At the wedding I had meticulously planned myself, my stoic fiancé, my childhood friend, ran off with his assistant, who was also wearing a wedding gown. His younger brother, however, abruptly got into the wedding car with me, dragged me into the city hall despite my panic, and said we were getting married. The elaborate stage set suddenly collapsed, revealing a room full of guests all laughing at me. To make the little assistant smile, the two brothers I’d grown up with, the ones who’d sworn to protect me for life, tore up our fake marriage certificate and showered me with the pieces. The three of them stood on stage, interlocking arms to drink champagne. “The wedding you planned was so tacky. We changed it to a bachelorette party for Mia. You should be grateful.” “The real wedding is on Sunday! Isn’t Mia’s idea such a fun surprise?” They were so sure I couldn’t live without them. But I just calmly picked up my phone. “Let’s schedule the wedding with the heir of the Lucian family for this Sunday.” … An ecstatic reply instantly flooded my screen: “We’ll arrange the wedding design schedule immediately!” Mia pouted, leaning against Philip. “I’m not really the marrying type, you guys. I just wanted to experience what it feels like, and the Song brothers made it happen for me right away!” I didn’t answer. My phone was violently knocked out of my hand by Philip. “Are you deaf? Where are the manners the Song family taught you? Mia is pure-hearted. Do you have to be so petty that you can’t even answer her?” My fiancé, Nathan, stepped in front of me, shielding Mia. He glanced at my phone. “…What schedule? Are you going on a business trip?” I quickly picked up my phone and turned off the screen. “A company project.” The three of them looked like a perfect trio, making my wedding dress, now littered with shredded paper, look utterly ridiculous. Whispers filled the room. “Look at her. Does she still think she’s the bride? This is a party the two young masters of the Song family threw for Miss Mia.” “The moment one brother runs off, she tries to marry the other. Young Master Philip really has her number… so desperate for a man.” The guests were all wealthy socialites we’d grown up with, and their words were laced with malicious contempt. And the two childhood friends who had sworn to protect me for life were now orbiting Mia, their eyes full of adoration. I looked around. The romantic setting I had so carefully designed was completely destroyed. White balloons and roses were splattered with bright red paint reading “Happy Single Life!” This whole humiliating spectacle, with me as the punchline, had been orchestrated by them to showcase their devotion to Mia. I reached up and plucked a piece of paper from my hair, my hand trembling uncontrollably. Mia faltered, her eyes instantly turning red. “Sienna, it’s my fault. I suggested they surprise you with a bachelorette party. I’m so sorry…” Nathan patted her head, his face cold as he admonished me. “Can you stop playing the victim? You’re a wedding planner. You’ve seen every kind of scene there is.” Philip exploded at his brother’s words, grabbing my wrist and yanking me in front of Mia. “Sienna! Mia’s just a naive young girl! How can you pressure her like this? She’s the only one who’d be fooled by your pathetic act! Apologize. Now!” Pain shot up my arm. I steadied myself and calmly removed the ring I had designed. Nathan’s expression changed. He subconsciously covered his own hand. The custom wedding band I’d spent three months creating for him was gone, replaced by one that matched Mia’s. I answered quickly. “You’re right. Let’s all enjoy the bachelorette party today.” They stared at me, shocked. This was the first time I had ever yielded so easily when it came to Mia. I had always fought with them over her. Like the time Mia threw away all my stomach medication, and they commandeered every available ambulance in the area, leaving me to suffer. Before they left, they had looked at me with cold indifference. “Can you stop throwing tantrums and faking illnesses? You target Mia the second she shows up!” Now, I wouldn’t throw any more tantrums. “Let’s break up.” I tossed the ring. Nathan froze, his face darkening. I smiled. “Happy single life, isn’t it?” Philip was the first to lose his composure. “Are you insane? It’s one thing not to accept the surprise Mia planned for you, but marriage is a once-in-a-lifetime event! If you don’t marry into our Song family, who else would want you?!” The heart I thought could no longer feel pain grew another inch colder. I smiled and calmly tossed the shredded paper at Philip. He grabbed my wrist in disbelief, roaring, “How dare you—?!” The pain was sharp and clear. I remembered how, whenever I used to get hurt, they would fuss over me, applying medicine with grave concern, protecting me like a precious treasure. Now, I was no longer the one they wanted to protect. “This was Miss Mia’s idea,” I said flatly. “You should experience it.” Philip was speechless, his face flushing red and pale by turns. He disgustedly threw the paper scraps back at me. “Have you made enough of a scene? Sienna!” Nathan strode over, his brow furrowed. “Our wedding is next week. If you embarrass us in front of this many people again, I’ll cancel it!” The old me would have begged for their forgiveness. My parents had died protecting me, a fact that made my grandmother resent me so much she refused to raise me. So, I was taken in by the Song family, who were close friends of my parents. The insecurity of being an outsider meant that in our childhood friendship, no matter who was angry, I was always the one to bow my head and apologize first. They felt sorry for me and swore to spoil me rotten, to never let me feel upset again. After seventeen years together, the more stable Nathan and I made our relationship official. Philip threw a fit but eventually accepted it, continuing to treat me like a sister. But things had changed. Mrs. Song had gone abroad for long-term medical treatment, and like an old, forgotten toy, I was cast aside, unloved. The wedding I had looked forward to with all my heart had become a joke, just like me. The jeers from the guests grew louder. Someone started chanting. “Dump her! Teach her to know her place!” The two brothers looked down at me, waiting for my apology, for me to beg. There was no warmth in their eyes. I curled my lips into a smile. “Well then, I wish the three of you a hundred years of happiness. Congratulations on your marriage!” The room fell silent. Philip, enraged, raised his hand to strike me. “What’s that supposed to mean? You know how important a girl’s reputation is! Why are you spreading rumors about Mia?! You’re ruining everything!” He knew. He knew this was the wedding I had designed with all my hopes and dreams. Yet, he still humiliated me for someone else. When his eyes met my tear-filled ones, he suddenly froze. I turned and walked away. Philip, flustered, started to follow, but Nathan’s calm voice stopped him. “Let her go! She’s an orphan with no home. Where else could she possibly go without us?” The footsteps paused for a second, but then Philip bolted after me, shouting into the empty hallway. “You really dare to leave?! We would’ve been better off raising a dog!” Tears streamed silently down my face. I heard him curse a few more times before he returned to the party. The noise behind me gradually faded. I walked toward a car waiting by the street. “Let’s go get the marriage certificate now.” After receiving the certificate, I felt a little dazed. I had met Javone at work, rejected his advances, and now, after all this, we were married through a family arrangement. Since we were married, I decided to use the remaining five days to make a clean break with the past. I went home to pack, but my life was too deeply entangled with the Songs. The financial ties were more than I could ever repay. I nervously called Javone. He transferred the money without a second thought. He had only one condition. “Help me plan a grand wedding. The kind that gets broadcast nationwide.” Javone’s laughter was a low, pleasant rumble. As I looked at the dreamy wedding sketches, a tickle of excitement sparked in my heart. He gave me access to top-tier planners I’d never had before, and the venue decorations could be changed at a moment’s notice to match my vision. It felt like he was determined to lift me up. Meanwhile, the Song Corporation had given all their best resources to Mia. I was left with scraps. And my designs were being passed off as hers. Thinking of this, my smile faded. Nathan was right. There was a time I couldn’t have survived without them. But things were different now. Love, I was learning, wasn’t about controlling someone. It was about giving them the freedom and support to be themselves. On the fourth night before the wedding, drifting in a state of exhaustion, I heard a faint rustling outside my door. “I told you she couldn’t leave us. She talked so tough, but she still came crawling back like a dog.” I forced myself to sit up, but Nathan snatched the sketches from my hands. “Our wedding is just around the corner. What’s the point of planning now?” He didn’t know this was the plan for my wedding to Javone. I silently took the sketches back. He frowned, his tone softening. “Mia just wanted to surprise you. We’re getting officially married next week anyway. Don’t be mad, okay?” I knew this whole charade was Mia’s design. Whether it was our three-person anniversary or my birthday, they always brought Mia along to wreck my plans and make her the shining star of the event, while I was left to shrink in a corner, eating a ruined piece of cake. Just like now. They had abandoned me for two days for Mia’s sake, not a single message to check in. I was exhausted. I mumbled a noncommittal reply without looking up. Nathan finally relaxed. Philip, who had been lurking at the door, reluctantly came in. “Sienna, we were too harsh today. The Song family will always welcome you. We’re sorry.” I nodded. Nathan, relieved, produced a gift box. When he opened it, it revealed a pair of worn high heels. The two of them looked at the box like it was a hot potato, their faces panicked. I watched them with a faint, mocking smile. Philip guiltily put the shoes away, muttering, “One of the guests must have left them by mistake. The boxes look so similar, I must have mixed them up.” Nathan, who had sworn never to lie to me, chimed in. “Yeah, you know how some guests like to be comfortable…” I certainly didn’t know any guests who were allowed to ride in their private car. In fact, since Mia’s arrival, the front passenger seat had become her exclusive territory, her bare feet propped up on the cushion where my back used to rest. But I didn’t care anymore. My placid acceptance made them vaguely uneasy. “Sienna, you don’t seem happy. Are you really not angry anymore?” The next second, their expressions turned wary. “If something’s wrong, you tell us. Don’t take it out on Mia.” I shook my head. “I just think I shouldn’t throw tantrums anymore.” They exchanged a look, surprised by this unfamiliar obedience. Just then, their phones rang in unison. They glanced at each other, a flash of excitement in their eyes, and immediately prepared to leave. I lowered my gaze. “Aren’t you going to give me my gift?” They froze. The excitement on their faces curdled into disgust. They threw the box at my face. “Don’t you understand what’s important? How did we never realize what a materialistic woman you are!” When they saw the blood, they panicked for a second but didn’t stop leaving. “Just open it yourself! The first aid kit is in the usual place!” The door slammed shut. The clock struck midnight. Three days left. I spoke softly to the empty room. “Did you know? Today was my birthday.” Finally, they had reached the point where they didn’t even remember my birthday. But that was fine. At least I wouldn’t be a joke to anyone anymore. I booked a flight for the day after tomorrow, Sunday. Early in the morning, under a gloomy, drizzling sky, I went to the cemetery. When I was a child, I had insisted on going to the mountains for my birthday. My parents were buried in a landslide that day. I could never accept that I had been the cause of their deaths. I grew up consumed by guilt and grief. Javone had been the one to comfort me. “They loved you. That’s why they held you above their heads when the landslide came. They wanted you to be happy.” Tears streamed down my face. No one had ever said that to me before. They all said I was the one who killed my parents. Even the two Song brothers avoided the topic. I wanted to speak to my parents alone first, so Javone waited for me outside the cemetery. To my surprise, I saw Nathan and Philip standing in front of their graves. I froze. They hadn’t been to pay their respects in three years, not since Mia arrived. I took a dazed step forward. But the next second, they picked up shovels and started digging up my parents’ graves. I screamed, rushing forward to stop them. “What are you doing?! Those are my parents!” They looked guilty for a moment, but quickly became defiant. “Mia’s pet spider died. A fortune teller said this was an auspicious spot for it. We found a better place for your parents.” “But they are my parents!” Tears streamed down my face as I shrieked in despair. Mia appeared from nowhere, pushing me aside to protect Philip. “You crazy woman! You’re not allowed to hurt Brother Philip!” In the chaos, the urn was knocked over. Both brothers instinctively rushed to Mia, cradling her ankle where a shard had cut her. I scrambled to the broken urn, tears blurring my vision. As children, they had been showered with my parents’ love. And now, for a spider, they were desecrating their graves. Mia let out a cry of pain, but this time, neither of them immediately turned their attention to her. Philip looked at my tear-streaked, devastated face and seemed momentarily flustered. Nathan was the first to kneel, trying to comfort me. “Sienna, what’s done is done…” I raised my hand to slap him.

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My parents called to tell me they were heading to my childhood friend’s house to meet his blind date. My childhood friend, Hugh, was fast asleep beside me. I thought it was a joke. “Hugh,” I whispered, “they said they found you a blind date.” He grunted, pulling me closer into his arms. “Cora, sweetheart, pick out an outfit for me in a bit, would you? And help me with my hair.” When I froze, Hugh cracked open an eye and let out a cynical laugh. “What’s wrong with you? We’re just hookup buddies. You didn’t actually think I was going to marry you, did you?” 1 My mind blanked. All I could do was fumble awkwardly. I couldn’t bring myself to look at Hugh. I pushed him away, snatching my clothes from the floor and pulling them on haphazardly. “Cora, look at me.” Hugh propped his chin on his arm, a playful glint in his eyes. “You didn’t really think we were boyfriend and girlfriend, did you?” The words “hookup buddies” echoed in my head. My hands trembled so badly I couldn’t fasten the clasp on my bra. Hugh threw back the covers, revealing a lean, sculpted torso, and knelt on the edge of the bed. With practiced ease, his fingers found the clasp and secured it. I kept my head down. “Who’s the blind date?” I managed, forcing a bitter laugh. “Please don’t tell me your parents just grabbed some random person from a singles’ mixer.” I glanced at my reflection in the mirror, at the constellation of red marks scattered across my skin. My legs still ached. Hugh, now only in a pair of grey sweatpants, moved behind me and buried his face in the crook of my neck. “It’s Isla.” He arched a brow, those handsome eyes of his crinkling. “You remember, the senior from the art department in college. Isla.” He let out a low whistle. “To be honest, just thinking about seeing her again… I’m actually a little nervous.” My hand, holding a tube of lipstick, froze. Of course, I remembered. Hugh had a massive crush on her, but before he could confess, she’d moved abroad. I thought that was all in the past… Hugh’s eyes were fixed on me. He pursed his lips. “Cora, don’t get any funny ideas. We grew up together, practically in diapers. And yeah, you’re… beautiful, no doubt. But I see you as one of the guys. “You’re my perfect partner—for meals, for road trips, for bed…” His words hit me like a physical blow, a chill spreading through my entire body. I stared at his smiling face and managed a weak curl of my lips. He went on. “Besides, I know everything about you. What you’ll wear on any given day, right down to the matching underwear set. It’s… kind of boring, you know? Sometimes I wake up in the middle of the night and see you sleeping next to me, and I get this jolt of fear—what if that joke our families always make comes true? What if we actually got married? My whole life would be over before it even started.” He shuddered dramatically, as if the mere thought was terrifying. I dug my nails into my palm, fighting to keep the tears from falling. “I have to go.” I wrapped my coat around myself and fled like a deserter. 2 I thought Hugh and I were dating. We did everything other couples did. We ate together, went on dates, hung out with friends where, during a game of Truth or Dare, we’d casually kiss and say “I love you” without a hint of irony. Hugh would pick me up from work on rainy days. He’d secretly hold my hand under the table at family dinners. I never knew that the six months I thought were a budding romance were just a game of house to him. “Cora?” My mom tapped on the car window, her face etched with concern. I snapped back to reality. I saw my own tear-streaked face in the rearview mirror and quickly wiped it clean before getting out. “Mom!” I threw myself into her arms, hiding my face in her shoulder with a forced laugh. “I missed you.” She was holding a bag of groceries, and she took my arm, breathing a sigh of relief. “Honey, why were you just sitting in the car? You scared me. Didn’t you see that news story about someone…” I nodded along. Suddenly, her tone shifted. “Oh, by the way, Cora… Hugh’s blind date is coming over soon. Your uncle and aunt are taking this very seriously. I hear Hugh has been planning this for a long time. He said he was worried the girl might feel awkward, and having another girl there might help her relax.” She looked at me, her expression pained, hesitating. “I’ve been best friends with his mom for so many years, so when we go over today…” I knew what she was trying to say. “It’s okay, Mom,” I said, forcing a smile. “Just break the ice, say nice things. I get it.” She gave me a look filled with pity. Of course, she understood. A photo of Hugh and me sat on my bedside table. Every gift he’d ever given me was carefully stored away like a treasure. My notebooks were filled with his name, a testament to a love I couldn’t hide. How could she not know? We walked home in silence. As we opened the door, I said suddenly, “Dad’s retiring next month. Let’s move to Florida.” I looked at my mom’s stunned face and tried to sound playful. “You’ve always said you wanted to retire there. I don’t have any big dreams anyway. I can be a dance teacher, stay by your side. That’s all I need.” 3 Sitting in Hugh’s living room with my parents felt different this time. Every other time, we were laughing and fooling around. The last time, we’d used “playing video games” as an excuse to sneak off to his room and kiss. This time… “Oh, Amelia, you have no idea the lengths this boy went to for this girl, Isla,” Hugh’s mom said to mine. “I told him, ‘Just ask her out!’ But no, he had to insist on framing it as ‘dating with the intention of marriage.’ He made his father pull all sorts of strings just to get her to agree to meet today as a blind date.” I looked around the meticulously decorated house, filled with bouquets of roses. The table was laden with fruits and sweets. Even their little dog was wearing a bright red sweater. And there was Hugh, checking his reflection over and over, making sure he was perfect. The bitter irony was that just last night, we were tangled in his sheets, and he was kissing the small birthmark on my waist with such tenderness. The underwear he was wearing right now? I bought it for him. “Ah, it’s such a shame, though…” Hugh’s mom squeezed my mother’s hand wistfully. “We always said we’d be in-laws one day. We even made a childhood pact for them!” She glanced at me. “I truly adore Cora. She’s not just beautiful, she has a wonderful personality, so bright and cheerful…” I kept my eyes down, not daring to respond. I was afraid one wrong move and the tears would start falling. “Mom!” Hugh frowned, clearly displeased. “You said it yourself, that was your generation’s thing. You and Aunt Amelia are close, why don’t you two get married? What does it have to do with me? What century are we living in, still clinging to those old ideas?” He had no regard for the adults’ feelings. Then he turned to me, his tone harsh, as if I’d put his mother up to it. “Cora, where’s the bracelet my mom gave you?” When I didn’t answer, he strode over, grabbed my wrist, and pushed up my sleeve. “The one they gave you as a token for that childhood pact. I’m afraid Isla will get the wrong idea if she sees it…” The words hung in the air. My dad and his, who had been sipping tea, froze. My mom, who had been arranging flowers for him, stopped cold. The atmosphere turned instantly sour. My mom stared at me, the vase and clippers in her hand clattering onto the table. She started to get up, but Hugh’s mom pulled her back down. Then, she stood up herself, placing herself firmly in front of me and giving Hugh a hard shove. “Hugh! What do you think you’re doing? Putting aside the fact that nothing’s even started between you and this Isla… that bracelet? You were the one who got on your knees and begged Cora to wear it when you were seventeen!” It was like a switch flipped in Hugh’s mind. He remembered. He remembered that year when another boy confessed his feelings to me. Panicked, he’d gotten drunk, stolen the jade bracelet from his mother’s jewelry box, and shown up at my house in the middle of the night, crying, pleading, even kneeling, begging me to wear his family heirloom. He tugged at his collar, took a deep breath, and forced a smile at me. “I’m just a little tense. I… it’s not right to take back a gift… you can keep it.” “It’s fine. I’ll give it back. I’ll go home and get it now.” I stood up, cutting him off, my voice steady. “I’ll be quick. I won’t hold things up.” Before anyone could react, I grabbed my bag and walked out. 4 When I returned with the bracelet and was about to knock, a chorus of cheers from inside stopped me— “Welcome—” Hugh’s smile froze the moment he saw me. “What are you doing here?” He clearly hadn’t expected me to come back, let alone to actually return the bracelet. When I held it out to him, his face was a mask of disbelief. He finally took it, pocketed it, and leaned in to whisper in my ear. “Cora, for the sake of our… partnership, don’t you dare cause any trouble today. Isla’s a sensitive girl. Don’t say the wrong thing and upset her.” I didn’t want to even look at him. Isla was a girl, but wasn’t I? I looked at the person I had loved for my entire youth, and a bone-deep chill threatened to swallow me whole. Ten minutes later, Isla arrived, escorted by the matchmaker. The adults chatted amiably. This was why my parents had to be here—to subtly lay out our family’s finances and future prospects for the matchmaker’s benefit. Throughout it all, Hugh sat beside Isla, his every gesture radiating care. At nearly thirty, he was acting like a green, infatuated teenager. I was completely irrelevant, which suited me fine. I was just looking for a chance to slip away. But then, Isla turned her gentle gaze on me. “You must be Cora. I’ve heard so much about you. The goddess of the arts department, wasn’t it?” Startled to be addressed, I waved my hands dismissively. “Oh, no, not at all. That was just everyone fooling around in college.” I hoped the attention would quickly shift away, but Isla persisted. “Not at all! I remember you performed a classical dance at the university ball. The next day, the entire ground floor of your dorm was flooded with flowers for you.” Before I could speak, she tugged playfully at Hugh’s arm. “You two are childhood friends. How did you not end up together? I remember you were inseparable. Everyone thought you’d get married.” Every eye in the room turned to me. I don’t know how to describe it, but this seemingly harmless woman radiated a strange hostility. “Her?” Hugh looked at Isla, handing her a freshly peeled apple. “To you, she might be a girl, a goddess even. But to me, she’s just a tomboy. My best friend, the one I grew up sharing everything with.” A memory seemed to surface, and he chuckled. “You have no idea. When Cora cried as a kid, snot and tears would just stream down her face. If I didn’t wipe it for her, that big glob of snot would’ve gone right into her mouth.” He warmed to his theme. “And when she was fifteen, she fainted during gym class from running and started talking nonsense, flailing her arms around like a maniac…” “I have to go, I have something to do.” I stood up, barely containing my fury, and forced a smile at the adults. “You all enjoy your chat.” Isla looked at Hugh with a troubled expression. “Did I say something wrong to upset your little sister?” Hugh glared at me, as if blaming me for ruining the atmosphere. Before he could speak, I cut him off. “I have a date with my boyfriend tonight. If I don’t leave now, I’ll be late.” 5 “Since when do you have a boyfriend?” I had one foot out the door when Hugh grabbed my arm. “How come I don’t know about this?” My face flushed hot in front of everyone, especially Isla. I wrenched my arm free. “Why do you care if I have a boyfriend or not?” I snapped. “My own parents haven’t even asked. It’s none of your business!” “Hugh!” his father said in a low, stern voice. “Sit down! What kind of behavior is this?” I took the opportunity to bow to the adults. “Goodbye, Uncle, Auntie.” From behind me, Isla’s sweet voice piped up. “Cora is so beautiful, and she’s always performing on stage. She must have plenty of admirers… It’s perfectly normal for her to be dating. I even saw what looked like a hickey under her scarf earlier.”

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The world went black. I woke in the school infirmary, antiseptic stinging my nose. Cause? Collapsed during a jog from exhaustion. Reason? My weight. Ralph arrived first, his handsome face feigning concern. Just as I felt a flicker of warmth, a glitchy pop-up only I could see appeared: 【Sweet, clueless girl. Your brother bound a weight-loss system to you for that scholarship girl.】 【The more you diet, the thinner she gets. Her binge-eating? All transfers to you.】 My hand trembled. The door burst open—Ethan rushed in with my study tablet. The ghostly text flickered again: 【He linked a study system to you too. Every ounce of effort you put in boosts her grades.】 【You went from top of your class to this… because of them.】 The words blurred. I nearly fainted from rage. So, I was their golden goose, and they were plucking me bare? I turned the tablet away, fingers flying across a mindless match-three game. Fine. If this was the game they wanted to play, nobody would enjoy it. 1. “Can’t even jog without passing out? How pathetic are you?” Ralph’s voice was cold as ice, his brows knitted in a severe frown as he looked down at me on the infirmary bed. I used to think he was just tough on the outside, a classic case of a harsh tongue hiding a soft heart. Now, thanks to the phantom pop-ups, I knew the truth. Ralph’s disdain was as real on the inside as it was on the out. “I’ve thought it over,” I said, my voice flat. “I’m done trying to lose weight. It’s useless anyway, so I’m not doing it anymore.” I didn’t look at him, focusing on clearing a new level of the game. He slammed his hand on the table beside my bed, making me jump. “Don’t you dare defy me! Who said you could stop? You think I’m supporting you for nothing?” he snarled. “You’re fat enough as it is, and you’re lazing around here? I bet you’re just faking it. Tonight, no dinner. You’re running laps, as usual!” When I didn’t respond, his temper flared, and he raised a hand as if to strike me. The ever-gentle Ethan stepped between us. “The city-wide finals are coming up, Ralph. Everyone’s cramming. It makes sense for Lisa to shift her focus to studying for a bit,” he said smoothly. “Come on, let’s not distract her. She needs to get back to her practice questions.” I stared at them, using every ounce of my willpower to crush the bitterness and hatred clawing at my throat. These two men. One was my adopted brother, whom my parents treated like their own son, elevating him to the status of a high-society heir. The other was my childhood friend, whose family I’d begged my parents to save from bankruptcy years ago. And yet, for some girl who had appeared out of nowhere, they had joined forces to ruin me. “I never realized,” I said, my voice barely more than a whisper, squeezed from between gritted teeth, “how much you two truly care about me.” My voice was dripping with venom. “Since you’ve been so good to me, I’ll be sure to repay you properly.” Ralph frowned, but Ethan, oblivious, just smiled his gentle smile. “Of course, Lisa. It’s what we should do. But if you really feel you owe us… you could always invest in my family’s latest venture. My parents are a little short on capital right now.” Invest in your ass. I kicked the thin blanket off, grabbed my tablet, and stormed out of the room. 2. Back in the classroom, my eyes immediately found her: Serena Miller. The scholarship student I’d been sponsoring for six years. Today, she was flawless, her face a perfect oval, her skin so pale she practically glowed. She was the center of attention wherever she went. But I remembered the old Serena. The girl with dull skin, short and pudgy, who used to write me letters calling me her role model. When she followed me to this elite high school, I felt sorry for her, all alone in a new city. I invited her to my home, introduced her to my friends. Including Ethan. Slowly, everything changed. I got fatter. My grades plummeted. The people who once surrounded me drifted away, flocking to her side instead. Now, Serena rushed over, her face a mask of concern, though the corners of her lips twitched upward. “Lisa, you’re back! We heard you fainted while dieting. We were all so worried.” She squeezed my hand. “It’s okay to be a little chubby, really. You shouldn’t worry so much about your looks. It’s what’s on the inside that counts.” Before I could even respond, someone else chimed in with a cold laugh. “The inside? As if she has any inner beauty. Her personality is as ugly as her grades. It’s true what they say—your face reflects your soul.” “Serena, you’re just too nice,” another girl added. “She doesn’t even treat you like a friend, and you still waste your kindness on her.” “Lisa’s only trying so hard to lose weight to steal Ethan from you. Too bad Ethan’s not blind. Anyone with eyes can see who the better choice is.” Before, I would have shrunk under their relentless, casual cruelty, too ashamed of my weight and my failing grades to speak up. Not this time. I slammed my hand on a desk. “Who the hell is spreading rumors that I’m doing this for a guy?” I roared, my voice shaking with fury. “I’m the one who’s been bullied this whole time! Don’t push me too far!” “Okay, okay, everyone calm down,” Serena said, stepping forward with her fake magnanimity. “Lisa has the right to pursue who she likes. Every girl in the world is lovely in her own way.” She then turned to me, her tone chiding. “But Lisa, they didn’t mean any harm. Lashing out like that is not the way. It’s not good for class unity.” “Unity?” I felt a vein throb in my forehead. “You didn’t give a damn about unity when you were all ganging up on me, but now that I’m fighting back, you lecture me about it?” Just then, the bell for class rang. I clenched my fists and stalked back to my seat. “What a psycho. What’s her problem today?” As a student passed my desk, they “accidentally” knocked my textbook to the floor. As I bent to pick it up, the person behind them deliberately stomped on it. I flinched back, and a sharp, searing pain shot through my head as it connected with the corner of a desk. The pain was dizzying, followed by a wave of malicious laughter. A boy’s voice cut through the noise, loud enough for me to hear clearly. “That fat pig actually thinks she can fight back. She’s just a joke to us.” 3. This period was Math, typically my weakest subject and one I always poured extra effort into. But after seeing the pop-ups, my perspective had shifted. I refused to pave the way for my own saboteurs. I swiped a novel from my desk mate and, head down, dove into the story. Serena, who had been admiring her reflection in a compact mirror, noticed my uncharacteristic behavior. She grew visibly anxious. “Lisa!” she hissed, waiting for the teacher to turn to the blackboard. “What do you think you’re doing? You’ve always been so diligent. The finals are just around the corner, don’t you want a shot at the guaranteed admission spots?” “One, my grades are in the toilet, so I don’t have a chance. Two, my family’s rich, so I have plenty of backup options. Why should I torture myself?” I shot back with a smirk, flipping the page of my novel with a flourish. Rebelling in plain sight was exhilarating, especially since the teachers had long given up on me, implicitly accepting that I was a lost cause. By the end of the class, I’d devoured nearly a hundred chapters, my eyes welling up from the story’s drama. After school, I marched straight to the commercial street outside campus, settled into a high-end restaurant, and treated myself to a magnificent solo dinner while binging a TV show. When I finally returned to the classroom, full and content, I found a towering stack of Math workbooks on my desk. “Lisa, I know you’ve been under a lot of pressure lately,” Serena said with a smile. “It’s okay. I went and bought you the most comprehensive set of Math practice books on the market.” She patted the stack. “It was only about three hundred and eighty bucks. Don’t forget to add the delivery fee and send it to me, okay?” She turned to go back to her seat and her makeup, but I picked up the entire stack and deposited it right back on her desk. Her jaw dropped. I met her shocked gaze with an icy stare. “I didn’t ask you to buy them. Take them back.” Serena had never seen me like this, defiant and unpredictable. Her hands started to shake. “They cost over three hundred and eighty dollars! I bought them to help you, and you know I don’t have money! You’re just going to refuse them?” “Don’t try to guilt-trip me,” I said, my face a blank mask. “You’re the one who insisted on buying them. It has nothing to do with me.” Serena was speechless for a moment, then she switched tactics, her voice rising in a theatrical, grief-stricken cry. “I did this for you! Look at your grades! I used all the money I had to help you, and this is how you treat me? How am I supposed to live? How can you be so cruel…” The more she spoke, the more she seemed to convince herself of her own victimhood. She collapsed onto her desk, sobbing loudly and clutching her chest as if she couldn’t breathe. The classroom erupted. One of the boys, seeing his goddess in such distress, stormed over, rolling up his sleeves. “Lisa, you’re a heartless bitch! You made Serena this upset, you have to compensate her for emotional damages! You’re covering her living expenses for the rest of the month!” The sheer absurdity of his logic almost made me laugh. “Did I ask her to buy the books? How is it my problem if she can’t afford to eat?” Just then, a voice cut through the chaos. “Serena!” Ethan was standing at the classroom door. He took in the scene, his expression hardening into something terrifying. He rushed past me, shoving me aside, and swept Serena into his arms before striding out of the room. 4. “You’re done for, Lisa! If anything happens to Serena, it’s all on you! We all saw it!” a student shouted after them. The threat was a good reminder. Worried about being framed, I hurried after them to the infirmary. Inside, Serena was lying on a bed with her eyes closed. When she saw me pull out my tablet, she must have assumed I was finally going to study. But instead, I started a new round of my match-three game, my fingers flying across the screen. She couldn’t stand it. “Lisa, will you die if you don’t play that for five minutes? Study! I forbid you from playing anymore!” I just grinned and scooted my chair a little farther away. Serena looked like she was about to explode. “What is wrong with you today? Did you hit your head when you fainted and get a personality transplant? Are you insane?! Ethan! Ethan, what are you doing just standing there?” Ethan was leaning against the wall, his face flushed and breathing heavily, his arms hanging limp at his sides. It took him a moment to recover before he walked over. “Serena,” he said, panting slightly. “You feel… heavier.” Now that he said it, I noticed it too. It wasn’t my imagination. Serena’s face was definitely puffier. Her expression soured instantly. Ethan scrambled to correct himself. “No, no, that’s not what I meant! It’s me. I’ve been slacking off at the gym, too many business dinners with my parents.” The school nurse came in just then, announcing that Serena was fine, likely just a bit of low blood sugar. Seizing the opportunity, Ethan quickly ordered two milk teas and a slice of cake on his phone, saying it was to make up for the scare. I had been silent until then. “Ethan,” I said, my voice dangerously calm. “You shoved me back there. Don’t you think you owe me an apology?” I looked him dead in the eye. “And to think I had my parents looking out for your family’s business. I guess loyalty means nothing to you.” Ethan forced a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “It was an emergency, Lisa. I didn’t mean to knock into you. We’ve been friends for so long, I’m sure you can forgive me, right?” Yes, for years, I had considered him my best friend. There had even been a time when the lines of our friendship blurred with something more, a tender, unspoken affection he was well aware of. “Ethan, you truly have lived up to our long years of friendship.” Just then, the delivery arrived. I snatched one of the milk teas, stabbed a straw into it, and took a long, satisfying gulp. Serena looked like she was about to leap out of bed, desperately trying to get Ethan to stop me. I licked the sweet foam from my lips with a smile and took a large bite of the cake. “Ethan,” I said, my voice deceptively sweet. “We’re such good friends. You don’t mind if I have some of your food, do you?” You two destroyed me. I will make sure neither of you gets a happy ending. As I turned to leave, my smile vanished, replaced by a mask of cold fury. Once outside, I dialed my father’s number. “Dad,” I said, my voice firm. “The Miller family isn’t capable of handling those projects. We shouldn’t be giving them handouts anymore.” I took a deep breath. “I’ve thought it over. You were right. Ethan and I were never meant to be. I don’t want anything to do with him or his family ever again.” My parents were thrilled, their relief palpable even over the phone. A moment later, a notification popped up on my phone: a five-million-dollar transfer into my account. “Buy yourself whatever you want, sweetheart,” my dad said. “Our darling girl,” my mom added, her voice thick with love. “Everything we have is yours. We’d do anything for you, all you have to do is ask. All we want is for you to be happy.” My eyes stung, and I had to fight back tears. I tipped my head back, forcing them to recede. As I did, I caught my reflection in the glass and was stunned— I looked… thinner.

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My sister weighed three hundred pounds, and after she lost the weight, she weighed five pounds, box and all. My three-hundred-pound sister found a weight-loss camp online. They guaranteed they could turn her into a goddess in one month. I discovered the camp was an unlicensed, fly-by-night operation. After I pleaded with her, my sister finally gave up the idea. A month later, all the girls who went to the camp had transformed into slender beauties. The camp announced it was closing its doors. My sister had a complete breakdown. She blamed me for sabotaging her journey to beauty. She soaked all my clothes in industrial-grade pesticide. I died of multiple organ failure. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day my sister wanted to go to the weight-loss camp. 1. I opened my eyes to see my sister, Naomie, sprawled on the couch. She had a chicken leg in one hand and was scrolling through her phone with the other. The rolls of fat on her stomach jiggled with every laugh. “Mom! Mom! Come look, there’s a fitness boot camp here!” she shrieked. “They guarantee they can make me gorgeous in just one month!” My mom emerged from the kitchen with a plate of cupcakes and set them in front of Naomie. “Oh, sweetie, you’re not even fat. Why would you want to put yourself through all that trouble?” Naomie’s face fell. She started yelling at my mom, screaming that she didn’t understand anything, that all she ever did was cook for her, which was why she’d ended up like this. She wailed that because of her weight, the guy she had a crush on had been stolen from her. The camp cost ten thousand dollars for a one-month program. They only accepted women over two hundred pounds and offered a full refund if they didn’t lose weight. Naomie wrapped her arms around my mom, whining and pleading. She argued that even if she didn’t lose weight, there was no financial risk. My mom hesitated, then looked at me. “Raina, what do you think?” I snapped back to reality. In my previous life, my mom had asked me the same question. I’d grabbed my phone and looked up the boot camp Naomie had found. It was a brand-new company with no credentials, no online presence to speak of. Their announcement stated it was a one-time, one-month program. After that, they would suspend operations indefinitely. I knew immediately it was a scam. A classic cash-grab. How could they guarantee someone over two hundred pounds would get thin in a month? Naomie was pushing three hundred. She could barely walk a few steps without needing to rest. I told my mom all of this, urging them not to choose this company. If Naomie really wanted to lose weight, I would find her a legitimate, reputable program. They had reluctantly agreed. I found a top-rated camp for her, but Naomie lasted less than two weeks before complaining about how tired she was and coming home. A month later, the first camp released a video. The girls who had signed up, all over two hundred pounds, had been transformed into stunning beauties. They glowed with health, their cheeks rosy and full of life. The camp simultaneously announced the success of their program and that they were closing their doors, with no date set for reopening. My sister went ballistic. Her hatred for me became absolute. She was convinced I was the sole reason she’d missed her chance. One day, while I was out, she bought a bottle of industrial pesticide and soaked all of my clothes in it. I died in agony from multiple organ failure. And my parents, to protect Naomie, told everyone I had mistaken the pesticide for laundry detergent. They wept, clutching a photo of me at my funeral. “Raina, honey, we’ve already lost you. We can’t lose Naomie too.” “A big sister should always forgive her little sister. She knows she was wrong now. You’d forgive her, right?” “Besides, you can’t blame her entirely. If you had just let her go to that camp in the first place, none of this would have happened.” I pushed the thoughts away, hiding the hatred in my eyes behind a smile. “Naomie wants to lose weight,” I said brightly. “That’s a great thing.” 2. My mom blinked, then asked again, “Raina, you don’t think there’s anything wrong with this boot camp?” I tilted my head, feigning curiosity. “Mom, do you think there’s something wrong with it?” She wiped her hands on her apron and stood up with a smile. “What do I know about these things? You’re the one who went to college. You must know better than me.” The moment the words left her mouth, her face changed. She wrung her apron anxiously. Naomie’s face crumpled, the fat on her body quivering with rage. “Mom! What is that supposed to mean?! You’re looking down on me, aren’t you?! What’s so great about going to college?” “So she’s the college expert, and I don’t know anything, is that it?!” Two fat tears squeezed out of her tiny, puffy eyes. Sobbing, Naomie struggled off the couch and stormed into her room. The floorboards shook with each step. “College” was a forbidden word in our house. Ever since her crush was “stolen,” Naomie had lost all interest in school. She failed her college entrance exams and refused to retake them. Now, she just lay around at home, waiting for my mom to feed her. Naomie believed that if she were thin, there was nothing she couldn’t do. She was convinced that even Ivy League schools would be begging for her to attend. My mom shot me a disapproving look and clicked her tongue. “Why did you have to provoke your sister? She’s already so insecure, and you say something like that?” “And there’s no need for that boot camp anyway,” she continued. “You know how she is. She’ll be back in two or three days.” “You can tell her that at dinner.” She wiped her hands and went back to the kitchen. I watched her go, a cold smile on my face. My mom was always like this. She was afraid of Naomie’s anger, so she always pushed me to be the messenger, the one to break the bad news. The moment Naomie got upset, my mom would swoop in to play the peacemaker, throwing all the blame onto me. That’s why Naomie had always hated me. She was convinced I was deliberately trying to sabotage her. At lunch, Naomie brought up the boot camp again. “Mom, Dad, the deadline to sign up is the day after tomorrow!” she whined. “Hurry up and give me the money! Don’t you want me to get thin?!” My dad kept his head down, silent. My mom was frantically winking and making faces at me. I shoveled a few mouthfuls of rice into my mouth. “Mom, is there something wrong with your eye?” Before my mom could scold me, Naomie’s glare shot toward me like a dagger. My mom carefully chose her words. “Don’t rush, sweetie. We’ll have your sister look up the camp online later.” “It’s not that I don’t want to spend the money, it’s just… I trust your sister’s judgment more.” I quickly refused. “Mom, I don’t know anything about this stuff. If Naomie wants to go, just let her. It could be fun, right, Naomie?” 3. After lunch, my mom dragged me into my room. She demanded to know what I was playing at. I was about to ignore her, but then I saw a fleshy bulge in the crack of the doorway. Naomie was hiding, listening. “What’s wrong, Mom? If you don’t want Naomie to go, you can tell her yourself,” I said innocently. “I think it’s great that she’s motivated. Even if it’s just for fun, what’s the harm? They’ll refund the money anyway.” “So why won’t you let her go?” My mom’s temper flared. She slammed her hand on the table. “Don’t you get it? What kind of willpower does your sister have? Ten thousand dollars for a month, down the drain!” “Fun? A thousand, maybe. But ten thousand?! Are you going to pay for it?!” I pretended to hesitate. “If I had the money, I’d help her out. But I just started working, where am I going to get ten thousand dollars?” Bang. Naomie threw the door open, standing in the doorway, panting for breath. Her eyes were bloodshot, her teeth clenched. “So that’s it! You just don’t want to spend the money! You don’t want me to go!” “I’m so fat now, I might as well just die! I’ll go kill myself! Then you can save your precious money!” she howled, then thundered out of the apartment. My mom shot me a look of pure hatred. “Look what you’ve done.” “Naomie, sweetie, let me explain!” Naomie ran downstairs and collapsed onto the community lawn, wailing. Snot and tears smeared all over her clothes. This was her usual tactic. Whenever she didn’t get her way, she’d go downstairs and cry to the neighborhood gossips. And just like that, every busybody in the complex knew my mom was too cheap to spend ten thousand dollars on her daughter’s weight loss. I bought a soda and watched the show from a distance, thoroughly entertained. The neighborhood ladies surrounded my mom, clucking their tongues and lecturing her. “You really need to pay more attention to your child’s health. Look at little Naomie, she’s so big.” “It’s ten thousand now. If she needs surgery later, who knows how much it’ll cost.” “Exactly. And how is she supposed to find a boyfriend like this? It’s not like you’re short on money. Just let the girl have some fun.” At the mention of not finding a boyfriend, Naomie’s wails grew even louder. “My mom just doesn’t want me to get married! If I were thin, I could have any man I want!” The rolls of fat on her body shook with each sob. It was a ridiculous sight. My mom’s face cycled through shades of red and green. She tried to explain, but she was no match for the gossips. She was thoroughly shamed. She wanted to drag Naomie home to talk, but Naomie refused to move. Defeated, my mom had to give in. Right there, in front of everyone, she transferred the deposit through the website. Only then did Naomie wipe her tears and follow her home. My mom slammed her bedroom door and didn’t come out. Naomie couldn’t have cared less. She was happily browsing online for pretty dresses, already planning where she would go on a date with her dream guy in a month. 4. The next day, the boot camp called and said they needed to register in person. My mom took Naomie first thing in the morning. And she made me come along, to “see if there was anything fishy.” I had to laugh. Even if there was, I wouldn’t say a word. I had no intention of dying a slow, agonizing death in a hospital bed again. That kind of pain was seared into my brain, unforgettable. At the entrance to the camp, we were greeted by several muscular, handsome men. Naomie’s eyes were glued to them. She practically dragged my mom forward, sweating profusely after just a few steps. The director saw Naomie’s size and his eyes lit up. He rushed over as if he’d found a treasure. “This must be your daughter! Come, come, fill out the registration form.” I glanced at the form. It asked for the basics—name, age, ID number—but also for blood type and even date and time of birth. My mom looked confused. Why would a weight-loss camp need all that? The director explained it was part of their new, high-tech approach. Every program was custom-tailored. My mom looked at me. “Raina, you went to college. What do you think?” I shrugged. “I have no idea. Why don’t you call someone and ask?” Naomie was getting antsy. She scribbled down the information on the form. “Mom!” she yelled. “You promised! You can’t go back on your word!” There was also a confidentiality agreement and a refund policy. A full refund was guaranteed if she didn’t lose at least one hundred pounds in a month. Naomie didn’t even read it before signing her name. The director showered Naomie with compliments. He said her features were exquisite, her proportions perfect, her legs long. She would be a true beauty once she lost the weight. He didn’t stop there. He even took a jab at me. “This is your sister, right? I’m a brutally honest person, so please don’t be offended.” “Once you lose the weight, you’ll be much more beautiful than your sister.” “You’ll be the campus queen! Even A-list celebrities won’t compare. Men will be lining up, willing to pay a fortune just to meet you.” Naomie was floating on cloud nine. She shot me a triumphant, smug look. After all that flattery, there was no way my mom was going to make that phone call. Naomie cornered her, demanding she pay the full fee right then and there, threatening to jump off the building if she didn’t. After the payment was made, the director told her to pick a trainer. It turned out the handsome men at the door were all trainers. Naomie was spoiled for choice. She pouted and batted her eyelashes at the director. “It’s so hard to choose! I can’t decide. Can I have two?” The director’s smile twitched, but he was a professional. His expression remained perfectly composed. He made an “exception” and let Naomie have two trainers. As we were leaving, I deliberately lingered for a moment. I noticed the director was saying the exact same thing to every single person who signed up. 5. My mom was so angry when we got home that she refused to eat lunch. Naomie, of course, didn’t care. She hummed a tune as she packed her things. They were moving into the camp for a month. That afternoon, my mom was still fuming and sent me to take Naomie to the camp. When we got there, a few of the trainers started taking Naomie’s measurements. The director pulled me aside, going on and on about how great their program was. I was bored until I saw some live-streaming equipment inside. “What’s this?” The director gave me a mysterious smile and just told me to follow their social media account. He said their training would start tonight. When I got home that evening, my mom was looking at a picture of Naomie and wiping away tears. “My sweet Naomie is so pampered. Will she be able to manage without us? Will she miss her mommy?” I rolled my eyes. “If you miss her so much, why don’t you just go live with her at the camp?” Her eyes lit up, and she actually pulled out her phone. The call was answered by a stream of curses from Naomie. I went back to my room and opened the social media app. The account was already live. Naomie and the other girls were lined up. Above their heads were gift icons. A caption explained that whoever got the most votes would get to start their weight-loss journey first. The stream didn’t have many viewers, but there was a steady flow of votes. Naomie was the biggest, so she had the most votes. When the voting ended, Naomie was the winner. She started her live-streamed workout. I watched for a bit. It was no different from any other fitness stream. Just dancing and exercise. After only five minutes, Naomie was drenched in sweat, panting heavily. She cried out that she needed a break. They were surprisingly humane. They let Naomie rest and brought another girl up to do aerobics. I wondered, how could anyone lose two hundred pounds in a month like this? It was just a normal workout. It was impossible. Five minutes later, Naomie was back on camera. She didn’t say a word. She just diligently danced for half an hour. Even when she was dripping with sweat and so tired she could barely lift her arms, she didn’t ask for a break. This wasn’t Naomie’s style. Maybe they had threatened her, or promised her some incredible reward. But what did that have to do with me? She had brought this on herself. I watched the stream for two days but didn’t see anything else out of the ordinary. It was boring. There was one strange thing, though. The viewers who were sending gifts seemed to be the same few people every time. A week later, I opened the stream again. My eyes widened in disbelief. Was that really my three-hundred-pound sister? She had lost eighty pounds!

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At the Harvest Moon Gala, as music and light filled the palace, an unknown woman suddenly proclaimed, “The titans of old are dust, mythic empires rust… Legendary heroes are but shadows, while true glory burns in our time!” I nearly choked on my tea. I wanted to shake her—”Sister, wake up! This is a fictional world. No Roman Emperors, no Greek heroes, no Genghis Khan. See the reality!” The hall fell silent. Nobles exchanged baffled glances. The Emperor chuckled awkwardly, lost for words. Fifi Meadows stood smugly, hip cocked as if awaiting applause. Sighing, I curtsied to the Emperor. “Your Majesty, I feel drawn to Lady Fifi. May I take her into my household?” “Granted.” He gave me a knowing look while Fifi glared daggers at me. Another sigh. Of all fellow travelers from my world, why did it have to be a fool? 1 My name is Lashana Veyle. I am the Duchess of Sunstone in the Kingdom of Aethel. And for a fellow transmigrator, Fifi Meadows was a true spectacle of idiocy. I lived my new life on a razor’s edge. I was meticulously careful, never daring to reveal my modern sensibilities, never producing anything anachronistic, and certainly never claiming the poetry of my world’s long-dead masters as my own. Fifi, on the other hand, lectured everyone she met on the virtues of democracy and free speech. She held court in my own ducal manor, preaching about universal equality and forcing my handmaidens to dine at the same table as her. Her cultural knowledge seemed to be limited to a basic high school education; she recited half-remembered lines from Shakespeare and Frost over and over again. This, in itself, wasn’t a catastrophe. Confined to my manor, the staff simply concluded she was mad. Her shocking pronouncements wouldn’t travel beyond the walls. But the girl had no sense of self-preservation. One day, just as I was about to extend a hand of friendship, to call her ‘sister’ in our shared, secret language of displacement, she scowled at me. Her almond-shaped eyes narrowed. “Lashana Veyle, don’t think being a duchess makes you special. If you hadn’t stolen my thunder at the gala, I’d already be the most celebrated poet in the kingdom.” “…” Words failed me. I turned to leave. Some fools were beyond salvation. “Hey,” Fifi called out impatiently, puffing up like an arrogant peacock. “Where am I supposed to live?” Behind me, my two guards, Lyra and Vesper, clenched their fists, their knuckles white. They were just waiting for my order to march over and slap some sense into her. I swallowed my anger. “Take Lady Fifi to… the Rosewood Pavilion.” The Rosewood Pavilion was the most remote courtyard in the entire estate. Out of sight, out of mind. Her appointed maid later reported to me in secret, whispering that Fifi spent her days staring into the mirror, chanting, “Brave Fifi, fear no evil. I will be the Empress. The Empress is me.” The poor maid clung to my leg, weeping and begging me to reassign her. Coveting the Emperor’s throne was high treason, a crime punishable by a slow, agonizing death. She was terrified that when Fifi was inevitably executed, she’d be dragged down with her. I had to promise her, repeatedly, that even if Fifi charged the palace with a dagger, I could guarantee her safety. Only then did she release her grip on my leg. Fifi was so stunningly stupid, she must have been brainwashed by a self-help guru. I was drowning in my own duties. The Autumn Equinox was approaching, which meant new clothes and bonuses for the entire ducal staff. Then there was my mother’s family at Veyle Manor to attend to. My ten-year-old sister, Elara, had apparently defeated every other student at the Royal Academy in single combat, and I had to make personal apologies to a dozen noble houses. My father, suffering from gout, threw a tantrum every time I restricted his diet, threatening to join a monastery. My brother, Cassian, had fallen for the top courtesan at the Gilded Cage and was currently being disciplined by his wife, a formidable woman from a mercenary guild… what a harmonious, picture-perfect family. Fifi burst into my study without knocking, rolling her eyes dramatically. “My, my, Duchess, what airs you put on. You actually dared to keep me waiting for a whole ten minutes.” I ignored her, my eyes fixed on the ledgers. My handmaiden, Jade, couldn’t hold back. “My lady is the Duchess of Sunstone, favored by the Emperor himself!” she fumed. “Even royal princes and the Emperor’s own consorts show her respect! Who do you think you are, waltzing in here without so much as a curtsy?” Fifi rolled her eyes again. “I act this way in front of the Emperor, too. What are you going to do about it?” I had to smile at that. The Emperor was famously magnanimous, never sweating the small stuff. And this fool mistook his tolerance for a license to be reckless. Ignoring Jade’s ferocious glare, Fifi plopped down in the chair opposite me, slouching gracelessly and helping herself to the pastries on my desk. I shot a sharp look at Jade. She understood immediately and led the other servants from the room. Only then did I raise my eyes to truly study Fifi. She had a delicate, girl-next-door beauty, but she was draped in gaudy crimson silks and glittering jewels that clashed horribly, making her look like a parody of a noblewoman. Sensing my gaze, she preened, flicking her hair. “The Emperor is deeply in love with me,” she stated with absolute certainty. “It’s useless for you to keep me locked up in here. You’d be wise to let me go. Otherwise, when His Majesty’s wrath descends, you won’t be able to handle the consequences.” 2 Fifi’s earnest conviction left me speechless. The imperial court was a nest of vipers. With the Empress’s throne empty, the two most powerful consorts—Lady Thea, the Emperor’s childhood sweetheart, and Lady Cora, sister to the formidable Prince Regent—were locked in a battle to the death. They used lower-ranking ladies-in-waiting as pawns in their schemes, discarding them without a second thought. Young women were sent into the palace like fresh flowers and came out as bleached bones. Any sensible girl, upon hearing she was chosen for the court, would sooner throw herself down a well. The Emperor’s handsome face meant nothing when your life was on the line. Three years ago, I’d taken an assassin’s arrow for the Emperor. He claimed it was love at first sight and, breaking all precedent, made me a Duchess. He had hinted, and then outright stated, on multiple occasions that he wanted me in his palace. I refused every time. The so-called “true love” offered by a man with a harem of hundreds was cheap. I had assumed this was a shared sentiment among transmigrators. Fifi, however, was a testament to the sheer diversity of our species. Not only was she champing at the bit to dive into the court intrigue, but she’d also developed a full-blown delusion that the Emperor was passionately in love with her. I couldn’t wrap my head around it. I prided myself on my eloquence, my ability to talk my way out of any situation. But looking at Fifi, all I could think was: my native tongue is stunned silence. A few days ago, Fifi had managed to sneak out and position herself along the Emperor’s procession route. She’d put on a grand performance, weeping and pleading with him. I don’t know what she said, but she somehow convinced him to name her a Baroness and grant her half of my own ducal estate. Fifi was now absolutely insufferable, puffed up with pride like a balloon. She marched around my gardens, pointing at the ancient plum trees and the vibrant azaleas. The plums, she declared, were bad luck because their name sounded like the word for “misfortune.” The azaleas were unlucky, their crimson blossoms reminding her of blood. And the Emperor indulged her. He ordered the trees cut down and the flowers uprooted. She said she wanted a high place from which to gaze at the moon, so he immediately commissioned the construction of a “Stargazer’s Tower.” Whispers in the capital grew louder: the Emperor had been bewitched by a siren. Countless scholars scribbled angry poems on my manor walls, cursing her. From time to time, people would even fling dung at the gates. One day, I almost got beaten by a mob that mistook me for her. She, however, wore this infamy like a badge of honor. She ordered the poems collected into an anthology, claiming she wanted to “preserve them for posterity.” She spun around like a hedgehog, pricking everyone she met. The worst was when she stormed into Princess Aurelia’s estate and mocked the princess for her unrequited love for a certain Marquis, accusing her of being unchaste. This was beyond foolish. Princess Aurelia wasn’t just anyone. She was the Emperor’s beloved younger sister, the jewel of the kingdom, a peerless beauty celebrated for her kindness, intelligence, and skill with a sword. From the lowliest street vendor to the Emperor and the Prince Regent themselves, no one would dare speak a harsh word to Aurelia. If Aurelia so much as frowned, the heart of the nation would break. Chastity? Aurelia didn’t need to follow the rules of chastity. Aurelia could rewrite the rules of chastity. When I rushed to the princess’s estate, I found Fifi hanging upside down from a tree, swinging like a grotesque piñata. The sight was deeply satisfying. But I had to plaster a somber expression on my face and beg Aurelia to let her down. Aurelia, a dear friend of mine, furiously threw her sword to the ground. “Lashana, have you lost your mind? I’ve seen my share of baronesses and duchesses, but never one so arrogant and stupid. Why are you keeping this lunatic in your house?” I curtsied deeply. “Your Highness, I truly don’t know what purpose she serves. But she is, after all, a Baroness created by the Emperor himself. If she were to die like this… I fear His Majesty would hold me accountable.” “Get out,” Aurelia snapped, waving a dismissive hand. “Of course, Your Highness. Thank you, Your Highness.” I had my people escort Fifi back to my manor and went straight to the palace. My main concern was the Emperor’s mental state. He could be a bastard, but he was a wise ruler. He never let personal feelings cloud his judgment on matters of state. It was impossible that he would disregard law and reason for a woman. When his feelings for me were at their peak, I was framed by the Prince Regent and thrown in prison. He knew I was innocent, yet he kept me locked up for two weeks until he had irrefutable proof to clear my name publicly. The idea that he was “bewitched by lust” was laughable. 3 “Lashana, you came.” In the imperial study, the brilliant young emperor put down his vermilion brush, his face lighting up with surprise as he took my hand. It was true; I never sought him out voluntarily, not even when my life was on the line. I performed the formal curtsy and delicately brought up the incident with Princess Aurelia. The Emperor just smiled and asked an unrelated question. “Lashana, have you ever heard of the scholar Sir Malcom from the previous dynasty?” I maintained my respectful, distant tone. “I have not, Your Majesty.” He gently tapped my nose and pulled me closer to his side. “Sir Malcom was a genius of his time. With a pen, he could govern the world; on a horse, he could conquer it. He redesigned the river levees and built reservoirs, saving sixteen cities from devastating floods. He claimed to be a ‘traveler’ from another world. He refused all titles and rewards, choosing to live in seclusion with his family. I suspect… that Lady Fifi may be his descendant. Or perhaps… she is a traveler, too. She can recite Sir Malcom’s poetry.” “Which poem?” “‘The world is a vast and fleeting stage, our time a flickering light; why rush and rage? Our lives are a struggle, a contest of might, yet we forget that fortune is fickle, our gains ever slight. See the autumn wind in the golden valley, the cold moon on the midnight river, the palaces of old now silent and chilly, the bronze pavilions now dust forever. Glory is but dew on a flower, wealth is frost on the grass; see through the illusion of power, and all your worries will pass.’” My heart twisted. Had I known that reciting a simple poem was all it took to win the Emperor’s favor, why did I have to throw myself in front of that arrow? It had pierced my left shoulder, and to this day, the arm is weak, aching with a deep, grinding pain on cold, rainy days. I didn’t recite the rest of the poem to reveal my identity. I just asked, my voice flat, “What is it you hope to gain, Your Majesty?” The Emperor’s smile was clear and bright, his eyes filled with the pride of a man who held the world in his hands. “If she is Sir Malcom’s descendant, her title is justified. If she is a traveler, then even if she seems useless now, she will inevitably contribute to the kingdom in the future. Either way, it’s a sound investment.” I sighed silently. As a transmigrator, I couldn’t cure all diseases. I couldn’t invent cement, glass, or soap. I couldn’t smelt steel. In my past life, I’d spent seven years studying medical imaging—a field utterly useless here. All I had was a bit of basic medical knowledge, which was better than nothing, but not by much. The Emperor, full of vigor, tossed a book to his head eunuch. “Take this collection of forbidden poems to the Royal Scribes,” he commanded with a laugh. “Have them copy it. I want a volume in the hands of every official in every province. And issue my decree: anyone, man or woman, old or young, who can recite these poems is to be arrested and brought to me.” A profound chill washed over me. Fifi was bait. The Emperor was fishing for people like me. The more foolish and arrogant she acted, the more he showered her with favor, the more believable the story that our kingdom welcomed transmigrators would become. The ruse had almost tempted me, a woman who wanted for nothing. What about our other countrymen, lost and struggling just to survive in this strange world? The Emperor leaned close, his breath warm against my ear. His voice was a soft, dangerous murmur. “If these travelers serve Aethel, they will be rewarded. If they do not… they will be eliminated. To crush any future dissent, to protect the foundations of my throne.” His words were as gentle as a spring breeze, but I felt as if I’d been plunged into a frozen lake. The way he bit down on the word “eliminated” was heavy with intent. Thank God I had always been so cautious, never revealing myself. But the Emperor was clever enough to connect an old dynasty’s scholar to Fifi through a single poem, to deduce her origins, and to quietly compile an anthology to hunt down every last one of us for his own use. Fifi’s title was a sugar-coated poison pill. What about my duchy? Was I truly so flawless in my disguise? And even if he had already discovered me, was my loyalty not enough? Was this his way of telling me to confess? I had no idea how many people he would catch. In my five years here, I had only ever met one other transmigrator, Kaelen, and one “aberration,” Orion. Fifi didn’t count. She wasn’t worthy. In my eyes, Fifi was as dumb as a pig. But I had to wonder… in the Emperor’s eyes, was I the real fool? 4 Leaving the palace, I ran into Prince Kaelen. He hopped into my carriage with easy familiarity, a teasing smile on his face. “Lashana, my friend. You, I, and Lady Fifi are all… you know. You’ve always been so kind and warm. Why are you and she like fire and water? Could it be… you’re jealous?” Kaelen was my best friend. His current identity was that of a hostage prince from a small, conquered kingdom. He lived his life in Aethel walking on eggshells, cautious to a fault, never saying a wrong word, never making a wrong move. He was even more useless than me. In his past life, he was a programmer. I lifted the carriage curtain, glanced outside, then leaned close to Kaelen’s ear and told him everything that had happened in the study. He broke out in a cold sweat, his already pale, scholarly face turning as white as a sheet. “We have to go,” he hissed. “We can’t stay in the capital. We have to run.” “Fine,” I said calmly. “But you might want to put the knife down first.” The blade I held against his throat pressed a fraction of an inch deeper. He sighed. “You’re a Duchess, and I’m a royal hostage. We can never leave this city. Don’t be afraid, Lashana. The Emperor loves you. He would never kill you. Last month you tore up an imperial edict naming you his consort, and you threw the Imperial Seal at him during an argument. He didn’t punish you at all. His love for you is as deep as the sea.” I laughed, a cold, bitter sound. “Deep as the sea? How many women are in his harem? Just because he claims to love me, I’m supposed to lock myself in that gilded cage? I’m not someone who can be imprisoned in the name of love. Besides, do you think Lady Thea and Lady Cora are easy to deal with? He can protect me ten times, a hundred times, but can he protect me for a lifetime? And we argued because he wanted to marry Elara off to the barbarian king of the Sunstone Isles. Elara is ten, Kaelen! Ten! I will never accept that.” “Never?” “Never!” Kaelen stared at me, then a slow smile spread across his face, his eyes shining. “Alright. I’ll get you out of here. After all, who knows what the Emperor expects from us? If he thinks we can move mountains or bring the dead back to life… we’d be better off dead. I promised I’d help you escape, and I won’t break my word. This is a serious matter; we need a long-term plan. Promise me, until then, you won’t panic. You won’t do anything reckless. Wait for me.” “Okay.” The maid from the Rosewood Pavilion reported that Fifi had been talking to herself again, convinced she was going mad. “Are you sure this is a sweet romance plot? Shouldn’t the heroine in a sweet romance just sit there while men fall all over her? Why do I only have the Emperor? Where are my second and third male leads?” “That cannon fodder Duchess is always making trouble for me. I complained to the Emperor, but he ignored me. I don’t want him as the male lead. He’s not worthy.” “I almost got killed by Princess Aurelia today. What a disaster. Grinding for points is so hard. Good thing I’m the protagonist and can’t die, or I’d be done for.” I stood silently outside her window. This whole unscientific business of transmigration had forcibly converted me from a staunch materialist to something else entirely. I was open to anything now. Reincarnation, cultivation, system interfaces… bring it on. My ‘aberration’ friend had been reborn ten times. He called himself Orion, a name he chose because it sounded like “aura of nothingness.” My old friend Orion wasn’t driven by any grand obsession; he was just immune to the waters of forgetfulness between lives. He had no special powers, but his mental state was… unique. His heart was like deadwood, utterly devoid of worldly desires. He didn’t work, didn’t marry, didn’t read, didn’t practice martial arts. Nominally a servant in my manor, he did absolutely nothing. He dressed like a beggar and spent his days lying on the roof, sunbathing and stargazing. When I felt overwhelmed, I’d bring wine and food up to the roof and listen to him talk about nihilism and Schopenhauer. I entered Fifi’s room, dismissed the maid, and prepared to have a serious talk with her. Before I could say a word, she started babbling. 5 “Let me tell you something,” she began, her eyes wide. “We’re all just characters in a book. You’re the cannon fodder rival, and I’m the female lead. I’m destined to marry the Emperor, become the Empress, and rule the world.” I laughed. The female lead was supposed to be a devastating beauty who weaponized her looks, or a lucky charm who stumbled into success, or a brilliant strategist, a female Zhuge Liang. Even a useless, clinging vine type had the skill to charm a man into doing her bidding. Even a villainess had to be ruthless and beautiful, with a knack for poison and a talent for scheming. “No protagonist is as stupid as you,” I said with contempt. She just grinned. “Hahahaha! That’s because I have a point system! Every poem written to curse me earns me one point. Offending a commoner gets me ten. Offending Princess Aurelia? That got me a hundred thousand points! A hundred thousand!” My already fragile worldview took another major hit. What kind of garbage system was this, rewarding someone for making enemies? Was that a sustainable growth model? Was the ultimate prize a choice between a silken cord, a dagger, and a cup of poison? She sat on her bed, looking at me like a smug child. “And you? You’ll be sent as a political bride to the Sunstone Isles. You’ll die in humiliation on the way. Prince Kaelen will try to retrieve your body, get trapped in a swamp, and his bones will never be found.” I silently rolled my eyes. “Don’t you believe me?” she said. “The Emperor is already sick of you. He’s just using you to pave my way. It was love at first sight for him. He’s completely smitten. Why else would he break all the rules to make me a Baroness?” Looking at Fifi’s unwavering conviction, I felt a deep sense of regret. Why did I think I could have a rational conversation with a lunatic? Wasting time is wasting life. I said nothing, gave her one last look of profound pity, and turned to leave. She leaped off the bed and blocked my path, speaking to the empty air. “System A, I want to use one million points to redeem the Pill of Absolute Obedience.” In the blink of an eye, a small pill materialized in her hand. She grabbed my chin, a vicious smile spreading across her face, and tried to force it into my mouth. “Swallow this, and you’ll have to do everything I say. It was worth offending all those people to finally get something useful.” CRACK. Fifi crumpled to the floor. I had grabbed the nearest vase and smashed it over her head. The Veyle family had a strong martial tradition. My shoulder injury prevented me from serious training, but I could still handle at least three pampered noblewomen in a fight. I glanced down at her unconscious form and, mimicking her, spoke to the empty air with a string of creative curses. “So you’re the fucking ‘System,’ huh? Let me show you what happens when a human decides to defy fate. Characters in a book? My ass! Did it ever occur to you to tell your host that scheming without the strength to back it up is just asking for a beating?”

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Zoey always said she was a creature of deep, abiding love. But on the day her first love was diagnosed with terminal cancer, she handed me a pill designed to erase my memories. “Cary,” she pleaded, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears, “Leo is dying. Just give me three days. It’s his dying wish—a wedding.” “I won’t let it hurt you,” she promised, her voice a soft, persuasive whisper. “This pill causes temporary amnesia. After the wedding, you’ll take the antidote, you’ll love me again, and we can get remarried. It’ll be like nothing ever happened.” Staring at the resolute set of her jaw, I took the pill from her palm and swallowed it without a second thought. What Zoey didn’t know is that I was the one who developed this drug. And there is no cure. In three days, I will have forgotten her completely. 1 As we stepped out of City Hall, the divorce papers feeling flimsy and unreal in my hand, Zoey glanced at her watch. “The drug will kick in in two minutes,” she said, her tone meticulously practical. “For the next three days, you’ll forget you ever loved me. And once you take the antidote, you won’t remember any of this, so there’s no chance of you getting hurt.” She reached out, her fingers cool against my cheek. “Our divorce is just a formality, a temporary measure. When this is over, we’ll be together again. You’re the only man I’ll ever truly call my husband, Cary. You know that.” I watched her in silence, the bitter truth a stone in my throat. There would be no reunion. As the drug’s lead researcher, I knew its true nature all too well. It didn’t wipe your memory clean in an instant. It was a slow erosion, a creeping tide that washed away the memories of your most beloved, piece by agonizing piece. And the antidote she spoke of? It didn’t exist. Not yet. But she was blissfully unaware. “Are you sure you won’t regret this?” I asked, my voice barely a whisper. A fond smile touched her lips as she ruffled my hair. “Leo has loved me for so many years. His only wish is to have a wedding with me. How can I say no? And no, I won’t regret doing what’s right.” She framed my face with her hands. “Cary, you’ve always been the kindest, most understanding man I know. There’s no need to be jealous of a dying man. Once this is all over, we’ll go right back to our happy life.” A humorless smile twisted my lips. I let the acidic wave of sorrow wash over me, saying nothing more. I remembered the year we were most in love. I’d landed a major account for her, drinking myself sick until I was vomiting blood. She’d stayed up all night fighting to get my stolen research back, pushing herself until she developed a heart arrhythmia. Later, I’d teased her. “What if I get old and my memory goes? What if I forget you?” Her eyes had instantly reddened. She’d crushed her lips to mine in a fierce, desperate kiss. “Cary, I love you,” she’d choked out. “Promise me you’ll never forget me. I think I’d go mad.” And now, hearing that her old flame had cancer, she was the one orchestrating my forgetting. Divorcing me, feeding me a pill to erase every trace of our life together. She wanted to give him three days of her love, I guessed. A perfect, untarnished love, free from the inconvenient existence of a husband. An exclusive, complete devotion. But if she was brave enough to betray me so openly, why bother with the charade of a future reunion? I let out a dry, self-mocking laugh. Suddenly, a sharp pain lanced through my skull. My body swayed, and I pitched forward. Zoey’s reflexes were sharp; she caught me, her beautiful eyes filled with a sudden, deep concern. “Are you okay? What’s wrong? If you’re scared… if you’re worried I won’t come back, I can give you the divorce certificate, all the papers. You can hold onto them.” I pushed myself upright, blinking at her with what I hoped was a look of genuine confusion. “What divorce certificate?” Zoey froze, then her expression shifted. “Cary,” she said, her voice cautious, “we just got divorced. Do you remember?” “Divorced?” Seeing the blank look on my face, a flicker of something—relief? joy?—danced in her eyes before she could hide it. My gaze fell to the papers still clutched in my hand. I understood. The drug was starting to work. The first memory to go was the most recent, most painful one: our divorce. Zoey quickly snatched the certificate from my grasp, as if afraid I’d see her name next to mine. She softened her voice, weaving a new reality. “Cary, I’m your sister. You’ve been ill, you’ve lost some of your memories. I’ll keep these important documents safe for you.” I looked up, meeting her darting, evasive eyes, and said nothing to challenge the lie. Fine. If she wanted to play a part, I would play along. Just then, a low voice called out. “Zoey! There you are.” I turned to see Leo jogging toward us. He stumbled on an uneven paving stone, lurching forward. In a heartbeat, Zoey dropped my arm and lunged to steady him. The sudden release sent me stumbling backward into the hard brick wall of the building. My head, already throbbing with a needle-like pain, exploded in a fresh wave of agony. Leo clung to Zoey’s hand, his arm snaking around her waist as he flashed a triumphant smile. “Thanks for catching me, Zoey.” Realization dawned on her face. She blanched, pushing him away as her gaze snapped back to me. “Cary! Are you hurt? I’m so sorry, Leo’s sick… if he falls and starts bleeding, it might not stop. I had to catch him first.” I had already straightened up, brushing the dust from my jacket and swallowing the pain. “I’m fine.” Leo stepped closer again, his hand finding Zoey’s arm, his voice a conspiratorial whisper. “Zoey, what took you so long? It’s just a divorce. I was waiting forever.” Noticing my stare, Zoey cleared her throat, her guilt palpable. But she didn’t pull her arm away. “It’s done,” she said to him. “We can focus on the wedding now.” Leo’s face lit up. He shot me a smug, victorious glance. “Cary, your sister and I have been in love for five years. We’re finally getting married. The wedding is in three days. You have to be there.” I forced a smile. “It’s my sister’s wedding. Of course, I’ll be there.” His grin widened. “Great. You can be our photographer. Make sure you get a perfect shot of me and Zoey kissing at the altar…” “Leo,” Zoey cut in, her voice sharp with warning. She looked at me, a strange flicker of disappointment in her eyes when she found no trace of pain in mine. “He doesn’t need to come to our wedding.” My expression remained placid. Seeing Zoey defend me, Leo’s brow furrowed. He suddenly sagged against her, burying his face in the crook of her neck. “Zoey,” he whimpered, “my heart… it hurts. I can’t breathe.” Instantly, all her attention was on him, her eyes wide with alarm. “Is it happening again? Just hold on, I’ll get you to the hospital.” She glanced back at me, her voice low. “Cary, do you remember the way home? Should I have someone drive you?” I shook my head. “I remember.” She hesitated. The staff at the clinic had told her the drug only erased memories of a loved one, leaving everything else intact. The thought that I was her greatest love, the one being erased, seemed to momentarily soothe her. “Okay. You go on home, then. I’m taking Leo to the hospital.” With that, she guided a leaning, weakened Leo to her car. He kept his arm draped around her shoulders, his voice faint but clear. “Zoey, to be held by you like this, out in the open… even if I died right now, it would all be worth it.” “Don’t say such foolish things,” she chided gently. Through the car window, I watched as she leaned over to fasten his seatbelt. He suddenly wrapped an arm around her neck, pulling her close and pressing a soft kiss to her earlobe. The intimate, tender gesture sent a blade of ice through my heart. The sting of betrayal, sharp and undeniable. Her car sped away, leaving me in a cloud of exhaust. A moment later, my phone rang. “Mr. Reed,” a voice with a French accent said, “The Moreau Institute in Paris has prepared your orientation. We look forward to welcoming you in three days.” 2 I hung up and went home, only to find the apartment stripped bare, a hollowed-out shell of what it once was. Zoey and I had designed this place together. This was supposed to be our forever home, our cozy little sanctuary. Now, the tea set we’d designed, the art we’d chosen, every single object that held a memory of her was gone. She must have been terrified of me remembering our past. She’d even dug up the flowerbeds on the balcony, turning over the soil where we’d planted roses together, erasing even the roots of our shared past. Staring at the crushing emptiness, a bitter smile touched my lips. Zoey, in all your careful planning, were you more afraid of my pain, or were you afraid I’d remember everything and crash your perfect wedding? If you knew there was no cure, that my memories of you would be gone forever, would you feel a single shred of regret? I slipped my wedding ring off my finger. I wrote her a letter, sealed it in an envelope with the ring, and tucked it deep into the loose soil of one of the empty planters. Just then, my phone rang again. It was my best friend, Ryan. He hesitated before speaking. “Cary… man, I have to tell you something. I think Zoey’s cheating on you. I just saw her outside the hospital, all over some other guy.” “I know,” I said, my voice flat. “It doesn’t matter. Let her be.” Ryan was stunned by my calm. “Cary? Are you… are you okay?” His genuine panic almost made me laugh. “Why wouldn’t I be? Zoey and I are divorced.” “DIVORCED?!” I gave him the short, brutal version of the story. When I told him I’d taken the pill, a string of curses erupted from the other end of the line. “That son of a bitch! And her—what a piece of work! To marry that guy, she’d really stoop to anything. You gave up that research position in Paris to be with her! Half of her success, she owes to you! And now she does this, for him? And she has the gall to say she’s doing it so you won’t feel pain? Who the hell does she think she is?” Finally, a sliver of pain broke through my numbness, and my face grew pale. Five years ago, when Zoey was at her lowest, I married her without a second thought. I used every connection I had to pull her company back from the brink of bankruptcy. Back then, she would hold me tight every night, whispering in my ear that I was her forever. But somewhere along the way, things had changed. Her heart had found room for someone else. She forgot my sacrifices and started demanding that I be tolerant, that I forgive her “compassion” for Leo. Is it so hard to love one person, and one person only? Because I managed it just fine. Ryan, having exhausted his vocabulary of insults, took a deep breath. “I’m telling you, she is going to regret this for the rest of her life. Divorcing you, drugging you… she’ll be kicking herself forever.” He scoffed. “She has no idea you never finished the antidote, does she? Good. Let her suffer. And you… you’re finally free.” My eyes drifted to the planter where I’d hidden the letter. I knew Zoey’s habits better than my own. When she was upset, she’d drink a glass of wine on the balcony. If, when I was gone, she truly felt regret, she would find it. Late that night, I heard her come in. She was rummaging through the closet in my room. “What are you doing?” Her movements froze. She turned to see me standing in the doorway in my pajamas. She frowned, pulling a scarf from her own neck and wrapping it around mine. “It’s freezing in here. Why are you dressed so lightly?” I ignored her question. “Are you looking for something?” “Yeah,” she said, avoiding my eyes. “I need to borrow your suit. For Leo. He wants to wear it at the wedding.” She paused, then added, “You might not remember. It’s the one you wore for our wedding.” I stared at her, my silence a heavy weight in the room. Of course I hadn’t forgotten. She had designed it for me herself. Two whole months, from the first sketch to the final stitch. A couture piece that was practically priceless. All because I had once casually mentioned, “I wish I had a suit that was one-of-a-kind.” And now, she was taking that suit, made for me, to dress another man for his wedding. The absurdity of it was almost comical. I decided to press her. “Is this suit really that important? Why does it have to be this one?” My question seemed to stir a memory. Her hands stilled for a fraction of a second. The day she’d finished it, she had told me, “This suit, Cary, will only ever belong to you.” I watched her, waiting. She hesitated for only a moment before speaking. “It was designed by a master artisan. It’s the only one in the world. Leo loves it, and it’s his dream to get married in it.” Seeing my gaze drop, she added quickly, “Don’t worry. I’ll bring it right back after the wedding. And then… whatever you want, just ask. I’ll get it for you.” The same smooth, practiced lies. Another blow landed squarely on my heart. On our wedding day, her eyes had never left me. Afterward, she had carefully stored the suit away as if it were a sacred relic. “Why are you so careful with it?” I had laughed. She had looked at me with sincere, earnest eyes. “Because you gave this suit its meaning. I want to preserve that memory forever.” But now, because Leo “liked it,” she was handing it over without a second thought. The suit, once a treasured symbol, was now just a tool to appease another man. “It’s late. You should get some sleep. I have to go out again,” Zoey said, oblivious to the storm inside me. She took the suit and left. I pulled the scarf from my neck and let it fall to the floor. I looked at the empty space in the closet, a hollow ache of disappointment and sorrow filling my chest. It’s okay, I told myself, talking to the suit as much as to myself. Just like me, once she’s done cleaning house, everything will be fine. It was just another form of being thrown away. Once my memory was wiped clean, I could finally let go. As the thought crossed my mind, another vicious spike of pain shot through my head. And just like that, another huge piece of my memory vanished, pulling me violently from the depths of my grief. 3 The next day, Ryan called to tell me Zoey was throwing herself into wedding preparations for Leo. The scale of it, he said, was on par with the wedding she’d had with me. I nodded thoughtfully. For someone so busy, she still managed to have three meals a day delivered to my door. Spreading the love so evenly… it must have been exhausting for her. On the day of the wedding, Ryan took me to the venue. We sat in a corner, far from the main crowd. The ceremony hadn’t started yet. I could see Zoey and Leo, arms linked, surrounded by a laughing group of groomsmen. “I remember when Zoey and Cary had a wedding this big,” one of them said loudly. “Damn, I never thought our boy Leo would be so lucky, marrying such a knockout.” At the mention of my name, Leo’s hand tightened on Zoey’s. Zoey spoke up, her voice clear and firm. “Cary and I are divorced. Today is about Leo. Let’s not bring up the past.” Hearing her so decisively cut ties, another groomsman whistled. “Leo’s young, handsome, and brilliant. Cary Reed never stood a chance.” “Zoey, you better take good care of our boy for the rest of his life. Don’t you dare break his heart.” Zoey smiled sweetly, the same smile she’d given me when she made her vows. “Don’t worry,” she promised. “I won’t let him down. And he won’t let me down.” My gaze darkened. Beside me, Ryan was gritting his teeth. “What a twisted sense of morality. Since when is the other man celebrated for winning?” In the distance, someone started a chant. “It’s a beautiful day! How about a kiss for the happy couple!” The groomsmen joined in, a chorus of rowdy shouts. “Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!” Leo stared at Zoey, his expression a perfect mask of adoration. Under the mounting pressure, Zoey raised a hand to his jaw, then stood on her toes and pressed a soft, lingering kiss near the corner of his lips. The crowd erupted in cheers. In the midst of the roaring celebration, all I felt was a profound, echoing silence. She couldn’t guard her heart. Now, she couldn’t even guard her body. A mocking smile played on my lips. Thank God for the memory loss. The pain was already so much duller. Just then, my phone screen lit up. A boarding notification for my flight. “Ryan,” I said, standing up. “It’s time for me to go.” He pulled me into a fierce hug, his eyes red. “Go. Leave all this garbage behind and go be brilliant. I’ll be waiting to see you celebrated around the world.” He grinned mischievously. “As for this party… don’t worry. I’ve got a wedding gift for them.” “See you, man.” I clapped him on the shoulder, not bothering to ask what he had planned. In half an hour, the last of my memories of loving Zoey would be gone anyway. I walked away, pulling my suitcase behind me. As Zoey and Leo stood hand-in-hand, her eyes scanned the room and for a second, I thought she saw me. A flash of panic crossed her face. But she must have dismissed it. If I were here, I’d be attending as her “brother.” I wouldn’t be slipping out the back with a suitcase. She must have imagined it. The lights in the hall dimmed. Zoey and Leo stood center stage, exchanging rings under the spotlight, gazing at each other with saccharine sweetness. The crowd began to chant for another kiss. Suddenly, a massive banner unfurled from the ceiling above them. Ryan stood beneath it, holding a megaphone, a smirk on his face. “A toast!” he boomed, his voice echoing through the silent hall. “To the happy couple—the homewrecker Leo and the lying cheat Zoey! May your lives together be long and utterly miserable!” Leo’s face went white as he stared helplessly at Zoey. Recognizing Ryan, Zoey’s face hardened with fury. “What the hell are you talking about? Cary and I are divorced! Leo is not a homewrecker!” Ryan let out a cold, harsh laugh. “You want to have your cake and eat it too, don’t you? You can’t let go of your ex-husband, but you still have to give this guy his fantasy wedding. You told Cary to wait for you, to remarry you! Do you have any idea how much pain you’ve put him through these last three days?” Zoey’s eyes turned to ice. “You don’t need to worry about that. I gave Cary the memory drug. He won’t remember a thing.” “You idiot,” Ryan spat. “The drug doesn’t work instantly. It takes three full days for the memories of a loved one to disappear completely. Every single thing you’ve done, every lie you’ve told, every moment with him—Cary saw it all.” Ryan tilted his chin up, his eyes filled with contempt. “And here’s something else you don’t know. Who do you think was the lead researcher on that drug? It was Cary. Your ex-husband.”

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On the way to finalize our divorce, Liam and I were hit by a truck. Just before I lost consciousness, I heard him whisper, “If I could do it all over, I would’ve said yes when Ashley confessed her love.” “To live a life full of passion with her… that’s the life I’ve always wanted.” When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day of our engagement party. Just like last time, Ashley stood there, holding a bouquet, asking Liam if he would choose her. Without a single glance at me, Liam took the ring and knelt before Ashley. “Ashley, I love you. Will you marry me?” I knew then that he had been reborn, too. So, I let them have their moment. He got his wish, a life of freedom and passion with Ashley. But later, he came crawling back, kneeling before me, begging through tears for me to marry him again. 1 Ashley was stunned by the sudden turn of events. When Liam asked again, tears of joy streamed down her face. “Yes, I will!” They embraced tightly, completely oblivious to the icy tension that had gripped the room. All eyes were on me. I took off my veil, tossed it aside, and watched the deeply in love couple with a cold, detached gaze. Liam led Ashley onto the stage and took the microphone. “Today was supposed to be my engagement party,” he announced. “But standing up here, I’ve realized that the person I truly love is Ashley.” “I’ve let her slip through my fingers too many times. This time, I won’t make the same mistake. I want to spend the rest of my life with her!” No one in the room applauded their whirlwind romance. Liam finally looked at me, his voice devoid of all emotion. “I wasn’t thinking clearly before. If you want compensation, I can give you five hundred thousand. I hope you’ll stay out of my life from now on.” His eyes were cold and numb, a reflection of the twenty years of marriage that had worn him down in our past life. But when he looked at Ashley, his eyes burned with the same passion he’d had in his twenties. We had dated for three years before deciding to get engaged. The moment I said yes, he had announced it to everyone we knew. We were showered with blessings from all sides, with one exception: Ashley. She was his junior in college and had fallen for him at first sight. She orchestrated “chance” encounters all over campus, and after graduation, she found ways to stay close to him. Whenever she saw me, she’d flash a bright, provocative smile. “You’re not married yet,” she’d say. “I’m not giving up. I’ll make him see that life has more than one path!” I was always unsettled by her presence, but Liam would just pull me into his arms and coldly reject her. In our past life, to prove his unwavering commitment to me, he had rushed to hold the engagement party right after proposing. Ashley had shown up at that party, too, wearing a stunning wedding gown. She looked beautiful yet fragile, her gaze fixed stubbornly on Liam. “Liam,” she had declared, “this is the last time I’ll confess my feelings to you. If you reject me again, I will disappear from your world forever!” In that life, Liam had taken my hand, knelt, and placed the ring on my finger, his actions a silent, final rejection of Ashley. But this time, he took Ashley’s hand and confessed his love to her in front of everyone. As the room remained frozen in a stunned silence, I simply took a step back and let them steal my spotlight. Only after their passionate declarations were over did I speak, my voice calm and even. “I wish you both the best. Liam, I hope we never see each other again.” 2 Liam flinched, clearly surprised by how easily I had let go. Ashley, on the other hand, let out a squeal of delight, planting several kisses on his lips before finally turning to me. “Sarah, I told you he would choose me!” I gave her a half-hearted nod and turned to leave. As I stepped off the stage, I stumbled. A cool hand steadied me. “Miss Paltrow,” a smooth voice said, “perhaps it’s time you started looking at other people.” I looked up at the man holding my arm—Adrian Stanton. A small smile touched my lips. I recognized his face from countless financial news segments in my past life. I just never expected to see him at my own disastrous engagement party. “Like who?” I asked. A smile spread across Adrian’s face, his dark eyes reflecting only me. He pressed a slip of paper into my palm. “My number. Call me when you have a moment.” I glanced at him, then gathered my skirt and headed for the dressing room. My parents and Liam’s parents followed me, their faces grim. Liam’s parents offered a forced, apologetic smile. “Sarah, our son has been so foolish. But what’s done is done. We want to compensate you. Just tell us what you need, and we’ll make it happen.” My mother rolled her eyes. “Who cares about your…” I quickly grabbed her hand, cutting her off. Then, with a bright smile, I said, “Auntie, in that case, how about you give me that plot of land in the North District?” Right now, that piece of land was practically worthless. But in a few years, its value would skyrocket. It was that very plot that had saved Liam’s family from bankruptcy in our past life. His parents drew up a contract on the spot. I beamed. After they left, my mother smacked my arm. “How can you be smiling after being publicly humiliated like that?” I pointed to the contract. “With this? How could I not be?” I truly was happy. In our past life, a series of bad decisions by Liam’s family had dragged my family’s business down with them into bankruptcy. The Stanton family was only saved by that single plot of land. I, on the other hand, had to pour every ounce of my energy into work just to salvage my family’s company. He had thrown tantrums more than once, complaining about how dull and boring our life was. Why couldn’t I just put work aside so we could see the world, have some fun? That’s when Ashley had reappeared. She had become a famous travel blogger, her location tag bouncing from one country to another. Liam was mesmerized by her videos. He started using “business trips” as an excuse to fly to Africa to watch the wildebeest migration with her. One was wild and free, the other yearned for that same freedom. It was inevitable that they would be drawn to each other. His “business trips” became more and more frequent. When I finally grew suspicious, I booked a seat on the same flight and discovered the truth. When I confronted him, the coldness in his eyes stopped me in my tracks. He said that being with me was like being trapped in stagnant water, utterly lifeless. Only with Ashley did he feel alive. Eventually, he hit rock bottom. “Let’s get a divorce,” he’d said. “You can have three-quarters of everything. You can have the kids. I just want my freedom.” “A person like you,” he’d sneered, “all you care about is money and profit. You’ll never understand the joy of a life without constraints.” He sounded like his eighteen-year-old self again, arrogant and reckless. But all I felt was a sense of ridicule. A life of passion and freedom was certainly appealing, but without a material foundation, it would ultimately lead to an empty void after the initial thrill wore off. Once he had had his fill of adventure, he would realize he had nothing to show for his life. For a long time after that, I heard nothing from Liam. I’d only catch glimpses of him when Ashley’s account popped up on my social media feed. It seemed he was truly living the life he’d always wanted. But I didn’t dwell on it. Because I, too, had found a new life and a new love, one who truly shared my ambitions. 3 I walked into the Stanton Corporation headquarters, holding a proposal for the North District development project. The elevator doors opened, and I found myself face-to-face with Liam. “Sarah Paltrow?” Behind him, Ashley looked up at me. They were both decked out in ski gear, a brand owned by Stanton Corp. I knew one of Adrian’s subsidiaries was looking for influencers to be brand ambassadors; I just hadn’t expected it to be them. I gave a curt nod in greeting and moved to step into the elevator. Liam blocked my path. “How did you know I’d be here?” “Sarah,” he said, his voice laced with annoyance, “I just got back in the country, and you’re already chasing me. Can’t you just leave me alone?” Ashley clung to Liam’s arm, her eyes full of smug satisfaction. “Sarah, you were so dramatic about leaving him. Why are you chasing him now? Liam and I are doing great. I heard things aren’t going so well for you, though?” “I heard the Paltrow family business is on the brink of collapse?” she asked, looking me up and down with the disdain one reserves for a failure. “Oh, Sarah, you’re so pathetic. Your family’s business is gone, you’re getting old, you’ve never even seen the world, and now Liam doesn’t love you anymore. Why don’t you come be our assistant? We could even pay you a little extra.” I looked at them as if they were a pair of fools. Had all that traveling knocked their brains loose? The Paltrow Corporation had been restructured and rebranded ages ago. The “Paltrow business” they were talking about was just a small subsidiary I’d left for my younger brother to practice on. “No, thank you,” I said calmly. “I’m doing just fine.” I tried to move past them to press the elevator button. But Ashley was relentless. She waved at the receptionist. “Does Stanton Corp just let anyone in? Does this woman even have an appointment?” The receptionist hurried over. “Miss Paltrow does have an…” Ashley cut her off. “So what if she has an appointment? I was personally invited here by Mr. Stanton himself. If you offend me, I’ll have him fire you!” Liam chuckled beside her. “Exactly. Besides, this ‘Miss Paltrow’ isn’t really here to see Mr. Stanton. She’s just trying to harass me. I can handle this for him.” He then pulled out an old photo of us from his wallet and showed it to the receptionist as if it were proof. “Sarah, you really went to great lengths to find me, even booking an appointment with Mr. Stanton. It’s pathetic,” he said. “If you have something to say, let’s take it outside. Don’t embarrass yourself here.” The receptionist’s gaze wavered. “Miss Paltrow, perhaps it would be best if you left.” I felt a knot of frustration tighten in my chest. I couldn’t believe how these two could so brazenly impose their own narrative on a situation and be so utterly self-righteous about it. I turned to the receptionist. “Please call Mr. Stanton’s secretary and authorize the private executive elevator for me.” She looked at me, hesitating. “Miss Paltrow, you only have an appointment with Mr. Stanton. The executive elevator is for… well, executives.” “Besides,” she added, her suspicion growing, “if you’re really just here to see Mr. Miller, you don’t actually need to see Mr. Stanton at all.” Ashley snorted. “Sarah, stop pretending. Your family is practically bankrupt. You have no business using the executive elevator.” The commotion was attracting attention from other clients waiting in the lobby. Their whispers were loud enough for us to hear. “Who does she think she is? Trying to use Mr. Stanton’s private elevator?” “Probably another gold digger. Even though Mr. Stanton is engaged, he still attracts them like flies.” The audience seemed to fuel Liam and Ashley’s performance. Their voices grew louder. “Sarah, I know we had a past, but can you please stop harassing me here? Even though I have a good relationship with Mr. Stanton, I can’t just let you cause a scene!” “There’s a coffee shop outside. Let’s talk there.” 4 I glanced at my watch. My meeting with Adrian was in a few minutes. I was starting to get anxious. “Liam, Ashley, I told you, my being here has nothing to do with you. Now, please move.” “Nothing to do with us?” Liam’s voice dripped with sarcasm. “I’ve been out of the country for months. I land today, and the moment I finish my photoshoot, you appear. You’re telling me this isn’t a calculated move?” “Sarah, you were the one who said you hoped we’d never see each other again. But the moment I’m back, you’re right here. You think I don’t know what you’re thinking?” A flicker of anger ignited within me. “Are you two done? If you are, then get out of my way!” “Sarah, darling, don’t get so flustered!” Ashley cooed. “We’re just trying to catch up. After all, Liam did choose me in the end.” “He still feels guilty about you. We’ve been so happy these past few years, so he worries about you sometimes.” I finally realized it. These two were living in a world of their own making. I stopped arguing and sat down on the sofa, pulling out my phone to call Adrian. “I’m being held up in your lobby,” I said. “The two people blocking my way claim to have a good relationship with you. You should probably come down.” I hung up before he could reply. Liam and Ashley exchanged a look and laughed. “Sarah, are you really calling Mr. Stanton?” I ignored her, focusing on my proposal. Ashley snatched the proposal from my hands, flipped through it dismissively, and then ripped it to shreds. “What’s this? A few pieces of paper? Do you have any idea who Mr. Stanton is? How dare you speak to him like that?” she sneered. “You probably just dialed a random number.” I watched as the proposal my team had worked on all night turned into confetti. A wave of frustration and rage washed over me. I slapped her, hard. “Ashley, have you gone through life without ever facing consequences for your actions?” She clutched her cheek, her eyes wide with disbelief. “You hit me?” “Sarah! I was personally invited here by Mr. Stanton! Do you have any idea what you’ve just done?” “I was going to put in a good word for you, maybe get you a meeting with him to save your precious family business.” Liam rushed to her side, pulling her into his arms to inspect the damage. “Sarah, you really don’t appreciate kindness, do you? Apologize to Ashley right now, and maybe she’ll still introduce you to Mr. Stanton. If you don’t, you’ll have to face the consequences!” The receptionist’s face had gone pale. “Miss Paltrow! How could you hit Miss Lin? She’s Mr. Stanton’s personal guest! What if something serious happens? Can you afford to take responsibility?” Liam sneered. “Sarah, if you kneel and apologize, I’ll put in a good word for you with Mr. Stanton.” The commotion had drawn everyone’s attention. No one noticed the elevator doors slide open. Not until a warm hand rested on my shoulder. “Honey, what’s got you so upset?”

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My sister, Lily, got married at twenty and had my nephew at twenty-one. Me? I’m twenty-seven, and I can’t seem to get anyone to stick around. Over the last few years, I’ve brought a string of boyfriends home. But just as things would get serious, just as we’d start talking about marriage, my father would lead them into his study. I don’t know what he said to them in there. But when they emerged, they were like strangers, their eyes filled with a terrifying rage. Some of them even tried to strangle me. My newest boyfriend, Mark, thought my dad was being unreasonable. But after he followed my father into the study, he came out with his eyes blazing, slapped me twice across the face, and broke up with me on the spot. I was left bewildered. What was the real reason they all left me? What secret was hidden in my father’s study? 1 “You worthless slut! Aren’t you disgusting?” “Next time, I should just let one of your boyfriends kill you. Maybe then you’ll finally learn your lesson!” After Mark left, my father’s face was a mask of cold fury as he hurled insults at me. To be honest, I’d had five boyfriends in the past few years, and without exception, it had always ended this way—in a brutal, ugly breakup. And before they turned violent, every single one of them had gone into my father’s study. It was hard to believe a person’s heart could change so quickly, but it happened. Every. Single. Time. I frowned at my father, hoping for even a single word of apology. But he looked at me like he wanted to tear me apart, furious that my latest ex hadn’t just finished the job and strangled me. I knew he’d always favored my sister, Lily. He never cared about me. When I first started dating, he forced me to break up with my boyfriend. Yet, the moment Lily turned twenty, the legal age for marriage, he practically pushed her down the aisle. Watching her husband move into our house, doting on her, showering her with affection—I was so envious that she could be with the person she loved. Whenever my dad caught me looking, he’d kick me to the ground and snarl at me to stop staring at my brother-in-law, telling me to forget about ever getting married myself. When Lily and her husband went on their honeymoon abroad, my father made me stay home, grounded, to “reflect on my mistakes.” He even had Lily call me and tell me not to get married, not to “ruin someone else’s life.” I never thought my own father would be the one to systematically destroy every relationship I had. I even started to wonder if I was adopted. I hired a private investigator, but the results were clear: I was his biological daughter. I couldn’t understand it, so I vented my frustrations on an online forum. Strangers chimed in, trying to solve the puzzle with me. 【Is it possible you were born on the day of a huge business deal he lost? He blames you for his financial troubles and wants revenge.】 【I bet you look like his mistress. Your mom hates you for it, so your dad does too.】 So I did more digging. But my dad was a teacher; he had no business experience. He was a man of integrity, no skeletons in his closet. I just couldn’t understand why he was so dead set against me finding love. Especially when I, with my striking looks, seemed to find it so easily, only to have it ripped away. Desperate, I asked my uncle to talk to him. Uncle Ben thought my father was being absurd. Who would want their own daughter to die alone? He went straight to our house to confront him. “Your daughter has found someone she likes! As parents, we should be happy for her. What’s wrong with you, trying to keep her single? Have you lost your mind?” My father stared at him in silence, then grabbed his arm and pulled him into the study. 2 When they came out, my uncle’s gentle gaze had been replaced by a vicious, cruel glare. Not only did he stop advocating for me, he kicked me square in the chest. “You pathetic stray! At your age, you still think you deserve to be loved? You’re not worthy!” Just then, my aunt arrived, looking for my uncle. She saw what happened and started yelling at him, but after my dad took her into the study, she too turned on me. She warned me to never think about marriage again, or she’d personally poison me. It was so strange. What on earth was in that study that could so drastically change everyone who entered it? Even my sister, Lily, who I’d always been close to, started telling me not to get married. “What’s so bad about being on your own? It’s freeing,” she’d say. She secretly burned all my photos with my ex-boyfriends and deleted their numbers from my phone, forbidding me from seeing or contacting any men. I tossed and turned every night, the mystery gnawing at me. But no matter what, at least my mom was still on my side. The problem was, she owned three restaurants and worked from dawn till dusk. She was never home to see how I was being treated. I had cried and raged over my breakups, but it was useless. A vast, empty disappointment settled in my chest, a gaping hole that let in a chilling wind. My father shot me a look of contempt and went to watch TV on the sofa. I walked over and stood directly in front of him, my expression serious. “Dad, tell me the truth. Why are you doing this to me? What did I do to offend you? Can’t we just talk about this like a family? Does it have to be like this?” If it was a misunderstanding, we could clear it up. But he didn’t even look at me, his eyes glued to the screen. “I’ve told you. No dating, no marriage. If you dare to disobey me, I will kill you.” Then, his eyes slid to the side, fixing me with a cold, unnerving stare. A shiver ran down my spine. He wasn’t joking. He stood up, went to the kitchen, and came back with a butcher knife, charging at me like a madman. Terrified, I ran into my room, locked the door, and called my best friend, Romy, begging her to call the police. The police arrived quickly, with Romy right behind them. A female officer immediately subdued my father, throwing the knife far away. I finally let out a breath and emerged from my room. “Mr. Wolfe,” the officer said sternly, “you are under suspicion of attempted murder. Please come with us to the station for questioning.” Even in handcuffs, my father looked dismissive, not a hint of fear on his face. Romy saw the gash the knife had left on my arm and her face went pale. Tears streamed down her cheeks. She punched my father’s shoulder, her voice filled with rage. “Are you insane? That’s your daughter!” “You’d rather kill her than let her get married?” She sobbed, gasping for breath. I knew if the police weren’t there, she would have fought him to defend my honor. In this world, there were still people who genuinely wished for my happiness. The police asked my father for his motive, but he remained silent, utterly unrepentant. 3 Romy stepped forward, holding up her phone. “I have proof. Sarah has had five boyfriends since she was twenty, and her father instigated every single breakup. He even encouraged them to hit her! I have all the photos of her injuries. These monsters need to be punished!” At her words, my father let out a low, chilling laugh, his expression contorted and terrifying. He gestured to the police to loosen their grip and then looked at Romy. “Fine, I’ll go with you. But first, I need to get some important evidence from my study. If you’re afraid I’ll run, you can all come in with me.”

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A new semester. A new beginning. My roommate, with her fabricated royal pedigree, had her eyes set on the Maybach my brother used to drop me off. That very night, she splurged, renting out the penthouse restaurant of an eight-star hotel to confess her feelings to him. The next morning, she had changed all her social media handles to “Mrs. Boothe.” And she vowed to spend our years as roommates teaching me “proper etiquette” according to her “royal standards.” What she didn’t know was that my “brother” was just a boy from an orphanage my parents had sponsored since he was little. And I was the true heir to the entire Boothe fortune. 1 It was for my brother, Enver’s, birthday. I’d gifted him a limited-edition Maybach sports car. To show his gratitude, he insisted on driving me to campus in it on the first day of the semester. That night, my roommate, the self-proclaimed royal descendant, Tina, didn’t come back to the dorm. She finally reappeared three days later, strutting in with an armful of luxury shopping bags, her nose in the air. She found me in our room, reading a product development report, and unceremoniously dumped the bags beside me. “Get these organized. Hang them in the closet. And be gentle. This stuff bruises easier than you do.” Her tone was that of a feudal lady tossing scraps to a scullery maid. When I didn’t move, her impatience flared. She shoved me hard, her gaudy, diamond-encrusted nails scratching a red line across my shoulder. “Mia Boothe, don’t you dare pull your little princess act with me!” she snapped. “Haven’t you heard? From now on, you live by the skin of my teeth.” She leaned in, her voice dripping with venom. “I tell you to study, you study. I tell you who to marry, you marry him. And if I say you don’t get a penny for a dowry, you’ll be out on your knees, begging on the street!” I couldn’t help the smirk that touched my lips as I watched her unhinged performance. “Don’t tell me you’ve finally found a way to get your ancestors back on the throne? You can have my family banished with a single word now?” I remembered her from freshman orientation last year. The first thing she’d said when introducing herself to the class was, “I am the thirty-ninth direct descendant of Prince von Hess. A hundred years ago, you would have had to kneel before me. But in these… special times, I grant you permission to use my name and be my classmate.” At first, some of the kids, fresh out of high school, were actually half-convinced by her vintage clothes and the jade pin in her hair. But it didn’t take long to learn the truth. Tina’s parents were prop masters for film sets. All her “heirlooms” were just repurposed costumes from historical dramas, all part of a grand scheme to package herself as high-born nobility. Her goal? To snag a wealthy husband and leapfrog into the upper class. And in this school, she hated me most of all. She was merely lost in a self-constructed fantasy of aristocracy, while I was, in fact, born into wealth. My sarcastic jab earned me a haughty eye-roll. She triumphantly whipped out her phone and shoved her social media feed in my face. “As of yesterday, your brother has officially asked me to be his girlfriend,” she declared. “From this moment on, I am the lady of the Boothe Corporation. Your dear sister-in-law. I’ve promised your brother I’ll give him at least three sons, so the Boothe family assets rightfully belong to my husband and my boys.” She paused, as if granting me a great favor. “But don’t you worry. I’ll take these next few years to train you properly, teach you the royal etiquette you so desperately need. When it’s time for you to marry for the family’s benefit, I’ll try my best to find you a man on his first wife.” “You’d better be cooperative,” she added, her eyes narrowing. “Because if I give birth to a daughter first, you won’t even have that marriage alliance to fall back on!” I burst out laughing. It’s true what they say—sometimes a situation is so utterly absurd, all you can do is laugh. I couldn’t believe that in the year 2024, someone’s mindset could be so stuck in the last century. Besides, the man kissing her in the photo at that eight-star hotel wasn’t my real brother. He was just a charity case my parents had taken in from an orphanage years ago. 2 I had no time to waste on someone so clearly delusional. Grabbing my laptop and research materials, I buried myself in the lab. If everything went according to plan, by the end of this semester, the new product I was developing would lead my family’s company to ring the bell on Nasdaq. I returned to the dorm late that evening. The moment I opened the door, Tina’s hand cracked across my face. “You brainless idiot!” she shrieked. “Didn’t I tell you to ask my professors and the academic advisor for a leave of absence for me? Why do all my classes show me as absent! Why are my participation grades gone!” Without a second thought, I slapped her back. Twice. Hard. “Who’s the brainless one here?!” I shot back. “The university has a strict policy against unexcused absences at the start of the semester. Who told you to skip the first day of class?” Tina was stunned into silence, her eyes welling up with tears of theatrical indignation. She immediately dialed Enver’s number and put him on speaker. “Darling,” she sobbed, “I’m so sorry. I just can’t manage Mia. She was out all day, and I was just worried about her. I only asked where she’d been, and she hit me.” Her voice trembled with false piety. “It’s not that I mind her hitting me… but a woman must uphold her feminine virtues to be blessed. If Mia keeps being so willful, she’s going to ruin all her future blessings!” I stood by, arms crossed, unimpressed by her pathetic, twisted narrative. But then, she thrust the phone in my face, and I heard my brother’s voice, shaking with rage. “Mia Boothe! Who the hell taught you to be so arrogant and willful?!” “Apologize to Tina right now! Or don’t blame me for disowning you as my sister!” 3 Enver’s reaction shocked me. Was this really the same boy who had cried in the orphanage, begging my parents to take him home? The same boy who had held my hand and promised to protect me for the rest of his life? For all these years, without my family’s support, he wouldn’t have even made it through middle school. We had always treated him as one of our own, never breathing a word to anyone about his adoption. We’d never been stingy with money or resources. The very sports car he was driving was a birthday gift from me. And now, for a girl he had been dating for all of three days, he was pointing fingers at me without even asking what happened. I guess it was true. No matter how genuine your kindness is, it becomes worthless once the other person takes it for granted. Pushing down my shock, I asked in a calm, level voice, “Enver, are you saying you’d really disown me as your sister?” “Mia, you know I’m just doing this for your own good… You need to listen… or Mom and Dad will worry…” His tone softened immediately, his slight tremor betraying his guilt. He knew perfectly well that at the age of thirteen, I had been officially named the sole heir to the Boothe family. The only reason I was even attending this university was because I saw potential in its student body. A team I built myself would be a team I could truly trust. 4 Right after I hung up, an apology text from Enver arrived. He claimed he had only been so harsh because he was afraid I was going down the wrong path. In his heart, I was his most important sister. At the end of the message, he specifically told me not to reveal his true identity to Tina. He was afraid that Tina, with her “noble” background, would look down on him. If this had been the old me, I would have immediately exposed Tina’s charade to him. But now? I didn’t care anymore. To me, an ungrateful outsider was no longer worth my time or effort. In the following days, I poured all my energy into the final stages of product development. I was out of the dorm at dawn and back late at night, successfully avoiding any more run-ins with Tina. She tried several times to make me recite a “manual of female virtues” she had written, but I ignored her completely. I had made up my mind: as soon as the new product launched, I was moving out. Then came the mid-autumn holiday weekend. I had just finished the last bit of work on the project and returned to the dorm to pack my bags. Suddenly, the door burst open. Tina and a strange man pinned me to the bed. I struggled frantically, terror coursing through me. “Let me go! Get off me! I’m calling the police!” Tina pulled the pin from her hair and jabbed it into me, again and again. “Go ahead! Call them!” she sneered. “Before they get here, my cousin will be done with you! You’ll be damaged goods nobody will ever want to marry!” I trembled in pain, glaring at her. “Tina, what the hell do you want?!” “What do I want?” Her eyes gleamed with a crazed triumph as she pulled a long, crudely made strip of white cloth from her dress. “I’m going to teach you a lesson. A permanent one!” “This is a treasure from my ancestors! Since you refuse to learn your place and keep trying to run around,” she hissed, “I’ll make sure you stay home. Permanently!” With that, she clenched the long cloth between her teeth, grabbed my foot, and began to twist it, forcing my sole to bend at an unnatural, sickening angle.

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In the corpse-piles of a battlefield, I found the Crown Prince, his memory gone. I fought off wild dogs with him for scraps of food. Later, when he returned to the royal court, the King asked me what reward I desired. A line of text appeared before my eyes, visible only to me: 【Don’t tell me the side character is actually going to ask the Prince to marry her.】 【A common huntress from the countryside, daring to dream of marrying into the royal family? No wonder she ends up being forced to drink poison.】 So, marrying the Prince was that dangerous. I shivered, hiding the small sachet he had given me, and bowed my head to the stone floor. “Your Majesty, all that Edith asks… is to be sent back to my home in the Northern March.” 1 The King was silent for a long moment. “Is that all you wish for?” I thought about it, then answered honestly. “If it’s not too much trouble, a little money and a large house would be nice, too.” I peeked at the King’s expression and quickly corrected myself. “A small house would also be fine.” It was just that a small house wouldn’t have room for chickens and ducks, or a trellis for my climbing flowers. Silence fell over the throne room. Everyone had assumed I would demand the Prince marry me. After all, the Northern March was a harsh and unforgiving land. If I hadn’t found Prince Drake, gravely wounded and without memory, in that mass grave, he would have frozen to death that winter. A debt for a life saved is a heavy one. Even the King hadn’t expected my wish to be so… simple. The text before my eyes erupted into a chaotic argument: 【I didn’t expect the side character to be so decent. My heart aches for her.】 【It’s just a tactic, feigning retreat to advance later. All the scheming second female leads are like this.】 【If the side character is gone, the main female lead and the Prince can finally be together.】 【But the Prince is the devoted second male lead! If he gets the girl, what happens to the main male lead?】 The King told me to wait one month. “The Border Legion is preparing to depart. You may travel with them back to the Northern March.” “Edith,” he said, his expression unreadable, “you have been wronged.” But I didn’t feel wronged at all. “I have fine clothes to wear and good food to eat. Edith is already very content.” As for the Prince… I touched the sachet, a pang of sorrow in my chest. I’d just have to eat a few extra bowls of stew. The sadness would pass. 2 As I was leaving, the Lord Chamberlain, the head of the palace staff, pressed a food box into my hands with a benevolent smile. “His Majesty said you are too thin, my lady. Eat more to build up your strength. On the day you depart, he has a special gift for you.” I accepted the King’s decree and happily headed out of the inner palace. A cat suddenly darted out in front of me, and I stumbled, spilling soup and broth all over myself. A woman’s light laugh drifted from nearby. “A peasant from the countryside. Even dressed in fine silks, you still manage to ruin them.” I looked up. A group of noble ladies were watching me from a distance, but none came forward. The magical text flared with excitement: 【Ah, the female lead is here! I love a pampered, arrogant noblewoman.】 【I’m voting for the Prince. This kind of forbidden ‘sibling’ romance is the best.】 【How can someone so cruel be the female lead? She should eat something better for her soul.】 The one who had spoken was Lady Jasna. According to the text, her parents had sacrificed their lives to save the King during an assassination attempt years ago. Taking pity on the orphaned child, the King had brought her to court and raised her as his own daughter. She was the one who had been closest to Drake during his youth. Jasna’s gaze was contemptuous, like she was assessing livestock. “She has some beauty, I suppose. No wonder she managed to seduce my dear ‘brother’ Drake.” My thin summer gown was soaked, clinging uncomfortably to my body. I stood there in embarrassment, not knowing what to do. A handmaiden rushed forward with a cloak, but Jasna stopped her, taking it herself to place around my shoulders. “Edith, do you truly believe Prince Drake will marry you?” she whispered in my ear, her fingers digging into an old wound on my shoulder. “The whole capital is talking about how you fought with dogs over scraps of food with the Prince. The rumors are everywhere. If I were you, I would have left long ago, instead of shaming His Highness in the capital.” She thought I had come to the King to demand a royal marriage. The pain was so sharp that tears welled in my eyes. I couldn’t help but push her away. “He wouldn’t!” I snapped. Drake would never think I was a disgrace. I hadn’t pushed her hard, but Jasna stumbled back dramatically, falling to the ground. A sharp stone on the path cut a long, bloody gash in her arm. “Lady Jasna!” The courtiers panicked. Drake arrived just in time to witness the scene. He rushed to help Jasna up, his eyes blazing with fury. “Edith! You presume upon the debt I owe you to act with such arrogance? Now you dare to harm the Lady Jasna herself!” “It wasn’t me…” I tried to explain, my voice small. “Brother, don’t blame Edith,” Jasna said, clutching her bleeding arm as if defending me. “She grew up without guidance. It’s only natural for her to be a bit… savage.” Drake wrapped an arm around her, his gaze on me turning to ice. “Do you think this is still the wilds of the North? You have no manners, no breeding. What’s the difference between you and a beast?” “Apologize to Jasna. Or get out of my sight.” His words struck me like a slap. My eyes stung, and a dull ache spread through my chest. So that’s how he saw me. He was ashamed of me too. I lowered my head and apologized to Jasna. Jasna turned away, tugging on Drake’s sleeve. “Brother, please, don’t force her.” Drake’s brow furrowed in anger. “Is that how you apologize?” Before we came to the capital, Drake had personally taught me court etiquette. “The capital is full of rules, Edith. You must be careful. You can’t be so carefree.” At the time, I had been practicing a clumsy curtsy. I grew nervous, wringing my hands. “What if I don’t learn it right? What if I really offend a noble?” Drake had smiled and gently smoothed my messy bangs. “Then you offend them. You are my savior, Edith. Who would dare to say a word against you?” Thank goodness I remembered all the rules in the end. I knelt properly on both knees, my forehead touching the sharp gravel of the path. “My Lady Jasna, this peasant deserves death for her crime. I beg for your mercy.” The stones were sharp. Soon, my forehead was a bloody mess. Drake’s expression flickered. “Edith, you don’t have to—” But Jasna tugged on his arm, crying, “Brother, it hurts.” And so, he said no more. The palace path was silent. I tried to be optimistic. The King had told me to keep my departure a secret, especially from Drake. A few bows were a small price to pay. I couldn’t let Drake throw me out. If he did, there would be no one to take me home. Before I fainted, I saw Drake say something to me. But I was in too much pain to hear. 3 In my dream, I was back in the Northern March. The winters there were brutal. When I first found Drake, my own pot was empty. The villagers urged me to leave him. “Edith, you’re about to starve yourself. What are you doing with him?” I was stubborn as an ox. “This is how my father found me. It’s a life. I can’t just leave it.” In the end, Old Matty, my neighbor, couldn’t bear to watch and gave me a bowl of thin rice porridge. I drank half and poured the rest down the throat of the blue-lipped Drake. He survived. But when he woke, he knew nothing but his name. The snows had blocked the mountain passes, and we couldn’t hunt. We were freezing and starving in my little cabin. Drake snuck out and returned in the middle of the night with a pouch of shriveled grain. I asked him where he got it. He grinned proudly. “I climbed two mountains and raided a field mouse’s burrow. Impressive, right?” His fingers were red and raw. The next day, they were covered in chilblains, itching terribly by the fire. I worried he would scratch them open, so I wrapped them carefully in strips of cloth. We survived the winter. I took him hunting in the mountains. Drake was a natural, learning everything instantly. The mountains were full of wild beasts. One day, we were carrying a rabbit back when we were cornered by a pack of feral dogs, their eyes red with hunger. I told Drake to drop the rabbit, but he stubbornly protected it. “No. This rabbit will feed us for two days.” We ran for miles before we finally shook off the pack. We stood there, covered in blood, clutching our hunting knives, and shared a weary smile. I cooked the rabbit that night, the tender meat mixed with hot peppers. The spice made Drake’s eyes water, but he didn’t leave a single drop of the broth. On the day of the Midwinter Festival, he shyly handed me a small sachet made of rough cloth, the stitching clumsy. “Edith, will you marry me?” I pretended to be calm and nodded. “Alright.” But I couldn’t suppress the smile that spread across my face. Soon, even Old Yeller, the dog at the village entrance, knew that Edith the foundling was getting married. Edith was going to have a family again. It was a tradition in the North that before a wedding, the couple would present a pair of carved wooden dolls to the spirits to bless their union with peace and happiness. I secretly learned how to carve from the villagers, getting several blisters on my hands, wanting to surprise Drake. But before the wedding, Drake disappeared. I thought a tiger had gotten him. I searched the entire mountain, weeping, and in my distress, I fell into a boar trap. An old hunter rescued me, but I was left with a deep scar on my shoulder. The next time I saw him, he was being escorted back to the capital by the Border Legion. The Crown Prince had returned. “Drake, will you come back to see me?” I clutched the cloth sachet, a sudden sadness gripping my heart. Drake sat on his horse, his silk robes finer than anything I had ever seen. They clashed terribly with the shabby sachet. The wooden doll hidden in my sleeve suddenly felt too crude to give him. He reached out a hand to me, his eyes gentle. “Edith, come with me.” “The capital is vast. There is so much good food and so many fun things to do. I can give you anything you want.” As if possessed, I took a step back and shook my head firmly. “No, Drake. This time, I won’t go with you.” 4 When I woke up, my cheeks were cold with dried tears. The handmaidens were gossiping by the window. “I heard the Lady Jasna’s arm will scar. She cried all night. In the end, His Highness gave her the Jade Scar Ointment left by the late Queen. That finally placated her.” “And it’s all because of the one in this room. Even when she’s in the wrong, the Prince is willing to clean up her messes. She’s just a huntress, but she’s so lucky.” Everyone said Edith was ungrateful. The Prince’s favor wasn’t enough for her; she dreamed of soaring into the sky like a golden phoenix. But all Edith wanted was to go back to the mountains of the North and be a free little bird. A thick bandage was wrapped around my forehead. I touched it. The knot was tied the way I had taught Drake. “You’re awake?” Drake was leaning wearily against the bed, dark circles under his eyes. He must have been up all night. “Drake, you should go back.” I urged him softly. I knew the Prince was very busy. He shouldn’t waste his time here. But Drake seemed to misunderstand. “Edith, are you still angry with me about Jasna?” “Jasna has agreed to forgive your disrespect, on one condition. You must personally hunt a white fox for her.” “And once Father issues the decree for our marriage, you will live with me in the Crown Prince’s palace. No one will be able to wrong you then.” The text scrolled rapidly: 【The Prince still has feelings for the side character. He’s even willing to humble himself and plead with the female lead for her.】 【He’d be dead without her. Now he says a few words for her and he’s patting himself on the back?】 【This is hilarious. All her suffering is caused by the Prince. I support her running away.】 I picked at the embroidery on the duvet and mumbled my agreement. “Fine.” I was leaving anyway. It could be my farewell gift to him. But my heart felt like I had bitten into an unripe plum, sour and bitter. Drake sighed in relief, explaining with rare patience, “Jasna is different from you. Her parents are dead, and she grew up in the palace. Her temper is understandably short. But she is a Lady of the court, the last of the High Duchess’s bloodline.” “The honor of the royal family cannot be tarnished. This was a light punishment. Edith, do not fail my efforts.” I knew. A huntress, drifting through life like a weed, was different from a golden-leaved noblewoman. Just as Edith and Drake were different. After Drake left, I took out the crude wooden doll and carefully carved its features with my knife. A tear fell unexpectedly, and I quickly chided myself. It’s alright. It doesn’t hurt that much. Time could sweeten a sour plum. Time could also help you let go of someone and stop hurting for them. But I never expected that the fox Jasna wanted was pregnant. 5 As I hesitated, an arrow flew from the opposite direction. Without thinking, I aimed my own arrow at the ornate one. With a sharp twang, both arrows shattered mid-air. The white vixen, sensing danger, leaped into the undergrowth and disappeared. Drake frowned and signaled for his guards to surround the area and capture the fox. I stood in his way. Drake’s face darkened. “Edith, are you going to fight me over an animal?” I shook my head. “All living things have a spirit. A hunter does not kill a pregnant mother.” It was a code of reverence among the mountain folk. I had taught it to Drake once. He seemed to have forgotten. “Edith, do you despise me so much? Not only did you push me down, but now you deliberately let my favorite fox escape.” Jasna’s eyes filled with tears, and as her sleeve slipped, it revealed a thick bandage. Drake comforted her in a low voice, then rode closer, gesturing for me to give him my bow. “Edith, be good.” “I did nothing wrong.” I refused to yield. Jasna’s tears fell like rain. “I remember my mother used to make me a new fox-fur cloak every year. But now, I don’t have a mother anymore.” “If my mother were still alive, she would be heartbroken to see me injured.” Drake’s gaze on me grew even more disappointed. “Edith is disobedient and unruly. For offending the Lady Jasna, she is to be confined for seven days to reflect.” My bow was taken from me, and I was locked away in a villa like a captured animal. That night, Drake was dispatched to the southern provinces. He spoke to me through the barred window. “Edith, the capital is not the North.” “Even I cannot do as I please, cannot protect you at every moment. For my sake, can you please just curb your temper?” I looked up at him and said, word by word, “Drake, I never wanted to stay in the capital.” I only forced myself because I liked you then. I touched my heart. But it seemed I didn’t like him so much anymore. “Edith, don’t say things you don’t mean. When I return, we will be married, alright?” The royal decree had not yet been issued, and a sense of unease gnawed at him. But the North was a thousand miles away, the roads plagued by bandits. Where else could a lone girl like Edith go? The day after Drake left, my food supply was cut off. The villa was on the outskirts of the capital. No one dared to disobey Lady Jasna’s orders. The gates were chained shut. When she came to visit, I hadn’t had food or water for two days. A stinking fox pelt was thrown in my face, the blood matting my eyelashes. Jasna leaned against the door, a mocking smile on her face. “A beast’s life is a tough one. The little cubs cried for three full hours after I cut them out before they finally died.” She wiped her hands in disgust. “Just like you. Why won’t you just die?”

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