My parents gave me a bank card and transferred twenty thousand dollars into it every month for my living expenses. But they never told me the PIN, so I couldn’t access a single penny. When I couldn’t afford to eat and applied for financial aid, my mom tore into me. “We already gave you the bank card, and twenty thousand a month—you’re still not satisfied? You ungrateful little jerk!” Then my dad suddenly fell into a coma and needed money to save his life. My mom got on her knees and begged me to take out all the living expenses they’d transferred to me over the years. I threw the bank card on the ground. “Mom, you forgot—you never told me the PIN. The money can’t be withdrawn.” My mom’s face instantly turned deathly pale. Late at night, my phone buzzed twice. My mom sent me a screenshot. Cross-bank transfer -$20,000. Note: Living expenses. [Iris, this month’s twenty thousand has been transferred to you. Don’t let yourself go without at school.] The phone screen’s light reflected on my face. I stared at that string of numbers, my fingertips going cold. [Mom, I need to talk to you about something.] My mom seemed to be in a good mood: [Sure, go ahead.] I took a deep breath, trying to keep my voice from sounding too tense. [Could you… tell me the bank card PIN?] I waited an hour before my mom replied: [Why are you suddenly asking for the PIN? Are you getting into trouble out there? Twenty thousand a month and you’re still not satisfied?] I gripped my phone tightly, my heart pounding. No, Mom, you transfer living expenses to the card but never told me the PIN. I can’t withdraw a single penny. Lately I’ve been eating nothing but bread rolls. I really can’t take it anymore. I don’t need that much money a month. Five hundred would be fine. Just transfer it directly to my SnapChat instead of the bank card. I can’t access it. The next moment, my mom’s name flashed on the screen. I quickly put in my earbuds. “Iris, have I been bad to you? Twenty thousand a month! I even gave you the bank cardwhat more do you want? Always making demands. You ungrateful little jerk!” “Mom, the card is useless to me if I don’t know the PIN…” My mom’s voice turned shrill. “Why should I tell you the PIN? That’s your father’s and my money! We’re not dead yet, and you’re already eyeing our assets. Have you no shame? I gave you the card, I transferred the money and now you want the PIN too? Why don’t you just fly to the moon? So greedy!” I instantly understood what my mom was implying: the money was transferred for show, not for me to actually spend. The call ended. I climbed down from my bed, pulled out a bread roll from a plastic bag, and slowly took a bite. The roll was cold and hard. I nearly choked and had to gulp down several mouthfuls of cold water. My roommate looked at me sympathetically. “Iris, eating bread rolls again? Don’t your parents send you any living expenses?” I nodded. It was laughable, really. My other roommates got two thousand a month and lived comfortably. I supposedly got twenty thousand a month but couldn’t access a dime of it, surviving only on part-time jobs. I’d lived like this for three whole years.

The next morning, I tried to open my eyes, but my eyelids felt gritty and wouldn’t lift. My throat felt like it was filled with charcoal painful and parched. I forced myself to sit up and took my temperature: 101.7°F. Messages popped up on my phone: [Iris, it’s already nine o’clock. Why aren’t you here yet? We pay our part-timers daily! In my condition, there was no way I could work today. I opened SnapChat. Balance: $3.52. That wasn’t even enough to buy cold medicine. Left with no choice, I called my mom. “Mom, I have a fever—over 101 degrees. Could you transfer me some money so I can get medicine from the clinic…” I was met with a tirade. “Didn’t I just transfer you twenty thousand yesterday? And you’re asking for more money! You’re like a vampire, trying to bleed us dry until you’re satisfied!” My face burned, but my palms were ice cold. I sank into my chair, my voice hoarse and angry. “Yes, you transfer me twenty thousand every month, you gave me a bank card but you won’t tell me the PIN. That card is worthless to me! Three years. Do you know how I’ve survived each month? I hand out flyers, tutor students, wash dishes. I’ve earned every penny of my living expenses myself. I haven’t spent a cent of your money! You transfer money to the card but won’t let me use it—who exactly are you putting on this show for?” There was silence on the other end, then my mom’s shrill voice. “What, your parents are good to you and you don’t appreciate it? Now you’re blaming us? I gave you the card whether you can withdraw the money is your problem! Serves you right!” My dad tried to smooth things over. “Iris, you’re still young. When you get married, Dad will definitely tell you the PIN…” “You dare tell her the PIN and see what happens! What does a girl need all that money for? If she gets involved in something indecent, I won’t be able to show my face!” I wiped away my tears and swallowed the bitterness in my mouth. After borrowing money from my roommate, on my way back I saw Lily’s social media post: [Thanks to my employer for the treats!] Lily was the daughter of our housekeeper, Mrs. Parker. My mom doted on her treated her better than her own daughter. The image showed a SnapChat transfer from my mom for five thousand dollars. Note: Buy yourself some snacks. The plastic bag in my hand crashed to the ground. Lily—a complete stranger with no blood relation to my mom—casually received five thousand dollars. And I, her biological daughter, running a high fever, had to borrow money from others just to buy a pack of cold medicine.

A few days later, the school began accepting applications for financial aid. I filled out the materials and submitted them, but before long, they were rejected. When I heard the news, I couldn’t help rushing to the office. “Professor, I’m in financial difficulty. I’ve been working part-time jobs and meet the poverty criteria. Why was my application rejected?” The professor didn’t look at me. She lifted her teacup, took a sip, then set it back down. The office was silent. No one answered me just the sound of fingers tapping on keyboards. This dismissal gave me an ominous feeling. I stepped forward and repeated myself clearly and loudly: “Professor, why wasn’t my financial aid application approved? What’s the reason?” The professor finally looked up. She adjusted her glasses, a contemptuous smile on her face. “Miss Iris, at this school you need to learn how to be a decent person first. If someone’s morals are rotten, good grades won’t help!” Her voice wasn’t loud, but it reached everyone in the room. I felt a chill run through me. “What do you mean by that?” “Iris, your mother just called personally. She transfers you twenty thousand dollars every month. Do you know what twenty thousand means? How many people work half a year to earn that much! How dare you claim to be poor!” I opened my mouth to defend myself. “My parents transfer twenty thousand a month, that’s true, but the money stays in the bank card. They won’t tell me the PIN, so I…” “Miss Iris, please stop making excuses. Wrong is wrong. You’re an adult don’t you have the courage to admit it?” Sweat dripped from my forehead onto my faded shirt. I clenched my fists. “You can check my spending records, my bank statements. I really…” “Enough! You’re a student with higher education how can you be so shameless! Now please leave and stop taking up spots meant for students who actually need help.” “Also, I’m informing you that the financial aid will be given to Lily instead.” A wave of cold swept up my spine. “Why? Lily travels, shops, and watches movies all the time—she lives better than most students. What qualifies her for financial aid?” The professor slammed her desk. “Because Lily’s mother works as a housekeeper in your home! Her family has it hard. That alone qualifies her for the aid—not someone like you!” In the office, everyone’s eyes fixed on me—disdainful, mocking, gleeful. Several phones quietly pointed in my direction. I don’t remember how long I stood in that office. Finally, another professor took pity on me and said quietly, “Student, just go. If you keep arguing, you’ll only hurt yourself.” Back in the dorm, when I greeted my roommates, the one I was closest to turned away, her tone cold: “Iris, I never thought you’d be this kind of person. You’re clearly rich but kept crying poverty in front of us. Pay back the money I lent you as soon as possible.”

After transferring the money to my roommate, my dad called. “Iris, I heard about the financial aid. Don’t be angry. Your mom means well…” “Dad, Mom transferred five thousand to Lily the other day. You knew about that, right?” Silence on the other end. I bit my teeth, my nails digging deep into my palm. “She transfers five thousand to a housekeeper’s daughter but ignores her own daughter—won’t even give me five hundred. Is that appropriate?” “That’s different. Mrs. Parker has it hard. Your mom is kind-hearted…” I laughed. “Kind-hearted? So kind-hearted I can’t even afford to eat? What does Lily’s mom have to do with you? Are you people crazy?” My dad sounded annoyed. “Iris, how can you talk like that!” “I’m going to talk like this. During summer break before senior year, you took Lily on an overseas trip and made me work a summer job. When college started, I took a nine-hour hard-seat train ride by myself while you personally drove Lily to her school. Now I don’t have a penny for living expenses while she’s eating and drinking well on your money! You’re sick. Insane!” My dad gasped on the other end. He was angry but couldn’t refute me because I was telling the truth. “Dad, you’re the one who opened this bank card. Tell me—what’s the PIN?” Before my dad could answer, my mom’s voice rang out: “If you dare tell her the PIN, I’ll divorce you today! I’m done!” My dad became hesitant again. “Iris, when you’re more mature, I’ll definitely give you the PIN…” I pulled at the corner of my mouth. “No need.” I’d been hearing this line since the day I got the bank card—for three whole years. I was tired of it. I pulled out the bank card—the one that always showed “incorrect PIN” no matter how many times I tried. I stared at it for a few seconds, then violently threw it on the ground. Late that night, I was jolted awake by urgent ringing. My mom was crying so hard she could barely breathe: “Iris, come back right away—something happened to your dad!” I bought the earliest train ticket back. The house was already packed with relatives. At the sound of my arrival, everyone turned to look at me. I stood in the doorway. My mom lunged at me, nearly knocking me over. “Iris, your dad suddenly collapsed. He’s unconscious in the hospital. The doctor says he needs immediate surgery—the medical bills will be about three hundred thousand…” My hand tightened on my suitcase handle. My mom looked at me and finally revealed her true purpose. “We transfer you twenty thousand every month, don’t we? After three years, that should be at least three or four hundred thousand. Take it all out and save your father…” I rubbed my sore arm where she’d hit me and said nothing. “Iris!” My mom’s voice was sharp and shrill. “That’s your father! You have so much money in your card it’s all from us and now you’re going to watch him die? Your conscience has been eaten by dogs! Oh, my life is so miserable! I might as well die!” My mom wailed, but her eyes kept glancing my way. Relatives rushed to comfort her, their looks at me tinged with condemnation: “Iris, how can you be so thoughtless? That’s your parents’ money. Hurry up and hand over the bank card!” I let out a cold laugh, unlocked my phone, opened a recording, and turned the volume to maximum. Instantly, my mom’s malicious, contemptuous cursing echoed through the entire house. “Why should I tell you the PIN? That’s your father’s and my money! We’re not dead yet, and you’re already eyeing our assets. Have you no shame?” “You dare tell her the PIN and see what happens! What does a girl need all that money for? If she gets involved in something indecent, I won’t be able to show my face!” When the recording ended, the room fell deathly silent. I put away my phone and threw the bank card on the ground with a crisp sound. “Mom, you forgot—you never told me the PIN. The money can’t be withdrawn.” Under the shocked stares of the relatives, my mom’s face instantly turned deathly pale.

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I’m Alpha Bruce’s only daughter, and the only female heir among our kind. To protect me, my father trained seven warriors to guard me since I was a child. Now I’m twenty-one, but I still haven’t found my mate. So my father asked me to choose a fiancé from those seven warriors. Without hesitation, I crossed out Liam’s name, the one I once loved the most. In my last life, I was kidnapped by a pack of rogues at my engagement party. They stabbed me through the heart with daggers coated in deadly wolfsbane. With my last bit of strength, I mind-linked my fiancé, Liam. “Save me.” But all I got was his cold reply: “Nova, you’re Alpha Bruce’s daughter. A few rogues shouldn’t be a problem for you. Lily fell into the lake. I need to save her first.” The wolfsbane spread through my body. And when I opened my eyes again, I had been reborn—back to the day my father asked me to choose my fiancé. The familiar list came into view, and I jolted awake. The agony of wolfsbane burning through my body hadn’t faded yet when my father’s voice rang in my ears. “Nova, I’m getting old. One day you’ll inherit my position as Alpha of the Ironwood Pack. Today, you must choose one of these seven men to be your fiancé.” That was when it hit me. I had been reborn. Looking down at the list, I crossed out Liam’s name without hesitation. My father froze. “Nova… are you sure about this?” “You’ve liked Liam since you were a child. He’s the Beta’s son and the strongest fighter among them. Why would you cross out his name?” “Wait. I’ll have someone prepare a new list.” I quickly shook my head and cut him off. “Dad, I didn’t make a mistake.” “The one I want to choose isn’t Liam. It’s Sawyer.” The image of Sawyer flashed through my mind—the grief on his face after my death, the heart-wrenching howl that followed. “But Sawyer is only an orphan. His combat ability…” “Dad, I trust him.” My father studied me for a long moment. Finally, he nodded. “Nova, don’t announce this yet. I’ll make it official at the engagement party in three days.” He paused. “You still have three days to change your mind.” After leaving my father’s study, I walked alone toward the lake at the edge of our pack’s territory. That was when I ran into Liam. Lily was with him. The moment she saw me, Lily shrank behind Liam as if she were frightened. Liam immediately pulled her in front of him and spoke gently. “Lily, don’t be afraid. With me here, no one will bully you.” Then he glared at me. “Nova, even if Lily is just a maid in your house, you can’t treat her like this.” I frowned in confusion. This scene was completely different from my previous life. At that moment, Lily raised her swollen, reddened hand and placed it on Liam’s arm. “Liam… please don’t blame Nova,” she said softly. “I’m only an Omega. Baking bread for her is what I’m supposed to do. Even if she wanted to cut off my hand, I wouldn’t complain.” For a moment, I froze. I had never asked Lily to bake bread for me. Only then did I realize she was playing the same trick again—pretending to be pitiful so others would sympathize with her. Before I could explain, Liam exploded. “Nova, listen carefully. Even if you choose me as your fiancé, I will never love a vicious woman like you!” Then he gently stroked Lily’s injured hand, his eyes full of concern. “Lily, you’re not lowly at all. You’re far nobler than people with rotten hearts.” As he spoke, he cast me a look of pure contempt. My chest tightened painfully. In my past life… and in this one… He had never believed me. Suddenly, a figure rushed toward me with a knife. I screamed in surprise, but my body reacted instantly. A Rogue! Drawing on years of training, I kicked the knife out of his hand and forced him to the ground. Just then, Lily screamed and collapsed. Another Rogue had slashed her leg. Liam rushed to her side immediately, shielding her in his arms. Watching him choose her again, my heart slowly turned cold. In that brief moment of distraction, the Rogue I had knocked down lunged at me again. His blade shot toward my chest. But just before it could strike, someone suddenly appeared and kicked him to the ground. I looked up and froze. It was Sawyer.

Realizing their plan had failed, the two Rogues panicked and fled. Sawyer glared at Liam, his voice exploding with anger. “Liam, have you forgotten your mission? You’re Nova’s warrior. If something had happened to her, would you have taken responsibility for it?” A flicker of panic crossed Liam’s face, but he quickly masked it with indifference. “Nothing happened, did it?” he replied coldly. “Besides, Lily was injured because of Nova. I couldn’t just ignore her.” Sawyer’s expression darkened. He stepped forward and punched Liam square in the face. “So you just abandoned Nova’s safety?” he growled. “We all swore to Alpha Bruce that we’d protect her with our lives. Have you forgotten that oath?” Though a trace of guilt flashed across Liam’s face, he couldn’t tolerate Sawyer’s accusation—or the punch. The two of them immediately started fighting. “Stop!” I rushed forward, trying to separate them. Just then Lily cried out in pain. “Liam! It hurts!” Liam froze. He immediately turned to Lily, his expression full of concern. Carefully lifting her into his arms, he hurried away without another glance. Sawyer started after them, but I grabbed his arm. He turned back to me, his face cold, anger blazing in his eyes. “Why did you stop me?” he demanded. “After everything Liam just did to you, you still can’t bear to see him get hurt?” His eyes were actually turning red. “I didn’t—” “Enough,” he cut me off sharply. “There’s no need to explain.” “Since you chose him, then do whatever you want.” “I didn’t choose him!” The words burst out of me. Sawyer froze. A flash of surprise crossed his face, but it quickly faded. “You’ve liked him since childhood. Everyone knows that,” he said bitterly. “If you’re not choosing him, then who would you choose?” He waved a hand dismissively. “Forget it. Choose whoever you want.” Then he turned and walked away. I watched his lonely figure disappear down the path, my chest tightening with pain. If he knew the fiancé I had chosen was him… What kind of expression would he have? The thought filled me with unexpected anticipation. The next day, my father sent several attendants to deliver gowns for me to choose from for the engagement party. I had just picked up a dress when Liam walked in, supporting Lily as she limped beside him. The moment Lily saw the gowns, her eyes lit up. “They’re beautiful,” she said softly. But then her expression dimmed. “Unfortunately, I come from a poor family. I’ll probably never get to wear something this beautiful in my life.” Liam’s expression softened instantly. He wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “Don’t say that,” he comforted her gently. “If you like it, I’ll buy it for you.” I ignored them. But Lily wasn’t done. She glanced at the dress in my hands. “That one is a limited edition, isn’t it? I saw it in a magazine before. It must be very expensive…” She lowered her head sadly. “I could never hope to have something like that.” Liam immediately walked over to me. “Since Lily likes that dress,” he said in a low voice, “give it to her.” Anger surged through me. “Why should I?” Liam frowned, as if my refusal was unreasonable. “You’re going to be engaged to me anyway,” he said arrogantly. “No matter what you wear, you’re wearing it for me to see, right?” “Besides, Lily was injured because of you. What’s wrong with giving her one dress?” “At worst, I’ll pay you for it.” I stared at him for a moment—then let out a cold laugh. “Who told you I’m getting engaged to you?”

A flicker of panic crossed Liam’s face, but it vanished just as quickly. He sneered at me. “Nova, the entire pack knows you’re obsessed with me. If you’re not choosing me, then who else would you choose?” His eyes turned cold. “Stop pretending. Just give the dress to Lily.” Before I could react, he yanked the gown from my hands and shoved it into Lily’s arms. The sequins scraped across my palm, slicing the skin open. Blood immediately welled up. Liam didn’t even glance at my injured hand. Instead, he gently placed an arm around Lily’s shoulders. “Come on,” he said softly. “Let’s go try it on.” As they walked away, Lily turned her head slightly. She smiled at me. A slow, mocking smile. Her eyes were filled with naked provocation—as if silently reminding me that I had already lost. I forced a stiff smile in return. On the eve of the engagement ceremony, my father summoned the seven warriors. “You all know,” he said calmly, “that I asked Nova to choose one of you to become her fiancé. Whoever she chooses will help her lead the Ironwood Pack in the future.” “Tomorrow, I will announce her decision to the entire pack.” The room fell into a strange silence. In the corner, Sawyer leaned against the wall, silently drinking. Glass after glass. He didn’t look at anyone. Liam, on the other hand, looked restless. His eyes kept drifting toward the direction of Lily’s room. The other warriors began patting him on the back. “Congratulations, Liam.” “You’ll be leading the Ironwood Pack in the future.” “Take good care of Nova. Don’t disappoint Alpha Bruce.” My father glanced at me with a faint smile but said nothing. Everyone took his reaction as confirmation. In their eyes, Liam had already won. That night, Liam suddenly barged into my room. His face was dark with rage. Before I could react, he grabbed my arm and dragged me out of bed. The next second, he slammed me onto the floor. His hand shot out and clamped around my throat. “Nova,” he growled through gritted teeth, “why can’t you just leave me alone?” His fingers tightened. It became harder and harder to breathe. “It’s because of you that Lily ran away from home!” “If anything happens to her, I swear I won’t forgive you!” I struggled against his grip. “Are you insane?” I gasped. “What does Lily running away have to do with me?” His eyes were bloodshot. “If you hadn’t forced this engagement on me, Lily wouldn’t have left!” “She said in her message that she was in agony. If she does something stupid because of this—” His grip tightened again. Rage surged through me. With all my strength, I shoved him away. “Liam, listen carefully.” “I didn’t choose you.” “And I will never stand between you and Lily.” I straightened, my voice turning ice-cold. “But if you don’t get out of my room right now, I’ll have the guards drag you out.” For a moment, he froze. Then he let out a mocking laugh. “You’d better be telling the truth.” He finally regained a trace of rationality and stormed out Early the next morning, Liam returned. With Lily. His face looked exhausted, as if he hadn’t slept all night. Lily, on the other hand, looked flushed and radiant. And the faint scent of sex clung to her skin. My stomach churned. Liam stopped in front of me, his gaze icy. “Nova,” he said coldly, “even if I’m forced to marry you, I will never love you.” “If you dare humiliate Lily again…” His voice dropped dangerously. “I won’t let you get away with it.” With that, he turned and walked away with Lily. They didn’t look back once. I watched their retreating figures. And suddenly, a cold laugh echoed inside my mind. I couldn’t believe that in my previous life… I had actually fallen in love with someone like him.

Before the engagement party started, I had just finished my makeup when Lily came looking for me. She looked at me with resentment, her eyes full of hatred: “Nova, why? I refuse to accept it! Why were you born with high status while I can only be a despised Omega!” “Even Liam, the one I like, has to be forced to be engaged to you because of your father’s power!” Hearing this, I sneered and looked at her disdainfully, “Lily, hasn’t my father treated you well all these years?” “My father saw your family was poor and funded your education. After your parents died, he even took you into our home to raise you.” “Although you’re nominally a maid in our house, neither my father nor I have ever made you do any dirty or tiring work. But instead of being grateful, you constantly stir up trouble!” “As for Liam, if he truly loves you, he would give up everything to be with you! Not cling to my family’s power!” My words made Lily stagger back a few steps, “No… that’s not true… Liam loves me! He said you forced him. If he doesn’t marry you, your father will kill him.” I scoffed. “What kind of person is my father? Don’t you know? He’s kind to everyone in the pack. How could he force Liam to marry me?” Lily’s expression suddenly changed, her eyes turning vicious: “You’re lying! I’ll prove Liam’s love for me!” With that, she pulled a dagger from her pocket and stabbed her own arm, then let out a piercing scream. I watched, dumbfounded. Again? How long was she going to keep playing this framing game?! If it weren’t for the fact that her father had once been a werewolf warrior who sacrificed himself for our pack, I would have expelled her from the pack long ago! Several werewolf warriors rushed in upon hearing the sound. Lily stared at me intently, her voice weak: “Nova, why are you doing this to me!” Seeing this scene, Liam immediately flew into a rage and slapped me across the face. But the next second, he was pinned to the ground by the other werewolf warriors. “Liam, are you crazy? You actually hit Nova! If Alpha Bruce sees this, you’re finished!” Lily was sent to the hospital, and Liam also regained his sanity after the others’ persuasion. The banquet began. The hall was packed with people. My father took my hand and went on stage. “Today, I’ve gathered everyone here to announce some good news. Tonight, my daughter Nova will be engaged to one of the werewolf warriors present!” “Her fiancé is…” “Wait!” Just as everyone held their breath in anticipation, Liam interrupted my father. Everyone turned their gaze to Liam. My father’s face was full of anger. But Liam remained unfazed: “Alpha Bruce, I don’t like Nova at all. Even if you punish me today, I won’t be engaged to her!” As soon as he finished speaking, a commotion arose in the hall. “What’s going on here?” “Alpha Bruce’s daughter is being rejected in public!” …… My father laughed coldly, and the air instantly filled with a chill: “My daughter’s chosen fiancé was never you, Liam, but Sawyer!” At these words, the entire hall fell silent. No one expected that the fiancé I chose was actually Sawyer!

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I was often so hungry I’d steal my mom’s money—just eight dollars for lunch money. When she caught me, she smashed a chair over my leg, breaking it: “With a worthless life like yours, starving and freezing is what you deserve…” All these years, no matter how hard I tried to please her, she never gave me a single kind look. Curses and brutal beatings were my three meals a day. Today, I finally found out why she didn’t love me. She isn’t my biological mother at all. I am just the child she swapped with my aunt! I will uncover her secrets piece by piece, and I will never let her get what she wants. 1 I was starving to death, so I stole my mom’s phone to transfer some money. That’s when I saw the message my uncle sent her: “Chloe is also my biological daughter. Even if you didn’t give birth to her, you should treat her better. Don’t go too far.” I scrolled for a long time before I finally understood the secret they had hidden for years. The sound of water in the bathroom suddenly stopped. My mom was done showering and would be out any second. It was too late. I quickly snapped a few photos of her phone with mine and marked my uncle’s message as unread. I rapidly opened my own chat window and sent an eight-dollar red envelope. “Chloe Harper, what are you doing? Huh?!” My mom snatched the phone away and yanked my hair, roaring. I couldn’t let her know I discovered her illicit affair with my uncle. So, I had to expose my own secret to her. It just meant I wouldn’t have breakfast again. “Mom, I’m hungry. I’m starving.” Furious, she pinched and beat me. She grabbed my phone and transferred the eight dollars back. I was long used to physical pain. I hugged her leg, continuing to provoke her. “Can I just keep the money? I just want to be able to eat a piece of bread every morning.” As expected, she threw the phone aside and kicked me: “Eat what? Look at yourself, do you deserve to eat?” “Mia was born on the same day as you. She’s pretty, has a great figure, and is sweet and smart.” “Unlike you! Fat as a pig, looking like an old woman at fifteen. Every time I take you out, I can’t even lift my head.” Speaking of this, her gaze toward me became even more disgusted. The Mia she was talking about was her biological daughter, whom she had swapped and given to my Aunt Sarah, making her my nominal cousin. Before, I didn’t understand. I was always sad that she liked Mia more. I also wanted to be like Mia—pretty, confident, radiant, someone everyone liked. But growing up, I was always hungry. Every time I saw food, I could only stuff it frantically into my mouth. Because I was hungry. Because I didn’t know when I would have a full meal again. My appetite grew larger and larger. I ballooned to nearly 150 pounds, and I ruined my stomach. Standing next to Mia, I was mud, and she was a cloud. I became insecure, living like a rat in the gutter. Even so, I still thought my mom didn’t love me because I was a jinx who brought bad luck to my family, because I wasn’t good enough. Now I understood. She was intentionally raising me to be a failure. She and my uncle had an affair and conspired to covet my Aunt Sarah’s fortune, but they couldn’t just take it. So they came up with a scheme to swap the babies. She sent her biological daughter to my aunt to be her heir. All these years, they had been living like parasites attached to my aunt. Every day, she had to watch the man she loved play the loving husband with her “good sister-in-law” right in front of her. Plus, my aunt was prettier and more successful than her. Her jealousy twisted her mind, and she sought balance by taking it out on me. The stark difference between me and Mia was like the role reversal between her and my aunt. She must be feeling really good right now, wasn’t she? Curled up on the floor, I looked up at her and smiled: “Mom, since you like Mia so much, why not let her be your daughter? Actually, I really wish Aunt Sarah was my real mom too.” This sentence drove her crazy. She picked up a dining chair nearby and screamed at me: “You think I want to be your mom? What right does your worthless life have to compare with Mia?” The chair landed on my calf. I saw my leg bend at a grotesque angle. My mom was tired from beating me. Panting, she sat down on the sofa and picked up her phone. She seemed to see the message my uncle sent, then glared at me in dissatisfaction: “Did you play the victim in front of your uncle and aunt again? Did they give you money?” “Bring your phone here for me to check.” Afraid she would see the photos on my phone, I dragged my leg, proactively opened the balance screen, and handed it to her. She glanced at it, her gaze sweeping over my crooked leg. “What happened to your leg?” Her brow furrowed again, then she sighed. “Can’t you just behave? If you didn’t piss me off, would I have hit you?” “I transferred the money you wanted. Tell your uncle and aunt you broke it yourself falling down, understand?” “Now go downstairs first. Don’t let anyone know you got hurt at home.” Amidst her complaints, my phone received a message. A transfer from her. Eight dollars. 2 I put the phone in my pocket and dragged my leg, hopping outside on one foot. Good, those photos were still there. I wanted to acknowledge my aunt as my family! I wanted even more to see if she and my uncle could still be so smug after I blew the lid off this whole thing. Behind me came the sound of my mom calling my aunt. She was asking my aunt to come help take me to the hospital. I was a bit puzzled. My aunt was smart and capable, managing her business perfectly. How could she not have noticed their betrayal for over a decade? My mom pretended to avoid suspicion, always asking her for help first whenever something happened. And since she was mostly busy, she would send my uncle to help, practically digging her own grave. “Hurry up, they’ll be here soon.” My mom pushed past me and got into the elevator first. She watched me hop on one leg impatiently, her arms crossed over her chest. I finally made it downstairs. Mia came running towards us from a distance: “Chloe, did you fall? Is it serious?” She was truly beautiful and radiant. Unlike me, with heavy bangs covering half my face and nothing but flab on my body. When I was little, I envied her for having people dote on her, for not having to go hungry, for not being beaten and scolded. Later, I envied everything about her. It turns out, what I had always envied was the life that should have belonged to me. “Chloe, what are you standing there for? Mia is asking about you, didn’t you hear? Grown up so big and you have no manners at all!” My mom scolded me for her. She hooked her arm through my mom’s and acted coy, the two of them standing a few feet away from me. My uncle arrived, and finally, someone was willing to support me. But he also muttered: “How did you manage to break a bone falling down? You big fat girl, no wonder your mom couldn’t carry you. You have to strictly control your diet from now on.” My mom echoed his sentiment, completely forgetting that I never even got three normal meals a day. Mia criticized them for calling a girl fat to her face. She diverted their attention, and the family of three happily chatted about other amusing things. After taking me to get my leg treated and dumping me back home, they all left together again. On an empty stomach, I processed the photos I took from my mom’s phone. After ensuring their source couldn’t be traced, I used a secret email address to send them to my aunt. [Sarah, your best friend and your husband have been cheating on you for over a decade, and even your daughter isn’t biologically yours. Did you know?] I waited anxiously for over an hour. I tried to recall the email, but it showed that the recipient had already read it, and the recall failed. I was so excited my palms were sweating. The doorbell suddenly rang. My aunt stood outside with several bags, her expression showing no abnormality. “Chloe, does your leg hurt a lot?” “Your mom went shopping with Mia. When I found out, I dropped my work to come have dinner with you. So, Auntie treats you the best, right?” She put down the bags and came to help me. I probed: “Where’s Uncle? Is he with my mom accompanying Mia too?” “Yeah.” She was nonchalant. “They knew I was coming to see you, so they ate out after shopping.” I stared at her profile: “Auntie, I feel like you are more like my real mom. My mom seems to love Mia more. Don’t you feel that way?” My aunt’s expression was very natural. Her hand movements didn’t even pause for a second. She pressed me down onto the sofa and then laid out the takeout boxes: “No matter how unreliable your mom is, she’s still your biological mom. But Auntie watched you grow up, it’s no different than a real mom.” “What’s wrong? Did you and your mom have a fight? Or do you miss your dad?” Mentioning my dad, I fell into deep thought. He died on the day of my and Mia’s one-month celebration banquet. It was said that a fire broke out, and he died saving my uncle. That’s why my uncle and aunt took extra care of my mom and me. However, my mom blamed his death on me. She blamed me for being a jinx who killed my dad. All these years, she made me go hungry and freeze, cursed and beat me, all starting from this reason. So, every time I saw my uncle dote on Mia or my mom treat me badly, I would think of my dad. I would think that if he were still alive, my mom wouldn’t hate me, and my life would be much better… Now I also wondered, did he know that my mom and his own brother betrayed him? Did he know I wasn’t his biological daughter? “Chloe, what are you daydreaming about?” My aunt shoved a pair of disposable gloves into my hands. I snapped out of it, looked at her, and couldn’t help but wonder if she had read the email at all. Should I just lay my cards on the table? 3 My aunt pushed the takeout boxes closer to me: “Hurry and eat! It’s all your favorites: fried chicken, pizza, and soda.” Actually, I didn’t like these things, and I knew eating too much high-calorie food was bad. But when someone is starving, the smell of any food makes the stomach rumble uncontrollably. She didn’t know anything. I swallowed hard, pressed down on my cramping stomach, and tore my gaze away from the fried chicken. Mustering my courage, I expressed my wishes just like Mia usually did: “Auntie, I don’t want to eat this. Could you order me something light for dinner?” “You don’t want it? Since when did you become a picky eater?” She was stunned. Then she smiled again: “Alright! Look for yourself and see what you want.” “But don’t you dare learn from Mia and diet to lose weight. Auntie loves seeing you eat heartily. You’re a growing girl, your figure doesn’t matter.” My aunt had always been very good to me, unconditionally fulfilling all my requests and indulging my preferences without limits. But every time I accepted my aunt’s kindness, I would be beaten and scolded by my mom right after, calling me ungrateful and saying I thought my uncle and aunt’s family was richer than ours, calling me a beggar who embarrassed her. The realization that my aunt was my biological mother made my blood boil again. Once we acknowledged each other, I could openly enjoy her care and concern without having to walk on eggshells around my mom anymore. I took a deep breath: “Auntie…” But she suddenly stood up: “Oh dear, a drop of oil got on me. Let me go clean it up. Order whatever you want.” She then pinched the corner of her white blazer and walked toward the bathroom. My words were stuck in my throat. Watching her retreating back, my hands absentmindedly swiped on her phone. When I looked down at the screen again, it had stopped at the app switcher, and one of the pages was unmistakably her email. My aunt replied to the email I sent! [What makes you think I am the prey, and not the hunter?] [Whoever you are, there’s no need for any more unnecessary reminders. If there is a next time, I will drag you out into the light, and you will bear the consequences!] I read my aunt’s reply on my own phone, my body running completely cold. This was her true face. She had known all along! She definitely understood my hints just now, and probably even realized that I knew about what happened back then. No wonder I always felt it was illogical for her to be deceived for so many years. So, her limitless indulgence of me was just another way of ruining me? Her method of ruining me was completely different from my mom’s, but the end result was the same. I couldn’t understand why they couldn’t fight out in the open. Why didn’t she target Mia? Instead, she chose to destroy me! But I understood one thing: no one would ever love me. So it didn’t matter who my biological mother was. From now on, I would take charge of my own life. 4 My aunt came out of the bathroom. I selected a clay pot porridge, pretending nothing happened, and handed the phone back to her. While waiting, I shed tears in front of her: “My leg wasn’t actually broken from a fall. My mom hit me. I hate her!” “Auntie, before you said you could get me into Mia’s high school and pay my tuition. Is that still possible?” “I can write you an IOU. When I make money, I’ll pay you back the tuition.” If she wanted to see me turn against my mom, I would give her what she wanted. I could use her to escape my mom’s control and go to a fully enclosed boarding school. This was the only solution I could think of right now. She pulled me into her arms: “Schooling is no problem, but don’t ever talk about paying me back again, or Auntie will be heartbroken.” “As for your mom, she’s superstitious… Our family was truly unlucky back then. The fire wasn’t even that big at first, but the roof beam suddenly collapsed.” “Sigh~ Let’s not talk about the past. Speaking of which, your mom is also a pitiful person. But I totally understand why you resent her. The way she treats you…” She rambled on, listing all the ways my mom mistreated me, expressing her heartache for me. But my curiosity about the fire that year was piqued. The roof beam almost hit my uncle. My dad was crushed when he pushed him away. My uncle ran out, and then the house collapsed… “Auntie, were you and my mom not inside back then?” My aunt answered without hesitation: “Your mom was inside the house too, she ran out with your uncle. I was outside chatting with relatives, holding you and Mia.” I was a bit puzzled. The old house back then was a single-story structure made of mud and thatch. Even setting aside why the roof beam would fall, it was only about eight inches thick, not impossible to lift. Couldn’t two adults, my uncle and my mom, lift the beam and pull my dad out before the house collapsed? It sounded like a melodramatic plot from a soap opera. I wanted to ask my aunt more, but the delivery driver arriving with dinner interrupted me. Just as we finished eating, my mom walked in with my uncle and Mia. My aunt immediately darkened her face: “Sister-in-law, you were too heavy-handed with Chloe this time. No matter how big a mistake a child makes, you don’t go breaking their leg.” She couldn’t possibly not have guessed that my mom instructed me to say I fell. And she knew that exposing it wouldn’t make my life any easier. But she still said it. Causing my uncle to be dissatisfied and reprimand my mom. My mom’s response was matter-of-fact: “Steal a needle as a child, steal gold as an adult.” She said it was to teach me a lesson. Mia covered her mouth and gasped: “Chloe, what can you even do with eight dollars? Was it necessary to steal?” The adults followed her lead and criticized me. They all pretended not to know that the eight dollars they looked down upon meant a week’s worth of breakfast for me. Once they had their fill of scolding, my aunt finally brought up the idea of sponsoring my transfer. My mom still politely declined. My uncle, however, shot her a secret glare: “Sister-in-law, I think it’s a good idea for Chloe to board. It’ll save her from making you angry every day.” “And don’t be embarrassed about the money. Sarah does charity and sponsors impoverished students anyway. One more Chloe is nothing.” My mom, probably remembering that text message, didn’t refuse again. She just didn’t let me eat for several days in a row. When she had nothing better to do, she would pinch and curse me, tossing the same two phrases back and forth: “Learned how to tattle now, huh? If you don’t want to continue atoning for your sins, then get the hell out if you have the guts.” “Mia goes to an elite prep school. Does your worthless life deserve to go there?” I wasn’t going to be as stupid as before. When I was hungry, I would call my uncle and aunt. My mom wouldn’t act too out of line in front of them. As for the beatings and curses, I was used to them anyway. It didn’t matter. From time to time, I would intentionally add some fuel to my mom’s fire: “Mom, Aunt Sarah is so capable and rich. No wonder Uncle is so good to her, washing her feet for her every day.” “Mia told me their wedding anniversary is in two weeks. They’re going on a trip abroad for a romantic getaway.” As a long-standing “other woman,” she truly had deep feelings for my scumbag uncle. Every time, she would be so angry her face would contort. But she could only vent her anger on me. It hurt a bit, but my mood was more refreshed than ever before.

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One minute before the wedding march was supposed to play, I got the message that Arthur was going to jump into the ocean. The wind howled on the other end of the line, his voice torn to shreds: “Chloe, if you marry him today, I’m jumping off right here—I mean it.” My fingers instantly turned ice cold. Up front, the officiant was giving his opening remarks, the guests waiting with smiles for the bride to make her entrance. Beside me, my fiancé, Liam, noticed something was wrong. He turned his head and asked softly, “What’s the matter?” His eyes were gentle, just as they had been every morning he looked at me for the past three years. But I knew some secrets couldn’t be hidden anymore. “It’s Arthur,” I heard my own dry voice say. “He said if the wedding continues, he’ll kill himself to show me.” Liam’s expression changed slightly, but he quickly regained his composure. He held my hand, his palm warm: “Call the police. Today is our big day. Don’t let anyone ruin it.” He was right. Arthur was my past, and Liam was my present and future. But why were my hands shaking so badly? “He might actually jump,” I murmured. “We both know how dangerous those cliffs are.” Liam was silent for a few seconds, then asked, “So, what do you want to do?” 1 What did I want to do? I wanted to finish this wedding and marry the man in front of me who had given me stability and respect. I also wanted Arthur to live. The officiant’s voice echoed again, this time cueing my entrance. Liam looked down at me, his eyes complex: “Chloe, if you want to go make sure he’s safe, I’ll wait for you.” That sentence was like a key, unlocking a door tightly shut in my heart. “I’m sorry,” I heard myself say. “I’ll be right back.” I lifted the hem of my wedding dress and turned to run towards the exit under the astonished gazes of the guests filling the hall. Liam’s mother stood up to stop me, but Liam gently pressed her shoulder down. In that moment, his eyes were unfathomable. This wasn’t the first time I had abandoned Liam for Arthur. Three years ago, on our first date, Arthur was hospitalized with stomach bleeding. I left Liam behind and stayed at the hospital for an entire night. Two years ago, a birthday surprise Liam had meticulously prepared ended abruptly because of a call from Arthur having a “depressive episode.” A year ago, on the night Liam proposed to me, Arthur got into a car accident. I didn’t even let Liam finish saying, “Will you marry me?” before rushing to the hospital. Every time, Liam said, “It’s okay.” Every time, he forgave me. But forgiveness comes with a price. When my car pulled up to the coastal cliffs, Arthur was sitting on the railing, his legs dangling over the crashing waves below. He turned and saw me, smiling: “I knew you’d come.” The ocean breeze tangled his hair, his white dress shirt billowing like a bird about to fall. “Get down, Arthur,” my voice was calm. “Stop playing these childish games.” “Childish?” He raised an eyebrow. “Chloe, I’m getting married next month.” My heart sank heavily. “To whom?” “The daughter of the Chen family. A corporate marriage,” he said casually. “So I had to see you today, before you became someone else’s bride.” I walked towards him step by step, my heels clicking firmly on the rocky path. “So you thought you’d threaten me by jumping into the ocean just to see me one last time before you got married? Arthur, do you think I’m still the same Chloe from three years ago who did whatever you said?” Arthur’s smile froze. He looked at me, his eyes holding that familiar, heartbreaking expression—that childlike, fragile yet stubborn look that had made me compromise countless times. “I’m getting married, and you’re getting married,” he said. “Don’t you think it’s unfair?” “Fair?” I felt a surge of nameless anger. “For the past three years, every time something happened to you, I was by your side. But when I needed you, where were you? Where were you the night my father died?” Arthur’s face instantly turned pale. “I was in Paris,” he whispered. “I didn’t know…” “You knew. I called you seventeen times and sent twenty-three messages. You didn’t reply until the next day, saying you lost your phone.” I stopped five paces away from him. “That night, it was Liam who stayed with me to handle all the arrangements. It was him holding my hand at the funeral home. It was him helping me deal with those difficult relatives.” Arthur’s lips moved, but no sound came out. “Get down,” I said. “Don’t use death to threaten me. If you really wanted to die, you wouldn’t have called me. You would have just jumped.” The wind seemed to die down in that moment. 2 Arthur stared at me for a while, then slowly climbed off the railing and stood on the safe side. His movements were a bit stiff, like he had been sitting there too long. “You’ve changed,” he said. “We’ve both changed.” I turned to leave, the hem of my wedding dress caught by the wind, tangling around my calves. At that moment, Arthur’s voice came from behind: “If I said I could cancel the marriage with the Chen family, would you…” “No,” I didn’t look back. “I have to go back. My wedding is still waiting for me.” Back in my car, I checked my phone. There were thirty-seven missed calls, mostly from Liam, and a few from his parents. I took a deep breath and started the car. On the way back, it started to rain. Raindrops hit the windshield, quickly blurring my vision. I turned on the wipers and suddenly remembered a rainy day three years ago. Arthur stood below my apartment, soaked to the bone, just to tell me he had gotten the opportunity to study in Paris. “Two years,” he had said then. “Just two years. Wait for me to come back, and we’ll get married.” I believed him. I waited. But when he came back, there was already someone else by his side. The light turned red. I stopped the car and saw my pale face and slightly messed up makeup in the rearview mirror. My phone vibrated again. This time it was a text from Liam: “Are you safe?” Just three simple words. No interrogation, no blame. I replied: “Safe. Heading back.” The light turned green. When I got back to the hotel, the wedding had been paused for an hour and a half. Most of the guests were still there, but the atmosphere was noticeably different. The whispering stopped abruptly as I entered the banquet hall, all eyes focusing on me. Liam stood in the center of the stage, looking sharp in his suit, his expression calm. Seeing me, he gave a slight nod, then signaled the officiant. Liam’s mother walked over quickly, grabbed my arm, and hissed, “Chloe, do you know how many important people are here today? Do you know how much face you’ve made the Vance family lose?” “Mom,” Liam’s voice wasn’t loud, but it was enough for everyone around to hear. “Chloe is back. That’s enough.” He walked over and offered me his hand. I hesitated for a second, then placed my hand in his palm. His hand was very warm, while mine was still icy. “Shall we continue the wedding?” he asked softly. I nodded. The officiant resumed hosting, but his voice had lost its initial enthusiasm. When it was time to exchange rings, Liam slowly slid a ring onto my ring finger. It was a simple diamond ring, not the one we had originally chosen. “Where’s the original ring?” I whispered. “Needed for the ceremony, we’ll use this one for now,” he answered, then leaned down and kissed me. It was a polite and restrained kiss, devoid of warmth. The wedding banquet ended in an eerie atmosphere. 3 During the toasts, I saw all sorts of expressions: pity, mockery, curiosity, schadenfreude. Liam maintained a proper smile throughout, deflecting all the difficult questions for me. At 10 PM, the last wave of guests left. Liam and I stood at the hotel entrance, seeing off his parents. His mother looked at me, her eyes complex: “I hope you two really know what you’re doing.” His father patted Liam on the shoulder: “Have a good talk.” In the car ride to our new home, neither of us spoke. The new home was a house Liam bought three months ago in an upscale neighborhood on the west side of the city. I had imagined our married life here countless times, but now, those imaginations were cast under a shadow. After going inside, Liam took off his coat and loosened his tie. “Do you need help taking off the dress?” “I can do it myself,” I said. He nodded and walked towards the kitchen. “I’m going to warm up some milk. Do you want a cup?” “No, thanks.” In the bedroom, I struggled to undo the buttons on the back of the wedding dress. We had chosen this dress together, a simple mermaid style. Liam had said then that it perfectly accentuated my figure. Now, it felt like a heavy cocoon binding me. I took off the wedding dress, changed into pajamas, and walked into the living room. Liam was sitting on the sofa, holding a glass of milk. Our marriage certificate lay on the coffee table in front of him. “We need to talk,” he said. I sat down across from him. “About today, I want to hear the full explanation.” His tone was calm, but his eyes were sharp. I truthfully recounted everything that happened at the cliffs, including the news of Arthur getting married. Liam listened quietly, his fingers tapping gently against his glass. “So, if he had really jumped today, what would you have done?” he asked. I didn’t know. I really didn’t know. The answer to this question terrified me. “I don’t know,” I said honestly. Liam took a sip of milk and set the glass down. “Chloe, this is the last time I will tolerate anything between you and Arthur. We are married, which means some things have to change.” “I understand.” “I’m not sure you really do.” He looked at me. “For the past three years, I’ve been waiting. Waiting for you to completely let him go, waiting for you to wholeheartedly choose me. Today, I gave you one last chance by letting you leave during the wedding. If you hadn’t come back, I would have canceled the wedding.” My heart tightened. “But you came back,” he continued. “So I’m willing to give us one more chance. But from now on, Arthur must completely exit our lives. Can you do that?” Could I? The question swirled in my mind. I’ve known Arthur for fifteen years, from our awkward middle school days to now. He was the entirety of my youth’s memories, my first crush, the person I once thought I’d spend the rest of my life with. “I can,” I said. Liam nodded, seemingly satisfied with this answer, but also seemingly not entirely convinced. “Then prove it to me.” On our first night as newlyweds, we slept in separate rooms. Liam said he still had some work to handle and slept in the guest room. I knew that wasn’t the real reason, but I didn’t push. Lying in the unfamiliar marital bed, I tossed and turned. My phone screen lit up and dimmed in the dark. Eventually, I picked it up. No new messages. Arthur hadn’t contacted me again. 4 The next morning, I was woken up by the sunlight. I checked the time; it was 7 AM. I got up, washed my face, and when I went downstairs, I found Liam already preparing breakfast in the kitchen. “Morning,” he said, handing me a glass of freshly squeezed orange juice. “How did you sleep?” “Alright,” I took the juice. “And you?” “The usual.” He plated the fried eggs. “Any plans for today?” According to our original plan, we were supposed to go on our honeymoon, a two-week trip to Europe. But now, I didn’t know if that plan was still on. “The honeymoon…” I started tentatively. “As scheduled.” Liam placed the plates on the dining table. “The flight is at 3 PM. We still have time to pack.” I looked at him in surprise. “Life goes on, Chloe,” he said. “I’m not going to change all our plans just because of what happened yesterday.” After breakfast, we packed our bags separately. During this time, my phone rang a few times; it was all congratulatory messages from friends and colleagues. I replied to them one by one. I didn’t see any messages from Arthur. Around noon, Liam’s mother suddenly visited. She hadn’t given any advance notice and just rang the doorbell. “I heard you two are still going on your honeymoon?” she asked directly after entering, her tone conveying disapproval. “Yes, Mom,” Liam answered calmly. “I think you should stay and deal with the issues left over from yesterday.” His mother looked at me. “Many relatives and friends are asking about what happened. We need a unified story.” “What unified story?” I asked. “Like, you suddenly left because you weren’t feeling well, or you got an urgent work call,” she said. “Not because your ex-boyfriend was going to jump into the ocean.” I felt a wave of suffocation. “There’s no need to make up excuses,” Liam said. “The facts are the facts.” “Liam!” His mother’s voice rose. “Do you know what your Uncle Miller said yesterday? He said the Vance family’s daughter-in-law ran off to see her ex-boyfriend at her own wedding. It’s an absolute joke!” “Then let them laugh,” Liam remained unmoved. “My marriage with Chloe doesn’t require an explanation to anyone.” His mother stared at him for a long time before finally sighing: “You’re always like this. From childhood to adulthood, once you make a decision, there’s no turning back. But this is different; this concerns the Vance family’s reputation.” “If the Vance family’s reputation is that fragile, then it wasn’t worth maintaining in the first place,” Liam said. That sentence completely silenced his mother. She picked up her bag and walked towards the door. “Do what you want. But remember, every choice has consequences.” After she left, the house returned to silence. Liam rubbed his temples, looking a bit tired. “I’m sorry,” I said. “I put you in a difficult position again.” “It’s not your fault,” he said. “My mother is just worried. But she’s right; every choice has consequences. We both need to be prepared.” At 2 PM, we left for the airport. On the way, Liam took a work call, while I looked at the rapidly receding street views out the window. This city held too many of my memories, and today, I was temporarily leaving it. Maybe this was a new beginning. While checking in, I saw a familiar figure. It was Arthur’s younger sister, Anna. She clearly saw me too. She hesitated for a moment, then walked over. “Chloe,” she said softly. “Can I talk to you in private for a minute?” I looked at Liam. He nodded: “I’ll go look at the magazines over there.” Anna pulled me aside. Her eyes were red and swollen, like she had been crying. “My brother is in the hospital.” My heart sank. “What happened?” “He started running a fever after coming back from the beach yesterday. This morning, I couldn’t reach him. When I went to his apartment, I found him unconscious.” Anna’s voice trembled. “The doctor said it’s a severe cold that turned into pneumonia, but he refuses to cooperate with the treatment and keeps calling your name.” “Which hospital is he at?” “City General.” Anna grabbed my hand. “Chloe, I know I shouldn’t bother you, especially since today is your second day of marriage. But I really don’t know who else to turn to. My brother… he’s in a very bad state.” Looking at Anna’s anxious face, I remembered the little girl who always used to follow us around all those years ago. Arthur’s parents died early, and he and his sister had only each other. This was also one of the reasons I could never completely cut ties with him. “I need to discuss this with my husband,” I said.

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When the zombie outbreak hit, my parents left to scout a new safe zone, leaving my boyfriend, Kevin, and my best friend behind to keep me company. “Don’t worry, Chloe. Once we confirm the new base is safe, we’ll come right back for you.” “We won’t abandon you. It’s too dangerous outside, sweetie. Stop being so stubborn.” My struggles were futile. I could only watch helplessly as they walked out the door. My food supply had run out long ago, yet my parents still hadn’t returned. Even my boyfriend and best friend had vanished without a trace. No one answered the walkie-talkie. Perhaps my parents had already fallen prey to the zombie hordes. Tortured by starvation and utter despair, I slit my wrists. After death, my soul ascended. Only to see Kevin right next door, making out passionately with my best friend. They were surrounded by food, much of it tossed aside after only a few bites. … “Are you really not going to bring Chloe any food? What if she starves to death?” My best friend lay in my boyfriend Kevin’s arms, her voice laced with the lazy satisfaction of someone who had just eaten her fill. Kevin sneered, his tone dripping with contempt: “Let her starve a little longer. Once her attitude improves, I’ll consider tossing her some scraps.” “If her parents weren’t billionaires before all this, and didn’t have access to an apocalypse bunker now, you think I’d look twice at her?” My best friend giggled: “Thank god those two old fools trust you so much now. They treat you like Chloe’s lifeline. They do whatever you say.” Hearing my best friend’s words, Kevin’s expression softened, a calculating look in his eyes: “But they still haven’t given me administrative access to the base.” “Do you think Chloe said something to them?” “Impossible. They won’t answer her walkie-talkie calls.” Kevin spoke with absolute certainty, surprising even my best friend: “They actually listen to you that much?” Hearing that my parents were still alive, tears involuntarily streamed down my face. When I couldn’t reach them on the walkie-talkie earlier, I thought they had already… Thank God. Thank God. Just then, Kevin’s walkie-talkie crackled to life. “How is Chloe doing?” It was my dad’s voice on the other end. Faced with my dad’s inquiry, lies rolled off Kevin’s tongue effortlessly: “She’s doing great. Just still throwing a tantrum, refusing to answer the walkie-talkie. I’m coaxing her right now.” Hearing Kevin say this, my dad snorted coldly on the other end: “She’s always been so immature. It was the right call not to bring her to the new base this time. She needs to starve a bit, teach her a lesson.” “Anyway, with you protecting her, Kevin, we are completely at ease.” So that was it. My parents intentionally left me behind. But what they probably never imagined was that the Kevin they trusted so much wasn’t protecting me at all. Instead, he was hooking up with my best friend, completely indifferent to whether I lived or died. And now he was sitting here lying to them. My parents were even making promises to Kevin: “Don’t worry. We see how much you care for Chloe. Once she learns her lesson and grows up a bit, I’ll hand over all administrative access of the new base to you two.” Saying this, my parents couldn’t see the malicious excitement in Kevin’s eyes. He thought that by controlling me, he was controlling my parents’ weak spot. But what he didn’t know was that I was already dead. In this apocalyptic world, who knows how many people, like me, had starved to death. Yet here they were, wasting food like this. Instinctively, I reached out to grab a discarded piece of food and bring it to my mouth. But alas, I had forgotten again. I was already dead. Yet, that piercing hunger hadn’t faded with death. Watching the food I couldn’t have being wasted by him made my eyes bloodshot with rage. “Guess it’s time to give Chloe a little taste of something sweet.” Kevin looked at the mess on the floor, his eyes lighting up. He lifted his foot to step on the food and called my best friend over to join him. “Babe, go grab a broom and sweep up this trash.” I looked at the food on the floor they were calling “trash.” Even covered in dust and shoe prints, I couldn’t help but swallow hard. I was so hungry. My best friend got tired of stomping on it. She sat on the sofa, looking at Kevin in confusion, asking him why he was collecting this trash: “Is this trash still useful?” Kevin smiled, but the words that came out of his mouth disgusted me: “We’re full, but Chloe hasn’t eaten yet. Didn’t her parents tell me to protect her well? I can’t let the living key to this base starve to death.” Hearing his words, my best friend got excited. She bounced off the sofa to grab the broom. As she swept up the trash, she asked Kevin eagerly: “Do you really think Chloe will eat this? She’s a rich girl. Before all this, she wouldn’t even touch a meal that cost less than a thousand dollars.” My best friend had swept the trash into a pile. Just as she was about to scoop it into a garbage bag, Kevin stopped her. Her face fell. “Hold on. Mr. Hayes has been so good to me… We obviously have to add a little something extra for Chloe.” With that, he spat a mouthful of saliva right into the pile of trash. My best friend immediately broke into a radiant smile, looking at Kevin teasingly: “You really are so good to Chloe.” “Of course. As long as I have her in my hands, I don’t have to worry about her parents not listening to me.” I watched this pair of adulterers scoop the “food” they were going to give me into a garbage bag. I followed Kevin next door, to the front of the apartment where my body lay. Kevin knocked on the door, his voice gentle and full of fake affection: “Babe, I brought back some food. It’s a little dirty, but given the circumstances, please don’t be picky.” No one answered from inside. Seeing no movement behind the door, Kevin’s demeanor grew impatient, though his voice remained gentle. “Open the door, babe. Don’t starve yourself just to spite me. It breaks my heart.” Watching Kevin’s hypocritical performance, I sneered inwardly. I wonder if he’ll still be able to keep up the act when he opens the door and sees my corpse. Seeing no reaction from inside, Kevin seemed to lose his patience. “Stop being so stubborn, Chloe. If you don’t come out now, I’m leaving.” Seeing that I still ignored him, his temper flared. He cursed under his breath, turned around, and dialed my dad on the walkie-talkie. “Mr. Hayes, please talk some sense into Chloe. She won’t eat the food I brought her, and she’s locked herself in her room out of spite.” “It’s my fault I’m useless, but this is already the best stuff I can find right now…” My father implicitly believed my boyfriend’s words and immediately started scolding loudly: “Why are you being so unreasonable? It’s one thing to be a little spoiled usually, but do you not realize this isn’t the time for your temper tantrums?” “Kevin is just too good to you. That’s why you dare to act so entitled.” Hearing my dad lecture me, Kevin looked completely in agreement, but his tone remained anxious: “Mr. Hayes, please don’t be too hard on Chloe. I do all of this for her willingly. I’m just worried about her health right now.” “Hmph! Kevin, ignore her. Let her fend for herself.” “Chloe, let me tell you, this is the only thing you’re getting to eat. If you don’t eat it, you can just starve yourself to death!” Hearing my father’s words, a chill ran down my spine. Did he really believe Kevin’s words that easily? Kevin said I was being unreasonable, so I became the unreasonable one. Did he forget what kind of person I originally was? But Dad, you don’t even understand your own daughter. Tears welled up in my eyes. The injustice and frustration in my heart weighed so heavily on me I couldn’t breathe. “Chloe isn’t the type to throw a tantrum without considering the situation. Did something happen?” My mom’s worried voice came through the phone. The hidden protectiveness in her words warmed my heart. The tears I had just managed to hold back instantly burst forth. “Mom, Kevin is lying to you! He killed me!” I screamed hoarsely. Tears flowed into my mouth, tasteless. They couldn’t hear my voice either. “How can you still say that! It’s because you always spoil her. A doting mother breeds a ruined child!” The sound of my mother crying softly came from the walkie-talkie. It felt like someone was squeezing my heart hard. After a long while, my mom seemed to have made up her mind and said: “Leave the food at the door and let her think about it. She’s only allowed in my base if she eats it. If she still won’t come out… When we get there, I’ll discipline her myself.” After saying that, my mom hung up the walkie-talkie. My boyfriend, with a smirk on his face, said: “Chloe, is it that you don’t want to see me? Are you still blaming us for not taking you with us?” “Now that your mom and dad are both angry, are you really going to refuse to eat? If you starve yourself to death, imagine how heartbroken they’d be.” With that, Kevin dropped the bag on the floor. The “food” inside spilled out. He looked at the mess at the door and smiled with satisfaction. Humming a tune, he went back next door. Seeing Kevin return, my best friend couldn’t wait to ask: “How did it go? Did she eat it?” Kevin shook his head and said: “Didn’t even open the door. Let’s see how long she can play tough.” Seeing Kevin’s expression, my best friend relaxed. “A person has to go 14 days without food to starve to death. It’s only the 7th day. She can still hold out for another 7 days.” “Another 7 days? She has to bow her head and submit to me today. Her parents are coming back.” “Perfect timing. While she’s half-dead and under my control, I can use her to get the base access.” Kevin was still here scheming about the base, but what he didn’t know was that I, the tool he planned to use to manipulate my parents, had already been starved to death by him. If my parents knew I was already dead, would they regret choosing to trust Kevin? Early the next morning, while Kevin and my best friend were still in bed, they were woken up by the walkie-talkie ringing: “Kevin, we’re downstairs.” My boyfriend was so startled by my father’s words that he shoved my best friend away. Putting on his clothes, he responded: “Mr. Hayes, how did you get back so fast? It’s so dangerous, why didn’t you wait for me to pick you up?” “I couldn’t wait any longer. Besides, everything is sorted out at the base. Chloe is being so unreasonable, I’m here to stand up for you.” Kevin quickly went downstairs and eagerly followed my parents to my door. My parents even held my best friend’s hand and said: “Good girl. Thanks for taking care of Chloe these past few days. When we get to the base, we’ll make it up to you.” The four of them walked together, a picture of harmony. Completely unaware that I, on the other side of the door, had long since begun to rot. When they all saw the pile of garbage on the floor outside my door—the so-called “food” brought for me. My dad frowned first, his face instantly turning cold. My mother’s face was also full of shock. Kevin’s eyes darted around. Just as he opened his mouth to explain: “Mr. Hayes, this…” My dad started pounding on the door directly: “Chloe, get out here and eat this off the floor right now!” “Do you know how precious food is right now? How dare you waste it like this!” My mother, who had originally been on my side, also pursed her lips, her face full of disapproval: “I was still defending you in front of your father. Your father is right, you’ve just been spoiled rotten!” I looked at my parents, who were accusing me without distinguishing right from wrong, and Kevin and my best friend, who were secretly rejoicing on the sidelines. My eyes were bloodshot. I bit my lip so hard it bled. It turns out that even in soul form, you can feel pain. “Chloe, let me tell you, if you don’t clean up this food you wasted today, I no longer have you as a daughter!” My parents continued to pound on the door. At this point, Kevin spoke up to explain for me: “This probably wasn’t Chloe’s doing. Even though she can be reckless when she throws a tantrum, she wouldn’t go so far as to…” My father grew even angrier upon hearing his words and shouted sternly: “Don’t speak up for her! Do you think I don’t know how she behaves? It’s just the few of us here. Are you saying I’m trying to frame her?” My mother chimed in, her brow furrowed tightly: “Kevin, we know you’re a good kid, but with her temper, if she doesn’t learn a lesson now, she’ll end up getting someone killed sooner or later…” My mother’s heart-aching attitude toward my boyfriend felt like a knife plunging into my heart. I didn’t want to care about anything anymore. I sat on the floor, crying my heart out. Who is your real child anyway? Was all the doting on me all these years fake? Have I always been an annoying person in your eyes? Now that I’m dead, you can finally breathe a sigh of relief, right? “Chloe, are you going to keep being stubborn?” The inside of the door remained silent, and it would never make a sound again. “Fine! Don’t even think about having a good life in my base from now on!” “Don’t worry, Kevin. When we get back, I’ll put you in charge of the base. I want you to grind down her temper hard. Don’t worry about her mother and me.” “Get the key and open the door. Since talking nicely doesn’t work, then we beat her!” My mother took out the key to unlock the door, still trying to persuade me: “Chloe, you’re being too unreasonable. Come out, eat this, and get on your knees and apologize to your dad…” The door opened a crack. My mother’s words caught in her throat. The scene inside broke her heart, her voice trembling: “Chloe…” “Chloe!” My mother stared into the room in disbelief, then shouted my name again loudly. The room was dead silent. No one responded to her call. “Getting more and more ill-mannered! Your mother is calling you, are you deaf?!” My father, separated by the door, couldn’t see inside, but not hearing my voice, he instinctively scolded. Kevin also spoke up, seemingly defending me, but his words only added fuel to the fire. “Mr. Hayes, please don’t be hard on Chloe. You guys didn’t take her with you to find the base; it’s normal for her to be upset. We just need to coax her a bit more.” My father, exactly as Kevin hoped, grew even angrier: “Taking her along would just be dead weight. Is she trying to get us all killed?” “Stop talking!” My mother’s tear-filled voice echoed through the entire hallway. “Chloe, she’s…” My mother choked halfway through her sentence, clamping her hand tightly over her mouth. “I told you not to interrupt when I’m disciplining my child. One more word and I’ll throw you out to feed the zombies. You’re all rebelling against me!” “Kevin, go drag her out. And no food for her either. It seems she’s not hungry at all. We’re heading straight back to the base.” “Let’s see how I teach you a lesson!” A flash of excitement crossed Kevin’s eyes, but he quickly hid it, stammering: “Mr. Hayes, this…” “Listen to me, go quickly!” Kevin didn’t say anything more. He stepped toward the door, pulled it open with one hand, and was frozen in place by the scene before him. He turned his head mechanically, looking at my sobbing mother next to him, and asked in a breathy whisper: “Chloe, she’s…” Dissatisfied with my boyfriend’s dawdling, my father urged him: “Hurry up! Drag her in front of me even if you have to. It’s even more dangerous when it gets dark. What a troublemaker.” My boyfriend still didn’t move. “Chloe is dead!” My mother roared this sentence through her tears and then fainted. Hearing the news of my death, my father frowned, looking completely incredulous: “There are no zombies in the room, how could she be dead? Stop acting. The more you protect her, the heavier I’ll punish her!” My best friend seemed to smell the stench of rot at this point and covered her nose: “Mr. Hayes, I think Chloe really is dead…” My father sneered and stepped toward my door. “You two are joining them in this act to fool me…” My father pushed past Kevin, who was standing at the door, and immediately saw me lying in the center of a pool of blood. A flash of panic crossed his face. He rushed a few steps into the room anxiously, but quickly regained his composure. “Trying to fool me with such a cheap trick.” He walked slowly toward my corpse, scolding as he went: “Do you know how many people have starved to death? And you dare to waste ketchup like this.” He stopped in front of me and snorted coldly: “Get up yourself. Don’t make me drag you up. Save yourself some dignity.” I lay motionless on the floor. “Chloe, you really don’t know how to appreciate a favor.” He grabbed my wrist and hoisted me up. He grabbed the hand I had used to slit my wrist. As he squeezed the wound, blood flowed out again. Looking at the fresh blood staining his hand, my father’s expression changed drastically. With the hand stained by my blood, he tremblingly reached out to check my breathing. Finding none, his posture collapsed. As if unwilling to give up, he reached out with a shaking hand to feel for my carotid artery. “Mr. Hayes… didn’t you smell the scent of blood in the room?” Seeing my father fall to his knees after hearing Kevin’s words, I smiled. Do you believe it now? The dead weight you spoke of, your willful daughter, is truly dead. Watching the expressions on the four of them, I felt a deep sense of sorrow. Kevin and my best friend looked guilty, their eyes darting around, not daring to look at my corpse on the floor at all. My father wore a stricken expression, kneeling silently beside my body. My mother was still unconscious. I don’t know if she fainted from the shock of seeing my corpse or for some other reason. It’s just as well. If I hadn’t died, I definitely would have had to eat that garbage tainted with my boyfriend’s spit. Even if I didn’t eat it, I would have had my head forced down to kneel and apologize. Thinking of this, I felt a sense of relief. At least in death, I wouldn’t be humiliated. My dignity wouldn’t be trampled on casually. “Chloe, wake up. Dad is taking you home.” My father recovered from his shock and gently shook my body, trying to wake me. I watched this scene with indifference, unable to muster any emotional response. My tears had dried up long ago. Now, I was left with nothing but hatred. Hatred for my boyfriend’s hypocrisy. Hatred for my best friend’s betrayal. Hatred for my parents easily believing Kevin, not even bothering to answer my walkie-talkie. “Mr. Hayes, Chloe is already dead!” My best friend couldn’t stand watching anymore. She reached out to help my father up but was forcefully shoved away. “Our Chloe is just sleeping.” “Mr. Hayes, I’m also heartbroken that Chloe died, but we have to stay strong and live on for her sake.” Kevin’s face was filled with sorrow, his eyes rimmed with red. He looked as if he was fighting back tears; his acting was phenomenal. “I think she wouldn’t want us to live in pain because of her.” After he said that, tears finally rolled down his cheeks. Seeing my father unresponsive to his words, Kevin spoke up as if making a difficult decision: “Don’t worry, Mr. Hayes. Even though Chloe is dead, I’m still your son-in-law. Once we return to the base, I’ll take care of you two for her.” I was disgusted by my boyfriend’s words. It’s a pity I had an empty stomach, otherwise I really would have thrown up all over his face. “Yes. I’m taking you back to our base, Chloe. It’s huge, safe, and has lots of good food. I even designed a princess room especially for you. You’ll definitely love it.” As my father finished speaking and prepared to lift my body horizontally, my boyfriend stopped him. “Chloe smells so strongly of blood. If we carry her out like this, what if we attract the zombies?” My father hesitated upon hearing Kevin’s words and slowly lowered my body back to the floor. “You’re right.” Kevin and my father spoke simultaneously. “Then we’ll leave Chloe…” “Then put Chloe in your pocket dimension and take her with us!” Before Kevin could finish, he was silenced by my father’s impending look of fury. “You actually wanted to leave Chloe here all alone?” “No, that’s not what I meant. Mr. Hayes, you misunderstood.” My dad eyed him suspiciously, then finally said: “Then store Chloe in your dimension.” “Mr. Hayes, it’s not that I don’t want to. It’s mainly because space in my dimension is limited. A whole person…” “Try it. If it doesn’t work, we’ll think of something else.” Kevin’s protests were futile. To ensure smooth entry into the base, he had no choice but to compromise. He closed his eyes and touched my body with his hand. My body vanished instantly. My boyfriend opened his eyes, discovering that he had indeed stored me in his dimension, and breathed a sigh of relief: “Mr. Hayes, Chloe is resting in my dimension. Let’s go.” I don’t know when my mother woke up. She saw a walkie-talkie not far away, its recording function still running… My mother picked up the walkie-talkie and heard my final words: “Mom, Dad, I’m sorry. The feeling of starving to death is too unbearable. Kevin and my best friend left together and vanished. I suspect they’ve betrayed me. And I don’t know if you two are dead or alive. I have no reason left to live…” My parents listened to the recording, looking suspiciously at Kevin and my best friend. My boyfriend’s face turned pale, and he hurriedly explained: “She… she’s Chloe’s best friend. I just thought I’d look out for her a bit more. Chloe must have misunderstood…” My father raised a hand, cutting off Kevin’s words, and strode toward the apartment next door. “Mr. Hayes, I…” My father ignored my best friend’s words as well. He shoved her aside as she tried to block him and walked straight into the house. Kevin chased after my father, shooting a glare at my best friend as he passed her. “Kevin, care to explain why the food we told you to bring for Chloe is in here, and why every single package is torn open with only a few bites taken?” My father clenched his fists, glaring sharply at Kevin. I knew this was the prelude to his fury. “Well, she said she had been starving for days. I thought Chloe couldn’t finish it all by herself, so I shared a little with her.” “Do you take me for a fool, Kevin?!” My father swung a punch at Kevin’s face, sending him stumbling backward. “I trusted you so much, and you completely deceived me. You never gave the food to Chloe.” “That’s not true, Mr. Hayes! I called out to Chloe to come eat, but she ignored me. I figured I had to wait for her to cool off before she’d open the door. Right! Didn’t I call you on the walkie-talkie? You know about that.” Hearing my boyfriend’s words, my father’s eyes practically shot fire. He kicked my boyfriend to the ground: “So you never even saw Chloe after that?” Panic flashed across Kevin’s face as he clung to my father’s pant leg: “It’s my fault Chloe is dead. If I had pushed harder for her to open the door that day, maybe I could have stopped her before she did something reckless.” “I’m useless. I couldn’t predict the future. Beat me to death, Mr. Hayes! Let me go keep Chloe company.” Seeing Kevin crying, snot and tears streaming down his face, my father looked utterly lost: “Chloe called me on the walkie-talkie.” Kevin’s crying stopped instantly. His face went deadly pale, and the hand gripping my father’s pant leg slowly went limp. “I listened to you. I didn’t answer, and I wouldn’t let her mother answer either.” My father looked with crushing disappointment at Kevin’s face, which was now filled with sudden panic, and his heart finally died completely. “When I picked Chloe up just now, she was as light as a piece of paper. There was nothing left but skin and bones.” “She must have been starving so badly, that’s why she called us on the walkie-talkie.” “I actually believed you when you said she’d act entitled and throw a tantrum because she saw someone supporting her.” “Not seeing us for so long, and unable to get through on the walkie-talkie, she must have thought we were dead. Chloe has always valued her relationships so much…” Tears streamed down my father’s face. As he finished speaking, he was struck down by his own conjecture. His body lost all strength, and he collapsed to the floor. Hearing my father’s words, my mother rushed over, sobbing sorrowfully. She weakly pounded my father’s chest with her hands: “Chloe knew the roads were dangerous. Even if she was terrified being left home alone, she never called us on the walkie-talkie.” “She must have been in a desperate situation to call us, yet you listened to an outsider! You refused to answer and wouldn’t let me answer either.” “You killed my daughter!” My best friend also followed them inside. She grabbed my mother’s hands, hugged her, and tried to comfort her: “Ma’am, Mr. Hayes meant well too. In the apocalypse, it’s survival of the fittest. Chloe wasn’t mentally strong enough. Going to heaven early to enjoy peace is a good thing.” “Don’t worry. Now that Chloe is gone, I will treat you and Mr. Hayes like my own biological parents.” My best friend’s hypocritical act snapped my mother out of her grief for her lost daughter. She viciously shoved my best friend away, raised her hand, and slapped her fake, twisted face. “How dare you say that? Did you and Kevin, you two ungrateful wolves, team up to drive my daughter to her death?” My best friend looked embarrassed and guiltily averted her eyes. “I’m going to kill you to avenge my Chloe!” “Enough! Chloe committed suicide; it has nothing to do with them. We’re returning to the base.” As soon as my mother spoke of revenge, my heart tightened. I turned to observe my boyfriend’s expression and, sure enough, I saw the murderous intent in his eyes. My father’s words made him relax. He suppressed the murderous intent, a flicker of suspicion passing through his eyes. “George, do you even have a heart? They killed your daughter!” My father looked at my mother’s hysterical state with deep disgust: “She’s right. Chloe wasn’t suited for surviving in the apocalypse. Going to heaven early to enjoy peace is for the best.” With that, he picked up my unconscious mother and walked away without another word. Seeing my father’s reaction, Kevin also dismissed his suspicions and moved to follow him. My best friend hurriedly followed, asking anxiously: “Are we really going with them? Out here, they can’t do anything to us, but once inside the base, they call the shots. Her mother explicitly said she wants to kill us.” My boyfriend smirked disdainfully and reassured my best friend: “Don’t worry. Women are just emotional. Luckily, her dad knows how to weigh the pros and cons. I’m a person with abilities. His daughter is dead and can’t be brought back to life; he might as well use his guilt to bind me to them.” “Besides, their daughter is still in my hands right now. If they dare try anything with me, I’ll make sure Chloe doesn’t even leave a corpse behind.” Hearing my boyfriend’s words, my best friend relaxed, her steps becoming lighter.

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The display shelf in my living room was empty. I stood in the living room dragging my suitcase, my hand still gripping the handle. I had been away on a business trip for seven days. When I left, the shelf held twelve Yixing clay teapots, six tea sets, and a pair of blue-and-white porcelain vases. Now—there was nothing. The dust was still there, but the items were gone. I put down my suitcase and walked towards the bedroom. The door to the walk-in closet was open. My row of designer bags—three Chanels, two Hermès, and a vintage leather handbag my mom left me—all gone. My phone chimed. A text message: Your package has been delivered. I hadn’t shipped any packages. I opened the shipping app and went to “Shipping History.” Fifty orders. Over the past seven days, fifty boxes had been shipped from this address. I scrolled down. Recipient: David Miller. My brother-in-law. The note section on the last order read just three words— “The rest of the books.” Our home office had over two thousand books. I put down my phone and walked to the doorway of the office. The bookshelves were empty. Only the nails remained. 1. I didn’t go into the office. I turned around and walked through every room in the house. The living room: The display shelf was empty, the speakers under the TV cabinet were gone, the floor lamp in the corner was gone, the clay teapots on the tea table were gone. The tea table was still there. The teapots were gone. Like a skeleton picked clean of its meat. The master bedroom: The walk-in closet was mostly cleared out. My bags, jewelry boxes, and that mink coat were all gone. Not a single thing belonging to my husband, Mark Miller, had been touched. The guest bedroom: The air conditioning unit had been uninstalled and taken away. The air conditioning unit. I stood at the doorway of the guest bedroom looking at the hole in the wall. The copper pipes had been cleanly severed, cut with professional tools. She had even called someone in to uninstall the AC. My daughter’s room. I pushed the door open. The piano was gone. That Yamaha grand piano cost $55,000. My daughter had been taking lessons for four years, practicing for two hours every day. The piano bench was still there, the music stand was still there, the metronome was still on the desk. The piano was gone. Four deep indentations on the hardwood floor, perfectly square. I squatted down and pressed my fingers against the indentations. Cold. I stood up and walked to the balcony. The plants on the balcony were also gone. Twelve pots of orchids. I had raised them for six years. The pots were still there. The soil was still there. The flowers were gone. Even the flowers. I walked back from the balcony to the living room and stood in front of the empty display shelf, and started counting. The items on the display shelf. The books in the office. The bags and jewelry in the closet. The AC in the guest room. My daughter’s piano. The orchids on the balcony. The speakers and lamp in the living room. This wasn’t “taking a few things.” This was moving out. Emptying my home. I took out my phone and reopened the shipping app. Fifty orders. Shipping times ranged from Monday to Sunday, six to eight orders every day. Monday: eight orders. Tuesday: seven orders. Wednesday: eight orders. Thursday: six orders. Friday: seven orders. Saturday: eight orders. Sunday: six orders. Shipping every single day. Every day. How did she manage it? The day I left for my business trip was an early Monday morning flight. She started on Monday. I called Mark. It rang five times before he picked up. “You’re back?” “Where are the things in the house?” “What things?” “The things on the display shelf. The books in the office. My bags. Our daughter’s piano. The speakers in the living room. The orchids on the balcony. The AC in the guest bedroom.” Silence. “Mark.” “…Mom said she wanted to declutter.” “Declutter? Fifty boxes shipped to your brother’s house is called decluttering?” More silence. A longer silence. “I didn’t know there was that much.” I hung up the phone. I stood in the middle of the living room and slowly turned in a circle. Where a painting used to hang on the wall, a nail was exposed. The hook was still there. The painting was gone. I had bought that painting at an art auction for $1,800. I took out a notebook and started writing. It wasn’t about staying calm. It was because I needed to confirm everything, item by item. To confirm exactly how much of my home had been gutted. With every item I wrote down, my grip tightened. By the time I reached the third page, I stopped. The tip of the pen pierced the paper, leaving a hole. Fifty boxes. Seven days. She treated this like a construction project. 2. Early the next morning, my mother-in-law, Helen Miller, called. “Chloe, you’re back? Are you tired? There are some ribs in the fridge, heat them up for yourself.” Her tone was exactly the same as usual. As if nothing had happened. “Mom, the things in the house—” “Oh, I did some tidying up. Keeping some old things around just takes up space, so I gave some to David.” Gave some. Fifty boxes is called “gave some.” “What about the piano? Mia’s piano.” “David’s son, Leo, wants to learn the piano too. Buying a new one is so expensive, and Mia is older now and doesn’t play as much—” “She practices for two hours every day.” “Kids, you know. She’ll stop practicing in a couple of years anyway.” I didn’t say anything. She continued: “We’re all family, don’t be so calculating. David’s financial situation isn’t great. As the older brother and sister-in-law, it’s only right that you help them out.” Only right. I’ve heard those two words for twelve years. The first year we were married, my mother-in-law asked us to provide the down payment for my brother-in-law’s house. “David’s financial situation isn’t great. It’s only right that you help him out.” Twenty thousand dollars. I didn’t say a word and gave it. The third year, my brother-in-law got married. My mother-in-law said the wedding funds weren’t enough and asked us to pitch in fifteen thousand dollars. “We’re all family, after all.” I gave it. The fifth year, my brother-in-law’s son was born. My mother-in-law stayed at his house to help with postpartum care for three months. When I gave birth to Mia, she came for a week, complained her back hurt, and left. The day my postpartum period ended, I got out of bed and heated up oatmeal for myself. The eighth year, Christmas. The gift my mother-in-law gave Leo was an iPad worth five hundred dollars. The gift she gave Mia was a twenty-dollar gift card. In front of the whole family. Mia looked at the gift card and didn’t say anything. On the way home, she asked me, “Mom, does Grandma not like me?” I said, “No, sweetie. It’s the thought that counts.” She said “Oh” and didn’t ask again. That night lying in bed, I told Mark about it. He said, “Mom probably just made a mistake, don’t overthink it.” I didn’t overthink it. The tenth year, I bought my mother-in-law a gold necklace for almost five hundred dollars. She accepted it and smiled very happily. “My eldest daughter-in-law is the most filial.” During Christmas, I saw that necklace around my sister-in-law Linda’s neck. I stared at that necklace for three seconds. Linda smiled and said, “Mom gave it to me, pretty isn’t it?” I said it was pretty. After returning home, I washed the dishes. I washed the dishes for four people. Then I washed the pots. Then I wiped the stove. Then I bagged the trash and took it to the door. Then I returned to the kitchen and dried my hands. There was a streak of dish soap foam on the back of my hand that I hadn’t wiped off. I stared at that streak of foam for a while. It’s fine. It’s not a big deal. Just a necklace. I turned on the faucet and rinsed the foam away. 3. I started looking into those fifty shipping orders. Not looking into the quantity—I already knew the quantity was fifty. I was looking into the weight. Every order on the shipping record had a weight. First order: 70 lbs. Shipping time: Monday morning, 9:17 AM. Second order: 61 lbs. Shipping time: Monday morning, 10:42 AM. Third order: 99 lbs. Note: Fragile items, reinforce packaging. This order was the porcelain. Fourth order: 112 lbs. Note: Oversized item. Fifth to eighth orders: Each order was over 65 lbs. On Monday alone, eight boxes, total weight: 632 lbs. A sixty-three-year-old woman moved 632 pounds of stuff in one day. She couldn’t have moved it alone. I checked the sender’s information. The sender was not Helen. It was David Miller. My brother-in-law came to move it himself. I scrolled down. Tuesday’s sender was also David. Wednesday—Linda. Thursday—David. Friday—Linda. Saturday—David. Sunday—David. The couple took turns coming. Coming to my house. Using my things to pack. Using packing materials bought with my money—yes, my storage room had leftover cardboard boxes and bubble wrap from my online shopping. And then shipping my things to their house. One week. Fifty boxes. A family of three—the mother-in-law directing, the brother-in-law hauling, the sister-in-law packing. Clear division of labor, extremely high efficiency. In my daughter’s room, the spot where the piano used to be was empty. I walked in. Four deep, perfectly square indentations on the floor. I stood next to the indentations for a while. What would Mia think when she came home from school and saw the piano was gone? The first thing she does every day after school is play the piano. She drops her backpack, sits on the bench, plays scales first, then the piece her teacher assigned. Lately, she’s been practicing Mozart’s K. 545. She practiced for two months and just got the first movement smooth. Just yesterday, she sent me a voice message saying, “Mom, I played exceptionally well today, my teacher praised me.” Now the piano is gone. I squatted down and covered one indentation with my palm. The indentation was larger than my palm. So deep that I couldn’t even scratch it smooth with my fingernail. That was pressed down by eight years of weight. Mia started learning the piano at three, now she’s eleven. Eight years. I stood up. I walked to the living room and opened my purchase history. This Yamaha grand piano, $55,000. Bought in 2017. Swiped on my card. I took a screenshot. Then I checked what my mother-in-law had bought for me. I thought about it for a long time. A pair of winter slippers. Last winter. “These slippers are too big for me, you can have them.” In twelve years, the only thing she gave me that I could remember was a pair of winter slippers that didn’t fit her. I bought her a gold necklace, she turned around and gave it to Linda. I bought her a cashmere sweater, the next time I visited she had put it on my brother-in-law. I transferred three hundred dollars to her every month for living expenses, she said “That’s enough, that’s enough,” but I saw she signed Leo up for three extracurricular classes. Mia only took one. Because “the eldest daughter-in-law’s family is well-off, they don’t lack this little bit of money.” I opened the memo app on my phone and started making a list. It wasn’t an impulse. It was because with every item I wrote down, it became clearer to me— In this family, there was never a “we’re all family.” There was only “mine” and “the Millers’.” And I wasn’t considered a Miller. 4. On the third day, I went to the HOA office. To check the security footage. The HOA employee, Jake, knew me. “Ms. Chloe, what are you looking for?” “The security footage at the entrance of my building from Monday to Sunday of last week.” Jake pulled it up. The footage was very clear. Monday morning, 8:50 AM, a white cargo van stopped at the entrance of the building. David got out of the van. Linda got out of the passenger side. My mother-in-law was waiting at the entrance and buzzed them in. 8:55 AM, the three of them went upstairs. 9:03 AM, David came out carrying the first box. 9:07 AM, Linda came out carrying the second. 9:11 AM, David came out hauling the third. One trip every four minutes. They were like professional movers, going back and forth. At noon, they stopped for an hour. Continued at 1:00 PM. Kept moving until 5:00 PM. Eight boxes, moved from morning till night. I watched all seven days of footage. Every day was exactly like this. The cargo van, the same one. David and Linda, the same couple. My mother-in-law directing upstairs, occasionally coming down to bring them water. Seven days. They didn’t rest for a single day. Like they were rushing to meet a deadline. I had Jake copy the footage onto a flash drive for me. Back home, I sat on the sofa in the living room. The sofa was still there. Probably because it was too heavy to move. I opened my laptop and continued recording. I had written three pages before; now I started doing something else—pricing every single item. The clay teapots on the display shelf, twelve of them. The most expensive one was made by a master’s apprentice, $3,800. The cheapest one was $180. I checked the purchase history for each one. Twelve teapots, total price: $12,600. Six tea sets. Two of them were Jian ware, $2,200 a set. The other four sets totaled over $1,500. Total price: $6,300. A pair of blue-and-white porcelain vases. Bought at an art auction, $4,600 for the pair. The books in the home office. Over two thousand of them. It’s hard to calculate a unit price for these, but I remember when we moved in, the moving company charged by weight, and the books alone cost $260 in moving fees. A conservative estimate: over two thousand books, average price $12, that’s $24,000. The bags in the walk-in closet. Three Chanels, two Hermès, one vintage leather handbag. I have the purchase history for the Chanels. A Classic Flap, $8,500. A 2.55 Reissue, $6,800. A Gabrielle hobo, $4,700. Hermès: A Birkin, $17,500. A Kelly, $14,200. That vintage leather handbag my mom left me— I paused. That bag was given to me by my mom before she passed away. She said it was the first genuine leather bag she bought when she was young by saving every penny. It actually wasn’t worth much; the leather was old, and the zipper was a bit stiff. But it was my mom’s. I kept it in the deepest cubby of the walk-in closet. It was also taken. I continued calculating. I couldn’t stop. If I stopped, I wouldn’t want to calculate anymore. AC unit, a 3-ton floor-standing unit, $1,100. Speakers, JBL floor-standing speakers, $2,200. Painting, from an art auction, $1,800. Floor lamp, Italian brand, $900. Twelve pots of orchids, including three premium orchids, one of which was over $800. Piano, $55,000. Mink coat, $6,000. Items in the jewelry box—I made a list: gold, jade, diamond pendants. Totaling over $16,000. This is only the documented part of these fifty boxes. There were also many small items: tableware, cups, ornaments, blankets, towels, kitchen supplies—I couldn’t look up the purchase history for these one by one. But just the part with verifiable receipts already exceeded $175,000. And I had a premonition— These fifty boxes weren’t everything. My mother-in-law had lived in my house for twelve years; there was no way to track how many little things she had taken. But the fifty boxes were out in the open. $175,000 was the minimum figure. And this didn’t even include the home renovations.

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After my divorce, I washed off my ugly makeup and posted a bare-faced selfie online, jokingly asking for a date. The post broke the internet, hitting number one on trending. Countless people flooded my comment section. [Is this level of gorgeous even real? Not even AI could render a face this perfect.] [Look at me! 6’2″, college athlete. I’m not a creep, I just genuinely want to give this goddess a home.] [Oh my god, I wouldn’t even dare to dream of looking like this. You must have been sculpted by the gods themselves!] In a flash, the photo went incredibly viral. A-list actors, wealthy heirs, and Wall Street elites all started reaching out, trying to court me. Even my ex-husband, Connor Sterling, had his phone blown up by his buddies. One of his fellow officers complained, “Commander, if I’d known my sister-in-law was this breathtaking, you should have left her for one of your brothers in arms!” Connor violently crushed the whiskey glass in his hand, his eyes bloodshot, and sped all the way back to our house to find me. But in the home we once shared, there was no longer a single trace of me. I remembered what my mother told me on her deathbed three years ago: “For a girl without power, having only beauty is a disaster.” From that day on, I wore thick, black-rimmed glasses, applied dark, dull foundation, and intentionally made myself look as unattractive as possible. My father arranged countless blind dates for me, and every single man ran for the hills because of my looks. Only Connor Sterling never showed a hint of disgust. He ignored the strange, mocking looks from everyone around us and proposed to me. Everyone said I married completely out of my league. They said that with my hideous face, marrying into the prestigious Sterling family was a stroke of miraculous luck. I believed them. I thought he didn’t care about appearances. I thought he loved my soul. That was, until the joint tactical exercise on the border went wrong, and an out-of-control armored vehicle barreled toward me. Connor shoved me out of the way, taking the brunt of the explosive shockwave himself. He was critically injured and fell into a coma. I stumbled and crawled my way to the base hospital, only to freeze outside his room when I heard his mother’s furious voice through the cracked door: “Connor, you brought home a hideous wife and made us the laughingstock of the entire base! And now you dare to risk your life to protect her? How long are you going to keep up this rebellious phase?!” There was a moment of silence inside before Connor’s calm, steady voice replied: “Mom, you know exactly what I want.” “I know this is all for Serena!” Mrs. Sterling’s voice trembled. “She was just a performer in the military PR division, and her family is ruined! She could never marry into the Sterling family! Marrying Avery just to spite us won’t change a thing!” I leaned against the freezing hospital wall, my entire body going numb. Serena… who was Serena? With trembling hands, I pulled out my phone and texted a friend in military intelligence: [Run a background check on Connor Sterling and Serena Vance.] The file came through quickly. Serena Vance. Lead dancer for the military’s public relations and performance troupe. Connor’s first love. They were the golden couple in everyone’s eyes, childhood sweethearts, a match made in heaven. Three years ago, when they were discussing marriage, Serena’s father was investigated for severe financial fraud. Fearing the scandal would taint their reputation, the Sterling family vehemently opposed the marriage. Connor fought for her, so his family pulled strings to have Serena deployed to a remote, desolate base. The two ultimately broke up. After that, Connor went on a string of blind dates, brushing off every single woman. Until he met me—the intentionally ugly girl—at a military mixer. It turned out that he chose me simply to rebel against his family. To force them into accepting Serena. I looked down at the glowing screen and suddenly let out a broken laugh. My mother was terrified that I would be deceived because of my beauty. But as an ugly girl, I was deceived all the same. And the deception was even more absurd, even more thorough. For the past three years, he tied my shoelaces, stood guard with me in the cold, and remembered every casual remark I made… It was all just a show. A performance staged for the Sterling family. I wiped away my tears and dialed Mrs. Sterling’s number. “I want a divorce from Connor.” “What?” Mrs. Sterling sounded utterly shocked. “Avery, with that ghastly face of yours, who else would ever want you if you leave the Sterling family?” “What I look like is none of your concern. This divorce is happening.” “If the Sterling family refuses, I’ll file a formal complaint with the JAG and the base commander. If this blows up, it’ll look bad for everyone.” The line went dead silent for a long time. Finally, a cold, hard voice replied: “Fine. I will handle the divorce paperwork.” I hung up, immediately discharged myself from the hospital, and headed straight back to the officer’s estate. The moment I walked through the door, I started packing. The velvet box holding his commendation medals, the custom tactical watch he bought me, and even the simple silver band that symbolized our marriage… I threw all of it into the trash. Like throwing away a three-year-long fever dream. A few days later, Connor was discharged from the hospital and returned home. His voice still carried the raspy grit from his injuries, but his tone was as gentle as ever: “Tonight is your birthday. I booked a table at the Officer’s Club. It’s still early, so let me take you to pick out a formal dress first, alright?” “Alright,” I answered softly. He drove me to a high-end luxury boutique downtown. As soon as we walked in, his phone rang. “Look around first. I have to take this,” he said. I nodded and walked alone toward the racks of designer clothing. My eyes landed on a light khaki, belted dress. The style was minimalist, the fabric crisp and structured. “Could you grab this one for me?” I asked the sales associate. “I’ll take that one.” A clear, bright female voice rang out from behind me. I turned around and saw the face from the intelligence file. It was Serena. She was even more radiant in person. Even wearing casual clothes, her posture was impeccably straight and elegant. “Excuse me,” Serena stepped forward, her tone polite but yielding no ground. “I had my eye on this piece as well. Even though you were here first…” Her gaze swept over my thick black-rimmed glasses and my baggy, faded cargo pants. She smiled faintly. “I just feel it suits my vibe better. Would you mind letting me have it?” “I mind,” I said, turning back to the clerk. “Wrap it up for me.” Serena reached out and grabbed the hanger, holding it firmly. “Miss, clothes are all about who wears them. You usually wear tactical gear; buying a dress like this is a waste. Why not just let me have it?” We both held onto the dress, neither willing to let go. “What’s going on?” Connor’s voice drifted over from the staircase. He had finished his call and was walking up. Seeing the standoff, his brow twitched slightly. Serena’s eyes lit up instantly. Her hand still gripped the hanger. “Connor! What a coincidence.” Her gaze bounced between me and Connor, and then she put on a look of sudden realization. “Oh, so this is your wife. If you had just said you were the Commander’s family, I wouldn’t have fought you for it. Let Mrs. Sterling have the dress.” She let go. But in the very next second, Connor took the dress from my hands and handed it directly to Serena. “You don’t need to yield,” he told Serena, his voice noticeably softer. “It should fit you perfectly. Go try it on.” A flash of triumph crossed Serena’s eyes as she took the dress and walked into the fitting room. Connor finally turned to look at me. “Avery, that’s Serena. An old comrade from the PR division. She’s blunt, but she doesn’t mean any harm. It’s just a piece of clothing. There’s no need to fight over it. We’ll pick something else.” I swallowed the heavy lump in my throat, turned to another rack, and casually grabbed a plain, dark blue dress. Just then, the fitting room door opened, and Serena stepped out. The light khaki dress hugged her figure perfectly, complementing her pale skin. She looked sharp, elegant, and radiant. The sales associate whispered in awe, “Ms. Vance, you look absolutely stunning.” Connor’s eyes were fixed on her as well. “Connor, how does it look?” Serena asked with a smile, her gaze casually drifting over to where I stood. “Yeah. It looks great,” Connor nodded. Serena walked up to him and naturally adjusted his shirt cuff. “Oh, by the way, I heard tonight is Mrs. Sterling’s birthday.” “It is,” Connor replied. “I happen to have the night off from performances,” Serena said, looking at me with a flawless, polite smile. “If Mrs. Sterling doesn’t mind, I’d love to come and celebrate with you.” I didn’t say a word. Connor spoke for me: “We don’t mind. Come along.” Chapter 2 The banquet hall at the Officer’s Club was brilliantly lit. The birthday dinner Connor threw for me was incredibly high-profile. He had invited almost all the top brass from the base. I stood next to him in my plain, dark blue dress, looking like a dusty, out-of-place prop. As the banquet began, Connor publicly handed me a velvet box. Inside was a finely crafted, honorary military insignia pin. Gasps of envy echoed through the room. “Thank you,” I took it, my voice perfectly flat. Serena arrived a little late. The moment she walked in, she stole the room’s attention. The khaki dress highlighted her elegant posture, and her bright smile made it seem as though she was the true center of the evening. “Sorry, rehearsal ran late,” she said, walking up to me with effortless charm. “I didn’t bring a gift, so I’ll just play a song on the piano for Mrs. Sterling’s birthday.” With that, she looked at Connor. “Connor, it’s been a while since we played together. Duet?” Connor glanced at me—standing there in silence—and actually stood up and walked over to the grand piano. They sat side by side on the bench. A four-hand duet, the melody flowing seamlessly. One with authoritative military epaulets, the other with flying, graceful fingertips. The picture they painted was breathtakingly harmonious. The whispers of the crowd drifted into my ears: “Now that is a woman worthy of the Commander…” “If only the Vance family hadn’t fallen into disgrace…” “The current wife is just way too ugly. Seeing them stand next to each other makes me cringe…” Every word was like a tiny needle stabbing into my heart. I turned and walked out to the balcony. Footsteps followed behind me, and soon, a pair of hands gently wrapped around my shoulders. “Why did you come out here?” Connor’s voice murmured in my ear. “Don’t listen to what they’re saying.” Suddenly, the balcony doors were pushed open. Serena stood in the doorway, her face pale, a layer of tears glistening in her eyes. “Sorry to interrupt,” she said, her voice trembling slightly. She turned and ran. Connor immediately dropped his arms from my shoulders. “I’ll go check on her.” He hurried after her. I didn’t want to stay in that building for another second. Just as I reached the driveway outside the club, a figure blocked my path—it was Serena. “Leaving so early, Mrs. Sterling? Is it because Connor chased after me?” I had no desire to engage. I turned sideways to walk past her. “Wait.” Serena blocked me again. “There are some things you need to know. Like the real reason Connor married you—” “Get out of my way!” She reached out and grabbed my wrist. “He doesn’t even—” We struggled. Suddenly, Serena’s foot slipped. With a shriek, she fell backward, dragging me down with her, causing us both to lose our balance. The screech of tires pierced the night. Agonizing pain exploded across my forehead and cheek. Warm blood instantly blurred my vision. In the chaos, all I could hear was Serena screaming. Right before I lost consciousness, I thought I saw Connor sprinting toward us. On that face that was always so irritatingly calm, I actually saw a flicker of raw panic. Then, I heard fragmented snippets of a conversation, sounding like they were coming from a million miles away. “Commander, both victims require immediate surgery, but the medevac pod only has room for one.” “Your wife has a severe facial laceration. If we don’t treat it now, it will permanently scar.” “Ms. Vance has sustained trauma to her hand. Delaying treatment will affect her ability to play the piano.” Then, I heard Connor’s voice. “Save Serena first. Her hands cannot be ruined.” “But your wife…” “Her looks don’t matter to her.” Don’t matter. Those three words crushed the very last shred of hope I had left. I sank completely into the darkness. When I woke up, I was in the base hospital. The door was pushed open, and Serena walked in, flanked by a few girls from the performance troupe. “Avery, I heard your face took quite a hit. I thought you were definitely going to be disfigured this time.” “The military surgeons the Sterling family brought in are top-tier. I can’t believe they managed to salvage it.” “Well, they saved it, but it’s still the same old ugly face.” A chorus of low giggles echoed from behind her. I closed my eyes. “Get out.” A girl in dance wear immediately snapped back, “What’s with the attitude? Serena came to check on you out of the goodness of her heart!” I opened my eyes and glared at Serena. “Take your dogs and get the hell out of my room.” “Who are you calling a dog?!” The dancer raised her hand, ready to slap me. “Brianna, don’t hit a patient. It looks bad.” A tall man stopped her. He turned, looked me up and down, and smirked. “Mrs. Sterling has quite the temper. But I specialize in fixing bad attitudes.” He took two steps forward, looming over my hospital bed. His gaze was sticky and violating. “I’ve seen plenty of women like you. Ugly, but full of venom. You just need a real man to put you in your place.” He suddenly reached out to rip the blankets off me. “Get away from me!” I struggled desperately. But the man pinned my shoulder down with one hand and used the other to violently tear the collar of my hospital gown, exposing my pale skin. “The face is trash, but the body ain’t half bad.” “Let go! Help!” I fought with everything I had, but the people around him just laughed. The dancer, Brianna, even pulled out her phone to record it. Pure desperation rushed to my head. I grabbed the heavy metal military canteen from my nightstand and smashed it as hard as I could against the man’s head. “Bang!” A scream of agony mixed with the sound of impact. At that exact moment, a nurse walked in carrying a tray of medications. She shrieked: “MPs! Call the Military Police!” Chapter 3 Inside the Military Police station, Serena’s group and I were separated for questioning. Serena’s crew all had the exact same story: they claimed I maliciously attacked him. I insisted it was self-defense, but no one believed me— Who would believe a man was trying to sexually assault a hideous woman? Soon, Connor arrived, accompanied by an officer from the JAG (Judge Advocate General) office. The MP Chief personally briefed him: “Commander, the statements conflict. According to protocol, we need to issue a resolution…” Connor was silent for a long moment. The interrogation room was suffocatingly quiet. Finally, he spoke, his voice steady and calm: “Derek’s actions were extreme, but an accusation of attempted sexual assault… Avery, Derek has a fiancée. He has no reason to target you…” He turned to the Chief, his tone flat but carrying undeniable authority: “Derek’s injuries are severe; send him to the hospital for a forensic medical evaluation.” “Avery is emotionally unstable and needs to calm down. Since a formal report was filed, process this as disturbing the peace. Put her in the holding cell for a few days to reflect.” My chest felt like it had been violently ripped open. It hurt more than the wounds on my face. The MP Chief immediately understood the subtext: “Yes, Sir. We will escort Officer Derek and Ms. Vance out.” Then, switching to a rigid, bureaucratic tone, he turned to me: “Avery, on the grounds of suspected battery and disturbing the peace, you are hereby placed in the brig.” I was dragged into the holding cell. Serena, of course, didn’t let me off the hook. The next seven days were absolute purgatory. A freezing, damp cell. Moldy bread. Cellmates who intentionally provoked and attacked me. Being splashed awake with freezing water in the middle of the night. My unhealed wounds being roughly handled. The torment was endless. On the day I was finally released, I received a phone call from Mrs. Sterling. “Avery, the divorce has been approved by the military command. From this day forward, you have absolutely nothing to do with Connor, or the Sterling family.” “Your father will receive a severance package. Do not contact us ever again.” I hung up the phone, hailed a cab, and rode back to the officer’s estate. Without alerting a single soul, I walked straight upstairs to my bedroom and did three things: First, I packed all of my personal belongings. Second, I washed my face, scrubbing away every trace of the dark, dull foundation. As the steam cleared from the mirror, it revealed a stunningly radiant, breathtaking face. Third, I used my phone to book a ticket on the earliest commercial flight out of the city. I took a cab to the airport, printed my boarding pass, and went through security. While waiting at the gate, I kept my head slightly lowered, but my bare, unmade-up face still drew countless stares. I ignored them completely. The plane soared into the clouds, leaving this city built on lies far, far behind me. But I didn’t know that shortly after I boarded, sneak-shots taken of me at the airport had rapidly surfaced on local social media networks and were spreading like wildfire. #AirportGoddessInCargoPants #IsThisFaceEvenReal #FindHerInfoIn5Mins #EvenSerenaVanceCantCompareToThis The photos went incredibly viral. The entire internet was trying to track down this stunning figure. And very quickly, my true identity was dug up, piece by piece… Chapter 4 Eventually, a shocking piece of news exploded across the military’s internal forums— “Is this… Commander Sterling’s ‘hideous’ ex-wife, Avery?!” The entire base was shaken to its core. Immediately following, media outlets with military ties dug up the history: Avery’s mother was once the most brilliant lead dancer in the base’s performance troupe. After marrying beneath her station, she suffered years of emotional abuse from her husband and eventually died of severe depression. On her deathbed, she gripped her daughter’s hand and repeatedly warned her: “Hide your face.” Connecting this to the fact that Avery had spent over a decade intentionally making herself look ugly, a viral feature article titled A Mother’s Fading Life, A Daughter Hiding Her Face for Over a Decade rapidly circulated online. The details were grounded in truth, the tone emotionally restrained, yet it triggered a massive public outcry. When the scandal reached its absolute peak, Connor was in the command center, leading the deployment for a major cross-regional tactical exercise. A tactical officer, looking deeply nervous, walked briskly into the room and gently placed an internal briefing on the desk in front of him. “Commander, you need to see this… It’s about Avery…” Connor frowned slightly, his eyes dropping to the briefing. He froze. On the document was the high-definition candid photo taken at the airport. No thick glasses. No dark, muddy skin. Her skin was flawless, her features sharp and picturesque. A straight nose, naturally pink lips. It was her. And yet, it was entirely not her. This was Avery. This was the wife he had brought home for three years, yet had never truly seen. Connor’s pupils contracted violently. He stared at the photo, then rapidly scanned the text below detailing her mother’s tragic history and the psychological analysis of why she had hidden her face for so many years. His heart felt like it was seized by an invisible, crushing hand. The command center was dead silent. Every officer held their breath, watching their usually unshakable, stoic commander display a look of near-blank, absolute shock for the very first time. “Pause the exercise.” He grabbed the briefing and strode out of the command center without looking back.

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After a night of intimacy, my battalion commander husband pulled up his pants and vanished for three days. The next time I heard news of him, it was a celebratory announcement from military command. Arthur Vance had been awarded a first-class merit. Only then did I learn that his disappearance over the past few days was to rescue his childhood sweetheart. Rumor had it that when he returned, he was covered in injuries and had nearly died. The following day, Private Chen, a communications orderly, hurriedly pushed open the door to our base housing: “Dr. Miller! The Commander is refusing to let us treat his wounds at the medical tent. The pain is unbearable, but he says he only wants the soothing tea you make.” For Arthur, this was a rare display of weakness. I huddled on my cot, flipping through a combat trauma care manual, and didn’t even look up: “I don’t know how to make it.” Private Chen paced anxiously: “The Commander got hurt providing cover for a comrade!” “Cover for whom? Emily Davis?” I cut him off. “She was there, wasn’t she? Tell her to do it.” Over the next few days, Arthur’s subordinates took turns trying to persuade me. “Ma’am, there’s no such thing as an overnight grudge between husband and wife.” “The Commander has been thinking of you constantly.” My answer remained the same: “I don’t have time. Go find Emily.” … When Arthur finally returned, it was the evening of the third day. He stood in the doorway, his face pale, suppressing a storm of anger and confusion in his eyes: “Chloe, are you really this cold-hearted?” I turned to meet his gaze, my tone flat and icy: “Isn’t Emily taking care of you? Why should I go make a mess of things and be an eyesore?” Arthur’s chest heaved violently: “Are you still holding a grudge about last time?” Holding a grudge? I was in emergency surgery for four days. The shrapnel in my abdomen was two millimeters away from my kidney. And in his mouth, it had become “holding a grudge.” At the time, a sudden firefight broke out at the border. As the unit’s embedded medical officer, I was treating the wounded on the front lines. A stray bullet hit nearby, and the blast wave threw me to the ground. Blood poured from my abdomen. The comms channel was filled with the hoarse shouts of my comrades, but Arthur, who was at the command post barely a hundred yards away, never moved. I found out later that Emily had suffered an asthma attack at the rear camp. He abandoned the defensive line during an intense firefight, scooped her up, and rushed her to the medical tent. A week later, I was transferred to a regular ward. Arthur pushed the door open in his combat uniform, impatience knitting his brows: “Chloe, are you done playing the martyr?” He threw a bag of cold steamed buns onto the nightstand, his tone rigid. “The doctor said it missed your vitals, so stop hogging a bed. The camp is swamped; no one has the free time to orbit around you all day.” I looked down at the blood-soaked bandages on my abdomen. Every breath pulled at my nerves with a sharp ache. Seeing me silent, Arthur’s frown deepened: “Will you only be satisfied when the whole battalion thinks I’m mistreating my wife?” “Emily has a weak constitution; she can’t handle shocks.” “You’re a combat medic. You see life and death all the time. Is it really necessary to cling to a minor injury like this?” My heart felt like it had been thrown into an ice cellar, the chill piercing my bones. I looked up at him, my eyes as still as stagnant water. Arthur froze. Suddenly, the two-way radio on his belt crackled to life, and Emily’s tearful voice came through: “Arthur, I think I hear movement outside the camp… I’m so scared…” Arthur’s tone instantly softened enough to wring water from it: “Don’t be afraid. Lock the door. I’ll be right there.” Cutting the comms, his gaze returned to its cold, hard state when he looked at me. “Process your own discharge. Emily needs someone with her.” I lowered my eyes, staring at the bruised puncture marks on the back of my hand from the IV lines: “Go ahead.” Arthur was enraged by my indifferent demeanor. But ultimately, his concern for Emily won out. He turned and strode away, leaving the hospital room in dead silence. I pulled out my IV needle and dialed the recruitment office for the International Rescue Corps. The voice on the other end was filled with joy: “Dr. Miller, you’ve finally decided! The final roster for the rescue medical team hasn’t been submitted yet, so there’s plenty of time for you to join. But this deployment is for at least five years, stationed in active conflict zones. It’s incredibly dangerous. What about your family…” I looked out the window at the dark, oppressive clouds, a storm brewing: “I accept. This is a personal decision and has nothing to do with my family.” After a pause, I added, “He and I will soon have no relationship anyway.” My lawyer was extremely efficient. Half an hour later, the digital copy of the divorce agreement arrived in my inbox. Years ago, to reassure me about following him on deployments, Arthur had signed a blank agreement, giving me the freedom to leave at any time. I twitched my lips into a cynical smile. I hadn’t expected this day to come so soon. Chapter 2 The next day, military command held a victory banquet at the guest house. Amidst the clinking of glasses, no one noticed that I, the wife of the honored commander, was as pale as paper. Emily, as a special guest, sat beside Arthur, obediently pouring drinks for the high-ranking officers, looking very much like the lady of the house. Suddenly, Emily let out a low gasp, drawing everyone’s attention. She was holding a fountain pen; the nib was bent, and ink had stained the hem of her uniform skirt. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” Emily’s eyes reddened as she looked at me timidly. “I saw this pen drop on the floor and wanted to pick it up, but I accidentally stepped on it… Chloe, please don’t be mad at me?” It was my father’s memento. He had been a peacekeeping medical officer. After he died in the line of duty, this was the only thing he left me. I valued it more than my life and never allowed anyone else to touch it. I abruptly stood up, walked over quickly, and with trembling hands, picked up the deformed pen. “It’s just an old pen.” Seeing my face change drastically, Arthur instinctively shielded Emily behind him. “I’ll buy you a new one later.” My usually gentle eyes were now bloodshot: “This is what my father left me. Arthur, you know that.” Arthur was momentarily stunned by my glare, a trace of panic flashing in his heart, Which was immediately covered by the annoyance of losing face in public: “Emily didn’t do it on purpose. Why are you being so aggressive and ruining the mood for everyone?” I clenched the fountain pen tightly, the broken nib piercing my palm. Blood dripped through my fingers: “Fine, I won’t hold a grudge. Have her drink this glass of alcohol, and we’ll call it even.” I pointed to a full glass of high-proof liquor on the table. Emily’s face went white, and she clutched her chest: “Arthur, my heart isn’t good, I can’t drink…” Arthur’s eyes completely iced over: “Chloe, you know her body can’t handle it!” He slammed the glass down heavily in front of me, “You want someone to drink it? You drink it for her. Drink it, and we turn the page.” The entire room fell dead silent. Everyone knew my stomach had been severely injured. During the last mission, just a drop of alcohol had triggered massive internal bleeding, and I had barely survived after emergency resuscitation. The doctor’s orders were explicit: absolute prohibition of alcohol. Arthur glared at me: “Are you going to drink or not? If not, get out, and don’t ever come back.” He was certain I wouldn’t leave, certain I couldn’t bear to give up these five years of life as a military spouse. But I smiled. A smile that made Arthur’s heart skip a beat for no reason. “Alright. I’ll drink it.” I picked up the glass and downed it in one gulp. The strong liquor burned my esophagus and stomach lining. All color drained from my face, and cold sweat broke out. I put the blood-stained fountain pen into my pocket, my voice so light it seemed it would dissipate: “Arthur, this is the last time.” “Not just for forgiveness, but also the last time in these five years that I will degrade myself.” Violent cramps made my vision go dark. I gritted my teeth, not letting out a single groan. My phone vibrated in my pocket. It was the approval notification from the Rescue Corps: “Comrade Chloe Miller, your application has been approved. Please report to the airport for assembly at 9:00 AM this Friday.” Chapter 3 I turned off the screen and, under Arthur’s complex gaze, turned and walked out of the banquet hall. Severe stomach pain hit me. I leaned against the revolving door and collapsed to my knees. When I woke up again, I was in the IV room of the military hospital. The door pushed open, and Arthur walked in carrying an insulated lunchbox. His eyes were heavily bloodshot, looking as if he hadn’t slept all night. “You’re awake? I brought you some soup.” He sat on the edge of the bed and tried to take my hand, but I silently pulled away. Arthur’s hand froze in mid-air, then slowly retracted: “The doctor said you need bed rest. I’ve handed over camp duties to the deputy commander. I’ll stay with you.” “I was speaking in anger last night. I didn’t know you were hurt this badly. Why didn’t you say anything?” I looked at him with the unfamiliarity of a stranger. Arthur began to panic, desperately wanting to grasp onto something: “Chloe, when you’re better, let’s have a child.” “Didn’t you always want one before?” “I asked the doctor. Emily can’t have children. We’ll have one, and let her be the godmother.” I froze, then laughed out loud, the vibration pulling at the cramps in my stomach: “Arthur, forget about the child. I don’t want my child calling someone else ‘mother’.” A familiar frustration surged in Arthur’s heart. He felt he had already bowed his head and compromised, yet I was still being unforgiving: “Chloe, do you have to be so prickly with every word? I’m willing to make it up to you. What more do you want?” I didn’t answer, my gaze falling on the calendar by the bed. Three more days. On the day of my discharge, Arthur specially drove a military vehicle to pick me up: “There’s an academic military commendation ceremony today. Command specifically asked for you to attend.” “Your previous ‘Modified Protocol for Emergency Treatment of Battlefield Trauma’ is highly regarded by the higher-ups.” A ripple finally appeared in my dead eyes. That paper was the result of my blood, sweat, and tears, born from eight months of analyzing thousands of field medical records. Arriving at the auditorium, Arthur left me backstage: “Wait here a moment. I’m going to the front to make arrangements.” I stood behind the curtain, listening to the thunderous applause from the front as the host’s enthusiastic voice echoed: “Now, please welcome the winner of this year’s ‘Strong Army Cup’ academic gold medal, Comrade Emily Davis, to the stage to share her award-winning paper, ‘Modified Protocol for Emergency Treatment of Battlefield Trauma’!” My mind went completely blank. On the large screen’s presentation, every chart, every data annotation, even the rough sketches in the margins of the manuscript, were exactly the same as my paper. That was my life’s work, but the author was listed as Emily. I don’t know how I walked onto the stage, but I snatched the microphone: “This paper is mine! The raw data is on my computer, and the experimental logs are in my filing cabinet. Emily, you can’t even pronounce the basic terminology correctly, and you dare to accept this award?” Chapter 4 Emily’s eyes instantly turned red, tears falling: “Chloe, I know you’re jealous that I get to stay at headquarters, but I stayed up all night researching and writing this paper. How can you lie just to frame me?” “Whether it’s a lie can be easily verified.” I looked toward the commanders’ seats. “I request a thorough investigation by military command!” “Enough!” Arthur snatched the microphone, shouting sternly. He stood in front of Emily, facing the audience, his tone pained but firm: “Commanders, comrades, I am deeply sorry.” “My wife, Chloe, was injured in a recent border skirmish. The massive blood loss caused severe PTSD, making her mental state unstable. She frequently experiences memory confusion and persecution delusions. The doctors have recommended involuntary psychiatric treatment.” A wave of realization washed over the audience. Looks of suspicion turned to sympathy and pity. I stood rooted to the spot, looking at Arthur’s righteous face, feeling the blood in my veins turn ice cold. “Arthur, to pave the way for her, you would crush my reputation and my career?” “This is what you owe her.” Arthur turned off the microphone, his voice low enough that only I could hear. “Chloe, Emily has a weak constitution. This staff position will give her the best medical coverage. You’re already a key medical officer; this award is just icing on the cake for you, but it’s a lifeline for her. Learn to be accommodating, don’t you understand?” He raised his hand, and two guards rushed forward, grabbing me by each arm. Arthur ordered: “Take Dr. Miller to the break room and contact the specialists at the mental health center.” I didn’t struggle, letting the guards escort me off the stage. Arthur, since you say I’m sick, then I’ll give you exactly what you want. The public relations department moved swiftly. To protect the reputation of Emily, the rising star of military command, a bulletin with blue text on a white background swept the internet half an hour later. [Statement regarding the inappropriate words and actions of military medical officer Chloe M. at the commendation ceremony: Comrade Chloe M. was recently injured in the line of duty and has been diagnosed with severe PTSD, resulting in cognitive bias and emotional loss of control. Our department has decided to suspend her duties for treatment. We deeply apologize to Comrade Emily Davis, who was affected by this incident.] Overnight, I went from being the youngest key medical officer at command to a universally condemned lunatic and jealous woman. My personal social media accounts were overrun, my direct messages filled with filthy insults. Outside the military command building, angry netizens and supporters of Emily blocked the gates. Arthur shielded Emily as they walked toward a military vehicle, surrounded by an anti-riot squad. I carried a cardboard box containing my personal belongings, following alone behind them. Someone recognized me. A shout triggered a commotion. A plastic water bottle struck my forehead hard, followed by a shower of rotten cabbage leaves and eggs. In the shoving, I fell on the steps, my palm pressing into shattered glass. It was a broken picture frame. These hands of mine, used to holding a scalpel, were instantly covered in blood. Sitting inside the armored vehicle, Arthur saw this scene through the dark tinted windows, his heart suddenly feeling like it was tightly squeezed. “Arthur, I’m scared.” Emily trembled, shrinking into his embrace. “Those people are terrifying. Will Chloe be okay?” Arthur withdrew his gaze, suppressing the inexplicable twinge of pain in his heart, and said coldly: “Drive. It’s good for her to learn a lesson, so she knows her place in the future.” The car sped away, leaving a cloud of dust. I watched the familiar olive-green SUV disappear around the corner, feeling no anger, not even pain. I slowly stood up, brushing the dirt from my clothes. The blood from my forehead ran into my eye, bathing the world in a sea of red. I pulled out my phone, glanced at the issued e-ticket, and then looked at the divorce agreement in my hand, already signed and finalized. I flagged down a taxi, my voice hoarse but calm: “Driver, to the airport.” Chapter 5 It wasn’t until late the next afternoon that Arthur realized Chloe was missing. The aftermath of the victory banquet had escalated far beyond his expectations. Although public opinion online was controlled, an internal military investigation had been launched. He used his connections to suppress the initial inquiry into Emily’s paper, the price being a promise that Chloe would “quietly recuperate” and cause no further trouble. He thought this was just another cold war, that Chloe would eventually digest her grievances in silence and return to him, just like before. He drove to the guest house. The room was excessively tidy. Her military uniform lay flat on the bed, the arm patch placed squarely on top, like a silent farewell. No note, no text message. He called her phone; it was turned off. An unfamiliar panic gripped him. He drove to the military hospital; the nurses told him Dr. Miller had discharged herself at noon yesterday. He contacted her possible comrades and friends; no one had any news. Finally, he had no choice but to use his clearance to check transportation records. He found a record of a taxi ride from the city to the airport yesterday evening, along with blurry security footage from the airport. She was wearing an unfamiliar jacket, a wound on her forehead, her back resolute as she walked toward the international departures channel. “Investigate! Find out where she went! Which flight she took!” He roared into the phone, his temples throbbing. The results arrived in the evening: Chloe had taken Turkish Airlines Flight TK21, transferring through Istanbul, with her final destination being a war-torn border city in northern Syria. Travel records showed she had left the country as a “member of a Doctors Without Borders medical rescue organization.” Arthur gripped the thin sheet of printer paper, his knuckles turning white. He remembered vaguely hearing that she was contacting international rescue teams, but at the time, he thought she was just acting out of spite. He never imagined she would actually leave, let alone go to a place like that. “Arthur, don’t worry too much.” Emily had appeared in his office at some point, holding a cup of hot tea, her voice soft. “Chloe is probably just in a bad mood and went out to clear her head. With that kind of rescue team, she’ll probably suffer for a few days and come back on her own.” Arthur didn’t take the tea. Staring at those distant, dangerous coordinates on the paper, his heart felt like it was being squeezed tightly by an invisible hand, a dull ache making it impossible to breathe. Clear her head? Going to a place ripped apart by artillery fire to clear her head? That was absolutely not something Chloe would do, unless… she truly had no intention of coming back. “About the paper, the investigation team…” Emily probed, a hint of unease in her eyes. “It’s been suppressed for now.” Arthur’s voice was hoarse, carrying an exhaustion he didn’t even realize. “Keep a low profile for the next few days. Don’t provoke her anymore… don’t draw any attention.” Emily nodded obediently, placing the teacup on the desk, her fingers seemingly accidentally brushing against the back of his hand: “I know. It’s all my fault for dragging you and Chloe down. When she comes back, I will definitely apologize to her properly…” Come back? Arthur jerked his hand away, a sudden surge of irritability making his tone harsh: “Go back. I have things to do.” Emily’s eyes reddened. She bit her lip aggrievedly, turned, and left. The office returned to silence. Arthur walked to the window. Outside was the familiar scenery of the camp—the sound of drills, marching footsteps, everything as usual. Yet he felt as if a massive void had opened up somewhere. That base housing apartment—the one that always had a small light on waiting for him, where even if he returned covered in the smell of gunpowder, she would silently hand him a cup of warm water—would there never be anyone there again? He thought of her pale face lying in the hospital bed, the resolute look in her eyes when she drank the strong liquor at the banquet, her indifferent expression when she was knocked to the ground… He used to think she was resilient, understanding, even a bit submissive. But now, stringing those images together pieced together a Chloe he had never truly known. A Chloe who, after her heart had died, quietly detached herself from everything, too lazy to even offer hatred. “Chloe…” he murmured the name, his Adam’s apple bobbing violently. A delayed, immense panic, mixed with sharp, piercing pain, finally penetrated the heart he had kept wrapped in discipline and duty for years, surging forth relentlessly.

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David took me out for steaks and whiskey. It felt off. David has a sensitive stomach; he’s always adhered to a bland diet. He won’t touch anything spicy, even when I cook it. Since when did he crave heavy, greasy restaurant food? Seeing my hesitation, he gave a soft chuckle. “Occasionally, it’s good to change things up.” … 1 “Welcome, right this way, please.” The hostess was young, clean-cut, with a voice like honey. David recognized her instantly. “Amber? What are you doing working here?” The moment Amber Hartley saw David Sterling, a flash of surprise rushed through her eyes. Then she looked down, fidgeting nervously with the hem of her apron. “I needed a part-time job to help with tuition.” “Dr. Sterling, what a coincidence. You still love the ribeyes here, I see.” Amber, the new intern at David’s hospital, spoke casually as she deftly set the table. “Since you brought Mrs. Sterling today, I’ll have the kitchen send out a few complimentary appetizers. On me.” My heart sank. David didn’t love ribeyes. In fact, he despised restaurant food, viewing it all as unhealthy garbage. I managed every aspect of his diet and daily life. As the Chief of Cardiac Surgery, he suffered from ulcers and maintained almost obsessive eating habits. Low sodium, low fat, zero soda—even red meat was restricted to less than twice a week. But now, he just gave a curt nod. “That’s very kind of you.” Amber insisted on staying to serve us personally. She held the tongs, expertly flipping the steaks on the sizzling grill. The grease popped. Amber carved the ribeye and NY strip, placing the best pieces onto David’s plate, one by one. “Dr. Sterling, you work so hard in surgery every day, you need the protein. These cuts are the finest on the animal.” Then she glanced at me, a hint of disdain flashing in her eyes. David set down his fork, naturally swapping my empty plate with his full one. He looked at me with an indulgent smile. “Eat up, honey. You look like you’ve lost weight recently.” 2 “Alright, you can go now. We’d like some privacy.” When Amber withdrew, her eyes were practically screaming. But every one of David’s subtle movements felt like he was overcompensating, trying to hide something. If they didn’t eat here privately all the time, how would Amber know what he “loved” to eat? If they didn’t spend a lot of time together, how would she dare to act so relaxed and flirty in front of the Chief? Halfway through the meal, the lights in the booth suddenly dimmed. A waiter wheeled in a massive, three-tiered strawberry mousse cake, followed by another waiter holding 999 deep-red roses. “Happy Valentine’s Day, Clara.” David stood behind the massive bouquet, the candlelight reflecting off his handsome face. “Thank you for everything this past year. I know taking care of Leo is exhausting. Once this busy season at the hospital is over, I’ll take a long vacation so we can go to the Maldives.” The surrounding diners turned to look, gasping in envy. Amber stood in the shadows of the hallway nearby, staring deathly at the roses, her grip on her serving tray so tight it was bending. I accepted the flowers, smiling gracefully. “Thank you, David.” As soon as the waiters left, Amber rushed back over. “Mrs. Sterling is so lucky. A man like Dr. Sterling is one in a million. But I suppose it makes sense—Mrs. Sterling only needs to arrange flowers and raise the child at home, while Dr. Sterling is out there killing himself to support the family. It must be nice; some of us are just born to toil, not rely on a man.” I set down my fork, slowly wiped my mouth with a napkin, and looked at her. “Miss Hartley, I recorded what you just said.” She froze, her face turning pale. “First, as a server here, making offensive remarks to guests is a serious issue of professionalism. Second, as David Sterling’s student, commenting on your mentor’s family matters is an issue of breeding.” I looked toward the front desk. “Please call your manager over. I want to file a complaint.” Amber panicked, instinctively grabbing David’s sleeve. “Dr. Sterling, I didn’t mean it like that… I was just… just worried that you were pushing yourself too hard…” David looked at her, and a flicker of internal struggle flashed through his otherwise stern eyes. He finally sighed in resignation, turned to me, and said, “Clara, she’s still young, she hasn’t been out in the real world yet. She doesn’t know how to measure her words. I’ll discipline her back at the hospital.” “You are her mentor’s wife, after all. Be the bigger person. Don’t bicker with a young girl, okay?” “Her family is poor; that’s why she’s working part-time here.” I almost laughed in frustration. Because her family is poor, she has to become a homewrecking brat? Because she is poor, I’m supposed to endure her? But David didn’t care. He cut me off before I could speak: “It’s a holiday. My wife isn’t that petty. Let it go.” David practically dragged me away to leave. In the shadows, Amber quietly reached out her hand and quickly brushed it against the back of his hand. And David did not flinch. He not only didn’t flinch, but he also took advantage of the darkness to briefly hold her hand in return. My stomach churned. He was wrong. I am that petty. A man is like a toothbrush—I do not share. 3 From that day on, David never brought up Amber Hartley again. He performed the role of the model husband perfectly: coming home on time, helping our son with homework, handing over his paycheck, and even letting me scroll through his phone whenever I wanted. Three months later, David pushed open the bedroom door looking utterly exhausted. He sat on the edge of the bed, hesitating. “What’s wrong?” I asked, closing my book. “Clara… there’s something I need to discuss with you.” He rubbed his temples. “Amber Hartley was fired from the hospital.” I raised an eyebrow. “Why?” “They claim… she violated operating procedures, leading to a minor medical malpractice issue. But I know it’s because people in the department are pushing her out. She’s too blunt and offended the wrong person.” David sighed heavily. “Her family is buried in debt, and her landlord just kicked her out. A young girl wandering the streets in the middle of the night… I almost hit her driving back just now. I can’t just leave her out there.” My heart sank, bit by bit. “So?” “I was thinking, isn’t our guest room empty? Let her stay for a little while, just until she finds a new job or saves enough for a deposit. Do this as a favor to me, okay?” David walked over, took my hand, his eyes full of pleading. “She was my student, after all. If something really happened to her, I wouldn’t be able to live with myself.” Live with himself? More like he was heartbroken for her. I sighed helplessly. “Since you’ve already put it that way, what can I say? But I have one condition: we must set ground rules. This cannot affect Leo.” “Absolutely! Clara, you are the best.” David hugged me, visibly relieved. That night, Amber Hartley walked through the door dragging a battered suitcase. She acted very industrious, scrambling to do chores, bowing and scraping before me. But I had already installed the most hidden pinhole cameras in the living room, dining room, and even on the bookshelf in our bedroom. After installing the cameras, I made an excuse to take our son Leo to stay at my mother’s place for a few days. Before I left, David kissed my forehead tenderly, telling me to drive carefully. Sitting on the sofa at my mother’s house, I opened the real-time monitoring app on my phone. David came home from work. Amber was wearing a silk nightgown that barely covered her thighs, with no bra underneath. She paced around the living room, holding a glass of red wine. The moment David walked in the door, Amber wrapped herself around him. “Dr. Sterling, you’re finally back. Mrs. Sterling isn’t home, and this house is terrifyingly cold.” David pushed her slightly. “Amber, don’t be like this.” Amber’s voice came through the speaker. “Dr. Sterling, you’ve eaten so many steaks with me. I don’t believe you’ve never felt anything. You clearly love me. Why stay with that woman who only knows how to stay home and raise a child?” “She does it for this family…” David’s defense was pathetic and weak. “She does it for the money!” Amber ripped off David’s tie, lifting her face to kiss his neck. “If you didn’t have your current status, would she willingly stay at home? Only I… I truly admire you, Professor… Take me…” David’s hand ultimately settled on her waist. They engaged in intimacy all the way from the sofa to our master bedroom bed. On the silk sheets I had meticulously selected, they freely vented their desires. David’s voice panted, with a wildness I had never heard before: “Amber… you are so much more flavorful…” I shut off my phone, my fingertips ice cold. David Sterling, since you’ve chosen this path, prepare to leave this marriage with nothing. 4 Upon my return, I acted as if everything were normal, cooking for David and allowing Amber to continue living in the house. Amber grew increasingly arrogant. While doing laundry, she even deliberately washed her underwear mixed together with David’s shirts. I turned a blind eye to all of it. I started visiting financial planners and law firms. Using the excuse of establishing an education fund for our son, I leveraged David’s trust in me to coax him into signing complex English contracts and power-of-attorney forms, one after another. He was so immersed in the illusory pleasure Amber provided that he didn’t even glance at the contents. “Honey, these are a few dividend agreements from our insurance company. Signing them will double next year’s returns.” “Honey, I want to transfer this property to my mother’s name. Just in case the hospital faces any lawsuits, we’ll have a backup.” David was texting Amber on WhatsApp while carelessly scribbling his signature. “Sure, I trust you to handle it.” He smiled and kissed me. “Clara, you really are my capable right hand.” Yes, of course I am your capable right hand. I am going to help unload all of your money. I uncovered all of David’s private accounts. Through gift deeds, the assets under my name were quietly expanding. While the numbers in David’s accounts outwardly remained unchanged, in reality, the usage rights to that money had already quietly shifted to my control through the various trust guarantees he had signed. It was Valentine’s Day again. David had a massive headache recently. Amber Hartley was no longer satisfied with just providing emotional connection. She was demanding a Hermes Birkin as a Valentine’s gift. David could only agree. He slipped away into his study to call the sales associate: “Yes, I’ll be over on Valentine’s Day to pick it up. Charge my private card.” What he didn’t know was that without my consent, not a single penny could be withdrawn from that card. 5 Valentine’s Day. David woke up even earlier than usual. He stood before the mirror meticulously styling his hair and even put on cologne. “There’s an important academic conference today. I might be back late tonight.” He said to me while tying his tie, his eyes shifting slightly. I was peeling a boiled egg for our son Leo, not lifting my head. “What about tonight? Didn’t we agree to have dinner together?” “Of course! I will definitely be back to spend the holiday with you.” He walked over, placing a light kiss on my forehead. “I booked a table at that French restaurant you love. 7:00 PM, sharp. I’ll be there.” Lies. All lies. I glanced at the corner of the living room, where Amber Hartley was pretending to wipe down a table, but her ears were perked up high. “Okay. I’ll wait for you.” After David left, I opened my mobile banking app, entered the password, and clicked to freeze his accounts. You didn’t seriously think I would allow you to use marital assets to curry favor with your mistress? I called my son room: “Leo, how would you like to go play at Grandma’s house today?” “Yay!” My seven-year-old son jumped up in excitement. “Will Grandma make me a cake?” “Yes, and she’ll take you to the playground.” After arranging everything, I took my son and went out. In the car, I dialed a number: “Counselor, you may begin.” “Are you certain, Mrs. Sterling? Once this starts, there is no turning back.” “I am certain.” Meanwhile, David and Amber walked side-by-side into the Hermes boutique. Amber wore a white dress today, with meticulous makeup, looking pure and enchanting. “Dr. Sterling, I really, really love that bag.” She clung to David’s arm, her voice sticky. “My colleague’s boyfriend got her one, and she flaunts it in front of me every single day.” David patted her hand. “Buying it for you today. You won’t need to envy anyone else after this.” The sales associate greeted them warmly: “Mr. Sterling, the bag you ordered is ready. Please come this way.” Amber’s eyes lit up, practically gluing themselves to the expensive leather goods in the display cases. The associate retrieved a gift box, carefully opening it. The silver hardware sparkled under the lights. “That’s it!” Amber excitedly grabbed David’s arm. David pulled out his wallet, took out his black credit card, and handed it to the associate. The associate ran the card, her brows furrowing slightly: “Mr. Sterling, this card is not processing. It says transaction restricted.” “How is that possible?” David froze for a moment. “Is something wrong with the machine? Try again.” The associate tried again, with the same result. Other customers nearby were already casting glances their way. Amber’s face began to flush red. “Use this one.” David produced a debit card. Same result. A third card, a fourth… David tried every card in his wallet; none of them worked. The associate’s expression shifted from warm to awkward. “Mr. Sterling, perhaps there’s some issue with your accounts. I suggest you contact your bank.” Amber released David’s arm, taking a step back: “Dr. Sterling, what is this supposed to mean? You promised me!” “Amber, don’t worry. There must be some misunderstanding.” Beads of sweat began to appear on David’s forehead. He pulled out his phone. “We’re sorry, the line you are calling is busy…” It was a busy signal, several times in a row. David attempted to log into his mobile banking, but it displayed an incorrect password. Only then did he remember that I set all the bank card passwords; he usually never concerned himself with these details. Amber’s expression grew uglier by the second. She looked around, feeling like everyone was laughing at her. A young girl passed by her, tossing out a quiet remark: “If you can’t afford it, don’t come in acting high-class.” “David Sterling!” she shouted his full name. “Are you playing me? Saying you love me, that you want to give me the best, yet you can’t even produce twenty thousand dollars? Do you know how much I bragged to my friends? How am I supposed to face anyone now?” “Amber, let me explain…” “Explain what? Explain how your wife controls you so completely you can’t even use a card?” Amber’s voice grew louder. “I thought you were a successful man. Turns out you’re just a kept man!” A crowd was gathering, pointing and whispering. David’s face flushed bright red. He grabbed Amber’s arm: “Let’s take this outside.” “Let go of me!” Amber violently shook him off. “I must have been blind. I was fired from the hospital for you, I gave up everything for you, and for what? You’re just a liar!” She turned and rushed out of the store. David hurriedly chased after her, leaving the associate and a group of spectating customers staring at each other. Outside the mall, Amber had already hailed a taxi. David ran over and grabbed the car door: “Amber, don’t be like this. I swear I will solve this. I will absolutely buy you the bag tomorrow!” “Don’t touch me!” Amber’s eyes were filled with resentment. “David Sterling, let me tell you, this isn’t over!” The taxi sped away. David stood in place, his suit in disarray, his tie crooked. The house was empty. On the dining table was a note: “Took Leo to my mom’s house. See you at the restaurant at 7:00 PM.” He breathed a sigh of relief, took a shower, changed into a clean suit, and practiced smiling in the mirror. At exactly 7:00 PM, David appeared sharply at the French restaurant. I was already waiting for him at a window table. “Honey, you look beautiful today.” I looked up at him with a faint smile: “Is the money in your cards still usable?”

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After serving my sick mother-in-law in the hospital for half a year, I finally returned home. Before I could even warm the sofa, my husband suddenly opened the door and walked in with another woman. The woman cradled a clearly pregnant belly and shyly lowered her head. “This is Mia. I… made a mistake five months ago, and now she’s pregnant. I’m worried about her living alone outside, so I have no choice but to entrust her to your care.” “It’ll be a bit tough on you for this period, just half a year. Once the baby is born, I’ll send her away.” I frowned: “You want me to serve your mistress through her pregnancy and postpartum? Did your brain get slammed in a door?” Mark exploded on the spot, smashing a glass. “I only brought Mia home because I thought you were kind-hearted. Don’t be ungrateful!” “If you don’t agree, we get a divorce right now. I have plenty of ways to make sure you don’t get a single dime!” My mother-in-law, recently discharged from the hospital, glared at me coldly: “A hen that can’t lay eggs herself, and won’t let anyone else lay them either. Is my Miller family going to end with you?” “My son gives you face, and you are Mrs. Miller. If he doesn’t give you face, you’re just a used, worn-out rag! What right do you have to throw an attitude at my son!” I looked at my self-righteous husband, then at my disdainful mother-in-law, and smiled. It’s not that I wouldn’t agree to take care of the mistress. It’s just that I secretly sterilized my husband a long time ago. Whose seed is growing in Mia’s belly? 1 I stood up from the sofa, my fingertips trembling slightly from anger. “So, for the half-year I was running around the hospital taking care of your mother for you, you were busy taking care of another woman outside, and even had a child with her? Not only did she get pregnant, but now you want me to take care of her? Is that what you’re saying?” Before Mark could speak, my mother-in-law chimed in anxiously. “What kind of attitude is that? Can’t you hear an elder speaking to you? Do you have any manners?” “You are the daughter-in-law; taking care of me is your duty! My son hasn’t left you short of food or clothes, who are you pulling this face for?” I turned to look at my mother-in-law, a mocking arc curving at the corner of my mouth. “Mom, in your heart, am I really the Miller family’s daughter-in-law?” Before I finished speaking, Mark immediately agreed: “Mom is right.” “Chloe, don’t forget, the house you live in now, the car you drive, which of them didn’t I give you? Without me, you’re nothing!” “Married for five years and your belly hasn’t shown any movement. It’s good enough our Miller family hasn’t blamed you.” My mother-in-law sneered: “Now Mia is carrying Mark’s seed, this is the hope of the Miller family. You must take good care of her!” Mark chimed in to support her: “Exactly.” “You can’t give birth yourself, so you want to stop others from doing it? Chloe, can you not be so vicious?” Watching this mother and son sing the same tune, I only felt it was absurd and hilarious. Five years of marriage. I accompanied Mark from setting up a street stall to taking his company public. During the early days of his startup, when he stayed up late guarding the shop, I brought him late-night snacks. When his capital turnover was tight, I mortgaged the apartment my parents gave me for the wedding. His mother was hospitalized three times, and I served her, handling her bedpans and urinals. Even half a year ago, when she was hospitalized for a stroke, I guarded her side day and night for six months. And now, I’ve become a used rag that is nothing. Just because I can’t have a child, I am the sinner of their entire family! “I didn’t say I disagreed.” I interrupted them, my tone as calm as stagnant water. Both Mark and my mother-in-law were stunned, clearly not expecting me to agree. “Glad you know what’s good for you.” My mother-in-law curled her lip: “Hurry up and tidy up a south-facing bedroom for Mia; pregnant women need sunlight.” “The fridge in the kitchen is empty. Go buy groceries now; Mia is hungry.” Mark ordered immediately, as if I were really the family’s nanny. I didn’t speak, turning and walking into the guest room. I watched as they crowded around Mia, walking into the master bedroom. That was the room Mark and I had shared for five years. Mia sat on the bed I had slept in for five years and said timidly to Mark: “Mark, won’t this be too much trouble for Sister Chloe?” “What trouble? She’s supposed to do these things anyway.” Mark stroked her hair, his tone soft enough to drip water: “You’re carrying my child; just rest well.” I closed the door, my back against the panel, my fingertips icy cold. Images from four years ago suddenly flooded my mind. At that time, Mark’s company had just started to pick up, and he hired a young, beautiful secretary named Willow. The first time I saw them at the company, Willow was standing on her tiptoes tying Mark’s tie. They smiled intimately, and the large expanse of exposed skin on the woman’s chest was pressed right against him. I confronted Mark, but he said I was being unreasonable: “It’s just a secretary helping her boss tie his tie, and those clothes are the company’s standard uniform. What are you thinking? Chloe, can you be a bit more generous?” Later, I received a photo from Willow. She was lying on a hotel bed, covered with Mark’s suit jacket. The caption: “Mr. Miller says I know how to be romantic much better than you.” I took the photo to the company to confront Mark. But he kicked me out in front of all the company employees. “Chloe! Stop making a fool of yourself here! Make a scene again and we’re getting a divorce!” That day I stood outside the company building. Looking at the man I had loved in that high-rise, my heart completely died. I accompanied him in building his business from scratch, but after striking it rich, he wanted to kick me to the curb. But I wasn’t willing to let it go. Half of this company is my blood and sweat; I couldn’t just hand it over to someone else. I began to plan quietly. I asked a friend to buy sterilization drugs and mixed them into Mark’s coffee. He never suspected me, drinking it with absolute peace of mind. I thought, since I can’t keep his heart, at least I must protect my assets. I would make sure he could never have someone else’s child inherit everything. But I never expected that today, five years later, he would actually bring a pregnant woman home. 2 The first day Mia moved in, she treated me like a nanny. At seven in the morning, she banged loudly on my door: “Sister Chloe, I’m hungry. I want to eat soy milk and fried dough sticks from that old shop downstairs. Go buy them.” I had just finished washing up and hadn’t even had time for breakfast before she bossed me around. When I bought the soy milk and fried dough sticks back, she frowned again and said: “Oh my, I can’t eat fried food right now, it’s bad for the baby.” “Sister Chloe, please go boil some bird’s nest for me, the kind that needs to be stewed for over three hours.” I didn’t say a word, turning and walking into the kitchen. My mother-in-law was sitting in the living room watching TV. Seeing me busy running around, not only did she not help, but she also commanded: “Put a few more red dates in the bird’s nest; Mia is anemic.” In the afternoon, I made four dishes and a soup. Mia only took one bite of a dish and put down her chopsticks: “Sister Chloe, the dishes you made are too salty, the baby can’t handle it.” “And I want to eat sour things right now. Go buy me a bottle of aged vinegar, the sourest kind.” I dug my nails into my palms: “It’s so cold out, you want me to run out and buy vinegar? There’s some in the kitchen; you can drink it like water if you want.” “Sister Chloe, how can you speak like that?” Mia’s eyes immediately reddened, and she looked at Mark, who had just returned home from work: “Mark, I didn’t mean to make things difficult for Sister Chloe, it’s just that the baby wants to eat…” Mark immediately glared at me: “Chloe! What’s wrong with you?” “Mia is pregnant, what’s wrong with wanting something to eat? Go buy it right now!” I gripped the chopsticks in my hand tightly, my knuckles turning white. “Fine, I’ll buy it.” From then on, Mia’s demands became increasingly outrageous. She made me wash her underwear, by hand, saying the washing machine didn’t clean well enough. She made me give her a sponge bath every day, saying it was inconvenient for her to bend over. She even made me clip her toenails, and complained that I didn’t clip them round enough. While making me massage her legs, she stroked her smooth skin: “Sister Chloe, look at your hands, as rough as old tree bark. No wonder Mark doesn’t like you.” “Women need to take good care of themselves, otherwise, you’ll lose your looks at a young age, and who will cherish you then?” I ignored her, continuing to massage. She spoke again: “Sister Chloe, you’ve been with Mark for so many years, have you never given him any surprises? Men all like women who know how to be romantic. You’re like a piece of wood, how could Mark care about you?” When Mark returned, she immediately changed her tune, nestling in his arms: “Mark, you’re back? Sister Chloe massaged me for a long time today. It must have been hard work for her.” Mark touched her face, looking at me with a mocking gaze: “Look at how sensible Mia is. You should learn from her.” I gave a cold laugh and turned into the kitchen. Later, Mia asked me to help her buy maternity and baby supplies, and I immediately agreed. Anyway, it was Mark’s money being spent; why not spend it? Opportunities to openly transfer assets are rare. But I didn’t expect her to push her luck. That night, she handed me a shopping list. The last item was boldly written: “Lingerie.” She blushed, lowering her head shyly: “Sister Chloe, please help me buy this.” “Mark seems a bit tired lately. I want to give him a surprise and make him happy.” I looked at the list, feeling nothing but disgust: “If you want to buy it, go buy it yourself.” “Sister Chloe, why are you like this?” Her tears fell instantly: “I’m a pregnant woman, it’s so inconvenient to go out. And this kind of thing, how could a young girl like me have the nerve to go buy it?” My face went completely cold: “What does that have to do with me?” “You’re already a pregnant woman, what are you pretending to be a young girl for?” Mia cried beautifully: “Sister Chloe, do you dislike me?” “I know I shouldn’t be here, shouldn’t be carrying Mark’s child. If you really can’t stand the sight of me, I’ll just leave with the child, so I won’t be an eyesore here.” Mark happened to come back from outside. Hearing the crying, he immediately ran over: “What happened? Why is Mia crying?” 3 “Mark!” Mia threw herself into Mark’s arms, complaining tearfully: “I just wanted Sister Chloe to help me buy something to make you happy. I didn’t expect Sister Chloe to be unwilling, and she even said I shouldn’t be here… How about I just live outside?” Mark glared at me angrily: “Chloe! What are you throwing a fit about again?” “Mia asked you to buy something, so what? Do you have to make things so difficult for her?” I said flatly: “She asked me to buy lingerie.” “Then buy it!” Mark was unconcerned, adopting a high-and-mighty posture: “Mia wants to make me happy, what’s wrong with that? As the older sister, what’s wrong with helping her buy something? You’re just narrow-minded, jealous that Mia is carrying my child!” I finally couldn’t hold it back anymore, abruptly raising my volume: “Mark, have you no shame?” “She’s a mistress! You want me to buy lingerie for your mistress? Are you crazy?” “Shut your mouth!” Mark was livid with anger: “Chloe, I’m warning you, you are not allowed to speak of Mia like that! She is carrying my child, she is a meritorious contributor to the Miller family!” Mia pulled on Mark’s arm, hypocritically advising: “Mark, don’t be angry, it’s all my fault. I shouldn’t have asked Sister Chloe to help me buy this kind of thing.” As she spoke, she deliberately leaned towards me. Then her foot slipped, and she fell directly onto the floor. She clutched her stomach, her face deathly pale. “Mia!” Mark was scared out of his wits, hurriedly picking her up: “How are you? Are you okay?” “I… my stomach hurts a bit…” Mia bit her lip, tears streaming down her face. When she looked at me, there was a trace of imperceptible smugness in her eyes: “Sister Chloe, I know you don’t like me, but you shouldn’t have pushed me…” I was stunned. “I didn’t push you!” “If it wasn’t you, who was it?” Mark’s eyes widened in fury, pointing at my nose and cursing: “Chloe, you venomous woman! Mia is pregnant, and you actually dared to push her? I’m telling you, if anything happens to her, I won’t let you off!” I looked at him, my heart sinking little by little. “Mark, are you blind?” “Get back to your room! Without my permission, you are not allowed to come out!” Mark held Mia, shouting sternly: “If there’s any problem with Mia and the baby, I’m not done with you!” I watched as he nervously carried Mia to the hospital, watching my mother-in-law follow behind, cursing. Suddenly, I felt an immense sense of irony. I stood rooted to the spot, speaking coldly: “Since this family doesn’t welcome me, I’ll just leave.” I packed my bags and left the house I had lived in for five years. As soon as I checked into a hotel, my phone rang. It was a WeChat message from Mia. She sent a photo of a designer bag Mark had bought her: “Mark bought this for me, said it’s a gift to make it up to me. By the way, this money seems to be your and Mark’s joint property.” Then, she sent a screenshot of a money transfer. Mark had transferred fifty thousand dollars to her. “Mark told me to spend it however I want, and said once the baby is born, he’ll divorce you. By then you’ll get nothing. Sister Chloe, don’t you think your five years were wasted for nothing?” “Instead of losing all your face then, it’s better to initiate a divorce now and leave with nothing.” I deleted the message and ignored it. In the following days, she escalated her behavior, sending me all kinds of show-off messages every day. Mark took her to buy jewelry. Mark accompanied her to prenatal checkups. Mark hired a top-tier postpartum nanny for her… Every message reminded me of how heartless Mark was, and how smug she was. I looked at those messages and only found them amusing. I was waiting. Waiting for the day she gave birth, waiting for the moment the truth was revealed. In the blink of an eye, three months passed, and Mia gave birth to a son. Mark was overjoyed, throwing a grand banquet, and specifically sent me a message: “We’ve been giving each other the silent treatment for so long, it’s time to let go of your anger. After all, you are the child’s mother in name. It’s inappropriate if you don’t show up.” I looked at the invitation and sneered. Host it, the more lively the better. Such a wonderful play, how could it lack an audience?

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