My left eye can see ghosts. My boyfriend took me home to meet his parents. I eagerly offered to wash the dishes, but some dish soap splashed into my left eye. I covered my eye, looked up, and tried to say I was fine. But then I suddenly realized, I couldn’t see my boyfriend’s parents anymore. 1 On our first anniversary, my boyfriend, Caleb, suddenly suggested taking me home to meet his parents. I was both excited and nervous because I knew this meant he was thinking about marriage. I bought some gifts, and Caleb and I took the express train home. Caleb’s family lived in the suburbs of a small, tier-four city in the north. The apartment complex looked somewhat desolate, and the property management wasn’t doing a great job. But Caleb’s parents were truly wonderful people. They prepared a huge feast, barely eating themselves, constantly piling food onto my plate, and even slipped me a thick envelope of cash. Their warmth made me a bit uncomfortable, so after dinner, I volunteered to wash the dishes. Caleb’s mom, however, grew anxious. “Oh no, you can’t! You’re our guest; I’ll do them.” But I insisted, taking the dishes into the kitchen. “Auntie, you worked so hard making all that food; let me handle this.” Caleb’s mom still wouldn’t let up, trying to take the dishes from my hands. As I was squeezing out dish soap, her grab caused some to splash into my left eye. “Ow!” I bent down, covering my eye. Caleb’s parents panicked, and I heard his father’s voice. “Elara, are you alright?” I looked up, still clutching my left eye, trying to force a smile and say I was fine. But I suddenly froze. Because with only my right eye open, I suddenly realized that Caleb’s parents had vanished. 2 From a very young age, I noticed I could see things other children couldn’t. I could see my deceased grandfather smiling and waving at me, and I could also see a woman hanging in the study. My parents noticed my unusual abilities and took me to a spiritualist. The spiritualist said I had a yin-yang eye. But only one. So my left eye could see spirits, while my right eye was a pure yang eye, incredibly strong with positive energy. A pure yang eye meant that no matter what visible method a ghost used, my right eye couldn’t see them; it could only perceive physical objects in the mortal realm. The spiritualist told me that this yin-yang eye wasn’t frightening. As long as I didn’t provoke malevolent spirits, I wouldn’t invite trouble. As for distinguishing spirits, it was simple: I just needed to close my left eye and use my right eye to check if I could still see them. After all, no ghost, no matter what, could manifest to my right eye. So, growing up, every time I entered a new environment, I would secretly check with my right eye first to see if there were any unwelcome presences. But today, I didn’t do that when I came to Caleb’s house. Because when I stepped into their home, I only saw Caleb and his two parents, and I naturally assumed there wouldn’t be anything unsettling. But now, with only my right eye, I couldn’t see Caleb’s parents. What did that mean? It meant they weren’t human. A chill ran down my spine, and at that moment, I heard Caleb’s father’s voice again. “Elara, are you alright?” The kitchen was empty, yet the voice clearly echoed in my ears. I suppressed a shiver and forced a smile. “I’m fine, just a little dish soap.” I wiped my left eye clean and opened it. Sure enough, Caleb’s parents reappeared before me, looking at me with concern. I pretended to rub my left eye, then used only my right eye to check again. Caleb’s parents vanished once more. My heart sank completely. “What happened?” A clear voice sounded, and I looked up to see Caleb had entered. Caleb’s parents had already spoken, anxiously. “Elara got dish soap in her eye; we don’t know if it’s serious.” Caleb immediately rushed to me, asking worriedly, “Elara, are you okay?” But I didn’t answer. I just pretended to continue rubbing my left eye, while cautiously, I glanced at Caleb with only my right eye. 3 Caleb was still standing there, perfectly normal. My tense nerves relaxed slightly. Thank goodness, at least Caleb was still alive. But the next second, I felt a little ridiculous. Caleb and I lived together, intimately. If he wasn’t alive, how could I not know? Perhaps Caleb’s presence gave me some courage. I finally calmed down and smiled at Caleb’s parents. “Uncle and Auntie, I’m fine.” Caleb’s parents visibly relaxed. After washing the dishes, Caleb’s parents said they were going downstairs to buy fresh fruit for me. Once they left, I began to probe Caleb. From Caleb’s description, I learned that his parents were retired factory workers and rarely socialized with others. That explained a lot. If Caleb’s parents rarely interacted with people, it was normal for Caleb not to immediately discover if something happened to them and they suddenly passed away. Caleb also told me that it was his parents who had suggested bringing me home this time. “My parents, for some reason, suddenly told me a few days ago that I absolutely had to bring you back. Maybe they wanted to meet their future daughter-in-law sooner.” Caleb said it with a smile, but I felt a growing sense of dread. A few days ago? His parents might have already been dead by then. Two ghosts insisting on meeting me, what exactly did they want? I looked at Caleb, suddenly realizing I had to tell him the truth. So I spoke: “Caleb, do you know, your parents are actually already dead.” 4 Caleb froze for a moment, then he got a little angry. “Elara, that’s not funny at all!” I knew he wouldn’t believe me. I could only tell him everything about my left eye being a yin-yang eye. But Caleb still didn’t believe it. He hugged me worriedly: “Elara, are you under too much stress lately? Do you need to see a therapist?” He probably thought I was crazy. Helplessly, I spoke. “If you truly don’t believe me, why not try this. You’ve probably heard that scattering rice at the door can ward off spirits, right? That’s because rice can obscure the vision of ghosts, preventing them from seeing the location of the door.” “If you truly believe your parents are alive, open the door and then scatter a handful of rice at the entrance. If your parents are alive, they’ll be able to enter normally. But if your parents are ghosts, they’ll think the door is closed and won’t be able to find their way home.” Over the years, because of my yin-yang eye, I’d learned quite a bit from the spiritualist, and it was coming in handy today. Caleb still looked at me with disbelief, but at least he did as I said. Not long after, the elevator bell chimed in the hallway. Caleb’s parents were back. They were carrying groceries and called out from the hallway. “Caleb, come out and help your dad with the fruit!” Caleb glanced at me, his expression seeming to say, “See? I told you my parents are fine, didn’t I?” Then he got up and walked towards the door. But the next second, he suddenly froze. Because he saw his parents walk up to the open front door, and their footsteps suddenly halted. Immediately after, his dad shouted, “Caleb, what are you doing? Open the door for us!” 5 I saw Caleb’s face turn pale. Because the door was clearly open. Caleb spoke, almost trembling, “Dad, we’re a bit busy here. Can’t you just come in yourself?” His dad’s tone grew urgent: “We have so many things in our hands! How can we open the door! Come here quickly!” I don’t know if it was my imagination, but Caleb’s father’s voice suddenly sounded a little sharp, echoing continuously in the empty hallway. Caleb’s face instantly turned even whiter. I quickly pulled him aside. “Caleb,” I whispered, “It’s best not to provoke your parents right now. Just pretend you don’t know anything.” With that, I walked out the door, subtly kicking away the rice on the ground, then pretended to open the door. “Uncle and Auntie, you’re back.” Caleb’s father looked displeased: “Why didn’t you open the door just now?” He gave me a gloomy look, but I feigned a blush. “Caleb was keeping me… occupied… We didn’t expect you to be back so soon…” I lowered my head, feigning more shyness. Caleb’s parents looked like they understood. “Young people!” Caleb’s mother laughed, saying no more, then pulled Caleb’s father inside. We awkwardly ate some fruit, then Caleb made an excuse about needing an early night. Caleb’s house only had two rooms, and his parents weren’t old-fashioned, so they let Caleb and me share one. I also breathed a sigh of relief; with two ghosts in the house, I wouldn’t dare to sleep alone. That night, under the covers, Caleb hugged me and whispered. “Elara, I’ve thought about it. Even if they’re dead, they’re still my parents. I think they just couldn’t let go of me, so they wanted to see my girlfriend before they left.” I felt a pang of sympathy. Indeed, for Caleb, the loss of his loved ones was probably more painful than fear. Caleb suddenly asked me again, “But there’s one thing I don’t understand. Why can I still see my parents even though they’re ghosts? I don’t have yin-yang eyes.” “Ghosts have ways to make themselves visible,” I whispered. “Your parents must have deliberately used a manifestation method, but they didn’t expect my right eye to be a pure yang eye.” Since his parents invited me home, they must have had a way to manifest. After all, they didn’t know I had yin-yang eyes. It was because they didn’t expect me to have a pure yang eye that I discovered something was wrong with them. I whispered again, “I also hope your parents just wanted to see me, and not to harm anyone.” Caleb frowned, “How do we know if they want to harm us?” I was silent for a moment before speaking: “Ghosts are strongest in the middle of the night. If they intend to harm us, they’ll probably act tonight. Conversely, if they don’t bother us tonight, then we should be safe.” Caleb was about to speak when he heard my words, but just then— Knock, knock, knock. Suddenly, there was a knock on the door outside. Accompanied by Caleb’s mother’s gentle voice. “Caleb, Elara, are you asleep?”

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At the engagement party, just to cheer up a junior I knew who was battling cancer, Julian snapped off every single one of my freshly manicured nails. “Girls are vain and have short tempers; they can’t stand anyone else stealing the spotlight,” he said, a patronizing smirk playing on his lips. “She saw your nails and threw a fit, demanding the same design. But she’s in a critical phase of chemotherapy; we can’t just let her do whatever she wants.” My fingertips throbbed, a searing pain that brought tears streaming down my face, smudging my makeup. But he didn’t stop. Instead, he pointed at my streaked eyeliner, chuckling, and snapped a picture. “From wedding to funeral! Thanks for your cameo as the zombie bride, [redacted for localization]!” His junior, Kate, then posted the photo online, mocking me and turning me into a laughingstock. Julian actually tried to tell me to be more understanding. “It’s just a joke, why are you arguing with a sick person?” he said, his voice laced with annoyance. “It’s rare for Kate to be so happy. I’ll give you a thousand dollars. Tomorrow, shave your head too.” I stared at his self-righteous face. No tears, no outbursts. I simply canceled the engagement and arranged my studies abroad, all in one swift motion. “Just because I smiled a few times, you want to break up?” Julian asked, utterly bewildered. I nodded. “Yes, exactly because of that.” 1. For years, as childhood sweethearts, I never imagined it would come to this. Julian, who had always treated me like a precious treasure, would brutally break my nails for a junior who meant nothing to him. “This is what you deserve.” He loomed over me, his voice dripping with disgust. “Did you really think I don’t understand women’s petty games?” “Kate’s delicate, her face swollen from her illness, unable to wear makeup or dress up. You knew she had body image issues, yet you insisted on having her as a bridesmaid, deliberately standing beside her, radiant and beautiful. Weren’t you just trying to humiliate her, to push her to her death?” Stage lights flickered, illuminating my bleeding fingers. Tears fell silently. This meticulously planned engagement party was supposed to be the celebration of my love. But because of Kate, I had to appear barefaced, without any makeup or elaborate hairstyle. The custom-made gown I’d chosen months ago had been replaced, seemingly as a cruel prank, with a somber black dress. “Kate is seriously ill; you need to be patient with her.” This was Julian’s constant refrain. He knew I was suffering immense injustice. He knew Kate wasn’t as innocent as she seemed. Yet, he indulged her every whim, letting her cross my boundaries again and again. Even when Kate slipped something into my drink before the ceremony, he excused it as youthful mischief, a momentary impulse. “Why would a living person compete with someone who’s dying?” he’d pleaded. “Considering Kate might not have many years left, be generous, just let her have her way.” I was deeply disappointed and wanted to storm out right then and there. But Julian softened his tone, taking my hand and promising, “My kindness to Kate is purely out of a mentor’s responsibility. I’ll keep anyone who offends you far away. After the engagement, I’ll send her to a hospice. After that, her life or death will be none of my concern.” He spoke with such apparent sincerity. I couldn’t abandon two decades of shared history. So, I swallowed my pride, looking disheveled and worn, as I toasted the guests. When we reached Kate’s table, she stared at my freshly done manicure, then suddenly covered her face and burst into tears. “Oh, Julian, I wish I could be healthy!” she cried, her voice trembling. “Even someone as plain as her has the right to look nice. And I’m still so young, yet I can’t even use skincare products, let alone get a manicure!” She sobbed pitifully, her small frame shaking as if she might collapse at any second. “Kate!” Julian’s face darkened, his gaze filled with hatred as he looked at me. “Alice, I truly misjudged you. To secure your position as Mrs. Sterling, you’ll stoop to any dirty trick.” “What good does it do you to drive Kate insane? She’s already suffered enough, orphaned and alone, working her way through college, only to be struck down by a terminal illness just as her life was beginning!” he ranted. “Life is unfair. If only it were you who was dying!” His vicious words pierced my chest like a thousand blades. I stood frozen, my blood running cold. “Julian, you are my fiancé,” I said, gripping my trembling hand, trying to suppress the stinging in my eyes. “You’re siding with an outsider, humiliating me in front of everyone. Is this what you call love?” Julian froze. He saw my tears, heard the guests’ whispers. Instinctively, he wanted to soothe me, but Kate clung to him, stopping him. “Julian, if you choose her, I’ll stop my medication and leave the hospital tomorrow!” she wailed. “You promised you’d never abandon me, no matter what!” In the silent tension, Julian hesitated, his expression shifting from internal struggle to cold resolve. “I’m sorry, Alice.” He had made his choice. He grabbed my hand, avoiding my reddened eyes. In front of all the guests, without even a pair of scissors, he snapped off my nails. “I told you, no showing off at the engagement party,” he muttered, his voice cold. “You were in the wrong here. If I don’t teach you a lesson, Kate will resent me.” The sharp pain spread through my entire body. Looking at Julian’s determined profile, I distinctly heard something shatter within me. “Twenty-two years,” I said, staring at him. “Twenty-two years we’ve known each other, and this is how you treat me.” He pretended not to hear, showing no sign of softening. Instead, amidst the teasing cheers of his friends, he let out a couple of strained laughs. “Don’t be mad, they’ll grow back. Just think of it as making Kate happy. You haven’t really lost anything.” Kate, camera in hand, also leaned in, smirking. “Good women don’t need manicures. Julian’s doing it for your own good. Come on, let’s take a group photo! Such a dramatic moment, everyone should see it!” The crowd erupted in laughter, aiming their cameras at my bare, mangled fingers, snapping pictures relentlessly. My heart had completely turned to ice. I didn’t cry. I simply watched everything with a blank stare. Then, I pulled off my engagement ring and threw it at Julian’s face. “The engagement is off. From this day forward, you and I are strangers.” 2. With the main character gone, the much-anticipated engagement party ended abruptly and chaotically. I went back to my dorm alone, bandaged my fingers, and started packing. Many things were already prepared, meant for moving into our shared home after graduation and the engagement. Now, it was all unnecessary. Kate even posted on social media: “Julian, my hero, saved me! I can only repay him by giving myself to him.” The accompanying picture showed her wearing my silk pajamas, sitting on the bed I’d picked out for our home, embracing Julian with her face pressed against his. Someone commented below: “Isn’t Julian with Alice from the finance department? Did he switch fiancées?” Kate immediately replied: “Good men are for the taking. Alice couldn’t hold onto him, so he fell into my lap, didn’t he? Just to be clear, I’m not a home-wrecker. I’m just doing what’s right.” I refreshed the page, and the post was gone. I had no desire to argue with her. But as I packed away a framed family photo from my desk, Julian’s relentless defense of Kate brought a wave of sorrow. Julian always talked about how pathetic Kate was. But he forgot that my parents died young, my relatives moved in, and I lived like a ghost for years, scrubbing laundry for an entire family in the dead of winter, my fingers raw and bleeding, the scars etched deep into my bones. It was Julian who pulled me from that hell. He fought for my inheritance, battled for custody, and when he tended to my wounds, his tears fell like rain on my palms. “As long as I live, no one will dare mistreat you.” Such a precious promise from our youth. I believed in his sincerity, believed I was irreplaceable. Now, it seemed, I was nothing more than a fleeting distraction. “Are you still mad?” Julian asked, finally calling me after I hadn’t come home for days. He clearly felt he’d pushed things too far. “It was just a joke. You’re not going to be this petty, are you?” “Kate is young and hot-headed; she gets carried away. I was afraid of making a scene, and even more afraid she’d have an accident if she got too upset. That’s why…” Blood rushed to my head, and I slammed my phone down, unable to control my shout. “Just because she’s sick, I deserve to be walked all over?” “Don’t make excuses. I can see it. Kate likes you, and your feelings for her are more than just a mentor’s concern.” Caught red-handed, Julian became enraged. “So what if it’s true? Kate is innocent and sweet, never fighting for anything. She doesn’t have long to live, and her last wish is just a little affection from me. Why shouldn’t I give it to her?” “Alice, you’re so selfish. Haven’t I been under your thumb for over a decade? Do I need your permission to care about someone now?” My heart bled. I blinked through swollen eyes, wanting to say something, but in the end, I just fell silent. I mailed back all the love letters and gifts Julian had given me over the years. Along with the dust-covered house we’d planned to share, I transferred it to a real estate agent. “You’re really cruel.” Julian’s anger turned into a mocking laugh. “Alice, you’re an orphan. You haven’t had a real home in years. I was willing to marry you, to give you all the security you needed, materially and emotionally. It’s just one Kate, what’s the big deal?” Seeing my unwavering resolve to cut ties, Julian’s temper flared. “Fine, break up! Am I begging you to marry me?” He tossed the engagement ring down the drain, demanded I reimburse him for all our shared expenses, and then blacklisted me from every company in the city. “Come back when you realize your mistake,” he said coldly. “Without me, who’s going to care about you?” I didn’t back down. I struggled to make a life for myself under the immense pressure, watching coldly as he took Kate on trips around the world, indulging in lavish escapades. “Julian says he doesn’t want me to have any regrets in life,” Kate’s social media feed updated daily. She flaunted their affection, making sure I saw it. “A chapel in Switzerland, with the priest as our witness. I’m the most beautiful bride in my lover’s eyes.” “Even though we don’t have a marriage certificate, Julian is willing to humor me, and that’s enough.” No one liked her posts. Everyone knew that this doting “mentor” had once been my fiancé. Only Julian’s comment hung there, solitary and exposed: “Illness can’t take away memories; you are my eternal moonlight.” Thanks to these two, I became the laughingstock of the entire university. Everywhere I went, I was pointed at and whispered about. “She hasn’t even married into money yet, and she’s already been cast aside.” “She doesn’t have the fortune to match her airs, but she acts like she’s too good for everyone.” “No wonder Julian didn’t want her. You wouldn’t even take a woman like that if she were free.” The rumors swirled around me, but I pretended not to hear them. It wasn’t until the list for graduate school admissions was posted, and my name was replaced by Kate’s, that I realized the full extent of Julian’s malice. He was truly trying to destroy me. “Kate wanted this spot, so I gave it to her,” he said, looking down at me condescendingly. “You weren’t exactly kind to her before, so consider this your apology. From now on, coexist peacefully and don’t stir up trouble for me.” 3. I stood there, stunned and disbelieving. “You reported me for academic fraud?” Julian’s eyes darted away, unable to meet my gaze. “Studying for her master’s was Kate’s dream. She worked so hard, from early mornings to late nights, she barely even ate.” “And you know, she’s a cancer patient. If she keeps pushing herself like that, how will her body cope?” Apparently convinced of his own logic, Julian straightened his posture. He pulled out a black credit card and threw it at my face. “Anyway, you don’t have anything to do, so why don’t you go to the hospital and take care of Kate?” “Your parents also died of cancer, so you have experience. Being a caregiver would suit you. There’s a thousand dollars on the card; I’ll add more if it’s not enough. And remember to cut your hair. Kate can’t stand anyone prettier than her.” Julian’s tone was self-righteous. I felt like I had plunged into an ice-cold abyss. The last flicker of hope in my heart completely extinguished. “Julian, you treat me with such contempt. Is it because you think I have no way to retaliate, or because you’re so sure I’m soft-hearted and will always give in to you?” I stared at him coldly, my voice like ice. “Asking me to care for your mistress? Aren’t you afraid that in my anger, I might add something to her medication, ending up with two deaths?” Julian’s face went pale, his eyes filled with a guilty flicker. “How did you know Kate was pregnant…?” I curled my lips into a cold smile. Julian thought I was too stupid. I had seen him when he loved me, so when he became distant and distraught over someone else, I was the first to notice. “Stop pretending to be so devoted. It’s disgusting.” I slapped the ultrasound report onto Julian’s face. The evidence was undeniable, leaving no room for argument. “You two got together years ago, when I recommended Kate for that work-study position in the lab.” “You used to tell me I was too suspicious, checking your phone and questioning your whereabouts constantly, treating you like a child.” “But honestly, was I wrong to check?” My nose stung, and I fought back tears, sneering. “You cheated first, driving me to the brink of madness, and now you blame me for not being magnanimous enough.” Julian was speechless. “It’s not what you think.” He ran a hand through his hair in frustration. “That day, the hospital sent a chemo notification, Kate was upset and had too much to drink. She insisted on experiencing what it was like to be in love, and I just couldn’t refuse her.” Even he seemed embarrassed by his own words. After a moment of stammering, he finally promised, “If it bothers you, the baby doesn’t have to exist.”

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At dinner, I had just cut into my chicken leg when my brother suddenly pointed at my nose and yelled: “What gives you the right to eat my chicken leg?! You’re a girl—you don’t deserve the chicken leg!” Without thinking, I kicked out. He went flying, chair and all, crashing to the floor. Mom and Dad dropped their forks in shock. Before Riley could get up, I planted my foot on his chest. Pinned to the ground, he stared up at me, stunned silent. “Where did you learn to talk like that?” His mouth opened, but no sound came out. I pressed down harder with my foot.”Who taught you that?” Riley burst into tears, sobbing hysterically. “I was wrong! I was wrong!” I didn’t move my foot, staring down at him. “Say it!” Riley’s legs kicked wildly as he choked on his sobs. “Derek Walsh… Marcus and Jason… they all said…” “Said what?” Riley went silent. I applied more pressure. “I’ll tell you!” he wailed. “They said I was pathetic, worse than a girl, that only a worthless loser would let his own sister boss him around, that I wasn’t a real man…” I slowly lifted my foot. The room went quiet for a few seconds. Mom stood nearby, still holding the broom she’d grabbed to clean up the mess, her eyes suddenly welling with tears. Dad walked over and crouched in front of Riley. “Riley, tell Dad—how do they treat you normally?” Riley sniffled, too scared to speak. Dad didn’t push, just stayed crouched there, waiting. “…They push me around,” Riley finally said, covering his face, voice barely above a whisper. “They say I’m so useless I must be a girl, so when I use the bathroom they block the door and won’t let me out. They like to pull down my pants and laugh at me… Derek makes me do his homework, or else he beats me up… I… I can’t fight them… I’m sorry…” Mom lifted Riley up tenderly, wiping his tears. Dad stood, his face dark with anger. “Tomorrow I’m going to your school to talk to your homeroom teacher.” Riley froze, tears streaming down his face again. “But Riley,” Dad looked at him, “there’s something you need to understand.” Riley sniffed, looking at Dad in confusion. “How other families live is their business. In our family, if Madison wants to eat chicken, she eats chicken. If you want chicken, you eat chicken. It has nothing to do with whether you’re a boy or a girl. Understand?” Riley nodded, then shook his head. “But… but they all say…” Mom wiped away his fresh tears, saying gently: “What other people say isn’t always right. I know a bit about Derek’s family—he has three older sisters and him, and those sisters are treated worse than animals. That family isn’t normal. In a normal family, all children are equal, regardless of gender. Got it?” Riley nodded obediently. I turned back to the table, picked up the chicken leg, and bit into it without expression. Riley shuffled over to my side, eyes still red, carefully tugging at the corner of my shirt. “Madison… I was wrong.” I didn’t respond. His voice got smaller, tearful. “I shouldn’t have said those things to you… I shouldn’t have just listened to what other people said. I’m sorry…” I chewed my rice and gave a noncommittal “Mm.” He suddenly ran back to his room, returning moments later clutching an action figure—a birthday present I’d saved up six months of allowance to buy him. He placed it beside my hand. “Madison, here—you can have this back.” I paused. “You keep it for me,” he sniffled. “When I prove I can behave, you can give it back. Or if I make you angry again, you can smash it.” I pushed the figure back toward him. “No need. You keep it. Just don’t let there be a next time.” He clutched the figure, tears falling again. I kept eating, saying casually, “Stop crying. I’m just next door in 7th grade, room five. If things get bad in your class, you can come find me during breaks.” Riley nodded hard.

The next afternoon, after second period. I was sprawled over my desk doing math homework, the classroom buzzing with chatter and the occasional snorer. “Madison! Someone’s here for you!” I looked up. An unfamiliar boy stood at the door, craning his neck to peer inside. I put down my pen and walked out. Seven or eight people stood in the hallway. The one in front was half a head shorter than me, face twisted with hostility, backed by several other boys of varying heights, all wearing middle school uniforms. The leader walked up to me, tilting his face up. “You Madison Reed? Riley’s sister?” I nodded, already knowing. “Derek Walsh?” He snorted, glancing back. His crew stepped forward, forming a semicircle. “Your parents went to my homeroom teacher, even said they’d call my parents in to ‘manage’ me. Ridiculous!” His voice rose. “I know that wimp Riley doesn’t have the guts, so it must’ve been you who snitched! What, can’t fight your own battles so you run to mommy and daddy? What are you, in kindergarten?” The boys around him laughed. I stared at him expressionlessly. “Your brother’s a pathetic waste, getting bossed around by his sister at home—he should be ashamed to even be alive! I’m just trying to teach him to grow a spine. What’s wrong with that?” I took a step forward. Derek instinctively stepped back, then stopped, probably remembering his backup. “I’m warning you,” he pointed at me, spittle flying, “mind your own business from now on, or I’ll get people to—” Before he could finish, I grabbed his finger and wrenched it upward. He let out a piercing shriek. I kicked his knee and he dropped to the ground with a thud. “I’m warning you—if you bully my brother again, you’ll regret it.” I grabbed his hair, leaning down with menace in my voice. Derek burst into tears, shouting, “What are you all standing around for?! Get her!” The middle school troublemakers behind him started forward, but my classroom door burst open and a crowd poured out. Jake, our class president, positioned himself in front of me first, followed by other class officers and students. “Who the hell are you people? Coming to start trouble? Did you ask us first?” “So what? Your classmate’s bullying an elementary kid—have you no shame?” The two groups pressed against each other, shoving and pushing, on the verge of a full fight. Derek, hiding behind his crew, yelled, “I just want Madison! This has nothing to do with you! Get lost!” “She’s in our class—you think it has nothing to do with us?” The scene grew more chaotic, several boys grappling, the hallway filled with shouting. “EVERYONE STOP!” A shrill scream rang out. The crowd parted as a woman pushed through. It was my homeroom teacher, Ms. Victoria Smith. The moment she arrived, she slapped me across the face without a word, pointing at my nose as she shrieked: “I knew it! You shameless little seductress! Look at yourself! Leading a bunch of boys to fight for you—pretty proud of yourself, aren’t you? So young and already up to no good, manipulating boys into doing your dirty work—have you no shame?” My face snapped to the side, burning with pain. The hallway went silent. Ms. Smith kept screaming. “Madison Reed, I’m telling you right now—I’ve seen plenty of students like you. Trading on your looks, getting male classmates to fight your battles. You think I don’t know what you are?” I slowly turned my head back. My ears were ringing. The faces around me blurred. Someone was shouting something—Jake and other classmates seemed to be explaining, gesturing wildly. But one voice was clearer than anything else— Dad’s words from childhood: “Sweetie, no matter what—if you’re in a fight, you can’t lose.” She dared to hit me? I grabbed the potted plant and smashed it into Ms. Smith’s face.

The pot exploded against her face. Ms. Smith screamed and stumbled backward, blood streaming down her forehead, soil scattering everywhere. She clutched her face, voice piercing. “Madison! Are you insane?!” I wasn’t insane. I was perfectly calm. In fact, I wanted to punch her a couple more times. The hallway erupted into chaos. People were screaming, someone yelled “Get a teacher!”, someone rushed to grab me. Derek cowered against the wall, face white with terror. The troublemakers he’d brought tried to escape in the confusion, but our class’s boys blocked them. Jake grabbed the tallest one, shouting to the others, “Nobody leaves! You think you can just attack someone and run?!” Sarah, our vice president, rushed over and grabbed my arm. “Madison! Calm down…” I stood there, fists clenched, rigid. Ms. Smith was helped to her feet, blood covering half her face. She pointed at me, trembling all over. “You little bitch, you… you just wait…” I stared coldly at this teacher who’d had it out for me since day one, saying nothing. Five minutes later, the discipline director and principal came running. Mr. Anderson saw Ms. Smith’s bloody face, eyes nearly popping out. “Ms. Smith! Who did this?” Ms. Smith pointed at me, voice shrill. “Her! Madison! This student is completely out of control! So young and already manipulating male students, just now she even organized an attack on an elementary student. I merely said a few words to her and she attacked me with a flower pot!” The principal was an older man with glasses, usually smiling and kind-looking, but now his face was cold as ice. “Bring all involved students to the discipline office. Call their parents.”

The discipline office was packed. Mom and Dad sat on the principal’s left. Mom’s eyes were red, gripping my hand so tight her knuckles were white. Dad’s face was grim, not saying a word, but I could tell he was holding back rage. The seats on the principal’s right were empty—Derek’s parents hadn’t arrived yet. Derek hid behind his group of troublemakers. Ms. Smith sat in a chair nearby, head wrapped in gauze with blood seeping through. She refused to go to the hospital, insisting on staying to “watch this delinquent student be dealt with.” The principal sat behind his desk, Mr. Anderson standing beside him. Several class officers stood behind me, along with some classmates who’d helped shield me—boys and girls, not one had left. The door burst open. Derek’s dad stormed in holding up his phone—the screen showing a live stream, comments flooding past. His mom followed, immediately rushing to Derek and crying: “My baby! My baby, are you okay?! Mommy’s here, don’t be scared!” Derek’s lip quivered and he burst into tears, mother and son crying together. His dad swept the phone camera around the discipline office, finally shoving it in my face. “Everyone look! This girl right here—she attacked my son! My Derek is only ten years old, and she beat him black and blue!” The comments went wild: 【Who is this girl, acting so tough】 【Beating up an elementary kid, shameless】 【Call her parents in】 【No home training, she’ll never find a husband】 … Mom couldn’t take it anymore, standing up abruptly. “What are you doing?!” Derek’s mom whirled around, first rattling off a string of curses in dialect, then wailing: “What am I doing?! My son was beaten by your daughter—I’m here for justice! Look at my son—fingers bent like that, knees covered in bruises—is your daughter even human?!” Ms. Smith clutched her forehead, looking weak, and staggered toward the camera. “Mr. Walsh, Mrs. Walsh, please calm down. The school will handle this…” She paused, eyes suddenly welling up, voice choking. “Actually, I noticed problems with Madison from the start. First day of school I could tell something was off—dressing up all flashy, always hanging around the boys. Today you saw what happened—she led a gang of male students to fight, beat Derek like this, and when I tried to intervene, she attacked me with a flower pot!” She pointed at her head, gauze stained with blood. “I’ve been teaching for fifteen years. I’ve never seen a student like this—rotten to the core, completely out of control!” The comments exploded: 【Holy shit she attacked a teacher?!】 【Expel her! She has to be expelled!】 【Abnormal kids should be sent to special schools, why should they be allowed to harm normal teachers and students!】 I stared coldly at Ms. Smith’s performance, unconsciously running my tongue over my canine teeth. How could… how could anyone be so viciously jealous of someone? From the first day of school, I’d noticed Ms. Smith had it out for me. That day I wore my new school uniform—skirt to the knees, hair in a ponytail, standing in the middle of the line. She suddenly walked over, looked me up and down, and said sarcastically, “Did you shorten your skirt?” I looked down at my skirt and everyone else’s, not understanding how anyone could be this blind. “No.” She snorted, warning me she’d be watching me, telling me not to pull that kind of trick. Later I learned she disliked me because of my mom. The day I registered, Mom came with me, wearing a floral dress and light makeup. Ms. Smith was at the door greeting people. Mom smiled and said hello. She smiled back, all fake. Once we were far enough away, I heard her tell another teacher: “You can tell she’s not a decent person, dressing like that. The daughter’s probably no better.” I didn’t tell Mom what she said. But I remembered it. The first week of school, I was made Chinese class representative—personally appointed by Ms. Smith. I thought it was a good sign. Later I realized she just wanted someone easy to push around.

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For ten years, I was Adrian’s ghostwriter, crafting his path to literary stardom. When our daughter needed fifty thousand dollars for emergency heart surgery, he’d just won a million-dollar prize—but wouldn’t spare a dime. He snapped at me over the phone: “Rachel’s son has a cold and I can’t leave! All you ever do is ask for money!” I hung up, sold our house, and got my daughter the surgery. Three months later, Adrian threw a celebration party at a hotel. Glass in hand, basking in glory, he spotted me in the crowd. I wore a server’s uniform, carrying a tray, bowing with a smile. My daughter, cradled in my arms, lifted her pale little face and asked politely, “Sir, could I have some orange juice?” Hearing our daughter call him “sir” instead of “daddy,” his smile froze instantly. “Fiona, what the hell are you doing here?” He lowered his voice, each word forced through gritted teeth, humiliated at being confronted publicly. I ignored him, adjusted my server badge marked “07,” then knelt down to look tenderly at my daughter. “Lily, would you like some orange juice? Mommy will get you some.” “Okay.” Lily nodded obediently, her small hand clutching my sleeve. She’d just recovered from heart surgery. Her body was still weak, her little face so pale it was almost translucent—heartbreaking to see. I stood up with her in my arms, ready to leave. Adrian grabbed my wrist, his grip nearly crushing my bones. “Stop! I’m talking to you!” The woman beside him—renowned editor Rachel—immediately stepped forward, elegantly tugging his sleeve. “Adrian, calm down.” Her voice was soft and soothing. Then she turned to me, her eyes displaying perfectly calibrated pity. “Fiona, I know you might be going through difficulties, but do you understand what occasion this is? Making a scene like this helps no one.” With one sentence, she painted me as a hysterical woman desperate for money. The guests around us—literary elites and media reporters—turned their gazes toward us like spectators at a show. Adrian’s face darkened like a thundercloud. He felt I’d humiliated him beyond measure. I looked at him and suddenly smiled. “Mr. Walker, do we even know each other?” He froze. I pulled my aching wrist from his grip and pointed to Lily in my arms, my voice not loud but carrying clearly to every corner. “My daughter wanted some orange juice, but she doesn’t know you, so she called you ‘sir.’ What, Mr. Walker doesn’t understand basic courtesy and has to yell at a child?” Lily seemed frightened by the tense atmosphere. She shrank into my arms and whispered, “Mommy, I don’t want it anymore. Let’s go home.” My heart clenched painfully. I kissed her forehead. “Don’t be afraid, Lily. Mommy’s here.” Adrian’s gaze finally fell on Lily. He looked at her pale little face, at the faint outline of surgical scars visible beneath her clothing, and his body visibly stiffened. “Her… her condition…” “The surgery was successful.” I smiled, but my words cut like knives. “After all, I sold our only house and finally scraped together the fifty thousand for the surgery.” “You sold the house?!” Adrian’s voice shot up, his eyes full of disbelief. That house had been bought outright by my parents as our wedding home. Rachel’s expression changed. She quickly grabbed Adrian’s arm, her voice carrying a hint of warning. “Adrian, calm down! Don’t forget what today is!” Adrian seemed to wake from a dream. He looked around and realized everyone was watching him with probing eyes. He took a deep breath, forcibly suppressing his emotions, and pulled out his wallet. He extracted a card and held it out to me. “There’s a hundred thousand in here. Password’s your birthday. Take it and stop making a scene, okay?” His tone was like he was dismissing a beggar. I laughed. Laughed until tears nearly came. I didn’t take the card. Instead, my gaze dropped to Rachel’s wrist. There, a gleaming Patek Philippe ladies’ watch sparkled. “Miss Carter, that’s a beautiful watch,” I said softly. Rachel instinctively pulled back her hand, then displayed it openly with a smile. “Fiona has good taste. Adrian gave it to me as a gift.” “A gift?” I nodded, my smile deepening. “The Golden Pen Literary Award prize was one million dollars. After taxes, exactly eight hundred thousand. Miss Carter’s watch, if I’m not mistaken, is a limited edition that retails for exactly eight hundred thousand. Mr. Walker is so generous—using his daughter’s life-saving money to buy his mistress a watch.” Boom. The entire ballroom felt like a bomb had been dropped. Dead silence. You could hear a pin drop. Every eye shifted from me to that eight-hundred-thousand-dollar watch on Rachel’s wrist. Rachel’s face drained of all color instantly. “You… you’re lying! I bought this watch myself!” she shrieked, her voice distorted by guilt. Adrian was completely dumbfounded. He stared at Rachel’s wrist, then at me, his eyes filled with confusion and shock. “Rachel, what the hell is going on?” “Adrian, don’t listen to her nonsense! She’s just jealous and trying to sabotage us!” Rachel was so agitated that tears streamed down her face. She grabbed his arm, shaking desperately. “That prize money—I… I was saving it for you! I didn’t touch it!” “Is that so?” I laughed coldly, picking up a glass of red wine from a server’s tray and walking toward her. “Miss Carter, why so agitated? If you really bought it yourself, you shouldn’t mind me helping you verify its authenticity, right?” Without waiting for her response, I raised my hand and poured the entire glass of red wine over that eight-hundred-thousand-dollar watch. “Ahh—!” Rachel let out a piercing scream. The surrounding guests gasped in shock. “Fiona, you’re insane!” Adrian roared, rushing forward and shoving me aside. I lost my balance. Holding Lily, I staggered backward several steps and slammed into the table behind me, sharp pain shooting through my lower back. Lily burst into tears, terrified. I ignored my own pain, holding my daughter tight and soothing her gently. Meanwhile, Rachel was nearly hysterical with distress. She grabbed napkins, frantically wiping the watch, shouting incoherently, “My watch! My watch! This cost eight hundred thousand!” Only after she’d said it did she realize her words. She clapped her hand over her mouth, staring at Adrian in horror. Too late. Everyone had heard. Adrian’s face went from iron-gray to deathly pale to ashen. He stood frozen like a weathered statue, looking at Rachel, then at me. That look in his eyes—as if he were staring at his mortal enemy. I held Lily, who’d stopped crying but was still sobbing quietly, and walked past him without a second glance. At the door, I removed the server’s uniform and handed it to the manager who’d rushed over. “Sorry, I quit. Also, please tell Mr. Walker something for me.” I paused, turned back, meeting those bloodshot eyes of his, and said clearly, word by word: “Adrian, let’s get divorced.”

I didn’t give him time to react. Holding Lily, I disappeared from the hotel entrance. Back at the cramped, run-down apartment we were renting, I discovered a large bruise on my lower back from the collision. After bathing Lily and getting her to sleep, I sat at the creaking old desk and opened my laptop. I logged into a pen name account I’d abandoned ten years ago—”Lynn”. On the screen appeared a Reddit post from ten years ago: [Hello everyone, I’m Lynn. Starting today, I’m going to write a very, very long story.] Back then, I was spirited and ambitious, believing the future held infinite possibilities. Then I met Adrian. I fell in love with him, abandoned my pen name, and became the invisible shadow behind his spotlight. Now, it was time for “Lynn” to see daylight again. I spent the entire night organizing everything: all the manuscripts I’d ghostwritten for Adrian over the past decade, creative outlines, email correspondence, even recordings of our plot discussions—all sorted, categorized, encrypted, and packaged. These would be my sharpest weapons to bring him down. At dawn, my phone started vibrating frantically. Adrian. I didn’t answer. He persisted relentlessly—calls, texts, SnapChat voice messages, a bombardment of communication. Annoyed, I blocked him completely. Before long, knocking sounded at the door. I opened it to find Adrian’s haggard face. Dark circles hung heavy under his eyes, stubble covered his jaw, his designer suit was wrinkled—not a trace remained of the literary giant’s elegance. “Fiona.” His voice was hoarse, like sandpaper. “Let’s talk.” “There’s nothing to talk about.” I blocked the doorway, staring at him coldly. “Where’s Lily? How is she?” He tried desperately to see inside. “She’s sleeping. Keep your voice down.” “Fiona, I know I was wrong. I really know I was wrong.” He suddenly grabbed my hand, his eyes frighteningly red. “What happened last night was my fault. I shouldn’t have refused you money. I shouldn’t have let Rachel—” “So what?” I interrupted. “Are you here to apologize or to beg me not to divorce you?” He froze, seemingly unprepared for my directness. “I… I never wanted a divorce.” He lowered his head, defeat in his voice. “Fiona, after all these years together…” “Together?” I laughed as if I’d heard the world’s funniest joke. “Adrian, you want to talk to me about our relationship? Last year on Lily’s birthday, she had a 104-degree fever, crying for daddy. I called you over a dozen times—you turned off your phone. Later I found out you were in Switzerland skiing with Rachel and her son. This year when Lily was diagnosed with heart disease and the doctor said she needed immediate surgery, I begged you on my knees to give me the prize money to save her life. What did you say?” I mimicked his cold tone from that phone call: “‘Fiona, can you stop being so selfish? Mason has a cold and needs care! Lily’s surgery can wait—it’s not like she’ll die immediately!’” Each word was like a rusty blade, twisting repeatedly in my heart. Adrian’s face turned white as paper. He opened his mouth but couldn’t utter a single word. “Adrian, in your heart, my daughter’s life is worth less than your mistress’s son’s cold. Do you really think this marriage has any reason to continue?” I watched his devastated expression. My heart felt no satisfaction—only barren emptiness. “So save your speech. I don’t have time for this today.” I tried to pull my hand away and close the door. But he suddenly blocked it with his body and pulled out a crumpled paper from his pocket. A divorce agreement. “Fiona, look at this.” He unfolded it and held it before me. “I’ll sign it. I agree to divorce. The house, the car, all the assets under my name—I’ll give them all to you and Lily. I have only one condition.” He raised his head, looking at me with almost pleading eyes. “Don’t tell anyone about the ghostwriting. Please. I’m begging you.” I looked at him, at this agreement he’d drafted overnight, and suddenly felt utterly ironic. He still didn’t understand. He thought I was doing all this for money. “Adrian.” I took the agreement and, before his eyes, tore it to shreds, inch by inch. In his shocked gaze, I told him clearly: “Too late. I’ll get the money back, every cent. But not this way.” “What… what do you mean?” An ominous premonition rose in him. I smiled slightly and turned my phone screen toward him. On it was a Reddit post I’d just published under the “Lynn” account. [@Everyone, I’m the real author of “Return on a Snowy Night,” “River at Sunset,” and other books—Lynn. Tomorrow at 10 AM, I’m holding a press conference to present all evidence of ghostwriting.@Adrian Walker @Golden Pen Literary Award @Dolphin Publishing] The moment Adrian saw that post, his face lost all color completely.

“You’re insane! Fiona, you’ve lost your mind!” Adrian lunged like a cornered beast, roaring as he tried to grab my phone. I’d anticipated this. I stepped back and slammed the door shut with a bang, locking him outside. “Fiona! Open the door! Delete that post! Do you hear me!” He pounded frantically on the door, shouting, drawing neighbors who poked their heads out curiously. I ignored him, quickly grabbed the suitcase I’d already packed, woke Lily, and slipped out through the fire escape. I’d known he’d come, so I’d booked a hotel in advance. After settling Lily, I contacted Julian Smith, the country’s top rights protection attorney, and several media outlets known for in-depth investigative reporting. Julian’s team was extremely efficient. We met that afternoon. After carefully verifying all the evidence I’d provided, Julian pushed up his gold-rimmed glasses and gave me a definitive answer. “Ms. Monroe, rest assured. This case is a guaranteed win. Not only can we recover all the royalties and compensation you’re owed, but we’ll make Adrian and the publishing house pay a devastating price.” Looking at this calm, professional, powerful man before me, my anxious heart finally settled. That evening, the internet exploded. “Adrian Walker Ghostwriting Scandal” surged to the top of trending topics with unstoppable force, followed by a deep red “EXPLOSIVE” tag. Countless readers, fans, and onlookers flooded my Reddit. The comment section was absolute chaos. Some accused me of chasing clout, desperate for fame. [This is ridiculous. Adrian needs a ghostwriter? His talent is universally recognized!] [Another D-list nobody trying to climb up by stepping on a celebrity. Case closed.] [Screenshot saved. Waiting for Adrian’s legal team to destroy her.] But some rational longtime readers detected something in my writing style. [Wait… this “Lynn” person’s writing style seems so similar to Adrian’s early work. I remember Adrian became famous with “Return on a Snowy Night,” but his later books always felt like something was missing.] [I thought so too! Especially his recent book “A Dream of Life”—it felt so hollow, completely lacking his earlier brilliance.] [The more I think about it, the scarier it gets… If the ghostwriting is real, what have we been fans of all these years?] Public opinion split into two camps, arguing explosively. Adrian and the publishing house responded quickly. They jointly issued a strongly-worded statement, calling this baseless slander and defamation against me personally, and stating they would reserve the right to pursue legal action. Rachel was the first to share the statement, adding: [Truth will prevail. I believe in Adrian’s character and talent. Don’t let yourselves be deceived by people with ulterior motives.] Her “righteous stand” won her considerable praise and successfully redirected attacks toward me. [Rachel’s right! We believe in Adrian!] [This Fiona person is Adrian’s ex-wife, right? Getting revenge after divorce by throwing mud—how vicious!] [Probably didn’t get money in the divorce settlement, so now she’s bitter and wants to destroy Adrian.] Reading these comments, I just smiled. Let them have their last night of denial. After tomorrow, they’d know what it meant to fall from the clouds into hell.

The press conference was scheduled at a five-star hotel ballroom. When I arrived, the venue was packed with media from everywhere. Cameras and flashing lights created a blinding sea of illumination. Adrian, Rachel, and the publishing house president, Derek Ford, sat prominently in the front row. They’d clearly come prepared, cold smirks on their faces as if attending my public trial. Adrian had even brought his “hardcore fans”—dozens of people holding banners reading “Support Adrian, Resist Slander,” protesting outside the venue. I wore a crisp white suit, professionally made up, and walked calmly to the podium accompanied by attorney Julian. Camera flashes intensified instantly. Reporters swarmed like sharks smelling blood, thrusting microphones desperately toward me. “Ms. Monroe, you claim to be Adrian’s ghostwriter. What evidence do you have?” “Is this action revenge because of unequal divorce settlement distribution?” “Is there really conflict between you and Ms. Carter?” I didn’t answer immediately. Instead, I signaled for quiet. Once the venue settled somewhat, I picked up the microphone and spoke slowly, looking directly at Adrian in the audience. “Media friends, hello. I know you’re all full of questions today. So we won’t waste words—let’s go straight to the evidence.” The large screen behind me lit up. The first piece of evidence was the handwritten manuscript of “Return on a Snowy Night.” That familiar handwriting, yellowed paper, densely marked revisions—Adrian’s expression changed instantly. “These… these are just discarded drafts! They don’t prove anything!” Derek Ford shouted with forced composure, his obese body trembling with tension. “Is that so?” I smiled slightly and pressed the remote. A video began playing on the screen. It showed Adrian and me from five years ago. We were in the study, heatedly discussing the ending of “River at Sunset.” “No! The protagonist must die! Only tragedy can elevate this story!” Video-me was emotionally intense. “But Fiona, readers want a happy ending. Written this way, the book won’t sell.” Video-Adrian frowned deeply. “I don’t care! This is my work. I must preserve its integrity!” … This video clearly recorded our creative disputes and clearly proved I was the one with final decision-making authority. Adrian’s face had lost all color. Rachel beside him also widened her eyes, as if seeing me for the first time. “This… this is fabricated! It’s fake!” Rachel shrieked. “Fake?” My attorney Julian stood up, his voice steady and powerful. “Ms. Carter, we’ve had this video authenticated by the country’s most authoritative forensic institution. We can guarantee its authenticity. If you continue publicly defaming my client, we have the right to sue you for libel.” Julian’s response left Rachel speechless. She could only glare at me hatefully. I ignored her and presented the third piece of evidence. All email correspondence between Adrian and me over the past decade. Every book outline, every chapter manuscript—I’d sent them all to him via email. The emails also contained his various “guidance” on my drafts. For example: “Fiona, this plot drags too much. Can you make it more exciting?” “This female supporting character’s personality is unlikable. Readers won’t like her. Change it.” “The ending must be happy. Otherwise fans will riot.” These emails thoroughly exposed his complete literary ignorance combined with his love of giving orders. The venue erupted. Camera flashes targeted ashen-faced Adrian relentlessly. “Mr. Walker, what’s your explanation?” “Did you really have your ex-wife ghostwrite for you for ten years?” “Has your public persona completely collapsed?” Reporters surrounded Adrian. He was cornered, unable to speak a single word. Derek Ford, seeing things going badly, tried to pull Adrian away, but reporters blocked them completely. And I released the final, most devastating strike. An audio recording. Adrian’s voice, slightly drunk and boastful. “What bullshit talent? I can’t write a single word. But my wife loves me. I tell her how to write, and she has to write it. Readers actually think I’m some literary giant—it’s hilarious. They’re just a bunch of idiots I’ve been playing all along.” This recording was from years ago, when he’d gotten drunk and bragged to his buddies. I’d captured it accidentally. At the time, I’d thought it was just drunken rambling. I never imagined it would be useful today. When the recording finished, the entire venue fell silent. Even the fans protesting outside went quiet. Everyone looked at Adrian like they were looking at garbage. Adrian completely broke down. He collapsed in his chair, pale as death, muttering repeatedly, “It’s over… all over…” Just then, an unexpected person stood up. An experienced senior editor from the publishing house, Mr. Lee. He walked tremblingly to the podium, picked up another microphone, his voice filled with grief and anger. “I… I can testify. Everything Fiona said is true. All these years, the manuscripts Adrian submitted were full of typos and illogical. Our editorial department worked overnight to fix them. We all knew the real author was Fiona, but Derek Ford suppressed us for money, wouldn’t let us speak… I… I’m sorry to Fiona, and even more sorry to all readers everywhere!” After speaking, he bowed deeply to all the cameras. This bow became the final straw that broke the camel’s back. Derek Ford’s eyes rolled back and he fainted. Rachel screamed and tried to run but was surrounded by angry reporters and readers. And Adrian, under endless camera flashes and interrogation, was completely nailed to the pillar of shame like a stray dog.

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To be fair, Mom forced me—someone with a heart condition—to participate in the fitness test. At five hundred meters, my heart started hurting. I reached for my medication. The moment I pulled it out, Victoria Hayes, the class president, snatched it away and threw it aside. “Only five hundred meters and you’re already faking it? Just because your mom is the assistant principal doesn’t mean you can slack off.” She glanced toward Mom in the distance and said ingratiatingly, “Ms. Carter, Aria is trying to give up again. Don’t worry, I’ll make sure to encourage her to keep going.” Mom looked at me coldly, without a trace of sympathy on her face. “Everyone else can run. Why can’t you? Are you just being a drama queen? Today, you’re going to finish this fifteen hundred meters even if you have to crawl!” I gritted my teeth and kept going, but my chest felt like it was exploding. My vision gradually darkened. At one thousand meters, I collapsed on the track. I couldn’t get up anymore. My soul slowly rose into the air as I looked at Mom with guilt written all over my face. I’m sorry. I’ve disappointed you again. This time, I really can’t finish the fifteen hundred meters.

My heart felt like it was about to burst from my chest. My legs gave out and I fell flat on the ground. Victoria stopped beside me and kicked me with her foot. “Stop lying there. You’re dragging down the whole class!” Seeing that I didn’t move, she grabbed my upper body and pulled me up, then let go. My forehead hit the track with a dull thud. I knew it must hurt, but I couldn’t feel it anymore. After all, compared to the tearing sensation in my chest, this pain was nothing. “Who do you think you are, some delicate princess? Stop acting weak. It’s just fifteen hundred meters. Ms. Carter is watching right over there. Get up now!” A few classmates passing by stopped and glanced at me. “I heard she has a heart condition. Could she actually be dying?” “How is that possible? Ms. Carter is her own mother. If she really had health problems, would she let her run?” “Besides, if she were actually dying, would her mom have that expression? She looks like she wants to kill someone, not like she’s worried about her daughter.” They laughed mockingly and their footsteps gradually faded away. They say that when you die, hearing is the last sense to go. I floated in mid-air and looked up anxiously toward Mom. She was frowning, looking at me with disappointment and disgust. I instinctively lowered my head and murmured to myself. I’m sorry, Mom. I’ve disappointed you again. Mom walked over from the other end of the track and stopped about ten feet away from my body. “Aria! Stop faking it. I just saw your arm move. Get up right now.” I still didn’t move. Victoria came over and said quietly, “Ms. Carter, maybe Aria is angry? She’s so stubborn. How about we just forget about this fitness test?” I stood nearby, shaking my head desperately. Mom, how could I be angry? I just don’t have any strength left. I really just want to rest for a moment. Just one moment. But Mom couldn’t hear me. Seeing that I remained motionless, her expression grew darker. She walked up to me and kicked me hard in the stomach. My body swayed with the force of her kick, like a useless bag of garbage. “Get up right now! How long are you planning to lie here?”

I lay on the ground without moving, as if deliberately defying her. She trembled with rage, her face flushed red. “Aria, you’ve really outdone yourself. To avoid this fitness test, you’re actually playing dead with me?” “You’re disgusting. Just as disgusting as your father!” My heart clenched painfully. I sobbed once in grief. I raised my hand to wipe away tears, only to find my face was dry. So dead people can’t cry. Mom raised me alone. From the time I could remember, Mom repeatedly told me that Dad had betrayed their relationship and betrayed our family. Mom put all her energy into me. She knew my heart wasn’t good, so every morning she would get up early to run with me, doing adaptive training. But when I started high school, everything changed. Mom was a teacher at this school. She said she wasn’t just my mother, but also everyone else’s teacher, and she had to treat all students equally. To avoid suspicion, she gave the first-place chemistry competition award that should have been mine to second-place Victoria. To avoid suspicion, she forced me—someone with a medical exemption—to stand on the starting line for the fifteen hundred meter run. And now, she was saying I was like that man she’d hated her entire life. But Mom, I really wasn’t playing dead. I just couldn’t hold on anymore. Victoria bent down and grabbed my arm. “Aria, get up first. You’ve already run one thousand meters. Just hold on a little longer and you’ll be done.” She pulled hard on my arm. Maybe I was too heavy. She couldn’t pull me up and instead stumbled backward a few steps before falling on her butt. My body, half-lifted, fell heavily back to the ground. Another dull thud. Victoria froze, her eyes suddenly reddening. “Aria, there’s no need to take your anger out on me. I didn’t offend you. Why did you have to push me?” “Besides, Ms. Carter is doing this for your own good! Why can’t you appreciate her intentions?” She sniffled, tears streaming down her face. “You don’t know how much I envy you for having a mom like this.” Mom walked over, pulled Victoria to her side, and comfortingly patted her back. “It’s okay now. Don’t cry.” Then she turned to me, her gaze sweeping over my body. “Aria, is this how determined you are to defy me?” “Since you want to play dead, I’ll beat you awake today and see how long you can keep this up!” She reached down and grabbed my hair, slamming my head hard against the track. Once, twice, three times… Blood seeped out, spreading across the track. I floated nearby, watching her grab my hair and slam my head down again and again. My heart ached so much I could barely breathe. I remembered that Mom used to be so good to me. When I was little and accidentally scraped my skin, Mom would frantically find iodine and carefully clean my wound. Then she’d gently comfort me, “Aria, don’t be scared. It’ll get better soon.” But now, all the disgust and anger on her face poured out with each violent impact. As if the person lying on the ground wasn’t the daughter she’d carried for ten months, but an eyesore and a burden. More and more students gathered around to watch. “She’s definitely faking it. If she really felt bad, would Ms. Carter be this angry?” “She’s taking advantage of having a teacher for a mom, trying to get special treatment. Now she’s getting what she deserves.” “It’s just fifteen hundred meters. Is playing dead really necessary? So dramatic.” More and more students crowded around. Mr. Parker, the head of discipline, also appeared. Mr. Parker immediately told Mom to stop. “Ms. Carter, how can you hit a student?” Mom finally stopped and sighed lightly. “Mr. Parker, this is my daughter. She’s playing dead to avoid the fitness test.” “Spare the rod and spoil the child. Today I have to teach her a proper lesson!”

Mr. Parker saw the crowd of students and coughed lightly. “Ms. Carter, so many students are watching. Even when disciplining children, you need to use appropriate methods. Leave her some dignity.” With that, he turned and left. Mom looked down at me. “Still not getting up?” “Fine. You can lie there all you want. No one’s going to care about you!” She took a deep breath, suppressing the anger churning inside her. “Continue the fitness test. Don’t let one person hold up the entire class.” The sound of footsteps gradually faded. The murmuring voices also disappeared. No one looked at me on the track anymore. The sun grew stronger and stronger, beating down directly on my body. I still lay there lifelessly, the blood on my forehead gradually drying. Half an hour passed. The fitness test was completely over. Some students glanced my way, their eyes showing some reluctance. “Aria’s health isn’t good. Nothing really happened to her, right?” Victoria pursed her lips. “She’s totally faking it. Didn’t you see how angry Ms. Carter was?” “And she’s still lying on the ground playing dead.” Her close friends chimed in quietly, “Aria’s just been spoiled rotten. Taking advantage of her mom being assistant principal, she always steals the spotlight, and now she’s faking illness to drag down the whole class.” “Exactly. Does she really think she owns the school?” Victoria listened to these words, the corners of her mouth curling up slightly. Then she turned and walked toward Mom. She lowered her voice and said quietly to Mom, “Ms. Carter, just now some students wanted to help Aria up, but Aria said…” She paused, hesitant to continue. Mom frowned. “Said what?” “She said… she won’t get up unless you apologize to her.” Mom’s expression instantly darkened. “Ms. Carter, Aria has been lying there for a long time. If this continues, something will definitely happen. How about… you just apologize to her? It’s just one sentence. Get her up first, then deal with it.” The plastic water bottle in Mom’s hand deformed slightly from her grip. She clenched her back teeth, her voice filled with endless fury. “Who does she think she is? Wanting me to apologize to her? Completely useless!” “She’s taking advantage of the fact that I’m her mother to be this brazen!” “If she’s got guts, she can lie on the track all day!”

The few students who had been worried about me heard Mom’s words and simply turned away. No one looked at me anymore. The sky suddenly darkened. The glaring sunlight from moments ago was swallowed by thick, heavy clouds. It started to rain. Large raindrops pelted my face. The rain mixed with the dried blood on my forehead, flowing down my cheeks and into my mouth. Students on the track scattered, running toward the school building. As Mom passed by me, she said, “Get up soon. When you’ve figured it out, come to my office.” Then she turned and left too. In less than three minutes, there was no one left on the track except me. I lay there as rain poured into my ears, into my nose, into my mouth. My clothes were soaked through, clinging to my body, ice-cold and bone-chilling. But I couldn’t feel it anymore. My soul floated up and followed the students to the school building. Mr. Parker hurried into the office. “Ms. Carter, isn’t your daughter still on the track? It’s raining. Stop being angry and get her back inside. Don’t let her catch a cold.” Mom sat at her desk without looking up. “She’s clever enough. How could she let herself get hurt?” “She’s deliberately throwing a tantrum with me, waiting for me to apologize and personally invite her back.” Mr. Parker opened his mouth, finally sighed, and turned to leave. Half an hour later, someone knocked on the door. Mom relaxed for a moment, but when she saw who came in, she felt vaguely disappointed. Victoria and a few other students came in with some practice problems for Mom to explain. Mom showed no impatience. She patiently explained over and over until everyone nodded in understanding. I stood nearby watching her. She used to explain things to me patiently like this too. The office door suddenly sounded. Mom froze for a moment, then relaxed and leaned back in her chair. Victoria smiled. “Ms. Carter, it must be Aria coming to apologize to you.” The corners of Mom’s mouth turned up slightly, then quickly pressed down again as she put on a mocking expression. “Just now she was lying on the ground playing dead, and one rain shower washes away your backbone?” “Aria, if you know you were wrong, shout ‘I was wrong’ three times, then go apologize to everyone in class and say you dragged down the entire class!” The knocking continued. Mom frowned and got up to open the door. When she saw who was outside, Mom was shocked. “Mr. Hawkins, why are you here?” The principal’s face was grim. He asked, “Your class had the fitness test last period, right? That girl who collapsed on the track—is she from your class?” The panic in Mom’s heart was instantly replaced by disdain. She scoffed lightly and waved her hand. ” Mr. Hawkins, don’t worry. That’s just my daughter Aria. This child has been spoiled since she was young. She’s so stubborn. She’s faking a collapse to avoid the fitness test and throwing a tantrum with me.” “Don’t worry about her. When she’s done making a scene, she’ll get up on her own.” The principal’s expression grew even worse. He was about to speak when the school nurse rushed over. “Mr. Hawkins, this is bad. The girl on the track isn’t breathing.”

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At the engagement party, my fiancé Lucas and his mother suddenly pulled out a “Prenuptial Promise Agreement” and handed it to me. “Aria, since we’re about to get married, just sign this agreement.” I took the agreement and opened it: [The bride must guarantee she is a virgin before marriage and deposit $300,000 as a “virginity guarantee deposit” into the mother-in-law’s account] [If the bride is found not to be a virgin after marriage, the $300,000 will be fully forfeited, and the bride’s salary must be handed over in full to repay the groom’s brother’s mortgage] My mother trembled with rage. “Are you marrying a wife or buying a slave?” But Lucas just spread his hands with an innocent expression. “Ma’am, girls these days are too wild. If Aria really is a virgin, what’s there to be afraid of signing this?” Lucas’s mother’s wrinkled face scrunched together as she pressed her hand firmly on the back of mine. “Aria, don’t blame Lucas for being cautious.” “These days, girls out there have wild hearts—who knows who they’ve been with behind closed doors?” “The Miller family is a respectable household. Lucas’s brother Tyler is still in school, and we’ll need plenty of money going forward.” “If you put this $300,000 into my account, it’s your ‘proof of loyalty,’ showing that you only have the Miller family in your heart. I’ll definitely treat you like my own daughter from now on.” My mother was shaking with anger, her knuckles white from gripping her wine glass. “Lucas, Aria has been with you for three years. Hasn’t she been good enough to you? Why should Aria use her salary to fill the hole for your brother’s house?” Lucas took a sip of champagne, the alcohol spraying on my face. His refined features twisted. “Ma’am, please don’t get upset.” He set down his glass with a light clink. Then he turned to look at me, his eyes gentle. “Aria, our family is very traditional. Look at the relatives at this table—whose wife wasn’t a virgin before marriage? Three hundred thousand dollars buys peace of mind and reputation.” “If you’re really as pure as you say, what’s the difference between the money being in your mother’s account or my mother’s account?” “Unless…” He drew out the sound, his gaze sweeping over my chest and waist, making me nauseous. “Unless your body has long since lost that value.” The Miller family relatives around us started whispering, their voices growing louder. “Exactly, Lucas is such a steady young man. These terms aren’t excessive.” “Young people these days—who knows how wild they are in private?” “The Millers are honest people who’ve been burned before.” “Aria seems like a smart girl, but making such a fuss over signing something—how immature.” Lucas’s best man, Derek, shouted loudly. “Aria, just sign it! Lucas is giving you this opportunity because he loves you.” “Our Lucas is a manager at a publicly traded company. Girls lining up to date him could stretch to Paris. He’s being generous just waiting for you.” “This $300,000 is Lucas giving you face!” I looked down at the “Prenuptial Promise Agreement,” feeling suffocated. Just then, my phone buzzed in my purse. It was a confirmation message from my best friend Bella. I glanced at it, then took a deep breath and gripped the pen tightly. Seeing this, Lucas’s mother pushed the ink pad toward me, its bright red color glaring. “Sign it, Aria.” Lucas’s voice was low, carrying undeniable pressure. “The car convoy is still waiting outside. We still need to go to your house for the bride pickup ceremony.” “If you back out now, where will your father the university professor put his face?” I looked up and met Lucas’s eyes—so certain I wouldn’t dare resist. He was sure I would sign, sure I wouldn’t dare make a scene in this setting. He didn’t know that the DNA test report in my purse had been there for a week. I held the pen. The whole room fell silent.

“Lucas,” I spoke, my voice cold, “if I sign, can you guarantee you’ll treat me well for the rest of our lives?” “Absolutely!” Joy flashed in Lucas’s eyes as he reached out to put his arm around my shoulder. “As long as you’re obedient, you’ll have the final say in our family.” I dodged his hand, the pen tip touching the paper with a sound. Instead of signing my name directly, I quickly added a line of small text after the virginity clause. [If the groom conceals an illegitimate child before marriage or commits major deception, he must compensate the bride $3 million and leave the marriage with nothing.] Then I signed “Aria Carter” and slapped the agreement down in front of Lucas. Lucas froze, not expecting me to pull this move. His mother couldn’t read the fine print clearly. Seeing only that I had pressed my red thumbprint, she smiled broadly and snatched the paper to tuck into her clothes. “Good, good that you signed!” “Lucas, quick, pour Aria some wine. We’re all one family now!” But Lucas’s expression darkened. He stared hard at that line of text, the muscles in his jaw twitching. “Aria, what is this supposed to mean?” He lowered his voice, his tone angry. “Illegitimate child? Have you lost your mind? Everyone knows my character!” I picked up my wine glass and swirled it, watching the clear liquid. “Lucas, since you think purity and honesty are the foundation of marriage.” “Then I’m adding this clause. You shouldn’t have any objections, right?” “After all, if you’re innocent, what’s there to be afraid of signing this?” I threw his words right back at him. Lucas’s best man Derek leaned over to look, but Lucas shoved him away. “What are you looking at! Eat your food!” Lucas shouted once, then turned back with a forced smile. “Fine, Aria. You’ve got guts. We’ll see about this.” The banquet returned to its lively state. But no one at the main table was talking. My mother held my hand, her palm covered in cold sweat. She leaned close to my ear, her voice trembling. “Aria, let’s leave. We’re not going through with this wedding. This family’s heart is too black.” “Mom, it’s not time yet.” I patted the back of her hand. “Some accounts need to be settled in front of the whole world to be truly satisfying.” Lucas’s brother Tyler, that twelve-year-old boy, was grabbing at chicken drumsticks and eating with oil all over his mouth. He looked at me sideways, his eyes full of hostility and greed. “Aria, my brother said that from now on all the money you earn has to go toward buying me a house.” Tyler mumbled indistinctly. “My brother also said your family’s old house will have to be put in my name too. Because when you marry my brother, it becomes our family’s property.” My mother’s eyes looked ready to pop out. “Lucas, is this how you teach children?” Lucas’s mother slapped the back of Tyler’s head. “What nonsense is this child spouting!” Lucas covered his mouth and coughed, then picked up his glass to toast the next table. His steps were clearly somewhat unsteady. I watched his retreating figure, a smile playing at my lips. Tyler’s face looked exactly like Lucas’s. Especially the black mole behind the ear. Lucas said he was an “old-age baby” his mother had at forty. But what “old-age baby” would look so identical to his older brother? I stood up, excusing myself to go to the restroom. Pushing open the private room door, I saw Lucas standing in the shadows of the fire escape corridor, roaring into his phone. “Didn’t I just transfer you five thousand?” “How much more do you want? I’m telling you, today is my engagement day. Don’t push me!” A woman’s crying and shouting came through the phone, especially piercing in the empty hallway. “Tyler is your son too. You can’t just ignore him!” “If I can’t get that $300,000, I’m taking the kid to make a scene at your office!” I gripped my phone and pressed the record button. Lucas was panting in the shadows, his back tense. “Madison, listen carefully!” His voice was very low, his tone vicious. “That idiot Aria has already signed. As soon as that $300,000 comes through, I’ll transfer it to you immediately.” “I’m also figuring out the mortgage situation. Her salary card will be managed by my mom from now on—you won’t be short on child support.” “Now shut up and stay put with the kid!” The woman on the other end was still relentless. Lucas punched the wall with a dull thud. “Don’t talk to me about status. You were the one who insisted on having the baby. Now you want legitimacy?” “Dream on!” “Aria’s father is a professor. Her family has prestige and respectability. What can you give me?” “Besides demanding money, what else can you do?” I stood behind the door, dizzy with rage.

Three years. I’d been with him for three years. I thought he climbed so desperately because his family was poor. I thought he was so indulgent with his brother because he loved his family. Turns out I was just his cash cow to support his illegitimate child. Turns out that $300,000 “virginity deposit” was hush money for his ex-girlfriend! “Who’s there?” Lucas turned around, his gaze sweeping toward the corner where I was hiding. I didn’t hide. I pushed open the fire door and walked out, waving my still-recording phone. Lucas’s face instantly turned deathly pale. His whole body froze. “A-Aria? When did you get there?” He stammered, taking a step back. I walked toward him as he kept backing away with each step I took. “From when you called me an idiot. From when you said you’d use my salary to support your son.” “Lucas, you’ve calculated this so well—I could hear the clicking of your abacus from three floors away.” The panic on Lucas’s face quickly turned into something sinister. “Aria, give me the phone.” He reached out his hand, his tone dark. “You heard wrong. That was… that was Derek’s situation. I was helping him handle some trouble.” “Helping Derek handle an illegitimate child? Lucas, do you think I’m three years old?” I jerked backward, avoiding his lunging hand. “Tyler has the exact same mole behind his ear as you do.” “The DNA report is in my purse. How long are you going to keep pretending?” Lucas’s pupils contracted sharply—he hadn’t expected I’d actually gotten a DNA test. “You followed me?” “You actually dared to investigate me?” He shrieked, then glanced at the guests outside. He dropped to his knees in front of me with a thud, his hands gripping my thighs tightly. “Aria, I was wrong!” “It was an accident. I was young and foolish back then—Madison trapped me.” “I do love you! If I didn’t love you, why would I go to such lengths to marry you?” “I just wanted to cut ties with her, so I wanted to use this money to send her away.” “Help me, just this once. As long as we get married, I promise I’ll never see them again!” Looking at his tearful face, I only felt disgusted. “Let go!” I struggled desperately, my high heels leaving black marks on his suit pants. “Lucas, you make me sick.” “This wedding is off. Get lost!” “Off?” Lucas looked up, tears still on his face but his eyes ice-cold. “Aria, saying you want to call it off now—it’s too late!” “There are over a hundred relatives watching outside. Does your father’s reputation mean nothing?” “You signed the paper. That $300,000—you’re giving it whether you want to or not!” He suddenly stood up and grabbed my wrist, sending sharp pain through it. “Delete the recording and come back with me to toast.” “Otherwise, I guarantee you won’t walk out of this hotel today!” “Lucas, have you lost your mind?” Tears welled up from the pain, but I protected my phone with all my strength. “I have lost my mind—driven crazy by self-righteous women like you!” Lucas dragged me toward the private room. “You think you’re so high and mighty? You think your good background makes you special?” “In my eyes, you’re just an ATM!” “If you know what’s good for you, cooperate obediently. We can finish this act and go our separate ways afterward.” “But if you dare ruin my event, I’ll make your whole family pay!” Pushing open the private room door, the malice disappeared from Lucas’s face. He put on an expression of deep grievance. “Mom, Aria… she wants to call off the engagement!” Lucas called out with a sob in his voice, and the entire banquet hall instantly erupted.

Lucas’s mother had been bragging about that agreement to several relatives. Hearing this, she jumped up. “What? Call off the engagement?” “Aria, what’s wrong with you?” “You’ve already signed, already pressed your thumbprint—what are you making a fuss about now?” My mother rushed over and pulled me from Lucas’s grasp. Seeing the purple finger marks on my wrist, her eyes turned red. “Lucas, what did you do to my daughter?” “We’re calling off this engagement. It must be called off!” “Fine, call it off. But hand over the $300,000.” His mother stood with hands on hips, spittle flying. “And the money for this engagement party, and all the money Lucas spent on you these three years—not a penny less!” “You tramp, trying to run off with the money before even entering our door? No way!” The surrounding relatives also crowded around. Every one of them glared at me, pointing and gossiping. “The Carter girl is too outrageous. Who calls off an engagement at the engagement party?” “She must have someone else on the side and feels guilty.” “Just look at her—she doesn’t seem like a decent girl. Poor Lucas.” I broke free from my mother, walked to the main table, and grabbed the microphone. Lucas realized what I was about to do and rushed over like a madman to snatch it. “Aria, don’t you dare!” “Stop him!” Though my mother didn’t know what was happening, she still blocked Lucas’s path with all her might. Derek and several groomsmen also surrounded us, the scene descending into chaos. Lucas’s mother rushed toward my purse, shrieking. “A report! Lucas said she has some report in her purse.” “It must be a report about her and some wild man!” She ripped open my leather purse, contents scattering everywhere. A blue folder fell to the ground, its cover reading: [Paternity Test Report]. The entire room fell silent. Lucas’s mother froze. She couldn’t read, but she recognized photos. Inside the report was a comparison photo of Tyler and Lucas drinking water. Bella had secretly taken it. “What’s this?” “Isn’t that just Lucas and Tyler?” His mother muttered, her eyes evasive. Seeing this, Lucas completely lost it. He knew that once the truth came out, the image he’d carefully cultivated at work would be completely destroyed. “Aria, I’ll kill you.” He roared, randomly grabbing a heavy fire extinguisher from the table and swinging it down at my head. “Aria, watch out!” My mother screamed and lunged to shield me. I stood in place, a smile playing at my lips, not dodging at all. At that moment, an electric current suddenly sounded from the banquet hall’s four speakers. Then Lucas’s calculating voice echoed throughout the venue. [That idiot Aria has already signed. As soon as that $300,000 comes through, I’ll transfer it to you immediately…] [Tyler is your son too. You can’t just ignore him…] The fire extinguisher stopped less than four inches from my head. Lucas froze mid-air. His face turned from red to blue, then to ashen gray. All the guests—over a hundred people—gaped, staring hard at the big screen. On the screen, where wedding photos had been playing, now scrolled video of Lucas in the fire escape corridor, roaring into his phone. It was Bella. I’d arranged for her to go to the control booth beforehand, waiting for exactly this moment. “Lucas,” I spoke: “Hmph, $300,000 virginity deposit. Do you think your life is worth that price?”

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On our seventh wedding anniversary, the police called me to come to the station. A couple had reported that my company’s products gave their child food poisoning. The wife was Mary. The husband was Terry. I froze, because my husband’s name was also Terry. When I arrived at the police station, I saw Terry with his arm around a woman. He lit a cigarette: “I have a three-year-old child with her. That’s how it is.” I smiled and pulled out the divorce papers I’d prepared four years ago: “You can sign them now.” Mary left the police station in tears, carrying her son. Because I’d argued her into silence. Faced with my legal knowledge, she broke down crying in frustration. When we got home, I strode ahead while Terry followed with a frown: “Could you have a better attitude? What kind of ability is bullying a mother and child!” “Bullying?” I whirled around: “There’s nothing wrong with my company’s food. She obviously fed her child something he shouldn’t have eaten and wanted to frame me to get compensation! Can’t you see that! “Who’s bullying who!” Terry frowned. I stepped forward: “You know perfectly well how clean my formula is, yet you still helped them report me.” I laughed coldly, looking at him with mockery: “You really haven’t changed.” He let out a sigh: “Lisa, sometimes you really lack empathy.” I froze. “The child is only three. She’s a first-time mother. When he got food poisoning so badly, of course she panicked. “Instead of being understanding, you seized on a single mother’s small mistake and wouldn’t let it go. “You…” He looked me up and down. His lips suddenly curved into a mocking smile: “You’re not fit to be a mother. No wonder you can’t understand how parents feel.” I stared at him in disbelief. The next second—crack! My palm landed hard across his face. “Terry! Why can’t I be a mother! Don’t you know?!” Terry seemed to finally remember, lowering his eyes to avoid my gaze. But I wouldn’t let him off: “Back in school, when you got drunk and fought with those guys, they came at you with a broken bottle. “I blocked it for you! The bottle stabbed my abdomen, that’s why I can’t get pregnant!” Guilt flickered across Terry’s face. I smiled bitterly: “If I’d known you were fighting those guys over Mary that day, I would never have saved you.” Terry’s throat bobbed: “…I’m sorry… I said the wrong thing.” “You’ve said a lot of wrong things these past seven years.” I looked at him: “Frankly, you just don’t take me or our marriage seriously. “Otherwise, you wouldn’t have said something like that without thinking. “Have you ever said the wrong thing to Mary?” He fell silent. I answered for him: “Of course not.” “I…” “Terry.” I cut him off: “Don’t make excuses. “Not taking it seriously means not taking it seriously, just like when I said I’d give you one last chance.” I looked at my name on his chest. I laughed coldly: “You just paid lip service to cherishing our last opportunity.” “I’ve already taken things underground with her. What more do you want?”

I looked at him in disbelief. He seemed irritated: “These past four years, have you seen any trace of them in my life? “No, right?” I couldn’t believe it: “Terry…” “Enough, Lisa.” He frowned: “Originally, if you hadn’t been so petty and unreasonable about this, you wouldn’t have found out and damaged our relationship. We could have lived together just fine.” People really do laugh when they’re extremely angry. This complaint against my company should have just been a matter for the legal department. I didn’t need to get involved. But I recognized the complaint number as familiar—it was Mary’s. I investigated personally and discovered Terry’s lingering connection with her. Terry sighed: “Just pretend you didn’t see this. “Lisa, don’t destroy the relationship we’ve worked so hard to repair.” I laughed. I slammed the divorce papers on the table: “If you really valued this relationship, you wouldn’t still be in contact with her!” “What are you doing?” Seeing the words “Divorce Agreement,” Terry’s breathing visibly caught. “Put that away!” He tried to tear up the agreement, but I pressed it down firmly. “Terry, I told you—four years ago was our last chance.” “Lisa…” “Three days.” I stared at him: “Give me an answer.” “Lisa! Lisa!!” I left without looking back. He didn’t call me back. I left him alone with the agreement, his fingers trembling slightly. I waited two days. Terry didn’t respond. He didn’t reply to my messages either. I decided to go home in person to push for an answer. But just as I reached the door, I heard the sound of drinking inside: “Terry, it’s the last day for that divorce agreement. You really not going to do something about it?” “Do something?” Terry laughed coldly: “She’s being unreasonable! She should give me an explanation!” What? My hand froze on the doorknob. “We’ve been married seven years. The past is the past—bringing Mary home was admittedly too much. But these past four years we’ve been more in love than any couple. Even if we fight, she shouldn’t threaten me with divorce.” Terry waved the agreement: “Hasn’t she thought about how much this tantrum hurts our relationship?” I bit my lip. His friend glanced at the door, his breathing catching, but chose not to alert anyone. Instead, he asked another question: “Terry, what if she’s serious?” “Serious?” Terry laughed: “We’ve risked our lives for each other. It’s not that easy to break apart.” “Then why did you have a child with Mary? I thought you’d really turned over a new leaf.” Terry clinked glasses with them: “When you have a life-and-death love, you don’t need to be as careful as in the beginning. “We saved each other’s lives. She and I can never be separated in this lifetime.” I took a sharp breath, my heartbeat racing with anger. I quietly closed the door. It seemed it was time to go through litigation. When I had my people prepare the lawsuit materials, Terry’s message came through on the third day: [Instead of wasting time making trouble with me, you should quickly compensate Mary for her losses] After that, he sent a court summons—a lawsuit filed by Mary. She was suing my company’s food safety, claiming it caused her child’s food poisoning. I hadn’t expected that after I made her cry in court that time, she still wouldn’t give up. But this persistence had to have someone backing her. I called Terry: “You helped her file?” Terry chuckled softly without answering. The answer was obvious. “What if I don’t pay?” “Lisa, you should think carefully. The legal team appearing in court this time is from my company.” My breathing caught.

“Why be so stubborn? Just admit it.” I gripped my phone: “This company was built by my grandfather. It’s accumulated so much goodwill over a hundred years. Admitting fault means destroying the brand image Lisa Group has built?” Terry sighed: “Must you make things difficult for them?” “You’re the ones making things difficult for me!” I gritted my teeth: “Mary fed her child something he shouldn’t have eaten!” Terry was silent for a moment. When he spoke again, his voice had turned cold: “Then do as you wish.” The dial tone buzzed in my ear. I stood there gripping my phone. Julian from the legal department looked at me with concern: “Lisa, Terry Group has sent us a lawyer’s letter. Their team has never lost a case domestically or internationally. We…” I clenched my fist: “Fight it. I’ll be right there with you.” Julian’s eyes lit up. On the day of the hearing, when I appeared as both defendant and lead attorney, Terry was visibly stunned. He didn’t know I had a law degree. My phone buzzed—a message from him. I ignored it and faced Terry Group’s legal team head-on. Throughout the proceeding, Terry’s expression grew increasingly dark. He discovered his legal team wasn’t invincible. And that I’d been hiding my legal abilities all along. When the court dismissed Mary’s lawsuit, Mary broke down crying in the courtroom. I glanced coldly at Terry. His expression was unreadable. But as we left the courtroom, he caught me at the door. He smiled meaningfully: “Ms. Lisa, you’re far more capable than I imagined.” “What, Mr. Terry planning to appeal for your mistress?” “No.” He smiled: “You’re so capable, why would I oppose you?” I looked at him in confusion. He was already leaving: “Then I wish Ms. Lisa great success in her career.” I frowned: “What is he planning?” That night I didn’t go home from the office. I checked the warehouse, inspected safety and fire prevention, making sure there wasn’t a single vulnerability. Only then did I feel at ease. Julian left work with me: “Thank goodness you were there, otherwise those litigators would have swindled all our profits! “Terry is so heartless, actually having his team claim all our operating income as compensation for Mary! “When it was clearly Mary who fed her child the wrong thing! The favoritism is too obvious!” “Exactly! Whose husband is Terry anyway!” Julian quickly covered her subordinate’s mouth, carefully watching my expression. I just stiffened slightly, then smiled: “It’s fine. Let’s go.” Julian’s face brightened: “Okay!” Just as we left the factory grounds, a huge explosion came from behind. Julian immediately shielded me. Hot wind rushed past. I whipped around. Above the factory—flames shot into the sky!

“Dad! Mom!” I rushed back like a madwoman. Julian and the others grabbed me: “Lisa! It’s dangerous! You can’t go in!” “My parents’ belongings are still in there!” “Lisa!” They held me tighter. Fire trucks and patrol cars arrived one after another. The scene was cordoned off. Everyone held me back, not letting me get close. My breathing shook: “My parents’ belongings are still inside! Everything’s in there! Let me go!” “Even so! They’re gone now anyway!” The rescue workers pleaded earnestly. I stared at his soot-blackened face. All my strength to rush forward vanished. I turned around. In the distance, a Rolls-Royce. A familiar face appeared behind the window. Terry held a cigar between his fingers, watching my side with satisfaction. In the passenger seat, Mary held her child, finally smiling. Terry got out of the car. “You humiliated Mary in court. You should give her some compensation, right?” I couldn’t speak. “Although all the inventory is gone, I’ll pay to replace it afterward. Don’t blame her—it was all my idea.” My throat tightened painfully. Inside were all the traces left by my parents and grandfather. When I was five, Mom held me while she and Dad took me through it all. Pointing at each piece of equipment, telling me the story of the brand’s founding. They stroked my head: “The company will be yours someday. Take good care of it.” “Dad, Mom, I’m sorry…” Everything went black. The world spun before my eyes. Terry’s smug, leisurely expression froze in that moment. “Lisa!” Before I lost consciousness, I heard his panicked voice. When I opened my eyes again, my abdomen ached with a sinking pain. I covered it, looking blankly at the doctor and Terry. The doctor sighed: “The baby is gone. Caused by excessive grief.” “Baby…” I propped myself up: “I was pregnant?” The doctor nodded: “Two months.” I fell back onto the bed. Two months… these past two months, I’d been busy with the lawsuit. So those times I felt dizzy and nauseous weren’t just from being too tired… “Your body already has difficulty conceiving. Why weren’t you more careful? “In the future, I’m afraid you really won’t be able to get pregnant.” I closed my eyes. Tears streamed down my temples, soaking the entire pillow. After the doctor left, Terry gripped my hand tightly. “Lisa, I’m sorry, I didn’t know… I…” His voice caught. His forehead pressed against my hand, his shoulders trembling slightly: “I’ve been hoping for this child for so long… It’s all my fault… I should have noticed you were pregnant… “But at that time I was still preparing for the lawsuit against you…” Indeed, both he and I had been hoping for a child of our own. Now it was gone. There would never be another. Because he wanted to vent Mary’s anger. “Lisa, I’ll send them away. This time I’ll really send them away.” His phone rang. He answered, his expression freezing instantly. “I’ll be right there.” “Where are you going?” I looked at him with red eyes: “Mary, right?” He hesitated: “It’s not her. The child has a fever.” “What about my child!” My nails dug deep into his palm and the back of his hand. He paused, then pried my fingers open one by one: “I’ll come back.” I covered my aching abdomen, laughing through tears. I had no child anymore. But he did. Mary did too. When Julian came to see me, I’d already fallen from the bed. She quickly helped me up: “Lisa! I’ll get the doctor right away!” “No need.” I stared straight ahead: “Discharge me. Take me home.” In front of Terry’s and my marital home, I wore a warm coat, holding a torch in my hand. “You’re really going to burn it?” I tossed the torch onto the pile of kindling. My voice was flat: “Yes.” Terry had carried me into this place once. Those beautiful memories were too painful to look at. If I was leaving, I’d burn the past clean. “Should we say goodbye to Terry?” “No need.” The private plane was already waiting on the tarmac. I handed her the divorce papers: “Just give him this.” The plane took off. The fire still hadn’t died. I didn’t look back. I’d never come back again.

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While performing a medical examination on my boyfriend’s best friend Lydia, I discovered she had cancer. To help her raise money for surgery quickly, I took the initiative to offer to buy her house. But just two days after I moved in, her cancer miraculously disappeared, while I was diagnosed with late-stage cancer. She filed a complaint at the hospital, saying I had forged medical records to trick her into selling me her house. “You forged medical records just to scam my house away from me. Aren’t you afraid of karma?” I denied it repeatedly, pulling up all her medical records and even showing the bank transfer receipts. But she just sneered. “Those can all be faked. If I really had late-stage cancer, how do you explain my miraculous recovery?” My boyfriend Pedro also frowned and accused me. “I checked with the bank. You haven’t even paid Lydia yet!” I couldn’t defend myself and was ultimately fired from the hospital. Even all my assets were seized by Pedro as compensation for Lydia. But I died in agony from a cancer outbreak. When I opened my eyes again, I had been reborn, back to the day Lydia wanted to sell her house. “If only someone would buy my house, then I could survive!”

Hearing the familiar hint in Lydia’s words, I realized I had been reborn. In my previous life, I caught her hint and took the initiative to offer to buy her house at a price above market value. She knelt before me excitedly, thanking me over and over. But just two days after I moved in, she went to the medical office to file a complaint against me. She said I had deliberately forged her late-stage cancer medical records to buy her house at a low price while she was desperate. “The moment she took over my house, the director told me I wasn’t sick at all. How can that be such a coincidence?” “Pedro already said how much she wanted her own house but couldn’t afford one. Now isn’t this the perfect opportunity?” I was fired from the hospital. Even when I produced evidence to prove my innocence, it was useless. In the end, I was left homeless, dying in agony on the street with no one caring. And I could never figure out how I, who had always been healthy, could suddenly be diagnosed with late-stage cancer. This time, no matter what she says, I won’t buy her house again! I pretended not to understand her hint, putting my hands in my pockets and smiling faintly. “Why don’t you post your medical records and property deed online? There are so many kind people out there. As long as your price is right, someone will definitely be willing to buy.” Lydia’s smile froze. She stood up abruptly, her face showing the humiliation of being insulted. “Dr. Betty, I just want to sell my house. I haven’t reached the point where I need to be humiliated by strangers online!” “You’re insulting me! I’m sick, but I’m not a beggar. If it has to be like this, I’d rather not sell the house.” I said nothing more. Seeing my silence, the anxiety on Lydia’s face intensified. She changed tactics. “Pedro’s girlfriend is also my friend. We have such a good relationship. You surely can’t bear to see me struggling with money, right? How about…” She drew out her words, her eyes drifting toward me. I nodded, took out several business cards from real estate agencies from my drawer, and pushed them toward her. “These are all well-known agencies that sell properties quickly. If you list with all of them simultaneously, you’ll definitely sell soon.” Lydia was choked by my words, her face full of unwillingness and irritation. After a long pause, she finally spoke, her voice sharp and urgent. “Are you deliberately pushing me into a pit of fire? Those unscrupulous agencies are all eyeing my commission fees.” “If I give them the money, how will I pay for treatment?” “What I meant was, as long as you buy it, I’ll…” I immediately cut her off. “You’d better think of another way. I don’t have money.” Lydia’s face instantly darkened. She grabbed my hand, her tone full of entitlement. “You don’t have money, so you can’t buy my house? I’m not asking for much, just seven hundred thousand. You’re telling me you can’t come up with that?” “It’s still early. Come with me right now to transfer the ownership!” With that, she pulled me quickly toward the door. I lowered my eyes, watching her eager appearance, and sneered. Was she trying to force a sale? I yanked my hand back forcefully. Lydia’s eyes instantly filled with tears. “I know you look down on my illness, but my house isn’t sick!” “I’m begging you not to force me to list with an agency! I haven’t raised enough for my surgery yet. I really can’t afford the agency fees!” Before I could speak, Pedro rushed in from outside. He supported the swaying Lydia and frowned at me accusingly. “Betty, Lydia just wants to sell her house. Why are you being so aggressive?”

I put on a stern face and adopted a businesslike attitude. “As her attending physician, I’m only responsible for treating and saving patients. I have no obligation to help her raise money for surgery.” But Pedro didn’t take my words to heart. He waved his hand impatiently. “You want to buy a house, Lydia wants to sell a house. It’s a win-win situation. Why are you making such a fuss? You even insist she list with an agency.” “You’re just petty, always scheming against your own people.” Watching his complaining expression, I was dazed for a moment. In my previous life when Lydia complained about me, he had the same impatient look. “I’ve known Lydia for over ten years. She never lies. You should just admit it.” “Apologize to Lydia and give her back the house. Consider the purchase money as compensation for her, and she’ll definitely forgive you.” “Sacrificing a little benefit is better than losing your job.” He defended Lydia at every turn and never believed me even a little. A surge of impulse rose in my chest, and I couldn’t help but speak. “Pedro, let’s break…” But before I could finish, Pedro pulled out a set of keys from behind and showed them off to me. “Good thing Lydia said she wanted to surprise you and already transferred the house to me, otherwise you would have lost your house!” He casually tossed the keys on my desk without another glance at me, instead urging me to transfer the money quickly. All color drained from my face. My mouth opened and closed several times before I finally found my voice, asking Pedro with a trembling voice. “You bought Lydia’s house?” Pedro nodded nonchalantly. I quickly threw the keys back. “I don’t want this house. Since you love being charitable, you keep it and live there!” Pedro’s face turned from green to white. After a long pause, he squeezed out a sentence. “We’re going to get married eventually. Can’t we just use it as our wedding house? Besides, I’m just helping a friend. Can you not be so petty?” “Hurry up and transfer the money to Lydia. Don’t delay her surgery!” I didn’t speak for a long time. Lydia dropped to her knees in front of me with a thud, raising her voice. “Dr. Betty, please give me the money! I’m waiting for this money to save my life!” “You can look down on my house, but you can’t refuse to pay after the house has been transferred! I’m waiting for this money for surgery!” Pedro chimed in, every word implying I was untrustworthy and unrighteous. The patients who had been waiting outside the door heard this and began accusing me one after another. “I don’t dare let a doctor without basic human morality treat me. Who knows if she’ll also try to take my money?” “Exactly. She can refuse to pay now. Who knows if next time, if we ask too many questions, she might deliberately prescribe the wrong medicine and kill us!” “With this kind of doctor in the hospital, I don’t dare come here for treatment anymore! Who knows if the hospital will cover for her too!” As soon as this was said, the commotion grew louder, demanding the hospital fire me. The smile on Lydia’s face gradually became smug. She held her phone in front of me, chin slightly raised, signaling me to pay. I straightened my clothes and calmly opened the recording on my phone. “From beginning to end, I never agreed to your request to buy the house, nor did I say I would buy it. Why should I pay?” “Just because your family is poor doesn’t mean you can morally blackmail people here, right? If everyone else follows your example, wouldn’t I have to buy everyone’s house?” The noisy hallway suddenly fell silent.

Lydia’s eyes reddened. “Betty, I know you’re worried other patients will follow my example, which is why you kept refusing me, but now the keys are in your hands. Stop denying it!” Pedro also echoed her, telling me to just admit it. He smiled confidently, as if as long as he spoke, I would definitely compromise. I sneered. “Dream on!” Pedro’s face instantly darkened. He slapped me across the face. “Betty, the money’s already been given. Can you stop being so unreasonable?” “I’m telling you, today you’re taking this house whether you want to or not!” “Lydia already transferred it to your name. You have no right to refuse!” I covered my face, watching them determined to force the house on me, and my thoughts drifted. In my previous life, when I was diagnosed with cancer, it was already late-stage. The director lamented that if only I had discovered it earlier, it wouldn’t have been untreatable. But I had never shown any symptoms. Could it really be late-stage cancer? Suddenly, my phone rang. It was the director sending me my test results. “Betty, you’re perfectly healthy. I think you’ve just been overworked lately, imagining you have cancer. Just get more rest.” The weight in my heart lifted. But the next second, a deeper confusion welled up. If I didn’t have cancer, then what about the late-stage cancer in my previous life? I pretended to stay calm and looked up at Pedro with a smile. “Since you both insist I take the house, I’ll take it.” Just as their expressions relaxed, I changed my tone. “However… put the house in your name. After all, you paid for it with your money. It’s only reasonable to put it in your name.” Pedro’s expression stiffened, his eyes evasive. “This house was mortgaged using your identity information. I can’t change it to my name.” He paused, his tone changing from humble to righteous. “We’re going to be family anyway. Just write off this money!” In my previous life, when he used all my savings as compensation for Lydia, he said the same thing. “Everything I’m doing is atoning for your sins. Why are you so ungrateful?” “Betty, you owe Lydia. You can never repay her in this lifetime! Let alone this little money!” Thinking of this, I couldn’t contain my anger anymore. I kicked Pedro’s knee. “You used my identity to get a mortgage to buy your best friend’s house? Since you love outsourcing charity, why don’t you take the house and the mortgage?” “You can afford the house money! Either put the house in your name, or…” I paused and turned to Lydia with a smile. “Return every cent of the bank transfer to me! I don’t care whether your surgery happens or not.” Hearing this, Pedro turned his face away without a word. But Lydia cried breathlessly. “Betty, you’re making such a fuss because you think my house is dirty! I’m sick, but my house isn’t sick!” “If I die, will you accept my house? Then I’ll satisfy you!” With that, Lydia ran quickly toward the window and, with force, climbed onto the windowsill, preparing to jump.

In an instant, the entire hallway filled with successive cries of alarm and blame. “It’s just using your identity to get a mortgage to buy a friend’s house. You’re going to get married eventually. What’s wrong with family members taking on a mortgage? The house is in your name anyway.” “Exactly! To prove her house is clean, she’s about to jump to her death. Are you satisfied now?” “If I were you, I would have accepted the house long ago! Such good fortune falls in your lap, you should be thrilled!” Pedro glared at me and pushed me aside hard, catching Lydia around the waist. Seeing her safe, Pedro breathed a sigh of relief. He turned and berated me. “This house is tied to Lydia’s life. You’re just losing some money and taking on debt, but Lydia is losing her life!” “Even if you really don’t want this house, you shouldn’t force Lydia to return the money! Don’t you know you can sell it yourself?” Hearing this, Lydia’s crying, which had been subsiding, grew louder again. She grabbed Pedro’s hand, crying breathlessly, shaking her head repeatedly. “You can’t let Dr. Betty sell it. I’ll only give my house to her. I won’t agree to anyone else.” “I don’t have much time left. Please just grant me this last wish!” I looked around. Everyone wanted to tear me apart and devour me. Since Lydia insisted I accept the house, I wanted to see what was so important about this house that she had to force it on me! After thinking it through, I stopped resisting and agreed to take the house. Seeing my agreement, Lydia immediately stopped crying. She blinked and made a request hesitantly. “Dr. Betty, I’m glad you don’t mind. But I want to see you move in with my own eyes…” Before she finished, Pedro agreed on my behalf. “Whatever conditions you state, whether it’s a thousand or ten thousand, Betty will agree!” Lydia’s eyes lit up, immediately pushing further. “Then Dr. Betty, I want to receive videos from you every day showing you living there, just to satisfy my attachment to the house.” “I won’t watch much. I just want to see you sleeping, to feel like I’m experiencing it with you.” But she still wasn’t satisfied and continued, demanding that Pedro and I sleep in the same room. But I had to sleep on the bed while Pedro slept on the floor. I agreed through gritted teeth, but became more guarded. Now Lydia laughed outright, eagerly pulling me toward the hospital exit, saying she wanted to help me move. Watching Pedro move my luggage into the master bedroom, Lydia’s tightly clenched hands finally relaxed. She smiled while helping me organize things, her instructions never stopping. “Dr. Betty, I bought this bed at a high price. It guarantees high-quality sleep. You must use it well!” “Especially this mattress, it’s a matching set with the bed, and it fits perfectly. Don’t change it unless necessary.” I nodded carelessly, paying no attention to her words. Before leaving, Lydia, pale-faced, repeated those words again. She paused, as if kindly reminding me. “Dr. Betty, you should pay more attention to your health lately. What if you also get cancer? Don’t be like me, only discovering it so late. If you feel any discomfort, make sure to get checked immediately.” My heart surged with alarm. How did Lydia know I would get cancer? But the next second, remembering the test results on the report, my heart settled. My gaze unconsciously swept over the walls and furniture, everything looking freshly renovated. A suspicion arose in my mind. Could my cancer be related to this house? I carefully recalled Lydia’s behavior in forcing the house on me and her parting words. I became increasingly certain there was something wrong with the house. I called in professionals to test the entire house for formaldehyde, but the result showed zero formaldehyde, nothing wrong with the house. To verify my suspicion, I took tools and searched every corner of the house, but found nothing. Just as I was puzzled, I suddenly remembered my best friend’s earlier joke. “Sleeping in a sick patient’s bed, aren’t you afraid of bad luck? There might be a curse.” At the time, I laughed at her superstition, but this sentence awakened me. What if it really was a problem with the bed? My gaze slowly fell on that bed, and I yanked the mattress off onto the floor. Looking at what was revealed under the mattress, I couldn’t help but laugh coldly. I finally understood how Lydia’s late-stage cancer disappeared!

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I flew two thousand miles to surprise my wife. Instead, I was greeted with an invitation. “Welcome to the wedding of Mr. Xavier Grant and Ms. Mara Cole.” Her groom wasn’t me. But her wedding dress was one I had chosen, and the wedding plan was one I had designed. When she saw me, she accused me of not knowing when to let go, claiming it was all just business. Does a performance require passionate kissing? I didn’t argue. I just turned around and took a hard drive with me. It contained all the original design drafts I’d created for them over the past four years. What Mara didn’t know was that three months later, at a bidding presentation, she’d be on her knees in the snow, bankrupt, begging me for ten dollars just to buy a meal. Lucas POV To surprise my wife, I flew to the island without telling her. The taxi had barely stopped when the hotel’s greeting system sent me a text message: “Welcome to the wedding of Mr. Xavier Grant and Ms. Mara Cole.” My hand froze around the gift box. Mara Cole was my legal wife of four years in a secret marriage. Xavier Grant was her first love from college overseas, and also the star designer at my studio. Just last night, Mara had been packing her luggage. “I’ll be inspecting resort projects for a while. The clients are difficult to deal with, so I can’t get away. I’ll make up for our anniversary properly when I get back.” She complained that Xavier was clumsy and needed her to look after him. I believed her. Like an idiot, I helped her organize her clothes and told her she was working hard. She was working hard, hard enough to organize a grand wedding between inspections. I stepped into the lobby. White veils billowed in the cold sea breeze. The décor looked very familiar. A month ago, I’d stayed up three nights straight in my study to draw up this exact plan. At the time, Mara had leaned against the doorframe, holding coffee and pleading with me. “The client wants a dream wedding. Xavier’s run out of inspiration. Help him out.” I joked that this design was worth fifty thousand dollars. She hugged me and acted cute. “Helping him is helping me.” Turns out I was the free wedding planner for her own wedding. “Sir, do you have an invitation?” The receptionist stopped me. I was wearing a hoodie and jeans, carrying a small box, completely out of place among the suited guests around me. “I’m an old friend of Mara’s.” The receptionist stepped aside. The banquet hall was brilliantly lit. Mara wore a mermaid-cut wedding gown and looked so beautiful she seemed like a stranger. We’d been legally married for four years, but we’d never had a wedding or any celebration. The reason was that we had to keep a low profile during the startup phase, and I was behind-the-scenes personnel who didn’t need formalities. Right now, she stood under the spotlight, gazing at the man across from her like he was the only one in the world. Xavier Grant, nothing but an empty-headed pretty boy, spoke with deep affection. “Mara, we’ve missed so much. Today, I can finally hold your hand in front of our friends and family…” Applause thundered. Guests murmured about what a perfect couple they made, praising Xavier’s so-called brilliance. Some even claimed the island project was his work. My nails dug into my palms. Every award Xavier had ever won was something I had created. His breakthrough work was my rejected draft. His award-winning design was something I’d destroyed my stomach staying up late to finish. Even the stage beneath his feet was my creation. In the front row sat Mara’s mother, Diana, wiping away tears of joy. She took the generous support payments I sent every month, and now she sat there without a care in the world. Next to her sat my business partners, people who ate the afternoon tea I bought, now applauding as my wife married someone else. Everyone in the world knew-except me, the fool left in the dark. What inspection? What fake business marriage? All excuses. I could see it clearly: the genuine happiness radiating from Mara’s face. The officiant called out loudly, “The groom may now kiss the bride!” Mara turned her head. Her gaze cut through the crowd and landed on me. Her smile froze instantly on her face. She pushed away Xavier, who was about to kiss her, in panic. The bouquet in her hands fell to the floor. “Mara?” Xavier looked confused. Mara ignored him. She stared at me, her face deathly pale. I looked at her and expressionlessly raised the delicate gift box in my hand. Then, as she watched in horror, I let it go. The box hit the floor. The necklace inside probably broke. Just like this absurd four-year marriage. I turned and walked out of the banquet hall without looking back. Behind me came commotion and the rapid clicking of high heels on the floor. “Mara! Where are you going?” If this had been yesterday, if she had chased after me like this, I would have cried with emotion, thinking there was still a place for me in her heart. But now, I just found it ridiculous.

Lucas POV I hadn’t even reached the elevators when someone grabbed my arm hard. “Lucas! Stop right there!” Mara was out of breath, holding up her wedding dress train, her updo coming loose. There was no guilt on her face-only furious indignation. “Why are you here? Did you follow me?” I laughed bitterly. I’d caught my wife at her wedding, and her first reaction was to interrogate me. “Mara,” I looked at her like she was a stranger, “what’s today’s date?” She froze. “October sixteenth.” “Four years ago today, we registered our marriage. You said the company had something come up and left me on the side of the road. Today I flew two thousand miles to surprise you, and you gave me an even bigger surprise.” Mara’s expression stiffened for a moment, then reverted to her usual assertiveness. She straightened her hair, all business. “Can you use your brain like an adult? This is a business strategy! The clients value family values. Xavier is our brand face. For a contract worth tens of millions, we had no choice but to put on an act.” “An act requires inviting your mother? Exchanging rings? Smiling that happily?” “That’s because we had to make it realistic! How else could we fool the clients if we didn’t make it look real?” Mara raised her voice. “Who do you think I’m working myself to death out here for? It’s bad enough you don’t trust me. Now you’re sabotaging everything. If this project falls through, can you afford to compensate for it?” She was even trying to turn this around on me. “You’ve disappointed me so much. If you had even a little sense of the bigger picture, you wouldn’t cause trouble at such a critical moment.” Watching her mouth run on and on, my thoughts suddenly drifted far away. I thought back to four years ago. Back then, I was recognized as a genius in the architecture program at a university overseas. I’d won international awards before even graduating. And Mara was just an ambitious but mediocre rich girl. She started a studio but couldn’t land any projects. She cried in the rain out of desperation. I was the one who shoved the design drawings I’d labored over for half a month into her hands and told her to enter the competition. That one time made her famous overnight. Later, she said she loved me. She said I was her source of inspiration. I believed her. I gave up the opportunity to pursue advanced studies at a prestigious architectural firm for her sake, willing to be the person behind her. Over these four years, all the studio’s core proposals came from me. The credit always went to Mara or Xavier. She always said I had an introverted personality and was suited to working behind the scenes and making money. She also said Xavier had a good image, so he should be the public face. So I became the nerd who only knew how to draw. In Xavier’s words, an assistant. They took my work and accepted awards. They enjoyed the flowers and applause while I waited for her to come home with cold coffee. I thought it was sacrifice. Turns out it was just pathetic. The last trace of love in my heart went cold. I looked at that haughty expression on her face, as if she thought she controlled everything and was certain I couldn’t leave her. But what’s valuable in this industry isn’t the studio-it’s the person who creates. “Are you finished?” Mara frowned. “What’s with that attitude?” I looked at her calmly, suppressing the turmoil in my eyes. “Mara, your dress zipper isn’t closed properly.” She instinctively reached for her back. I stepped back, creating distance. “Go back. Don’t keep the groom waiting.” “You’re done making a scene?” She looked suspicious. “I’m done. Disrupting a wedding is immoral. I wish you both a lifetime of happiness.” I turned toward the elevator. “Go back to the room and wait for me! I’ll explain tonight!” she ordered from behind me. No need. I don’t need her love anymore either. As the elevator doors closed, I took out my phone and looked at the date on the screen. Today was our wedding anniversary. I opened my messaging app and found a contact-Chloe, my college classmate and also a divorce attorney. The last time I’d contacted her was four years ago. She’d sent me a message cursing me out back then. “Lucas, if you’re going to be someone’s ghostwriter for a woman, don’t call me your friend anymore.” I hadn’t replied at the time. My finger hovered over the screen. I took a deep breath and relied. “I’ve made up my mind. Is it still possible to pursue my dream now?” I waited a few seconds. The screen showed she was typing. Chloe only sent back a voice message. I could hear wind in the background. “Lucas, I’ve been waiting for this call for four years. Tomorrow at ten in the morning. Same old place.” I closed my phone and looked at my reflection in the elevator mirror. No one knew that my dream was to open a design studio that was truly my own. Back then, I hadn’t been worn down by life yet. All I thought about was architectural ideals. Later, I hid that dream away and had Chloe guard that small flame for me. I thought I’d never rekindle it in this lifetime. I exited the chat and casually opened my cloud storage. Inside were all the original drafts and revision records from four years of working for Mara. No matter how much I loved her, as a designer’s professional habit, I had kept the source files.

Lucas POV That same day, I went straight to the front desk to check out. I threw the carefully prepared anniversary gift into the lobby trash can. I was pulling my suitcase at the hotel entrance, about to hail a cab, when Mara chased after me. She blocked the taxi door, her face iron-gray. “Lucas, where are you going?” “Back to New York.” I opened the car door and shoved my suitcase into the back seat. “What are you throwing a fit about?” Mara lowered her voice, annoyance in her tone. “You just walk away like this-where does that leave my reputation?” I paused, then turned to look at her. “That’s your banquet, not mine.” Mara grabbed my sleeve, her nails digging into my flesh. “Lucas! When will you stop? I already told you this is just an act! I didn’t hold it against you earlier, and now you’re pushing your luck?” She took a deep breath, seemingly trying to suppress her anger. “I know you’re upset, but you need to understand my difficulties. Xavier is a public figure. The studio has relied on him as our public face these past few years. If things go wrong today, millions in prior investment will go down the drain. As a member of the company, can’t you be more mature?” Over these four years, whenever I tried to claim my rightful due, she would use “the bigger picture” to suppress me. As if my unwillingness to sacrifice made me immature and childish. I didn’t even have the desire to argue. “Mara,” my tone was calm, “I’ll have my lawyer draft divorce papers. For the specific property division, my lawyer will contact you.” Mara clearly hadn’t expected that. Her pupils contracted slightly, a flash of shock crossing her face. “Divorce?” She crossed her arms and laughed coldly. “Without me, you can’t even pay rent in New York. Your mother is still lying in a nursing home. Who’s been paying her medical bills every month? You?” One major reason I’d agreed to stay in the background was that my mother had suddenly fallen ill and urgently needed a large sum for surgery. Mara had provided that money. That was also why, no matter how much she exploited me these four years, I’d silently endured it. I felt I owed her. But she seemed to have forgotten that over these four years, the drawings I’d produced, the projects that won bids, the value I’d created had long surpassed those medical fees. “That’s none of your concern.” I opened the car door and got in. “This divorce is final.” Seeing I was serious, Mara’s expression finally changed. Her eyes turned vicious. “Lucas, don’t regret this! According to the prenup, you won’t get a single cent of the studio’s shares! Since you want to make a scene, fine-make one! When you calm down and can’t afford medicine, don’t come crawling back to me!” She pulled a document folder from her bag and slammed it onto the passenger seat. “I was going to let you rest on the island for a couple days, but since you want to leave, go back and work! The Brooklyn library project-final draft is due next week.” “Xavier will be entertaining clients these next few days and won’t have time to draw. Go back and finish the proposal. If you don’t do it right, don’t blame me when your mother’s medication gets cut off next month!” I looked at the folder on the passenger seat. This was a key city project-also critical to whether Mara’s studio could go public this year. At a time like this, she could still take for granted dumping work on me and threatening me with my mother’s life. I picked up the document folder. Outside the car, Mara looked at me with contempt, probably thinking I’d compromised for the money. “After you finish this project, I’ll transfer fifty thousand dollars as your closing fee. Driver, go!” She slammed the car door for me, then turned and walked away without looking back. The car started. I opened the folder and pulled out the materials inside. This was a project costing over a hundred million dollars. The design requirements were extremely high. Xavier had struggled with it for two months without getting approval. The client had already issued an ultimatum. If I walked away now, I could vent my anger temporarily, but I’d lose all claim to the four years of work I’d put in and the benefits I deserved. Besides, a simple divorce agreement wouldn’t be enough to completely bring them down. I needed evidence. That evidence was all on the company’s internal network, in Mara’s safe. I had to go back. Not only that. I had to make this project absolutely flawless. Because only if they thought I was still under their control would they reveal their weaknesses. “Sir, to the airport, right?” the driver asked carefully. “That earlier… was that a fight?” I resealed the folder and leaned back in my seat, closing my eyes. “No fight.” I said calmly, “To the airport.”

Lucas POV Three days after returning to the company, I clocked in on time. The office was covered in banners, and the front desk displayed a poster of Xavier and Mara kissing on the island. Several female colleagues huddled together sharing chocolates, their conversation loud. “Mara and Xavier have such a great relationship.” “The island wedding cost two million dollars. They really know how to spend.” I walked through the crowd toward my corner workstation. My spot was next to the printer, my desk piled with discarded paper. No one paid attention to me. “Lucas is here?” Derek walked over holding a box of chocolates and casually tossed it onto my keyboard. “Mara said everyone gets a share. Brought back from the island. A few hundred bucks a box.” I didn’t look at the chocolates. I pressed the power button on my computer. Seeing I wouldn’t engage, Derek turned to the female colleague beside him and raised his voice. “Some people are just born to do grunt work. We eat souvenirs while they have to work.” Laughter rippled around me. I logged into the company’s internal network. Derek was Xavier’s assistant. I ignored him. I opened the Brooklyn Library folder. The initial draft inside was logically chaotic and completely unusable. Obviously Xavier couldn’t handle the client and dumped this mess on me. I turned off the auto-sync function and changed the file path to my private network drive. This time, the company wouldn’t have backup copies of the source files. “How’s the proposal coming?” Mara’s voice came from behind me. The room instantly went quiet. Colleagues lowered their heads. Mara stood by my workstation, staring at my screen. “Just started.” I answered. “Hurry up.” She tapped the desk. “Friday presentation. Xavier has a sore throat, so you’ll present.” In the past, Xavier always handled these occasions while I assisted from below. Having me go this time-I guessed the project was too difficult and Xavier was afraid of exposing himself. “Got it.” Mara pointed at the chocolates on my keyboard. “Why aren’t you eating them? You think they’re beneath you?” “I don’t like them.” She sneered and turned to leave, but stopped after two steps. “My mom’s sixtieth birthday banquet is this weekend. If the proposal passes, I’ll let you make an appearance.” Attending Diana’s birthday party as her legal spouse had become a reward. “No need,” I looked at the screen. “I’m busy.” Mara’s expression darkened. “Suit yourself.” She clicked away in her heels into the general manager’s office. Ten minutes later, Xavier arrived. He walked straight to my workstation, bent down, and lowered his voice. “Did you watch the whole thing that day? My wedding was pretty good, wasn’t it? Thanks for the rough draft.” I stopped my mouse and turned to look at him, mockery in my voice. “It was good.” Xavier looked triumphant and straightened up. “Work hard. That’s the only place you’re useful.” He patted my shoulder, whistling as he walked away. I pulled out a tissue, wiped the spot on my shoulder he’d touched, and tossed the crumpled tissue into the wastebasket by my feet.

Lucas POV I went to the break room with my water cup. Derek was leaning against the coffee machine, holding a half-eaten box of gift chocolates. When he saw me come in, he shifted to block the doorway. “Lucas,” he looked me up and down, “I heard you went to the island? Why didn’t you go in for a drink before coming back?” I walked around him to get water. Derek followed, leaning against the water dispenser. “Stop pretending. Everyone in the company knows you have a crush on Mara. Look at yourself. Xavier is an overseas student-he’s got talent and looks. You’re just meant to draw. It’s complete wishful thinking.” The water overfilled and some spilled, scalding my hand. I ignored him and turned to leave. Derek called out loudly behind me. “Stop having these inappropriate thoughts. They’re a perfect match. People like you can only be background decoration.” Back at my workstation, Xavier was sitting on my desk. He was holding an architectural model in his hand. It was a small model I’d carved by hand the year I first joined the studio, given to Mara as a birthday gift. Later, Mara thought it was tacky and casually tossed it in the company’s junk pile. I picked it back up and kept it in the corner of my desk. Xavier was playing with it, disgust on his face. “What is this piece of junk?” He looked at me as I walked back. “Lucas, your taste has always been this terrible. Having something like this on the desk lowers the class of the entire studio.” I put down my water cup and reached for it. “Give it back.” Xavier raised his hand, dodging me. A smile played at the corner of his mouth. His wrist relaxed, and the model dropped into the trash can by his feet. “No need to thank me.” He dusted off his hands and jumped down from the desk. “I’m just helping you clear out the garbage. From now on, only keep work-related things on your desk. Don’t clutter it with this nonsense.” Low laughter came from around us. Xavier straightened his collar, didn’t even glance at me, and walked away.

Lucas POV At three in the afternoon, my phone rang. I walked to the window at the end of the hallway to answer. “Lucas,” my mother’s voice was a bit weak, “it’s getting cold these days. You and Mara need to take care of yourselves.” I gripped the phone tightly. “I know. How are you feeling?” “I’m fine. I just miss you both. Has Mara been busy lately? If she is, don’t make her come see me. You young people need to focus on your careers.” My mother was always like this, afraid of causing me trouble. I was about to speak when I heard the sound of high heels behind me. Mara was walking out of the elevator with her arm linked through Xavier’s, followed by several administrative staff who’d just finished a meeting. She saw me. I saw her too. Mara stopped, her gaze sweeping over the phone in my hand, a playful expression crossing her face. She didn’t avoid the situation. She turned to Xavier and said, “Xavier, this weekend is my mom’s birthday party. It’s your first time attending as my partner. I’ve already prepared your gift. You need to make a good impression.” Her voice echoed in the empty hallway. Silence on the other end of the phone. A few seconds later, my mother’s puzzled voice came through. “Lucas? Was that Mara’s voice just now? What is she saying about a partner? What first time?” I felt blood rushing to my head. Mara stood not far away and tightened her grip on Xavier’s arm. Xavier smiled cooperatively. “Don’t worry, I’ll make sure your mom is satisfied.” “Lucas? What’s going on? Is Mara talking to someone else?” My mother’s voice grew anxious. I took a deep breath and turned away. “It’s nothing. She’s rehearsing lines. The company has a theater activity recently.” “Oh, you scared me. I thought…” “I have a meeting. I have to go.” Without waiting for my mother to say more, I hung up directly. Behind me came the sound of Mara and Xavier’s laughter. They walked into the elevator. I looked at the darkened phone screen, my fingers gripping it until my knuckles turned white. I put away my phone and turned back to the office. The progress bar on my computer had just finished. File transfer complete. Mara, I’m going to give you a gift you’ll never forget.

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I used to believe that after fifteen years of growing up together, he would be my only destiny. Until I saw him put his student’s name where mine should have been on our marriage papers. Scholarships, favoritism, trust. He gave them all to someone else. He even let me be falsely accused, my future destroyed. That’s when I realized I was never his first choice. So I turned around, went abroad, and reclaimed my dreams. Later, when I stood at the peak of success, he came to me, saying he regretted everything. But my new husband pulled me close. “You didn’t choose her back then. Now it’s not your turn anymore.” Iris Hart POV After winning six consecutive international awards, the name “Sebastian Kane” became legendary in academic circles. At only twenty-five, he wasn’t just Stanford University’s youngest professor. He’d also claimed the highest honor in academia. The day his fame skyrocketed, he posted a photo of us holding our marriage license application, captioned “Soulmates finally united.” Before I could even share it, I scrolled down and saw a comment that made my heart stop. “Sebastian’s getting married, but the county clerk sent ME the notice. Now that’s love!” The replies flooded in. “Maybe YOU’RE his true love?” “Sebastian’s handwritten over thirty thousand experimental data points, accurate to eight decimal places without a single error. Yet on the most important form of his life, the one where you list an emergency contact for marriage, he put YOUR name.” “You two should just go get married already!” I looked closer at the username. The poster was none other than Sebastian’s intern, River Lawson. Afterward, Sebastian explained it was just an accident. I believed him. But not long after, he turned around and gave the only full-ride graduate scholarship to River. Then he pulled me aside to apologize. “I’m sorry, Iris. River grew up in poverty. If this application fails, she’ll never have another chance to get ahead in life.” He gripped my hand tightly, his eyes full of guilt. “But I’m also thinking about us. Even if you never achieve anything, you’re still the one I love.” The next day, River-the supposedly excellent student Sebastian praised-secretly reported me to the school for academic fraud, got my graduation status revoked, and had me ordered to withdraw. When they want to pin something on you, they’ll always find a reason. During the long investigation period, my heart grew colder and colder. I’d worked every single moment to keep up with Sebastian’s pace. But in the end, the full scholarship was gone, my dream of studying abroad shattered, and even basic graduation became uncertain. Gradually, I understood-I was no longer Sebastian’s first priority. If that was the case, then I chose to let them have each other. In my moment of deepest despair, my advisor threw me a lifeline. “I can fund your study in France, on the condition that you join my research team. But… are you really ready to leave everything behind and go abroad?” “I’m willing.” In the dead silence of night, I heard my own resolute answer. My father, Marcus, and mother, Elena, had always been open-minded-they would support my decision without hesitation. I had nothing to worry about. As for Sebastian… perhaps our fate ended here. I still remembered meeting Sebastian when I was six years old. He’d been quiet and withdrawn since childhood, guarded around everyone-except me. He was willing to open up to me, even if just a little. Sebastian’s father, Richard, and mother, Caroline, were always busy with work, often leaving him at my house. The two of us grew closer over time. In middle school, he waited downstairs for me every day before and after school. In high school, he carefully organized study notes just for me. In college, he kept up the habit of having breakfast with me every morning. Everyone said we were made for each other. I believed it too. At least, I believed it until River appeared. At first, Sebastian kept his distance from this clingy intern. But then one day, River single-handedly solved a math problem left behind by an old professor. Though I couldn’t see much reaction from him, I noticed he gradually stopped pushing her away when she followed him around. We’d fought about this intern several times. He always said he just recognized talent and couldn’t bear to see a genius buried. Whether it was really about recognizing talent or something else, I didn’t want to guess anymore. The truth behind it all was probably something only he knew. The engagement photos were already taken, and the marriage registration was still just scheduled-everything could still be undone. “I’ll have the application process completed within a month.” The person on the other end of the call was satisfied with the answer and hung up in good spirits. I didn’t sleep all night. Early the next morning, Sebastian knocked on my door. “There are a lot of wedding details we haven’t finalized. Richard and Caroline invited Marcus and Elena to dinner together, and they asked me to pick you up.” I instinctively tried to decline. “Actually, I can’t today…” “Marcus and Elena are already there.” He cut me off, gently taking my hand as he always did, his usually expressionless face now wearing a tender smile. I’d once been captivated by that smile for so long. Unfortunately, it no longer belonged to me alone. Inside the Kane house, Caroline warmly welcomed me and sat me down, casually calling out, “The pizza and roast in the oven are almost ready-Sebastian, go check on them!” Sebastian headed straight into the kitchen. His phone suddenly started ringing nonstop. I glanced at it and caught sight of the glaring name “River Lawson” on the screen. At the dinner table, both sets of parents were chatting happily when the shrill phone ringtone cut through the harmonious atmosphere again. Sebastian answered the call, his expression instantly changing. “I’m sorry, Marcus, Elena. Something urgent came up at school. I need to go.” My instincts told me it wasn’t that simple. After making an excuse to leave the table, I secretly followed him. Then I watched Sebastian enter the back warehouse of a convenience store. River was wearing a dirty work uniform. The moment she saw him, she rushed over eagerly but accidentally tripped on something. She fell straight into his arms, and their lips happened to touch. He didn’t pull away. They both froze in that moment, their eyes locked for what felt like forever.

Iris Hart POV My face went pale as I stared at the scene, frozen. My heart suddenly felt like it had cracked open, cold wind pouring into the fissure, chilling me until I couldn’t stop trembling. River quickly jumped up, her face flushed as she lowered her head, a sly smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. “You… how did you get here? Didn’t you say you had something really important today?” Sebastian ruffled her hair, his voice helpless yet indulgent. “It’s nothing major. You said you were hurt-let me see how bad it is.” River deliberately hid her right hand behind her back. “It’s nothing, nothing-just a small cut.” Sebastian caught sight of the wound on her finger and pulled a Band-Aid from his bag, crouching down to carefully apply it for her. I couldn’t help but think of the past. I used to get bumps and scrapes all the time as a kid. At some point, Sebastian had made it a habit to always carry Band-Aids in his pocket. He’d once told me they were exclusively mine. But now… I felt dazed and instinctively stepped back, accidentally kicking something. They both looked over at once. I turned and ran. “Iris!” He caught up to me, breathless, and we both stopped at the same time. I didn’t turn around, just listened to him scramble to explain. “It’s not what you think. That was just an accident.” “I know.” I took a deep breath, staring hard at the ground. He seemed flustered. “Iris, I didn’t mean to lie to you. I was just afraid you’d be upset if you found out.” I turned around, my expression calm. “I just happened to pass by. I’m not upset. Where you go is your freedom.” River had also caught up, looking at me cautiously. Sebastian seemed afraid I’d scold her and quickly stepped in front of her. “Now that we’ve cleared up the misunderstanding, let me take you home.” I didn’t want to keep arguing, so I nodded. “River, you should head home early too.” He turned back to tell her. She smiled bitterly and shook her head. “Sebastian, you two go ahead. I still have goods to move. If I’m not done by ten tonight, my supervisor will dock my pay.” Sebastian’s brow furrowed in displeasure. “You’re new part-time staff-why are they making you do all this?!” “I can only blame myself for being poor.” She wiped away tears and started heading back to the warehouse, but Sebastian grabbed her wrist. “I’ll help you move them.” He said to me, “Iris, go home and rest early. Don’t wait up for me.” Watching him walk away side by side with River without a second thought, I just stood there, looking more and more alone. Most of the streetlights in the old district were broken. The road was dark and cold. I walked alone, shivering. Suddenly, I heard a low growl. A large dog was baring its teeth at me, staring me down. Fear made my legs weak. I turned and ran. A sharp pain shot through my calf, and blood started running down. A kind stranger helped drive the vicious dog away. By the time I dragged my injured leg to the district hospital, dawn was nearly breaking. After getting the rabies vaccine, I turned my phone back on. Missed calls and messages started popping up one after another. I silently turned off the screen and closed my eyes. “Iris! Iris!” A familiar voice rang out. I thought I was dreaming. When I opened my eyes, it really was Sebastian’s anxious face.

Iris Hart POV “I saw your phone location and rushed over. How did you get hurt?” I didn’t even lift my head, my tone light and casual. “Couldn’t get a cab in the old district. Got bitten by a stray dog on the road.” Hearing this, his eyes immediately reddened, full of heartache and guilt. “I should’ve thought of that. I’m so sorry.” “I’m fine.” My tone remained calm. A few days later, after I’d fully recovered, Sebastian showed up uninvited, carrying something. He handed me an elegant gift bag with a hint of flattery. “I was wrong the other day. Maybe looking at a plant will cheer you up.” I opened it to find a pot of mint. A sharp pain suddenly pierced through my chest. He’d always had an exceptional memory-how could he forget I was allergic to mint? Seeing my silence, he assumed I was still angry. He pulled out two tickets. “The zoo you wanted to visit-I managed to get tickets. Let’s go right now, okay?” Without waiting for me to refuse, he grabbed my hand and pulled me out the door. When we got to the zoo entrance and I saw River getting out of the car, I turned to leave. He gripped my hand tightly. “I asked a friend to get the tickets and they happened to have two extras. I just didn’t want them to go to waste.” Using the excuse of accompanying me to the zoo, his eyes never left River. After a few exhibits, they were practically glued together. Watching them, they looked like a couple madly in love, while I was just an outsider. At the bird show area, the host was introducing albatrosses. “Once they choose the right mate, they stay together for life! Now let’s pick some audience members to participate!” The spotlight landed on River. She looked at Sebastian hesitantly. “Sebastian, I’m too scared to go up alone. Can you come with me?” He glanced at me briefly, then took her hand and went onstage. The host assumed they were a couple and had them complete challenges: staring into each other’s eyes for ten seconds, eating cookies, and the final task-a kiss. Amid the cheering crowd, Sebastian pressed his hand against her head and kissed her. My nails dug deep into my palms. My heart felt like it was being sliced with a knife. The air tasted unbearably bitter. When the crowd dispersed, he stopped me. “With so many people watching, if I’d just left her there, people would’ve talked about her.” I didn’t say anything more and headed to the next exhibit. He nervously followed, trying to apologize. Suddenly, screams erupted nearby. An escaped brown bear was charging toward the crowd, swinging its massive paws. I was pushed back by the surging crowd and suddenly lost my footing. River and I both fell into the artificial lake at the same time! Sebastian reached out his hand and swam toward me with all his might. “Sebastian!” A shout made him freeze mid-motion. He instinctively changed direction and swam toward River instead. The icy lake water swallowed me. I struggled desperately, staring hard at his retreating back as I gradually lost consciousness. My body felt heavy as lead. When I opened my eyes, I saw him with red-rimmed eyes, gripping my hand. “I’m sorry. It’s my fault for not taking better care of you.” I thought he was going to explain why he’d abandoned me to save her, but he carefully avoided the subject, not saying a word about it. His phone vibrated frantically. “Excuse me, do you still have fever medicine in stock?” It was River’s weak voice on the other end. “River?” “I’m sorry, Sebastian. I called the wrong number trying to buy medicine.” She hung up in panic. Sebastian, usually so composed, immediately panicked. He glanced at me a few times before standing up. “River’s home alone. I’m afraid she…” “Go ahead.” My face was pale, but my expression remained calm. Watching him leave without hesitation, I was consumed by grief. He used to feel heartbroken for half a day just seeing me frown. Now he could abandon me without a second thought, even when I was seriously injured.

Iris Hart POV On the day I was discharged from the hospital, I unexpectedly received an invitation from my advisor. An opportunity to attend an academic summit. I became part of the setup crew for the venue. As soon as I walked in, I saw River all dressed up, along with Sebastian. “Iris?” When he saw me, his smile stiffened. He quickly lowered his voice. “When did you get discharged? Why didn’t you tell me so I could pick you up?” I pushed his hand away. “It’s fine. Go do what you need to do.” A shriek came from nearby. River screamed and stood up. Her arms were covered in red welts. “I think I’m having an allergic reaction.” I turned to look. Sebastian, ignoring everyone’s stares, scooped River up in his arms and rushed out. The venue fell silent. People whispered to each other, some even casting pitying glances my way. My cheeks burned with shame as I quickly left. I’d barely gotten home when Sebastian showed up at my door. He glared at me, his face full of anger. “With so many people at the venue, how is it that she was the only one who had an allergic reaction to that chair?!” “What are you implying?” My brow furrowed. “You’re one of the people in charge of setup. This has to be connected to you!” My heart trembled. I couldn’t believe it. “You’re accusing me?!” Fifteen years together, and he was actually accusing me over something completely fabricated. River, who’d been hiding behind him, stepped forward timidly. “Just forget it. I’m sure Iris didn’t mean it.” “River, you’re too kind. That’s why you think everyone else is kind too!” His anger intensified. I laughed coldly. So in his eyes, I was malicious? He grabbed my wrist tightly and dragged me all the way to the venue to confront me. When he finally let go, my wrist was already covered in bruises. “The summit still has one more day! I want you to replace every single chair tonight with something River isn’t allergic to.” “I refuse.” I stared at him, enunciating each word. He nodded as if driven to the edge. “If you don’t replace them, believe me, I’ll throw this ring away right now.” The moment I saw him hold up the ring, my expression changed. That was the ring my grandmother had left me as a wedding blessing. And he was using it to threaten me! My heart turned to ash. Under their watchful eyes, I pathetically hauled out a thousand chairs and replaced them with a new batch from storage. After I finished arranging them, he finally let me go. “I have one more condition. Give me back the ring,” he said. “No problem. It’s just a ring. But if there’s a next time, we’re calling off the marriage license.” I clutched the ring, my palm aching. There won’t be a next time. We’ve already canceled it. Sebastian, I will never love you again. I’ll be leaving soon.

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