1 My husband, Archer, has changed lately. He stopped wearing cologne, claiming the scent was too strong. His phone had become an extension of his hand; he’d frequently smile at it, lost in thought. I suspected he was seeing someone. After tucking our two kids into bed, a message popped up from his mistress. “The unloved one is the home-wrecker. I advise you to divorce Archer now.” Another message immediately followed. “I’m pregnant with his child! He’s head-over-heels in love with me right now.” I feigned ignorance, deleted the messages, and blocked her number. He was just cheating, not bankrupt. And frankly, his infidelity was a good thing. … Then, his mistress showed up at our doorstep, her several-months-pregnant belly thrust forward in a brazen display. “If you don’t divorce him, I’m staying here. You’ll even have to care for me after the baby’s born.” My expression remained flat, her provocations stirring no emotion within me. “No need,” I said calmly. “Archer will hire you a confinement nurse. He’s got money to spare.” I pulled out my phone, intending to activate the robot vacuum, but stopped. I didn’t want her to fake a fall and cause trouble. So, I just sat opposite her and called Archer. “Your girlfriend, with her baby bump, is here.” Archer rushed home from his office, a whirlwind of disheveled hair. His usual gentle demeanor was replaced by a strained look. He stood in the entryway, a mix of guilt and annoyance at his mistress’s impulsive visit etched on his face. The mistress stared at me, dumbfounded. She hadn’t expected me, the wronged wife, to be so calm. “Aren’t you angry?” she demanded. “Your husband cheated, and you’re calling him to deal with me?” I ignored her, turning instead to Archer. “Handle this. Don’t let her cause a scene; it could be bad for the company.” I paused, my gaze sharp. “By the sound of your call, you left something important unfinished at work? I’ll go clean up the mess for you.” As I walked past him, he grabbed my wrist. His mouth opened, then closed, as if searching for an excuse – a reason I might accept, one that could somehow justify his very pregnant mistress. I gently pushed his hand away. “No explanations needed.” I took his car keys from him. “Trust me, the company’s affairs are in good hands.” I gave him a pointed look. “Don’t forget to switch on the robot vacuum.” I closed the door, faintly hearing his mistress’s escalating protests. My footsteps quickened to the car, and the sounds from inside faded away. The company was Archer’s brainchild. I had started as his secretary. With my fair skin, pretty face, and solid business skills, I caught his eye. He pursued me relentlessly. Our engagement, then our marriage, made us the picture of a perfect couple in everyone’s eyes. He used to be so romantic. He’d fuss with his hair before going out and dress up specially for our shopping trips, saying he wanted to be worthy of me. My messages were answered instantly; if I ever ignored him, he’d bombard me with texts. He worked out daily, promising to keep his abs for me to touch. When I was busy with company affairs, he’d pull me aside, insisting I just sit and watch, saying even that was tiring enough. “He loved me,” I thought, “that’s what he said.” But then he stopped loving me. Company matters were unceremoniously dumped in my lap, and any mistake earned me a public dressing-down. Outings with me became a chore; he’d stare at his phone, dress carelessly, and make no effort. So, when he recently started primping again and doing push-ups at home, I knew. He had found someone else to love. “Ms. Thorne.” “Ms. Thorne.” In the conference room, the executives rose to greet me. I began to sort out Archer’s mess. As dusk settled, Archer entered his office, quietly shutting the door, his eyes discreetly observing me. “I picked up the kids,” he said. 2 I threw myself into work. Though it was his company, I benefited too. Every success meant more money for me, more security for my two children. Seeing my preoccupation, Archer pulled up a chair and sat beside me. “I’m sorry. I was wrong,” he began, his voice laced with regret. “I never thought she’d come directly to you. I warned her not to. But she insisted on confronting you, using her pregnancy to demand a divorce.” I paused, turning my head to face him. “So, do you want a divorce?” Without a second’s hesitation, Archer shook his head. “No, I don’t. I truly love you. What happened with her was just a moment of weakness.” I curved my lips into a faint smile. “Then you just handle it.” His expression was etched with anxiety. “You… you’re not angry?” Before I could answer, he quickly added, “I know you must be furious. I wronged you. What do you want? A house? A car? A house for your parents? Or company shares? Anything you want.” Watching his contrite face, I said, “Shares, then. Not for me, but for our two children. For their future.” Archer’s guilt deepened. He grasped my hand, weeping for a long time. I honestly didn’t understand. He was the one who cheated. Why was he crying? Archer owned 80% of the company shares. He built the company from the ground up, and only gave up a fraction of shares when it went public. He was brilliant, with an astute business sense. Whatever he touched turned to gold. That’s what I valued about him—even if he went bankrupt, he had the ability to rise again. He allocated 20% of the shares to me, and 10% to each of our children, promising, “There won’t be a second time. I know you worry about the children’s inheritance. I’ve already had the lawyer draft a will; our children will inherit the bulk of my assets. Her child… a smaller portion, okay?” Archer asked cautiously. I still didn’t grasp the extent of his guilt. He felt guilty, yet he still cheated. Wouldn’t it be simpler to be unburdened by guilt and just own it? After all, it was his money. He could give it to whomever he pleased. Would he really refuse to give his mistress’s child shares if I told him not to? I indulged his performance. “Fine, whatever you say.” My compliance seemed to ease his discomfort, his expression visibly less constrained. “Just don’t let it affect the company,” I added after a moment’s thought. That night, his mistress texted me, gloating: Don’t think Archer isn’t divorcing you because he loves you. It’s just bad for the company! He’ll divorce you eventually! Even if he doesn’t, my child will have an inheritance! I deleted the message without a second thought. Because her child wouldn’t inherit a thing. 3 If his mistress didn’t cause trouble, I generally didn’t meddle in his private life. We had been married for ten years, and our relationship had long since evolved into something akin to familial affection. Our eldest was in middle school, and the younger was about to graduate from elementary school. Juggling the kids’ schedules alone was exhausting. Add to that our social obligations, maintaining ties with his parents, and mediating between friends and business partners within our social circle—these demands consumed most of my energy. But then his mistress targeted my eldest son. I found out when he called me, saying some woman claimed to be his stepmother. I rushed over immediately. I could be indifferent to most things, but not when it came to my children. I arrived at the school gates to find his mistress standing next to my son, a smug smile on her face as she looked at me. I walked over, placing myself in front of my son. “What do you want?” She folded her arms, facing me. “Just introducing myself to your son as his future stepmother. Is there anything wrong with that? Archer is only postponing the divorce with you for now. He promised me he’ll divorce you eventually.” This involved my son, and potentially the company’s reputation. After all, this was an expensive private school. Only the wealthy and influential sent their children here. Several business deals had actually originated through my son’s classmates, through gradual introductions. Already, a few curious onlookers were starting to observe us. I snapped. “Get lost.” Seeing my anger, she surprisingly backed down, a smile playing on her lips. “Well, well, Ms. Thorne, I never thought you’d lose your temper. I thought you were made of paper, never showing any emotion.” Slightly provoked, I said coldly, “If you don’t leave now, I’ll have someone take you to the hospital for an abortion.” She gasped. “You wouldn’t dare! Archer wouldn’t let you get away with it.” I lifted my chin, lowering my voice in a menacing whisper. “If you don’t disappear, the media will suddenly swarm this area, and your story will be plastered everywhere. Guess which is more important to Archer: you, or his company’s reputation?” She panicked. She glared at me, unwilling to give up but afraid to make a move. She was after money. If Archer’s company ran into trouble, she’d lose out. And Archer would hate her. After she left, I turned to my son, my expression complex. My eldest son gestured for me to get into the car. Once inside, he said, “Be careful with our sister. I’m worried she might try to harm her.” I nodded. That evening, during dinner, after our daughter had finished eating and gone upstairs, he spoke up. “Dad, someone came to see me today and told me to call her my stepmother.” Archer immediately guessed who it was and said, looking uncomfortable, “She’s just crazy. Don’t worry about her. Nothing like that will happen again.” My son nodded calmly. “Hmm. I don’t want our sister to know.” Archer made a quick exit, leaving my son and me in a silent understanding. I guess I’m a gold-digger too.

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1 All of Saint Christopher knew about Damien Shepherd, the ruthless enforcer of the Shepherd crime family, and the untouchable “golden canary” he kept. She was a blind social worker, living in the squalor of the city’s poorest district, yet as pure as a white magnolia blooming in hell. This purity made Damien, who had risen from the brutal streets of the city’s underworld, dote on her like a precious gem. And I, his lawful wife, was nothing but a detested ornament. “Anastasia Vance, sign this. Those two mansions in the Highlands and the casinos in Port Royal are yours.” I refused to divorce him, so he resorted to his most vicious tactics. He threw me off the Port Royal docks, and one after another, my family’s cargo ships mysteriously sank. Finally, he kidnapped my parents, cementing them into pilings at the bottom of the Port Royal Bay. “Sign the papers, or watch them be cast alive into the foundations. Your choice.” I knelt, begging him, my forehead bleeding from hitting the ground, but the roar of the cement mixer swallowed my parents’ desperate faces. “No!” Then I opened my eyes again. I was back on the very day I first learned of Penelope’s existence. This time, I would grant his wish and leave for good. But when I truly died before him, Damien Shepherd lost his mind. … In my past life, I’d only ever heard a single voice message on Damien’s encrypted phone. It was a soft, timid female voice calling him “Damien, darling.” Reborn, I wanted to see for myself. What kind of woman could make a cold-blooded monster, forged in the depths of Saint Christopher’s crime underworld, learn tenderness? “Uncle Fitz, arrange for my parents to leave for England via a secret route within three days. I’ll join them as soon as I can.” After instructing my trusted old family retainer, I contacted Saint Christopher’s top lawyers to draft divorce papers. I needed to sever all ties with Damien and reclaim my offshore assets. I had less than a month. Then, I went to the Lower Quarter. This was the poorest, most chaotic part of Saint Christopher, rife with gambling dens, street gangs, and sex workers. At the end of a narrow, sewage-strewn alley, Penelope stood before a cramped, dilapidated community welfare center. Holding a white cane, she smiled, handing out free boxed meals to several homeless people. She wore a faded white dress, her eyes unfocused but clear and bright. “Slowly now, there’s enough for everyone. Today, we even have extra pulled pork.” Her voice was soft, starkly out of place in the murky, squalid district. No wonder Damien cherished her. “Blind hag! Watch where you’re going! You’re in my way!” Suddenly, a deranged thug overturned a table. The broken neck of a beer bottle lunged directly at her. I stood nearby, instinctively wanting to step aside. But Penelope, acting on pure instinct, shielded the children who were grabbing for food. “Chink!” The shattered glass deeply pierced her shoulder, crimson blossoming rapidly on her white dress. But she didn’t cry. Instead, she fumbled to reassure the terrified children clinging to her. “Don’t be scared, Penelope isn’t hurt. Someone will protect us.” I froze. That blinding red brought back memories of my parents, ground into the cement mixer in my past life. Back then, I cried until my eyes were nearly blind, and Damien only offered me a cruel, retreating back. In the welfare center’s makeshift first-aid room, I watched her pale, serene face, and finally, I couldn’t stop myself from stepping forward. “You’re a social worker? This place isn’t for you. These people don’t deserve your help.” I spoke coldly. She recognized that my voice wasn’t from the neighborhood and smiled, shaking her head. “Madam, Mr. Shepherd says that as long as I have a kind heart, the heavens will watch over me. These people are just sick, not bad.” Mr. Shepherd. Damien Shepherd. The man who, in the Port Royal Bay area, had carved up dozens without a flicker of emotion, was teaching someone about benevolence? “Beep, beep” Her custom wristwatch chimed. I’d commissioned that watch from a Swiss master years ago for Damien; it had the most advanced real-time vital sign monitoring. He’d found it too bothersome and thrown it into the trash without even opening the box. Now, it graced her slender wrist. She pressed to answer, and Damien’s voice, usually cold enough to make one shiver, now held an undeniable tension. “Your location shows an abnormal heart rate and dropping blood pressure. What happened?” Penelope’s face flushed, her tone flustered. “Damien, I’m fine. Just a little scratch. Everyone at the welfare center is very kind. It was just my own clumsiness…” “Wait for me.” The call ended. A mere five minutes later, the roar of an engine echoed from the street. Damien’s Rolls-Royce had traveled from Midtown to the Lower Quarter in just five minutes. He was always resourceful, and his radar seemed to pinpoint only her. And me, his lawfully wedded wife of five years? Last month, I was kidnapped by his rivals, nearly assaulted in an abandoned warehouse. I hid in a water tank, calling him for help, but he only sent a subordinate with a message: “A Shepherd wife who can’t even protect herself deserves to die. Damien Shepherd has no use for weaklings.” That was the difference. “I have something else to attend to. I’m leaving.” I tossed a wad of cash onto the table, considering it payment for the meal, and turned to go. One month. If I could just make it through this month, I could completely disappear from this world. 2 Some time later, I went to the top floor of Shepherd Group with the divorce papers. I needed to get his signature while his attention was entirely on Penelope. This way, I could smoothly disentangle my assets and prepare for what was next. “Mrs. Shepherd, Mr. Shepherd is in an important meeting and isn’t seeing anyone.” The bodyguard, a formidable presence, blocked my path like an iron tower. A meeting? I peered through the half-closed blinds, past the bulletproof glass door. I clearly saw the man who never took painkillers even for bullet removal, kneeling beside Penelope. With the finest tweezers, he was meticulously picking tiny shards of glass from her wound. Penelope flinched in pain. He immediately stopped, his breathing even softening. He pressed his forehead against hers, soothing her with a tenderness I had never heard. “Penelope, darling, it’ll be over soon. From now on, I’ll assign ten men to follow you. If anyone ever makes you bleed again, I’ll wipe out their entire family.” Was that Damien Shepherd? The uncrowned king of Saint Christopher? I once took a rival’s blade for him, earning thirty-nine stitches on my back. His only response then was a cold glance: “If it hurts, endure it. Don’t play pitiful in front of me.” After that, I never dared to cry out in pain. “Madam.” The bodyguard looked uneasy. Maintaining a blank expression, I handed the documents to him. “When he has a moment, tell him to sign these.” I expected him to send his legal team to fight over the assets, given the intricate intertwining of Shepherd and Thorne interests. I had even prepared to give up seventy percent of my fortune. But five minutes later, the bodyguard returned with the signed papers. He hadn’t even bothered to look at the specific terms, simply scrawling his signature, bold and unhesitating, on the last page. His signature cut through the paper, devoid of any lingering sentiment. Holding the thin document, I felt an incredible lightness. At eighteen, my father had offered me as a sacrifice to this emotionless madman, a pawn to ensure our family’s survival in the business wars. He had no sense of pain, no bottom line, no understanding of love. I had tried to prepare his meals daily, to tend to him when he returned late at night, smelling of blood. I had even unhesitatingly stood by him during the internal power struggles of the Shepherd family, only to be kidnapped and nearly drowned by his political enemies. I thought my five years of devotion would melt the iceberg. It turned out, icebergs do melt. Just not for me. The divorce cooling-off period still had half a month left, and Damien hadn’t returned to our estate in the Palisades once. This conveniently allowed me to transfer my remaining assets. To avoid arousing his suspicion, I continued my routine of shopping and afternoon teas, contacting my people in London only in secret. One day, passing an old-fashioned tea room in Port Royal, I unexpectedly saw Penelope. She was in a corner with a sharply dressed man, who seemed to be pulling at her. “Sister!” Though blind, Penelope’s hearing was exceptionally acute; she recognized the click of my heels. She pulled her hand free from the man and fumbled her way towards me, clutching my sleeve tightly. Seeing the bodyguards trailing me, the man cursed under his breath and walked away. “Who was that?” I coldly shook her hand off, not wanting any contact. Her eyes reddened, her voice trembling. “He’s an old acquaintance I once helped. He developed a gambling addiction and keeps asking me for money. Today, he even tried to lay hands on me… Sister, could you just have a cup of tea with me? I’m a little scared.” In my past life, Damien had called her a lotus blooming in the mud, the purest light in Saint Christopher. I hadn’t believed it then. But seeing her now, looking so frightened, I couldn’t help but feel a flicker of certainty. I initially wanted to refuse. But glancing at my watch, I had an hour until I was due to pick up a fake passport from a contact in the black market. So, I took her to a nearby private dining restaurant. I just wanted her to stay safe and out of trouble, so it wouldn’t eventually fall back on me. We had just settled into the private room, and the food hadn’t even arrived, when she suddenly clutched her stomach, her forehead covered in cold sweat. 3 “What’s wrong?” I stood up. “Sister, I’m so sorry.” She clutched the tablecloth, gasping for breath. “I’m pregnant. It’s Damien’s.” Pregnant. My heart lurched, a sharp blade twisting inside me. “He’s been pushing himself so hard lately, trying to quell the opposition from a few of the Shepherd family’s elders. I didn’t want him to be distracted because of me, so I never told him.” Penelope’s lips were bitten raw from pain. Damien Shepherd had never touched me in our five years of marriage. He said he found women’s touch disgusting and deemed procreation a tedious charade. Turns out, he just found me disgusting. If I didn’t leave immediately, and Damien discovered her pregnancy, and then realized I was still in Saint Christopher and knew everything. Given his suspicion and ruthlessness, he would undoubtedly repeat the tactics of my past life, striking first by targeting my parents! I immediately excused myself to the restroom and called Uncle Fitz. “Uncle Fitz! Rebook our flight for tonight! Forget the luggage; we’re taking a boat to international waters to switch ships immediately!” But just as I hung up, a sharp scream suddenly pierced the air outside the private room. This was followed by a “Bang!” a gunshot! A dozen thugs, armed with machetes and iron bars, kicked open the restaurant door. “Kill the blind girl! Damien Shepherd took down our boss’s stronghold; today we’ll take his woman’s life in return!” The scar-faced leader immediately zeroed in on Penelope in the private room. Clearly, they were well-prepared and had already tracked her movements. Penelope shrieked in terror, stumbling blindly, knocking over a chair. I could have escaped through the back door, but the horrifying image of my parents being buried alive in my past life flashed through my mind. I knew Damien too well. If anything happened to Penelope in front of me today, whether I was involved or not, Damien would pin the blame on me. He would assume I, out of jealousy and hatred, had hired these thugs. To ensure my parents’ safe departure, I gritted my teeth. I grabbed a red wine bottle from the table and, with a “Crash!”, shattered it against the corner of the table. “Run!” I pulled Penelope, desperately fleeing towards the kitchen’s emergency exit. But I’d forgotten she was blind, and now, pregnant and utterly terrified. Just as we were about to reach the door, she tripped hard, dragging me down with her. “Run? Well, Mrs. Shepherd is here too. Perfect, a two-for-one deal! Let’s take care of both of them!” The scar-faced thug grinned menacingly as he caught up, kicking me hard in the back. I felt as if my spine was about to snap, a mouthful of blood rushing to my throat. Several heavy steel pipes swung down. “The blind girl is pregnant! Boss, why don’t we cut her belly open and send Damien Shepherd a grand gift?!” A junior thug suggested venomously. Penelope cowered in the corner, letting out a desperate plea. “Don’t touch my baby, please!” The scar-faced leader grabbed my hair, dragging me. “Let’s deal with the lawful wife first! The high-and-mighty Mrs. Shepherd of the Shepherd family, let’s see what she’s really made of!” Several dirty hands tore at my clothes. I tried to fight back, but after the heavy blow, I was utterly defenseless. Just as my coat was completely ripped open, and despair threatened to engulf me, a deafening barrage of heavy gunfire erupted from the doorway! “Boom! Boom! Boom!”

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1 On my first date with billionaire’s son Leo Maxwell, he mocked my $200 dress—saved from months of part-time work—calling it cheap polyester that would “shock” him. He made me take it off and burned it. Left shivering in the snow in a thin top, I endured laughter from him and his cashmere-coated friends. The next day, he blocked me with his Ferrari at school, loudly apologizing with a Van Cleef necklace. “Country folks aren’t picky about fabric. Use this for better clothes, or my card.” Amidst stares and whispers, I refused the gift and broke up with him. He smirked. “Still upset? Name your price.” I pushed past him. “I want nothing. Just leave me alone.” All I wanted was my dignity. … Leo didn’t respond. His gaze swept over my roommate, Grace, who stood behind me. He casually placed his hand on her shoulder, his tone dismissive. “Hailey, your temper is getting out of hand. All I did was call your name once. You never talked about breaking up when I used to buy you gifts.” He paused, his eyes flicking towards me, then back to Grace. “Look at her, she’s so unreasonable compared to you. How about you be my girlfriend?” My heart pounded. Grace didn’t push his hand away. Instead, she leaned closer to him, smoothing things over with a smile. “Hailey’s just being dramatic, Leo. Don’t be mad.” Leo chuckled, deliberately raising his voice. “Mad about what? If someone doesn’t appreciate me, there are plenty who will.” He turned to Grace, his fingers kneading her shoulder. “Be my girlfriend, and next week I’ll buy you that new designer bag. What do you say?” Grace’s eyes lit up, and she was about to speak when Leo suddenly gestured to me with his chin. “What do you say, give in now, and I’ll pretend this never happened. Otherwise…” He deliberately paused, his hand sliding down to clasp Grace’s wrist. I sniffled. I looked at the hand that had held mine countless times, and suddenly, my tears stopped. My voice was steadier than I expected. “No, thank you. When it’s over, it’s over. I wish you both well.” I turned and walked away. Leo’s smile froze on his face, then he let out a scoff. “Don’t act tough. You’ll be back to me within three days. But for today, I guess I’ll just have to spoil my new darling.” He deliberately drew out his words, his eyes fixed on me. He was waiting for me to turn back. I heard Grace’s laughter blend with his words, growing fainter with each step I took. Back in my dorm, I sat on my chair, and the tears I’d held back finally streamed down. It was the weekend, and my roommates were out. I cried for a long time before I recovered. I packed up the necklace, the plush toys, and other small items he had given me, sealing the box and placing it by the door, intending to return them in a few days. By the time I finished tidying up, it was evening. I opened my phone to see a photo he’d posted. Grace was in the passenger seat of his car, holding a bubble tea and smiling. The caption read, “New beginnings.” On the dashboard was the acrylic plate Leo had once put there to appease me, inscribed with “Hailey’s Spot.” I stared at the photo for two seconds, feeling a heavy ache in my chest. I called my best friend, Mia, then turned off my phone and left. Mia was waiting for me at the hotpot restaurant. Seeing my swollen eyes, she didn’t ask questions, simply spooned meat into my bowl. Halfway through the meal, when my emotions had stabilized, she quietly asked, “Why did you really break up? Was it just because he came to school for you?” I lowered my head, stirring the soup in my bowl, and gently shook my head. “No.” 2 When I first met Leo, I had no idea who he was. He rolled up to me in a beat-up old van, and my younger brother, mistaking him for a kidnapper, gave him a good beating. Later, I found out his luxury car had been scratched by a farm vehicle, and he was given the van to drive while his car was being repaired, which was how he ended up in our village. He stayed at our house to recover, occasionally plucking wildflowers by the roadside to give to me. One day, as I was picking corn in the fields, he leaned in, smiling. “You look beautiful picking corn. Go out with me, and you won’t have to do this kind of work anymore.” I thought he was joking and casually agreed. It wasn’t until he recovered and came to pick me up in his luxury car that I realized he was a rich young heir. Mia put down her chopsticks. “So why the sudden breakup?” “He always drives his fancy car to school to block me. Students gather around, whispering about me being a ‘gold-digger.’ He hears it but never explains, even joking with his friends, ‘She’s the one who threw herself at me.’” I pursed my lips, lowering my gaze, my nose tingling again. “Last time, I saved two months’ salary to buy a dress, spent two hours doing my makeup to meet him, and he didn’t even glance at it. When he pulled me towards his hotel, the dress snagged on his watch, and he tore it right off, annoyed.” “He always does this. Afterwards, he buys me a plush toy or a necklace as compensation.” I looked down at the cooling soup in my bowl. “This time, he called my name at the school gate again, and everyone was staring. I suddenly woke up. Eight years. I don’t want to coddle him anymore.” Mia sighed, not pressing further. After dinner, she dragged me to a karaoke bar. I sang until my throat was hoarse, but at least I didn’t cry any more. In the private room, I had two beers, and my head started to feel heavy. Mia, seeing my state, didn’t stay long, dropping me off at the dorm around ten. The hallway lights were off. I fumbled in the dark, pushing open the door. Seeing Grace’s bed empty, my heart sank. Thankfully, I was too exhausted to think much else. I took off my coat and collapsed into bed. I wasn’t woken until noon the next day by my phone ringing. I answered without checking the caller ID. On the other end, it sounded like one of Leo’s friends, his voice frantic. “Hailey, get to Leo’s house now! He drank so much last night, saying he didn’t want to live without you. He’s really bad!” My mind reeled, my heart pounding. I hung up, didn’t comb my hair or change my clothes, and jumped on my scooter, rushing to Leo’s house. On the way, I was so flustered I took a wrong turn, and a truck almost hit me. I didn’t catch what the driver yelled, but I gripped the handlebars and sped on. Finally, I arrived at Leo’s apartment building, breathless from running, wanting only to be faster. But the moment I pushed open the door, I froze. A room full of people surrounded the sofa, laughing. Leo was lounging in the middle, and Grace sat on his lap, feeding him grapes. He naturally opened his mouth to take them. He used to always say he didn’t like grapes, preferring me to peel mangoes for him. But when I’d cut and brought them to him, he wouldn’t eat them, just ruffle my hair and say, “So obedient.” Leo saw me, raised an eyebrow, and turned to his friends, chuckling. “I told you she’d come. I won won the bet.” 3 Someone laughed and handed him an envelope filled with money. He took it and gave it to Grace, then looked at me, his eyes full of mockery. “Hailey Vance, you really can’t live without me, can you? You heard something happened to me, and you rushed over without even washing your face?” The others joined in the teasing. One guy laughed and called out, “Hailey, Leo already said he doesn’t like you. You’re broken up, and you’re still chasing after him? Is no one else interested in you?” Another chimed in, “Leo, look how desperate she is. Maybe she wants to come back and continue serving you, hoping to get back together!” “Yeah, right, wasn’t she acting all high and mighty before? Now she’s practically throwing herself at him?” “What breakup? I bet she’s just playing hard to get…” I stood there, unable to stop the tears from streaming down my cheeks. Seeing me cry, Leo’s mockery deepened. He pushed Grace off his lap and walked over to me, pinching my face, forcing me to look at him. “What are you crying for?” He leaned in, his breath heavy with alcohol, and lightly touched my lips, his tone flippant. “Now you regret it? Beg me, and I’ll…” Before he could finish, I slapped him. “Smack!” The laughter in the living room instantly ceased. Everyone gasped. Leo’s face froze, his eyes instantly turning cold. He frowned and pushed me away. “Hailey Vance, you dare hit me? Over such a trivial matter?” Grace immediately rushed over, pulling on Leo’s arm, soothing him softly. “Leo, don’t be angry. She’s just jealous, she’s gone crazy.” Then, she glanced at me. “She was always like this in the dorms, always getting too close to guys in class, deliberately trying to make people misunderstand. Didn’t she just want all the guys to fawn over her? Now she’s trying to act innocent.” I wiped away my tears with the back of my hand, my eyes bloodshot, my voice rising. “Leo Maxwell, I must have been blind to ever be with you. From today on, I will never look for you again. If you die, it has nothing to do with me!” Leo froze for a moment, a flicker of panic in his eyes, but then he scoffed. “Last time you threw a tantrum, didn’t you come back to me within three days, clutching the plush toy I gave you? Now you’re trying this again? Fine, I’ll wait. But when you regret it, don’t come begging me.” He leaned back on the sofa, pulling Grace closer, then whispered something to his friends, utterly convinced I’d return. He didn’t even glance at me again. I didn’t watch the merriment in the living room anymore. I turned and walked out. Just downstairs, I saw my scooter lying crooked by the roadside, its back tire flat, punctured by someone unknown. I struggled to push the bike towards the dorm, the path dark, with one or two drunk people occasionally passing by. My heart pounded, and I quickened my pace. Thankfully, I made it back to the dorm safely. The boxes were still by the door. I grew angrier the more I thought about it, kicking them into a corner before collapsing into bed. 4 The next morning, I carried the boxes to the post office. When I tried to pay by scanning the QR code, my phone repeatedly flashed “Insufficient balance.” I clicked into my transaction history and saw it clearly: yesterday afternoon, Leo had used the shared payment feature to transfer the only two thousand three hundred and fifty dollars left in my account—money I had painstakingly saved from two months of part-time work. “Miss, stop dawdling! There are people waiting behind you!” The post office worker’s voice was impatient. Several students in line looked over, and some recognized me, whispering. “Isn’t that the little bird who broke up with her sugar daddy? I heard she used to spend all of Leo’s money. Now that she’s been dumped, she’s broke.” Another student, sounding scornful, spoke louder. “What ‘little bird’? They call them ‘golden canaries,’ but really, she’s just a prostitute. And I heard this kind of person even won some award, right?” … Those words pierced my ears, incredibly harsh. I instinctively gripped my phone, told the post office worker, “Give me five minutes,” and ducked into the alley behind the post office to make a call. “Mom, I want to borrow some money…” My mother’s voice, booming through the phone, hurt my ears. “You ungrateful wretch! I told you not to mess with rich people, but you wouldn’t listen! Now they’ve dumped you, and you’re coming to the family for money? I say you deserve it! You little hussy…” I bit my lip, not daring to reply. Hanging up, I had no choice but to carry the boxes towards Leo’s house, my arms aching from the cardboard digging into them the entire way. A few items fell out as I juggled the boxes, and I clutched them in my hand. Just as I reached the entrance of his complex, I saw Leo’s car pull up. Grace was in the passenger seat, surrounded by several luxury shopping bags. She deliberately held them up when she saw me. The car stopped, and Leo rolled down the window. He glanced at the boxes in my arms, a subtle sigh of relief, then raised an eyebrow and chuckled. “I told you you couldn’t live without me.” He then pointed to a bench nearby. “Here, wait here. Grace and I are going to buy a bag up ahead. I’ll be back for you later.” Before I could say, “I’m here to return your things,” he hit the gas, and the car sped off. Grace poked her head out the window, waving triumphantly at me. … I dumped the boxes at Leo’s front door and turned to leave. I needed to make money. That two thousand dollars, I decided, would just be his payment for all the meals he’d bought me. I wasn’t going to ask for it back. That afternoon, the department suddenly announced a commendation ceremony for the “National Scholarship” recipients. My advisor had called me the day before, asking me to prepare a speech, saying I’d speak as a representative. But the one who walked onto the stage to receive the award was Grace. She wore a new designer dress Leo had bought her, her face even paler than usual. She held a certificate in her hand and, as she came down, deliberately walked over to me, whispering, “Hailey, someone reported you for misconduct, so you can’t blame me for getting the award.” Seeing my frown, she continued in a low voice, “I failed five courses, you know. Leo helped me contact the professors to change my grades. Seriously, without him, how would I ever graduate?” She then added, “Oh, Leo also told me to tell you that your hard work means nothing compared to his word.”

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Ever since I was plagued by Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD), all I wanted was to die. But then a damned “System” dragged me into some melodramatic, dog-eat-dog “real vs. fake heiress” romance novel. In my first life, I was the swapped-out, fake heiress. The whole family, from top to bottom, only had eyes for the real one. She’d self-harm to frame me, then my adoptive parents threw me into a dog training camp. And my so-called adoptive brother? He forced me to “pay for my sins with my body.” I torched that house, then jumped into a river to end it all. The main characters were wiped out, the mini-world collapsed. So the System threw me into the next one. In my second life, I was the real heiress, but again, the whole family favored the fake one. She faked illnesses to set me up; my biological parents extracted my blood to treat her anemia. My biological brother even forced me to take those unspeakable photos, making me the scapegoat for her. Just as that fake heiress, Brittany, was gloating in front of me, the System suddenly warned: [Host, you cannot engage in any more extreme behavior in this world, or your body in the original world will permanently die!] I smiled. Extreme or not, it didn’t really matter. Mainly… I just wanted to die. 1 So I walked straight up, grabbed Brittany by the hair, snatched a blood bag, and poured it down her throat. “Anemic, are we?” “Blood transfusions are so slow.” “You need to chug it down!” The blood bag burst, splattering blood everywhere. Nurses screamed, backing away in unison. I snatched a needle and kept poking holes in myself. “Go on, little glutton, drink up, it’s all yours!” The plot of this world dictated that Brittany faked anemia, and my biased biological parents would then use me, with my rare blood type, as a living blood bank. I’d already given up on life, so dying from excessive blood loss seemed convenient. And I could even drag someone down with me before I went. Not a bad deal. Brittany struggled desperately, terrified, her face and hair covered in crimson. The scene was grotesquely eerie. “Cough, cough… Help me…” My parents, Nathan and Evelyn, rushed forward to stop me. “Stop it now!” “Are you insane?” I wasn’t insane. I just wanted to die. The doctors in my original world called it Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder. When triggered, I exhibited severe violent tendencies. That’s why, in the first world, after being treated unfairly, I violently burned down the entire “family.” The System then teleported me to this second world. It also threatened me not to kill anyone else, or my original body would die. Laughable. PTSD not only comes with violent tendencies but also severe suicidal ideation. The System wants me to passively endure abuse, so I’ll first unleash my violence on these people, then use the System’s hand to end myself. A win-win situation, no loss there! 2 A large group of bodyguards burst in and subdued me. Nathan and Evelyn held the dishevelled Brittany, their hearts aching, not knowing what to do. As for me, my face was pale, like a demon from another world, mocking the hypocritical affection before my eyes. Nathan saw my indifferent expression, his face darkening suddenly. He slapped me across the face. “How could I have given birth to such a lunatic!” “You almost killed Brittany just now!” “She’s been weak since childhood, and timid. All she asked for was a little blood, what’s there to make a fuss about?” “Just as expected from someone raised outside, no manners at all!” My hands and feet were restrained, so I rammed my head hard into Nathan’s nose. With a cry of “Ouch,” Nathan clutched his nose, tears and snot streaming down his face. “You’re out of control!” “I’m your father!” Evelyn, seeing this, abandoned comforting Brittany and rushed forward to scold me. “You child, how could you lay hands on your father?” “Brittany would never act like this…” I cut her off with a cold laugh. “You yourselves said I was raised outside. You gave birth but didn’t raise me, so what kind of parents are you?” “Brittany was spoiled by you for eighteen years; isn’t it natural for her to be filial?” “Her adoptive parents abused me since childhood, making me live worse than a dog. You didn’t avenge me, you even extracted my blood for her. Any debt of birth, it’s been paid.” “If you still think it’s not enough, then keep drawing! Draw until I’m dry!” “I’ve wanted to die for ages anyway!” Nathan and Evelyn’s faces turned ashen, too angry to speak. A normal nurse on the side, gathering her courage, intervened. “Mr. Miller, Mrs. Miller, Miss Lane has already given 1000cc of blood. She also has external injuries; continuing to draw blood would really cause problems…” Brittany had ingested quite a bit of blood earlier and now felt nauseous and queasy. She quickly agreed with the nurse’s suggestion. “Mom and Dad, let’s just go home.” “Don’t let my sister upset you too much.” Nathan turned and left, while Evelyn sighed incessantly. “I don’t know where she picked up such bad habits. Not only does she lie and slander her adoptive parents, but she also threatens her parents with her life. You were so well-behaved when you were born…” “Forget it, you don’t have to come home today. Go out and temper your personality for a while.” “Come back when you’ve learned your lesson.” The group left in a swarm. I remained, suddenly feeling a surge of intense sorrow. It was this body’s instinctive grief. According to the plot, Nathan and Evelyn also loved the real heiress, they just weren’t good at expressing it. Later, they would weep over the real heiress’s corpse, filled with remorse. They would severely punish the lying Brittany, send Brittany’s adoptive parents to prison, and avenge the tragically dead real heiress. Finally, they’d inherit the family fortune and spend their lives in remembrance. The real heiress had silently endured harm from her family, all for a love as cheap as theirs. I wiped away the body’s tears and laughed aloud. Love that isn’t obvious, isn’t love at all. There’s no such thing as someone with a “sharp tongue but a soft heart.” Anyone who hurts you with their words has a sharp heart. The Millers hadn’t even bothered to change the real heiress’s surname back, which proved they didn’t care. To torment myself for a non-existent love, to endure abuse, was truly not worth it. I didn’t follow the plot to the pigeon-hole apartment the real heiress rented; instead, I walked straight to the hospital rooftop. Since bleeding out didn’t kill me, I’d just jump. Sensing my intense will to die, the System issued a warning. [Host, you cannot engage in self-destructive behavior, or your original world body will die!] I ignored the warning, spread my arms, and leaped. How wonderful. Now both worlds would be clean. 3 The anticipated scene of my head splattering didn’t play out. A pair of strong hands gripped my wrist tightly. I looked up and saw a handsome, aristocratic man. He was staring at me with utter disgust. “Brittany said you’ve been causing a scene at the hospital all day, and upset Mom and Dad terribly.” “What, just because you’re a Miller by birth, you think you can control us?” “Dream on.” “No one in the Miller family cares if you live or die.” Ethan Miller, my biological brother. According to his character profile, he was a doting brother. Even during Evelyn’s pregnancy, Ethan had already taken on the role of big brother. Every day, he’d read fairy tales to the sister in Mom’s belly. The little fellow personally built a princess room and put all his most beloved toys in his sister’s room. But the sister he doted on now was the fake heiress, Brittany, not me, his actual blood relative. And in the future, the sister he’d dote on would be a cold corpse, not the living me before his eyes. My gaze was completely unwavering, calm as if I were looking at a stranger. “If you don’t care, then get lost.” Ethan’s face darkened. He yanked me back onto the rooftop and pushed me down onto the rough concrete. “Are you out of your mind?” “Weren’t you constantly saying you wanted to come home, asking me for a chance?” “What, you couldn’t keep up the act for long, so you changed the script?” “No one’s going to pity you for playing the death card.” “If you really want to die, don’t pick a crowded place and make people go to the trouble of saving you!” According to the original plot, the real heiress genuinely admired her brother. She’d make useless crafts to please her brother, who owned countless luxury items. She’d also endure stomach pains to cook him a warming soup. But all she ever got in return was humiliation and ridicule. I would never waste another ounce of my energy. I ignored his roars and ran downstairs. I saw a nurse pushing a cart, snatched the surgical scissors from it, and aimed for my heart. The nurse’s face went white with fear. I gave her a reassuring nod. “Don’t worry, this won’t get you into trouble. Once I die, this world will collapse…” Before the scissors could even pierce my clothes, my hand was again tightly gripped by Ethan. He was breathing heavily, his expression a mix of anger and confusion. “You really want to die?” “Then you’ll die after you’ve served your last purpose!” Ethan pulled my hand and locked me into an all-black commercial van. After a bumpy ride, I was brought to an abandoned warehouse. The floor was littered with Brittany’s indecent photos. Ethan’s voice was chilling. “You had someone Photoshop Brittany’s indecent photos to ruin her reputation. So I’ll make you take a real set.” “We’ll tell everyone that you were the original subject of these photos.” “Anyway, you’re going to die, so you surely won’t care about your reputation, will you?” 4 I knew this part of the storyline. Ethan believed Brittany’s photos were Photoshopped, but in reality, Brittany had gotten herself into trouble by hooking up with various people in private. I, the real heiress, was just a scapegoat. Ethan gestured for several burly men to come forward and restrain my hands and feet. A flood of unpleasant memories surged into my mind. Being framed, disbelieved, humiliated… I was triggered again. My whole body trembled uncontrollably, and I bit and clawed desperately at the approaching men. “Don’t touch me!” “I didn’t do anything! Why are you doing this to me?!” “Ethan, is your brain just for decoration? Why do you believe everything Brittany says without checking? Even a pig is smarter than you!” Ethan’s eyelashes fluttered slightly, and a flicker of indecision crossed his face. Just then, his phone rang. Ethan glanced down at it, and his tightly furrowed brow relaxed. “Hello, Brittany? Don’t worry, I promised I’d get you revenge, and I always keep my word.” “Selene Lane knows she did something wrong and is just pretending to want to die. I won’t fall for it.” Hanging up the phone, Ethan didn’t look at me again. Instead, he nodded to his subordinates, walked straight out of the warehouse, and lit a cigar. Countless flashbulbs flared repeatedly, blinding me. I was like a trapped animal in a cage, struggling, biting, howling helplessly… Finally, the flashbulbs died out, and the main door swung open. A man radiating an icy aura strode in, rushing over. He carefully removed his own jacket and covered me with it. “Don’t be afraid, it’s all over.” Ethan stood behind the man, his voice laced with naked contempt. “Nicholas, don’t be fooled by Selene’s pitiful act.” “She was throwing a fit and wanting to die just a minute ago, but she couldn’t keep the charade up.” “Someone who truly wants to die wouldn’t make such a pathetic scene just from having photos taken. They wouldn’t scream like that.” “Anyone who didn’t know better would think we were slaughtering a pig…” Ethan hadn’t even finished his sentence when the man in front of him changed his expression. “No, her tongue!” Blood began to flow profusely from the corners of my mouth. It turned out that, under the immense mental anguish I had just suffered, I had bitten off my own tongue. The intense pain finally suppressed my fear. The System blared frantic alarms. [Host violating self-harm protocol!] [Detecting a decline in host’s life signs in this world. Original world life will be erased!] I used my last ounce of strength to open my eyes and look at the face of the man holding me. Even at this point, the System’s plot was still diligently reminding me. This person was Nicholas Vance, the arranged marriage fiancé of the real heiress in this world. He was once the real heiress’s only light but had fallen for the fake heiress, Brittany, abusing the real heiress physically and emotionally. I was amused by this ridiculous plot, and blood streamed heavily from my nose and mouth. Nicholas was sobbing, his brows furrowed in anguish. He gave me a subtle sense of familiarity. He didn’t seem like a character from a novel; he was more like someone from real life. Before I lost consciousness, I thought I heard Nicholas yelling desperately into the void. “Stop it, she’s not going to make it!” “Selene, hold on!” “Please, don’t die…” 5 When I regained consciousness, I found myself back in the Vance family’s mansion. Private doctors filled the entire room. The Miller family was also present. “Nicholas, what did the doctor say? Is Selene alright?” The System simultaneously broadcast my physical condition in my mind. [The Vance family utilized top-tier medical equipment to reattach your tongue. Life essence has returned, and the mission continues.] Upon receiving Nicholas’s affirmative reply, the Miller family breathed a sigh of relief. Evelyn’s attitude even shifted slightly. “Actually, Selene has a point. She grew up outside, and it was our neglect that led her astray.” “She caused trouble, but we, as parents, also bear responsibility.” Ethan, however, remained dismissive. “Even if she’s unhappy, Brittany was just a baby when she was swapped. She’s innocent; she shouldn’t be taking her anger out on Brittany.” “Brittany is supposed to debut as a star in the future. How can she do that if those photos get out…” Nathan slapped Ethan across the face. “You can’t actually make her take those kinds of photos! She’s your sister too!” “Now she’s bitten off her tongue, it’s disgraceful!” Ethan, having been hit, still complained. “I wasn’t actually going to release the photos.” “She’s throwing tantrums without limits; you shouldn’t keep spoiling her.” “I think she’s faking it, just to make you soft-hearted and make Brittany suffer!” Brittany stood by, utterly innocent, fluttering like a white flower. “It’s okay, I’m not a Miller by birth after all. It’s natural for Mom and Dad to prefer my sister…” Evelyn’s heart ached, and Nathan changed his tone. “No one can replace Brittany.” “Nicholas, how about we transfer Selene to the Miller family’s private hospital? You two aren’t married yet, after all.” “Brittany is the one who’s truly devoted to you, otherwise, this engagement…” Nicholas’s face was grim, his tone polite yet distant. “Selene remains the one I’m engaged to. That won’t change.” “Selene’s suicide attempt, even if it was a tantrum, needs to be taken seriously.” “She holds grievances against you all. It would be best for her to recuperate at the Vance estate before returning.” The Millers looked reluctant, but since Nicholas was sending them away, they had no choice but to leave. Brittany looked at Nicholas with immense longing. The Millers noticed this and pulled Nicholas aside for a hushed conversation. Nicholas glanced back at my semi-conscious form, then finally nodded. Once the room was quiet, Nicholas returned to my bedside and stroked my rough hand. “Selene, your tongue is injured, so you can’t speak for a while.” “Don’t worry. If the Millers don’t want you, the Vances will be your family from now on.” “I am your beloved, and that will never change.” “Just trust me, and everything will pass, okay?” I didn’t speak, acting as if I truly believed Nicholas’s words. I slowly recovered at the Vance estate. Nicholas was indeed very thoughtful. Not only did he prevent the Millers from visiting me, but he also had all the walls in the Vance mansion’s rooms padded, and the windows sealed. No sharp tools were allowed in my sight; all food was prepared and brought in sealed paper containers. Nurses guarded me around the clock, eliminating any potential dangers. The night I could speak again, Nicholas carried me to the largest, most luxurious padded room on the top floor, and we embraced. Nicholas was gentle throughout. I even had the illusion that I was loved. But after a few days of intimacy, Nicholas called in the family doctor for a comprehensive check-up on my body. The doctor’s eyes lit up. “Mr. Vance, Miss Lane is successfully pregnant!” Nicholas looked at my belly with tears in his eyes, his gaze filled with the joy of something lost and then found. “Selene, we’re having a child.” “Once the baby is born, they’ll be the heir to both the Vance and Miller families, and you will always be my only wife.” I didn’t say anything more. Even though my tongue had fully recovered, I had become completely silent, staring blankly at the sky every day. The doctors could only explain this phenomenon by saying that the high levels of estrogen secreted during pregnancy had softened my personality. Six months later, on Brittany’s and my birthday, Nicholas threw a grand birthday banquet for me. The entire Miller family was in attendance. They all looked pleased at my swollen belly. Only Brittany privately showed me a sneer. “Do you think Nicholas marrying you means he truly loves you?” “He’s doing it all for me.” “My body is delicate and frail, not suited for childbirth. And you, with your matching rare blood type, are the perfect surrogate.” “What’s in your belly is Nicholas’s and my fertilized egg.” “Once you give birth to our child, all you’ll get is an empty title: Mrs. Vance.” “No one will ever love you.” “Mom and Dad, Brother, Nicholas, even the baby in your belly—they’re all mine!”

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1 Everyone knows that the popular idol, Daisy Bloom, peaked right after her debut, not only bagging Best Actress and Best Supporting Actress awards, but also clinching Best Leading Actress this year. Daisy’s national popularity soared, yet what intrigued everyone more was her boyfriend outside the entertainment industry, whom she had been dating since her debut. Rumor had it he was a mysterious figure, wealthy and influential, who had lavished immense sums on Daisy’s career, all just to see her smile. They said the couple had supported each other from their school days to their wedding, and were destined to reach the pinnacle together. People were dying of curiosity about this enigmatic tycoon, whom even paparazzi couldn’t dig up. Who was this elusive figure who had captured the heart of the nation’s goddess so completely? But I knew. Because the mysterious tycoon was my biological younger brother. On the screen, the beautiful woman, dressed in an expensive haute couture gown, a limited edition Chanel bag in her left hand, and a dazzling emerald diamond ring on her right, gracefully walked the red carpet, smiling as she accepted an interview. “Daisy, this haute couture you’re wearing tonight is priceless. It seems our Daisy is highly favored by the brand.” “Oh, not really. These are just everyday gifts from my boyfriend, they just happen to suit tonight’s theme, you know.” Daisy, with her graceful figure and ample bosom, was in the spotlight, captivating all eyes. I squinted, noticing that the limited edition haute couture and emerald diamond ring looked somewhat familiar. I turned to my mother beside me. “Why are my things on Daisy?” Mom looked indifferent, admiring her freshly manicured nails with satisfaction. “Oh, I gave them to Daisy. You never wear them anyway; they’d just collect dust. Might as well give them to Daisy, she looks good in them.” “But they’re mine.” Mom started to get impatient, annoyed by my stinginess, and even asked if I was angry because I was jealous of Daisy’s looks. I smiled. Here we go again. Ever since I learned I was the tragic female antagonist in a CEO novel, this world suddenly made perfect sense. 2 The CEO is my biological younger brother, Luke Wayne, and the female lead is, naturally, the universally adored “little lotus” Daisy Bloom. As a mere tool in the CEO and the lotus’s love story, I am, of course, to be tirelessly exploited—giving money when needed, offering strength when required, and even sacrificing a kidney if asked. Daisy became an award-winning actress because I exhausted every resource to promote her. Luke became a CEO because I willingly transferred all my assets to him. And that wasn’t enough; as a perfect tool, I had to shine in my role. Their son grew up to be a sociopath, shielded by the excuse “he’s just a child.” He terrorized classmates in high school, verbally abused teachers, and finally, after causing the death of a female student, he pushed me forward to take the blame. With Mom’s beauty and reputation, and Dad’s wealth and power, a little manipulation would easily seal my conviction. As I was beaten and bullied in prison, dying in an forgotten corner, the successful Daisy shyly nestled in Luke’s arms, sighing, “Penelope is truly a good person, what a shame…” Luke cut her off, “Don’t mention anything so unlucky. Our family is happy and harmonious; that’s all that matters.” Oh, I just love being alive. This feeling of being punished for bad karma in my previous life—now having a kidney removed and ending up in prison—is just irresistible. It’s truly laughable; such petty tricks trying to outwit a master. They want me dead? Fine. But if I don’t get to live, then neither do they. 3 “Penelope, darling, whenever you have a moment, could you sign that property transfer document? Your brother is all grown up now; it looks terrible for him to still be stuck in a small company.” Mom placed a thick agreement in front of me. I didn’t touch it, but I could clearly see the large words “Property Transfer Agreement” on the cover. The beneficiary, of course, was Luke. This agreement, I realized, marked the beginning of my tragic fate. Mom and my brother would conspire to force me to give up my assets, arguing that a woman would eventually marry, and all that money in her hands would only benefit outsiders. Then, they quickly set me up with a blind date. He appeared cultured and refined before marriage, but behind that facade was an absolute devil. He reveled in beating and tormenting me, often bringing strange women home to engage in public displays of affection, mocking me as a barren hen who couldn’t even lay an egg. And through all this, the “little lotus” would still comfort me, telling me to just endure it. “Men are all like that. All you need to do is serve your husband well and give him a son, and they’ll naturally come home.” “Don’t all women go through this? Just bear with it.” “We’re doing this for your own good.” … Hmph, sign nothing. I brushed aside the agreement, picked up a piece of fruit from the table, and pointed at Daisy on the TV. “Family before career, why don’t you find Luke a wife first? Besides, aren’t you eager for grandchildren? With a daughter-in-law, you won’t have to worry about not having grandchildren, will you?” The anger from my refusal to sign vanished instantly. A flicker of surprise and delight appeared in Mom’s eyes. “You, weren’t you against Daisy before? Why are you agreeing to your brother marrying her now?” I smiled sweetly. Before, it was because I was blinded by foolishness, thinking Luke was still young and impressionable, while Daisy’s ambition was too obvious, her desire plain to see. That’s why I stubbornly refused to let Daisy enter the family. For this, I received countless dirty looks from everyone, and Daisy herself subtly portrayed a pitiful image to the public, of being obstructed by a cruel older relative. Now, I couldn’t care less about meddling. Daisy was so desperate to marry into the Wayne family, wasn’t it just to become a wealthy and powerful lady? If she found out that the Wayne family wasn’t as rich as she imagined, would she still be able to smile? “Was I? It was just that the time wasn’t right before. Now, seeing how in love they are, I have nothing more to say.” My concession made the whole family breathe a sigh of relief. That evening, Luke, who had been called home, looked at me directly for the first time, saying smugly, “You should have agreed sooner. I know, you’re just envious and jealous of her.” “Daisy is prettier and more beautiful than you, gentler and more sensible. The Wayne family is incredibly lucky to have her, so don’t even think about bullying her.” I smiled and nodded. Indeed, the Wayne family was incredibly lucky to have Daisy. But what did that have to do with me? My name is Penelope, not Wayne. 4 Perhaps fearing I’d change my mind, the two married with incredible speed. I had no idea when these ready-made wedding dresses and tiaras had been prepared. It seemed Daisy was even more eager than I’d imagined. At the family dinner, Daisy was again decked out in designer wear. This time, she wasn’t carrying one of my dusty handbags; instead, she was wearing a pair of high heels I’d been planning to throw out. She leaned against Luke, radiating blissful bubbles of happiness. As soon as she saw me, her face first paled, then stretched into a stiff smile. “Penelope, you’re finally here. I’m so glad you approved of my marriage to Luke.” I have to say, Daisy’s Best Leading Actress award must have been largely undeserved. Her feigned attempt at holding back tears, her forced smile—it was clearly fake. The triumph and disdain in her eyes weren’t even properly concealed. I felt a strong urge to vomit. “Yes, aren’t you happy? Five years, and you finally made it through this door.” The audience was right; Luke and Daisy truly went from school uniforms to wedding gowns. They met in high school. Back then, Luke was a rich kid with more money than sense, a tyrant in school whom no one dared cross. A pure, unpretentious, beautiful, and elegant “little lotus” like Daisy, once she entered his sight, he was deeply smitten. Their love story was extensive, almost endless. In short, it was “you love me, I love you, happily ever after.” Upon hearing my words, Daisy immediately put on a tearful expression. “I know you look down on my background, Penelope, but I have my dignity, and I have the right to pursue love.” But some people just fall for that act. Luke, hearing her, immediately bristled, glaring at me with a warning in his eyes. “Penelope, we only notified you about our marriage out of respect. You have no right to put on airs, so show some respect!” Oh, how charming, “notified you just out of respect.” Mom chimed in, looking displeased. “Yes, Penelope, Daisy will be part of the Wayne family from now on. It’s better for everyone to speak nicely. Don’t be so thoughtless.” My lips curled. Just as I was about to speak, Daisy cut me off. The delicate and charming Miss Bloom softly spoke up for me. “Luke, Mom, don’t talk about Penelope like that. Perhaps she’s a little older, and without a boyfriend, so her temper might be a bit short.” “Penelope’s at a somewhat awkward age, but I know a gentleman. He’s honest and quiet, filial to his parents, and quite handsome. Why don’t we introduce him to Penelope first?” A classic maneuver, a trap within a trap. My mom’s eyes lit up, but seeing the disapproval in my brother’s eyes, she remained silent. After all, she hadn’t gotten the property inheritance from me yet. My silence made Daisy even bolder. 5 “Penelope, don’t be like those women online. A woman still needs a man to rely on to live a stable life.” Luke found this comment very satisfying and kissed her right there. I was speechless. She wasn’t just talking to me, she was talking about my internet family members! Who gave her such audacity? “Miss Bloom, why do you just spout nonsense? Please understand that this family is currently supported by the very woman you’re talking about. You probably didn’t even know that, did you?” My father founded the Bloom Group, but unfortunately passed away in an accident a few years ago. After his death, his will was revealed: I was his sole heir. Even Mom and Luke only received regular trust fund payments. Mr. Wayne, Luke’s father, was an employee under my father. I don’t know when he and Mom got involved, but two years after my father’s death, she took me and Luke and remarried into the Wayne family. She even wanted to change both our surnames to Wayne. I stubbornly refused, and in the end, only Luke, originally Bloom, changed his name to Luke Wayne. After turning eighteen, I had fully inherited these assets, and I’ve been secretly managing the Bloom Group all these years. A few years ago, my mother forcefully demanded that Luke join the Bloom Group, but I refused. She didn’t give up, pointing her finger and calling me heartless, saying I only cared about myself and not my brother’s well-being. In the end, I only agreed to give him a manager position in a small subsidiary company; the real power remained with me, Penelope Bloom. Daisy, of course, didn’t know any of this, because in the novel, I had already signed the property transfer documents before she married into the Wayne family. She looked a little confused but quickly recomposed herself, her eyes glistening with starry tears, looking at Luke with a mixture of beauty and defiance. Mr. Wayne, who had been silent all this time, suddenly looked grim, his posture condescending, his tone filled with condescension. “Penelope, who taught you to speak to people like that? You have no manners!” “Yes, yes,” Mom stammered, grabbing me anxiously. “What’s with the Bloom Group and the Wayne family? We’re all one family, no need to distinguish so clearly.” I shook off her hand, stood up expressionlessly, and scanned the room. Since all the important players had made their entrance, I had no time to play games with them. “Did I say anything wrong? Everyone knows how the Wayne family made their fortune these past few years. Don’t give me that ‘self-made’ nonsense. And you.” I pointed at Luke. “Now that you’re married, you won’t need my help anymore. Starting tomorrow, you don’t need to come to work. Go start your own business and conquer the world.” “I will sever all collaborations with the Wayne family. From now on, everything related to the Wayne family will be irrelevant to the Bloom Group.” “My surname is Bloom, as in Bloom Group, which the Wayne family is unworthy of reaching. Go ahead and enjoy your pumpkin.” Luke couldn’t sit still anymore. He abruptly stood up, his face full of menace. “Penelope! Are you sick? Do you really have to be so ruthless?! You just can’t stand to see me do well!” Daisy also stood up, twisting her body and reaching out to link arms with me, but I dodged her. She froze, tears immediately welling up. “Penelope, please don’t be so angry. I only suggested you find a boyfriend. Is there something I did wrong? I’ll kneel and apologize, okay?” I crossed my arms and nodded. “Your mere presence here is quite annoying.” She choked, probably not expecting me to be so blunt, but an act needs to be complete. She gritted her teeth, swayed, and was about to kneel, not forgetting to cast a significant glance at Luke. The next second, Luke, who had caught her eye, pulled her up, his face filled with concern. “Daisy, don’t listen to her nonsense. Everything will be ours. There’s no need to bow down to petty people.” Mom and Mr. Wayne also offered words of comfort, their voices filled with confidence. They were convinced I wouldn’t dare do such a thing; a woman inheriting a family fortune was useless and would definitely leave it to Luke. The family continued their blissful and harmonious sweet talk. I watched the drama unfold, feeling an urge to laugh. If I didn’t know the end of all these events, I might have even shed a few tears at this moment, attempting to blend into this “pumpkin” family. Now? I just wanted to scoff. I was curious to see whose money was harder—mine or Daisy’s head.

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The day my mom fell gravely ill, I found myself in the bed of Port City’s most formidable arms dealer. Feeling that terrifying heat, my face turned ghostly pale. The man, however, chuckled lightly, relentlessly pushing me to my limits until I was completely disoriented. He bent down and fiercely bit my earlobe, his voice hoarse, “Damn, your body truly is exquisite.” Utterly humiliated, I asked in a choked voice, “When will the money be transferred?” He lit a cigarette. “Next month.” An instant chill spread through me. I turned back, pleading desperately, “But you said it would be tomorrow. My mom won’t last until next month.” “Please.” Julian Walter slowly exhaled a smoke ring. “All the liquid funds went into preparing my wedding with Claire. Don’t keep using your mom as an excuse to hinder me. Don’t forget, you’re just a hidden mistress.” I didn’t tell him there wouldn’t be a next time. When I finally managed to drag myself to the hospital, my mother had already passed away. I calmly handled the funeral, then left Port City that very night. Later, I heard Julian Walter turned Port City upside down looking for a mistress. … I didn’t eat or drink, busy for two days straight, to finish my mother’s funeral. Once the tight tension in my nerves slackened, I couldn’t hold on anymore. In a daze, I felt someone enter. I desperately opened my eyes and saw Julian Walter’s icy cold gaze. He unhurriedly pushed away the hair sticking to my face, his voice colder than his eyes: “Selene Lane, play the sympathy card too often, and it loses its charm.” Sympathy card? He thought I was faking illness, trying to evoke his pity? I stared at him blankly, swallowing the bitterness in my heart: “No more. Never again.” My mom was dead. And the messy ledger between us, it was time to settle it. Julian didn’t think deeply about it. Hearing me being so sensible, he hooked his lips in satisfaction: “It’s good that you’ve come to your senses. For your mom, I’ll get top international doctors to take a look. But remember, don’t let this happen again.” What was this? A slap, then a sugar cube? If my mom were still alive, I would surely nod gratefully. But now, it was all too late. I struggled to force a smile: “No need. She… doesn’t need it anymore.” Julian paused, then, as if something dawned on him, his brows furrowed: “Didn’t you say she was critically ill? She recovered so quickly?” I knew he had misunderstood. I opened my mouth to explain, but I didn’t even have the strength to speak. Seeing my silence, he suddenly squeezed my chin, his voice chilling: “Selene Lane, have I never told you—behave yourself, don’t covet what isn’t yours. I can give you anything you want. Otherwise, I’ll make you realize the consequences of angering me.” I was too tired to even lift my eyelids, only nodding: “I haven’t forgotten.” He stared at me for a long while, his gaze scathing, then finally flung my hand away: “Good, you haven’t forgotten. Don’t do such stupid things again. Claire and I’s wedding is set; it’s not something a bastard child like you can interfere with.” I had never intended to sabotage their wedding. But even if I said it, he wouldn’t believe it. I simply closed my eyes, no longer looking at him, and unknowingly drifted back to sleep. My dreams were filled with my mom’s face and Julian Walter’s face. The first time I met Julian, he was the high and mighty young master of the Walter family, the most powerful underground arms dealer in Port City. And I was just an illegitimate daughter of the Lane family, kept out of sight. Claire Lane had always disliked me. Every time she saw me, she’d look for trouble. Once, I accidentally bumped into her. She grabbed my hair and shoved my head into a sink. If Julian hadn’t happened to pass by, I would have drowned that day. He saw me drenched, immediately took off his jacket, draped it over me, and had someone send me home. That one glance, I remembered for years. Later, my mom’s illness grew more severe, and medical expenses became exorbitant. Overwhelmed, I sought help from my nominal father. Mr. Lane, fearing his wife’s displeasure, secretly slipped me five thousand dollars, telling me not to come to him again. That paltry sum couldn’t even buy a box of imported medicine. On the most desperate night of my life, Julian Walter was drugged. He stumbled and dragged me into a lounge. I knew this was my only chance. Half-willingly, half-forced, I slept with him. After that, everyone called me shameless, said I was manipulative. But I didn’t care. What was face worth? What was my innocence worth? All I wanted was for my mom to live. Now Mom was dead, and everything should return to square one. In my sleep, a bucket of cold water was cruelly splashed on my face, instantly jolting me awake. Before I could react, my hair was yanked, followed by a stinging slap across my face. “Selene Lane, are you shameless? Julian and I are getting married, and you still dare to seduce him?” Claire Lane’s voice was piercingly sharp. “What do you think you are? He’s just playing with you. I’m his rightful fiancée.” She squeezed my chin, her nails digging into my flesh. “Today I’m going to scratch your face, let’s see what you’ll use to seduce men after this.” The pain made my vision blacken. I shoved her away. “I didn’t. Don’t spread malicious rumors.” Claire was pushed back a step. Once she regained her footing, she glared at me, gritting her teeth. “You didn’t? You’re just like your mother, both born with cheap bones. She shamelessly climbed into my father’s bed, and you’re even worse, stripping naked and lying in Julian Walter’s bed the moment you turned eighteen.” “My biggest regret is not holding you under the water in that sink back then.” She could curse me. But not my mom. My mom had kindly saved Mr. Lane’s life back then. How did he repay her? He forcibly took her while she was unconscious. He ruined my mom’s entire life, and even in death, she had to endure such insults from his daughter. I couldn’t swallow this insult. I abruptly grabbed a nearby rag and shoved it into her mouth. “Shut up. You have no right to talk about my mom.” Claire had never suffered such humiliation. She ripped out the rag, spat several times, and was so angry her pointing hand trembled. “Are you all dead? Hold her down for me. If I don’t strip a layer of her skin today, I’m not a Lane.” Two bodyguards stepped forward and pinned me to the ground. I tried to struggle, but she held my face in a death grip, saying words that sent a chill through my heart. “Tell me, if this pretty little face of yours is ruined, will Julian Walter even spare you a second glance?” My heart sank violently. I struggled even harder. “Claire Lane, you wouldn’t dare.” She sneered, took a folding knife from a nearby bodyguard, and patted my face with the blunt side of the blade. “Don’t worry, it won’t kill you. I recently found a tattoo design that’s quite pretty, and I just need a piece of skin to try it on. I think your face is perfect. Just don’t move around too much, because knives don’t have eyes.” The hatred in her eyes was almost tangible. Meeting her venomous gaze, I knew she was serious. Memories of childhood humiliation flooded back: being cornered in the bathroom and stripped, being held down by the pool and choked, being forced to kneel at the Lane family doorstep counting New Year’s money. As the knife in her hand was about to fall, I don’t know where I found the strength, but I broke free from the bodyguard, snatched the knife from her hand, and swung it back towards her face. In the nick of time, a large hand shot across, gripping my wrist with such force it felt like my bones would shatter. Claire’s eyes lit up when she saw Julian, and she pointed at me, accusing me first: “Julian, save me!” Julian pulled her into his arms, glanced down at her unharmed face, then looked up at me, his eyes as cold as knives. “Selene Lane, did you take everything I said as mere words?” My wrist throbbed from his grip. I opened my mouth to explain. “She started it. I was just—” Claire didn’t let me finish, burying her face in his chest, her voice trembling as if she had suffered a terrible injustice. “I just heard Selene was sick and came to see her. Who knew she was jealous that I was going to marry you, thought I’d stolen her place, so she… she tried to ruin my face with a knife.” I looked at her in disbelief, amazed she could twist black into white, and instinctively denied it. “I didn’t, she was trying to ruin my face.” Julian lifted his eyelids and glanced at me, his gaze completely devoid of warmth. “I saw it with my own eyes. What more do you have to explain?” He shielded Claire behind him, then turned his head to instruct the people behind him. “Those who do wrong should be punished. Take Selene Lane to the interrogation hall and give her thirty lashes.” I looked at him in disbelief. He actually didn’t believe me. The bodyguards dragged me to the interrogation hall. The whip in their hands landed with brutal force. The first strike made my vision whiten, and cold sweat streamed down my face. I looked up and saw Claire standing on the steps, a smile playing on her lips, her face full of triumph. I bit my lip hard, sweat plastering my hair to my face, looking utterly wretched. But even if it killed me, I refused to cry out in front of her, to give her the satisfaction. Two, three, five… Finally, I couldn’t hold back, a suppressed groan squeezed from my throat. Tears streamed down my face, I don’t know when they started. Just as I was about to pass out from the pain, Claire suddenly pointed at a dark red patch on the floor, her small face turning pale. “It’s blood—” Almost simultaneously, Julian Walter’s expression drastically changed as he rushed towards me. … I miscarried. I knew I had no right to have his child, so I had never stopped taking birth control pills. It was only when my mom was critically ill that I forgot for a while, and unexpectedly became pregnant. During that time, he only visited me once. I lay on the bed, my back wrapped in bandages, every movement a searing pain. He stood by the bed for a moment, said nothing, dropped a tube of ointment, and left. A few days later, I was finally able to get out of bed. I didn’t want to stay there a moment longer. I packed my belongings, preparing to leave Port City. Just as I pulled open the closet, the apartment door opened. Julian’s men stood at the door, saying it was the Walter family patriarch’s birthday that evening, and I was to go with them. I rejected it without thinking: “I’m not going.” The man looked troubled: “Miss Lane, please don’t make me fail my assignment.” Fine. They were just doing their jobs; no need to make things difficult for them. This was my first time stepping into the Walter family ancestral home. Before my feet were even steady, Claire approached. “Selene Lane, what are you doing here?” The moment she spoke, the surrounding socialites all crowded around, their gazes like knives, cutting me from head to toe. “Isn’t that the one Lord Walter keeps in Shallow Bay? She’s quite alluring, no wonder she managed to get into his bed.” “So what if she got into his bed? Claire is his proper fiancée. What is she? Just a worn-out plaything he’ll toss aside.” I knew it would be like this before I even came. Since childhood, Claire’s favorite thing to do was drag me in front of people, repeatedly reminding everyone that I was a hidden, illegitimate child. To humiliate me and make me unable to hold my head high. Seeing I didn’t respond, she suddenly leaned close to my ear, her voice very low, saying with schadenfreude: “By the way, your mother never knew about you being Julian Walter’s mistress, his other woman, did she?” My heart lurched. “What did you say?” She scanned me up and down, as if looking at a pile of trash. “I said, your mom died because you literally made her angry to death. How do you still have the nerve to be alive?” My mom’s biggest fear in life was me following in her footsteps. She always said that marrying a fishmonger, a mechanic, or a delivery driver was better than being a rich man’s mistress. So I had kept my relationship with Julian a secret from her for two years, not daring to mention a single word. I thought her condition had just worsened suddenly. I thought it was because I hadn’t managed to raise enough money for the surgery. —Turns out someone had gone to see her that day. Turns out she was literally angered to death. I looked at Claire’s triumphant face, and the thread of reason in my mind snapped with a loud crack. I grabbed her by the hair and slapped her across the face. “You killed her—I’m going to make you pay—” Julian Walter walked over with the family patriarch. Seeing this scene, his face instantly darkened. “Selene Lane, what are you doing?” When the bodyguards pulled us apart, I was still clutching a lock of her hair tightly. Claire covered her face, tears flowing like a burst dam. The surrounding socialites chattered. “Lord Walter, Selene Lane has gone mad. She just attacked Claire. We all saw it.” “Claire didn’t do anything. Selene just pounced on her like a mad dog. This kind of illegitimate daughter is just so low-class.” Claire sobbed breathlessly, leaning into her mother’s arms, as if she had suffered a monumental injustice. “Dad, Mom, I don’t know what I did wrong… She hit me in front of so many people. How will I ever face anyone again… What will outsiders think of you, what will they think of the Walter family…” The Walter family patriarch, seated at the head of the table, his face darkened. “Julian, your people. You handle it yourself.” Julian clenched his fist, glaring at me, his eyes so dark they seemed to drip with water. A girl in Chanel stepped forward, her voice clear. “Lord Walter, at last month’s chamber of commerce dinner, an unruly mistress offended the proper wife and was publicly stripped of her nails and locked in a cold room for three days. Although Port City doesn’t have old-fashioned family laws, our circle has its own rules.” After she spoke, several socialites exchanged glances and all looked at Julian in unison. Their gazes clearly awaited an explanation. Julian stared at me, enunciating each word. “Selene Lane, do you know what you’re doing?” I laughed. But as I laughed, tears streamed down my face uncontrollably. “What am I doing? I just wanted my mom to live well. What did I do wrong?” “The fault lies with her, and with you all.” His eyes instantly turned cold. “Stubborn and unyielding.” He turned his head and said to the person behind him. “Take her away. Deal with her as you see fit.” Claire leaned on her mother’s shoulder, a slow smile forming on her lips. I didn’t struggle. I was dragged into the underground storage room of the Walter family ancestral home. When the taser was pressed against my ribs, my whole body felt like it had been thrown into a boiling pot. They pinned me to a chair and drove bamboo splinters under my fingernails. One, two, three… The pain reached its peak and turned into numbness. I looked down at my hands, blood streaming down my wrists, dripping onto the concrete floor. In less than half an hour, I looked like I’d been pulled from water, sweat and tears plastered to my face. I wanted to scream, but couldn’t. I wanted to struggle, but couldn’t move. But the pain in my heart was a hundred, a thousand times worse than this. Claire had given instructions, making those seven days the longest week of my life. There were several times I thought I wouldn’t make it, my life flashing before my eyes. I dreamt my mom was still alive, sitting by the window of our old house, shelling beans. When she turned to look at me, her eyes were red. She didn’t scold me, only said, “Live well.” When I woke up, my pillow was soaked. On the seventh day, I was released. I leaned against the wall, walking out of the basement, the sunlight blinding my eyes. Julian Walter arrived a step too late. When he rushed into the empty storage room, there were only a few blood-stained cotton balls on the floor. “Where is she?” The steward, head bowed, dared not look at him. “Miss Lane… she left this morning.” Julian stood there, suddenly feeling an inexplicable panic. His face dark, he turned and rushed out of the ancestral home, driving straight to Shallow Bay. The apartment was empty. The closet was empty, the sink was empty, and the pot of pothos she had brought back from the flower market was also gone. She was covered in injuries; where could she go? He froze for a few seconds, then suddenly remembered something and yelled at his assistant: “Go get Selene Lane’s mother.” As long as her mother was in his hands, she would eventually come back. The assistant didn’t move, looking troubled. “Mr. Walter… Ms. Grays, she passed away two weeks ago.” “What did you say?” Julian’s mind felt like it had been punched. He grabbed the man’s collar, his hand trembling. “What do you mean, died? Explain yourself.” The assistant’s forehead was sweating, his voice tight. “Mr. Walter, I checked. Ms. Grays passed away over half a month ago, from sudden cardiac arrest. The funeral… was handled by Miss Lane alone.”

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As I washed my pregnant friend Summer’s feet, a post popped up on my phone. “What’s the most satisfying thing you’ve ever done in your life?” A recent comment underneath caught my eye. “I have this classmate and roommate I absolutely despise.” “She stole the man I had my eye on, and she took the scholarship that was rightfully mine.” “So, I slept with her husband, took her mansion, and even her son calls me Mommy in private.” “She thinks her husband went bankrupt and is working herself to death to pay off his debts, but all that money is going towards my designer bags.” “Oh, and by the way, she’s washing my feet right now.” I hadn’t really paid it much mind, but then I got up to dump the foot water, and the post updated again. “After she dumps the water, she’s going to make the bed.” “Last night, her husband and I explored quite a few positions on that very bed.” “It was such a thrill, knowing she was sleeping just next door.” I stood in front of the messy master bedroom bed, glancing at the cramped maid’s room across the hall. After a moment of silence, I found that long-forgotten number and dialed it. 1 The messy bed was neatly made, and the window was open, airing out the stale, putrid smell in the room. These tasks had become second nature to me. Because I don’t sleep well. That bed, he’d personally picked out for me from the furniture store. Now, it was where he indulged his affairs. No one would ever guess that the once-illustrious Mrs. Harrison was now working as a maid in her friend’s house. Those hands, once meticulously cared for and skilled at restoring ancient texts at the National Historical Museum, were now calloused and scarred. As usual, I prepared dinner for Summer and then asked for some time off. Summer wiped her mouth, feigning reluctance. “You know my husband, he’s terribly stingy. If you take time off now, you’ll lose a whole day’s pay.” “But we’ve been friends since childhood, so of course, I’ll put in a good word for you.” With that, she took out a takeout container. She packed up her leftover food and handed it to me. “Take this back for an extra meal, don’t let it go to waste.” The look in her eyes as she gazed at me was filled with mockery. But the old me, I never would have noticed. I would have been eternally grateful for her “care” after my supposed bankruptcy. I stared at the greasy leftovers in my hand, my lips pulling into a stiff, forced smile. My voice was dry, like sandpaper grating. “Thank you.” Stepping out of the familiar villa gates, the cold wind bit at my collar. This affluent neighborhood stretched on endlessly, and I had no car. I could only walk, step by painful step, my feet heavy. Once, I was the lady of this mansion, living a life of boundless luxury. After my husband’s supposed bankruptcy, the villa was bought by Summer, a friend who had returned from abroad. She and I were college roommates and always close. We’d kept in touch even after she moved overseas. Leveraging that connection, I quit my physically demanding job and became their maid. Though her never-seen husband was notoriously stingy and my wages were low, I was content. When Summer became pregnant, I dedicated myself even more fully to her every need—cooking, washing her feet, and assisting with her daily routines. For three long years, it wasn’t until today that I realized. This entire situation was nothing more than a carefully orchestrated deception, all aimed at me. An hour later, I finally managed to hail a cab and made my way to my son’s school. The dismissal bell rang. In the throng of parents, I spotted that familiar Bentley. Its champagne color glinted, a sharp, unwelcome sight. This car was the engagement gift my husband, Drake, had given me, my absolute favorite. But after his bankruptcy, I had tearfully sold it to help pay off his debts. Now, it was here. Drake stepped out of the car, dressed in a sharp suit, radiating an air of success. He looked like a completely different man from the one at home, who dressed plainly and constantly worried about money. My son, Finn, rushed over and hugged his leg. “Daddy, can we go play at Summer’s today?” Drake bent down, ruffling his hair. “Today we’re going home to be with Mommy.” But my child, whom I had carried for nine months and brought into the world at great risk, pouted. “I don’t want to go home.” “Summer’s house is my home. She’s pretty and smells nice.” “Mommy smells of cooking oil, she’s stinky, I don’t like her.” My breath hitched, and my blood felt like it had frozen in my veins. So, my beloved husband had been faking his poverty all along. And the child I had poured my heart and soul into raising was lying to me. All my sacrifices for this family, in their eyes, were no more than stale leftovers. A bitter joke. I stood rooted to the spot, watching them drive away. My phone chimed—the special ringtone I’d set for Drake. “I’m working late tonight. I’ve picked up Finn. You’ve had a tough day, get some good rest.” The Bentley’s taillights vanished around the corner, and I sank to the ground, my heart aching. My fingers clenched, nails digging into my palms, drawing blood. It didn’t hurt. Not nearly as much as the torment I’d endured these past three years. 2 After he announced his bankruptcy, I decided to go out and work to help pay off his debts. The factory assembly line, twelve hours of non-stop work. Amidst the roar of machinery, my once soft palms became red and swollen. In just three months, my joints began to deform. Bending them felt like rusty hinges, the pain so intense it kept me awake all night. But one salary couldn’t even begin to cover the massive debts my husband owed. In the evenings, I’d also set up a stall at the night market, selling clothes. The winter wind was like a knife, chilling me to the bone. To sell more clothes, I’d stay out until the early hours of the morning, night after night. One day, six months later, I looked in the mirror and realized the person staring back was no longer the familiar me. My eyes were shadowed with dark circles, my hair was disheveled, and my skin was rough and dull. The cramped apartment was so small, there was barely room to turn around. The cooking fumes never dissipated, giving me a persistent pharyngitis. Every change of season, I’d cough until I felt like my lungs would tear. Back then, my son would feel for my efforts. “Mommy, don’t work so hard. I won’t drink milk anymore.” “Mommy, once Daddy’s business gets better, you can rest.” “Mommy, you’re my favorite person in the whole world.” I genuinely believed life would gradually improve. I believed Drake was the partner who would shield me from life’s storms. I believed Finn was the precious child who would always love and care for me. But today, I finally discovered. Every hardship I had endured, they had orchestrated. I returned to the villa district, standing in the shadow of the outer wall. The lights inside the house were glaringly bright. Through the glass windows, I saw the three of them, looking more like a family than ever. Summer leaned against Drake’s shoulder, her eyes crinkling with laughter. Drake carefully caressed her slightly swollen belly, feeding her bright red strawberries. His movements were tender, almost dripping with affection. Finn sat beside them, playing with a limited-edition toy car. Their voices drifted faintly. “Daddy, will Summer have a baby brother or sister for me?” His eyes sparkled. Drake ruffled his hair. “Either is fine, you’ll all play together, okay?” Summer smiled, handing him a glass of juice. “Will you protect them both when they’re here?” “Yes!” I bit down hard on my lip, the metallic taste of blood spreading in my mouth. Their words were like steel needles, piercing my heart. But I couldn’t understand why they, father and son, would do this to me! Back then, Drake was just a poor boy. We met, fell in love, and grew together in college. After graduation, he came to ask for my hand, only to face my father’s fierce opposition. My father tried to pay him off, to make him leave me. A wad of cash, like a slap across his face. He, in his faded, threadbare shirt, clenched his fists, knuckles white, and turned to leave. I cried, chasing after him. That night, in a dimly lit room, we lay naked together, and he promised me. “One day, I’ll make your father look at me differently.” I believed him. Defying my family’s objections, I resolutely married Drake. I poured all my savings into his business, helping him climb to the peak of success, step by step. But now, it all felt like a cruel joke. Their laughter and joy were a mockery. A mockery of my foolishness. A mockery of my sacrifices. A mockery of my life, which had been a complete farce from beginning to end. 3 After standing in the cold wind for half the night, I developed a fever. Drake returned with Finn and found me curled up in a ball on the bed. Ignoring my sweat-soaked state, he pulled me into his arms. “Lynn, what’s wrong?” “I’m taking you to the hospital.” His voice, trembling with alarm, didn’t sound fake. But why would he do this to me? I shook my head, pushing away the man who had betrayed me. I looked at Finn, who stood behind Drake. I reached out my arm to him, hoping for a comforting hug. “Finn, Mommy’s tired.” I refused to believe that the child I had raised would treat his own mother this way. But he flinched, pulling back abruptly. My hand froze in mid-air. This was the child I had sacrificed my own meals for, to ensure he had milk. The child I worried about while shivering at the night market. My heart felt like it was being squeezed by an invisible hand, a pain beyond words. Drake gently tucked my hand back under the covers. “If you’re tired, rest properly. Don’t worry about the kids.” His palm was warm, but I felt a chilling cold. Looking at the false tenderness in his eyes, I inexplicably blurted out. “Finn, if Daddy and I ever split up, who would you want to live with?” Finn and Drake both stared at me, their eyes wide with shock. They didn’t understand why I was asking. But Finn didn’t hesitate to answer. “Daddy!” “Daddy’s so successful, he can get me a big house.” “Mommy just cleans and cooks at home, and she smells awful.” Tears instantly welled up in my eyes, soaking Drake’s pants as they streamed down my face. He held me tightly, comforting me with a smile. “The kid’s still small, don’t take what he says seriously.” “We’ll never split up, don’t ask such silly questions again.” His embrace, once my safe harbor, now felt like a noose around my neck. In the middle of the night, I woke up thirsty and heard hushed voices outside the door. “Summer is just an outsider, Mommy is your family.” “How could you say that about Mommy?” I lay on the cold bed, silently weeping. So, he knew we were a family all along. But I didn’t want this family anymore. The next day, I went to work at the villa as usual. I installed surveillance cameras in inconspicuous corners throughout the house. Late that night, Drake still hadn’t come home. After tucking Finn into bed, I opened the monitoring app on my phone. The villa lights were still glaringly bright. Summer leaned against Drake’s chest, her fingers tracing patterns on his muscular torso. “When are you going to tell her the truth?” Drake, cigarette dangling from his lips, paused. His voice was low. “The day after tomorrow is her birthday. I’ll tell her the truth then.” “It’ll be her birthday surprise.” “She’s suffered enough these past few years, and I’ve had my satisfaction.” “I’ll give her back the company and the house, and then give her a grand wedding.” Summer’s eyes showed a flicker of something ugly. “I get it, she sacrificed a lot for you back then. I understand your love for her.” “But I love you too, and I don’t mind being your secret lover forever.” Her slender nails traced across Drake’s bare chest, her voice incredibly soft. “As long as I can stay by your side.” But Drake abruptly pushed her away. “You and I are just a temporary distraction.” “Once the baby is born, I’ll find a reason to bring her home, and Lynn will raise her.” “As for you, I’ll give you a sum of money, and you are never to appear before us again.” “Remember your place.”

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The Princess of Capital Society was a complete love-struck fool. To elope with a poor student. She slashed my face and threatened me with my parents’ lives: “As long as you get plastic surgery to look like me and marry the Capital Scion in my place, I’ll spare your parents.” As I desperately resisted, bullet comments suddenly floated across my vision: [Princess Sweetheart is so naive! She and the poor student will encounter a tsunami during their elopement. Not only will the princess be utterly lost, but she’ll also lose her protagonist status!] [The Capital Scion is the real male lead, but the princess is choosing this poor student side character.] [What a lucky break for this passerby whose face got slashed. If she agrees to the surgery, she can replace the princess and marry into a wealthy family for a good life!] I clutched my bloody, mangled face and made an immediate decision: “Take me to get the surgery now. I promise to imitate you perfectly, ensuring no one sees through the disguise.” Since she was handing me immense wealth on a silver platter. Then I wouldn’t be polite. … My words made the bullet comments explode: [No way, is this passerby named Fiona really that bold? She’s actually daring to replace the princess in an arranged marriage?] [If anyone finds out Fiona is an impostor with plastic surgery, their whole family will surely die horribly.] Well then, I’d just have to work hard to ensure no one discovered my deception. I asked the princess, Stella Song: “Just plastic surgery won’t be enough. What if someone finds out I’m a fake and drags you back?” As Stella frowned, I seized the opportunity to suggest: “How about you train me properly? Teach me your mannerisms, your fashion style, familiarize me with your hobbies, friends, and family, and so on.” “As long as you can make me imitate you flawlessly, 360 degrees, it’ll be foolproof.” Stella immediately agreed: “Let’s do as you say. There are still three months until the arranged marriage, so while you’re recovering from surgery, I can properly train you.” Once my objective was achieved, she unlocked the chains on my parents: “Fiona, if you had agreed earlier, your family wouldn’t have had to suffer so much.” At this point, my parents were covered in blood and barely clinging to life. Yet, they continued to beg Stella: “Spare Fiona, please…” Stella kicked them disdainfully: “It’s a blessing for low-class people like you that I chose Fiona as my stand-in. You should be thanking me.” I knelt beside my parents, a fierce hatred surging within me. Just because my eyes, height, and voice bore an eighty percent resemblance to Stella. Stella had mercilessly targeted me. My family was dirt poor. My parents had no relatives and raised me by scavenging. Stella wanting to torment us was easier than crushing an ant. Thankfully, these bullet comments appeared. They made me change my mind in time, saving my parents’ lives. As I lay on the operating table, The bullet comments were still wailing: [Can the princess hurry up and come to her senses? The Capital Scion is a rich, handsome, powerful CEO! I don’t want to see Fiona snatching this opportunity!] A rich, handsome, powerful CEO? That’s perfect. I endured the excruciating pain of bone shaving and flesh grinding, closing my eyes in anticipation. From this moment on, I would no longer be the pitiful Fiona. I would replace the love-struck Stella Song and become the true Princess of Capital Society. The Capital Scion she didn’t want to marry, I would. The good life she refused, I would live in her stead! The next day, Stella began an intense training regimen for me. “I was on the racetrack at eighteen. You need to get your driver’s license now, then spend three hours every day practicing your driving skills.” “Your country accent is absolutely dreadful. Hurry up and perfect your standard English and common language. If you embarrass my father in a big setting, I’ll kill you!” “Do you understand dining etiquette? Do you understand the rules of high society? Have you never had a manicure?” As Stella lectured, she started losing her temper: “I’m very particular about everything—food, clothing, housing, travel. You reek of poverty; how could you possibly imitate me?” I humbly placated Stella: “I can do it! Even if I don’t sleep, I’ll study diligently according to your demands.” I knew the gap between Stella and me was vast. But I wasn’t afraid. I forced myself to sleep only two hours a day. Besides practicing driving and standard English, I started learning English and financial knowledge from scratch. I also devoured fashion magazines, memorized all the designer brands, and followed online videos to learn etiquette. With immense willpower and determination. A month later. I successfully got my driver’s license, my standard English became fluent, and the timidity in my eyes diminished considerably. Stella was very pleased with this: “I didn’t expect you to be so serious. Let’s move on to the next stage.” She brought stacks of documents and photos: “This is my family’s lineage. You must recognize all these relatives. They’ll give me big red envelopes during holidays. If you mistake anyone, you’re dead.” “These are important business partners of the Song family. You need to flatter all of them perfectly, or my parents will be unhappy.” “These are the details and background of my fiancé. Study them carefully and handle him for me.” I stared at the photo of the Capital Scion, Arthur Verdi, setting a goal for myself. As long as I secured this man and bore him a few children. Even if someone discovered my true identity in the future. With the children as my trump card, I could at least ensure my life and my parents’ lives. As for my parents, they hadn’t received any medical treatment since they were beaten last time. Stella kept a close watch on me, not allowing me to care for them at all. I could only occasionally sneak back to bring them some medicine and food. “Don’t worry, once I become Stella Song, I’ll make sure you live a good life.” For my sake and my parents’. I was incredibly motivated, wishing I could utilize every hour of the day. As the scabs on my face gradually fell off, The poor student couldn’t help but worry: “Fiona looks too much like you after the surgery. What if she takes advantage and replaces you, stealing your assets?” The bullet comments were also anxious: [Side character, hurry and warn the princess! This Fiona looks malicious; her diligence clearly shows she wants to take over!] [Can someone tell the princess she’s going to die in a tsunami? I’m practically dying of anxiety!] Stella was unconcerned: “Can’t I handle a trash picker? Don’t worry, I have a plan.” She grabbed my neck, her voice sinister: “I’m giving you an account number. Once you’re in my family, all the money and wedding dowry my family gives you, you must transfer to me.” “If I find out you’re pocketing my money, I’ll immediately return, expose your identity, and make sure your entire family dies a miserable death!” With that, she pushed me away and, linking arms with the poor student, smiled sweetly: “From now on, the trash picker will continuously send us money. We can travel the world and be happy together!” I feigned agreement. But inwardly, I couldn’t stop sneering. If Stella knew she would soon die, and I would completely replace her… I wonder if she would still be smiling? Soon, as all my surgery wounds healed. My every word and action took on the air of a wealthy young lady. I learned skincare and makeup, learned how to dress fashionably, and how to put on airs and act spoiled. I could recognize every relative and friend around Stella. I knew the company’s executives and subordinates even better than Stella did. At this point, the wedding date was approaching rapidly. Stella couldn’t wait to put me into practice: “Tonight, my family is formally meeting the Verdi family to discuss the wedding. You’d better perform well!” The bullet comments were still clinging to hope: [I hope Fiona makes a ton of mistakes tonight and gets exposed as a fake. That way, our princess still has a chance.] [Fiona still has poverty etched into her bones. Arthur Verdi will definitely notice it. I’m waiting to see Fiona make a fool of herself.] The bullet comments weren’t optimistic about me. But I proved them wrong. From driving home and playfully charming Mr. and Mrs. Song, to helping myself and Mrs. Song choose dresses and makeup… Throughout the entire process. No one in the Song family questioned my authenticity. If I could pass the Song family’s test, I had even less to worry about with the Verdi family. Before leaving, Mrs. Song asked me, worriedly: “Daughter, have you completely broken up with that poor student?” “You were throwing tantrums about canceling the engagement before, and now you’re suddenly so cooperative. Are you plotting something again?” I imitated Stella’s tone, lifting my chin haughtily: “Mom, can’t you have a little faith in me? No matter how much I act out, I know how to handle important matters. I wouldn’t die of anger over some poor student, would I?” “Besides, Arthur Verdi’s looks are pleasing to my eye, so marrying him won’t be a loss for me.” My sweet, coquettish, and clever demeanor would make the real Stella Song bow in defeat. It brought a relieved smile to Mrs. Song’s face. “You truly are my good daughter. Here’s five million; go buy yourself a new car.” As soon as the money hit my account, I transferred it to Stella. Stella expressed her satisfaction and told me to perform well that night. When I sat down at the dinner table, Knowing Arthur Verdi was constantly observing me, I deliberately acted indifferent to him. During the meal, I was extra careful, avoiding all the foods Stella wouldn’t touch. It wasn’t until the conversation turned to the wedding budget that Arthur Verdi initiated a conversation with me: “My current budget is eighty million. Ms. Song, do you have any thoughts on this?” I sneered, a disdainful curl to my lips: “Eighty million to buy off a beggar? I spend more than eighty million on fireworks. If you want to marry me, please show the highest level of sincerity.” My arrogant, overbearing demeanor, as expected, made Arthur Verdi narrow his eyes in appreciation: “Alright, then I’ll plan the wedding with a budget of five hundred million, with no upper limit.” I slammed my hand on the table petulantly: “Sit closer, how are we supposed to discuss details from so far away?” “I want the best designer to create my wedding gown; I won’t wear it unless it’s fully encrusted with diamonds.” Arthur Verdi smiled knowingly and moved to sit beside me. The bullet comments gasped: [Fiona really imitated her to perfection! Neither the Song family nor the Verdi family noticed Fiona was a fake. What if she really marries Arthur Verdi?] [Can the princess please punish Fiona properly? I think this ugly duckling genuinely wants to snag Arthur Verdi.] The Verdi family was extremely pleased with me, immediately transferring an advance payment of ten million for the dowry. As soon as the meeting ended, I transferred the money to Stella. “Fiona, you did quite well tonight. It was practically indistinguishable from the real thing.” I thought Stella had lowered her guard. But then her face suddenly changed, and she slapped me hard: “Remember your place. A fake is a fake; it can’t become real.” “Your purpose in living is to marry in my stead, and then transfer money to me to save your parents’ pathetic lives.” With that, She actually dragged my parents out again. In front of me, she brutally broke one of my father’s legs: “If I find out you’re trying to replace me, I’ll cripple the remaining three limbs of your parents!” Amidst my parents’ screams, I wiped away my tears and, humiliated, bowed my head to her: “I’ll do whatever you ask. I will never covet what doesn’t belong to me.” Stella threw her identification documents at me, then took mine, and began preparing her elopement plan. Through the bullet comments, I learned that she and the poor student had arranged a smuggler’s boat and secured a house abroad. Meanwhile, following Stella’s instructions, I converted her valuable bags and jewelry into cash and transferred it all to her account. During this time, I also relentlessly paved my own way. Whenever I returned to the Song family residence, I would secretly collect strands of Stella’s hair, for future unforeseen needs. The bullet comments grew more anxious: [The more I look at this Fiona, the less she seems like a good person. I feel like the princess is raising a tiger.] [If only the princess had checked the weather forecast before setting her itinerary, she could have avoided the tsunami!] I counted down the days to the elopement, my heart pounding with excitement. As soon as Stella got on the boat and died in the tsunami, I would no longer have to live in constant fear. I seized every opportunity to get close to Arthur Verdi. However, Arthur Verdi was an inscrutable man. One day, he even said to me: “Ms. Song, you’re not quite what I imagined.” I used coquetry to mask my panic, asking him what he meant by that. “From my investigation, you were once madly in love with a poor student, even considering breaking off our engagement for him.” “What changed your mind and made you agree to marry me?” I scoffed, feigning disgust: “Can we please not bring up that destitute ex-boyfriend? How unlucky! Or do you have a cuckold fetish?” Arthur Verdi stared at me meaningfully: “Since you despise your ex-boyfriend so much, I’ll keep an eye on him for you, ensuring he never bothers you again.” I suppressed my inner panic, simply assuming Arthur Verdi was joking. In our subsequent interactions, I occasionally brought up the poor student, just to prevent Arthur Verdi from becoming suspicious. After a few more agonizing days, it was finally the day of Stella’s elopement. As planned, I stayed at Arthur Verdi’s place that night. I intended to take advantage of the situation to seal our relationship, while the bullet comments were live-streaming the elopement process. [It makes me so angry to see Fiona kissing and hugging Arthur Verdi! She’s here with a rich, handsome guy, while the real princess can only secretly elope by boat.] [Sigh, the princess has finally boarded the boat of no return. The tsunami is approaching, and my protagonist is just… gone…] Seeing the bullet comments announce that Stella’s boat had set sail, The huge rock in my heart finally settled. After tonight, I would be the real Stella Song! No one would ever harm my family again, and I wouldn’t have to be anyone’s dog anymore. Only endless wealth and glory awaited me in the future. I suppressed my inner excitement, about to continue my intimacy with Arthur Verdi. Suddenly, his assistant frantically knocked on the door: “Mr. Verdi, it’s bad! That poor student eloped with Stella Song! Someone saw them boarding a ship bound for overseas!” My body stiffened, and I completely lost my composure. I had calculated a thousand things, but I never accounted for this. Arthur Verdi wasn’t joking; he really was watching that poor student! If Arthur Verdi decided to dig deeper, I would definitely be exposed! By then, not only would all my efforts be in vain, But our family of three would also face a gruesome end… Just as I was in a state of frantic panic, Arthur Verdi looked at me, confused, then opened the door to question his assistant: “Are you sure that the woman who eloped is my fiancée, Stella Song?” “Yes! I received photos!” Arthur Verdi took the phone, and his expression instantly froze. The next second, he fiercely gripped my hand: “If that woman who eloped is Stella Song, then who are you?” My heart leaped into my throat. At the same time, bullet comments scrolled wildly before my eyes.

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After a massive fight with Wesley, I started to keep my distance from him. He asked me, his voice cold, “Didn’t you know I loved her before you married me?” From that day on, I stopped being jealous. I didn’t ask about him and Sienna checking into hotels late at night. When rumors spread in the alumni chat that he and Sienna had rekindled their old flame, I simply replied with a “Congrats!” Now, he sat beside me, panic in his eyes. His knuckles, gripping the steering wheel, were white. He slammed on the brakes. 1. Half a month ago, Sienna returned to the country. News spread that she was on a hiking trip, got trapped on a snowy mountain. Wesley rushed to the snowy mountain overnight, spending a million dollars to hire a professional mountain rescue team. I woke up to find a photo of him and Sienna trending online. Gossip accounts gushed about his and Sienna’s romance. “Turns out, there really is a love story like those in novels—a reunion after a long separation, a broken mirror made whole again.” “A certain CEO spent millions rescuing his first love, who was trapped on a snowy mountain. And the key is, he and his first love both look like they walked straight out of a novel.” The accompanying image was of Wesley carrying Sienna in his arms. Under the moonlight, his chiseled face was bathed in a soft glow. His expression was calm, his eyes deep. The woman in his arms clung to his neck. The picture was incredibly atmospheric, like the final scene of a movie. In our school days, Wesley and Sienna were a match made in heaven. Their grades and looks were equally impressive. I sat cross-legged on my bed, staring blankly. So, Wesley’s overnight absence was to find Sienna. I’d called him three times, but they all went to voicemail. After getting ready, I drove to the TV station for work. Sienna being trapped on the snowy mountain became a major news story. My boss assigned our team to do a report on people getting trapped on snowy mountains while hiking. I planned to focus on safety tips for hikers, while a colleague from another team wanted to dig into the gossip of Wesley and Sienna’s romance. My colleagues were discussing it. “This is truly a novel brought to life, isn’t it? Guess what I found out?” “They dated in high school and only broke up in their senior year of college.” “I’ve already contacted their high school and college classmates.” Suddenly, a colleague mentioned me. “Lynn, I remember you also graduated from Capital High and Capital University, and I think you were in the same year as them.” “Did you hear any stories about them from that year?” My body tensed, and I forced a smile. “No.” Of course, I had heard. I had a crush on Wesley from high school through college, and then we married. I knew about his and Sienna’s relationship better than anyone. My colleagues’ voices buzzed in my ears. “This story could really be turned into a novel.” “Such a perfect match, handsome guy and beautiful girl.” It wasn’t until a colleague next to me reminded me that I realized I hadn’t even drafted a single line of copy all morning. After work, I walked out of the TV station. I received a call. “Lynn, Ms. Chen wants our department to contact Sienna.” I felt a bit resistant. Interviewing my husband’s ex-girlfriend felt far too awkward. I tried to decline, but couldn’t. “Anna, how about I stay behind the scenes this time? I’ll handle a different segment.” “You guys go do the interview.” Anna readily agreed. “Okay, I’ll go for the interview tomorrow.” “But I can’t drive, can you give me a ride?” I said, “Sure.” I drove home. Wesley still wasn’t back. 2. The next day, Anna and I went to the hospital where Sienna was staying. We also had to interview other injured members of the hiking group. I waited in the car for Anna. Anna called me, “Lynn, I forgot my laptop.” “Can you bring it up for me?” “It’s in your car.” I looked around and found it on the back seat. I grabbed the laptop and hurried up in the elevator. Anna messaged me. “Lynn, we’re on the sixth floor.” “In room 605.” I got to the sixth floor. As I walked towards room 605, I inexplicably stopped. Through the clear glass, I saw Wesley and Sienna. Wesley stood up, and Sienna hugged him. She carefully stood on tiptoes. “Wesley, is there still a chance for us?” Wesley froze, his eyes swirling with emotion, his eyelashes fluttering slightly. Sienna took advantage of his distraction, leaning in, about to kiss him. His gaze was filled with a careful tenderness as he looked at the woman before him. Wesley closed his eyes. “Lynn, over here.” My colleague called out to me. Suddenly, Wesley’s eyes snapped open, and he pushed Sienna away. Both people in the hospital room looked towards me, standing outside the door. Wesley and I exchanged a look. I clutched the laptop and trotted over. Anna said to me, “Sigh.” “The big boss is too protective of his wife; he won’t let us interview her.” “After all, someone who can spend millions to rescue his first love wouldn’t easily make a public appearance.” “We’ll just have to interview others.” I was a bit distracted, vaguely replying, “Oh, okay.” I helped Anna finish interviewing all the members of the hiking group. The members were all complaining, “We paid so much money, and because of the guide’s mistake, we almost lost our lives.” “You’re reporters, can you help us sue this guide?” I reassured them, “We’re reporters, we can only help you get your voices heard.” “As for the guide, you’ll need to find a lawyer for that.” Back at the TV station, I sat down at my desk. In my mind, I replayed the scene of Wesley almost kissing Sienna. I had imagined many scenarios of confrontation, but never this. Wesley returned and appeared before me. I desperately tried to control my emotions. My eyes were misting. “Wesley, don’t you need to explain what’s going on with you and Sienna?” He took off his wool coat, preparing to head to the bathroom. He let out a low laugh, tinged with a hint of mockery. “Lynn, using your position to spread rumors—is that your purpose as a journalist?” I didn’t know what he was talking about. “Wesley, what do you mean?” “I just want you to explain yourself to me.” Wesley stared directly at me, his expression cold. “Spreading rumors that she’s a homewrecker, this report was written by you, wasn’t it?” “I’ve already had all the trending topics removed.” “Lynn, don’t let me see your TV station report anything related to her again.” “If everyone in your department wants to be fired, then prepare to pack your bags and leave.” I hadn’t written any report about her. But Wesley’s defense of Sienna and his accusations made me uncomfortable and hurt. I retorted, “Wesley.” “I’m your wife.” He tilted his head slightly, his eyes distant. His tone was flat, casually aloof. “Lynn.” “You’ve had a crush on me for a long time. You already knew she was my ex-girlfriend; you should be very clear about our relationship.” “Before you married me, didn’t you know I loved her?” I froze, trying to speak several times but unable to form words. My eyes slowly reddened, welling up with tears. 3. I knew he loved Sienna. Throughout high school, I was always a peripheral student. Sienna was the beautiful, bright class president. He excelled academically and came from a good family. It was no surprise that Wesley and Sienna became a couple. In our senior year of high school, our homeroom teacher and head of year even praised them as the most outstanding students. Everyone expected the top scholar to be Wesley or Sienna. To everyone’s surprise, that year’s top scholar was me. When it was announced that I was the top scholar, the graduation class gathering buzzed with excitement. I attended the reunion filled with anticipation, only to learn that Wesley and Sienna had gone on a trip. Our homeroom teacher teased him, “Wesley, Sienna.” “Don’t forget to invite me to your wedding when you graduate.” Wesley, barely sixteen or seventeen, could converse effortlessly with adults. “No problem, Mr. Davies.” “We’ll give you a seat at the main table.” I was disheartened for a long time. He and Sienna were together. I thought that by becoming the top scholar of our year, I could finally catch his attention. In college, Wesley majored in Computer Science. Sienna studied Law. They went from high school to college, inseparable for all four years of university. When Wesley didn’t have classes, he would often walk Sienna to her law school lectures. The Capital University campus bulletin board had a post. It featured a photo of Wesley, dressed in a white shirt and black pants, radiating youthful ambition. He was tall and lean, leaning against a tree outside the girls’ dormitory. “Seeking info on this guy. I’ve been watching him for ages, he’s so handsome. Does anyone know him or have his contact info?” Someone replied to the poster. “Don’t bother asking, he’s taken.” “He’s waiting for his girlfriend downstairs at the dorm.” “He and his girlfriend have been together since high school. Give up, there’s no chance.” “Wow, he’s like a devoted statue waiting for his wife. Such a passionate guy.” In the first semester of senior year, Sienna chose to sacrifice their love to study abroad. Young and headstrong, neither would back down, and they broke up. I was surprised when I learned of their breakup. For years, everyone thought they would end up together. By the time we graduated college, Sienna had been abroad for quite a while. That day, I was at a class reunion at a bar. Wesley was there too. He knew some students from our department; he’d been brought by a friend. I secretly glanced at him several times. After the party, he walked towards me. I thought my secret crush hadn’t been so secret; he knew now. During my four years of college, after learning about his relationship with Sienna, I rarely followed his news. I thought I shouldn’t like him anymore. Until we met again, and I found my heart still fluttered for him. He raised an eyebrow, saying without reservation, “You like me?” “Let’s exchange contact info.” At that moment, I felt like a floating balloon, my heart soaring. It wasn’t until we got married that I learned he had added me because he lost a game of truth or dare. When Wesley said those words, my mind went blank. “Didn’t you know I loved her before you married me?” His words echoed in my mind. He looked at me, his expression calm. My nose stung. “Okay, Wesley.” “I will interfere in your and Sienna’s affairs.” Wesley knew I liked him, yet he didn’t hesitate to use my crush to hurt me. His shoulder stiffened imperceptibly, and he picked up his pajamas, heading to the bathroom. This was the most serious argument Wesley and I had had in our two years of marriage. Usually, he was aloof and indifferent, so we barely ever fought. We would both concede to each other. I had dreamed of marrying Wesley, the object of my secret crush, throughout my youth, and I actually did. But married life was nothing like I had imagined. He didn’t love me; he married me only as a compromise with his family and on a momentary impulse. After the fight, our relationship remained as usual, neither warm nor cold. 4. I started to examine our relationship and came to a conclusion: we weren’t a good match. After I decided to let go of him, I found our interactions became much easier. I no longer bothered preparing dinner. I left the cooking to Mrs. Chen, our housekeeper. Nor did I leave a light on when he worked late or had business dinners. That night, he came home late. I didn’t pay attention to his work hours; I was in my study, dealing with my own work. Until he made a noise, pushing open the study door. His tightly furrowed brow relaxed. “Is there any porridge?” When he had late business dinners, I used to cook him a bowl of preserved egg and lean pork porridge, or noodles. I shook my head. “No.” Hearing that answer, he visibly paused, a little unaccustomed to it. “Is there anything else to eat at home?” I said, “No.” He usually had lunch prepared by his assistant at the office, and I ate lunch near the TV station. He often didn’t come home for dinner. So, there was hardly any food in the fridge. He nodded and turned to head to the bathroom. My relationship with Wesley slowly faded; to be precise, I had always been the one initiating contact. Once I stopped, there was hardly any connection between us. The last chat we had was a week before our argument, when I shared that my colleagues and I had found a great restaurant. I told him we should go together next time, and he replied he’d see if he had time. On Friday night, my colleagues and I at the TV station worked until 1 AM, then went to a nearby street for a late-night meal. One female boss’s husband called to pick her up. Anna proactively called her boyfriend, whose first words were, “Baby, send me your location.” “I’m already dressed and ready to go.” My colleagues around us teased, and Anna’s face flushed. “No, wait a bit.” “A few colleagues and Lynn and I are going for a gathering.” We ate hot pot. Afterward, the female boss’s husband picked her up with their child. Anna’s boyfriend held two cups of bubble tea. “They’re hot. You said this afternoon you wanted bubble tea. I bought them a while ago, didn’t expect you to be working late tonight.” I greeted Anna’s boyfriend. Anna handed me the other bubble tea. “Lynn, here, drink this.” I took the bubble tea, smiling, “Thanks.” Next to the hot pot restaurant was a five-star hotel. Looking up, I saw Wesley. He stood out too much, and with Sienna, he looked even more striking. Under the night sky, a man and a woman emerged from the hotel. I stood frozen.

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At eighteen, Mike stormed into my home and shot my stepfather ten times. As police dragged him away, bloodied, he grinned at my shocked face. “Rachel, don’t be afraid. No monster will ever hurt you in the name of family again.” After prison, he found me scavenging through trash, bullied by thugs. His fists tightened. He took me to the city’s underbelly, where we knelt, and he rebuilt himself into the feared King of the Docks. On our wedding day, he casually gifted me the entire Copperfield district as a dowry, declaring to all that I, Rachel Vance, was his life. But at twenty-eight, he was drugged during a deal and spent a night with another woman. Clutching divorce papers, I was intercepted by him and his men before reaching the lawyer. He loaded a pistol, pressed it to his own heart, and vowed, “Rachel, I’d rather die than lose you.” Unable to bear it, I relented. Later, I saw Mike with that woman—her belly rounded—shopping in an upscale baby store. The powerful man knelt before me, eyes red, explaining, “Lila is your father’s illegitimate daughter. He’s badly injured overseas; only she can bring him back. I swear, once I deal with that beast, I’ll send her away.” Swallowing the pain, I believed him again. Until this time, with one call, he diverted the heart my mother had waited ten years for. 1. I stormed into Lila’s VIP hospital room, ignoring the room full of dark-suited bodyguards and doctors. I raised my hand and slapped Mike hard across the face. He turned his head, his tongue tracing his bleeding lip. When he turned back, there was no anger in his eyes, only a complex look as he explained, “Lila was shot in the chest trying to save me. I couldn’t just leave her to die.” I gave a cold laugh and turned to leave. I used a secret way to arrange for my mother’s transfer to a hospital abroad. Then I found a lawyer to draft divorce papers and went to find Lila alone. “We’re both women, I know exactly what you want.” Lila’s eyes darted away. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” “Mike wasn’t wearing his bulletproof vest that day. Where was it? Don’t tell me you don’t know.” Lila’s hands clenched, her knuckles white. “I don’t want to be part of your game anymore,” I said, handing her the divorce papers. “If I give these to him personally, he won’t sign them. You figure out a way to get him to sign without knowing.” Lila pursed her lips. “You’ve misunderstood. I never intended to ruin your marriage.” “This is your only chance,” I said coldly. “Think carefully.” Lila stared at the agreement for a long time before finally taking it. “Thank you, Rachel, for making our little family whole.” A family of three? My heart felt like it had been violently ripped out. “Then I wish you… a happy and complete family.” “And don’t call me Rachel. I find it sickening.” I couldn’t bring myself to forgive Mike and Lila. The only thing I could do was to tear Mike out of my very being. Returning to the castle Mike had spent billions building for me, I began to pack away the gifts he had given me over the years, one by one, into cardboard boxes. When I was ten, he drew a castle, two adults, and a child on a blank piece of paper, saying, “This will be our family portrait one day.” When I was eighteen, covered in blood, he placed eighteen blood-stained bullet casings in my palm. “From now on, you are the freest Rachel Vance.” When I was twenty-five, he controlled the entire underworld empire of the Docks and couldn’t wait to propose to me. The hand that had never trembled while holding a gun and taking a life, shook uncontrollably as he placed the wedding ring on my finger. It took him several minutes to finally put it on. He smiled, both cocky and arrogant. “Rachel, for the rest of our lives, you are mine. You can’t escape.” Finally, there was a deed to half of Copperfield, with “My heart, for you” written on the back. My eyes burned with unshed tears. Sadly, another woman already occupied his heart. I gave a self-deprecating laugh, packed everything, and scheduled a timed delivery to Mike. I specifically instructed that it was a birthday gift and had to be delivered precisely on time. The next day, I was woken by noise downstairs. Moving boxes were piled in the living room. Mike was cradling a crying baby, softly cooing. Lila stood beside them, the three forming a harmoniously jarring picture. The setting sun cast a fleeting, gentle glow on his hard profile. Lila whispered, “I can just go back to my old apartment…” “It’s not safe there. I can only rest easy with you living here,” Mike cut her off, his tone leaving no room for argument. I leaned against the doorframe, watching for a long time, unnoticed. Until Lila picked up our framed photo from the mantelpiece. “Mike,” I said coldly, “do you even remember where this is? What kind of riff-raff are you bringing in?” Mike finally realized I was home. “This is the safest place. Once things calm down, I’ll send them away.” Our eyes met. One cold, one weary. I looked away first. “Whatever.” But Lila stepped forward, offering an envelope. “Rachel, thank you for your hospitality. Here’s a small token of my appreciation.” I opened it. It was the signed divorce agreement. The bold, powerful signature “Mike Sterling” at the bottom was just like his resolute promise to love only me all those years ago. My fingers trembled imperceptibly as I held the agreement. I hadn’t expected it to be so quick, so easy. Since it was, I didn’t need to cling on any longer. “What’s that?” Mike reached for it, but I deftly dodged him, stuffing it into my bag. “My belongings are none of your concern.” Mike stared at me for a few seconds, then suddenly pulled a black card from his wallet and handed it to Lila. “Take this. The PIN is 0608.” The PIN was still my birthday, yet the bank card was now a gift to appease someone else. I curved my lips in a sarcastic smile. “It seems I’m interrupting your happy family of three here.” With that, I turned to leave. Just as I brushed past him, Mike snatched the divorce agreement from my bag. A rare flicker of seriousness crossed his eyes. But he was interrupted by a child’s wail. “It’s my fault. My presence has made Rachel angry with you, Mike. If she doesn’t want me here, I’ll just leave…” Saying this, she hurried towards the door with the baby. This time, Mike had no mind to look at the paper. He stepped forward to block Lila and her child, his tone towards me colder than I’d ever heard it. “Rachel, be sensible. Lila saved my life. I can’t just watch them live in danger, can I?” “They’re innocent. Even if your father hurt you and your mother because of her, it wasn’t Lila’s fault. Do you understand?” Realizing his tone was too harsh, he glanced at Lila, then lowered his voice, coaxing me, “Even if I have a child, you’re the only one I care about.” My gaze swept over the child in Lila’s arms. Care? If he truly cared, how could he bear to let me be a laughingstock again and again? I opened the door and walked out. I had already booked a taxi. Just as I pulled open the car door, my wrist was seized from behind. Mike had followed me out. “I said I’d take you.” “Mike, I’m not the one who needs you right now.” Mike’s pupils constricted, his grip tightening. “Rachel…” His palm was scalding, burning like a branding iron. “Oh, come on, handsome. If he’s that sincere, lady, just go with him,” the driver said, canceling the order. Today’s snow was heavier than usual, falling thick and fast. Getting another taxi would mean a long wait. I finally compromised. “Fine, you can take me.” Mike’s expression softened slightly. He took my hand, his fingers forcefully interlacing with mine. “Your hands are freezing. You didn’t wear gloves?” “Forgot,” I said calmly, not mentioning that my gloves were always kept in his car. On the way, Mike tried to lighten the mood, reminiscing about old times. “I remember the first time I fought for you. It was also a heavy snowfall like this. After the fight, I grabbed a chocolate bar for you, and it melted in your hand.” I remained silent, but Mike didn’t give up, his voice uncharacteristically gentle. “Next month is our wedding anniversary. What gift do you want? I need to prepare in advance.” My expression flickered. I suddenly wanted to tell Mike directly that I had decided to divorce him. My phone rang before I could speak. “Mike! The baby won’t stop crying for some reason. I can’t comfort him.” Lila’s tearful voice mingled with the baby’s hoarse cries. Mike’s face instantly changed. “What’s wrong? I’m coming right back!” The call ended. He didn’t hesitate. “Rachel, can you take a taxi to the hospital yourself?” “Okay.” I looked at Mike for a few seconds, then calmly agreed, swallowing the words I had been about to say. He was so close to knowing my decision. The snow was too heavy, and the location too remote. I couldn’t find a taxi at all. I trudged through the snow, my legs numb with cold. Tears streamed down my face, instantly freezing into ice. I finally reached the civil affairs office, my face almost transparently pale, my voice lacking any warmth. After warming up in the heated office for a while, I submitted the divorce papers to the staff. I’d requested expedited processing; they said I’d have the divorce certificate in seven days. Returning to the castle, only the guest bedroom light was on. Mike’s gentle voice seeped from under the door. “…Daddy and Mommy will always love our little baby the most…” He was singing a lullaby to coax the child to sleep. “What should we name the baby?” Lila asked softly. “Leo,” Mike blurted out. Star-like brilliance, the light of the emperor. That was the name he and I had chosen for our future child years ago, after spending a night poring over dictionaries. Now, it was easily given to someone else. I curved my lips in a self-deprecating smile and turned to go upstairs. Late at night, hot breath ghosted against my neck, and cool lips pressed against my skin. “Mike!” I woke with a start, pushing him away forcefully. “Don’t touch me! I find it disgusting!” “You despise me?” He froze, his eyes instantly darkening. He ignored my struggles and kissed me fiercely. “Hiss—” I bit his tongue. The metallic taste of blood filled my mouth. Mike winced, but still didn’t let go. My nightgown was roughly torn open, revealing my pale, tender skin. His touch everywhere only caused waves of nausea. Tears silently streamed down, splashing onto his hand. “Alright, don’t cry.” He finally stopped, fumbling to wipe my tears. “It’s my fault.” I clenched my fists, staring at him. “You said everything could go back to how it was…” “But Mike, you never used to be like this.” Mike paused, then after a moment, he whispered, “I’m sorry.” He took a pillow and went to the sofa. Perhaps due to my tears last night, Mike felt guilty and suggested we go to the shooting range to relax. When he pulled up the car, I was about to get into the passenger seat, but Lila squeezed past me. He didn’t notice at all, getting out of the car himself, placing his hand on Lila’s head to shield her as he helped her in. After we arrived, he was constantly doting on her, completely forgetting I was behind him. “Careful, it’s slippery.” “Look down. Put on your goggles.” “Drink some hot water, don’t catch a cold.” Every word felt like a bullet tearing through me. I silently walked to a shooting lane, picked up a silver Desert Eagle, expertly loaded and cocked it, then aimed. These were the things he had taught me when I was twenty-five, whispering softly in my ear, guiding my hands. But now, all his attention was on another woman, afraid she might suffer the slightest mishap. Ten minutes later, he finally remembered me, but only to say, “Rachel, can you hold the baby for a moment? I’m going to teach Lila how to shoot.” I ignored him, pulling the trigger repeatedly. The gunshots echoed, startling the baby into loud cries. Lila immediately persuaded, “I won’t learn anymore, Mike. Go accompany Rachel.” Mike frowned, picked up the baby, and walked towards the rest area to find his assistant. “Rachel,” Lila approached, holding a small pistol. Her smile was gentle, but her eyes were cold. “I heard lead bullets are safe, but I’m curious what happens if you’re shot within a meter.” She suddenly raised her arm and pulled the trigger! Bang! The gun fired. The bullet tore through my wrist bone. Blood spattered out. Lila’s scream rang out simultaneously, and Mike rushed over almost immediately. “Mike!” I cried out in pain. But he ran straight to Lila, his expression frantic, scooping her up and rushing out, not once looking back at me. Warm blood soaked through my sleeve. I vaguely recalled when I was twenty-five, he held my hand and said: “Rachel, guns are dangerous, but with me, you’ll never be harmed.” My vision blurred. I sank weakly to the ground. When I woke again, I was in a hospital. Both hands were bandaged. The slightest movement brought excruciating pain. Mike sat by my bedside, dark circles under his eyes. “Rachel, you’re awake?” His voice was hoarse. “Does it still hurt?” Seeing his seemingly genuine concern, I suddenly felt very tired. “Did you investigate what happened?” “It was just an accident,” Mike replied without thinking, tucking me in. “Rest well and don’t overthink it, okay?” I pressed my lips together, wanting to speak, but then I noticed that my uninjured right hand was also bandaged. “What happened here?” “Lila’s hand was severely mangled, and the doctors said she needed a skin graft. But she’s allergic to artificial skin…” A chill spread through my body, bit by bit. “Your skin matched hers. The situation was too urgent, so I signed the consent form for you to donate skin to Lila.” He said it so casually, yet I felt as if I’d plunged into an ice abyss. My eyes widened in disbelief, trying to find a trace of a joke in his gaze, but tears welled up uncontrollably. Mike’s tone became urgent: “It was just a small piece from the inner arm. It won’t affect anything…” “Get out,” I said softly, closing my eyes. “I don’t want to see you.” Mike froze, reaching out to touch me, but I fiercely slapped his hand away. “Get out!” I shrieked hysterically. “Get out!” The wound burst open, blood seeping through the bandages. Mike’s face changed, and he frantically pressed the call button. “Rachel, calm down! Your wound has reopened!” I heard nothing, struggling wildly, my arm crashing against the bed rail. The nurse rushed in and held me down. A cold sedative was injected into my veins. My strength rapidly drained away. With my last ounce of energy, I squeezed out two words: “Divorce.” On the day I was discharged, Mike personally picked me up and took me home. Everything there was back to normal. All traces of Lila and the child were gone. Mike set out the food. “Try it. I haven’t cooked in a long time.” His expression was normal, but I felt something was off. I looked at him and asked directly, “Mike, I don’t want to interfere in your and Lila’s affairs anymore. If you have something to say, just say it.” “Don’t overthink it. Eat first.” He evaded the question, serving me food and soup. During the meal, there was only the faint sound of cutlery. He glanced at his watch occasionally, a habit of vigilance he’d developed over the years. My unease grew stronger. I hastily ate a few bites, and as soon as I stood up, a wave of dizziness sent me back down. Mike put down his utensils, his expression slowly turning cold, chilling to the bone. “Rachel, this is your punishment.” His tone was one I had never heard before, so devoid of warmth. “I’ve already sent Lila away, yet you still dared to leak her whereabouts to my enemies! She and the child were almost run over! Rachel, how could you become so vicious? That’s my child too!” Leaked whereabouts? Almost run over? I gritted my teeth. “I didn’t…” “Only I, Lila, and you knew about that house! Was she trying to get herself killed?” He suddenly pulled me up. “I’ve indulged you too much.” “Rachel, reflect on your actions.” With that, he personally locked me in the closet. The world instantly plunged into dead silence and darkness. When I was ten, my mother hid me in a closet, and I watched my father brutally assault her for three hours. Blood splattered all over the closet. I stayed in there for three days and three nights. It was Mike who found me and carried me out. Now, he was the one who personally locked me in. Cold sweat immediately drenched my back. Fear seized my heart. I huddled in the corner, breathing rapidly, unable to distinguish reality from illusion, my face ashen. Before consciousness faded, I saw him at our wedding three years ago, holding my hand, swearing to the heavens: “I, Mike Sterling, swear to God, I will never betray you, Rachel Vance, in this life.” That vow, once made, now burned to ash in an inferno. When I woke again, the air was thick with the smell of disinfectant.

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