In the sixth year after I went blind for Adrian, he stepped out of a luxury car with his pregnant wife in his arms. He completely ignored my mom being kicked out of the hospital. He gripped my chin with a cold laugh. “What a pathetic sight. When you abandoned me, did you ever think you’d have a day like this?” I was used to his cruel words, until he turned and scooped up another woman. “There are steps ahead. You can’t see, so I’ll carry you.” I froze. Why was Lily blind too? The person who donated corneas to Adrian was me! Ava’s POV In the sixth year after I went blind for Adrian, I ran into him at the hospital entrance. My vegetative mother and I had been kicked out of the hospital for unpaid bills. Meanwhile, Adrian was helping a radiantly happy Lily out of a luxury car for her prenatal checkup. After six years apart, he suddenly rushed up to me, his voice filled with disbelief. “Ava? You… why didn’t you tell me you went blind?” My whole body stiffened as I clutched my white cane in embarrassment. “It’s none of your business.” Just then, a familiar female voice came from beside me. “Honey, who is it?” Adrian’s tone instantly became incredibly gentle. “Someone unimportant.” Listening to his familiar inflection, my heart felt like it was being pricked with needles, a dense, pervasive pain. He had always been this tender only with people he loved. He lifted Lily into his arms. “There are steps ahead. You can’t see, so I’ll carry you.” I raised my head in shock. Why couldn’t Lily see either? Before I could figure it out, several security guards came running out with batons, barking at me. “What are you still doing here? Get lost!” I immediately shielded my mother’s stretcher behind me. “What right do you have to kick us out? Years ago, I donated my eyes to Adrian, and his mother personally promised that my mom could stay at the hospital for the rest of her life!” The security guards burst out laughing as if they’d heard the joke of the century, spitting at me. “You lying bitch! It was Miss Lily who donated her eyes to Mr. Reed!” “That’s impossible!” My body trembled uncontrollably. A crowd of onlookers gradually gathered around. “This girl looks pretty pitiful. What’s going on?” “Pitiful?” A shrill female voice rang out. “I heard she was Mr. Reed’s mistress for four years, and now that he’s married, she’s pretending to be the benefactor who donated eyes! Everyone knows Miss Lily loved Mr. Reed so deeply she donated her perfectly good eyes without hesitation!” “What a shameless whore!” The vile insults stabbed into my heart like knives, followed by foul-smelling garbage being hurled at me. Suddenly, a worn shoe slammed hard into my forehead. Searing pain shot through me as I cried out through bloody tears. “I’m not! I’m not pretending!” Just then, Adrian, who had turned back, grabbed me by the collar and yanked me up, his voice laced with poison. “What a pathetic sight.” “When you abandoned me, did you ever think you’d have a day like this?” My heart felt like it was being squeezed by an invisible hand, the sourness making my eyes burn. That year, my mother and I were fishing when we found a handsome blind man. He said his name was Adrian Reed and that he’d run away from an arranged marriage. He was irritable and extremely proud, but I happened to have a temper too. The two of us bickered from the moment we met, and somehow, we fell in love. Until our second year together, a wealthy woman found me. “Five million dollars. Leave my son.” That’s when I learned Adrian was the sole heir of the wealthy Reed family, and he’d jumped into the sea to escape his arranged marriage. And now, the Reed family was dragging him back to complete the wedding! The first time Adrian was forced home, he furiously smashed up the entire mansion. The second time they brought him back, he destroyed the house again. The third time, he held a knife to his own throat and declared to everyone. “In this life, I only recognize Ava as mine!” But everything changed the year we graduated from college. Mom was tricked into going to the border, and Adrian had an accident while rescuing her. In the end, Mom became a vegetable, and Adrian nearly lost his life. At the hospital, Adrian’s mother threw money in my face again. “Leave my son! You’re not on the same level. He nearly died for you. He’s done more than enough! Your mother’s in a vegetative state. The medical bills must be astronomical, right?” I understood her implication. “Fine. I’ll leave.” I looked at Adrian lying unconscious in the hospital bed. “I heard… his eyes can be treated, they just need suitable corneas.” I smiled bitterly as tears fell to the floor. “I’ll donate my eyes to him. I don’t want to owe him anything. This way we’ll be even.” Adrian’s mother looked at me with unexpected attention. “Alright. In that case, the Reed family will take care of your mother for the rest of her life.” But in just six short years, she’d completely forgotten about us! “Back then, I promised your mother I’d take good care of you.” Adrian’s voice pulled me back from my thoughts. He gripped my chin, barely concealing his hatred. “You’re coming back with me!” I bit my lip, struggling. “I won’t!” Adrian suddenly laughed. “You don’t have a choice! If your mom doesn’t get back on life support soon, she’ll die.”

Ava’s POV At the mention of my mother, I instantly deflated. I opened my mouth, and after a long moment, forced out a single word. “Fine.” Adrian raised his hand in satisfaction, and the bodyguards behind him immediately carried my mother’s stretcher back to the VIP ward. The late autumn wind scraped across my face. I was so cold I clutched the corner of my coat, my cane trembling slightly in my hand. Until Adrian’s voice rang out again. “Get in the car.” I moved toward his voice, but just as I reached the car, Adrian suddenly stuck out his foot in front of me. “My shoe’s dirty. Clean it.” As he spoke, he casually pulled something from the car and tossed it to me. I caught the long, thick piece of fabric, and suddenly felt a pattern. My breathing came to an abrupt halt. This wasn’t just any fabric-it was the first scarf I’d ever knitted for Adrian, and the only one! A sharp pain lanced through my heart. My eyes burned, but I bit down hard on my lip. “What are you standing there for? Hurry up.” Adrian urged impatiently. I forced down the sourness and crouched down, each wipe feeling like self-torture. After the final swipe, I stood and handed the scarf back to Adrian. He frowned as he took it, didn’t even glance at it, and casually tossed it into a nearby trash can. “Dirty thing. Might as well throw it away.” Along with the scarf, the last remnants of my feelings for Adrian were also tossed into the garbage. I lowered my eyes, hiding my tears. Back at the Reed mansion, Adrian sat on the sofa, mocking me. “Explain. What exactly happened to your eyes? Did you catch some disease messing around abroad and go blind?” The sharp words pierced my heart like needles. I’d long grown used to his harsh tongue, but my heart still contracted painfully beyond my control. I clenched my fists tightly, instinctively shouting. “I didn’t! My eyes were clearly donated to…” Before I could finish, the sound of the door opening came from the entrance. Lily walked in with empty, unfocused eyes, surrounded by several maids. “Lily.” Adrian immediately stood to greet her. “Why didn’t you call me to pick you up?” Lily glanced in my direction with her hollow eyes, which trembled slightly, then smiled weakly. “I can manage on my own.” She paused. “Honey, I think I left the medicine the doctor prescribed in the car. Could you go get it?” Adrian agreed without hesitation. “Sure, I’ll go right now.” As he turned, he didn’t even glance at me and quickly left the living room. The maids tactfully retreated. The moment they were gone, Lily’s previously weak and harmless demeanor vanished. She walked straight up to me and snorted coldly. “Ava, why won’t you just go away?” My body shook. “You’re faking? You can see?” Lily burst out laughing. “That’s right. Thanks to your eyes, I’m now the benefactor who saved Adrian, while you’re just a hypocritical woman who abandoned him for money!” My chest tightened. Trembling, I lunged forward and pinned Lily to the ground, screaming. “How could you do this?” Lily only laughed harder. “I’m warning you. Keep everything that happened back then to yourself. Otherwise, tomorrow will be the day your mom stops breathing!” I suddenly fell silent and collapsed to the floor, releasing my grip. Just then, a brutal force yanked me up. “Ava! What the hell are you doing?” I was thrown down hard. Then Adrian tenderly gathered Lily from the floor into his arms. “Lily, are you okay?” Lily said tearfully and pitifully. “Honey, is she a new maid? I only asked her a few questions and she tried to hit me!” “I…” I tried desperately to explain, but Adrian cut me off. “That’s right, she’s newly hired help.” Adrian’s lips curved up as he shouted at me. “What are you standing there for? Get back to the servants’ quarters!” I flinched in fear-this was the first time Adrian had ever spoken to me so harshly! Late that night, I lay on a cramped bed crying. After a long while, I fumbled for a phone designed for the blind and made a call. “It’s me. You once promised me three favors. Does that still stand?” The voice on the other end immediately responded. “Of course.” I took a deep breath. “First, help me and my mom leave this place. Second, I need ten million dollars. Third…” I paused. “I want Adrian to know the whole truth. I don’t owe him anything!” The voice on the other end didn’t hesitate for a moment. “Alright. Give me one week. I’ll arrange everything.”

Ava’s POV The next day, after being bossed around all morning, I walked into the dining room. A familiar smell hit me, and I stopped in my tracks. Chicken soup! I knew this smell all too well. That year I had a terrible cold and was burning with fever, deliriously mumbling that I wanted my mom’s soup. Adrian panicked and fumbled his way into the kitchen despite being blind, only to get his hands covered in blisters from the stove. When I woke up and saw the injuries on his hands, I was both heartbroken and angry. I could only pull him along, teaching him over and over to recognize ingredients by touch, to judge the heat by sound… When the soup was finally done, he excitedly took my hand. “I learned it! Ava, from now on I’ll only make this for you.” In a daze, I heard Adrian’s voice again. “Lily, does it taste good?” My fingers gripping the cane tightened sharply. Right. He didn’t love me anymore. How could his promises still count? “Ava.” Adrian’s voice suddenly turned cold. “Come serve Lily some soup.” I steadied myself and carefully moved toward the sound, gripping my cane. Following the steam rising from the soup bowl, I found the dining table. My fingertips had just touched the rim when Lily said sweetly. “Thank you. Please be careful.” I frowned and slowly scooped up the soup with a spoon. Just as the spoon was about to reach Lily, I suddenly felt her shift her head slightly. Adrian immediately snapped. “Ava, you’re just blind, not handless! Can’t you even feed someone properly? Hurry up and wipe Lily’s mouth!” I clenched my fists secretly and patiently pulled a tissue from my pocket, fumbling to wipe Lily’s mouth. The moment my fingers touched Lily’s face, she suddenly screamed and jerked away. The soup bowl completely overturned, scalding soup spilling all over me. I gasped sharply. Lily threw herself into Adrian’s arms, her voice breaking with tears. “Honey, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to. It’s just that this maid’s hands are so rough they hurt my face.” Adrian held her, gently patting her back. “Silly girl, no need to apologize. You’ve been pampered since childhood-don’t I know how delicate your skin is?” Lily nuzzled into his embrace. “Honey, stop…” Adrian’s gaze suddenly turned on me, cruel and cutting. “Unlike some people who are born lowly. No amount of money can change that poor fate!” The moment he finished speaking, I felt my heart being violently torn open. My hands really weren’t delicate. I’d worked with my mother fishing by the sea since childhood, weathered by wind and sun, gradually developing calluses on my palms. But the Adrian of the past had held my hands and kissed those calluses tenderly. “How could I ever find them ugly? I only regret not meeting you sooner, letting you suffer so much…” So had he stopped loving me, or had all those words been lies from the very beginning? “Apologize to Lily right now!” Adrian snarled viciously. “I’m sorry…” I dug my nails into my palm, feeling the warmth in my heart gradually dissipate as cold wind howled through, the pain making it almost impossible to breathe. Just then, the phone in my pocket suddenly rang. I grabbed onto it like a lifeline, hastily fumbling to answer. “Is this Miss Ava? This is the hospital. Your mother is showing signs of waking up. Please come as soon as possible.” The words struck like thunder in my ears. Instantly, all the sourness that had built up in my heart vanished. I trembled with excitement. “Really? That’s wonderful… I’ll come right away!” Suddenly, a hand clamped around my wrist. The phone was violently snatched away and smashed on the floor. Adrian gripped me. “You’re not going!”

Ava’s POV “Give me back my phone!” I lunged at him frantically. “What right do you have to stop me? My mom is waking up!” With just a light push, Adrian sent me stumbling to the floor. He looked down at me without an ounce of pity. “You think I’d give you another chance to leave? You’re not going anywhere except here.” I clutched desperately at his pant leg. “Adrian, you can’t do this! That’s my mother!” I cried and pounded on his back. “Please, let me go see her…” But the next second, Adrian violently yanked his pants free, the force making me stagger back and slam hard into the corner of the dining table. “Tired? Let me take you to rest.” He tenderly lifted Lily into his arms and kissed her forehead. As he passed me, his eyes turned brutal. “If you dare make a scene, I’ll turn off your mother’s ventilator right now.” Lily lazily leaned against Adrian and glanced at me triumphantly, saying softly. “Pathetic.” My whole body trembled. Clutching my cane, tears streamed down my face. Heavy rain fell that night. I secretly felt my way to the door, only to find all the exits locked. No. I had to go see my mom… I fumbled to the window and without hesitation grabbed the frame and jumped down. Fortunately it was the first floor. I bit down hard and slowly stood up against the wall, gripping my cane tightly as I headed in the direction I remembered the hospital to be. The rain was too heavy, blurring my hearing and sense of touch. I carefully shuffled forward, constantly murmuring. “Excuse me, which way to the hospital? Please help me…” All along the way, car horns blared constantly. “Are you blind? Can’t you watch where you’re going!” “If you’re blind, don’t go outside!” “I’m sorry…” I kept apologizing. I don’t know how long I walked. Suddenly I tripped, my cane hitting a hard object. Before I could react, my forehead slammed hard into a lamppost. A dull thud, then blunt pain exploded instantly. My vision was already pitch black, but now my ears were ringing and even the surrounding car sounds became muffled. I staggered back two steps, lost my balance and fell to the ground. My knees hit the concrete-another piercing pain. All the grievances and fear completely collapsed in that moment. I couldn’t hold on anymore. I covered my face with both hands, my shoulders shaking violently. In a trance, I remembered when Adrian’s mother talked to me years ago. After returning, I packed my things and moved from our apartment back to my dorm. Unable to sleep that night, I suddenly received a message from Adrian. “Come down. I’m outside your dorm.” I ran downstairs to find Adrian soaked through in the pouring rain, his face covered in obvious scrapes. Through the rain, not knowing how many times he’d fallen, he’d walked step by step to find me! I softened and hugged him. The usually sullen Adrian cried pitifully. “Ava, don’t leave. Without you I’ll go crazy…” Suddenly the sound of an ambulance siren reached my ears. I jerked my head up, joy flooding my heart. I’d actually made it! I quickly scrambled up, but just as I lifted my leg, someone grabbed me. A familiar scent enveloped me. My whole body stiffened. “Well, well. You’ve really grown some nerve, Ava.” Adrian threw me roughly into the car. The door slammed shut with a bang. “Drive!” I frantically pounded on the window. “Let me out! I need to see my mom! Please, Adrian, just one look!” Adrian pressed down hard on my flailing hands and bit down viciously on my lip. “Let go of me!” I kept twisting my body until I tasted thick blood, and only then did Adrian slowly release me. “You like running away so much? Fine.” He wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth, enunciating each word. “Tomorrow you’ll go to the cathedral for Lily and pray.” “Do that, and I’ll let you see your mother.”

Ava’s POV I froze, tears of bitterness streaming down my face. The year Adrian and I first got together, I heard the nearby cathedral’s prayers were especially effective, so without telling him, I went to the cathedral alone early one morning to pray. I only asked God to have mercy and let Adrian regain his sight, to see me with his own eyes. When Adrian found out, he went on a hunger strike for three days, refusing even water, and finally landed himself in the hospital. He gripped my hand desperately, his voice breaking. “Ava, why are you so foolish? Promise me you’ll never go again, okay? I’d rather be blind forever than have you suffer…” But now? He was actually making me walk that path again-for another woman! I raised my hand and roughly wiped my eyes with my sleeve. “Fine. I agree.” The next day, before dawn, I was already standing at the cathedral entrance. Adrian lit a cigarette, and through the swirling smoke, mocked me. “It’s not too late to back out now.” I ignored him, gripping my cane, and slowly began. The cathedral’s prayer bells rang, as if returning me to years ago. My eyes had been full of hope then. “May the one I love regain his sight soon…” But this time, I closed my eyes. “I only ask to have nothing more to do with Adrian Reed.” Many passersby walked past the cathedral, curious and pitying gazes constantly falling on me. “This girl is blind, right? What’s she praying for so devoutly?” “Isn’t it obvious? She must be praying for sight.” “Maybe her love life is rough and she’s praying for romance?” I ignored them all, mechanically repeating my actions. An elderly priest happened to come out. He remembered me. Seeing my bedraggled state, he could only pray with compassion. “May the Lord bless you. I hope you can escape this suffering soon.” I pulled my lips into an ugly smile, my voice weak. “You’re teasing me again…” By afternoon, I was so exhausted I was nearly ready to pass out, but images of my mother lying in a hospital bed kept flashing through my mind. “Ava, almost there. You’re almost there…” My legs trembling, I took the cross the priest handed me. In that instant, the small cross felt as heavy as a branding iron, burning my palm. I fumbled to stand, staggering down the mountain. The path down was even harder than going up. By the time I returned to the Reed mansion, it was deep into the night. I was covered in mud, utterly disheveled. Voices drifted faintly from the living room. I paused mid-step, instinctively lightening my movements as I headed toward the sound. “Her mother’s been responding well to the new medication lately.” Adrian’s cold voice filtered through the half-open door. Joy leaped in my chest. Suddenly nothing hurt anymore. But the next second, Adrian sneered coldly. “Stop using it. Switch back to the old one. Just keep her alive. It doesn’t matter if she never wakes up.” “Only if Ava’s mother stays in the hospital forever will Ava obediently do what I say for the rest of her life.” How dare he do this! I slammed the door open, the force making it crash against the wall with a loud bang.

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Sixteen years ago, my uncle gifted me a studio apartment. Today, its value has skyrocketed to $8.65 million. My uncle suddenly called, saying he urgently needed $3.4 million for a crisis. I was a bit hesitant; after all, it’s a massive amount of money. Unexpectedly, my husband jumped in before I could speak: “When your uncle gave you that condo back then, he definitely wasn’t expecting anything in return, right?” I nodded. He sneered: “Then what right does he have to ask you for money now? “What he gave you back then is yours. Now that the property is worth a fortune, he wants to leech off it? Keep dreaming!” I froze completely. And my uncle, on the other end of the line, heard every single word. 1 A dead silence fell over the phone line. That silence, transmitted through the receiver, was like a freezing steel needle piercing straight into my eardrum. Every second felt like being roasted in boiling oil. I could imagine how my uncle’s honest, good-natured face must have turned ashen in that instant. “Uncle…” I forced the word out, my throat feeling like it was stuffed with waterlogged cotton. Beep. The call was disconnected. It wasn’t an angry slam of the phone, but the kind of disconnect where the phone simply slips from powerless fingers. My hand was still frozen in mid-air, the phone screen already dark. The bright lights in the living room now made me shiver with cold. Arthur, my husband, the man I had shared a bed with for five years, sat on the sofa opposite me. His face showed not a sliver of guilt; he even looked somewhat smug. “See? Hangs up the moment I call him out. Guilty conscience.” He picked up an apple from the coffee table and took a huge bite, the crisp sound echoing in the room. “I’m doing this for your own good, Chloe.” “You’re just too soft-hearted, too easily swayed.” “These poor relatives, they just see you living well now, your property worth a fortune, and think they can come looking for a handout.” “Today he has the nerve to ask for three point four million. Tomorrow he’ll ask for more.” “It’s a bottomless pit, and we are not jumping in.” Every word he said was like a poisoned knife, accurately stabbing the softest part of my heart. I looked at him. This face that I once thought was incredibly handsome and reliable now seemed so foreign, so ugly. “Arthur, that’s my uncle.” My voice was trembling, carrying an anger I hadn’t even realized I possessed. “When my parents passed away, all my relatives avoided me like the plague.” “It was my uncle. He emptied his life savings to buy me this condo, just to give me a roof over my head.” “That kind of grace can’t be measured with money.” Arthur scoffed, casually tossing the apple core into the trash can. “Grace? Can grace put food on the table?” “Wake up, Chloe! What kind of society do we live in now? You’re still hung up on that sentimental nonsense?” “When he bought you that condo, how much was it worth? A couple hundred grand, tops.” “And now? Eight point six five million!” His eyes gleamed with greed. The number coming from his mouth carried a scorching heat. “He’s trying to use a couple hundred grand investment to cash out over eight million from us.” “He’s got it all figured out, hasn’t he?” I felt all the blood in my body rush to my head in an instant. So in his eyes, my uncle’s kindness was nothing more than a calculated investment. “Us?” I caught the specific word he used, a chill rising from the soles of my feet. “Arthur, this condo is my pre-marital asset.” His face darkened instantly. “Chloe, what is that supposed to mean?” “We are husband and wife. Isn’t what’s yours also mine?” “Have I not worked hard for this family? Do I get no credit?” He started listing all his “sacrifices” over the years. Going to work every day, accompanying me to visit my family during the holidays. He even painted himself as a peerless, devoted husband who worked tirelessly for our family without complaint. But I only felt a deep sense of irony. We’ve been married for five years, and I’ve borne the brunt of the household expenses. Because my salary is higher than his. As for his money, in his words, “A man needs to socialize and save up for big things.” Now, he was starting to dream about that eight point six five million. “Once we sell this place, we’ll upgrade to a big mansion in the Southside, the kind with a garden.” “And we’ll buy a starter home downtown for my brother. He’s not getting any younger.” “With the rest, we’ll put it in savings, and that covers our future kids’ college funds.” He planned it out so naturally. As if my uncle’s existence was solely to provide him and his family with a more luxurious life. My heart went completely cold. This man, whom I had loved for five years, who I thought would be my rock for life. In the end, in his world, family ties, gratitude, everything paled in comparison to a fraction of that money. I didn’t want to argue with him anymore. Any words felt pale and powerless in the face of such naked greed. I turned, walked into the bedroom, and closed the door. Shutting out all his filthy words. I dug out an old photo album from the deepest part of my nightstand. The cover of the album was yellowed, the edges frayed. On the very first page was a photo of me and my uncle. I was sixteen that year, having just lost my parents, as thin as a reed. I wore an ill-fitting school uniform, my eyes full of fear and confusion. My uncle stood beside me, his rough, broad hand wrapped tightly around my shoulder. His face showed unconcealable exhaustion, but the look he gave me was full of determination and tenderness. The background of the photo was the very studio apartment I was living in now. Back then, this place was just a barren construction site. But my uncle pointed at the site and said to me: “Chloe, don’t be afraid. This will be your home from now on.” Tears, without any warning, smashed onto the photo album, blurring a small patch. The bedroom door was violently pushed open. Arthur barged in, reeking of alcohol. “Chloe, I’m warning you, you are not allowed to contact that uncle of yours again!” His face was flushed, his eyes fierce. “And don’t you dare bring up money! Not a single word!” “If you dare give him money behind my back, we are done!” I looked at him coldly. “Arthur, what gives you the right?” He was enraged by my glare, his voice sharply rising. “What gives me the right? Because I’m your husband!” “Everything you eat, wear, and use, what isn’t provided by our Vance family?” “You’re just an orphan with no parents! If I hadn’t been blind enough to marry you, who knows where you’d be drifting right now!” “Do you really think you’re some city socialite?” “Let me tell you, not a single one of those poor beggars from your side of the family is getting a dime from me!” Every sentence was like a resounding slap, landing hard on my face. So, in his heart, I was always just that orphan who had nothing. All my value was attached to that constantly appreciating piece of real estate. I looked at him and suddenly laughed. That laughter even felt strange to myself—shrill, yet full of desolation. This night was destined to be sleepless. I kept my eyes open, staring at the ceiling until the first glimmer of dawn peeked through the window. I made a decision. No matter what, I had to help my uncle. Even if it meant selling this condo. 2 The next day, the doorbell rang urgently and loudly. Through the peephole, I saw my mother-in-law, Martha’s, face etched with anxiety. I knew Arthur’s “reinforcements” had arrived. I opened the door, and Martha shoved past me, charging straight in. “Oh, my poor boy, what happened to you? You look awful.” She grabbed Arthur’s hand, looking him up and down as if he had suffered a massive grievance. Arthur immediately played along, putting on an exhausted and helpless expression. Martha turned her head, her gaze landing on me like a spotlight. “Chloe, I heard.” “Your uncle wants to borrow money from you?” The probing in her tone was as sharp as a needle. I gave a flat “Mm.” “How much?” “Over three million.” Martha gasped, her voice instantly becoming shrill. “Over three million? Why doesn’t he just go rob a bank!” “He’s trying to drain our family dry!” I looked at her coldly: “Mom, that’s my uncle, not a stranger.” “And, he just needs it to turn things around. It’s not like he won’t pay it back.” Martha plopped onto the sofa and started slapping her thigh, wailing. “What ‘turn things around’? When poor relatives borrow money, it’s like throwing meat buns at a dog—it never comes back!” “Chloe, oh Chloe, you can’t be so heartless!” “You’ve married into our Vance family now! Everything you have belongs to the Vance family!” “That condo of yours, even though you bought it before we got married, you married our Arthur, so it’s our family’s property too!” Her logic was literally the logic of a robber. I laughed out of sheer anger. “Mom, that’s really interesting.” “Since when did my condo become your family’s property?” Seeing I wasn’t buying it, Martha immediately changed her tune. She stopped crying, a shrewd, calculating look appearing on her face. “Chloe, let’s do this.” “Just to be safe, and to make your uncle completely give up.” “Add Arthur’s name to the property deed.” “That way, this condo becomes our joint marital property, and it won’t be so easy for him to scheme for it.” Finally, she showed her true colors. This was the real reason she came today. I refused without hesitation. “Impossible.” My one word was like a bucket of cold water, extinguishing her scheming. Martha’s face instantly turned a deep shade of purple. “You! You ungrateful wretch!” “Our Vance family must have had eight lifetimes of bad luck to marry a traitor like you!” Arthur, who had been silent on the side, finally found an opportunity to interject. He stood up, walked over to me, and looked down at me from a commanding height. “Chloe, what exactly do you take me and my mom for?” “We are a family!” “Why divide yours and mine in a family?” “You guarding against us like this, have you already planned your way out?” Every accusation he made felt like he was slapping a label of selfishness onto me. I was trembling with anger. “A family?” “My uncle is waiting for life-saving money right now, and what did you guys do?” “Have you treated them like family for even a second?” Martha jumped up from the sofa, pointing at my nose and cursing. “Whether your uncle’s son lives or dies, what does it have to do with our Vance family?” “Why should we use our own money to fill their bottomless pit?” That sentence was like a thunderclap exploding in my brain. I looked at the mother and son in front of me, at their self-righteous, cold-blooded, and ruthless faces. For the first time, I truly, genuinely entertained the thought of divorce. This home was not my home. They were not my family. They were just two leeches entrenched on my property, vainly attempting to suck me dry of my last drop of blood. I took a deep breath, suppressing the surging nausea in my stomach. “Get out.” My voice wasn’t loud, but it carried unquestionable resolve. Arthur and Martha were both stunned. They probably never expected that the usually docile me would say such a thing. “What did you say?” Arthur’s eyes widened. “I said, get out of my condo.” I enunciated every word clearly. Martha reacted and tried to lunge at me, throwing a tantrum. “You little bitch, you dare kick me out! I’ll beat you to death!” I sidestepped to avoid her and used all my strength to push them both toward the door. Arthur was still trying to reason, or rather, threaten me. “Chloe, you’re crazy! You’re going to sever ties with us over an outsider?” I didn’t answer. I just forcefully shoved them out the door. Then, with a loud bang, I slammed the door shut. I turned the key and deadbolted it. The world was finally quiet. I leaned against the cold door, my body sliding down uncontrollably. Yet a voice inside me told me with absolute clarity: This condo, this last shred of dignity, no one is going to take it away. 3 I sat on the cold floor until my legs went numb. After calming down, the first thing I did was return my uncle’s call. The phone rang for a long time before it was answered. “Hello?” It was my aunt’s voice, thick with a nasal tone and exhaustion. “Auntie, it’s me, Chloe.” “Where’s Uncle?” The line was silent for a moment before my uncle’s hoarse voice came through. “Chloe.” “Uncle is fine, don’t worry.” “Yesterday… I was out of line. Don’t fight with your husband over it.” He was still thinking of me. My eyes instantly welled up. “Uncle, please don’t say that.” “I’m the one who’s sorry.” “What exactly happened? You have to tell me.” Under my persistent questioning, my uncle finally told me the truth. My cousin, Leo, was diagnosed with acute leukemia. He needed an immediate bone marrow transplant. A match had been found, but the exorbitant $3.4 million surgical fee was like a mountain crushing this already modest family. “…Your cousin is still young, only twenty-five…” My uncle’s voice choked up. “The doctor said as long as we have the money, the success rate of the surgery is very high…” On my end of the line, I was already in tears. That was life-saving money. And I, because of Arthur’s bastard words, had wasted precious time. Guilt and self-blame drowned me like a tidal wave. “Uncle, don’t worry.” I wiped my tears, my voice carrying a firmness that even surprised me. “I’ll figure out the money.” “I will definitely get the money together for you in the shortest possible time.” Hanging up, I immediately opened my mobile banking app to check the joint account Arthur and I shared. But when I saw the balance, I was completely stunned. $36,217. We had been married for five years, and our combined salaries were over $30,000 a month. Minus daily expenses and the mortgage, we should have had at least a seven-figure sum saved up over five years. But now, there was only this fraction left. My heart sank, inch by inch. I called Arthur immediately. When the call connected, his voice still carried anger. “What? Figured it out? Ready to apologize to my mom?” I ignored his blustering and asked directly: “Where is the money in our joint account?” Arthur clearly paused. “What money? Isn’t it all in the card?” “Arthur, I’ll ask you one more time. Where did the money go?” My voice was ice-cold. He probably sensed something was wrong with me and started stammering. “It… it didn’t go anywhere…” “It’s just… my brother needed to buy a car a while ago, so I helped him out a bit.” “Also, my parents’ old house in the hometown needed renovating, so I took some money for that too…” “We’re all family, there’s no need to draw such a clear line…” My heart felt like it was being sliced open with a dull knife, cut by cut. So that was it. So the money I had worked so hard to save had become his capital to subsidize his original family. He used my money to play the role of the “filial son” and “good brother” for his family. Yet, when my uncle’s family was waiting for life-saving money, he spouted those cold-blooded, vicious words. I finally understood. In his heart, we were never a family. I was just an outsider, a host providing flesh and blood for him and his family. This realization struck me like lightning, leaving me freezing cold. I couldn’t rely on him. There was only one way left. Sell this apartment. I opened my laptop and started searching for real estate agents online. This place, which held all my youth and memories, my only sanctuary. Now, it was going to be used to save another family member’s life. I think, if this condo had feelings, it would support me too. My actions were quickly discovered by Arthur. Probably through my computer’s browsing history. He stormed into the study like an enraged lion. “Chloe! Don’t you dare!” He pointed at the agent’s contact info on the screen, his eyes bloodshot. “Let me tell you, don’t even think about selling this condo!” “Don’t even dream about it!” I looked up and met his gaze calmly. “Arthur, we’re done.” My relationship with him had completely hit rock bottom from the moment he insulted my uncle. And now, we were in the abyssal depths below that rock bottom. 4 Arthur and my mother-in-law, in an effort to stop me from selling the condo, started a ridiculous farce. They shadowed me constantly. If I went to the bathroom, my mother-in-law would stand guard at the door. If I went to the kitchen for water, Arthur would follow right behind me. They acted like two prison guards, watching me as if I were a hardened criminal. What’s worse, they confiscated my ID card, my household register, and the original property deed. “Chloe, let’s see how you sell the condo without these!” Arthur locked the documents in a safe, the smugness of a victor on his face. My mother-in-law chimed in from the side: “Exactly, let’s see what you can do now!” “Just stay home quietly and stop thinking about all that nonsense.” They thought this would give them complete control over me. I didn’t resist. I didn’t even argue with them. I just watched them silently, like watching a comical play. My submission made them lower their guard. They thought I had finally yielded and started flaunting their power in front of me. They mocked me every day, their words full of contempt and humiliation. “An orphan with no parents, really thinking she’s a big deal.” “If it weren’t for our Arthur, you’d still be living in some rundown shack.” “Now that your wings have grown a bit, you want to kick our Vance family to the curb?” I listened silently, etching all of this into my memory. But my eyes grew colder day by day. What they didn’t know was that I had reported my ID card lost and gotten a replacement a long time ago. The new ID card was lying quietly in a hidden compartment of a canvas tote bag I used often. They also didn’t know that for something as important as a property deed, how could I not have a backup plan? Copies, the purchase contract, all the relevant documents—I had backups of everything, hidden in a place they would never think of. I used the time when Arthur was at work and my mother-in-law was out grocery shopping to secretly meet with several real estate agents. I chose a middle-aged woman who looked the most professional and reliable. I laid out my situation entirely. After listening, the agent was filled with righteous indignation. “Girl, don’t you worry.” “I’ve seen this kind of thing plenty of times.” “Not having the original deed is a bit of a hassle, but it’s not completely impossible.” “As long as you have the purchase contract and your ID, we can sign an exclusive listing agreement first.” “I’ll help you navigate the rest of the process slowly.” Guided by the agent, I prepared all the necessary listing materials. Arthur and his mother were completely oblivious to this. They were still reveling in the thrill of controlling everything. Watching their smug faces, I felt no anger, only a bone-chilling coldness. That afternoon, while my mother-in-law was taking a nap and Arthur hadn’t finished work yet, I slipped out of the house and signed the exclusive listing agreement with the agent. The moment I signed my name. I knew my counterattack had officially begun. The first step went even smoother than I had imagined. 5 The process of selling the condo was slower than I expected. With every passing day, the anxiety in my heart grew. I was afraid my cousin’s illness couldn’t wait. To speed things up, the agent asked me to find all the old documents related to the condo to see if anything could be used. I dug out a dusty old leather suitcase. This was given to me by my uncle when we moved. He said it was just some unimportant old stuff and told me to put it away. For sixteen years, I had never opened it. I blew the dust off the suitcase and opened the rusted latch. Inside was a thick stack of documents. The original purchase contract, tax invoices, and some miscellaneous receipts. I carefully flipped through them. Hoping to find some useful clues. Just as I picked up the yellowing purchase contract, a folded piece of letter paper fell out from between the pages. The envelope was yellow and brittle, with no name on it. With a bit of confusion, I opened it with trembling hands. The familiar handwriting instantly brought tears to my eyes. It was my uncle’s handwriting. “Chloe, when you read this letter, Uncle might not be around anymore. There are some things I wanted to take to the grave, but after thinking about it, you deserve to know the truth.” My heart seized violently. Fighting back tears, I continued reading. The contents of the letter struck me like a bolt of lightning, splitting my entire being. It turned out that sixteen years ago, when my parents died in that car accident, the party at fault paid $1.2 million in compensation. In that era, this was an astronomical sum. But this money was completely divided up by my so-called relatives, like a pack of hungry wolves. They said I was a girl, destined to marry into another family, a financial burden, and didn’t deserve a penny of it. They said the money should be left for the male heirs of the family to carry on the bloodline. My uncle was just an ordinary worker back then, weak and outnumbered. He fought with them, argued with them, risked his life, and only managed to snatch back $300,000 from the wolves’ mouths. But my uncle felt that this was money bought with my parents’ lives. It was stained with blood and brought bad luck. He didn’t want this money to cast a shadow over my childhood. So, he made a decision. He took out his own hard-earned savings, half a lifetime’s worth, a full $200,000. He combined it with the $300,000, making $500,000. He paid entirely in cash to buy this studio apartment for me. He put the property in my name but told me he “gifted” it to me. He wanted to use this method to erase that ugly past. He wanted me to think that what I received was a pure love, devoid of any impurities. At the end of the letter, my uncle wrote: “Chloe, this is the last memento your parents left you, and it’s all Uncle can do for you.” “No matter what happens in the future, no matter what grievances you suffer, you must remember that this is your home.” “As long as you have this home, you have a foundation.” The letter slipped from my trembling hands. I could no longer control myself and burst into loud sobs. So that was it. This condo was never a gift. It was an inheritance bought with my parents’ lives. It was a sanctuary my uncle built for me with half his life’s blood, sweat, and tears. Hidden within it was the heavy love of my parents and the deepest protection of my uncle. And now, Arthur and Martha, this mother-and-son pair of executioners. What they wanted to snatch was not just a piece of real estate. They wanted to snatch my parents’ legacy, my uncle’s grace, my only root in this world. New grudges and old hatreds all surged into my heart in an instant. My tears slowly dried up. My gaze shifted from endless sorrow to a bone-deep coldness. Arthur, Martha. I’m not just going to win this battle. I’m going to win it spectacularly and make you pay the most agonizing price for your greed and shamelessness.

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I had just clipped the last shirt onto the drying rack when the doorbell rang. Little Zhao from property management stood at the door, pinching a complaint form in his hand. “Ms. Davis, someone reported you for unauthorized drying again.” I poked my head out to look at the balcony. Three shirts, two pairs of pants, one bedsheet. The drying rack was provided by the developer, and the balcony was enclosed. “What’s unauthorized about it?” Little Zhao scratched his head and lowered his voice: “Ms. Money on the fifth floor says the bedsheet you hung is too big. People can see it from downstairs, and it affects the aesthetic of the community.” I live on the seventh floor with an enclosed balcony. Martha Money lives on the fifth floor. What angle did she have to twist her neck to see what I was drying? “Ms. Davis, please do me a favor and take it down.” Little Zhao had a bitter expression. “She can call twelve times a day.” Twelve times. I silently took down the shirts and the pants. The bedsheet was too big; I had to fold it twice to stuff it into the basin. That night, I spread the wet clothes over the back of a chair in my bedroom and closed the window. The whole room felt damp. Martha Money didn’t know that the solar energy system on the roof of this very building she complained about— I designed it. And I paid for it out of my own pocket. 01 After Little Zhao left, I tossed the complaint form into a drawer. There were already seven forms accumulated in that drawer. The earliest one was from three months ago. The content: Seventh-floor resident placed a shoe rack in the public corridor, obstructing passage. My shoe rack is 12 inches wide. The corridor is 6 feet wide. Property management posted a rectification notice, and I moved the shoe rack inside. The second one, two months ago. Content: Seventh-floor resident keeps a pet, suspected of not having a dog license. I have a cat. Cats don’t need dog licenses. But property management still knocked on my door and asked me to show a “pet registration certificate.” I spent half a day going to the community center to get the certificate. The third one, a month and a half ago. Content: Seventh-floor resident making noise late at night, disturbing the peace. That day, I worked overtime until eleven o’clock and came home to take a shower. I used the hairdryer for eight minutes. Martha Money said I woke her up. I live on the seventh floor. She lives on the fifth floor. There are two floors between us. The complaints that followed got increasingly ridiculous. Saying I watered flowers on my balcony and the water dripped onto her windowsill. An enclosed balcony—how did the water drip down two floors? Saying my cat’s meowing was too loud. My cat is a British Shorthair, with a personality just like mine—a quiet type. Saying I leave early and come back late every day, acting suspiciously. Property management was too embarrassed to show me that last complaint. Little Zhao told me privately and told me not to take it to heart. I really didn’t take it to heart. I just didn’t understand— Why was Martha Money targeting me? Mrs. Young helped clear my confusion. Mrs. Young lives on the sixth floor, right between me and Martha Money. One day after work, I ran into her in the elevator. She pulled my arm and whispered: “Chloe, did you offend Martha Money?” I shook my head. “I haven’t even spoken five sentences to her in total.” Mrs. Young sighed. “Then there’s no reason. That’s just how she is. She bullies whoever she can catch.” Mrs. Young said that before retiring, Martha Money worked at a service window for a local neighborhood committee. She did it for over twenty years and developed a habit— She had to manage everything and control everyone. After she retired and had no one to manage, she treated the whole building as her territory. “Last year, little Liu on the fourth floor was forced out by her just three months after moving in.” Mrs. Young lowered her voice. “They just put a stroller in the hallway. She reported them every day and made passive-aggressive comments in the homeowners’ group chat, saying things like, ‘Some people have low class. If they can’t afford to live in a nice community, they shouldn’t force their way in.’” “Liu’s wife had just given birth and cried from anger. In the end, they rented out the apartment and moved away.” I didn’t say anything. Mrs. Young patted the back of my hand. “Don’t take it too seriously. She’s just like that. Everyone just humors her.” Humors her. I’ve heard these three words no less than ten times. Little Zhao said: Humor her. She’ll stop when she’s had enough. Manager Liu from property management said: Ms. Money is just overly enthusiastic. Don’t take it to heart. Even my mom said on the phone: A close neighbor is better than a distant relative. Just endure it. I looked at the seven complaint forms in my drawer and arranged them by date. Endure it. Okay. 02 The eighth complaint came sooner than I expected. Saturday morning at nine o’clock, I was cooking noodles in the kitchen. The doorbell rang. This time it wasn’t Little Zhao; it was Manager Liu in person. Martha Money stood behind him. Martha Money is in her early fifties, with permed, reddish-brown curly hair. She was wearing a purple embroidered jacket and a gold necklace. Her arms were crossed over her chest, her chin slightly raised. That posture was all too familiar. The standard stance of a complaint window clerk. “Comrade Chloe Davis,” Manager Liu cleared his throat, “Ms. Money reported that your cat defecated in the hallway, affecting public sanitation.” “My cat never leaves the apartment.” “Then where did that lump in the hallway come from?” Martha Money pulled up a photo on her phone. I took a look. It was a grayish-black lump in the stairwell corner between the sixth and seventh floors. “Is this cat poop?” I asked. “If it’s not cat poop, what is it?” Martha Money’s voice rose. “Mud.” I pointed at the photo and zoomed in. “Look, there are crushed leaves in here.” “Last week, when the roof water pipe was repaired, a worker tracked mud down.” “Little Zhao even sent a notice in the homeowners’ group chat that day.” Martha Money’s face stiffened for a second. But only for a second. “That still doesn’t prove your cat hasn’t pooped in the hallway!” She turned to Manager Liu. “Did you investigate? Did you test it?” Manager Liu stood in the middle, looking back and forth. Finally, he coughed. “Ms. Davis, how about you send the cat to a pet store for boarding? It would save us from having constant disputes.” I heard him right. She falsely accused me, and the conclusion was that I had to send my cat away. “No.” Martha Money glared: “What kind of attitude is that?” “My attitude is very good. The cat stays. If there’s nothing else, I’m going to continue cooking my noodles.” I closed the door. The noodles were already mushy. I thought she would calm down for a few days. She didn’t. Coming home from work on Monday, Mrs. Young was waiting for me at the building entrance. She didn’t look well. “Chloe, you should check the homeowners’ group chat.” I opened my phone. The group chat had exploded. Martha Money had sent a long message, over three hundred words, every word a vicious attack: “Neighbors, it’s not that I’m being nosy. Ever since that young woman on the seventh floor moved in, our building hasn’t had a day of peace. She keeps a cat without closing her windows, and its meowing disturbs everyone. She piles junk in the hallway, and her shoe rack blocks the way. She blows her hair in the middle of the night, making the whole building vibrate. As a senior resident, what’s wrong with me making a suggestion? She slammed the door right in my face. I’m a woman in my fifties being bullied by a young person. Is no one going to do anything about this?” Over three hundred words, and not a single one was true. But people in the group were already replying. “Don’t be angry, Ms. Money. Young people don’t know any better.” “Yeah, Ms. Money worries so much about our building.” “I’ve seen that girl on the seventh floor. She’s cold as ice, not easy to get along with.” I scrolled to the last message. It was from old Mr. Zhou on the third floor. “Ms. Money is right. In an old community like ours, we have to rely on enthusiastic neighbors to manage things, otherwise it’ll be chaos.” I placed my phone on my lap. There were forty-seven people in the group. Eleven had replied, uniformly taking her side. Thirty-five remained silent. Not a single person spoke up for me. Not one. Mrs. Young sighed beside me. “I wanted to say something to help you, but…” “It’s fine.” I cut her off. “Mrs. Young, it’s really fine.” She looked at me hesitantly, but eventually walked away. I stood at the building entrance and read the group messages one more time. Then I exited the homeowners’ group chat. That night, I opened my laptop and pulled up the backend of the roof solar energy system. All operating data was normal. Sixty-two monocrystalline silicon panels, with a total installed capacity of 18.6 kilowatts. The energy storage battery pack had a capacity of 50 kilowatt-hours. It was connected to the entire building’s public lighting and hot water circulation system. Every household saved three to five hundred dollars a month on electricity. This was the plan I personally designed two years ago. Material costs, installation fees, grid connection fees—it cost forty-three thousand dollars in total. The company subsidized twenty thousand, and I paid the remaining twenty-three thousand myself. Because this was an extension project for my graduation thesis. Demonstration Project of Distributed Photovoltaic Retrofit in Old Residential Communities. I needed real operational data to complete my follow-up paper. When I initially went to talk to property management, Manager Liu readily agreed the moment he heard they didn’t have to pay anything. My only condition was— Reserve an installation spot on the roof for my data collection terminal. The agreement was signed, the system was installed, and the entire building’s public electricity bill dropped by sixty percent. But from beginning to end, property management never mentioned to the residents who installed this system. The owners only knew that “the community upgraded to solar energy.” They didn’t know I provided the money, drew the blueprints, and supervised the construction. I closed my laptop. I hadn’t planned on telling anyone about this. Research is research, neighbors are neighbors. I’m not the kind of person who exchanges favors for gratitude. But tonight, looking at those comments in the group chat, I suddenly felt— I might have been too polite to this building. 03 Martha Money had tasted sweetness. The vocal support from the homeowners’ group made her even more self-righteous. Three days after I left the group, she did something. Something that completely crossed my bottom line. That day after work, I went home as usual. When I got to the seventh floor, I found a piece of paper taped to my door. A sheet of A4 paper, handwritten with a thick black marker. It had a few large words: “PLEASE BE CIVILIZED WHEN KEEPING PETS!!!” Three exclamation marks, each one pressed so hard it indented the paper. The paper was taped right in the middle of my security door with clear tape. When I peeled it off, it took a piece of paint with it. I crumpled the paper into a ball and threw it in the trash can. As I walked in, I smelled a pungent odor. I looked down. A layer of white powder was sprinkled on the doormat. I crouched down and sniffed it. Mothballs. Crushed mothball powder. Cats are allergic to camphor. Inhaling too much can cause poisoning. I rushed into the apartment. Pudding was curled up on the sofa, sleeping. He is a three-year-old British Shorthair with grayish-blue fur, a round face, and round eyes, as fat as a furball. I picked him up and checked him all over. No abnormalities. The camphor powder on the doormat was blocked outside when I closed the door; it hadn’t drifted inside. I went back out, rolled up the doormat, and threw it in the trash. Then I crouched in the hallway, using a wet rag to wipe the floor inch by inch. I wiped for twenty minutes. My knees ached from kneeling. Halfway through wiping, the elevator doors opened. Martha Money came out to take out the trash. She saw me crouching on the floor wiping, a faint smile on the corners of her mouth. “Oh, if it isn’t little Chloe from the seventh floor.” “Wiping the hallway? That’s the way. If you keep a cat, you have to be diligent.” She walked past me carrying the trash bag, her slippers stepping over the floor I had just wiped clean. Leaving two dusty footprints. I didn’t look up. I didn’t look at her. And I didn’t speak. I just wrung out the rag again and wiped away those two footprints. Martha Money came back after throwing away the trash and passed by me again. This time she stopped for two seconds, looking down at me. “Young people should do more work. It’s good for you.” “It’s better than serving a cat like it’s your ancestor all day long.” She finished speaking, walked into the elevator, and pressed the button for the fifth floor. The elevator doors closed. The hallway went quiet. I gripped the rag tightly, my nails digging into my palms. That night, I gave Pudding a physical exam. All his vitals were normal. But I still wasn’t relieved. I spent an hour online looking up the symptoms of camphor poisoning. Vomiting, convulsions, liver damage. In severe cases, death. She was genuinely trying to harm my cat. It wasn’t a report; it wasn’t a complaint. It was deliberate harm. I sat on the sofa holding Pudding. He nuzzled his head into the crook of my arm like usual. Purring loudly. I’ve had him for three years. From when he was a month old and smaller than my palm, until now. I have no friends and no relatives in this city. My parents are back in our hometown; I see them once a year. My relationships with colleagues are superficial; after work, we all go our separate ways. Every day when I return to this 650-square-foot apartment, only Pudding is at the door waiting for me. He doesn’t mind that I don’t talk much, doesn’t mind that I’m boring. If I work overtime until midnight, he just lies quietly in the entryway. Only lifting his head when he hears the key turning, slowly walking over to rub against my ankles. He is my family. Martha Money doesn’t know this. And she doesn’t care. In her eyes, I am just a young tenant who is easy to bully. I don’t argue, I don’t cause trouble, I just take it. She was wrong. I don’t just take it. I just don’t want to waste time on people who aren’t worth it. But she touched Pudding. That changes things. The next day, I did three things. First: I installed a twenty-dollar security camera at my door. The recording angle covered the entire hallway. Second: I put weather stripping around my doorframe to prevent powder from drifting in. Third: I opened my phone and ordered a new smart lock online. Fingerprint and passcode dual lock. The installation technician asked what to do with the old lock. I said throw it away. Pudding lay on the shoe cabinet, watching me change the lock. His round eyes unblinking. “Don’t be afraid.” I patted his head. “I’ll protect you.” 04 On the third day after the camera was installed, it caught Martha Money. At 6:12 AM. She walked up from the fifth floor wearing pajamas, carrying a plastic bag. She squatted at my door, took something out of the bag, and sprinkled it on my doormat. The whole process took forty-seven seconds. Captured clearly. I took screenshots and saved the original video. I didn’t make a fuss. That same afternoon, the ninth complaint form arrived. This time, the content made me laugh. “Seventh-floor resident privately installed a camera in the public corridor, invading neighbors’ privacy.” When Little Zhao handed me the form, he looked very troubled. “Ms. Davis, Ms. Money says she’s going to go to the media.” “Let her.” “Huh?” “I installed the camera because someone was placing hazardous substances at my door.” I showed Little Zhao the video on my phone. Just one glance, for two seconds. Little Zhao’s face turned pale. “This… this is too much…” “I’m not pursuing this matter for now.” I took my phone back. “But the camera stays.” “If she feels uncomfortable being filmed, she doesn’t have to come to the seventh floor.” Little Zhao’s legs were shaking when he left. A twenty-three-year-old guy, on the job for less than a year, caught in the middle and taking heat from both sides. I felt a bit sorry for him, but I couldn’t help him. I thought having video evidence would make Martha Money back off. She didn’t. She just changed her approach. On Wednesday night, in the homeowners’ group chat—yes, even though I had left the group, Mrs. Young would forward messages to me—Martha Money posted an even longer message: “Just a heads up to all neighbors, the woman on the seventh floor installed a camera in the hallway! It’s pointed at the elevator and stairwell! Whatever you’re wearing when you go out is being recorded! Those of you with elderly people or children at home, be careful. Who knows what she’s going to do with those recordings. Young people these days are very scheming.” The chat blew up. “What? Installed a camera? That’s too much!” “Who gave her permission? Isn’t property management going to do something?” “Isn’t this an invasion of privacy? We can call the police now.” “I walk past the seventh floor every day, was I recorded?” Seventeen replies, and not a single person asked why she installed it. Not a single person thought— Why would a young woman living alone spend twenty dollars to install a camera at her door? Martha Money added another message in the group: “I heard that last time property management went to talk to her, her attitude was terrible and she slammed the door right in their faces. Our community doesn’t have room for people like this!” Mrs. Young forwarded the screenshot to me and added: “Chloe, maybe you should explain in the group?” Explain what? Explain that she sprinkled mothball powder at my door to poison my cat? What if she denies it? Post the video? And then what? She’ll cry, say she’s old and confused, and ask everyone to judge whether it’s right for a young person to be so hard on a woman in her fifties. I’ve seen this script too many times. In the end, she would be the “overly enthusiastic elderly person.” And I would be the “petty young person.” No explaining. No arguing back. No posting the video. It’s not time yet. “Mrs. Young, thank you. I’m fine.” I replied with that single sentence, then placed my phone face down on the table. Pudding jumped onto the table and rubbed his head against my hand. I stroked his back. One stroke, two strokes. I was calculating a debt in my head. 05 Martha Money’s tenth report finally moved from online to offline. The neighborhood committee organized a “Civilized Building” evaluation symposium. They called it a symposium, but it was really just representatives from each building sitting together to chat. Martha Money appointed herself the “representative” of our building. No one fought her for it. I didn’t plan to go. Manager Liu called and asked me to attend. “Ms. Davis, Ms. Money has raised some concerns about you. It would be better if you came to respond in person.” “If you don’t come, it’ll just be her side of the story.” I went. In the community activity room, there were about twenty plastic chairs arranged around a long table. Director Ma sat at the head, with Manager Liu next to him. When I arrived, Martha Money was already seated, and she brought two people with her—old Mr. Zhou from the third floor and Ms. Zhao from the fourth floor. Her cheering squad. I found a seat in the corner. Director Ma gave a brief opening remark, then asked the building representatives to speak. Martha Money was the first to raise her hand. She cleared her throat and stood up. “Director Ma, I’m reflecting an issue on behalf of all the residents of Building 7.” She pulled a notebook out of her bag, its pages densely covered in writing. “The tenant on the seventh floor—” She glanced at me. “—has a lot of problems.” Then she began reading. Keeping a cat that disturbs the peace. Cluttering the hallway. Late-night noise. Installing a camera that invades privacy. Unauthorized drying on the balcony. Not participating in community activities. Not paying the public maintenance fund. That last one made me pause. I pay it every month. Auto-deduction. Never missed a payment. But I didn’t interrupt her. Martha Money finished reading, closed her notebook, and delivered her concluding remarks: “Director Ma, I’m not targeting anyone, but a resident like this seriously affects our building’s civilized environment. I suggest property management communicate with the landlord and ask her to move out.” Ask me to move out. The room was quiet for a few seconds. Old Mr. Zhou chimed in: “Ms. Money is right. Our building has always been a civilized building. We can’t let one bad apple ruin the whole bunch.” Ms. Zhao nodded: “Exactly, exactly.” Director Ma looked at me. “Chloe, do you have anything to say?” Over twenty pairs of eyes looked at me. Some curious, some sympathetic, some just watching the show. Not a single pair was on my side. I stood up. “First, I am not a tenant. I am the owner. My name is on the property deed.” “Second, my maintenance fund is set to auto-deduct every month. Here are the deduction records.” I held up my phone. Martha Money’s expression changed. “Third, regarding the camera.” I paused for a second. The whole room was waiting. “I installed the camera because someone was placing hazardous substances at my door, endangering my pet’s safety.” “I have video evidence.” Martha Money stood up abruptly. “Nonsense! What evidence do you have!” Her voice was shrill and piercing. I looked at her. “I said someone. I didn’t say who.” “Ms. Money, why are you getting so worked up?” The room went quiet again. Martha Money froze. She realized she had overreacted, her face turning a dark, liver-red color. Old Mr. Zhou quickly tried to smooth things over: “Alright, alright, young people have sharp tongues. Ms. Money, don’t lower yourself to her level.” Director Ma played the peacemaker, saying “Neighbors should be understanding of each other.” The symposium ended without any resolution. But as I walked out of the activity room, I heard what Martha Money said to Ms. Zhao behind my back. She thought I was far away. I wasn’t. I had walked two steps and stopped, standing around the corner. “Don’t worry, I’ve already spoken to Manager Liu.” Martha Money’s voice was low and confident. “When parking spaces are reallocated next month, they’re going to reassign her B12 spot to my son.” “She’s just a young girl who rides an electric scooter. Why does she need a parking spot?” Ms. Zhao laughed: “Ms. Money, you’re amazing.” “Of course.” Martha Money scoffed. “And she threatened me with a video? I’d like to see what’s stronger, her camera or my connections.” I stood around the corner, my back pressed against the wall. My fingers slowly curled into fists, then relaxed. Okay. Very well.

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In our fifteenth year of marriage, my husband, a Major General, cheated on me. I had planned to endure it, but the young girl couldn’t wait and came straight to our door. “Mrs. Hayes, we are truly in love. Please, let us be together.” Looking at Mia’s teary eyes, my heart turned to ash. It turned out the vows of our youth had long since expired. That night, I slept beside Arthur as usual. “Mia came to see me.” “Mm.” No explanation, not even a trace of emotion. “Arthur, you cheated!” I couldn’t help but raise my voice. “Chloe, we are completely innocent. Nothing happened between us. Could you stop making blind guesses like a bitter housewife?!” Innocent? If you were so innocent, would Mia have come to the door demanding a title? Things were at a standstill for a while. Until I came home early from a business trip. The moment I opened the door, I saw Mia wearing my pajamas, nestled in Arthur’s arms. Seeing me enter, Arthur tightened his arm around the girl, his eyes full of warning. I looked at him calmly. “Arthur, let’s get a divorce.” … Arthur refused, claiming he “hadn’t violated any fundamental disciplinary rules.” He mobilized every force he could to persuade me. My parents-in-law, whom I had taken care of for nearly twenty years, said to me: “Arthur knows his limits; things definitely haven’t gone that far. Just bear with it. Once this blows over, we’ll have him transfer the title of that new apartment downtown to your name.” An old army buddy of ours advised me: “What could that young girl from the entertainment troupe possibly be after? Isn’t it just Arthur’s current status? Given his rank, his benefits will only get better. Letting go now, aren’t you being foolish?” My best friend, whose own husband, a regular non-commissioned officer often away from home, also had a lover at the base, sighed: “Let it go, Chloe. As long as he wears that uniform and is away all year, these things are inevitable. At least Arthur is a commander. He commands respect outside, and he provides a solid life at home. If you divorce, do you think you can find someone better?” You see, it was as if that military uniform and the stars on his shoulders had become some sort of immunity, capable of canceling out all the betrayal and ugliness in a marriage. I remained silent, beginning to organize the bank statements and property deeds from all these years. My dad rushed over when he heard the news. As soon as he walked in, without a word, he slapped me across the face. He was trembling with anger: “What successful man isn’t busy? So what if he has a few female comrades who admire him around? He’s provided you with a life of luxury for over a decade; he’s done right by you! You insist on making a scene, making everyone a laughingstock? Look at your age. If you divorce, who would want you?” He looked ruddy and healthy. It seemed his new wife was taking good care of him, and his new son was smart too, so naturally, he had no time to consider the feelings of his daughter from a previous marriage. The last person to come and pressure me was my son, who was currently in a military academy prep program. He came back for the weekend. I instinctively reached out to take his backpack. He dodged to the side, staring straight at me: “Mom, why do you insist on divorcing Dad?” My heart, which had remained steadfast before all outsiders, violently contracted. “Your dad… he has another woman. Mom can’t live with him anymore.” “You mean Mia? Dad said she’s just a regular comrade. She admires him, so they’re a bit close, that’s all.” My son looked at me impatiently, his expression identical to Arthur’s. “Mom, you’ve lived a life of leisure for half your life. If you leave Dad, can you really make it? If you end up struggling, I won’t be able to look after you every day.” To be honest, before he came back, I still held onto a sliver of hope. I thought, this child I raised single-handedly would at least give me a hug. He would angrily confront his dad, he would stand on my side, and he would share my disdain for the betrayal. I never expected that the moment he returned, he would yell at me like that, then slam the door to his room. Bang! That loud noise left my ears ringing, and my legs felt weak. Chloe, how did you… end up living like this? That night, while I was showering, Arthur walked into the bathroom for the first time in ages. I couldn’t even remember how long it had been since we were last intimate. When he walked in, the look in his eyes was still devoid of warmth. But his movements didn’t stop. With a business-like familiarity, his hands roamed over my body. “Stop making a fuss, okay?” “I’ll have her transferred tomorrow. We won’t see each other again.” My body gradually heated up under his touch, but my heart felt like it was freezing over. I closed my eyes, letting my tears mix with the hot water. “Arthur.” “Mm?” “Have you slept together?” “…” The silence was the answer. A surge of anger shot straight to my head. “You… you really disgust me.” Arthur’s movements stopped. Then, in a fit of anger, he shoved me away. Chapter 2 My ankle hit the cold tiles, sending a piercing pain up my leg. Before I could react, he grabbed my chin roughly and dragged me to the mirror. “I disgust you? Look at yourself!” “Look at this haircut, what does it even look like? And this,” he crudely grabbed my chest, “it lost its shape ages ago! And look at your face, you’ve got age spots!” “Chloe, do you look anything like you used to?” His eyes were as cold as ice, his fingers gripping me hard enough to cause pain. “If we just live like this, I guarantee you a lifetime of stability. If we divorce, don’t you dare regret it.” Long after Arthur slammed the door and left, I was still shivering naked in the bathroom. I couldn’t believe this man, who had weathered twenty years of storms with me, could say such cruel things. Or perhaps, he had changed long ago, and I was just blinded by the title of “military wife”? I clenched my fists tightly, my nails digging into my palms. The sharp pain cleared my muddled brain bit by bit. Arthur, do you think I have no choice but to rely on you? Are you certain I wouldn’t dare do anything to you? Just you wait. I am definitely getting this divorce. When I went downstairs early the next morning, Arthur was uncharacteristically in the kitchen. My son, Leo, was already sitting at the dining table. Seeing me, he immediately lowered his head, making it clear he didn’t want to talk. Arthur, however, played the peacemaker, saying gently to our son: “Didn’t we agree last night to be understanding of your mother?” Only then did Leo reluctantly call out: “Mom.” “Son, training is hard. Come eat, I fried your favorite eggs.” Arthur looked at me, a clear smugness hidden in his eyes. I didn’t speak, just sat down silently. Not long after, the doorbell rang. The young orderly brought Mia in. “Good morning, Mrs. Hayes! Comrade Mia is here to deliver the performance approval documents to the commander.” In front of everyone, their fingers briefly brushed against each other. Leo showed no reaction, even greeting her: “Mia, have you had breakfast? Want to join us?” Mia acted coy, but then sat right down in the seat I usually took. As if deliberately trying to anger me, Leo pushed the glass of milk I had just poured for myself over to Mia. And got her a clean plate. Mia also went all out to please Leo: “Leo is so handsome and well-behaved! I thought you’d be like…” she glanced at me, “…that you wouldn’t like me.” “My mom might be in a bad mood recently, a bit suspicious. Don’t mind her, Mia.” Over breakfast, the two actually chatted quite amicably. I stopped listening after Leo said I was “suspicious.” I put down my chopsticks, picked up my coat, and walked straight out the door. I was going to find someone, an old classmate I hadn’t contacted in over a decade. My first love, now a top-tier lawyer even recognized by the military courts—Liam. Chapter 3 In a cafe outside the military base, I told Liam about wanting a divorce. He took a sip of his coffee, lifting his eyes to look at me: “Willing to give up your perks as the ‘Commander’s Wife’?” After all these years, his temper was still as stubborn and harsh as ever. If it hadn’t been for his personality back then, I wouldn’t have… Too lazy to banter with him, I pulled a card out of my bag and slid it over. “I’ve asked around. Your consulting fees are quite high now. Here is the retainer; I’ll pay the balance when it’s done. This is a strictly professional relationship, no personal feelings involved.” Liam picked up the card, inspected it, flicked it with his finger, and slipped it into his breast pocket. “Deal, employer comrade.” On the way back, he offered to drop me off. Compared to my so-called “happy family,” he seemed much more solitary these years. I heard his wife passed away from illness years ago, leaving no children. So he threw all his energy into his cases, becoming known in the system as the “Cold-Faced Judge.” Liam drove a modified, rugged off-road vehicle with high clearance and a deep, powerful engine roar. I couldn’t help but frown: “In your forties and still driving this kind of car?” He raised an eyebrow: “Wasn’t this your favorite back then? You said I looked best driving a Jeep, forgotten?” I choked for a moment. In my early twenties, I was indeed fascinated by things exuding power. But after so many years… “Getting older, can’t handle it anymore,” I brushed it off. Liam didn’t reply, but the corners of his mouth seemed to twitch upward. After getting out, I transferred him two hundred dollars on WeChat. Liam sent a question mark. I replied: [Gas money.] Liam: [Received, employer comrade.] Though sharp-tongued, Liam was undeniably professional. He gave me a detailed checklist, teaching me how to gather evidence without alerting the enemy. Following his guidance, I managed to trace the transactions of Arthur’s main accounts and, through some old connections, found a reliable private investigator who snapped photos of his “secret love nest.” It turned out to be an old apartment registered under my name. We lived there during our dating years and early marriage. Later, as he rose through the ranks quickly, we moved into the current commander’s quarters, and that apartment had been empty, occasionally used for storage. I hadn’t been there in years. Arthur actually set Mia up there? I dug out the dust-covered key and opened the apartment door. The layout hadn’t changed, but there were many new signs of life. It was obvious that Mia truly wanted to be the lady of this house. From the kitchen wafted the aroma of stewing soup, a small clay pot sitting on the stove. If that soup wasn’t the exact recipe I had tried countless times to perfect in order to soothe his sensitive stomach. Then I might have “praised” them: What a deeply affectionate couple. But I had only ever given that recipe to my mother-in-law. What this meant was self-evident. The continuous backstabbing made me go cold all over, even making me wonder if I was such a failure that everyone close to me chose to easily hurt me? While my emotions were churning, the sound of a key turning in the lock suddenly came from the door. Mia’s cheerful voice entered first: “I’m so exhausted—” Immediately following was the sound of her throwing herself into someone’s arms. “Arthur! It’s wonderful! I’m pregnant! We finally have a daughter!” Arthur’s voice carried a doting tone I hadn’t heard in ages: “Careful, don’t be so clumsy.” He looked up and saw me standing in the middle of the living room. Chapter 4 For the first time, I saw an expression called “panic” on Arthur’s face. He probably never dreamed he would run into me here. At this moment, however, I was exceptionally calm. I took out my phone and tapped record. Reacting, he immediately stepped forward to grab it. I took a step back, my voice steady but carrying undeniable force: “Arthur, think carefully. I’ve installed hidden cameras in this apartment. If the footage gets out, what happens to your reputation, and the military’s prestige?” Arthur’s breathing grew heavy. He had been in a high position for a long time, accustomed to controlling everything. My “loss of control” irritated him, and even more so, made him feel his authority was being challenged. “Chloe, stop messing around! Go home right now!” “I want a divorce.” “I told you, impossible!” “Then there’s nothing to talk about. We go do the paperwork tomorrow, otherwise, I can’t guarantee where these materials will end up.” “What are you making a scene for!” The veins on his temples throbbed. “Have you thought about the impact? About my parents? About Leo’s future!” When he mentioned our son, I finally completely broke down. I grabbed the ceramic vase off the coffee table and smashed it fiercely onto the floor! “Shut up! Don’t bring them up! You don’t have the right—!” I rushed forward and slapped him with all my might. “You bastard! Did you think about them when you cheated? Did you think about them when you had a child with someone else? Now that I’ve cornered you here, you’re telling me to think about them?! Arthur, your fucking selfishness needs to have a limit!” With that, I turned and left, slamming the door heavily behind me. I went straight to Liam’s law firm. “You look awful. Did you lay your cards on the table?” “Yeah. That woman… is pregnant.” “What are your plans now?” I forced a smile, but couldn’t quite manage it: “What other plans could there be? Having reached this point, the way back has long been cut off.” Liam was silent for a moment, then pushed the tissue box on the desk towards me. This subtle gesture strangely eased my frayed nerves. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have taken it out on you.” He shrugged: “It’s fine. The employer is always right.” … Liam analyzed that the current situation was very favorable to me. The videos and photos in my possession, combined with the fact that Arthur had formed a de facto marital relationship with another woman outside of our marriage and conceived a child (even if unborn), would be a massive bargaining chip in a military divorce lawsuit and property division. Listening to him, my mind felt numb. There was none of the anticipated satisfaction, only deep exhaustion and emptiness. When I left the firm, he offered to drive me, but I declined. I needed to walk alone. Chapter 5 I walked for a long time along the secluded, tree-lined road on the outskirts of the military base. From our youth until now, we had far too many memories. My in-laws were traditional, hoping for a house full of children and grandchildren. They had hinted and explicitly urged us to have a second child countless times, but Arthur always deflected it. He said my health suffered when I gave birth to Leo, and he couldn’t bear for me to suffer again. I was carefully protected behind him like this, content to be his “home front,” forgetting that the person holding me up would also get tired arms, and a changing heart. Actually, Mia wasn’t the first blurry figure to appear beside him, but she was the first he tacitly allowed, even indulged, to parade right in front of me. He was testing me, testing the limits of my tolerance for this marriage. Perhaps, deep down, he had even harbored the ridiculous fantasy of “having his cake and eating it too.” When I got home, my in-laws were both there. Mia was surrounded by them, a shy yet sweet smile on her face. Arthur sat to the side. He looked up and saw me. The red mark on his face hadn’t completely faded. When he saw no wavering in my expression, the last sliver of luck in his eyes also vanished. We had been together for fifteen years; some things didn’t need to be spoken. His face darkened as he said to Mia: “You head back first.” The laughter filling the room abruptly ceased. Mia was stunned: “W-why? Your parents are still here…” “I said go, so go.” Arthur’s tone was an unquestionable command. In this house, his will was the highest directive. My in-laws exchanged glances but didn’t dare speak. My mother-in-law shot me a disgruntled glare. Arthur called a driver, and Mia left, looking back repeatedly, looking terribly wronged. Leo got anxious and yelled at me: “Mom! What are you doing now! Mia came to see me! She’s my friend!” For the first time, I didn’t try to smooth things over. I looked at him with a cold smile: “Being friends with your dad’s ‘girlfriend’?” “I told you it’s a misunderstanding! They just have normal interactions!” “Mia is pregnant with your dad’s child.” Leo looked as if someone had hit the pause button. He snapped his head to look at Arthur: “Dad… really?”

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Over winter break, an “@ everyone” tag from my desk mate’s father suddenly popped up in the class group chat. He said his daughter had gone out to hang out with me and was now unreachable, demanding I reply immediately. He also threatened that if anything happened to his daughter, he wouldn’t let me off the hook. A chill ran down my spine. She hadn’t come to see me at all. I had been home studying all day, hadn’t even stepped out the door. I typed an explanation, saying she wasn’t with me. The group fell dead silent. He didn’t reply again. I thought the matter was over. Until midnight, when he pried open my front door and barged in holding a knife. Our family of four—none of us escaped. Right before I died, he choked me and roared, blaming me for inviting his daughter out, claiming it was my fault she got tricked into running away with some delinquent. As I took my last breath, all I remembered were his bloodshot eyes. I opened my eyes, and my phone buzzed again. That same “@ everyone” tag in the group chat, identical word for word… 1 “This is Lily Evans’s parent, tagging everyone in the group. Lily has run away from home several times, and this time she’s been gone for two days. Whichever parent is harboring her, bear the consequences. She said she’s at Chloe Miller’s house.” My phone buzzed. Staring at this message, a cold sweat instantly broke out on my back. Lily Evans. Her father. That middle-aged man who barged into my house with a knife and murdered my entire family of four. That animal who choked me and, right before I died, gritted his teeth and said, “It’s all your fault for inviting her out.” I instinctively touched my own neck. No pain. No wound. Breathing smoothly. But I remembered that suffocating feeling, remembered his bloodshot eyes, remembered the sound of my mom falling onto the living room floor, remembered my dad’s back as he was hacked down trying to protect Leo, remembered my little brother Leo was only nine and didn’t even have time to cry out loud— I remembered. I remembered it all. “Sneaking out in the middle of the night all made up, dressed like a prostitute, and secretly taking a cab. Whoever lent her money, whoever invited her out, bear the consequences!” He sent another message. The group was dead silent. No one dared to speak. Last time, when I saw these two messages, I panicked and typed an explanation, saying Lily never came to see me, that I had been home studying all day and hadn’t even stepped out. He didn’t reply again. I thought the matter was over. Then, at midnight, he pried open my front door. I slowly put my phone down. It is now 5:23 PM. There are about seven hours until he pries the door open. Last time, I spent these seven hours in panic and feeling wronged. When my parents got home from work, I even complained to them about it, saying Lily’s dad was so mean. My mom even comforted me, saying it was normal for a parent to be anxious when their daughter was missing. Our family of four, none of us knew death was approaching. This time. I looked at that profile picture, that WeChat account saved as “Lily Evans’s Dad.” Mr. Evans. Do you know what the first thing I want to do after being reborn is? I don’t want to run. I don’t want to call the police—last time, during the final ten minutes when he was breaking in, I dialed 911. The line was busy. By the time it connected, he had already kicked the door open. I want you to know what it means to bear the consequences. 5:25 PM. I replied in the group. “Hello Mr. Evans, I just saw the messages. Lily didn’t come to see me today, and I didn’t invite her out. We haven’t really talked much at school lately. You could ask her other friends.” Pausing for two seconds, I typed another sentence: “But please don’t worry, she might have gone to another classmate’s house. I’ll help you ask around to see if anyone has seen her.” People started popping up in the group. “Lily ran away from home again? Oh my god, is she okay?” “Don’t worry Mr. Evans, we’ll help look for her.” “Chloe, were you home all afternoon? Didn’t go out?” That last message was from my desk mate, Mia. I didn’t reply to her. Because I saw Lily’s dad’s reply. “You didn’t invite her? She said you invited her out! You’d better tell the truth, or else when I find out, don’t blame me for not holding back!” 2 Heh. Here it comes. Last time, I was also terrified by this sentence, explaining desperately, my tone getting softer and my posture getting lower. But did it help? No. What he was looking for was never the truth; it was a scapegoat. Who was Lily Evans? The “problem girl” of our class. Dyed hair, makeup, skipping classes, dating some delinquent from outside the school. How many times had her dad beaten her? I don’t know. I only know that once she came to school with a handprint on her face, claiming she fell. This wasn’t her first time running away from home. But this time was different. This time, she eloped with that delinquent. She didn’t dare tell her dad the truth, so she casually threw out a line: “I went to Chloe Miller’s house.” Just that one sentence. Her dad believed it. Or rather, he pretended to believe it. Because he needed a target. He needed someone to bear the anger of his failed parenting. He needed someone to let him vent his impotent rage of “my daughter’s trouble is all someone else’s fault.” And me—good grades, well-behaved, never causing trouble, casually framed by his daughter—I was perfect. Last time, he killed me. This time, I’m going to let him know what it feels like to kick an iron plate. 5:32 PM. I sent a screenshot to the group. It was my WeChat chat history with Lily Evans. Our last chat was two weeks ago. She asked me what the weekend homework was, I replied, and she didn’t say anything else. Scrolling further up, it was borrowing notes, asking about exam times, borrowing a charger. Not a single personal chat, not a single invitation to hang out. “Mr. Evans, this is my chat history with Lily, please take a look. We really aren’t close.” People in the group started speaking up for me. “It’s true, Lily and Chloe aren’t in the same circle.” “Yeah, Chloe studies all day, she wouldn’t hang out with Lily.” “Sir, did you perhaps misunderstand?” Lily’s dad didn’t reply. But I knew he saw it. Because five minutes later, he sent a third message: “Chat histories can be deleted. Who knows if you deleted them beforehand? My daughter personally said she’s at your house, would she lie?” I smiled. Yes, she would lie. And you know better than anyone that she would lie. But you refuse to admit it. 5:40 PM. I sent a message to Lily. “Lily, where are you? Your dad is looking for you in the group, saying you’re at my house. Don’t scare me, what happened?” After sending it, I put my phone aside and started scrolling through my contacts. I remembered last time, Lily and that delinquent eloped to a neighboring city, stayed in a motel for a week, and only came back after they ran out of money. When she came back, my whole family had already been cremated. This time, I need to make her come back sooner. Not to save her. But to make her say with her own mouth: I didn’t go to Chloe Miller’s house. 6:00 PM exactly. My mom got home from work. “Chloe, what’s going on in the group chat? Why is Lily’s dad posting all that?” she asked while taking off her shoes. “You didn’t get into any trouble, did you?” “No,” I said. “Mom, don’t get nervous when I tell you this, but we need to stay somewhere else tonight.” My mom froze for a moment. “Why?” I looked at her. Not even forty, she already had white hair at her temples. Last time, she fell on the living room floor, still clutching the new pencil case she had just bought for me. “Because Lily’s dad might come looking for trouble,” I said. “He’s not a reasonable person.” My mom laughed: “It wouldn’t go that far, right? Just for this? He’s anxious because his daughter is missing, don’t take it to heart. Once they find her, it’ll be fine.” “Mom.” I looked at her, emphasizing every word. “Do you trust me?” “Of course I trust you.” “Then listen to me tonight. We’re going to stay at Grandma’s house for the night.” My mom hesitated, then nodded. “Alright, let’s talk about it when your dad gets back.” 3 6:30 PM. My dad came back with Leo. As soon as he walked in, Leo complained he was hungry. My mom went into the kitchen to cook. My dad sat on the sofa looking at his phone. After a while, he frowned. “Chloe, what’s the deal with Lily’s dad? Why is he talking so aggressively?” “That’s just the kind of person he is,” I said. “Dad, let’s go stay at Grandma’s house tonight.” “Why?” I explained the whole situation. After my dad listened, he stayed silent for a while, then said, “Alright, we’ll leave after dinner.” I was a bit surprised. My dad had always been the “better to avoid trouble” type. I thought he was going to tell me not to overthink it. “Dad, you don’t think I’m making a mountain out of a molehill?” “No.” My dad put his phone down and looked at me. “I saw what he said in the group. That kind of person doesn’t seem like he’ll just let things go.” He paused, then added, “We don’t cause trouble, but we aren’t afraid of it either. We’ll hide out for a night, and once he finds his daughter, it’ll blow over.” I didn’t say anything. Because I knew he wouldn’t find her. At least, not tonight. 7:20 PM. Our family of four finished dinner, packed our things, and prepared to leave. Just then, a loud banging sounded on the door. Not knocking. Banging. Like someone smashing it with their fists. “Chloe Miller! Come out! I know my daughter is in your house!” It was Lily’s dad’s voice. My mom jumped, instinctively taking a step back. My dad’s expression changed, and he pushed my mom and Leo back. “Don’t open the door,” he said in a low voice. The banging got louder. “Open the door! I’m calling the police! This is false imprisonment!” Leo was so scared he buried his face in my chest. Holding him, I felt my heart beating so fast it was about to jump out of my throat. Last time, he didn’t come this early. Last time, he came at midnight, with a knife. This time, he came just past seven. He didn’t bring a knife. At least, not right now. But he still came. “Dad,” I whispered. “Call the police.” My dad nodded and picked up his phone. The smashing outside continued. “Chloe Miller! Don’t think you’re safe hiding in there! If anything happens to my daughter, I’ll make your whole family pay with your lives!” A neighbor opened their door. “What are you doing? It’s late, what’s all the noise about?” “None of your damn business! Someone hid my daughter, I’m looking for my daughter!” My dad dialed 911. “Hello, someone is causing trouble at my door…” Before he could finish, a kick landed on the door. The doorframe shuddered. My mom screamed. Leo started crying. I held him tight, staring at that door. Last time, when this door was kicked open, I stood in the middle of the living room, trembling all over, unable to even speak. This time, I was waiting for the police. Bang! Another kick. The doorframe cracked. Bang! A third kick. The door opened. Not kicked open. Opened by my dad. He pulled the door open. A man stood outside. In his forties, short and stout, his face flushed red, his eyes glaring like he wanted to eat someone. Exactly the same as those eyes I saw right before I died last time. “Mr. Evans.” My dad stood in the doorway, blocking the path. “Why are you kicking my door?” “Your daughter hid my daughter!” He tried to push his way in. “Let me go in and search!” “Search for what?” My dad didn’t budge. “My daughter said your daughter hasn’t been here. Call the police, let them search.” “Call the police? Why would I call the police? My daughter is right here in your house!” He charged forward, but my dad blocked him. The two of them started shoving each other. “Get out of the way!” “Calm down!” The hallway was crowded with nosy neighbors. Some were taking videos, some were on the phone, some were shouting “Stop fighting, stop fighting!” 4 Amidst the chaos, I saw someone push their way through. It was our homeroom teacher, Ms. Lee. “What are you doing?!” She pulled Lily’s dad away. “Mr. Evans! What are you doing!” Lily’s dad was yanked away, still struggling: “I’m looking for my daughter! My daughter is in her house!” “Who said that?” “My daughter said it herself! She said she’s at Chloe Miller’s house!” Ms. Lee looked at me. I stood in the doorway, holding Leo, tears welling up in my eyes. “Ms. Lee,” my voice trembled. “Lily never came to my house. I don’t know her well. Her dad cursed at me in the group chat, I posted all our chat history, but he didn’t believe me, and now he’s here kicking our door.” “You’re lying!” “Enough!” Ms. Lee roared. “Mr. Evans, your daughter ran away from home, I understand you’re anxious. But what right do you have to come make a scene at someone else’s house? Kicking their door? Do you know this is illegal!” “What law did I break? I’m looking for my daughter…” “Looking for your daughter gives you the right to kick doors? To frame people?” Ms. Lee pulled out her phone. “Wait here, I’m calling Lily.” Lily’s dad sneered: “I already called. Her phone is off.” Ms. Lee ignored him and dialed the number. The call connected. “Hello, Lily? Where are you?” Everyone fell silent. Lily’s dad was stunned. Ms. Lee put it on speakerphone. From the other end came Lily’s voice, carrying a hint of impatience: “Ms. Lee, what is it?” “Where are you?” “I… I’m at a classmate’s house.” “Which classmate?” Silence. “Tell me.” “…Chloe Miller’s house.” My brain buzzed. She was still lying. In front of all these people, she was still lying. Lily’s dad instantly blew up: “Hear that?! Hear that?! My daughter said she’s at her house!” He pushed Ms. Lee aside and charged towards me. My dad grabbed him tightly. “Calm down! Even if she says she’s at Chloe’s house, have her send her location!” “Send what location! I believe my daughter!” “You believe your daughter? Then come and search!” I spoke up. Everyone looked at me. I put Leo down, let my mom hold him, and then walked to the doorway. “You come in and search.” I looked at Lily’s dad. “What if you don’t find her?” He froze for a second. “If you don’t find her, you replace our front door with a new one. You apologize to me. You clarify in the group chat that your daughter lied, and that I am innocent.” “Why should I—” “Why should you?” I cut him off. “Because you kicked my door. Because you slandered me in the group. Because you brought all these people here to make a spectacle of me.” I stared into his eyes. “Do you dare?” The hallway was dead silent. The neighbors were all watching. Someone was recording. Lily’s dad’s face turned beet red. “Get out of the way, I’ll search!” “First say what happens if you don’t find her.” “I…” Ms. Lee spoke up: “Mr. Evans, if you have nothing to hide, agree to her terms. If you don’t find her, replace the door and apologize. If you do find her, we’ll help you call the police and have them arrested.” Lily’s dad gritted his teeth, forcing a sentence through the gaps: “Fine.” I stepped aside. He charged into my house, searching every room like a mad dog. Kitchen, bathroom, balcony, closets, under the beds. Nothing. Absolutely nothing.

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When Sebastian was exchanging wedding rings with me, he still had a sex toy in his pocket meant for him and his younger stepmother. And I, to get back at him, slept with his childhood best friend on our wedding night. I intentionally left marks. But when Sebastian saw the hickeys on my neck, he just casually dialed his friend’s number: “Sebastian, bro, your wife is really something else!” “I’m already addicted.” Sebastian sounded completely indifferent: “You like her? Then how about sleeping with her again tonight?” Like a madwoman, I smashed his phone to pieces. For the next five years, we became the most infamous purely hate-driven couple in our social circle. Until he drove the Smith family to bankruptcy, sent my father to prison, and caused my brother’s death in a car crash. My mother, who had always loved me dearly, went mad overnight, hating me to the core: “It’s all your fault! If you hadn’t picked a fight with Sebastian, how could the Smith family end up like this!” “Why don’t you just die!” That night, Sebastian pinned me beneath him, fiercely kissing the corner of my mouth: “Chloe, whatever tricks you have left, bring them on.” My heart finally turned to ash. The bottle of sleeping pills under my pillow pressed painfully against me. No more fighting. This time, I decided to listen to my mother. …I’m going to die. 01 Tears fell onto the pillow, but Sebastian didn’t notice at all. He roughly unbuttoned my pajama top: “Chloe, you’ve fought with me for five years, it’s about time you learned to be obedient.” Obedient… My gaze flickered. If it were before, I would have pushed him away like a maniac, slapped him twice, and told him I would never let him have peace in this lifetime. But now, I was exactly as he said, Docile. Lying on the bed like a dead fish, letting him do whatever he wanted. Seeing that I didn’t react for a long time, Sebastian uncharacteristically stopped his movements. He frowned, a flash of surprise in his eyes. “Since when did you become so boring?” “Weren’t you quite vocal when you were in Ethan’s bed back then?” He grabbed my face, forcing me to look at him, but his hand met a large patch of wetness. Sebastian’s fingers paused: “What are you crying for?” The smell of Mia’s perfume on him made me nauseous. I fixed my gaze on him, From his disheveled clothes to his bobbing Adam’s apple, to the corners of his mouth that had just pressed against mine, and finally, his eyes. Our eyes met, touching for a brief second before separating. I opened my mouth: “If you want to vent your lust, hurry up.” “I want to sleep.” Sebastian’s hand on my face suddenly tightened, and the teasing look in his eyes darkened instantly. “What did you say?” He was angry… But my throat felt tight. What was he angry about? Wasn’t I being docile, exactly as he wanted? Sebastian stared at me deeply for a long time. In the passing seconds of my silence, the pressure of his hand lessened. Finally, he sneered: “Chloe, you really have endless tricks up your sleeve. You’ve even learned how to play hard to get.” He stood up and began adjusting his clothes. The shape of a square box bulged from his pants pocket. Sebastian’s fingers paused slightly, then he threw it in front of me, looking down from a commanding height: “For the sake of you being my wife in name, after bankrupting your family, I should at least compensate you with something.” “Chloe, as long as you behave, the position of Mrs. Vance is still yours.” The moment the gift box was tossed down, its sharp corner hit my shoulder. It hurt a little. But I still didn’t move, didn’t even glance at it. Sebastian stared at me for a while, then scoffed coldly: “The state of the Smith family today is your own doing, so you just have to take it. Stop wearing that dead face.” “As for the gift, take it or leave it.” He picked up his suit jacket, turned, and left. Only a long time later did I pull that bottle of sleeping pills from under my pillow, staring at it blankly. When should I take them? Tomorrow night… Tomorrow is my mother’s birthday. I’ll go see her one last time. 02 The next day, carrying a cake, I went to the psychiatric hospital. Seeing my mother, I tried my best to force a smile. “Mom, I came to see you.” My mother’s back, lying on the bed, stiffened, but she ignored me. Fighting back the sourness in my heart, I opened the cake box: “Mom, I came to celebrate your birthday today. The cake is strawberry flavored, your favorite from before.” “Get up and eat a little.” I spent four hours making it, even one bite is fine, Mom; This is the last time, Mom… But before I could finish, I felt a heavy weight on the back of my head. The next second, my entire face was shoved into the cake. “Get out!” My mother desperately pushed me outward. “Go die! Go be buried with Leo!” The cream was smeared all over my face, sticky and greasy, making it difficult to even breathe. I opened my mouth, wanting to say something. “Mom…” I stumbled, pushed by her against the doorframe. My mother screamed hysterically: “So what if Sebastian is having an affair with Mia? Why couldn’t you just pretend you didn’t know anything? Chloe, why did you have to throw a temper tantrum at him?” “How could I give birth to such an ungrateful thing like you!” “Chloe, go die! Hurry up and die!” Tears finally fell uncontrollably, my hands trembling slightly. In the past, she loved me the most. She used to say… no matter what I wanted to do, the Smith family would always be my rock. But now, she hated me to the point of madness, hated me enough to tell me to die. Have I really been completely wrong all these years… I lowered my head, looking away, and after a long time, finally spoke: “Okay.” I’ll listen to you, I’ll go die. Perhaps the aura of death in my eyes was too heavy, because she actually fell silent for a moment. The next second, with a bang, she locked me out. I stood frozen outside the door for a long time before I found the strength in my body again. Then, step by step, I shuffled to the restroom to wash the cream off my face. As the cold water hit my face, I slowly gathered my thoughts. I stared at my face in the mirror, speechless for a long time. Perhaps choosing to marry Sebastian back then was a mistake. Now, it was time for this mistake to end. Let it end tonight. By the time I left the psychiatric hospital, it had started to rain. I didn’t bring an umbrella and was too tired to call a cab. Walking alone in a daze for who knows how long, soaked to the bone and shivering slightly, a figure suddenly appeared in front of me. The rain instantly stopped. I looked up and saw Sebastian holding an umbrella, staring at me with an unfathomable expression. Through the window, I could also see Mia and a few of his close friends, including Ethan. 03 Sebastian pulled me into their private room at the bar. “What’s this? The eldest daughter of the Smith family is bankrupt and can’t even afford an umbrella?” Ethan looked at me with a half-smile. “How about you sleep with me again, and I’ll give you one?” Roars of laughter erupted around the room. Someone elbowed Ethan and teased: “Enough already. Just how wild was Chloe back then that you’re still obsessing over her after five years?” “Sebastian, bro, since you don’t care anyway, why don’t you let Chloe keep us company? It’s not like we won’t pay.” The explicit, grating comments came one after another. Sebastian sat in the booth, silent. After a long while, the corner of his mouth twitched: “Do whatever you want.” As soon as he said this, boos filled the room. The smile on Mia’s face grew even more smug and arrogant, though she feigned a glare at them: “Stop it, you guys. What’s so great about bullying a little girl?” She leaned close to Sebastian. “Speaking of which, you’re practically my daughter-in-law. You’ve been married to Sebastian for five years, and I haven’t even given you a meeting gift.” Hearing this, Sebastian’s face changed instantly. There was even a hint of jealousy in his eyes as he looked at Mia. In the past, being in this situation, I definitely would have thrown a massive tantrum like a lunatic. But now, I had long lost the fiery passion of love and hate. I just wanted all of this to end quickly. I turned to leave, but was grabbed by the wrist by Mia, who had stood up. “Since we met today, let me give you the Vance family’s heirloom jade bracelet.” Saying that, she slipped the jade bracelet off her wrist and pulled my hand, intending to put it on me. The next second, the jade bracelet crashed to the floor! Mia stumbled a few steps, missed a step, and fell into Sebastian’s arms, tears coming right on cue: “Chloe, I’m your mother-in-law in name at least. Even if you don’t like me, you shouldn’t have pushed me, and you even broke the Vance family’s heirloom…” Her voice choked up: “Sebastian, I sprained my ankle.” This trick again. Over the past five years, I don’t know how many times Mia had framed me like this. Her acting was clumsy, her excuses flimsy. But Sebastian believed every single one. Unsurprisingly, this time was no different. Sebastian grabbed my wrist with a terrible expression, “Chloe, have my methods not been enough, that even now you show no remorse?” “Apologize to Mia.” I lowered my eyes, my gaze falling on the hand grabbing me. “Okay.” I looked up and asked him: “How do you want me to apologize?” “Kneel? Kowtow? Or serve those guys…” I used to have sky-high pride, but now I felt that these humiliations were nothing compared to death. I continued speaking, looking at the buddies in Sebastian’s booth. “If I’m supposed to serve them, please make it quick. I want to go home before dark.” “Chloe!” Sebastian violently flung my hand away. The atmosphere instantly fell dead silent. A long time later, someone finally spoke: “Damn, she really is something else.” The voice wasn’t loud, but it was crystal clear in the quiet room. “Enough.” Sebastian shot the person a dark look, “Watch your mouth.” He stared at me for a long time, until Mia tugged at his sleeve, her voice carrying a hint of crying: “Sebastian, my ankle hurts so much.” Only then did Sebastian snap back to reality. He picked her up and walked out. “I’ll take you to the hospital first.” Before leaving, for the first time, he turned back to look at me after turning around, his eyes clouded. Not long after, a message arrived on my phone. Sebastian: [Wait for me at home tonight. About today… I’ll listen to your explanation.] I twitched the corner of my mouth. Sebastian, you want me to explain, but tonight… I’m destined not to wait for you. 04 Once Sebastian left, the others sensibly cleared out. Only I remained in the room. I stared at that message for a moment, then silently deleted it along with Sebastian’s contact information. Then I went home alone to organize my belongings. One by one… When I dug to the very bottom of a box, my hand suddenly paused. It was a thick stack of old, un-sent love letters. Written to Sebastian when I was young. Although Sebastian and I had an arranged marriage, no one knew that I had secretly liked him for many years. Even during a long period of our messy married life, I hadn’t let him go. But now, looking at the bold, unrestrained line in the love letter: [Sebastian, just wait until I make you mine], it felt like a lifetime ago. Just pieces of scrap paper. With a wooden face, I was about to throw them all into the trash can, but they were suddenly snatched away by a strong force. Ethan looked at the stack of love letters, his eyes full of meaning. I couldn’t be bothered to ask when he had entered the house. I just expressionlessly held out my hand: “Give them back.” His gaze swept over the love letters, a sneer on his lips: “Want them?” “Chloe, so the reason you’ve been raising hell with Sebastian all these years was harboring such filthy thoughts. But don’t worry… in Sebastian’s heart, you’re probably worse than a dog.” Those words sounded familiar. I suddenly remembered the year we first got married, during a fight, his icy glare: “Chloe, all this fuss you make, isn’t it just to get me to look at you more?” “But do you deserve it? In my heart, you’re nothing but a dog wagging its tail for scraps…” I was silent for a moment, and when I spoke again, my voice was as calm as a pool of dead water. “What exactly do you want?” Ethan reeked of alcohol, his smile vile. “Chloe… sleep with me one more time.” As he spoke, he turned on his phone’s video recording: “Facing this, let’s do it again.” Ethan forcefully pinned me down on the bed, speaking frivolously: “Actually, all these years I’ve always regretted it. You screamed so enthusiastically back then, why didn’t I record it?” I lay numbly, offering no resistance, but my hand gripped the bottle of sleeping pills under my pillow tightly. … Returning to the villa, Sebastian frowned as he looked at the chat box where I hadn’t replied. There wasn’t even the usual curse. [Chloe, I’m home.] [I told you the position of Mrs. Vance is still yours. Don’t throw another princess tantrum next time.] But the only response he got was a red exclamation mark indicating he had been deleted. “Chloe!” The next second, the bloodstains at the door pierced his eyes unexpectedly. Sebastian’s pupils shrank violently, and he kicked the door open— 05 All he saw was glaring red. “Chloe!” The me in front of him violently vomited a mouthful of blood, while Ethan desperately shook my shoulders. “Chloe, are you fucking crazy?” “Spit it out!” But I vomited another mouthful of blood, Straight onto the bottle of Amitriptyline nearby. Seeing this scene, Sebastian felt a rush of hot blood surge straight to his head. “What are you doing?!” He violently yanked Ethan away, his mind going blank for a moment as he looked at me, half-dead. “Ethan!” “What did you do to her?!” His voice could no longer suppress his fury. And in my stomach, there was an agonizing, earth-shattering pain. For the first time, I learned that taking sleeping pills didn’t just mean going to sleep and dying. Palpitations, chest tightness, suffocation, pain… a myriad of agonizing sensations enveloped my entire body. I suddenly felt a twinge of regret. …If I had known, I would have chosen another way to die. Although Ethan’s drunkenness had completely dissipated, he was also somewhat bewildered, not understanding how things had turned out this way. Just now, as he pinned me down, the phone beside us pointing at me. “Chloe, weren’t you quite fierce before? Why are you as boring as a dead fish now?” My gaze finally moved, and I spoke when he was about to take off my clothes. “There are condoms in the closet. Go get them. I don’t want to get pregnant.” Ethan froze for a moment, unable to hold back a scoff. “Chloe, at a time like this, what are you still pretending for?” He stared at my face, and seeing no reaction, he replied irritably: “Fine.” “Truth is, you don’t deserve it anyway.” He let go of me and stood up. The restraint on my body released, and in that instant, I unhesitatingly poured all the sleeping pills into my mouth. Then, I fell to the floor, vomiting a lot of blood. “She took them herself…” Before he could finish, Sebastian punched Ethan in the face. “Get out!” Pain shot through him, and Ethan’s body staggered. When he spoke again, his voice was hoarse: “Sebastian, the most pressing matter now is to get Chloe to the hospital.” Sebastian seemed to finally react. He fumbled with his phone a few times, then picked me up and rushed outside. I was already drifting in and out of consciousness, and being jostled by him made my head even groggier. I threw up another mouthful of blood, right onto his suit. “Chloe…” Sebastian’s pupils contracted slightly, calling my name in a low voice. “Chloe, don’t sleep.” He called out to me over and over again. So noisy. I only felt my eyelids getting heavier. Sebastian’s voice took on a gritted-teeth quality: “Chloe, if you dare to die, I’ll make sure your father spends the rest of his life in prison, never getting out.” “And your mother…” That was the last sentence I heard. My heart seized. I moved my mouth, wanting to say something, but was powerless to utter a single word. Finally, my hand dropped uncontrollably. The world was finally peaceful.

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When I learned that my husband had been assigned to work in a remote location for another 7 years, I traveled a long way to find him. Arriving at his workplace, I was stopped by an older security guard. Upon hearing that I was looking for Arthur, his face drastically changed: “Why are you looking for my son-in-law?” I was struck by a bolt from the blue, thinking maybe it was just someone with the same name. But a worker chatting nearby laughed: “Uncle, what are you panicking for? Everyone for miles around knows Arthur is totally henpecked.” “Even if someone tried any funny business, your son-in-law wouldn’t dare.” He gestured towards me with his chin: “She might be someone sent from above for work.” Feigning calmness, I opened a photo of Arthur on my phone: “I have business to discuss with him. Is the Arthur you’re talking about this man?” The security guard let his guard down: “Yes, that’s my son-in-law.” The blood in my veins froze. Before long, a well-dressed woman approached me with a bright smile: “Are you looking for my man to talk about work?” “Let’s go wait at the house. Our son has a fever, so he took him to the hospital in town.” … I felt like I had been struck by lightning, staring at the woman in front of me, unable to breathe. Seeing me stunned, the woman warmly greeted me: “I’m Arthur’s wife, Chloe. Just call me Chloe.” She was very friendly, a smile constantly beaming on her face as she waved for me to follow her: “It’s all rough men around here, every one of them a pervert. It’s not safe for a woman to be here.” “Come wait at my house. It’ll be a while before he gets back.” As she spoke, she familiarly linked her arm through mine. As if possessed, I followed her footsteps. I stealthily examined this woman from the corner of my eye. Her skin was poor, her makeup skills lacking, with foundation settling into the creases under her eyes. Yet, it was still evident that she was more than 10 years younger than the 37-year-old Arthur. “Oh my, you city folks are really different. Your skin is so good, just like a peeled egg.” She stared at my face openly. Her eyes filled with envious light: “My man’s skin is just like yours, so soft.” She smiled amiably and enthusiastically: “It seems the city environment really nurtures people.” I forced a strained smile. She was right; both Arthur and I had that kind of smooth, delicate skin. Even though I was quite a bit older than her, thanks to good maintenance, I still looked like a girl in her early twenties. Not at all like a middle-aged woman who had been married for 12 years. But what did that matter? Even if I was pretty, had a good job, took care of the elders above and the child below… My husband still committed the ultimate betrayal behind my back, having another family. She was very talkative, chattering on endlessly. A couple riding a motorcycle approached and stopped as they passed us. The woman on the back of the motorcycle handed Chloe a bag of chestnuts: “Look how much your man thinks of you. Took the kid to the doctor and said you like chestnuts, so he asked me to bring a bag back for you.” Chloe smiled, accustomed to it: “He just worries too much.” I deliberately said: “Your husband treats you so well.” The woman on the motorcycle chimed in: “Her man treats her exceptionally well. If she tells Arthur to go east, he doesn’t dare go west.” “Arthur, who fears nothing in heaven or earth, is terrified when Chloe glares or sheds a tear!” Chloe’s smile remained habitual: “Sister-in-law, stop teasing me.” A sour, bitter feeling churned in my heart. It felt like God had played a massive joke on me. My highly educated husband, who sought equality in everything in our marriage, was actually acting as someone else’s henpecked husband out here. We arrived at Chloe’s house. Although located in a rural area, it didn’t look like a rural house at all. Instead, it was a very chic little country villa. “My man built this. Nice, right? It’s the only one of its kind in our village, and he’s also the first live-in son-in-law here.” My heart skipped a beat, shocked by the words “live-in son-in-law.” Entering the living room, I saw a family portrait hanging on the wall. A family of 6, everyone smiling happily. In the picture were a 5-year-old boy and a girl around 3. We have a family portrait like this in our living room too. Except, we only have one 10-year-old son, no daughter. The year he was dispatched by his unit, he held my face and swore: “Wife, believe me. At most 2 years, and I’ll find a way to get transferred back.” “When I return, if your health permits, we’ll have a second child, and our family will never be apart again.” But he was gone for 7 years. Except for a few days at home after the New Year, he was barely seen all year round. When he went back last year, I even expressed my regret to him about not having a daughter. Uncharacteristically, he said: “The general environment is bad right now; clear-headed young people aren’t having kids anymore.” “We have one son, that’s good enough. Why suffer through having a second child?” It turned out his thinking hadn’t changed; he just already had both a son and a daughter out here. “We have Wi-Fi at home, you can connect your phone to save data.” “The password is November 13th, my man specifically set it to my birthday.” She said this while smilingly bringing me tea. My heart Jolted again. Arthur had told me there was no internet in this mountainous area. So it was always him finding ways to contact me; I could never reach him. I opened my phone and connected to Chloe’s Wi-Fi; full signal. Lies were being dismantled before my eyes one after another, each one feeling like a knife stabbing my heart. Feigning composure, I said: “You two have such a good relationship. I heard he was dispatched here; aren’t you worried he’ll be transferred back?” Chloe kept a smile on her face: “Not worried. To be honest, my man almost got transferred back this time.” My heart tightened, fixated on her next words. “My man pulled a lot of strings to stay.” “He’ll probably stay for another 7 years. Once all the projects here are finished, my man said he’d rather resign than go back.” My heart felt like it had plummeted to the bottom of a cliff. So it wasn’t the company forcing him to be dispatched again; he applied for it himself! Even though he knew his mother was hospitalized with a stroke and his father had broken his leg, needing their son by their side to fulfill his filial duties. Even though his son’s eyes grew red time and time again, feeling wronged because he rarely saw his father all year. Even though he knew I, his wife, was exhausted managing everything inside and out, overwhelmed by work and family, nearly hospitalized from fatigue several times. He still comfortably lived a carefree life with another woman thousands of miles away. A cold chill made my shoulders tremble slightly. Thinking I was cold, Chloe immediately turned on the AC: “It won’t be cold in a minute. This AC my man bought me is a top brand.” Although she was smiling, she constantly brought up Arthur’s love for her, showing off their affection. “In this village, no one has AC, only my house does. Actually, AC costs a lot of electricity, I didn’t want to install it, but my man insisted, saying he was afraid I’d freeze in the winter.” With a strained smile still hanging on my face, I asked indirectly: “I feel like he’s quite a bit older than you. Is this his second marriage?” “He’s 10 years older than me, not a second marriage. I just got incredibly lucky.” The smile on Chloe’s face grew even happier: “God is good to me, letting someone like me, who only finished elementary school, find a man with a master’s degree.” “He came here as the project manager for development, practically the boss’s right-hand man. I could never have dreamed of being the wife of such a capable man.” “My man also says meeting me is the luckiest thing that ever happened to him.” She chattered on: “Actually, having an age gap is quite nice; he knows how to care for someone. My man is not only responsible at work but also responsible to the family.” “He gives me every penny of his monthly salary, and I only give him 200 bucks for cigarette money.” Bitterness churned within me. All these years, Arthur had been sending back $3,000 of his salary every month. He said room and board were covered here, and $100 was enough for pocket money. Their company’s accountant is my college roommate; I knew his monthly after-tax salary was $3,100. I probed: “With his high salary, the whole family must live well.” “Exactly, that’s why I say I struck gold. Not only is he good to me, but he’s even better to my parents.” “My mom has a bad back.” She pointed to the expensive massage chair next to the sofa: “This massage chair cost over $2,000; he bought it without blinking an eye.” “My dad likes to drink, so he buys cases of top-shelf liquor that cost hundreds of dollars a bottle.” “He also gives me $5,000 every month to spend however I want.” Hearing this, I was certain Arthur was embezzling and taking bribes. The bitterness in my heart was like gall, and I also felt sorrow for his parents. Three months ago, my mother-in-law was critically ill from a stroke. Crying outside the emergency room, I called him: “Arthur, come back. Mom is in resuscitation; she keeps murmuring that she wants to see you.” But he lied to me: “You’ve worked hard, wife. The construction project here has entered a critical phase; I really can’t get away.” “Mom is a good person and will be blessed; nothing will happen to her.” Many times when I was panicked, helpless, my legs so weak I could barely stand. His phone was either unreachable, or he couldn’t come back. He ignored his own family, his parents, and his child. Yet he played the role of a good husband, a good father, and a good son-in-law in another family. It was the ultimate irony, a fatal blow. Chloe’s phone rang. She didn’t avoid me. The speaker volume was just loud enough for me, sitting next to her, to hear clearly. He called her: “Wife.” His voice was gentle, in the exact same tone he usually used when calling me. “Son’s fever hasn’t broken yet; the doctor says we need to stay overnight in the hospital for observation.” “I don’t have enough money on me. Wife, transfer some money to me, $30 will do.” I sneered internally; what a family-oriented good man he was. Chloe smiled and said, “Got it, I’ll transfer it to you in a bit.” On the other end, Arthur worriedly instructed her: “Hubby can’t hold you to sleep tonight. Be good and go to sleep, cover yourself well so you don’t catch a cold.” “Not being by your side for one day makes my whole body uncomfortable.” These words were like sharp swords stabbing fiercely into my heart. Married for 12 years, we only had this kind of intimate sweetness in the first few years. Now, he hadn’t even been this attentive to our own son. Time made us an old married couple. And now it has made us the most familiar strangers drifting apart. The call ended. Chloe looked at me with a smile, just about to say something, then spoke as if remembering something: “By the way, I forgot to ask your name?” “Madeline.” “What a beautiful name, city folks really know how to name people.” She was still her talkative, enthusiastic self. Up until now, I was still thinking. She was most likely an innocent woman kept in the dark, just like me. “By the way, my man won’t be back today. Why don’t you stay here for the night, and when he gets back tomorrow, you can talk about work.” I agreed. During dinner, Chloe made a table full of good dishes with meat and vegetables. I met their daughter, whose eyes and brows looked very much like Arthur. Chloe’s parents weren’t as enthusiastic towards me, just superficially polite. They even looked at me with a bit of vigilance, a bit strangely. At the dinner table, the person they mentioned the most was Arthur. In their mouths, Arthur wasn’t a son-in-law, but a biological son. Chloe was an only daughter; in this remote area that heavily favored boys over girls, the old couple had never been able to hold their heads high their whole lives. It was Arthur’s appearance, becoming their live-in son-in-law and honoring them like biological parents, That allowed them to finally straighten their spines that had been bent for a lifetime. Chloe’s mother said: “Arthur is the pillar of our family; our family cannot do without him.” It felt as if an irremovable thorn was stuck in my throat. He didn’t support the roof of his own house, but propped up someone else’s year after year. When it was time to sleep, Chloe arranged for me to stay in the guest room next to her parents’ room. After the lights went out, I couldn’t fall asleep for a long time. I heard Chloe’s parents whispering in the next room for a long while. After much deliberation, I sent a whistle-blowing letter and video to the headquarters of Arthur’s company. And sent a message to my brother, who is a police officer: “I need you to work hard and come arrest Arthur; he broke the law.” These two decisions didn’t relieve my anger, but they were an accounting to my life. And the punishment he deserved. The next morning. Chloe brought her clothes for me to wear, afraid I’d dislike them, she specifically added: “My man just bought this for me; it’s been washed once but never worn.” “It’s quite cold here, you’re wearing a bit too little and might catch a cold.” I looked at the down jacket she brought over, a pure white, slim-fit long coat, a big brand that cost $590. I had looked at it all winter but couldn’t bear to buy it, adding it to my cart and removing it several times. Not that I couldn’t afford it, but with elders above and a child below, money had to be spent with planning. I had also complained to Arthur in the past: “Other husbands buy clothes for their wives. I’ve been with you for so many years, and I’ve never seen you buy me any.” He always smiled and said gently: “The money is all with you; buy whatever you want.” “I’m afraid you won’t like what I buy, and I don’t know how to pick women’s clothes either.” It turned out it wasn’t that he didn’t know how to pick; he just didn’t want to pick them for me. “Thank you.” I took the coat and put it on. It looked good and was warm. She paused, a flash of surprise in her eyes, unexpected that I didn’t politely decline. While eating breakfast, I listened to her chattering on, showing off their affection again. She also asked me what life was like in the city. She even asked me: “How are you doing?” I smiled faintly and said truthfully: “Not bad, just that my man doesn’t know how to dote on his wife as well as your man.” She grinned happily. Finally, noon arrived. The door was opened from the outside, and Arthur’s familiar voice came: “Wife, I’m back.” Chloe and I both stood up from the sofa and looked at him. “Which wife are you calling? Hubby.” I asked him with a cold face.

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Ethan Vance had amnesia. He forgot everything about me. His memory was stuck in the year he loved his ex-wife the most. No matter how hard everyone around us tried to convince him otherwise, he remained convinced that I was the “other woman” who had broken them up. The doctors said there was a chance his memory could return, so I clung to that hope, refusing to let go. For three years, we caught in a vicious cycle of divorcing and remarrying. We became a notorious joke within our entire elite social circle. People actually placed bets on us. They bet on when I would finally give up, and they bet on when Ethan would finally remember. That was until the news of our eighth divorce hit the trending topics. Chapter 1 Reporters carrying heavy cameras stormed into my law firm. They thrust microphones into my face, their words laced with provocation. “Ms. Sterling, as a divorce attorney yourself, how does it feel to have been divorced eight times?” My professional reputation was shattered instantly. I watched as framed certificates of achievement from my wall were thrown down and trampled underfoot. Before I could formulate a response, the senior partner fired me on the spot, citing “damage to the firm’s reputation.” “Ava, take a piece of advice,” he said, looking at me with disdain. “Have some self-respect. Stop harassing Mr. Vance.” I gripped my trembling hands together. Suddenly, I just felt profoundly tired. They were right. This time, I really needed to let go. … It was pouring rain when I left the firm. I held the cardboard box containing the belongings from my desk, driving home in a daze. The front door wasn’t fully closed. I could hear giggles drifting out from inside—Ethan and his ex-wife, Mia. I surveyed the room. It was a total mess. Clothes scattered everywhere, dirty tracks on the carpet… The television news in the living room was still playing a loop of the drama at my firm earlier today. Seeing me return, the smile on Ethan’s face faded significantly. “You actually have the nerve to come back here.” The sarcastic words reached my ears with crystal clarity. Mia giggled and kissed the corner of Ethan’s mouth. “Alright, Ethan. After all, you two were together for seven years. Leave her some dignity.” Then she raised her head, arched an eyebrow at me, her smile heavy with implication. “Ethan missed me terribly, so I came over. You don’t mind, do you?” Rainwater dripped from my hair, pooling on the floor. A wave of exhaustion washed over me. I didn’t look at the intimate scene on the sofa again. I turned and walked towards the master bedroom. But when I pushed the door open, I froze mid-step, paralyzed. “Oh, I forgot to tell you.” Ethan was leaning against the wall, watching me with a smirk. “I decided to redecorate. I threw all your stuff out.” “They should still be in the dumpster by the curb.” He seemed truly happy whenever he saw me miserable. A sharp pain shot through my chest. My soaked shirt made my body feel incredibly cold. “You bought the top trending spot for the news today, didn’t you?” “We’re already divorced. Why did you have to make me lose my job, too?” Faced with my interrogation, Ethan stepped forward and slapped the box out of my hands. Files and documents scattered across the floor. That represented nearly seven years of my hard work and life. “Wasn’t it enough that you harassed me for three years? Even if I really had something with you in the past, I have amnesia now.” “I forgot you. That means you are worthless to me!” These words undoubtedly stabbed right into my old wounds once again. Three years ago, a sudden bout of amnesia made him forget everything about me. Just the day before the accident, he had held me, excitedly decorating the nursery, fantasizing about whether we would have a boy or a girl. But later, he forgot. He only remembered Mia. “You just forgot! You have no idea what Mia did back then…” Unwillingness and rage nearly drove me mad. Ethan’s face turned ashen. He grabbed my arm violently. He shoved me out the front door. The heavy rain soaked me instantly once more. “I don’t care what Mia did. I only remember that I love her. That’s enough.” I opened my mouth, but all the interrogation and unwillingness suddenly seemed meaningless. Ethan irritably avoided my gaze. He reached down and aggressively pulled the wedding band off his finger. The edge of the diamond ring cut his hand. He threw the ring at my feet. As he slammed the door shut with force, he left me with one final line. “Don’t be so pathetic, begging me to remarry you again.” I stood there for a very long time. Finally, I crouched down and picked up that wedding ring. Ethan had designed this himself before we got married. He had worn it for seven years, never taking it off once. By the dumpster on the street, I found our wedding photos smashed to pieces, a scarf he had personally hand-knitted for me. And all the photo albums detailing our memories together. My phone suddenly rang. I looked at the caller ID and answered. Ethan’s mother’s excited voice came through the line. “Ava! I just got Ethan’s check-up report. The doctor said there are signs of his memory shifting!” “If he continues the treatment, there’s an eighty percent chance he can be cured!” My knuckles turned white as I gripped the phone tighter. The word “okay” that was on the tip of my tongue never came out. Finally, I whispered softly. “Mom, let’s not treat it. If he forgot, let him forget.” Chapter 2 The next day, I went to the old Vance family estate. I laid those eight divorce certificates out in front of Ethan’s mother. “Mom, Ethan and I are divorced again.” Eleanor Vance looked at me with pity in her eyes and sighed deeply. “Ethan has wronged you. You two were so happy once.” “But this time is really different. I’ve contacted several doctors, and they all say the probability of a cure is high.” She pushed a business card toward me, her eyes filled with anticipation. “I’m getting old. I just want you two to live a good life together.” “He’s actually been remembering quite a bit about the past lately…” Before she could finish her persuasion, I interrupted her. “But he has never remembered anything about me.” I lowered my head, avoiding Eleanor’s pitying gaze. The atmosphere grew silent, until she suddenly spoke. “If you leave, and Ethan remembers you but can’t find you, he will go crazy.” For the past three years, every time we divorced, Eleanor would say this. And because of this sentence, I had softened my heart time and time again. Remarried him time and time again. Before I could respond, there was noise from the entryway. Ethan walked in. The moment he saw me, his brows knit tightly together. “Ava Sterling, did you come here to complain to my mother again?” “I already kicked you out, yet you’re still this haunting. Can you really not survive without me!” Eleanor was so angry her chest heaved violently. She stood up abruptly. She raised her hand, and a resounding slap landed heavily on Ethan’s face. “Haven’t you had enough? How much more do you want to push Ava?” “Without her, you would have lost your life long ago.” Sitting on the sofa, I clenched my hands into fists. I couldn’t help but think back to seven years ago. His marriage to Mia had been miserable. Mia enjoyed the entirety of his love, yet she already had another man on the side. His wife was cheating; overnight, he became the laughingstock among the young elite. When he went to confront them. Mia had also embezzled ten million dollars and vanished without a trace. After that, Ethan fell into depression. Just as he was preparing to jump into the river to commit suicide. I was the one who saved him. “So what? She just wants money, doesn’t she?” Ethan still looked at Eleanor stubbornly. “I don’t care what Mia did in the past. I just love her. It’s impossible for me to love anyone else.” “And I won’t regret it.” In an instant, Eleanor looked as if all the strength had been drained from her. She turned back and looked at me apologetically. Ethan rubbed his temples, finally raising his head in a gesture of compromise. “Ava, if you want to remarry, fine. We’ll just end up divorced again anyway. The person losing face will be you, not me.” “Since you can’t bear to leave me, let’s go to City Hall right now.” “This is your eighth divorce already, isn’t it?” The corners of my mouth twitched. I couldn’t reconcile the person in front of me with the Ethan Vance in my memory. “I came here today to make things clear with Mom.” “You are free, Ethan.” Ethan froze. The hand hanging by his side trembled unconsciously. He looked at me in surprise, then quickly returned to normal. “Playing hard to get, are we? Too bad that doesn’t work on me.” “Fine, you said it. Just don’t come begging me again later.” Ethan spoke almost through gritted teeth. Ignoring Eleanor’s attempts to stop him, he threw the things in his hand onto the ground. He turned and stormed out. Eleanor was so angry her vision blurred. She turned toward Ethan’s retreating back and shouted. “You will definitely regret this!” Chapter 3 Whether Ethan would regret it or not, I didn’t care anymore. After completely giving up on his treatment, my tightly wound nerves relaxed significantly. Upon leaving the Vance estate, I was preparing to ask Ethan to return my passport and ID. All my important documents had been with him for the past few years. Just as I reached the street corner. A burst of intense pain erupted from my forehead. Hot blood gushed from the wound. My head spun, and before I understood what was happening. I was violently pulled and dragged by a group of people, who began kicking and beating me. “It’s her! She’s the other woman!” “Mr. Vance and Mia are the real couple, she just insists on being the homewrecker.” “Bah, a disgrace to the legal profession. Specializing in other people’s divorces when she can’t even sort out her own domestic mess.” The commotion instantly attracted the attention of passersby. Instead of acting heroically, they held up their phones, filming me continuously. Because of excessive blood loss, I had no strength to fight back. The surrounding crowd, seeing that I lacked even an ounce of strength to resist, eventually left with disappointment. They spat on me before leaving. “We’ll beat you every time we see you from now on!” As my vision blurred, I saw Ethan in the distance. He and Mia were holding hands, smiling sweetly. They looked truly happy. When our eyes met, Ethan’s expression stiffened. Instinctively, he started running toward me. “You… what happened to you?” The blood wouldn’t stop flowing, dying my clothes red. Ethan’s mind went blank. He seemed panicked, his hand trembling as he pulled out his phone to call 911. But Mia stopped him. “Don’t bother. Maybe she directed and acted this scenario herself, just to maliciously get your sympathy?” “It just looks scary, it’s fine.” “Didn’t you say you were taking me to pick out a birthday gift?” Mia dragged him away. Ethan hesitated for a moment, then turned off his phone. He didn’t look back at me. I leaned against the wall, gasping for breath, the blood still not stopping. In the end, I dialed 911 myself. But before the ambulance could arrive, I completely lost consciousness. When I woke up again, it was already a week later. The doctor said that if I had been just a little later, I might have lost my life due to excessive blood loss. Eleanor Vance, knowing about this, came to the hospital specifically to see me. She covered all the medical expenses. “Ava, this was all due to the excessive behavior of those people. Mom has already handled it for you.” “Ethan, he…” “He just forgot that you have a blood clotting disorder.” Eleanor tried to persuade me again, but looking at my pale face. The words died on her lips. I smiled faintly. “Mrs. Vance, I’m divorced from him. I won’t be staying in the city, either.” “I’m never coming back.” Hearing the change in address, Eleanor’s eyes suddenly turned red. Ultimately, she just nodded. “Ava, whatever you want to do, Mom will help you.”

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To have a better life with my CEO boyfriend, I was still at the company working overtime on New Year’s Eve. Looking out the window at the city lights, thinking that one of those glowing windows would soon be ours, I lowered my head to keep working. Just then, my phone pushed a trending post. It was a hot thread on how to manage employees, and one comment underneath was particularly jarring. [My husband’s methods are truly masterful. He specifically targets capable female employees for secret office romances, using emotional manipulation (PUA) to make them work their fingers to the bone for the company.] [That woman dreams of becoming the boss’s wife, but in reality, she hasn’t taken a vacation in three years. She’s even working overtime at the office on New Year’s Eve. Right after getting laid, she’s kicked out of bed to make PowerPoint presentations.] [Working like a horse and acting like a prostitute, in short: a workhorse prostitute.] Below, some people spoke up for the female employee, calling the original poster and her husband vicious. But she nonchalantly posted a picture in response. In the photo, a man wearing an apron was cooking in the kitchen, his back profile handsome and clear. The caption was a naked provocation: [What’s the point of scolding me? She’s still pulling an all-nighter at the office right now, unlike me, who only has to wait in our big mansion for the New Year’s Eve dinner my husband is cooking~] My breath hitched, and my hand gripping the phone tightened abruptly. I could never mistake that back. The profile in the photo was undeniably my secret boyfriend of five years, the CEO. … I flipped the phone face down on the desk and took a few deep breaths. Turning it back over, my fingertips trembled slightly as I zoomed in on the photo bit by bit. The navy blue apron the man was wearing was the New Year’s gift I had bought him with three months’ worth of saved bonuses. His sharp, short haircut was the exact style I had casually mentioned liking last month, which he had gone to the barber to get the very next day. Even the small red mole behind his right ear was identical to Arthur’s. Someone in the comments asked, [This man is dating two people at once. Has the female employee never suspected anything?] She replied triumphantly, [Every time I call, my husband tells her I’m his mom. A few times, he even coaxed that stupid woman into calling me ‘Mom’ a few times. She doesn’t even think about it—my husband’s mother isn’t someone she can just casually meet.] The cold light from the screen made my eyes sting. A few days ago, after Arthur answered a call, he suddenly smiled and said to me, “Chloe, my mom wants to say a few words to you.” I froze for a moment, hurriedly took the phone, and softly called out ‘Auntie’ a few times. There was no response from the other end. Arthur stood beside me, smiling and teasing, “My mom wants a daughter-in-law. She’s waiting for you to change how you address her.” Although I felt it was abrupt, I couldn’t resist his persistent coaxing and finally whispered ‘Mom’. As soon as I said it, an uncontrollable burst of laughter erupted from the other end. The person said ‘Good’ three times and hastily hung up. I felt something was off at the time, but Arthur coaxed me with a few words, making me forget to look into it further. Only now did I realize that the person on the other end of the line that day was his legally wedded wife. My fingertips trembled uncontrollably as I clicked into that woman’s profile. Her latest update was from two weeks ago: [New Year’s gift from hubby. It’s just too expensive, costs over seven figures~] But on that very same day, Arthur had told me, “The company isn’t doing well this year. As the future boss’s wife, you shouldn’t ask for a year-end bonus. As for overtime pay, the company will make it up to you once things improve.” My hands shook even more violently as I continued scrolling down. [Vacationing in the Maldives with hubby. Days without work are just too good!] But during that same period, I was pulling three all-nighters in a row to secure a major contract, ultimately drinking myself to a bleeding stomach at a business dinner. Even after the contract was signed, I pushed all the credit onto Arthur, who hadn’t lifted a finger, just to establish his authority in the company. The next post down: [Moving into our new home! Hubby specially bought this big river-view mansion for me and the baby.] In the photo, the living room was spacious and bright, with a dazzling river view outside the floor-to-ceiling windows. While I hadn’t even been assigned a company dorm. In this city where land is worth its weight in gold, I was renting a remote, run-down single room, commuting at least two hours every day. It was laughable how much I trusted Arthur in the past. I easily believed his nonsense about the “company doing poorly and on the verge of bankruptcy.” I didn’t spend his money, didn’t ask for a raise, and worked my life away just so he could have it a little easier. Five years of sacrifice, and in the end, I was just making a wedding dress for him and another woman’s happy life. Tears fell without warning. I hurriedly raised my hand to wipe them away but accidentally knocked over the cold takeout box on the table. Leftover food and rice spilled all over the floor, a complete mess. I finally couldn’t hold it back anymore, crouching on the floor and crying loudly. Arthur was in his river-view mansion with his wife and child, eating a New Year’s Eve dinner made of seafood and abalone. Perhaps after eating, they would cuddle by the window watching the fireworks bloom, or nestle on the sofa watching the lively Spring Festival Gala. While I was working overtime in a pitch-black office building. Not only was there no overtime pay, but even my meal was a ten-dollar cheap takeout. I don’t know how long I cried before my phone rang. After connecting, Arthur’s voice came through the receiver, “Chloe, Happy New Year!” “I’m still out of town securing investments. I’ll handle the outside, you handle the inside. Next year, we’ll work together to make the company bigger and stronger!” 2 I sniffled hard, pushing down the bitter lump rising in my throat. “What are you doing right now?” Arthur’s voice carried its usual weariness and dependence, “Just finished a business dinner. My stomach hurts from drinking too much.” “If only you were here.” If it were in the past, hearing this would have made my heart ache terribly, and I would have immediately said, “I’m here for you.” Then he would logically push a pile of even trickier tasks onto me. This time, I didn’t reply. The phone was quiet for a few seconds before he took the initiative to speak, “By the way, Chloe, you might not be able to leave tomorrow either.” “Mr. Wang from Goldstar Group is bringing his wife and kids to the city for a vacation on the third day of the Lunar New Year. We need you to host them the whole time.” The train ticket I had booked to go home before the holidays had been changed and refunded, refunded and changed. I couldn’t remember how many times my trip home had been postponed. I only remembered my grandmother asking cautiously over the phone multiple times, “Sweetie, can you come back this year? Grandma made your favorite cured meat.” My voice trembling uncontrollably, I asked him, “Why is it me again? I work year-round with no days off. I haven’t been home in a long time.” “And Grandma is sick. You know I need to go back and see her.” Arthur’s tone instantly cooled a few degrees, reverting to his old rhetoric, “The company belongs to both of us. I’m out of town working my ass off securing investments, so of course you have to help me guard the home front.” “Whether this partnership succeeds or not entirely depends on this hosting. I only trust you to do it.” Seeing I didn’t respond, he softened his tone and coaxed me, “Be a good girl. Once we secure this partnership, I’ll go back with you.” “Isn’t your grandmother most hoping to see you settle down? Once we’re stable, I’ll take you back in style, okay?” Before I could say another word, the call was disconnected. This wasn’t the first time he had made such a promise. In the third year of our secret relationship, after he learned I only had my grandmother to depend on, “Accompanying you home to see Grandma” became a permanent, unfulfilled promise he dangled in front of me. The summer before last, when he asked me to deliver a contract to the west side of the city in the pouring rain while I had a high fever, he said, “Deliver it, and we can sign the contract. Once it’s signed, I’ll go back with you to meet Grandma.” During the Spring Festival of our fourth year, when he asked me to give up my annual leave, he said, “Work overtime this New Year’s Eve. Once this busy period is over, I promise to go back with you.” Even now, he was still saying, “Wait until we work hard enough to buy a house in the city and stabilize. Then we’ll go back to see Grandma, and bring her here to live with us.” But in reality, he already had a house. A big river-view mansion, brightly lit. And the woman of the house inside was not me. My phone suddenly vibrated, and a message from Arthur popped up on the screen. [Don’t be unhappy during the New Year. Take this money and eat something good. I’ll make it up to you when I get back.] [The company’s accounts are tight this year, so you’ve been wronged. I’ll definitely compensate you more next year.] Then a red envelope popped up. I didn’t open it, but I knew the maximum amount couldn’t be more than two hundred. At the same time, that woman updated her status: [Hubby deposited the entire net profit of his company for the year into my account, not a penny less~] The accompanying photo was a screenshot of her bank account balance. Behind the first digit, there was a neat row of eight zeros. A netizen who, like me, had dug into the woman’s profile from the “managing employees” post asked, [If your husband made this much this year, how much did he give that female employee to make her work so hard?] She replied mockingly, [Two hundred is enough. I was the one who couldn’t stand it and told him to send it to that overtime workhorse prostitute outside, hehe.] 3 I turned off my phone screen, wiped away the tear tracks on my face, and decided to head home first. The streets on New Year’s Eve were deserted. The subway had stopped running long ago, and the buses were also out of service for the holiday. I stood on the roadside for almost half an hour, my hands and feet numb from the cold, before finally hailing a taxi. The driver rolled down the window and held up three fingers. “Holiday rate, add three hundred.” The cold wind blew down my neck. I gritted my teeth and got in anyway. The warmth of the car’s heater brought me back to life a little. I instinctively reached for my phone, wanting to send Arthur a message to complain, just like I had done countless times before. But my fingers stopped in mid-air. There had been situations like this before. Being overcharged for a taxi, having someone rudely cut in line, getting the wrong flavor for my takeout order. I would always go to him and complain, feeling wronged. He always brushed it off lightly with one sentence, “If you can make do, just make do. Be forgiving when you can.” At that time, I always thought it was because he had a generous nature and didn’t like to hold grudges. Until I saw that woman’s profile. She complained about how hard it was to hail a cab, and Arthur turned around and bought her a car with a dedicated driver. She casually mentioned that a popular restaurant had too long of a line, and Arthur directly gave five hundred dollars to everyone in line ahead of her, so she could be the first to go in. As for takeout… She never had to eat takeout. Arthur felt outside food was unhealthy, so he specifically learned to cook for her, making three meals a day with his own hands. All the grievances that he told me to “make do” with were “major issues” that had to be resolved immediately for the person he truly loved. The line between love and not loving was so clear-cut. I turned my head to look out the window, watching the city lights blur past. Every household radiated the warmth of reunion. Only I was adrift and destitute. Tears could no longer be held back, falling silently. Eventually, I cried louder and louder, my whole body trembling. The driver glanced at me several times in the rearview mirror. When he finally stopped at the entrance of my apartment complex, he sighed. “Forget it, miss, it’s New Year’s Eve… I won’t charge you the extra three hundred. Hurry home.” Pity that even a stranger could give. But the man I had loved with all my heart for five years, who I considered my entire future. Watched helplessly as I worked myself to the bone like a fool for his and another woman’s happiness, draining my youth. After washing up haphazardly at home, I was so exhausted I fell asleep as soon as I hit the sofa. As dawn approached, a frantic ringing of the phone jerked me out of a nightmare. I answered groggily, but the moment I heard the voice on the other end, I was instantly wide awake. It was Aunt Zhang, my grandmother’s neighbor, her voice trembling with urgency, “Sweetie, you need to come back quickly!” “Your grandmother got up early to use the bathroom. The ice in the yard hadn’t fully melted, and she slipped and fell! We just took her to the county hospital!” My brain buzzed, and my hands and feet instantly went ice-cold. With no time to think, I threw on a coat, grabbed a few pieces of luggage, and rushed to the high-speed rail station. The station was crowded. I squeezed my way to the ticket gate but couldn’t swipe through the turnstile. After trying several times, the machine only repeated its cold automated message. I panicked and turned to the service desk, “Hello, could you please check my ticket?” The staff member took my ID, typed on the keyboard, and looked up at me, “Sorry, ma’am, we couldn’t find any booking information under your name.” I froze, then anxiously leaned forward, “How is that possible?” “Please look again carefully! I just changed my ticket a few days ago! It’s the earliest train today!” The staff member checked again and shook her head, “There really isn’t anything.” My throat tightened, and I asked with a crying tone, “Can I still buy a ticket now? Any train is fine!” “Sorry, all trains are sold out.” The people lining up behind me began to urge me impatiently. I shuffled my feet numbly, pushed around by the crowd. Suddenly, a thought popped into my head. My hands trembling, I pulled out my phone and dialed Arthur’s number, “Arthur… my high-speed rail ticket, did you cancel it?” 4 On the other end of the line, Arthur seemed to be still half-asleep, mumbling an “um,” “I knew you wouldn’t give up on going home,” “So I canceled the ticket for you. Staying in the city to handle the hosting is the important thing.” I was so anxious my voice cracked, and tears immediately welled up, “Arthur, do you know my grandmother fell! She’s in the hospital! I have to go back immediately!” The other side was silent for two seconds, followed by a short sneer, “Chloe, since when did you learn to use such lies to trick me?” “Making up an excuse like your grandmother being sick just to go home?” “I’m not lying! It was Aunt Zhang…” “Enough.” He interrupted me impatiently, “Stop making a fuss and hurry up and prepare for the hosting. I was socializing until midnight last night and haven’t even woken up properly.” But before the phone was hung up, I clearly heard a woman’s lazy, soft moan. Tears smashed onto the screen, blurring it. I paced frantically in the high-speed rail station lobby, my hands trembling as I opened every ride-hailing app. Going back to my hometown county was nearly three hundred kilometers. I kept adding tips, from two hundred to five hundred, then to eight hundred… The system constantly displayed “No drivers available.” In desperation, I called Arthur’s number again, wanting to beg him to drive me back. But the phone rang twice before being brutally hung up. Immediately after, a message popped up, the tone icy, [I have to go socialize soon, don’t bother me. Pay attention to the hosting yourself.] Yet, the latest update on that woman’s profile showed… Arthur accompanied her to watch a Lunar New Year movie and checked in at an internet-famous restaurant that requires reservations half a year in advance. He was meticulous in everything he did for her. But completely ignored me. I bit my lip, suppressing the sourness in my eyes. I first transferred a sum of money to Aunt Zhang, urging her to take good care of my grandmother for now. After agonizing until the afternoon, Aunt Zhang made a video call. On the screen, my grandmother lay in a hospital bed, her face a bit pale, but her spirits were okay. She tried hard to smile at me, her wrinkles bunching together, “Sweetie, Grandma’s fine. The doctor said I can go home in a couple of days.” “You focus on your work, don’t rush back specially.” Looking at her forced smile, my throat felt sour, and I could only nod vigorously, unable to say a single word. Hanging up the video, I opened the ticketing app again and unexpectedly managed to book a ticket home for the fifth day of the Lunar New Year. My fingers paused, and a plan slowly emerged in my mind. On the third day of the New Year, I tucked away all my emotions. Following Arthur’s instructions, I meticulously hosted Mr. Wang from Goldstar Group and his wife. I kept a smiling face the entire time, was detail-oriented and thoughtful, and didn’t make a single mistake. Arthur was very satisfied with my performance. He proactively sent a message saying he had reimbursed my train ticket home. [See, it’s not that I didn’t want you to go back, otherwise I wouldn’t have specifically reimbursed you.] [Keeping you in the city for a few more days was all for our company, so we can live a good life in the future.] I didn’t reply a single word, just clicked to receive the money. On the fifth day of the New Year, clutching my ticket, I boarded the high-speed train back to my hometown on time. Returning to the county hospital, I stayed by my grandmother’s side every step of the way, taking careful care of her. During those days, Arthur intermittently sent a few messages. On the surface, he was asking about my grandmother’s health, but in reality, he was urging me to return to the company sooner. I ignored them all. He didn’t seem anxious either. After all, in the past, no matter how bad the argument was, I would always obediently return to his side. Unfortunately, this time, his calculations were wrong. It wasn’t until after the Lantern Festival that I returned to the company, after he had urged and pleaded multiple times. As soon as I entered the office, he knocked on the desk with a cold face, “Being late for so many days, your perfect attendance bonus for this month is gone. According to company regulations, your salary will also be docked.” I smiled indifferently. I pulled a piece of paper from my bag and slapped it onto the desk with a “smack.” “I’m resigning.” “Also, my overtime pay, performance bonuses, and year-end bonuses for the past few years, compensate me for all of them.” The paper crinkled slightly as he pinched it in his hand. He stared at the number at the bottom for a few seconds and laughed out loud, “Three point six four million? Chloe, there has to be a limit to your tantrums.” Seeing my serious expression, his face slowly darkened, “You really want to resign, huh? Suit yourself. Do you think the company will stop running without you?” “But don’t even think about getting a single penny of this money.” Before he finished speaking, the office door was pushed open, and his assistant ran in with a pale face, “Mr. Vance, it’s bad!” “The partners from last year all said they want to terminate their contracts, and Mr. Wang, who we contacted before the New Year, also said he won’t sign the contract!”

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After accepting his proposal, Arthur Sterling and I ran into his gold-digging first love while traveling abroad. Due to domestic abuse from her ex-husband, the woman’s memory had regressed six years—back to the year before she eloped with a rich man. Upon seeing Arthur, she smiled brightly, throwing herself into his arms and calling him “Artie.” Not only did he not push her away, but he also took her to the hospital, paid her medical bills, and settled her debts. From then on, every time I mentioned our wedding, the woman would suddenly have a “medical episode.” The first time, I was trying on wedding dresses. I watched his hurried retreating back, becoming a joke in the eyes of onlookers. The second time, the woman had a sudden somatic symptom attack and smashed our newly taken engagement photos. He said she didn’t do it on purpose. The third time, he missed our appointment to finalize the wedding venue decorations, leaving me forgotten on a mountaintop for a whole day and night, just to read her bedtime stories. I tolerated it again and again, until the woman called the police, claiming I stole her engagement ring. When the police questioned us, Arthur held her and avoided my trembling gaze. “That ring… does indeed belong to my… fiancée.” No wonder the ring was too small. It turned out that from the very beginning, neither this ring nor this man ever belonged to me. For three days and three nights, I counted on my fingers, enduring a full seventy-two hours. It wasn’t until a letter of forgiveness from Mia Lin arrived that my innocence was finally restored. Arthur’s last messages were from three days ago. 【She’s sick, she didn’t do it on purpose. There’s no need for you to hold a grudge against a sick person.】 【Apologize early, get out early, don’t be stubborn.】 【Once Mia gets better, I will make it up to you.】 The silent police officers filled my mind; I felt as if I was being choked. It felt like I was back in that dark, cold, cramped room at the detention center, a chill creeping up my spine. It had been a year. A full year. Mia’s illness remained the same, but Arthur’s heart was increasingly biased toward her. In the past, I could still talk myself into staying. Now, only one thought remained in my mind: I couldn’t convince myself anymore. I was tired. Returning home, I opened the door. In the entryway, all my shoes had vanished. In their place were various pairs of high heels, the styles Mia liked. I froze at the door. A woman’s voice came from inside, getting closer. “How did you get in?” Looking up, the guarded and surprised look in Mia’s eyes was incredibly genuine. This was the home I had lived in for four years, yet she pointed at me, warning me with the tone of the lady of the house. “Ms. Jones, I don’t know why you are so obsessed with Artie, but he is my fiancé. As a woman, don’t you have any self-respect?” “I shouldn’t have let you out so quickly just because we’re both women!” My gaze fell on the sparkling ring on Mia’s ring finger. During those three days in the detention center, I only had one sentence from beginning to end. “The ring is mine, not hers.” The police even thought I had delusions and contacted a doctor for a psychiatric evaluation. The facts proved that I did have delusions. Only the delusion wasn’t about the ring, but about Arthur’s heart. I took a deep breath, suppressing the sourness in my heart. “Where is Arthur Sterling? Tell him to come out.” As my voice fell, the man emerged from the bedroom. Mia, as if finding her protector, hid behind him, her voice trembling. “Artie, hurry and kick her out! Tell her to stop harassing you!” He stroked her hair, comforting her gently. “Don’t be afraid. I’ll kick her out right now.” But when he faced me, his tone was like frost. “Chloe Jones, you’d better leave right now, this instant, or I’ll call the police.” Since Arthur brought Mia back to the country, I had lost count of how many times I’d heard this sentence. Every time, his explanation was the same. “Just bear with it a little longer, Mia will be better soon.” I bore it again and again, and now I even had to give up my marital home. I curled my lips in a ridiculous smile and bumped into the cabinet behind me. The wedding photo of Arthur and me that used to be there had been replaced by a wedding photo of him and Mia. The dazzling smiles of the two of them starkly contrasted with me, making me look like a comical clown. I felt as if I had been pricked by a needle, all color draining from my face, and I stumbled out the door. The rain outside was falling even harder. Behind me, Arthur made no attempt to make me stay; his entire focus was on Mia. Worried she might catch a cold, he decisively closed the door. The loud slam of the door echoed continuously in my heart. I opened my phone and, unsurprisingly, received a message from Arthur. 【Just bear with it a little longer, it will pass soon.】 For the first time, I didn’t reply instantly. I dialed the number for the wedding planning company. The previous nine weddings were forced to be canceled due to Mia’s illness. The tenth time, I wasn’t waiting anymore. Arthur, I don’t want you or the wedding anymore. 2 I had nowhere to go, wandering around until I stopped in front of the rental apartment Arthur and I used to live in. Pushing the door open, a strong musty smell hit my face. Before Arthur’s startup succeeded, we had lived in this two-hundred-square-foot apartment for three years. During the hottest, most restless summers, he would prop up his head and fan me on the bamboo mat until his arm ached and trembled. During the coldest, most biting winters, he would frequently change the cold towels on my forehead when I had a fever, staying awake all night. Once, we had an argument. He rushed out of the house, pulled me into his arms. “Chloe, don’t go. If you leave, my heart goes with you.” The time he forcefully brought Mia back to the country, I screamed at him hysterically. “Didn’t you hate her for leaving you and running off with a rich guy?!” With his back to me, his tone was calm. “That’s all in the past.” To this day, I finally understood how selfish Arthur was. He got over that hurdle in his heart and reconciled with Mia. But he left me in that sweltering summer, questioning a floor full of shattered pieces. The rain fell heavily, thunder crashing. Curled up on the hard bed frame, I woke up with a start, instinctively reaching forward for warmth like I used to. “Arthur, I’m cold…” The cold wall made me completely awake, unable to fall back asleep. I opened Mia’s social media account; she had updated it again. It was a series of photos of Arthur making a late-night snack for her. I kept scrolling back, and when I reached the last photo of the “Love Fried Rice,” my heart stopped. When Arthur used to work as a cook, he made me a bowl of “Love Fried Rice” every night, flattering me. “This is the Love Fried Rice exclusively for Chloe.” The promises of the past echoed in my ears. But the person who made those promises was far away, by someone else’s side. I closed my eyes. The pattering rain outside the window seemed to fall right into my heart. The next day, while I was washing up in the bathroom, I heard Arthur’s voice from outside. My movements paused, a moment of expectation rising. Did he remember that today was our anniversary and specifically come looking for me? The next second, Mia’s voice shattered my illusion. “Artie, is this where we used to live?” Arthur was silent for a moment before replying softly. “Yes. So you have to get better quickly and remember all our memories together.” He effortlessly erased my existence, like wiping away an inconspicuous water stain. A ringing filled my ears. My heart was fiercely gripped, hurting so much I couldn’t breathe. Arthur approached and pushed open the bathroom door. Our eyes met. He lowered his voice, launching a preemptive strike. “Chloe, what is wrong with you? Tracking us all the way here!” “Mia’s condition just showed some improvement. Whatever resentment or hatred you have, can’t you wait until she’s better to act out?” He closed the door too fast. I had just reached my hand out, and my fingertips were forcefully crushed. The fingers are connected to the heart. The pain shot straight to my core, and I couldn’t help but let out a miserable scream. The sound drew Mia over. The door opened. Her face suddenly turned pale, as if she had suffered a massive grievance. “Ms. Jones, how long are you going to keep harassing Artie?” “Artie already said he has no interest in you, the only person he loves is me!” “Please, I’m begging you, stop harassing my fiancé, okay? Please let us go!” She became emotionally agitated and had an asthma attack. Arthur expertly pulled out an inhaler to calm her breathing. Finally, he picked her up, giving me a fierce glare before leaving. “Mia Lin, are you satisfied now?!” From beginning to end, he never noticed my swollen, purple fingers. While treating the wound, my tears fell like pearls from a broken string. I remembered a time when I was wronged at work. Arthur rushed over without a second word to back me up. Because he was in such a hurry, he got into a car accident taking a corner and broke a rib. I scolded him for risking his life, but he brushed it off. “If it’s about my Chloe, even if I really have to risk my life, I’m willing.” Who could have thought that the person who hated seeing me wronged the most back then would be the one giving me the greatest grievance now? In this moment, my heart was completely shattered. 3 The next day, I picked a time when Arthur wasn’t around to get my luggage. I found that he had thrown all my things into the storage room. The plushies he used to give me were gathering dust in the corner, and the photo album I gave him for his birthday was torn to shreds. Looking at the mess on the floor, I finally understood. What I had been desperately protecting for the past year was nothing more than what Arthur discarded without hesitation. Just as I finished packing my things, a familiar voice came from behind. “Next time you come to the house, you can let me know in advance.” I turned around, feeling it was incredibly ridiculous. Catching the sarcasm in my eyes, Arthur coughed lightly. “I was afraid Mia would overthink seeing these things, so I temporarily put them here…” I was too lazy to listen and calmly interrupted him. “Just throw it all away.” Arthur froze in place, seemingly thinking he had misheard. After a moment, he sighed helplessly. “Chloe, there’s no need to say things out of anger. I know I’ve neglected you a bit lately.” “Once Mia is better, we’ll get married.” It seemed the wedding planning company hadn’t notified him yet that the wedding was canceled. Right, the only person he cared about was Mia. “Arthur, let’s break up…” The last three words were drowned out by Mia’s customized ringtone. Arthur’s expression instantly softened. “Yeah, I found the earring. I’m coming to find you right now.” “Be good, wait for me there, don’t move around.” The call ended, and his tone instantly dropped ten degrees. “Mia will be home for the next few days. Don’t show up and trigger her again.” I watched the man’s retreating back, my eyes full of sarcasm. That night, I had just booked my flight ticket when the police broke down the door again and took me away, wearing only my pajamas. This time, they even put handcuffs on me. In the deep autumn night, I shivered as I was escorted away. Only after interrogation did I find out that Mia had called the police again. She claimed she lost a set of jewelry and, upon checking the security cameras, found that I had sneaked into the house. She generously gave me two choices. Either apologize publicly and admit to the theft. Or she would press charges, and based on the value, I would face at least three years in prison. I sat stiffly in the police station all night. The coldness I hadn’t felt during those three years in the rental apartment all rushed to my heart. Like ice-sealed needles attacking from all directions, piercing my heart. At eight in the morning, Arthur arrived. With red eyes, I stared dead at him. “I didn’t steal anything.” He pursed his lips tightly, his tone indifferent. “I know, but that’s not important.” “Chloe, be good. Just apologize and you can come out.” “You don’t want the wedding delayed for three years, do you?” He reached out, wanting to hold my hand. I instinctively recoiled like I was electrocuted. At the same time, tears fell, my heart turning to ash. “Arthur, what exactly am I in your eyes?” This time, he didn’t answer. Ultimately, following Mia’s demands, I publicly apologized online, admitting to shamelessly seducing Arthur and stealing her belongings. Once the apology letter was made public, it caused a massive uproar. Countless netizens cursed me for being shameless and a disgrace to women. Friends who knew me deleted me one after another, wishing they could stay as far away from me as possible. Some netizens even started “shipping” Arthur and Mia. Digging deeper, they discovered the two had been together since graduating high school. On one hand, they praised Arthur for his unwavering loyalty, not forgetting his first love even after becoming successful. On the other hand, they praised Mia for being a well-deserved virtuous wife, accompanying Arthur from obscurity to vast wealth. From beginning to end, only I looked like a clown who loved but couldn’t be loved. Two days later, I walked out of the police station. The sky outside was clear, but my heart felt like it was covered by a dark cloud. Mia stood outside, holding Arthur’s arm, using a magnanimous tone. “Ms. Jones, I hope you truly turn over a new leaf after this incident.” “Don’t steal other people’s things, and don’t covet someone who doesn’t belong to you.” I no longer had the grief and anger of the past; I nodded numbly. “Yes, thank you, Ms. Lin. I won’t harass your fiancé anymore.” As I spoke, a flash of panic crossed Arthur’s face. He quickly suppressed it and drove away with Mia. He probably thought I was still throwing a tantrum, speaking out of anger. But this time, I was serious. Tonight at 8 PM, I will completely leave his world. 4 Before leaving, I went to a temple. Three years ago, I was pregnant with a child. At that time, Arthur’s career was on the rise, and I accompanied him to various social engagements. I only found out I was pregnant after I lost the baby. Back then, Arthur’s eyes were red, and he slapped himself hard across the face. “Chloe, I’m the one who failed you and the baby.” After I was discharged from the hospital, the two of us lit an eternal lamp for the child at this temple, and it had been lit for four years. Before leaving, I just wanted to take one last look at this child. As soon as I stepped into the main hall, I froze in place. Not far away, Mia was holding onto Arthur, standing in front of the child’s eternal lamp, acting coquettishly. “Artie, I heard the eternal lamps here are really hard to get. If you extinguish this person’s lamp and light mine, won’t she cause trouble for you?” “Just a little trouble. As long as you can live a long and healthy life.” Arthur was actually going to give the child’s eternal lamp to Mia! Anger flared up violently. Before Arthur could extinguish the lamp, I rushed over and blocked it. “No one is touching this lamp today!” The two of them were caught off guard by my shout. Mia reacted, biting her lip, looking incredibly wronged. “Ms. Jones, enough is enough!” “You wanted to steal the ring Artie gave me, you wanted to steal the jewelry he gave me, and now you even want to steal the eternal lamp Artie is giving me!” “Have you no shame?!” Her voice was neither light nor heavy, just enough to attract the attention of other visitors in the temple. My face was livid, my jaw clenched tight. “Mia Lin, I will say this one last time: I have never stolen anything of yours!” But she acted even more wronged, hiding behind Arthur and tugging at his sleeve. “Artie, quickly drive her away! I don’t want to see her anymore!” Arthur squeezed her hand and pointed towards the hall doors. “Chloe Jones, leave immediately. I don’t want to say it a second time.” I couldn’t hold back my roar any longer. “Why should I leave? You two are the ones who should leave!!” “Arthur Sterling, do you have any conscience left? Have you forgotten whose lamp this is? Aren’t you afraid the child will…” A slap unexpectedly exploded on my face, cutting off all my words. The metallic taste of blood quickly spread in my mouth. I stood frozen in place, my eardrums continuously torn by Arthur’s disappointed words. “Chloe Jones, can you calm down!” “Look at yourself right now, what’s the difference between you and a lunatic!” I stared up blankly, looking at myself through Arthur’s eyes. Pale face, red and swollen cheek. Indeed ugly, indeed manic. Indeed, as the man said, I was crazy. Driven completely crazy by him! The pent-up anger of a whole year completely erupted, and I lunged towards Arthur. But Mia resolutely blocked him. It was just a tiny scratch, but Arthur reacted as if he’d gone mad, kicking me away. I crashed into the eternal lamp behind me. With a bang, the lamp fell to the ground and extinguished. Scalding wax splattered onto my calf, just like the blood the child left on me the day of the miscarriage. Winding, solidifying, turning into eternal pain, deeply carved into my heart. Arthur picked up the unconscious Mia, his voice turning cold. “Making such a scene, are you completely satisfied now?” “Chloe Jones, killing the child once wasn’t enough, you had to kill him a second time!” “What right does someone like you have to be a mother!” He left without looking back. I stood rooted to the spot, looking at the solidified wax on the ground. Laughing and laughing, tears welled up. Finally, I collected the wax into a box. As night fell, I went down the mountain and took a cab to the airport. Before boarding the plane, I received a message from Arthur. As always, high and mighty. 【Mia is awake, come over and apologize to her.】 If it were in the past, I definitely would have questioned him hysterically again. But now I had no strength left. I just calmly blocked all his contact information. Then I walked straight towards the boarding gate, never looking back.

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