1 Before the wedding, my adopted sister, Serena Davies, hit my brother with her car, leaving him in a vegetative state. My fiancé, Sam Ford, a lawyer, not only didn’t blame her but actually became her defense attorney. I raised hell, demanding she go to jail, only to become the laughingstock of the city. In my brokenness, my sworn enemy, Harrison Blackwood, proposed to me, promising to be my only support. I said yes. Later, he personally ensured Serena was sent to prison. But in the fifth year of our marriage, I unexpectedly saw him talking to my brother, Ethan, who was supposed to be in a coma. “Bro-in-law, if Serena couldn’t have kids, you wouldn’t have had to orchestrate this whole scheme to trick Ariel into marrying you, making her a surrogate for Serena!” “It’s fine. My marriage certificate with Ariel is fake; the one with Serena is real.” “When Ariel gives birth, I’ll make sure the child calls Serena ‘Mother.’” It turned out the happiness I thought I had was nothing but a deception from start to finish. I’d risked everything to get justice for my brother, only to find it was all one-sided! I was the one who needed to leave. … My hand froze in mid-air as I was about to push open the hospital room door. A chill spread through my body; I couldn’t believe what I’d just heard. Inside the room, Harrison Blackwood gazed at photos of Serena’s trip on his phone, a deeply regretful look on his face. “Seeing her happy and carefree makes these five years of acting for Ariel worthwhile.” “Once the baby inside her is born, this fake marriage should end.” My brother, Ethan Davies, lay in the hospital bed, snorting dismissively: “Ariel really thinks you love her. She even handed over all the shares Mom and Dad left her. But what if she finds out this was all our plan?” Harrison paused, a flicker of coldness in his eyes: “Then she’ll never know. Five years have passed; Serena should be out of prison soon.” “Besides, plenty of women die in the delivery room.” Ethan froze for a moment, then praised, “Bro-in-law, you’re still the smartest.” I recoiled, my hand clenching, the pregnancy diagnosis I’d just received falling to the floor. Harrison had distinctly told me he’d sent Serena to prison. It was all a lie! Ethan’s car accident was fake, Serena’s reckless driving and conviction were fake too. Everything was just a setup to make me bear a child for her, because she couldn’t! And all of it, orchestrated by the husband I loved to my very core! His tenderness, his loyalty, his devotion to me alone – it was all just a facade for his true love. For five years, I’d been living in the web of lies they’d spun. How ridiculous. Footsteps echoed from inside the room; Harrison was getting up. I quickly spun around, scooped up the diagnosis, and stumbled down the hallway. Tears streamed down my face as I ran. Once far from the hospital, I sank to the ground, taking a long time to compose myself. I don’t know how long passed before I carefully tucked the pregnancy diagnosis into my bag, hailed a cab, and returned home. After telling the housekeeper she could leave, I was alone in the house. I looked at the decorations, each one carefully chosen by us, and let out a bitter laugh. Not long ago, Harrison had held me close, his voice soft, “Ariel, let’s have a baby.” My health wasn’t great to begin with, but for his wish, I sought out specialists everywhere to improve my physical condition. I drank traditional herbal medicine like water, and acupuncture was a daily ritual. I finally conceived, only to discover the truth. I sat on the sofa until dusk. Then, footsteps sounded outside the door. The lights came on, and Harrison walked in. Seeing me on the sofa, he hugged me tenderly, “Why are you sitting in the dark?” I shook my head, subtly avoiding him. “Just woke up. Was waiting for you to come home.” Harrison didn’t suspect anything, kissing my forehead. “Ariel, you need to take good care of yourself, or I’ll feel guilty.” His tone was as gentle as ever. But I felt no warmth in my heart, only that he was an excellent actor. Why could he go to such lengths, for Serena, with someone he didn’t love? I leaned against Harrison’s chest, and his casual words echoed in my ear: “Wife, Serena is getting out of prison soon. After all, you two were sisters for over a decade, and she’s paid her penance. Maybe it’s time to let it go?” My eyes welled up, but I forced myself to speak: “You said it yourself, she and I are sisters. I won’t blame her anymore.” Harrison visibly relaxed, a smile touching his eyes: “I knew my Ariel was the kindest. Tonight, your husband will cook for you personally.” Watching him walk into the kitchen, I turned my head to wipe away my falling tears. Just then, Harrison’s phone on the table buzzed with a notification. I picked it up and unlocked it. The password was Serena’s birthday. On his private messaging app, the message was from one of Harrison’s inner circle: [Blackwood, your wife is returning tomorrow. The guys have prepared all the gifts you wanted.] The image showed acres of rose fields he’d bought out, and a new jewelry collection worth a billion from a top auction house. Scrolling further up, I discovered the truth. Every time Harrison had been away on business or working late, he’d actually been flying abroad to be with Serena. His friends were all in on it, covering for him. I clicked on Harrison’s social media, and what met my eyes were countless photos of Serena and him. Announcing their marriage, travel photos, kissing… The comments below were from people we both knew. Only I had been blocked from seeing them. My heart felt like it was tearing apart. I dug my nails into my arm, forcing myself to stay calm. Five years of marriage, and apart from our wedding photos, we didn’t have a single picture together. I’d always thought Harrison disliked taking photos. Turns out, it was just that he disliked taking photos with me. I let out a self-deprecating laugh, placing the phone back where it was. I didn’t want this marriage anymore. And Harrison, and this so-called family, I didn’t want them either. 2 After dinner, I bought a plane ticket for seven days later, heading out of the country, and booked the soonest possible abortion appointment. Seven days. That was enough time to say goodbye to this marriage. While Harrison showered, I found our marriage certificate. Looking at the vivid red cover, the official seal of the registrar’s office inside. Anyone would think it was real. My eyes grew moist. Just as I was about to put it away, Harrison’s questioning voice sounded behind me: “Ariel, what are you doing with the marriage certificate?” I calmly put it down, smiling. “It was a bit dusty. I just took it out to wipe it.” Harrison saw my reddened eyes, and his own flashed with concern. He came over, took the certificate, placed it in the cabinet, and hugged me. “You should let the housekeeper handle things like this.” I said nothing. Harrison was about to linger a bit longer when his phone rang suddenly. “Wife, I have to deal with something at the office. You go to bed after you’re done showering.” With that, he took his phone and went to his study. After I had showered, I was drying my hair when I passed the study door. I heard Harrison’s soft, cooing voice: “Serena, you’ll be in Capital City tomorrow. Your husband has a big surprise for you.” Serena replied sweetly, her voice soft, “Really? Thank you, hubby. But what about Ariel?” I felt Harrison’s mood instantly darken. He said in a cold voice: “You are my wife. Ariel is just your surrogate.” A chill settled deep in my heart. On the phone, Serena laughed twice, then chided him playfully, “Don’t say that about Ariel.” Harrison’s voice was so soft it could drip with sweetness: “Serena, you’re too kind.” I couldn’t bear to listen anymore. Suppressing the bitterness, I returned to my room. When Harrison came back, he saw I was already in bed. He didn’t disturb me, climbing in and gently holding me as he lay down. But I barely slept a wink that night. Early the next morning, Harrison held me tightly, reluctantly saying, “Wife, the company is very busy today. I won’t be back tonight to be with you.” “Your husband will make it up to you later.” I smiled. “It’s fine.” He had truly planned it well, all to keep me from finding out about Serena. But this five-year deception, I wasn’t going to let it continue. Especially since Harrison intended for me to die in childbirth. After he left, I grabbed the marriage certificate and went out. Arriving at the civil affairs office, I handed the marriage certificate to the clerk: “Could you help me check if there’s anything wrong with this marriage certificate?” The clerk frowned, her expression complicated as she looked at me. “Miss, this official seal is fake, so your marriage certificate has no legal validity.” Even though I already knew the outcome, I couldn’t help but feel a pang of sadness. But at least this saved me the trouble of divorce. I then went to the immigration office, applied for emigration, and canceled my identification documents. “Ms. Davies, this means you won’t be traceable anymore.” I shook my head. “It’s fine.” After I finished everything, I suddenly remembered that Harrison was throwing a welcome party for Serena today. I followed the address I’d seen yesterday and found the rose field. As soon as I arrived, I saw Harrison, surrounded by an adoring crowd, kissing Serena. Among those gathered were not only his friends but also company employees. “So this is Mrs. Blackwood! She’s truly beautiful, and so elegant. No wonder Mr. Blackwood is so utterly smitten!” “Did you see the necklace on her neck? It’s one of a kind in the world. I personally saw Mr. Blackwood pick it out.” “I heard Mr. Blackwood and his wife were childhood sweethearts. Such love is truly enviable.” Someone else questioned, “But I’ve seen Mrs. Blackwood before, and she didn’t look like this?” “Heh, I heard it through the grapevine a while ago. That’s the wife’s older sister, and rumor has it she’s been desperately clinging to Mr. Blackwood.” I just found it laughable. Five years of marriage, yet in everyone’s eyes, no one knew I was Harrison Blackwood’s wife. Just as I was about to leave, I suddenly heard Ethan’s voice: “Ariel, you’re finally back. I missed you so much. You have no idea how disgusting it was facing Ariel Summers every day…” Suddenly, an inexplicable bitterness welled up in my nose. Five years ago, I fought with Serena and my former fiancé to get him justice, becoming the laughingstock of the entire capital city. But in the end, he treated me like a stranger. In the rose field, Ethan was whining to Serena. I walked closer, making my way to the front amidst everyone’s astonished gazes, and suppressing my hurt, asked: “Ethan, why are you here?” 3 Instant silence. Shock flashed in Harrison’s eyes. Ethan, even more panicked, couldn’t utter a word. Once he recovered, Harrison hurriedly asked: “Ariel? How did you come here? Don’t misunderstand, Serena just got out today, and Ethan woke up, so we just thought we’d throw her a welcome party…” Everyone around them had already dispersed. After all, for five years, Harrison, worried that others would know Serena had been to prison, had always claimed she was abroad. I smiled. “Well, that’s just wonderful.” “Ariel, long time no see. I was so foolish back then.” Serena said, choking up, her tearful expression drawing sympathy. She was wearing a high-fashion gown, her makeup flawless. There was no sign she’d ever been to prison. Ethan immediately stepped in front of her, glaring at me defensively: “Don’t you dare target Serena! I don’t blame her for what happened back then, so what right do you have to decide for me!?” Watching his anxious expression, I couldn’t help but laugh. Serena always knew how to make herself out to be the victim. She did it when she was adopted by Mom and Dad, making me look bad at home. As we grew up, she continued to manipulate everyone around me, making them believe I bullied her. I took a deep breath, replying calmly, “I just heard there was a lively event here today. I didn’t realize it was you all. Since it’s a welcome party, I won’t disturb you.” I turned to leave. Harrison, thinking I was throwing a tantrum, rushed after me and grabbed my arm: “Ariel, don’t be angry. I was just worried about Serena, a young woman, suffering in prison…” “Five years have passed, and Ethan is fine, isn’t he? You should let it go too.” Harrison’s self-deceiving justification only struck me as hypocritical. He’d lied so much, he’d actually started believing it himself. Who was he putting on a show for now? “I’m not angry. I said it’s in the past, and I won’t hold a grudge anymore.” I thoughtfully straightened Harrison’s tie. “Go on, I’m heading home first.” Harrison hugged me, secretly letting out a sigh of relief. “I knew my wife was the most understanding. Get some good rest.” He instructed the driver to take me home, specifically saying he’d be back to accompany me tonight. I just nodded and agreed. Once home, I packed away all our couple items, throwing mine into the trash. Then I took down the wedding photos, cut Harrison and me apart, and burned them in the fire. I pulled out my suitcase, waiting only for my immigration application to be approved, then I would leave Capital City forever. That evening, until midnight. Harrison stood me up again. I had already anticipated it, so there wasn’t much of a ripple in my heart. Early the next morning, the obstetrics and gynecology department reminded me it was time for my appointment. I arrived at the hospital and got straight to the point: “I want an abortion.” The doctor looked at my report and frowned slightly: “This pregnancy wasn’t easy for you. If you terminate it, your chances of getting pregnant again might be very low. Please discuss it with the baby’s father.” I remembered seeing Serena’s social media post on the way to the hospital. It was at a hotel. One picture showed their candlelight dinner last night; another showed their hands intertwined on the hotel bed. Even though the man’s face wasn’t visible. The wedding ring on his right hand immediately revealed it was Harrison. I came back to myself, offering the doctor a bitter smile: “No need. The baby’s father is dead.”

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My grandmother is the richest woman in the country, and I’m her only granddaughter. Yet, my two older brothers allowed their trophy girlfriend to impersonate me. Before the start of the group’s centennial celebration, Mia Turner had already taken her place in the seat reserved for the CEO’s daughter, feigning politeness as she spoke to me. “Oh, dear~ if the boys hadn’t insisted on bringing you to see the world, a poor student like you would never step foot inside the Zenith Group’s doors.” “Later, remember to be sensible. Don’t cause me any trouble, or the boys will surely beat you to a cripple.” In my previous life, I was intimidated by my brothers, timid and weak, always yielding to Mia. But now, I’ve been reborn. Watching Mia still spouting nonsense, I simply raised my foot and kicked her back three feet. “What do you think you are? Trash, daring to lecture me!” 1 My audacious act immediately drew everyone’s attention. My elder brother, Alexander, instantly rushed to cradle Mia, his face etched with concern. My second brother, Benjamin, then raised his hand and slapped me twice. Seeing their pampered trophy girlfriend kicked away by me, both brothers were beside themselves with distress. They glared at me, seething. “Alexa Summers, you must have a death wish, daring to lay a hand on our sister!” Looking at my two aggressive brothers, I realized how foolish I’d been to ever imagine they felt any familial affection for me. I pointed at Mia, who was still cradled in their arms, and mocked loudly. “She’s just a little ‘sister’ you’re both keeping as a mistress. Am I, the group’s heiress, the CEO’s own granddaughter, not entitled to hit her?” At my words, Alexander instantly flared up, shoving me back to the ground. “Alexa Summers, Mia was kind enough to fund your education, yet here you are, spouting nonsense.” “Everyone here, listen up! Mia is my grandmother’s true granddaughter, the daughter of Zenith Group!” I looked at Alexander in disbelief. “She’s my grandmother’s granddaughter? The daughter of Zenith Group?” “Alexander, how dare you say such a thing? You truly have no shame!” Benjamin’s eyes darted around, then he looked at me with disdain. “Alexa Summers, did you forget to take your medication today? Are you having an episode?” Mia, meanwhile, began to sob theatrically. “It’s all my fault. I knew Alexa had a mental illness, but I still brought her here.” Their twisted conversation, where they completely inverted the truth, was heard clearly by everyone in the hall. Instantly, everyone around me looked at me with contempt. “So Alexa Summers is just a poor student sponsored by the young lady, no wonder she’s dressed so shabbily.” “The young lady is truly pure and kind, to sponsor someone so mentally ill and twisted.” Alexander then called for the group’s assistant, Mr. Davies. “Take Alexa Summers out of here. From now on, she’s not allowed to step foot in the group’s building without my permission.” I looked at Mr. Davies, who was approaching me with security guards. “Uncle Davies, you were a veteran beside my father. How can you not tell who the real CEO’s daughter is?” Mr. Davies immediately stopped, frozen in place. “I… I…” Benjamin glared at him with clear displeasure. “Uncle Davies, my elder brother is the future heir of the group. Are you defying his orders now, or do you want to pack your bags and get out?” Mr. Davies instantly turned pale with fright. He looked at me uneasily. “Miss, I have elderly parents and young children to support; I rely on this job. Please don’t make it difficult for me. Please come with me outside.” With that, Mr. Davies motioned for the security guards to quickly drag me away. Looking at the several people surrounding me, I picked up a vase from the table and threw it hard. “I am not only the CEO’s daughter of Zenith Group, I am also the group’s sole heiress. Dare to touch me, and you’ll regret it!” 2 The shattering sound of the vase and my furious shout echoed through the entire banquet hall. Hearing my words, everyone around me scoffed. “She must be seriously ill. First, she claims to be the CEO’s granddaughter, and now the group’s heiress? Absolutely ridiculous.” “Exactly. Even if she were the CEO’s actual granddaughter, it wouldn’t fall to a woman to inherit the group. After all, the CEO has two biological grandsons.” Looking at my two still arrogant brothers, I directly challenged them. “Alexander, are you sure you and Benjamin have any claim to inheritance?” Benjamin’s eyes flickered, but he quickly regained his composure, tugging at Alexander’s sleeve. “Alexander, today is a joyous occasion. Later, all the family elders will be here. Perhaps we should just let it go?” Seeing Benjamin’s reaction, I knew he was remembering his origins and was starting to get scared. After all, my grandmother, the richest woman in this country, only gave birth to my mother. After my mother’s passing, I was her only biological granddaughter. My two brothers were merely the orphaned children of my father’s younger brother. After their parents died, my father, unable to bear seeing his nephews suffer outside, brought them into the Summers family. So they shared no blood relation with my mother or grandmother and could absolutely not inherit Zenith Group, which my biological grandmother had founded. But Alexander ignored my words, instead glaring at Benjamin with a deep frown. “She just laid a hand on Mia. Are you seriously going to let Mia suffer this indignity?” “Alexa Summers, it seems your illness has worsened. Should we just have Mr. Davies send you to a mental institution for treatment?” The mention of a mental institution sent a surge of pure hatred through my chest. I remembered the agony of being bled and flayed by Mia in the mental asylum in my previous life. Yes, in my past life, Alexander and Benjamin, in their desperate attempts to win Mia’s affection, had both, without exception, conspired against me and harmed me. Mia, who was studying medicine, always had a peculiar fascination. She wanted to personally observe the differences in anatomical structure between living and dead bodies. And after my two brothers learned of this, they collaborated with Mia to dissect me alive. Despite growing up with my brothers, living together in the Summers family for 18 years. Yet, to please Mia, they not only allowed her to impersonate me, but also daily concocted ways to help Mia torment me. Now, I understood. In my brothers’ eyes, familial bonds were meaningless; only romantic love held true importance for them. But now I was curious, when love and power were placed side by side, which would my two brothers choose? Thinking of this, I let out a cold laugh. “I’ll ask you one last time, who is the CEO’s daughter and heir of Zenith Group?” Before my two brothers could even open their mouths, Chloe Green, the daughter of a partner of the group, rushed forward and slapped me. “This is outrageous! You, a sponsored poor student, dare to act out in Zenith Group’s premises? Look at yourself, you don’t belong!” I knew Chloe Green. She secretly adored my older brother, Alexander, and constantly fantasized about marrying him and becoming the future chairman’s wife of the group. Ever since she heard Mia Turner was the CEO’s granddaughter and the daughter of Zenith Group, she had been fawning over Mia for the past two months, running errands for her. She wanted to establish a good sister-in-law relationship early on, to leave Alexander with the impression of a virtuous wife. Too bad she was flattering the wrong person. Mia was not only not the Zenith Group’s CEO’s daughter, but she was also Chloe’s love rival, my older brother’s secretly kept mistress for years. I wasn’t about to take Chloe Green’s slap for nothing, so I raised my foot and kicked her hard in the stomach. “What do you think you are? The daughter of a third-rate company daring to lay a hand on me! One word from me, and your family goes bankrupt instantly.” Chloe clutched her stomach in pain, looking at me in disbelief. “Alexa Summers, you actually dared to kick me! My mom and dad never even dared to yell at me, not once in my life!” “You just wait, I won’t let you get away with this.” Mia remorsefully took Chloe’s hand. “Chloe, don’t bother with her. She’s not mentally stable. I apologize on her behalf.” I looked at Mia with disdain, sneering. “I think you’re the one with a screw loose. Why act as a common mistress when you could be a high-class one? And why pretend to be the group’s CEO’s daughter at such an important event?” I turned to my two brothers, pointed towards the door, and said coldly. “Oh, since you two insist on playing dress-up with your mistress, then take your little ‘sister’ and get out of my company!” 3 My two brothers’ faces turned ashen as they glared at me. “Alexa Summers, let me tell you, we hold real power in this group. You’re still just a student. You’re the one who needs to leave!” “What’s going on? Why are you all standing here instead of taking your seats?” A distinguished, elegant middle-aged man pushed his way through the crowd. He was Marcus Summers, the CEO of Zenith Group, and my biological father. But he hurried to Mia, raising his hand to wipe away the tears from her eyes. “Mia, don’t cry~ Who’s been bullying you?” “Tell me quickly, and I’ll take care of them right now!” Alexander angrily pointed at me: “Besides this ignorant little brat, Alexa Summers, who else would dare to bully Mia right under my nose?” My father heard him and slapped me hard across the face. “Alexa Summers, I truly gave you too much freedom. You dare to abuse your power and bully Mia.” “Now, apologize to Mia on your knees immediately, or you won’t get any allowance for the next year.” Looking at my father, who was blaming me without any clear understanding, my eyes filled with disappointment. Sure enough, my father was still the same as in my previous life, blindly favoring Mia along with my two brothers. Although I had long anticipated it, my heart still couldn’t help but ache. Before, I never understood. I was clearly my father’s daughter, while Mia was just a plaything for my two brothers. But after my father met Mia, he became obsessed with her, treating her exceptionally well. Especially after discovering both my brothers had been supporting Mia as their mistress, my father exploded in fury, whipping both brothers for an entire day and night. When I saw my brothers being beaten, I even ran over to plead with my father, defending them. But I was accidentally hit with two lashes, and those two whip scars are still on my arm to this day. Afterward, my father not only stopped my brothers from continuing to support Mia, but he also used his connections to send Mia to the best university in the country. What’s more, my father even told my two brothers. If they truly loved Mia, they should compete fairly and try their best to marry her. And the one who successfully married Mia would be the heir to my father’s fortune. In my previous life, my father’s unusual behavior made me very curious, so I secretly investigated Mia’s background. Later, I learned that Mia was actually the daughter of my father’s first love. Mia looked very much like her mother; my father recognized her the first time he saw her. The destructive power of a deceased first love was truly formidable; a similar face could firmly capture my father’s heart. It was pitiful for my mother, who died of illness, never knowing that my father harbored another woman in his heart. Thinking of this, I looked at my father with sarcasm. “I will not apologize!” “But since my two brothers say Mia is their sister and the CEO’s daughter of Zenith Group, shouldn’t Father offer an explanation to everyone?” Hearing this, Mia immediately looked at my father with a pained expression, knowing he hated seeing her cry. Sure enough, seeing Mia crying so beautifully, my father immediately slapped me twice again. “Explain what? They’re right, Mia is my dear daughter, the CEO’s daughter of Zenith Group.” Looking at my father, who was telling blatant lies, I directly yelled at him. “Marcus Summers, do you think this is fair to my deceased mother? Do you dare to lay your hand on your heart and repeat what you just said?” My father ignored my words, turning to my two brothers. “Go throw this trash out, this one who bullied your sister.” Looking at my cold and heartless father, my heart was a mix of emotions. Heh, this was the man my mother loved her entire life? This was my biological father, whom I had admired for 18 years since childhood? I doubt my mother ever imagined, before her death, that the two sons she kindly adopted would harm her beloved daughter for the sake of a mistress. And that her own husband would not only fail to protect his biological daughter but would also drive her out of the house for the child of his first love. In this moment, I truly felt sorrow for myself and for my deceased mother. I lifted my head, meeting my father’s gaze directly, and said coldly. “This is my family’s Zenith Group. It’s not for outsiders like you to swagger around here!” I deliberately emphasized “my family’s” with extra force. The words had barely left my lips when my father completely erupted in rage. He signaled my two brothers to rush forward, holding me down firmly so I couldn’t move. “Yours? That’s utterly ridiculous!” My father then walked behind me, grabbing my hair, and violently slammed my forehead against the glass wall of the hall. “I’ve been managing Zenith Group all these years. Why can’t it be my Marcus Summers’s? Why can’t I decide the heir?” I fought back tears, firmly shouting, “Zenith Group belongs to my grandmother! I am the group’s only heir!” Thump, thump, thump, the moment my words ended, my forehead was shoved against the glass wall again. My father continued to roar at me, “Alexa Summers, stop dreaming! I gave Zenith Group to Mia as a dowry last year! Whoever marries Mia will inherit Zenith Group!” My father’s words stunned everyone present, and their gazes at Mia grew even more intense. Just then, an aged, sharp female voice came from behind me. “Marcus Summers, dare you say that again? Who is the heir of Zenith Group?”

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I was the chosen shield for the ruthless gang lord’s beloved. Three years into our marriage, I was kidnapped by his enemies for the eighth time. Ace arrived with his men to rescue me. The negotiation lasted barely five minutes before the young girl’s call came through. “Ace, my dare game led to a kiss, but I want to save my first kiss for you.” “Can you come to me?” The moment Ace turned to leave without hesitation, the knife plunged into my abdomen, blood gushing out. His men, just like the seven times before, paid them off and then sent me to the hospital. In the ambulance, I vaguely overheard someone speculating if I’d live to see the day that girl could stand on her own. They burst into laughter, while I wept silently. The mission to save the gang lord had failed, and the system was about to erase me. Ace, I won’t make it to that day. 1 The doctor sighed softly beside my ear. “Ms. Spiller, your uterus was already damaged from your last miscarriage, and now it’s been stabbed in that very spot again.” “I’m afraid you won’t be able to bear children anymore.” I stared at the pristine white ceiling, my voice sounding as if it came from a distant place. “It’s fine.” After the doctor left, I heard the system sigh too. “Mission failed. You will be erased.” “Do you want to restart the mission and continue saving him?” I shook my head. “Erase me.” “Understood. Erase protocol initiated. You have 72 hours remaining.” I closed my eyes, the silence around me almost unnerving. But soon, a strange impulse led me to open Chloe Vance’s live stream. Today, she was painting live from the hilltop mansion Ace had bought her. The young girl, in Ace’s oversized men’s shirt, her hair in a messy bun, was mixing colors in front of an easel. In the camera, her cheeks were flushed, and her smile was pure and lovely. “My clothes? Oh, they’re my boyfriend’s. My own shirts were just… impossible to wear.” “It was quite… intense last night, actually.” As she spoke, she glanced back shyly at the person just out of frame. She mumbled, “I never expected my first kiss and first time to happen on the same day…” A man’s deep, gentle voice drifted in. “My apologies. I’ll be gentler next time.” The chat exploded with cheers. [Chloe finally got her man! More daily couple content, please!] “Couple content is a bit tricky. My boyfriend has a special job, so he can’t show his face.” As she spoke, a little red paint stained the sleeve of her shirt. Chloe let out a small “oops,” and the man’s long, slender fingers reached over to roll up her sleeve for her. A cute little peach ring on her ring finger was revealed. “It’s okay if it gets dirty.” Chloe’s blush deepened. She giggled, then was suddenly pulled away by the man. From off-camera, sounds of kissing and heavy breathing, leaving much to the imagination, filled the air. The live stream comments flew by, one catching my eye: [I think I just heard Ace Evans, the gang lord.] The man spoke, and the temperature in the room seemed to drop instantly. “I am not.” The live stream abruptly ended. I put down my phone and drifted back into a heavy sleep. I dreamt of a time I was cleaning and accidentally got dust on his white shirt. I apologized profusely, but he still flew into a rage, scolding me for touching his belongings. He threw that white shirt away like trash, and I never saw any of his clothes in the house again. The last image in my dream was Ace’s back. It was eerily similar to his back over the past three years, each time he’d rushed off because of Chloe, leaving me to my torment. I woke up groggily, and the first thing I saw was a peach ring. My gaze traveled upwards to Chloe, who had changed into a simple T-shirt and jeans. She was cheerfully sipping chicken soup from a thermos. The housekeeper’s face held an apologetic expression: “Mrs. Spiller, it’s all my fault. I only made one serving of soup for you, and it turns out Miss Chloe loves it too.” “Oh dear, I drank it all! Clara, I’m so, so sorry!” Chloe seemed to just realize it was my nourishing meal, and her eyes welled up with tears. When Ace walked in, he saw her clutching her hands, repeatedly bowing to me. “Clara Spiller, what are you doing now?! Chloe came to see you because she was worried!” The housekeeper looked a little awkward, wanting to explain, but Chloe cut her off: “Ace, please don’t be angry. My mouth was just so greedy. As soon as I smelled the chicken soup, I couldn’t help but have a couple of sips, and then I just drank it all… Clara has every right to be mad at me…” She cried so piteously that Ace’s heart ached. “It’s just a bowl of chicken soup. You can have all you want when you’re discharged. Why are you picking a fight with Chloe?” He looked coldly at the housekeeper: “Chloe hasn’t had much appetite lately, and she rarely enjoys your chicken soup. Go back now and make another pot, and deliver it to Chloe’s hilltop mansion.” The housekeeper scurried away. Ace’s expression softened as he bent down to wipe away Chloe’s tears. “Don’t cry anymore, or you’ll be a little mess.” Chloe broke into a smile, throwing herself into his arms. “You’re making fun of me again.” The two left the hospital room, giggling, and silence once again settled around me. To my surprise, the familiar cycle of misunderstandings, scoldings, and accusations, which had played out countless times, now stirred no ripple within me. I no longer wanted to argue, to make a scene, or to explain myself. An hour later, as the doctor was checking my wound, Ace’s henchmen sauntered in, urging me to get discharged quickly, as his enemies were still stirring. One of them, taking pity on me, asked if I wanted more pain medication. I shook my head. “It’s fine.” I’ve grown accustomed to this pain. 2 His men dropped me off at the doorstep, tossing a bag of medicine at me before driving away. Ace treated me as if I were nothing, and his people regarded me like dirt. I unlocked the door, carrying the bag, only to find the house cold and empty; even the cleaning staff were gone. Ace’s call came through, his voice as cold and devoid of warmth as ever. “Chloe’s not feeling well. Your housekeeper is meticulous, so I sent them all over there.” “You’ll have to stay by yourself for a few days. They’ll come back once Chloe feels better.” He said it as if it were the most natural thing, as if the person who had been stabbed five times by his enemies and nearly died was Chloe. “Okay.” Hearing my indifferent tone, he paused for a moment, then continued: “Jot down anything you want to eat, and the housekeeper will make it for you when they come back.” “Okay.” Even through the phone, I could sense his frown. “What’s with the attitude, all for a bowl of chicken soup?” “Clara Spiller, don’t you forget, when I married you, I told you you were just a shield for Chloe. Don’t think that after three years as Mrs. Evans, you can walk all over Chloe!” I nodded mechanically. “Okay.” “You…” Just as his anger flared, Chloe called out to him. “Ace, come quickly and have some cake!” The call ended. 48 hours left until the system erased me. I felt a little hungry, but when I went to the kitchen, I found all the groceries gone, the refrigerator completely empty. Due to Ace’s peculiar identity, he never allowed me to order takeout. I rummaged through the cupboards and drawers, managing to find a single packet of expired instant noodles. The kettle had been broken and unrepaired, so I used hot water from the water heater to prepare them, then placed the bowl on the dining table. My phone chimed, showing Chloe was live streaming. Today, they weren’t at the hilltop mansion. The background seemed to be a hot spring resort. Chloe, in a loose T-shirt, was eating chocolate cake while interacting with her viewers. The man off-camera occasionally speared a piece with his fork, gently feeding it to her. [Can’t you really show your daily romance? Those fingers definitely belong to a hottie!] Chloe stuck out her tongue. “My boyfriend is the most handsome man in the world. Every time he smiles, my heart just melts.” “He chased me first, but I’m a bit timid, afraid of everything, so I dragged it out until now before saying yes.” “The cake is sweet, but not as sweet as we are.” The man stroked her hair, and her cheeks turned crimson when she smiled. Chloe finished half the cake, and I finished my unappetizing instant noodles. In the live stream, her other phone lit up. Her eyes went red as she looked at it, revealing a surprised expression. A few seconds later, she burst into heart-wrenching sobs in front of over a hundred thousand viewers. The live stream abruptly ended. I was still in a daze when Ace’s call came through. He immediately launched into a furious tirade: “Clara Spiller, all for a bowl of chicken soup, for a few housekeepers, you actually posted about Chloe and me dating online!” “If Chloe gets hurt because of this, dying ten times wouldn’t be enough!” I opened my mouth to speak: “I don’t know what you’re talking about. After I got home, I was just eating…” “Still denying it? Chloe said she only accidentally sent those pictures to you, no one else has seen them, not even me!” “Besides, the resort where we’re eating today, you’ve been there before.” “You were just in the live stream. I saw you.” His last few words were laced with a grinding fury. If I were in front of him right then, he would probably have kicked me down, forcing me to my knees to apologize to Chloe. Just like last winter, when Chloe had period cramps and specifically demanded I take care of her. But my body was weak after the miscarriage, and I had barely uttered “I’m sorry” before he grabbed my shoulders and shoved me down. That day, I must have knocked my head ten times, leaving my face covered in blood, before Chloe finally cried and said she forgave me. Ace’s angry breathing from the phone dragged me back from my memories. I looked down at the instant noodle soup and said, “It wasn’t me. I had no reason to do that.” Chloe cried again. “Ace, someone outside seems to be watching me. I’m so scared…” After the call ended, I sat motionless at the dining table, lost in thought. Sure enough, just ten minutes later, Ace’s men punched in the code and burst in, dragging me out like a sack of potatoes. “Hurry, Boss wants you to shield Miss Chloe!” 3 The hot spring resort had an enormous floor-to-ceiling glass window. I was instructed to sit at the dining table in front of the window and read. In the safest corner of the room, Ace was gently comforting a weeping Chloe. “Don’t be scared. I’m here. I’ll protect you.” She buried herself in his arms, her delicate hands clutching his expensive custom cashmere sweater. “Ace, will they kill me? I’m so afraid, I hate pain…” “No, they won’t. It’s safe here. Ace promises you’ll be fine.” Her sobs gradually subsided, and Chloe sniffled. “Ace, what would I do without you?” “Don’t talk nonsense. How could you be without me? I’ll always be with you, until we grow old.” The sounds of their kissing were too obvious. Even if I concentrated on my book, every detail reached my ears. The sounds lasted for half an hour, only stopping at the final stage. “Ace, Clara is still here. She is your wife, after all. Maybe you should find someone to protect her?” Ace glanced at me coldly. “If she hadn’t exposed our photos and location, you wouldn’t be so scared. She deserves this.” I desperately wanted to read the words on the page, but my vision was blurred. Why did tears still fall, when I supposedly no longer felt that agonizing pain? I didn’t understand, and I didn’t want to. After an unknown amount of time, the accumulated pain and exhaustion of the past few days made me drift off to sleep. I woke up to the sound of “24 hours left” ringing in my ears, accompanied by Ace’s slap across my face. “Clara Spiller, how could you be so vicious, sneaking in while I was asleep!” As I quickly stood up, I pulled at the wound on my abdomen, letting out a sharp gasp. “Don’t play innocent. Tell me, where is Chloe?!” It was then I realized I had somehow entered the bedroom. And Chloe was gone. “I don’t know. I remember I was at the floor-to-ceiling window last night…” “Cut the crap. Where did you send Chloe?!” I shook my head. “I don’t know.” “Clara Spiller, you’d better genuinely not know, or I swear I won’t let you off!” Ace said, gritting his teeth, then stormed out, making countless calls until he finally located Chloe. “Get a few men here, and bring her along!” I was bound at the feet and trapped in the back seat of Ace’s car. He drove himself, pressing the accelerator to the floor. In three years of marriage, this was the first time I’d seen him lose control like this. When we arrived at the beach, Chloe was tied by her wrists and suspended from a boat, crying hysterically. “Ace, why did you take so long? I’m so scared, please save me!” “Chloe!” Ace shouted her name anxiously, then glared menacingly at the enemies on the boat. “Let her go. I’ll give you my wife, plus two territories and ten businesses, in exchange.” The leader of the enemies, his face scarred, grinned. “Deal.” As I was slowly hoisted up, Ace was tightly embracing Chloe, whispering soothing words. When I reached the highest point, he turned and walked away with the woman he loved. I saw that back again, but this time, Chloe was by his side. The enemy leader lit a cigarette, then glanced sideways. “Do it.” The searing hot iron pressed against my skin, and I couldn’t help but cry out in agony. “Just kill me!” He shook his head: “If you die too quickly, it would be an injustice to my fallen brothers.” “Better to slowly torture you, so everyone in the underworld can see that Ace Evans isn’t so terrifying after all.” I struggled and twisted my body, but the branding iron always found its mark, hurting me so much I couldn’t even speak. I don’t know how many times he burned me. I was on the verge of losing consciousness from the pain when they finally lowered me. But just as I caught my breath, I felt a sharp sting on my wrist. He cut my wrist with a knife, then plunged it into the sea! Blood flowed into the ocean, instantly staining the seawater a vivid red. I was pressed down, unable to move, but my head was forcibly turned to my wrist, forcing me to watch my own blood drain away. Suddenly, I smiled. Ace, if I die here, will you find another shield for your young girl? Or will you simply marry her and take her home? But either way, it will no longer concern me. My consciousness gradually blurred. Before I completely slipped away, Ace’s men finally arrived, belatedly. I heard muffled negotiations, and then I was lifted onto an ambulance. Inside the vehicle, they were playing cards and laughing raucously, their noise keeping me from sleep. In my daze, I heard someone say: “Boss truly dotes on Miss Chloe. He wasn’t even going to pursue it, but the moment he saw Miss Chloe’s wrist was scraped, he got so angry he personally killed all those people.” “Hey, have you heard? Boss decided to retire from the gang for Miss Chloe.” 4 When I was resuscitated, the system informed me I had six hours left. I suddenly remembered what they said in the ambulance. Ace, because Chloe’s wrist was scraped, was going to retire from the gang. I looked down at the bandaged wounds on my wrist and the countless scars covering my body, a bitter smile on my face. Something that took me three years to achieve was, it turned out, so easily accomplished. Only, the one who completed the task wasn’t me. With four hours left, I ignored the hospital’s protests and, leaning on my fragile body, returned to the villa. Before I left, I wanted to take one last look at that medical report. But when I struggled back, I found the yard in disarray, the house completely empty. The guest bedroom was turned upside down. The things in the drawer were gone. I hastily called Ace. He answered, full of impatience: “I’m going to retire from the gang. All my previous properties will be sold, and I’ll buy new ones after everything’s clean.” “Just find somewhere to stay. Once Chloe’s emotionally stable, we’ll get a divorce.” I opened my mouth: “But the things in my bedroom drawer…” “Clara Spiller, don’t push your luck!” “Chloe’s injuries are all your fault. Sending my men to save you was already more than enough. Are you seriously expecting me to buy you a separate house just for the jewelry in your drawer?” I had nowhere to go, and I didn’t need to find a place to live. With three hours left, I sat on the doorstep, basking in the sun. The sunlight warmed my skin, but it couldn’t thaw my gradually chilling body. The garden gate creaked open, and I looked up to see Chloe, arms crossed, leaning against the gate and staring at me. “You’re truly lucky. You still haven’t died.” I paused, then smiled softly. “Soon. Don’t worry.” She was about to say something when she suddenly heard a sound and immediately dropped her arms. Tears sprang to her eyes. “Clara, I didn’t mean it, please don’t be angry, okay?” “You just got discharged, you shouldn’t get upset. I’ll ask the housekeeper to make you some chicken soup right away…” Before she could finish, Ace burst in, enraged, his phone held up in front of me. The chat log displayed a message someone had sent him. “Boss, your wife is quite something. She mass-emailed your enemies, telling them you love Chloe, and they should go after Chloe from now on, not her.” “Photos and addresses are all there. Chloe’s social media accounts have been exposed.” Ace, in a frenzy, kicked me hard in the chest. “I shouldn’t have sent anyone to save you. You’d be better off dead there!” I gasped for air, and as I looked up, the sun blinded me. A gun was pressed against my forehead, the barrel icy cold, sending a shiver down my spine. “It wasn’t me.” In these three years, I seemed to say those three words often. Chloe ran over and stopped him, crying, “Ace, Clara didn’t mean it. It’s my fault for taking the person she loved. It’s normal for her to hate me, so please don’t hurt her. She just got out of the hospital…” “It’s okay if the accounts are gone. It’s fine if they come after me. I can handle it…” Ace hugged her, his heart aching. He turned to look at me, his teeth gritted. “I really regret ever finding you. You’re restless and vicious!” His men called him: “Boss, several of our enemies are offering bounties for Miss Chloe’s life, what should we do?!” “Maybe you should take Miss Chloe abroad to hide. Someone must have told them Miss Chloe is at the villa, they’re already heading that way!” Ace’s eyes flickered. “I know who told them.” He started a live stream, appearing on camera for the first time in his life, but quickly turned the camera to face me. “I am Ace Evans. As of today, I’m retiring from the gang and will no longer be involved in underworld affairs.” “All of you who have grievances and grudges, come find her. Everything I’ve done in the past was at her instigation. Now, I no longer wish to be with her. She’s yours to deal with.” I gasped for air. “I shielded Chloe for three years. Now you want me to die for you?” Ace grabbed my collar and dragged me all the way to the main road. As he threw me down and walked away, he left a cold parting remark: “This is all your own doing. Whether you live or die is up to fate.” This was the last time I saw his back. Cold, resolute. He disappeared. Not even ten minutes later, countless enemies swarmed from all directions. They unleashed all their pent-up resentment and fury on me, no one holding back. My tendons were severed, my legs broken, and countless knives plunged into my chest. They roared for revenge for their relatives, brothers, and friends, gripping my chin and demanding an apology. But I felt as if I had lost all sensation of pain, only staring blankly at the clear blue sky. It was good. Before I died, I could see a vast expanse of blue, not a single cloud in sight. Just like the day I first entered this world. “Mission failed. Erase protocol initiated.” “In one hour, all your identity information will be erased. Clara Spiller will completely vanish from this world.”

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The lofty Miss Avery Parker of Crown City dumped me, a mere bar host, at my birthday. My sister shut down his bar and planned to send him to a remote mine. Avery stayed quiet. Three days later, my brakes failed, and I crashed into a shantytown. Unconscious, I was dragged into an alley. I woke up bruised, with compromising photos on my phone. Avery used them to break off our engagement. The next day, the bartender, Brandon White, moved into her home. My childhood fiancée, Miss Celeste McDougall, said she’d marry me despite the scandal. At our civil registration, I overheard groomsmen outside: Avery set me up to be with Brandon, and Celeste only married me to stop my family from investigating him. Both their hearts belonged to that one man. I looked at myself in the groom’s suit, disgusted. Tearing off my jacket and tie, I drove to the International Medical Aid Center. Filling the forms with trembling hands, I wrote clearly: “I’m applying for Latin America. I’ll sign the waiver—my life, my responsibility.” … The director flipped through my resume, his brows furrowed so deeply they could trap a fly. “Dr. Hart, there’s an ongoing conflict and a dengue fever outbreak in Latin America right now. Two of the three doctors we sent have already been infected, and the armed factions there don’t follow rules. You might genuinely not come back.” I closed my eyes, my heart aching as if squeezed, but my voice was calm when I spoke. “I know. I’ll take Sister Wang’s place; she’s pregnant and it’s inconvenient for her. It’s convenient for me.” The director looked at my expensive shirt and trousers, sighing. “Isn’t today your wedding day? Why are you here?” Tears splattered on the ground. I quickly wiped my face with the back of my hand, saying nothing. She didn’t ask further, directly approving my application. A top surgeon willing to go to such a place, they couldn’t ask for more. “The special flight leaves at seven tomorrow morning.” “If you make it back alive, the organization will apply for the highest honor for you, and your sister’s hospital will also receive international aid funding.” I bowed, then turned and walked out. The white Porsche I’d left at the entrance was gone. Just as I was about to call a taxi, Avery pulled up in that very car, stopping in front of me. She rolled down the window, a slender lady’s cigarette between her fingers, her gaze as indifferent as if she were looking at a stranger: “Allo likes this car. I was just having someone pick it up, and I happened to run into you, so I just drove it away.” I looked at the steering wheel, my throat tight. She had bought this car abroad three years ago, spending forty million, claiming it was my birthday gift. There were only twenty of them worldwide, and the license plate was even my birthday. Back then, she had taught me to drive it herself, saying the car suited me, Allen Hart. Now, for Brandon, she wanted back even things she had given away. I smiled faintly, ignored her, and turned to leave. Behind me, the engine roared, her voice a little impatient. “It’s your big day today, why are you here?” “Get in. I’ll drive you back to the registry office. Don’t waste time, or Celeste will dump you and you won’t even have time to cry.” I didn’t look back. “I’m not getting married.” Avery scoffed, the scent of tobacco wafting on the wind: “Allen Hart, don’t I know your little schemes? You just can’t let go of me, you’re unwilling to be with Celeste.” “Coming here, isn’t it just to get my attention?” “But after what happened to you in the shantytown, my Parker family can’t have you anymore.” “I’ve already had those people who touched you dealt with. Consider it my closing statement.” “Now, Celeste is willing to have you. You should be counting your blessings. Don’t be ungrateful.” I turned to look at her. Her face was still the same beautiful face that was hard to look away from, but what was inside had long since rotted. Counting my blessings? It was just another calculation. Brandon, selling drinks and charming customers in a bar, how much cleaner could he be than me? I opened my mouth, but only one word escaped: “Scram.” Her face instantly darkened. She pushed open the car door, grabbed my wrist, and shoved me towards the car. “Allen Hart, we’re long over. Don’t cling to me like a lunatic.” “Celeste is my childhood friend. You should be celebrating that she’s willing to have you. Don’t mess up this chance.” She sped all the way to the Hart family gates, pushed me out of the car, and then stomped on the accelerator, leaving. My sister was already pacing at the door, her face dark when she saw me. “Where have you been? The McDougall family is waiting for you to sign, and you’re not answering your phone. Do you want to kill me with worry?” I took a deep breath and told her about going to Latin America. My sister swayed, almost losing her balance. “No! Are you crazy? That’s a suicide mission! I forbid it!” 2 I forced myself to calm down and repeated verbatim what I had overheard outside the dressing room. My sister’s face flushed crimson as she listened. She grabbed her car keys, ready to confront Avery Parker and Celeste McDougall. I clung to her arm tightly: “Sis, please let me go. If I really marry Celeste, every day after that will be torture.” “Going to Latin America isn’t just to escape; it’s also to earn some reputation for our family.” “Besides, leaving here is the only relief for me.” My sister looked at me, the keys in her hand falling to the ground. She didn’t speak for a long time. She loved me, but the Hart family had such a large estate, and there were still those relatives from the side branches watching. If I could use this method to bring some benefit to the family, no matter how much her heart ached, she would have to consider it. The motorcade for the wedding arrived at the gate. I hadn’t done my hair, hadn’t changed clothes, and walked straight out. Celeste stood by the car, wearing her usual smile. I looked at her face, my heart feeling like something was lodged in it. She didn’t love me, she was shielding another man, yet how could she act so convincingly? I said indifferently, “I’m not getting married. You should go back.” Celeste’s face changed. She stepped forward, grabbed my hand, and lowered her voice: “Allen, what’s with the drama? Right now, I’m the only one in the entire city who doesn’t look down on you. If you break off this engagement with me, do you want people to talk behind your back for the rest of your life?” “I know you’re still thinking about Avery, but if you truly love someone, shouldn’t you support their happiness?” My nose stung. I tilted my head back, forcing the tears away, and looked at her, smiling: “So you also like Brandon. To make them happy, you’re sacrificing yourself to take me?” “To keep me from bothering Brandon, you’re marrying me to keep me under your thumb, right?” Her eyes flickered, but she stood her ground, her eyes even reddening. “Allen, how could you think that of me? We grew up together, don’t you know what kind of person I am?” Onlookers began to murmur. “Ms. McDougall is being kind to him, and he’s slandering her. What kind of man is this?” “Exactly. Ms. McDougall, since he doesn’t appreciate it, just break off the engagement! Who would want a man who’s been defiled, besides you!” My sister stood beside me, her face dark with anger, about to speak up about what happened that night. I quickly pressed her hand, shook my head at her, and whispered in her ear, “Sis, we can’t say anything. The Parker and McDougall families are allied; we can’t fight them.” “Avery just secured those big projects; she’s riding high. Even if she hired people to harm me, even if she ruined my reputation for Brandon, if she wants to whitewash it, she can make black sound white.” “Right now, no one will believe us. They’ll just think we’re slandering them for sympathy.” My sister’s chest heaved with anger. Finally, she swung her arm and went inside, leaving me alone. Celeste took my hand again, her face full of tenderness. “Allen, you’re not in a good mood today. I can wait. This engagement is forever valid, as long as you promise me not to go after Avery and Brandon again.” I shook off her hand, my eyes turning cold. “I won’t be with you, and I won’t go after Avery again. Never in this life, because I’m about to…” Before I could finish, Brandon, driving the white Porsche Avery had just taken from me, roared his engine and stopped by the road. He was wearing a custom casual suit from a famous brand. When he got out, his body was as soft as if he had no bones. He looked at Celeste with a hint of something different in his eyes. Celeste’s eyes brightened, then quickly dimmed. Brandon walked up to me, his eyes reddening, and he started to cry, looking incredibly pitiful: “Hart, why did you go to see Avery again today? You’re about to get married, why are you still clinging to her?” 3 The murmurs from the crowd grew harsher. “Just now he said he wouldn’t bother Ms. Parker, but then her official boyfriend shows up. Where’s his face?” “Ms. McDougall’s sincerity was wasted on a dog. This kind of man should get out of Crown City.” Celeste, hearing I had gone to see Avery today, her eyes immediately turned cold. She instinctively stepped in front of Brandon, her tone full of reproach: “Allen, I know you look down on Brandon, thinking he’s from a bar, not clean, and not good enough for Avery.” “But he only served drinks in the bar; he never did anything like that. He’s still innocent.” “On the contrary, after that night, you’re much dirtier than him.” I took a deep breath. The hot June wind felt like knives on my face. Yes, Avery, to whitewash Brandon and make him suitable for the Parker family’s prestige, had immediately bought off several media outlets to change their stories, and even had him adopted by a retired female professor as a godmother, giving him a layer of gold. Overnight, I became the scorned outcast of Crown City, while he became the inspirational, pure idol, Ms. Parker’s darling. Brandon suddenly pointed at the diamond-studded watch on my wrist, his voice sharp: “How did you steal my things? This is Avery’s love token for me! How is it on your hand?!” My body stiffened, my eyes reddened as I looked at Celeste: “This watch, didn’t you give it to me last night?” Celeste’s eyes darted away, unwilling to meet mine, but her tone was firm: “When did I ever give you a watch? You’re light-fingered yourself, don’t drag me into this.” My ears were filled with accusations of being a thief, words hitting me like stones. I endured the tearing pain in my chest, my hands trembling as I unclasped the watch and violently threw it to the ground. The watch face shattered, pieces scattering onto Brandon’s feet. I questioned, “I’ve never been to the Parker family home. How could I have stolen this watch?” Brandon clutched his ankle, a flicker of triumph in his eyes, as he wailed to the onlookers: “The Parker family’s servants all saw him come by today! If you don’t believe me, ask them!” Suddenly, a clear, cold female voice came from outside the crowd: “Allo, it’s just a watch. If he wants it, let him have it. I’ll buy you a better one. Allen and I have known each other since childhood, let’s not make a scene on his big day.” Avery parted the crowd and walked over, pushing Celeste aside, and embraced Brandon, her eyes full of possessiveness: “Thank you, Celeste, for looking after Allo for me. You two continue; Allo and I are leaving first.” I called out to her. “Avery, you know very well I wasn’t at your house today. Why aren’t you explaining for me?” She stopped, turned back, her eyes utterly cold. She leaned close to my ear, speaking in a voice only we two could hear: “I just want you to completely give up. No matter how pitiful you pretend to be, I won’t look at you again. If you keep clinging to me, it’ll only disgust me.” My eyes ached terribly, but it felt like my tears had dried up. I remembered when I was a child, no matter who wronged me, Avery would be the first to rush to my defense. She had said I was her little prince, and no one could bully me. And now, to force me away, she indulged the man she loved in publicly slandering me. She didn’t know, even if I wanted to cling to her, I wouldn’t have the chance. After tomorrow, Allen Hart would no longer exist in Crown City.

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After realizing I was the villainess in an e-sports novel, I stopped using my position as team manager to control Jax Thorne. When the true heroine joined, I quickly handed over my duties and moved to a new club. During the Spring Split, our two teams clashed. Jax was out for blood. Before the match, I offered a few words of comfort to our rookie mid-laner. Jax dove under towers, relentlessly hunting the mid-laner. The commentators: “This must be a strategic play Jax discussed with his teammates!” The broadcast switched to the TNG team’s voice chat. Teammate: “Jax, are you crazy?! Get back to your jungle!” Jax, eyes red: “Didn’t you see? Harper just touched his shoulder!” Teammates: … Commentators: … 1 I was the manager for Jax Thorne, the legendary jungler. For half a month, I’d woken up early to make yam porridge for him, bringing it to the club every day to soothe his stomach. Jax would grimace, chewing and grumbling, “Summer Hayes, aren’t you annoying? This stuff tastes terrible.” Just as I was about to insist he finish every bite, a series of comments popped up in my vision: [How is this villainess such a simp? She doesn’t even know the male lead is allergic to yams?] [No wonder Jax has been so quiet these past two weeks. Yam allergies make your tongue numb…] [Jax doesn’t deserve this. He’s been taking allergy medicine for half a month to spare the villainess’s feelings.] [Other players train 13 hours a day, and Jax is groggy from his meds.] [Thank goodness the heroine is coming online tomorrow. Jax is finally escaping his misery!] My jaw dropped as I stared at Jax. He was still frowning, spooning the porridge into his mouth. I quickly reached out and snatched the container. Turning, I handed it to Leo Vance, a passing youth trainee. “Leo, you eat this. You look like you’ve lost weight recently.” The air instantly went still. Jax, spoon in hand, froze. A few seconds later, his tense shoulders slumped, and he leaned back into his gaming chair. A cold sneer twisted his lips. “Fine. Looks like I dodged a bullet today.” His words really stung. Allergy aside, how many hours of sleep had I sacrificed to make him that porridge every day? And his allergy? That wasn’t my fault. What kind of normal person would suffer for half a month without saying anything? The more I thought about it, the angrier I got. I snatched the spoon from Jax’s hand and gave it to Leo. Leo slurped a big mouthful, his eyes lighting up. “Manager Hayes’s porridge is so fragrant and soft, it’s amazing! If Jax doesn’t want his in the future, can I have it all?” I was about to say there wouldn’t be a “future.” Jax’s expression stiffened. With a loud clatter, his gaming chair was kicked back. Leo and I both turned. Jax strode over in a few steps, snatching the container back from Leo. “That’s enough! I haven’t even had breakfast yet!” He then tipped the container directly into his mouth, his cheeks bulging as he chewed furiously. I stared at him like he was the biggest idiot on Earth. Seriously, what was wrong with this guy? The comments called him a dog, and he was really guarding his food like one. [??? No way, why is Jax so desperate? Is he addicted to allergy meds?] [Maybe he’s got rabies now] [LOL, I’m dying. Jax’s masochistic tendencies are an old problem, huh?] [Dogs don’t deserve this. My dog even knows not to eat chocolate…] 2 Thanks to the comments, I roughly understood the plot. Turns out, I was the villainess in an e-sports novel. Using my privileges as team manager, I’d been secretly pestering Jax. The true heroine, Harper Miller, loved gaming, and after joining TNG, she quickly became close to the team and a playful rival with Jax. They’d reach the peak of love and career together. As for my fate: fueled by hatred, I’d collude with an opponent, betraying information, and be driven out of the e-sports world. …Oh, come on, fate! You didn’t even treat me like a decent human being! I wake up earlier than a rooster and go to bed later than a dog, only to end up losing everything? What kind of justice is that? 3 To resist the storyline, I avoided bothering Jax the entire day. Around eight in the evening, the boss told me Jax had “gone on strike” today and asked me to find him. I drove to the industrial park bar Jax frequented. Sure enough, in a private room, Jax’s long frame was slumped in a sofa, a glass of whiskey in his hand. The comment section was filled with lamentations about how handsome “Jax the dog” was! I pursed my lips; he didn’t even drink alcohol; he was just sitting there, purely for show. Suddenly, I heard someone loudly ask Jax: “Jax, is that yam-porridge manager of yours still bothering you?” Yam-porridge manager… I really wanted to twist the heads off these rich kids and kick them around like balls! But I was so smitten, my hand reaching for the door involuntarily slowed by half a beat. Unfortunately, Jax didn’t say anything. His friend beside him spoke first. “If it weren’t for the club’s sake, Jax wouldn’t have put up with her for so long, right, Jax?” Jax’s hand paused, and he didn’t deny it. It was the reaction I expected. I pinched my palm, then, with a burst of resolve, pushed open the private room door. Everyone’s gaze turned to me. Jax’s expression stiffened for a moment, then quickly reverted to his usual cold demeanor. I pretended not to notice, walked over, and tossed his team jacket onto the coffee table. “Review meeting tomorrow at eight AM. Now, get up and come back to the base with me.” He lifted his slender eyelids to glance at me, but didn’t move. The rich kid with dyed blonde hair blew a smoke ring and scoffed. “Seriously, Manager Hayes, who exactly are you to Jax? Even his own mom doesn’t boss him around this much, does she?” The room erupted in laughter. I remained unmoved, simply tapping my wrist and looking at Jax. Bang! The whiskey glass in his hand hit the glass table, liquid splashing. The laughter instantly choked. Jax grabbed his team jacket, stood up, and placed himself between me and the blonde-haired guy. His face was cold, his tone casual but laced with aggression: “I’m happy to pay someone to manage me. You got a problem with that?” Without waiting for the blonde-haired guy’s scowl, he pulled me out of the private room. 4 In the parking garage, Jax got into the car first. He leaned back in his seat, irritably tugging at his collar, his tone displeased. “Summer Hayes, can you stop treating me like a child in front of outsiders?” “Don’t worry,” I said softly. “I won’t anymore.” I didn’t linger by his side as usual. After closing his car door, I slipped into the passenger seat. “Driver, please take us back to the base.” The car was silent for a few seconds. Jax’s eyebrows furrowed, his tone becoming even more agitated. “Summer, what’s with the attitude? Is it because of that damn porridge this morning? I ended up eating the whole pot, didn’t I?” He thought I was still sulking about the morning incident. I turned my head to look at the streaking night outside, not bothering to argue. Jax stared at me for a long moment, then let out a cold scoff, closing his eyes to sleep. The driver, accustomed to this, kept his eyes on the road. I laughed at myself internally. The blonde guy was right, actually. I did micromanage Jax too much. 5 The entire e-sports world knew I was Jax Thorne’s “nanny.” Jax was the highlight of my career. He was also the first successful player I’d managed. He’d raked in trophies from domestic and international tournaments, and my salary had increased six or sevenfold because of him. But as talented as Jax was, he had just as many quirks. Low blood sugar, tenosynovitis, and nervous gastritis—all at once. If he missed even one meal, I worried he’d die in his gaming chair… But I didn’t want Jax to die. I didn’t want anything to happen to him. I couldn’t remember when exactly, but I started cooking for him in various ways, coaxing him to eat. Jax was quite unhappy about it. Everyone in the circle admired my patience. “Summer, you deserve to earn that money!” Even Jax asked me, “Why are you so shamelessly managing me? Are you afraid I’ll die and no one will win games and make money for you?” They thought I’d thrown away my dignity for money. But to be honest, most of the money still went into the boss’s and players’ pockets. My self-appointed care for him, the biggest reason was to repay a debt of gratitude from two years ago. 6 The year I entered the industry, the club was just starting out. Everyone wore multiple hats, and I was often dragged by the boss to liquor events to drink on his behalf. One investor, Mr. Davies, loved to use a profile picture of his family of four while sending lewd messages to young women at the table. Later, he did invest a good deal of money. I couldn’t block him, so I just put him on do not disturb, out of sight, out of mind. Jax joined the club not long after and saw the messages on my computer. He averted his gaze, his brow furrowed so deeply it looked like it could trap a fly. “Why don’t you delete them? Is Julian forcing you?” Julian was the club owner’s name. I didn’t even look up, working as I spoke, “He’s an investor. No need to offend him. Just don’t reply.” He looked at me intently, but said nothing more. At the intercontinental championship celebration, that investor was also present. He clapped Jax on the shoulder, praising his youthful ambition. Of course, he didn’t care about the player’s achievements; he just wanted to use Jax to get closer to the Thorne family. Jax sat at the head of the table, not even touching his drink. His gaze suddenly swept across the crowd, then he put on an innocent, somewhat troubled expression: “Manager, can I drink?” 7 I was lost in thought when my name was suddenly called. Everyone turned to look at me. Catching Jax’s eye, I understood and played along. “No drinking. Your stomach just recovered.” Jax didn’t hesitate for a second. His lips curved, his tone regretful, yet his expression was utterly dismissive. “My apologies. Our manager has spoken, and I have to listen to her.” The investor’s jowls stiffened, then he immediately forced a fawning smile: “Yes, yes, of course, Young Master Thorne’s health is precious, no need to drink!” From that day on, I never received another harassing message on my phone. I knew it was a simple favor for Jax. In fact, he’d probably forgotten all about it. But he truly had, effortlessly, resolved a tricky problem for me. I owed him, and I desperately wanted to be good to him. The comments said my behavior was “simp-like,” and that I was a burden to Jax. Honestly, I still don’t understand. For example, why was my “goodness” to Jax so clumsy? Perhaps I never learned how to better express gratitude or love for someone. No one had ever taught me. My phone buzzed, pulling my thoughts back—a message from the boss. “The Miller family’s daughter wants to check out our club. Can you show her around?” I mechanically opened the attached resume. Harper Miller, a delicate face, eyes like stars. Her name matched the heroine’s name from the comments. 8 The next day, as soon as I entered the base, my assistant, Chloe, rushed over to me as if I were a savior, tears in her voice. “Summer, help! You’re finally here! This morning, Jax was sitting there with a grim face, clutching his stomach, not saying anything. He probably got gastritis again from staying up late. The rookie team is so scared they don’t even dare to type. You need to go calm him down…” Before she finished speaking, the frosted glass door of the training room opened. Jax walked out, wearing an oversized gray hoodie, his face cold. The area instantly fell silent; the players all uniformly bent their heads, furiously typing on their keyboards. He walked directly to me, leaning in slightly, his tired face close to mine. “Summer Hayes, you’re fifteen minutes late today.” Then he opened his long, slender palm. “Where’s my porridge?” [No way, a second round? Bro really thinks he’s a divine farmer, testing poisons, huh?] [It expresses some of the male lead’s hunger…] [Didn’t they say the male lead has anorexia? This greedy boy might actually have regained his appetite because of the villainess?] I took a half-step back, creating a safe distance between us. “No porridge. And there won’t be any in the future.” With that, I pulled out a strip of stomach medicine and half a pack of soda crackers from my bag, and slapped them into his arms. Jax lowered his head, staring at the items in his arms, his expression bewildered. “Summer Hayes, are you serious?” 9 The knuckles of his hand, clutching the crackers, were slightly pale, and his voice held a hint of urgency. “What did I do to upset you?” [Jax, please donate your brain. You don’t remember what your friends were gossiping about the villainess last night?] [Super dense male lead, but it’s good to let the villainess give up, saves her from future heartbreak…] [Whatever, hurry up and get offline, villainess, I want to see a sweet romance!] Jax frowned, staring at me. In the past, I would have been heartbroken for a long time. Then I’d have gone to sleep alone, comforted myself, and continued to stubbornly manage him and stick to him. But this time, I suppressed the ache in my heart and calmly spoke: “Jax, I’m the manager, not a nanny. Making porridge isn’t part of my job. If there’s nothing else, I’ll get back to work.” With that, I walked past him without a backward glance, heading towards my office. Behind me, I heard hushed whispers: “Is Manager Hayes in a bad mood today?” “Didn’t you see the group chat? Miss Miller just joined… Manager Hayes is probably being sidelined.” I pushed open my office door. The “Miller family daughter” my colleague had been mentioning was sitting proudly in my office chair.

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My company clawed its way up from a back-alley workshop to an industry titan, and it was all thanks to me – the cornerstone who raked in billions. The entire company treated me like royalty. My boss, overflowing with gratitude, publicly promised me free rein over any resource I wanted, no questions asked, no corporate red tape. But the new agent didn’t get the memo. She didn’t just reassign all my high-end endorsements to a rookie; she even made me hold the train of her new favorite starlet on the red carpet. Her reasoning? “Washed-up old-timers should make way for new talent. You’re just a background player now.” I nodded, posted a quick message on social media, packed my bags, and walked out. The next day, my boss rushed back overnight, bringing her along, and they both knelt outside my door. My social media post had been liked and pinned by the CEO of a rival media company, rocketing to the top of the trending topics. 1 “V&G’s global ambassador for this fall’s collection? The company’s decided to sign Lily next month.” Eliza Braga. A golden-ticket agent who’d parachuted into the company three days ago. She slid a termination agreement across the table towards me. V&G – a top-tier luxury brand I’d represented as their Asia-Pacific face for five years. And Lily? She’d only just made a tiny splash after two web series. A fresh face the company had just signed. Eliza saw I was still leaning back in my chair, unmoving, and lifted her chin. “Summer Hayes, you’ve peaked. But for the company to grow, we need to cultivate new talent.” “Lily has immense potential. This endorsement will help her quickly gain national recognition. As a member of this company, you have an obligation to cooperate.” I finally lifted my gaze to meet hers. “Is this Arthur’s decision?” Arthur Price. The company’s CEO. Back when Starlight Entertainment couldn’t even make payroll, I worked grueling shifts for zero pay, filming countless projects back-to-back, pulling the company back from the brink of bankruptcy. I alone was responsible for ninety percent of the company’s revenue. It’s safe to say Starlight wouldn’t be where it is today without me, Summer Hayes. Just last year, at the annual gala, Arthur had publicly declared to the entire company that I could use any resource I wanted, with no one to interfere. But Eliza, seeing me invoke the CEO’s name, merely scoffed. “Mr. Price is a busy man. For trivial matters like this, I, as an agent, can decide. He entrusted your contract to me, which shows his faith in my professional judgment.” She pulled out a rather simple script from her bag and placed it on top of the endorsement termination agreement. “Of course, the company won’t mistreat you. There’s a short series project here; you can pick any role you like. While it’s a short series, the production team is quite competent. Do well, and you could still make waves.” Me, a top-tier, multi-award-winning actress, starring in an unknown short series? The audacity. I couldn’t be bothered with her. I just picked up my phone and dialed Arthur’s number. It rang five or six times before he picked up. “Summer, why are you calling so early?” I cut straight to the chase: “The new agent has pulled my high-end endorsement, saying she wants to use it as a stepping stone for Lily. I just want to confirm, is this your decision?” There was a noticeable pause on the other end. After a moment, Arthur cleared his throat. “Summer, Eliza mentioned this to me yesterday. You know, the company needs to nurture fresh blood. You’re not short on endorsements, are you? It’s not worth arguing over a little piece of the pie with a young girl.” The back of my hand, gripping the phone, tensed, veins protruding. “Arthur, are you really going with this?” He chuckled awkwardly. “Eliza’s new; you should give her some respect, don’t always act like the untouchable star. Let’s think about the bigger picture. I’m still with some investors on the golf course. We’ll talk when I get back to the office later, alright?” The call was abruptly ended. Eliza watched me, perfectly composed, a smirk playing on her lips. “Hear that?” “Your track record used to be impressive, but this year’s just begun. You need to face reality and stop thinking the company can’t function without you. Mr. Price handed me your full contract, so I have the authority to plan all your work. This endorsement, you will give it up today. And this series, you will join the cast.” Eliza and her entourage stormed out. I stared at Arthur’s name on my phone, then removed him from my starred contacts. Afterward, I instructed my assistant, Ashley: “Find my contract and all associated agreements from over the years. Every single one.” 2 The next day, at the Starlight Gala red carpet. In previous years, my gown would be the top design of the season, flown in and attended to by personal stylists. But this year, my dressing room was still empty moments before it was time to leave. Ashley was frantic, making countless calls, only to get the same reply: “Agent Braga is arranging it; please wait.” Just then, the dressing room door swung open. Eliza walked in, her heels clicking, followed by Lily, resplendent in a shimmering, starry gown. I recognized that dress—it was the very same top-tier haute couture piece confirmed to me in photos, a global exclusive. Lily smiled at me, her face brimming with smugness. “Summer, isn’t this dress just gorgeous? Eliza said I’d shine on the red carpet tonight.” Eliza eyed her creation with satisfaction, then pulled out a garment bag. “Considering Lily’s commercial value, the company decided, after careful deliberation, to give the haute couture to her. This is your gown. Time’s almost up, hurry and change!” Ashley took the bag and opened it. Inside was a black, long dress, outdated in style, and utterly unremarkable. It had even been worn before by some third-rate actress. Ashley’s eyes welled up with anger. “Agent Braga, what is this? Summer can’t wear this!” “And why not?” Eliza’s face immediately darkened. “The company treats everyone equally. Given her current status, this is perfectly suitable. What’s wrong with an older design? It’s still haute couture, paid for by the company. Smaller companies would kill for it! The red carpet is about to start. If you don’t change, the damage to the company, you won’t be able to afford even if you’re all fired!” “You—” I pulled back a fuming Ashley, merely gazing at my reflection in the mirror. Fifteen minutes later, I had changed into the black dress. Eliza scrutinized me, then sneered. “Not bad. This color will be perfect for accentuating Lily.” I ignored her. But unexpectedly, just before we were about to go out, she grabbed me again. Eliza pointed to Lily’s gown. “Lily’s train is too long. The red carpet will be crowded, and it wouldn’t do for someone to step on it. You’re just a plus-one today, so you can help her hold up her train. Taking care of junior colleagues is also something you should do.” At her words, the room fell silent. Ashley’s face flushed crimson, her fists clenched. “Eliza Braga, don’t you dare go too far! Make a top-tier star hold the train for a rookie, in front of everyone? You’re deliberately trying to humiliate Summer!” I stopped Ashley from exploding. Looking at Eliza, I asked, each word deliberate, “Is this Arthur’s decision too?” Eliza smirked, her triumph evident. “Mr. Price specifically instructed that all red carpet arrangements tonight are to be handled by me. Your job is to be a background player, to fully support the new talent. The company’s PR statements have already been sent out. If you don’t cooperate, I’ll have no choice but to freeze all your endorsements and contracts for insubordination. Summer Hayes, everything you have is currently in the company’s hands. I don’t care what privileges you had before; from now on, you must comply with all company decisions.” I clenched my jaw. I dialed Arthur’s number again. The phone rang for a long time, but no one answered. This was the first time in all these years that he hadn’t picked up my call. Meeting Eliza’s triumphant gaze, I lowered my eyes and nodded. “Alright.” As soon as the red carpet event ended, the topic “Washed-up Star Summer Hayes Holds Train for Rookie” soared to the top of the trending topics. On social media, my fans and Lily’s fans were engaged in a fierce war of words. Yet, the company’s PR department did nothing, allowing the controversy to escalate. In just one short hour, Lily’s followers surged by several million! 3 The red carpet drama was still unfolding. The next morning, Eliza called me into her office again. She was in excellent spirits and even offered me a cup of tea. “Last night’s event was quite effective. Lily’s national recognition skyrocketed overnight.” Next, she pushed another script towards me. “Strike while the iron’s hot. This series, I want you to mentor her through it.” The script’s cover bore two bold words: Chasing Light. The author, Clara Vance, was a dear friend of mine for ten years, and now one of the hottest literary sensations in the online fiction world. Every story she penned became a hit, making her work incredibly valuable commercially. Chasing Light was her passion project, and also a gift she wrote for my thirtieth birthday. She explicitly stated that the film and TV rights would only be sold to my company, and only I would play the leading role. Eliza clearly knew the weight of this series, a smile playing on her lips. “Clara’s team has confirmed; the rights will be signed to Starlight. The company has decided to make this series a top-tier, S+ project this year.” She paused, tapping her finger on the script. “However, for the leading lady, the company has new considerations. Lily’s image aligns very well with the character’s early stages, so the company plans to cast her. As for you, you can play the supporting female lead. It’s a very likable character, and it shouldn’t be too challenging for you.” I almost laughed at her audacity. Using a gift from my friend to promote a rookie, and then expecting me to play second fiddle to her? “Eliza Braga, you’re dreaming.” “This is the company’s decision,” she said, unfazed. “As a member of the company, for the company’s growth, you must comply.” Soon after she left, my phone rang. It was Clara, her voice filled with barely suppressed fury. “Summer, is that Eliza Braga at your company insane? She just called me, saying Chasing Light is for Lily to play the lead, and for you to play the second lead! I refused on the spot, told her no one but you would play the lead in this script, or I’d rather let it rot on my computer! And then guess what that woman said?” “She said I’d already sold the rights to Starlight, so Starlight calls the shots now. And that I’m just a writer, I shouldn’t think too highly of myself!” Clara was panting with rage. “Not only did she insult me, she also said you’re a washed-up actress now, lucky to even get a role, so I shouldn’t be picky! The worst part is, I called Arthur, and he actually played coy with me! Said it was all for the company’s development??? Has he forgotten how the company started? What an idiot!” I gripped my phone, my knuckles white from the pressure. I remembered years ago. Back then, I was a nobody. The company was on the verge of bankruptcy. I landed a cosmetics endorsement and excitedly called Arthur to share the good news. That day, he was even more thrilled than I was, getting completely drunk at the celebration dinner. He grabbed my hand, his eyes red-rimmed, repeating over and over: “Summer, you’re the savior of our company! From now on, the company is your home, and I’m your big brother! Do whatever you want, and if anyone dares to give you a hard time, I’ll be the first to go after them!” His excitement and sincerity back then felt like yesterday. But now, it had become so alien. At this moment, the last shred of sentiment I held for him was completely severed. “Clara, don’t be angry yet. Chasing Light was just a verbal agreement back then; I deliberately delayed the paperwork. Since they’re being dishonorable, don’t blame us for finding another company to work with!” After hanging up, I scrolled through my contacts to another name: Danny Vance. The CEO of Stellar Media, and Starlight Entertainment’s biggest competitor. For three years, he’d tried to poach me no less than a hundred times. The phone was answered almost instantly, Danny’s deep voice coming through. “Summer Hayes? What a rare treat.” I got straight to the point: “Mr. Vance, I’m bringing Clara and all the rights to Chasing Light to sign with Stellar. There’s only one condition: I must be the lead actress in this series.” Silence on the other end for three seconds, followed by a soft chuckle from Danny. “I’ve been waiting for you to say that for three years. I agree to all your conditions. Just come, without worry.” 4 The next morning, the news of Chasing Light officially announcing Summer Hayes as its lead actress, personally released by screenwriter Clara Vance, instantly captivated the entire internet. My fans celebrated, overjoyed to tears. The general public also expressed immense anticipation for this explosive combination. The topic quickly climbed, directly topping the trending charts. Arthur Price, on a business trip in a neighboring city, saw the news—my photo with Clara and the overwhelming praise. He immediately messaged me: “Summer, such great news about Chasing Light having a press conference, why didn’t you tell me in advance? As your boss, I must be there to support you.” I looked at the message, didn’t reply, and just turned off my phone. The next morning, at the press conference. I was holding the microphone, thanking Clara for her trust and the company for its support, when the back door of the venue suddenly opened. Arthur, with Eliza Braga in tow, strode in confidently, beaming. He walked directly onto the stage and naturally took the microphone from the host. “Hello everyone, I’m Arthur Price from Starlight Entertainment. Summer is our company’s most outstanding artist, and Chasing Light is our most important core project this year. Starlight will spare no effort to invest all resources to present the best possible work to everyone.” He spoke with grandiloquent enthusiasm, but the media in the audience exchanged bewildered glances. Finally, a reporter couldn’t help but raise a hand and ask, “Mr. Price, aren’t you mistaken? As far as we know, the production company for Chasing Light is Stellar Media. And today’s press conference is also hosted by Stellar Media.” Arthur’s smile froze. He stared blankly at me, then at the massive Stellar Media logo below the stage. Just then, Danny Vance slowly emerged from backstage and stood beside me. He took the microphone, offering Arthur a slight smile. “Mr. Price, I believe you are mistaken. Today, Stellar Media is holding a welcome ceremony and new series launch press conference for our newly signed actress, Ms. Summer Hayes.” Danny paused, his gaze sweeping across the entire room. It finally settled on Arthur and Eliza’s pale faces. “Oh, and by the way, I’d like to extend a special thanks to Mr. Price. If it weren’t for your short-sightedness, your self-sabotage, in handing over such an excellent actress and such a top-tier project to us, Stellar would never have had the chance to pick up such a massive bargain.”

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Everyone said I married into the Thorne family purely on the strength of a pretty face and a well-timed bout of amnesia. That was until Professor Kyle Gilbert, A-University’s genius, invented a time machine and publicly suggested to my husband: “Aren’t you curious, Mr. Thorne, what your immaculately backgrounded wife looked like at eighteen?” My face paled. I forced a smile: “Don’t we all look a bit rough at eighteen? Nothing worth seeing. Let’s go, Sebastian.” I assumed Sebastian Thorne, with his usual composure, would flatly refuse such a farce. But the man simply didn’t move. His gaze swept past Kyle, finally resting on my stark white face, and he nodded: “Alright.” 1 Sebastian Thorne’s agreement caused a considerable stir in the room. I paused, slightly stunned. Then, I tried to lift the corners of my lips. “These newly invented machines, don’t they carry some potential risks? Maybe we should wait a few years until they’re safer to try…” My words were cut short by the genius’s calm interjection. “Mrs. Thorne, are you questioning my expertise?” Kyle Gilbert, A-University’s most brilliant graduate in recent years. Young, yet he had published numerous top-tier papers, at the forefront of various research fields. The time machine was his passion project, an invention he had poured years of effort into, presented to the public only after multiple tests. I breathed out a small smile: “Not at all.” “I just feel it’s unnecessary.” I looked at Sebastian, my voice soft: “You know, my parents passed away early, and I’ve finally gotten through that tough time. Of course, I don’t want to revisit those painful memories. Besides, all those forgotten memories between us, you’ve already taken me to relive them, haven’t you?” Sebastian was actually a calm and somewhat languid person. Five years my senior, he rarely forced me to do anything. But at this moment, he remained still. His eyes were fixed on my face, then calmly dropped to observe the tense lines on the back of my hand. He spoke with a casual air: “Eighteen-year-old you, I don’t think I’ve ever seen her.” I was momentarily stunned. Eighteen. The image that flashed in my mind wasn’t carefree youth. It was the spinning fan in the classroom, under which I could never comprehend the problems. The lewd jokes of boys, the teacher’s disdain, my boyfriend’s indifference. And my cousin’s cruel, beautiful face. What Sebastian wanted to see was my cousin, his vibrant young fiancée. The pretty girl who occasionally did unkind things, but with a sweet smile, she could win everyone’s affection. I never liked dark chocolate. Sebastian once asked me why. I just said I’d eaten too much as a child and grew tired of it. The truth was, when I was ten, my cousin had poured a whole cup of hot cocoa over my head in the bathroom, sweetly laughing: “Didn’t you tell Mom and Dad you wanted chocolate? Can’t let it go to waste!” Her followers held my head down. That was my first taste of chocolate, scalding hot and melting. It was sickeningly sweet, choking my throat, making me unable to utter a sound. Only tears streamed down. Looking up, all I could see were the four walls and her dazzling, radiant smile. My eyes looked very much like hers, so much so that even the small mole at the corner of my eye was in the exact same spot. This was why I later succeeded in impersonating her. Sebastian, after the fact, most loved to kiss the redness at the corner of my eyes. He always said that even though I’d been lost for so many years, those eyes were still as beautiful as when he first saw them. For five years of marriage, I had never been exposed. I composed my emotions, took a deep breath: “Just eighteen, we have photos at home, don’t we? I’ll dig them out for you when we get back.” “But I want to see for myself,” the man’s gaze shifted from the miniature time machine back to me, his voice slightly rising at the end, as if genuinely curious, “A well-behaved, studious girl, sounds quite appealing.” 2 “Well-behaved, studious.” I smiled, watching Sebastian Thorne’s Maybach drive further and further away towards his company, then my expression completely crumbled. Every single word of that description was utterly unlike me. Turning around, I saw the A-University genius. His silhouette was even more imposing than before, dark, messy hair covering his prominent brow. Only that cold, detached aura remained unchanged. This machine was clearly aimed at me. I followed him to a secluded spot. The man’s tall frame completely blocked the last ray of light in the corner. “What exactly do you want?” I pushed him hard, but couldn’t budge him. Instead, he grabbed my wrist and pressed me against the wall. Kyle Gilbert’s gaze traced every inch of my features, his eyes churning with dark, unreadable emotions. After a long moment, he coldly uttered two words: “Get back together.” For a moment, I didn’t understand what he meant. He deigned to repeat it, his voice clear and cold: “I said, break up with him, and then we get back together. I can accept you standing by my side.” I found it absurd. “Kyle Gilbert, do you know what you’re saying?” “Of course,” he stared at me, emphasizing calmly, “Iris Hayes, only I know who the real you is. As long as you break up with him, I can guarantee that the time machine won’t expose your secret.” In the silent, breathless staring match, I abruptly pushed him away. “Kyle Gilbert, what do you take me for?” I glared at him, my breath slightly trembling, confirming each word: “Wasn’t it you who coldly said we should break up back then?” He pressed his lips together, silent, his dark eyes showing little emotion. That same indifferent expression, just like ten years ago. Back then, when my cousin and I tied for first place in the English competition, as the student council president, he gave the scholarship to my cousin. He said Olivia Thorne had just lost her parents, and her family was penniless; she needed that money for college. And my grades were so poor that I was destined not to stand at the same level as him. “Iris Hayes, neither I nor anyone else has an obligation to bear your useless and wasteful life.” “If your college entrance exam results come out and you don’t get into the same university as me, then we’re destined not to be on the same path.” At that time, I truly hated Kyle Gilbert, so much so that whenever I thought of it later, I wanted to loudly question him. If the definition of a partner was a like-minded fellow traveler, then why did he pursue me, the bad student? Seeing me bring up old matters, Kyle Gilbert’s eyes merely flickered, his voice still showing little fluctuation: “I just made the best choice at the time. That money, even if I gave it to you, would only be thrown into your mother’s exorbitant medical bills. What would be the point?” He was still so rational to the point of cruelty, stating his reasons so openly, as if certain I wouldn’t care. “Get back together with me, and all my money can be yours. I’ve achieved enough; I don’t need a partner to stand by me. I just need you.” The man’s gaze was fervent and dark. But I only found it amusing, so amusing that my heart didn’t even ache. I pushed his hand away, and through the haze of tears in my eyes, stubbornly told him: “Then you’re wrong, Kyle Gilbert. That scholarship, I cared about it deeply. I’ll never get over it.” I pushed him away and turned to leave. The man stared at my retreating back and suddenly spoke: “What if I gave you the justice you wanted?” People always romanticize the path not taken. Kyle Gilbert always believed that was the best choice back then. But since I found it so hard to accept, he wouldn’t mind letting that event replay, letting me get what I called “absolute fairness.” 3 Back at the mansion, Martha had already filled the bathtub with hot water. When Sebastian returned, I still had my head submerged in the now-cold water. The man’s distinctly veined hand gripped the back of my neck, pulling me up, a hint of amusement in his narrow eyes: “Trying to drown yourself?” I didn’t speak, so he asked, “Still mad?” I turned my face away awkwardly. “No.” “Then why are you so resistant? After all, aren’t you curious what kind of person you were before you lost your memory?” Seeing that I still wouldn’t utter a sound, he simply good-naturedly ruffled my head, casually reminiscing: “Speaking of which, the first time I saw you at nineteen, you also used to sulk like this often, willful and unrestrained. You insisted on fulfilling our family’s engagement and marrying me, and even wanted to follow me to study abroad. If it wasn’t for later—” He stopped there. If my cousin hadn’t fallen into the ocean on our engagement day. They would have already walked down the aisle. It wasn’t until a few years later, while he was on vacation on a small island, that he unexpectedly found me, disguised as his amnesiac cousin. The bathroom was filled with mist. The man’s palm gently rested on the back of my head, drawing us closer. His voice was low: “Do you know, Olivia, I can never quite connect the current you with the you before your memory loss.” “I’ve always wondered what kind of trauma made you such a careful and gentle person, so gentle that I can no longer read your heart.” He gently rubbed his forehead against mine, almost a whisper: “Was your former personality a pretense?” “Perhaps by understanding more of your past, I can know which version of you, the former or the present, loves me more?” The miniature time machine lying in his palm glowed red. My pupils constricted. I had no time to stop him. The next second, his long finger moved. Click. We both plunged back ten years. 4 How did that time machine end up in Sebastian’s hands? I gazed at my own delicate, childlike face in the mirror, closing my eyes in despair. Taking off my wedding ring, I walked out of the restroom. Two or three students in school uniforms chatted and joked in the hallway. I pursed my lips and walked through them, inevitably hearing the boys’ lewd whistles. “Iris, class is starting! Hurry!” The class president called to me from the door of Class 18. —Iris Hayes. My mind wavered. My mother gave birth to me in the lush midsummer. She hoped I would always be as vibrant as the grass and trees. How long had it been since I heard someone call my name? It seemed to have started when I decided to impersonate Olivia Thorne and marry into the affluent family. But life with Sebastian Thorne wasn’t actually too bad. He was assertive and unyielding at work, but at home, he was a lazy, aloof cat. On slow afternoons, he loved to curl up with me to watch movies, tend to the balcony plants, or nap on my lap. Sometimes, he was even willing to learn a dish I wanted to eat, step by step, following a tutorial. I truly couldn’t say anything bad about him. Except, the person he loved wasn’t me. Outside, the sunlight was blinding. I suppressed the slight bitterness in my heart and walked into the classroom. The oppressive, narrow space carried the sweaty smell of boys who had just finished gym class, and even the cicadas outside sounded particularly monotonous. This was my most hated eighteen. In English class, I wasn’t paying much attention, just propping my head up, annoyed, trying to figure out how to avoid meeting Sebastian. A few girls in the back row were whispering, discussing how the organizer of this English competition was a young, wealthy, repatriated entrepreneur who had even visited our school that morning. “I just passed by and glanced. He’s really an expat, so tall and handsome. The principal arranged for him to be given a tour by a school history guide, and as soon as he got the list, he picked Olivia Thorne’s name.” “Why not Iris? Didn’t those two tie for first in the English competition?” Someone snorted, disdainfully: “Olivia Thorne is so excellent, isn’t it logical to pick her? Unlike this one in our class, who attracts too much attention, she really thinks getting high scores qualifies her as the top student.” I slowly blinked, finally realizing the exact time period. It was precisely when Olivia and I had participated in the English competition, tied for first place, and were deciding who should get the scholarship. But in my memory, this entrepreneur never appeared. 5 In the VIP lounge. The principal was pouring tea for the distinguished man before him, apologizing with a smile: “Mr. Thorne, you didn’t notify us of your early arrival; our preparations are quite inadequate.” The man’s gaze was fixed on the tea leaves floating in his cup, as if deep in thought: “It’s nothing. I only came to see someone, to confirm something.” Soon after, the class president brought back news, saying that Olivia Thorne was resting in the dorm due to menstrual cramps and couldn’t serve as the school history guide. The principal apologized, asking, “Would you like to choose someone else?” Sebastian Thorne looked at the two high-scoring exam papers on the table, then reached out and flipped over the other one, noticing the boldly written name. He raised an eyebrow and asked, “Iris Hayes?” “Yes, Iris Hayes,” the principal quickly smiled. “Although she’s in the lower-achieving class, her English is excellent. She even tied for first place with Olivia Thorne in this competition.” “And according to other students, she’s been memorizing vocabulary in the hallway every morning at 5:30 AM for the past few months! A very diligent child; she won’t disappoint you.” The man pondered for a moment: “Two first-place ties, but why did only Olivia Thorne receive the scholarship?” “This… this… to be honest, we were just about to address that matter.” Seeing the principal hesitate, Sebastian lost interest in pressing further. After all, he wasn’t someone who particularly liked to meddle. Three days, for him, was still too short. Sebastian glanced at his wristwatch and suddenly asked his assistant, “What’s the date today?” “August 1st, Mr. Thorne. Is there something wrong?” Early August. Not quite the same time as his wife’s menstrual cycle. But she had fallen into the sea and suffered shock-induced amnesia. Sebastian didn’t dwell on such details. The man paused in thought, then instructed, “Go buy some brown sugar water and heat patches.” “You mean to say?” The principal asked hesitantly. The man tucked in his long legs, stood up, and politely nodded: “I won’t tour the school history museum. You have important matters to attend to, so I won’t disturb you.” “I’ll meet the scholarship recipient, and then I’ll leave.” 6 The bell for class dismissal rang, and I was hesitating whether or not to go find Kyle Gilbert. After all, just sitting around waiting wasn’t an option. He had promised me he wouldn’t expose my secret. Suddenly, the class president tapped me, asking me to go to the office. As soon as I entered, all the teachers and students were there—the principal, the homeroom teacher, the invigilator, the students who sat around me at the time, and Kyle Gilbert. The young man wore the student council president’s uniform, his shoulders broad, his legs long, as cold and aloof as I remembered. He merely glanced at me, then brought up the surveillance video from that day on his computer, displaying it for everyone. “Since Iris Hayes has an objection to this scholarship evaluation, we will re-evaluate it, with no favoritism towards anyone.” With just one look, I recognized him—Kyle Gilbert, also from ten years in the future. The fairness I had tearfully demanded years ago, he was now specifically giving me with a time machine. In the office, the young man’s voice was not loud. He looked at me, questioning me clearly, word by word: “After the listening portion of the recording ended, the invigilator had already announced to stop answering. Iris Hayes, why didn’t you put down your pen?” My breath caught; I froze. 7 Under everyone’s piercing gazes, I slowly, inch by inch, clenched my fingers: “I was checking if I had filled in the answer sheet incorrectly.” “And if you had found a mistake, what then?” Kyle Gilbert’s voice was flat, yet his words were almost accusatory, “Were you going to violate exam rules and make alterations?” “No,” I said. As soon as the words left my mouth, Kyle Gilbert expressionlessly tossed my answer sheet onto the table, pointing at the still-unwiped pencil marks, and said: “For the last question of the listening comprehension, you originally chose A, but the moment before the invigilator collected the papers, you glanced to the left front, then secretly changed it to B, just like Olivia Thorne.” “Iris Hayes, do you admit this point?” The bit of ignoble secret in my heart had nowhere to hide under the bright, fervent sunlight outside the window. I remained silent, unwilling to speak. Kyle Gilbert asked me one last time, his gaze scrutinizing: “Yes, or no.” In the quiet, spacious office, my gaze was fixed on the floor, and I painstakingly uttered: “No.” In the face of such evidence, any defense seemed pale. But I still slowly and stubbornly spoke: “I didn’t peek at Olivia’s paper.” “I was just looking at the clock. The exam room clock was half a minute fast, and I was checking if there was still time to make changes.” “Looking at the clock? Iris Hayes, how much credibility do you think that excuse has?” Kyle Gilbert sneered, pressing closer, as if he wouldn’t stop until this accusation was pinned on me. Even the principal, at this moment, sternly spoke: “Malice will only harm yourself in the end, Iris Hayes. I hope you’ll be honest.” “I didn’t, the exam room clock was half a minute fast, you’re being unfair!” My voice was loud, my eyes red-rimmed, as if I wanted to vent all the years of indignation. Again, the word “fairness.” Kyle Gilbert beside me impatiently closed his eyes. But where in the world is there absolute fairness? “Then is that half-minute you overran fair to Olivia Thorne? And fair to the other students? The surveillance now shows you cheated in violation of regulations. Do you want to tell me what ‘fairness’ even means?” The young man’s questions came one after another, so sharp they left me speechless. I stared at him blankly, my eyes slowly welling up. I suddenly found I couldn’t understand him anymore. “Didn’t you say it, Kyle Gilbert?” My voice was very soft, stubbornly confirming this with him. “Our school clock was half a minute fast.” The atmosphere dropped to zero. The young man’s thin lips gradually tightened into a cold, flat line. The homeroom teacher hesitantly spoke: “Didn’t Kyle already have someone adjust that clock?” The silent air was broken by that sentence. My face went pale, my body rigid. I couldn’t utter another word. The fairness I had desperately pursued suddenly seemed ridiculous at this moment. Just then, a student suddenly ran in, breathless. “Principal, Mr. Thorne is back. He said he wants to see you again.”

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After Luna died, Damon hated me for four years. So, when I was reborn back to the night of the fire, I deliberately stepped deeper into the choking smoke, calling out to my husband, the Special Operations Fire Captain: “Don’t look for me. Save Luna first.” In my previous life, Luna, my best friend, and I were trapped on different floors of the towering inferno. As the blaze raged, Damon only had time to save one person. He rushed to me. I was carried out of the burning building, unharmed, but Luna was incinerated alive on the twenty-third floor. Damon, once an elite firefighter, developed pyrophobia, a crippling fear of fire, and could never again step into a burning building. Then, on New Year’s Eve, he smiled as he tied a crimson string bracelet around my wrist. I thought he had finally moved past it, but the string had been soaked in an accelerant. As the fireworks ignited my wrist, I asked him why. Damon only stared at the flames licking my skin, his eyes reflecting a cold, dead light. “Luna burned to death. Why do you get to live, completely untouched?” I opened my eyes again, back to the moment the fire alarm blared. 1 “Damon! Trapped civilians on the seventeenth and twenty-third floors! The fire is spreading upwards!” The dispatcher’s voice crackled, hoarse with urgency through the walkie-talkie. Thick smoke billowed, turning the entire high-rise into a dying beast, groaning with the metallic shriek of twisting steel. Damon turned back to look at me, his eyes bloodshot. I stood at the end of a corridor on the seventeenth floor, behind me a fire door already scorched through. In the last life, he hadn’t said a word. He’d just charged forward, slung me over his shoulder, and carried me out. Luna, on the twenty-third floor, had screamed for forty-seven minutes, unanswered. The autopsy report later read: “Ninety percent full-body burns, found in a curled, self-protective posture.” Damon hadn’t spoken for three days after reading that report. From then on, he never looked me in the eye again. This time, I wouldn’t let him make that choice. “Damon, go to the twenty-third floor first. Save Luna.” He froze. “I’m fine. This floor still has a buffer zone. I can hold on.” “You…” “That’s an order.” I offered him a small, wry smile. “Captain’s wife’s orders – still good?” Damon’s Adam’s apple bobbed. He wanted to say something, but another urgent call came over the radio. “Twenty-third floor civilian in distress, suspected heavy smoke inhalation!” Damon clenched his jaw, then finally turned and sprinted towards the emergency stairwell. The moment his silhouette vanished into the smoke, I took two steps back. The floorboards beneath my feet were already soft and scalding. Leaning against the wall, I doused my wet towel with more water, clamped it over my mouth and nose, and crouched down. Last time, I’d emerged without a scratch. This time, I likely wouldn’t be so lucky. It didn’t matter. The crimson string burning through my wrist in the last life had hurt far more than this. The smoke grew thicker, my consciousness blurring. The last voice I heard wasn’t Damon’s. It was an unfamiliar, raspy male voice. “Seventeenth floor, trapped civilian found! Female, disoriented, extensive burns to face and arms!” Someone lifted me from the floor. The rough fabric of a protective suit brushed against my face. Dazedly, I opened my eyes and saw a face mostly obscured by a mask. Not Damon. The man looked down at me, his voice steady. “Don’t move. I’ll get you out.” I lost consciousness amidst violent jolts. When I woke again, I was on an emergency stretcher. An oxygen mask covered my mouth and nose, and a tearing pain flared in my right arm. I turned my head and saw another stretcher nearby. Luna lay on it, only faint smudges of smoke on her face. She was alive. Damon stood by her stretcher, one hand still gripping her wrist, as if checking her pulse. I couldn’t clearly see his expression, but his back was to me. Just like in the last life. No, in the last life, his back had been to Luna’s corpse. Suddenly, the burns on my arm didn’t hurt so much anymore. The firefighter who’d rescued me removed his mask and knelt by my stretcher, filling out an injury report. His face was mostly smudged with ash, revealing only his eyes. “Name?” he asked. “Audrey.” He paused his pen, glanced towards Damon, then back at me. Without a word, he resumed writing. His name tag read “Lucas.” The lights in the ICU were blindingly white. I spent eleven days in the burn unit, undergoing two skin graft surgeries on my right arm and back. Damon visited three times. The first time was to sign off on the surgery; his hand trembled as he wrote his name. The second time, he dropped off a bag of clean clothes, leaving them on the nightstand before walking out. The third was the day my bandages were removed. He stood at the doorway of my room, his gaze lingering on the winding scars on my arm. His lips moved, but he ultimately only managed to say, “I’m stepping out to take a call.” He never came back. Luna, on the other hand, was a frequent visitor. She was discharged on the third day and came to see me daily thereafter, carrying flowers and fruit, her eyes red-rimmed. “Audrey, I’m so sorry, it’s all because of me…” “You’re so hurt, I feel incredibly guilty…” “Did Damon… did he only save me because you told him to?” As she spoke, her tears fell in perfectly spaced drops. I used to think Luna’s crying was beautiful. Now, looking at it, each tear seemed precisely measured. “It’s okay. We’re sisters. Your safety is what matters,” I said. She lunged to hug me, directly pressing against the fresh skin graft on my back. I gasped in pain. She immediately pulled back, her face a picture of alarm. “Oh my goodness, I forgot about your back!” But the speed with which she withdrew her hand was half a second faster than her apology. This was a detail I wouldn’t have noticed in my last life. This time, I saw it clearly. That afternoon, Damon came to pick up Luna. He said he was “passing by,” but the hospital was in the east of the city, our home in the west, and the fire station in the north. Three different directions, not a single one “on the way.” As Luna left, she glanced back at me, then naturally slipped her hand onto Damon’s forearm. “Captain Reid, I’ve been having terrible nightmares lately, dreaming of the fire…” Damon didn’t shake her off. He turned his head slightly to look at her, saying, “It’ll get better. Try to rest.” He had never spoken to me in that tone. I looked down at my bandaged arm, and a small smile touched my lips. Just then, Lucas came in for a follow-up. He pushed the door open and paused when he saw me smiling alone at the ceiling. “Any discomfort from the wound?” “No.” He flipped through my medical chart at the foot of the bed, frowning slightly. “There’s a risk of infection in the grafted area. Dressing changes cannot be missed these next few days.” “I know.” “Your husband?” “Busy.” Lucas didn’t ask further, putting down the chart and turning to leave. He stopped at the doorway. “Family signature is required. If he’s busy, you can find me for the next dressing change.” “You’re a firefighter, not a doctor.” “But I’m the one who carried you out of the seventeenth floor.” He didn’t turn back. “See things through.” The door closed. Silence returned to the room. I slowly tightened my grip on the bedsheet. That night, after the nurse’s rounds, I opened my phone and found a post on social media. Luna had just posted it. The accompanying picture was a bouquet of white roses, geotagged to this hospital. The caption read: “After surviving the ordeal, grateful for everyone who fought to pull me through.” The first comment below was a like from Damon. The second was from an unfamiliar account, leaving a message: “Luna, you’re so brave.” Luna replied with a hugging emoji. I put my phone face down on the bed and closed my eyes. Good. The drama of this life was unfolding even faster than the last. On the day of my discharge, Damon came to pick me up. The car was quiet; he didn’t say a word the entire drive. It wasn’t until the car pulled into the neighborhood parking garage that he spoke, his voice muffled. “Why did you tell me to save her first?” My hand, clutching my discharge bag, paused. “Because she was on the twenty-third floor, six levels higher than me, and in greater danger.” “But you almost died in there.” I looked at his profile, unable to tell if his words held concern or accusation. “But she lived, didn’t she?” I pushed open the car door. “And you didn’t become a broken firefighter.” He whipped his head around to look at me, his gaze complex. I didn’t explain, taking my things and heading upstairs on my own. In the days that followed, I used my recovery as an excuse to cut back on all social engagements. But Luna wouldn’t leave me in peace. She came to the house two or three times a week, bringing soup and dishes, portraying herself as the most dedicated best friend in the world. Each visit, she would subtly bring up Damon. “Audrey, Damon’s under so much pressure lately. You should pay more attention to him.” “I heard he was criticized by the higher-ups because of the fire. There’s an investigation into the collapse of the fire escape.” “When he saved me that day, he carried me down four flights of stairs… he truly fought so hard.” Every one of her sentences emphasized the same thing: Damon had fought for her life. I listened with a smile, pouring her a cup of tea. That night, I found Damon’s work phone. He never took this phone on missions, and the password was still our wedding anniversary. Luna was pinned at the top of his messages. The most recent chat history began the day after the fire. Luna: “Captain Reid, I had nightmares again tonight. I dreamt I was trapped in the fire, unable to escape.” Damon: “Don’t be scared. That fire is out.” Luna: “But every time I close my eyes, I see the flames. I’m so afraid.” Damon: “Would you like me to recommend a therapist?” Luna: “No, just talking to you makes me feel better. You’re the one who saved me. Hearing your voice makes me feel safe.” I scrolled down, message by message. The conversations grew longer, more frequent. They talked about nightmares, childhood, work, and life. The patience and tenderness Damon displayed in these messages were something I had never witnessed from him. I scrolled to the latest message. It was a voice note from Luna. I tapped it. Her voice was soft, gentle, with a hint of deliberate tremor. “Captain Reid, Audrey is truly so brave. She told you to save me first… But sometimes I wonder, if you had gone to the seventeenth floor first that day, maybe she wouldn’t have been hurt?” Damon replied with four words: “Don’t overthink it.” But he didn’t say, “I should have saved her first.” I turned off my phone and put it back where I found it. The next day, I invited Luna for coffee. I chose a window seat, where the sunlight perfectly illuminated her face. She wore light makeup, her complexion healthy, not at all like someone tormented by nightmares. Halfway through our conversation, she took a call and walked to the entrance. Through the glass, I couldn’t hear what she was saying, but when she returned after hanging up, her expression seemed off. I pretended not to notice, stirring my coffee. She sat down, silent for a few seconds. Then, she looked up and spoke in a tone I had never heard from her before. “Audrey, you don’t have to work so hard.” “What do you mean?” “The situation between you and Damon… you don’t have to force it.” She took my hand, her fingertips cool. “You deserve better.” The words sounded like concern. But the fleeting something in her eyes wasn’t. I lightly patted her palm. “Thank you, Luna.” When I got home, I made a call. “Is this the Fire Department Headquarters? I’d like to obtain the accident investigation report for last month’s commercial building fire.” Lucas helped me get the report. He didn’t ask why I wanted to see it, simply handed me a manila envelope. “Are you sure you want to look?” “Yes.” “Some things, once seen, you can’t unsee.” I met his gaze. His expression was calm, but as he spoke, his eyes lingered on my face for a second, as if to confirm I was ready. I tore open the envelope and flipped to the fire cause analysis page. Origin: Twenty-third floor, unit 2307, east storage room. Cause: Initially determined to be a short circuit from aging electrical wiring. I continued reading. In the on-site investigation remarks, there was a handwritten line: “Trace amounts of unusual chemical residue detected in unit 2307 storage room; components await further analysis.” My finger stopped on that line. Unit 2307. That was next to the conference room where Luna had her meeting that night. I kept flipping and found the attached chemical analysis report. Residue components: High-concentration isopropyl alcohol mixed with paraffin-based accelerant. This was not something aging electrical wiring would produce. This was human-made. A sudden image flashed in my mind. New Year’s Eve, last life. When Damon tied the crimson string on me, there was a faint, sweet smell in the air. I’d thought it was the scent of fireworks. Now, I realized it was the distinctive smell of paraffin-based accelerant when heated. I closed my eyes, forcing myself to calm down. A thought formed, absurd and terrifying, yet utterly clear. That crimson string in the last life wasn’t Damon’s own preparation. A week before New Year’s, I’d seen an unmarked small package in the courier locker outside our home. When Damon opened it, I’d glimpsed it – a red braided string bracelet with an attached card. I hadn’t paid attention to the handwriting on the card then. But now, recalling it, it was Luna’s handwriting. Rounded, with a little flourish on the tails of the letters. I recognized it. She used that same script every time she wrote me a birthday card in college. The crimson string was sent by Luna. The accelerant was soaked by Luna. And that fire, the one that gave Damon pyrophobia, the one that made him hate me for four years— It was also started by Luna. I snapped my eyes open. The chemical analysis report before me contained cold, precise data. The same formula as the crimson string that had burned through my wrist in the last life. The sunlight outside was blinding. I slowly closed the report, my fingertips tracing the paper. No trembling. In the last life, Damon asked me, “Why do you get to live, completely untouched?” Wrong. From beginning to end, the one who wanted me dead wasn’t him. He was merely a sharpened blade. And the one who handed him the blade was Luna, the woman I’d called my best friend for twelve years. I put the report back into the envelope and took out my phone. Scrolling through my contacts to Luna’s name, the profile picture was an old photo of us from college. She had her arm around my shoulder, smiling brightly. I stared at that smiling face for a long time. Then I exited the contacts and opened a new memo. The title read: “Evidence Chain.” I didn’t tip my hand. For the next two weeks, I acted more subdued, more silent than before. In front of Damon, I was a wife self-conscious about her scars. In front of Luna, I was a poor soul gradually losing faith in her marriage. They both bought it. Because that’s exactly what they expected to see. Wednesday afternoon, I placed a divorce agreement on the dining table. When Damon came home and saw it, his car keys dropped to the floor. “What does this mean?” “It means exactly what it says.” I leaned against the kitchen doorway, my voice flat. “Just sign it.” He picked up the keys and walked over. “Audrey, can you please not be like this?” “I’m not.” “Then tell me what’s wrong?” I looked at him, and a sudden urge to laugh welled up. I’d asked him the same question in my last life. He’d answered me with a crimson string soaked in accelerant. “Damon, have you ever considered something?” I said. “After that fire, you saved Luna, but I was disfigured. Did you secretly feel a sense of relief?” “What are you talking about?!” “I’m not talking nonsense.” I unbuttoned my cuff, revealing the still-healing scar on my arm. “Every time you see this, you look away.” His gaze indeed shifted. Even if it was subconscious, he didn’t realize it himself. “I don’t want to make things difficult for you anymore.” I pulled my sleeve back down. “I haven’t asked for anything in the agreement that isn’t mine. Just sign it.” I turned and started towards the bedroom. He suddenly grabbed my wrist from behind. My right wrist. The place where the crimson string had burned in my last life. My entire body stiffened as if electrocuted. That memory of pain was too deep, so deep that even across a lifetime, it made me instinctively tremble. Damon felt my trembling and let go. “Audrey…” “Don’t touch there.” My voice was hoarser than I expected. “You can’t touch there.” He didn’t understand why I reacted so strongly to my wrist—there were no burns there. But he didn’t know what happened in the last life. He wouldn’t know in this one. I closed the bedroom door, leaned against it, and slid to the floor. It took a long time to steady my breathing. My phone lit up. Luna’s message. “Audrey, how have you been lately? Captain Reid said you’re not doing well, I’m so worried.” I stared at the screen. Damon had told her about our impending divorce. How interesting. Having an argument with his wife, his first confidante was another woman. It was just like that in the last life. Step by step, she had transformed herself into an indispensable part of his life. And I, from wife, became enemy. I replied: “I’m fine, just the wound hurts a bit, being dramatic.” Luna instantly replied: “You’re not dramatic at all! You suffered such a terrible injury, it’s normal to have emotions. How about I come over and keep you company soon?” I typed: “Sounds good, I actually have some things I want to talk to you about.” After sending that message, I opened my memo. Seven items were already listed under “Evidence Chain.” But it wasn’t enough. I needed concrete proof. Ironclad evidence that would leave her no room to maneuver. I started digging into Luna’s past. It was easier than I expected. Because she never imagined anyone would investigate.

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After my husband died, I saw the comments: [The male lead faked his death to test the second female lead.] [The second female lead will soon be unable to stand the loneliness and cheat, and the male lead will be the female lead’s, darling!] [I can’t wait to see the second female lead outside, drenched in rain, begging the male lead not to leave her, only to discover the female lead inside, playfully begging him to stop kissing her. So satisfying!] I was utterly wronged and swore I would never waver. But on the day of the funeral, my idol appeared. He held an umbrella for me, his voice a low murmur: ” Scarlett, my brother is gone, but you still have me.” Wait, is this a test? 1. I went to a fortune teller. The fortune teller said, “You are destined for two husbands. This current one is not the one you truly love.” “Nonsense!” I snapped, furious. A shadow enveloped me from behind. A long, slender, bony hand reached over and snatched the fortune stick from my grasp. I turned, meeting John’s eyes. “Darling, don’t believe it.” He smiled ever so faintly, absently turning the fortune stick in his fingers. His face was devoid of expression. I knew he didn’t care. His marriage to me was merely a compromise. Many pursued him; given his stature, he could find someone better if he left me. I was simply the one who pursued him the longest. If he couldn’t marry the one he loved most, he’d marry the one who loved him most. I just didn’t expect him to settle the score with me in bed that night. There was none of his usual tenderness. His advances were fierce, utterly beastly. I knew that arrogant expression all too well. He didn’t love me all that much, but I was only allowed to love him. “John,” I softened, “I only love you.” I swore repeatedly that I would love him for as long as he lived. He asked, “What if I die?” I paused, “…I’d still love you.” He caught the few seconds of hesitation in my voice. One eyebrow arched. My foot, which had been idly kicking his chest, instinctively recoiled, but he seized my ankle tightly. He said, “Scarlett, if I die, you can only love me.” Deep in the night, John, clad only in trousers, leaned against the window sill, legs crossed, a cigarette dangling from his lips as he answered his phone. “The news of your faked death will be out tomorrow.” The person on the other end gave him instructions: “You’ll stay on the island for six months. Once the mole here is caught, you can return.” John grunted vaguely. The person asked again, “Are you really not going to tell your wife you’re faking your death?” John wasn’t telling me, both for work and to make a gamble. When John was seven, his mother ran off with another man, taking his younger brother but leaving him behind. He loathed betrayal. He wanted to bet on whether I would truly remain faithful, only then would he fully accept me. “Did you find anything?” he asked the person on the other end. “Followed her for half a month,” the person said. “Your wife has no other men.” “Always from home to work and back, she’s a steady woman.” “Honestly, everyone knows she loves you most,” the person couldn’t resist quipping. “John, are you really worried she’ll go looking for someone else if she thinks you’re dead?” “Let her, if she wants to.” He scoffed, dismissing it. “She’s not the only one who wanted to marry me.” John hung up, unconsciously feeling the fortune stick in his pocket. He clenched it in his palm, staring for a few seconds. He ruffled his hair in annoyance, then slightly tilted his head to glance at me, sleeping soundly in the room. With a backhand, he tossed it into the trash can. The next day was our anniversary. I waited for him at home all day, only to receive news of his death. I listened numbly as people around me spoke of an incident during a mission. I returned home alone, seeing his black coat, worn just last night, draped over the sofa. I picked it up, intending to wash it, but then realized there was no longer any need. The realization brought with it a suffocating heartache that spread from my icy neck to my fingertips. I clutched his coat, unable to recover for a long time. Until the day of the funeral. I saw the scrolling text: [Here it comes, here it comes! The male lead faked his death to test the second female lead.] [The second female lead will soon be unable to stand the loneliness and cheat, and the male lead will be the female lead’s, darling!] [The stupid second female lead can’t resist temptation, thinking she’s found a treasure, but when the male lead returns, she’ll regret it terribly.] [The female lead is completely the male lead’s ideal type. They’ll fall in love on the island over time. The male lead is stubborn but can’t resist!] [The second female lead fawned for so many years, and the female lead gets everything just by standing there!] [I can’t wait to see the second female lead outside, drenched in rain, begging the male lead not to leave her, only to discover the female lead inside, playfully begging him to stop kissing her. So satisfying!] I looked at the comments, finding them ridiculous and deeply unfair. So, I was the second female lead. No wonder no matter how good I was to John, I could never warm him up. But I couldn’t accept that I would cheat! And the comments even said I cheated at the funeral. God as my witness. I was a respectable, honest woman; how could I possibly betray my husband before his memorial week was even over?! The most infuriating part was that, looking around, no one at the funeral was as handsome as John! We simps only simp because we’re obsessed with good looks! [It’s hilarious to think that the second female lead will wake up every morning to that ugly man’s face.] [No wonder she’s unwilling, but what good is it? The hot guy is the female lead’s.] [Wait, who’s that handsome man?] [Oh my god, what long legs!] I looked up. Amidst the bowing mourners, through the swirling incense smoke, a resolute, handsome face stood out. After offering three sticks of incense, the crowd parted. A fine mist of rain fell, and he approached me, holding a black umbrella. He stood before me, his voice a low murmur: “Scarlett.” “My brother is gone, but you still have me.” A few steps behind him hung his brother’s newly placed black-and-white portrait. 2. Felix. My idol. The singer I had loved for ten years. In high school, I used to secretly listen to his songs under the covers of my dorm bed to fall asleep. In my most sacrilegious dreams, I dared not even imagine his face. Now, he was less than half a meter from me. “This is John’s younger brother.” Someone beside me whispered that he was the brother John’s mother had taken away, the brother John despised most. That’s why, in all our years of marriage, I had never met him. I was Felix’s sister-in-law. … In a fleeting few seconds, my mind raced with thoughts like: Even though I know my idol will eventually date, if he actually does, I’ll want to die, hating any sister-in-law flaunting herself in front of me. What? You say I’m the sister-in-law? Heh heh, I’m the sister-in-law. No, no, not that kind of sister-in-law. Dammit. I was flustered and nervous, my throat tightening as I faced my idol’s close-up face, losing my voice entirely. But I couldn’t let the moment drop. I had to greet him, I had to— “A-quack.” My constricted throat ultimately produced a duck-like squawk. So embarrassing. I wanted to faint on the spot. But I was just the second female lead, and my body was robust. Ten minutes later, I found an undisturbed, dim corner in the stairwell to wallow in self-pity. “Have you seen Scarlett? Felix is looking for her.” Outside, two of John’s relatives passed by, their voices growing closer. “Hey, I heard John didn’t leave Scarlett a penny?” “That’s right, a man’s money is where his heart is. That gold-digger ended up with nothing.” “Don’t say that, I think Scarlett is a good, honest girl too. Her eyes are all red from crying.” The footsteps faded. The comments on screen still flashed scenes from the island: [Ahhh, the male and female leads met!] [What does it mean that the male lead keeps staring at the female lead?] [The male lead’s dog likes the female lead. Dogs are more honest than people!] I took a deep breath, twisted the doorknob, and prepared to go home. The moment I opened the door, a force pulled me back. The person let go and looked down at me. “Found you.” In the narrow stairwell, the door was half-open, pushed by the wind, letting in only a small corner of light. “Are you hiding from me?” Felix’s face was obscured in the darkness, his voice growing clearer. “Do you hate me, like my brother does?” I took half a step back and shook my head. “I don’t hate you.” Heaven knows I found it hard to breathe just looking at his face. But then, he was even taller than his brother, completely blocking me, leaving me nowhere to hide. He asked, “Then… do you like me?” Someone passed by, and the door was pushed open a bit further by the airflow. I instinctively recoiled deeper inside. He was amused by my action, raising a hand to block the draft for me. When the person outside left, light streamed back in, and I saw his dark, warm eyes. “Do you remember me?” he asked. “We were in the same class in freshman year of high school.” Felix’s name permeated my entire school life. He transferred schools and debuted in his sophomore year of high school. He became famous overnight, winning countless awards. The year of the college entrance exam, I struggled to get into a regular university. On the first day of orientation, my roommate lay in bed talking about her favorite singer named Felix. Later, after graduating college, my roommate had stopped following celebrities, but I was still listening to his music. Tickets to Felix’s concerts sold out in seconds. The one time I finally managed to snatch a ticket, I was called back to the office for urgent overtime. I couldn’t help but cry at my desk. I thought, I’m not sad because I can’t go. It’s because in that moment, I clearly realized that he and I lived in two different worlds. I might never meet him in this lifetime. “I remember.” I looked up at him. “It’s quite a coincidence. I didn’t expect you to remember me, and even less that we’d become relatives.” I tried to keep my voice from trembling. “Who would have thought I’d see you again, sitting at the same table at my husband’s funeral?” He heard me call his brother my husband, saw my red-rimmed eyes. He remembered this was his brother’s funeral. “Oh.” He turned sideways, creating a bit of distance between us. Fine raindrops, mixed with a diagonal wind, slapped against the door, chilling my exposed forearms. He had briefly touched me there just moments ago. “My brother was quite unfair.” He didn’t look at me. “How could he do that to you?” Felix had been famous for years, low-key, without scandals, and always maintained a good reputation. Even years later, at a class reunion, someone would say, “I was being harassed by some guys from outside school, and Felix, who I’d barely spoken to, silently called the police and helped fight them off.” “He’s truly a good person.” I thought, Felix must be a kind-hearted person. That’s why, with that face that made my imagination run wild, he looked at me with an earnest, gentle expression and asked: “What do you want?” “As my brother’s family, I will compensate you.” I was truly terrible. In that moment, I clearly realized I was a villainous second female lead. My mind was filled with: If he slept with me, would it be like sleeping with a fan? Would it affect his career? Maybe not. Control yourself! I lowered my head and said, “No, thank you.” But then, his deep voice asked again, “Are you really sure?” “No, thanks. You don’t owe me anything.” “Oh.” Tree shadows swayed outside the window, and the door was fully blown open by the wind. Someone outside the stairwell was looking for me. I turned to leave. He watched me go, then leisurely said, “Scarlett.” “Then can I ask for some compensation?” Confused, I turned to look at him. “What?” “Marry me.” He said, “I’ll take care of you on his behalf.” 3. Felix and I returned to the wake one after the other. People around us ate, some glancing my way, continuing their previous conversation. “Do you think John will regret it?” “Regret what?” “If he’d known life was so short, he should have married someone he truly loved, not the one in front of him.” Someone subtly hinted for him to stop, but couldn’t resist scrutinizing my expression. [The second female lead doesn’t know yet, does she? The female lead just ignored the male lead slightly, and he’s already getting uncomfortable.] [The second female lead is currently scouting for an affair partner. Wonder which ugly guy she’ll pick.] [When the male lead returns, won’t he be furious comparing them?] [Who told her to cheat?] The comments scrolled, and people around me whispered. I should have been devastated. But now, staring at John’s portrait on the wall, I had only one thought: Marry my idol? Is this a test? Oh. Oh. Oh. It had to be this way. I couldn’t help it. I raised my hands to my face and began to cry. The more I cried, the more my mouth twitched at the corners. What else could I do? I was merely a morally corrupt second female lead, incapable of resisting temptation. Darling, you’re gone. And my wish came true. The people who had been whispering saw how pitifully I cried and couldn’t bear to mock me further. In the corner, the person who had called John that night watched my reaction and sighed. He took out his phone and sent a message to an unknown number: “John, don’t play too hard.” “Scarlett loves you so much; she almost cried herself speechless at the funeral today.” A few seconds later, the reply came: “Got it.” “I’ll just sweet-talk her when I get back.” 4. Six months later, John was preparing to return. The mole was dealt with. Everyone knew he wasn’t dead. But he waited all night and received no call from me. “Your wife must be mad, she cried so much at the funeral.” His brother urged him to call me. But he wouldn’t. He was accustomed to me being the one to give in. “Spoiled her too much. She can call or not.” However, he didn’t expect me not to meet him at the airport. I used to go, even in the middle of the night. He waited for half an hour at the airport, watching the comings and goings, but I wasn’t there. He clutched the gift he bought for me, an inexplicable irritation bubbling up. “Home.” The driver asked, “Which home?” John raised an eyebrow. “Wherever my wife is, that’s where I’m going.” The driver paused, then hesitantly said, “Madam has already moved out.” He frowned. “Moved where?” The driver gave an address. Five minutes of dead silence in the car. John let out a soft chuckle. He leaned back casually in the seat, his eyes cold, dark, and subtly mocking, but the amusement didn’t reach them. “Why are you giving me Felix’s address?” The driver blinked, reminding him: “You told us to kick Madam out. She had nowhere to go.” John’s eyes darkened slightly. He knew it was indeed too much to leave me no money and no house. But he insisted on using this to ward off anyone who might try to approach me during those six months. How could an ordinary woman like me, without money, attract anyone to sleep with a widow? The comments exploded with excitement: [Serves the second female lead right! I’ve been annoyed at her spending the male lead’s money for ages!] [Never mind the second female lead, what’s up with the male lead? What happened to falling in love over time?] [On the island, the female lead almost fell for the male lead’s dog and still couldn’t get a word in with the male lead.] [Instead, the male lead kept staring at the female lead, actually thinking she was trying to steal his dog.] [But the male lead is definitely not used to the female lead ignoring him.] [That’s his dog that’s not used to it. The female lead stopped bringing food, so the dog has to eat the male lead’s awful cooking. The male lead has no doubt about his own culinary skills, only that the female lead wants to steal his dog.] [On the island, besides protecting his dog from the female lead, the male lead was just flipping through the calendar every day, waiting to see his wife. He finally came back, and his wife ran off with someone else.] [There’s still hope! The male lead found out the second female lead cheated, so the female lead, darling, has a chance!] The luxury car pulled into Felix’s garage, and John went upstairs. The door was ajar; he slipped in sideways. This feeling of sneaking around made him inexplicably annoyed. He was here to find his wife. But the thought of catching her cheating plagued him, doubling his irritation. The master bedroom was empty. As he expected, Felix himself hadn’t even lived in this apartment. My suitcase was in the guest bedroom. He looked up and saw a brand-new men’s shirt on the table, with a half-written greeting card beside it: “Happy Anniversary, John—” He remembered that day he decided to trick me, so he hadn’t received an anniversary gift. But this shirt looked like something Felix would wear. Too youthful a style. He had always been dismissive of the things I gave him, mocking my taste, calling them cheap junk. But when I pushed open the guest room door, I saw that “junk” on him. John leaned against the window, and the first thing he asked me was, “Why didn’t you come to pick me up?” He and Felix did resemble each other, but their temperaments were strikingly different. When I first met John on our blind date, I instantly fell for him. But now, that face didn’t attract me as much anymore. I dodged his hand. He froze. Before, whenever he returned from a mission, I would always excitedly rush to hug him, and he would always wear a disgusted expression. Now I was avoiding him. “Mad?” “Didn’t I come back?” I pulled my hand away. “Give me back the shirt.” He wouldn’t let me dodge, gripping my wrist tightly, his tone turning cold. “That’s enough.” I said, “It’s not for you. I bought it for someone else.” The room was silent for a moment. He gave a soft chuckle, but his eyes were mixed with frost. “Who did you buy it for?” “I’ve only been dead for half a year, and you’re already buying clothes for other men?” I said, “When you died, I became single. I wanted to buy it the day of the funeral.” His mouth twisted. “You didn’t even wait for the memorial week. You’re something else.” John turned to leave. “Hey—” He paused, then heard me say, “My clothes.” His face darkened further, and he laughed, infuriated. He slowly undressed, revealing his sculpted abs. I turned my face away. He seized my hand, and the more I struggled, the tighter he held, forcibly pressing my hand against his firm muscles. “Do you touch others like this too?” With that, he disgustedly flung my hand away. “You sicken me.” He smiled like a bastard: “I’m incredibly glad that no matter how long you tried, you never made me fall in love with you.” “With your terrible taste, just like you, who’d want it?” He threw the changed clothes at me and slammed the door as he left. After that day, John never contacted me again. I heard he threw several parties to celebrate getting rid of me. Before, I used to try to control him; his popularity made me insecure. But the more I tried, the more he went out. He never comforted me when I was jealous. He even deliberately played mean, half-joking, half-serious, saying he’d seen too many women prettier than me, that I didn’t even rank with him. “Can you control me? Jealousy is useless.” Good thing, I wasn’t trying to control him anymore. John, who rarely posted on social media, posted a photo of himself eating at home, a party of over a dozen people. The girl holding a small dog behind him was exceptionally pretty. [Tears in my eyes, the female lead finally got into a group photo.] [Finally, the second female lead gets to see a photo of the male and female leads. Regret it now!] [Does anyone know who the second female lead cheated with? Is he so ugly he doesn’t even have a name, haha?] [Second female lead, just disappear. Does she think the male lead will still look back?] A few days later, I ran into John at a private club. He was in the private room next door. Amidst the clinking glasses, I avoided his gaze, and he didn’t spare me a single glance either. Men, when they fall out of love, truly move on quickly. That’s for the best. I just didn’t expect to run into him again at the restroom entrance. He leaned against the wall, dressed in a black silk shirt, a trench coat draped over his arm, his expression cool and nonchalant. Like he was waiting for a lady. He watched me go in, saying nothing. When I came out, he was still standing there. I walked straight past him. He let out a faint scoff. A long, slender hand gripped the back of my neck, pulling me back with a sudden force. Behind me was another dark, empty private room. He ignored my struggles, slamming the door shut with a “thud” that made me jump. He lowered his head, pressing against me with extreme aggression, grinding his lips against mine. I dodged, he pursued. The more I struggled, the more he recklessly tried to mold me into his body. His Adam’s apple bobbed; he had been holding back for a long time. There was a sense that he wanted to suffocate me, then suffocate himself. This was the real him, a total jerk. Blood seeped from his lips, his breathing was ragged, the corners of his eyes flushed. He raised a hand to wipe my mouth. His voice was low, hoarse, and chilling: “I forgive you for cheating.” “Tell me, who is that shameless mistress?” I glared at him. “He’s not a mistress.” John froze slightly; he was familiar with this expression of mine. It was the expression I used to instinctively protect him in front of outsiders. It belonged only to him. Now, he was the outsider. John’s heart gave a jolt, and he laughed, infuriated: “Is he worth defending so fiercely?” “Did my kiss feel better, or his?” Although I had never kissed Felix, I answered without hesitation: “His!” John’s face instantly became cold and sharp. “Don’t mention him!” I sneered, “You’re the one who asked.” Before I could finish, he grabbed my jaw and kissed me again. I slapped him hard. He was stunned. He knew I loved his face most. “You’re my wife,” his voice held an unmistakable note of grievance. “He seduced you, what else is he if not a mistress?” “I’m not your wife anymore. I’ve remarried.” I said, word by word, “You’re the one acting like a mistress.”

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I’m an embalmer at the Southwood Mortuary, gifted with a peculiar sensitivity—I can hear the final words of the departed. When an unidentified young woman’s desperate cry, “Nathaniel Carr… help me… don’t kill me!” pierced my ears, a chill seized me. It was the exact name of my sister’s fiancé, whom she had just brought home yesterday. My family branded me a jealous lunatic, smashing teacups to silence me. As the wedding bells chimed, my sister smiled on the altar, and the groom approached me, a wine glass in hand, his gaze behind his spectacles like a viper’s: “I hear… you can speak with the dead?” 1. I am an embalmer at the Southwood Mortuary. For three years in this profession, constantly dealing with the deceased, my parents considered me cursed, and my sister, Stella, found me an embarrassment. What they didn’t know was that I possessed a unique gift: a special sensitivity. At the moment of suturing a body or applying makeup to a deceased person, I could hear their last words left on Earth. Today, an unidentified young woman’s body had arrived. She was found wedged in the rocks by the sea. The seawater had distorted her features, and her limbs were already showing the early signs of adRusselld decomposition, a truly gruesome sight. The coroner had ruled it an accidental drowning. But the instant I picked up the powder puff and touched her cold, swollen cheek, a piercing, desperate voice shot straight into my eardrums. “Nathaniel Carr… help me… don’t kill me!” “The ring… it’s in his fish tank… I’m the ninth…” The powder puff slipped from my hand and clattered to the floor. Nathaniel Carr. That name was all too familiar. Just yesterday, my radiant sister, Stella, had brought her new fiancé home. He was a refined gentleman with gold-rimmed glasses, the CFO of a successful company, named Nathaniel Carr. My parents beamed with approval, and Stella preened like a proud peacock, showing off to me about her impending marriage into wealth. And now, that man’s name echoed in the dying words of an unknown woman, a name twisted into a chilling spectral warning. “The ninth…” A shiver of dread ran through me. If this young woman’s words were true, Nathaniel Carr was not only a murderer but a serial killer. And my own sister was about to become his wife. That evening, I returned home to an atmosphere thick with celebration. The living room was piled high with luxury gifts – Nathaniel had sent them over as engagement presents that afternoon. Mom was holding a pearl necklace to her throat, grinning from ear to ear. “Oh, the quality of this! Let’s see how old Mrs. Miller’s daughter next door can compare now. Stella really has a knack for things, unlike some people who spend all day with the dead, bringing back bad luck.” Stella was on the sofa, manicuring her nails, and rolled her eyes at Mom’s comment. “Mom, why bring her up? As long as she doesn’t show her face at my engagement party and embarrass me, that’s all I ask.” I took a deep breath and walked to the coffee table, blocking the television light. “Sis, you can’t get engaged.” I looked into Stella’s eyes, trying to keep my voice steady. “Nathaniel Carr is dangerous.” The room fell into a deathly silence. Three seconds later, Stella let out a snicker, as if she’d heard the funniest joke imaginable. “Celeste, are you crazy? What’s wrong with Nathaniel? Is it because he’s too rich, or because he loves me too much, and it’s driving you insane with jealousy?” “It’s not jealousy.” My fists clenched, nails digging into my flesh. “Today, an unidentified young woman’s body came into the mortuary. Before she died… she spoke to me. She said Nathaniel Carr killed her, that he’s a serial killer! The body is in Mortuary Cabinet 3. Sis, just believe me this once, at least look into his background!” To make them believe, I had to describe my inexplicable ability to “hear last words” as a “dream” or an intuition. Suddenly, an exquisite bone china teacup came hurtling towards me. 2. The teacup shattered at my feet, porcelain shards spraying, one slicing my ankle. Mom had thrown it. She stood up, pointing a finger at my nose and screaming, “Celeste! Are you deliberately trying to ruin your sister’s happiness? Huh? You’re an unwanted embalmer, spending all day with corpses, has your brain rotted too?” “Making up stories about your future brother-in-law? A murderer? Why don’t you just say he’s an alien?!” Stella stood up, her heels clicking as she strode over, looking down at me. The disgust in her eyes almost spilled over. “Celeste, I know you’ve always been a dark soul. When we were kids, if I wanted a new dress, you’d say it would rain and get dirty. Now I’m marrying into wealth, and you’re cursing my fiancé as a killer.” “Has your mouth sewn up so many dead people’s mouths that it only spits venom?” “I’m not cursing you!” My eyes reddened with urgency. “The young woman said Nathaniel Carr has a ring hidden in his fish tank! That’s proof! If we just check—” “Enough!” Dad slammed his hand on the table. “Nathaniel took us to his villa just this afternoon. That huge fish tank has expensive Koi carp, worth thousands! You want us to go rummage through it? Do you want our family to become the laughingstock of the entire city?” “Get back to your room!” Mom pushed me. “You’re such bad luck! What if Nathaniel finds out tomorrow and thinks we have a lunatic in the family? From today on, you’re not allowed out, and you’re certainly not allowed at Stella’s engagement party!” I was shoved into my small, north-facing bedroom. From outside, their joyful laughter echoed, discussing tomorrow’s hotel menu, debating whether to honeymoon in the Maldives or Switzerland. I leaned against the door, the young woman’s desperate cry reverberating in my mind. “The ninth…” Sister, if you become the tenth, who will be there to hear your last words? Early the next morning, I slipped out of the house while everyone else was still asleep. I couldn’t just stand by and watch Stella walk into danger, no matter how much she humiliated me. I decided to go to the police station or look for clues related to the unidentified young woman. But I had no evidence. Besides the voice in my head, I had nothing. If I went to the police now and said, “The body told me Nathaniel Carr killed her,” they would most likely send me to a psychiatric hospital. It would only tip off Nathaniel Carr and make him cautious. I returned to the mortuary. Just outside, I saw a black SUV parked. A man in a black trench coat was crouched on the steps, smoking, a scattering of cigarette butts at his feet. He looked disheveled and fierce, his eyes bloodshot, but his face was remarkably handsome, with sharp, defined features. He saw me approaching in my work uniform, extinguished his cigarette, and asked in a hoarse voice, “Are you the embalmer in charge of the young woman in Cabinet 3?” I nodded. “Are you family?” The man closed his eyes in pain. “I’m her brother. I’m a private investigator. I’ve been looking for her for three months… I never expected to find her here.” His name was Garrett. I’d seen that name in the news; he was Southwood’s most renowned forensic consultant, having solved many cold cases, but his sister’s disappearance had remained a mystery. Garrett followed me into the morgue. The moment the white sheet was pulled back, this six-foot-plus tough man instantly broke down, falling to his knees and wailing. “Lily… it’s my fault… I couldn’t protect you…” I stood by, watching his unbearable grief, and the impulse within me could no longer be suppressed. This was true love for the departed. Unlike my family, who met warnings of death with only disdain and curses. “Mr. Russell,” I said softly. “Your sister suffered greatly when she passed.” Garrett abruptly looked up at me, his eyes like a wounded beast. “How do you know? The coroner said she drowned…” “She told me she was held underwater until she drowned.” I met Garrett’s eyes, deciding to take a gamble. “The killer’s name is Nathaniel Carr. The evidence is in his fish tank—a ring.” 3. Garrett froze. Any normal person hearing such words would think I was a charlatan. But he didn’t. He stared intensely at me, as if grasping at a last straw. “Are you certain? Do you know what you’re saying? Nathaniel Carr is a rising star in Southwood’s business world. If you make false accusations, you’ll be legally responsible.” “I’m an embalmer.” I pointed to my ears. “I can hear the dead. Your sister said she was the ninth victim. If you don’t believe me, you can check Nathaniel Carr’s fish tank, or look into whether his previous girlfriends all mysteriously disappeared.” The air hung heavy for a full minute. Garrett suddenly stood up and bowed deeply to me. “I believe you.” His voice was hoarse yet firm. “For three months, I’ve investigated all of Lily’s social connections. The only one I couldn’t get a full background on was Nathaniel Carr. My gut told me he was suspicious, but I had no evidence, no direction. Ms. Clarke, thank you for giving me a lead.” He pulled a black business card from his coat and handed it to me. “Regardless of the outcome, I, Garrett Russell, won’t forget this. If he’s responsible for nine lives, it’s not just Lily. Ms. Clarke, you know this secret is dangerous. A man like Nathaniel Carr is very perceptive.” I offered a bitter smile. “My sister is getting engaged to him today.” Garrett’s expression instantly changed. “Then your sister is in great danger.” “I tried to warn her,” I said, lowering my gaze. “But she thinks I’m jealous, and my parents think I’m bad luck.” Garrett was silent for a moment, then retrieved a miniature tracking device from his car, designed to look like a simple brooch. “Wear this. If you’re in danger, press it, and no matter where you are, I’ll be there. You’ve brought peace to my sister’s restless spirit, which makes you my benefactor, Ms. Clarke. If your family doesn’t believe you, you can consider me your support.” In that moment, in the cold morgue, I felt a warmth I hadn’t experienced in a long time. My own parents considered me worthless, yet this man, a stranger I had just met, prioritized my safety. I accepted the brooch, looking at Garrett. “Mr. Russell, if you find evidence, could you please not make it public immediately? I want… I want my sister to see that man’s true colors.” “You want to save her?” Garrett asked. 4. I shook my head, remembering the teacup that had shattered at my feet last night. “I want to save myself. Only with Nathaniel Carr’s downfall can I shed the labels of ‘lunatic’ and ‘jealous freak.’ As for my sister… that’s the path she chose.” Half a month later, Stella and Nathaniel Carr’s wedding proceeded as scheduled. During that half-month, my family treated me like a thief, terrified I would disrupt the wedding. I, in turn, enjoyed the peace, moving into the mortuary’s staff dormitory, exchanging updates with Garrett daily. Garrett’s efficiency was astonishing. Instead of directly searching the fish tank, he followed the “ninth victim” lead, using his network to discreetly investigate Nathaniel Carr’s movements over the past decade. Sure enough, Nathaniel Carr would move to a new city every year or so, and around the time of his departure, young women would mysteriously disappear locally. While most bodies were never found or were ruled accidental, with the “core suspect” I provided, all the pieces of the puzzle began to fit. On the wedding day, Mom specifically called me. “Celeste, today is Stella’s big day. I know you’re feeling unbalanced, but you’re still her sister. You have to come today; we’re taking family photos. If you don’t, don’t ever call me your mother again!” I looked at myself in the mirror, dressed in a black business suit, and touched the brooch pinned to my collar. “Okay, I’ll be there.” I went, not for blessings, but to bear witness. To witness how this family, caught in a bubble of vanity, slowly descended into an abyss. The wedding was held at Southwood’s most luxurious five-star hotel. The moment I entered, I received countless strange glances. In a sea of guests adorned in evening gowns and glittering jewelry, my all-black attire stood out jarringly, almost as if I were attending a funeral. “Oh dear, is that the younger daughter from the Clarke family who works at the crematorium?” “So ill-mannered, dressed like that for a wedding. Isn’t she just trying to upset her sister?” “I heard she even spread rumors that the groom was a murderer. Clearly, something’s wrong with her head.” Stella, in a custom-made gown worth a fortune, clung to Nathaniel Carr’s arm, looking like a haughty queen. Seeing me, her smile faltered, then she adopted a magnanimous, forgiving expression, speaking into the microphone: “Thank you all for coming to my wedding. Although my sister, due to her work, has a rather… peculiar personality, and even some misunderstandings about me, I’m still very happy she could make it.” These words made her seem gracious while simultaneously confirming my supposed immaturity. Nathaniel Carr pushed his gold-rimmed glasses up, his gaze falling on me. That look—cold, slimy, like a snake crawling up my spine. He smiled as he walked towards me, raising a glass of wine: “Celeste, isn’t it? Stella tells me you have some ‘special’ thoughts about me? I hear… you can speak with the dead?” The surrounding guests erupted in laughter. Boom! The last thread in my mind snapped. I sharply looked at Stella, who stood not far away. She was looking over here with a shy, adoring expression, utterly oblivious that in her eagerness to please this man, she had revealed my professional habits and past warnings as amusing anecdotes to curry favor! She had personally handed my ace card into the devil’s grasp. Nathaniel Carr watched my pale face, the smile on his lips deepening. He gently tapped my rigid wine glass, producing a sharp clink, like the prelude to a death knell. “Don’t be nervous. I’m quite interested in ‘bodies’ myself. If the opportunity arises, I’d truly like to learn… how those speechless dead people manage to accuse you.” 5. I looked at him, unafraid. “Mr. Carr, the dead do speak. And not only do they speak, they also hold grudges.” Nathaniel Carr’s pupils constricted slightly, but his smile remained. “Oh? Then I’d truly like to hear it, given the chance.” “You will,” I said softly. “Soon.” Just then, Mom rushed over, tugged me aside, and hissed in a low voice, “You wretched girl, shut up! If you dare to say another word, I’ll tear your mouth off! Go sit in a corner quickly, don’t be an eyesore!” During the family photo segment, the photographer directed the positions. “Alright, bride and groom in the center, parents on either side, sister… sister, stand a bit to the side, a bit further.” I was pushed to the very edge, half my body out of frame. The moment the flash went off, I saw Nathaniel Carr’s hand resting on Stella’s waist, his long index finger gently tapping the lace of her wedding dress. It was his habitual motion when looking for where to strike. And Stella, her face beaming with happiness, was utterly unaware. After the photos, I skipped dinner and turned to leave. Just as I exited the banquet hall, I received a message from Garrett, with an attached image. It was the DNA comparison result from trace human tissue extracted from Nathaniel Carr’s villa’s drainage pipes. Along with a blurry photo, taken through a floor-to-ceiling window, of a shimmering object under the light at the bottom of the huge fish tank. The caption contained only four words: [The hunt begins.] I glanced back at the brilliantly lit banquet hall. Sister, your dream of marrying into wealth has come true. But your nightmare has only just begun. I took out my phone, cropped my half-body out of the family photo, then blocked Mom and Stella’s contact information. From today, I was the sole witness, and the cold, detached avenger. Since you chose not to believe me, you will bear the price of this “sweetness” yourselves. After leaving that nauseating wedding, my life paradoxically became incredibly peaceful. I blocked everyone in my family and moved into the single dormitory provided by the mortuary. Although it was only a small studio, without endless scolding or my sister’s condescending mockery, it was paradise to me. Garrett became a frequent visitor. He was no longer the disheveled, heavy-drinking man; he had shaved his beard, cut his hair short, and regained the sharp, decisive look he wore as a police consultant. But every time he came to see me, he would bring a hot breakfast or some strange but practical small gift, like pepper spray or a miniature voice recorder. “Morning.” Garrett placed a cup of hot soy milk on my desk, his gaze sweeping over the makeup kit I was organizing. “Work today?” “Yes, an elderly man who died in a car accident.” I put on my gloves, speaking calmly. “His family wants him to have a dignified farewell.” Garrett leaned against the door, quietly watching me work. He never seemed bothered by the smell, nor did he find my job gruesome. This silent companionship brought me an unprecedented sense of peace. When I finished suturing the old man’s wounds, and my fingers touched his cold earlobe, that familiar voice did not appear. The old man had passed away peacefully, with no last words. This, in my profession, was actually the norm. Demons like Nathaniel Carr, burdened with multiple lives, were ultimately a rarity. “By the way,” Garrett pulled a document from his coat and handed it to me. “This is what you asked for.” It contained Nathaniel Carr’s recent movements, and… screenshots from Stella’s social media. Since I had blocked them, Garrett had become my “eyes.” In the screenshots, Stella showcased the pristine blue waters of the Maldives, with the caption: “My husband says he wants to show me the whole world. This is what marrying for love looks like.” Below were Mom and Dad’s comments: “Our daughter is so happy! Your mom is envious!” And various other relatives’ praises. Garrett let out a cold laugh, tapping his finger on the desk. “The photos are edited. Nathaniel Carr never took her out of the country; they’ve been at his villa in Southwood. He restricted her from traveling, using the excuse of a company IPO audit, claiming her passport was confiscated.”

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