My husband said he was a wanted fugitive. He claimed he didn’t want to drag me down, so he turned himself in, urging me to remarry. My heart ached for him. I scrimped and saved, providing for our son while waiting for his release. It wasn’t until my hair turned white that I saw him strolling down the street, hand-in-hand with his long-lost love, lavishing her with Hermès and Chanel bags. Only then did I realize that his imprisonment was a charade, a calculated move to escape me and our family. I opened my eyes again, and I was back. Back to the very day my husband pretended to be a wanted fugitive. I quickly called the police and handed over every piece of incriminating evidence in the house. So, you wanted to play the part of a fugitive, did you? Then enjoy rotting in jail for the rest of your life. 1. “Beth, I’m so sorry. After all these years of marriage, there’s something I’ve kept from you. But I can’t bear the guilt any longer.” My husband, Eddy Thorne, gazed at me across the dining table, his face a mask of profound sorrow. My heart skipped a beat, and my gaze swept around the room. I was back. I had been reborn. Reborn to the exact day my husband faked his imprisonment in my previous life! Looking at his utterly phony expression, I felt a surge of nausea. Eddy continued, burying his face in his hands, tears streaming down. “Beth, the truth is, I’m a fugitive. When I was eighteen, I was foolish and broke. I robbed someone, and in the process, the homeowner died, leaving his wife and child utterly destitute. Now, I want to atone for that sin.” He gripped my hand, tears welling in his eyes. “You’ll support me, won’t you, Beth?” Our son, Leo, and my mother-in-law were both seated at the table, but neither of them showed the slightest hint of panic. I almost laughed. So, they all knew, and I was the only one kept completely in the dark! In my past life, to atone for my husband’s supposed sins, I’d humbled myself every holiday, going to their home, bowing and apologizing. The little money I had for our children was spent on gifts for that family, while I subsisted on meager meals day in and day out. But only on my deathbed did I learn that the “victim” I was meant to atone for was none other than his long-lost love, Veronica Hayes. And the ‘widowed mother and orphan’? His illegitimate child. The thought of how self-satisfied I’d been, believing I was doing something meaningful for my imprisoned husband, while they were secretly laughing at me, mocking my foolishness in their messages, filled me with incandescent rage. My mother-in-law immediately clutched her chest, slapping her thigh dramatically. “A curse upon our house! A total disgrace! Our family, so respectable for generations, how could you turn out like this, you good-for-nothing! A life on your hands! Come on! Your mother will take you to turn yourself in right now.” With that, she hauled Eddy to his feet and began to pull him towards the door. 2. Eddy gripped my hand, his voice thick with feigned emotion. “I’m sorry, Beth. From now on, you’ll have to take care of Leo all by yourself.” He turned to leave. My heart hammered. Feigning sorrow, I said to my mother-in-law, “Mother, even if Eddy has done something wrong, he’s still your son.” “How about this? I’ll take Eddy. I happen to have a friend who’s a lawyer; they could see if there’s any chance of a lighter sentence for Eddy’s situation.” That was a complete fabrication. I had no lawyer friends. I was just trying to throw them off. “No!” The words were barely out of my mouth when both my husband and mother-in-law protested simultaneously. My mother-in-law stammered, her face flushed with embarrassment. “Aren’t you suffering from back pain today? The journey might be bumpy. We can go by ourselves.” I asked, feigning suspicion. “Mother-in-law, why are you so against me going? Is it because Eddy hasn’t committed any crime at all, and this is just a scheme to fool me?” Our son, Leo, lowered his head, averting his gaze, unable to utter a word. My mother-in-law, however, looked furious, accusing me of trying to abandon my husband and find an excuse to leave him. Eddy, meanwhile, put on his most aggrieved expression. “Beth, I know it will be hard for you to raise Leo alone, but how could I possibly lie about something like this?” He gritted his teeth, as if finally making a difficult decision. “Beth, after I’m gone, you can remarry. Just let my mother raise Leo. I don’t want to burden you. You’re still so young; you can find someone better. The divorce papers are already on the table.” “Daddy… I don’t want you to leave me.” Leo finally began his act, clutching Eddy’s leg. Eddy wore an expression of stoic resignation, as if he were bravely marching to his execution. If I weren’t the victim, I would have applauded them! Their acting was Oscar-worthy! I nodded, then feigning a threat, I pulled out my phone. “Then I’ll call the police right now! Let them come pick up Eddy. It’ll save Mother-in-law a trip.” 3. At this, Eddy’s face instantly drained of color. He frantically shot glances at my mother-in-law, a silent plea in his eyes. My mother-in-law flinched, startled, and quickly said, “Beth has a point.” “How about this, Beth? You rest at home for a bit. I’ll go with Eddy to apologize to the family; after all, we’re in the wrong here.” Clearly, they were trying to buy time, to stall me. I nodded, feigning intense worry, and went back to the bedroom. It wasn’t the right moment yet. I checked my bank balance: thirty thousand dollars, my pre-marital savings, untouched. To prevent Eddy from secretly transferring it, I’d moved the funds to a different account. Next, I searched the house again. One of my bank cards was missing! After we married, all our salaries were transferred into this card for joint expenses. And now, the card was gone. Who was behind it? The answer was painfully obvious. A cold premonition settled in my gut. I checked my wardrobe again. My gold and silver bracelets, my expensive handbags, and all my luxury items—they had all been replaced with fakes! My heart hammered against my ribs. Eddy, that despicable dog, had truly gone to extreme lengths! He left me not a single penny, yet expected me to pay restitution to his mistress, raise his son, and care for his elderly mother. He wanted to wash his hands of everything. Disgusting! I immediately called a private investigator, entrusting them with some urgent inquiries. But a cold shadow in my heart stubbornly refused to dissipate. Just as I was drifting into a hazy sleep, the bedroom door was violently pounded. My mother-in-law was pounding her chest, looking utterly heartbroken, as if she were about to collapse. “That… that family’s mistress refused to let Eddy come back for one last goodbye. They… they put Eddy away.” Leo rushed out of his room, clutching my mother-in-law’s leg, not letting go. “Daddy… I want my daddy…” I crumpled to my knees, my face contorted in despair. “How could this happen?” I clutched Leo, weeping uncontrollably. “Eddy, now that you’re gone, how will we, a widowed mother and orphan, survive?” On the surface, I was heartbroken, but inside, I was practically dancing with glee. 4. That wretched man had thought things through quite thoroughly. He’d faked being arrested right after his “apology,” saving himself from being genuinely sent to prison. I then suggested to my mother-in-law, “Mother, I want to go see Eddy now.” She immediately waved her hands, rejecting me as if I were the enemy. “The police said Eddy can’t have visitors right now.” My mother-in-law’s eyes darted around, and she quickly proposed, “Since Eddy’s gone in, perhaps we should send that family some money. It might help lighten his sentence.” My mother-in-law, tears and snot streaming down her face, didn’t forget to subtly eye Leo. “Mommy, save Daddy!” Leo burst into tears and immediately tugged at my hand. I sneered. What a cunning plan they were playing. It was clear they wanted me to funnel money to Eddy’s mistress and her child. Did they really take me for a fool? I nodded. “Mother-in-law, you’re right. I’ll go get the card.” I feigned compliance and went back to the room. A flicker of triumph crossed my mother-in-law’s eyes. I picked up the bank card, then, a thought striking me, put it back down. Instead, I gathered the incriminating documents from Eddy’s desk drawer. When we arrived at Veronica Hayes’s house, she opened the door, her expression sorrowful, yet her eyes held the same haughty, superior air I remembered from my past life. She gazed at us, her voice stern. “What do you want? Haven’t you caused enough trouble for me and my child?” She was clutching the hand of a frail, thin little girl, and her performance was truly heartfelt. Anyone who didn’t know better would truly believe her husband had died and she was living in abject poverty! At this, my mother-in-law seized Leo and dragged him down with her, kneeling before Veronica, sobbing hysterically. “Veronica, dear… we were wrong, so utterly wrong. Hit me, curse me, this old woman will bear it all, but please, please forgive my Eddy.” A single word she almost blurted out confirmed my suspicions. Then she tried to pull me down to kneel and apologize with her. 5. Was this a joke? The legitimate wife apologizing to the mistress? I wasn’t a fool! I yanked my hand away. My mother-in-law stumbled, her head hitting the floor with a thud, making her wince in pain. I blinked, feigning confusion, and asked, “Mother-in-law, how do you know her name is Veronica?” My mother-in-law’s eyes flickered, and she quickly explained, ignoring the pain. “At first… at first, I didn’t.” She spun a lie. “Eddy told me on the way there. He said we had wronged her, and that we absolutely had to compensate Veronica properly.” Leo chimed in, supporting her. “Yes, Daddy mentioned her before.” I glanced at Leo, my heart chilling to its very core. My own son, simply because Eddy promised him a new racing drone if he lied, had kept me in the dark, letting me slave away for this family for decades. What an ingrate! I looked at the little girl opposite me. She was watching us warily. Yet she bore a striking resemblance to me. A daring suspicion bloomed in my mind. Veronica subtly intercepted my gaze. She shot me a quick, dismissive glance, then demanded, with a lion’s appetite, “You want me to forgive him? Fine. Half a million. Not a penny less, or there’s nothing to discuss!” She was remarkably assertive. Then she turned and slammed the door shut. I didn’t move. My mother-in-law panicked, lunging forward to grip the doorframe tightly. Veronica couldn’t quite shut the door. She spat with disgust, “Get out! I don’t want to see your family for another second! If it weren’t for you, my husband would still be alive!” My mother-in-law whirled around and fell to her knees before me. “Beth, please, I beg you! Save Eddy! I’ll be your slave in my next life, I swear! He’s my only son; please, please save him!” Her cries tore through the air. My expression remained impassive, but a cold smirk played on my lips inwardly. My mother-in-law pretended to beg, but in reality, she was putting me on the spot, banking on my soft heart to give in! “Mother-in-law, what are you doing! Eddy and I are husband and wife. Don’t worry, I’ll definitely get Eddy out…” I quickly helped my mother-in-law up from the ground. My mother-in-law was overjoyed, and Veronica subtly revealed a triumphant look. But then, the next second, I handed the documents I’d been holding behind my back to Veronica, sighing. “However, Mother-in-law is right.” “Since Eddy is so principled, I can’t let him be spoken ill of.” “Here are the proofs of Eddy’s crime. I’ll just take them to the police for him now. It’ll save the officers the trouble of searching.”

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Everyone always said I didn’t look like my parents. So I secretly took a DNA test, and the report confirmed the truth: I was indeed not their biological daughter. I delusionally burned the report, then secretly hired someone to find the real Davies family daughter. During my senior year’s winter break, I finally found her. At the time, she was working as a server in a bar. 1. Ever since I learned I wasn’t a Davies, my entire demeanor shifted. The once well-behaved, studious student started skipping classes and arguing with teachers. My grades plummeted at a visible speed, from average to the very bottom of the class. My parents didn’t know why, only assuming I was going through a rebellious phase. Every time the school called them in, we’d return home, and the four of us would sit in the living room, a family in bewildered distress. “Chloe,” my mother would say, her face stern, but her voice soft, laced with worry that she might truly upset me. “Tell me what’s going on. Why are you skipping classes?” I’d lower my head, not a shred of my classroom defiance remaining. Seeing my silence, my mother’s voice would gain a little more weight. “Chloe, skipping class is wrong.” I’d mumble in response, my voice weak. “I know.” I knew, but I’d still skip next time. My father would lower his newspaper, glance at my mother, then at me. “As long as you know you’re wrong, that’s what matters. Ready for dinner?” “Eat, eat, eat! Is that all you think about?” My mother’s tone with my father was sharper than with me. I couldn’t help but let out a soft chuckle. My brother, Ethan, noticed my smile. Fearing Mom would catch it and scold me again, he quickly stood up and pulled me. “Mom, you’ve lectured enough. Chloe and I are going to eat.” I followed him to the dining room obediently. A family intervention, ostensibly for my sake, thus ended. Back then, I was incredibly naive. The DNA test felt like a thunderbolt from a clear sky, a truth I simply couldn’t accept. So I acted out, deliberately making trouble, using every tantrum as a twisted way to confirm my parents’ and brother’s love for me, over and over again. I completely refused to consider: what about the real Davies daughter? While I was brazenly occupying her parents and brother, casually basking in their love as if it were my inherent right, what kind of life was she living? Who was there to love her? I dared not think, yet couldn’t help but wonder. Finally, I stopped running from it. I found old photos of my mother and father from their childhood. From my meager allowance, I set aside a portion to hire a private investigator, tasking him with secretly searching for the real Davies daughter. As for what I would do once he found her, I had no idea. 2. During the winter break of my senior year, the investigator finally called. He said he’d found her. He’d found the real Davies daughter. This time, the answer wasn’t the countless uncertainties of before. It was absolute certainty. My heart pounded violently, unsure if I felt joy or sorrow. I asked the investigator where he’d found her. He told me she was working as a server in a bar. She was my age. I woke up naturally every day, meeting friends to shop. And she was in a bar, earning what, to me, was mere pocket change. After hanging up, he sent me a photo of the real daughter. Even if it was just my imagination, the more I looked, the more she resembled my mother. After much deliberation, I finally made up my mind to go see her. As for what to do after seeing her… I’d figure that out later. After dinner, I called my best friend and also rounded up some of the tough, street-smart friends I’d made since my rebellious phase. We agreed on a place to meet up. My best friend, seeing Jax, the tattooed guy, visibly flinched and hid behind me. I patted her hand reassuringly, explaining that Jax was my friend, and his full-sleeve tattoo just looked a bit intimidating. I introduced my motley crew of friends to my best friend, explaining their colorful appearances. Only then did we head to the location the investigator had given me. Even after years of rebellion, I’d never been to a bar. In my mind, it wasn’t a good place. We found a spot, awkwardly settling into a booth. Good thing I’d brought Jax and the others; they looked perfectly at home here, like seasoned regulars. But how was I supposed to meet the real daughter? That question truly stumped me. Drinks were quickly brought to our table. I carefully scanned the servers, but didn’t see the girl from the photo. I stood up, feigning a trip to the restroom, and began to wander through the bar. It was around seven in the evening, and the bar wasn’t too crowded yet. “One drink for a hundred bucks. Wanna go?” A man’s voice, thick with obvious intoxication, drifted towards me. I instinctively quickened my pace, trying to distance myself from the sound, but my gaze, as if compelled by some unseen force, drifted over. My eyes widened in shock. It was the girl from the photo. Summer, the real Davies daughter, she was right there! 3. The girl stared at the glass of liquor, her eyes etched with struggle and hesitation. Was she really going to drink that for a mere hundred dollars? Was she out of her mind?! By the time I came to my senses, I had already snatched the drink and splashed it across the man’s face. The man glared at me, his eyes blazing. “You little bitch! You dare to splash me?!” I instinctively grabbed the girl’s hand beside me, ready to flee. The man saw my intention and sneered, a cruel twist of his lips. “Stop them.” From somewhere, several burly men materialized, appearing behind us and blocking our escape. I inwardly cursed my impulsiveness. I should have tried to reason with the man, to buy some time. But what could I do? I simply couldn’t stand by and watch him use money to force someone to drink. Suddenly, the girl wrenched her hand free from mine, stepping in front of me, shielding me. “I don’t know her. Let her go.” The man swept all the glasses off the table, sending them crashing to the floor with a series of sharp, shattering sounds. “Go? I’d like to see either of you try to leave today!” I had completely lost my earlier bravado, trembling slightly at his menacing display. My gaze drifted to the thin, fragile shoulders shielding me, and a strange emotion flickered within me. If she knew who I was, would she regret stepping in to protect me today? I stood there, dazed, until a cry of pain erupted from behind me. A wave of relief washed over me: Jax and the others were here. Good thing I’d sent Jax a quick text earlier, telling him our location and to come over. Otherwise, the consequences would have been unimaginable. Thankfully, the men the drunkard hired were all bark and no bite. They were no match for Jax’s crew and were knocked out cold within a few moves. The tables quickly turned. Jax knelt beside me, his voice laced with concern, “Chloe, are you alright? You’re not hurt, are you?” I opened my mouth, but before I could speak, he made to lunge at the man. I quickly grabbed his arm. “That’s enough. Stop hitting him.” If this escalated, it would surely reach my parents or Ethan. Deep down, I wasn’t ready for them to meet the real daughter yet. The man, seeing his men defeated, pulled out his phone, clearly intending to call for more backup. My friends, who were closer, swiftly snatched the phone, twisting his arm behind his back. A man who looked like the bar manager appeared, his face grim. My heart sank. The situation had indeed blown up. 4. To my surprise, Jax gallantly stayed behind to handle the situation. He told his friends to send Summer and me out first. Stepping out of the bar, we finally escaped the deafening music and the stinging smell of stale alcohol. I took a deep breath of fresh, crisp air, feeling as though I could finally breathe again, as if I’d been reborn. Bars, I decided, were truly not good places. I should avoid them in the future. “Thank you for helping me,” the girl said, her voice soft and melodious, a pleasant sound next to my ear. I’d almost forgotten about her. I turned my head to look at her. She was wearing the bar’s standard black uniform dress, her head slightly bowed, a few strands of hair falling around her ears. “It’s nothing. But I probably messed up your job.” “It’s okay. I didn’t want to keep this job anyway.” With that, we exchanged smiles, a strange sense of understanding passing between us. Suddenly, being with her felt incredibly comfortable, easy. “How long have you worked here? Do you want me to come with you to quit?” “Today was my third day. It’s no trouble, I can go by myself.” I insisted on accompanying her to quit. She couldn’t argue with my stubbornness and eventually led me inside. When I saw the small, grateful curve of her lips as she clutched a few hundred dollars in cash, a gnawing sense of guilt began to creep into my chest. I hadn’t just occupied her parents’ and brother’s love; I had stolen her entire prosperous life, the life that should have been hers. If I were her, learning all this, I would surely hate myself to the bone. “Let me treat you to some late-night snacks.” She held up the crisp new bills in her hand, a genuine smile on her face. I was about to refuse when Jax and his crew emerged from the bar. “Chloe, we helped you out so much. Treating us to some late-night snacks isn’t too much to ask, is it?” It was Finn, the skinny guy next to Jax, who spoke. Jax immediately elbowed him, a sharp jab. “You’re certainly not shy, are you?” Out of the corner of my eye, I caught a glimpse of Summer’s tension and apprehension. I quickly introduced my friends to her. “This is Jax, Finn, Leo…” The few men, hearing my introductions, looked utterly exasperated. In truth, I didn’t even know their real names. When you’re out on the streets, all that matters are catchy, easy-to-remember nicknames. Why bother with real names? Finn grumbled quietly, sounding disgruntled. “You completely ruined our first impression.” I rolled my eyes. “I recall your first impression was probably made inside the bar.” Their first impression, I thought, probably involved them breaking some bones. They had, after all, knocked the man’s burly friends out cold in just a few moves. “My name is Summer Peterson. Thank you all.” Summer Peterson. It was a beautiful name. “No problem, it was nothing,” Jax mumbled, scratching his head, a faint blush creeping up his neck. Big, tough guy, yet he still blushed around girls. I rolled my eyes, but held my tongue. “No need to thank them. Just thank me. Come on, let’s go get some late-night snacks.” Then, a motley procession of us marched towards a lively, no-frills eatery. Along the way, remembering my best friend whom I’d brought to the bar, I quickly asked Jax about her. If I’d known something like this would happen, I definitely wouldn’t have brought her. “Rocco took her home.” Rocco didn’t say much, but he was reliable. I nodded in relief. “Tell Rocco to come join us for snacks too.” We sat down, just enough to fill the round table comfortably. Mrs. Stone, the owner, approached with a wide smile, handing us two menus, and stood by, waiting for our order. Jax gallantly placed a menu in front of Summer and me. Seeing she didn’t move, I took the menu and asked about her preferences. “Do you eat chives?” She nodded. “And gluten?” She nodded again. “Chicken wings?” She still nodded. I stopped asking her and simply ordered two portions of everything I thought tasted good. Then I let Jax and the others order. Summer clutched the crisp bills nervously in her hand. With just a glance, I understood her worry. “My treat. You keep the money you earned.” She was worried she didn’t have enough. “But you all helped me.” “Then you can treat us next time.” She no longer refused, neatly folding the money and tucking it into her pocket. “If you ask me, nothing beats a good cold beer. All those fancy drinks in the bar are overpriced and don’t even taste that great.” Jax guzzled his beer, his words becoming more boisterous with each swig. I placed some chives and gluten onto Summer’s plate, fearing she’d be too shy to take them herself. Then I heard her polite, repeated thanks, one after another. They never stopped. The more polite she was, the more a bitter ache swelled in my chest. Perhaps, I thought, I should tell her the truth at the right moment. To my parents, to Ethan, and to Summer. And then, I would face the reckoning, though delayed, that was bound to come. 5. They drank quite a bit of beer, but thankfully, they were still coherent. Jax insisted on taking Summer and me home. I suggested we drop Summer off first. So, the group headed towards Summer’s residence. My heart hammered against my ribs, a nervous rhythm. I wondered what her living situation was like. What kind of people were my biological parents? Probably not great, I thought, otherwise why would they make an eighteen-year-old Summer work in a bar to earn money? A pang of sadness tightened my chest. “We’re here,” Summer said softly. I looked up, then froze. Central High. She lived at school? As if sensing my confusion, she quietly explained: “I applied for cold-weather accommodation at the school.” So that was it. “Do you have a phone? Can we exchange contacts?” She shook her head. They didn’t even buy her a phone. That was truly outrageous. “But you can give me your number. I can remember it. When I earn enough money, I’ll treat you all to a meal.” She could remember it? I was a little shocked by her memory, momentarily speechless. Then she seemed to misunderstand, quickly making a promise. “I’ll definitely call you. If I don’t, you can come find me at school. My name is Summer Peterson, and the gate guard knows me too.” “That’s not what I meant,” I said, sighing. I helplessly recited my number to her. We watched her enter the school, and then the group finally dispersed. By the time I got home, it was past ten. Using the faint light filtering in from outside, I eased the door open, trying to be as quiet as a phantom. Then, the living room lights flickered to life with a sudden click. My parents and Ethan were all sitting in the living room, waiting, not yet asleep. 6. I slipped on my slippers, took a deep breath, and walked towards them. My mother’s arms were crossed, her voice cool and sharp. “Where have you been? You actually remembered to come home!” I sneaked a glance at my father and Ethan. My father cleared his throat, but his gaze immediately darted away when it met mine. Ethan adjusted his spectacles, his eyes darting nervously around the room. Clearly, both of them were here to be mere props, leaving me to face the music. I could only stand rigidly, staring at the leg of the sofa, and ad-libbed. “My best friend and I went for a walk. We lost track of time, so we played a bit late.” My voice faded to a whisper by the end. “What’s that smell?” My mother sniffed the air, then her voice suddenly gained volume, a note of accusation. “Alcohol! Chloe Davies, you actually went drinking!” After spending so long in the cold night air, there was still a smell of alcohol? I instinctively raised my sleeve and sniffed. It must have been wine that had accidentally splashed onto my clothes. I hung my head in annoyance. To my mother, this was as good as an admission of guilt. Immediately, she rose to her feet in a huff, raising her hand as if to strike me. My father quickly stood up too, reaching out to block my mother. “Let’s talk this out, dear. Don’t lay hands on the child.” Ethan stepped in front of me, shielding me. “Mom, don’t hit Chloe.” My mother’s eyes suddenly welled up with tears. “You two, father and son, always protect her. Just let me die from anger, why don’t you?!” With that, she sank back onto the sofa, turning her head away, unwilling to spare me another glance. My father and Ethan kept shooting me meaningful glances, and I nodded, understanding their silent plea. “Mom, I promise I didn’t drink a single drop of alcohol. It just accidentally got on my clothes.” I moved to sit on the left side of the sofa, but my mother immediately spun around, facing right, her back to me. “Mom, I swear, I really didn’t drink. If I drank tonight, then may I be struck by lightning—” Before I could finish the oath, my mother quickly spun around, cutting me off mid-sentence. “Alright, alright, Mom believes you.” I happily leaned closer, but she quickly pulled away. “You reek of it! Go take a shower. If you come home this late again, I’m locking the door, and you can spend the night outside.” Crisis averted. “Okay, I’m going to shower now. Goodnight, Mom, Dad, Ethan!” As I passed the second-floor landing, my shoulders suddenly slumped. The image of my mother’s tear-reddened eyes lingered in my mind, an inescapable image. I thought, Summer would never upset Mom like that. She was polite, she knew how to show gratitude. She was so good, much better than me. A bitter ache swelled in my throat, but I swallowed it down. A selfish thief who stole someone else’s happiness, what right did I have to feel wronged? Lying in bed, I drifted into a fitful sleep, plagued by one nightmare after another. In my dreams, Summer and my parents reunited, a picture of perfect family bliss. In my dreams, Ethan screamed at me, accusing me of stealing Summer’s life. In my dreams, I was cast out of the Davies home, a stranger in their midst. In my dreams, my biological parents forced me to work as a bar server, just to earn money. …

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After years of backbreaking work, I’d finally scraped together a small fortune—enough gold to fill my palm ten times over. Once I bought the Sunstone Amulet from the pawnshop, Alaric and I could finally go home. But Alaric, in the dead of night, stole all the money. The very next morning, he returned, leading a woman of exquisite beauty, delicate and graceful as a blossom. He said, “Seraphina has endured such a tragic past; I simply couldn’t stand by and do nothing.” I glanced at my own slightly creased woolen gown, then at the sumptuous brocade gown the woman wore. It was woven with threads of gold and silver, meticulously embroidered. I recognized her. Seraphina, the celebrated Lute Master from the Whispering Lyre Salon. My voice was hoarse as I asked, “Where is the rest of the money?” Even if Seraphina was a star attraction, her release wouldn’t cost the full ten Gold Sovereigns. Alaric, avoiding my gaze, licked his lips nervously. “Seraphina is accustomed to the finer things from her time at the Whispering Lyre. So, I bought her some jewelry and gowns.” With that, he pulled a few meager Silver Crowns from his pouch and placed them on the table. I took a deep breath, forcing my trembling hands to stillness. “Alaric, you know what that money was for.” Alaric’s face flashed with impatience. “Oh, come on, Agatha. We can always earn more. Can you truly bear to see Seraphina performing night after night, pouring wine and forcing smiles?” “You’re a woman too; how can you be so devoid of compassion?” Before Alaric could continue, Seraphina spoke up from beside him. “I, humble as I am, know that such a great kindness can never be fully repaid. I am willing to serve Master Alaric and Lady Agatha as your faithful servant, to show my gratitude.” Her eyes were red-rimmed, as if on the verge of tears. Alaric quickly soothed her with a gentle voice. “Money is but a trifle. Now that you have no place to go, you can stay here at the inn for a while. Come, I’ll show you to a room.” He led Seraphina upstairs, not sparing me another glance. I didn’t know if he dared not, or simply chose not to. I reached out, scooped the few Silver Crowns into my pouch, and reopened the ledger. This inn, The Wayfarer’s Rest, Alaric and I had established three years ago. It was our second year after being transported to this strange world. Unlike the tales of transmigration I’d read, we were nothing more than ordinary folk. We had relied on our memories, crafting various trinkets to sell from a street stall, before we could afford to acquire this inn, finally giving ourselves a place to call home. Later, I even opened a small House of Lumina, selling my custom scents and balms. But to gather the money, I had recently sold the parlor. The funds from that sale… were now adorning Seraphina. Excluding our time here, Alaric and I had been together for five years. We were at the precipice of marriage. Since arriving here, my only desire was to find a way back home as quickly as possible. Two years ago, during a visit to The Abbey of Whispering Pines outside the city, I met a Reverend Brother. The Reverend Brother spoke in riddles, yet his words seemed pointed. “Ten Gold Sovereigns shall procure the golden Sunstone Amulet, and the lost shall find their serene passage home.” I searched all of Lyra, and only one pawnshop held such a golden Sunstone Amulet. From that day forward, I toiled from dawn till dusk, running between the inn and my parlor, even setting up a street stall when I had a moment. Alaric, meanwhile, would occasionally lend a hand at the inn, but more often than not, he was out meeting with friends. He claimed these connections would benefit our business. Thinking of this, a sliver of doubt began to creep into my mind. Had his previous outings truly been for friendly gatherings, or for a clandestine rendezvous with a paramour? A sudden knock at the door broke my reverie. It was Alaric and Seraphina. I had no desire to speak with them at that moment, but Seraphina stepped forward first, linking her arm through mine. “Lady Agatha, once I repair the strings of my lute in a few days, I’ll be able to earn alongside you both. Master Alaric worked so hard to secure my release; I won’t fail to repay his kindness.” I didn’t bother to correct her. Every single coin had been earned by me. Given my need for funds, and her undeniable talent, I knew she could indeed be of some use. Leaving aside everything else, her skill with the lute was truly unparalleled. Alaric moved closer, lowering his voice. “Agatha, I spoke too harshly today. Don’t be angry. Don’t worry, we’ll earn the money back quickly. Just focus on running the inn well.” With that, he moved back to Seraphina’s side. They exchanged a tender smile, their eyes holding a silent, intimate conversation, while I stood by, feeling utterly like an outsider. As they stepped out of my room together, an indescribable sense of desolation washed over me. I had just noticed a string of small, polished stones adorning Seraphina’s neck. Alaric had bought those two years ago; I had seen them by chance. But he had claimed they were a birthday gift for some young lord. Now it seemed, that young lord’s name was Seraphina. So they had known each other for a long time. Had Alaric planned to use the money to buy her freedom all along? I licked my parched lips. Bitter. So bitter. I sat in the room, stunned for a long while, then it suddenly struck me that instead of agonizing over endless possibilities, I should confront him directly. But I searched for a while and couldn’t find either of them. A stable boy told me Alaric had taken Seraphina out, saying he wanted to show her around Lyra. I couldn’t help but laugh. Seraphina had probably lived in Lyra longer than he had; she hardly needed him as a guide. “Did he forget he was supposed to procure the ale and provisions today?” “I spoke with the Master, Lady, and he said your presence would suffice.” Alaric didn’t return until dusk. Watching him, his arms laden with packages, I felt a strange flicker of unreality. The top box held The Serenity Sweet, from The Golden Griffin Manor, the most renowned eatery in Lyra. Not only was it a limited delicacy, but even queuing for it would cost dozens of Silver Crowns. Last year, around winter festival, I’d mentioned to Alaric that I wished I could taste The Serenity Sweet before we left. It was said that those who partook of it would know such earthly delight that they would forget all past sorrows. But Alaric had scoffed. “Just a stale pastry sold for such a ridiculous price. Our savings have a greater purpose. Don’t you want to go home sooner?” I thought he was right; compared to any sweet, I wanted to go home sooner. Now, looking back, it was utterly ironic. Seraphina saw me and greeted me warmly. “Lady Agatha, Master Alaric queued for so long today to get this. The Serenity Sweet is truly delicious! Would you like a taste?” Seraphina’s bright smile at that moment was blinding, making my eyes sting. I couldn’t manage a smile. Stiffly, I called out to Alaric, “Come with me.” Once we were out of sight of others, I turned to face Alaric, my gaze locked with his. “Are you smitten with her?” Alaric’s face darkened. “Agatha, can you not always be so suspicious? I merely took her out for some shopping. What nonsense are you spouting? Is your heart truly so small?” A searing anger coiled in my chest. I couldn’t help but raise my hand and slap him. Alaric stared at me, his eyes wide, momentarily stunned. Seraphina, however, let out a soft cry and quickly rushed over. “How could you strike Master Alaric?” Seraphina’s face was filled with shock. She clutched Alaric’s arm with one hand and gently touched his cheek with the other. Alaric finally snapped back to reality. “Agatha, what madness has seized you?” “You are but Master Alaric’s adopted sister. For Master Alaric to provide for your sustenance and shelter is already a great kindness. How can you repay his generosity with such malice?” Seraphina’s face was etched with indignation. “Adopted sister?” I slowly repeated the words. When we first arrived in Lyra, for convenience, we had agreed to pose as siblings. But over time, the neighbors and our own staff had simply assumed Alaric and I were husband and wife; no one had mentioned “siblings” in ages. I had actually considered getting married then, but ultimately decided it should wait until we returned home, to be wed in the presence of our parents and loved ones. Later, consumed by earning money, I hadn’t given it much thought. Alaric lowered his gaze, not immediately answering me. “Alaric, say it again. Am I your adopted sister?” I felt a tightness in my throat, barely suppressing the tremor in my voice. Seraphina also turned to look at him. Alaric looked up at me, then immediately shifted his gaze to Seraphina. He nodded slightly, and finally spoke. “Yes.” Seraphina’s anxious expression completely relaxed. She quickly pulled Alaric toward her room, saying she had a fine salve that could soothe the redness and swelling. And I, I just stared blankly at Alaric’s retreating back, for a long, long time, without turning away. That night, I tossed and turned, unable to sleep, my mind replaying every moment from when Alaric and I first met to when we fell in love. The next day, I didn’t rise until the sun was high in the sky. Seraphina and Alaric were already out again. Even though my spirits were low, the inn’s business couldn’t stop. Now, my only thought was to raise the money and go home as soon as possible. If Alaric didn’t want to leave, then so be it. In the afternoon, when the inn quieted down, I ventured out alone, intending to visit the pawnshop and see if the golden Sunstone Amulet was still there. I hadn’t expected to walk just two streets when I heard a shout. “Fortunes told! Fortunes told!” I had no mind for divination and didn’t even bother to glance over, but unexpectedly, a carriage galloped past. Startled, I stumbled and dodged to the side, falling right into the stall. Immediately, a wave of dizziness washed over me. The stall owner beside me was still chanting, “Oh, lady, have your fortune told. It’s remarkably accurate.” When I finally managed to stand, I saw the person at the stall. He looked exactly like the Reverend Brother I had met at The Abbey of Whispering Pines two years ago. I grabbed his sleeve. “It’s you! Aren’t you a Reverend Brother? Why are you a fortune teller?” The false Reverend Brother was startled when he recognized my face. He tried to flee, but I held him in a death grip. “Lady, I know nothing. You’ve mistaken me for someone else.” I casually pulled a Silver Crown from my pouch and slammed it down. “Tell me the truth, and the money is yours. If not, we’re going straight to the Royal Bailiff’s Office!” The fortune teller eventually spoke. He had always made a living by telling fortunes. Two years ago, a young lord approached him, promising him fifty Silver Crowns if he followed his instructions. All those words about the Sunstone Amulet had been fed to him. He had then taken the money and returned to his homeland. Now that it was spent, he was back at his stall. “So the Amulet… it was a lie?” I was both shocked and furious. “I know nothing else. The young lord taught me everything I said.” I slowly released my grip, turning to run towards the pawnshop. The pawnshop owner readily admitted the deception. He even handed me the Amulet directly. “Lady, I truly couldn’t bear to keep deceiving you. This stone is only worth fifty Silver Crowns. If you like it, I’ll give it to you for half price.” “I truly don’t know why he insisted on keeping it from you. A mere stone, and yet he didn’t want you to acquire it.” I knew. I knew why he kept it from me. Because he needed to purchase Seraphina’s freedom. I still took out the money and bought the Amulet. But my feelings were completely different from what I’d expected. All that long anticipation had been a mere illusion. I could never go home. He had been so cruel, deceiving me to such an extent. My heart ached fiercely, and I raised a hand to my cheek, thinking I must have been crying. To my surprise, not a single tear had fallen. When I returned to the inn, Alaric and Seraphina were seated closely together. Alaric’s gaze towards her was full of tenderness. I suddenly remembered the night he confessed his feelings to me, standing beneath my window with a bouquet of vibrant red roses, his expression similarly ardent. It was sickening. I reached out and tossed the Sunstone Amulet before him, staring at him, not speaking immediately. Alaric instinctively blurted out, “How did you… Where did you get the money for this Amulet?” “Only fifty Silver Crowns. I can afford it.” Alaric’s unfinished words caught in his throat. A hint of discomfort appeared on his face; he must have guessed I knew everything. I didn’t linger on his reaction, continuing, “Alaric, this inn, we built it together. Calculate its worth and give me my share in Silver Crowns.” He finally reacted. “What do you mean?” “A division of assets.” It was laughable, really. We weren’t even married, and yet here we were, talking about a division. Alaric stood up abruptly, his expression shocked. “You’re leaving? You know full well this Amulet…” “Yes, I know I can’t go back, and that you deliberately deceived me. But now, the sight of you makes me sick. I don’t want to stay here.” “Lady Agatha, there’s no such thing as a woman demanding a division of assets!” Seraphina suddenly interjected. “This is not your concern.” No sooner had I spoken than Alaric quickly stepped forward, shielding Seraphina. “Don’t take your anger out on Seraphina. It’s just a bit of money used, is it really worth this fuss?” “Besides, that money wasn’t earned by you alone. Can you stop being so unreasonable?” I looked at Alaric’s self-righteous expression, and a fire blazed within me. “I said I want a division! You can spend your money on whomever you please, but don’t you dare touch my share.” “If you don’t want to give it, then I’ll give you money. Take your Seraphina and get out.” I pulled out my own pouch of Silver Crowns and slammed it onto the table, then looked straight into Alaric’s eyes, afraid of showing any weakness. But Alaric, to my surprise, calmly sat down. “A division is acceptable, but… Agatha, you won’t get a single coin.” My breath hitched. Watching his demeanor, I suddenly felt my certainty waver. “Don’t forget, my name is on the Royal Charter, and I alone signed the deed. This inn belongs solely to me.” Alaric’s lips curved into a smirk as he leisurely looked at me. All the blood rushed to my head. A booming sound, and my entire body felt numb. “Don’t forget, this is Lyra.” “Without me, how will you survive?” Alaric’s words, one by one, hammered into my heart. I clenched my fists tightly, completely unaware that my fingernails were digging deep into my palms. Seeing that I didn’t respond, Alaric’s tone softened slightly. “Agatha, I was afraid you’d lose hope, and I didn’t mean to deceive you. Just manage this inn well. I’m not a heartless man.” His expression at that moment seemed particularly sinister. “So, you mean I earn the money for you to spend?” “Why should I?” Alaric’s expression seemed completely self-righteous. “Because this is Lyra. Here, men rule the household.” I looked at him, and felt utterly alien.

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In five years of marriage, I had caught my husband with 99 paramours. When I was heavily pregnant, his hundredth little vixen offended our biggest client. To salvage the crucial project, Jack demanded that I, instead of her, walk to the client’s estate and beg for forgiveness on bended knee. In the torrential rain, I sobbed, my voice trembling: “The child is seven months old. A twenty-mile walk in such a downpour… the baby won’t survive this—” He slapped me impatiently, knocking me to the ground. “A few steps and you’re wailing like a banshee! What a performance! Aren’t you from the Northern Peaks?” He shoved me into the pouring rain, forcing me to prostrate myself every three steps. Blood streamed from between my legs, washing into crimson rivulets on the soaked ground. Inside the carriage, his little vixen, Lady Seraphina, looked utterly disgusted. “Didn’t even bother to use a proper cloth during her monthly flow. Disgusting.” I walked to the brink of death, giving birth prematurely to a daughter barely three pounds. When Dowager Countess Thorne rushed to my side, I used my last ounce of strength to beg her. “The Thorne family’s grace, in sponsoring my education, has been fully repaid with this child. Can I finally be free now?” 1 “Clara, my dear, have you made up your mind? Jack, he’s just lost his way for a time; he’s not truly himself. Could you possibly…” Dowager Countess Thorne choked back tears, her face etched with sorrow and a reluctance to accept my decision. The news report on the television happened to be broadcasting the Thorne Holdings Annual Gala, capturing our attention. Jack, with his hundredth paramour, Lady Seraphina, attended the event. On screen, their fingers were intertwined, the ruby engagement ring on Seraphina’s left hand drawing every eye. Their intimate posture garnered all the flashing lights. The Thorne Holdings directors bowed and scraped before Seraphina, their flattery oozing. “Whoever spread rumors that Lord Jack treats his lady wife poorly should see this! He keeps her by his side, even at the company gala. A match made in heaven, envied by all!” The words “lady wife” struck a chord in Seraphina’s heart, deepening her smile, her cheeks flushing with vibrant color. Other employees immediately followed suit, eagerly egging them on. “Angels descended! Come, show us your affection! A kiss! A kiss!” Jack’s lips curved into a smirk. He didn’t rebuke his subordinates. Instead, he embraced Seraphina and passionately kissed her. Dowager Countess Thorne froze, then quickly grabbed the remote and turned off the television. She looked at me, her face filled with shame, her voice softening. “Clara, alas, it’s all my fault for my misguided good intentions. I believed you two were meant for each other, and instead, I’ve harmed you. You owe the Thorne family nothing more, my dear. Go. Go anywhere you wish!” Dowager Countess Thorne’s calloused hand gently caressed my cheek, but I couldn’t shed a single tear. In five years of marriage, my tears had long since dried. “You haven’t seen the child yet…” Dowager Countess Thorne’s hand paused. My heart, like a heavy stone suspended in air, suddenly plummeted. Smashing, leaving a bloody mess. My own flesh and blood, born at seven months, after half my life force was spent. How could I abandon her, just like that? In a daze, the nurse brought the baby into the room. “Baby’s mother, look how adorable your little one is. Though she’s small, she’s…” “No, I don’t want to see her!” I sharply turned my head, staring out the window, desperately trying to prevent myself from looking at the tiny bundle wrapped in pink. Clenching my fists, I told myself not to yield. Clara, your freedom lies beyond that window. Nothing can keep you rooted here. The nurse stood frozen, unsure what to do. Dowager Countess Thorne sighed, shook her head, and signaled her to take the child away. When the room was left to just the two of us again, she wiped away her tears and reluctantly dialed Jack’s number. His voice on the other end was still somewhat gentle; after all, his grandmother was now his only true kin. “Grandmother, I’m busy with work. You know how it is, end of the year, lots of company matters. I’ll be home soon…” “Silence! Are you going to lie to your grandmother’s face now? The news is filled with you and that disreputable woman!” Jack fell silent for a moment, then spoke, his voice dripping with scorn. “Grandmother, your eyesight isn’t what it used to be. How long has it been since you watched television? Clara, that wretched woman, must have fed you this nonsense, didn’t she?” “Is that wretched Clara right there beside you? Let her listen!” I switched on the speakerphone. My tears silently fell onto the receiver. From the other end of the line, amidst the background sound of a woman sobbing, came Jack’s utterly insulting curses. Dowager Countess Thorne’s eyes were red-rimmed, her hand trembling slightly. “Clara, my dear, finish your confinement, and then leave the Thorne estate.” 2 When I was discharged, Jack didn’t come to pick me up. But, unexpectedly, he ordered a bouquet of flowers for me. In five years of marriage, he had sent countless flowers to every paramour, yet I, his lawful wife, was receiving them for the first time. In the past, even if he had casually tossed me a simple card, I would have treasured it, framed it, and collected it. But faced with the huge bouquet of lilies, I simply refused to sign for them. Jack, upon hearing this, exploded in a fit of rage, his voice booming from the delivery man’s phone. “Clara, you ungrateful wretch! I’d sooner throw money at a dog than give it to you!” He had no idea I was allergic to lilies; the pollen would cause severe breathing difficulties. During dinner, Jack suddenly returned to the Thorne estate with Lady Seraphina. I treated them as if they were invisible, continuing to eat without a care. Jack, seeing my indifference but unable to erupt, fumed and stomped out to the balcony to smoke. Seraphina, her stilettos clicking, swayed her hips like a viper and sat beside me. “Still have an appetite? Look at that waist; you’re as plump and greasy as a sow.” “And I hear women who’ve birthed children are loose and dry down there, can’t even hold a quill.” “In your state, do you truly have the nerve to cling to the title of Lady Thorne?” Seraphina’s mocking tone was utterly transparent. Usually, faced with such provocation, I would have erupted in fury and retorted immediately. But today, I acted as if I were deaf, not even sparing her a glance. I sat steadily, continuing to serve myself and eat. She froze for a moment, then suddenly forced a laugh. “Oh, playing the indifferent one, are we? Let’s see how long you can keep that up!” With that, she overturned the entire pot of soup onto herself, then, before I could react, shoved the basin into my hands and shrieked. “Lady Clara, I merely admire Lord Jack! What’s wrong with love? You can hit me, curse me, but why would you ruin my face…?” Seraphina was a minor socialite, attracting followers with her striking beauty—her greatest asset. She had scalded her skin below the neck a vivid red, leaving her drenched and utterly pitiful. I heard a stir from the balcony. Jack was coming inside. Before, facing such blatant setups, I would panic, desperate to defend myself, but all I ever received was Jack’s cold mockery. Today, I held the soup basin steadily, and with Jack witnessing it firsthand, I deliberately smashed the ceramic pot onto Seraphina’s body. Jack roared, striking me with a forceful slap. “Wretch! How could my noble Thorne family have such a petty, ungrateful fool as its lady of the house!” I was knocked to the ground, the scattered ceramic shards slicing into me, leaving dozens of bleeding wounds. My body was instantly drenched in blood. Pain consumed my entire being, and all I could hear was Jack’s furious roars. “Clara, I told you to apologize to Seraphina! Are you deaf?” I lowered my head, a silent, cold laugh on my lips as I gazed at the bleeding wounds. Jack, enraged, kicked me in the lower back, then grabbed my neck, forcing my face close to Seraphina. The woman’s beautiful, yet arrogant, face filled my vision, her triumphant smirk utterly brazen. An apology, is it? The next second, I sprang to my feet, systematically pouring the dishes from the table over my head, then forcefully smashing the empty ceramic vessels against myself. The hot liquid mixed with blood stung the wounds, a searing pain, but it paled in comparison to the ache in my heart. “How’s that? Is this apology heartfelt enough? Or do you still find it lacking…” “Clara, have you gone mad!” Jack saw my bruised and battered body. A flicker of pain crossed his eyes, and he violently seized my hands, stopping me from harming myself further. “Stop it right now!” The arm he gripped was covered in unhealed needle marks. Jack’s eyes widened, his lips trembling slightly. “What’s this? Why so many needle marks?” In five years of marriage, Jack’s affairs far outnumbered his times returning home for dinner. The title of Thorne Holdings’ patriarch naturally attracted not ordinary flings, but cunning, ruthless women, all with the courage and means to scheme and plot to replace me as Lady Thorne. Every time I was directly harmed, or when Jack hurt me on their behalf, the immense physical and mental anguish forced me to seek relief from pain medication. Jack stared blankly at the needle marks, then his face quickly turned to one of disdain. He flung my arm away, looking at me with disgust and contempt. “Well, Clara, you’re certainly getting clever. Resorting to playing the martyr now, are we? Let me tell you, feigning illness won’t work on me!” I was thrown to the ground again. My palm, bracing my fall, was covered in blood from fresh cuts, but I was already numb to the pain. Anyway, my confinement period would be over in half a month. 3 After Jack took Seraphina to the hospital, I sat numbly in the drawing-room. My fingers instinctively traced the wedding ring on my ring finger. This was the only tangible proof of my title as Lady Thorne. The ill-fitting ring was bound with several wraps of crimson thread, barely allowing it to stay on my finger. But five years had passed, and the gold plating had faded, revealing the silver beneath. When we bought the wedding ring back then, the sales assistant’s gaze at me was filled with disdain. “Such a wealthy and generous husband wouldn’t be unwilling to buy something better. He must have been forced into marriage, just casually making a token gesture. This woman is truly pitiful.” But I had happily accepted the ring Jack had personally chosen, never taking it off. I had asked him to wear the male wedding ring, but he refused. When I persisted, he simply claimed he had lost it. And so, for five years, his hand remained bare, as if he had never been bound by this marriage at all. I cut the red thread and took off the ring. From behind me, Jack’s cold sneer broke the silence. “Finally willing to take it off? Wasn’t it ‘cherished until death do us part’?” He walked in, puffing on a pipe, smoke curling around him, and eyed me disdainfully. His expression at that moment instantly transported me back to our wedding day, when he brought his first mistress into our bridal chamber. I had dragged the mistress out by her hair. Jack had watched with the same detached indifference, pipe in mouth. “Go on, hit her. Hit as hard as you like. The Thorne family has plenty of coin for compensation.” “For every one you strike down, I’ll take ten more. There are plenty of women in the world; I can be a groom every night.” I used to hate Jack like this the most—always causing a scandal, yet remaining aloof, leaving me to be the desperate, defeated wretch. But, I was leaving. It no longer mattered. I walked around him, heading straight into the dressing room to pack my luggage. Jack rushed in, agitated, and pushed my suitcase away. “Packing what? Leaving?” Was there panic in his eyes? How laughable. I sidestepped him, my voice calm. “It’s too cold. I’m going to a warm springs retreat with a good friend.” Jack visibly relaxed. While I was bathing, amidst the steam, Jack pushed open the bathroom door and walked in. He said he’d help me wash, as an apology for the day. I immediately wrapped myself in my bathrobe, recoiling from him in disgust. “Save your services for your little vixens; I don’t want them!” Jack’s face turned livid. He sneered. “Clara, what are you playing at, being a saint? A woman with a temper, isn’t it just because her man isn’t putting in enough effort in bed? Your husband will love you fiercely tonight!” He seized my waist, ripped open my bathrobe, and buried his face downwards. “Get out! Don’t touch me!” I struggled wildly, lifting my knee to strike at his groin. Jack dodged my attack, his eyes bloodshot with rage. He violently smashed the bottles and jars in the bathroom to the floor. “Fine! If you’re not willing, there are plenty of others waiting!” Jack stormed out, slamming the door. I clutched my bathrobe tightly, curling into a ball, and fell into an uneasy sleep. In the dead of night, from the other side of the wall by my headboard, came rhythmic, intimate sounds, jarring me awake. Following closely, the man’s playful laughter and the woman’s moans seeped into my ears. The room next door was the nursery, prepared for the newborn. Jack was deliberately trying to sicken me. The door was wide open. I walked directly to them, staring at their entangled forms without blinking. Jack turned, saw my indifferent expression, and his face twisted. He roared at me to get out. My eyes stung with unshed tears. But it didn’t matter. Out of sight, out of mind. It would all be over soon. 4 With my luggage, I left the Thorne estate and found a cheap inn to stay in. The next morning, someone pounded fiercely on my inn room door, waking me. After checking in yesterday, I had only given my address to my closest friend, Lady Eleanor. Opening the door, she stood there, her face anxious, holding up her mobile device for me to see. News of Jack’s infidelity and my forced departure had exploded across the entire network. #LordThorneSeeksThrillsWithParamourAsLadyOfTheManorSuffers #LadyThorneHumiliated,FleesInTheNight Lady Seraphina, a minor socialite with some online notoriety, instantly became a public enemy, savagely attacked by keyboard warriors. Oh, this trick again. He’s deliberately orchestrating this, isn’t he? And boosting his own visibility at the same time, I suppose. After all, infamy is still fame. But Jack, lost in his own schemes, saw me and, without a word, slapped me. “Clara, you venomous viper with a heart of vipers! No wonder you pretended not to care last night! You knew the scribes would be snapping pictures! You want to ruin Seraphina!” “You’ve driven her to the brink of exile from society, and she still says she doesn’t blame you! How can you be so ruthless!” “Come with me to Seraphina’s press conference right now! Apologize to her publicly and tell everyone she’s innocent!” Innocent? I touched my stinging cheek, a laugh bubbling up. “Whether she is innocent or not, isn’t that for you to decide, not me?” Jack refused to listen to a single word. He seized my collar and dragged me towards the press conference. Seraphina’s face was unadorned, her eyes swollen and red like walnuts. She bowed at a ninety-degree angle, offering an apology. Seeing my appearance, reporters immediately swarmed around. “Lady Thorne, did you orchestrate those intimate images?” “Lady Thorne, did Lady Seraphina truly interfere in your marriage with Lord Jack?” Jack, standing beside me, glared at me with eyes as cold as ice. I offered a faint smile, stepped forward, and helped Seraphina to her feet. “Lady Seraphina, you have suffered undue distress. It is all my fault.” Then I lowered my head and bowed. “Lady Seraphina is innocent; she is not a mistress. I am the hateful one, who deliberately forged images and fabricated false news to gain favor.” With that, I slapped myself across the face. “Lady Seraphina and my husband are simply business associates. It was my strong jealousy that led me to frame her. I am a despicable wretch.” Then I slapped myself on the other cheek. Seraphina trembled, watching me in terror. “Such a terrifying woman! She appears to apologize, but in reality, she’s constantly mocking and threatening!” Someone in the audience shouted loudly, speaking up for Seraphina. She conveniently buckled at the knees, collapsing onto the ground, looking as if she were about to faint. Jack lunged forward, sweeping her into his arms, then glared at me. “Clara, kneel! Apologize properly!” Seraphina, still clutched in his arms, distinctly flashed a look of triumph at me. I suddenly recalled that desperate kneeling in the torrential rain half a month ago, which not only caused my premature labor but also made me the laughingstock of the entire city. Now, under hundreds of lenses, if I were to kneel before Seraphina, I would completely lose all dignity. Jack’s lips curved into a cold sneer. He had someone bring Lady Eleanor’s employee badge from Thorne Holdings and threw it at my feet. The meaning was clear. Obey and kneel, or save my friend’s livelihood. A choice between the two. I raised my head, refusing to let tears fall. My knees slowly descended to the ground. The crowd erupted in murmurs. I spoke, my voice hoarse. “I, Clara Miller, was a student from the impoverished Northern Peaks, aided by the Thorne Charitable Bursary. Years ago, I saved Dowager Countess Thorne’s life.” “It was I who wished to rise above my station, leveraging that debt of gratitude to force Jack Thorne to break off his true affection with Lady Seraphina and take me as his wife.” Jack stared at me in disbelief, as if he hadn’t imagined I would so thoroughly sacrifice my own reputation to validate their connection. And then, the tears I had desperately held back finally streamed down my cheeks. All debts to the Thorne family, cancelled. After the press conference, Jack didn’t see me. Throughout the night, his heart pounded erratically, and his eye twitched incessantly. All he saw before him was my face as I knelt in the pouring rain, and as I knelt before Seraphina at the press conference. A face that had moved from despair to a haunting tranquility. Just as he could no longer bear it and was about to rush out to find me, his secretary burst in. “Lord Jack, something terrible has happened! Lady Clara… she has fallen from the cliffs!”

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After my husband’s affair, I gave him and his mother a taste of their own medicine—They threw the first punch, after all. 1 In the two months before I discovered his infidelity, Mark, who never cared for grooming, began secretly spraying cologne. A woman’s innate intuition told me he might be having an affair. Just a week prior, he had come home utterly intoxicated. I watched him, insensible with drink, and quickly helped him to bed, then brewed him a sobering broth. It was then that his phone screen suddenly lit up. A message appeared on the display: [I’m pregnant, Mark! You’re going to be a father! Aren’t you happy?] I unlocked his phone. A torrent of explicit messages and brazen flirtations unfurled before my eyes. I couldn’t believe these words, exchanged with another woman, came from Mark—the husband who had shared my life, who supposedly cherished our child, our home, and me. My hands trembled as I held the phone, reading each piercing word. Tears streamed from my eyes, large drops splattering onto the screen. I clapped a hand over my mouth, terrified my sobs would awaken Mark. I couldn’t fathom that the husband who, to outsiders, appeared utterly devoted and loving, was in fact this kind of man. Finally, I understood why Mark, who had once adored me, had recently grown so critical, his eyes betraying faint disdain and disgust. He had, it seemed, already found a cherished paramour outside our home! I forcefully wiped away my tears, took a deep breath, and compelled myself to calm down quickly. Then, I pulled out my own phone, saving their chat logs, as well as the mistress’s personal information and address. Afterward, I placed Mark’s phone back where it belonged, pretending as if nothing had happened. The next morning, Mark, as usual, sprayed his cologne, preparing to leave for work. I stood by the doorway, holding our son, and asked him: “Will you be home for dinner tonight?” Mark lowered his head, continuing to put on his shoes. He remained silent for a moment. I pressed on: “Tonight’s our son’s birthday. Please come home for dinner!” Mark finally straightened up, merely grunting, “Hm,” without turning, and then left. I watched Mark’s retreating back, my heart turning to ice. That evening, the table was laden with an array of exquisite dishes. Mark sat at the table, holding our son, clapping and singing “Happy Birthday.” I raised the wine glass before me, observing this charade of a devoted father. Mark glanced at me, his face showing impatience, and urged me to begin the meal. “All you’re good for is cooking. And your looks are mediocre at best. Now, after childbirth, you’ve gotten fat and even uglier. You can’t even earn a penny. Tell me, what use are you?” Mark’s words stunned me so completely that I couldn’t react for a long moment. I couldn’t believe those words had come from his mouth. Every past memory, every tender moment, now felt like a performance. At this moment, I finally erupted! I slammed the glass onto the table, pointing at Mark’s nose. “Regretting it now? Did you feed your eyes to the dogs back then?” “Evelyn, please understand your place. Don’t bark orders at me, and certainly don’t point your finger! You’re no longer the pampered lady you once were! If it weren’t for me, you’d be out on the streets, scraping for scraps. This house? Only my word counts here! You do what I say. Otherwise, you can get out!” “Mark, have you forgotten something? This is my house! My parents bought this property for me! What right do you have to tell me to get out?!” “Yours? What do you mean ‘yours’?! Don’t forget, when your family went bankrupt, it was my money that bailed you out! Now you can’t pay it back, so the house is collateral! If it weren’t for you giving the Thorne family a healthy son, I’d have thrown you out long ago!” “You’re utterly shameless! What do you mean ‘your money’? That was my dowry from my parents! After we married, you clung to me like a leech, starving yourself for three days, subtly coercing me into entrusting the money to you! Now it’s ‘your’ money again? You want us to repay a debt, do you? No chance!” Mark’s words at that moment made me want to tear him apart. I had never imagined he could be this kind of person, completely unlike the Mark I once knew. The man before me was utterly despicable and cruel! Mark was about to continue arguing with me, but our son’s frightened cries interrupted him. I quickly snatched our son from his arms, soothing him as I turned and entered the nursery. Looking at my sleeping son in my arms, an idea suddenly sparked in my mind! I would divorce Mark, and I would repay all the hurt and pain he had inflicted on me tenfold, hundredfold, a thousandfold! I would make him suffer dearly! Every night, Mark habitually ate an apple before sleeping. So, under the pretense of slicing his apple, I also prepared a bowl of warm porridge. This was no ordinary porridge; it was a special blend I had concocted. Upon entering the master bedroom, I feigned an apology to Mark, humbling myself and flattering him in various ways. Under my coaxing, he finished the specially prepared porridge. After eating, Mark contentedly licked the corners of his lips, praising my cooking profusely, and asking me to prepare a separate bowl for him every morning. 2 And so, following Mark’s request, I prepared a bowl of my ‘special’ porridge for him every morning. However, beneath my outwardly amiable and gentle demeanor, my plan was unfolding. After Mark left for work, I took our son to my parents’ home. I recounted everything that had happened recently to my mother, Martha. Martha said nothing, but turned into the kitchen, retrieved a packet of fox nuts and water chestnuts, and handed them to me. She said: “Since he’s so fond of other women, you, as his wife, mustn’t be ignorant. It’s just a man; let her have him. Remember, when you go home, don’t argue with him. Just brew these fox nuts and water chestnuts into a broth for him. It will help him ‘strengthen his constitution.’” With that, Martha firmly patted my hand several times, deliberately emphasizing the words “strengthen his constitution.” I understood her subtle meaning and accepted the fox nuts and water chestnuts. After lunch, I left my son at my parents’ house and took a carriage alone to a Muay Thai training hall far from home. That’s right, I enrolled in Muay Thai. Like Mark, I also needed to ‘strengthen my constitution,’ just in a different way. Every day, I shuttled between my home, my parents’ house, and the Muay Thai hall. And I never forgot to prepare the fox nut and water chestnut broth for Mark every Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday. One day, as I passed by the study, I heard Mark on the phone with his mother, Agnes. He was saying that his mistress was four months pregnant, and he wanted Agnes to come to the city to care for his future daughter-in-law. He also asked Agnes to hold onto the deed to the house for him. On the other end of the line, Agnes’s voice immediately rose several octaves upon hearing “house deed.” She happily agreed. I peered through the crack in the door, seeing Mark about to exit the study. I pretended to be just passing by. Mark saw me approaching and called out. “What is it?! Something wrong?” I asked. “My mother is coming to stay in the city for a while. You can go stay at your parents’ house then!” I looked at him with utter bewilderment. He must have thought I hadn’t understood, so he repeated himself. Before he could finish, I snapped at him loudly, “Why should I go back to my parents’ house? Your mother can come if she wants. Is she some blushing maiden who can’t be seen? This house is enormous, with so many rooms; isn’t that enough for just her? Does she need me to move out too? Is she an octopus, needing a room for each leg?!” I no longer spoke to him with my former meekness. “Oh, what way is that to speak?! I just thought you two wouldn’t get along, alright? What if I go to work and you two start fighting at home?!” “I’m not insane. As long as she doesn’t cause trouble, I won’t do anything to her!” Seeing that I was being difficult, Mark found himself with no recourse and had to let me have my way. Two days later, Agnes, Mark’s mother, arrived at our house, laden with heavy bags, looking travel-worn. The moment she stepped inside, she tried to assert her dominance. Agnes stood at the doorway, extending her dust-laden shoe, subtly indicating that I should bend down to remove it for her. I pointed to the slippers on the floor and said: “Mother-in-law, the slippers are right there. You can change into them yourself.” “I’m old, I can’t bend down.” “Old? Then why are you carrying such heavy bags all the way from the village?” Agnes was momentarily speechless, choked by my retort. I quickly added more fuel to the fire: “If you can’t even bend down to put on shoes, I wonder what Mark was thinking, asking you to come help with the child. I’ll have to speak with him later; he’s truly unfilial!” “Nonsense!” Agnes was flustered, quickly coming to her son’s defense. “Mark… Mark is not unfilial? Mark is the most filial and accomplished child in our village! My Mark, he is the most devoted to me! He promised to buy a grand house and bring me here to live, and hasn’t he done just that?!” The moment she mentioned the house, I immediately flared up. “Mother-in-law, please understand that this house was bought by my parents for me. Mark’s name was added as a mere formality. Under current law, Mark didn’t contribute a single penny; this house has absolutely nothing to do with him.” “How can it have nothing to do with him? What do you, a woman, know! What’s yours is my Mark’s! Husband and wife shouldn’t differentiate between ‘yours’ and ‘mine.’ Besides, what does a woman need so many houses for? In our village, a woman’s words don’t count for much. At home, everything must be decided by the man.” “Yes, Mother-in-law. Tomorrow, I’ll go to Elder Mr. Davies’s house in our village and tell him to marry you quickly! That way, you won’t feel like your words don’t count for much in the village anymore, and you’ll have a man at home to keep you in line.” I retaliated with biting sarcasm. Elder Mr. Davies was an old bachelor in Mark’s village. Ever since Mark’s father passed away, The two of them had often exchanged suggestive glances. Elder Mr. Davies would frequently come under the guise of bringing food to the “widow and orphan,” but secretly, he and Agnes had started an affair. When Mark found out, he chased Elder Mr. Davies for miles with a knife, intent on harming him. After that incident, Elder Mr. Davies never dared to associate with Agnes again. This was a piece of gossip I had overheard when I last returned to Mark’s village. Agnes, after hearing my words, seemed to recall something. She glared at me, and in an instant, her face turned crimson with embarrassment. 3 One day, when I returned from the Muay Thai training hall, I heard sounds of pleasure emanating from the bedroom. I tiptoed to the bedroom door, pressing the doorknob, and quietly opened the door a crack. Peering through the gap, I saw two naked bodies entwined. It was Mark and a woman with long, curly hair, both stark naked, engaged in unspeakable acts. Watching the two of them performing such lewd acts on the bed, I trembled with rage. Just as I was about to burst in and slap them both silly, I remembered my mother’s recent advice: always have evidence. With irrefutable proof, he wouldn’t be able to deny it! I suppressed my disgust, pulled out my phone, and began recording the shameless pair, securing my evidence. Just then, the woman on the bed suddenly asked in a sickeningly sweet voice: “Darling, what’s wrong now? Why are you not performing? You used to last at least half an hour, and now you can’t even make it twenty minutes! Tell me, are you seeing other women while I’m not looking?” “Oh, my little darling, how could I dare mess around behind your back! You’re pregnant now, aren’t you? We have to be careful for the baby’s sake!” “Hmph! Even if I gave you ten times the courage, you wouldn’t dare mess around behind my back! And, have you found that woman’s house deed? You promised me that after I joined you, you’d move me into a house even bigger than this one. Don’t tell me that when the baby’s born, we’ll not only lack a big house, but you’ll make my child and me sleep on the streets!” “Don’t you worry! My little darling, tomorrow I’ll make my mother force her to hand over the house deed. I refuse to believe I can’t handle that old hag!” Hearing Mark and his mistress’s conversation, I finally fully understood that for all these years, he had married me solely for my family’s fortune. Now that my family was bankrupt, he was setting his sights on this house. This house was bought by my parents for me when Mark and I got engaged. At the time, it cost over 400,000 Crowns. Its location was excellent, and if sold now, it would be worth at least 800,000 Crowns. I closed the door, then turned and rushed straight to the attic, where I found the house deed. Mark would never in a million years guess I’d put the deed in the attic. Before the wedding, my mother had warned me to be clever in all things, saying Mark was no easy man to deal with. At the time, I foolishly believed Mark loved me, and that once married, there would be no secrets between us. But fortune is fickle, and I was too naive back then. I never imagined Mark would cheat. Ever since I found out about his infidelity, I became more cautious and secretly hid the house deed in the attic. I took the house deed back to my parents’ home and gave it to my mother, Martha, who hid it in the most secure place in our house. Three days later, I was hanging clothes on the balcony. Agnes, Mark’s mother, approached me with a fawning expression, calling, “Daughter-in-law, daughter-in-law.” I glanced at her, asking coldly, “What is it? Why so affectionate? Our relationship isn’t usually this warm, is it?” “Oh, look at you! We’re family now, what’s all this about good or bad relationships?” “Do you need something?” Agnes pretended to smooth a sheet I had just hung, then said, “Oh, your mother-in-law doesn’t have much to say, just wanted to ask you, you’ve been married to my son for so long, who manages the money?” “Why do you ask?” “No reason, Mother-in-law was just asking. I was chatting with the ladies in the neighborhood, and they said women in the city manage the money, don’t they? So you manage Mark’s money too?” “Not at all. I’m not as fortunate as them. I can’t manage your son’s meager funds.” Hearing this, Agnes’s face grew even more smug. She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and said: “Actually, your mother-in-law has wanted to say this for a long time. It seems you have some self-awareness. I also think you’re unlucky. Your family went bankrupt just a few years after you married. Your parents should have had a son back then, why a daughter? She’ll just be a money-losing commodity when she marries! Look how lucky my son is! He’s a general manager at a young age, and lives in such a grand house!” “Your son is lucky, but whether he can afford such a grand house depends entirely on the blessing of this ‘money-losing commodity’! Otherwise, for a country boy like him, he’d work his whole life and never afford such a grand house!” “You…” Agnes, furious, was about to retort, when she suddenly remembered something and instantly changed her demeanor. “Yes, yes, Evelyn, you’re right. My Mark owes all his success today to your blessing. If it weren’t for you, my Mark wouldn’t even have a wife by now.” “Mother-in-law, just say what you want directly! No need for all these twists and turns, beating around the bush.” “Then your mother-in-law will be direct, alright? It’s about the house deed, you have it, don’t you?” “Yes, I do! What about it?” “It’s nothing much, just that I see you work hard with the child. Such a valuable thing as a house deed should be entrusted to your mother-in-law for safekeeping!” “What? Did I hear that right! Mother-in-law! Why should I entrust the house deed to you! You didn’t pay for the house, and besides, wouldn’t it be safer somewhere else than in your hands?!” “Hmph, what way is that to speak, girl! You’re refusing a toast and asking for a penalty, are you? Since you married into our family, you must obey your in-laws, obey your man! Your man is your sky! And you dare not defy the sky, or you will be struck by lightning!” “Oh, so I married into your family to suffer tribulation, did I? And be struck by lightning? If your son is so powerful, tell him to try and strike me down!” Agnes’s face turned beet red with rage. She grabbed the clothes hanger, intending to strike me, muttering furiously, “You little wretch, are you rebelling now? If you upset me, tomorrow I’ll tell Mark to divorce you!” “Divorce then! Divorce! If we divorce, this house won’t have a single penny to do with him! Go ahead and hit me. After you’re done, I’ll immediately get a medical report and call the Royal Bailiff to have you arrested, and you can rot in jail for life!” Agnes flinched when she heard me threaten to call the authorities. She immediately stopped her movements. She certainly didn’t want to end up in the jailhouse just for trying to get a house deed. She quickly forced a yellow-toothed smile and said, “Mother-in-law was just scaring you, dear. How could I ever hit you! Look how precious you city girls are, a mere scare and you want to send your mother-in-law to jail! If people in our village found out, wouldn’t they laugh at the wife our old Thorne family married?!” “Good that you know. This is a lawful society now, not your village where you can just hit people as you please. Hitting someone will cost you money and a jail sentence!” I glared at Agnes, snatched the clothes hanger, and turned to leave. 4 That evening, Mark called to say he wouldn’t be back for dinner; he was meeting with a client. I simply said, “Oh,” and hung up. After dinner, I received a call from Lady Eleanor, inviting me to a tavern. I left my son with Agnes, changed my clothes, and went out. Upon arriving at the tavern, I spotted a man whose back resembled Mark’s. I quietly approached and, indeed, it was him! He stood near the entrance, chatting merrily with a few other men. I trailed them. After watching them enter a private room, I discreetly noted the room number. Half an hour later, estimating the time, I found an excuse to tell Lady Eleanor I needed to step out for a moment. When I reached Mark’s private room, I pushed open a crack in the door, observing the suggestive atmosphere inside. A woman was wrapped around Mark’s neck, sitting on his lap, her hands roving over his body. In a short while, the woman and Mark were openly engaged in intimate acts in front of everyone. Seeing this, the others in the room also followed suit. I pulled out my phone and recorded the entire scene. “Hello! Is this the Royal Bailiff? I want to report a public disturbance at The Golden Bell Tavern, room number 111. There’s an illicit gathering in progress.” I hid in the darkest corner of the stairwell, watching as the Royal Bailiff burst into the room and took Mark and the others away. I handed a tip to a tavern servant, asking him to call the mistress and inform her to collect him from the precinct.

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During a snowy photoshoot, my boyfriend, Lucas, wanting to amuse his idealized crush, Seraphina, suddenly grabbed me and executed an over-the-shoulder throw. “Just a joke, look at your silly face, haha!” That day, Seraphina Vance’s smile was the most beautiful she’d ever captured. Mine, however, was shattered. My right hand was broken, and I would never again wield a surgical scalpel. Later, Lucas developed a rare disease. The only doctor in the entire country capable of performing the specific surgery he needed was me. The moment he threw me to please his “white moonlight,” he didn’t just break my hand; he broke his own life. 01 It was a rare heavy snowfall in Arcadia City. After lunch, I was strolling through the hospital with a few colleagues when we stumbled upon Seraphina Vance, who was photographing the snow. During our student days, she was known throughout medical school as the cold, distant beauty, her personality even more frigid than the surgical scalpel she wielded. She never smiled. She was the unattainable goddess for countless male students. “Dr. Vance!” a male colleague called out, handing Seraphina a hot coffee to warm her hands. “It’s freezing out here, why are you alone?” “Thank you. I prefer solitude,” Seraphina replied, turning away dismissively. Her skin, kissed by the sunlight, seemed dusted with a thin layer of frost, luminous and ethereal. Everyone wanted a group photo under the snow-laden trees. So, I pulled out my phone, took on the role of photographer, bending low to find the perfect angle and distance. My fingers traced the air as I counted down: “Three, two…” Just as I reached the final count, a sudden whoosh of wind swept past my ear. My boyfriend, Lucas Reed, appeared seemingly out of nowhere. With a boisterous laugh, he hoisted me up from my bent position, and slammed me down with a vicious over-the-shoulder throw, my right shoulder crashing towards the ground! Thud! “Look at that silly face of yours, hahahaha!” I plunged into the deep snow, the buried tree roots beneath me trembling subtly from the impact. Snowflakes cascaded from the branches, swirling like something out of a fairytale. And then, Seraphina Vance, in a rare, breathtaking moment, broke into a wide, radiant smile, stunning everyone present. 02 Why would Lucas do that to me? Was he deliberately trying to humiliate me, just to elicit that knowing smile from Seraphina? And what had I done wrong to deserve it? My mind went completely blank for several seconds. It was only when a wave of profound injustice and fury began to surge through me that I realized my entire right shoulder felt numb, my right hand utterly lifeless. All I could manage was a choked gasp: “Help…” “Wow, Dr. Vance, this photo is absolutely stunning! I’ve known you for seven years and this is the first time I’ve seen you smile!” Lucas, meanwhile, had picked up my phone and, like a child presenting a prized toy, proudly shared the picture with everyone. “He’s right, Dr. Vance should really smile more, it’s truly beautiful!” “Lucas, quick, help your girlfriend up! How could you do that?” Lucas laughed, dismissing their concerns. He knelt in the snow and began to dig me out. “Skylar and I are always playing around; we’re like buddies. She’ll be fine…” His words died in his throat as his gaze suddenly met my dull, lifeless eyes. When he dug a little deeper and saw my grotesquely twisted right arm, a wave of pure panic washed over him. 03 “I’m so sorry, Skylar, I was just joking… I didn’t mean to…” My right shoulder had been pierced by a sharp branch or root, bleeding profusely, and I was rushed into the emergency room. The Chief of Staff and the hospital’s Deputy Director, who had just finished a grueling shift, their faces turning grim when they saw me, followed close behind to oversee my emergency treatment. Lucas clung tightly to my left hand, his eyes rimmed with red, frantically wiping the melting snow from my face. He trembled uncontrollably, a picture of desperate fear. He was stopped at the door of the operating theater, and in the last second before the doors swung shut, I looked at him, my voice eerily calm, and uttered a single word: “Get out.” 04 When I regained consciousness in my hospital room, Seraphina Vance was speaking quietly with the nurse, inquiring about my medication. The room was heavy with the sickly sweet scent of plum blossom essential oil, so cloying it even masked the antiseptic. On my bedside table, Seraphina’s phone lay, its screen still on. She had posted that snowy group photo to her social media. Lucas Reed was the first to like and comment: “You should really smile more, Dr. Vance. You’re beautiful when you smile.” I stared for a few seconds, a cold realization settling in. Then my gaze drifted to the medical chart beside the phone. Whether it was carelessness or deliberate intention, Seraphina had left my chart there, easily accessible. As a surgeon myself, I understood the contents immediately. My right hand would never again wield a scalpel. 05 The crisp rustle of paper was eerily loud in the quiet room. Seraphina glanced back at me, coolly retrieved the chart, and said nothing. Though we shared the same mentor and were now colleagues, our interactions had never been close. Seraphina rarely engaged with men, and even less so with other women. We had nothing to say to each other. “Skylar, are you awake? I’m so sorry, so, so sorry.” Lucas Reed’s voice broke the silence of the room. He had just come off an all-night surgery, his handsome face slick with sweat. His tall frame cautiously approached my bed, and he gently took my left hand, still separated by the blanket. “I just wanted to play a joke on you, Skylar, I really did. I’m so sorry.” “I’ve already informed your parents, don’t worry!” “…You just have a fracture, a small surgery in a few days. Our old Chief of Surgery will perform it himself, and I’ll be there too. Your right hand will definitely recover!” Lucas’s voice trailed off, trembling like a bewildered child. He lowered his head, repeatedly stroking my fingers. Seeing my silence, he managed a strained, shaky smile, then with trembling hands, pulled a small velvet box from his pocket. “Oh, look at my memory! Actually, yesterday, I wanted to propose to you.” 06 Seraphina Vance had silently slipped out at some point. Lucas’s gaze burned with a desperate, feigned passion. “Arcadia City has never seen such beautiful snow. I just wanted to propose to you amidst it all… First, I’d annoy you, then surprise you with the proposal. You know, like they do online. I honestly just wanted to play a joke! I’m so stupid, I deserve to be punished. I promise it will never happen again!” But the box held a very ordinary ring, showing no sign of careful thought or preparation. Did I believe him? Lucas seized my numb, unresponsive right hand. “Marry me, Skylar Greene.” The air was terrifyingly silent, so quiet I could almost hear the steady drip of medication into my IV line. Suddenly, I laughed. Lucas immediately sagged with relief, pressing his cheek against my hand, nuzzling like a fawning puppy. “Look at you, pathetic fool.” I used my good left hand to grab a handful of his hair, my eyes cold and sharp. “Still thinking about proposing at a time like this? You should be heading to the police station to give your statement. You deliberately assaulted me.” “You provoked me for a proposal? Don’t make excuses for your mistakes. Back then, all you cared about was humiliating me and making your goddess happy. Do you think I’m an idiot?” “Furthermore, the people you should apologize to most are my patients. They painstakingly waited for their surgery slots, specialized procedures that only Professor Sterling, at ninety-six, and I could perform in the entire country. Now my hand is useless. Who will help them now?” 07 Lucas’s mouth gaped open, speechless with shame at his lies being exposed. The quiet hospital room was left with only me. The water stains from melted snow spread slowly across the ceiling, like my own future, hazy and directionless. Closing my eyes, the hopeful, expectant faces of my patients flashed rapidly through my mind. How would I explain this to them now? “Honestly, Lucas, it’s not your fault. Accidents are unpredictable. Skylar is just a young woman; you need to coax her more. She’ll come around once she understands.” My eyes snapped open at the sound of the voice. Seraphina Vance was standing just outside my room, comforting Lucas. “Perhaps this is why I dislike closeness with anyone. I can’t bring myself to take out my frustration on innocent people. Should you unconditionally blame your boyfriend just because he is your boyfriend? I find that kind of hysterical woman rather distasteful.” I honestly thought I was hallucinating. What the hell was Seraphina yapping about? Lucas let out a heavy sigh, his voice hoarse. “Dr. Vance, you’re right, I understand. Regardless, it’s all my fault. I love her; I can’t be as clear-headed and rational as you.” “Dr. Vance, you care about Skylar too, don’t you? Coming to sit by her bed yourself. I thank you on Skylar’s behalf. You should go rest now.” Through the slatted blinds, I could vaguely see Seraphina standing before Lucas. Lucas helplessly rubbed his face, and then, with a reverent tenderness, leaned against Seraphina— “Thank you, Dr. Vance.” …I expressionlessly picked up the phone. “Hello, 911? I’ve been maliciously assaulted by a colleague, and I suspect they’re attempting murder!” 08 Lucas Reed and I met in college. If there was anything that truly drew me to him, it was perhaps his genuine sincerity. He was utterly transparent with me, supporting me unconditionally in everything, like a loyal, clumsy dog, wagging its tail furiously for its owner. I never had to question his feelings; I just needed to slowly teach him how to love, how to navigate a relationship… But now, I no longer wanted to spend my life raising a boy. He could give me his sincerity, but his soul would forever tilt towards that sacred, incorruptible goddess. He made me sick to my stomach. My parents rushed to the police station. After learning the full story, they fully supported my decision. What kind of “joke” makes you throw your girlfriend over your shoulder without hesitation? He had destroyed my career. And afterwards, he had the audacity to tell my parents that I had simply “accidentally slipped” at the hospital and injured my arm. 09 Facing all my accusations, Lucas Reed didn’t offer a single word of rebuttal, accepting any punishment. In the end, it was the hospital’s Director and Chief of Surgery who stepped in to mediate, hoping to keep the incident from escalating. Lucas was facing indefinite suspension, and his lawyers were negotiating a settlement, only asking that he avoid jail time to prevent a negative image for the hospital. Furthermore, my ninety-six-year-old mentor, Professor Sterling, was still hospitalized and comatose, and no one wanted to upset the old man by making a big fuss. A settlement? Fine. Then Lucas Reed had better prepare his money. The hospital quickly arranged surgery for me, urging me to focus on recovering my right hand and nothing else. But on my first day of hospitalization, the nurses’ station erupted into an argument over overtime. With two surgeons out of commission in the surgical department, all shifts and surgeries had to be rearranged, leading to a massive increase in workload. Seraphina Vance, passing by on her rounds, stopped at the nurses’ station, her voice like ice. “Complaining won’t help. If you nurses are tired, don’t you think the doctors are too?” “It was merely an accident, and your Dr. Greene just threw a tantrum and escalated things, causing her boyfriend to be suspended too. Don’t blame anyone but herself.” “Don’t mind me for being blunt, I’m just stating facts.” 10 The nurses at the station froze. She hadn’t been present, didn’t know the full story, and yet Seraphina Vance, the aloof goddess who notoriously avoided gossip, spoke with such conviction that her words were naturally compelling. As Seraphina turned to leave, I swiftly rushed forward and grabbed her wrist— “Dr. Vance, speak plainly. Stop with the passive-aggressive remarks. What do you mean I escalated things?” “Look closely, I was the one who was harmed! If it were you, if your boyfriend threw you for no reason, breaking your arm so you could never hold a scalpel again, and then tried to claim it was just a joke, an accident, wouldn’t you be furious? Wouldn’t you demand accountability? Then you must be a saint in disguise!” The nurses’ expressions shifted. I pulled out the group photo, placing it on the table. “Dr. Vance was right there. When Lucas threw me, you were smiling so incredibly radiant! What was going through your mind? Were you really that happy?” Seraphina’s slender body swayed, and she bit down hard on her lower lip, the blood slowly draining from her face. She was about to speak when a sudden powerful shove from behind sent me sprawling. Lucas Reed had positioned himself between us, shielding Seraphina behind him. “Skylar, Dr. Vance doesn’t understand all this backstabbing between women! Just say less. This whole thing is my fault.”

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After my husband’s death, his grieving parents suggested his twin Owen take his place as my husband and the baby’s father. My sister-in-law Celeste was furious, calling me shameless before fainting in rage. That night, I went to talk sense into my in-laws—but overheard my mother-in-law ask, “Liam, why did you claim you died when it was Owen?” His sigh was heavy. “Celeste can’t know the truth—her weak heart wouldn’t survive it. I only married you to help her be with Owen. Now that you’re pregnant, we’re even. I’ll live as Owen and care for Celeste forever.” The horror hit me: my “late husband” wasn’t Liam—it was Owen. At breakfast, I calmly announced, “You wanted me to move on? I will—by ending this pregnancy.” The man feeding Celeste suddenly stood up. 1 The funeral for my husband, Liam, was a blur of grief. Soon after, a new shock: I was pregnant. For this child, I forced myself to suppress the suffocating pain in my heart, terrified that my despair would somehow harm the tiny life growing inside me. But Liam had always had fertility issues, a low sperm count. This pregnancy was excruciatingly difficult. Every day meant injections to protect the fetus, and I vomited so relentlessly I often came close to blacking out. In just over a month, I’d wasted away, losing twenty pounds, a mere shadow of my former self. Eventually, my in-laws couldn’t bear to watch my suffering. They urged me to let go of the baby, to forget Liam, and to embrace a new beginning. But I refused them every time. Liam had been so good to me; how could I possibly give up our child? Truth be told, my initial engagement had not been to Liam, but to his older brother, Owen. However, just before the wedding, I was abducted and subjected to horrific abuse for three days and nights. Owen, deeming me “tainted,” broke off the engagement and married Celeste Chen instead. It was Liam who rescued me from my tormentors, battered and bruised. He’d taken multiple stab wounds himself, yet he clung to me fiercely, his grip unyielding. He knelt before my father, his gaze unwavering, declaring his long-held love for me and his desire to make me his wife. For years, everyone had said he was madly in love with me. And under his tender care and gentle affection, I had slowly, painstakingly, mended the deep scars within my soul. But our happiness was fleeting. Just three years into our marriage, he died in a car accident. My world crumbled. For a time, I’d wanted nothing more than to follow him to the grave. It was this child that reignited my will to live. Our baby was his only bloodline, his last legacy. I swore I would keep this child, even if it cost me my own life. Seeing my resolve, my in-laws ceased their attempts to dissuade me. But the very next day, during lunch, they dropped a bombshell. They proposed that Liam’s twin brother, Owen, should take on the responsibilities for both families – to care for me and the child in my womb. I was about to voice my immediate refusal when Celeste Chen suddenly snapped. She slapped me across the face, screaming accusations of shamelessness. Celeste had always been frail, and before I could even explain myself, the sheer force of her rage overwhelmed her. She fainted. Owen, my supposed brother-in-law, merely frowned, shooting me a look of displeasure, before cradling Celeste in his arms and rushing her out of the room. 2 Celeste’s slap had caused me to bleed, threatening the fragile life within me. I was confined to bed for two days before I felt even marginally better. I bore no ill will towards Celeste. Given my past engagement to Owen, her jealousy was understandable. Besides, setting aside the deep love I had for my husband, Liam, even if our relationship hadn’t been strong, my in-laws’ suggestion was utterly ludicrous. Neither Owen and Celeste, nor I, would ever agree to such an arrangement. Feeling a pang of guilt for having caused Celeste to faint, I made my way to my in-laws’ room as soon as I could stand. I planned to persuade them to abandon this preposterous idea, to never mention it again. And after convincing them, I intended to personally apologize to Owen and Celeste, to reassure them. But as I approached their door, my steps faltered. I heard my mother-in-law’s voice from within, laced with confusion: “Liam, it was clearly your brother who died. Why on earth did you insist it was you?” Liam? Wasn’t that my husband’s name? He wasn’t dead?! The man who died in the car crash… it was his older brother, Owen? I felt as if struck by lightning, my eyes wide, frozen in place. This… how was this possible? I vigorously shook my head, convinced I was hallucinating. But then, the man’s voice confirmed my worst fears. “Mom, Celeste must never know about this. She’s always been so delicate, with a weak heart. If she knew it was my brother who died, she wouldn’t be able to bear it.” Owen—no, I should call him Liam. My husband, Liam. He paused, then sighed again. “Besides, Celeste was always the one I truly loved. My marriage to Elara was merely a means to facilitate Celeste’s union with my brother. Now, I’ve given Elara a child; I don’t owe her anything more. From now on, I will take my brother’s place and care for Celeste for the rest of our lives. Please, don’t ever bring up that idea of me taking on responsibilities for both households again. It would only upset Celeste.” 3 “But Elara has suffered enough already!” my mother-in-law protested, her voice pleading. “To sabotage her engagement to your brother, to ensure Celeste and your brother could be together, you had Elara abducted for three days and nights, subjecting her to unspeakable trauma. Now she’s finally started to heal, and she’s carrying your child. It’s only right that you look after her, at least a little…” But Liam cut her off impatiently. “Enough, Mom! To ‘compensate’ her, I ignored the mockery of being labeled a cuckold and willingly married her. I devoted myself to caring for her for three years, helping her overcome her trauma. Isn’t that enough? Do you want me to spend my entire life paying her back? Mom, I’ve suffered for three years, pretended for three years—I’ve had enough! Living with her, every single day has been torture! Now, fate has given me a chance to return to Celeste’s side, and I refuse to let this opportunity slip away…” They said more after that, but I couldn’t hear it. My body felt chilled to the bone, and my chest felt as if a knife had plunged into it, twisting with unbearable pain. Stumbling back to my room, I saw my reflection: I was trembling uncontrollably, my face streaked with tears. So, the man who died in the car accident wasn’t my husband at all. It was his brother, Owen. And Liam’s devotion, his gentle affection these past three years – it had all been a lie. The woman he loved, from the very beginning, was Celeste, just like his brother. Even worse, the person who had orchestrated my abduction and torment was Liam himself. His motive? Simply to ensure Celeste could marry Owen. If they didn’t want to marry me, they could have broken off the engagement honorably. But instead, they chose to destroy me! And the most pathetic part? I had mistaken this monster for my savior. I was even prepared to risk my life to bear his child… 4 Though I tried desperately to calm myself, the hatred and fury raging within me still brought tears to my eyes. The next morning, I descended the stairs, my eyes swollen and my face deathly pale. I saw Liam carefully tending to Celeste, feeding her. They were nestled close, a picture of sickening intimacy. From a distance, they looked like a perfectly awful pair. I clenched my fists, the sharp pain in my palms bringing a cold clarity to my mind. Soon, Celeste noticed me. A flicker of triumph crossed her eyes when she saw my disheveled appearance. Then, as if to provoke me, she buried her head in Liam’s chest, whining playfully. Liam, his entire focus on Celeste, continued to dote on her, utterly oblivious to my presence. I lowered my gaze, watching his adoring smile directed at Celeste. A bitter, hollow laugh echoed in my mind. This kind of affection – I had never once seen it in three years of marriage. I gently touched my belly, then calmly settled into a dining chair. I began to eat, picking out the most nutritious items, forcing myself to consume every bite. I would terminate this pregnancy, restore my health, and then make those who had hurt me pay, tenfold! Once I’d eaten my fill, I calmly wiped my mouth. Across the table, Liam had finished serving Celeste. He finally lifted his head to look at me. Seeing my swollen eyes and pale face, he paused, a momentary flicker of guilt crossing his features, likely assuming I was still grieving his supposed death. But then his face hardened, and he spoke, his tone displeased: “Elara, I know you’re deeply saddened by Liam’s passing. But I will not agree to take on responsibilities for both households. My heart belongs only to your sister-in-law, Celeste. I can’t spare a single ounce of affection for you.” Celeste’s eyes gleamed with even greater triumph. Yet, she feigned concern, saying, “Elara, you didn’t cry all night because my husband refused to take on those extra responsibilities, did you? I’m so sorry, I was too impulsive yesterday. But… but I truly love my husband, and I can’t give way on this…” As she spoke, her frail body trembled, and her eyes welled up again. She clutched her chest, appearing utterly distraught. Liam was overcome with sympathy. He scowled at me, a warning in his gaze, then gently embraced Celeste, comforting her. “Celeste, don’t worry. I will only ever love you. I’d sooner die than touch another woman.” 5 How utterly ironic. Then what about the child in my belly? Was it conjured out of thin air? Still, he was, in a sense, “dead” to me. I suppressed the bitter ache and burning rage in my heart, turning away from the sickening display of their affection. I forced myself to nod, feigning indifference. “You can rest assured. The idea of taking on responsibilities for both households is absurd, and I would never agree to it.” Liam looked at me, a flicker of surprise in his eyes. I looked up to see my in-laws descending the stairs; they too had overheard my words. Their expressions were etched with concern as they gazed at my pale face and swollen eyes. My mother-in-law spoke, her voice hesitant, “Elara…” I looked at them, my emotions a tangled mess. Since I’d married into this family, they had indeed treated me well. Their sympathy over the past few days felt genuine. But then I remembered: they knew everything about Liam orchestrating my abduction and torment. They had simply kept it from me. My feelings for them became incredibly complicated. The words “Mom and Dad” stuck in my throat. “You heard me. The idea of taking on responsibilities for both households is absurd. I don’t agree.” My mother-in-law, perhaps recalling Liam’s words from yesterday, finally gave up trying to persuade me. She merely sighed. “I know, Elara, you have deep feelings for Liam and can’t forget him. You certainly wouldn’t agree to this. But, your mother-in-law truly sympathizes with your plight…” She paused, glancing at Liam, then continued earnestly, “Elara, Liam is gone, but you’re still alive. One must always look forward. Your mother-in-law still wants to advise you: don’t dwell on him forever. Move on, start a new life.” Liam and Celeste, having heard my refusal to the “two households” arrangement, visibly relaxed. Their expressions softened. Liam, however, looked at me with a new, complex gaze. Listening to his mother’s words, he too began to feign concern, offering hypocritical advice: “Elara, Mom is right. Liam is gone. No matter how deeply you love him, you are now separated by life and death. There can be nothing between you. In the future, you still have a life to live. It’s best to forget him soon. It’s good for you, and good for him. Fortunately, he left you a child, a glimmer of hope. Even without him, you can still live your life with his child. For the sake of the baby in your belly, you must be strong and move on.” Listening to Liam’s pompous pronouncements, I couldn’t help but inwardly sneer. A child? He still expected me to bear his child? Delusional! My heart was filled with mockery, but on the surface, I maintained a facade of gratitude, playing along with their words. “You’re right. I thought about it all night yesterday and finally understood. Before, I was truly stuck in a rut, causing you all to worry. And since Liam had fertility issues by birth, and this pregnancy is so difficult, it must be fate’s decree that his bloodline should end. So, I want to follow fate’s will, listen to your advice, terminate this pregnancy, completely let go of him, and remarry to start anew.”

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My best friend, Briar, and I passed on the same day, spending five long centuries in the Underworld. Then, one day, Briar had a vivid dream. She told me: A century in the Underworld is merely a year in the living world. We hadn’t truly died in our car accident; we’d simply fallen into comas. If we sacrificed ourselves here, we could awaken back on the mortal coil. With those words, she leapt into the Cauldron of Transmutation, dissolving into a wisp of emerald smoke. The Chief Judge, who moments ago had been sneering at Briar for being theatrical, now let out a gut-wrenching wail that tore through the very fabric of the Nether Realm. I turned to look at Lord Valerius, Sovereign of the Dead. He held his beloved, Elysia, close, conjuring a shimmering barrier to shield her from the splashing ethereal oil. “My love, I’m leaving too.” I followed Briar, diving headfirst into the searing Cauldron. Behind me, a tormented roar echoed, as if someone desperately tried to snatch me back. But no one mattered. Briar and I had promised each other we would go home, together. 1 “Elysia, the Celestine Spirit, is preparing for Rebirth! Lord Valerius and Chief Judge Caspian are both clamoring to protect her, even proposing to make her their primary consort!” “Really? But don’t they already have consorts?” “Hmph. Those two can’t compare to their true soulmates, can they?” At Briar’s quincentennial celebration in the Underworld, spirits whispered amongst themselves. The guest of honor, however, was neither of the two men who claimed they were “too busy” to attend. It was Lyra, the ethereal beauty, and the subjects of the whispers were Lord Valerius and Chief Judge Caspian. Briar, disbelieving, stumbled towards the Acheron Crossing. There, she saw the Chief Judge, who had whispered sweet nothings to her just last night, now gazing devotedly at Elysia, the Celestine Spirit, poised for Rebirth. “Elysia, at last we meet again. These five centuries, I haven’t forgotten you for a single moment.” The Arbiter’s Quill, an artifact no one dared touch, was now reverently placed in Elysia’s delicate hands, a token of his devotion. And my own consort, Lord Valerius, gently took Elysia’s hand, guiding her to sit upon his Obsidian Throne. He offered her his Soul-Bound Artifact, a Primal Conduit, to shield her essence. His voice was laced with profound tenderness: “The Underworld is cold, my dear. Do not let your essence be harmed. It would worry me so.” With a sweep of his hand, countless tormented spirits were released from their bonds, their accumulated merits all attributed to Elysia. The spectral multitude hailed her as their Sovereign Lady. Witnessing this scene, my heart ached with a bitter understanding. Five hundred years ago, Briar and I perished on the same day. As our souls drifted into the Underworld, we found ourselves amidst a raging chaos of lost spirits. To protect Lord Valerius, who had lost his Primal Conduit, I disregarded my own safety and plunged into the Infernal Pits, battling my way through the infernal hordes to retrieve his artifact. Briar, meanwhile, aided the Chief Judge, who had lost his Arbiter’s Quill, in quelling the restless specters. When the Divine Courts later issued a decree of censure, we took the blame, shielding them from official repercussions. I endured unspeakable torment within the Spectral Gaol. The Chief Judge had suggested Lord Valerius use his Soul-Bound Artifact to protect my soul. He refused, stating that his Primal Conduit was sacred and could not be lent. Yet, he promised to love and protect me forever. I had believed him implicitly, thinking it was his unyielding principle. But now, seeing him tenderly bestow that very artifact upon Elysia, it felt like a cruel, absurd mockery. Clearly, his ‘principles’ were merely convenient lies, bending to suit his desires. Briar’s gaze remained fixed on the Chief Judge, who hovered solicitously around Elysia. She let out a pained, bitter laugh. “Anya,” she said, her voice thin with despair, “I’m tired of revolving around him.” She was truly heartbroken. When we first arrived in the Underworld, Briar had fallen instantly in love with the Chief Judge. To help him recover his lost Arbiter’s Quill, she had sacrificed four of her own Essence Threads. Later, though the Chief Judge managed to restore her Essence Threads, she endured a century of torment in the Cauldron of Transmutation for taking the blame for his negligence. Her soul, like mine, had become almost translucent. Now, the Chief Judge, who had sworn to protect her forever, saw only his beloved Elysia. How could a woman so consumed by love not be in agony? Briar sent a telepathic query to the Steward of Souls, inquiring about rebirth. The Steward warned us that our souls were unstable, making us vulnerable to memory erasure or even transmigration into the animal realm, condemning us to never meet again. He urged us to reconsider. My gaze settled on the figure beside Elysia, perched on Lord Valerius’s Obsidian Throne. I remained silent. I had once gone to great lengths to sit beside him on that throne. But he had always gravely reprimanded me, saying it was “improper.” He had claimed the throne was for the Sovereign alone; even his consort could not transgress that rule. Now, it was clear. The true mistress of that throne was never meant to be me. A sharp pang shot through my heart. I looked at my increasingly translucent soul-form and whispered, “I just want to leave this place. To leave him.” 2 Briar and I had suffered enough. We found the Steward of Souls and demanded reincarnation, a new beginning. But the Steward looked troubled. “You are the consorts of Lord Valerius and Chief Judge Caspian. How could I make such a decision without their consent?” “Your souls are fragile, constantly nourished by their Soul-Bound Artifacts. If anything goes wrong during reincarnation, I cannot bear the responsibility.” We, too, couldn’t bear to sever our deep bond of sisterhood. So we decided to wait until our souls naturally dissipated, hoping that would allow us to be reborn together. Lord Valerius and Chief Judge Caspian had once promised that if our souls scattered naturally, we would be granted rebirth, a ploy to keep us in the Underworld. At the time, Briar and I had staunchly believed we would never leave them. Little did we know, they would be the first to betray us. In the days that followed, Lord Valerius and Chief Judge Caspian continued to dote on Elysia, utterly absorbed in their devotion. Briar and I, meanwhile, spent our time with our pet dog, Whisper, exploring the Underworld, trying to reclaim the wasted years. We never intended to cross paths with Elysia, but she seemed intent on stirring trouble. One day, in the Phantom Bazaar, Elysia falsely accused Whisper of running into her, threatening to banish the little spirit. We intervened, and she seemed rather annoyed. “Let’s see how long you can protect this little beast!” she taunted. Briar and I didn’t pay much mind to Elysia’s words, dismissing them as idle threats. But ten days later, she delivered a truly ‘grand surprise.’ 3 That day, Briar and I, unwilling to witness our respective partners doting on Elysia, had quietly slipped out of Necropolis Prime for a meal and some recreation. We only separated to return to our chambers when the evening feast was due to begin. I was delayed slightly, retrieving something from my dwelling. As I reached the entrance of the Sovereign’s Citadel, I heard Briar’s heartbreaking cries. Panic seizing me, I burst inside, catching Briar as her body plummeted. She was covered in injuries, her soul-form rendered almost transparent. “What happened?” I cried, my voice laced with urgency. Briar struggled to stand, channeling her essence into a spectral blade, furiously lunging at Elysia: “Elysia, I’ll have your life!” In five centuries, I had never seen Briar so enraged. She was willing to risk total dissipation just to strike Elysia down. But the Chief Judge merely flicked his Arbiter’s Quill, sending Briar crashing to the ground. Elysia, nestled against his chest, looked on like a victor, a mocking smile playing on her lips. “Briar, don’t test my patience,” the Chief Judge warned, his voice cold. Briar gazed at him, her face contorted in pain. She hadn’t even had a chance to voice her anguish before Elysia preempted her. Elysia stood there, fragile and delicate, clutching her chest, her face pale. “It’s not Briar’s fault,” she murmured, “She didn’t know I’m afraid of spirits in animal form, so she didn’t control that little beast, causing me to be startled.” “A few days ago, that creature made me stumble, and I let it go. But today, I was truly terrified, so I dispelled its three souls and seven ethereal facets.” “Briar claims she treats that dog as family, which is why she attacked me. I don’t understand, how can you treat a beast as family?” My eyes widened in shock at the sight of a shimmering orb of light hovering in the air. It was Whisper’s soul essence! The orb circled me a few times, then dissolved completely. I gasped, a mouthful of fresh blood spraying forth, staining the opulent hall. The metallic scent ignited my rage. Whisper was our cherished companion, Briar’s and mine. Even in the living world, he had been the sweetest dog. When he passed and came to the Underworld, fearing our loneliness, he voluntarily gave up his chance at rebirth to stay with us. For five centuries, his presence had been a profound comfort in this alien realm. Briar and I had even planned to send Whisper to be reborn into a happy life before our own souls dissipated. But now, Elysia had severed his path to rebirth with a single strike. We had lost our only family member here. How could we not be in agony? Elysia, meanwhile, was playing the aggrieved victim, causing the Chief Judge to dote on her even more. Briar watched it all, her torment erupting in a raw scream: “That’s a lie! Whisper never charged you! You deliberately cast a spell on him, which is why he panicked and ran wild!” Elysia, feigning shock, hid behind the Chief Judge, murmuring, “I lost my abilities ages ago. Don’t fabricate lies to deceive everyone.” “If you’re jealous of my bond with Chief Judge Caspian, just say so. Why stoop to using a mere animal to frame me?” “This time, I’ll be magnanimous and forgive you. But don’t let there be a next time.” “You lying cheat! Today, I’ll make you pay in blood!” Briar, driven to a furious frenzy, exerted all her strength to break free from the Arbiter’s Quill’s restraint, lunging at Elysia. But before she could get close, the Chief Judge unleashed a spell that sent her tumbling. He then cruelly stomped on Briar’s hand, humiliating her before all the specters. Briar’s face was etched with pain as she stared at the man she loved, tears streaming down her face. “Caspian, Whisper was my family! You promised to protect us both forever. Why are you shielding her now?” The Chief Judge pressed down harder with his foot, his voice cold. “Beasts are not fit to be my family. As my consort, you should be obedient and proper, not arrogant and insolent.” “I told you, no one can harm Elysia. Not even you.” Briar looked at him, a bitter, twisted smile on her lips. “Whisper once saved your life! You personally imbued him with divine light, saying he was our most important family member.” “Now, to please Elysia, you let her kill our family! Caspian, you’re worse than a beast!” The Chief Judge’s face darkened. He plunged the Arbiter’s Quill directly into Briar’s hand. Briar let out a cry of pain, head thrown back, while Elysia smirked triumphantly. “Do you admit your fault? If you do, apologize to Elysia at once. Otherwise, I’ll throw you into the Infernal Pits,” the Chief Judge threatened. Briar’s face was pale. She smiled tragically. “Five centuries ago, I rescued you from the Infernal Pits. Now you want to send me back. A full circle, indeed.” “If I could, I wish I had never saved you, never believed your sweet words and stayed in this wretched Underworld.” The Chief Judge, enraged, summoned his spectral wardens to seize Briar. I lashed out with my Aether Lash, knocking his hand away and shielding Briar behind me. Two more lashes sent the Chief Judge scrambling for cover, looking utterly disheveled. “For the wounds on Briar’s soul, you will repay a thousandfold.” The Chief Judge’s face was grim as he stared at me, daring not to speak. After all, I was Lord Valerius’s consort. Even if Lord Valerius didn’t favor me as much, I was still his superior in the Underworld hierarchy. Briar clutched my hand tightly, her voice trembling with sobs. “Elysia not only dissipated Whisper’s soul, she threw Whisper’s remains into the Cauldron of Transmutation and fed them to the spectral wardens.” “Anya, I want her to suffer the same fate!” I secured Briar within the Soul-Sanctum Tower to help her soul recover, comforting her. “Don’t worry. I will make her fate far worse than Whisper’s. Rest your soul now, don’t speak.” My words carried a strong murderous intent. All the spirits knew: Whisper was my family too. The moment I raised my Aether Lash, the Chief Judge immediately activated a defensive ward, nervously shielding Elysia behind him. He knew the true power of the Soul-Binder Whip, a wedding gift from the Divine Courts upon my union with Lord Valerius. Even celestial beings struggled to evade its might. Earlier, when I struck him, I hadn’t used my full power. Now, my lash crackled with divine energy. A single flick could dissipate Elysia’s soul. But my target was not just Elysia… 4 It was Caspian too. He had personally harmed Briar for Elysia’s sake. This debt, I would collect. If not for his and Lord Valerius’s sweet words and passionate pleas, Briar and I would never have forsaken the path to reincarnation to become their consorts in the Underworld. Five hundred years, for them, was but a blink of an eye. But for Briar and me, it had been a long and arduous journey. They had betrayed their vows for Elysia. Should such despicable men be allowed to live? I was a mortal soul-form. Even married to Lord Valerius and imbued with some divine light, my raw power couldn’t match the Chief Judge’s. But my resolve to kill them was absolute, so I sacrificed a portion of my soul, pushing the Soul-Binder Whip’s power to its absolute zenith. With a single lash, the Chief Judge was sent flying like a broken kite, his robes tattered, blood gushing from his mouth. His disheveled state pleased me. But I was still not satisfied. Compared to the suffering Whisper and Briar had endured, his injuries were nothing. “Now it’s your turn.” I pointed the whip at the pale-faced Elysia, ready to end it all. I intensified the burning of my soul essence, using my blood as a conduit, and the whip flew like a sharpened blade towards Elysia, who stood beside the Chief Judge. But just then, a powerful force deflected my whip. The lash snapped back, striking me. I was thrown violently to the ground, blood oozing from my eyes, nose, mouth, and ears. I struggled to rise, desperate to strike Elysia one last time. But my Soul-Binder Whip slipped from my grasp. A surge of arcane energy struck my limbs, binding me, leaving me sprawled on the ground. I lifted my head, battered and disoriented, to see my Soul-Binder Whip held by my seemingly gentle consort, Lord Valerius. His gaze was cold and unforgiving. “Is this how you conduct yourself as my consort? Bullying the weak, arrogant and insolent. You deserve punishment.” His fingers moved subtly, and I felt my soul-form being torn apart by a thousand invisible spirits, the agony so intense I nearly blacked out. He knew the Soul-Binder Whip was bound to my soul-form; if it were destroyed, I would dissipate. But he didn’t intend for me to vanish so easily. He meant to torture me slowly, to appease the visibly shaken Elysia. Watching him tend to Elysia with such care, I couldn’t help but laugh through my tears. A century ago, I had endured a hundred years of bone-gouging pain in the Spectral Gaol for taking the blame for him. He had refused to use his Primal Conduit to protect me, instead traveling to the Divine Courts to request the Soul-Binder Whip for me. He then used his own heart’s blood as a conduit, binding the whip tightly to my soul. He had held me then, promising, “Anya, become my consort. I will always protect you, love you. No one can harm you, not even I.” But now, those vows had become razor-sharp blades, twisting within my heart, making the pain a dull, unbearable throb. Lord Valerius held the weeping Elysia, comforting her tenderly, yet his eyes held utter revulsion as he looked at me. “Anya, who gave you the audacity to harm my esteemed guest?” “That little beast startled Elysia; its death was well-deserved. Instead of apologizing to Elysia, you sought to harm her.” “From this day forth, you are no longer my consort. Confine this criminal to the Eighteenth Infernal Pit, let her reflect on her transgressions!” Briar and I were cast aside, dismissed by our consorts. One imprisoned in the Shadowlands, the other trapped in the deepest reaches of the Infernal Pits. Centuries of devotion and sacrifice, instantly reduced to dust. I had thought this was the wretched end of our tragic fate. But I never imagined they wanted more than just our subjugation…

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Three years ago, the one I loved most cast me out of the country. Three years later, I could finally return home. But I no longer loved Harrison Thorne. Yet, everyone still regarded me with warning glances. “Alice Greene, still trying to cling to Harrison? Still trying to ruin Lydia’s relationship with him?” “Three years overseas and you still haven’t learned your lesson. Harrison was too soft; he shouldn’t have let her come back.” “Exactly, a rotten seed like her should be in jail, should have just died abroad.” I just watched them in silence. But later. I heard a piece of news that shattered me. I mumbled, bewildered. “John Reed.” “Have any of you seen my John?” “Please, don’t be dead.” “You promised you’d come back for me.” I descended into a madness that lasted for days. Finally, no one thought I was putting on an act anymore. Harrison pushed through the crowd and held me tight. His hands, though, were trembling. “Alice, what’s wrong?” “Who is John Reed?” “Don’t scare me like this, please.” 1 I had been back in the country for less than an hour. Already, I’d received over a dozen warning texts. “How dare you show your face?” “Didn’t the thugs overseas give you a good beating? You’re so asking for it.” “Why didn’t your plane explode and take you with it?” … I ignored the messages. Instead, I pulled out my laptop, opened my email, and quickly sent a message. It was a simple one. “I’m safely back home.” The email sent, the recipient’s profile picture remained black. And it would never reply. I stared blankly at the screen. Hearing footsteps, I closed my laptop. A woman with her hair intricately pinned up entered. It was my mother, Eleanor. “Alice, why are you looking at your mother like a stranger?” I remained lost in thought for a moment. My mother dabbed her eyes and left. That evening, I heard things crashing in the study. “Is she blaming us?” “She pushed that poor Lydia off the stairs. Lydia was in a coma for three months!” “Enough, let it go.” “It’s all in the past. Harrison and Lydia are getting engaged soon. We can’t afford any missteps now.” My hand, clutching a glass of water, trembled imperceptibly. I turned and quietly slipped away. 2 The next morning, I sat hunched over my laptop. Midway through, I headed downstairs to grab something to eat. My mother was in the living room, watching TV. Suddenly, the news anchor announced: #BREAKING NEWS: THORNE INDUSTRIES ANNOUNCES THE ENGAGEMENT OF MR. HARRISON THORNE AND MS. LYDIA VANCE, SET FOR MID-NEXT MONTH.# I froze, stunned. An engagement on an island resort? I remembered a time, so long ago, when I had clung to Harrison, pleaded with him. “Island resorts are so romantic. Can we have our engagement there, please?” He had merely looked at me, cold and annoyed. “Alice, can you stop making a fuss?” “I’m working.” Seeing his displeasure, I immediately became docile, sitting quietly beside him. “Okay, okay, I won’t say another word. You focus on your work.” The memory flickered, then faded. I snapped back to the present. My mother saw me and jumped. “Alice, why are you downstairs?” “Are you going out? Where are you going, darling? Mom will come with you.” She was already telling someone to grab her purse. Then she fumbled for the remote, wanting to turn off the television. Watching her anxious, flustered movements, I understood. She was simply terrified that I would, like in the past, cling to Harrison like a stubborn burr. But, Mom, I won’t. Never again. “No, I’m not going out. Just came down for a snack.” “What?” I had already grabbed a bottle of milk and turned to go back upstairs. On the stairs, my mother still looked surprised. “Alice, you…” I sniffed. “Mom, you can watch TV. I’m going back upstairs to work.” 3 After Thorne Industries announced the engagement, old scandals resurfaced. Including the widely circulated rumor that I, in a fit of madness, had pushed Lydia Vance down the stairs that year. Half the online comments offered congratulations; the other half condemned me. “OMG, finally announced! Congrats, forever happiness!” “Hehehe, happily ever after, babies soon!” “Must be happy!” … “Where’s Alice Greene now? Too ashamed to show her face? Probably dying of jealousy.” “Heard she was forcibly sent abroad.” “She’s truly evil. Did she really think Harrison would like her if she ruined someone else’s life?” “All her schemes and calculations, haha, in the end, they failed. Bad people never get good karma.” I stared numbly, then closed the webpage. But at dinner that evening, I never expected my father, Patrick, to bring Harrison Thorne home. I was just coming downstairs for dinner when I saw them. I froze at the top of the stairs, my body rigid. How could he be here, at the Greene estate? As the esteemed CEO of Thorne Industries, he would have known about my return the moment I stepped foot on American soil. No. I could only return because he had given his consent. My father wouldn’t have dared bring me back otherwise. My father gestured for Harrison to go to the study. Then he subtly signaled my mother to quickly take me away, lest I cause trouble. I lowered my head and followed my mother to the living room. The study door wasn’t fully closed. With just a glance, I could see his tall frame. His perfectly tailored black suit, his sharp, neatly styled hair. He was always a king among men, no one more handsome, more commanding. I turned my head for another look. It seemed my father was looking for some documents. Harrison hadn’t even sat down. The tea on the table remained untouched. He took the item and prepared to leave. “Alice, darling, help Mom look at this bag. What do you think?” My mother tried to distract me. I turned back, helping her inspect the bag. “It’s beautiful, Mom.” 4 Five minutes later, a pair of long legs emerged from the study. My mother rose, politely trying to detain him. “Harrison, won’t you stay for dinner?” Of course, we both knew he wouldn’t linger at the Greene estate. But no one dared offend the Thorne family. Harrison finally turned, his gaze sweeping over me—the only time he’d looked at me since entering the house. What kind of look was it? Detached. Indifferent, as if looking at a complete stranger? I sat stiffly on the sofa, unmoving. In the past, I would have rushed over, excitedly linked my arm through his, calling him “Harrison, darling.” But now, I remained quiet, as if the man before me no longer held any significance. He gave a slight nod. “No, Eleanor. I have other commitments.” He lifted his foot, pulling his gaze from me, and moved to stride away. He took two steps. Suddenly, I clenched my fists and spoke. “Wait.” The man who had walked two steps stopped. He stiffened for a moment, then turned sideways. My mother had already clutched my arm, a look of dread on her face. “Alice, what are you… Harrison said he’s busy.” I felt the sharp pinch of my mother’s fingers on my arm. His eyes, too, darkened a few shades. “Yes? What is it, Ms. Greene?” Good. I no longer called him “Harrison, darling.” And he, too, addressed me coldly as “Ms. Greene,” not “Alice,” not even my given name. I took a deep breath. “There’s something I need to give you. Please wait a moment.” I pulled my hand free and dashed upstairs. I punched in the code, opened the innermost drawer, and retrieved a square box. Then I ran back downstairs. Below, everyone looked at me with cold disapproval, as if I were about to cause another scene. But when I presented the deep blue, square box, their coldness instantly melted. My parents seemed to understand. “This is something I got from your grandmother a while ago, but it doesn’t suit me. I’m returning it to you. It belongs to its rightful owner.” It seemed my intentions were not what he had expected. When I handed it to him, he looked surprised, the dark cloud on his face dissipating. The box contained an antique bracelet, passed down through generations of the Thorne family. No one had ever believed in our relationship, but Grandma Thorne had been particularly fond of me. On my twentieth birthday, she had given me this bracelet, a symbol of a future granddaughter-in-law. I, too, had once believed I would surely become the Thorne family’s daughter-in-law. It was much later that I realized those were merely unrealistic, fragile dreams. He stood silent for a long moment. Then, he finally reached out and took it. Harrison Thorne left with the bracelet. My mother came over, gently patting my head in a comforting gesture. 5 A week later, I started my new job at City General Hospital. My undergraduate degree was in medicine, and I had spent over two years at a medical research institute overseas. My parents were still a little uneasy, though. I knew they had hired someone to follow me. I wasn’t angry. After all, Harrison Thorne and Lydia Vance’s engagement couldn’t afford any disruptions from me. It would bring ruin to the Greene family. I desperately wanted to tell them it wouldn’t happen. The old Alice had died long ago. And the current Alice no longer loved Harrison Thorne. I never imagined that just a few days into my new job, Lydia Vance would book an appointment with me. We sat facing each other, the air thick with awkwardness. She claimed to have a slight cough, but seeing her extremely mild symptoms, I knew she wasn’t there for medical reasons. She was there to confront me. I prescribed her a mild medication. She clutched the prescription, not moving to leave. Then, she slowly removed her sunglasses. “Alice, you’ve lost some weight.” The old social circle, those people—I wanted nothing to do with them anymore. Especially Lydia Vance. We had once loved the same man. And I had lost utterly. I sidestepped her comment, my tone flat. “The pharmacy is on the ground floor. I need to see my next patient.” She still didn’t leave. She just stared at me. “You’ve changed, completely. You used to be the liveliest among us. You were never this quiet.” I offered a faint smile. “Ms. Vance, are you here for medical treatment, or do you have another agenda?” She fell silent. She put her sunglasses back on and left. But as she pulled the door open and stepped out, my gaze fell upon her feet. Three years ago, she had tumbled down the stairs, her leg severely injured. She underwent several surgeries and lost a lot of blood. That incident was why I carried the blame. At the time, only the two of us were upstairs. I vehemently insisted she had fallen herself. No one believed me. Harrison lifted her, his face etched with agonizing concern. “Harrison, I didn’t push her.” I tried to explain, but before I could finish, he kicked me hard in the stomach. “Get out.” That was the first time I had ever been hit. And probably the first time he had ever struck a woman. Within two days, I received a lawsuit from Thorne Industries. Lydia Vance wasn’t a Thorne, but Harrison Thorne was determined to get justice for her. I almost went to jail. It was rumored that old Mr. Thorne had intervened, changing my sentence to forced exile from the country. I instinctively touched my abdomen. His kick had been powerful. Now, every rainy day, that part of my belly aches.

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The new CEO fired me, not knowing I was the owner’s son. “You want me out? Does my father know?” Faced with my challenge, the man claiming to be the CEO’s son scoffed, “Who the hell is your father?” “Some pathetic nobody like you? I can fire you whenever I want!” I smirked, dialling my father’s number. Two and a half seconds later, a fleet of Maybachs pulled up outside the company building. He finally panicked, dropping to his knees and begging for my forgiveness. 1 The company had just brought in a new CEO, and he promptly fired me, completely unaware of my hidden identity. Monday morning. I hurried into the office, the sound of a furious tirade already echoing from within. “Who in their right mind hired someone named Kingsley?!” The moment I stepped through the door, I saw a chaotic mess on the desk, my computer shattered on the floor. Before I could even react, a deep, resonant male voice barked, “Hold it right there!” “You’re the one, aren’t you? With that inauspicious name!” I froze, momentarily stunned, pointing incredulously at myself. He stood there, arms crossed over his chest, his eyes narrowed as he scrutinized me. His gaze settled on my ID badge. “Alexander Kingsley?” His face immediately hardened, his voice chillingly stern. “You’re a bad omen for the company’s fortune. You’re fired!” Manager Davies, standing nearby, bowed low, his head bobbing frantically. “Mr. Sterling, please calm down, sir.” I lifted my gaze, taking in the impeccably dressed man before me. His disdain for me was palpable, undisguised. So, this was Lucas Sterling, the new CEO who had been parachuted into our company. New broom sweeps clean, they say, but I never imagined I’d be the first dust bunny swept out. And what an absurd reason for dismissal! My colleagues were equally stunned, their heads bowed, not daring to breathe. I glanced at the boot-licking Manager Davies. “Does the company even have such a policy?” After a brief, awkward silence, he cleared his throat, adjusting his tone to one of forced formality. “It’s about following upper management’s directives.” I scoffed, a soft ‘tsk’ escaping my lips. “You’re firing me? Does my father know about this?” Lucas Sterling reacted as if he’d just heard the funniest joke in the world, a sneering, arrogant laugh bursting from him. “Who the hell is your father?” he challenged, his voice dripping with condescension. “My father is Richard Sterling, the CEO of Titan Holdings. Some pathetic worm like you? I can fire you whenever I want!” The moment the words left his mouth, the office erupted into a flurry of whispers. “No wonder he came in as CEO right away. He’s Lucas Sterling, the young master!” “Alexander Kingsley just bit off more than he could chew! Nobody can save him now.” Lucas kicked my shattered computer aside, then pointed a contemptuous finger, motioning for me to leave. I stood rooted to the spot, my eyes wide with a dawning realization. He was my father’s son? Then who was I? 2 The reason my surname is Kingsley is because my mother passed away in childbirth, and my father chose to give me her family name. But I had no idea my father had another son with the same surname as him, Sterling. I pulled out my phone, about to call my father and confirm, when Lucas’s phone rang. He immediately broke into a wide, beaming smile as he answered, putting it on speaker for everyone to hear. Clearing his throat, he chirped, “Dad.” The man on the other end spoke, his voice deep and authoritative. “Good, good. Make a strong impression today. It’s your day to assert your authority.” Lucas shot me a venomous glare, then complained into the phone, “Didn’t you say I’m in charge here? I just fired some flunky who pulled strings to get in, and now I’m being threatened.” His voice was tinged with a petulant whine, a stark contrast to the swaggering bully he’d been moments before. My father immediately adopted a stern tone, backing him up. “Who’s being so arrogant? Daring to defy the Sterling name like that! Tell him to report to HR immediately!” Lucas smirked triumphantly at me, shaking his phone. But I couldn’t believe my ears. That familiar voice, like a bolt of lightning, shattered the quiet hum of my thoughts, leaving my mind utterly blank. Could my father truly have another son? Lucas loosened his watch, then yanked the ID badge from around my neck and tossed it into the trash can. “From now on, you have no connection to Titan Holdings!” He then turned to Manager Davies. “Go revoke his access! Delete his accounts! The company will not tolerate insubordinate employees or those with a poor attitude disrupting our operations!” He wanted to assert his authority, to make an example of an insignificant employee like me. But he didn’t realize that my ability to thrive in this company, even while hiding my identity, stemmed from sheer competence. I let out a cold snort. “Are you sure you want to do this?” I warned. Manager Davies’s eyes flickered for a moment, but he quickly reverted to a cold, dismissive tone. “Of course. What if you accessed company accounts and tampered with data? The potential losses would be incalculable.” Compared to offending the CEO’s son, getting rid of a minor employee like me was clearly the more pragmatic choice. He swiftly moved to his computer, erasing my presence from the system. Lucas nodded in satisfaction. “Anyone who dares to challenge upper management’s decisions from now on will face the same consequences!” he declared, his voice laced with menace. My colleagues murmured their agreement, no one daring to look at me, terrified of inviting trouble upon themselves. I quietly gathered my few personal items. Before I left, I offered one last parting shot. “You’ll all be crying soon enough.” But Manager Davies remained stubbornly defiant. “I’m warning you, get out now! Don’t be ungrateful!” I didn’t argue further. I simply turned and walked out of the company, leaving everything behind me. For now, I had to find my father and demand a full explanation about Lucas Sterling. 3 What I hadn’t expected was that every single one of my calls to my father went straight to voicemail. A dozen attempts, all unanswered. A knot of panic tightened in my stomach. I rushed home, frantically searching the house, only to find our butler. He bowed respectfully. “Young Master, Mr. Sterling has gone abroad for a conference.” He paused, then added, “He specifically instructed that you and Young Master Lucas should get along well at the company, to foster your relationship.” A furious burst of indignation flared within me. My father truly did have another son! And on his very first day, he’d fired me, his actual son! I was seething, ready to fly out of the country the next day to demand answers. But early the next morning, Manager Davies called. The moment I answered, the shouting on the other end jolted me fully awake. “Alexander Kingsley! Get your butt back to the company, now!” It was Lucas. I paused for two seconds, then asked calmly, “Is there a problem?” Another voice came through the line. Manager Davies’s tone was significantly more polite than yesterday, but still held an air of command. “There’s an issue with the product. We need you to come back and fix it.” I almost laughed out loud from sheer exasperation. “Wasn’t I severed from Titan Holdings?” I retorted. Lucas’s voice, sharp with accusation, cut in. “You were in charge of the project! Who else are we supposed to call when something goes wrong? It’s your obligation to help the company recover its losses!” Manager Davies chimed in, equally self-righteous. “You left without even completing your handover! Mr. Sterling is already being merciful by not pursuing this further. You have one hour to get back to the office.” I let out a soft, mocking chuckle, feigning regret. “Oh, what a pity. I’d love to help Mr. Sterling ease his burden. But my accounts have been deleted. I’m afraid my hands are tied.” On the other end, Lucas completely exploded. “Don’t you dare bite the hand that feeds you!” he roared. “If you don’t come back, I’ll immediately blacklist you from the entire industry! Let’s see which company dares to hire you then!” Listening to his empty threats, I calmly delivered my reply. “You just wait, then.” With that, I hung up and promptly blocked his number. A wave of immense relief washed over me. I had expected those two to come crawling back eventually, but not so soon – not during the product testing phase. I casually opened the overflowing work group chat. Sure enough, Lucas had insisted on personally debugging the system, leading to a complete system crash. The company’s interns couldn’t fix it, so they’d turned to me. I had no obligation to clean up his mess, especially not for my supposedly illegitimate brother. My eyes darkened at the thought. Father still hadn’t called me back, but there was a new message. I opened it. He wanted me to copy some important files from his office and upload them to his email. He was flying back that afternoon and heading straight to the company for a meeting. It was still early. I decided to let Lucas flounder a little longer. A much grander show was about to begin.

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