I am the false princess. But this is no secret. My purpose was to protect the Crown Prince, to be a decoy for the true princess. The day the Prince ascended the throne, I went to offer my congratulations in secret. But I overheard the Queen say to him: “Aria has occupied that position for far too long. It’s time for her to disappear, and for your sister to return.” I clutched my gift tightly as I heard my noble, perfect brother reply, his voice clear and cold, “Of course. I will make the arrangements.” That night, a great fire swept through my wing of the palace. While everyone else was fighting the flames, I slipped into a crowd of servants being granted leave and escaped. I never knew that the composed, dignified young emperor had stumbled through the chaos, running headfirst into the inferno to find me. 1 It was March in the capital city of Aurelia, the season of the Imperial Examinations. Scholars from across the entire Empire of Solara gathered here, hoping to walk the hallowed halls of power. Inside a modest inn, a tall, handsome young man burst into a room, his face alight with joy. “Aria, I passed! I passed! Tenth place! Tenth place!” I had just set down a bundle of folded clothes when Carson swept me into a fierce hug. This man, usually so reserved and proper, who spoke in carefully constructed sentences, was now acting like a child, clinging to me and refusing to let go. I laughed and patted his back. He finally came to his senses, releasing me abruptly and taking two steps back, stammering apologies. I covered my mouth to stifle my laughter, calling him a fool. He just blushed and couldn’t meet my eyes. Three years ago, I escaped the palace. I was deceived by scoundrels and nearly sold into servitude. It was Carson who saved me and took me home. He had a mother with a bad leg, and their home was humble and poor. The first night I was there, he sat by my door until morning. Overwhelmed with guilt, I left him the only valuable I had—a silver bracelet—and slipped away. I didn’t know how cruel the world outside could be. Without money, I was helpless. When I was falsely accused of theft and dragged before the local magistrate, Carson appeared again and saved me. He shielded me with his own, not-so-broad body, his scholar’s dignity abandoned as he argued fiercely in my defense. It was then that I understood something for the first time. When the Queen and the Prince had watched me being punished in the palace, they had explained with cold faces that the royal family had a strict code of conduct. They couldn’t lower themselves to squabble with a lesser concubine, so I would just have to endure it. But when you truly care for someone, you don’t let them suffer. So this time, I didn’t leave. I went home with him. To repay his kindness, I did what simple chores I could. A year ago, Carson’s mother was on her deathbed. With her as our witness, we were married. But we never shared a bed. He had told me, “Aria, you must come from a noble family. Though I don’t know what misfortune has befallen you to grant me the honor of marrying you, I dare not take advantage. When I pass the examinations, I swear I will give you a proper wedding, with all the traditional rites and a grand carriage. If I fail, I will still treat you as my own sister and find you a worthy husband.” Others might have thought his words were empty promises, but not Carson. His gaze was honest, and he was a man of his word. For him, that spontaneous hug was already a great transgression. 2 Carson passing the examinations was a good thing. But a sense of unease settled deep within me. Not long after I faked my death and fled the palace three years ago, news spread that the “false princess” had usurped the true princess’s place. That same year, the real princess, Princess Iris, was welcomed into the palace. When I heard the news, I was selling paintings with Carson in the market. It was only a fleeting moment of shock, and then I was doubled over with laughter, listening to Carson earnestly lecture a customer on the principles of art. But our peaceful days didn’t last long. A public notice appeared, issued by the new Emperor, Alistair, seeking a missing person. In that instant, the world went dark around me. I had never imagined they would hunt me down so relentlessly. I was about to make an excuse to leave when Carson found me first. He told me he and his mother were moving back to his hometown, to the local academy, and asked if I would go with them. I couldn’t have been more relieved. And so, I spent three years hiding in a remote town. It was only when Carson came to the capital for the examinations that I dared to venture out and breathe again. 3 Carson saw my anxiety, but he didn’t know the truth. He thought it was just a young woman’s worries. So one night, during the Lantern Festival, under a sky filled with glowing paper lanterns, he made a vow to me. “I, Carson, swear that in this life, I will never fail you.” I smiled. “Even if I’m a wanted fugitive of the state? Even if I’ve committed terrible crimes? Even if… I’ve lied to you and deceived you?” Carson gripped my hand tightly. “If you are a fugitive, I will not harbor you, but I will never abandon you. I will stand with you. If you live, I live. If you die, I die.” I hugged him, laughing and calling him a fool, but tears streamed down my face. Someone in the magnificent palace had once said something similar to me. But he had broken his promise. 4 Carson’s performance in the final palace examination was flawless. He placed fourth in the second rank of scholars. I could almost see his brilliant future unfolding before me. We could be assigned to a remote post, become local officials, and bring prosperity to the people. But who could have predicted it? Who could have predicted that at the celebratory banquet, Princess Iris would single out Carson to be her personal tutor? When Carson told me, I was so stunned that the hot wax from the candle I was holding nearly dripped onto my fingers. How could this be? I closed my eyes. Why couldn’t I escape her? The Queen had never been favored by the late King. To protect the Crown Prince and her young daughter, I was secretly brought to the palace. From a young age, the Queen told me of her hardships. The Prince knew I wasn’t his real sister and treated me with indifference. The Queen saw me only as a substitute. At the time, I didn’t know my true identity. I only thought my brother was cold and my mother’s life was difficult. So I did everything I could to please them. I took the blame for my brother’s mistakes, became a pawn in my mother’s courtly schemes. When my brother was in danger, I stepped forward and drank poisoned wine for him. That night, as the poison coursed through me, my brother held me tightly, begging me not to die. It was the first time I had ever seen such a vulnerable expression on his usually stoic face. It was then I realized he wasn’t completely indifferent to me. The thought brought me so much joy that I could ignore the searing pain in my gut. Looking back now, I realize my brother was probably just afraid of losing such a useful tool. All the warmth he showed me afterward was likely just a way to ensure my loyalty. 5 The first day Carson returned from his new post, I waited for him at the door with a lantern. The deep green official’s robe made him look as stately as a pine tree, a true gentleman. He took my hand and gave me a small box of peach blossom cakes from a famous shop in the south district. “Look what I brought you.” The Imperial Palace was in the north district. The cakes were still warm. The craftsmanship of the common folk couldn’t compare to the palace’s, but I loved these cakes. Or rather, I loved the special consideration they represented. Carson loved to tell me about his day, about the things he saw in the palace. I loved having someone to talk to, so even though I knew the palace better than he did, I pretended to be fascinated. “The peach blossoms in the palace are in full bloom. I remember you love them most. If I get the chance, I’ll take you to see them. There’s a cat there, a calico, very proud, they say. But guess what? The moment it saw me today, it started rubbing against my legs. And, and…” Carson tirelessly tried to paint a picture of the palace for me, but he saw my face growing paler and paler. “Aria? What’s wrong?” “You love peach blossoms. In the future, shall I fill your palace with them?” “This cat is filthy, Aria. Don’t touch it.” “Alright, if Aria is willing to beg me, I suppose I could help you hide this little creature.” “Aria, when I ascend the throne, I will…” … Familiar words flooded my mind, finally dissolving into the cold, sharp blade of his final decree: “I will make the arrangements.” I forced a stiff smile for Carson’s concerned face. “It’s nothing. I’m just a little tired.” Carson watched me for a long moment, then suddenly pulled me into his arms. “Aria, you’re not happy. You haven’t really smiled since we came here. Give me some time. I’ll ask the Emperor for a transfer to a remote post. If you don’t like it here, we’ll leave, okay?” I felt as if I drew strength from his words. I hugged him back tightly. “Carson. Carson.” 6 On Carson’s third day at his post, he was punished by the Queen Mother, forced to kneel at the palace gates. When I heard the news, I was frantic with worry, but I didn’t dare step outside our home for fear of bringing him more trouble. When he finally limped through the door that evening, the tears I had been holding back finally fell. Carson saw them and panicked, rushing to wipe them away. “Aria, don’t cry. I’m back, see? I’m fine. And look what I brought you! Cakes from Li’s bakery.” He comforted me, coaxing me gently, even though he was the one who was hurt. “Why did the Queen Mother punish you?” In my memory, the Queen Mother was not a woman prone to anger. She preferred to make people disappear quietly. At my question, Carson fell silent. He held me tightly and said, “Aria, I will not fail you. I will not fail you.” The words made no sense. But they were explained the next day. Princess Iris had asked Emperor Alistair to grant her a marriage to Carson, and Carson had refused. “Your Majesty, I am already betrothed. My love for her is unwavering. I am grateful for the Princess’s favor, but I dare not presume. I beg Your Majesty to forgive my impertinence. I am willing to accept a lifelong post in the provinces and never return to the capital, to appease the Princess’s anger.” This was a massive scandal. Everyone knew the princess had been wronged for years, her position usurped. Since her return, she had become the apple of the Queen Mother’s eye, getting anything she desired. The enraged Queen Mother demanded Carson’s immediate execution, but Princess Iris stopped her. One wanted to kill him, the other wanted to keep him. In the end, for the sake of stability, Alistair made a decision: my status would be demoted. Iris would be the wife, and I would be the concubine. Iris genuinely liked Carson, so even though royal consorts were not allowed to have concubines, she compromised. It seemed like a happy resolution for everyone. Except for Carson. His eyes were red with fury. And so, this newly minted scholar, after only three days in office, resigned. In the court, all royal consorts held official positions. This act was an undeniable declaration of his heart. “I do not consent to Aria being a concubine. I wish to resign from my post and return home. I beseech Your Majesty to grant my request.” I don’t know which of his words moved the cold Emperor, but he slowly spoke. “Your wife’s name is Aria?” “Yes.” Alistair was silent for a long time. Finally, he said, “I do not wish to separate a fated pair. Since you are unwilling, I will not force the matter. Let it be dropped.” And so, this major crisis was resolved peacefully. When Carson told me, he was still marveling. “I was thinking at the time, if the Emperor really forced me to marry the princess, I would either resign or spill my blood in the throne room. I could never betray you. Fortunately, His Majesty is a wise ruler. He spared my life and saved us both. I will serve him loyally for the rest of my days to repay his kindness.” But when I heard Alistair ask my name, my heart had seized. Hearing Carson talk of spilling his blood in court, I forgot everything else. “You’d spill your blood in the throne room? You… you… if you did that, I’d follow you to the grave just to yell at you.” Carson saw how angry I was and took my hand. “Aria, don’t be angry. I was wrong. But Aria, the court is a dangerous place. I might leave this world before you. I don’t believe a woman should remain a widow. Don’t follow me in death. If you find someone you like, you can remarry. The rest of your life is too long. I’m afraid of you being lonely.” In the lamplight, Carson’s gaze was sincere and bright. I cried, a hiccup escaping me. “You fool. Where in this world could I ever find another fool like you?” 7 The matter of the marriage was dropped, but I had a feeling that, given the Queen Mother’s temperament, she wouldn’t let us off so easily. Sure enough, a few days later, an invitation came from the palace, asking me to attend a flower-viewing party. Carson was only a minor official. As his wife, how could I possibly be worthy of such an event? Besides, I would never dare set foot in the palace again. So I claimed illness. To make it convincing, I rubbed my face with mugwort, causing red blotches to appear all over my skin. That was enough to fool the royal physician. But at the same time, rumors spread that I was hideously ugly. My preference for staying at home became “proof” that I was ashamed to be seen. When Carson heard, he cupped my face in his hands. “They are all fools. My Aria is the most beautiful girl in the world.” I was about to tease him for being so glib, but he placed a solemn kiss on my forehead. “Aria, will you marry me? Properly? I’ve saved enough for a grand carriage and a magnificent procession.” His eyes crinkled with a smile. It was infectious. And so, I heard myself say, “Yes.” 8 Carson went to the palace to request leave for our wedding, but he didn’t come back. As I stood at the door with a lantern, a small sedan chair was carried up. A thin, reedy voice called out. I knew instantly it was someone from the palace. “Lady Carson, your husband is drunk in the palace. You are requested to come and fetch him.” I covered my face in fear. “My husband never drinks to excess. Why would he suddenly be drunk?” The eunuch let out a strange laugh. “That, this servant wouldn’t know. I only know that if you do not go, your husband will not be coming back.” As he spoke, he revealed a jade pendant. It was Carson’s. I gripped the lantern, my body frozen. It seemed like a long time passed, or maybe no time at all. I heard myself say, “Let’s go.” I couldn’t let him lose his career, lose his life, for my sake. The one who wanted to see me wasn’t the Queen Mother. It was Iris. The beautiful princess had an air of naive innocence. When she saw me, she was very disappointed. She didn’t recognize me, the person who had lived her life for sixteen years. “You really are plain. I don’t know what my dear Carson sees in you. Well, dispose of her cleanly. Have someone return the pendant secretly. Don’t let Carson know.” I was gagged and dragged out of the hall. “What do we do with her? It’s not easy to get out of the palace now.” “Then deal with her in the palace. This place is vast enough to hide one more body.” “The Rose Garden is deserted. Dump her there.” Hearing this, my eyes widened. The Rose Garden. That was the name of my old quarters. Why, after all this, was I back where I started? “But… aren’t we forbidden from entering there?” “That’s what makes it the perfect place to handle this.” “Stop dawdling. Let’s go.” I was jostled along the path until the sweet scent of peach blossoms filled the air. “We’re here.” “Quick, quick, just drown her and bury her. Get it over with.” The next second, water engulfed me. The will to live made me struggle. The eunuch seemed inexperienced at this, and I managed to break free. “Who’s there?” A familiar voice made me freeze, and I was pushed back under. “What is His Majesty doing here?” “It’s fine, it’s fine. He’ll leave soon. Just hold her down and it’ll be fine.” In that moment, I hesitated between crying for help and staying silent. Until: “Your Majesty, I have gathered the finest peach blossoms. Thank you for your generosity.” Those words struck me like a thunderbolt. An overwhelming sense of injustice surged through me. I couldn’t think anymore. I fought my way to the surface. “Husband, save me!” Alistair’s body went rigid. He turned around in disbelief. I scrambled past him and threw myself into Carson’s arms. “Husband, save me!” Before Carson’s comforting words could come, a hoarse voice cut through the air. “Aria? Is that you?”

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I am Levias Thorne’s kept woman, his little bird in a gilded cage. In bed, I’m all sultry wiles and coquettish charm, the kind of woman who can wrap a powerful man around her little finger. Out of bed, I carry myself like his rightful wife, amusing myself by sparring with the woman he supposedly pines for, his one-that-got-away. To everyone else, I am a woman madly in love with Levias Thorne, a mere substitute destined to be discarded. The truth is, I don’t love him at all. I only love his money. Under the cover of his name, my own business ventures have flourished. I’m on the verge of becoming a new powerhouse in the corporate world. I decide to dump him first, staging a tearful, dramatic breakup. “Levias, I’ve spent five years trying to make you love me… I’m tired. Let’s end this.” A bead of sweat drips from his chin onto my skin. He looks down at me, a smirk playing on his lips. “Just as I thought. A woman gets a little money and her heart changes. How about this: I’ll bankrupt you, help you get back to your roots.” 1 Levias rose from the bed and started dressing. “She’s flying back today,” he said. “Prepare a welcome banquet for her at the Serenity Garden.” “She” was Amelia Garcia, Levias Thorne’s unrequited love, his white moonlight. I draped myself over his back like a boneless cat, my freshly manicured nails tracing the lines of his abs. His body tensed for a moment. “Who else will be there?” “Just friends from our circle.” My eyes darted around mischievously. I purred, “A proper banquet needs proper jewelry. I saw this gorgeous jade bracelet, top-grade icy jade, but it’s a little… pricey. Eight hundred thousand.” “Buy it.” I squealed with delight and planted a kiss on his cheek. “Levias, darling, I love you.” He was unmoved by my declaration of love, grabbing my wrist instead. “These nails are too long,” he said, his voice flat. “My back is covered in scratches.” I gave him a guilty smile. “But they look so good… Should I cut them?” “Leave them. They do look good.” His eyes darkened. He pulled me onto his lap and gave me a long, passionate kiss. Later, at the Serenity Garden, I greeted the guests, the new jade bracelet glittering on my wrist. I had shed my bedroom persona and was now the picture of a dignified, gracious hostess, the perfect wife. Amelia’s clique of friends were whispering loudly about me. “Amelia, that’s her. Levias’s little pet.” “Her eyes look so much like yours, Amelia. Everyone in our circle knows she’s just your substitute!” “I heard she was just some small-time actress before. She only got where she is today because she looks like you.” “Amelia, don’t be sad. Levias really loves you.” My eyes met Amelia’s. She was beautiful, the kind of woman who had clearly been coddled and raised in luxury her whole life. The rumor was that Amelia had been the one to “save” Levias back in high school, when he was just a poor kid with nothing. But Amelia was in love with Carter Hayes, the heir to a massive old-money fortune. She had married Carter and they had moved to the States. Levias was with me, they said, because I was her replacement. Now, Amelia was divorced and back in the country. A lot of people were waiting to see me, the substitute, get thrown out by Levias. I raised my glass and gave Amelia a warm, friendly nod and smile. She was taken aback, clearly not expecting that reaction. She was Levias’s cherished memory; I wasn’t stupid enough to provoke her. Keeping a respectful distance was the smart play. But Amelia’s friends wouldn’t let it go. Suddenly, I felt a hard shove from behind. I stumbled into the champagne tower. I lost my balance, about to fall into a sea of shattered glass. I instinctively protected my precious bracelet and squeezed my eyes shut, bracing for the pain. It never came. A hand grabbed my arm, yanking me upright. I collided with a solid chest, the familiar scent of a man’s cologne filling my senses. Amelia and her friends had really pissed me off. Fine. I could be crazy, too. I wrapped my arms around the man’s neck, looked at the lackey who had pushed me, and said in my most fragile, helpless voice, “Levias, darling~~ I’m pregnant. Our baby… she almost killed our baby.” The entire room seemed to freeze, a collective gasp rippling through the crowd as they stared, hungry for the drama. Levias frowned at me, his eyes a mixture of shock, joy, and something akin to awe. His eyes were even turning red. He used protection every single time. How could he possibly believe my bullshit?! Did he think I’d secretly poked holes in them? 2 “You’re lying! I didn’t push you!” I pointed to the security camera directly above the woman’s head. “Should I have them pull the footage?” The woman looked desperately at Amelia, pleading for her to speak up. Amelia avoided her gaze, distancing herself completely. The woman panicked. “You’re not hurt, are you? I… I was just joking!” Levias’s anger twisted into a cold smile. “A joke? Then I’ll be sure to ‘joke’ with you often in the future. I hope you’ll still be laughing then.” In this city, Levias Thorne was a name that struck fear into people’s hearts. He was known for being swift, ruthless, and vengeful. For him to say that meant the woman was in for a world of hurt. She collapsed onto the floor, looking utterly lost as the staff escorted her out. My original plan was to first claim the moral high ground, then go ballistic and shove her face into the broken glass to scare her. I hadn’t expected Levias to actually believe my lie and stand up for me. I was about to confess to him when Amelia spoke up. “Levias, I need to talk to you.” “Let’s go to the tea room.” Levias and Amelia left together. He didn’t spare me another glance. Was I hurt? Of course not. In these five years, aside from the gifts Levias had given me, the stocks and funds he’d helped me invest in, and the projects he’d brought me into, I had made a fortune. Looking at the eight-figure balance in my bank account, I was the sunniest, happiest girl in the world. With Levias gone, I was like a mouse in a cheese factory. Levias’s circle of friends was a goldmine of connections, the rich and powerful. How could I let such a precious resource go to waste? I had started my own company, and this welcome banquet was my sales pitch. The guests were all potential clients. With my silver tongue, I closed three million in deals over the course of the meal. Levias’s best friend, Ian, said, “Levias is in a room alone with his old flame. Aren’t you jealous?” “I’ll get to that later. That new project of yours, I want to invest five million.” “What if it fails?” “If it fails, I’ll go cry to Levias and make him pay me back.” Ian burst out laughing. “Alright, Levias is completely wrapped around your finger.” I had done my due diligence on Ian’s project. It wouldn’t fail. And if it weren’t for Levias, Ian would have never let me in on it. My mind was a busy abacus, clicking and clacking. Making money was the happiest thing in the world. Still, in front of my sugar daddy, I had to act like I loved him more than I loved money. 3 I peeked into the tea room, ready to play the part of the jealous lover. Levias saw me and beckoned me inside. “From now on, Amelia will be staying at the Serenity Garden. Arrange a room for her. She is my honored guest. See to it that her needs are well taken care of.” The Serenity Garden was a magnificent, traditional-style estate. Old money families all had their ancestral homes, their main residences. The Serenity Garden was Levias’s, the seat of his self-made dynasty. He spent most of his time here. A sour feeling churned in my stomach. So this was the power of the white moonlight. She could just waltz in and take up residence. Oh well. I’d just have to use Levias’s card to buy myself a new bag to cheer myself up. I smiled, the picture of a gracious and understanding partner. “Of course, darling.” Levias took a sip of his tea, his expression coolly indifferent. “Go on, then.” I took Amelia to her room. She struck up a conversation. “It’s been over a decade. Levias is a real powerhouse now. You never saw him at eighteen. He was the only scholarship student at our elite private school. He was so plain and poor, and so gloomy. Carter Hayes and his gang of rich kids used to bully him relentlessly. They beat him so badly he went deaf in one ear. If I hadn’t paid for the surgery to fix his hearing, how could a deaf boy have ever become the CEO he is today?” So she was here to cash in on that old debt, to live off him for free. When he was poor, she looked down on him. Now that he was successful, she was back, trying to snatch him up? We were walking across a small bridge in the garden. Suddenly, Amelia shoved me into the lake. “Help! Someone fell in the water!” After shouting, Amelia jumped in too. She grabbed my hair, her eyes filled with malice. “Tell me, do you think this ice-cold water is enough to make you miscarry?” She pushed my head under the water. A terrible memory flooded my mind… A winter day. My father shoves my head into a water barrel crusted with ice. “I work my ass off all day, and you can’t even make a hot meal! What’s the point of a girl getting an education? You’re eighteen now. I’ve already settled the bride price with the Lowell family. You’re getting married!” Amelia kept my head submerged, not letting me breathe. I reached my limit, gasping in a mouthful of water. Rage consumed me. I struggled, broke the surface, and punched her square in the face. My strength was fading. I doggy-paddled to the shore. Just then, Levias and the others arrived. I was shivering violently. I looked at Levias. He took off his coat, knelt down, and wrapped it tightly around me. I huddled in his arms, already plotting my revenge against Amelia. This was our first real fight. I had to show her what I was made of. “Levias… save me!” Amelia thrashed in the water, crying for help. Levias said to one of his men, “Pull her out.” Once on shore, Amelia burst into tears. “She slipped and fell in. I was trying to save her. But when she got to the edge, she punched me in the face! That’s why I almost drowned…” The bruise on Amelia’s face was a blatant piece of evidence. Her friends immediately chimed in. “Lily Hill! You’re so vicious!” “Our kind Amelia risked her life to save you, and you tried to kill her!” I clutched my stomach and let out a heart-wrenching wail. “Levias, our baby… it’s gone!” The guests gasped. A moment ago, they had been looking at me with disgust, as if I were the evil villainess. Now, their faces were filled with sympathy. They turned on Amelia and her friends. “Just shut up. She just lost a child. Don’t provoke her.” “She must have been terrified. That’s why she hit Amelia by mistake.” “You just got a punch. She lost a baby.” “If you’re so kind, then just drop it.” Levias swept me into his arms and strode quickly toward the bedroom. I wrapped my arms around his neck and shot Amelia a triumphant look over his shoulder. She stood frozen, her face a mask of resentment and jealousy. 4 In the bathroom, Levias pressed me against the cold tiles. He had seen through my lie back when I first confronted the lackey. “Let go of me! Levias… you didn’t use protection!” “Don’t you want a baby? I’ll give you one right now!” I glanced at our reflection in the mirror. Levias was kissing my neck, urgent and fierce. My own expression was a mixture of dark satisfaction and triumph. Five years. I didn’t know if he had ever truly had feelings for me. But he was definitely physically attracted to me. I picked up his cigarette case and lit one. He looked up at me. “Pay attention.” I blew a puff of smoke in his face. “This is too exciting. I need a cigarette to calm down.” That only made him crazier. … “You made a lot of mistakes today,” he said later, carrying me to the bedroom. “Reflect on them. Tell me everything you did wrong.” I wracked my brain. “I shouldn’t have… lied about being pregnant.” “Continue.” “I shouldn’t have… hit your white moonlight.” Levias’s hand cupped the back of my neck. “You have no idea what you did wrong, do you? No matter. We have plenty of time.” I buried my face in the pillow. He had been working out like a madman lately, and his stamina was even better. I wanted to run. Levias grabbed my ankle and pulled me back for more. He kissed my swollen lips, wiping away my tears. “Crying so pitifully. Do you know what you did wrong yet?” Overwhelmed, a sudden moment of clarity struck me. “I shouldn’t have… protected the bracelet first when I fell.” “Mm.” I smiled. “I knew you cared about me, darling.” Levias stroked my back. “Are you jealous that I let her stay?” “Of course. I love you so much, I’m dying of jealousy.” He sat up, lit a cigarette, his voice and expression cool. “Hah. You don’t love me. You only love my money.” I shot back, full of false bravado, “How could I be so shallow? I’m also greedy for your body.” I took the cigarette from his hand and finished the last half. Just then, the butler came to the door. The white moonlight had a fever. “You go to sleep. I’ll go check on her.” The moment a man gets out of bed, he’s a heartless bastard. To be honest, I was a little hurt. Just a tiny bit. I pulled the covers over my head and fell into a deep sleep. 5 I woke the next morning to see Levias standing on the balcony, smoking. I had no idea when he’d come back. There was a deep loneliness about him. After five years together, he was still an enigma. I couldn’t figure him out. He was rich, handsome, had a great body, and was good in bed. He was generous with me, gave me the resources to start my business, and taught me so much. He was a truly charismatic man. Seeing I was awake, he slid open the door and came inside. He walked over and hugged me. He was cold, carrying the chill of the night. The atmosphere was just right. I couldn’t help but ask the question that bothered me most. “Am I Amelia’s substitute?” “What do you think?” “I don’t think so.” I laid on the flattery thick. “Using a substitute is something only a low-life scumbag would do. You, darling, are a man of noble character. You’re above such things.” He chuckled at my antics and kissed my forehead. “Mm. You’re not a substitute.” “Then who am I to you?” I puffed out my chest proudly. “I am your most cherished little bird in a gilded cage!” I was joking, but he wasn’t smiling. He frowned. “About what happened at the lake. Don’t you have anything to say to me?” I was well aware of the destructive power of a white moonlight. Accusing her without any proof would not only be unbelievable to him, but it would also make him resent me. “Not at the moment.” The warmth in Levias’s eyes vanished, replaced by a look that said he wanted to strangle me. Of course. I’d hurt his precious memory, and now he was upset. I decided to placate him first. I flirtatiously swept my bangs aside, my voice a sultry purr. “Darling, I’ll give you an explanation for this later. Don’t be angry.” Heh heh heh. Amelia had messed with the wrong person. If I didn’t get her kicked out of the Serenity Garden, my name wasn’t Lily Hill. “Do whatever you want.” Levias turned and left. My stomach churned. I clutched it, grimacing, already plotting my next move against Amelia. Levias came back with stomach medicine and a bowl of congee. I had developed stomach problems from years of going hungry as a child. After five years of being pampered by Levias, it rarely acted up anymore. I had been hiding the pain. How did he know? “Take the medicine, then eat the congee.” “Oh.” I sniffled, touched. I tugged on his belt. “Levias Thorne, I don’t care what history you have with her. My bottom line is this: you only sleep with me. If I find out you’ve been unfaithful, I’m done with you.” As a kept woman, you can’t just be submissive. Showing a bit of strength now and then is more attractive. He looked at me for a long time, his eyes shining. “Alright.” He was completely wrapped around my finger. 6 Levias went to the office. I caught a few non-venomous snakes and put them under Amelia’s bed. While she was taking her afternoon nap, I squatted outside her door, eating sunflower seeds. “AHHHHHHHHHH!” Amelia’s scream echoed through the Serenity Garden. I walked into her room. A patterned snake was coiling itself around her calf, its tongue flicking in and out. Other snakes were writhing on her duvet. She was terrified of snakes, crying and screaming hysterically. “Get them away from me! AHHHHHHH! Lily Hill… I shouldn’t have pushed you into the lake! I know I was wrong, please get the snakes away!” I took out my phone. “Say that again. I’m recording.” Amelia, her face a mess of tears and snot, her body rigid with fear, repeated herself. I opened a burlap sack and deftly scooped the snakes back inside, one by one. “What’s all the commotion?” Did this woman have some kind of protagonist-level luck? Why was Levias home at this hour? Amelia saw him and ran toward him barefoot. She was wearing a silk nightgown, her long hair flowing behind her. It was actually a rather beautiful scene. Levias dodged her embrace. Amelia missed, nearly face-planting on the floor. I discreetly tried to hide the sack behind my back. But the snakes had surprisingly sharp teeth. They had chewed through the sack and were escaping. One snake lunged and bit my arm. Levias rushed over, grabbed the snake by the neck, and slammed it on the ground. The snake went limp. “Butler, get the car!” “This snake isn’t venomous…” “Shut up! Even if it’s not venomous, you’re going to the hospital! Let a doctor check your brain!” Hmph. His precious white moonlight was fine. Why was he so angry? So annoying. I decided to stir the pot some more. I played the recording. “Levias, darling, you heard it. She was the one who pushed me at the lake.” Amelia reacted quickly, her voice full of hurt. “I’m terrified of snakes… She used them to force a confession. The words on that recording, they’re not true.” “Enough!” Levias’s face was like a thundercloud. He ordered someone to get rid of the snakes, then grabbed my arm. “Is this the explanation you were going to give me? You’ve been with me for five years. How can you still be so brainless?!” I shook his hand off. “I don’t like the word ‘with’. Don’t use that tone of superiority with me!” 7 Suddenly, the whole thing just felt pointless. I was so rich now. People called me Ms. Hill. Why was I fighting with another woman over a man? If I dumped Levias, I could have my pick of eight male models. I feigned tears, putting on a show of a tragic, tormented lover. “Levias Thorne, I’ve spent five years trying to make you love me… Since your white moonlight is back, I won’t stand in your way. I’m tired. Let’s break up!” Levias’s expression turned terrifying. He raised his hand. I thought he was going to hit me and covered my head. He threw me over his shoulder and strode out of the room. Back in the bedroom, he tossed me onto the bed. “Hey, hey, hey, don’t rip my clothes… This is a new Hermès dress!” … A bead of sweat dripped from Levias’s chin onto my skin. He looked down at me, a smirk playing on his lips. “Just as I thought. A woman gets a little money and her heart changes. How about this: I’ll bankrupt you, help you get back to your roots.” This time, I was genuinely scared. He could play with my emotions, but he couldn’t mess with my money. “Darling, I was just being dramatic. Don’t take me seriously.” I could be flexible. I beamed at him, my eyes crinkling. “Darling, I still love you. I can’t live without you.” Levias’s smile was handsome, but chilling. “Remember this. If I don’t let you go, you’re not going anywhere. Lily Hill, you made two mistakes today: first, you let a snake bite you; second, you tried to break up with me. How should I punish you?” Levias’s fingers threaded through my hair, finding the long scar on the back of my head. There was a flicker of pain in his eyes. He sighed, a sound of resignation. “Forget it… I’m not the one in charge here. You’re the one who rules my world.” This time, he was exceptionally gentle. Levias was taking care of his divorced ex-love, but he wouldn’t break up with me. What was he thinking? In a moment of passion, I bit down hard on his shoulder and wiped the sweat from his chin. He was so sexy… I fell asleep, exhausted and satisfied. When I woke up, the snake bite had been treated. With nothing better to do, I went to Amelia’s room to annoy her, channeling the persona of a viciously favored imperial concubine from a historical drama. I saw a servant bringing her a meal and glanced at the food. “What’s her status? She’s eating the same bird’s nest soup as me? Take it away.” Amelia was furious. “Lily Hill, do you really think you’re the mistress of the Serenity Garden?!” I gave the servant a look. The servant said haughtily, “All expenses at the Serenity Garden are managed by Ms. Hill. You eat what Ms. Hill tells you to eat.” I grabbed a handful of Amelia’s hair. “If I had really been pregnant, you would have actually killed my child. You’d better sleep with one eye open. There might be a snake hiding in a corner somewhere that we missed.” Fear crossed Amelia’s face. “Lily Hill, you won’t be gloating for long!” Two days later, Amelia made her next move. She exposed the secret I had hidden for years.

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I am a Prince of the Veridian Empire. In my most glorious years, I tormented the man they now call the King’s Shadow, Leon. I trampled upon his brokenness, mocking him for the pleasures he could no longer have. After I lost everything, he was the one who played with me until I shattered. “Even without that, Your Highness,” he would murmur, “I have a thousand ways to serve you.” “A eunuch, you say? The pleasures a eunuch can offer… are more varied than you can possibly imagine.” 1 I was sprawled across Leon’s lap like a discarded rag doll, completely spent. He looked down, savoring the blankness in my eyes. His long, elegant fingers, slick with a moist sheen, slowly wiped themselves on the small of my back. I had already wept myself hollow. My limbs were weak, pliant, and useless. I never knew. I never knew a eunuch could possess such skills. His methods of torment were more numerous, more inventive, than any whole man’s. And I, a Prince of the Veridian Empire, had been reduced to this pathetic state before him. Utterly his to take, his to command. The shame. The burning, unbearable shame. I swung my hand, striking him across the face. I did it with the hand that wore my signet ring, not just reddening that pale, handsome cheek, but carving a fine, bloody line into the skin. I snarled through gritted teeth, “You insolent dog, you don’t know your place.” But my tears and curses earlier had earned me no pity from him. He had simply watched, his expression one of rapturous madness, his pupils dilated with an almost feral excitement as he held me captive, a plaything he could not be denied. I was a fish on his chopping block, and he had gutted me again and again. This time, Leon offered no argument. He simply touched a thumb to the cut on his cheek, smearing the blood slightly. “My apologies, Your Highness. The fault is mine.” There was not a shred of remorse in his voice. It was a promise, clear as day: he wasn’t finished, and he would dare to do it again. And why shouldn’t he? Given his station now, why would he ever need to bow his head to me? My fury was impotent, a pointless gesture. A wave of exhaustion washed over me. I lay limp on his lap, listlessly twisting the ring on my finger. “How is my mother?” “Thanks to your… generosity, Your Highness, the Queen Mother’s illness has greatly improved.” As it should. She had been wasting away all winter. If I hadn’t come crawling to Leon, hadn’t stripped myself bare for his amusement, she would have been left to die. The King’s Shadow. A title of such power. This damned servant, once nothing, was now a lord in his own right. And I, the true prince, was now just a beaten dog, living in constant fear. Ever since my bid for the throne failed and my brother was crowned, I was no longer the exalted Fourth Prince. I couldn’t even summon a royal physician. The new king, my brother, refused to see me. Every door was barred. So, on the day of the first snow, I went to the one person I had sworn I would never beg from. The brazier in Leon’s chambers burned bright, melting the fine snowflakes from my hair and brows. The warmth was so sudden, so enveloping, it made me want to weep. He was dressed in the severe black and silver of the Obsidian Directorate, lounging on a divan and stroking a white cat in his lap. “Your Highness knows as well as I do,” he said, his voice a low purr, “that if His Majesty wants the Queen Mother dead, no one can save her.” He was right. If he wasn’t, I wouldn’t be here. The only person who had the new king’s ear was Leon. It was Leon, after all, who had crushed all opposition to put my brother on the throne. My fists clenched. I bowed my head. “For the sake of what we once were, I’m begging you…” “What we once were?” Leon scoffed, finally looking up at me. His eyes were like chips of ice. “Your Highness, is there anything left between us?” There had been. Once. But not anymore. In the struggle for succession, he had chosen my brother, Julian. He had hurt me, and I had humiliated him. Whatever bond we had was long since buried under a mountain of hate. I was speechless. “Your Highness,” he said, his voice turning silken and dangerous. “If you’re going to beg, you should look the part.” He set the cat aside. “I’ll save the Queen Mother. But what will you give me in return?” What could I give? I had nothing left. “What do you want?” Leon paused, wiping his hands on a silk cloth. Then he said one word. “Undress.” My mind went white, then flooded with a hot, furious disbelief. “What did you say?” The flickering lamplight danced across his face, making his handsome features seem almost demonic. He repeated the word, his tone flat and even. “Take off your clothes.” He tossed the cloth into the fire, holding his long, pale hands over the flames to warm them. “I want to see you, Your Highness. The more you bare for me, the faster the Queen Mother’s recovery will be.” 2 That day, I shattered my own pride. Piece by piece, I shed my fine clothes, stripping away the dignity of my royal blood along with them. He pressed me down onto his lap and explored every inch of me, inside and out. When the torment became unbearable, I bit down on his arm, tears streaming down my face. When the waves of pleasure crested, I moaned his name. Through it all, Leon remained cold, detached, as if all my writhing and weeping couldn’t stir a single ember of interest in him. Not because he lacked the means, but because he lacked the desire. For me. Even as a eunuch, he had no interest in me. He didn’t want me. He only wanted to know the most exquisite way to humiliate me. This was his revenge. Revenge for how I had once shamed him. The white cat sat by his feet, looking up at me with curious, tilted eyes, letting out a soft meow. He was toying with me, just as he toyed with the cat. How dare he! How dare he debase me like this! My teeth sank into his arm, drawing blood. Leon merely pinched my chin, his fingers probing at my teeth. He chuckled. “Such sharp teeth.” My face was a mess of tears. I trembled against his lap, a broken thing. His gaze darkened for a moment. He released my jaw, but his words were still barbs. “You can’t take this much? You’re more delicate than my little Snow-Puff.” He was comparing me to a cat. I snapped my mouth shut, biting his fingers instead. Leon didn’t flinch, letting me chew until his hand was slick with blood. With his free hand, he idly stroked my hair twice. “Always biting,” he murmured. “One of these days, I’ll have to file down those sharp little fangs of yours.” 3 I spent the entire winter in the Obsidian Directorate’s fortress. I was only allowed to return to the Rosewood Palace once my mother was well. A lady-in-waiting stopped me at the door. The Queen Mother was awake, but she wasn’t seeing visitors. Not even me. Three days later, my mother requested permission to leave the capital and retire to the Royal Sepulcher to “tend to the late king’s memory.” She left without a single word of farewell. I saw her carriage pulling away and I ran, chasing it past the palace walls, my throat raw from shouting her name. I fell, scrambled back up, and kept running. I was finally caught at the Crimson Gate. Leon’s arm wrapped around my waist, a band of steel. “Stop, Your Highness. It’s long past the gates. Where do you think you’re going?” The road ahead was empty. The carriage was gone. I shoved him away like a madman, my eyes burning. “Go away! Get away from me! All of you, just go!” My voice cracked into a hysterical shriek. “Leave! Just leave me! Leave me with nothing!” Let me be utterly alone, trapped in this gilded cage to rot. Leon frowned, clamping a hand over my mouth and pinning me against the cold stone of the palace wall. “What are you shouting for?” he hissed. “You useless thing. Can’t you survive without your mother?” I glared at him, a venomous, hateful stare. He wasn’t intimidated in the slightest. His voice softened, turning into a low, coaxing murmur. “I won’t leave. How about I take care of you, hmm?” I couldn’t push him away. I could only stare at him as fresh tears spilled from my eyes. Leon watched me for a long moment. “Don’t cry,” he commanded. I cried harder. What right did he have to tell me what to do? He didn’t want me. Just like my mother. 4 Leon wasn’t always a eunuch. He was born Caelan de Valerius, son of the Minister of Justice. At eight, he wrote an ode so brilliant the King himself praised him as “a dragon destined for more than this small pond” and appointed him as my eldest brother’s companion. When I was five, Caelan stole my candied fruits. At six, he took me hunting for birds’ nests. At seven, he bribed me with sugar sculptures to call him “big brother.” At nine, he tricked me into fishing the most prized koi from the imperial gardens so we could roast it over a fire. My mother was so furious her hair practically stood on end. She grabbed my ear and yelled, “Stay away from that little hellion from House Valerius!” So, Caelan taught me how to climb walls and crawl through doggy doors to escape her. When I was thirteen, the Crown Prince was accused of treason and sentenced to death. House Valerius was dragged down with him, branded as co-conspirators. His entire clan was executed. Only Caelan was spared, brought into the palace to serve, reborn as the young eunuch, Leon. It wasn’t me who saved him. It was my second brother, Julian. Julian knelt in the snow before the King’s chambers for half a day to beg for Caelan’s life. The act shattered his already fragile health, leaving him with a sickness that would never heal. Leon once told me he would have rather died than have Julian kneel for him, to have been the cause of his lifelong ailment. Leon adored Julian. But that day… that day, I had also knelt. I knelt in my own palace for a day and a night, my forehead bruised and bloody from kowtowing, begging my mother to intervene, to save Caelan’s life. But in the end, I was powerless. Leon was assigned to Julian’s Ivory Palace, and from then on, we were strangers. I thought he blamed me for not saving him. I once cornered him in a corridor, trying to explain in a low, humbled voice, trying every means I knew to have him transferred to my service. But Leon refused. He said he wanted to stay with Julian. He said, “The Fourth Prince is showered with every imaginable favor. The Second Prince has nothing. I have to stay with him.” And among all those favors showered upon me, the one I truly wanted was missing. Leon’s. He gave the part of him that should have been mine to Julian. Later, the rivalry for the throne between Julian and me grew fiercer. My personal attendant, Pip, a boy who had been with me for years, “slipped” and drowned in a pond. Pip, who always covered for Caelan and me when we snuck out to play. Pip, who knew just how to rub my stomach when I ate too much. And it was Leon who had killed him. With his own hands. Pip knew how to swim. He crawled out of that pond three times, and three times Leon kicked him back in, until he didn’t surface again. I hated Leon. I hated him with a fury that burned away my sleep. I used my father’s favor to have Leon transferred to my palace. I took a whip to him, grabbing him by the collar and demanding to know why. Why he had killed my friend. Leon just laughed, a low, chilling sound. “Because he was in the Second Prince’s way.” I slapped him across the face. “A fine dog Julian has raised.” I sneered. “The servants whisper that you’re his bedwarmer, his little pet. I didn’t believe it, but now I see I thought too highly of you.” I pressed my foot down on the scar between his legs, on his wound, on his nothingness. “Tell me,” I hissed, “can you even please him, without your… equipment? How exactly do you serve him?” Leon let me crush him, swallowing the pain. A smile played on his lips. “Is that jealousy I hear, Your Highness?” The words stung like a wasp. A sharp, piercing pain shot through my heart. Blinded by rage, I kicked him away. I shielded my wounded heart with the most vicious words I could find. A prince like me, was I supposed to kneel and beg for a scrap of affection from this heartless, treacherous slave? “Jealousy?” I spat. “I’m just disgusted.” “I can’t imagine how my brother can even stomach it. A rootless thing like you. What kind of pleasure could you possibly give? Aren’t you afraid of dirtying him?” I forced a contemptuous smile, my eyes crimson with malice, and I ground my heel down, tormenting him with a mad frenzy. I wanted him to hurt. I wanted him to hate. I wanted him to feel the same tearing pain that I felt. “I gave you a chance to be a man, and you refused. So be a good dog for me now.” Leon stayed in my palace for a year and a half. I unleashed all my hatred and fury upon him. He always remained silent, his eyes downcast, enduring it all. Until he was transferred out of my service and into the Heartstone Palace, to serve my father, the King. From there, Leon rose meteorically. He became my father’s most trusted advisor, Director of the Obsidian Directorate, the keeper of the King’s seal. And after my father died, it was Leon who put Julian on the throne, abandoning me completely. 5 During the Spring Hunt, the new king, Julian, seemed to finally remember me, the loser in the game of succession. He invited me to join him. When it was time to depart, a pageboy came for me. As I approached the royal carriage, I could hear laughter from within. It was Julian, whining like a child. “I take it back. That was a bad move. I don’t want to play my piece there.” Leon’s voice, calm and measured, replied, “Your Majesty, a move made cannot be unmade.” “And what if I do?” Leon sighed, his patience seemingly infinite. “Nothing, Your Majesty. You are the king. Whatever you do is right.” Julian chuckled twice, then broke into a fit of coughing. The pageboy announced my arrival in a hushed tone. I boarded the carriage, my eyes fixed on the floor. I knelt, prostrating myself fully. “Your servant, Adrian Thorne, greets His Majesty. Long may you reign.” The carriage fell silent. Another bout of coughing, then Julian’s gentle voice. “It’s only been a few days, Adrian. Must you be so formal? You treat me like a stranger.” My eyes remained downcast. “I would not dare.” “Don’t kneel. Get up,” he said, a note of displeasure in his tone. I rose obediently. I saw Leon holding a small bowl, stirring a concoction of pear water with a silver spoon. He waited for it to cool before handing it to Julian. “Drink this.” He was capable of such tenderness. Just not for me. The one Leon chose, from beginning to end, was always Julian. Even the throne, Leon had won it for him. My father had once doted on me more than anyone. Yet on his deathbed, he named Julian his successor. It was Leon who delivered the decree. I didn’t believe it. The court didn’t believe it. But Leon crushed all dissent, killing a few key nobles with brutal efficiency to force Julian onto the throne. He knew. He knew how desperately I wanted to be king. He knew how much my mother and I had sacrificed for that ambition. He knew that for one of us to rise, the other must fall. He knew it all. And he chose Julian. In truth, Leon had always chosen Julian. I was the fool who thought I could ever compete. Only after I had fallen, broken and defeated, did I understand. What isn’t yours can never be taken, no matter how you fight. Now, having lost everything, I had finally accepted it. I was a prince of the blood. What kind of servant couldn’t I have? Was it really worth losing myself over a castrated slave?

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My husband is incredibly wealthy, but I don’t love him. Back in college, he moved heaven and earth trying to win over my roommate, Chloe. Lavish gifts arrived one after another, and he once famously had nine thousand roses delivered to the front of our dorm building. All the girls in our hall got a piece of the action, hauling armfuls of roses back to our rooms like we were looting a botanical garden. The only one who remained unimpressed was Chloe herself. She even warned Julian Payne to never bother her again. “He’s rich, and he’s not bad-looking. Are you sure you don’t want him?” I asked one night, my face covered in a sheet mask, finally voicing the question that had been nagging at me. She had a face that could launch a thousand ships, yet she spent all her time with a broke upperclassman who juggled four part-time jobs. “No way. He’s so stuffy and serious. If you want him, you go for it,” Chloe said with a dismissive sniff. I rested my chin on my hand, gave it a moment’s thought, and nodded. “Fine.” “I will.”

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My bones had been pinned by a Soul-Binding Ward for thirteen years, and my soul had grown so bored it was threatening to fray apart. Then I met her—the trueborn daughter, cast out by House Croft. She lay upon my skeletal remains, tears streaming down her face. “I want to die,” she whispered. “You want to live. Let’s trade.” 1 I never imagined that as a wisp of a ghost, I could still be seen. Even less did I imagine that the one who could see me would be the long-lost, trueborn daughter of Marquess Croft. Six months ago, when House Croft was escorting her back to their estate, they passed by my little patch of earth. The carriage stopped beneath the peach tree that had been nourished by my corpse, and a flustered old servant, clutching her stomach, scurried into the bushes to relieve herself. Someone else stepped out of the carriage. It was Lydia, the daughter they had finally found. Her small, palm-sized face met my gaze, and it instantly turned a ghastly white. I hadn’t died prettily. That bitch, Genevieve, had gouged out my eyes and slashed the face that Emperor Alaric had once worshipped. Even my hands, so skilled with a blade, had been hacked off and thrown into the fishpond in the palace’s back garden. Now, my skeleton was nailed to this potter’s field, and I was bored to tears. I’d spend my days hanging upside down from a crooked peach tree, swinging like a pendulum. As a cold gust of wind blew, my blood-soaked head swung down, right in front of Lydia. Her dark, lustrous eyes widened in terror. My invisible blood dripped, drip by drip, onto her face. Baring my fangs, I blew a ghostly breath at her. “Let me get a whiff of that bread of yours, and I’ll let you live.” 2 Her hands trembled as she fumbled for what felt like an eternity before producing two cold, hard buns. I was profoundly disappointed. “Are you trying to get rid of a beggar? I want a smell of something good. Like that.” My long tongue shot out, pointing towards the jerky the grooms and footmen were chewing on nearby. She followed my gaze, her face flushing with embarrassment. Her lashes, like tiny fans, fluttered down as she spoke in a voice as faint as a mosquito’s buzz, “I haven’t been formally accepted back into the family yet. House Croft doesn’t support idlers. This is my own food.” My three-foot-long tongue froze, then slowly retracted. House Croft was so wealthy that even the scraps they threw to the dogs were finer than the buns in her hands. More than a decade ago, at a royal banquet, I had seen their adopted daughter, draped in gold and jewels like a celestial princess, outshining even the royal children. Back then, the Marchioness would even shed tears in public when mentioning her lost daughter. “She is my only comfort,” she would say, “saving me from a life of endless sorrow.” Yet, in just over a decade, she had neglected her own flesh and blood to this state. A child so unloved that no one of importance could even spare the time to escort her home. As I lay atop the tree, sighing at the cold indifference of the world, Lydia’s heart softened. “Here!” She mustered her courage, asked the groom for half a piece of his half-eaten jerky, and held it up, too timid to even lift her head. “Don’t cry,” she murmured. “I found a way for you.” I froze, only then realizing that bloody tears were streaming from my empty eye sockets again. “I wasn’t…” CRACK! 3 Before I could finish, the old servant’s disciplinary rod whipped through my spectral head and struck Lydia’s hand. “A lady must learn a lady’s etiquette! House Croft is a noble family of the highest standing. How could you eat scraps offered in pity? A single piece of jerky, and you’ve disgraced the entire House. You are base and vulgar, and you must be punished.” The jerky fell to the ground, covered in dust. The footman and groom stepped on it, then stood on either side of the old servant, their arms akimbo, sneering. “Look at her. Even the scullery maids are more refined. And she’s supposed to be a ‘lady’?” “If it weren’t for the marriage alliance they need her for, you think anyone would want her back? The Marquess and Marchioness saw her five years ago. Deemed her an illiterate embarrassment and left her there.” “Putting on airs as a lady. She should look at where she came from. An orphan girl raised cleaning out privies will never wash the stench away.” Lydia clutched her sleeves, so ashamed she couldn’t lift her head. But the trio only grew more smug, their words a torrent of mockery and humiliation. The constant smack of the old woman’s rod and the snickering of the men were grating on my nerves. My mind drifted back to the days when I killed. “Have you ever seen a human pendulum?” Lydia, her eyes brimming with tears, flinched. “You’re about to.” With a flick of my tongue, I coiled it around the old servant and hoisted her into the peach tree. A V-shaped branch clamped around her neck. I blew a puff of spectral air, and she began to swing, back and forth, her feet kicking wildly. “Faster?” I asked Lydia. Lydia was stunned speechless. The old woman was choking, on the verge of death. The footman and groom screamed and rushed to help. I let out a cackle. “Want to see a pinwheel?” I wrapped them in the branches, sending them spinning violently. They shrieked hysterically, piss and shit flying everywhere, crying for their mothers until their eyes rolled back in their heads. The little girl, through her fear, began to laugh. An hour later, the three of them lay unconscious on the ground in a neat, soiled row. “Looks like they’ve all disgraced themselves now,” I said. Lydia and I sat together, feasting on the jerky. “What’s your name?” she asked. “When I get back to the capital, I’ll save up and pay for a ritual to help your soul pass on.” My name was a burden she couldn’t bear. Besides, my soul couldn’t pass on. “I’ve been marked by a Soul-Binding Ward. Don’t waste your effort. Besides…” I didn’t tell her that my soul was on the verge of dissipating completely. “Just tell them you were attacked by a ghost. Looking like that, they’ll be too scared to say otherwise themselves.” I swung myself back up into the tree. “Live well,” I told her. “After all, living is the one thing I want most.” Living, to send all those bastards to hell. She stared, a flicker of understanding in her eyes. “You like the smell of meat. I’ll come see you again. I’ll bring you a whole roasted chicken.” She swore she’d be back with a roasted chicken, but six months passed, and I saw no sign of her. 4 “I know about the Soul-Binding Ward. To be free, it requires a life for a life. I went to the Grand Cathedral and got a talisman. If you just nod, I will give you my life.” A clap of thunder illuminated Lydia’s deathly pale face. She was a ghost of the vibrant girl I’d met six months ago. Collapsed beneath my peach tree, her energy was gone. “I didn’t forget you. I just… I couldn’t get out. I don’t have the chicken. Please don’t be angry.” Her voice was a wisp of air. “See? Even at death’s door, I was thinking of you.” She only wanted to die. She could have done it anywhere. But the capital was thirty miles away. She had walked the entire night through mud and rain to get here. “Who did this to you? The Crofts?” A grim smile touched her lips, her face streaked with a mixture of rain and tears. In the next instant, a sharp dagger sliced across her wrist. “It was the world. It was me, for being so foolish and weak. This is my fate.” Blood gushed from the wound, staining the rain-soaked talisman she clutched to her chest. It flared with a golden light. “Come here. Come hold me. You’re the only one who ever protected me.” Her voice was a plea. “Oh, right. You don’t have hands. Then… I’ll hold you.” No matter how I tried to save her, my efforts were futile. “I want to die, and you want to live. Let’s trade. I’m begging you.” When a person truly wants to die, no one can save them. She tore the wound deeper. The rain washed her blood down, a crimson tide that soaked my entire skeleton. “Living is already so hard,” she sobbed. “Don’t let me die with regrets. At least… if you live, someone will remember me, right?” Her spirit began to drift from her body, growing fainter and fainter, until only a single, fragile breath remained. I drew closer. “What are your wishes?” I whispered. “I’ll fulfill them. All of them.” She smiled and wrapped her arms around my skeletal frame, burying her face in my chest. “You have to live a good life,” she murmured. “I’ll be reborn into a better family. It’s a win-win for both of us.” A win? Unless I dragged every last one of them down to hell with me, her death would be for nothing. That night, a forgotten daughter of House Croft died. And in a potter’s field, a demoness was reborn. The peach tree withered overnight. Carrying Lydia’s body, I walked down the mountain. I knew nothing of the next life, but in this one, I would have my pound of flesh. 5 Before returning to the capital, I paid a visit to the Royal Chapel. There, an Empress Dowager spent her days in prayer, eating nothing but vegetables, all for the soul of her son. She used to despise me. The time she forced me to kneel, I lost my eight-month-old child. But now, after I told her the truth about how her son really died, she was more than eager to climb aboard my ship of vengeance and sail with me into a storm of our own making, all the way back to the Crimson Citadel. With our pact sealed, I returned to House Croft on the very day of the false daughter’s coming-of-age ceremony. The hall was filled with joyous celebration. Everyone crowded around the fake heiress, Isabelle, showering her with priceless jewels and treasures as if they were common trinkets. They congratulated her on becoming a woman, advising her to be graceful and proper, to secure her bright future. It was a picture of perfect, triumphant bliss. No one remembered that today was also Lydia’s birthday. The Marchioness pulled the charming Isabelle into her embrace, a dozen large chests laid out before her. “These are from your grandmother’s dowry. I only received them myself after giving birth to your brother. I’m not giving them to anyone else, only to my precious Isabelle.” Isabelle pouted, burying her face in her mother’s shoulder with a look of innocent cunning. “I knew Mother loved me best. I love you so, so much, Mother.” Haris, the heir of House Croft, stepped forward with a gentle smile, presenting his own gift. “Brother may not have family heirlooms, but this five-colored agate was a gift from the Emperor himself. I had to beg Prince Damien for it, so its significance is quite different.” Prince Damien? The Third Prince. It was him. Well now, what an unexpected delight. The Marquess, seated on his high chair, stroked his beard with satisfaction. “And Father’s gift is no less grand. I swallowed my pride and petitioned His Majesty. After you come of age, he will grant a swift betrothal between you and the Third Prince, so my little pearl may have her heart’s desire.” Isabelle’s eyes lit up, but she still stomped her foot playfully at the Marquess. “Father, you’re embarrassing me! Saying such things in front of everyone! I’m not speaking to you anymore.” The crowd roared with laughter, their words dripping with saccharine sweetness. Only my body—Lydia’s body—still carried the phantom pains of her hidden wounds. A cold wind blew, a chill that seeped into my bones, and I shivered involuntarily. “You know what shame is? I thought you were shameless by nature.” “Brother, you’re so mean! Mother, scold him for me.” “Alright, alright, I’ll scold him. Haris, don’t tease your sister. As punishment, you’ll take her shopping tomorrow, and you will pay for everything.” Haris feigned misery. “Mother, that’s cruel! You know very well my entire allowance is spent on this little glutton.” Isabelle stuck out her tongue and made a face. “Serves you right! Nya-nya-nya.” “And what about me?” My voice cut through the boisterous laughter, a discordant note that silenced the room. I stepped out from the shadows. “What do I get?” 6 The laughter died instantly. Every face in the room was etched with the displeasure of having their pleasantries interrupted. Haris shot me a cold glare. “So you decided to come back. I thought you had more pride than that. Couldn’t make it on your own, so you came crawling back, did you?” He sneered. “Do you have any idea how many days Isabelle couldn’t eat or sleep, worrying about you after you ran away?” “Running off with a man… you truly have no shame. You’ve brought nothing but disgrace upon this house.” Isabelle, who had stiffened at the sight of me, quickly masked a flicker of hatred. Biting her lip, her innocent eyes welled with moisture as she tugged on Haris’s sleeve. “Brother, please don’t say that.” “I’m not angry with sister anymore,” she said, her voice trembling. “Even though she threw me out of the house and I nearly died… I’m grateful for the years of comfort House Croft gave me. I’m content.” She then turned to me, her expression one of genuine concern. “I’m sure she was led astray. Now that she’s back, she must know her mistake.” She looked back at our parents. “Sister, you’ve returned. I think… I should give everything that is yours back to you now.” “But sister,” she added, her tone gentle yet pointed, “you vanished without a word and made Father and Mother worry sick. Don’t forget to apologize to them.” The Marchioness glared at me, a cold sneer on her lips. “I wouldn’t dare accept it.” “The last time you ‘apologized’ to Isabelle, you pushed her into the lake.” “If you apologize to me, who knows? You might just toss my old bones into a ditch next.” “Besides,” she said, her voice dripping with ice, “I only have one daughter. And that is Isabelle. Don’t you dare try to claim a place that isn’t yours.” Isabelle blinked her large, innocent eyes at me, a picture of helplessness. “Sister, just apologize. Please.” Seeing my impassive stance, the Marquess roared, “Kneel, you insolent whelp! Now!” 7 I didn’t move an inch, but a wave of sorrow and heartache, a phantom pain from Lydia, washed over me. Her soul was gone, yet her body still grieved. I looked directly at them, giving them one last chance. “Everything she has… shouldn’t I have it too?” “You dare compare yourself to Isabelle?” Haris snarled. “You’re a country bumpkin with no manners who has repeatedly disgraced this family. If Isabelle hadn’t protected you, you’d have died a thousand times over by now.” “Ran off with a man? Who told you that?” I asked coolly. Isabelle, feigning a look of innocent confusion, walked towards me. “Sister, don’t be afraid,” she cooed. “Now that you’re back, your family will take care of everything.” “That letter… I’ve already destroyed it for you. Just admit your mistake to Father and Mother, and you can still be the eldest daughter of House Croft. We can be a happy family again.” “Look at your sister! Even now, she’s speaking up for you, and still you’re so ungrateful, trying to frame her again and again! I was wrong to have doted on her so much. Tell me, in what way are you even her equal?” the Marchioness shrieked. “Your mother is right,” the Marquess grumbled. “If you weren’t my own flesh and blood, I’d have thrown you out on some remote farmstead long ago.” “Father and Mother are too soft-hearted. A menace like her doesn’t deserve to be a Croft.” “Please, don’t say that. You’ll hurt her feelings,” Isabelle said softly. She reached out, her hand closing around my arm in a show of sisterly affection. Her eyes darkened, and her sharp nails dug into my skin. “Isn’t that right… sister?” she hissed. Hss… She was poised, ready for me to shove her away in pain so she could collapse dramatically to the ground. But I didn’t even flinch. Frozen in place, she bit her lip in frustration and whispered furiously, “You’ve learned a few tricks, haven’t you? You filthy bitch. Why didn’t you just die out there?” Was this pathetic little scheme all it took to drive Lydia to her death? I almost had to laugh. “So, the story about me running off with a man… it came from your lips?” A flicker of contempt crossed her eyes, but her face contorted into a mask of pure victimhood. “Sister, are you blaming me? I didn’t mean to…” CRACK. I dislocated her jaw with a flick of my wrist. “As long as you admit it, that’s all that matters. No need to say more.” It happened so fast that the others only reacted when she started clutching her jaw, letting out muffled, panicked squeals. In an instant, they swarmed towards me, ready to seize me. But the nursemaid who led the charge didn’t even get close. A single kick from me shattered her femur, and she collapsed to the floor, screaming in agony. In the same motion, I had a dagger pressed against the paralyzed Isabelle’s throat. “Move, and she dies. Try me.” Perhaps my tone was too calm, making them think I was bluffing. They surged forward again. SLICE. With a twist of my wrist, a deep, finger-length gash opened on Isabelle’s cheek, blood pouring down her face. “Aaaah! It hurts! Father, Mother, Haris, it hurts so much! My face is ruined! My…” “Scream again.” She didn’t dare. I sliced off her earlobe with the dagger and ground it under my heel. The arrogant defiance from moments ago vanished, replaced by a mask of pure, shrinking terror. The others retreated, huddling behind the Marquess. Only then did I turn my attention back to Isabelle’s nursemaid, who was writhing on the floor. 8 “Tell me,” I said, my foot pressing down on her. “Who threw your mistress out of this house, and how did she end up in the lake?” The woman, sweating profusely from the pain, was still defiant. “Even if you kill me, my lady, I can only speak the truth. It was you! You couldn’t stand the Second Miss, and when you failed to kill her, you drove her out!” “The Second Miss was nearly abducted by ruffians! She still has the scars on her leg to prove it!” A stubborn one. Interesting. I had just lifted my foot when the Marchioness shrieked, “You ungrateful wretch! Have you lost your mind? If it’s gifts you want, I’ll give them to you!” “But if you dare harm my Isabelle, I will never acknowledge you! I will disown you!” She was so loud. Lydia, this must have hurt so much. SWISH. I tore the earring from Isabelle’s remaining ear and flung it. It struck the Marchioness’s elaborate headdress, sending it tumbling. Her hair fell in disarray around her pale, shocked face, her carefully crafted dignity shattered. “Next time, I’ll aim for your eyes. They’re useless to you anyway, since you’re blind to the truth.” The Marchioness collapsed to the ground in terror, silenced. The others, having witnessed my methods, didn’t dare make a move. 9 “I gave you a chance,” I said, my voice dangerously soft. “You didn’t take it. You have no one to blame but yourself.” The tip of my dagger rested on the nursemaid’s wrist. With a flick, I severed her tendons. “Still not going to tell the truth?” She didn’t answer, only screamed. I rubbed my temples, annoyed by the noise, and then plunged the dagger straight into her side, just deep enough to graze her lung. I even gave the hilt a deliberate twist. It wouldn’t kill her, but the pain would be worse than death. The blood that flowed from the wound was a stark, crimson warning that kept the others frozen in place. In the years I fought alongside Alaric, I’d spent time in dungeons, perfecting methods of torture to extract information. Using them on a mere house servant felt like overkill. But methods aren’t about sophistication. They’re about results. Sure enough, after just two stabs, the nursemaid pissed herself in agony. Just as she was about to speak, Haris cried out, “What do you want? We’ll give it to you!” “Do you want Isabelle’s chambers? Formal recognition? The betrothal to the Third Prince?” “Just put down the dagger, and we can talk. Don’t take a life, or even I won’t be able to help you.” His incessant babbling was interrupting my interrogation. A flame of rage ignited within me. “You. Come here. I’ll tell you what I want.” He hesitated, but after a tearful glance from Isabelle, he approached. “You…” Before he could draw the knife hidden behind his back, I seized him by the throat. A dozen slaps rained down on his face with sharp, cracking sounds. I slammed him to the ground, where he spat out a mouthful of blood and teeth before passing out, the hidden dagger clattering beside him. “You talk too much, you worthless fool.” The Marquess met my smiling eyes, his body trembling with rage, but for the sake of his children, he swallowed his pride. Gritting his teeth, he commanded, “Do as she says! No one moves!” I gave him a satisfied smirk and turned back to the nursemaid, patting her cheek with the cold blade. “Ready to talk?” She was no longer defiant. The truth spilled out of her like beans from a sack, a full account of the abuse and persecution Lydia had suffered. 10 The country girl who had returned home was never welcomed by her family. On her first day back, she made the false daughter cry and was locked away in the smallest courtyard to “learn her manners.” Later, she was accused of breaking the false daughter’s imperial gift, of setting fire to her own courtyard in a fit of pique, and even of pushing the false daughter into a lake out of jealousy over the Third Prince’s affections. Finally, using her status as the “trueborn daughter,” she was said to have driven the false one from the house. If House Croft hadn’t found her in time, Isabelle would have been “ruined by bandits.” A single, fingernail-sized scar on her leg was enough for the entire family to cast the true daughter out to “teach her a lesson.” And then, she supposedly ran off with a lover in a fit of anger. “It was all the Second Miss… no, it was all Isabelle’s command,” the nursemaid blubbered. “She couldn’t stand being second to the trueborn daughter, so she wanted Lady Lydia dead.” “From the very beginning, it was all the Second Miss’s scheme. Lady Lydia never did a single wicked thing.” “When Lady Lydia was locked in the ancestral hall, the Second Miss offered to bring her meals, but she never brought a single one. For a whole month, Lady Lydia survived on the servants’ leftover soup.” “The birthday gift Lady Lydia prepared for the Marchioness was a safety pouch she embroidered herself, stitch by stitch. Not that lump of dirt the Second Miss swapped it with.” “The Marquis’s cold medicine was also brewed by Lady Lydia, who watched the stove all night. But she was stopped at the study door, and the Second Miss added laxatives to it, framing her.” “Lady Lydia truly only glanced at the heir’s painting; she never touched it. It was the Second Miss who used her free access to the study to destroy it herself.” Confined, forced to kneel, beaten, and finally cast out to fend for herself. Lydia had endured so much in her own home. She had returned full of hope, seeking the love she had never known, only to find it had been given to another. Her own flesh and blood, the people who should have loved and protected her, gave her nothing but hatred and malice. Betrayed, despised, and persecuted by her own family. How helpless she must have felt. I sighed and continued. “And what about the elopement?” The nursemaid trembled. “Lady Lydia never eloped. After the Marquis and Marchioness threw her out because of the Second Miss’s ‘disappearance’—to teach her how hard life was for a woman without family protection—the Second Miss had already hired bandits to rape and murder her on the outskirts of the capital.” “As for the letter, it was written by Iris, the handmaiden. She’s skilled at forgery.” My cold gaze scanned the crowd and locked onto Iris. She began to tremble with fear. Before my blade was even raised, she fell to her knees, corroborating every word the nursemaid had said and adding many more details. Finally, she kowtowed, banging her head on the floor. “The Second Miss forced me! We’re just servants, how could we refuse? Please, my lady, spare me! Spare my life!” You see? When you’re the one holding the blade, everyone bows to you. Lydia, my dear, all you were missing was a knife. Isabelle’s guilt was undeniable. “Take Isabelle away,” I commanded. “And give her the full treatment.” “Who dares!” 11 The footman I had deliberately allowed to escape returned, bringing with him a furious Third Prince, Damien. What can I say? He lacked Alaric’s cunning. He didn’t even inherit a third of his mother’s looks. As a child, he had a certain charm, but now, every inch of him was detestable. “You have the audacity to look at me? Lydia, you are utterly depraved.” Cradling the broken Isabelle, and surrounded by his guards, he began to rant. “Grievously wounding a court official’s daughter and my fiancée… Lydia, you must be mad. You’re begging to die.” “Men! Seize this wicked wretch and deliver her to the High Court for severe punishment!” “Oh? Seizing their daughter in their own home? Have you asked for their permission?” I asked, a hint of amusement in my voice. Even after learning the truth, even after knowing all the suffering Lydia had endured, the entire Croft family remained silent as the Third Prince condemned their own pathetic daughter and sister. A daughter’s suffering was nothing compared to the family’s wealth and future. Oh, Lydia. They aren’t worth it. I had given them their chance. Now, they would reap what they had sown. The prince smirked, his arrogance a mirror of someone I once knew. “If I say you are not a Croft, who here would dare say otherwise?” The Marquess lowered his eyes, feigning indifference. The Marchioness’s lips moved, but no sound came out. Only Haris, battered and bruised, spat out venomously, “Kill her! I only have one sister, and that is Isabelle.” The prince shot me a look that said, See? No one will protect you, and looked down his nose at me. “Did you think that by harming Isabelle, you could marry me? Dream on.” “Now that the Crofts have disowned you, I will make you suffer a fate worse than death to atone for what you did to Isabelle. If you know what’s good for you, kill yourself here and now, in front of her. If you do, I might grant you the mercy of a complete corpse.” I took a sharp breath. “So, Your Highness, in your quest to be a white knight, you would ignore the truth and condemn me to death, in defiance of the law?” He scoffed. “What scheme? Isabelle never schemed against you. There was only you, running rampant through the house like a madwoman, killing at will.” “Isabelle was merely trying to stop your frenzy when you disfigured her. Lord Croft tried to reason with you, and you knocked his teeth out for his troubles. That is the only truth.” That he could twist the truth so blatantly in public was all the confirmation I needed. Seeing my strange smile, he waved his hand dismissively. “Men, take her to the High Court. Tell the Chief Justice to follow my version of events, and to interrogate her… harshly.” “I’m afraid, Your Highness, that I am unable to comply.” The Chief Justice of the High Court stepped out from the shadows. But he was on my side. I smiled, a smile as cold as the grave. “My apologies. I’m here on imperial orders to investigate a crime. As for everyone present who conspired to twist the truth and have me killed… you are all under arrest. Take them to the dungeons.”

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At the Quantum Solutions’ annual showcase, I planned to finally go public with the CEO—my girlfriend, Annalise. But just as I was about to make my move, a man stood up from the audience. Her long-lost first love. His voice, dripping with arrogance, cut through the expectant silence. “Anna, I can finally stand by your side, out in the open.” Annalise offered me no explanation. Instead, a smile bloomed on her face as she wrapped him in an embrace. She turned to the crowd, her voice bright. “This is Hawthorne Croft. He will be joining us as the Chief Scientist for our new quantum computer project.” The hall erupted in thunderous applause, a sea of faces celebrating the reunion of two perfect souls. Annalise caught my stony expression and shot me a warning glare. “Ethan, wipe that look off your face. You have a problem with this?” I gave a slow, deliberate nod. Then, in front of everyone, I walked to the edge of the stage and dropped the brand-new Chief Scientist ID badge into the trash can. 1 “Of course I have a problem,” I said, my voice ringing with a calm I didn’t feel. “Since Professor Croft is so brilliant, why don’t you just get married right here, today? Give everyone a real reason to celebrate.” A collective gasp rippled through my colleagues. They were stunned. After all, I had poured every ounce of my being into the quantum computer project, a crucible that had nearly broken my health. But the shock quickly melted into understanding. Thumbs-up were discreetly aimed my way, whispers of “Good for you” and “So much class” reaching my ears. They understood my magnanimity. Only Annalise, on stage, seemed to see the truth. Her gaze could have frozen hell over. I couldn’t be bothered to dignify it with a response. She despised office romances, a convenient excuse to keep our five-year marriage a complete secret. Every time I begged to go public, she’d preach about setting an example as CEO. She promised we’d tell the world once the quantum computer was a success. And now, she had handed my success, my life’s work, to him. As the crowd showered Hawthorne with admiration—admiration that should have been mine—Annalise’s patience finally snapped. “Ethan, what is this childish tantrum about?” A bitter smile touched my lips. “I’d rather miss a thousand chances than betray a single person.” My loyalty had been my creed. And it had been repaid with this. I said nothing more, turning my back on the stage and walking away. That project was my blood and sweat. I had leveraged every contact, every friendship, to crack the core quantum problem in a record three years. I had collapsed from exhaustion in the lab more times than I could count, all to build the pedestal she now stood upon. But the love I had for her had turned to ash. I would not be the architect of another man’s triumph. The project was nearly complete, but a “paper-pusher” academic like Hawthorne? He could have another five years and he’d still be lost in my code. Down in the parking garage, I swung my leg over the cheap electric scooter Annalise had so “graciously” bought me. A humorless laugh escaped my lips. For five years, she held the purse strings. Every time I asked about buying a car, she shot me down. “The company has cars, Ethan. Why waste the money? Must you always be so concerned with keeping up appearances?” Yet in five years of marriage, citing “professionalism,” she never once let me ride in her car. I had accepted it, believing she was just being frugal for the company’s sake. It wasn’t until Hawthorne arrived back in the country and she immediately assigned him a Porsche that the truth hit me. It was never about appearances. It was about me. My heart was a dead weight in my chest. As I was about to leave, a brand-new, gleaming Porsche blocked my path. Hawthorne rolled down the window, his face a mask of contempt. “Ethan, look at you. Pathetic. Did you really think Anna would ever acknowledge a loser like you? Hilarious.” He sneered. “Thank God she announced it was me today. Imagine the entire tech world laughing if it had been you.” It was his classic move: provoke me, then play the victim to drive a wedge between Annalise and me. So many of our fights had started this way. But today, I was done playing his game. Just then, Annalise came running out of the elevator. In a flash, Hawthorne deliberately jerked the steering wheel, slamming the Porsche into a concrete pillar with a sickening crunch. “Ethan, oh my God, I’m so sorry!” he cried out, his voice a pitch-perfect imitation of panic. “I didn’t see you there. I know you’re upset that I got the position, but you shouldn’t have just blocked my way! If something had happened, I would have felt guilty for the rest of my life.” He scrambled out of the car, rushing towards me with a look of feigned concern. I ignored his performance and tried to maneuver my scooter around the mess, but Annalise’s fury reached me first. A vicious kick sent me and my scooter sprawling across the concrete. “If you want to die, go do it somewhere else! Don’t you dare harass Hawthorne!” A single glance at the security camera would have shown her who was lying. But she didn’t look. In that moment, the last embers of my love for her died. Hawthorne pretended to help me up. I shoved his hand away in disgust, and he immediately stumbled backward, collapsing to the ground with a pained whimper. It was pathetic acting, but for his audience of one, it was a masterpiece. Without hesitation, Annalise slapped me hard across the face, the sound echoing in the silent garage. Then she was at Hawthorne’s side, cradling him in her arms, her voice laced with panic and tenderness. She ran three red lights getting him to the hospital. Watching them speed away, I remembered last year, when I’d worked myself into a stomach hemorrhage to land a crucial investor. Her response had been to send an assistant with a bottle of antacids. A bitter laugh escaped me. I picked up my scooter and went home. Later that night, Hawthorne posted on his social media. Sometimes a little accident is a blessing in disguise. It’s so nice to be taken care of. The picture was of Annalise, smiling softly as she spoon-fed him in his hospital bed. I stared at it, my face a blank mask, and typed a single comment: Congratulations. A moment later, my phone rang. It was Annalise. I expected a storm of accusations. Instead, her voice was a soft whisper. “Ethan… Hawthorne is just like that. Once he settles in at work, I’ll tell everyone about us. I promise.” “The Chief Scientist title is just for show,” she continued, “You’ll still be leading the project behind the scenes. Everyone will answer to you.” “Mm-hmm,” I said, my voice flat. A slap, then a sweet promise. I’d been eating that particular brand of poison for five years. I was full. Sensing my coldness, she fell silent for a moment. “I left a gift for you in the drawer,” she finally said. “A little something to make up for today. Please, let’s not fight anymore, okay?” I hung up, went to the drawer, and pulled out a beautifully wrapped box. A small, elegant card was attached. It read: For Hawthorne. So it was his gift. No wonder she sounded so guilty. Without another thought, I dropped the unopened box into the trash can. Then, I picked up my phone and dialed the number for Orion Dynamics, the rival tech giant that had been trying to recruit me for years. “I’ve thought about your offer,” I said into the phone. “I can start next month.” 2 Orion Dynamics was a global leader in quantum computing, and they had been relentlessly pursuing me for years, each offer more generous than the last. But I had never wavered, choosing to stay by Annalise’s side. On the other end of the line, the recruiter, fearing I might change my mind, didn’t hesitate. “The VP of R&D position is yours. Stock options, a villa, a luxury car—the works. It’s all in the contract.” A chill washed over me. In five years of marriage, I had received less consideration from my own wife than from a company that was practically a stranger. I thought back to the beginning, when she had casually mentioned her dream of becoming a queen of the tech world. For her, I gave up a tenured professorship at a top international university and started from scratch with her. Countless nights fueled by black coffee and sheer will, debugging code until the lines blurred. Countless trips across the country, chasing funding and partnerships. I had wrecked my body for her dream. In the end, I single-handedly lifted Annalise, who knew next to nothing about quantum theory, to the CEO’s throne, while I remained the anonymous tech guy in the shadows. I had given her everything. And for what? To have it all handed to another man. From now on, I was living for me. That night, I booked a flight and drafted my resignation letter. As a final courtesy, I sent Annalise the complete technical parameters and final testing protocols for the quantum computer. Now, we were even. As I packed my bags, I unearthed a box of memories, buried and forgotten. Matching watches, custom coffee mugs from our first anniversary, a photo of us in the lab, a video of our celebration when we published our first paper together… Annalise had collected these things, piece by piece. I couldn’t pinpoint when the dust had started to settle on them. Probably the day Hawthorne came back. It used to be us against the world, spending all night writing code, celebrating every breakthrough together. When I was sick, she would nurse me back to health, whispering about the future we would build, the world we would change. Then, “us” became her staying out all night for “academic discussions” with Hawthorne. It became me collapsing from exhaustion and being admitted to the hospital, and her not even bothering to visit. I guess even true love has an expiration date. I’d asked her why, once. Why the change? Her answer was a cocktail of impatience and contempt. “We’ve been together for so long, Ethan. Why are you still so immature? Hawthorne is a top expert in the field. Shouldn’t we give him the resources he needs? Can’t you just grow up?” Staring at the photo of us in my hand, I felt a surge of bitter amusement. I tossed it into the trash. My phone buzzed. A message from Annalise. Have to accompany Hawthorne to a symposium tonight. We’ll celebrate our anniversary another day. I didn’t reply. I just silently cancelled the reservation at the Michelin-starred restaurant and the custom-made projection show I had planned as a surprise proposal to renew our vows. In the past, she would have just stood me up without a word. At least this time she gave me a heads-up. Progress, I suppose. Bored, I scrolled through my phone. The top trending story stopped me cold. “Tech CEO and Top Scientist on Moonlit Campus Stroll.” The accompanying photo was of Annalise, arm in arm with Hawthorne, walking through a beautiful university campus. The comments were a waterfall of blessings and heart emojis. I casually liked the post. After a long, hot shower, I went to a bar to unwind and called my lawyer to draft the divorce papers. When I got home in the early hours of the morning, I found Annalise standing by the door, her face a thundercloud. “So now you’ve learned to stay out all night?” 3 I stifled a yawn, genuinely surprised. She hadn’t stayed out. Usually, any event involving Hawthorne was a 24/7 commitment for her. Ignoring her, I headed for the bedroom. She grabbed my arm, her grip like a vise. “Married for years, and now you decide to start hitting the bars? I specifically cancelled my plans at the symposium to come home and be with you, and this is how you treat me?” Her voice rose. “Ethan, do you even remember that you’re a husband?” A husband? The irony was so thick I could choke on it. The woman could lie without blinking, and now she wanted to lecture me on responsibility? She spends our anniversary on a romantic walk with another man, then comes home to grill me about my duties as a husband. I remembered all the nights I’d waited up for her, only to be told I was being “too clingy,” “not independent enough,” that I should “focus my energy on the project.” Now that I’d stopped waiting, she was the one who couldn’t let go. I gave a noncommittal grunt, wanting nothing more than to sleep. But she pulled me back, her eyes cold and hard. “I haven’t showered yet. You can keep me company.” There was a time when a request like that would have sent my heart soaring. I would have meticulously drawn her a bath, setting the water to the perfect temperature, adding a few drops of her favorite essential oil. Now, it just felt like another one of her pointless power plays. My eyes caught the faint, tell-tale red marks on her neck. A wave of nausea washed over me. I pushed her hand away, my patience gone. “I’ve already showered. You go ahead.” She stared at me, her expression a mask of disbelief. “So I came home a little late on our anniversary, and this is how you act? I told you, the symposium ran long! Why do you have to be so childish?” she snapped. “You went out drinking, did I say a word? Why are you giving me this attitude?” With that, she stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind her. In the past, I would have chased after her, ready to apologize and soothe her manufactured outrage. Tonight, I just got into bed and slept like a log. The next morning, I woke up well-rested and made myself a proper breakfast. Just as I was about to eat, I realized Annalise was still home. Usually, she wouldn’t set foot in the house until I had groveled sufficiently. With a sigh, I pushed my plate of food toward her. Her expression softened, just a fraction. Then I noticed a keycard on the table. A lab access card. My heart gave a painful thud. It was a master keycard, the one with the highest level of clearance, granting access to every experimental zone. I had requested one for years, and had always been denied. She saw where I was looking and had the grace to look embarrassed. “That’s a birthday present for Hawthorne,” she said quickly. “I’ll get you one next time.” It felt like plunging into ice water. A self-deprecating smile twisted my lips. Of course. Why would she ever think of me? I just nodded and pushed two documents across the table toward her. “Sign these.” She took them with an annoyed sigh. “Give you an inch and you take a mile.” She signed the first document—my resignation letter—without even looking up. I had expected it, but the casual indifference still felt like a punch to the gut. She signed the second one, too—the divorce agreement. It was only after her pen had left the paper that she realized what it was. Her face went pale, then red with fury. She snatched the agreement and threw it at my chest. “Ethan, is this your new game? Threatening me with divorce? You think I won’t sign it?” she shrieked. “Fine! I’ll sign it! Are you happy now?”

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Just before the holidays, my husband and I were supposed to be driving home together. I wanted the passenger seat, but he gave it to his female colleague and banished me to the back. “Isla gets carsick,” he said, his tone final. “You’re the wife, Rose. You should be more understanding.” He had completely forgotten that I was pregnant, right in the throes of debilitating morning sickness. Halfway through the drive, they started smoking, a deliberate act that forced the nausea to win. I threw up. Disgusted by the smell, my husband, Jason, decided to teach me a lesson. He abandoned me at a desolate rest stop. What he didn’t know was that my family was already waiting for me there. This time, I was going home to get an abortion and file for divorce. Later, when Jason found out our child was gone, the regret drove him insane. … This year’s holiday trip home was supposed to be just the two of us, a road trip in our own car. Jason left early that morning, and I assumed he was out buying some last-minute gifts for our families. I never imagined that when I opened the passenger-side door, I’d find another woman already sitting there. I recognized her from Jason’s social media. A colleague from his department, Isla, I think her name was. Young, beautiful, and currently occupying my seat. Seeing me frozen in the doorway, Isla offered a sweet, saccharine smile. “Hi, Rose.” Then, two male voices piped up from the back. “Morning, Rose!” Stunned, I looked at Jason, my eyes demanding an explanation. “Their hometowns are on the way,” he said, avoiding my gaze. “It’s just a ride-share, no big deal.” “And you didn’t think to tell me?” “I’m so sorry, Rose,” Isla chimed in, her voice a soft, placating melody. “Jason was afraid you wouldn’t agree, so he wanted to ask for forgiveness rather than permission. Please don’t be mad at him.” Not wanting to make a scene in front of his friends, I swallowed my anger. “Fine,” I said, my voice tight. “But Isla, you’ll have to move to the back. I want to sit up front.” “Rose,” Jason cut in, his voice sharp with annoyance. “Isla gets carsick. As the wife, you can be considerate for once. Don’t be so possessive.” “Jason, I’m pregnant! The morning sickness has been hell, you know that!” My raised voice made Isla’s eyes instantly well up with tears. “I’m so sorry, Rose,” she whimpered. “I’ll move to the back right now.” Jason immediately put a hand on her shoulder to stop her. “Rosalind,” he snapped, using my full name like a weapon. “You’re just pregnant, stop being so delicate. Don’t you know how to be a gracious host? Get in the back. Now.” My fists clenched. The weight of their stares pressed down on me. I thought of the baby in my womb and my parents waiting for me at home, and I bit back the torrent of angry words. I said nothing, silently folding myself into the backseat. I didn’t realize my silence was just the prelude to a symphony of humiliation. I was squeezed between two large men, but Jason didn’t spare me a single glance. He was too busy laughing and chatting with Isla, their voices filling the car. Isla caught my eye in the rearview mirror, my discomfort obvious. She put on a show of concern. “Rose, are you too crowded back there? Maybe we can switch at the next rest stop.” Before I could answer, Jason jumped in, a note of embarrassment in his voice. “She’s gained a lot of weight with the pregnancy. Mike, Kevin, is she squishing you guys?” The two men, who had been manspreading and pinning me into the corner, shifted slightly. “Nope, we’re good,” they chuckled. “Great,” Jason said, his voice cheerful. “Isla, don’t worry about her. She’s your senior, the wife. It’s her job to look after you guys.” His words were like knives, each one twisting in my heart. From our first date to our wedding day, Jason and I had been so good together. Everything changed the day Isla joined his company. At first, she was just “the new intern.” Then, she became “a bright girl, a fast learner.” Soon after, he stopped saying her name altogether. Instead, Isla just started appearing in his photos, always standing shoulder-to-shoulder with him, their smiles impossibly bright. I had confronted him about it so many times, only to be met with explosive impatience. “Rosalind! I work my ass off every single day, and I have to come home to your drama? Are you ever not exhausting?” “You’re so damn suspicious, why don’t you just chain me to the bed!” We had a massive fight that day. He stormed out and didn’t come back for a week, leaving me, pregnant and hormonal, to cry myself to sleep every night. Now I saw it clearly. It wasn’t my paranoia. It was his guilt. The emotional turmoil churned my stomach. I was terrified I would actually be sick, so I closed my eyes and tried to force myself to sleep. But they, bored with the long drive, decided to start a game of “Name That Tune.” The music blasted through the speakers, the noise making it impossible to drift off. I was caught in a hazy limbo until Mike’s triumphant shout jolted me awake. “‘Wrong Love’! That’s ‘Wrong Love’! I’ve got five points!” he roared with laughter. He turned his head and met my irritated glare. His face fell. “Uh… Rose… you wanna play with us?” Jason cut him off. “Don’t bother. She’s incredibly boring. A total stick in the mud. She’d just kill the vibe.” He forgot. He forgot that we met at a university club event, where he fell for me at first sight precisely because I was the most energetic and outgoing person in the room. He used to say he loved my cheerful spirit, that it gave him energy. Now, to save face for his colleague, he threw me under the bus without a second thought. “So what was it about Rose that made you marry her, Jason?” Isla asked, her voice a gentle prod. “A guy as amazing as you… she must have some special quality, right?” A faint, mocking smile touched Jason’s lips. “She’s… domestic, I guess. A good caretaker.” “Oh, so like a maid? But probably a really good one, right?” “Yeah, that’s the word I was looking for. A maid.” My nails dug into my palms. Staring at the back of their heads, at the easy intimacy of their banter, I gritted my teeth. “Someone as fun as you, Isla, would probably be a much better match for Jason, don’t you think?” Isla whipped her head around, her eyes already brimming with tears. “Rose! How could you say that? You’ve completely misunderstood. I just look up to Jason as a mentor, that’s all!” The tears began to fall in earnest. “I know, you must be jealous. It’s normal, pregnant women are so emotional. For your sake, and for the baby’s… Jason, you should just drop me off at the next rest stop. I can get a ride from there.” Jason’s face immediately softened with concern. He reached over to comfort her. “Isla, don’t listen to her. My wife has some… issues. She says crazy things. Don’t take it to heart.” “You just stay right where you are,” he assured her. “I would never abandon you.” Then, he turned his head slightly, raising his voice to a snarl. “Rosalind! Why is your mouth so damn vicious? Can’t you just sit in the back and be quiet? Do you have to guilt-trip Isla to feel good about yourself?” “You keep this up, and I’ll kick you out at the next rest stop. Stop embarrassing me. No class at all. And to think they call you ‘the wife’.” Mike and Kevin chimed in, rushing to Isla’s defense. “Rose, that was a really nasty thing to say. There’s nothing going on between Isla and Jason, you can’t just spread rumors like that.” “Yeah, jealousy is one thing, but this is crazy. Does pregnancy really make women lose their minds?” Their words came at me from all sides, a barrage that left me no room to speak. Rage and nausea surged within me. I wanted nothing more than to get out of that car, but the highway blurred past the window, a high-speed prison. My voice trembled. “Jason, I am your wife!” “So what? Because you’re my wife, I have to spoil you and cater to your every whim?” “Apologize to Isla!” A sharp pain lanced through my chest. I turned my head, ignoring him, and pulled out my phone. I found the name of the nearest rest stop on the map and sent it to my parents. I was done with this car. I was done with this ride. Jason saw me on my phone in the rearview mirror. He cranked the music up even louder. “Rosalind, you have time to play on your phone? Apologize to Isla, now!” “It’s okay, Jason. I’m sure Rose didn’t mean it,” Isla sobbed. “Jason, I am not going to apologize,” I said, my voice ice. “Rosalind, do you want me to throw you out on the damn highway?” he threatened. I stared him down in the mirror, my silence a wall of defiance. Finally, Mike broke the tension. “Hey, Jason, man, let’s not do anything crazy on the highway. Don’t want to get points on your license.” That seemed to cool Jason off. “We’ll deal with this when we get home,” he muttered. I turned my head to the window, forcing back the tears that threatened to fall. Whatever love I had left for him was evaporating with every mile. After my silence, the mood in the car grew heavy and awkward. Jason, having calmed down, tried a different tactic, his voice suddenly soft. “Rose, come on. We’re all friends here, and we have a long way to go. Let’s not make things weird over a few angry words, okay? You’re the wife, the older one. Be the bigger person. Show everyone that my wife isn’t some unreasonable shrew, alright?” I didn’t answer. He tried again, his tone wheedling. “Be a good girl. When we get to the rest stop, I’ll buy you those sour plums you love.” I let out a short, sharp laugh. I still said nothing. Humiliated again, Jason’s face hardened. He didn’t speak to me again. The car fell silent. I drifted into a half-sleep, only to be jolted awake by the acrid smell of smoke. My eyes flew open. “Who’s smoking? Don’t you know I’m pregnant?” A plume of smoke wafted from the front seat. “Rose, I asked Jason for permission,” Isla said. “He said it was okay.” “Sorry,” she added, not sounding sorry at all. “I just get stressed and need a cigarette. You’ll just have to bear with it.” “Rosalind,” Jason’s voice was cold. “You upset Isla. You made her stressed. You will bear with it.” Hearing this, Mike and Kevin in the back started shifting. “Well, in that case, mind if we light up too? We’re dying for a smoke.” I stared at them, horrified, my voice shaking. “You want my baby to breathe secondhand smoke?” “It’s just one cigarette, it’s not a big deal,” Mike said, blowing a cloud of smoke in my direction. He offered one to Jason. “Come on, man. You’ve been good for so long. Indulge a little.” Jason took it without hesitation. “Just this once, then.” “JASON! HAVE YOU LOST YOUR FUCKING MIND? THAT’S YOUR CHILD IN MY BELLY!” I screamed. Jason’s hand froze. He passed the cigarette back. “Fine, I won’t. You guys should put yours out, too.” “Jason, please? Let me just finish this one?” Isla whined, her voice a seductive purr. “Alright,” he sighed. “Isla, you can finish yours. After all, this is your wife’s fault.” “Hey! Well, we’ll finish ours too then, there’s not much left,” Kevin added. Jason glanced at me in the rearview mirror. “Rose, just open the window a crack and let them finish. A little smoke isn’t going to kill the baby.” A sharp pain shot through my stomach. I stared at him in disbelief. “Jason, what kind of father are you?” “Rose, your husband is right,” Isla chimed in, exhaling another puff of smoke. “Don’t they say you should raise kids to be tough? If you start now, you’ll probably have a super healthy baby.” The smoke filled the car, a choking, disgusting miasma in the enclosed space. I couldn’t hold it back any longer. I fumbled in my bag, pulled out a plastic bag, and vomited violently into it. The sound and the sudden, foul stench made everyone in the car recoil. “Ah! Don’t get that on me!” Mike shrieked from beside me. “Oh my god, that smell is disgusting. I think I’m going to be sick,” Isla complained. Jason’s voice was panicked, but his words were a warning. “Rosalind! Don’t you dare get that on my car!” In my haste, some of it did splash out. Tears from the violent retching streamed down my face, but I felt a strange sense of satisfaction. I had made them as miserable as they had made me, and I no longer had to suppress the urge to be sick.

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To save me, Ethan pretended to suffer a head injury that left him simple-minded. I gave up my chance to go home, staying behind in this simulated world to take care of him. But in the third year of my self-imposed exile, he deliberately ran me over with his car. Then, he took his childhood sweetheart’s hand and looked down at my broken body. “I’ve been waiting for this day,” he said, his voice cold. “Once you’re dead, Maya and I can take your place as the System’s ‘Player’ and live forever.” It was only then that I realized he had been faking it all along, plotting to steal the System from me. But he didn’t know the whole truth. He didn’t know about the punishment I endured. I spoke to the System, my voice a broken whisper. “I’ve found new hosts willing to take my place. Two of them, in fact. Can you let me go now?” 1 “So you were faking it? The whole time?” Lying in a pool of my own blood, I stared up at Ethan in disbelief. He had his arm wrapped around Maya, his dark eyes filled with a chilling frost. “That’s right.” “How else was I supposed to make you feel sorry for me? To make you stay?” “But I do have you to thank,” he continued, a cruel twist to his lips. “For telling me about the System. Otherwise, I would never have known how to save Maya.” Maya huddled in his arms, her face pale and fragile. She was Ethan’s first love, and she had leukemia. She’d been fighting it for years. “Her illness has nothing to do with me,” Ethan had once told me. “We broke up a long time ago.” Now I knew the truth. To save her, he had been planning this for three long years. A tearing pain, separate from the agony of my injuries, ripped through me. It was the System, punishing me. My mission was to make Ethan fall in love with me. If his love wavered, I suffered. “It hurts…” I gasped. The feeling was like being drawn and quartered. I had experienced it countless times, but I could never get used to it. “Does it really hurt that much?” Ethan asked, watching me with detached curiosity. “I thought you ‘Players’ could just have the System turn off the pain.” His casual indifference was a stark contrast to the happy memories I cherished. There was a time when his eyes held nothing but me. I thought I had found true love, so I told him everything about the System. Everything except the punishments. I didn’t want him to worry. The pain intensified. I clenched my jaw so hard I thought my teeth would shatter. “Stop talking!” Every word he spoke was another twist of the knife. Maya stepped forward, her hand closing over mine. “Chloe, does it really hurt that much?” she asked, her voice laced with false sympathy. “Ethan, maybe we shouldn’t do this. It’s okay if I die.” “No!” Ethan’s denial was sharp and immediate. He looked at her with aching tenderness. “Maya, you’re not like her. She’s a ‘Player.’ Even if she dies here, she just goes back to her own world. But if you die, you’re gone for good. You don’t need to feel sorry for her.” Out of Ethan’s line of sight, Maya shot me a triumphant smirk. She leaned in close and whispered, “You know, I told Ethan that if he said he didn’t love you, you would be in terrible pain. And ever since he found out, he’s been saying it over and over.” “He doesn’t love you,” she purred. “He only loves me. After all, I’m the main character of this world.” As soon as she finished speaking, Ethan pulled her back into his arms, his gaze soft and adoring. “I’ve already bought the villa on North Hill,” he murmured. “It’ll be our home after we’re married.” I had once told Ethan that in my own world, I had no parents, no home. My only dream was to have a place to belong. So he bought me a villa—that very same villa on North Hill. I had spent countless hours renovating it myself, pouring my heart into every detail. It was finally ready to move into this year. And now, he wanted me dead. My hand fell limp onto the cold asphalt. I spoke to the System again, my voice devoid of hope. “I’ve found new hosts. Two of them. Can you please let me go?” Ethan, you don’t want me anymore. So I guess I don’t want you either. 2 【Affirmative. New hosts have been detected to assume control of the System.】 【Player, are you certain you wish to transfer me to both of them?】 Hearing the System’s voice, I looked at Ethan and Maya. They were kissing, a backdrop of fireworks celebrating their victory. For a fleeting moment, I saw the simple, foolish Ethan I had known. The one who would say, “Chloe, thank you for being with me. I love you.” The one who would warm my milk every night and wash my underwear for me when I was on my period. No one had ever loved me like that. I thought he was the one I could rely on for the rest of my life. I was wrong. “I’m certain,” I whispered into the void of my own mind. 【Understood, Player. Commencing transfer protocol.】 “Why hasn’t the System appeared yet?” Maya asked impatiently. “She’s probably communicating with it,” Ethan explained. “Just wait. She always gets distracted when she talks to the System.” 【Greetings, new hosts.】 The System’s voice was no longer just in my head. It was broadcast for all to hear. 【From this day forward, you will be my new hosts. Please select your mission target.】 “I choose Maya.” “I choose Ethan.” They spoke in unison, their voices firm and resolute, a perfect picture of devotion. I remembered when Ethan was still “simple.” He had told me, “No matter what, I will always choose you, Chloe.” But now, he had chosen someone else. 【Affirmative. However, the transfer process will take three days to complete. You must wait.】 The System’s voice vanished from the open air, speaking now only to me. 【You will be able to leave in three days. I will heal your injuries from the accident. You may use this time to say goodbye to your loved ones in this world.】 As soon as it finished speaking, the wounds on my body began to heal at a visible rate. “Look, Maya!” Ethan exclaimed in astonishment. “I told you she could have the System heal her! The System is amazing! Soon, we’ll be able to do that too. We’ll never have to be afraid of getting hurt or dying again!” I pushed myself to my feet and looked at him, my heart a hollow chamber of disappointment. He had no idea what he had just signed up for. The System was not as benevolent as he thought. 3 I went to the hospital to see my grandfather. In this world, besides Ethan, he was my only family. He was so good to me. He gave me all his savings so Ethan and I could buy a car. He would save his favorite foods, things he wouldn’t even eat himself, just for me. At the hospital, I ran into Ethan and Maya. They were holding hands, and Ethan was clutching a piece of paper. An ultrasound report. “This is amazing, Maya! I’m going to be a father!” His words were a sword through my heart. I had wanted a child with Ethan, too. Back when he was still “simple.” “I don’t want kids,” he had told me. “They’re too much trouble.” I thought he was just being silly. Now I knew he was telling the truth. He didn’t want a child with me. But he was perfectly happy to have one with her. He must have been sleeping with her even when we were together. 【Player, the punishment mechanism is now being deactivated. You will no longer be subject to penalties based on the target’s emotional state.】 The System’s words washed over me, and I felt a physical weight lift from my shoulders. I was finally free from that constant, agonizing tether. I could live my own life. It was for the best. 4 When my grandfather saw me, he immediately handed me a box of dumplings. “The nurse gave them to me,” he said, his smile warm and loving. “You eat them, Chloe.” Tears streamed down my face. If I left this world, what would happen to him? I had to make sure he was taken care of. I rushed back to the house to get my money. I had been living with Ethan, and all my belongings, all my savings, were there. When I arrived, I found the housekeeper carrying my things out to the curb. “Ma’am,” she said, her voice flustered. “Mr. Ethan told me to throw your things out. He said… you won’t be living here anymore.” I looked at the pile of my belongings. Everything was broken. Including the plaster dolls we had made together. I never imagined he could be so cruel. But my money was still tied to his bank account. I had to get it back. I tried to open the door, but the code was wrong. “He had me change the code, too,” the housekeeper said, wringing her hands. It felt like a physical blow. I struggled to catch my breath. “What’s the new code?” She hesitated, then I pressed her. “My things are still inside. I need to get them.” “20180812.” August 12th, 2018. The day Ethan and Maya first got together. I stumbled back, a bitter laugh escaping my lips. Just last night, he had held me in his arms and told me he loved me. This morning, he had lured me to a deserted road, promising a surprise. He had blindfolded me, my heart pounding with joyful anticipation. And then, he had hit me with his car. Ethan, you wanted me dead so badly. You wanted my ‘Player’ status. But do you have any idea how hard it is to be a Player? 5 I pushed open the door. Ethan had Maya pressed against the kitchen counter, his face a mask of adoration. “Maya, I will love you forever.” My bag slipped from my fingers and hit the floor with a soft thud. Even though I had decided to let him go, seeing this with my own eyes was still a fresh wave of pain. “What are you doing here?” Ethan asked, his voice sharp with annoyance. “You’re not welcome here.” His coldness reminded me of three years ago, when I had defied the System for him. My punishment was the agony of having my bones broken, one by one. The pain was so intense I wanted to die, but I endured it for him. I thought we would spend the rest of our lives together in this world. Now I knew how wrong I was. “I came to get my money,” I said, my voice flat. “All the money I’ve earned over the years is in your account. I need it for my grandfather’s medical bills.” Ethan didn’t even pause. He continued to kiss and touch Maya, his hands roaming her body, as if I wasn’t even there. I felt a surge of nausea, but I forced it down. It wouldn’t be long now. I would be free. “I’ll get it myself.” As I started towards the bedroom, Maya called out, “Chloe, isn’t your grandfather better? Why do you still need money?” Her voice was laced with suspicion. “You’re not planning on taking it back to your own world, are you?” At her words, Ethan’s cold gaze shot to me. “Are you that obsessed with money?” “I’m telling you, even if you earned it, I’m not giving it to you. This money belongs to this world. You can’t take it with you!” I couldn’t believe his shamelessness. The loving, kind Ethan I had known was truly gone. “Ethan, I told you, it’s for my grandfather. I’m not taking a single penny with me.” “I’m not giving it to you. Get out!” I clenched my fists, words failing me. He would only believe Maya now. 6 As I turned to leave, Maya suddenly grabbed my hand. “Don’t go, Chloe. If you really need money, I can lend you some.” The next moment, she threw herself backwards, her head hitting the corner of the coffee table with a sickening crack. “Ah! That hurts!” Before I could even react, Ethan lunged at me, shoving me with all his might. I stumbled back into the hot water dispenser, knocking it over. Scalding water poured all over me. I cried out in pain. “Chloe, why did you push her?” Ethan roared, his face contorted with rage. “If you’re angry, take it out on me! Don’t you dare touch Maya!” He kept repeating her name, “Maya, Maya,” each one a new wound. Didn’t he see that I was burned? But I was too tired to argue. All I wanted was the money for my grandfather. Then I could leave this world behind. “Ethan, just give me fifty thousand. That’s all I need.” “Give me fifty thousand, and I’ll leave immediately. Otherwise, I’ll keep bullying your precious Maya.” “Chloe!” he snarled, his eyes like daggers. He lunged at me again, his hands closing around my throat. The pressure was immense, squeezing the air from my lungs. “Why do you have to be so malicious? Can’t we just part peacefully?” “I wanted to,” I gasped. “But you wouldn’t let me. I just… want the money.” He threw me to the floor. “Fine. I’ll give it to you.” “But on one condition.” “What?” I coughed, my throat raw. “Kneel down and apologize to Maya.” I stared at him, stunned. I thought he had at least some lingering affection for me. After all the years we had been together. “Okay,” I said. I got to my feet and walked over to Maya, kneeling before her. “I’m sorry,” I said, bowing my head to the floor. Suddenly, Ethan’s hand was on the back of my head, slamming it into the ground. The impact was so hard I bit my tongue. “You hurt Maya’s head,” he said, his voice cold. “Now we’re even.” “Fine,” I whispered. “Can I have the money now?” He took out a bank card and placed it on the toe of his shoe. “Crawl over and get it yourself.” “Okay.” My quick agreement seemed to surprise him. He probably didn’t expect me to be so compliant. After all, I had always been so proud. But I was about to leave this world forever. I would do anything for my grandfather. I crawled towards him. As my hand reached for the card, he grabbed my wrist, his voice a low, vicious snarl. “Chloe, you really are pathetic. You’ll do anything for money.” Tears streamed down my face. I remembered his cold resolve when he ran me over. He didn’t care about me anymore. So why should I care what he thought? I took the card and stood up. Just then, my phone buzzed. A message. My grandfather had taken a turn for the worse. He was in the emergency room. I turned to run, but Ethan grabbed me. “You think you can just take the money and run? It’s not that easy!” “You’re staying here. You can be our maid for a few days.” “Let me go!” I struggled, but his grip was like iron. “Ethan, my grandfather is in the hospital! Let me go!” “Hilarious. You get the money, and suddenly your grandfather is dying. Chloe, you’d even use your own grandfather to get what you want.” “I’m not lying!” I was frantic. Just then, the System’s voice echoed in my mind. 【The transfer system is ready ahead of schedule. There is no need to wait three days. Do you wish to initiate the exchange now?】

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While a client was getting handsy with me, my wife, Celeste, was across the table, playfully linking arms with her male assistant, sharing a drink. To keep the client happy, I drank until I had alcohol poisoning, the world swimming around me, my lungs tight and fighting for air. Celeste didn’t spare me a single glance. She was too busy picking cilantro out of her assistant’s bowl, coaxing him to eat. After the dinner, her assistant, a kid named Leo, complained he was bored. So she kicked me out of the car to take him out for a “second round.” “The kid’s been working so hard lately, I’m taking him out to relax,” she said, her tone dismissive. “You wouldn’t get what young people do for fun anyway. Don’t tag along.” She paused, then delivered the final blow. “And I’m going to be out with him all night, so we’ll have to postpone getting the marriage license tomorrow. We’ll talk about it some other time.” We had our wedding five years ago. This was the 99th time Celeste had unilaterally cancelled our appointment to make it official. I just nodded. If she was always going to be this busy, then maybe there was no point in getting that piece of paper after all. 1 The passenger window was half-down. Leo stuck his tongue out at me in a mock apology. “Sorry, Sean! It’s all Celeste’s fault, she just spoils me too much. I’ll make sure she brings you back some late-night snacks!” Before I could respond, Celeste ruffled his hair with a smile. “You little glutton. You think everyone is as greedy as you are?” Her eyes flicked to me, cold and hard. “Don’t bother with him. He’ll just eat it and then complain he’s having some allergic reaction. I don’t have time for those kinds of games.” So, she had seen me struggling earlier. She just thought I was faking it, another one of my pathetic attempts to get her attention. Usually, I would have broken down, cried, argued, tried to make her understand. But this time, I said nothing. I just managed a simple, “Alright. You two have fun.” Celeste seemed taken aback for a moment, then her usual mocking smirk returned. “It’s best if you don’t throw a tantrum.” The car sped away. Just before they left, Celeste, worried that Leo might get stuffy, thoughtfully rolled his window all the way down. I get carsick easily, especially in her car. But she never rolled the window down for me. “The wind blows all the dust in. Can you stop being so dramatic all the time?” I finally understood. I took off my wedding ring and tossed it into the dark, churning river below. The next morning, I went to the orchestra to hand over my duties. Celeste had been a piano prodigy since her debut, and I had been her manager the entire time. “You’re resigning? Does Celeste know?” my boss asked, shocked. “She’ll find out when the new manager arrives.” I left his office and walked to the performance hall. I ran into Celeste, fresh from a shower, wearing a new camisole, her hair still damp. She ran a hand through her hair, her eyes scanning me. “I drank too much last night, so I got a room to sleep it off. That’s why I didn’t come home.” It was the first time in ten years she had ever bothered to explain herself. I just nodded, saying nothing. “Did you have an early meeting this morning?” she asked. I looked at her, remembering all the mornings after a client dinner when I would wake up at five or six to prepare a huge spread of hangover cures and stomach-soothing broths for her. It had been this way since she was eighteen. No wonder she was surprised not to find it waiting for her this morning. “Something like that,” I said. I was about to leave, but Celeste, who had been frowning since she saw me, grabbed my arm, her face darkening. “Sean, that’s enough.” “We’re just rescheduling the license, it’s not like we’re not getting it at all. This little drama of yours is getting old.” But I wasn’t being dramatic. And I really wasn’t planning on getting that license anymore. I figured it was best to be direct. I was about to tell her when a petulant, whiny voice cut through the air. “Celeste! It’s all your fault!” Leo stomped his foot, his cheeks puffed out in a pout. “The underwear you bought me this morning is the wrong size! I can’t even fit into these little triangle things! You’re such a straight girl, you have no idea!” Celeste immediately let go of me and rushed to his side, wrapping him in a hug. Her voice was sharp with concern. “You’re still recovering from gastritis and a fever, and you’re running around barefoot? Are you trying to kill yourself?” A memory surfaced. Earlier this month, I had a bad case of the flu, my temperature soaring to 104. I was curled up in bed, begging her to take me to the doctor. She had just frowned. “What’s the point of you?” “It’s just a little cold and a fever, it’s normal. Just tough it out. You’re so much trouble.” When I came back to myself, Celeste was already helping Leo walk away, her arm wrapped tightly around him. I looked away, swallowing the familiar ache in my chest, and pulled out my phone. I contacted the headhunter who had been trying to recruit me for a position abroad. After booking my flight, a notification popped up. Leo had tagged me in a new post. It was a live photo of a large hand gently rubbing his stomach. In the background, you could hear him sighing contentedly. “Celeste, your hand is so warm~” The caption read: My clueless older sister feels bad that my tummy hurts, so she’s going to make all the pain go away! It feels so good to be cherished like this~ His intentions were painfully obvious. I liked the post, then went to my own profile and removed the wedding photo of me and Celeste that had been my background for years. … Today, another major orchestra was visiting for a joint performance. I was still in the process of handing over my work, so I had to help out. I was responsible for greeting the musicians and showing them to the lounge. As I led the group in, the first thing we saw was Celeste, sitting at a table, feeding Leo. “Wow, I heard the great Celeste married her manager, Sean, a long time ago. I didn’t realize they were so in love!” “I know, right! And a pianist’s hands are her most valuable asset. She’s actually using them to pick out food for her husband!” Yes, a pianist’s most important asset is her hands. For ten years, I had taken care of everything for her, terrified she might get even a tiny scratch. And now, she was using those precious hands to wait on another man. The murmurs of admiration finally reached the two of them. Leo, seeing me at the head of the group, immediately put on a pitiful expression. “Sean, look at Celeste! She’s forcing me to eat this nutritional porridge. I’m so sick of her feeding me!” Celeste didn’t even look at me. She just gently wiped the corner of Leo’s mouth. “Be good. Finish this, and then you can have your fever reducer.” The chatter around me died instantly. I met their awkward gazes with a calm smile and led them to their seats. Once everyone was settled, I pulled out my phone and started the online visa application process. I don’t know when Celeste appeared behind me. She saw my screen, her eyes turning cold, her voice sharp with suspicion. “A visa? Who are you getting a visa for?” Before I could answer, she grabbed my hand, her voice filled with shock. “Sean, where’s your ring!?” “Don’t tell me you accidentally left it at home!” I knew why she was so shocked. In eight years of marriage, my ring had never left my finger. Hers, on the other hand, had never been worn in public. Combined with everything else, a flicker of panic crossed her face. She squeezed my hand, her eyes boring into mine. “Answer me!” I was about to tell her the truth when Leo let out a piercing scream. “Ah! It hurts so much, Celeste! Owww…” Everyone turned to look. Leo had fallen to the floor next to the grand piano, a bleeding gash on his outstretched palm. Celeste pushed me aside and rushed to him, cradling him in her arms. “How could you be so careless!” Leo’s face was streaked with tears. He buried his face in Celeste’s chest, casting pitiful, frightened glances in my direction. “I don’t know… sniff… Sean was supposed to have checked everything last night… I don’t know why there was a huge piece of broken glass on the piano lid…” “Owww… Celeste, it really, really hurts…” Celeste’s gaze fell on the blood-stained shard of glass on the piano. Her face contorted with fury. The next second, she was screaming at me. “Sean, have your little games gotten so twisted that you’re actually trying to hurt people now!?” “Get over here and apologize!” Ignoring the contemptuous glares from everyone else, I walked over to them. “I didn’t do it.” “If it wasn’t you, who was it!? Everyone in this orchestra knows how controlling you are! You’re always the one who personally inspects my piano, aren’t you!?” Without another word, she grabbed a small ceramic figurine from the piano and smashed it on the floor. Then she grabbed my hands and shoved them into the scattered shards. Pain exploded through my hands as countless pieces of ceramic embedded themselves in my flesh. “This is your lesson for today!” she spat, her voice cold. “No one is to help him clean this up!” “I’ll be waiting for you to reflect on what you’ve done. When you’re ready to apologize, you can come find me.” With that, she hoisted Leo onto her back and left without a backward glance. My eyes burned, my vision blurring. Tears fell, one by one, onto the shattered ceramic pieces. My hands throbbed, but the pain in my heart was so intense I could barely breathe. The two little figures on the ceramic ornament were now in pieces. A small, folded piece of paper fell out from inside. Celeste had this made when she proposed to me, a special request from a temple. Back then, her eyes held only me. “Sean,” she had said, “I’ve made a wish before the heavens. We will be together for the rest of our lives.” And now, she was the one who had broken that vow. I carefully gathered the shards, along with my memories and the last vestiges of my love for her, and threw them in the trash. As I passed through the main hall, Celeste’s performance was just ending. The applause was thunderous. She looked radiant, walking off stage to take Leo’s hand and bring him up for the final bow. Celeste had experienced this moment of an artist’s triumph many times. Not long ago, I overheard my boss ask her, “Sean has worked so hard as your manager for so many years. You’re partners and a married couple. Why don’t you ever bring him up to take a bow with you?” Her voice was laced with contempt. “I got to where I am today because of my own talent. He’s just riding my coattails. And he’s getting old. He’s not exactly someone I want to show off.” My gaze returned to the stage. Leo stood beside Celeste, his smile brilliant. The spotlight shone on them, and they really did look like a perfect couple. Just then, my phone buzzed. My visa had been approved. … I was halfway through packing when Celeste came home. She tossed a small brown bottle at me. “Medicine for you.” I picked it up. I had seen this bottle of iodine before. In Leo’s social media post, Celeste was using it to treat his cut. But I’m allergic to iodine. When Celeste was eighteen and just starting out, her prodigious talent had already made her a star. Another, more established musician in the industry, jealous of her success, hired someone to injure her hands. I had thrown myself in front of her without a second thought. I only sustained minor injuries, but a colleague at the orchestra, not knowing about my allergy, used iodine to disinfect the cuts. I went into anaphylactic shock and was rushed to the hospital. It took them nearly a full day in surgery to save my life. My colleagues later told me that for every minute I was in critical condition, Celeste had been outside the operating room, crying. When she came back, she threw a massive fit, tossing out every bottle of iodine in the orchestra and forbidding it from ever being brought in again. I never thought she would be the one to break her own rule. I dropped the bottle into the trash. Celeste saw my action and just snorted. “Use it or don’t. I don’t care.” Her phone buzzed. She glanced at it, and her expression softened. Her voice was gentle as she spoke into the phone. “Leo, remember not to get your wound wet. And you have to watch what you eat for a while. When you’re all better, I’ll take you out for something delicious.” Perhaps my unusual silence made her uneasy. She kept glancing at me out of the corner of her eye. Finally, she couldn’t help but speak. “What happened today… I was just trying to make an example of you. You know how much dirty business goes on in the orchestra.” “The reason I punished you like that was to warn the others. And the reason I’m being so attentive to Leo now is so that you don’t become the subject of gossip.” I just nodded. I didn’t argue. I didn’t explain. “I understand.” Celeste was clearly taken aback. A strange feeling washed over her. She seemed to want to say more, but I had already walked into the bathroom to pack my toiletries. On the corner of the sink, a pair of black and white boxer briefs, not mine, lay there. From outside the door, I could hear a voice message playing on Celeste’s phone. “Celeste, I forgot the underwear I changed into at your place this morning… Can you bring them to me? And I love the smell of your body wash, can you bring me a bottle of that too?” No wonder Celeste was wearing a different style of top this morning. And the scent of her body wash was one she never used at home. She really was so attentive to his every need. Celeste, still on the phone, rushed towards the bathroom. As she entered, she saw me, and the boxer briefs in my hand. Her eyes darted away. “Leo wasn’t feeling well this morning, so I let him change here.” “Mm, okay.” I didn’t react, just stepped aside to let her pass. Celeste packed the underwear away, but as she was about to leave, she stopped. “If you’re going to overthink this, then maybe I shouldn’t go.” I waved my hand, indicating I didn’t care. She hesitated, but then Leo called again, urging her to hurry. After hanging up, she said to me, “I’ll be right back after I drop this off. In the meantime, you can make the appointment. We’ll get the marriage license tomorrow.” With that, she hurried away. Once I had finished packing, I scrolled through my social media. Leo had posted again. The first picture was of a long, delicate hand testing the water temperature in a bathtub. The second was a selfie of Leo, with the blurry profile of a woman in the background, carefully washing his hair. My sister says I can’t get my hand wet because of the injury, so she’s going to wash my hair and give me a bath~ Why do I feel so shy all of a sudden… I flexed my bandaged hands, then took one last, long look around the home I had shared with Celeste for eight years. Just then, a text from her arrived. Something came up, I can’t come back. Cancel the appointment for tomorrow. It’s fine, I thought to myself. I never made one anyway. I dragged my suitcase out the door, got into a taxi, and headed for the airport. I sent Celeste a single text message saying we were over, then turned off my phone as the plane took off. …

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It was the fourth year of my marriage to my arch-nemesis when he got into a car accident. He lost his memory, his mind resetting to the time before we were married. When his eyes landed on my wedding ring, his voice dripped with sarcasm. “Who had the misfortune of marrying you?” 1 I glanced at the gauze wrapped around his head and thought, Pal, if I told you that someone was you, I was genuinely worried you’d have an aneurysm on the spot. “Don’t worry about it. It wasn’t you.” “When did you get married?” “Four years ago.” “And what did I do?” A sly smile spread across my face. “You gave me a huge wedding gift. A very fat check.” His gaze dropped, a flicker of something like melancholy crossing his handsome features. “That’s impossible.” Even with amnesia, he was still impossible to fool. Given our history, he would never have given me a generous gift. He would have been more likely to spike the punch at the reception, just to turn my wedding into the biggest joke of the century. Watching him stand there, lost in thought, my hand moved faster than my brain. I reached out and pinched his cheek. “Come on, let’s go home.” “Home?” His eyes suddenly lit up, as if he’d just been handed a sliver of hope. I quickly fabricated a story. “Right. The Thorne family business went bankrupt, you know? You’re my servant now.” Bart Thorne, who had always seemed unbreakable, finally shattered into a million pieces. I committed to the role completely, calling ahead to brief the household staff. I even cleared it with his parents, explaining that we’d keep up the pretense for a while to let him recover without the stress of worrying about the company. So, as we sat in the car, he clung to one last shred of hope. He called his parents to confirm. The voice on the other end was grim. “Son, it’s true. We’ve lost everything.” He lowered the phone, his eyes rimmed with red. The golden boy, the prince of the city, was now a penniless nobody. After a long silence, he spoke, his voice low. “So, what exactly do I do at your house?” “Oh, all sorts of things. Laundry, cooking, serving tea… and washing my feet.” He turned his head to stare out the window, his sharp, handsome profile now etched with a profound sense of loss, giving him a kind of broken beauty. Anyone would have looked at him and thought, Oh, that poor, handsome devil. Inside, I was about to burst with glee, but I managed to keep a straight face. You have to understand, the usual Bart Thorne was the imperious, untouchable ice king. His life had been a gilded path, a destiny written in the stars. He moved through the world like he owned it. I once joked that the only time I’d ever see Bart Thorne get misty-eyed for me would be at my funeral. The comment got back to him, of course. He’d just smirked and said, “Don’t flatter yourself. The only thing I’d bring to your funeral is fireworks.” Seeing him this vulnerable now? It was absolutely priceless. I spent the entire ride home fighting back a triumphant grin. 2 When we got home, I went straight to my study to deal with a pile of paperwork. Later, when I returned to my bedroom, I found Bart standing there, a basin of water for washing my feet placed neatly on the floor. He was frozen, staring at something in his hands. I followed his gaze and my stomach dropped. It was his pajama shirt. For all his arrogance, he was surprisingly sentimental about some things. He’d worn the same pajamas since college, even after four years of marriage. He turned to me, his eyes clouded with confusion. “You’re married. So why are my things in your room?” I sauntered over, a wicked smile playing on my lips. I grabbed the collar of his shirt and pulled him close. His ears turned a bright, tell-tale red, and he quickly averted his eyes. “Wh-what are you doing?” My fingertips traced lazy circles on his firm chest. “My husband… he’s been abroad for a long time. You know how it is. A girl gets lonely. I have certain… needs that require attention.” His eyes widened in shock. “So… I’m your affair? Your lover on the side?” “Or is ‘plaything’ a more accurate term?” I mused. I opened my mouth to continue, but stopped. He had lowered his head, his eyes shadowed with a deep, weary sadness. His voice was a choked whisper. “A plaything… Fine.” For a moment, a pang of guilt hit me. He looked so lost, so utterly pitiful. Had I gone too far? Bart Thorne was a man defined by his pride. Waking up to find himself a bankrupt servant and now a clandestine lover… was it too much of a blow? But before I could second-guess myself, I was yanked into a fierce embrace. His mouth crashed down on mine, a brutal, all-consuming kiss that left no room for negotiation. It was a kiss of desperation, a reckless, all-or-nothing assault. 3 Even with his memory gone, his skills in this department hadn’t diminished one bit. He’d been in the hospital for two weeks, which meant I’d been on a dry spell for just as long. The moment his lips touched mine, it was like lightning striking dry tinder. In a dizzying haze, we ended up tangled in the sheets. He was more intense than usual, almost frantic, leaving me begging for him to slow down. In the pale moonlight, his eyes burned with a raw, possessive hunger. He nibbled on my earlobe, his voice a low, rough growl. “Like this?” “Yes… just… gentler…” “Me or your husband… who’s better?” “…” “Answer me.” “Ah…” He bit my neck, his movements urgent and demanding, pressing for an answer. My mind was a fog. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to answer; it was that I honestly didn’t know how. Just before I drifted off to sleep, I felt someone pull me into a tight embrace. “Why him,” a voice murmured against my hair, “and not me?” Turning and burrowing into his arms had become a deeply ingrained instinct. I nuzzled against his chin and whispered, “Husband…” The body holding me went rigid. The next morning, I woke up and instinctively reached for the person beside me, only to find the space cold and empty. My eyes flew open, and I shot out of bed. My heart only settled when I saw him downstairs at the dining table, bustling about. It’s terrifying how quickly you can get used to someone. When I sat down, Bart and the rest of the staff stood to the side, waiting. I reached out and tugged on his arm. “Come on, eat with me. Aren’t you hungry after last night?” Teasing him had become second nature. He sat down, looking a bit awkward. Halfway through his meal, he asked, his voice laced with a pained reluctance, “Your husband. Is it… Leo Vance?” I almost spat out my milk. I managed to swallow, forcing myself to remain calm. But seeing the utter desolation on his face, it was clear that the name Leo Vance had left a deep and painful scar on his memory. 4 Leo, you could say, was my first love. Back in college, he was a senior assigned to help with freshman orientation. He was the complete opposite of Bart. From the time we were kids, Bart was the golden boy our parents always compared me to. We became mortal enemies after a massive fight over who got to be the ’emperor’ while playing make-believe. Somehow, our lives followed the same trajectory, and we were constantly in each other’s orbits, competing over everything. I took up piano; his family bought a new Steinway. I started oil painting; he took up sketching. I said I was aiming for Auden University; he said he could get into Blackwood. In the end, he scored thirty points higher than me on the entrance exams, and we ended up at the same damn university. I called it a curse. He called it fate. On campus, we went our separate ways. I was quickly swallowed by the crowd. As I drifted aimlessly, I looked back and saw Bart. His height and striking looks made him stand out like a beacon. I opened my mouth to call his name, but a girl with flushed cheeks rushed up to him, nervously asking for his number. The sunlight caught in his eyes, turning them gold. The words died in my throat. I turned away, never finding out if he gave her his number or not. And that was when I met Leo. He smiled at me, a gentle, welcoming smile. “Hey, freshman. What’s your major?” He was nothing like Bart. He was a world away from the constant competition and antagonism. I confessed my feelings to him after a club outing to an amusement park. “Let’s have an archery contest, Leo,” I’d challenged him. The prize for winning was a little stuffed animal. “I bet you can’t win more than me.” As night fell, the park lights softened everyone’s edges. The wind rustled his hair as he smiled that easy smile of his. “Of course you’ll win in the end. Because all of my prizes… are going to you.” I froze. It had never occurred to me that someone would concede so easily, just because they knew I wanted to win. That night, I told him how I felt, and he said yes. Leo was a wonderful boyfriend. He’d bring me breakfast and a bouquet of my favorite flowers on every date. Even when he was swamped with his studies, spending countless hours in the lab, he always found time to surprise me. If it weren’t for what happened later, Bart and I might never have found our way to each other. Lost in thought, I glanced at his profile. My silence was its own answer. When no denial came, Bart let out a quiet, defeated, “I see.” I was so used to his arrogant, swaggering confidence. Seeing him like this, looking like a kicked puppy, softened my heart. “You know, actually, you—” “I know,” he cut me off, his gaze fixed on the ceiling with a tragic, ninety-degree tilt of his head. “I’m just the other man. I have no right to ask for more.”

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