” Thorne waved his hand impatiently: “Worst comes to worst, I’ll sign another year’s contract! Consider it compensation for your wife’s life! I even had her body sent back to the Sterling estate. I’ve done more than enough.” Everett completely lost control and beat Thorne mercilessly. “Who told you to touch her! I’ll kill you!” He beat Thorne into the ICU. Soon after, Thorne was reported for multiple sexual assault charges and went straight to prison after being discharged. In the days that followed, Everett kept running away from the reality of my death. Eventually, Mr. Sterling Sr. stepped in to handle the funeral. My name became a taboo in the Sterling household. On the day of the burial, Everett got blackout drunk. When he got home, Leo hugged his leg: “Daddy, I don’t want Serena to die. Can you bring her back?” The word “die” triggered Everett. He picked Leo up with one hand, his voice hoarse: “Who told you she’s dead? She’s not dead!” “And why didn’t you ever call her Mom?!” Leo burst into tears and was eventually taken away by the maids. On the seventh day after my death, Everett hid in our bedroom, crumpling the divorce papers in his hand. He stared blankly at the wedding photo on the wall. In the photo, I was wearing the cheapest wedding dress, yet smiling brightly. And he was as cold as ice. He only married me for revenge. Even though I wholeheartedly played the role of a wife, he couldn’t forget that his mother drowned trying to save me. In a daze, he thought he saw me walking toward him. He greedily hugged the silhouette: “Serena, is it you? You came back?” He inhaled the scent on her body. It wasn’t my usual gardenia, but a strong, pungent perfume. He snapped awake. The person in his arms was Lila. “Everett, let me be your wife, okay? Whatever she could do, I can do too.” She pressed closely against him. “Get out!” He pushed her away in a rage. Lila gritted her teeth, her eyes full of resentment. She touched her stomach and sneered: “I’m pregnant. It’s yours.” Everett looked quietly at her stomach, a cruel curve forming on his lips: “Are you sure?” He forced Lila to the hospital. An hour later, the paternity test was slapped onto her face. “The kid isn’t mine. During your ovulation window last time, I got a vasectomy. Did you forget?” Lila froze, then laughed like a maniac: “Everyone says you’re a playboy, but it turns out you’re a hopeless romantic. Too bad Serena will never know. She’s dead! Hahaha!” That same day, Lila was blacklisted from the entire industry and sued for fraud. Everett’s life became a blurry mess. Waking up thirsty in the middle of the night, he would subconsciously call out: “Serena, get me a glass of water.” Touching the cold empty space beside him in bed, he’d feel a suffocating pain. Until one day, outside the study, he heard his parents arguing. Chapter 6 “Old man, that corpse was obviously a fake. Everett is ruining his life over that woman. Shouldn’t we tell him the truth? Besides, what happened with Serena’s parents’ plane crash… Everett’s mother went to save her because of our families’ friendship. It was an accident! He’s blamed her all these years…” “Shut up! Let it be! I never liked Serena anyway. Married and still dancing outside all day, disgraceful. As long as Leo is still with us, that’s all that matters!” The Sterlings and my family used to be close. Everett and I were childhood sweethearts. When I was thirteen, my parents’ private jet crashed into the ocean. I witnessed everything and developed severe PTSD. On the anniversary of their death, I had an episode and jumped into the ocean. Mrs. Sterling thought it was Everett who jumped, so she dove in to save him without thinking. I was saved, but she drowned. Fourteen-year-old Everett came home from school to see me crying while holding his mother’s body. He decided I killed his only support system. From then on, he developed avoidant personality disorder, constantly seeking a sense of security by tormenting me and testing my love. Over our nine-year marriage, he played around with models and actresses, even flirting right in front of me. Only when he saw me suffering but unable to leave could he feel needed. On April Fool’s Day, he even faked a news report of his plane crashing into the ocean. He knew perfectly well the ocean was a shadow I could never overcome. He watched me run madly into the water while he and his awful friends laughed and took bets on the shore. The moment he learned the truth, Everett smashed his fist into the wall. “What… what have I been doing all these years?” He rushed to the cemetery, only to find a familiar figure standing in front of the tombstone. Chapter 7 My best friend held daisies, smiling at the headstone: “Serena, this is all I could do. You have to be fiercely happy for the rest of your life.” Everett rushed forward and grabbed her: “Where is Serena?! Tell me!” My best friend was startled, then furiously shook him off: “You bastard! Serena was killed by you, what else do you want?!” But under Everett’s relentless interrogation, she finally revealed the truth. The day I hit the wall and passed out, I met the man who had been helping me in secret—Grant Harrison. He was my sponsor when I danced, and the one I kept in contact with. Sensing my dangerous situation, he bribed the doctors and the funeral home in advance to fake my death. I was now living under a new name in California. He owned a top-tier dance theater there. A year later, I won the National Dance Championship in Los Angeles. On the podium, Grant walked toward me with a bouquet. He got down on one knee and pulled out a blue diamond ring. The crowd went wild. “Serena, if that marriage brought you pain, let me be your safe harbor for the next stop.” Just as I was about to nod, a man rushed the stage and swatted the ring away. “Serena! You can’t marry him!” Everett looked at me with bloodshot eyes: “You are my wife, how can you marry someone else?” I looked at him coldly: “Sir, you have the wrong person. I don’t know you.” “I’m sorry, I misunderstood you. But I love you. Decades of feelings shouldn’t end like this.” Grant tactfully stepped aside and dismissed the crowd. I figured there was no need to pretend anymore and said coldly: “Forgiveness? Everett, I told you the truth countless times, but you never believed me.”

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  • Broke Survival: 7 Days at LAX with $50 for a $120 Million Jackpot

    A bottle of water costs $15, and a sandwich is $40. People say we’re dead for sure. Little do they know, I’m a hardened “broke girl,” and this game falls right into my wheelhouse. I will be the only “broke” survivor to walk out of this hell. My 99 attempts to fight back couldn’t stop me from being sucked into this game world. The system’s electronic voice sounded: [Welcome, 100 players, to the Broke Survival Game!] [Initial funds: $50. Objective: Survive in the game area for 7 days.] [The winner gets a $1 million prize!] [Overspending, death, or leaving the game area will result in elimination—you will be burdened with a $1 million debt!] The voice paused, carrying a hint of cunning: [Now, do any cowards want to quit?] “Quit? Are you kidding me?” A punk with dyed blond hair and a lip ring sneered. “Seven days? I can survive just drinking tap water!” A chubby guy next to him in a cheap t-shirt wiped his sweat. “Yeah, exactly! $50 is plenty for hot dogs and pretzels if we budget right!” “Risk it all, turn a bicycle into a sports car!” “Only an idiot would quit!” The crowd buzzed with blind excitement. Not a single one of the 100 players quit. System voice: [Game rules activated. Players may no longer quit. 100 players have been deployed—Welcome to the Los Angeles International Airport (LAX) Labyrinth. Good luck staying alive!] With a flash of white light, I found myself in a massive, modern airport. It was huge, stretching out endlessly. Crowds of people bustled back and forth. It was impossible to tell who was a player and who was an NPC. My game account quietly showed my initial $50. Three metrics appeared on my interface: Hunger, Thirst, and Energy. All three were currently full. I saw a 24-hour convenience store across the way and walked over to check the prices. Just as I reached the refrigerators, a tearful exclamation exploded. “Shit!” It was the chubby guy from earlier. He was staring intensely at the cooler. “$15 for a bottle of water?! Is this a robbery?!” I walked over, my eyes scanning the shelves, and my heart sank. A cupcake was $50, a sandwich $40, a bagel $10, and even the cheapest bag of soda crackers was $18! A daily budget of $7.14? That wouldn’t even buy half a bottle of water. The chubby guy looked at me, his face written with despair. “Sister 66, we’re screwed! This money is only enough for three bottles of water! People are going to die in a week!” I sighed. “The system isn’t running a charity. I knew it wouldn’t be this simple.” Other players flooded into the convenience store, their faces reflecting the same shock and panic. The chubby guy pulled me aside. “Sister, I’m Player 44, Davis. Let’s form an alliance. It’s good to have a partner in the game. If someone bullies you, I can fight them.” He threw a few boxing jabs, looking reasonably agile. Before I fully understood the game’s rules, I didn’t want to ally with anyone, so I politely declined. I left the convenience store alone. First things first: find water. Free water. Outside the restrooms, I found a drinking water fountain. I found two discarded empty water bottles nearby, washed them thoroughly, and filled them to the brim. Water sorted. Cost: $0. Next, I needed to secure a massive amount of calories. I spotted a Starbucks. On the condiment bar, packets of white sugar, creamer, and raw sugar were neatly stacked. Sugar is a crucial energy source. The packets could be used in emergencies to prevent hypoglycemia. I walked over expressionless, my movements as natural and smooth as picking up something at home. Over a dozen sugar packets and a few creamers instantly slid into my pockets. The whole process took less than two seconds. Then, I calmly walked out of the Starbucks. Finding a secluded corner, I tore open two sugar packets and poured them into my mouth. The intense sweetness exploded, bringing a false sense of satisfaction. Calories sorted. Cost: $0. The airport’s AC was blasting like an icebox. Maybe the system did this on purpose; the colder it was, the faster you burned calories. My thin clothes couldn’t block the chill. I had to keep moving to stay warm. I found an airline blanket in a trash bin, discarded by a passenger getting off a flight. As time passed, my hunger grew stronger. At 8 PM, I wandered into a bakery. In the glass display, unsold baguettes and cheese breads gave off an enticing wheat aroma. My stomach let out a loud rumble. Relying on my acute “broke” intuition, I guessed the bread should be on sale by now. Sliced toast, originally $30, was now $15. But it wasn’t enough. Right before closing, the discount would be even lower, maybe even free. Every dollar saved was a chance to survive. I sat on a chair across from the bakery, resting with my eyes half-closed. Suddenly, an anonymous player broadcasted in the game’s global chat: [Hurry to the bakery in Zone A on L3! The bread here is half price!] “Half-price bread!” “Zone A! Hurry!” “Don’t grab it! It’s mine!” Twenty or thirty figures surged from all directions, frantically rushing the bakery. The small entrance instantly became a mob. In the chaos, I saw people waving cash, and others reaching directly for the bread on the shelves. The clerk shouted in panic, “Line up! Line up!” but it was completely useless. In just a few minutes, all the discounted bread on the shelves, including the toast I had my eye on, was swept clean! Those who managed to buy something looked relieved, as if they had survived a disaster. Those who didn’t beat their chests in frustration, their eyes full of despair. The air was filled with curses, complaints, and desperate sighs from other players. My Hunger level had already dropped by 70%. I took a deep breath, suppressing my stomach cramps, and shifted my gaze from the chaotic crowd up to the giant flight information display high above. Red flight statuses were continuously scrolling. It was time to show my real skills! In this airport, players could move anywhere. Even without a ticket, we could go to the departure gates. I quickly scanned the massive screen and precisely locked onto a few bold, red delayed flights. Only flights delayed for over 6 hours were my targets. Dragging my weakening legs, I walked toward one of the gates. A small crowd had already gathered there, the air thick with anxiety and sweat. Gate 102 had been delayed for 8 hours. Stranded passengers surrounded the gate agent. The agent was a young woman, her face flushed red, as the passengers’ spit practically flew into her face. “Is your airline completely useless?!” “My child is crying from hunger! Are you going to do anything?!” “Compensation! We demand compensation! Give us our money right now!” The scene was pure chaos. The agent’s voice drowned in the noise, and she looked like she was about to cry. This was the chance! I forcefully pushed my way to the center of the crowd. Not to break up the fight, but to stand directly in front of the gate agent. “Quiet!” I roared with all my might. The sudden outburst stunned the crowd into silence. I pointed at the mother holding a crying child, then addressed all the passengers, raising my voice to be as inflammatory as possible: “Look! Look how much the baby is crying! If we tear the roof down yelling here, is the plane going to fly? The airline made a huge mistake, and they must be held accountable! But what do we need most right now? Food! A place to rest! We need to save our energy to fight them to the end!” I turned to the overwhelmed agent, speaking rapidly: “Everyone is highly emotional. The priority is to calm the passengers down. Issue meal vouchers and hotel vouchers immediately! Let everyone eat and settle down first. Otherwise, if this blows up, can you take the responsibility?” “I’ve been telling them that meal vouchers and hotel vouchers can be issued, but they don’t want them,” the agent said, sounding wronged. “Everyone needs to line up and get them according to their boarding passes.” “You’re still talking about procedures at a time like this?” I interrupted her, pointing to the mom with the baby. “Look how tired this mother is. Can she really stand in line for your meal vouchers after holding a child for 8 hours?” I turned to the mom. “Ma’am, give me your boarding pass! I’ll get it for you.” I held out my hand with undeniable authority. The mom, grasping at straws, immediately shoved her boarding pass into my hand. Once someone took the lead, the effect was instant. Several other passengers—those with elderly family members, kids, or just looking extremely exhausted—started shoving their passes into my hands too. “Help me get one too!” “And mine!” In an instant, I was clutching over a dozen boarding passes. I turned to the agent, thrust the passes at her, and lowered my voice. “Hurry up. Let’s solve the most urgent ones first. Better than ending up on the news, right? Give me two extra meal vouchers, and I’ll help you pacify these people with kids. It gives everyone an out.” The agent looked at me gratefully and typed furiously on her computer. She pulled out a stack of meal vouchers, counted out the ones matching my passes, then quickly grabbed two more, shoving them all into my hands together with a thankful look in her eyes. Done! My heart hammered, but my face remained calm. “Ma’am, here you go! Take the baby and go eat!” “Sir, here’s yours!” I quickly distributed the corresponding vouchers and boarding passes back with practiced efficiency. Finally, I pinched the two extra vouchers, stuffed them into my innermost pocket, and shouted to the crowd: “Everyone go get your vouchers, eat, and rest! Save your strength! We’ll settle the score with them later!” While the crowd’s attention shifted to claiming their vouchers, I slipped away like an eel, disappearing into the bustling terminal concourse. To survive this game, you had to be better at finding loopholes than the average person. Just outside the lounge, I ran into Davis again. He smiled good-naturedly. “Sister, I saw what you did. You were negotiating like a mob boss in a movie. Are you sure you won’t ally with us? We might need each other’s help later on.” In just one day, he had gathered four other players around him. I still declined his invitation. After stuffing myself with a burger combo using the voucher, my Hunger level temporarily filled back up, but exhaustion washed over me like a tide. My Energy level had fallen below 50%. It was now 11 PM. The airport foot traffic had noticeably thinned out, most stores were closing, and the lights dimmed. An indescribable, eerie atmosphere began to settle in. The seats in the terminal all had armrests to prevent people from lying down. A young player, likely unable to hold on any longer, wrapped himself in a thin jacket and curled up on the floor, trying to sleep. Barely two minutes passed before a bright flashlight beamed directly onto his face. “Get up! No lying down here!” the security guard’s voice was robotic and devoid of emotion. The young player ignored the NPC, rolled over, and kept sleeping. Suddenly, a squad of guards armed with batons rushed out from a corner. Without a word, they forcefully hauled him up and threw him out the main doors of the airport. The global chat broadcasted: [Player 13 eliminated for leaving the game area. Debt: $1 million.] Right after, players in other zones were eliminated in the exact same way. The system was forcing our hand, using exhaustion and the cold to squeeze out the players’ last drop of sanity. By this time, my Energy level was critically low. To avoid elimination, I pulled the ragged blanket over myself and fell asleep sitting up in a terminal chair. The sun rising the next day informed us that only one day of the game had passed. My Energy barely crawled back to 75%, but my Hunger had dropped back down to 50%. With one meal voucher left, I wasn’t too panicked. I drank some cold water, ate two sugar packets, and headed toward the departure hall to hunt. Suddenly, a player sprinted past me, snatching a hot dog right out of a child’s hand. He brushed past me, nearly knocking me over. The child burst into tears. Security rushed over, surrounded the player, and tossed him into a police cruiser outside the airport. System broadcast: [Player 25 snatched NPC food, thrown out of the airport by security. Eliminated. Debt: $1 million.] I realized something: whatever you do in this airport, do not alert security. The airport was strange today. Not a single flight was delayed. I guessed the system had patched the loophole I exploited. All day, I wandered the hall like a normal passenger, popping into every duty-free and specialty store that offered free samples. Of course, I only ate and never bought anything. I watched the clerks’ faces while sampling, and as soon as I noticed them glaring at my freeloading, I’d quickly slip away. I managed to scrap by until the evening. I used my last voucher for dinner, topping up my Hunger again. My Energy dropped even lower today. This time, I chose not to make do with a terminal seat. I slipped into a dim side corridor. At the end of it was a golden real estate spot I’d discovered during the day: an abandoned equipment room with a cracked-open door. It was full of junk, but once the door closed, it was a private sanctuary. I had just stepped inside, before I even had time to shut the door properly, when—Bang!—a loud crash echoed as someone kicked the door wide open. A tall white guy stormed in, followed by two young punks. Scared, I shrank further back into the room. “Get out, this place is ours!” the tall guy yelled at me. I recognized him. Yesterday at the bakery, he was the one fighting the hardest. He had even snatched bread straight from the hands of two other players. Knowing I couldn’t mess with him, I decided to surrender my prime real estate. Just as I reached the door, the tall guy suddenly pulled out a switchblade and pressed it against my neck. “Hand over the rest of your cash and any food you have! Right fucking now! Or I’ll slice you open.” The madness and cruelty in their eyes told me they would absolutely do it! My brain raced. Fight back? I had zero chance of winning. Hand over the money? That meant being eliminated and bearing a $1 million debt. What do I do? What do I do? I swallowed hard. “Bro, let’s talk this out. You know robbery will get you eliminated by the system.” “Cut the crap! Hurry up, I’m out of patience.” The blade pressed deeper into my neck. I gave up resisting and decisively transferred my $50 balance to him. I could only earn a million if I stayed alive in the game. The tall guy got the money and shoved me out the door. As they closed the door, I heard a smug voice from inside: “Direct robbery works perfectly. Good thing he told us robbing wouldn’t get us eliminated. Now we don’t have to worry about running out of cash.” Who was “he”? Robbing NPCs was forbidden, but robbing—even killing—players was allowed. Who knew the rules this thoroughly? It was only day two, and I had lost my only $50. No money, no food. Was I just supposed to wait for death? Not long after, another anonymous broadcast echoed across the global chat: [The soda crackers at the Zone B 24-hour convenience store on the departure level are on sale.] The equipment room door opened. The tall guy and his lackeys walked out. I quickly hid to the side and tailed them toward the convenience store. The three of them used all their stolen money to buy soda crackers. Following the electronic chime of a successful transaction, the system broadcasted: [Players 5, 49, and 61 eliminated due to overspending. Debt: $1 million.] The tall guy wailed, “This is money I stole! How does that count as overspending?!” Before he could finish, he vanished into thin air like a beam of light. His two sidekicks disappeared like lightning strikes right after him. Dozens of bags of soda crackers and four or five bags of bread clattered onto the floor. I rushed over, stripped off my jacket, and wrapped the crackers and bread tightly inside. I guessed right. The system said from the start that overspending meant elimination, but everyone only had $50. How could anyone overspend? There was only one way: if you robbed another player’s money and spent more than $50, it counted as overspending. But when the tall guy robbed bread from players at the bakery, he wasn’t eliminated. That meant stealing food didn’t trigger the penalty. It was highly predictable that in the coming days, more people who figured this out would start brawling over food. So, the food had to be hidden perfectly. With this stash, I could absolutely survive until the end. I found five spots I deemed safe and scattered the crackers, intending to unlock one location each day to get through the final five days. By the time I finished, my Energy level was critically low again, hitting the red warning zone. I sat back down in the terminal chairs and fell asleep. Day three. A fit of violent, lung-tearing coughing erupted nearby, instantly drawing everyone’s attention. It was Player 47, Emily, a girl who looked very frail to begin with. She was curled up on a cold metal bench, her body shaking violently. Her face was flushed from coughing, bordering on purple. Her boyfriend, Brad, also a player, looked at her in disgust. “What’s wrong with you? A fever? Don’t tell me you can’t make it to day seven!” Emily’s voice was hoarse and weak, thick with phlegm. “I just… I feel so cold, so sick. Brad, can you hold me, please?” “No way. What if you infect me?” Brad refused. A piercing siren rang out across the entire terminal without warning. Heavy, synchronized footsteps approached from a distant corridor. Hazmat-suited quarantine personnel easily hoisted Emily up. “Let me go! I can’t be eliminated!” Emily screamed in terror, yelling at her boyfriend: “Brad, help me! Help me!” But Brad didn’t even look at her; he turned and bolted. The hazmat team ignored Emily’s cries. Under the horrified gazes of the other players, they threw her onto a stretcher cart and quickly disappeared down the corridor. A few seconds later, the system broadcast: [Player 47 severely endangered public health and safety. She has been forcibly removed from the game area for quarantine. Eliminated! Debt: $1 million!] [Player 87 severely endangered public health and safety. He has been forcibly removed from the game area for quarantine. Eliminated! Debt: $1 million!] Players looked at each other, their eyes brimming with suspicion. “87 ate food from the trash yesterday and had severe diarrhea today.” “You can’t catch a cold, and you can’t get diarrhea either.” Who would be next? Just the sound of a cough, even someone clearing their throat, was enough to make hearts pound. I had learned another rule: you cannot get sick. Even a minor cold or an upset stomach would get you dragged out of the game area. I survived the day relying on my scavenged bread and crackers. The airport was even colder today, literal freezing temperatures. I found a foil emergency space blanket in a trash can, discarded by a hiker. Wrapping it around myself kept me much warmer than that tiny, ragged airline blanket. By day four, more and more people were being eliminated. Waking up early, I decided to go grab my bread and crackers for the day. Avoiding the crowds, I headed to the first stash spot: a gap between a massive planter and the wall behind a remote restroom. Approaching it, I crouched down and reached into the familiar crevice. Empty! There was absolutely nothing inside. My heart plummeted. Unwilling to give up, I felt around carefully again. Not even a shred of the wrapper was left. Panicking, I sprinted to the next location. Nothing. Still nothing. All four locations where I hid the crackers had been robbed. Dozens of life-saving bags of soda crackers and bread had vanished overnight without a trace. My guaranteed victory had been completely overturned in an instant. To accurately locate every spot and silently clear them out in a single night—this wasn’t something an ordinary player could do. Who was it? Who had been watching me this whole time? My mood hit absolute rock bottom. I shamelessly went back to hunting for free samples, but the number of players doing the same had surged. The vendors were on high alert and had hidden all their sample trays. Even the Starbucks condiment bar was barren. The baristas had removed all the sugar packets. Trash cans became a battlefield. Many players still risked diarrhea to dig for scraps. By the time I checked them, not even a crumb was left. I dragged myself to 10 PM. All my stats were flashing red warnings. I walked toward a row of luxury boutiques. A player nearby whispered, “That girl’s probably getting eliminated soon. What’s she doing near the luxury stores?” In a trash can near the boutiques, I found several discarded designer bags and boxes. Travelers often threw away the packaging before departing to dodge customs taxes. I carefully stuffed the boxes into the most pristine Hermès paper bag, carrying it as I headed down to the departures level. During my earlier scouting, I noticed a high-end steakhouse there. Now, I was going to leverage it for a free resting spot and some complimentary appetizers. Pushing open the heavy glass doors, the warmth and aroma of roasted meat rushed over me. A server with a sweet smile jogged over to greet me. “Welcome! A table for how many, miss?” “Two.” I casually placed the eye-catching luxury shopping bag on the chair next to me, my voice carrying a trace of barely noticeable hoarseness. “Find me a quiet booth. I’m waiting for someone.” The server’s eyes swept over the bag, and her smile deepened. “Right away, miss. Right this way, please!”

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  • No Longer Your Helpless Mess

    Before summer break, I flew to Caleb’s university to surprise him. Instead, I found his sophomore lab mate clinging to him, asking who was prettier—her or me. Caleb gave a careless, distracted laugh: “Maya, of course. She’s way prettier than you.” The girl’s face immediately fell. I pushed the door open, just in time to see Caleb resting his hand affectionately on top of her head. “Are you going to cry over that? Maya isn’t just pretty, she’s fiercely independent,” he smiled. “Not like you. Without me, you’re just a helpless little mess.” 01 The girl’s whiny voice drifted from the lab: “You’re always bullying me! I’m not a helpless mess!” Caleb chuckled softly. But as he looked up, he froze, seeing me standing in the doorway. “Maya?” His hand was still resting on her hair as he called my name. He quickly walked over to me. “What are you doing here? Are your finals over?” “So I shouldn’t have come?” I asked. He laughed. “What are you talking about?” He waved toward the room. “I’m heading out, Harper. You finish the rest of the project yourself. My girl is here.” No sound came from inside. Caleb wrapped his arm around my shoulder and led me out into the hall. “Who was that?” “Harper Hayes. Just a sophomore in my department.” I stopped in my tracks. I knew that name. For the past year, that name had been coming up a lot. Even though I had never met her. “Do you like her?” He looked completely baffled and laughed. “What? How is that possible? She’s just a kid.” He looked at me, amused. “You’re getting jealous over this? My Maya is such a jealousy jar.” “Caleb…” “The guys and I planned a get-together tonight. It’ll be a welcome party for you,” he interrupted, looking down to text his friends before looking back up. “Let me look at you. Did you lose weight? Are you secretly dieting again? I told you, one hundred and twenty pounds is perfect. Are you trying to turn into a walking stick so I can use you as a cane?” I took a deep breath. “Right now, I’d like to take a cane and beat you to death with it.” He laughed, pulling me in for a kiss. Just then, a delicate voice called out from behind us: “Caleb.” 02 Caleb and I turned our heads at the same time. Harper was holding a jacket in her hands. “You left your windbreaker at my place again,” she pouted. “You’re always so forgetful.” “Oh,” Caleb took it. “And who is this?” She turned to me, blinking innocently as she looked me up and down. “You see your senior’s girlfriend and you don’t even say hi?” Caleb chuckled, lightly tapping her head with a rolled-up notebook. “Ouch! Why do you keep hitting me?! You’re so violent! I thought she was one of the older girls from our campus. Isn’t this lab building restricted to authorized students only? Did you secretly copy a key for her, Caleb? I’m telling Professor Miller!” Caleb finally realized the situation and asked me, “Wait, how did you get into the building?” “I tailgated some guy,” I said flatly. I looked at him. “Half an hour ago, I texted asking where you were. You didn’t reply, and you didn’t answer my calls.” Caleb frowned. “Huh?” “I’m so sorry,” Harper smiled apologetically. “Caleb and I were right in the middle of a critical derivation for our project, so he probably didn’t see it. Please don’t be mad at him over this. The pressure Professor Miller has been putting on us lately is just too much…” “That’s weird,” Caleb pulled out his phone. “Hey? Why is it on Do Not Disturb?” He muttered while adjusting the settings: “Must have bumped it in my pocket.” “Whatever. Let’s go.” I turned around. But the moment I turned, I heard Harper’s tiny voice from behind. “She looks so plain… it’s obviously all makeup…” 03 I stopped walking and turned back. Caleb looked confused. “What’s wrong?” I looked directly at Harper. “I’m not deaf. First, whether I look plain or not, you have zero right to gossip about it behind my back. Second, any woman with a shred of self-respect wouldn’t try to compare her looks to another guy’s girlfriend when she knows he’s taken.” Harper froze. Her eyes instantly turned red, and she looked at Caleb with extreme grievance. Caleb sighed. “Maya, what are you doing? I didn’t see your message. If you want to fight, fight with me. Don’t bully the younger girl.” I turned to him. “Oh, you’re defending her pretty fast. It makes me look like an unreasonable villain. I’m no forgiving saint. I cannot tolerate my boyfriend ignoring his phone for thirty minutes to keep another woman company, leaving me standing in ninety-degree heat on campus. I don’t care about the precious doors of your lab, and I won’t ever step foot in here again. And ‘Do Not Disturb’ requires actual swiping to activate; you don’t just bump it.” Caleb’s face stiffened. “What do you mean by that? I seriously don’t know how it got turned on. Why would I intentionally silence your notifications?” “Are you misunderstanding something…” Harper looked pitiful. I said coldly, “Don’t put on that tragic act for me. Whether I misunderstood or not, you know exactly what you’re doing in your heart.” The air was quiet for a moment. “Come on, why are we getting so serious?” Caleb pulled me into his arms, laughing like a peacemaker. “Harper couldn’t solve a problem earlier and used my phone to listen to Spotify, but how could she possibly mute you? You can be paranoid, but you can’t blame her. I probably just shoved it in my pocket and the screen was unlocked…” “Caleb, let’s break up.” I heard my own voice. Caleb froze. “Wait, you flew all the way across the country, and just because I missed your text, you want to break up with me?” He sounded almost amused by his own anger. “You also touched her head.” “That’s it?” His eyes widened. “Yeah.” I said flatly, “I find it disgusting. Is that not enough?” 04 I didn’t go to the welcome dinner that night. After telling Caleb we were done, I turned and walked away. He didn’t chase after me. Because Harper started crying. She was sobbing, gasping for air, looking incredibly fragile. Caleb was actually very good at handling people. Very good at coaxing them. When he wanted to be. My best friend from high school, Riley, went to the same university as him. I dropped my luggage at her dorm first. Hearing I hadn’t eaten, she insisted on taking me to a newly opened, viral restaurant. When we got to the mall, Riley went to the restroom first. I sat by the restaurant entrance, looking at the menu while waiting for a table. As fate would have it, Caleb had booked the exact same place. A loud group of guys walked right past me. “Caleb, didn’t you say your girl was coming? Where is she?” “Throwing a tantrum. She’s not coming,” Caleb’s tone was helpless. “What happened?” “Mad that I didn’t text back fast enough.” “That’s it?” The guy laughed. “Women are such a hassle. Thank God you’re doing long-distance. If you had to deal with that every day, who could survive?” “Women are all like this. They just want to be coaxed,” another guy joked. “Just get on your knees and beg a little, you’ll be fine.” “Beg? Why don’t you go beg?” Caleb used his folded umbrella to swat the guy. “Giving her the cold shoulder is good for her. These past three years, her temper has only gotten worse.” I looked up. The umbrella was pink and compact. It was definitely not a style a guy would use. Trailing right behind him, empty-handed, was Harper: “Honestly, I don’t think you did anything wrong, Caleb. If you’re not wrong, why should you apologize first? It’s not about who gets mad, it’s about logic…” I stood up. Riley came back just in time: “Is it our turn?” I shook my head. “Almost. Caleb is inside.” “Huh?” Riley hesitated. “Should we go somewhere else?” “No need.” The restaurant is open to the public. There’s no rule saying I can’t eat here just because he is. Five minutes later, our table was ready. Riley and I walked in, but right by the self-serve beverage station, someone suddenly rushed at us, screaming. “Oh no, I can’t hold it, move, move…” Before I could react. I was splashed head to toe by Harper, who was carrying two massive glasses of craft beer. 05 The commotion alerted the people in the private booths. By the time Caleb came out, Harper’s tears were falling one by one. “I really didn’t mean to. The floor by the drinks station is slippery, I couldn’t stop myself. I already said I’m sorry…” “You didn’t mean it?” Riley was furious. “In a place this big, you carry two huge glasses of beer and walk straight into Maya? Maya couldn’t even dodge. Do you think we’re blind?” “What happened?” Caleb stepped out. He paused when he saw me. “Why are you here?” I was soaked, covered in sticky beer, and completely out of patience. “Why? Did Mr. Sterling buy this whole property? Am I banned from anywhere you go?” He frowned. “Why are you firing off like a machine gun? Who said you couldn’t be here?” He stepped closer. “Why are you all wet?” Riley sneered. “Why don’t you ask your precious junior?” “Caleb, I swear I didn’t do it on purpose! My foot slipped!” Harper cried. “I didn’t expect anyone to be standing there. Why did she suddenly pop out of nowhere…” Caleb sighed. “I told you that you couldn’t handle the heavy lifting, but you insisted. Why were you carrying two massive glasses anyway? You should’ve just let me do it.” “Have you no shame?!” Riley erupted. “What do you mean she popped out of nowhere? We were walking perfectly fine. She clearly rammed into her on purpose!” “Riley, watch your mouth,” Caleb said coldly. “What’s your problem?” My temper flared. “Riley is defending me. Whether she did it on purpose or not, she knows it in her heart. You didn’t even ask what happened and you’re immediately taking her side? Are we not using logic anymore?” “How am I taking her side? I’m trying to be reasonable here.” His tone was exasperated. “Maya, take your anger out on me all you want, but she didn’t do it on purpose. Can you stop nitpicking and making things difficult for her?” I quietly stared at the man in front of me. We met in high school, knew each other for six years, and survived three years of long distance. In just one more year, I was supposed to get early admission to his university’s grad program. We had dreamed about marriage, painted pictures of our future, even talked about what our kids would look like. Yet now, after I was splashed with beer, with my dress literally dripping onto the floor, he was telling me to stop making things difficult for another woman. “I’m not making things difficult,” I said flatly. “My dress is ruined. It wasn’t expensive, maybe two hundred bucks. If she pays me back, we can call it even.” Harper froze. “Two hundred dollars is half my monthly grocery budget…” She looked at Caleb with red eyes. “Caleb, my dad will kill me…” “Oh, it’s fine, it’s fine.” One of the guys backed her up. “Don’t be scared, we can all chip in to cover it. It’s just two hundred bucks!” “Yeah, if we all pitch in twenty bucks, we’ve got it. Don’t cry, okay?” Caleb frowned. “Maya, Harper doesn’t come from a wealthy family. Two hundred dollars is a big deal to her. It’s just a dress. Let it go, okay? I’ll buy you a new one.” I sneered. “If she knows it’s a big deal, she should have been more careful. It’s my dress, and I have the right to demand compensation.” “It’s not really your dress, though,” Caleb suddenly said. I froze. “Maya, if I remember correctly, I bought that dress for you.” His voice was light, but every single word felt like a knife plunging into my chest. “Gifts given during a relationship can be legally taken back. “So let’s drop this. If you insist on pursuing it…” He paused, seemingly giving me a final chance to repent. “Then give the dress back to me.” 06 I quietly met his gaze. A second later, I turned, grabbed Riley—who was about to start screaming at him—and walked out of the restaurant. “Maya, how could you just walk away?!” Riley was fuming the whole way. “Did Caleb get kicked in the head by a donkey? He doesn’t care about you at all! How could he say something so disgusting to you?!” My footsteps halted. “Maya?” Riley looked at me with concern. “If you want to cry, just cry…” I shook my head. “I’m fine.” Afterward, I went to Riley’s dorm, took a shower, changed my clothes, and dropped the dirty dress off at the front desk of Caleb’s dorm building. Then, I went straight to the bus station. It was too late to book a flight or an express train, so my only option was an overnight Greyhound bus to get home. The overnight bus was loud. Babies crying, people arguing, mixed with the smell of cheap fast food. Caleb’s messages came through right then. “What kind of temper tantrum is this? Did you really think I’d make you return the clothes?” “I just felt you shouldn’t have been so aggressive. There were so many people from my department there. I can’t just throw all logic out the window and blindly side with my girlfriend.” “I ordered the exact same dress online and had it delivered to Riley’s dorm. Go downstairs and get it.” He sent more messages, but the screen was covered in water. My eyes were covered in water. I couldn’t see clearly. And I didn’t want to. I tapped the screen and blocked his number. When I woke up, it was 2 AM. My eyes hurt. My head hurt. The lights outside flickered, and the bus had quieted down. I suddenly remembered another time I took an overnight trip like this. It was also with Caleb. It was our sophomore year of high school. We went out of state for an English debate tournament. Tickets back were hard to get. The chaperone talked to our parents and let Caleb and me take an earlier bus back together. That night, I dozed off. When I woke up, I realized I had somehow ended up resting my head on his shoulder. I was mortified and quickly apologized. He just looked at me, smiled, and asked, “Having a good dream?” I shook my head. “Well, I was,” he smiled. “It was a great dream. You should keep leaning on me, so I can go back to it.” After that, we slowly grew closer. He was handsome, outgoing, and every time he played basketball, a crowd of girls would bring him water and cheer for him. Sometimes I would go watch for a bit, always standing in the back. Until one day, as I was leaving, I heard someone calling me from the court. “Maya Vance!” I froze, turned around, and saw Caleb jumping over the crowded bleachers, smiling at me. “Watch me!” A clean dribble, a fake-out, a perfect three-pointer. The crowd went wild. After the game, he asked me why I never stayed until the end. “Too many people. I can’t squeeze to the front.” “That’s easy. Next time, I’ll have them save you a seat.” The next time I went, I was indeed escorted to a seat in the very front row. “Caleb specifically saved this for you,” the guy who brought me there winked. At halftime, a bunch of girls rushed the court to hand him water. He waved them off and walked straight to me. “Where’s my water?” Me: “Huh?” He rolled his eyes playfully, placing a hand on my head: “Ms. Vance, there is no free lunch in this world. You admired my heroic posture all game, and you don’t even have a bottle of water for me? I’m heartbroken.” Eventually, the water delivery evolved, and he requested to change seats so he could sit right in front of me in class. The day we submitted our college applications, he cornered me at the classroom door. “What are you thinking about?” “Thinking about what?” He looked like he was laughing out of frustration. “Do you think I just love twisting my neck to look backward, or that I’m just bored? Maya, even the ants on the ground know how I feel about you.” My face burned hot. “But we didn’t get into the same college…” “Wow, you can actually say something so irresponsible?” He pulled me into a hug, staring at me. “Distance isn’t the problem. I’m just asking you one thing: Do you like me?” The setting sun spilled into the classroom, illuminating our faces. I blushed and nodded. That day, when a very light, gentle kiss landed, I felt like I was the luckiest person in the world.

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  • Eight Years to a Dead End, One Week to “I Do”

    We got together when I was 18. At 22, I followed him all the way to New York City. But in the end, all I got for my devotion was a casual, “I never planned to marry her, don’t make a big deal out of it.” Eight years of love led to absolutely nothing, so I chose to walk away. I was gone for three years. The day I returned to the city, his friends asked me: “It’s been three years. You guys must have made up by now, right?” They all thought I came back to beg for a reconciliation. Little did they know, I came back to get married to someone else. 01 “You’re getting married?” I was organizing the guest list and replied, “Yeah. The wedding is next week.” My friend paused on the other end of the line before asking, “Then… what about Ethan?” Hearing Ethan’s name after three long years gave me a momentary sense of whiplash. But Ethan and I had ended three years ago. I was the one who initiated the breakup. It was his birthday. I had come back from a business trip a day early, planning to give him a surprise, but I accidentally overheard him talking to his friends. A friend asked him, “You’re 26, man. When are you planning to propose to Chloe?” Ethan’s posture was lazy, a half-smile playing on his lips. “I never planned to marry her. Don’t make a big deal out of nothing.” His friend was stunned. “You guys have been together for years. If you don’t marry her, who are you going to marry?” Ethan scoffed. “You said it yourself. We’ve been together for years. Do you really think there’s any spark left?” To be honest, in that split second, I couldn’t believe my own ears. We had just been on the phone half an hour prior. On that call, his voice had been incredibly soft, playfully begging me to hurry back so we could celebrate his birthday together. It had only been thirty minutes, yet I could no longer associate that man with the gentle, considerate boyfriend I thought I knew. The thought of breaking up materialized in that exact moment. That night, I didn’t push open the door to confront him. Instead, I calmly turned around, went back to our apartment, and packed my bags. Ethan came home at 2 AM. The moment he walked through the door, he bumped right into me holding my suitcase. He froze for barely a second before quickly stepping forward, pulling me into his arms, and affectionately nuzzling the crook of my neck. “Is this a surprise? I love it.” I pushed him away. “Ethan.” “Yeah?” “Let’s break up.” It wasn’t that we had never threatened to break up before, but every single time, I was the one who lowered my head and begged for peace. Our mutual friends always said, “Ethan is insecure. He needs someone who loves him enough to never leave. If you really want to be with him long-term, you need to be more accommodating.” Back then, I really, truly loved him. So I was willing to coax him, putting his emotions above everything else. From 18 to 26, I loved him fiercely and without reservation. But in the end, all it earned me was: “I’m never going to marry her.” 02 “What are you talking about? Are you breaking up with me just because I didn’t spend my birthday with you?” Ethan’s voice pulled me back to reality. He looped his arms around me again. “Alright, I’m not mad. We’re not breaking up.” Actually, his friends weren’t entirely right. Ethan wasn’t an awkward lover. On the contrary, when he wanted to be, he was incredibly good at coaxing people. On the surface, every time we “broke up,” he was the one who initiated it, and I was the one who patched things up. But no one knew that in the dead of night, behind closed doors, he was the one who would use every trick in the book—soft words and hard demands—to win me back. He knew exactly how to poke at the softest parts of my heart. He made me willingly forgive him. Just like now. He was playing his old tricks again. Just as he leaned in to kiss me, I shoved him away hard. Caught off guard, he stumbled back a few steps. Barely steadying himself, he heard me say, “I’m serious. I’m not joking with you.” In an instant, his tone turned icy, his eyes dark and terrifying. “Say that again?” It wasn’t surprising he was angry. After eight years together, this was the very first time I had initiated a breakup. Everyone thought it was impossible for me to leave him. Even Ethan believed that. But this time, I was truly exhausted. My gaze lingered on his handsome profile for a few seconds before I pulled away without hesitation, grabbing my suitcase and walking toward the door. I hadn’t taken more than a few steps when the suitcase suddenly wouldn’t budge. Ethan gripped the handle of my luggage, staring daggers at me. “Why?” He had beautiful eyes. When those deep, reserved eyes looked at you, it always gave you the illusion of being stared at with profound love. I avoided his gaze. “If we don’t break up, will you marry me?” Over these eight years, he was rational, ambitious, and had long since planned out his perfect future. He just never included me in it. The silence in the room was terrifying. I don’t know how long that dead silence lasted before he finally asked: “Do we have to get married? Can’t we just date forever?” I met his gaze head-on. The man’s dark eyes instantly grew even more unfathomable. It was the same look that had made me fall for him the very first time we met. But no matter how hard it was to let go of eight years of history, continuing a dead-end relationship was pointless. I looked into those bottomless eyes and let out a small, bitter laugh. “Dating for too long gets boring.” The veins on his hand gripping the suitcase handle popped. He practically ground the words out through his teeth: “You’re bored?” “Yes.” Ethan said “Okay” three times in a row. By the third time, his eyes were bloodshot. I didn’t dare look at him anymore, terrified I’d look even more pathetic than he did. I turned around, yanked my suitcase free, and kept walking. In the quiet night, the only sound was the heavy rolling of my suitcase wheels against the hardwood floor. As I reached the entryway, a freezing voice came from behind me: “If you walk out that door today, don’t you ever come back!” I paused, my throat suddenly dry. After a long moment, I left him with a single word—”Okay”—and walked out without looking back. 03 After that day, we saw each other one last time. It was the night before I left New York. I realized I had left a crucial document in his study. I texted him to let him know before I went over. The living room was empty, so I headed straight for the study. Passing by the master bedroom, I heard voices. I instinctively looked inside and saw Ethan lying on the bed, while a woman carefully wiped his face with a warm cloth. I recognized her. Olivia Bennett. The daughter of his father’s close friend. She was also the fiancée his family had arranged for him. Noticing me, Olivia blushed and quickly explained: “Chloe, please don’t misunderstand. Ethan had too much to drink. We… nothing happened between us.” I nodded, having no desire to chat, and went to the study. When I came back out, the bedroom door had been shut. Even so, I could clearly hear Ethan call out, “Wifey~” His voice was affectionate, gentle, and intimate. Even though we had already broken up, in that moment, an uncontrollable sourness still spread through my chest. I didn’t dare listen anymore and quickened my pace to leave. As I reached the entryway, Ethan called out to me. “Don’t come over anymore after this. Olivia will mind.” He leaned against the bedroom doorframe, looking lethargic. His shirt was unbuttoned down to the third button, revealing a lipstick mark right on his collarbone. My eyes lingered on his collar for a few seconds before I nodded. “Okay.” The moment I stepped out the door, the sound of a shattering vase echoed from behind me. Followed by Olivia’s gasp: “You’re bleeding!” I didn’t turn back. I walked away as fast as I could. That was the last time we saw each other. Over the next three years, we never contacted each other once. So, to this day, he still didn’t know I was getting married. 04 When the news of my wedding got out, the first person to call me was Mason Cole. He was a mutual friend of mine and Ethan’s. “Chloe, I heard you’re getting married?” I didn’t hide it. “The wedding is next week. I won’t be sending you guys invitations.” My fiancé had already sent out invitations to his own circle; it wouldn’t be appropriate for me to send separate ones to my old crowd. As soon as the words left my mouth, I heard the mocking laughter of other people in the background. “See, I told you! If she was really getting married, why wouldn’t she invite you? It’s obviously just an excuse to come back to the city.” “She’s out of options, right? Ethan is getting officially engaged at the end of the month. She has to make one last desperate play.” “Exactly! After eight years together, how could she just stand by and watch Ethan marry someone else?” I froze, quickly realizing that all of Ethan’s friends were gathered together. They were waiting to see how I would beg Ethan to take me back. This was their usual MO. In the past, whenever Ethan and I fought, they would place bets on how many days it would take me to cave and beg for forgiveness. They were absolutely certain I couldn’t bear to let Ethan go. Setting aside how wealthy his family was, just based on those eight years of emotional investment, no one believed I could just drop it all and walk away. They clearly thought this time was no different. Just as the thought crossed my mind, someone yelled into the phone: “E! If she begs to get back together, are you gonna take your ex back?” After a long pause, Ethan’s voice finally drifted over the line, cool and slow: “I’m getting engaged. Why are you even bringing this up?” Someone laughed and joked: “You think Ethan is an idiot? Giving up the Bennett family heiress to marry a girl with zero background… If it were you, would you?” Amidst their roaring laughter, an old memory surfaced in my mind. When I first moved to the city, Ethan’s friends treated me with respect. I thought they had accepted me. That was until Mason’s birthday party, when Olivia lost a priceless diamond necklace. Her friends surrounded me, demanding I hand it over. By the time Ethan arrived, I had been shoved around and looked like a total mess. Olivia looked at Ethan and said: “Ethan, please don’t be mad. They just really wanted to help me find it, so they resorted to extreme measures…” “Once we find it, I’ll apologize to Chloe, okay?” Ethan smiled, walked up to me, and affectionately patted the top of my head. “Alright. It’s not a big deal.” I gripped the hem of his shirt. In the moment he appeared, all my grievances and feelings of being wronged rushed up at once. Just as I was about to defend myself, I heard him say: “If you wanted it, you should have just told me. Why do something like this?” In that split second, my brain completely short-circuited. I looked at the man in front of me in utter disbelief. “You don’t believe me?” Ethan looked at me and didn’t say a single word, but his mocking gaze said it all. I couldn’t stop shaking. My hands and feet went ice cold. After being together for so long, I thought he knew exactly what kind of person I was. I never expected that, in a situation like that, without even asking me a single question, he would immediately stand on the opposing side. In that moment, everyone was looking at me. With contempt. With mockery. With indifference. Not a single person trusted me. For some reason, it made me think of what my grandfather had told me before I moved: “Kid, I won’t stop you from doing what you want to do. But you have to remember, social classes aren’t that easy to cross.” “Even if he holds you in his heart, will his family and his friends ever truly accept you?” I had patted my chest and promised my grandpa, “Don’t worry, Grandpa! Ethan won’t let us down.” I was young and arrogant. I didn’t understand what ‘unsurpassable social classes’ meant. It was only when I was pushed into the storm, isolated and helpless, that I profoundly realized there was an invisible, insurmountable chasm between Ethan and me. 05 The laughter on the other end of the phone continued for a long time. I don’t know who shouted: “Mason, ask her where she’s holding the wedding. We used to be friends, the least we can do is drop by and give her a wedding gift.” After a moment, Mason’s voice came through: “Chloe, which church are you having the wedding at?” “The Grand Cathedral in Manhattan.” As soon as the words left my mouth, someone immediately chimed in: “Listen to her! I told you she’s delusional. The Vance family heir’s wedding is next week, and it’s also at the Grand Cathedral. Let me guess, her husband is Liam Vance?” The crowd laughed even harder. Even Mason couldn’t help but gently warn me: “You remember Liam Vance, right? He’s getting married next week too…” “Mason,” I cut him off. “That day is my wedding with Liam.” The other end of the line went dead silent. I don’t know how much time passed before an explosive roar of laughter erupted. “She must have lost her damn mind! Now she’s dragging Liam Vance into her delusions.” “She really will say anything to make Ethan jealous.” “Ethan, just take pity on her and go see her. After all, she went crazy because you broke up with her…” I didn’t listen to the rest. I hung up. A text message from an unknown number immediately popped up: [Add me back.] The familiar tone, the familiar phrasing—I instantly knew it was Ethan. Expressionless, I deleted the text, turned off my phone, and went to sleep. When I woke up and turned my phone back on the next morning, I received a video from Mason. It was a recording of what happened after I hung up last night. Ethan was sitting on a single sofa, lighting a cigarette, the glowing red ash illuminating his callous features. He let out a low, raspy laugh. “Plenty of people have broken up with me. Do I have to go see every single one of them?” “Hell yeah, E! But if you don’t go see Chloe, are we just gonna let her walk away empty-handed?” Someone else retorted: “It’s her own fault for wanting a breakup! Now she regrets it and wants to get back together—three years later! She’s too spoiled!” “Exactly. Look at her making up ridiculous lies about marrying Liam Vance. Ethan was way too good to her.” Ethan didn’t speak. He just looked down, playing with his phone, lost in thought. Then, Mason spoke up: “Chloe isn’t a liar. Maybe she’s telling the truth.” “Come on, Mason. Are you defending her because she gave you something on the side? Or do you have a thing for her?” Mason glared deeply at the guy. “Have you all forgotten about the time she was framed for stealing that necklace? It was because of your prejudice that she had to suffer all those dirty looks for nothing.” There was a brief silence in the private room. Suddenly, someone said: “It’s easy to prove if Chloe is lying. You guys all got the Vance family invitation, right?” “I’ll call home and have someone take a picture of the invite and send it to me.” About a minute later, the guy laughed. “I knew it. Why would Liam Vance marry Chloe Miller? The bride’s last name is Miller, but her first name is Harper.” “Ethan, you can relax. She definitely came back to beg for a reconciliation.” … The video ended there. They were right. Liam’s bride was named Harper. But what they didn’t know was that Harper was me. Three years ago, my grandfather consulted an astrologer who said I had been carrying a lot of bad energy in recent years, and legally changing my first name would ward off the bad luck. So, my grandfather gave me a new name. Harper. 06 I knew that coming back to the city meant I would inevitably run into Ethan. But I never expected to run into him this fast. On the day of my wedding dress fitting, Liam had a last-minute emergency at work and said he’d be late. When I arrived at the bridal boutique, Ethan was sitting in the VIP area. Our eyes met. I gave a polite nod of acknowledgment and followed the attendant into the dressing room. While I was waiting for the makeup artist, Ethan walked in and locked the door behind him. By the time I registered what was happening, he was already standing right behind me. The vanity mirror reflected his handsome face. “Why did you block me?” His tone was casual, as if we had never been apart. Actually, he was the one who deleted and blocked me first. Three years ago, on the day I left the city, he removed me from his contacts and blocked my number. How did I know? I didn’t, initially. Mason accidentally let it slip. Three years ago, Mason passed a message for Ethan, asking me for a specific photo of him. I told Mason I’d just send it directly to Ethan. But Mason said, “You won’t be able to. Just send it to me.” I was stunned. No one knew this, but Ethan and I had an unspoken rule— Even if we fought and broke up, we were never allowed to delete or block each other. That was the first time. And Ethan was the one who broke the rule. That day, after sending the photo to Mason, I opened my camera roll and deleted every single photo and file related to Ethan. At the same time, I deleted and blocked him on every single platform. And now, the instigator was here questioning me. I cautiously backed away, putting distance between us. “Ethan, we’re broken up. Besides, we’re both getting married soon. There’s no reason for us to contact each other anymore.” He slowly curved his lips into a meaningful smirk. “There’s no one else here. You don’t have to pretend.” I frowned. “Pretend what?” “Saying you’re getting married—isn’t it just to provoke me? To make me come back to you?” To be honest, I never expected that even after three years, Ethan would still be so absolutely certain I would go back to him. And I finally understood. During those eight years, I had tolerated his toxic behavior time and time again, which gave him this unshakable, arrogant confidence. “Ethan,” I said. “Whatever you want to think, I came back this time to hold my wedding. Once the wedding is over, I’m leaving.” “If I did anything that gave you the illusion I want to get back together, I apologize.” Ethan didn’t say a word. He silently scrutinized me. After a long time, he suddenly spoke: “Is it because I’m in an arranged marriage?” “It has nothing to do with that, Ethan. I’m marrying someone else—” He cut me off. “Okay, okay, I get it. You’re still mad.” He completely ignored the second half of my sentence and softened his tone. “It’s been three years. You’re really still holding a grudge?” Saying that, he raised his hand, wanting to pat my head like he used to. I dodged his hand, my brow furrowing deeply. “Do you not understand English? I said I came back this time to marry Liam Vance. It has nothing to do with you.” His hand just froze in mid-air. His eyes went cold, inch by inch, and his voice turned incredibly dark: “Chloe, if you wanted to find someone to piss me off, why did you have to pick Liam? You can’t even touch the threshold of the Vance family.” Just like before, Ethan still didn’t believe me. Those prejudices were etched into his very bones. He was convinced I couldn’t even get close to Liam, let alone marry into his family. For some reason, I suddenly laughed. “In your heart, am I really that pathetic?” His brow knitted tightly. “What are you talking about?” He paused, then let out a sigh. “Alright. If you want to come back to me, then come back.” “Come back where? To your marital home? What identity do you expect me to have when I go back?” His face darkened slightly. “Chloe, I’m already making concessions. What more do you want?” “I don’t need them.” Not wanting to waste any more time in this pointless argument, I tried to step around him and leave. As soon as I turned, he grabbed my wrist. Ethan’s voice was low: “If you really want to get married that badly, I can marry you.” I looked back at him, a mocking smile tugging at the corners of my mouth. “Marry me? Didn’t you say you never planned to marry me from the very start?” His face went stark white. “You… who told you that?” “You said it yourself.” I looked at him deeply. “That day, I was standing right outside the door.” Ethan’s eyes went from confused, to shocked, to a sudden, crushing realization. “So the reason you broke up with me… was because you heard that?” “Yes!” If I hadn’t acted on a whim to go back and celebrate his birthday that day, I might still be completely in the dark. I might still be desperately holding onto a relationship that was never going to lead anywhere. The atmosphere in the cramped dressing room instantly shifted. The man’s thin lips pressed into a cold, hard line. “Why didn’t you come in and ask me?” his voice was hoarse. “If I asked, wouldn’t the answer have been the same?” He wanted to say something else, but a knock on the door interrupted him. It was the boutique attendant. “Ms. Miller, do you need any help?” “No, I’m coming out.” Catching Ethan off guard, I ripped my hand away and walked out briskly. But when I saw who was outside the door, my footsteps faltered.

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  • Married to My Childhood Friend, Yet We Remained Strangers

    Even after marrying my childhood friend, we remained strangers. Except for our routine nightly obligations, we rarely saw each other. He had an incredibly cold personality. Even when I asked for a divorce, he only spaced out for a second before pushing himself up from my body. “Alright. Got it.” I said, “I don’t want custody of the kid either. He’s going to be your problem from now on.” “It’s fine.” I insisted, “You’ve worked hard these past few years. Thank you.” I had very little luggage. A single suitcase held everything I owned. Before leaving, I turned back to close the door. Carter, shirtless and covered in the scratch marks I’d just left on his back, stood silently on the balcony smoking a cigarette. 01 My sister Chloe Miller’s return to the States was trending everywhere on Twitter. After all, she was a dance prodigy who found fame young. In the interview video, she wore a red dress, looking as vibrant and fiercely dazzling as ever. But my attention was drawn to the final photo attached to the article. Through a half-lowered car window, Chloe’s head perfectly blocked the side profile of the man waiting inside. Though you couldn’t see his full face, the superior curve of the man’s brow, nose, and jawline was unmistakable. Not to mention, the angle of their bodies made it look exactly like they were kissing. Chloe’s fans were going crazy, digging everywhere to find out who owned the car. I recognized the owner at first glance. It was my husband, Carter Hayes. After all, a globally limited-edition Rolls-Royce Phantom was hard to mistake. It looked like Carter wouldn’t be coming home tonight. So, I comfortably took over our massive king-sized bed. Late in the night, a pair of ice-cold arms woke me up. “Are you awake?” The newcomer was very polite. “Sorry to bother you.” My mind was still a bit foggy. It took me a moment to gather the strength to sit up. He had already wrapped his arms around my body, making room for himself on his half of the bed. “Sorry,” I said. “I thought you weren’t coming home tonight.” The lamp clicked on. Carter turned his back to me and took off his bathrobe. The warm light painted his broad back and neck with a pale golden hue, like an oil painting, full of raw power and aesthetics. A minute later, that neck leaned in close to me. “Can we kiss?” He asked politely enough. But in reality, he didn’t wait for my consent at all. As our lips and teeth tangled, I could clearly feel the sweat slowly seeping through his skin beneath my palms. Carter propped himself up, extended his long arm, and opened the nightstand drawer on his side. Then, he frowned. “Why are we out?” “Sorry… I forgot to buy more,” I said slowly. Carter looked down at me for a moment, then lay back down beside me. He spoke in what sounded like a very considerate tone: “It’s fine. I’ll pick up a box on my way home from work tomorrow.” A box… If I had known, I would have hidden them. I braced myself and replied, “Thanks for the trouble.” “Don’t mention it.” 02 When I woke up the next day, the other half of the bed was already empty. I casually scrolled through my phone, and before I knew it, it was noon. The man I shared a bed with last night was in the news again. Carter Hayes, CEO of Hayes Corporation, was invited to watch Chloe Miller’s first stage performance since her return to the country. This time, the internet sleuths not only figured out that Carter was the owner of the car from last night, but they also used magnifying glasses to analyze the photos and concluded that the two definitely spent the night together. Because even though Carter was wearing a high-necked black shirt, it didn’t hide the hickey on his neck. And Chloe’s lip, coincidentally, was slightly bruised. You didn’t need much imagination to guess how intense they were last night. The hype was so massive that an insider soon leaked the backstory: Years ago, to ask for Chloe’s hand in marriage, Carter had threatened to voluntarily give up his inheritance rights to the Hayes empire. But at the critical moment, Chloe turned him down. She didn’t want to become a wealthy socialite wife and end her dancing career. Reuniting years later, the teenage lovers who missed their chance had both reached the absolute pinnacle of their respective fields. Every look, every gesture between them seemed to steep in their lingering past love. … The comments section was flooded, basically all praising how perfect they were for each other. Only one anonymous burner account posted a few consecutive comments: [Fake news. He has a wife.] Very quickly, that account was chased down and flamed by a mob: [So what if he has a wife? No one can replace the first love of his youth!] [Then he’ll just get a divorce and pursue Chloe again. Duh.] I was just about to hit ‘like’ on their comments when the trending page was flooded with a new picture. It was backstage after the dance performance. Carter was handing Chloe a bouquet. Chloe held the flowers, smiling like a little girl. And Carter, who never showed emotion to anyone, was looking at her, seemingly infected by her joy, with a smile on his own face. Though faint, it held a very rare kind of tenderness. My heart suddenly skipped a beat. A complex knot of emotions surged in my chest. We had known each other for decades. We had been married for five years. I had never seen Carter smile at me like that. And he had never, ever given me flowers. 03 If Chloe was Carter’s lingering regret from his youth, then I was the obligation forced upon him by the Hayes family. Chloe, Carter, and I all grew up in the same wealthy neighborhood and attended the same prep school. But they took calligraphy classes together under the same tutor since childhood; their bond was much closer. I only got Carter’s personal cell phone number half a month after our wedding. Right after we got married, Carter worked overtime and didn’t come back to the bridal estate for half a month. When my mother-in-law found out, she visited specifically to lecture me about not taking the initiative to care for my husband’s health. I sent him my first text message: [Sorry to bother you. Are you coming home for dinner tonight?] Half an hour later, he replied: [Who is this?] [Maya.] [Thank you. No need to wait for me.] It wasn’t until three months later that Carter sent me his first initiated text. [Christmas Eve dinner tomorrow.] Me: [Is there an occasion?] [We need to go back to the main estate.] [Okay. Do I need to bring anything?] A moment later, my phone chimed with the pleasant sound of a deposit: [Chase Bank: Your account ending in 730 has received a wire transfer of $100,000.00. Available balance: $100,123.00.] Carter replied: [You decide. Just buy whatever.] From that moment on, I knew Carter would never love me. He treated me like an employee of his company. He dismissed me with money. But I was very open-minded about it. An arranged marriage was exactly like this. It didn’t matter if he came home or not. I could just spend his money like crazy by myself. Our relationship only improved slightly after we spent a night at the Hayes estate. To fool the elders, he was forced to sleep in the same bed with me. I thought he wouldn’t touch me. But my mother-in-law had spiked the soup she served that night with a lot of “herbal supplements.” Carter spoke first: “I’m sorry.” Then he asked: “Can we?” And finally: “If you’re uncomfortable, tell me to stop.” I endured it for a long time before I finally let out a sound. “…I’m sorry, I think this is a bit too much for me.” “I’m sorry.” He apologized quickly. “It’s okay,” was all I could say. … A long time later, I couldn’t help but ask, “Why haven’t you stopped yet?” Carter finally lifted his head and looked at me. Under the dim yellow light, he seemed hesitant, but he still leaned down and kissed me. It was much later when I found out why he lost control that night. Chloe had started dating a guy abroad. That night was the day she went public with the relationship. 04 After finding out I was pregnant, I sent Carter a message. It was a photo of the obstetric ultrasound report. He was busy for a long time before replying: [Congratulations.] Five hours later, he finally realized something else was required. [Chase Bank: Your account ending in 730 has received a wire transfer of $5,000,000.00. Available balance: $6,000,123.00.] [Thanks for your hard work.] Six months later, our child, Leo Hayes, was born. Carter was very good to Leo. He set up a massive trust fund that covered his education, medical, and living expenses for a lifetime. The days passed slowly. Many people knew Carter Hayes was married, but they had no idea what his wife looked like. Except for our routine nightly obligations, we rarely saw each other. Except for discussing Leo, we never made small talk. In these five years, we never had a single fight over anything. You could even say we respected each other like polite guests. We were simply still strangers. At 3 PM, I picked up Leo from his private kindergarten. Pushing open the door, Chloe was lounging on our living room sofa, holding my little dog and waving at me. “You’re back?” Leo, who always kept a straight, serious face, let out a scream of joy: “Auntie Chloe!” He was Chloe’s biggest fan. Ever since he saw a video of her dancing, he had been obsessed. Chloe ruffled his hair and looked up at me with a beaming smile. “Maya, your son seems to like me more.” Leo, usually an old soul in a kid’s body, looked at her with sparkling eyes. “Auntie Chloe, you should live at our house from now on. Don’t leave, okay?” I carried the groceries I bought on the way home into the kitchen. From far away, I could hear Chloe’s giggles. “If I live at your house, where is your mommy going to live?” “She can leave,” Leo said. “She’s useless around here anyway.” … The water from the faucet rushed down into the sink. The kitchen door was suddenly pushed open. Carter stood in the doorway, looking a bit tired. “Can I come in?” “You can. What is it?” He pointed at the pot on the stove. “The soup smells really good. Can I have some?” “Sure.” I nodded. I had originally simmered it for him anyway. I ladled a bowl and handed it to him. Carter took it. “Thanks for your hard work. Thank you.” Walking out of the kitchen, I saw Chloe suddenly flash a smile at me. She said, “Maya, your soup is as delicious as always.” I froze, realizing the bowl I had just handed him was now in Chloe’s hands. She sighed comfortably as she sipped it. “I’m so jealous you know how to cook. Unlike me, I’ve never even stepped foot in a kitchen.” Leo chimed in, “Auntie Chloe, you’re so amazing at dancing. It doesn’t matter if you can’t cook. My mommy can just cook for you.” Since birth, Leo had been spoiled rotten by the Hayes family. I was the only person who was strict with him, refusing to let him act entitled or use his family’s wealth to bully other kids. As a result, Leo had always disliked me. He was like his father; he only valued the things, or people, he actually liked. Chloe wasn’t wrong. It wasn’t just my husband. My son, and even my dog, liked her better. The thought of divorce was finalized in that exact moment. 05 I asked Carter for a divorce on a night one week later. We had just finished. He suddenly said he had a work emergency and needed to leave. I interrupted him and said I had something to say too. As expected, he had no reaction after I said it. He just spaced out for a second, pushed himself off me, his face devoid of emotion. “Alright. Got it.” Like he was receiving a memo from his secretary. I said, “I don’t want custody of the kid either. He’s going to be your problem from now on.” “It’s fine.” I insisted, “You’ve worked hard these past few years. Thank you.” Even though there were no feelings, he did sleep with me for all these years. It was hard work for him, too. I had very little luggage. A single suitcase held everything I owned. The divorce papers were left on the living room coffee table. I had already signed them. Before leaving, I turned back to close the door. Carter, shirtless and covered in scratch marks, stood silently on the balcony smoking a cigarette. I didn’t tell anyone about the divorce. Leo was asleep in his room. Further away at the Miller estate, my parents were celebrating Chloe’s birthday. When Carter finished his cigarette, he would probably go find Chloe, too. Bringing along the gift he had prepared in his study— A custom-made red dance dress. The first time I saw it, I loved it too. But just like this marriage, it wasn’t something that belonged to me. No one remembered that when I was young, I had also won the National Youth Dance Championship trophy. My instructors used to say my physical gifts were one in a thousand. But after accidentally falling from a high stage, I could never dance again. After that, I locked myself in my room and cried every day. It was the most agonizing memory of my life. My parents grieved for a brief period, then turned around and sent Chloe to the exact same instructor. “If the older sister had talent, the younger sister’s might be even higher.” From that moment on, I couldn’t bear to look at anything related to dance. Tonight, like countless nights before it, was a very ordinary night. The wind was light. The moon was bright. From the moment I decided to leave, right up until I boarded the plane, I never looked back. Once I was on the flight, a beautiful flight attendant brought over a small slice of cake. “Dear Miss, thank you for choosing our airline. Our entire flight crew wishes you a very happy birthday.” I paused for a second. Then I smiled at her. “Thank you so much.” 06 The destination I chose was my grandmother’s house in the countryside. After getting off the plane, I had to catch a regional train, and then a dedicated tourist bus. In recent years, the mountain town where my grandmother lived had been developed into a tourist heritage site by the state. After enduring five or six hours of travel, the bus wound its way up the mountain roads of the Blue Ridge Mountains. Looking out the old glass windows, the white clouds seemed to grow right out of the earth. The wind rushed in, carrying a wave of summer heat. I took a few pictures and happily posted them on Instagram. A sudden phone ring broke my relaxed mood. It was Carter. “What is it?” “Leo has a fever. Do you know where the medical kit is?” “Second-floor storage room.” “Okay.” After a moment of silence, Carter added, “Found it. Thank you.” “You’re welcome.” I was just about to hang up when Carter continued, “Say hello to Grandma for me. Come back when you’ve had enough fun. Leo keeps asking for you.” I gripped the phone. “Then you need to tell him we’re already divorced.” Click. It sounded like Carter had lit a lighter. His tone was unnervingly calm. “Is this because of Noah Brooks?” “Noah Brooks?” It took me a long time to pull that name from the depths of my memory. I was baffled. “What does he have to do with this?” “He returned to the States,” Carter said. “Your IPs are currently in the exact same location.” “Carter,” I rubbed my temples. “You don’t seem very clear-headed right now. I don’t know what you’re talking about, and I don’t want to know.” “From now on, if you can’t find something, ask the housekeeper. If the kid is sick, take him to a doctor.” “I want our relationship from here on out to be completely undisturbed by one another.” Carter was silent for a moment. “Fine. As you wish.” 07 When I reached Grandma’s doorstep, I was thrilled. The once-rustic mountain town had become modernized, but it still retained its indigenous folk charm. The familiar front yard, the grape trellis, the creek… But— There was an unfamiliar person standing at the door. He was very young, wearing a black T-shirt and a silver bone chain. He seemed to have just washed his hair, carrying a cool, damp aura. I wheeled my suitcase up, looking at him hesitantly. He stared back at me. As we got closer, we both exclaimed in sudden realization: “Noah Brooks?” “Maya?” I couldn’t believe the coincidence. Returning to my hometown, I actually bumped into a former teammate from my competition days. During the years I gave up dancing due to my injury, Noah had kept going. After graduating from an arts conservatory, he, like Chloe, went abroad for further training. I had seen his promotional posters many times. The fact that Carter knew his itinerary so well was also because of Chloe. They were in the same dance company. Noah explained that since returning to the US, he had wanted to choreograph a unique piece inspired by Appalachian folk mythology. Since my grandmother’s village was famous for its heritage culture, he had come specifically to sketch out ideas and find inspiration. After a brief catch-up, Noah suddenly asked me tentatively, “Maya, after… back then, did you ever try to dance again?” I fell silent. Noah pressed on, “When I was in Europe, I met a doctor involved in sports medicine. His clinic specializes in this exact kind of rehabilitation. Maya… if you still want to dance, do you want to give it a try?” “The success rate might not be 100%,” he continued. “And the treatment costs can be quite high. But if you need it, I can… lend you the money.” Looking nervous, as if afraid he had said the wrong thing, he watched me carefully. “Of course, if you don’t want to, just pretend I never brought it up.” In the first few years after the accident, I never gave up on rehab. But those treatments ultimately yielded no results. Facing exorbitant rehab fees, I was filled with hope time and time again, only to face despair. Combined with my family’s subsequent business failures, we couldn’t afford the extra money, and I slowly gave up. Marrying Carter, hiding in a loveless marriage to drift through the years, I had long lost my former spirit. I wanted to reject Noah, but when the words reached my lips, they changed into: “I want to.” “Even if it’s only a 10% chance, I want to try.” After I said it, I stood frozen in place. My arms hung by my sides, trembling uncontrollably. My body… was still unwilling to give up. Plans changed immediately. After staying in the village to have dinner with Grandma, I contacted the professor Noah mentioned. Professor Ross asked me a lot of questions, mentioned he had successfully treated similar cases before, told me not to worry, and had his assistant book an appointment for next month. Hanging up the phone, I felt like I was dreaming. Noah seemed even more excited than I was. “This is amazing, Maya!” “Thank you.” My heart started racing, my entire body engulfed in a surreal feeling. He just shook his head. “Honestly, I’m doing this for myself too. Maya, if the treatment goes well, I want to ask you for a favor.” “Okay.” I didn’t even ask what the favor was. I just agreed instantly.

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  • She Stole My Identity to Become a Billionaire’s Daughter—So I Came Back from the Dead to Take It All Down

    She stole my identity to become a wealthy heiress. As I lay bleeding out and dying, she took my family heirloom, looking down at me with a solemn promise: “I will live a good life for you.” But just as she reached the absolute peak of her glamorous new life, I came back from the dead. 1. The Sterling family was gathered in the living room, their expressions a mix of shock and complex emotions. A manila folder of DNA results sat on the coffee table. I sat casually on the sofa, my expression calm, waiting for the final verdict to drop. No one could have ever imagined that the current darling of high society, the beloved Sterling heiress, was nothing but a fraud. A cheap knockoff. Right as the atmosphere peaked in its awkwardness, the door was pushed open. The other main character of this little drama had arrived. The bright smile on her face hadn’t yet faded; she was clearly in a fantastic mood. Turning her head and seeing the entire family gathered together, she froze for a second before cheerfully greeting everyone one by one. That is, until her gaze landed on my back. Sensing her stare, the corners of my lips curled up. “Who is this?” she asked, a hint of confusion in her voice. Her question snapped everyone out of their daze. But no one answered her. Or rather, they didn’t know how to answer her. They looked at her with complicated expressions, a flash of deep disgust hidden in their eyes. Even her “parents,” who had doted on her unconditionally, no longer had any warmth in their gaze. Their expressions were freezing cold as they stared straight at her face. Just as she started to shift uncomfortably, I stood up from the sofa, turned around, and smiled. “Long time no see, Ms. Davis.” Before she could even process it, I met her terrified, shrinking gaze and let my smile widen. Chloe Davis instinctively tightened her grip on her designer handbag. She probably never thought she would see me alive again. 2. Five years ago, on my way to reunite with my biological family, I was caught in a horrific car crash and left on the brink of death. She ignored my pleas for help. Instead, she pried the heirloom necklace from my hand and whispered that she would “live a good life for me.” But the sickest part? That car crash only happened because I got dragged into her mess. I refused to die like that. My overwhelming will to live caught the attention of a system, which bound itself to me. As long as I completed world-hopping missions, I could earn my resurrection. It was then I learned the truth. Chloe Davis was the female lead of a dark, twisted romance novel. That day, I had accidentally saved her as she was running away from the obsessive, psychotic male lead. But because of her “protagonist halo,” she survived the resulting car crash without a scratch, while I—a mere cannon fodder—was left to bleed out. When I reached out for help, she just took my necklace and promised to live my life. She never even thought about calling an ambulance… Later, she altered her appearance just enough, took my heirloom, and claimed my identity, returning to the Sterling family to become the apple of their eye. Yet, she still couldn’t escape the psychotic male lead, Damon Vance. She kept telling herself she was “avenging me,” but in reality, she was constantly entangled with Damon, deliberately using her doting adoptive youngest uncle to make Damon jealous. Damon was a lunatic. Once the youngest uncle became his target, he was subjected to endless sabotage, eventually having both his legs broken. A proud, brilliant man was dragged straight into the mud. And because the Sterling family refused to let Chloe be with Damon, he destroyed their entire empire, leaving the family ruined and dead. But what happened to Chloe and Damon? Absolutely nothing. Instead, after going through a series of “hardships” and realizing their toxic love for each other, they got their happily ever after. The Sterling family and my life were just stepping stones for their epic romance. 3. But now, right at the beginning of it all, I was back. Without the Sterling family’s backing, she was nothing more than a caged bird meant for Damon’s twisted games. Staring at my face, Chloe couldn’t make a sound for a long time. She had zero defense, because she never factored in the possibility that I could still be breathing. “It’s been a few years. I never expected Ms. Davis to actually take my name. You even made your face look a bit like mine…” I took a slow step toward her, feigning surprise. “I-I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to…” Smack! A sharp, ringing slap cut off Chloe’s pathetic defense, sending her face jerking to the side. “For saving your life, one slap is a bargain, Ms. Davis,” I said, rubbing my wrist with a scoff. I saved her out of the goodness of my heart, only to save an ungrateful snake. Chloe closed her eyes in humiliation, her voice turning hoarse. “This slap… I’ll count it as what I owe you. Luna Sterling, from now on, we are even.” “Mom, Dad, Grandpa… I’m sorry.” Chloe bowed deeply to the elders of the family, but they physically stepped back to avoid her. She stiffened. “We only have one child, Luna. We can’t accept such a grand gesture from you, Ms. Davis,” Mrs. Sterling said, her eyes burning with hatred now that the truth had fully sunk in. The precious daughter she had painstakingly searched for was a fake—and the indirect murderer of her real flesh and blood. “I know whatever I say, you won’t forgive me. But these past few years, I truly saw you as my real parents…” Chloe looked at Mrs. Sterling with a wounded expression, desperately trying to find a shred of pity or reluctance. She was disappointed. Aside from disgust and hatred, there was nothing. Suddenly, a commotion erupted at the front door. Someone barged in. “You actually dared to lay a hand on her?!” The furious male voice belonged to Damon Vance. He hadn’t left the perimeter. His dark, venomous eyes swept over everyone in the room. 4. “Damon, I’m fine,” Chloe said. The second Damon stepped in to shield her, tears welled up in her eyes, as if she finally had someone to pour all her grievances out to. “Did you do this?” Damon immediately locked his suspicious, murderous glare on me, the stranger in the room. I gave him a fearless, easy smile. “So what if I did? Ms. Davis accepted it willingly.” My words made Chloe’s face go rigid. “You have a death wish!” Damon was enraged. He reached out to choke me. But before anyone in the room could even react, a blur flashed before their eyes. I kicked him square in the chest, sending him flying backward onto the marble floor. You think I did all those system missions for nothing? I had faced psychos way crazier and stronger than Damon. I had learned martial arts, cultivated magic, and killed monsters. Thinking he could bully me just by being a little unhinged? He was dreaming. Damon curled up on the floor, groaning in pain. Chloe rushed to help him, her face full of concern. “Damon, are you okay? Don’t scare me!” she cried. Then she pointed her venom at me: “Luna! Don’t go too far! I already gave everything in the Sterling family back to you. Why did you have to hurt Damon?!” The resentment in her eyes was practically spilling over. She conveniently ignored the fact that Damon tried to attack me first. “Don’t make me laugh, Ms. Davis. The clothes on your back, the jewelry you’re wearing, even the ground you’re standing on—which of it doesn’t belong to the Sterling family?” I sneered, looking down at her. Chloe’s face drained of color. She bit her lip, looking down at her designer dress. All her dark, pathetic little thoughts were completely exposed in front of me. “Don’t act all high and mighty after leeching off us for years,” I said, ignoring her mental gymnastics, and took a step closer. “What are you doing?!” Chloe was on high alert, her shoulders shrinking back involuntarily. By this time, Damon had recovered slightly. He glared at me with pure hatred and cursed, “You bitch!” I laughed coldly and slammed my heel down directly onto his wrist. He broke out in a cold sweat from the pain. 5. “If you can’t speak properly, then keep your mouth shut,” I said, grinding the toe of my shoe into his wrist. “Ah! Luna Sterling, you bitch! I’ll kill you! I’m going to kill you!” Damon’s eyes were bloodshot, his expression utterly deranged. Without changing my expression, I applied more pressure. “Stop! Luna, stop! You’re going to break his wrist!” Chloe panicked. She could only scream at me to stop, not daring to physically pull me away. She was terrified I would kick her across the room just like I did him. “Mom, please! Please make her stop. I promise Damon and I will never appear in front of you again. Please, Mom…” Unable to stop me, Chloe turned to beg my mother. But Mrs. Sterling simply gave her a cold, flat look before turning away. Chloe’s heart went cold. She then threw pleading looks at my father, my older brother, my grandfather, and everyone else in the room. Not a single person stepped up to help her. Just as Chloe fell into total despair, the main doors opened again. A clear, youthful voice, tinged with confusion, rang out. “Do we have guests? Why is it so loud?” Everyone turned to look at the entryway. A teenager walked in, freezing when he saw the chaotic scene. He looked completely lost. To Chloe, he was her saving grace. “Liam! Save me!” she cried beautifully, treating Liam Sterling as her last lifeline. Liam quickly sensed the tension in the room. But this was the “sister” he had lived with for years, so his expression softened. 6. “Sister, what’s wrong?” “Liam, she is not your sister.” Mrs. Sterling stepped forward and pulled him aside. Liam was stunned. “Your only sister is Luna. This fraud, this ungrateful snake, doesn’t deserve to be called your sister.” The more Mrs. Sterling thought about it, the more she hated Chloe. Her biological daughter had done a good deed, only to have her identity stolen and be left for dead. If I hadn’t come back today, who knows how long they would have been kept in the dark? The faint smile on Liam’s face vanished completely. “No, it’s not like that… Liam, I just… I just thought…” Chloe’s defense was incredibly weak. She didn’t know what excuse would sound best. She took my identity because she “feared my family would be sad over my death”? Or because she wanted to “fulfill my dying wish of reuniting with them”? No matter how she spun it, it wasn’t exactly a noble act. “Chloe, you don’t need to explain anything to him. I’ll remember this humiliation. The Sterling family… I won’t let a single one of you off!” Damon couldn’t stand seeing Chloe beg. He arrogantly threatened everyone in the room. “Are you still tangling with this mad dog?” Liam frowned deeply. He knew Damon. Because Chloe had, on countless occasions, tearfully begged their youngest uncle to protect her so she could escape Damon. Yet, after other people went through hell to help her, she would turn right around and get back together with him. Faced with Liam’s questioning, Chloe guiltily looked away. She didn’t want to, but in her eyes, Damon was the only person in the world who truly loved her. It was just that his methods were a bit extreme… Looking at her face, I could guess exactly what kind of delusional garbage she was thinking. “You don’t even find him repulsive,” Liam clicked his tongue in disgust, having zero intention of getting involved. “Liam…” Chloe couldn’t believe the younger brother who used to be so close to her could turn on her so quickly. 7. Crack. Everyone’s attention was drawn back to the sharp sound. I touched my nose awkwardly. “Sorry, misjudged my strength.” Damon’s wrist was bent at a horrifying angle. Chloe was paralyzed with fear. I kindly offered some advice: “If you go to the ER now, they can still save it. But if you insist on staying here to throw around threats, I can’t guarantee his other hand will be okay.” Trespassing in a private residence? I call this justifiable self-defense. Damon and Chloe fled the house looking incredibly pathetic. After they left, the Sterling family held a massive internal meeting. Aside from my youngest uncle who was still overseas on a business trip, everyone attended. My identity was officially confirmed. What surprised me the most was that they didn’t act like a stereotypical soap-opera rich family, treating the “wrong daughter” scandal as a humiliation to be swept under the rug. Instead, they threw a massive, glamorous banquet to introduce me to everyone. They proudly announced that I was the real Luna, the sole heiress of the Sterling family. The elite circles accepted it far easier than I imagined. Then again, the guests were all families closely allied with the Sterlings. They wouldn’t dare cause drama. At the banquet, I finally met the man I had heard so much about—my youngest uncle, Arthur Sterling. Dressed in a sharp black tuxedo, an elegant smile playing on his lips, he stood out effortlessly in the crowd. Suddenly, someone whispered something in his ear. He raised an eyebrow in surprise, then his gaze shot straight across the room, locking onto me. 8. The moment our eyes met, an unspoken, dark energy passed between us. Intrigued, I smirked and downed the rest of my red wine. I have no idea how Chloe snuck into the banquet. Was it her protagonist halo at work? The moment Grandpa took the stage to officially announce my identity, she was hiding in a corner, her eyes red with tears. I noticed a lingering gaze and casually scanned the room, spotting her instantly. In the original plot, when she returned to the Sterling family as me, there was never a grand, public introduction like this. Maybe it was blood intuition, but Grandpa always had doubts about her identity. But a secret paternity test proved she was a Sterling. Of course, that was all secretly manipulated by Damon. Because of that, when the Sterling family eventually fell, Grandpa was the first loose end Damon eliminated. “Is Ms. Davis here to spectate today?” Since she was here, there was no need to let her hide in the shadows. My voice drew everyone’s attention. The crowd instinctively parted, exposing Chloe. “How does she have the nerve to show up?” “Is the Sterling family just letting her off the hook?” “I heard she’s still hooking up with that psycho, Damon Vance.” “Did she come to crash the party?” The younger guests whispered loudly. Chloe was fully exposed to the public eye. She lacked the radiant, confident aura she had when she was the “Sterling heiress.” Dressed in a flimsy white gown, she looked frail and delicate. Standing there quietly, she looked like a wilting white lily. Hearing my words, she bit her lip in humiliation, her eyes red, looking incredibly pitiful. But no one in this room was crazy enough to be Damon Vance. No one was going to step up and play white knight just because she squeezed out a few tears.

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  • The Day I Left, My Son Emptied His Piggy Bank for Me to Go

    On the day I was packing to leave the Sterling house, Julian leaned against the doorframe. He watched me gather my things, a half-smile playing on his lips: “What?” “Realized that having a kid didn’t force me to marry you?” “So now you think he’s useless, and you’re not even planning on taking him with you?” Before I could even open my mouth to respond. Oliver, who had been eavesdropping outside the door for a while, walked in. He carefully tipped his piggy bank, pouring all his saved coins into my hands. “Mommy, you have to take good care of yourself, okay?” “Also, can you promise me one thing? Promise me you’ll absolutely never come back.” “Aunt Chloe said that only if you leave completely, will she be willing to be my new mommy.” 1 After Oliver finished those few sentences. He blinked his big, dark eyes at me, his anticipation practically overflowing. Julian lowered his voice, carrying a hidden warning. “Oliver Sterling.” “Is this how school taught you to speak to your mother?” Oliver lowered his head, pouting. “But last time Aunt Chloe asked if Daddy liked Mommy, you said you didn’t.” “And I don’t really like her that much either…” “So if she wants to leave, just let her leave…” I had long since stopped feeling sad over these kinds of words from him. A week ago, for his sixth birthday. He threw a tantrum, insisting on celebrating it with Julian and Chloe. I suddenly felt like I wasn’t so afraid of losing them anymore. I didn’t have the slightest desire to stop him. Even when I walked past that restaurant that evening. I heard him introducing Chloe to the violinist as his mother, and my heart didn’t even skip a beat. 2 Because I was packing my suitcase, I was squatting down. My line of sight was perfectly level with little Oliver. I accepted his money and gave a slight nod. “Okay, I promise you.” I didn’t refer to myself as ‘Mommy’ anymore. I just said quietly: “I won’t come back to this house.” “And I won’t be your mother anymore. Oliver, you’re free.” He seemed surprised that I agreed so easily. He stared at me for two seconds. Then he started laughing, “Yay!” “Aunt Chloe is going to be my mommy from now on!!” He ran out the door, yelling that he was going to call Chloe with the good news. I packed my last piece of clothing. Zipped up the suitcase and stood up. Julian had been silent this whole time. But as I passed by him, he grabbed my arm. His eyes were half-closed, his expression unreadable. “Maya, not liking doesn’t mean hating.” “These past few years, I’ve gotten used to having you around.” “What exactly are you trying to prove by insisting on leaving?” By the end, his voice carried a faint trace of irritation. I wanted to say something, but felt it would be redundant and overly dramatic. So I just pulled my arm free and simply advised: “Take good care of Oliver.” I dragged my suitcase out of the Sterling house. Leaving the gated community required a long walk. The weather wasn’t great either. The cold wind whipped up fallen leaves from the roadside and threw them against me. It seemed very easy to end up looking pathetic. But still, I didn’t look back. Not even once. 3 I had rented an apartment in advance and also found a job. Based on my previous major, I applied for a position as an art teacher at a children’s art academy. My first day of work. Walking into the office, I saw several female teachers squatting in front of a little girl. “Zoey, does your uncle like desserts?” “Also, also, what type of girls does he like?” “Zoey, sweetie, is he coming to pick you up tonight?” The girl was expressionless. “Teachers, you called me over, didn’t you say you had issues with my drawing style that you wanted to discuss?” The teachers looked at each other awkwardly. “Since there’s no issue, I’m going back to class.” The girl turned around and saw me. She gave a faint greeting, “Hello, teacher.” Then she walked away without looking back. 4 The teachers were very friendly to me, the newcomer. After introducing the work process, they started chatting about the girl again. “You don’t know, right? That kid’s uncle is Carter Hayes.” “Along with Julian Sterling, they are known as the most eligible bachelors in Seattle.” “Oh wait, that’s not right. I heard Julian is already back together with his first love, Chloe, who just returned from abroad.” “Now there’s only Carter left.” Hearing Julian’s name again, I was so calm it was as if I didn’t know him. But Carter Hayes… I sighed silently. He was Julian’s mortal enemy. He had always hated me. Every time we crossed paths, without exception, he would mock me. “You’re pathetic. Photos of Julian and Chloe kissing are trending online, and you don’t even dare to breathe a word.” “What do you actually get by staying with Julian? A title or status?” “Maya, do you not know how to look at other men for once?” It was better to stay far away from the girl named Zoey. If Carter found out I was here, he might use his connections to get the academy to fire me. 5 Julian called me while I was squeezing onto the subway after work. “Hello?” The noisy background on my end made him pause. A few seconds later, he asked: “Where are you?” “On the subway.” He let out a barely audible scoff. “Taking the subway?” “Maya, you brought this on yourself.” I held onto the handrail and just asked: “Do you need something?” The sound of the man’s footsteps, even distorted by the connection, remained measured and unhurried. Just like him. I could even picture him walking from his desk to the floor-to-ceiling windows. “Oliver has a fever.” He said: “Give me your address, I’ll go pick you up.” “No need.” I lowered my eyes: “The Sterlings will take good care of him.” “He doesn’t need me.” Julian’s voice deepened slightly. “Are you really planning on abandoning him?” “Maya.” He sounded as if he found it absurd: “Just because he said he liked Chloe more?” Julian seemed to have never understood my feelings for Oliver. Even though I had explained it countless times. After the accident that night, I took emergency contraceptives, but he still didn’t believe me. Because I had liked him for years. So he was convinced I got pregnant with Oliver on purpose to force him into marriage. In his eyes, my feelings for Oliver weren’t deep. He thought I just saw him as a tool, or a bargaining chip. Which meant he didn’t know that because I was terrified Oliver would grow to like Chloe more and more… I had endured countless nights of breakdowns, agonizing over every little gain and loss. The subway arrived at the transfer station. The train car instantly emptied out significantly. “It’s not that, Julian.” I found a seat and sat down, my aching legs finally getting some relief. I said softly: “It’s because he does genuinely like Chloe more.” “And I don’t want to force myself anymore, racking my brain trying to please him.” Julian wanted to say something else. But the next second, Oliver’s voice came through the receiver, proving my point. “Daddy! My fever is gone!” “Can I go play with Aunt Chloe tomorrow?!” Julian’s Adam’s apple bobbed: “Maya, listen to me…” I hung up the phone. Got off at the next stop. And pushed that phone call out of my mind. 6 When Oliver heard his mother’s name, he paused. He didn’t keep insisting on Chloe. Instead, he tugged at Julian’s pant leg and asked: “Daddy, was it Mommy calling?” Julian gave a slight nod. “Oh, did you tell Mommy I’m sick? Is she coming back to see me?” Julian met those adorable, round eyes. Eventually, he hummed an agreement. Oliver had long expected Maya would be worried about him and wouldn’t be able to resist coming home. “Then I’ll go put on a mask so I don’t get Mommy sick.” “I’ll go play with Aunt Chloe later.” They hadn’t seen each other in a week. He didn’t seem as averse to seeing his mother anymore. Julian pressed his lips tightly together, “Mommy is working overtime.” “I didn’t ask her to come back.” Oliver still had a cooling patch on his forehead. Hearing this, he blinked. “Then, then I guess it’s fine to go find Aunt Chloe first…” He didn’t feel much disappointment. Anyway, Mommy would definitely come back to see him. Since he was little, whenever he was sick, Mommy was always the most anxious. He was just a little surprised. After all, in the past, even if Mommy was abroad, if she heard he was sick, she would fly back overnight. 7 I had been working for a week and basically adapted to the routine. Although Carter Hayes hadn’t shown up once. Just in case, every time parents came to the academy entrance to pick up their kids, I preferred to hide in the office and grade drawings. Only once, Zoey took a day off and didn’t come. I followed a colleague out to dismiss the students. Usually, I tried to treat all the students equally. But she still noticed a difference. 8 That day, Zoey was visibly feeling down. During the break, she rested her chin on her hands, staring out the window in the hallway. A few boys were chasing each other and accidentally knocked her over. They ran away without even apologizing. I immediately went over and squatted in front of her, “Are you okay, Zoey?” “Are you hurt? Let teacher take a look.” The girl covered her knee, refusing to let me see, and turned her head away. “I won’t trouble you.” “I’ll ask another teacher for a band-aid.” I was stunned for a moment, then said gently: “Ms. Vance has some too.” “I don’t want yours.” The back of her head was round, exuding a stubborn vibe. “I know you don’t like me. You don’t have to pretend to be nice to me.” I was surprised: “Teacher doesn’t dislike you at all.” “You’re well-behaved, polite, and very talented at drawing.” “Why wouldn’t teacher like you?” Zoey shot a quick glance at me. Then turned her head away again, humming softly. “That day when Ms. Lee asked you to walk me out, you heard it was me and you didn’t want to.” “And a few days ago, at noon, I didn’t want to eat with those other teachers, so I held my bowl and sat next to you. But you finished your food in one bite and ran away.” Having said that, she seemed to recall the scenes again. Her cheeks puffed out in anger as she turned back to accuse me: “No one has ever hated me this much!” “If you don’t like me, I won’t like you either.” I felt a bit awkward… That day at noon in the cafeteria, I thought I was being very subtle. Zoey had brought her bowl and sat across from me. Without looking at me, she just muttered: “They’re too loud. All they do is ask about my uncle.” I had shifted my tray to give her space. But not even half a minute later, Zoey’s smartwatch rang. It was Carter Hayes calling. I instinctively panicked, shoveled the rest of the food into my mouth, and practically ran. I couldn’t explain this, so I just looked at her earnestly. And said, word by word: “Then teacher was wrong. From now on, I will definitely wait to eat with you, and, and I’ll walk you out after class…” “But I really don’t dislike Zoey.” The girl turned half her face back. Her chubby profile looked a bit like a cartoon character. “Really?” Princess Zoey asked haughtily. “Really,” I promised. She held out both her arms to me, keeping a straight face, and said: “Then I need a hug…” “Zoey’s leg hurts.” The scrape on her knee was exposed. I picked her up and went to the office first to disinfect and apply medicine. Then back to the classroom, to make the boy who knocked her down apologize. Zoey blinked at me and offered a tiny smile. It was a signal that she was willing to reconcile. 9 During the lunch break, I reviewed Zoey’s file again. My eyes suddenly fixed on her birthdate. Today… was her birthday. Her unhappiness today was most likely related to this. I remembered the little bunny pattern on her pencil case, and the bunny plushie on her backpack. Rushing before school ended, I speed-crocheted a miniature lop-eared bunny doll. The dress it wore was similar to the one Zoey was wearing today. She finished the in-class assignment ten minutes earlier than the other students. I called her out and gave her the doll. “Happy birthday, Zoey.” She stared blankly for two seconds. “Is this bunny for me?” I smiled, my eyes curving, and nodded. “As cute as you.” “Thank you, Ms. Vance. I love it.” The little girl accepted it reservedly, her expression not showing much fluctuation. “You’re welcome. Go back to class.” She took two steps, then turned back. “Squat down.” She waved me over. I crouched down as instructed. “What’s wrong? Did you have something else to tell teacher?” The next second, the girl’s soft lips pressed against my cheek. “This is the first gift Zoey received today.” “And my favorite.” She clung to my side, her eyes shining with unconcealable delight. “Ms. Vance, do you think my uncle is handsome?” “I can give you his phone number, as a thank you for the bunny!” The warmth that had just risen in my heart instantly froze. “…No, no need.” 10 After finding out Carter Hayes wasn’t picking her up tonight. I promised Zoey I would walk her out. But when we reached the academy entrance and I saw the man leaning against the Maybach, I felt like I had been struck by lightning. “Uncle Carter, why did you come pick me up today?” The man’s gaze slowly shifted from my face. He glanced at Zoey, “Taking you out for your birthday, you little brat.” “Yay!” The girl hopped up and down. I braced myself and spoke: “Hello, Zoey’s guardian, I…” “What a surprise.” He interrupted me, a faint smile playing on his lips. “Julian Sterling actually let his woman come out and work.” To prevent him from mentioning me if he ran into Julian next time and causing a misunderstanding. I volunteered an explanation: “I’ve already left the Sterling house.” “My working here has nothing to do with Mr. Sterling.” Carter’s gaze sharpened slightly. “Because of Chloe?” “Did they bully you?” I didn’t want to discuss this with Carter, so I pretended not to hear. “Mr. Hayes, if you don’t have any questions regarding Zoey, I’ll be heading back to the office.” Zoey innocently waved her little hand. “Bye, teacher.” I waved back, “Bye-bye.” I turned and walked away, but I couldn’t shake the feeling of an intense gaze burning into my back. 11 I got off work 20 minutes later. When I stepped out of the academy, that Maybach was still parked by the entrance. The car window rolled down. Carter had his arm resting on the steering wheel. He turned his head and said lightly: “The little girl threw a fit and insisted you celebrate her birthday with us.” I looked at Zoey in the back seat. She let out a confused “Huh?” and tilted her head, asking: “Uncle Carter, didn’t you say…” Carter clicked his tongue, cutting her off. “No parking allowed here.” “Get in first, we’ll talk later.” Afraid that my hesitation would get him a parking ticket, I hurriedly got in. But it wasn’t until I saw Carter’s lips curving up through the rearview mirror that I realized. The car had been parked here for a long time. If he was going to get a ticket, he would have gotten one already…

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  • Her Parisian Ballet Dream, My Final Invoice

    My cousin Chloe wanted to go to Paris for an advanced ballet intensive. My mother asked me for $15,000 to pay for it. I took a screenshot of my bank account balance and sent it to her—exactly fifteen thousand dollars and twenty cents. Not a penny more. Five seconds later, her message popped up: [Keep a hundred bucks for groceries, transfer the rest to me right now.] 1 Before my finger could even touch the screen, another message from my mom popped up. “By the way, when are you coming home? Mom is making that chicken stew you love.” “Next month, my CD at the bank matures. I won’t be short a single penny, and I’ll pay you back immediately.” Home? I had actually gone home just yesterday. A former classmate was having her wedding in our hometown. Last week, I specifically mentioned this to my mom, telling her I would stay the night after the reception and head back to the city early the next morning. She agreed enthusiastically on the phone, saying she would leave the door unlocked for me. But when I arrived at the door, I found the deadbolt locked from the inside. I was just about to knock when my mother’s voice drifted out from inside. “As soon as your sister gets off work tonight, I’ll ask her for the money. Don’t worry, you are going to that ballet program.” “Aunt Sarah, will Maya agree to this? It’s $15,000, after all. And you still haven’t paid her back for what you borrowed before.” “Why wouldn’t she be willing? She has the softest heart.” My mom chuckled, a hint of disdain in her tone. “Let’s be honest, she’s plain-looking and has a terrible personality. If it wasn’t for the fact that she’s making a six-figure salary now, do you think I’d be willing to cater to her?” Chloe asked in a sweet, coaxing voice, “Then why did you buy her an iPhone right after high school graduation, and give her all that cash?” My mom’s voice pitched up sharply. “You silly girl! If I hadn’t waited on her hand and foot after high school and buttered her up, do you think she would have majored in Computer Science? Remember my coworker, Mrs. Smith’s son? He graduated from a no-name state college and barely makes fifty grand a year. You’ve been graduated for a while now; have you ever calculated how much we’ve spent on all your networking and connections?” My mom’s tone dripped with absolute indulgence. “Oh, you! You’ve almost drained my entire retirement fund. If I hadn’t been far-sighted enough to make sure Maya could subsidize us, how would you be living such a good life right now!” Chloe cheered happily. “Aunt Sarah, I knew you loved me even more than my own mom does! Next time I’m back in New York, you have to come with me, and I’ll take you out to have some fun!” “You got it! My Chloe is the sweetest!” I had drank at the wedding banquet, and my stomach was churning. I wanted to throw up but couldn’t. My first reaction in that moment was actually to thank myself for not replacing that cheap, non-soundproof front door. I drove through the night, straight back to Chicago. 2 My mom’s messages kept coming in nonstop. I just turned off my phone and went to sleep. Early the next morning, I went straight to the office to work. In this world, the only person who will never betray you is yourself. But when it rains, it pours. At half past ten, my stomach suddenly started cramping in agony again. At that moment, my phone vibrated. My mom’s texts were like a death warrant. “Why aren’t you replying? What are you doing?” “When can you wire that $15,000 I told you about yesterday?” … I replied to her: “My stomach hurts. We’ll talk later.” “Why does your stomach hurt again? I tell you to cook for yourself every day, but you insist on eating takeout. If your stomach doesn’t hurt, whose will?” I couldn’t be bothered to argue with her. I work overtime every single day; where would I find the time to cook for myself??? It was actually laughable. People like her, who talk a big game but never actually sacrifice anything, still manage to earn the reputation of being caring and maternal. I can only blame myself for being too stupid in the past to see through these cheap tricks. “Why is your face so pale?” My coworker, Harper, walked over holding a coffee and handed me a cup of hot water. “Did you eat something bad?” I opened my mouth, but it hurt so much I couldn’t make a sound. I could only wave my hand. She grabbed me and pulled me up. “Don’t try to tough it out. I’m taking you to the hospital.” The lights in the ER were blindingly bright. When the nurse handed me the test results, her eyes carried a trace of pity. “We are considering the possibility of a malignant tumor. We recommend further pathology tests.” I stared at that line on the medical report, suddenly feeling like life was a sick joke. Just last night, I was running the numbers. I figured if I ground it out at the company for a few more years, I’d save enough for a down payment and finally move out of my cramped apartment. After that, I would never give my mom another dime. I wanted to travel abroad, eat my favorite foods, buy clothes I actually liked. For the rest of my life, I was only going to love myself. But now, fate had blindsided me with a sledgehammer. 3 It was already late into the night when I got home. Harper had been comforting me the whole time. She even helped me request a day off work tomorrow so I could rest properly before discussing next steps. My mind was a chaotic mess. To make matters worse, my mom’s voice calls started flooding in. I declined them and texted: “I’m busy.” “Busy doing what? Did you take what I said seriously? Your sister has to pay the tuition the day after tomorrow. If you wait any longer, it’ll be too late.” “Don’t worry, I will definitely pay this money back to you.” Heh. Believing she would pay me back was like believing the sun would rise in the west. The empty promises she had painted for me over the years could fill my entire living room. “When your dad gets his bonus, I’ll buy you a new backpack.” “After we pay for Chloe’s recital, I’ll use the leftover money to buy you that dress.” “Mom will hold onto your Christmas money for you. I’ll add a little extra to it and give it back to you later.” … In the end, they were all just bubbles that popped into nothing. 4 I took a deep breath and called her. “Mom, I really want to ask you something. Have you ever truly seen me as your daughter? I’ve always been curious—why have you disliked me since I was little?” My mom sounded confused. “Why are you asking this all of a sudden? You’re letting your imagination run wild again. Stop talking nonsense. When is the money—” Tears streamed down my face. I took a picture of the medical report and sent it to her. “I’m sick. I need to keep this money for my medical treatments. You guys will have to figure something else out. And if you have any money left, please lend me some.” My mom immediately sent back a voice memo: “Stop joking around, Maya. Don’t copy those trashy internet pranks and joke about getting cancer. It’s bad luck! Your sister is just one step away from the finish line. When she gets back from this intensive, she’s guaranteed to become a principal dancer! When she makes it big, she’ll make sure you’re taken care of…” Suddenly, I didn’t want to hold it in anymore. I gripped the phone and said weakly, “Do I owe you guys? If she wants money, she can go sell her blood or a kidney!! Do not come looking for me!” After sending that, I shut my phone off completely. I pulled the covers over my head and cried until I was exhausted. Then, I secretly promised myself: it’s fine. This is the very last time I will ever shed tears for people who aren’t worth it. 5 Chloe is the daughter of my aunt. My aunt and my mom were both excellent test-takers from a small town. They both got into a great university in New York. But their destinies could not have been more different. After graduating, my mom moved back to our hometown and married my dad. The two of them lived a quiet life in our small suburban county. My aunt, however, stayed in New York and married a wealthy construction magnate. Back in the early 2000s, my uncle’s monthly income was more than my parents could save in several years. Every time my mom saw my aunt’s glamorous life, an unmistakable resentment would flash in her eyes. My aunt was well-off and very generous when it came to spending money on Chloe. From a young age, Chloe excelled in piano, dance, and art. Wherever she went, she was treated like a princess. During the holidays, my mom would only buy me new clothes if I scored straight A’s. Meanwhile, Chloe was already wearing Burberry. If Chloe’s family hadn’t met with disaster later on, I probably would have just remained a distant relative to her, rarely crossing paths. 6 I lay in my apartment for a full day and night. My phone was piled high with dozens of missed calls, a dense, overwhelming list. After clearing my work messages, I saw the family group chat was marked with “99+”. Scrolling up, it was entirely a one-sided tirade from my mom. She claimed I cursed at her and screamed at her. Some relatives in the chat were trying to play peacemaker, while others were cursing me for being an ungrateful wretch. Some even told me to be the bigger person and help pay for Chloe’s tuition. If this were the past, my eyes would be red and I’d be crying by now. But today, my heart felt like it was encased in a thick layer of ice. Not a single ripple of emotion. I directly tagged Chloe: “@Chloe, your aunt is going crazy in here on your behalf, and you’re just playing dead?” Chloe replied instantly: “Maya, why did you suddenly turn into this? I promise I will pay you back the money. I can write you a promissory note!” “What good is a promissory note? Go to a bank and get a loan! Or do you know perfectly well that you have to pay the bank back, but you think my money is just free?” I tagged Chloe again: “You are truly shameless. Playing the cuckoo bird and taking over my nest is one thing—I couldn’t do anything about my mom preferring you. But the way you salivate over my money just shows how incredibly greedy you are. It completely shatters your whole ‘innocent, artistic fairy’ persona.” My uncle chimed in: “Maya, there’s no overnight grudge between a mother and daughter. Besides, helping Chloe is helping yourself. When she’s rich and famous, won’t you get to bask in her glory?” “Oh? Then how about you pay that fifteen grand for her? You can have all the glory.” The group chat instantly went dead silent. Sure enough, the needle only hurts when it pricks your own skin. I typed out one last line: “My mom seems to love raising other people’s children. If any of you have kids you can’t afford, feel free to give them to her. As for my money, don’t any of you dare scheme for it.” I left the group chat, and the world was finally quiet. 7 That night, Chloe sent me a voice message: “Can we just treat this money as a loan from you? I’ll sign a legal loan agreement with you. And also, can you please stop joking about being sick to scare Aunt Sarah?” I let out a cold laugh. “Doesn’t it exhaust you to put on this act every single day?” “What?” she asked, sounding utterly incredulous. “Actually, you really enjoy this feeling, don’t you? One of your parents is dead, and the other abandoned you, but you managed to find the ultimate suckers to treat you like royalty, even willing to sacrifice their own biological daughter. Every time my mom showed you favoritism, you must have felt an incredible high, right? Look at you, Chloe, born to live a life of luxury. Everyone has to be crushed under your halo. Don’t contact me again. You are genuinely disgusting.” 8 The turning point in Chloe’s life happened when she was eleven. A government construction project my uncle was managing collapsed, crushing several people to death. I don’t know how many corrupt money trails were behind it, but in the end, he jumped off a building. My aunt fled to Miami, claiming she was going into business with a friend. Before she left, she dumped Chloe onto my mom. When she first arrived, Chloe was timid, like a startled kitten. But once she figured out the dynamics of my household, her true colors gradually started to show. First, she said she wanted to keep taking piano lessons, and then it was continuing her ballet training. Even at that young age, she knew exactly how to sweet-talk my mom. She told her to keep a ledger of all the expenses. She promised that when her mom came back to get her, they would pay my mom back in full. Our house only had two bedrooms and a living room. My mom said Chloe had never endured hardship, so my bedroom became her piano room and bedroom. My dad had no choice but to enclose the back porch and set up a small cot for me. In the winter, freezing winds howled through the cracks. Even buried under two heavy quilts, I would curl into a shivering ball. In the summer, there was no air conditioning. It was like a sauna. I could only curl up in a sleeping bag on the floor of my parents’ room to survive the night. I brought it up to my mom, pointing out that my old room was big enough to fit two twin beds. She just glared at me. “Chloe grew up sleeping in a big bed. How could she possibly squeeze in with you?” My dad, frustrated, told me to sleep in the bed with my mom, and he moved to the porch. During their argument, Chloe walked out. “Uncle John, let Maya have her room back. I can go sleep on the porch.” My mom’s heart immediately ached for her. She quickly pulled Chloe into a hug to comfort her. I was so miserable back then that I even absurdly prayed to God every night, begging for my aunt to strike it rich quickly. Or, if that failed, for her to marry another rich man and hurry up and take Chloe away. I waited and waited. I waited and waited. I waited until I was almost done with middle school, and she still hadn’t come to get Chloe. My dad couldn’t take it anymore. He argued with my mom, his eyes red with anger. “Her own mother doesn’t even care about her! Why should we?” My mom put her hands on her hips and screamed back: “Because I want to! I’m not using your money to raise her!” “Not using my money? Then who gets my paycheck? Her extracurriculars, her tutoring, all those clothes and shoes you buy her—which of those didn’t cost money?” My dad suddenly found his spine. “I can’t live like this anymore. If you don’t send that kid back to your sister, we’re getting a divorce!” After the screaming stopped, I peeked out from the porch door and asked, “If you get a divorce, who do I go with?” My mom shot me a vicious glare, then glared back at my dad. “John Miller, Maya stays with me! You can die without an heir for all I care!” My dad seemed to let out a sigh of relief. “Fine. Maya goes with you. I don’t want the house; leave it to her.” They went to file for divorce the very next day. My mom thought that by using me as a hostage to threaten my dad, he would definitely come crawling back, begging to remarry her. But by the time she realized my dad was serious, he had already found a new girlfriend at lightning speed. On the day my dad remarried, she grabbed my clothes and dragged me right into his wedding reception. She looked like she wanted to stab my dad to death. “Since you wanted to remarry so badly, you can take your daughter with you!” My dad and his new wife were left with nothing but embarrassment and anger. I was so humiliated I wanted the ground to swallow me whole. I ran away amidst the chaos. But when I got home, I found the front door locked tight. My mom had taken Chloe and disappeared to who-knows-where. I went back to the wedding reception and waited until all the guests had left. The ending to that farce was that I stayed at my dad’s new house for one night, and the next day, he dumped me back at the old house. He spoke with difficulty at the time: “Maya, you have to be tough. That house has my name on it, which means it’s your house. No one can kick you out.” I watched his back disappear at the end of the alley, my chest feeling suffocatingly tight. I had been abandoned by the whole world. No one wanted me. 9 My mom didn’t come to bother me again. But my cousin told me that Chloe went abroad anyway. I said, “I know.” Chloe had sent me a message saying, “No matter what you think, I will always get what I want. Actually, you’re quite pathetic. In the end, you’ll be left with absolutely nothing.” I asked my cousin, where did they get the money? She said my mom had mortgaged the house I grew up in and took out a $30,000 loan. I suddenly had a very bad feeling. My year-end bonus last year was $25,000. My mom said she would keep it safe for me, and she had the bank card. I had been so blinded by anger earlier that I forgot all about it. Knowing my mom’s character, she was absolutely capable of spending that money. But the fact that she was willing to take out a loan now meant that the money was already gone. I logged onto my online banking app to check. Just as I suspected, the balance was zero. I called my cousin back. “Wasn’t Chloe’s tuition only $15,000?” My cousin scoffed disdainfully. “That was before. Ever since you blocked Aunt Sarah, Chloe has been sweet-talking her every single day. She told her that from now on, she’s her real daughter. At our family dinner last time, Aunt Sarah even announced it. She said she’s acting like she never gave birth to you, and Chloe is her only daughter.” “Oh, right. Chloe paints such beautiful, perfect illusions. She promised she’ll take her on a European vacation in the future.” My cousin gritted her teeth in anger just mentioning Chloe. Finally, she added, “Maya, since you’ve had a falling out, don’t ever make up with her. It’s not worth it.” After I hung up the phone, three thousand dollars appeared in my bank account. “Maya, focus on getting your treatments first. Aside from life and death, everything else is trivial.” When we were little, my cousin was just as unloved as I was. My uncle favored sons, and my aunt was obsessed with providing for her own younger brother. Their hearts were entirely devoted to their son and my aunt’s brother. According to my uncle, she should have gone to work in a factory right after middle school. But she refused. She held onto a fierce determination, studying while working grueling hours, slowly upgrading her degree, and finally managed to pass the exams to get a secure government job in a rural township. Three thousand dollars was nearly half a year’s salary for her. The only help I had ever given my cousin was getting on video calls to tutor her for her college entrance exams. It was such a trivial kindness, but she remembered it to this day. Thinking about this, my heart felt a complex swirl of emotions. 10 That night, another unknown number sent me a message: “From your freshman year of high school, I was a divorced single mother raising you and Chloe all by myself. I worked like a mule! Maya Miller, does your heart not ache at all? Even if Mom made mistakes, it shouldn’t be enough for you to ignore me completely!” I blocked it immediately. A mule? That was Chloe’s mule, not mine. As far as I was concerned, my mom had run out of tricks. Since she was out of tricks, it was time for me to use mine. 11 I had a nightmare that night, taking me right back to high school. My mom was incredibly busy back then. She seemed absolutely determined to prove that she was right, and that Chloe was getting better and better. She went to work on weekdays, and during winter and summer breaks, she accompanied Chloe to competitions all over the country. As for me, outside of studying, I had to do all the chores. The only lucky thing was that I didn’t have to sleep on the porch anymore. After my dad remarried, my mom’s emotional state grew increasingly anxious and volatile. This anxiety manifested in very specific ways: Chloe only had to take the kitchen trash out to the curb to earn a tidal wave of praise from my mom. But if I made a stir-fry slightly too salty, I would be screamed at for half the day. The more indifferent my expression was, the harder she screamed. During my senior year, I felt like I was suffocating at home, so I moved into the school dorms. That same year, my mom started hiring expensive private tutors for Chloe. She was banking on her getting into a top-tier dance conservatory. But the price for that was my monthly living allowance being slashed from $100 down to $30. Sometimes, it was zero. This constant robbing of Peter to pay Paul drove me to the brink of insanity, but I had no effective way to fix it. At the time, I had a childhood best friend named Leo. I eventually swallowed my pride and borrowed money from him. When it happened too many times, he started secretly stuffing a $20 bill into my desk every week. Leo’s family lived just one street over from us. My mom eventually found out about it. One weekend when I came home, she was waiting for me in the living room, her face livid. She immediately started screaming: “Do you have any sense of shame?! You actually dare to take money from a male classmate! Are you sleeping with him?! Are you?!” She screamed at me for a full thirty minutes. I finally broke down. “You don’t give me any money! Am I supposed to go steal or rob?! I only borrowed Leo’s money, and it’s not like I won’t pay him back! If you care so much, then you give me the money! Why won’t you give it to me?!” I pointed right at Chloe’s nose and screamed, “You would rather spend all your money on an outsider than give your own biological daughter a dime! What kind of mother are you?!” After that fight, my mom slapped me across the face. I went back to the dorms that very night. On my way out, I took $300 from her drawer and left a note: “Raising me is your legal responsibility. If you push me any further, I’ll drag us all down together.” That was the moment I suddenly realized I had a truly stubborn temper. I was exactly like my grandmother. But I don’t know if she suddenly grew a conscience or if she was genuinely terrified by my extreme reaction. My mom actually didn’t scream at me, nor did she try to pick a fight. I took out $200 of that money and paid Leo back. I sat down and carefully ran the numbers. I could borrow Leo’s study materials. As long as I ate as little as possible, I could successfully survive the last few months of senior year. But Leo refused to take the money. “There’s no rush. You can pay me back after graduation. If it’s not enough, just tell me! Aren’t we best friends!” I studied like my life depended on it, channeling all my hatred and anger into the drive to move forward. When I stood in front of my mom holding an acceptance letter from an Ivy League university, she cried. It wasn’t because she was happy for me. It was because Chloe had bombed her auditions. During that final month, Chloe had started dating someone. Her final scores were only high enough to get into a mediocre community college arts program. For a rare two months, my mom gave Chloe the cold shoulder. She threw me a graduation party, bought me a new laptop and phone, and gave me a lump sum of $3,000 for college. Looking at the gray hair at her temples, that tiny seedling of desire for maternal love inside me, like a seed soaked in rainwater, quietly poked its head out. Later on, she was generally fine with me. During my master’s degree, to lessen her financial burden, I supported myself completely by tutoring. Chloe was also very friendly, and we managed to coexist peacefully. If I hadn’t overheard their conversation that day, I never would have imagined my mom was capable of orchestrating such a massive, deceitful scheme.

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  • The Day the Shoulder Rubs Stopped

    For ten whole years, my husband insisted on giving me a shoulder massage before bed. He gave me a terrible habit: without a shoulder rub, I couldn’t fall asleep. Recently, however, he stopped. When I asked him for a quick massage, he brushed me off. “Your shoulders are too thick and tense. I can’t even press down. Stop making things difficult for me.” Our nine-year-old son laughed from the side. “Daddy’s subtext is that you’re too ugly now, Mom. He doesn’t want to touch you.” My husband didn’t correct him. Instead, he let out a stifled chuckle. I stayed awake all night. When morning came, I asked him for a divorce. 1 At 5:30 AM, I woke up out of sheer habit. Ethan had his back to me, sleeping soundly. In the opposite room, our son’s bedroom was completely silent. At 5:40 AM, I finished washing up and put on casual clothes. At 5:50 AM, I applied some light makeup. Because it had been so long since I last used it, a thin layer of dust had settled over my makeup palette. I’ll never let it gather dust again, I promised myself. At 5:55 AM, I stood by the entryway, trying to choose a bag to take out. I didn’t know when it happened, but my small Louis Vuitton purse had somehow been replaced by a cheap canvas tote. I searched for a while but couldn’t find my old designer bags. Instead, tucked away in the deepest corner of the shoe cabinet, I found a brand-new LV Nano Speedy bag. The receipt inside was dated yesterday. The price was $2,500. I silently put the bag back, pretending I hadn’t seen it. At that moment, a memory hit me. A long time ago, when Ethan’s paycheck was delayed and we needed to pay for our son’s tutoring, I had sold all the designer bags in my closet for cash. At 6:00 AM, I grabbed nothing but my phone and an umbrella, and walked out the door. Normally at this hour, I would be in the kitchen flipping pancakes and frying bacon, while rushing to wake up my lazy son. Looking back now, I couldn’t believe I had repeated that mindless, exhausting routine for over five years. At 6:15 AM, I found a local, greasy-spoon diner and ordered a massive lumberjack skillet. It smelled incredible. For the first time in years, I could quietly finish a meal. I didn’t have to bite off half a sausage and rush to find my son’s school uniform, nor did I have to worry about my husband walking out, pinching his nose, and complaining about the smell of my food. I even ordered extra bacon and a side of loaded hash browns, indulging in a rare, unapologetic luxury. At 6:37 AM, Ethan called me. I put him on speaker, set the phone down, and continued eating. A voice thick with anger barked through the speaker: “Maya, where did you go?! Breakfast isn’t made, the clothes aren’t washed, you didn’t bring the milk in, and where the hell did you put the tie I asked for yesterday? I’m rushing to work here!” In the background, I could hear our son’s loud, whiny complaints: “There’s nothing on the table! I specifically said I wanted blueberry waffles last night! Mommy failed her job, Daddy, you need to punish her!” Ethan’s tone grew even more impatient. “Hurry up and get back here to cook! The school bus is coming soon. If he’s late, it’s entirely your fault!” I chewed my bacon, my expression unchanged. “I don’t have time. Figure it out yourselves.” He froze for a second, then asked in disbelief, “What did you say? You don’t have time?” “Ha! Maya, do you have a fever? You’re a stay-at-home mom, and you’re telling me you don’t have time to cook? Does that make any sense to you?” I lifted my mug, finished my coffee, and wiped my mouth in total satisfaction. I picked up the phone. “Let’s end this here, Ethan. I’m done living this life. Let’s get a divorce.” 2 He paused, his tone shifting from angry to utterly annoyed. “Have you lost your mind? Is it early menopause or something? Asking for a divorce out of nowhere?” I slowly walked down the street. “You want a reason? Fine. The reason is that you won’t rub my shoulders anymore. I want to find someone who is willing to rub my shoulders.” He laughed in disbelief. “Just because of that?” “Yeah. Also, yesterday when I told you my sneakers were falling apart and I wanted a $40 pair of flats, you said no.” He took a deep breath, suppressing his voice to issue a command: “Those shoes were almost fifty bucks. We aren’t exactly rich. Our son is only nine, and we have a lot of expenses coming up. It’s not like you don’t have other shoes to wear. Why waste the money? Besides, it’s the end of the month, I don’t have that much cash on me.” “Right. So I don’t want to waste your money anymore. Let’s divorce.” I hung up the phone. A moment later, he sent me a text. [Leo is very unhappy with your performance today. He gave you a zero! Reflect on your actions! Also, I have a company dinner tonight, so I won’t be home to eat.] I didn’t reply. I just strolled around aimlessly, eventually finding myself inside a high-end luxury mall. A pair of shoes in a display window stopped me in my tracks. Three-inch, bright red stiletto heels. Stunning and elegant. The price tag read $1,200. Ten years ago, I would have bought them without blinking. But the Maya standing here today only had eighty dollars to her name. It was the weekly grocery allowance Ethan gave me. I still had ten days left in the month, and I had to ensure every meal had meat, vegetables, soup, and fruit. I didn’t dare spend a single penny out of line. I saw a “Hiring” sign next to the window and walked in. The store manager looked me up and down for a few seconds and shook her head. “Miss, you’re in the wrong place. The discount shoe mart across the street is probably a better fit for you.” I looked at the “distressed” designer sneakers in her hands. They looked more ragged than the canvas shoes I had worn for ten years, yet the price tag was a staggering $3,500. She was packing them back into the box. Clearly, that specific style was a hard sell here. I kept my eyes on the hallway outside, spotting two familiar figures approaching. I turned back to the manager. “If I can sell those sneakers, will you give me those red heels in the window?” The manager raised an eyebrow. “A lot of people follow trends and look at these, but no one who sees the actual physical shoe can accept the design. We only have this one pair in stock, and no one has bought them. If you can actually sell them, I’ll pay for the red heels out of my own pocket.” Her eyes gleamed with haughty arrogance. I held out my hands and smiled. “Let me try.” She hesitated, then sighed. “Whatever, it’s a slow day. Give it a shot. If you can’t sell them in two hours, please leave. And I’m not paying you an hourly wage for this.” I nodded. Just as I put on a store blazer, customers walked in. A handsome, dashing man and a young, charming woman. Between them was a little boy. The man and woman were each holding one of his hands. The woman was carrying a beautiful bag—the exact Nano Speedy bag I had seen in the shoe cabinet this morning. The little boy looked up at the man. “Daddy Ethan, today is Mommy’s birthday. You’re not just going to give her a little purse, are you?” Ethan ruffled the boy’s hair and smiled. “Do I look like a cheapskate?” He then gently massaged the woman’s shoulders and said softly, “Chloe, pick whatever you want. It’s on me.” Chloe smiled and used her eyes to point at the red heels in the display. “I think those look nice, but they’re a bit expensive.” Ethan walked over, took one look, and waved it off. “It’s just twelve hundred bucks. Sales associate, wrap these up.” I stepped out from the back. “I’m sorry, but those shoes have already been reserved. A woman with such outstanding elegance like yourself… why not try this pair instead?” The moment I appeared, all three of them froze, their eyes widening in shock. Ethan’s face drained of color, his lips trembling slightly. 3 He stood in front of me, completely at a loss for words. Beside him, Chloe instinctively hid the LV bag behind her back. In that suffocating silence, the little boy fearlessly pointed at me and announced, “It’s the nanny! Daddy Ethan’s nanny!” Chloe hurriedly covered his mouth and offered me an awkward smile. “Toby is still little, he doesn’t remember things well. I’ve told him so many times that you are his senior’s wife, but he always gets it wrong.” The boy stuck his tongue out at me. “Who told her to be so chubby? She looks just like a maid.” Ethan frowned and spoke up. “Our two companies are having a joint dinner tonight. Chloe and I are old college friends, so we decided to stroll around beforehand and buy Toby some things.” “Since it happens to be Chloe’s birthday, I’m just accompanying her to buy what she needs first.” As he spoke, he seemed to gain confidence, as if he truly believed he had found a flawless excuse. He continued, “Since you’re working part-time here, just wrap up those red shoes. Tell the other customer you’re refunding them.” “I can’t refund them.” “It’s just a pair of shoes. Why can’t you refund them?” “Because the person who reserved them is me. And I don’t feel like refunding myself.” We stared at each other. He was speechless. I smiled and turned to Chloe. “Ms. Chloe has such gorgeous legs, honestly, flats would look even better on you, and they won’t hurt your feet. This pair, however, is our store’s flagship piece. It demands a very high level of aura and elegance from the wearer.” Chloe pursed her lips and looked at Ethan. Then, she walked over to the sofa, sat down, and extended her foot. “Then let me try them on.” I ignored the provocation in her eyes, knelt down, and helped her slip on the $3,500 “distressed” sneakers. “The size is perfect. It looks amazing. Everyone in the high-fashion world loves this aesthetic, and the price is quite reasonable.” Ethan lowered his voice to scold me. “What kind of taste do you have? Those look like they were dragged through dog crap! If Chloe wears those outside, people will think she’s a beggar!” I gasped in mock surprise. “Sir, if you aren’t in the fashion industry, you wouldn’t understand. This is the hottest shoe among major influencers right now. Ms. Chloe is so trendy, I’m sure she knows a masterpiece when she sees one.” I pointed to my phone propped up behind me. “Even my TikTok livestream viewers are saying it looks great.” Her brow twitched as she forced a stiff smile. “It… it does look quite nice. Wrap them up. How much are they?” I smiled. “Three thousand five hundred. Very affordable. For a wealthy woman like you, that’s probably just the cost of a casual dinner.” Her smile was practically sliding off her face. But I had already swiftly boxed up the shoes and handed them to her. “Will that be card or Apple Pay?” Chloe looked at Ethan. Ethan’s expression was incredibly unnatural. “I already told you I’m buying you the red ones. Put those ugly things away, don’t make things difficult for Chloe.” I laughed. “You want the red ones, sir? I’ll wrap them up for you right now.” With that, I turned to the livestream and said, “This gentleman wants to buy these red heels for his wife at home!” The chat went wild. [Wait, so that woman next to him isn’t his wife?] [Is he cheating?!] [Watch, if he pays for the other woman, he’s definitely a cheater!] Quickly, the red heels were boxed up as well. With a rigid face, Chloe tapped her card and paid the $3,500. She didn’t say another word. She grabbed the shopping bag, took her son’s hand, and stormed out. Ethan swiped his card for the $1,200 red heels. His face was thunderous, but he remained utterly silent. In less than ten minutes, the store had made nearly five thousand dollars in sales. The ecstatic store manager immediately transferred the equivalent value of the red heels to my account. She even tried to convince me to stay and work full-time. Ethan grabbed my arm and dragged me out. “She’s a housewife! She doesn’t need to work!” I shook off his hand and politely declined the manager’s offer. Because I didn’t know what kind of career I wanted yet. The rest of my life was long. I refused to waste my limited time on something I wasn’t passionate about ever again. 4 After sending a few rapid-fire texts on his phone, Ethan caught up to me. “Great. You refuse to cook just so you can come here and hustle for shoes? Is that all you have in your brain? Shoes?” I didn’t answer. I walked into a clothing boutique, intending to buy myself a couple of new outfits. He pinched the bridge of his nose, speaking with exasperated resignation. “I know you’re misunderstanding my relationship with Chloe again.” “How many times do I have to tell you? She was an underclassman in my college program. We were good friends back then. We coincidentally ran into each other during a recent project, so we’ve been interacting more.” “She was just abandoned by her ex-husband. She was forced to find a job and was being bullied by twenty-something interns. I felt bad for her, so I helped her out a bit.” I gave a half-smile. “So, you drop two and a half grand on a designer bag without a second thought? You massage her shoulders in public?” He opened his mouth but hesitated. After a long pause, he squeezed out a sentence: “Fine, I’ll buy you the exact same bag. Will that make you happy?” I had seen this attitude from him entirely too many times. Six months ago, Chloe visited our house for the first time. From that day on, the lingering scent of her rose perfume never left my home. It was also around that time that the quality of Ethan’s shoulder rubs began to decline. First, the speed slowed down. Then, the pressure became lighter. Finally, the duration shortened… I slowly started losing sleep. During the day, I felt lethargic and powerless. When I brought it up, he accused me of picking fights over nothing. Whenever he threw a temper tantrum, I became unhappy. And whenever that happened, he would buy some cheap trinket to appease me. Now, I was utterly exhausted by this dynamic. I sent him a screenshot. “There were people who recognized you in the livestream just now. You’re currently up for a promotion. If rumors of an illicit affair spread, you’ll probably get pushed out.” “Right now, everyone is guessing you’re having an affair. Unless we’re divorced, there is no legitimate reason for the two of you to be together in a shoe store like that.” He rubbed his temples. “Can you stop making a scene? We have a son. Do you think I don’t know what you’re plotting? You’re just paranoid and trying to use this trick to sever all my social connections!” “Let me make this perfectly clear: Chloe and I have a completely innocent relationship. And stop using divorce to threaten me, because I don’t believe for a second that you’d abandon our son.” “If you insist on a divorce, fine. I get custody of Leo, and you’ll never see him again for the rest of your life.” I nodded. “Deal. Let’s do it.” He froze. “You’re completely unreasonable!” He stormed off in a rage. He didn’t buy a single thing for our son, despite his earlier excuses. I shopped until eight o’clock that night before heading home. As soon as I opened the door, I heard Leo grunting and making aggressive slicing noises. I thought he was playing a video game. I turned my head and saw him using a pair of scissors to frantically slash at a Louis Vuitton bag. When he saw me, he scoffed coldly and threw the shredded, ruined bag at my feet. “Daddy bought this for you! It was super expensive, over two thousand dollars! But you didn’t cook for me today, and you didn’t help me with my homework, and you made me eat instant ramen for dinner! I have to punish you!” With that, he picked up a slipper and hurled it directly at the mangled bag. “I’m punishing you by making sure you don’t get the bag! Hmph!” I looked at him calmly. “Do you think using that tone with your mother is appropriate?” The corner of his mouth curled up as he clicked his tongue. “What kind of mother are you? Someone like Aunt Chloe is a real mother. She’s pretty, she smells nice… Having a mom like that go to my parent-teacher conferences would actually give me some dignity.” The very last, tiny spark of hope in my heart was permanently extinguished. I asked him, “Where’s your dad? Why didn’t he come home to cook for you?” He threw his hands up. “He didn’t come home! A delivery guy brought this bag. Daddy is busy with work, of course he doesn’t have time to come home. He’s not like you, lounging around all day doing absolutely nothing!” I asked again, “Did he tell you to eat instant ramen?” He put his hands on his hips. “Daddy is working overtime! He doesn’t have time to cook for me! Besides, that’s your job, you can’t just push everything onto him!” I let out a soft laugh. “Do you really believe he’s working overtime?” He shrugged. “What else would he be doing?” I waved him over. “Come on. I’ll take you out to eat.” He lifted his chin high, like a victorious general. “I want fried chicken!” “No fried chicken. I’m taking you to a steakhouse.” He got excited. “The really expensive one downtown?” “Yes.” Half an hour later, we arrived at the entrance of the restaurant. Through the floor-to-ceiling windows, Ethan and Chloe were sitting across from each other. He was attentively wiping her mouth with a napkin. At the same time, his other arm was wrapped around a little boy who was playfully climbing on his back. It was Chloe’s son, Toby. Ethan generously handed his own phone over to let the boy play games. The little boy kissed Ethan on the cheek and laughed, “Daddy Ethan, you’re the best.” In that exact split second, Leo bolted from my side and charged through the doors. 5 The moment I turned my head, I heard the sound of chairs crashing to the floor inside. Children were wailing, and people were screaming. “He’s not your dad! He’s my new dad!” Then came Leo’s ear-piercing shrieks. I had no desire to watch the fallout. I turned around, walked straight into the elevator, and left. After returning home, I packed my luggage and headed to the train station that very night. My train wasn’t until the next morning, so I booked a cheap motel room nearby for the night. Ten years of exhausting domestic labor had left my neck and shoulders stiff and knotted. Sleeping on the uncomfortable motel pillows was akin to torture. I tried to massage my own shoulders to release the tension, but I couldn’t get the angle right. Unable to sleep, I simply sat up, leaned against the headboard, and closed my eyes. The moment I shut my eyes, Ethan’s words from the past echoed hauntingly in my ears. “I’m so lucky! I can’t believe you actually married me!”* “Work is too tiring, just quit. From now on, you stay home with the kid, and I’ll go out and make the money.”* “You worked so hard today. From now on, I’ll rub your shoulders for thirty minutes every single night so you won’t be too tired.”* “I’m sorry. It’s because my salary is too low that you have to work so hard.”* “Once we’re financially stable, I’ll hire a nanny for you. By then, your shoulders won’t hurt anymore.”* I had completely lost my mind to those sweet nothings. Every night, I subconsciously waited for him to come home and rub my shoulders; only then could I fall asleep. Later, as he climbed higher and higher up the corporate ladder, he came home later and later. The thirty-minute shoulder rubs dwindled to ten minutes. I didn’t dare complain. I endured it, year after year, until he finally got his massive promotion. His salary was six times what it used to be. That day, he said he was bringing someone home for me to meet. I thought he was finally fulfilling his promise to hire a nanny. I couldn’t help but share the joyous news with all our neighbors. But that evening, he walked in with Chloe and her son. At the time, Chloe’s face was bruised, and she was holding her crying child. Ethan didn’t consult me at all. He immediately set them up in the guest bedroom. “Chloe has had a hard life. Her ex beat her up like this. Since I ran into her, I can’t just sit back and do nothing. Let her stay here for a while.” And just like that, the promise of a nanny was indefinitely shelved. Chloe lived in our house for forty days. She loved roses, so every corner of the house was stuffed with rose bouquets. Pollen made me sneeze uncontrollably, so she would “thoughtfully” hand me a medical mask. I cooked a four-course dinner with soup; she said she only ate plain white rice. Afterward, Ethan inexplicably complained that my cooking was too greasy and unhealthy. I was used to cleaning the house right after dropping Leo off at school. More often than not, I’d find her just waking up, laying a yoga mat in the living room to stretch. When she saw me grab the vacuum, she would smile and put a finger to her lips, gesturing for me to be quiet. I had to switch to a broom. Naturally, the chores took much longer. When Ethan came home for lunch, he’d find me still cooking in the kitchen. He would scold me for being inefficient and delaying his meal. Whenever that happened, Chloe would put down her book and walk over to defend me. “Ethan, stop scolding Maya. I’ve heard that people with a heavier body weight expend more energy doing things than slimmer people.” Ethan would look me up and down, then sigh heavily. It was from that night onward that his shoulder rubs became filled with resentment. “Why is your back so thick? Do you do anything all day besides eat?” “You’re as stiff as a rock. It annoys me just looking at you!” “Can’t you learn some yoga from Chloe? You’re only one year apart, but she looks like she could be your daughter!” So, the next day, I actually tried doing yoga with Chloe. Because I hadn’t worked out in so long, my limbs were incredibly stiff. But I still followed the video instructions and finished the routine. When I was done, I suddenly noticed Chloe sitting on the side, laughing. She had recorded my entire clumsy workout and posted it online, where netizens mercilessly mocked me, comparing me to a struggling pig. In reality, I wasn’t even that overweight. But the angles she used perfectly magnified all my flaws. That day, I exploded. I kicked her and her son out of the house. Ethan got into a massive screaming match with me, calling me petty and cruel. That was the very first time I seriously brought up divorce. In the end, he coaxed me back with our son and a cheap necklace. Thinking back on it now, I was so pathetic. This time, I would not compromise. When I opened my eyes to daylight, I caught the 8:00 AM train to the suburb where Ethan’s parents lived. 6 Out of everyone I had met in Ethan’s life, his parents were the most reasonable and principled. It was precisely because I had met them that I finally agreed to marry Ethan. Over our ten-year marriage, they had never once intruded on our lives, but whenever we needed help, they were there in a heartbeat. This time, I didn’t waste words. The moment I saw my mother-in-law, I stated my purpose. I didn’t come empty-handed. I showed them all the video clips I had silently recorded over the past few weeks. After watching everything, the two elders sat in front of me in complete silence for a long time. Tears welled up in my mother-in-law’s eyes. She looked at me and said, “Maya, our family has failed you. If you are determined to get a divorce, I support you. But are you truly willing to leave your child?” I placed the jade bracelet she had given me on my wedding day on the table in front of her. “The child looks down on me. And… I’m exhausted.” My mother-in-law picked up the bracelet and dialed Ethan’s number right in front of me. The moment it connected, Ethan’s frantic voice blasted through the speaker. “Mom! I was just about to call you! Is Maya with you?! I’ve been looking for her all night and I can’t find her anywhere!” My mother-in-law’s face was ice cold. “You know exactly what you did to drive such a wonderful wife away!” Ethan paused, then let out a long sigh of relief. “She must have contacted you, which means she’s there. Put her on the phone.” “In your dreams! You ungrateful bastard! Have you forgotten every piece of decency and morality I taught you? A married man tangling with another woman—you’re not just slapping your own face, you’re slapping mine and your father’s!” Ethan sounded exasperated. “Mom, I’m begging you, don’t just listen to her one-sided story, okay? I’m just taking care of Chloe like a brother would, there is absolutely nothing else going on. It’s Maya’s paranoid delusions.” My mother-in-law pointed a furious finger at him on the screen. “If you hadn’t left a trail of filth, what would she have to be paranoid about?! You are the root of the problem! Your father and I have been married for fifty years, why don’t I ever have paranoid delusions?!” A heavy sigh echoed from the other end. “Mom, I can’t explain everything to you right now. Just tell Maya that what she did last night—instructing Leo to beat up another kid—was incredibly serious! Chloe’s son was beaten terribly, he’s currently in the hospital! “But, Chloe said she won’t hold it against Leo. She said he’s just a child and doesn’t know better. As long as he apologizes properly, she’ll let it go. “And guess what? Not only did Leo refuse to apologize, but he also cursed at me. Now he’s locked himself in his room, refusing to eat or go to school! “Compare the two of them! They’re both mothers! Chloe raised her son to be so well-behaved and polite. But Maya? She actually let her son beat someone up in public, completely humiliating his own father! “I’ve made up my mind. For this to be resolved, Maya must come back and personally take our son to apologize. Tell her to get her ass back here immediately!” My mother-in-law abruptly ended the FaceTime call. She blocked and deleted his number with a single tap. Moments later, Ethan’s call came through to my father-in-law’s phone. My father-in-law answered with a stony expression. His first words were: “Congratulations, you ungrateful wretch. Not only have you lost your wife, but you’ve also lost your mother. Neither of them recognizes you anymore.” “Dad, even you don’t believe me?” My father-in-law scoffed. “Regardless, I would never bring a single woman into my home to live. You are an absolute embarrassment to me.” “You can’t force a twisted melon to be sweet. If you’re still a man, respect the woman’s wishes and go finalize the divorce papers.” Ethan immediately retorted, “Divorce?! We have a child together, why would we divorce?!” My father-in-law frowned. “What, you want to keep eating from the bowl while staring at the pot? Have you no shame?!” With that, he also hung up the video call. Even though they both acted incredibly decisive, they were ultimately his biological parents. After a long pause, my mother-in-law asked me, “Child, if Ethan and that woman truly are innocent, would you be willing to give him one more chance?” I stared at the desperate hope in her eyes and remained silent for a long, long time. 7 Having barely slept for two days, I fell asleep sitting in a chair for two hours. I was jolted awake by an excruciating pain in my stiff neck—it hurt so much I could hear my own heartbeat. Just as I thought I was going to pass out from the pain, a bucket of ice-cold water was dumped over my head, snapping me wide awake. Clutching my neck, I sat up and saw my son’s mischievous, victorious face. “Sleeping in the middle of the day! Mommy is a huge, lazy pig!” Some people’s cruelty is innate. I suspected my son was exactly that kind of person. No matter how many times I taught him manners and politeness, he would pretend to listen and then do whatever he wanted behind my back. After Chloe appeared, he became even more brazen. At this moment, he jumped in front of me, hands on his hips. “Prisoner Maya, I’m warning you! If you don’t start doing your chores properly, I’m voting for Aunt Chloe! I won’t let you be my mommy anymore!” “Hehe, scared now, aren’t you? Let me tell you, you have a rival! Your rival is much prettier than you! You need to reflect on yourself, dress prettier, so Daddy won’t like Toby instead!” He seemed to blame Ethan’s fondness for Toby entirely on my inability to keep a man’s attention. I had never taught him these things. His cruelty truly was a natural talent. I turned my head to look outside the door. Ethan stood there coldly, watching me get drenched, looking at me as if I were a criminal. My mother-in-law happened to come downstairs, saw the scene, and rushed over with a towel to dry my face. She then ushered Leo away, telling Ethan and me to have a proper talk. I had no desire to talk to Ethan, so I walked straight outside. He followed silently behind me. After walking for a while, we reached a small, quiet riverbank. Once there was no one around, he finally spoke. “I have never met anyone as malicious as you.” I stopped in my tracks. His tone was like a judge delivering a harsh verdict: “Yesterday was Chloe’s birthday. She felt a party would be too loud, so she invited me to a nice steakhouse. Without asking a single question, you acted on your own paranoid delusions and let Leo publicly scream at her, calling her a homewrecker.” “Now she’s lost her job, her son is injured, and she hasn’t slept all night. Are you happy now?” I couldn’t help but let out a bitter laugh. “So what? You feel guilty?” Meeting my intense gaze, his eyes darted away. “I feel guilty for you!” “I’ve thought it over. We are the ones who wronged her. So, until she finds a new job, her living expenses will be covered by you as an apology.” “I know you don’t have any money, so I will pay for it!” I was sick of listening to him. I waved my hand dismissively. “We split our marital assets fifty-fifty, and we get a divorce. As for how you spend your money after that, do whatever you want. Right now, don’t even think about it.” His eyes widened in shock. Then, he shook his head and took a step back. “Even now, you still want a divorce? Maya, you are being completely unreasonable. I know I’m innocent! I won’t entertain this nonsense with you!” I don’t know why, but his voice suddenly sounded further and further away. I could only see his lips moving incessantly. Then, my body uncontrollably tilted to the side. In that instant, the furious tension in his face vanished, replaced by sheer panic, as he desperately lunged toward me.

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  • The Spilled Milk

    Since I was a child, I was groomed to be the perfect daughter-in-law for the Vance family. At twenty, I married Carter Vance. At twenty-four, I gave birth to our son, Liam. Liam was exactly like Carter: always quiet, a man of few words, and never very affectionate with me. Every night, before they went to bed, I would bring both father and son a cup of hot milk. But one day, Carter accidentally knocked his cup over, and Liam secretly poured his down the drain. A sudden wave of exhaustion washed over me. When I handed the divorce papers to Carter. He furrowed his brow, looking annoyed, and asked, “Just because of that?” “Yes. Just because of that.” 01 “What about our son? “What are you going to do about Liam?” Carter quickly regained his usual emotionless demeanor, asking me as if this were just another business transaction. I sat across from him, feeling more like a client at his negotiating table, and said calmly, “I’ll give up custody of him. “I’ll also transfer the deed to the estate in the Hamptons into his name. Consider it child support and compensation.” After all, the child’s last name was Vance. He and Carter looked much more like a real family than he and I ever did. Carter looked down at me, his eyes betraying very little emotion, as if he couldn’t understand what I was making a fuss about. “Maya,” he softened his tone. “If you’re still upset about the milk last night, I apologize. You know I was drunk. I didn’t mean to do that to you.” He explained it away with practiced patience, still completely convinced that this was all about a cup of milk. Last night, Carter came home very late from a business dinner. I had waited up for him half the night, and only woke up when the blast of cold air from him opening the front door hit me. I got up from the sofa. Seeing him grimacing and rubbing his temples while taking off his coat, I immediately went to the kitchen and brought him the milk I had been keeping warm. Normally, even if our marriage wasn’t exactly passionate, we at least kept up appearances. But last night, I asked one question too many: “Did you meet someone? That perfume smells familiar.” Carter suddenly let go of the glass I was handing him. Before I could react, the glass slipped from our touching fingers and shattered loudly against the floor, shattering the quiet warmth of the room. Carter’s face went ice-cold, an aura of pure irritation radiating from him. He glared at me and warned, “Maya, you’re crossing a line. “From now on, don’t wait up for me, and don’t bother making me milk anymore.” And my son, Liam, after seeing his father’s reaction, secretly poured his own milk down the drain. When I caught him, he stood in the doorway and apologized to me with the exact same emotionless expression: “I’m sorry, Mom. If Dad isn’t drinking it, I don’t want it either.” To the two of them, it was probably just a trivial, insignificant incident. I was overreacting. I shouldn’t have made such a big deal out of it. 02 I didn’t bother offering any further explanations. I signed the papers and retained a lawyer. I chose to end my marriage with Carter Vance. Carter flatly listed off numerous details regarding the division of assets. I didn’t really listen, and I didn’t care. I went back to our bedroom to pack my things. He looked down at me, studying me. “Maya, the paperwork will take time to process. You don’t have to rush to move out. You can keep this penthouse.” I looked at the man who was still as steady and cold as ever. I calmly replied using words he had once said to me: “It’s better to make a clean break, so there are no lingering attachments or unresolved issues.” Carter didn’t say anything else. I never thought packing my bags would be such an overwhelming task. The house was filled with trivial little things, every single one of them painstakingly arranged by my own hands. I took one last look around, finally deciding to just keep it simple, and dragged my suitcase toward the door. Carter stopped me. “Where are you going? “To your parents’ house? “I’ll have the driver take you.” “No need,” I declined, telling him, “Just remember to have the housekeeper clear out the rest of my things tomorrow. I won’t be dealing with them.” It’s not like their family was short on people to do the manual labor anyway. As I stepped out the front door, I paused and thought for a moment. I turned back and looked at Liam, who had been standing behind Carter this whole time, expressionless. I told him, “I won’t be picking you up from prep school anymore, but remember not to go with strangers.” I considered it providing closure for myself. After saying that, I turned and left. I didn’t take another look at the child I had held in my arms and patiently rocked through countless sleepless nights when he was crying during his weaning phase. 03 I bought a plane ticket out of New York. I randomly picked a city down South. Savannah, Georgia. From the moment I was told at fourteen that I would be marrying into the Vance family, my freedom and choices had been restricted. After I married Carter, apart from attending mandatory social galas, he never once suggested taking me out anywhere. My most common routine was waiting for my husband and son to come home every night and bringing them a cup of warm milk before bed. Everyone in our social circle said that Mrs. Vance Sr. had raised me perfectly. I was practically tailor-made to be Carter’s wife. I matched his social status, and I took immaculate care of his daily life. My only flaw was: I was too perfect. So perfect that I was boring. I seemed rigid and lifeless. I once overheard Carter’s friends teasing him. “Carter, man, what’s it like living like an old married couple when you’re still so young? “Your wife is way too boring. Even her smile looks fake. “Do you want the guys to introduce you to someone a bit more fun? “Just a few days ago, Dave met this hilarious girl. Super funny. Exactly like Chloe back in the day. What do you say, interested?” Chloe. Carter’s first love. Back then, when Mrs. Vance Sr. disapproved of their relationship, Carter fought her tooth and nail. I don’t know what happened later. They broke up, and Chloe moved all the way to London. Shortly after that, when he was twenty, Carter suddenly accepted the Vance family’s arrangement and took the initiative to propose to me. Four years later, I gave birth to Liam. Oh, right. I remember now. That familiar perfume I smelled last night was the one Chloe always used to wear. A custom blend of gardenia. 04 After finding a place to stay in Savannah. I wandered around to many different places. The Southern drizzle, the hazy, historic cobblestone streets—I delighted in every bit of it. I never expected that early on my third morning, I would suddenly receive a call from Carter. He sounded like he had just woken up, asking me in a raspy voice, “Maya, where did you put those ruby cufflinks I bought at the charity auction last year?” I paused for a second. “In the second drawer of the walk-in closet.” I asked him, “What’s the occasion?” Carter: “A ribbon-cutting ceremony for the new commercial center.” Me: “The matching suit is the fourth one in the second row.” Carter still didn’t seem fully awake. I could hear the rustling of him searching on the other end of the line, along with a few muttered complaints. I listened for a moment before asking him, “Did you find them?” The voice on the other end stopped, as if he had finally realized what was happening. “I found them. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to bother you.” I said “Mm” and told him, “I know.” I advised him, “Have the housekeeper reorganize your closet for you. If you can’t find something again, you can ask them. “From now on, don’t call and bother me anymore.” Carter was silent for a moment before saying, “Okay.” After hanging up, I blocked his number and went back to sleep. But this time, I couldn’t sleep peacefully no matter what. I had a series of bizarre, disjointed dreams. I dreamed of laughing and playing with my classmates on the middle school campus when I was fourteen. I dreamed of the sunny day I first met Carter when I was fifteen. I dreamed of sneaking out to a drag race when I was sixteen, only to be dragged back by my dad and beaten until my legs ached. And… Another piercing ringtone. I jolted awake from the dream, irritated as I blindly reached for my phone on the nightstand. It was an unknown number. I answered it, and a polite voice inquired, “Hello, is this Liam’s mother? “I’m Liam’s teacher from his prep school. It’s like this: today the school is hosting a robotics exhibition, and Liam is participating. But he didn’t bring his project. He said his mother was preparing it for him. Would it be possible for you to bring it over for him?” The teacher was very enthusiastic. My fingers tightened around my phone. I closed my eyes, feeling an indescribable wave of exhaustion. Not long ago, I was sitting in the living room, meticulously following video tutorials frame by frame to build that robotics project for Liam. But because I left so abruptly that day, the robot was still half-finished. I looked out the window at the blazing sun and softly replied to the teacher, “I’m sorry, but I no longer have custody of Liam, and I won’t be managing his affairs anymore. “Also… is he right next to you right now?” “Ah.” The teacher sounded quite embarrassed. “Yes, yes, Liam is right here beside me.” I sighed. “Then could you please put me on speakerphone?” “O-okay.” “Thank you.” There was a rustling sound as the phone was shifted, followed by silence. I figured Liam could hear me. I spoke softly, “Liam, the robot is in the toy bin in your room. “You can call your dad to bring it to you, or you can have anyone else bring it. But from now on, I hope you won’t call me anymore. I won’t be picking you up, and I won’t be helping you with your projects. You know I’m not your mother anymore.” After finishing, I apologized to the teacher one more time and hung up the phone. 05 Saying those words to the child I almost died giving birth to still broke my heart. I couldn’t even remember when Liam started becoming more and more like Carter. My marriage to Carter was an arranged union established very early on. When I was fourteen, my grandfather and father walked out of the study with the elders of the Vance family, all beaming with smiles. From then on, I was groomed by the Vance family to be their daughter-in-law. In high school, many of my classmates envied my wealthy background. I never argued, I could only smile bitterly. I had a privileged life, but I had absolutely no freedom. When I didn’t do well on an important exam. In the middle of the night, my mom got so angry, feeling that I had humiliated her, that she burst into my room, yanked me up, and slapped me across the face. In high school, when I had a rebellious phase and started dating a boy, my dad delivered the second slap. He warned me that if I didn’t want to marry into the Vance family, I could only marry those businessmen who were nearly twenty years older than me. The first time I met Carter, I was fifteen. It was an arrangement made by our two families. Carter back then was different from how he is now. He was a boy who loved to laugh and wore his emotions on his sleeve. My impression of him wasn’t deep. I only remember a white button-down shirt under a blue sky, and a pair of incredibly expressive eyes. Later, I heard he was in a cold war with his family over his first love. I admired and envied him. At least he dared to rebel. He had the right to resist. But not long after, Mrs. Vance Sr. came to visit our house. With an elegant yet apologetic smile on her face, she held my mother’s hand and told her, “Don’t worry, the situation with Carter has already been resolved.” I hid by the door, listening, my heart sinking. I thought to myself, I knew it. After that, our families constantly arranged for Carter and me to meet. At first, he was quite resistant and never gave me the time of day. Later, he slowly accepted it, and occasionally he would say a few words to me. I watched as that prickly, rebellious boy gradually became silent and withdrawn, suppressing all his emotions. And the custom gardenia perfume he used to wear also vanished into the air as time passed. 06 It wasn’t until I was twenty and Carter was twenty-four. While we were on our way to a gala in another city, we were caught in a sudden mudslide and trapped in our car. Carter and I were buried together for a full day and night. When rescue finally arrived, my last memory was of his arm—which had been shielding my body—pierced and mangled by the crushed frame of the car. After he woke up, he proposed to me. In front of both my family and the Vance family, he asked me, “Maya, will you be my wife?” At that time, I looked at his arm, heavily wrapped in white bandages. I remembered when we were trapped in the car, how he anxiously called my name and told me, “Maya, don’t fall asleep. “If you fall asleep now, you’ll really lose your freedom forever!” Like I was possessed, I placed my hand over his. And in doing so, I ignored his lowered eyes—calm and lifeless, like he was merely completing a mandatory ritual. And so, we got married. Four years later, just as everyone wanted, we had a child. From the moment Liam was born, he was showered with love and adoration from both families. Mrs. Vance Sr. believed he needed the same elite upbringing as Carter. So, when he poured out that cup of milk, he did exactly what his father did. He used the most innocent face to say sorry to me, while doing what he believed was his absolute right. 07 I don’t know what that father and son were actually thinking. Less than a week later. I received another call from Carter. He used a different number. Because I had blocked him. Dragging things out like this didn’t seem like something Carter would do. After I answered the call, the line went dead silent for a few seconds. Just as I was feeling baffled and about to hang up. Carter’s voice came through. “Maya.” He called my name. “Your parents said you didn’t go home. Where did you go? Are you in Savannah?” He was investigating me. I knew he had the resources to do that. But I felt an unspeakable anger boiling inside me. During our long, nine-year marriage, he was cold, he was distant. He acted like a transient guest living under the same roof as me. Now, in just half a month, he had called me more times than he had in the entire past year combined. Before, when I would text him: [Are you coming home for dinner tonight?] [Are you in a meeting?] [Does your stomach hurt? Should I bring you some porridge?] He would reply with, at most: [Yeah.] The rest was just a wall of my own green text bubbles. Now, he was acting like nothing had ever happened. He asked me over the phone, his voice hoarse, “Maya, I had a business dinner today and drank too much. My stomach is killing me. Where did you put my medication in the house? “Also, Liam caught a cold from a classmate at prep school. He’s running a fever of 100 degrees and keeps crying that he feels awful. What did you usually do to make him feel better?” I was beyond angry. I suppressed my fury, trying not to sound like a hysterical lunatic, and told him word by word, “Carter, we are divorced. “I am no longer your wife, and I am not your maid. “Whether your stomach hurts or not, whether you can find your medication or not, none of that is my business. And with one phone call, you have plenty of people who would gladly buy you medicine. “If the child is sick, talking to me is useless. I’m not a doctor, and I’ve never seen a father who, at a time like this, still has to ask the mother what to do. “I don’t know what you’re trying to do. Maybe it’s bruised ego, maybe you’re just used to me taking care of you. “But Carter, I don’t want to make this ugly. We are over. Don’t ever disrupt my life again, do you understand?” After saying all that, I hung up the phone completely. I popped open the back of my phone, took out the SIM card, and threw it in the trash. 08 In today’s society, everything is tied to your phone number. I didn’t expect Carter and Liam to call me every few days. Naturally, I didn’t flatter myself into thinking Carter still had feelings for me. It was just that I had taken care of them for so long; it’s hard to break a habit instantly. I got a new SIM card and withdrew some cash. I signed up for a scientific expedition tour group and followed them on a trip through the rugged outback of the Pacific Northwest. It was a project I had seen online a long time ago. When I brought it up back then, Carter said he didn’t have time. His “friends” in our social circle had laughed and said, “That’s way too shabby. “Maya, with Carter’s status, going on such a cheap tour group would be incredibly embarrassing.” I just smiled and didn’t say anything else. At the time, I thought it was just a passing whim. The Vance family would never allow me to be so reckless and wild. I never thought that now, it would be so incredibly easy. When a shackle is broken, a bound person will start struggling from the very depths of their soul. 09 The day I headed out with the expedition team. The sky was crystal clear. We traveled by train. The train rocked back and forth for the entire journey. Every time I sank deep into that exhausting, suffocating dream, I would be slowly rocked awake. The dawn broke, piercing through the chaotic haze. The expedition took us through the Cascade Loop and down to the high deserts of Oregon. From Seattle, we went to the Olympic Peninsula, passed through the Columbia River Gorge, and stopped at the Painted Hills and Smith Rock. Mount Hood rose sharply from the forested horizon, and Crater Lake was serene under the night sky. Traveling through the high desert, crossing the passes, we saw endless miles of colorful, rugged terrain. The expedition team was primarily made up of geologists. They looked like people who weren’t good with words, yet they could talk endlessly about a pile of dirt, a blade of grass, an unknown wildflower. Sometimes humorous, sometimes witty. They filled the vast, sparsely populated Northwest with a profound, vibrant life force. Undeniably, my privileged background and those years of being groomed by the Vance family had allowed me to see many things other people never got to experience. Before, in my understanding, traveling was something that could only be enjoyable if done with family. But now, hiking through badlands and camping in the desert. Eating burnt barbecue, covered in dust and sand, I saw stars brighter than I had ever seen in my life. I knew Carter was probably still trying to track my itinerary, but that didn’t matter anymore. Later, after the Northwest loop ended, I exchanged contact info with these new friends. After resting in the city for a few days. We set out again to hike the Rockies. The moment we reached the summit of a challenging peak. I suffered severe altitude sickness. My breathing was rapid, and my head felt like it was splitting open. I almost thought I was going to die on that towering mountain range. But in the distance, the sun bathed the snow-capped peaks in gold, and everyone at the summit was cheering. In that passionate, chaotic atmosphere, I burst into loud, unrestrained sobs. The team scrambled frantically to give me oxygen and feed me high-sugar drinks. Thinking I was crying because I was in so much pain, they rushed to comfort me. “Oh man, don’t cry girl. You’re okay, you’re okay. Your blood oxygen is coming back up. Don’t be scared, we’ve got you. You’re not gonna die!” “Yeah, kiddo, you’re so young, you’re definitely fine. You’ve got a long road ahead of you. This is nothing!” I sobbed uncontrollably, but eventually, their thick Midwest accents and clumsy comforting made me break into a smile through my tears. With their help, I stood up from the snow, facing the golden sunlit peaks in the distance, facing my new life. No matter how many shackles there were, no matter how hard the journey. I could still reach the summit on my own, couldn’t I? 10 After returning, I picked up some of my old hobbies. Like extreme sports. Like auto racing. Like getting a dog I actually liked. Before I was engaged to Carter, I actually had a very carefree and lively personality. I loved everything that was full of life. But later, I didn’t even have my own freedom. How could I talk about loving anything? I got a mixed-breed Maltipoo. I named her Bella. She had a coat of soft, caramel-colored fur and innocent, big eyes. Every time she ran, her ears flopped up and down like a little propane tank. Puppies are easier to get along with than people. Puppies also understand your needs better than people do. A puppy will never give you the cold shoulder. A puppy knows you love her, and she loves you back. And the next time I saw Carter. It was at the door of my new house. I was just about to take Bella out for a walk. When I pushed open the door, I saw Carter standing by the elevator. And by his side, he was holding the hand of Liam, who was nervously staring at Bella in my arms.

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