As a polyglot fluent in eight languages, my decision to quit and become a tour guide delighted everyone at the translation agency—except Selena, the orphaned “genius” senior translator. She clung to my arm, pleading desperately. “Maria, even after you’ve ruined chances with international firms and damaged the agency’s name, I salvaged things and begged for you. This is your home—I won’t let you leave!” I shook her off coldly and walked next door to apply as a tour guide. In my past life, she was celebrated as a brilliant, self-taught translator who mastered eight languages and flawlessly translated specialized terms across fields. While I pored over idioms and polished exhibition scripts, she could recite them perfectly after one glance. During live interpretation, she’d speak the exact phrase I was still refining in my mind. Refusing to be outdone, I spent five days crafting a concise, elegant, and politically nuanced translation of a leader’s speech. But when I delivered it to the Ministry of Foreign Affairs, Selena had already submitted an identical draft—and secured the role of exclusive translator. She rose to fame as the “genius translator,” while I was branded a fraud riding on my father’s reputation. Before I could uncover the truth, I was killed by one of Selena’s fanatical followers. When I opened my eyes again, I had returned to the day Selena first rose to fame. 1 “Maria, the exhibition is about to start. Selena hasn’t prepared anything this time, so don’t accuse her of stealing your script again.” The sight of my colleague’s familiar face made my scalp prickle. I sprang up and retrieved my speech, which I had locked away in my cabinet. This was the day Selena, as the “genius” senior translator, first achieved fame, and it marked a critical turning point in my own declining reputation. Before this, Selena always managed to vocalize my speeches in advance, leaving me speechless and humiliated in front of everyone. Over time, I suspected she was secretly reading my scripts, so I always locked them away. Seeing the meticulously crafted speech, filled with specialized terminology I had painstakingly refined, I felt a sense of calm. Just then, Selena approached, her face wreathed in smiles. “This must be your speech for today, Maria. Can I glance at the beginning to admire it? After all, you’re so brilliant!” I forced a smile, clutching the script tightly, remembering the unsettling pattern from my previous life. Each time before I was due to speak, Selena would always take a quick look at the beginning of my script. Following this, the content she presented would inevitably be identical, leaving me unprepared and speechless before the crowd. “No, you can hear it live in a moment. I need to rush to host.” This time, I wouldn’t fall for her trick. I was convinced this had to be connected to her secretly viewing my script. As I stepped onto the stage, brimming with confidence, a voice beside me cut in—it was Selena! “Welcome, everyone, to the Pearl River Tech New Product Exhibition! It’s a pleasure to discuss our new products with you. We’ve also prepared an exciting Q&A and raffle session…” She slowly walked onto the stage, introducing me as an “early lucky audience member.” Then, she effortlessly engaged various international guests in different languages, even incorporating local dialects and slang, eliciting hearty laughter. My mind went blank. I had locked my script in a safe; no one but me should have seen it. Moreover, she hadn’t even seen my opening, yet she perfectly recounted my meticulously prepared flow and even the idiomatic conversations. I rushed off the stage, only to be confronted by colleagues who questioned me with undisguised disdain. “You copied Selena again! She told me about this outline ages ago. Good thing I heard your content yesterday and felt something was off, so I applied for her to be the host this morning!” “No, I conceptualized this half a month ago; she copied me!” They snatched my script, then looked at me with sarcastic eyes after reading the contents. “You always lock your scripts away, then you play the victim and accuse Selena. Is it because you’re jealous of an orphan who’s fluent in eight languages?” “I saw her outline too, and you didn’t change a single word. It’s absolutely shameful. You must be furious that Selena is being called a genius senior translator!” I offered proof of my conceptualization, only to be met with even more revulsion. Because the evidence I presented was identical to Selena’s outline, without a single alteration. A chill ran through me as I watched Selena, fluent and unscripted on stage, being hailed as a genius senior translator, the bitterness growing stronger. Selena finished hosting, showered with praise from veteran colleagues. Hearing that she had prepared it in such a short time only amplified their accolades, cementing her reputation as a rising star. It had happened the same way in my previous life. My face paled. Because this event was livestreamed, Selena gained a massive following, while I was deluged with endless mockery. “Selena’s colleague said she was just jealous and sabotaged things, even stealing her carefully crafted script. Luckily Selena was quick on her feet!” “I hate people who are incompetent and jealous at work. She should be fired from the agency, she doesn’t deserve to work with Selena!” A flood of insults crashed down on me. I was deeply unwilling to see my hard work become someone else’s triumph. Afterward, I diligently studied various languages, constantly practicing simultaneous interpretation, hoping to clear my name by participating in many livestreams. But each time, Selena would preemptively voice the translation I was about to say, leaving me awkwardly relegated to the background. Time and again, my livestream appearances were disastrous. I became the public benchmark for Selena, and in her fans’ eyes, a jealous shrew. Selena’s fanatical follower kidnapped me, forcing sulfuric acid down my throat. I was in agony, unable to scream, literally dismembered, my body left in a desolate area, staged as a suicide. Selena, feigning kindness, wrapped things up for her fan, claiming I had posted a suicide note before my death. Everyone blamed me for my restless demise. My father, utterly disappointed in me, then championed the remorseful, tearful Selena as the nation’s ace translator. Thankfully, now I’m back. I can uncover the truth and clear my name. 2 “An orphan, untaught, fluent in eight languages—that’s just too far-fetched. A script can be stolen, but live simultaneous interpretation for random international trade clients? That’s different!” My eyes brightened, and my frantic heart gradually calmed. Selena must have used some unknown means to steal my thoughts, I thought, gritting my teeth. The next day, Selena slowly approached me, a smile on her face. “Maria, today we’re translating for clients from different countries at random. You’ll have to guide me.” I raised my hand, using a notebook to block her approach, and a sudden realization struck me. This pen she gave me. Ever since then, my thoughts had nowhere to hide. Could she have tampered with it, and each time she looked at my opening, it was to verify if the content was real? I calmly put the pen down, and spoke coolly. “This time, I’ve decided not to highlight a single keyword. It’ll be a true test of simultaneous interpretation!” She froze for a moment, then resumed her smile, nodding in praise. My client soon arrived, speaking rapidly, interspersed with numerous specialized terms. I translated calmly. He praised my work, but before long, we encountered Selena and her client. “This is our booth, virtual reality is indispensable in today’s internet…” The client even used an idiom to compliment my intelligence. I smiled, about to translate, when I was interrupted. “This gentleman is asking his brilliant translator to introduce this booth. Virtual reality is indispensable in today’s internet…” Selena smiled, voicing every thought in my mind, even perfectly translating the specialized terms I had specifically learned. I stared, shocked. I hadn’t even used her pen to write down keywords, yet she still articulated my translation! I immediately composed myself, listening to the client opposite me rapidly explaining his ideas, only managing to grasp about eighty percent. I wanted to be faster than her. As soon as I had formed the sentence in my mind, she translated it identically. I was certain she was stealing my internal translations to achieve all of this. Because I had adopted my client’s speaking habits, and she immediately replicated them after just meeting him—that was clearly abnormal! Sure enough, my client was astonished. After that, as soon as I had refined a sentence, Selena would articulate my thoughts, word for word. It was too bizarre; my heart pounded, but I couldn’t stop it. The transaction was successfully completed, and even the observing colleagues live-streaming couldn’t help but applaud. “Selena, brilliant! Maria, you’re just a pretender! Intentionally trying to steal someone else’s commission!” “Without Selena, with how silent you were throughout, this deal would definitely have fallen through again!” I glared, just in time to see a barrage of insults in the comments. “How dare she zone out during such a big deal? Incompetent, yet she wants a commission—how shameless!” “Selena is truly a genius senior translator. This Maria is just riding her father’s coattails, workplace trash!” My question was filled with indignation and frustration. “No, what method did you use to even know my thoughts?” Selena, however, smiled, gently patted my shoulder, feigning distress. “Maria, I know you dislike me, but you took too long to think, and this concerns the agency’s reputation. If you want to scold me, go ahead…” “If you’re not convinced, let’s compare. Liam and I will randomly think of some dialogues, so you can’t accuse Selena of having pre-arranged communication to trick you!” I gritted my teeth and agreed, listening to the dialogues they presented as top interpreters in Portuguese and Korean. But as soon as I had finished conceptualizing, Selena preempted me, speaking it out loud and getting affirmation. I was incredulous. This was an impromptu setup, yet she still articulated exactly what I intended to say. My colleagues’ faces grew even more scornful, while Selena offered a faint smile, offering no explanation. “Ignore jealous, accusatory people! Selena, let’s go!” I stood alone, my heart heavy and confused, unable to fathom the reason why. It was too supernatural. Why was this happening? 3 From that day on, the agency increasingly favored Selena, while growing more neglectful and disdainful of me. My colleagues treated me as if I were invisible. My father even sought me out, his eyes filled with disappointment. “Stop doing embarrassing things that cause a public uproar online, saying I pulled strings for you!” “Dad, Selena is using despicable methods to steal my thoughts!” “I recommended you for this Ministry of Foreign Affairs submission. This is an absolutely fair competition; prepare well!” I locked myself at home, working for five days and nights straight, poring over dictionaries and idioms. I printed my draft half an hour before the deadline and delivered it to the Ministry of Foreign Affairs. I was convinced there would be no mistakes this time, but I didn’t notice the grim expressions of the Ministry staff. “We’re sorry, ma’am, we strongly oppose plagiarism. You’ve been disqualified.” My eyes widened, my body rigid. Immediately, my father slapped me hard, sending me sprawling to the ground. “If you can’t compete, you plagiarize! You’ve utterly disgraced me!” He held the leader’s speech I had just printed, his face livid, glaring at me. My eyes were red, and I kept shaking my head, snatching Selena’s other copy of the speech—it was identical to mine! Seeing Selena walk out, smiling, I couldn’t take it anymore. I rushed forward, shaking her, demanding angrily: “Tell me, what despicable methods did you use to steal my thoughts!” Selena’s fans at the door threw down their support signs, charging at me and pinning me to the ground, beating me. “How dare you accuse our Selena! She’s an exclusive translator, honest and upright! What are you?!” “Kill this thief! Can’t you see your own father is so mad he’s almost dead? He wishes he never had such a disgraceful, vile daughter!” I helplessly covered my head, watching my father comfort Selena, not even glancing at me. I gritted my teeth, stood up, forcefully pushed away the attacking fans, and, with blood on my face, stared intently at Selena. “There’s a key specialized term missing inside, and an extra error. Tell me what they are!” I had deliberately omitted a section, fearing a repeat of the tragedy. Selena couldn’t possibly know. My father, his face grim, turned back and slapped me hard, gripping my shoulder. “If you’ve lost your mind, go home. Stop causing trouble!” My face swollen, tears streaming, I realized my father knew the truth, yet he chose to shield Selena and frame me. Selena gently removed my father’s hand, looking at me with mockery and triumph as she slowly spoke. “The tonnage for the space station in aerospace technology was wrong; there’s only an extra error, no missing specialized term!” I fell to the ground weakly. She really knew everything, even avoiding my trap. The Ministry of Foreign Affairs staff carefully checked and confirmed her words. The agency director, arriving with a dark expression, glared at me. “Stop causing a scene. You’re ruining the agency’s reputation.” “Old O’Connor, your daughter has gone mad! Take her home immediately!” The fans continuously agreed, shouting for me to die. My father looked at me with an icy expression. I felt as though I’d been plunged into an ice cellar, unable to utter a single word in my defense. It wasn’t until I looked at the bracelet on my wrist that I suddenly understood. So, this was the truth! In the dead silence, a Ministry of Foreign Affairs staff member received a call, nodding respectfully again and again. “Selena, come with me! The Director of Translation Services specifically requested you to interpret at the China-Germany conference! If you perform well this time, your future will be limitless!” Hearing the latter half of the sentence, Selena’s eyes instantly lit up. But then she remembered a problem and asked hesitantly, “What if I mess it up?” “You can’t mess it up! This concerns the friendship between our two countries!” Selena’s face paled. She suddenly grabbed my sleeve, her grip tight: “Maria! If you sincerely apologize, I can talk to the Director and persuade him to let you stay on as my assistant!” I coldly shook off her hand, sneering: “I can’t be the assistant to a genius translator. Director, I’m resigning.” Selena, seeing me about to leave, grew frantic, almost blurting out the truth: “You can’t leave! If you leave, how can I translate for them?”

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Chapter 1 It took me three days and three nights, sifting through the putrid mess of a waste transfer station with my bare hands, to recover the billionaire’s treasured, limited-edition watch, worth millions. The billionaire, in a show of profound gratitude, immediately offered me a downtown apartment and a ten-million-dollar annual salary. But when my best friend, Summer, found out, she exploded. “Are you out of your mind? We might be poor, but we have our dignity.” “Accepting charity like that—how is that any different from a beggar?” In my past life, brainwashed by her insidious words, I not only rejected the billionaire but also swore never to accept any handouts. From then on, I turned down all internship opportunities from prestigious companies, ending up in odd jobs after graduation. Later, unable to pay rent, I begged her to take me in. Instead, she laughed and started a livestream. “Look, everyone, isn’t this my best friend, the one who rejected millions to uphold her dignity? Look how miserable her life is now.” The video went viral, turning me into a universally mocked, self-righteous clown. She climbed over my ruins, becoming an inspirational influencer championing modern female independence. On that rainy night, evicted by my landlord, I swallowed pills and ended my life. When I opened my eyes again, I was back at the moment I was about to return the watch. Chapter 2 Outside the waste transfer station, two men in dark suits blocked my path. “Ms. Lin, the watch… did you really find it?” I nodded, holding up the watch I’d just unearthed from the trash heap. Before I could speak, the billionaire in front of me, Mr. Fletcher, grew visibly emotional. “This was the last thing my mother left me before she passed. Ms. Lin, I truly thank you.” I handed him the watch, about to say, “You’re welcome.” Suddenly, my best friend, Summer, rushed forward and yanked me behind her. “Autumn! Are you insane?!” She glared at me. “Are you really going to give it to him? Have you no shame?” Those familiar words hit me like a lightning bolt. Only then did I realize I had been reborn. In my previous life, she had stopped me in the exact same way. But all I could think about was returning the item to its rightful owner. Besides, before I even started looking, I hadn’t expected any reward. I never truly bought into her “poor but righteous” nonsense, so I had returned the watch to Mr. Fletcher. I just hadn’t expected him to then offer me a downtown apartment and a ten-million-dollar annual salary. When Summer found out, she furiously accused me of selling my soul for money, shaming independent women of our era. Eventually, after her manipulative gaslighting, I rejected all the rewards. That very decision ultimately led to my death. Thinking of this, my anger flared. “Summer, what are you doing?” “I’m here to return what belongs to him.” Summer flinched, surprised by my defiance. She lifted her chin, her gaze fixed forward. “Return what belongs to him? Don’t make it sound so noble.” “We might be poor, but we don’t accept handouts!” She sighed, adopting a pained expression. “Autumn, I’m doing this for your own good.” “Don’t you know how much these rich people look down on us? If you’re so eager, they’ll just think you’re cheap.” Hearing this, Mr. Fletcher immediately grew agitated. “Young lady, Ms. Lin helped me recover my deceased mother’s keepsake. It’s only right for me to thank her. This is not charity.” Summer scoffed, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “Thanks? Frankly, isn’t it just about money?” “Autumn, you’re really good at giving them an easy out.” “You sifted through trash for three days, all for this paltry sum? Have you no integrity?” As she spoke, she reached for me again. I coldly swatted her hand away. “I know whether I have integrity. I don’t need you to teach me.” “Mr. Fletcher, please keep the watch safe.” Mr. Fletcher understood my meaning and immediately signaled his secretary with his eyes. The secretary understood. “Ms. Lin, this is Mr. Fletcher’s token of gratitude: the deed to a downtown apartment and an offer for a ten-million-dollar annual salary with our group.” Mr. Fletcher looked at me. “Ms. Lin, please accept it. Otherwise, I won’t feel at ease.” Summer’s eyes burned red when she saw the offer. She lunged forward, swatting away my outstretched hand. “Bribery! This is blatant bribery!” She pointed an accusing finger at Mr. Fletcher. “Do you think you can buy our dignity with a house and a job?” She then pointed at me. “Autumn, you’re hopeless.” “If you accept this, aren’t you admitting you’re a commodity with a price tag?” “How are you any different from those who sell their bodies for money?” Her eyes suddenly reddened, and she cried to our housemates, who had been drawn by the commotion. “Look, everyone, I’m trying to help her, and she’s talking to me like this.” “For money, she’s even throwing away years of our friendship.” Housemate A advised me, “Autumn, Summer means well. For us girls, our reputation is most important.” Housemate B echoed, “That’s right, acknowledging the gesture is enough. If you really accept it, how will others look at you?” I looked at them, a cold laugh escaping me. “If you feel it compromises your dignity, you’re welcome to never touch it.” Watching their synchronized performance, I found it absurd. I bent down and, under their stunned gazes, picked up the deed and the offer from the floor. “If you find it disgraceful, you can avoid it your entire life.” “Mr. Fletcher, thank you for your generosity. I’ll accept it.” Mr. Fletcher breathed a sigh of relief. “Glad to hear it. Glad to hear it.” Summer trembled with rage. “Fine, Autumn, you’re so righteous! You’re so clever! Don’t you dare regret this later!” Seeing I ignored her, she placed her hands on her hips and looked at Mr. Fletcher with disdain. “Her lack of integrity is her problem. I, Summer Davies, am different! What I despise most in this life are rich people like you, who think they can buy people with money!” With that, she turned and ran off. I paid her no mind, taking the offer, ready to go check out the apartment. But just as I reached the apartment building, Mr. Fletcher’s secretary called. “I’m very sorry, Ms. Lin, your move-in procedures might have to be temporarily postponed.” Chapter 3 My heart sank. “What happened?” The secretary’s voice was apologetic. “We received a report from building management saying your… identity is questionable, suspected of fraud. So your access card has been frozen.” Fraud? I immediately understood. This had to be Summer’s doing. I hung up the phone and turned to walk towards the management office. Sure enough, through the glass door, I saw her earnestly speaking to the property manager. Summer saw me and immediately feigned surprise. “Autumn, why are you here?” “I’m clarifying things with the manager. It must be a misunderstanding. Don’t worry.” The property manager sized me up, then said sternly: “Miss, Ms. Davies kindly informed us that the origin of your apartment is unclear.” “For the safety of other residents, we must verify this.” Summer seized the opportunity to grab my hand. “Autumn, let’s go. Don’t embarrass yourself here. Look, everyone’s staring at you.” I shook off her hand, staring at her hypocritical face. “Summer, what exactly do you want?” She immediately stepped back. “I don’t want anything. I just did what any good citizen should.” “I can’t just stand by and watch you get scammed and bring shame to our school.” Her voice was neither too loud nor too soft, just enough for everyone in the office to hear. “Think about it, who would just give a student a downtown apartment for no reason? There must be something fishy going on.” I couldn’t be bothered with her nonsense, so I directly called Mr. Fletcher. “Hello, Mr. Fletcher, this apartment you gave me… it’s not fake, is it?” “Now someone is accusing me of fraud, and the building management has frozen my access card.” “Of course not, Ms. Lin. Please don’t worry, I’ll be right there.” Summer’s face instantly paled, and she reached out to snatch my phone. But I simply shifted slightly and evaded her. Seeing she couldn’t grab it, she instead shouted at the property manager: “Did you hear that? They’re contacting him directly! If their relationship was clean, who would believe it?” The property manager’s gaze grew even more hesitant. I looked at her almost frantic demeanor, a cold laugh escaping me. “You’re trying so hard to prove there’s something wrong with me. Is it because you also desperately want this ‘problematic’ gift?” “You’re talking nonsense!” Summer’s voice immediately rose. “I’ve always viewed money as dirt; how could I want something so tainted?” “Look at yourself now. How are you any different from a kept woman?” “You’ve completely shamed all independent women of our new era!” She grew more animated, suddenly grabbing a wad of cash from her bag and throwing it at me. “You like money, don’t you? Is this enough? Stop debasing yourself!” Hearing those familiar words, my blood ran cold. In my previous life, I believed her lies, not only refusing my parents’ living allowance but also working three grueling jobs every day. Yet all my hard-earned money was taken by her under the pretense of “safekeeping, so you don’t spend it foolishly.” When I was finally destitute, unable to even pay rent, she actually told me it was a test. Truly strong women rise from hardship! Recalling my past foolishness, I now felt only disgust. Just as I was about to retort, a call from the school counselor came in. His tone was unpleasant. “Autumn Lin, where are you?” “How dare you fake your eligibility for financial aid!” “Get to my office immediately!” Chapter 4 Hearing that, my mind went blank. Financial aid was my entire hope for next semester; without it, I couldn’t even pay tuition. Summer saw me frozen in place and smiled triumphantly. “What, dumbfounded? What did I tell you? Karma’s here.” I had no time for her taunts and turned to rush back to school. All the way, she kept nagging in my ear: “Autumn, see, I told you there’s no such thing as a free lunch. Now look, the whole school knows.” In the counselor’s office, as soon as he saw me, he slapped a complaint letter on the table. “Autumn Lin, a student has formally reported that you live a lavish lifestyle, receiving large sums of money from various people by selling your body.” “How dare you still apply for poverty student aid?” Selling my body? I hadn’t even processed it when Summer immediately interjected, “Professor, I wrote that letter.” “I couldn’t just stand by and watch her go astray.” “Financial aid is so precious; it should go to truly principled students.” She then turned to me. “Autumn, I’m helping you too.” “Cutting off this dirty money is the only way you’ll find yourself again.” My fingertips trembled with rage. “Summer, you steal my hope and then claim it’s for my own good?” The counselor frowned, tapping the table hard twice. “Autumn Lin! Summer means well, what’s with your attitude?” “Tell me yourself, what’s going on with the downtown apartment and that ten-million-dollar annual job offer?” I took a deep breath, suppressing my inner fury, and fully explained everything about Mr. Fletcher. But the counselor clearly didn’t believe me. “Even if what you say is true, for a student to accept such valuable things—is that appropriate?” “Besides, this incident has already created a very negative impression among students.” Summer continued to fan the flames. “Exactly! Now the whole class knows, saying she’d do anything for money. Our dorm’s reputation is almost ruined because of her.” “I’ve always said that rich people’s things are toxic. You insisted on taking them. Now you regret it, but it’s too late.” It was happening again! In my previous life, she used the same tactics to control me, making me reject all prestigious internships, which led to me only finding odd jobs after graduation. Thinking of this, I stared coldly at her. “Summer, do you dare to confront me face-to-face? Let’s invite Mr. Fletcher here and clear everything up.” Summer’s eyes flickered, but she quickly straightened her back. “Confrontation it is. I’m upright, so I’m not afraid of shadows, unlike some people who have something to hide.” The counselor immediately waved his hand. “Nonsense! Bringing outsiders to school—what kind of decorum is that?!” I didn’t back down. “Professor, this concerns my reputation and my studies. I must clarify it.” Summer suddenly shouted, “Fine! You want to make a big deal out of it? Then let’s verify everything.” “Let’s see if your apartment and offer are real or fake. Don’t get fooled by fakes and treat them like treasure.” Her words were exactly what I wanted. “Good, it’s settled then.” “If the apartment and offer are all real, you will apologize to me in front of all the school’s teachers and students, and admit that you falsely accused me!” Chapter 5 “Alright, but if the apartment and offer are both fake, and you made it all up, then you’ll withdraw from school yourself and stop embarrassing the institution.” The counselor initially tried to stop us, but seeing our firm stances, he eventually agreed. He called in a few student representatives as witnesses and laid down the ground rules. “You’re the ones making a scene. Whatever happens, you deal with it. It has nothing to do with the school.” I didn’t waste any more time, dialing Mr. Fletcher’s number directly. “Mr. Fletcher, I apologize for disturbing you, but there’s a bit of trouble at school… I need your help to clarify something.” I briefly explained the situation. The phone went silent for a few seconds, then his deep voice came through: “I’ll be there right away.” Less than an hour later, Mr. Fletcher appeared with his secretary and lawyer. We arrived at the apartment building in a grand procession. Summer tidied her clothes and spoke to Mr. Fletcher, neither humble nor arrogant. “Mr. Fletcher, we just want to confirm if you would truly give such valuable things to a student with whom you have no significant relationship.” But Mr. Fletcher didn’t even look at her; he simply nodded towards his assistant. The assistant immediately produced copies of the deed and the offer, beginning to display them to everyone. “All documents have been notarized and are legally binding.” The counselor and student representatives gathered to examine them, their expressions slowly shifting from doubt to shock. “This… this is real?” A student representative’s voice trembled. Summer’s face was a little pale, but she still stood her ground. “Who knows if the documents are real or fake? If you’re so capable, then swipe the access card!” She pointed at the apartment door, her eyes fixed on me. I held the key, and under everyone’s gaze, walked towards the access panel. Honestly, I was a bit nervous, especially since it had been frozen before. If something went wrong now, I’d truly be unable to clear my name. I took a deep breath and placed the key card against the sensor. Beep— The green light flashed, and the door opened. I breathed a sigh of relief, about to turn and demand Summer’s apology. Suddenly, Summer burst into laughter. “Hahahaha, Autumn! Did you see that? The door opened. Everything is real.” She turned to the counselor and students. “Professor, students, you all saw it. I lost. Autumn wasn’t scammed. She really did climb a social ladder.” “She really would do anything for money.” Her words stunned everyone present. Summer took a few steps towards me and bowed deeply. “Autumn, I apologize.” “My mistake was underestimating your methods. My mistake was thinking you still had dignity.” “You weren’t tricked; you did this willingly.” I was bewildered by her barrage of accusations, completely unsure what she was trying to do. She had clearly lost, yet she acted as if she were the victor. Just as the surrounding students began to look at Summer with strange expressions, Mr. Fletcher frowned. But before he could take the employment contract from his assistant. Summer snatched the contract and handed it to me. My gaze followed her hand to the tiny print at the bottom of the contract. I collapsed to the ground, unable to utter a single word.

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1 My brother and I each had a twin wife. Our father had meticulously raised them to be ideal helpmates. The younger sister, Jasmine, was vivacious and charming, falling for my brother, James, at first sight. That left her elder sister, Lily, who was born with a disability, to me. I understood clearly that choosing Lily meant bowing out of the competition for our family’s inheritance. After all, a scion of a powerful family couldn’t possibly have a disabled wife. Yet, pity for her plight swayed me, and I agreed. My father, furious at my lack of ambition, banished me to a deserted island. I protected Lily there, and we endured three months. When we returned, she was completely unblemished, while I had three broken ribs and walked with a permanent limp. I considered her my wife and never held it against her. But then came the warehouse explosion. In that moment, Lily darted out of her wheelchair, practically flying. She said, “I’m sorry, James needs me.” James was my older brother. I tripped over a chair and fell, but she didn’t look back. “I’m sorry, but he’s the one I love.” Later, she saved her beloved. And I died in that inferno. When I opened my eyes again, I was back to the day we chose our wives. … I stared at the familiar scene, frozen and silent. Then, my brother, James, suddenly spoke. “Let Lily come with me. My younger brother has a severe stutter; he should choose someone more articulate to be by his side.” He extended his hand to Lily. But Jasmine, the younger sister, had already fallen head over heels for him, her delicate face tear-filled as she gazed at my brother. James had uttered the exact same words he had in my previous life. Last time, I believed he genuinely cared for my well-being. I also understood that Father had trained these sisters to help us manage the family business. Lily could only stand with crutches. How could the wife of a Thorne family heir be disabled? Seeing my brother willing to forgo his position for me, I was deeply touched and quickly refused, adamantly unwilling to let Jasmine go with me. But then came the explosion, and both women rushed towards James. James, in his feigned concern, insisted he wouldn’t leave without me. Yet he obediently allowed them to lead him safely away from the warehouse. Jasmine had already brought him to the entrance, but he feigned unconsciousness, prompting Lily to abandon all caution, stand from her wheelchair, and save him. From then on, he not only solidified his position as the heir… but also had two stunning women by his side. This time, I didn’t refuse his offer to swap wives. “Lis… listen to my… brother,” I stammered, mimicking my past speech impediment, my face earnest. James instinctively recoiled his outstretched hand, a hint of awkwardness on his face. Lily, too, looked at me in surprise. Just then, Mother descended from the second floor. “Sawyer, dear, the older sister is better at looking after people. Jasmine’s lively personality isn’t suited for you.” I looked at Lily, leaning on her crutches. Better at looking after people? Mother truly found any excuse to support my elder brother. “Besides, your elder brother is going to study abroad soon, and Jasmine’s grades are better; she can accompany him…” Lily, who had been standing quietly in the corner, suddenly took two steps forward. “Madam, I already received my acceptance letter last month.” With that, she actually produced the acceptance letter from my brother’s university. Lily spoke sincerely. “Madam, please don’t worry about my leg. I’ve already contacted a doctor, and I can have electronic neurons implanted in my calf. With consistent stimulation, I can walk normally.” Seeing Lily’s calm demeanor, I instantly understood. She had been reborn too. Since she had a second chance at life, it was only natural for her to fight for herself. I gave a self-deprecating smile. I laughed at my past self, who, to protect her pride, had shunned all formal gatherings. During those three months on the deserted island, I had repeatedly put myself in harm’s way for her. I had led wolf packs away from her. When she fell into a ravine, I had painstakingly carried her back up, step by arduous step. The slippery, sharp rocks had carved countless wounds into my body, yet she remained safe and sound on my back. And now, she was once again firmly choosing James. Mother’s face showed a flicker of admiration. “Are you truly willing to undergo electronic neuron implantation just to stand by James’s side? That’s more painful than walking on razor blades.” “I am willing.” James’s gaze toward Lily also held a fervent heat. While Jasmine was undeniably captivating, what could be more alluring than an excellent wife willing to sacrifice so much for him? “In that case, Jasmine will follow Sawyer from now on.” The moment the words left her mouth, tears instantly streamed from Jasmine’s eyes. “Madam, Jasmine isn’t worthy of the second young master.” Mother’s face turned cold. How could she not see what Jasmine was plotting? She remained silent, seemingly pondering something. Jasmine suddenly knelt before Mother. “Madam, Jasmine is willing to stay in the old estate as a housekeeper.” Mother finally lowered her gaze to her. “You’d rather be a housekeeper than the second young madam?” “Yes.” These sisters, both of them were quite decisive. James spoke, seemingly unintentionally. “Jasmine, are you perhaps looking down on my brother’s stutter?” Jasmine quickly glanced at him, her tone tinged with girlish indignation. “First young master, don’t you know why I’m doing this?!” As she spoke, her tears flowed even more profusely. James showed a pained expression. “But being a housekeeper would be too much of a sacrifice for you. How can that be?” I watched the absurd scene in silence. “If you… truly… care for… Jasmine, why not… let her… be your… assistant?” I stammered out the sentence. James patiently listened to me finish, his gaze at Jasmine holding a hint of greed. Both women, in terms of looks, figure, and intellect, were exceptional. “This… wouldn’t be appropriate.” Mother turned to look at me. “You should know they were both raised to assist you. Are you truly choosing neither?” Mother was testing me. I gave a light laugh. “Neither.” Mother raised an eyebrow. “Don’t be impulsive. I fear you’ll regret it.” “No regrets.” This time my answer was too quick, and everyone in the room looked at me simultaneously. Especially Lily. From the moment I spoke, her gaze hadn’t left me. Her brows were tightly furrowed, as if she was trying to understand why I had changed so much. Mother spoke again. “Then will you have a suitable translator by your side when you go abroad?” I slowly shook my head. “Not going abroad. Going to the company.” Last time, I believed my parents’ affection, and that my brother and I would always be close. I thought the inheritance rightfully belonged to my brother. So, I immersed myself in my own little world, making Lily the center of my life. Even when Grandfather urged me repeatedly to join the company, I refused. Eventually, I made Grandfather fall ill with frustration. This time, I wouldn’t make that mistake. Grandfather, though old, was still the de facto controller of the group. My parents had no business acumen, which was why they had invested heavily in training the twin sisters. They feared we would inherit their own lack of business sense. In my previous life, after Grandfather’s death, James took control of the Thorne family. Eventually, even my living expenses and Lily’s required James’s signature before his secretary would transfer them to me. Though equally a Thorne, I was treated like a beggar. This time, I would reclaim everything that was mine. When I approached Grandfather and explained my intentions, he patted my shoulder, visibly excited. “You rascal, I always had high hopes for you since you were a boy. Who knew such things would happen later…” “Never mind, let’s not talk about it. From now on, work hard with your grandfather.” “Yes.” Grandfather suggested I start as a manager, but I refused. I chose an entry-level position, starting from the ground up. James was preparing for his trip abroad, and the house was filled with joy. Meanwhile, I secured my first project, advancing from a regular employee to a team leader. Grandfather was overjoyed, praising me to everyone he met. One day, as I was leaving work, James blocked my path at the entrance. “Little brother, you’ve been on a roll lately, haven’t you?” “Now everyone’s saying you can inherit the family business on your own merits. You didn’t want the twin sisters because you’d already planned to cozy up to Grandfather, hadn’t you? When did you become so cunning?” “Tell me, as a Thorne child, who do you think Grandfather would prefer: you, a stuttering college graduate, or me, who’s returned from advanced studies abroad?” I never expected James to use my stutter to provoke me. I lowered my gaze, not wanting to talk to him. Unexpectedly, he shifted, blocking my way. “Little brother, since your stutter is so severe, you should just stay home and recover properly. Why go out and embarrass the Thorne family?” I met his gaze directly. “Why do I stutter, brother? Have you forgotten?” He flinched, looking at me in shock. When I was little, Grandfather often kept me by his side, saying I was the Thorne family’s future hope. Back then, my parents were very kind to me. But one day, James tricked me into a small wooden cabin in the backyard garden. He said he was going to the restroom and told me to wait for him. Instead, he locked me inside. I was trapped from that afternoon until the evening of the next day. Police dogs finally found me. When the door opened, Father’s expression showed a hint of disgust. After that night, I was so terrified I lost control of my bladder and bowels, cried all night, and couldn’t utter a sound. For several years afterward, I couldn’t speak a single word. James, however, claimed I had wandered off playing. Later, Grandfather found many doctors for me, allowing me to speak again, but leaving me with a stutter. James clearly remembered his past actions. His face instantly paled, and he stammered. “Wasn’t that because you were playing around and got lost? All these years, you still blame me for not finding you sooner, right?” “But I was just a child then too; I was scared. You can’t blame everything on me.” Seeing his pale face, Lily’s brows furrowed in concern. “Second Young Master, whatever happened when you were children is in the past. One shouldn’t harbor resentment.” At this point, James suddenly grasped her hand. “It’s alright. I’m the older brother; it’s my place to concede to my younger brother.” “If you’re fighting for the inheritance because of what happened back then, I’ll just give it to you.” Just then, Father returned. “What nonsense are you talking about?!” “What are you two discussing?” James, afraid I would reveal what happened back then, quickly said. “Little brother is still blaming me for what happened back then, Dad. I don’t want our family to be divided, so why not let little brother—” Father interrupted James. “Sawyer, are you still blaming your brother, even resorting to underhanded tactics to fight for power behind his back?” I was so furious I couldn’t even keep up the stutter. “It was clearly—” “Actually, it was the Second Young Master who started the trouble. He’s always held a grudge about what happened back then.” I looked at Lily. After two lifetimes of knowing her, she should have understood me best. But I never expected her to lie to Father to protect James. Smack! I slapped Lily across the face, my palm stinging red. Lily stared at me in shock. “That’s your sister-in-law! You’re completely out of control now!” “Take the young master back to his room to reflect. He’ll be let out when he understands.” I trembled, looking at Father. Ever since that incident in my childhood, I couldn’t be confined alone in a room. It would trigger my panic. But the servant grabbed my shoulder, dragging me upstairs. As I passed James, I clearly saw a mocking smile on his face. Lily, meanwhile, avoided my gaze. That night, James brought Lily to my room. As soon as he entered, he turned off all the lights. My body reacted to the fear before my mind did. That night in my childhood had deeply affected me. My voice trembled uncontrollably. “Turn on the lights.” “Heh, is the big strong man afraid of the dark?” “You were quite bold downstairs just now, weren’t you?” I instinctively reached for the bedside lamp. Lily was quicker, sweeping the lamp to the floor. She kicked it under the bed, then took my phone, which was providing some light, and drew the curtains. The suffocating feeling instantly enveloped me. I tried hard to speak, but no sound escaped. I knew, I was having an episode again. I fumbled in the dark for the bedside table, searching for my medication. But the next second, James snatched the pill bottle away. “Want your pills, do you? Big brother will feed you.” With that, he emptied the pills onto the floor. I stumbled onto the floor, instinctively fumbling for them. But James stepped on my hand. “You can have your medicine, but first, give me the project you just secured.” I struggled to breathe, unable to speak, so I just patted his foot that was pressing on me. He shone his flashlight on my face. “You agree?” I nodded. Throughout this, Lily watched me with furrowed brows. Finally, when I agreed, she said, “You shouldn’t compete with him. These things rightfully belong to him.” I didn’t say a word. This project was one I had seen through from beginning to end. I also wanted to see if James could handle this unexpected windfall. James took over my project, and I moved out of the Thorne family mansion into my own small apartment. I began actively seeing a therapist. Such things would never happen a second time. Sure enough, a month later, the project imploded. The manager, furious that James had ruined his life’s work, took James hostage. He livestreamed on the dark web, threatening a murder-suicide. I scoffed. James had brought this upon himself. But I hadn’t expected Lily to be waiting at my apartment door. “That project was negotiated by you; you’re the principal in charge.” “Only you can save him.” She bluntly stated her purpose, and bodyguards hidden in the shadows swarmed me. I was bound and pushed into a car. My mind raced. Lily, beside me, said leisurely. “You’re back too, aren’t you?” I stared at her, my eyes icy cold. “After this is over, you go abroad. I can guarantee you a life of wealth.” I scoffed. “And what about what you owe me?” “If you can save James today, I’ll be at your disposal from now on.” Soon, we arrived at the warehouse. Finally, both sides reached an agreement: the company would cover all losses, reinstate the manager, and the project would continue. When the manager demanded a hostage, Lily pushed me out without hesitation. “I swear, this is the last time. I’ll settle everything and come back for you.” I sneered inwardly. I no longer believed her. Yet, her resolute betrayal still stung. “Lily, does anything I go through mean nothing to you?” She avoided my gaze. “I’m your sister-in-law.” I couldn’t help but laugh aloud. She took two steps away, then turned to look at me. “I will definitely come back. If anything happens to you, I’ll just pay with my life.” I didn’t look at her. The manager locked me in a sealed room. There were no windows; the only light source was the phone livestreaming. He dragged my nearly broken self in front of the camera. “It’s been a day already! Why hasn’t the company made any moves?!” “Do you think anyone is watching the livestream? If I torture you a bit, will they speed things up?” With that, he faced the camera and began pulling out my fingernails. In the dimly lit room, blood slowly seeped out. My screams, once high, dwindled to nothing. I was in too much pain to make a sound. A familiar ID suddenly popped up a line of text in the comments. [Hands $10,000, legs $30,000, other body parts negotiable.] [You just want money. No one will ransom him. You might as well trade him for some cash.] I fell into despair. In less than three days, I was tortured beyond recognition. On the third day, while the manager was out buying more tools to torment me, I tried to call the police on the livestream phone, only to find there was no SIM card. I had no choice but to return to the livestream. I pleaded with the screen again and again. “Lily, I know you’re watching. Save me.” “Please… for all the times I saved you, save me just once.” “You said you would definitely come back.” “Lily…” My voice grew hoarse. Finally, I saw Lily’s reply in the public chat. [He won’t take your life now. James will be inaugurated as CEO tomorrow. Just get through tomorrow, and I’ll come get you.] Inaugurated tomorrow… “Grandfather? Lily, what have you done to Grandfather?” [Grandfather is old.] After that, no matter how much I called her, she didn’t say another word. Just then, the manager returned. He kicked me in the head. “Damn it, trying to outsmart me.” A rain of blows landed on my body. The comments section cheered, but Lily remained silent. The next second, the manager ended the livestream. I lay on the ground, recalling Lily’s attitude. All my emotions transformed into pure hatred. The manager quickly helped me up. “Are you alright, sir?” The lights in the room were off; everything was pre-arranged for the right angles. Naturally, I was fine. I shook my head. I opened the door, looking at the warehouse. I wondered if Lily recognized it—the very warehouse where I had died in my previous life. It was also the stage I had chosen for this grand play. “Proceed as planned.” “After this, go to Europe. Don’t come back.” I pushed open the warehouse door. Behind me, with a thunderous roar, flames shot into the sky. From then on, the Thorne family’s second young master died in a fire. All debts, I would collect them, step by step.

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It had been three years since I started running a flower shop to support him, and he’d gone bankrupt again. The first time, I’d sold the house my grandmother left me, paying off seven hundred thousand. The second time, I’d dug out the savings account my mother had set aside as a nest egg for my future, settling a debt of one point six million. Now, with his third bankruptcy looming, I stared at his vacant, dry eyes, my fingers hovering over the number of my estranged, billionaire father. I hesitated, wondering if I should call. But that very evening, I stumbled upon a chat group on his tablet: “Mr. Davies, how much should we put down for the bankruptcy settlement this time?” “Make it ten million. Otherwise, the little flower seller will just pay it off in one go. Where’s the fun in that?” “You really know how to play, Mr. Davies. I hear the little flower seller nurtures flowers by day and nurtures you by night. Never gets old, does it?” I set the tablet down, picked up my phone, and dialed my billionaire father. “All you want is for me to inherit the family business and marry your protégé, right? Fine. I’ll do it.” “Send someone to pick me up in three days.” 01 Hanging up with my father, Louis Davies walked back in, a signed IOU in his hand. “Cathy, I’m so sorry. I owe another ten million this time. I’m useless.” His acting was flawless; the lost look in his eyes used to always elicit the same response from me: “It’s okay, we’ll work through this together. We’ll pay it off eventually.” But now, I just stared silently at the half-exposed watch on his wrist. It looked unassuming, but I’d seen it in a magazine. It was worth one hundred and sixty million. Louis Davies, with a watch worth one hundred and sixty million, couldn’t pay off a ten-million-dollar debt. And I, with nothing to my name, was considering taking out a loan for him. My sincerity had become the very fuel for his casual manipulation. Noticing my gaze on his watch, Louis, without a flicker of expression, pulled me into a hug. “It’s just a fake, Cathy. When I’m rich, I’ll buy you anything you want.” Knowing I was poor and didn’t recognize luxury brands, he didn’t even need to put much thought into his lies. I averted my eyes, only to see another message pop up on the tablet beside me. “Mr. Davies, what’s the little lady going to sell to pay off the debt this time? Flowers? Her house? Or… herself?” “The women Mr. Davies has played with must be quite something. If she’s selling herself, I’ll take her for a night!” The subsequent messages were a barrage of vulgarity and “+1s.” I’d been with Louis for three years, and I’d paid off his bankruptcy debts twice. The first time, I sold my grandmother’s house. Louis held me, promising to build a home with me. Yet, we lived in a cramped, four-hundred-dollar-a-month basement apartment for two years before he returned with another two-million-dollar IOU. I still didn’t blame him. Instead, I used the nest egg my mother had saved for me, patching up his financial hole. He knelt before me, saying that by accepting my pre-wedding gift, he was my husband, and he would love and cherish me forever. But his promises were lies, from beginning to end. Louis’s attention was also drawn by the incessant pings from his phone. He glanced at me, and seeing that I wasn’t watching him, he confidently opened his phone to scroll through the group chat. Soon, his brows furrowed, and his lips thinned into a line. He tapped a few times on the screen, and his message appeared on the tablet: “All of you, get lost! Just wait and watch the show!” Louis put his phone down. After a long silence, he wrapped his arms around me again, his voice thick with affection. “Cathy, I promise this is the last time. Once this debt is paid, I’ll marry you, okay?” I looked at the earnest expression on his face and suddenly found it incredibly laughable. How precious must I be, to have a wealthy young master go to such lengths to deceive me? Even going as far as to utter words like “marry you.” If at first, I’d wanted to lay everything bare and ask him if he found any of this amusing, Now, I didn’t even have the energy to question him. I calmly pushed him away. “But Louis, I’m out of money.” Louis froze, perhaps not expecting such a reaction from me. After all, in his mind, I should be desperate to find any means to pay off his debts. But quickly, his face twisted into anger. “Cathy, are you just like the others? Do you think I’m a failure? That I’ll never succeed?” “I knew it, I misjudged you!” With that, he stormed out, slamming the door behind him. I watched his retreating back, understanding that he was using this tactic to pressure me into submission. But I didn’t call out to him. Instead, I pulled out my phone and blocked all his contacts. Then I picked up the IOU. No borrower, no debtor’s fingerprint. It was an obvious fake, yet I’d foolishly fallen for it twice. I gave a self-deprecating laugh and dialed the agent. “Hello, please help me sublease the flower shop on Central Street!” The flower shop was opened to support Louis. Now that I was done with him, there was no need to keep it running. Anyway, I was leaving. 02 The next morning, I stayed home to pack. Looking around the small, dim rental, there was surprisingly little worth taking with me. Birthday cards tossed from a bakery, pretty stones picked up from the street, rings fashioned from crumpled paper… Louis had presented these as surprises. But each time I opened a ‘blind box,’ he looked just as surprised. Now, I realized these ‘gifts’ were probably just random items someone else had arranged for him, and he likely didn’t even know what was inside. The only somewhat decent gift was a necklace he’d bought for eighty dollars from a street vendor after his first successful venture. At the time, I thought he was wasting money and got quite upset with him. But Louis had just laughed, an amused look on his face. He said I was silly, wondering what would happen if he ever truly became wealthy and I still couldn’t bring myself to spend money. I thought he was being considerate then. Now, it seemed he truly thought I was an idiot. In our dense chat history, Louis had called me ‘silly’ a staggering 517 times. When I ran through three streets to buy him his favorite late-night snack, he’d say, “How can Cathy be so silly?” When he had a fever, and I draped my only raincoat over him, carrying him to the hospital on my back, he’d say, “She’s ridiculously silly.” Even when I lay in his arms, dreaming of a brighter future with him, he would still type in the group chat: “Cathy is hopelessly silly, so broke yet still fantasizing about a future with me…” Even in cold text, I could imagine the disdain and mockery in his tone as he wrote that. But it didn’t matter anymore. From now on, Louis Davies would have no place in Cathy Lord’s future. I continued packing, but in the end, my large suitcase remained empty. The trash can, however, was full. I surveyed the home I’d lived in for two years once more. The walls stained with watermarks, a chair with a broken leg, a bed made of bricks and planks… When things were a little better, I’d wanted to decorate this place properly. But Louis always refused. He said we wouldn’t live here once we had money, so decorating was pointless. I’d believed every one of his promises, then stayed in this dilapidated house, foolishly waiting for those promises to materialize. Thinking of all this, I suddenly felt a profound sense of futility. I closed my suitcase just as the agent called. “Miss Lord, I can’t finalize the flower shop sublease myself. You’ll need to speak with the landlord personally.” 03 At three in the afternoon, I arrived punctually at the appointed office building to meet the agent. Down the opulent hallway, through a slightly ajar door, I caught sight of Louis. He was dressed in a well-tailored suit, head bowed, fiddling with his phone. Beside him, a woman, elegantly dressed, leaned intimately against his shoulder. The moment I saw her, I recognized her. Two days ago, the flower shop received an order for nine hundred and ninety-nine roses. Because the customer specifically requested the thorns not be removed, I’d painstakingly wrapped every single one, my hands bleeding. When I personally took a cab to deliver them, the recipient was this woman: Tiffany Chase. At the heart of the bouquet was a small card, as requested by the customer: “To my lifelong love, Tiffany. From: L.D.” It was only then that I realized L.D. stood for Louis Davies. He knew perfectly well that I, desperate for money, wouldn’t turn down such a large order. So he deliberately made those demands, watching me scramble like a fool. The thought of it brought tears to my eyes, almost making me laugh. After returning home that day, I had even excitedly shared with Louis how much money I’d made. As he tenderly bandaged my wounds, was he, in his heart, calling me silly again? Viewing me as a joke? As I wiped away the tears, the agent arrived. Seeing me standing at the door, he asked, puzzled, “Miss Lord, the landlord is inside. Why don’t you go in?” My eyes, still tearful, widened in shock as I looked at the agent. “Who did you say? The landlord? Louis Davies?” The agent looked bewildered. “Yes, didn’t you know? The entire block on Central Street belongs to Mr. Davies.” 04 I gazed at Louis’s figure in the distance, and deeply buried painful memories surged. After helping Louis pay off his second debt, I went through a long period of financial hardship, unable even to afford rent. Four or five burly men crowded the flower shop entrance, demanding payment. They smashed all the flowers in the shop, Even stepping on my cat, letting it cry out in pain without easing their foot. The little cat had been with me for twelve years; to me, it wasn’t just a pet, but family, as important as Louis. I pleaded, in tears, on my knees, begging them to spare it. In the three years I’d run the shop, I’d faced countless demands for rent and protection fees. But I’d never mentioned any of it to Louis; I didn’t want to burden him. This time, however, I was truly terrified. I called him, sobbing so hard I could barely breathe. I asked him, “Louis, what do I do? Save Muffin, please save her…” Louis knew how much Muffin meant to me, yet after a long silence, he still said he was sorry. I watched, helpless, as those burly men crushed my cat to death. I held her, feeling her grow cold and stiff in my arms. It was the same powerlessness I felt when my mother died in my embrace. Yet even then, I never hated Louis. I only regretted my own helplessness. But now, the truth was laid bare before me: the landlord who demanded my rent was Louis. The one who could have saved Muffin with a single word was also Louis. But he didn’t save her, and Muffin died. I bit down hard on my teeth, barely suppressing a sob. I ran out of the office building, hailed a taxi, and told the driver to take me to the airport. In the car, my hands shaking, I called my father. After twenty-seven years, the only person I could rely on was the father I had once disavowed. “Dad, please, come pick me up now? Please…” … Meanwhile, Louis Davies, Tiffany Chase, and his friends emerged from the office. His head was bowed, his gaze fixed intently on our chat window. Two whole days, and I hadn’t sent him a single message. He felt a surge of irritation, pulled out a cigarette to light it, then put it back, remembering I disliked the smell of smoke on him. One of his good friends clapped him on the shoulder from behind, looking rather smugly at the dark screen. “What’s up, Louis? The little lady can’t pay this time? Not playing with you anymore?” A flicker of annoyance crossed Louis’s eyes as he pushed his friend’s arm away. “Who said that? Cathy loves me so much, she’s probably off somewhere right now scraping money together for me!” “Just you wait, after I give her a few days, she’ll cough up the money!” No sooner had the words left his mouth than the agent, who had overheard my name, came over. “Cathy Lord? Mr. Davies, you know Miss Lord? Perfect, she wants to sublease her flower shop, and I was worried you wouldn’t agree!” Louis frowned. He had a vague feeling that the unease accumulating in his heart these past few days was about to find an answer today. He tried to steady his emotions, feigning a casual tone. “The flower shop is doing so well, why would she sublease it?” The agent offered him a placating smile, completely unaware of the significance of his words. “Miss Lord said she’s tired of running the flower shop. She’s going home to get married.”

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To facilitate my dialysis treatments, I rented the most expensive, exclusive parking spot closest to the hospital. But my wife’s childhood friend always, on rainy days, with red-rimmed eyes, begged me to give him the spot, claiming his asthma meant he couldn’t get wet. I refused: “There’s a public parking lot nearby. It’s just a few extra steps. Why do you need to take mine?” When my wife found out, she was furious: “Can’t you be a little kinder? His asthma flared up; he nearly died on the road!” I didn’t understand: “He has a car, yet he chooses to get soaked in the rain just to take my spot. How is that my fault? Besides, it’s an exclusive spot; I paid for it, first come, first served.” My wife fell silent: “I’m sorry, I was too anxious.” For the next few months, she drove me to and from appointments, rain or shine. But on the day I suffered acute kidney failure and desperately needed emergency treatment, she drove me around for three hours, deliberately missing the crucial window for treatment. On the hospital’s large screen, she was seen embracing her childhood friend, a cold smile on her face: “Didn’t you say ‘first come, first served’? Now there are no beds available in the dialysis unit. I’d like to see how long your life has to wait in line.”

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I was reported by parents in a joint complaint, saying I assigned too much homework. So I simply canceled all homework and evening study sessions, strictly implementing “happy education.” When the monthly exam results came out, the parents exploded. They blocked the school gates, crying and begging me to restart the tutoring classes. I was called to the principal’s office before dawn had fully broken. The cold air of a winter morning cut across my face like a knife. “Miss Harper, take a look at this first.” Principal Anderson’s face was ashen as he pushed his phone toward me, his voice suppressing barely controlled fury. On the phone screen was the city’s most popular education forum. A bolded, red-highlighted post stabbed into my eyes. High School Teacher Forces Supplementary Classes, “Honors Class” Becomes “Student Torture Chamber” Followed by a red “TRENDING” badge. My heart sank sharply. The post’s content was an “anonymous” plea for help, eloquently written and highly inflammatory. “We’re not learning machines. We have flesh and blood too. We long for the sunlight outside the window and a moment to breathe. But here, all we have are endless ‘enrichment worksheets’ and our nights and weekends—time that should belong to us—ruthlessly taken away. Miss Harper says the SAT is a war, and we can rest after we win. But we haven’t even reached the battlefield yet, and we’re already collapsing in the darkness before dawn…” “We’re so tired. We want to cry. Watching students in other classes participate in club activities, reading books they enjoy during study hall—we’re so envious. It’s not that we don’t work hard. We just… don’t want to exhaust all our passion for the future in this suffocating ‘student torture chamber’…” The letter also included several maliciously edited audio recordings. My statement “Suffering a bit now gives you more choices in the future” was cut down to just the cold phrase “suffer a bit.” My encouragement “Once you cross the SAT hurdle, the world opens up—everyone just hang in there” was reduced to an impatient “cross it.” The image of a cold, obsessive “demon teacher” who only pursued grades and disregarded students’ lives leaped off the page. The comment section had completely exploded. 【Oh my God! Which school is this? Terrifying! Still doing this kind of cramming education!】 【Support the kids! Gen Z should speak up bravely! Someone expose this teacher!】 【’Honors Class’? More like ‘Hell Class’! Doesn’t the Department of Education care?】 【My heart breaks for these kids. Hugs. This teacher doesn’t deserve to educate anyone! Should be fired!】 【I’m from the class next door at this school, can confirm they study until after 10pm every day. So intense!】 【Need insider students to come forward! Let’s see how twisted this Miss Harper really is!】 【@CityDepartmentofEducation come do your job!】 … Holding the cold phone, a chill crept up from between my vertebrae. Not anger, but a tremendous sense of absurdity at being betrayed. Those “enrichment worksheets” I stayed up nights organizing, selected from over a thousand practice sets—in their mouths, they became the straw that broke their backs. The personal time I sacrificed to supervise their evening study sessions, always available to answer questions—that became “ruthless occupation.” Showing them the most difficult but most effective path to top universities—that made me the “chief architect of student torture”? The phone buzzed on the office desk. Principal Anderson’s voice trembled slightly: “Miss Harper, the Department of Education is calling. They say they’ve received numerous complaints and are demanding we investigate immediately and give the public an explanation!”

I walked out of the principal’s office. The hallway was empty, yet it felt like eyes were watching from everywhere. A strange atmosphere permeated the air. Class 11-1, this so-called “Honors Class,” was my labor of love since I started teaching them in ninth grade. From initial student selection to creating each semester’s teaching plan, to crafting customized preparation strategies for students at different levels—I could say with confidence I’d never slacked off for a moment. I firmly believed that for these kids without privileged backgrounds, the SAT was one of the few truly fair battlefields in their lives. And my responsibility was to forge them the sharpest weapons. So I sacrificed nearly all my holidays, organizing materials from tens of thousands of practice tests into what they called “devil enrichment worksheets.” Every single problem targeted an SAT difficulty point. So I turned down all social engagements to supervise their evening study sessions. As long as they didn’t understand any concept, I would explain until they got it. I believed this was being responsible for their futures—with high scores, you can choose the city you want, study the major you love, have the confidence to say no… This matters far more than empty “happiness slogans” and superficial “enrichment activities.” But now, this had become ironclad evidence of “student torture,” the reason for nationwide condemnation. Passing other classroom doors, I could hear whispered conversations inside. “Did you hear? Miss Harper from Class 1 got called out online.” “Serves her right. Why does she have to be so intense, making the pressure high for us too.” “Exactly. Someone should’ve dealt with her ages ago.” I pushed open my own classroom door. The previously noisy morning reading session came to an abrupt halt the moment I appeared. Dozens of pairs of eyes turned toward me in unison—panic, evasion, curiosity, schadenfreude… emotions intertwined. Then, like startled birds, they instantly lowered their heads, pretending to read aloud. My gaze swept slowly across the room, finally settling on a seat by the window. Melissa. A transfer student from out of state last semester. Above-average grades, very well-behaved, sweet-talking. At this moment, she kept her head down, long lashes covering her eyelids, shoulders trembling slightly—the picture of a frightened deer. I recalled last week’s composition class. Melissa had used almost identical metaphors in her essay to describe “the pain of not being understood.” At the time, I’d thought this girl had delicate writing skills and a sensitive mind. Now, those words from the post overlapped perfectly with the face before me. I could almost certainly conclude that aside from Melissa, it couldn’t be anyone else. I also remembered a parent in the group chat named Marcus Bennett. His own child had mediocre grades, yet he always loved to pontificate in the group, playing the “thought leader.” “Kids today suffer too much. We should give them a happy childhood!” “Grades aren’t everything! Mental and physical health matter most!” “I support reducing academic burden! Firmly against sea-of-questions tactics!” At the time, I’d only thought he was talking without understanding the stakes, and hadn’t dwelt on it. Now, those high-minded words overlapped seamlessly with the angry comments online. Could it really be that I was wrong? Did I push too hard, making them feel this was all torture, to the point where they could justifiably strike back? I laughed bitterly at myself. My phone rang again. The academic director. “Miss Harper, get over here now! Major trouble! The Department of Education investigation team is already at the school gates!” The voice on the other end was panicked beyond recognition. I took a deep breath, suppressing the disappointment surging in my chest. “I understand.” Fine. Since you so desperately crave this so-called “happiness,” so thoroughly detest this narrow path covered in thorns. Then I’ll return to you that broad, flower-strewn avenue. I addressed the entire class calmly: “This afternoon, fourth period, emergency parent meeting. Everyone must notify their parents.”

The parent meeting was set for 4:30 PM. The auditorium was packed. An unusual atmosphere churned through the air. Anger, doubt, spectators eager for drama, and a barely detectable smugness. Marcus Bennett sat front and center, surrounded by several parents, gesticulating as he spoke. When he saw me enter, he immediately stopped talking, replacing his expression with one of righteous indignation, like a judge about to sentence a criminal. Melissa’s mother sat beside him, eyes red-rimmed, clutching a tissue, looking both haggard and aggrieved. I ignored the gazes that seemed ready to devour me and walked straight to the podium. “Miss Harper, you’re finally here.” Marcus spoke first, voice not loud but enough for the entire room to hear. His tone carried a condescending sort of “concern.” “We’re here today not to accuse you. We just want to communicate with you. The children are under too much pressure. I’m sure you saw that online post. The children’s voices are the most genuine. As parents, we can’t ignore this!” He looked around as if seeking support. “That’s right, Miss Harper, this can’t continue!” “My child has been suffering from insomnia lately, always complaining of headaches!” “The SAT is important, but our children’s lives are more important!” Echoes rose one after another. Just then, Melissa’s mother burst into tears with a wail, her voice shrill and full of accusation. “Miss Harper! I’m begging you! Please let my daughter go! She’s only seventeen! Two nights ago she had nightmares, crying about ‘worksheets, endless worksheets’! Her hair is falling out in clumps! If this continues, you’ll drive her insane!” As she cried, she stared at me with those bloodshot eyes. “We don’t ask for her to get into some top university! We just want her healthy! Happy! Living like a normal kid! Is that too much to ask?!” Her tearful accusation was like gasoline poured on an already smoldering fire. The entire auditorium’s emotions ignited completely. “This is too much! Practically abuse!” “We need answers!” Just as the situation was about to spiral out of control, the back door of the classroom opened. Principal Anderson entered with two stern-looking men. “I’m from the Department of Education investigation team, surname Li.” The lead man got straight to the point. “We’ve received numerous formal complaints alleging that Miss Harper has engaged in unauthorized supplementary classes and excessive student workload. We’re here today to investigate on-site. The Department of Education’s position is clear: students’ mental and physical health always comes first!” Investigator Li’s words were like a final judgment, giving all the “denouncing” parents a shot of confidence. The smugness on Marcus Bennett’s face was barely concealed. I stood on the podium, looking at those faces with their various expressions. My gaze passed through the crowd, landing on a corner. That was Lily’s father. A quiet, taciturn middle-aged man. Last semester, Lily had acute appendicitis requiring immediate surgery. He was on a business trip at the time, beside himself with worry. It was me who, without hesitation, advanced all the medical expenses, signed the forms, and stayed at the hospital all night until he rushed back. At the time, he had gripped my hands, eyes red-rimmed, words incoherent, bowing repeatedly. And now, this man, as Marcus delivered his passionate speech, as Melissa’s mother wept bitterly—he simply nodded in agreement. That nod felt like a red-hot steel needle piercing my heart. More than the vicious online curses, more than Marcus’s public confrontation, more than Melissa’s mother’s tearful accusations—it made me feel bone-deep cold. So the devoted help I thought I’d given, the teacher-student bond I thought existed, was so worthless in the face of so-called “public opinion.” I closed my eyes, forcibly suppressing the surge of blood and qi. When I opened them again, all emotion had drained from my eyes, leaving only deathly calm.

“Miss Harper,” Marcus continued pressing, “you see, the Department of Education leadership is here. Surely you should give us some kind of response now?” “A response?” I spoke coldly, voice not loud, yet instantly silencing the entire room. I turned to Investigator Li, turned to all the parents, and bowed slightly. “I understand everyone’s meaning. ‘Public opinion’ cannot be defied. The children’s ‘happiness’ matters most.” “I will implement reforms immediately.” My gaze swept across Marcus, across Melissa’s mother, finally settling on those dozens of scrutinizing eyes below the podium. “Tomorrow morning, I will announce my reform plan.” My voice was calm, yet carried a determination they couldn’t comprehend. “A plan… that conforms to ‘public opinion.’” The next morning, the school’s morning exercises were temporarily canceled. In their place was an impromptu all-school assembly. A massive white screen slowly descended. A notice titled “Regarding Teaching Method Adjustments for Class 11-1” was projected before everyone’s eyes. Simultaneously, this notice was pushed to every Class 11-1 parent’s phone. I held the microphone, face calm. Principal Anderson and Investigator Li from the Department of Education stood behind me, expressions complex. The notice’s first paragraph was a “profound self-criticism.” “…In my past teaching work, my thinking was rigid, my methods outdated. I overemphasized test-taking techniques and scores while neglecting humanistic care and well-rounded student development. This caused enormous psychological pressure for students and drew criticism from all sectors of society. For this, I offer my most sincere apologies…” Below the stage, students whispered among themselves. In the Class 1 section, Melissa and several close friends wore victorious smiles. In the parent group, Marcus immediately took a screenshot, adding a “sweet justice” emoji. Then I began reading the core content of the notice. “After profound reflection, and with approval from the school and supervising authorities, the following adjustments will be made to Class 11-1’s teaching model:” “Article One: Effective immediately, all ‘enrichment worksheets,’ ‘practice tests,’ and supplementary materials are canceled. Daily homework will strictly follow the national Department of Education curriculum standards, absolutely no exceeding standards, absolutely no additions.” Below, barely suppressed cheers nearly broke through the ceiling. “Article Two: Effective immediately, all evening study sessions, weekend classes, and any form of group tutoring are canceled. Evening study time will be fully adjusted to ‘student free activity time,’ which may be used for club activities, extracurricular reading, or independent rest. The schedule will be strictly observed, with dismissal promptly at 5 PM, absolutely no overtime.” The cheers grew louder. Some students even excitedly whistled. Melissa proudly straightened her chest, basking in the grateful looks from surrounding classmates. “Article Three: Effective immediately, this class’s teaching focus will comprehensively shift from ‘test-oriented education’ to ‘well-rounded education.’ Classes will incorporate research projects, art appreciation, and other elements, aiming to cultivate students’ comprehensive qualities and innovative abilities, ultimately achieving ‘happy learning, comprehensive development.’” In the auditorium, thunderous applause erupted. These three provisions were like three pardons, completely liberating the students who’d been “oppressed” for so long. They’d won. A great victory, initiated “from the bottom up” by students and parents working together. Only the few top students in the front rows had faces pale as death, eyes filled with shock. But their voices were already drowned in the “victorious” celebration. Marcus spammed the parent group frantically: “See that! This is the power of public opinion! We fought for our children’s happiness!” The group filled with “Marcus is awesome,” “Thank you Marcus for speaking up for us.” Just as I was about to say “assembly dismissed”— Principal Anderson behind me swayed violently. He stared at his phone, all color draining from his face. He tried to rush forward and grab my microphone, but it was too late. An email just received was projected onto that massive white screen. Every teacher and student in the school could see it clearly. From: New York University Office of Admissions Subject: [URGENT] Notice of Revocation of Joint Recommendation Qualification for “Elite Seedling Program” Preview: Dear Principal Anderson and School Leadership: We are shocked to learn of major adjustments to your school’s “Honors Class” teaching approach, particularly the cancellation of all advanced-level courses and intensive tutoring led by Miss Harper. Our “Elite Seedling Program” aims to identify and secure top-tier students who excel in precisely these types of advanced courses. Given your school’s current educational reforms, you no longer meet the “Elite Seedling Program” student cultivation standards. Following urgent deliberation by our admissions committee, we formally notify you: Your school’s “Elite Seedling Program” joint recommendation slots for this academic year are hereby revoked, effective immediately.

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As the nation’s top forensic pathologist, I was brought back to the Harper family. They looked at my face, but recoiled at the smell of disinfectant clinging to me. The adopted daughter, Violet Snow, wearing a two-hundred-thousand-dollar princess dress, gently urged me: “Raven, Dad bought you new clothes. You should change out of those—they’re bad luck.” I glanced at her coldly. [What an act. Too bad for her—the last person who pulled this kind of stunt is still soaking in my specimen cabinet. I even sawed her skull open.] [Then again, forget it. Even if someone peeled off her skin and gave her to me as a gift, I wouldn’t want her.] “Crash!” My CEO father, Maxwell Harper, dropped his antique teapot. It shattered across the floor. My older brother, Cameron Harper, jumped up from the sofa like he’d been electrocuted. He pointed at me, his lips turning purple. [What are you staring at? I heard he’s a doctor too. If I get the chance, I’ll have someone send him my way.] My mother’s eyes rolled back, and she fainted on the spot. The entire family went weak in the knees, nearly collapsing to the floor.

My mother came to after someone pressed her acupressure point. The moment she saw me, her whole body started trembling. My brother Cameron clung to the wall to keep from falling. The adopted daughter, Violet, glided over gracefully, trying to take my hand. I sidestepped to avoid her. She awkwardly withdrew her hand, her face still maintaining that perfect, delicate expression. “I’ve already prepared your room, Raven. Come see if you like it.” I followed her and glanced at the room. Pink girly décor, right next to Violet’s room. The air was thick with a sickeningly sweet perfume smell. I frowned. “I won’t be staying here. I don’t like this style.” Cameron was about to scold me for being ungrateful when he heard my thoughts. [What is this mess? When blood splatters on the walls, pink shows every stain. It’ll be impossible to clean.] [I need to find somewhere more secluded. The storage room looks perfect—no windows, far from everyone else’s rooms. It’ll be easier to dissect bodies without being discovered.] Cameron ‘s face went from flushed red to deathly pale in an instant. My father Maxwell’s voice carried a tremor. “Then… you can stay in the storage room for now. I’ll have the servants help you clean it…” I cut him off. “No need. I’ll clean it myself. Just have someone install a shower for me.” [Just make sure the drainage system is good. It’ll make it easier to dispose of body parts. Don’t want the drains getting clogged.] My father felt his vision go dark. His body swayed, but he forced himself to nod in agreement. Violet didn’t notice the strange reactions from everyone else. A flash of triumph crossed her eyes. She thought I’d angered Maxwell, which was why I was being deliberately assigned to that garbage-filled storage room. I ignored them all. I walked straight toward the storage room tucked away in a corner of the first floor and pushed open the door. A musty smell of years-old mildew hit me in the face. I knocked on the wall with satisfaction. [The soundproofing seems decent too. The noise from processing bodies at night shouldn’t disturb their sleep.] Outside the door, my mother had just been helped up by Cameron and was barely recovering her senses. When she heard that thought, her eyes rolled back again, and she collapsed straight to the floor.

The atmosphere at dinner was as dead silent as a morgue. The long dining table was covered with exquisite dishes, but no one dared touch their utensils. The family sat stiffly in their seats. The TV was playing a news segment. “…Today, police discovered a dismembered male corpse in the suburbs. The methods were extremely brutal. Police are working to apprehend the killer…” On screen, the body was heavily pixelated, but the scattered outline was still horrifying. Violet pretended to be frightened, covering her eyes and leaning weakly against my mother. “How scary. These criminals are so cruel nowadays.” I stared at the news footage, my brow furrowed. [Huh? Isn’t that the one I processed a while back? They’re only releasing the information now?] [The police department’s efficiency is terrible these days. Even their case notifications are half a beat behind.] [That guy really suffered before he died though. They dismembered him piece by piece while he was still alive, and he was injected with nerve stimulants to stay conscious the whole time. He watched himself get sliced into pieces.] Cameron, being a doctor, immediately visualized that scene. His stomach churned violently. He couldn’t hold it in anymore. Face pale, he rushed to the bathroom and started vomiting. My mother was startled by the commotion. Her head lolled to the side, and she fainted again. The dining room erupted into chaos. Only Violet still looked confused, not understanding when everyone in the family had become so timid that they could get this scared just watching the news. My father Maxwell tried to maintain his composure, reaching for his water glass with a trembling hand. Just then, a loud, piercing siren suddenly rang out in the silent dining room. “Wee-oo—wee-oo—” Everyone in the family, including Cameron who’d just emerged from the bathroom, jumped in their seats. I calmly pulled my phone from my pocket. “It’s my phone,” I explained. My father’s mind was already in turmoil. He thought I’d become so brazen that I dared to use a police siren as my ringtone while doing these things—clearly showing no fear of the police at all! I didn’t know what he was thinking. I answered the call on my own. An anxious voice came from the other end. “Hello? What’s up? Mm, another assignment?” I listened to the phone, my brow slightly furrowed. “This time it’s blunt force trauma to the skull? Alright, I’ll be right there. Keep an eye on him for me.” I hung up, wiped my mouth with a napkin, and stood up. “Stop right there!” My father slammed the table and shot to his feet. “Raven! Where are you going this late at night!” Veins bulged on his forehead. “I’ll give you money! However much you want! Just… just stop doing this!” [Give me money?] [Is this about money? I’ve got an assignment from above. If I don’t go, what if someone else takes the job?] My father heard this thought, and the anger on his face instantly froze, replaced by a deeper despair. He and Cameron exchanged glances. Both their faces drained of color. “She… she has accomplices…” Cameron muttered. My father collapsed back into his chair in despair. I just thought this family was acting bizarre, then turned and walked out.

This assignment was a bit tricky. One was a high-altitude fall that hit a glass canopy, then fell again. The other had been in water too long and had become a highly decomposed corpse with adipocere formation. By the time I finished processing these two bodies, it was already dawn. A thunderstorm had started outside. Fat raindrops hammered against the car windows with a pattering sound. I drove home, dragging my exhausted body back to the Harper mansion. The living room lights were still blazing. The moment I pushed open the door, a heavy smell of formalin mixed with a faint odor of decay instantly dispersed the luxurious living room’s original aromatherapy scent. On the sofa, the Harper family members sat in a neat row. They’d clearly been waiting for me. The adopted daughter Violet saw me and immediately covered her nose dramatically, a flash of undisguised disgust in her eyes. But the next second, she switched to a concerned, worried expression and hurried over. “Raven, why are you back so late? What’s that smell on you?” Without waiting for my answer, she reached out to grab the evidence case I was carrying. “Let me help you with that. You look really tired.” Her movements were quick and urgent. I didn’t react in time, and she actually snatched it from me. Then, she “accidentally” stumbled. “Ah!” “Crash!” The metal evidence case hit the polished marble floor hard. The lock popped open, and the case sprang wide. Several organ specimens preserved in formalin rolled out. Among them, a section of intestine with uncleaned matter still attached fell wetly onto the carpet. “Raven, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to…” The instant she saw what was on the floor, her pretty face went deathly pale. The rest of her sentence stuck in her throat. Her stomach churned. She bent over and vomited on the spot. [Serves you right for playing tricks. Serves you right for being nosy.] [Happy now? I wasn’t planning to expose this, but you forced my hand.] [Since you like looking so much, take a good look.] [Now… I need to figure out how to deal with all of you.] I put on the latex gloves I always carried and bent down expressionlessly to pick up the slippery section of intestine. Then I straightened up, walked over to Violet who was vomiting her guts out, and held that section of intestine directly in front of her face. “Didn’t you want to see?” She looked up in horror, met my eyes, then saw that thing right in front of her. Her eyes rolled back, and she fainted from fright. [Such a small courage, yet she dares to cause trouble. She brought this on herself!] I held the intestine and slowly turned around. “Boom!” Outside the window, lightning split the night sky. The living room chandelier flickered in response, alternating between light and dark. In the shifting shadows, my father, mother, and brother saw me holding an intestine, standing next to Violet’s collapsed body. That image—the horror factor was off the charts. The three of them didn’t even manage to scream before their eyes rolled back simultaneously and they fainted together. The entire living room was littered with collapsed bodies. I shook my head. “Well, a family should be together.” I expended some effort first carefully cleaning up the traces on the floor and putting my “treasures” back in the case. Then I dragged them one by one back to their respective rooms and arranged them neatly on their beds. After finishing all this, I returned to my storage room and went to sleep, completely satisfied.

After that night, the house was quiet for several days. There were no cases, and I was happy to have the free time to organize my tools and materials in my storage room. I just didn’t understand why my parents seemed so on edge. They saw me like mice seeing a cat, taking detours to avoid me. Cameron even took several days off, not daring to go to the hospital. He locked himself in his room all day. This eerie atmosphere continued until my birthday, when it finally improved a bit. My father Maxwell saw that I’d been well-behaved for these past days and hadn’t actually “processed” them, so he finally relaxed a little. He decided to throw me a grand birthday party to publicly announce my identity as the real daughter and introduce me to his business partners. He assigned the task of preparing the dress to Violet. But because of what happened that night, Violet both feared and hated me. A huge shadow had already taken root in her heart. Plus, she wanted to humiliate me in front of everyone, so she didn’t tell me about this at all. On the day of the birthday party, I’d just returned from the lab. I hadn’t even had time to change out of my work clothes before the servants rushed me to the banquet hall. My clothes gave off a smell of corpses that outsiders found unbearable. I dealt with corpses every day and was long used to it, so I didn’t pay attention. When I pushed open the banquet hall doors, it instantly fell silent. All eyes focused on me simultaneously. Several ladies near me even instinctively stepped back and dramatically fanned their noses with their hands. Whispers arose. “This is the daughter the Harper family just found? Why did she come dressed like that? She looks so shabby.” “More than shabby—can you smell that? What a strange odor. Just looking at her is bad luck.” Violet ran over to me with fake concern. “Raven, why did you come dressed like this? Didn’t Dad ask you to dress up?” She pretended to be anxious. “Oh no, did I forget to tell you where the dressing room was? I have lots of new dresses in my closet. Why didn’t you tell me?” Just then, a mocking voice rang out. It was my father’s rival, President Quincy from Quincy Corporation. He walked over with a wine glass, pot-bellied, pointing at me with utter contempt. “Well, well, Maxwell, where did you dig up this daughter of yours? From some graveyard? Just looking at her gives me the creeps!” My father Maxwell’s face turned iron blue. I raised my head and looked coldly at that foul-mouthed President Quincy. [This guy—I think his name is Quincy Sterling?] [The higher-ups told me to keep an eye on him. I haven’t even gone looking for him yet, and he’s delivered himself to my door.] [I doubt he’ll be jumping around much longer. Still so arrogant when death is at his doorstep. I don’t mind working overtime to send him off early.] The moment my thoughts fell. “Ahhh—!” President Quincy suddenly clutched his head and let out a piercing scream. His eyes bulged. His whole body fell straight backward. “Thud!” His corpulent body crashed to the floor. Blood began flowing uncontrollably from his nose and mouth. The entire venue fell deathly silent. Everyone looked at me in terror, as if looking at a witch. My father Maxwell pointed at me with a trembling hand, his lips quivering, unable to utter a single word. “…It was you… you did this?” I looked at President Quincy twitching on the ground and curved my lips into a cold smile. [Work’s here. This old bastard was so arrogant, and now he’s fallen into my hands anyway.]

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My wife suddenly arranged a seven-day trip to Scandinavia for me. I thought she had finally learned to be considerate, but I accidentally overheard her conversation with our son. “Mom, if you marry Uncle Osman, what about Dad?” My son asked innocently. “We’re just fake married.” My wife chuckled softly. “Diego, remember to keep it a secret. Don’t tell Dad about this, and I’ll buy you that toy car you’ve been wanting.” My head buzzed. I stood there stunned for a long time, then turned and went downstairs to smoke a cigarette. Since she wants to make up for past regrets with Osman. Then I have the right to pursue the dreams I abandoned too. This trip to Scandinavia—I won’t be coming back. After finishing my cigarette, I turned to go back upstairs and ran into Victoria in the hallway. Seeing her in a red dress, I asked in confusion, “I thought you hated the color red?” “The past is the past, now is now. Red is in this year, and besides, I’m going with my girlfriend to try on wedding dresses.” Victoria immediately came up with several excuses. But I suddenly remembered that red was Osman’s favorite color, and since Osman returned to the country, Victoria’s closet had gained several red outfits and handbags. It turned out, there were signs all along. “Trying on wedding dresses? Let me drive you,” I said flatly. “No, no need!” Victoria shook her head. “Why would a big guy like you get involved in girls’ stuff? When I get back, I’ll bring gifts for you and Diego.” After saying this, she hugged me, didn’t wait to hear what else I might say, and quickly ran off. My heart suddenly ached. I instinctively wanted to call out to Victoria, but in the end, I just shook my head. Everyone thought Victoria and I were the perfect couple in life and the best partners in business. She didn’t look down on my humble origins and married me without hesitation. I worked practically year-round, turning the tide multiple times, saving her family from the brink of bankruptcy. Ten years of working side by side—we not only had a lovely son but also rebuilt the glory of Victoria Group. But even I just discovered that Victoria had been harboring feelings for Osman in her heart. I walked into the house. “Dad.” My son Diego rushed over and hugged my leg tightly, saying, “No matter what happens, you’ll never leave me and Mom, right?” He seemed to sense something. His innocent face was filled with nervous fear. My heart ached. I crouched down, stroked Diego’s head, and asked gently, “If one day Mom and I separate, who would you want to stay with?” Diego froze, then tears welled up in his eyes. “I’m sorry.” I hugged Diego. “I’ll go make you dinner.” Diego was only eight years old. Adult matters shouldn’t trouble a child. We could have hired a nanny, but both Diego and Victoria loved my cooking. I remembered all their dietary restrictions and preferences. Tonight I made Diego’s favorite dishes. When Diego saw the food on the table, he suddenly burst into tears and looked up. “Dad.” “You already know about Uncle Osman and Mom getting married, don’t you?” “Mom told me it’s just a fake marriage. Dad, please don’t be angry, okay? Mom loves you.” I sighed softly and held Diego in my arms. I knew his little head couldn’t hold all those complicated twists and turns. He simply believed Victoria naively, hoping Mom and Dad wouldn’t separate.

Unfortunately, the adult world isn’t that simple. After dinner, I saw Victoria’s girlfriend post on Twitter and couldn’t help raising my eyebrows. Although the photo of trying on the wedding dress didn’t show the face, that little red mole on the neck—Victoria had one too. The photo of intertwined fingers with a man clearly showed the mark of a ring on the ring finger. The watch the man wore—I’d seen it before. It belonged to Osman. The caption read: “The moon I missed will always come back to illuminate me once more.” That phrase seemed familiar. I rushed into the study and moved Victoria’s computer. Underneath was a notebook. The moment I opened it, that exact phrase jumped out at me. All signs indicated this account wasn’t some girlfriend’s, but Victoria’s own. “Scandinavian trip.” “The fictional girlfriend’s wedding and Twitter account.” “Victoria, to deceive me, for Osman’s sake, you could come up with such absurd tricks.” I muttered to myself and picked up my phone to send a message. [Save me a partner spot.] [Also, have your lawyer draft a divorce agreement for me.] A few months ago, my childhood friend Brennan invited me to start a business in Scandinavia, offering me 30% equity without requiring a penny of investment. The other two partners agreed because they valued my abilities. But I had a wife and child and just wanted stability, so I kept refusing. Now it’s time to let loose. Close to midnight, Victoria came home drunk. She wasn’t carrying any gifts. Instead, her hair was wet and stuck to her cheeks, and her black stockings under her red dress had several holes. She looked completely disheveled. “Collins, why aren’t you asleep yet? Were you waiting for me? You naughty man, you just love wearing me out.” She flashed me a seductive smile and went straight to the bathroom. In the past, she would always hug me first. At this thought, my heart sank. Suddenly, I heard sobbing and hurried to Diego’s room. “What’s wrong? Bad dream?” Diego shook his head, his little finger pointing at his phone screen. I looked down—it was a Twitter post from Osman’s daughter, Millia. Millia was sitting at a pink piano, hugging a tablet computer, smiling happily. Caption: [Thank you to the best mom in the world for giving me a custom limited-edition piano.] “Dad.” “I saw this piano on Mom’s computer, and that tablet too.” One aggrieved sentence nearly shattered my psychological defenses. I finally understood why Diego was crying. Usually, Victoria would say, “Boys should be raised frugally so they don’t become spendthrifts later.” So she was very strict with Diego, almost never buying him the toys he wanted. Even this phone was my old one I secretly gave Diego. I would also secretly take Diego out to play. Every time Victoria found out, she would get angry with me. That’s why she used the toy car to buy Diego’s silence. And today before leaving, she said she would bring gifts for Diego and me, but came back empty-handed. Deceiving and tricking me was one thing. But how could she shower someone else’s daughter with love, giving her everything she wants, while being harsh and deceptive to her own son? “Be good, I’ll buy them for you.” I comforted Diego, coaxed him to sleep, then returned to the living room and sat on the sofa. Waiting for Victoria to come out. Suppressing my anger, I asked, “Didn’t you say you’d bring Diego a gift?” “I forgot, I forgot.” Victoria smiled awkwardly and snuggled into my arms. “I’ll buy it for him next time. Boys should be raised frugally anyway.”

While speaking, she caressed my chest. In the past, I couldn’t resist this kind of flirtation from her. Now my heart remained completely unmoved. “I see Millia gets whatever she wants from her family. Today she was smiling while holding a tablet sitting at a pink piano.” I deliberately spoke sarcastically. Victoria froze first, then exploded, standing up abruptly and frowning. “Why do you have to compare with others?” “It’s just a gift. Why are you being so passive-aggressive? Are you deliberately picking a fight?” “Is it Diego who wants a gift, or is it you?” I said nothing, just looked up and stared into her eyes. After a moment of tense atmosphere, Victoria seemed guilty. She looked away, and her tone softened considerably. “Collins, let’s not fight. The day after tomorrow is Diego’s birthday, and I’ll definitely prepare a big surprise for him!” “Keep yourself in a good mood these next couple days and get ready for the seven-day Scandinavian trip.” I nodded and went to the study under the pretext of handling work. The next day at the company meeting, Osman suddenly spoke up. “Someone should take over Collins’s work while he’s on vacation, right?” “I’d like to volunteer.” The corner of his mouth lifted in a smile, his eyes fixed on me with a hint of provocation. Everyone was stunned and looked at Victoria in unison, waiting for a response. It was just a seven-day vacation—normally Victoria or a deputy could have filled in. No one expected Osman to dare demand authority publicly. It was rather absurd. “Do as Osman says.” Victoria took a deep breath and looked at me. “Collins, relax on your vacation. Leave the work to Osman. He’s quite capable.” The room fell silent. This time everyone looked at me. “Collins, you don’t think I’m trying to steal your position, do you?” Osman smiled even more brightly, his tone even more provocative. Everyone could smell the tension. I’d been at Victoria Group for ten years—everyone knew I was decisive and formidable, not someone to mess with. Even Victoria seemed nervous. But I just smiled. “Fine, I agree.” No one expected me to yield authority so easily. Only Victoria breathed a long sigh of relief and showed a smile. Before she could say anything, I stood up and left. Victoria immediately followed me out and grabbed my hand from behind. “Collins! Let me explain…” I turned and interrupted. “Explain what? That this whole meeting was targeted at me?” Never mind me—anyone could see Victoria was paving the way for Osman at my expense. And it started with the seven-day Scandinavian trip. Her schemes ran too deep. I hadn’t noticed before. “Collins, let me explain properly.” Victoria opened her arms and hugged me tightly, speaking earnestly. “Osman is talented. He can shine and bring new vitality to the company.” “I was forced to come up with this solution.” “When you get back, I’ll definitely make you vice chairman of the company. I hope you can understand.” Vice chairman? Don’t make me laugh! Since Victoria Group was established, there had never been a vice chairman position! Just like the gift she kept promising Diego—it was nothing but empty words. “For ten years, I’ve been understanding you, being considerate of your difficulties.” After hesitating for a few seconds, I sighed. “Yes, you’re the best!” Victoria actually thought I wasn’t angry anymore. After complimenting me, she turned and went back to the conference room. When I was packing up things in my office, Osman walked in.

“I’m treating everyone to dinner tonight. Want to join?” He smiled. “No time.” I calmly declined and took my things to leave. Behind me came Osman’s voice. “So what if you’ve been together ten years? It doesn’t compare to one glance I give Victoria.” But I didn’t respond. In the afternoon, Osman sent a message in the executive group chat: [I got promoted today, treating everyone to dinner.] Victoria didn’t try to stop it at all. Instead, she took the lead in responding, then sent me a message. [Collins, don’t overthink it.] I didn’t reply. That evening, Victoria and Osman and the others happily dined out. I was at home packing my luggage. “Dad.” Diego ran over, tugging at my hand. “Dad, are you leaving? Can you wait a few days?” “Tomorrow is my birthday. Mom said she’d give me a big surprise. I’ll wish for you and Mom to never separate! For Mom not to marry Uncle Osman!” “She’ll definitely agree!” His little face looked anxious as he spoke incoherently. “Okay.” I nodded gently. Victoria didn’t come home all night. Diego and I stayed awake all night. “Mom must be preparing my surprise!” Diego looked out the window and spoke as dawn broke. But one hour, two hours… until it got dark again, Victoria still hadn’t come back. I couldn’t help calling Victoria. “Today is our son’s birthday. Where’s the surprise you prepared?” “Oh… it’s in the nightstand. Plane tickets to Scandinavia. Take Diego and go travel together!” Victoria laughed. “I’m too busy today. I’ll hang up now.” The call ended abruptly. I turned and took out the plane tickets from the nightstand. So Diego had also become an obstacle in Victoria’s path to fulfilling her wishes. Almost simultaneously, Victoria’s “girlfriend” account posted on Twitter again. [Engaged! If you love him, give him everything he wants.] The attached image was an equity transfer agreement. I clenched my fists. For ten years, I worked hard at Victoria Group, doing the work of ten departments by myself. From rules and regulations to company development direction, from choosing partners to factory locations—everything was painstakingly determined by me. Yet I only received an ordinary manager’s salary! Now all my achievements were being taken by Osman, who had contributed nothing. “Dad, Mom’s not coming, is she?” My son’s crying voice came through. I turned back to see my son trembling while holding his phone. On the screen, Osman’s daughter Millia had also posted on Twitter. [Thank you, Mom, for the little cake you made with your own hands!] For a child, this was undoubtedly a crushing blow. “Dad, I don’t want to stay here anymore. Can you take me with you?” Diego said through his tears. “Okay.” I nodded tearfully, packed all the luggage, left the divorce agreement, and led Diego out the door. We boarded a plane to Scandinavia. Victoria and Osman held their wedding, spent a few days on their honeymoon, and didn’t go home. They went directly back to the company for a regular meeting. Her eyes swept across everyone present. She asked in confusion, “Where’s Collins? Why isn’t he here?” Everyone shook their heads in unison. “He must be having too much fun.” Victoria muttered, stood up, walked out of the conference room, and called me. “Hello, Collins!” “You’re never late for work normally. Why didn’t you show up for today’s meeting? Haven’t you come back from Scandinavia yet?” Hearing her questioning tone. I couldn’t help but laugh coldly. “You’ve already abandoned this family. Why should I come back?”

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My boyfriend, who died three years ago, sent me a wedding invitation. He’d even changed his Ins profile picture to a couple’s photo and made a post. In the picture, he was holding Ina’s hand and kissing her forehead. For a moment, I thought I was hallucinating. I organized his funeral. I signed his autopsy report when he died. Because he died in a car accident on a trip with me, his parents even beat me up. How the hell did he become my brother-in-law? Soon, Ina called me. “Betty, remember to come to my wedding this weekend! My fiancé will pick you up.” “Your fiancé’s name is Leo?” I asked. “Yes! Do you know each other?” Know each other? More than that—I organized his funeral. His parents have received countless transfers from me over the years. I let out a cold laugh. “No, I don’t. Just thought the name sounded familiar.” Ina innocently told me all about her boyfriend, then said, “I’ve been wanting to introduce you two, but Mom and Dad said you were too busy and told me not to bother you.” I was indeed busy. Busy paying Leo’s mortgage—the Leo who’d been dead for three years. I wished I could split myself into eight people to make enough money. I hadn’t gone home for three straight years for the holidays. No wonder I didn’t know Ina was dating someone. Usually, I’d end all phone conversations with my parents within a minute. They were the understanding type of parents anyway, rarely bothering me. So they never told me Ina was seeing someone. With this in mind, I exchanged a few pleasantries with Ina. The moment I hung up, I canceled the card I’d been using to send Leo’s parents their living expenses. For three years, his parents asked me to buy them toilet paper whenever they ran out. They took overseas trips once a year, easily spending over a hundred thousand each time. I scrimped and saved to support them, buying them only the finest things. Thinking about this, I couldn’t help but open their chat interface. Turned out they came knocking first. “A relative is getting married and we urgently need money. Send us a hundred thousand!” A hundred thousand? They really did think I was an ATM. I called them immediately. “Tell me the truth—is Leo dead or not?” When they heard my question, their tone instantly shot up. They were furious. Especially Leo’s mother. Perhaps she’d been well-nourished by bird’s nest soup all these years. The woman who used to speak in a weak, trembling voice like a baby chick was now roaring at me ferociously. “Wasn’t Leo killed by you back then?” “You insisted on going to that place for vacation, which got Leo killed, leaving us two lonely old people behind.” “So what if we spent some of your money? If it could bring Leo’s life back, who would care about your money!” She started wailing hysterically on the phone. First saying I’d killed Leo, forcing them to have no support in their old age. Then saying if Leo were still alive, their life would definitely be much better than now. After saying all this, she shouted into the phone, “Leo was about to be promoted to director when he died—that’s an annual salary!” “That’s way more than what you’ve been giving us.” As she said this, she even disdained the money I’d been giving them. I smiled and hung up without another word.

Getting the truth from them was impossible. I’d have to see for myself. After thinking it over, I called my parents first. I’d been out of touch with them too much these past years. I learned about family news very slowly. I only found out about Ina’s wedding right before the ceremony. With this thought, I dialed my parents’ number. They answered instantly. It was very noisy on their end. I could only hear my mom repeatedly saying “hello” and “hello.” Seemed like she couldn’t hear me clearly. Finally finding a quiet place, her first words were, “You need to come early for Ina’s wedding—they want you to be the witness!” Witness? Hearing those words and thinking of that family’s disgusting behavior made my scalp crawl. I briefly asked how Leo and Ina got together. “They’ve been together for a while now. Started dating three years ago around Christmas. Leo’s pretty good.” “He’s bought us quite a few things over the years, and he’s taken good care of Ina too.” “She’s pregnant now… We figured they should really get married, so we discussed having them do it first.” Pregnant? The words “Leo is my ex-boyfriend who died before I could bring him home” got stuck in my throat. Both my mom and I fell silent for a moment. My mom probably didn’t know what to say to me. But she didn’t want to hang up either, since I so rarely called. At this moment, my mom asked, “You can’t come back again?” I laughed awkwardly. “I’ll come back. I definitely will.” After hanging up, my heart felt heavy. But I still packed my things, planning to go back for the weekend. For the sake of that child, I’d hold off on digging up Leo’s grave. With this thought, I systematically canceled all the membership cards, fixed deposits, and personal pension plans I’d set up for Leo’s parents. As the money returned to my account bit by bit, I realized how much I’d spent over these three years. Just as I submitted the last refund request, Leo’s parents finally couldn’t take it anymore. They called one after another. I didn’t answer any of them, and finally just blocked them. I also stopped paying the mortgage. From today on, Leo’s family wouldn’t get another cent from me. After finishing everything, I collapsed into bed. It was the middle of the night when sudden knocking at my door woke me. I checked the video doorbell. It was Leo’s parents, so furious their eyebrows practically flew off their faces. I ignored them. They knocked louder and louder, attracting the property management’s attention. Eventually they were forcibly escorted away by security. The next morning, I woke up and checked my phone to find several missed calls from my parents. I quickly called them back. On the other end, my parents were crying. “We agreed to give the gift money before the wedding, but Leo’s parents are saying they want to cancel the wedding because they don’t have money.” “Ina’s already showing, and it’s too late for an abortion.” “We can’t reach Leo either. Ina’s so upset she’s been hospitalized.” My parents cried even harder as they spoke. I immediately stopped them. “Wait. There’s definitely more to this. You’d better tell me everything honestly.” Only then did my parents reluctantly tell me the truth. “When Ina first started dating Leo, your dad and I didn’t approve. Then Leo tricked Ina into going to another city with him. We just found out yesterday that Ina had already given birth to one child there. Now this pregnancy has some issues with the prenatal checkup, and Leo’s family is saying they don’t have money, won’t hold the wedding, won’t get the marriage license!”

What! “Stay home and wait!” As soon as I said that, my parents mumbled acknowledgment and hung up. I immediately requested time off, grabbed my luggage, and drove home. Suddenly I remembered something—the hundred thousand Leo’s parents mentioned for a relative’s wedding. I quickly asked my mom how much Leo’s side was contributing to the banquet. My mom said a hundred thousand. I suddenly laughed. So even Leo’s wedding money was supposed to come from me. And he’d tricked Ina into having one child with another on the way. Absolute scum. By the time I reached the hospital, it was noon. My parents had come with homemade food. I rounded a corner and just stared at them with wide eyes. “Betty!” My mom rushed over and hugged me. My mom had always been passive when I was little. If my dad wasn’t home, I had to manage the whole household. Now my dad was also looking down, knowing he’d spoiled Ina when she was young. That’s why she thought everyone in the world was good, and ended up being scammed so badly. My dad couldn’t say a word now, just looked at me and muttered quietly. “Betty, Ina was deceived too. Don’t scold her when you go in.” I snorted coldly. They’d said the same thing since childhood—can’t criticize mistakes, can’t say anything, raising her like a little princess. Every time Ina acted cute, both of them would cave. I sighed helplessly. “You didn’t raise me this way when I was young.” When I was young, my dad’s stick never stopped appearing on my body. Later, he compensated Ina with all the affection he owed me. Instead, it made me feel he favored her. We grew apart and now we’re the most familiar strangers. They didn’t dare say anything else. When I pushed open the hospital room door, I saw Ina lying in bed crying alone. I basically raised Ina. When we were young and our parents worked, I was the one watching her. Seeing her cry like this now made my heart ache too. I walked over and looked at her belly. “Get an abortion!” “This is my child. An abortion… wouldn’t that be bad?” “I said get an abortion, so get an abortion. You already had one child, and he still won’t marry you. Now he’s disappeared. Do you really think he loves you?” Ina lowered her head without speaking. After nearly several minutes of silence, she finally said something. “But I wronged him.” I turned to look at her. “How did you wrong him! Tell me!” Ina choked out, “I killed his ex-girlfriend!” The moment those words came out, my head started throbbing violently. Ex-girlfriend? Killed his ex-girlfriend? Then what was I—a ghost? Leo’s family had scammed our entire family. What a disaster. Just as I was about to speak, Ina grabbed my hand, as if mustering great courage. “I hit and killed his ex-girlfriend with my car. I should have gone to jail, but he let me go!” “He loved his ex-girlfriend so much. They were about to get engaged, and she was pregnant with his child. Don’t you think I’m evil? So I…” Every word she spoke made my head hurt more, but Ina thought I was agreeing with her. Crying, she hugged me. “So I had no choice. I couldn’t go to jail!” I grabbed her chin and made her look at me. Ina started rummaging through her bag for something. Before I could ask, she pulled out a photo. The face was blurred, but I could still tell—this was me! But Ina cried and said, “I even ruined the only photo of his ex-girlfriend. I’m just…” “I’m his ex-girlfriend!”

The moment I said those words. The three people sitting across from me froze, as if they didn’t understand what I’d said. Just as I was about to repeat myself, they all simultaneously let out a shocked “What!” I pulled up the original photo from my phone. This was a photo of Leo and me together, and it wasn’t the only one. I’d bought a printer to play around with back then and printed just this one. Yet Leo managed to use it for his act. I stared at Ina. “So where’s your other child?” “Being raised by his parents. They said I couldn’t take care of it properly.” “You’re really his ex-girlfriend?” I nodded and showed her all the evidence from when Leo and I were together. Photo after photo, plus Leo’s contact information, all laid out in front of Ina. Only then did Ina truly understand that I was the ex-girlfriend Leo had claimed died long ago. I also told my family about how Leo faked his death to scam me. In that instant, my usually timid parents went crazy. “I’m going to take a knife and chop up their whole family right now!” I stopped my dad. “Don’t go. You and Mom together aren’t even half Leo’s dad’s size. No point throwing eggs at a rock.” My parents, called back by me, just kept crying in anger. Ina kept crying too. She touched her belly, looking like she didn’t know what to do. I looked at her. “You can’t keep this child. Schedule the surgery now.” “Okay, I’ll listen to you.” After learning the truth, she didn’t argue with me and obediently underwent the surgery under my supervision. While she rested in the hospital room, I called my parents out. “Call Leo’s parents and tell them we’ll pay for the banquet. They just need to attend, no gift money required.” “Why?” My mom said excitedly. I glanced at her, and she nodded. “Got it. I’ll call now.” Hearing they wouldn’t have to spend a penny, Leo’s parents agreed immediately without even considering it. “They just didn’t want to pay. Ina’s really pitiful, getting scammed by people like that.” My parents said this as I opened my phone to look at Leo’s account with its couple profile picture. Obviously, after so much time, he’d forgotten who I was and hadn’t blocked me. He’d even posted tomorrow’s wedding invitation on Twitter. At that moment, my parents suddenly seemed to realize something. They quietly approached me. Softly they said, “Ina just had surgery. She can’t go to the wedding!” “I didn’t say she should go.” “Then who will?” “Me.”

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I chased after Ethan Sinclair for five years. I drank on his behalf until I had a stomach hemorrhage, attended social events for him until I was covered in the world’s grime. Yet he called me dirty, tore apart my mother’s keepsake in public while holding his new lover, and treated me like a dog that came running at his beck and call. I turned around and married Mason Westwood, the man rumored to be uninterested in women. It wasn’t until Ethan knelt in the snow, begging me to come back, that Mason kissed me in front of everyone. “Get lost. She’s mine now.” Joanna’s POV After pursuing Ethan for five years, I went from being the Brooks family heiress to becoming his most obedient servant. Everyone was betting on when he’d get bored and throw me away. When I stood at the private room door, soaked to the bone and clutching documents, I heard Ethan casually making fun of me to his friends. “With rain this heavy, will Joanna even show up?” “Why wouldn’t she? Everyone in our circle knows she gave up being a wealthy heiress just to run around being Ethan’s secretary.” “Joanna loves Ethan so much. Our boy Ethan’s got serious charm.” Laughter erupted from the room, mixed with the sound of drinking. Three hours earlier, Ethan had called me, asking me to find an important document. His new girlfriend, Sienna Cunningham, had lost it, and he urgently needed me to save the day. Without a second thought, I pulled out my IV, dragged my feverish body out to search through trash cans and review security footage for three hours. After finally recovering it, I rushed to the club. Just as I was about to knock, the conversation inside clearly reached my ears. “Last time he just casually mentioned wanting toast from that place downtown, and she waited in line for five hours. By the time she delivered it, she nearly passed out.” “She’s pathetically desperate.” A burst of laughter erupted, each laugh piercing my eardrums like needles. My hand gripping the documents trembled slightly from how hard I was clenching. That time buying toast, I really did pass out. It was winter then too. Ethan sent me a message in the middle of the night saying he was hungry and wanted toast from that shop. I drove halfway across London to get it. The shop was packed. I waited for five whole hours until my hands and feet went numb from the cold. When I finally delivered the toast to him, he just glanced at it and frowned. “I suddenly don’t want it anymore.” He casually tossed it in the trash. Later, I developed a high fever and collapsed at his doorstep. When I woke up in the hospital, Ethan only visited once, his tone full of impatience. “If your body can’t handle it, don’t push yourself. Who’s to blame? Stop doing these self-indulgent things.” Back then, I was foolish. I thought it was his awkward way of showing concern. I thought if I was good enough to him, one day he’d see my sincerity. Now I understand. He never valued my devotion. The next second, his careless voice drifted from the room. “Her?” Ethan’s voice carried a hint of drunkenness. “She’s just someone who comes when I call and leaves when I tell her to.” “As long as I crook my finger, even if I told her to crawl in here on her knees right now, she’d be willing.” “You’ve got real skills, training the Brooks family heir to be so obedient.” “Who doesn’t know Joanna loves him like crazy? Without him, she can’t survive.” The room filled with unrestrained laughter. Standing at the door, I felt my blood run cold. I drank on his behalf until stomach hemorrhaging sent me to emergency care while he celebrated another woman’s birthday. I cleaned up his messes, even giving up the opportunity to study at Cambridge, staying at his company like a workhorse. To match his preferences, I suppressed all my edges and became gentle and accommodating. I thought hearts were made of flesh. I thought after five years of companionship, even a stone would warm up. Tears fell on the back of my hand, but I didn’t cry out loud. Through the door crack, I glimpsed that man. He still stood out in the crowd. He was holding his new girlfriend, Sienna Cunningham, in his arms. He lowered his head to feed her a drink, his expression lazy and indifferent. Sienna nestled in his embrace, smiling brilliantly. I looked at the documents in my hand and felt truly pathetic. “Miss Brooks?” A waiter’s surprised voice came from behind me. “Why aren’t you going in? Mr. Sinclair and the others are all inside.” The waiter’s voice wasn’t quiet. The laughter in the room stopped abruptly. Ethan’s cold voice drifted out. “Since you’re here, why not come in?” “I just finished drinking anyway. Drive me home.” The waiter looked at me sympathetically. I took a deep breath and forced the stinging sensation in my eyes back down. I turned and left, casually tossing those documents into a trash can. Then I called my father. My voice choked as I spoke. “Dad, I’ve changed my mind. Arrange a marriage for me. Make it fast, or I’m afraid I’ll regret it.” Silence lasted a few seconds on the other end before his voice came through. “Are you sure?” “I’m sure.” “Alright, I’ll arrange it.” After hanging up, I wiped the tears from my face and strode into the rain.

Joanna’s POV The next day, I started organizing everything related to my resignation. Since I’d promised my family I’d get married, I decided to cut all ties and leave myself no way back. The work I currently had wasn’t that much. Five days would be enough to properly hand everything over. Whether HR agreed or not, I’d completely leave this place after five days. I was about to write down Ethan’s preferences to leave for whoever came after me. Then he sent me a voice message asking. “Joanna, where’s the hangover remedy? Where did you put it?” Instinctively, I stood up, wanting to go to the break room to make honey water. For five years, whenever he had a hangover, I’d prepare a warm glass of honey water the next day, taking care of every detail, even though this wasn’t part of my job description. But this time, I stood halfway up and sat back down. I didn’t respond. I turned my phone face-down on the desk. I typed the last line on my keyboard. “When his stomach hurts, he can only drink warm water at exactly 45 degrees. One degree off and he’ll throw the cup.” After typing that line, the shallow scar on the back of my hand seemed to throb with phantom pain. That was from last year when the water was slightly too hot and I got cut by the glass he smashed. At the time, he just glanced at it. “Can’t even get such a small thing right. Joanna, what can you actually do?” Thinking about it now, I really couldn’t do anything. Except be pathetic. I changed the file name of my resignation handover document to “CEO Office Work Guidelines.” Just endure five more days. After five days, everything will be over. “Joanna, are you organizing materials for Mr. Sinclair again?” A junior assistant peeked over, looking at me carefully before saying. “Everyone’s saying Mr. Sinclair really favors that intern.” “Oh?” I laughed self-deprecatingly. “That’s her skill. I can’t compare.” The assistant looked at me, unable to hide the indignation on her face. “Mr. Sinclair is completely charmed by that intern, but he has no idea who’s been taking care of him so well all these years!” “His stomach problems-you went to doctors all over the city, begged for nutritional meal plans, and delivered them to him every single day without fail. He thinks they’re restaurant meal subscriptions!” “His severe insomnia-you sat by his bed every night, sometimes for half the night!” “His suits-every single one is ironed and coordinated by your own hands. You even went to learn how to tie his ties properly!” “Your life revolves entirely around him, but what about him? Some random intern dares to step all over you, and he doesn’t even care about you!” I froze. So others had been watching all along. Only he didn’t know. Or rather, he was used to it. Used to everything he wanted appearing at hand the moment he reached for it. I patted the assistant’s hand, my tone calm. “I was stupid before. It won’t happen again.” “Joanna.” Footsteps sounded behind me, interrupting our conversation. Ethan appeared, his expression cold. Sienna followed behind him, her eyes red. He threw a document on my desk-the same one I’d tossed in the trash last night. “Letting personal emotions interfere with work and treating it like a game-is this your upbringing?” Sienna spoke up pitifully. “It’s my fault. I’m clumsy and lost the contract, getting Joanna in trouble.” She tried to bow and apologize to me, but Ethan pulled her back and shielded her, looking at me even more coldly. “What right does she have to receive your apology?” “Joanna, Sienna made an honest mistake. What about you? You did it on purpose.” “I never thought you’d be so reckless just to get my attention.” The assistant tried to defend me. “Mr. Sinclair… yesterday she…” I held the assistant back and responded to him. “Mr. Sinclair is right.” I didn’t explain. I pushed the materials in front of me toward Sienna. “Then from now on, let Miss Cunningham handle these tasks.”

Joanna’s POV Sienna’s expression changed. She stood there, flustered. “Miss Brooks, did I do something to upset you? I absolutely didn’t mean to take your position. I’m just an intern. You’re still the person Mr. Sinclair trusts most.” I laughed coldly. I didn’t even bother looking at her. My gaze turned to Ethan. “Mr. Sinclair, how do you feel about this arrangement?” Ethan’s face darkened. “Why are you making things difficult for an intern? Or are you trying to tell me I can’t function without you?” He scoffed. “Joanna, these tactics get old when you use them too much.” I looked at him. “Mr. Sinclair misunderstands.” “Miss Cunningham is new. Learning more can’t hurt.” “Joanna, must you be so sarcastic?” His brow furrowed. Perhaps sensing my current mood, he softened his tone. “You’ve been by my side for years. I know your temperament well. You’re just worried I’ll overlook your contributions.” “But you shouldn’t make things difficult for a newcomer. Your position in the company won’t be easily replaced by one new person. You’re overthinking.” He turned to look at me warmly. “Next week is the company anniversary. You’ll still accompany me as my secretary.” He casually handed me a black card. “Buy whatever you like.” When I didn’t take it, he placed the card on my desk, then seemed to remember something and added. “Oh, and on the anniversary day, bring Sienna along too. Teach her more.” Sienna smiled at me. “Then I’ll be troubling you, Miss Brooks.” With that, Ethan turned and walked toward the CEO’s office. Sienna naturally hurried to follow, but after a few steps, she turned back and gave me a provocative look-completely different from the well-behaved, obedient girl she’d just been. Watching them leave, I picked up the black card from my desk. The assistant asked me worriedly. “Are you really going to the anniversary?” I snapped the card in half and tossed it in the trash, not answering her question. The anniversary happened to fall on my resignation day. But I didn’t have time to dwell on it. I needed to finish the work at hand. Before long, Sienna pushed the door open. She smiled innocently, reaching directly for my computer. “Joanna, there’s a document Mr. Sinclair urgently needs. He asked me to bring it over for review.” Afraid she’d see my resignation information, I blocked her hand. “I’m not done yet. I’ll deliver it myself later.” “No need. Mr. Sinclair is very busy. He said not to let anyone disturb him. I should be the one to deliver it.” She suddenly yanked hard. In the scuffle, she tilted toward the desk as if losing her balance. The coffee by her hand spilled onto the document Ethan needed and splashed onto my computer. The computer screen instantly went black. “Joanna, I’m sorry! I just wanted to get the document and lost my balance…” Sienna panicked and teared up, frantically trying to help me clean up. Ethan happened to appear. Seeing this scene, he frowned. “What’s going on?” Before I could speak, Sienna immediately rushed to Ethan’s side, her eyes red. “It’s my clumsy fault. I was rushing to get the document you needed and accidentally broke Joanna’s computer.” Ethan said nothing. I held up the wet document. “I already said it wasn’t finished. I’d deliver it when it was done. What’s your rush?” Sienna’s tears fell harder as she looked at Ethan. “It’s my fault. Joanna is so excellent, I was too eager to learn from her and made things worse instead. Mr. Sinclair, please punish me.”

Joanna’s POV But Ethan didn’t scold her. Instead, he looked at me with displeasure. “You know Sienna is still an intern. New people need proper guidance. If she doesn’t understand, surely you do?” “Even without Sienna today, there might be other newcomers making mistakes in the future. As their supervisor, training them properly is your responsibility.” “Let’s end this here. It’s just a document. Print it again.” He gently comforted Sienna, his tone carrying a hint of indulgence. “Were you hurt? Be more careful next time. If you really can’t handle something, just have Joanna do it. She’s used to these trivial tasks anyway. Don’t push yourself.” “But I really want to learn from Joanna.” Sienna’s voice was soft, and she carefully glanced at me. “Her work doesn’t require any technical skill. What’s there to learn?” After comforting Sienna, he led her away without giving me another glance. My desk was a mess, and there were a few red spots on the back of my hand from where the scalding coffee had splashed. It didn’t hurt much-not compared to how much my heart hurt. A chill surged through me. I remembered during those five years of chasing after him, he once said he didn’t like delicate, clingy girls. So I left the Brooks family, gave up my identity as the Brooks family heiress, and became a capable secretary by his side. But now, his every word and action defended Sienna. For her sake, he didn’t hesitate to belittle me completely. I closed my eyes and loosened my clenched fists. I was leaving soon. I didn’t want any complications. Before leaving work, I delivered the newly printed document to Ethan’s office. Sienna was also sitting in the office. The two were laughing and chatting intimately. Seeing me enter, Ethan’s smile faded. Sienna sat watching me approach as if waiting for me to report on my work. I placed the document in front of Ethan. “Legal has double-checked the terms. If there are no issues, this document can be sent out tomorrow.” “Mm.” Ethan took it, glanced through it casually, then signed. Perhaps feeling he’d been too harsh with me this afternoon, his expression softened as he looked at me. “Victor’s having a birthday party tonight. Come with me.” Victor was one of his good friends. Every year on his birthday, Ethan would bring me along. I felt a bit dazed, unsure what he meant. A complex emotion stirred in my heart. I looked at Sienna beside him and suddenly asked. “Will Miss Cunningham be going too?” Ethan paused. “Sienna? Of course she’s going.” I laughed self-deprecatingly. So I was being presumptuous again. “Then I won’t go. Miss Cunningham is new. You should bring her to more events like this, Mr. Sinclair.” Ethan’s face darkened. He was somewhat angry, not understanding what mood I was in. “Joanna, what are you implying? Or can you really not stand to see Sienna doing well?” Sienna tried to persuade him. “Ethan, maybe Joanna doesn’t mean it that way.” I bluntly shot back at her without courtesy. “Sorry, that’s exactly what I mean.” Sienna’s expression changed. Ethan grew angrier, his tone turning harsh. “Joanna, I never realized you were so intolerant! What exactly did Sienna do to offend you? Just because she accidentally spilled coffee earlier? It’s such a small matter-must you blow it out of proportion?” “You didn’t suffer any real loss. Can’t you just let it go? You’re the Brooks family heiress after all. Don’t make yourself a laughingstock.” I didn’t even have the desire to argue. With someone whose bias had reached this extreme, what was there to argue about? I said flatly. “Yes, I’m blowing things out of proportion. I’m petty and can’t tolerate others. So I won’t be going to tonight’s birthday party. I hope you both have fun.” “You’re not going? You go every year. If you don’t go this year, what will people think? That I’m mistreating you.” My phone rang. I glanced at it casually. It was a message from my father. He told me the meeting time and place were set, and sent me the contact information for the man I’d be meeting. He asked me to add him first so we could get acquainted. I held up my phone and waved it, smiling. “Sorry, my family arranged for me to meet another quality man. I’m afraid I don’t have time to attend the birthday party. Please convey my apologies to Victor, Mr. Sinclair.”

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