1 My childhood sweetheart had strung me along for eight years, constantly demanding I earn points by proving myself worthy before I could even be her boyfriend. So, I gave up a chance at a prestigious university, abandoned my secret crush on the girl of my dreams, and sacrificed a bright future. Yet, she turned around and married a rich heir, even mocking me after my parents died, saying I was too pathetic to even end it all. My heart turned to ashes, and I leaped. I never expected to wake up again, back on the very day I’d confessed my feelings to her. Given a second chance, I swore I’d never be her doormat again. I would embark on a life of limitless possibilities. As for her? Well, she was about to get a taste of real hardship. “Chris, I honestly don’t want a relationship right now. I’m sorry.” I looked at the beautiful girl clutching ninety-nine roses before me. She was Sarah, my childhood sweetheart. Seeing her again, though, all I felt was a wave of annoyance. Of all the people to encounter first after rebirth, it had to be her. What a jinx. A woman like her? Not even a dog would date her. “Chris, why are you silent? Can you not always be like this? I really don’t want to date right now.” Sarah’s eyes held a flicker of impatience. “Alright, as you wish.” I nodded, a thrill surging through me. Reborn, I wouldn’t degrade myself like that ever again. I would mend every single regret from my past life. Make money. Lots and lots of money! I wouldn’t let my parents get sick and hospitalized from overwork. I wouldn’t let the girl who secretly loved me wait endlessly. I wouldn’t… “Didn’t you hear me clearly? I just rejected you. Why do you look so happy?” Sarah challenged, her voice edged with irritation. She couldn’t fathom why my reaction to her rejection was such obvious excitement and joy. It clearly irked her. In her mind, I should have been devastated, heartbroken. I should have immediately vowed to prove my devotion, waiting for her to accept my proposal. Then she, satisfied, would have told me that if I passed her tests, she’d eventually become my girlfriend. To hell with that. A woman like you? You’re not even worthy. All I wanted now was money! The thought of it cleared my head, and my excitement intensified. Today, in this very commercial district, a lottery shop had sold a scratch-off ticket worth a million dollars. That winning ticket was the last fifty-dollar scratch-off left in the shop. I knew this with such certainty because, in my previous life, I had gone to buy drinks for Sarah and her friends, witnessing the entire event unfold. I immediately fumbled in my pockets. Only thirty-two bucks. Not enough! I almost slapped myself. If it weren’t for buying those roses for Sarah’s proposal, using up the three hundred-plus bucks I’d scrimped and saved, I wouldn’t be short on cash now. My gaze shot to the roses in Sarah’s hands. An idea sparked. “Give me back the roses.” 2 I didn’t wait for Sarah’s response, simply taking the roses back into my arms. “Those are the roses you gave me. How can you take them back?” Sarah watched, wide-eyed, as I reclaimed the bouquet, standing frozen in disbelief. “You rejected my proposal, so why would you keep my flowers? I can always give them to someone else.” I stated matter-of-factly, inspecting the roses as I spoke. Some parts were already wilting slightly. Annoying. Sarah sputtered, caught off guard. “Chris, I only rejected you this time. It doesn’t mean you don’t have a chance. Freshman year is so demanding, I just don’t have time for a relationship. When sophomore year settles down and it’s easier, I might want to date, and you’ll be the first person I consider.” Sarah quickly changed her tactic. I looked at Sarah with a flicker of disdain, almost gagging. The first person she’d consider? Was that even a human thing to say? My judgment these past years had truly been flawed, to have fallen for someone like this. “I’m being completely honest with you, but there’s one rule: you can’t like other girls, and you definitely can’t pursue them. Otherwise, we’ll truly have no chance.” “I think you should pass that ‘chance’ on to some other poor fool… cough… someone else. I’m just not interested in you.” I casually tossed the words out, then grabbed my bottled water to keep the roses fresh. My words, however, seemed to sting Sarah’s pride. “Chris, love requires perseverance. If you can’t even handle a small setback like this, how can I even consider being with you?” “Then find someone else to test. I have important things to do right now.” “You…” Sarah’s face flushed with anger. “Chris, stop acting up. Sarah genuinely doesn’t have much time right now. She actually cares about you, don’t hold a grudge against her.” “Sarah, you know Chris, he’s just talking out of anger.” At this moment, Sarah’s roommate and best friend, Clara, interjected, trying to mediate between us. Sarah paused, then the corners of her lips subtly curved upward, regaining her confident demeanor. “Chris, I know you’re upset, but didn’t I tell you not to give up? As long as you perform better in the future, you’ll definitely earn more points in my heart.” “I’ve been talking to you for so long, I’m thirsty. Go get Clara and me two bottles of electrolyte drinks, or I’ll never speak to you again.” I sprinkled the last bit of water on the roses. Now, they looked as fresh as if they’d just been wrapped at the shop. Satisfied, I tossed the empty bottle and strode quickly towards the lottery shop. Buy drinks? She just rejected my proposal and already wants to spend my money. How shameless! Sarah, go to hell! 3 Arriving at the lottery shop, I breathed a sigh of relief when I saw the sole fifty-dollar scratch-off ticket still there. “Excuse me, sir, can we make a deal? I’ll trade you this bouquet of roses and thirty dollars for that scratch-off ticket. These roses cost me over three hundred dollars, you can take them home and surprise your wife.” I approached the owner, proposing my trade. The owner paused, seemingly encountering such a request for a scratch-off for the first time. He glanced at the roses in my hand, then smiled. “Alright.” “Your word, right, sir?” “Of course.” I immediately handed him the money and the flowers, took the scratch-off ticket from his hand, and began to scratch. Seeing the winning pattern, I felt a surge of excitement, but kept my face as calm as still water. “Did you win, young man?” the owner asked with a smile. “Ah, no luck.” I didn’t excitedly blurt it out like the man in my previous life. What if the owner went back on his word? Holding the card, I walked out of the lottery shop and hurried to the State Lottery Office. Scratch-off tickets worth over ten thousand dollars needed to be redeemed at the main office. Thankfully, I had brought my ID. This lottery shop was conveniently located not far from the Lottery Headquarters. Soon, after taxes were deducted, eight hundred thousand dollars were deposited into my bank account. I walked out of the Lottery Headquarters, feeling utterly delighted. “Chris, what are you doing here?” An arm slung over my shoulder. I turned to see Ben, my high school friend and college roommate. In my previous life, Ben had been my best brother. When both my parents were hospitalized, he risked divorce by lending me the last ten thousand dollars his family had. It was a drop in the bucket, but I never forgot his loyalty. “Didn’t you say you were going to propose?” Ben asked, confused. “Alright, don’t even mention her. She’s bad news.” I smiled, shaking my head. “Holy cow! Chris, you finally came to your senses! Let’s go, let’s celebrate your escape from misery. I’m treating you to a big feast!” Ben was even more excited than I was. He knew more about my situation with Sarah than anyone else. He had constantly advised me not to be a doormat, but I had never listened, even arguing with him about it a few times. Yet, he never held a grudge and always looked out for me. “Nah, today, I won some money on the lottery. I’m treating you to a big feast. Seafood, let’s go!” I said, grinning. Now with eight hundred thousand in hand, I already had entrepreneurial ideas, but first, I was going to splurge and have some fun. “Are you serious, Chris?! A meal there could cost a grand! How much did you win?” “Eight hundred thousand.” “Oh, glorious benefactor! Allow your humble servant to bow before you!” Ben and I went straight to Ocean’s Bounty Seafood Restaurant, ordered a ton of seafood, and began to feast. Meanwhile, on the other side of town, after I had left, the smile on Sarah’s face had grown even brighter. “Hmph! He still listened to me and went to buy drinks. Chris was definitely just throwing a tantrum in front of me, wanting me to agree to be his girlfriend. How infuriating!” “Later, when he brings back those electrolyte drinks, we’ll just take them and leave without saying a word to him.” Sarah scoffed, her tone haughty. “Sarah, is that really appropriate?” Clara sounded a little hesitant. “Why not? What he said to me today was absolutely outrageous. I have to ignore him for a week to make him reflect on his mistakes. He needs to understand what it means to pursue me. And he actually said he’d give flowers to other girls, implying he was moving on right in front of me. How disgusting!” Sarah said, clearly annoyed. “Aren’t you worried that if you ignore him, he really will go after someone else?” Clara asked, a trace of doubt in her voice. “How could he? I’ve always disciplined him this way, and every single time, he comes crawling back, begging for reconciliation. It never fails. If I don’t let him know how important I am, how will he be completely devoted to me?” “You’ll see. He’ll come back to beg me.” Sarah’s face was full of confidence. “You’re amazing, Sarah!” Clara said, a hint of admiration in her voice. The two continued to chat, sitting on a nearby bench, beginning their wait. 4 Half an hour later, Clara’s throat felt parched from waiting. “What’s up with Chris? Half an hour just to buy a drink?” Sarah’s face was flushed with embarrassment. Clara had already asked several times why Chris hadn’t arrived, and Sarah had fended her off with various excuses. But now, after thirty minutes, she felt she had completely lost face. “I’m so mad! I’m calling him right now!” Sarah furiously pulled out her phone and dialed my number. Lobster, king crab… To celebrate the chance at rebirth I’d been given, I’d ordered a ton of things I wouldn’t have even dared to dream of in my previous life. Ben and I feasted, savoring every bite. Just then, my phone rang. I glanced at it—Sarah’s call—and immediately hung up, stuffing a piece of lobster meat into my mouth. The phone rang again; I hung up again. As calls kept coming, one after another, I simply blocked Sarah’s number. Not long after, Clara’s call came through. I sighed; I didn’t want to be harassed like this, so I answered. “What do you want?” “Chris, why aren’t you answering my calls?!” Sarah’s enraged voice blared from the other end. I held the phone a bit farther away. “Listen, I told you, I’m not interested in you anymore. Please stop harassing me, okay?” “Chris, what exactly do you mean?” “Exactly what it sounds like. Alright, I’m still eating. That’s enough. Let’s not contact each other again, I don’t want people to misunderstand our relationship.” Without waiting for Sarah’s reply, I hung up. “Father! You’re a man among men! This is the true hero I admire!” Ben watched my actions, giving me a big thumbs-up. On the other side, Sarah completely lost her composure. She bit her lip, her eyes misted over, and large tears began to drip. Clara, who had been annoyed by Chris’s no-show, froze. Logically, Sarah had rejected Chris’s proposal, so why was she crying? “Sarah, why are you crying?” “Clara, tell me honestly, haven’t I been good to Chris? Even when I rejected him, I left him a chance, so he wouldn’t feel so disheartened.” “But then he threatened me, saying he wouldn’t pursue me anymore, and that contacting me would lead to misunderstandings, as if he despised me. Isn’t he just going too far? He completely misunderstands my good intentions.” Sarah said, sounding aggrieved. “Chris did go too far, but are you crying because you’ve fallen for him?” Clara pondered for a moment, then decided Sarah had a point. A woman looking for a boyfriend should certainly test him properly. “How could that be? I admit I have a slight crush on him, but he’s been pursuing me for too short a time, only seven or eight years. It would have to be much longer before I might even consider liking him.” “That’s true. But if it’s much longer, what if you meet someone else you like?” Clara suddenly asked. “Then, of course, I’d choose the person I like. Clara, are you being silly?” “What about Chris, then?” “Then I’d just say we weren’t meant to be. If he truly loved me sincerely, he wouldn’t stop me from pursuing a better person, right? A woman fears marrying the wrong man; we women have to be very careful in choosing a boyfriend.” “But the thing is, Chris seems really determined this time.” Sarah paused, then began to calmly think it over. A moment later, she seemed to have reached a realization. She suddenly wiped away her tears, shook her head with a smile. “I almost fell for Chris’s trick. How could he possibly be truly determined? He’s just trying to annoy me.” “He’s probably just really hurt this time. When he proposed to me before, I always responded this way, and he’d be fine within a day.” “Never mind. I’ll go find him myself, encourage him a little, give him a bit of a sweet treat. He’ll probably stop being angry.” Sarah stood up and walked towards the commercial district. 5 Ben and I were enjoying our meal when two figures suddenly appeared by our table. “Chris, you’re too much! Not only did you not buy us drinks, but you hung up and blocked my calls! And then you sneak off to eat seafood here behind our backs!” “You’ve truly disappointed me!” It wasn’t long before two figures appeared beside our table, Sarah angrily accusing me. She had initially intended to encourage me, but seeing me eat such lavish food, she couldn’t hold back her fury and began to scold me. As she spoke, she glanced at the seafood on the table, unconsciously swallowing. Clara reacted in the exact same way. This meal cost over three thousand dollars, and as poor students, they rarely had money for this kind of luxury. I frowned. They were truly like persistent ghosts, managing to find me here. It seemed everything I had said to her today had fallen on deaf ears. “Chris’s money doesn’t grow on trees, why should he buy you drinks? Sarah, have you gotten used to spending Chris’s money? Not even his girlfriend, yet you spend his money. You’re truly ridiculous.” I hadn’t even spoken, but Ben, beside me, said with a mocking sneer, showing Sarah no respect at all. “Ben, what do you know? I’m testing Chris.” Sarah was momentarily speechless, glaring at Ben. “Testing? You mean letting Chris cater to your every whim, letting you order him around, so you can enjoy all the perks of a girlfriend without any of the responsibility?” Ben scoffed. “You’re talking nonsense! I never meant that.” Sarah’s chest heaved with anger, but her eyes held a hint of guilt. “Ben, Sarah and Chris are having a lovers’ spat. Why are you interfering?” Clara snapped, then looked at me. “Chris, I know Sarah rejecting your proposal made you very angry, but there’s no need to upset her like this. All she wants is a sign of your attitude.” “Exactly, Chris, I actually still have feelings for you. If you had just invited us to eat with you, I would have definitely given you bonus points in my heart. It would show that you still consider me the most important person. But you didn’t even bother to invite me.” Sarah, seeing she couldn’t argue with Ben, also looked at me, her face full of disappointment. I almost laughed aloud. This woman truly had a screw loose. I’m supposed to spend three thousand dollars just for her to give me points? Is her dignity plated with gold? Sure enough, the moment the rose-tinted glasses shattered, all that remained was brokenness and ugliness. The “dream girl” had become a woman with countless flaws, even annoying. “Sarah, I already made it clear on the phone. I don’t like you. Can we just part ways amicably?” I pushed aside my internal grumbling and said calmly. “What ‘clear’? What ‘part ways amicably’?! I came to find you myself! What more do you want? Do you, a grown man, need to be so petty?!” Sarah’s voice rose in anger. I was speechless. Talking to someone like her was a complete waste of energy. I scoffed, ignoring her, and continued to eat. I couldn’t let this woman affect my mood or my appetite. “Alright, alright, everyone calm down. Chris, this table must cost a lot, right?” Clara quickly tried to mediate, shifting the topic. “This table cost over three thousand, and my foster father won eight on a scratch-off…” Ben started, a triumphant look on his face. 6 “Ben…” I cut Ben off. There was no need to tell Sarah about this. She was nothing to me anyway. Ben quickly nodded, then shook his head in mock pity. “Too bad someone here doesn’t have that kind of luck.” “Eight what? Eight thousand?” Clara frantically squeezed Sarah’s hand. But Ben and I ignored her. Sarah was startled at first, then she shook her head, her breathing quickening. “It can’t be eight thousand. I know Chris’s personality; if he won eight thousand, he wouldn’t spend over three thousand on one meal.” She actually wasn’t completely clueless about me. “Eighty thousand?” Clara gasped. Eighty thousand dollars in this era was definitely a huge sum. Sarah’s eyes lit up. She was only a freshman in college, but she had matured quickly and already had a grasp of money. Otherwise, she wouldn’t have found a rich heir as a boyfriend in her sophomore year. She was only stringing me along now because she didn’t have a better option. “Chris, I know you’re angry because I rejected you today, and that’s why you’re saying hurtful things.” “I honestly just felt your proposal was too abrupt, and I wasn’t ready, so I turned you down.” “Given how much effort you’ve put into me in the past, give me a little time to consider. In a few days, I might just say yes.” I almost spat out the lobster meat. From a direct rejection to a possible “yes” in a few days, all it took was eighty thousand dollars. Did she think her uncertain answer was worth eighty thousand? Was her mouth plated with gold too? I coldly ignored her words, continuing to eat voraciously. Sarah, seeing me lower my head, thought I was considering her words and immediately brightened. She believed her guess was right, that I was just being stubborn. “Clara, are you hungry? Why am I so hungry?” Sarah suddenly turned to Clara. Clara paused, then immediately understood Sarah’s meaning. “I’m so hungry too!” “Perfect, then let’s just eat with Chris here.” Sarah took the opportunity to sit down. Clara also sat beside Sarah, looking delighted. “Hey, what’s wrong with you two? Chris never said he was inviting you.” Ben couldn’t stand it anymore and immediately spoke up. “Ben, this is between Chris and me. What does it have to do with you?” Sarah said impatiently. “Exactly! Even Chris didn’t say anything, so that means he’s fine with it. Why are you poking your nose into other people’s business?” Clara was annoyed that Ben wouldn’t let her eat the seafood. “Chris, say something!” Ben looked at me anxiously. “Say what? Can’t you keep your mouth shut even while eating?” I didn’t even look at Sarah or Clara, pulling the seafood away from their reach, glaring at Ben and scolding him. Ben froze, disappointment flashing in his eyes. He thought I was falling back into my old habits, and even the seafood seemed to lose its flavor. Sarah, seeing this, became even more convinced I was playing hard to get, that I still couldn’t let her go. The corners of her lips subtly curved upward, confidence returning. “Clara, eat up.” Sarah reached for the seafood, but it was a bit far, and the plates we had eaten from didn’t look appealing. She frowned slightly in disgust, then directly called a waiter. “Clara, let’s order some fresh stuff. I heard online that caviar is good, and Australian lobster…” Sarah spoke with a triumphant air, ordering without a single concern. 7 Soon, their seafood arrived. It was worth at least six thousand dollars, even more lavish than what Ben and I had eaten. Ben watched all this, angrily setting down his lobster and refusing to eat anymore. Seeing me still eating with relish, he fumed at my apparent lack of assertiveness. “Burp…” Soon, I was full, letting out a satisfied burp. “Ugh, Chris, that’s disgusting! Go burp somewhere else, don’t pollute the air here.” Sarah said, her face contorted in disgust. I ignored her, waving at a distant waiter. “Waiter, check, please.” “Chris, we haven’t finished eating. Why are you paying?” Clara said, her mouth full of Australian lobster meat. “Let him pay, it doesn’t stop us from eating.” Sarah smiled, looking at me. “Chris, I’m very satisfied with your proposal today. You’ve definitely earned points in my heart. You’ll have to keep up the good work in the future.” I suddenly felt a wave of nausea. I looked at the huge pile of seafood on their side, then at the approaching waiter, and sneered. Sarah, I hoped this lesson would make you never approach me or disgust me again. “Sir, the total for this meal is eleven thousand one hundred fifty. We’ll round it down for you, so just ten thousand.” The waiter said, holding the menu. “Eleven thousand one hundred fifty?!” I asked, feigning exaggerated surprise. “We only ordered this much. Why is it so expensive?” “Uh… Sir, the items you ordered totaled three thousand one hundred. However, the seafood ordered by these two young ladies totaled seven thousand fifty.” The waiter quickly explained. “Chris, how can you be so cheap? You won eighty thousand, and you care about a little over ten thousand dollars?!” Sarah snapped, her voice low with fury, as she saw people looking our way. She clearly felt humiliated. Sarah’s parents were both salaried employees; their combined monthly income didn’t even reach ten thousand dollars. Yet, she treated my money as if it came from nowhere. I wondered how pathetic I had been in my previous life, trying to please this woman. Ben’s scolding words back then were absolutely spot on. Thank goodness I got to live again. “Them? They didn’t come with us. They just sat at our table, right?” “My order only consisted of these items, and I’m only paying for my own. You can’t put their bill on us just because they ate at our table, can you?” I asked, feigning confusion. As my words fell, everyone present froze. “Oh, I’m sorry, sir, I thought you were all together. My apologies. Your table’s total is three thousand one hundred.” The waiter quickly said, sounding guilty. “Chris, what do you mean?! You invited me to this meal, that’s why I ate it!” Sarah shouted, enraged. “I never said I was inviting you. You ordered these yourselves. What does that have to do with me? Waiter, card, please.” I handed my bank card to the waiter. Clara was so scared she couldn’t eat, stuttering incoherently. “Why didn’t you say this when we sat down and ordered? You’re angry with me, but you don’t have to screw us over like this, do you?!” Sarah slammed the Australian lobster onto the table, her chest heaving with anger. “You’re not related to me. If you come to a restaurant to eat, am I supposed to stop you? Neither law nor morality grants me that right.” I pressed my bank card PIN into the POS machine, shrugging. “Waiter, pack all these up, quickly, quickly!” Ben’s spirits lifted. A look of extreme delight on his face, he pointed to the pile of seafood in front of him with a hint of regret, shouting. After paying the bill, I smoothly stood up and walked out. Ben bounced along behind me, gleefully saying, “Father, well done! I completely misjudged you earlier.” “Chris, you stop right there! Pay for our meal! Otherwise, I’ll never speak to you again! I’m serious!” Sarah, disregarding all dignity, screamed in anxiety and anger, drawing stares from those around us. “Then you’d better be a person of your word.” I almost laughed, quickening my pace as I left the restaurant.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “392786”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

Finally discharged, free from the confines of the mental hospital, I thought I was ready to rejoin the world, a new woman, free from the shadow of my bipolar disorder. But barely two days back in my own apartment, I felt the familiar grip of my illness tightening its hold again. The reason? Some online streamer, who’d apparently moved into the apartment above mine, 702. She was raging, partying every single night, utterly oblivious to the misery she was causing me below. I’d gone upstairs a few times to politely ask her to quiet down. Each time, she’d offer a sickly sweet “Oh, absolutely, I won’t do it again,” only to crank up the volume the moment I left. She was a law unto herself. In the dead of night, the throbbing bass from her latest ‘performance’ ripped through my apartment, shaking the very walls. I jolted awake, my teeth aching from the vibration. That was it. I snapped. My hand closed around the cool, solid grip of my kitchen knife, and I started for the door, heading upstairs. Just then, my phone chimed. A notification from the building’s resident group chat. It was Ashley from 702, tagging me directly. “Next week’s my birthday, everyone else has already sent their gifts.” “When’s yours coming?” “I’m not asking for much, just a couple of thousand dollars will do. Oh, and you’re complaining about the noise, right? How about you buy me some decent noise-cancelling shoes? I wear a size 7, and my husband is a size 10.” I actually laughed. A choked, bitter laugh. Dr. Miller had drilled “stay calm, stay calm” into me before I left the hospital. If not for his persistent warnings, I couldn’t guarantee what would have happened to them. After a moment of consideration, I put the knife down. In the group chat, I typed a single, stark question mark. Her reply was instant. “Looks like you just moved back in, so I’ll let this month slide. But starting next month, I expect a payment of two thousand dollars from you. Every month. Transfer it to my account by the 6th. Be prompt, don’t make me chase you.” I felt like I’d been struck by lightning, the shock rippling through me from head to toe. I’d heard of people asking for birthday gifts, but a monthly birthday? Did her mother give birth to her twelve times a year? I was about to unleash a furious retort when a verification message popped up – from Chloe, who’d just spoken in the group chat. I accepted. A voice note arrived almost immediately, filled with genuine concern. “Girl, you have to stay calm. Ashley from 702? You really don’t want to mess with her. Just send her some money, pretend you’re hard up, say some nice things. It’ll blow over.” “What do you mean?” I demanded, “She’s completely shameless. And you all just enable her?” “Sigh. You’ll understand later.” I put down my phone, my body trembling. A fire raged within me, barely held back by a fragile thread of reason. I let out a low, grim chuckle, the veins in my hands bulging. Enable her? That word wasn’t in my dictionary. Taking a deep breath, I swallowed the impulse to lash out. In the group, I typed: “What kind of demonic entity, reincarnated a dozen times, made your mother give birth to you twelve times a year?” Her response was immediate, like a lit fuse. A piercing shriek erupted from my phone. It made me jump. Then, message after message, a torrent of them. Soon, the group chat hit ’99+,’ all voice notes from Ashley, each a full sixty-six seconds long. A joke. Did she really think I’d listen? When I didn’t reply, she typed out a message. “503, you just wait. You brought this on yourself.” “If anything happens, remember to go after 503! It has nothing to do with me!” The group chat fell silent. I turned off my phone, checked my 7 AM alarm, and lay down to sleep. Just as I was drifting off, it started. The entire building vibrated. Thump-thump-thump! It sounded like a drum kit, amplified. Several times louder than her usual streaming sessions. Great. Now it wasn’t just me, but all the other neighbors suffering. My phone wouldn’t stop buzzing. I thought it would be neighbors ganging up on Ashley. Instead, they were all tagging me. “503, please, have a heart. Have pity on us! My daughter has school tomorrow!” “Seriously! It was only bothering you before, and now we’re all suffering because of you. What kind of person are you?!” I genuinely laughed, a cold, humorless sound. So Ashley was waiting for me there, was she? I immediately tagged Ashley. “Your drumming sucks. Want me to come upstairs and give you some lessons?” Followed by a bloody kitchen knife emoji. The group went silent again. Luckily, I had noise-cancelling headphones. I put them on and managed to drift off. But the next morning, the building manager was at my door. Gary. He said I was disturbing the peace, that neighbors had complained about me. My temper flared instantly. I pulled out my phone and showed him the chat messages. “See? The one disturbing the peace is upstairs. You should be talking to her.” Gary, a slick operator who looked like he’d been doing this job for too long, and clearly had some shady connection with Ashley, sneered. “She’s lived here a long time, never had any noise complaints. And she just said it, didn’t she? You forced her hand.” “Are you blind, dude?” I snapped. “What did I force her to do? Do I even know her? She demanded money from me. So if I don’t give it, it’s my fault?” My nails were digging so deep into my palms it hurt, making me wince. He smirked, his stained teeth flashing as he spoke. “If she made an unreasonable request, you could have discussed it with her, couldn’t you? Was it necessary to provoke her? If you ask me, this is still your fault.” I reached for my kitchen knife. My face was expressionless. “Get out.” He seemed to recognize the shift in my demeanor. He turned and closed the door behind him. Then, my water and electricity went out. I checked online – no overdue bills. I checked my circuit breaker – it hadn’t tripped. I was standing there, shampoo in my hair, my body sticky from not having rinsed properly. No choice but to towel off. I posted in the resident group. “Is anyone else experiencing a power and water outage?” Only Chloe replied. “No, everything’s fine here.” I understood immediately. Gary. That rat. Without another word, I stormed down to the management office. They just kept denying it, insisting it wasn’t them. Gary, the same guy who’d visited my apartment, tried to deflect the blame onto me. “Maybe your plumbing or electrical lines weren’t handled properly during renovation?” Without hesitation, I pulled out my phone, pretending to call the police. “Alright, fine. Let the police come and sort this out.” At the mention of the police, Gary’s face fell. He quickly said, “Alright, alright, I’ll send a technician to check it out. You can head back and wait.” Sure enough, as soon as I got back, the water and power were restored. This confirmed it: Gary and Ashley were definitely in cahoots. But while the utilities were back, the moment 11 PM hit, the wild singing and dancing started again upstairs. Even with my noise-cancelling headphones, I was woken up several times. Damn it, I wasn’t going to sleep! I sat up, frantically rubbing my temples. A sleepless night. My ears were ringing, my nerves frayed, ready to snap. I glared at the ceiling, but a plan began to form in my mind. There’s an old saying: fight fire with fire. The next morning, dragging my exhausted body out for work, I found my doorstep piled high with trash. Even worse, there was a used sanitary pad. I was truly at my breaking point. Just the trash was infuriating enough, but then the building’s cleaning lady, Agnes, came by and started scolding me for littering. “You’re telling me you didn’t throw this out?” she demanded, “Do you have proof? No proof, it’s at your door, it’s yours.” Her incessant lecturing made my head throb. Seeing my obvious irritation, Agnes sighed. “Alright, I’ll let it slide this time. But if I catch you littering again, you’ll be fined.” I was pressing my fingers to my temples, my brain aching, when I caught a glimpse of a figure lurking behind the wall, eavesdropping. It was Ashley. I clenched my jaw. At the office, I immediately ordered a discreet security camera online, opting for expedited delivery and installation. Damn it, she liked to eavesdrop and gloat, did she? She thought she could pick on me because I lived alone and had no proof, huh? Tonight, the technician would install the camera. Anyone shameless enough to dump trash at my door again would have the evidence shoved right into their smug face! During my lunch break, I applied to my boss for a dorm room. Ryan looked surprised. “Didn’t you say you lived nearby?” I made up an excuse. “Living with family, it’s not very convenient.” Ryan nodded and approved it immediately. But I couldn’t move in until tomorrow afternoon. So tonight, I’d have to go back to my apartment. In the middle of the night, she was at it again upstairs. Booming, crashing. I couldn’t sleep, so I decided to search for local live streams. Sure enough, I found her. Online name: ‘AshleyCan’tSleep.’ Stream title: ‘Riverside City’s Hottest Streamer.’ In the stream, she was wearing a tight short skirt, dancing energetically to pulsating music. She was really giving it her all, occasionally speaking in a breathy voice to thank ‘big brothers’ for their gifts. I paid close attention to her viewer count. Over 10,000 live viewers. She actually had a lot of fans. Halfway through her dance, a viewer asked, “Miss, your dancing is amazing, but won’t your neighbors complain?” Ashley saw the message, panting and wiping sweat. “Oh, how could they? My place has amazing soundproofing, it won’t disturb anyone’s rest.” I just scoffed when I saw that. But I also noticed something. Her fans clearly had no idea about her disruptive behavior. I’d overheard Agnes, the cleaning lady, gossiping about my neighbor, apartment 502, who had sold their place for a massive discount – sixty thousand dollars below market value. The reason? Ashley’s late-night disturbances. The family in 502 had an elderly parent with a heart condition. After several attempts to resolve the issue failed, the 502 resident, furious, threatened to beat Ashley. After that, 502’s family suffered intense retaliation from Ashley’s fans, and the elderly parent passed away from stress and illness, exacerbated by the constant harassment. Left with no choice, the family sold their apartment and moved away. Now it made sense. Ashley’s fans probably had no clue what she was truly like. Thinking this, I pulled out my phone and recorded the noise, gathering my evidence. Over the next few days, I specifically studied Ashley’s online accounts and analyzed her routine. She basically stayed awake when everyone else was sleeping, going to bed around 4 AM and sleeping until noon. Perfect! That meant on weekday mornings, everyone would be at work or school. Very few people would be home. After moving all my belongings to the company dorm, I made a quick trip back to my apartment. I checked the newly installed camera by my door, then looked up at the ceiling. Then, I pulled out the ‘Vibration Device’ I’d ordered. Climbing onto a chair, I taped the device to the ceiling, specifically right below her bedroom. I wanted to ensure maximum sonic penetration. I was very pleased with this device; it was small, but incredibly powerful, and crucially, it could be controlled remotely. That day, I slept soundly in the company dorm until morning. I hadn’t slept so comfortably in ages. I stretched, savoring the feeling. The thought of letting Ashley taste her own medicine, the torture of being unable to sleep, made me let out a grim, satisfied chuckle. At work, I glanced at the time. 10:30 AM. I pulled out my phone and opened the audio app. I passionately queued up ‘The Hottest Square Dance Songs of the Century,’ starting with a classic. After three days of this, Ashley couldn’t take it anymore. She started wildly tagging me in the resident group chat. “503, are you insane?! Don’t you know you’re disturbing the peace?!” “Speak up! Why are you playing dead?!” I ignored her. She was so desperate, she actually came to my door and started pounding. On my camera feed, I saw her, furiously running her hands through her hair, banging on my door. “503, you have the nerve to disturb people’s sleep but no nerve to open the door, do you?” “Oh, my apologies,” I said, my voice coming through the intercom. “I haven’t been home these past two days. I forgot to turn off the stereo.” The sudden voice startled Ashley. She then put her hands on her hips and raged, “You weren’t home, so you just left the stereo on?! You’re clearly doing this on purpose!” I replied, “Oh, if that’s what you want to believe, there’s nothing I can do.” Ashley froze for a moment, then flew into a tantrum. “This is disturbing the peace! Don’t you have any public decency?!” When the pounding stopped, she was clearly frustrated, with nowhere to vent her anger. She kicked my door twice with all her might. But my door was sturdy. It was her who grimaced in pain, furious. “You just wait. If I can’t have peace, neither can you.” Two days passed, relatively peaceful. I thought the whole thing had blown over, but then Gary from property management called me. “Cassidy Chen from 503? This is Gary from property management. Your apartment is leaking, and it’s flooded the unit below. You need to come back and take a look.”

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1 On the day Julian Astor received the Global Philanthropist Award, I was given my death sentence. The doctors told me there was no more money to replace my artificial heart. On the television, the host asked Julian to make a call to the person he regretted most. Without hesitation, he dialed my number. I answered the call, listening as Julian asked, “Did you ever regret leaving me for money?” I glanced at the colossal bill for a new artificial heart. A faint, bitter laugh escaped me. “Julian, you’re so incredibly rich. Could you lend me two hundred thousand dollars?” The call snapped shut. I watched Julian on screen, his face a mask of cold indifference, as he stated, “Now, I have no regrets.” He didn’t know. Seven years ago, when his heart was failing, it was I who, without his knowledge, replaced his dying heart with my own. After the live broadcast ended, I immediately received a two-hundred-thousand dollars transfer from Julian. I froze for a moment, a wave of complex emotions washing over me. I used the money to pay my medical bills, then suddenly heard familiar voices just outside my hospital room. Peeking through the crack in the door, I saw Julian. Seven years had passed, and time seemed to have left no mark on him. The only thing that had changed was the person by his side. It wasn’t me anymore. The awards gala had just ended. He hadn’t even had time to change, yet he’d rushed to the hospital. All because his girlfriend, Ashley Hayes, was suffering from a slight stomach ache. I watched him hold her close, caressing her with an obvious, doting affection. I lowered my head, intending to pretend I hadn’t seen them, to quietly close the door. Julian yanked the door open. I jumped, my gaze snapping up to meet his. His eyes, chillingly cold, swept over my frail form. “It’s been a long time. You… you won’t even say hello?” I looked at him, my lips parting. A thousand words welled up, but they condensed into a single plea: “Julian, lend me another thirty thousand dollars.” Julian stiffened, and a flicker of anger ignited in his cold gaze. He grabbed my arm. “Seven years, and that’s all you have to say to me?!” The countless needle marks on my wrist pulsed with a dull, persistent ache. I took a deep breath, speaking softly. “Mr. Astor is so wealthy. If I don’t ask for money, I’m afraid Ms. Hayes might misunderstand.” Julian looked taken aback, his expression momentarily complex. He was about to say something when Ashley wrapped her arms around his arm, feigning innocent surprise. “Darling, is this your ex-wife?” Ashley looked at me, her voice laced with a sugary pity. “What can thirty thousand dollars even do? Julian buys me shoes that cost fifty thousand!” She smiled, a hint of mockery in her tone. “It’s a shame Ms. Chen didn’t know how to appreciate him. If you hadn’t ruthlessly abandoned Julian, how would I have ever met him?” I remained silent, my mind drifting back in time. Julian and I met in college, fell in love, and spent five years by each other’s side. Back then, he wasn’t the billionaire entrepreneur he was today. My body wasn’t as broken as it was now. Two impoverished orphans, for the first time, found the person they cared about most. We fought hard to build a small family of our own. Just as our careers were starting to take off, Julian was diagnosed with a severe heart condition. Treatment and a transplant would cost a fortune. We drained all our savings, every penny we’d put into our startup. To raise money for his medical expenses, I worked multiple odd jobs every day, eating only one meal a day, making every penny stretch. I worked myself to exhaustion, just to scrounge up meager funds for his medication. We even switched his life-saving drugs to the cheapest, low-grade generics. Still, a suitable heart remained elusive. Just as I watched Julian grow thinner and weaker day by day, on the brink of despair, his doctor found me. He told me the match was successful. The person whose heart was a perfect match for Julian’s was me. My tangled thoughts ceased. Julian leaned down, affectionately kissing Ashley’s forehead, his eyes full of unspoken tenderness. “If it weren’t for her heartlessness, how would I have met my little angel?” He turned back to Ashley. “That thirty-thousand-dollar bag you wanted? I’ll buy it for you when we get back. Next time, choose something more expensive. Your husband can afford it.” Watching them, the phantom prickle on my wrist from the IV needle seemed to pierce my very soul, choking me. I wrested my hand free from Julian’s grip, which he had never loosened. I no longer wanted to be a mere prop, a confirmation of their love story. Just as I was about to walk away, Ashley subtly extended her foot, tripping me. “Oh my, Ms. Chen, how clumsy of you!” I fell to my knees, my medical report scattering at Julian’s feet. Seeing me fall, Julian’s expression tightened. He instinctively reached out to help me. But Ashley caught his hand, gasping, “What’s this?” Julian’s gaze was drawn to the report on the floor. He picked it up, scanning it quickly. “Artificial heart replacement…” A flash of anger crossed Julian’s face. He flung the medical report at me. “Cassidy Chen, I can’t believe you’d use such a despicable trick, this kind of fraud, all for money!” 2 “You’re just like you were seven years ago, everything for money, only money in your eyes!” I rose, looking at Julian’s healthy body. A faint smile touched my lips as I silently picked up the medical report. “Mr. Astor knows I love money. Why not lend me a little more?” Ashley, feigning deep emotion, shook his muscular arm, tears welling in her eyes, but her gaze at me was filled with mockery and malice. “Darling, maybe it’s true?” Then, almost as an afterthought, “And… it was Ms. Chen leaving you that led to you getting a heart donation from a kind stranger!” She looked at me, then back at Julian. “Shouldn’t we help her?” Her words seemed to remind Julian of the ‘fact’ that I had abandoned him for money. The anger and hesitation in Julian’s eyes were instantly frozen into icy coldness. “The hearts of those kind strangers couldn’t save a heartless person like her. She doesn’t deserve it.” Julian pulled Ashley, turning away. Ashley continued to ‘plead’ for me, but the curve of her lips as she glanced back at me was so mocking, so vicious. I picked up the medical report, now covered in Ashley’s footprints. My artificial heart suddenly emitted a tremor that didn’t belong. My vision blurred, their retreating figures gradually fading. After a long moment, I wiped away the blood trickling from the corner of my mouth, staring at the words “Artificial Heart Replacement.” My fingers brushed over the scar on my chest, a mark of seven years. Julian still didn’t know. The heart beating in his chest was mine. Seven years ago, because a suitable heart couldn’t be found, Julian’s body grew weaker by the day. Artificial heart technology wasn’t mature then; theoretically, it could sustain basic life, but it carried too many hidden risks. After the match was confirmed, I replaced his heart with my own. I, in turn, received an artificial heart with a theoretical lifespan of seven years. To save money, it was the cheapest kind. Since then, my chest would often be pierced by a sharp pain. Daily coughing up blood and sudden bouts of extreme weakness became commonplace. Also, because I had no money, the surgery to replace my artificial heart with a newer model was repeatedly delayed. Now, seven years had passed. The artificial heart in my chest gave its seventh sharp jolt. I knew it was already at its limit. … After leaving the hospital, I returned to my rented apartment. The room was small, damp and cold in winter, unbearably hot in summer, but cheap. Julian and I had once lived here, dreaming of our future together within these very walls. When I learned my heart was a match for his, I pretended to be a gold-digger, presenting him with divorce papers. Julian and I had shared five years. No matter how hard or tiring things got, I never once complained, always sticking by his side. He knew how deeply I loved him; he simply couldn’t believe I would abandon him. I also knew he loved me to his core. He would never have allowed me to sacrifice my life for his if he knew the truth. To save him, I had to harden my heart, feigning that I’d had enough. Enough of living by his side, enduring endless hardship. Enough of living without hope. Enough of eating cheap medicine, one meal a day, drinking cold water when thirsty, gnawing on stale bread, making every penny stretch. I told him I’d had enough of it all. I still remember that day. The boy who was always strong, who never feared hardship or pain, cried for the first time, signing the divorce papers through his tears. I also signed the organ donation agreement. After the surgery, I bore the scorn, completely leaving Julian, and returned to the rented apartment where we’d spent five years together. Silently, I awaited the death I had, by my own hand, embraced. I just never expected to see Julian again. Now, he had soared far beyond, embodying the ideal future we had both once envisioned. But I could never go back. Watching his triumphant image on the news, a pang of bittersweet sorrow pierced me. Yet, there was also a sense of quiet contentment. My phone rang, pulling me from my reverie. It was the bank. They informed me that the previous two-hundred-thousand-dollar transfer was a mistake. They required immediate repayment, or I would face legal consequences. I hung up, a wry, bitter smile on my face. I didn’t know what to say. Julian hated me so much. He knew that I, the “money-grubber,” needed payment in installments. He would certainly accept, and watch me exhaust myself trying to repay the debt. Because of my heart condition, my body was often weak, making many jobs impossible. I could only survive on occasional odd jobs. My best friend, Chloe, knew about my health. She found me a job as a banquet server. The work was relatively light, earning fifty dollars a day. As I put on the server’s uniform, donned a mask, and began serving drinks at the banquet, 3 I saw Julian again. He wore an expensive suit, his posture tall and commanding. Ashley, in a lavish evening gown, looked graceful and enchanting. Arm in arm, they seemed like a divine couple, surrounded and adored by everyone. I only glanced at them before immediately lowering my head. Julian, engrossed, didn’t recognize me as I served him wine. Just as I was about to turn away, Ashley suddenly spoke. “What kind of server are you? Didn’t you see you spilled wine on my dress?” My steps faltered. Only then did I notice a damp spot on the hem of Ashley’s gown. I didn’t speak, merely lowered my head and used a tissue to wipe away the stain. Julian watched me, his brows furrowed, his lips pressed into a tight line. Malice spread in Ashley’s eyes. Suddenly, she kicked me in the chest. A searing pain shot through me, and I collapsed to the floor, unable to suppress a cry of agony. “Don’t touch me with your dirty hands! Security! Get her out of here!” Ashley’s face feigned anger, but the triumphant smirk on her lips was impossible to hide. Even though only my eyes were visible, in that brief moment of eye contact, Julian recognized me. His lips trembled, a flicker of concern flashed in his eyes, only to be replaced by endless mockery. He raised a hand, stopping the security guard, and then ripped off my mask. “Cassidy Chen, seeing your ex-husband, aren’t you going to say hello?” Ashley feigned a sudden realization, rushing to pull me up. “Ms. Chen, is that really you? You’re Julian’s ex-wife! How can you be working as a server here?” The grand hall seemed to hit a mute button. A deafening silence descended. All eyes fixated on me. Then, a wave of ridicule swept through the room. “I heard Mr. Astor’s ex-wife abandoned him for money when he was at his lowest, suffering from a heart condition…” “Hmph, truly, the wicked get what they deserve.” “Abandoning Mr. Astor and now reduced to being a server, she completely deserves this!” Someone splashed red wine over my head. Then, wine rained down from all directions, glasses shattering on my body one after another. Dark red wine mixed with bright red blood, pooling on the floor. Clearly, these people, eager to curry favor with Julian, wanted to vent his anger for him. Blood streamed down my forehead, across my cheeks. Yet, I felt no pain, remaining silent. Julian watched me, his eyes unequivocally cold. “Cassidy Chen, why aren’t you speaking? Is it because talking to you also costs money?” Julian sneered, and a chorus of mocking laughter echoed around him. “You’re here as a server, aren’t you, just to ask me for money? I’ll satisfy you!” He waved a hand, and someone brought over a dozen bottles of expensive red wine, opening each one. “If you drink all this wine, I’ll give you thirty thousand dollars.” Now, he flung the money onto the floor, making the wine and blood on the ground look even more crimson. Julian’s face was etched with an unyielding coldness. Everyone in the hall watched the spectacle with mocking disdain. Since the artificial heart replacement, my body had become increasingly weak. I couldn’t lift anything heavy, couldn’t run or jump, and even walking a few steps left me gasping for breath. The alcohol that normal people used to numb themselves, even a small amount, could cause my artificial heart to fail. I looked up at him, a slight smile touching my lips. Finally, I spoke. “Then, that two hundred thousand dollars… I don’t need to pay it back, do I?” Julian’s face froze, a flicker of raw fury igniting in his bone-chilling gaze. Then, a tight grinding sound came from his clenched jaw. “Fine!” At his answer, I smiled, then grabbed a bottle and began to pour the wine down my throat. The burning liquid filled my mouth, and my body instinctively gagged, almost vomiting. I forced myself to swallow, then another bottle, and another. Everyone watched, ironically, as if it were a joke. Only Julian’s face grew darker, grimmer. As I finished another bottle and reached for another, Julian finally couldn’t take it anymore. He grabbed my hand. “Cassidy Chen, without money, you’ll die, won’t you?!” Looking at his bloodshot eyes, I nodded. “You’re right. Without money, I’ll die.” He threw my hand away in a fit of rage. “Fine, then drink it all! Drink until you’re satisfied!” My body felt as heavy as if bound by a massive stone. The artificial heart in my chest seemed to have stopped beating. I smiled, took a shallow breath, and reached for the wine bottle, ready to drink again. Julian, unable to bear it any longer, snatched the bottle from my hand, letting out a raw, guttural roar. “Enough!” My body gave out completely, collapsing to the floor. Fine shards of glass pricked my skin, staining the ground crimson. Hearing the commotion, my best friend Chloe rushed over, cradling me in her arms in horror, and screamed at Julian: “Cassidy gave you her heart! She’s living on an artificial heart right now, she can’t drink alcohol at all, she could die, do you hear me?!” Julian, hearing Chloe’s desperate shout, froze as if struck by lightning. The mockery and coldness instantly crumbled from his face, replaced by endless shock and terror. His eyes widened, staring intensely at me in the pool of blood. His lips trembled, as if he wanted to say something, but all strength seemed to drain from him, unable to utter a single word. It felt like an eternity before he finally spoke. “Cassidy Chen, I can’t believe you’d come up with such a lie, even this, all for money!” I trembled as I stood, meeting his gaze with a cold smile. To him, I had once abandoned him for money, at his most painful and difficult moment. Now that he was successful, I, this shameless woman, would naturally abandon my dignity and spin lies for money. I met his disgusted, icy stare. Even though I no longer had my original heart, my chest inexplicably twisted with pain. “Cassidy Chen, you really went to great lengths to deceive me.” I slowly pulled away from Chloe’s support. Though my body could barely bear its own weight, I managed to stand steady on my own. I looked at Julian and smiled. “I never expected you to figure it out.” After saying that, I glanced at Chloe. Her eyes flickered with surprise, then she seemed to realize something, and her slightly parted mouth closed with difficulty. Tears streamed from her eyes, unstoppable. She didn’t understand why I still refused to tell the truth, even now. Julian scoffed. “You’re still as shameless as ever!” I simply smiled, saying nothing more. Seeing my demeanor, Julian seemed to grow even angrier. He was about to speak when Ashley suddenly grabbed his hand. “Honey, Ms. Chen must have a reason for faking being a heart donor to scam money from you. Just help her out!” Julian glanced at me, some of the anger receding from his face. He scoffed, signing a check, and tossed it at me. “Fine. Your friend says drinking will kill you? Then keep this money. Use it to buy a burial plot!” I bent down, picked up the check from the floor, and carefully smoothed it out. “Thank you for your generosity, Mr. Astor.” Seeing me stumble, almost falling, Ashley, feigning sympathy, walked over to steady me, her nails digging sharply into my flesh. “Ms. Chen, no matter how little you value your own body, you shouldn’t sell your heart!” I forcefully pulled my hand away. Ashley, in turn, pretended to be pushed, tumbling dramatically into Julian’s arms. “Ms. Chen, I just wanted to help you…” Ashley looked at me pitifully, squeezing out two tears from the corners of her eyes. Julian’s anger surged, his eyes filled with immense disappointment. He immediately called security and had Chloe and me escorted out. In the biting cold wind, Chloe’s tears finally burst forth. She looked at me heartbroken. “Why won’t you tell him, even now? If only you told him the truth, you wouldn’t have to endure all this…” I just smiled, shaking the check in my hand. “It’s all in the past now. What’s the point of saying more?” I gave a small shrug. “Look, this thirty thousand dollars, it would take me ages to earn.” Chloe looked at me, still unable to resist asking, “Is it truly worth it for you to go through all this? He humiliated you so terribly…” I fell silent. Seven years ago, when I gave Julian my heart, it was never about whether it was ‘worth it.’ It was simply because I wanted to save him. That was all. Thinking of these things, perhaps the past thoughts were too complex. I suddenly coughed up a mouthful of blood, my vision blurring. In my ears, I heard Chloe’s frantic shouts. When I woke again, I found myself in a hospital bed. The sterile white room hurt my eyes. Chloe sat by my bedside. Seeing me awake, she immediately grasped my hand, crying uncontrollably. “Cassidy, you… you scared me to death. How are you feeling?” I opened my mouth, my throat painfully dry. Soon, a doctor examined me. His face grave, he told me, “Ms. Chen, your body is no longer suitable for an artificial heart. If we cannot find a suitable match within three months, your life will be in danger.” I was speechless. Chloe was already weeping. Finding a suitable heart within three months was an incredibly slim chance. This almost certainly meant I only had three months left to live.

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Vivian Brown, the new junior associate at the law firm, had an uncanny ability to anticipate my every move. When our client, Mr. Li—an avid connoisseur of Big Red Robe tea—visited, I was moments away from ordering an $88,000 tin as a gesture of goodwill. But Vivian was already there, presenting the exact same vintage with a polished smile. After we secured a multi-million-dollar case thanks to her timely tea offering, the managing partner assigned us to draft a comprehensive proposal. I spent nights preparing two distinct approaches: one conservative, one aggressive. Yet at the presentation, Vivian produced identical documents, down to the footnotes. I dismissed it as coincidence—until the annual bar exam competition. Vivian, tears streaking her cheeks, pointed at me before the partners. “You copied my answers!” she cried. When our papers were compared, they matched word for word. Because she’d submitted first, I was branded a cheater. The managing partner declared me ethically compromised and terminated me on the spot. Even Ethan Xu, my colleague and boyfriend, turned away in disgust. Ruined, I succumbed to despair and ended my life. But with my final breath, one question burned: How? How had she mirrored my work? How did she always know? Then—I woke up. Back to the morning before Mr. Li’s arrival. Back to the moment before I reached for the phone to order that cursed tea. 1 “Excuse me, regarding the collaboration with your firm, we need to take some more time to consider. After all, your firm’s experience is rather… junior. We…” Inside the law firm, I listened to the big client, Mr. Li, about to reject our multi-million-dollar contract. My vision blurred for a moment, and then a shocking realization hit me: I had been reborn. Just then, Vivian Brown, the firm’s new junior associate, stepped forward with a gentle smile. She produced a box of Big Red Robe tea, valued at eighty-eight thousand dollars, and pushed it courteously towards Mr. Li. “Mr. Li, I heard you’re a connoisseur of Big Red Robe. I made a special effort to have some sourced directly from the origin for you to sample. Please, try it?” Mr. Li was a passionate lover of Big Red Robe. Hearing Vivian’s words, he beamed, unable to contain his delight. He accepted the tea, and immediately agreed to sign the contract. Vivian had successfully secured the multi-million-dollar deal, becoming the firm’s top contributor. Watching it all unfold, I felt a bone-deep chill. The exact same scene, identical to my previous life, had just played out again! It was like this in my past life too. Mr. Li had been hesitant to sign the contract. In desperation, I had called upon many friends, owed countless favors, just to discover he loved Big Red Robe tea. I immediately went to buy some. But Vivian had already gotten there first, presenting it and effortlessly closing the deal. At first, I thought it was just a coincidence and swallowed my frustration. But then, after that multi-million-dollar contract was secured with the tea, our managing partner was ecstatic. He urgently demanded that Vivian and I prepare a cooperation proposal that would impress the client. I approached it from a practical perspective, developing two distinct proposals tailored to the client’s needs. The next day, however, Vivian presented two proposals identical to mine to the managing partner. He was thoroughly impressed and immediately decided to use her plan. I grew increasingly uneasy, yet I couldn’t pinpoint exactly what felt wrong. Then came the firm’s annual bar exam competition. Vivian, tears streaming down her face, accused me. “Cassidy, I know whoever gets first place in this competition will be recommended for overseas training. But even if you want to go abroad, you can’t just copy my answers!” I tried to protest, but when the managing partner compared our exam papers, my answers were, impossibly, identical to Vivian’s. Because she submitted her paper first, I was deemed to have cheated. The managing partner, convinced I had a serious character flaw, fired me. My colleague and boyfriend, Ethan Xu, also concluded I was morally bankrupt and broke up with me. Ultimately, I lost my job, succumbed to depression, and chose to end my life. To my dying breath, I couldn’t comprehend it. Why were my bar exam answers identical to Vivian’s? Why could she anticipate my every move, no matter what I intended to do? This time, I was determined to find out what was happening. I would not die confused again! 2 Soon, just like in my previous life, the managing partner called a meeting, instructing each of us to prepare a proposal for the contract. Whoever’s proposal was chosen would become the direct attorney for this multi-million-dollar deal. I meticulously recalled my previous life. I had drafted the proposal at the law firm, and I’d gone out for lunch and dinner. It must have been during those breaks that Vivian copied it. This time, to be absolutely safe, I completed the entire proposal on my personal laptop, never letting it out of my sight until I left work. After clocking out, I went straight home and pulled an all-nighter, refining both proposals. The logic and theoretical depth were far superior to what I’d produced in my past life. The next morning, armed with my polished proposals, I arrived at the firm. The moment I saw the managing partner, I handed them over. “Sir, I’ve prepared two different proposals from a practical standpoint, tailored to the client’s needs. Whether they prefer a conservative or aggressive approach, these will meet their requirements.” The managing partner frowned, a flicker of displeasure crossing his face. He opened the proposals, and his expression quickly soured. “Cassidy, I understand you’re eager for this contract, but you can’t just copy Vivian’s proposal!” I froze, disbelief washing over me. How was that even possible? Before I could react, Vivian approached, her tone feigning thoughtfulness, yet laced with thinly veiled arrogance. “Sir, please don’t be upset. Yesterday, I heard that Cassidy was watching my computer while I was out for dinner. And today, she brings in proposals identical to mine. While her actions are rather… low, she was only trying to gain your approval, after all.” Then she turned to me. “Cassidy, if you were interested in my ideas regarding conservative and aggressive strategies, you could have just discussed them with me directly. Isn’t it a bit too shameful to just copy them in secret?” I listened to Vivian’s words in utter disbelief. I strode forward and snatched the proposals from her hand. Sure enough, her proposals weren’t just identical in their core ideas; even the subheadings and paragraph formatting were exactly the same as mine! I couldn’t hold back any longer. My gaze turned icy as I looked at Vivian. “You claim these are your proposals. Then tell me, what was your thought process? How did you analyze the conservative and aggressive approaches?” This part of the content, I hadn’t even written down. Vivian couldn’t possibly know! Regarding the conservative approach, I had based my analysis on the opposing company’s overall reaction to lawsuits over the past five years— “Regarding the conservative approach, I based it on the opposing company’s overall reaction to lawsuits over the past five years. I believe this reflects their traditional, entrenched attitude when facing litigation.” My thought process hadn’t even fully formed in my mind before Vivian had already spoken it all aloud. Her fluent delivery was uncannily identical to my own thoughts, not a single word astray! I was stunned! How was this possible?! The managing partner’s eyes lit up. After all, this was truly an advanced concept. He quickly pressed her. “Vivian, what about the aggressive strategy analysis?” “The aggressive strategy includes relatively bolder clauses. This is to make the opposing company clearly see their own risks and opportunities, which will make them more receptive.” Vivian spoke again. My eyes widened, as if I’d seen a ghost. I couldn’t believe anything I was hearing. She had said exactly what I was thinking, even the logical phrasing was identical! A cold sweat broke out over my entire body. I felt as if Vivian was an actual mind-reader, lurking inside my head. It was terrifying! 3 “Vivian! You are truly outstanding! With you here, this contract will be absolutely seamless!” The managing partner was effusive with praise. My colleagues around me looked on with envy, murmuring amongst themselves: “Vivian is amazing! She came up with such an excellent proposal in such a short time. No wonder Cassidy was jealous and copied her!” “How shameful! She’s supposed to be a seasoned lawyer, a senior employee, yet she had the nerve to copy a new junior associate’s proposal. I’m truly embarrassed for Cassidy!” “Last time, when Vivian bought that expensive tea for the client, I saw Cassidy about to order it online. And now she’s copied her proposals again. Is she just targeting Vivian and trying to imitate everything she does? That’s disgusting!” “Fire her! I’d be disgusted to have someone like that in our firm. Fire her immediately!” My boyfriend and colleague, Ethan Xu, approached me, his face filled with impatience and embarrassment. “Cassidy, do you have any sense of shame?! I told you long ago not to compete with Vivian, but you just had to do something so shameless. It’s mortifying!” Everyone watched as Ethan, my own boyfriend, came forward to condemn me, further cementing their belief that I was a plagiarist. A torrent of vile insults assailed me, some even spitting in my direction! I stood frozen, my face pale, unable to believe any of this! How could this be happening? Was it truly just a profound connection between Vivian and me, our minds thinking so alike that our proposals turned out identical? But even if that were the case, why did she anticipate my every word, speaking it just before me? My thoughts grew increasingly chaotic. Vivian, however, chose that moment to speak, feigning magnanimity. “Alright, everyone, please don’t talk about Cassidy like that. I believe she was just a bit vain and made a mistake. I don’t think we need to fire her, do we? After all, it’s not easy for her to keep this job.” Ethan looked at her with even more tenderness. “Vivian, you are truly both brilliant and kind. Cassidy copied you, and yet you’re still defending her. Just for your kindness alone, Cassidy should kneel and apologize to you!” He then glared fiercely at me. Vivian chuckled softly. “Ethan, you’re being too serious. It’s just a small matter. There’s no need for her to kneel. I just hope Cassidy doesn’t hold a grudge and seek revenge on me because of this.” “Pfft! What right does she have to take revenge on you?!” Ethan scoffed. “Next week is our firm’s annual law exam. Once you get first place and go abroad for training, Cassidy probably won’t even be worthy of seeing you again for the rest of her life!” Ethan’s gaze at me was filled with disgust, just like in my previous life, as if he was afraid of being associated with me. I remembered when Ethan used to look at me with such admiration, saying I was the most brilliant lawyer, and the thought now was utterly laughable. I clenched my fists tightly. “I did not copy anyone, never!” Ethan, hearing this, didn’t believe a word. He scoffed, mocked me further, then joined the other colleagues, all surrounding Vivian as if she were a star, going over the two proposals I had just presented. Vivian reveled in the attention. She gave me a provocative look, her eyes brimming with triumph. In that one look, I instantly knew: this was absolutely no coincidence! Vivian had definitely used some method I didn’t know about to copy my work! I had to find out!

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After winning a staggering eighty million dollars in the lottery, I immediately withdrew from the National Online Fiction Competition. When Cassius Blackwood, a fellow student, found out, he slapped me across the face. “Running away like a coward on the eve of battle, do you really think you’re honoring our professor’s guidance and your friends’ hopes?” he sneered, his voice dripping with accusation. “Or is it that your submission is flawed, and you’re just scared the judges will discover it?” In my previous life, Cassius’s competition entry was identical to mine. I’d begged Victoria, my editor and the source of my novel’s inspiration, and Chloe, my childhood friend who I’d spent every day with, to help clear my name. But they’d released apology statements instead, practically begging the judges to overlook my “youthful indiscretion” and grant me a second chance. The internet, however, was merciless, roaring its condemnation and branding me a “shameless plagiarist.” Unable to prove my innocence, I bore the stigma, expelled from school and facing crippling penalties. My mother, desperate to clear my name, tirelessly fought for justice, only to be cyberbullied herself, falling gravely ill overnight. The relentless blows shattered my spirit. To spare my family further burden, I leapt from the hospital rooftop, plunging into the abyss. But when I opened my eyes again, I found myself back exactly one week before the competition. … “Ethan, I made your favorite braised ribs. Have some before you write, okay?” Victoria, my sister, five years my senior, signed, her face etched with a familiar tenderness. I jolted, nearly toppling from my chair, a wave of shock washing over me. Just then, Chloe pushed open the door. She offered me a small box, her voice laced with concern. “I heard your shoulder’s been bothering you lately. This massage device might help you relax.” This scene was terrifyingly familiar. In my previous life, I truly believed I was the luckiest person alive. My sister, Victoria, had always cared for me with unwavering devotion. Chloe, my childhood friend, was more like family than mere kin. But this rebirth… it had chilled me to the bone. In that former life, when the National Online Fiction Competition submission that bore my name turned out to be identical to Cassius Blackwood’s, the judges immediately took notice. As an author with multiple accolades, I’d had every hope of clinching first place. But with that scandal, I was plunged into a maelstrom of public outcry. I desperately reached out to Victoria, my editor and the one who provided my writing inspiration, and to Chloe, my ever-present childhood friend, begging them to clarify the truth. To my horror, they refused. My sister, Victoria, even issued an apology statement without my consent, pleading with the competition organizers to show leniency, given my “tender age,” and grant me a chance to atone. The internet exploded. “No wonder he dared to plagiarize in such a huge competition! Turns out he has an editor for a sister to cover his tracks. The whole family’s rotten to the core!” “Exactly! An apology and he gets a second chance? Who are they kidding? If apologies fixed everything, what would we need the police for?” “Still ‘tender age’? He’s at least eighteen, isn’t he? If he wants to be a man-child, he can stay home and be one. Don’t come out here and disgust people!” Under the immense pressure of public opinion, the competition organizers rejected Victoria’s plea. The truth was, I’d entered that competition for the first-place prize money of thirty thousand dollars. Victoria had lost her voice due to an illness, unable to utter a sound. I wanted that money to pay for her vocal cord restoration surgery. Yet, after the competition, not only did I fail to win the prize, I was slapped with crippling breach-of-contract penalties. Meanwhile, Cassius Blackwood, with no prior writing experience, inexplicably won first place. His competition entry was hailed as the most outstanding short story in years, even bought by a film studio and slated for adaptation. Just like that, he became an overnight sensation, a literary golden boy. And I, became a reviled plagiarist. The plagiarism scandal’s devastating impact led to my expulsion from university. To pay the astronomical fines, I, without a degree, resorted to working as a delivery driver. But when customers recognized me, they deliberately gave me poor reviews, nullifying a day’s hard work. My mother, desperate to clear my name, ran herself ragged, only to be cyberbullied until she fell ill overnight and ended up in the ICU. To cover the exorbitant medical bills, I took a job hauling cement at a construction site. After only a few days, the foreman fired me, withholding all my wages. Then, the hospital called. They told me my mother’s condition was deteriorating, and I should prepare myself. That final thread of hope snapped. I completely lost the will to live. One late night, I climbed to the hospital rooftop and leapt. But when I opened my eyes again, I found myself back exactly one week before the writing competition. Looking at my sister and childhood friend, who were so meticulously caring for me, my heart felt a strange, cold mix of emotions. “Ethan, this is some writing material I got through internal channels. If you follow this, you’re guaranteed to win first place.” Victoria signed, placing a file before me. Chloe chuckled playfully. “Ethan, you have to get first place! I’m counting on your prize money to treat us to a lavish meal!” I knew she was joking, but I couldn’t bring myself to smile. Victoria was my own sister; she couldn’t possibly betray me. And Chloe, my childhood friend, sharp-tongued perhaps, but always fiercely protective. So, it couldn’t be them. What on earth was going wrong? In elementary school, I’d won first prize in a children’s writing competition. Later, in college, I frequently published stories in literary magazines. My beloved Professor Caldwell always said my skill made winning this competition a walk in the park. So, when the plagiarism scandal broke, he believed in me. What’s more, my serialized novel had been published and sold well. There was no reason for me to copy Cassius. Just then, Cassius suddenly released screenshots showing the submission times for our entries. His was dated an hour before mine. And a week before the competition, he’d posted his writing inspiration and novel outline on his social media. Instantly, the internet’s curses threatened to drown me. “It must be Ethan who copied Cassius, the evidence is undeniable, yet he still tries to argue!” “I heard Ethan even published a book before, it must have been plagiarized too, just never caught!” “Good thing his own sister and childhood friend had a change of heart and didn’t shield him, otherwise, the original creator would have been unjustly ruined.” The discussion spiraled, trending across all platforms. The competition organizers, taking it seriously, immediately verified the evidence Cassius presented. After careful review, all evidence was deemed authentic, with no signs of manipulation. Their final conclusion: I had plagiarized Cassius. I was stunned. That competition entry, I’d written it based on the inspiration my sister gave me. How could it be plagiarism? But I had no evidence to prove my innocence. And I couldn’t understand why Cassius’s entry would be identical to mine. Had my sister given Cassius the same material? Yet, Victoria and Chloe seemed utterly normal. I had to start with Cassius’s social media. By my calculations, he should have already shared his novel inspiration and outline. But with someone constantly watching me, I quickly jotted down a superficial outline to appease them. Then, feigning a sudden stomachache, I claimed I needed to use the restroom. A flicker of annoyance crossed Chloe’s eyes. “Always so high-maintenance, aren’t you? Victoria has already given you the inspiration and material, and you’re still trying to slack off!” Victoria quickly signed, attempting to smooth things over. “The competition is still a week away. Don’t rush Ethan; there’s still plenty of time. If he follows my advice, he’s guaranteed to win first place!” But the time I had to uncover the truth was running out. I locked myself in the restroom and immediately opened Cassius’s social media. I’d heard his father was a senior executive at a major corporation and his mother a university professor. He had many followers because of his good looks. But I didn’t know him well. However, Victoria’s job required her to interact with Cassius’s mother, so they must have known each other. Once, I’d overheard her signing to Chloe, saying Cassius was sophisticated and refined, unlike me, a total bumpkin. She even told Chloe that she should find a husband like Cassius – handsome and from a good family. I’d thought she was joking. Now, it all sounded like the honest truth. But I simply couldn’t fathom why someone like Cassius, a wealthy, handsome socialite, would want to harm me. Just then, I found his latest post. It was where he’d shared his writing inspiration and novel outline. I stared, stunned. Wasn’t this the exact same material Victoria had just given me? Even his novel outline was identical to the one I’d just casually jotted down. The comments section was full of praise: “Such a unique novel structure! First time I’ve seen something like this. The online fiction world is finally saved!” “Seriously, start writing, blogger! I have a feeling you’re guaranteed to win first place!” An accidental clash of inspiration was understandable. But why was his novel outline also identical to mine? Only Victoria and Chloe had been in my study. Could it really be them? A chill ran down my spine. But why would they do this? Could blood ties and years of friendship truly be worth less than Cassius, someone they barely knew? I stayed in the restroom for an hour, making a bold decision. In my previous life, my competition entry had been in the fantasy genre, my strongest suit. Although I’d won first place, it had felt like old wine in a new bottle, lacking true innovation. This time, I decided to write a mystery thriller. If they claimed I plagiarized last time, I would write something entirely new. Whatever the outcome, at least it would clear my name. That would be enough. Tossing and turning all night, unable to sleep due to the last-minute genre change, I quietly slipped out early the next morning and went to Professor Caldwell’s house. He was my mentor, the first person who ever encouraged me to write. He had placed great hopes on me for this competition. Seeing me, he beamed, pressing a steaming pastry into my hand. “Ethan, you haven’t had breakfast yet, have you?” Noticing my troubled expression, he quickly asked, “Is something wrong? Tell your old professor.” I forced a smile. “Professor, if I don’t win first place in this competition, will you be very disappointed?” Professor Caldwell ruffled my hair, smiling gently. “It doesn’t matter if you don’t win first place. I know your abilities. You can always try harder next time. As long as you’re happy, that’s what’s most important.” His words solidified my resolve. After leaving his house, I received a message from Victoria. “Ethan, where did you run off to? Chloe brought you breakfast, couldn’t find you, and she’s furious.” I replied, “Went out to buy some writing materials. Heading back now.” I didn’t plan to use the inspiration and material Victoria had given me. Nor did I tell her or Chloe about changing my competition genre. After all, they were the prime suspects. I decided to head to the university library to re-outline my competition entry. I stayed there until nightfall, finally finishing my novel outline. I stretched, ready for a break, and decided to check Cassius’s social media. Unexpectedly, Victoria and Chloe showed up. I was confused; how did they know I was here? Victoria then placed a steaming lunchbox on the table, signing, “Afraid you’d forget to eat while writing, so I brought you some food.” Chloe handed me a thermos. “This is chicken broth I simmered all afternoon, to help you recover.” They both looked so sincere. They didn’t seem like people who would stab me in the back. Had I been overthinking things? But if not them, then who? My mind a jumble, I managed a strained smile. “You two came at the perfect time. I’m starving. I’ll just wash my hands and dig in.” With my phone in hand, I headed to the restroom. I didn’t go into the men’s room but opened Cassius’s social media by the sinks. He had indeed posted a new update. “How can someone be so shameless? I kindly shared my inspiration and outline, and someone just took it without permission? What’s the difference between that and a thief? No choice but to rewrite it now.” The post included a photo of a guy studying in the library, his back to the camera. Anyone who knew me would recognize it as me. But who took the picture? The comments section had fans worrying about Cassius, asking if he’d have enough time to rewrite his entry. Cassius replied that he planned to write a mystery thriller this time, and had already outlined it. A jolt went through me. I hadn’t told anyone about changing genres. Why had our chosen genres clashed again? There had to be a spy close to me. Was it Victoria or Chloe? But what could they possibly gain from this? Just then, someone tapped my shoulder. “Ethan, what are you spacing out about?” I jumped, startled. It was Victoria and Chloe. They’d come looking for me when I didn’t return. Still shaken, my eyes darted nervously. “Sis, why don’t you two go back first? I’ll eat later.” I wondered if they’d seen me scrolling through Cassius’s post. The words had barely left my mouth when Chloe exploded. “Ethan, Victoria and I brought you food out of kindness, and that’s your attitude? Don’t think I haven’t noticed, you’ve been avoiding us these past few days. You really are an ungrateful wretch!” Victoria quickly pulled her back, signing, “Chloe has a sharp tongue but a kind heart. Don’t take her words to heart. We were just worried you were overworking yourself.” I quickly replied, “Sis, I know what I’m doing. If it’s too much trouble, I’ll just stay in the dorms these next few days, so you two don’t have to worry.” Chloe scoffed. “Whatever. I can’t be bothered with you!” With that, she dragged Victoria out of the study room. I finally breathed a sigh of relief.

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On New Year’s Eve, my best friend, Stella, planned to marry me off to a local pig farmer with five children. I pretended to be oblivious, clutchng my newly won five-million-dollar lottery ticket, and followed her into the isolated village – a place from which I knew escape would be impossible. Sixteen years later, the five children, nurtured by my painstaking efforts, had grown into accomplished professionals. And then, just as the doctors confirmed my cancer diagnosis, Stella appeared before me, flanked by those same five children. “Actually, all five of these children are mine,” she declared, her voice dripping with venom. “And I must thank you for raising them, allowing me to live a carefree life for so many years. But now you’re useless. Just go and die somewhere out of sight; don’t sully my children’s eyes.” I looked at the ungrateful pack of wolves before me and smiled faintly. “I’ve been waiting for this day too.” 1 “Clara,” Stella chirped, her eyes wide with feigned enthusiasm, “my cousin is a billionaire, single, and currently experiencing life out in the countryside. Why don’t you come home with me for New Year’s? I can arrange a blind date for you two.” Stella’s sudden warmth was no coincidence; she’d just found out about my five-million-dollar lottery win. She pulled out a small, passport-sized photo of her “cousin.” The man in the picture looked to be in his early twenties, with striking dark brows and bright, open eyes—exactly my type. But I knew this man wasn’t Stella’s cousin; he was her husband, a butcher from her hometown. I didn’t press the issue. By the end of the year, I followed her home. The journey was an ordeal: five hours on a train, two hours in a rattling, three-wheeled utility vehicle, and finally, an hour in a bumpy farm cart. Only then did we arrive at Stella’s village, Maplewood Creek. The moment I saw the dilapidated, weather-beaten cabin, I knew—this time, escape would be impossible. Stella’s “cousin,” Mark, emerged from the cabin, trailed by five grimy children. Mark’s skin was tanned dark, his chin obscured by a rough beard; he bore no resemblance to the handsome man in the photo. He seemed to have a profound cognitive impairment; seeing Stella, he pulled at her hand like a child, demanding candy. As for the children, all under ten, they wore patched, threadbare clothes, their innocent eyes wide with apprehension as they stood shyly, silent. I frowned, turning to Stella. Stella laughed. “Clara, I’m sorry I didn’t make it clear earlier. These five children are all my cousin’s adopted children. From today onwards, you’ll be their mother.” I was about to speak, but Stella cut me off. “But I didn’t lie to you! My cousin is actually the son of an industrial magnate. He only broke ties with his family because he insisted on raising these five children. Once they come of age, he can go back and inherit his fortune.” Her story was riddled with holes, clearly a fabrication, but I merely feigned a seven-tenths belief. “Are you telling me the truth?” “Of course! You never wanted children, right? Well, now you’ve avoided the pain of childbirth and gained five children for free! This is a godsend! If it weren’t for our friendship, I wouldn’t even introduce you to him!” Seeing her plastered, insincere smile, I nodded. “Alright. Five children for a multi-million-dollar fortune. Seems worth it, no matter how you look at it!” Once I agreed, Stella whispered a few words to the children and then, with a casual wave, left. I asked one of the older boys to show me around the village. As we walked, I noticed villagers watching me with wary, suspicious eyes. Wherever I went, one of them would follow. I knew they feared I would run, leaving Stella to raise the children alone. Stella had already warned the villagers before she left; any attempt to escape, and they would unite to bind me and drag me back. But I had no intention of running. After familiarizing myself with the village, I returned to Mark’s cabin. I bathed the five children, braided the girls’ hair into cute pigtails, and trimmed the boys’ tangled, overgrown locks. I even considered shaving Mark’s beard, but when he realized Stella had truly left the village, he suddenly went into a rage, grabbing a wooden stick and wildly chasing me, striking out. “Did you drive Stella away, you wicked woman? I’ll kill you!” 2 The five children watched silently as Mark beat me, leaving me bruised and battered. Their cold, indifferent eyes seemed to echo his accusations: my presence had driven their mother away. Yes, Stella was their biological mother. I didn’t expect them to accept me, but I still pulled out my five-million-dollar winnings, dedicating myself to caring for this family of seven. I replaced the dilapidated cabin with a sturdy two-story house, paved roads in the village, and ensured all five children had access to schooling. Perhaps sensing my sincerity, the children gradually stopped resisting me and began to accept me as their mother. But their father, Mark, still treated me as an enemy. After our living conditions improved, he stopped butchering pigs. Instead, he spent his days sitting at the edge of the village, waiting for Stella to come home. My attempts to offer him care were met with indifference, yet I still took him to the clinic every week, hoping to treat his cognitive impairment. Finally, on the day the eldest, Ethan, was accepted into a prestigious high school, Mark’s long wait ended. Stella returned, bedecked in expensive jewelry and carrying various tonics. She embraced Ethan, showering him with kisses. “Ethan, your mother… your aunt knew you were the most promising one.” Ethan’s gaze was complicated; it had been years since he’d seen his birth mother, the woman he longed for. I cleared my throat, interjecting, “Stella, what brings you back this year?” She hadn’t contacted me once in all the years she’d been gone. Her sudden return, I suspected, was only because she’d heard about Ethan’s acceptance into a prestigious high school, and now sought to reconnect. She gave me a falsely grateful look. “Clara, you’ve worked so hard all these years.” She then handed Ethan a portable gaming device. “This is what you always wanted as a child, your aunt finally saved enough money.” A flash of surprise lit up Ethan’s eyes, but as he reached out, I quickly intervened, taking the device. “High school is crucial, son. I’ll hold onto this for you. Once you get into college, I’ll give it back.” Stella’s face twisted in disapproval. “This is my reward for Ethan. You can’t stifle a child’s playful nature.” I met her gaze coolly. “Ethan is the eldest son of an industrial magnate. He’s destined to inherit the family company. If he becomes a spoiled brat from playing games, his entire life will be ruined.” At my words, Stella opened her mouth, then closed it, utterly speechless. After sharing a meal of dumplings, Stella pulled out several bags of gourmet chocolates from her purse, giving them as gifts to the other children. She promised to return and bring them whatever they desired once they achieved success like Ethan. Mark knew Stella didn’t truly love him. So this time, he just stood there foolishly, watching her. Not until Stella rose to leave did he grab her hand. “Stella, don’t go!” She glared at him, then whispered, “If you keep this up, I won’t ever come back!” She then hissed, “If you really can’t bear to lose me, Clara must still have money, right? Steal her bank card for me!” 3 I watched, expressionless, as Mark retrieved the bank card, which still held a million dollars, from my drawer. He handed the card to Stella, who was waiting at the village entrance, a naive, childlike smile on his face. Stella’s eyes gleamed with a flicker of surprise. “What’s the password?” Mark shook his head. “Don’t know.” “Useless!” Stella snarled, throwing the bank card back at Mark’s face. This time, she left without a backward glance. But fearing her bond with the five children might weaken, she called them every year, checking in on their lives. She even mailed each child a Christmas present. I knew she was afraid the children, once they fully accepted me, would grow distant from their biological mother. But I never stopped her. I knew the children needed their birth mother’s attention. Compared to all that, I cared more about their education, determined to mold each of them into pillars of society. Luckily, by the time the five million dollars ran out… The youngest, Ryan, had finally been accepted into Continental University. On the day I was diagnosed with cancer, I hid the diagnosis report under my pillow to avoid dampening the mood. Then, I joyfully hosted a celebration for Ryan’s acceptance. Ethan had flown back from overseas. Chloe had been honored as an outstanding teacher this year. Daniel was a senior physician at St. Jude’s Medical Center. Sophie was pursuing her graduate degree. The villagers all envied me, saying I had raised five successful children, and my days of enjoyment were still ahead. I happily drank a few more glasses, about to make a celebratory speech. But then Mark appeared on stage, pulling Stella by the hand. “Stella’s back! Stella’s back!” Seeing their birth mother after so many years, the five children burst into tears, rushing onto the stage. “Mom!” They embraced tightly, as if they had longed for this reunion for ages. Stella had been planning this heartwarming reunion for sixteen years. This time, she even invited reporters from the National Broadcast News. After exchanging pleasantries, Stella looked at the bewildered villagers, then pointed at me, accusing, “Clara was a home-wrecker! Sixteen years ago, she seduced my husband, and to keep him, she deliberately injured him and left him incapacitated!” “Because she couldn’t have children herself, she stole mine! She made them acknowledge a stranger as their mother! My poor children, they couldn’t resist. But now they’re adults. We can finally reunite, mother and children, as a family!” I wasn’t surprised Stella could utter such words. Mark, in his state, understood nothing of right or wrong. I looked at the five children I had painstakingly raised. “Do you all believe this too?” Ethan pulled out the cancer diagnosis report I had hidden. “Aunt Clara, although you raised us for over a decade, we were forced into it. Now that you have cancer, don’t even think about using your past kindness to coerce us into paying for your treatment!” He didn’t even call me “Mom” anymore, a clear sign he was in on Stella’s scheme. The other four children nodded in agreement. Stella scoffed. “Clara, you destroyed my family, separating me from my children for sixteen years. Your cancer is just divine punishment!” Her voice grew sharp. “If you’re going to die, then just go and die somewhere out of sight; don’t sully my children’s eyes. Whether you agree or not, these five children, you owe them back to me!” This rousing speech quickly resonated with everyone present. Applause erupted throughout the room. The National Broadcast News reporter, seeing my calm reaction, held the microphone to my face. “Ms. Hayes, what do you have to say about this?” “I was never a home-wrecker, nor did I seduce Mark,” I stated, my expression unwavering. “But we understand you won five million dollars back then,” the reporter pressed. “If it wasn’t for love, why would you willingly stay in this remote village and devotedly raise Mark’s children for sixteen years?” I looked at the ungrateful pack of wolves before me and smiled faintly. “That’s an excellent question! Today, I can finally reveal the secret that has been buried in my heart.”

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1 In the seventh year of our unconventional union, Arthur Blackwood inherited everything from his deceased elder brother. Including his brother’s widow, Eleanor Vance. Each time Arthur had spent the night with Eleanor, he would return to my side, holding me close and whispering reassurances: “Lily, just a little longer. As soon as Eleanor gets pregnant, we’ll have our wedding!” This was the sole condition set by his family for him to truly inherit the Blackwood legacy. Back in the Capital City for six months, Arthur had visited Eleanor’s rooms fifty-two times. From an initial once a month, it had escalated to nearly every other day. Finally, on the fifty-second night I sat alone until dawn, the news arrived: Eleanor was pregnant. But with it came a second, crushing announcement: Arthur and Eleanor’s engagement. “Mommy, is someone in the family getting married?” I looked at the vibrant red decorations plastering the house, mechanically pulling my bewildered son, Leo, into my embrace. “Yes, darling. Daddy is marrying the person he loves, so it’s time for us to move.” Arthur didn’t know that our people, the Highland Matriarchs, never concerned themselves with the confines of traditional marriage. … After tucking Leo into bed, I pulled out my phone to book flights back to the Lake Country. Unfortunately, with the New Year’s celebrations over, the rush of returning commuters was immense. The earliest I could book was seven days away. I stared at the date on the ticket, a strange stillness settling over me. February 14th. Valentine’s Day. It was also the seventh anniversary of Arthur and my unique arrangement. A cosmic twist of fate, perhaps. I tugged at the corners of my mouth, a bitter smile. Good. Let it begin on that day, and let it end on that day. A thick cloud of gardenia perfume enveloped me from behind. Arthur’s gentle voice drifted from above my head. “What are you looking at?” My reflex was to quickly turn off my phone screen. “Just some news about gemstones.” In barely six months, the gardenia scent of Eleanor seemed to have permeated Arthur, marinating him. I pushed him away, a flicker of disgust. “Go take a shower before you talk to me.” Arthur sniffed himself, a hint of awkwardness. He released me. “I’m going… I’ve neglected you lately, it’s my fault. I won’t go to Eleanor’s tonight.” Eleanor. He called her name with such intimacy. Before, he at least maintained appearances, calling her “Sister Eleanor” in public and private. Now, not even “sister.” Anyone unaware would surely think Eleanor was Arthur’s wife. The bathroom door abruptly opened. Arthur emerged, trailing steam, wrapped only in a towel. Broad shoulders, narrow waist, a tall, lean physique, still possessing a youthful air rare for a man his age. For a moment, I was transported back seven years, seeing him soaked in the night dew, climbing into my matriarchal home. His face was flushed with triumph, as if he wanted to declare to the world: “Lily, from today, you are mine. For the rest of our lives, we will be one, forever.” Seeing me staring at his body, lost in thought, Arthur chuckled heartily, pulling me into a fierce embrace. “Lily, tonight I’m only with you. Nowhere else.” The clean scent of citrus mixed with the pervasive gardenia, creating a strange, nauseating aroma. I dropped my gaze, a sense of profound melancholy washing over me. The man before me was no longer the man he once was. A knock at the door shattered my thoughts. “Mr. Blackwood, my lady isn’t feeling well. Would you please come see her?” Arthur’s expression of impatience was instantly replaced by tension. He hastily pulled on clothes and headed for the door. “What’s wrong? Has the family doctor been called?” He took a few steps before realizing something. He turned back, his face apologetic, looking at me leaning against the doorframe. “Eleanor isn’t well, I have to go see her. My elder brother is gone; she has no one but me to rely on. I’ll be right back, Lily. You’re always so understanding.” “Understanding.” I had endured it for six months, through fifty-two dark nights. Our people, the Highland Matriarchs, uphold a unique tradition. Men and women do not formally marry; men visit the women’s homes from dusk until dawn. Arthur, by your customs, I welcomed you as my partner fifty-two times. I spoke softly, “Arthur Blackwood.” Arthur’s brows furrowed, words of comfort almost spilling out, but he froze, stunned by the sudden weight on his shoulder. I draped a coat over him. “The night air is chilly. Wear this before you go.” Arthur clutched the coat on his shoulder, his eyes holding an unreadable expression. “Lily, you…” But before he could fathom the bitter pang in his heart, the guest room door softly closed. Seven days, Arthur. That’s all the longer I’ll wait for you. 2 As I expected, Arthur did not return that night. Yet, when I touched the cold emptiness of my side of the bed, a familiar pang of sorrow twisted in my chest. Knocks on the door grew louder, more insistent. I pulled open the door to find a Blackwood household staff member, his face etched with disdain. “The matriarch said to bring the child and come to the Blackwood family estate.” The Blackwood matriarch had always looked down on me. No matter how many times I explained our unique traditions, she dismissed me as nothing more than a woman of loose morals. Her disdain extended to my son, Leo, as well. With such an attitude from above, the household staff naturally followed suit. Upon arriving at the grand hall of the estate, I found all the Blackwood family elders and kin present. Arthur, who had been gone all night, stood beside Eleanor, a look of tender affection in his eyes. The Blackwood matriarch beamed, her face practically splitting into a grin as she gazed at Eleanor’s belly. “Eleanor is finally pregnant. Today, with all the elders present, it’s time to fulfill the promise made six months ago!” The most respected elder of the clan stepped forward, publicly announcing Arthur Blackwood as the new head of the family. “Now that the Blackwood line has an heir, let’s pick a date and hold the wedding.” I looked up, only to see everyone, even Arthur, gazing at Eleanor. Oblivious to the world, he gently stroked Eleanor’s belly, his eyes soft. “I’m a father.” Not “I’m a father again,” but “I’m a father.” A bitter ache seized my heart, and I clenched my fist tighter. Leo’s weak voice echoed through the hall. “Mommy, it hurts.” I quickly loosened my grip. My son’s small hand was bright red. “Mommy’s sorry, Mommy will kiss it better for you, Leo…” My son’s single remark drew the attention of everyone in the hall. The elder frowned. “If news of the Blackwood family head having a child out of wedlock were to spread, the family’s reputation would be ruined.” “Just a bastard born of a loose woman,” Arthur’s mother sneered, glancing at me. “From now on, we’ll say this child is from a distant branch of the Blackwood family, raised here on the estate.” Arthur’s mother disliked me, and that dislike extended to Leo. It had been her idea to use Arthur dividing his attention between two women as leverage for him to secure his position as head of the family. Now that Eleanor was pregnant, Leo naturally became even more disposable. Arthur released Eleanor’s hand. “Mother, isn’t that going too far?” He started to walk toward me but was subtly pulled back by Eleanor. I saw it clearly. Taking Leo’s hand, I walked to Arthur’s mother. “As you wish. From now on, Leo will no longer be Arthur Blackwood’s son.” I knelt before Leo, my eyes red, and explained to him. “Darling, from now on, you can’t call him ‘Daddy.’ You must call him ‘Mr. Blackwood,’ do you understand?” Arthur froze. He knew that for the past six months, my presence here was largely due to Leo. He searched my eyes for a hint of reluctance, a flicker of unwillingness. But he found none. A small child couldn’t grasp the complexities of the situation. His little face was tear-streaked and red. I quickly led Leo away, but Eleanor’s voice stopped us. “Miss Hayes, I hear purple jade is best for pregnancy. Arthur searched for days and couldn’t find any, but you seem to have a piece! Would you consider parting with it?” 3 “Arthur Blackwood, is this your wish too?” I looked at the hickeys exposed on Eleanor’s neck as she tilted her head back. A thousand tiny needles pricked my heart, a sharp, lingering pain. That purple jade pendant was our token of commitment. We had met at a gemstone expo in the Lake Country, both drawn to the same piece of purple jade. On the day of our informal ceremony, Arthur had personally braided a cord and tied the jade around my neck, promising a lifetime as a devoted pair. I knew Eleanor coveted it; she had asked Arthur for it more than once, and he had refused. But this time, he averted his gaze, his eyes filled with hesitation and guilt. “Perhaps you should…” “Fine.” I scoffed, ripping the purple jade from my neck and placing it in Eleanor’s hand. Watching Eleanor gleefully put it on, I remarked, “It truly is a perfect match.” Then, under Arthur’s startled gaze, I picked up Leo and walked away. Back at the villa, Leo was still sobbing uncontrollably, gasping for breath. I stifled my own heartache, holding his small hand and asking him, “Leo, if Mommy wants to take you away from here, will you come with Mommy?” Leo’s tears flowed even faster. “Mommy, can’t we stay?” “But Leo, Daddy and Grandmother don’t want us here. Do you want to call him ‘Mr. Blackwood’ forever?” I held back my tears, looking at my son gently. Selfishly, I wished he would only be my child, favoring me unconditionally. But that wasn’t realistic. Leo clutched the Lego set in his arms, Arthur’s birthday gift from last year. “Mommy, I want to celebrate my birthday with Daddy one more time… can I?” The child stubbornly refused to change his words. I closed my eyes, pulling him into a hug, and nodded. “Alright.” … February 12th was Leo’s birthday. I had deliberately reminded Arthur two days in advance, urging him to prepare. This might be the last birthday my son would celebrate with him. I hoped Leo would get his wish. On his birthday, Leo woke up early, put on his little suit, and nervously asked me, “Mommy, Daddy will come to Leo’s birthday party, right?” “He’ll definitely be there,” I whispered, comforting my son, and sent a text to Arthur: “It’s our son’s birthday today. Where are you?” The message vanished without a trace, like a stone dropped into a bottomless well. Leo lowered his head, clutching the ribbon on the cake box. “Daddy’s not coming, is he?” After a long moment, he seemed to come to a realization, comforting himself. “It’s okay. Mr. Blackwood is busy. We won’t bother him. Mommy, let’s eat the cake.” This was the first time my son had called Arthur “Mr. Blackwood.” He seemed to be slowly accepting that his father didn’t truly care for him. But his trembling lips and reddened eyes betrayed his sadness. Watching my son pretend to be strong, the suffocating ache in my heart ignited, burning, clawing at my very soul. I picked up my phone and opened Arthur’s chat. “You don’t even have time for your son’s birthday? Do you really love Eleanor so much, wanting to be by her side every moment?” My finger hovered over the send button, not pressing it for a long time. Just then, a new message popped up in the chat: “Come to the Blackwood family estate.”

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The day before my wedding, my fiancée, Rebecca Grant, suddenly declared she was marrying my best friend, Leo Dalton. Double-crossed and humiliated, everyone waited for my spectacular downfall. But then, Scarlett Monroe, a prominent socialite and CEO from the Capital City, descended from the sky, as it were, and declared her feelings for me. Scarlett and I married. After that, I settled into life as a devoted homebody, teaching at the university, managing the household, and learning to be a stay-at-home husband. Some time later, at a business gala, I went to pick up a heavily intoxicated Scarlett. I overheard her brother speaking sympathetically about me: “Scarlett, isn’t the Dalton Mall you’ve built opening soon? You’ve sacrificed so much to pave the way for Leo, even your own marriage, manipulating Ethan. How long do you plan to fool him?” Scarlett’s voice was filled with a bitter resignation. “As long as Leo is happy, I will clear every obstacle for him.” It dawned on me then: all the affection, all the profound love, could be an act. I, Ethan Hayes, was just another pawn in their elaborate game. So, I decided to walk away. … Clutching a thermos of hangover remedy, with Ms. Davies, my secretary, by my side, I hurried to the gala at The Grand Crown Hotel. The server informed me that Scarlett was resting in the VVIP suite. Before I could even push open the door, a strong scent of alcohol wafted out. Through the door, I heard a familiar male voice: “Scarlett, isn’t the Dalton Mall you’ve built opening soon? All these years, you’ve sacrificed so much to pave the way for Leo, even your own marriage, manipulating Ethan. How long do you plan to fool him?” A jolt of confusion hit me. I was about to push the door open when I heard Scarlett’s voice, tinged with bitterness and heavy with drink: “Brother, as long as Leo is happy, I can keep up this act for a lifetime. I will clear every obstacle for Leo.” I was struck by lightning, my hand freezing mid-air. Ms. Davies, beside me, gave me a knowing but sympathetic look, her gaze anxious. So, everyone knew. Only I had been living in a fool’s paradise. The elegant strains of the cello from the hotel lobby seemed to twist into a discordant shriek in my ears, utterly grating. “Ethan loves you so much. What if, one day, he finds out the truth?” “He never will.” Inside the warm hotel, a shiver ran down my spine. I lowered my voice, speaking to Ms. Davies. “Ms. Monroe has had too much to drink today. Bring her out in a moment. I’ll wait for you in the car. Remember, don’t say anything you shouldn’t.” I sat in the car, staring blankly at the starry ceiling. Years of memories flashed through my mind like a slideshow, frame by agonizing frame. Rebecca, my fiancée, had suddenly broken off our engagement, causing a scandalous uproar. Everyone waited for my spectacular downfall, but then Scarlett appeared, claiming she had loved me for a long time. Caught in the eye of the storm, I was moved by her, deciding to marry her, creating a heartwarming tale in the Capital City’s elite circles. Now, it was clear: this marriage, woven from deceit, was nothing more than a cruel joke. Ms. Davies helped Scarlett into the car. Seeing me, Scarlett paused, surprised. Her misty eyes cleared instantly, and she leaned her head against my shoulder. “It’s just a gala. Ms. Davies could have picked me up. You work hard teaching and writing papers for your students; you don’t need to be running around.” I forced a tender smile. “I was just worried about you.” She embraced my arm, her voice soft. “The company’s new mall opens tomorrow; I might be busy very late. You go to sleep first, don’t wait for me. The weather’s been erratic lately, so take care of yourself.” Late that night, I tossed and turned, unable to sleep. I remembered I’d left my headphones in the study. In the study, a few pages peeked out from a drawer under the desk. Usually, this drawer was locked. On an impulse, I pulled, and it opened. Inside were design blueprints for all of Scarlett’s company’s current and future development sites and commercial properties, along with a watch box. I flipped through the blueprints, page by page, and suddenly realized that the names of these plots and properties, even some of their floor numbers and logos, all, without exception, featured the word “Dalton”: Dalton Mall, Dalton Heights residential complex, Dalton Jewelers… Although I was an architecture major, Scarlett had always told me she had her own team, and I rarely interfered with company affairs. It became chillingly clear: every corner of her business world was etched with her endless love for Leo. I opened the watch box. It was empty, but the certificate was still there. It was for a Richard Mille Gem-Set Crystal timepiece. I had always liked this watch; I’d even opened my phone once to look at it repeatedly. Scarlett had glanced over and said, “Ethan, a watch like that, worth ten or twenty million, is highly overpriced, and too flashy for school. How about I get you an iWatch instead?” I remembered that yesterday, in a picture on social media, Leo Dalton was wearing that very Richard Mille watch on his wrist. I walked out to the balcony. The night was deep, the wind cuttingly cold. My eyes burned, a familiar prickle of tears. My phone screen lit up, a message popping in: “Mr. Hayes, are you sure you’ve made up your mind?” “I have.” It was time to leave. The next morning, as I was leaving the house, I called out to Scarlett. “I’m going to Paris tonight.” She looked surprised. “Why so sudden?” My heart ached, but I feigned nonchalance. “Paris University is hosting an international academic exchange. I just got the notification.” She kissed my cheek lightly, not sensing my sorrow. “Don’t work too hard. Come back as soon as the conference is over.” I couldn’t help but marvel at how perfectly someone could feign such profound affection. Since everything was a lie, it was time for me to completely exit this farce. I remembered the address of her new mall from the blueprints and drove directly there. After today, I would completely disappear from Scarlett’s world. This would be our last farewell. Inside the mall, a designated area had been set up. Scarlett stood out vividly in the crowd, her high heels clicking, her aura commanding as she mingled with guests. Leo’s handsome face broke into a smile. He raised his glass to Scarlett. “Ms. Monroe, congratulations!” Scarlett’s eyes shimmered with complex emotions as she clinked glasses with Leo. “Mr. Dalton, it’s thanks to your top-notch design that our Dalton Mall is so magnificent, attracting so many customers right from its opening.” She emphasized “our mall.” My heart clenched. I walked towards them. Scarlett’s eyes widened in surprise when she saw me, then quickly softened into her usual gentle expression. “Why are you here?” I forced a smile. “What? Am I not welcome?” Scarlett put down her glass. “How could you say that? I was just worried about distracting you from your work.” Leo glanced at me, his eyes full of hidden meaning. Just then, Ms. Davies hurried over. “Ms. Monroe, it’s time for your speech.” Scarlett said to me, “Then you rest a bit. I’ll be right back.” With that, she hurried onto the stage. I picked up a glass of champagne and sat down. Leo walked over, his voice dripping with mockery. “Long time no see, Ethan. My… dear brother. What? Starting to check up on her now? Why don’t you just tie Scarlett to your hip! How does it feel to be a kept man?” He leaned in, his voice a low sneer. “You better remember, you’ll always be my inferior.” He laughed heartily, and as he raised his hand, the Richard Mille watch on his wrist glinted, painfully bright. Leo and I were once the best of friends, so close we decided to study architecture together. But after my fiancée, Rebecca, broke off our engagement and married Leo, we became bitter enemies. Betrayed in both friendship and love, I was utterly devastated. Just when I thought my life had plunged into endless darkness, Scarlett’s appearance brought light back into my world. After deciding to marry Scarlett, she suddenly told me, while we were preparing for an international architecture competition: “Ethan, aren’t you very fond of the academic environment at the university? Why don’t you give up your company work and just focus on teaching and writing papers?” Moved, I immediately sold my architectural design firm and withdrew from the competition. The ultimate winner of that international architecture competition was Leo Dalton. He became an internationally renowned architect, while I became “Professor Hayes,” busy with lectures and grading. Thinking back, Scarlett must have been clearing obstacles for Leo from the very beginning. I looked up at the interior of the mall. The structural design was incredibly familiar, so familiar I wondered if I was hallucinating, yet some parts were modified in an awkward, ill-fitting way. My heart began to pound violently. I had an old design blueprint saved on my computer. After abandoning my architectural career, I hadn’t opened it again. How did my old design blueprint become Leo’s design now? And how was it built into a mall by Scarlett? I suppressed the confusion churning in my mind, casting a cold glance at Leo. Just as I was about to speak, I heard him bellow, “Ethan! What are you doing?!” “Ah—” Before I could react, Leo suddenly stumbled and fell, clutching his calf and lying on the ground, his face contorted in pain. A collective gasp rippled through the crowd. “Quick! Call an ambulance!” “Someone fell! Get a doctor!” People crowded around, their gazes complex as they looked at me. Amidst the clamor, I saw an all-too-familiar figure. “Leo!” It was Scarlett, my wife for three years. Her face filled with panic, she rushed off the stage, pushing me aside. She knelt by Leo, asking anxiously, “Is your leg okay?” Just then, a doctor arrived. Scarlett carefully helped Leo onto a stretcher. She stood beside me, barely suppressing the fury on her face, and said, “I know you two had a falling out, but you shouldn’t have pushed him. Don’t you know he just recovered from breaking his leg skiing a while ago?” I looked at her, as if I had never truly known her. My voice trembled slightly. “Why? The design of this mall… it’s so similar to the blueprint on my computer?” Scarlett frowned. “How would I know? What blueprint? Architectural design uses standard software, it’s normal for things to look similar!” I couldn’t help but give a bitter, wry smile. My home computer, apart from the housekeeper, was only accessible to her. Sensing my displeasure and suspicion, she changed the subject. “I was too rash just now. I was just worried it would affect our future business partnership with the Dalton and Grant families. After all, Leo is still our chief designer, and I don’t want you to have trouble.” Seeing my expression, Scarlett softened her tone, grasping my hand tightly. “Let’s have lunch together. I’ll ask Ms. Davies to find a place. I’ll come over after I’ve dealt with things here. I’ll handle the Daltons and Grants.” I nodded. I almost admired Scarlett now, for being able to act to such an extent for Leo’s happiness. When I entered the Starlight Hotel’s top-floor restaurant, which offered the most expansive view, I received a few messages from Scarlett: “Leo’s leg is fine, just a scratch.” “Rebecca also said she won’t press charges.” I stood by the window, quietly watching the birds fly by, and replied to Scarlett: “Hm, that’s good.” Just as I was about to put down my phone, Leo sent me a stack of photos and a string of messages. “Oops, wrong recipient.” I zoomed in on the photos. Leo was drinking tea, selecting items. The slender hand of the person opposite him wore a familiar Van Cleef & Arpels limited edition bracelet – a birthday gift I had given to Scarlett. I sat on the sofa, waiting for a very long time, until the sun began to set. Scarlett didn’t come. I called Scarlett. It connected instantly.

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I was diagnosed with cancer, and my son’s materialistic girlfriend immediately seized all our family’s assets. She then declared that it was all her wedding fund, and I, even if I died on the streets, shouldn’t dare to spend a single penny of “her” money. This ultimately caused me to miss the optimal treatment window, my condition worsening, leaving me with little time left. In a surge of rage and despair, I dragged her with me, leaping to our deaths. When I opened my eyes again, I was back in time, to the very first meeting with that materialistic girlfriend. And I could hear her thoughts. It was then I realized: the materialistic one wasn’t her at all. 1 “David said Auntie wouldn’t even glance at a bracelet under five thousand, but the one I bought was only eight hundred. Still, it was all the money I saved from working hard and living frugally for an entire semester. I gave it to her a few days ago, but why isn’t she wearing it? She really must look down on my gifts.” Emily’s voice, broken and hesitant, drifted into my ears. I opened my eyes to the familiar scene of my home, a jolt of recognition telling me I had been reborn. I had returned to the day my son, David Brown, first brought his girlfriend, Emily Taylor, to meet me. In my past life, this supposedly “gold-digging” girl, even before marrying David, had firmly controlled his entire salary. She’d used her supposed family custom of a two-million-dollar wedding fund as leverage, forcing us to sell everything we owned to gather the money for her. This left me with absolutely nothing when I was diagnosed with cancer. I tried to negotiate with her, asking her to return a portion of the money for my treatment, promising to repay her later. But she flatly refused. Worse, she told David, “All the money in your family is my wedding fund. Your mother’s old life isn’t worth saving. Even if she dies on the street, she won’t touch a single penny of my money.” Her unwavering refusal to contribute meant I missed my chance at treatment, my early-stage cancer dragging on to its terminal phase. Staring at the few days I had left, I was consumed by grief and rage. The next time she came to visit, I dragged her with me, leaping from the building. But I never imagined I’d be reborn. Lost in a daze, I heard her speaking in my mind. Something about a gold bracelet… what did it mean? I looked up, staring at Emily, who sat awkwardly before me. That voice, her internal monologue, resonated again: “Auntie is staring at me so seriously. Is she unhappy with me? I shouldn’t have listened to David. He said it would be embarrassing to give it to Auntie in person, that I should give it to him beforehand. If I’d known, I would have asked Mom and Dad for more money and bought a bigger one. Auntie definitely wouldn’t think I didn’t care about her now.” Emily’s lips didn’t move, yet the voice flowed continuously. Was it her thoughts? But when had she ever given me a gold bracelet? In my past life, from a month before our first meeting, she had been asserting her dominance. She’d claimed she wouldn’t eat fruit under fifty dollars a pound, or dine anywhere less than a five-star restaurant. Even the slippers she wore into our home had to be limited-edition, celebrity-endorsed brands. And when she left, she demanded a large cash gift. Yet, she herself never spent a single penny, and her gifts to me were always cheap supermarket giveaways. As I wondered, Emily glanced at David, then suddenly stood up, excusing herself to the restroom. Once she was gone, David anxiously pulled at my arm. “Mom, why are you just sitting there? Why aren’t you giving her a welcome gift? Emily looks upset. And your fruit, your food… it’s not what Emily asked for, is it? Aren’t you clearly trying to assert your dominance?” I froze. David had said the exact same thing to me in my past life. Back then, I’d immediately thought Emily was terribly materialistic and a bad girl, which fueled my strong prejudice against her later on. But judging by Emily’s thoughts just now, she didn’t seem to have that intention at all. 2 I eyed David suspiciously, a seed of doubt sprouting about him too. In my previous life, this boy had been so weak, his world revolving solely around his girlfriend. When I desperately needed money and considered suing for it, he stopped me repeatedly, pleading with me not to make things ugly, saying they still had to live together and he could handle it. But when I lay on my sickbed, my condition worsening, his “solution” never materialized. In this life, I couldn’t trust this ungrateful wolf entirely. My face hardened, and I retorted, “What do you mean, ‘asserting dominance’? Just because I didn’t treat her like royalty, that’s asserting dominance? I prepared gifts and a welcome envelope, and she gave me a free toothbrush from the supermarket. Looks like she doesn’t think much of our family either.” I stared him down. “Let me tell you now: even if you marry her, I won’t acknowledge it.” David hadn’t expected my sudden outburst. He flinched, quickly pulling me closer and whispering, “Mom, I told you, Emily’s family isn’t well-off. She’s been through a lot. Now, we should let her enjoy life. Just humor her, please don’t say those things. What if she hears you?” The words had barely left his mouth when Emily returned. She looked at the heavy atmosphere between David and me, startled. Her inner voice echoed again: “Didn’t I just give David a look to tell him to soothe Auntie? How did things get even worse?” Watching her awkwardly sit down, my suspicion grew. I cleared my throat and spoke. “Emily, dear, you’re still a student. I don’t need you to buy me anything. Just coming to visit makes me very happy.” Emily’s expression was puzzled. Her inner voice resonated: “What does she mean, ‘didn’t buy a gift’? Didn’t I tell David to give her the gold bracelet? Even if she looks down on it, she can’t say I didn’t buy anything, can she?” I subtly glanced at David, then pulled out a few toothbrushes from under the coffee table, placing them on top. “David told me you always think of Auntie, and specifically got these free samples from the supermarket for me.” Emily jumped, quickly turning to David. “When did I give Auntie toothbrushes? What about the gold bracelet? Didn’t you give it to Auntie?” 3 David’s face stiffened, but he quickly recovered his composure. He calmly pulled a gold bracelet from his bag, grinning sheepishly. “Oh, I forgot to give it to her. It’s better this way, you can personally give it to my mom, it’s more formal.” Emily breathed a sigh of relief. As she busied herself putting the bracelet on my wrist, her inner voice chimed in again: “David is so careless, he forgot something like this. Good thing Auntie asked, otherwise what would she have thought of me?” I frowned. Emily’s actions didn’t match my past life’s memory either. Could it be that in my past life, she had also prepared a gold bracelet, but because David forgot, and I, not wanting to ask for a gift on our first meeting, never brought it up, it led to a misunderstanding? And why didn’t David ever give me the gold bracelet later? There must be more to this. And then, she held onto our family’s assets, which led to my tragic death. I absolutely had to investigate this. Once the bracelet was on, Emily held my hand, smiling. “Auntie, gold looks so beautiful on you. It really suits your elegance.” I looked down at the bracelet, a strange emotion stirring within me. In my previous life, our first meeting had been so disastrous that our impressions of each other were terrible, leading to very little interaction afterward. I never knew she could say such pleasant things. Emily then turned to David, chiding him gently. “When are you going to start taking my things seriously? Last time, I bought a set of skincare products for Auntie and asked you to deliver them. You completely forgot, and ended up using them yourself. Now you even forget something as important as this?” I remembered the skincare products very clearly. A month ago, I accidentally appeared in a video call between Emily and David. At the time, I was using a face cream. Emily saw the brand of my cream and chatted with me about it. But as soon as David hung up, he told me Emily was furious. Because the brand of face cream I used was even more expensive than hers. David had said, “Emily thinks you’re too old to be using such expensive brands. You should save that money for your future grandchild. Just use basic drugstore cream, that’s fine for you.” At the time, I was so enraged I felt my lungs would burst. I immediately told David that this girlfriend wouldn’t do. Now, it seemed, many things were not as I had understood them. David cast a guilty glance at me, then pulled Emily into a hug, still grinning. “I know I messed up, darling. Next time, I’ll put you and Mom at the top of my priority list.” My heart sank deeper and deeper. Everything I had once believed Emily had done to me, she seemed completely unaware of. And what about seizing all our family’s assets? Could that also have nothing to do with her? Filled with questions, I finished the meal. David left to take Emily back to university. I immediately scheduled a full physical examination at the clinic. The doctor, pointing at the lab report, told me they had found a tiny lesion in my stomach. A biopsy confirmed it was gastric cancer. Fortunately, I had caught it very early; the cure rate was extremely high. They just needed to surgically remove the affected tissue and scheduled my operation. I breathed a sigh of relief. Thankfully, I had made it in time in this life. On the way home, my steps felt lighter than air. When I arrived, David was already back, slouched on the sofa, head drooping, looking utterly dejected. The moment he saw me, he put on a mournful face. “Mom, Emily said she wants a two-million-dollar wedding fund. What are we going to do?” 4 David wiped away a tear. “Emily said that in her family, a multi-million-dollar wedding fund is absolutely essential. Two million is already the bare minimum. If I can’t come up with it, she’ll break up with me.” He grabbed my hand, his words earnest. “Mom, I really love her and want to marry her. Please help me figure something out. When I make a lot of money in the future, I’ll take good care of you. Forget two million, I’ll give you even more!” I looked at him silently. “First, explain what happened with the skincare products Emily mentioned.” David’s eyes darted nervously. “You hadn’t even finished your own skincare products yet, so I figured you wouldn’t need Emily’s right away. And you used to always give me your extras, didn’t you? So, this time I took the liberty of using them myself. I just forgot to tell you, that’s all.” David looked at me, annoyed. “Why are you so petty with your own son?” “Then why did you tell me she thought I only deserved to use basic, cheap cream?” David began to throw a tantrum. “That was just me misunderstanding her meaning! I’ll be more careful in the future. Just let it go this once. Right now, the urgent matter is Emily’s two-million-dollar wedding fund. Mom, I’m your only son, you have to help me figure this out.” I wasn’t satisfied with David’s explanation. He had been sharp as a tack since he was little. How could he possibly misunderstand something so simple? Was he secretly playing some trick behind my back? And did Emily know? So, I played along with his words. “How about you invite Emily over for dinner again soon? I want to get a better sense of her character. If she passes my test, forget two million, I’ll even sell everything we own to get you three million for her wedding fund.” David’s eyes lit up, but then he worriedly cautioned me. “When Emily comes, you absolutely cannot mention the wedding fund. She’s already unhappy, and I’m afraid she’ll get even angrier and the wedding will be off.” I gave him a faint glance. It was probably less about him not wanting Emily to worry, and more about him being afraid of me questioning Emily. David acted quickly. The very next day, he brought Emily back. But her expression didn’t look good. She was even a little aloof in her interactions with me.

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Damien Sterling’s golden canary was pregnant and flew the coop. He was frantic, scurrying like ants on a hot skillet, pulling every string, every contact in the industry. He even flew abroad himself to smooth things over with her. “When she returns, make sure she gets the Best Actress award,” he ordered me, just before leaving. “Will you… will you be back?” I asked him, my voice barely a whisper. He snatched the documents from my hand with an impatient sigh. “Of course I’ll be back. Can’t you bear to be without me for a single day?” He scribbled his signature, then tossed the papers aside and walked out. He was in such a rush, he didn’t even glance at what he’d signed – our divorce papers. 1. I had been married to Damien Sterling for seven years, during which he kept countless mistresses. For the most part, I simply turned a blind eye. That was until Melody Sinclair appeared. She was the reigning beauty of the Dance Academy, the epitome of the innocent ingenue, seemingly untouched by the grime of the world. When she met Damien, she claimed she wanted neither money nor fame – only to marry him. Unfortunately for her, Damien could give her anything but a marriage. To compensate, he poured immense resources into her career, transforming her from an unknown student into a top-tier star. He shielded her from every industry predator, had seasoned Oscar winners play her sidekick, and generally spoiled her rotten. According to his meticulously laid plans, she was on the verge of becoming a major A-lister. But then, at the most critical juncture of her career, she got pregnant. So she flew the coop, with the baby-to-be. And, just to twist the knife, she chose our seventh wedding anniversary to do it. “Madam, Mr. Sterling is truly leaving!” Daisy, my assistant, burst into the room, her voice laced with urgency. “Aren’t you going to stop him? Didn’t Mr. Sterling promise you…?” Damien had promised to spend our seventh anniversary with me. I’d meticulously planned everything for months. A sudden memory surfaced: the first time I saw Melody. Damien had announced he was going to the Dance Academy to scout for a new actress, claiming he’d found someone with incredible potential. As a producer for his company, I should have gone, of course. She was in the dance studio, twirling through a ballet routine, as graceful and ethereal as a butterfly. Yet, the moment Damien turned away, she leaned close to my ear, a cold sneer twisting her delicate features. “Auntie, at your age, can you really keep Mr. Sterling interested?” she whispered, her eyes raking over me. “Do you even have any femininity left?” She wasn’t entirely wrong. In every superficial aspect, she surpassed me. I offered a quiet smile, then calmly folded the divorce papers on the table. “Daisy, please help me find the jade bracelet my mother left me.” It was my only tangible memory of her. I called my lawyer, instructing him to audit the companies registered under my name and prepare for a change in management. Then, I had the household staff meticulously erase every trace of “me” from the sprawling villa. Finally, I packed my personal belongings. There wasn’t much, truly. Just a few gifts. This Cartier necklace, he gave me for my twenty-eighth birthday. This Hermès bag, a surprise from last year’s wedding anniversary. These wedding rings, custom-made, one of a kind, with our initials intricately carved into the inner bands. He had once been so good to me, making me mistakenly believe I was his one and only. But it only took six months for the affairs to begin. “Vivienne, don’t you have any friends? Why do you always have to cling to me?” “Vivienne, I’m busy. I don’t have time to coddle you!” 2. “Vivienne Sterling! Why are you so dramatic?!” Deep affection fades easily. Even before Melody’s appearance, Damien had already grown tired of me. I left all the luxury goods, the jewelry, every single gift Damien had ever given me, in the master bedroom. I didn’t want them cluttering my sight, so I tossed our framed wedding photos directly into the garbage bin. Then, I left the villa. I rented a quiet apartment. The day I moved out, Daisy also resigned. I offered her a position at one of my companies. “Shouldn’t you wait a little longer…? Mr. Sterling, he wouldn’t divorce you…” Daisy stammered, her eyes wide with disbelief. I shook my head. “It’s not him leaving me, Daisy. I’m leaving him.” I gently patted her head. “You’ll come work for me. I promise you’ll be well taken care of.” Suddenly, my phone buzzed with an incoming message. Daisy’s eyes lit up. “It must be Mr. Sterling! He knows he was wrong, he’s apologizing!” She urged, “Madam, quickly, check it!” I stared at the unread notification. It had been so long since Damien had sent me a message. During our courtship, his texts had been a stream of sweet nothings. Now… “Madam, hurry!” Daisy pressed again, brimming with anticipation. I took a deep breath and opened the message: “Melody is pregnant. We’re preparing to return.” “She’s delicate right now and needs proper care. Have the housekeeper clear out the master bedroom for her. She’ll be moving in.” “Melody has little appetite. Tell the kitchen to prepare more bland, easily digestible meals.” “She’s been craving sweets lately. She really enjoyed the macarons you made.” “Decorate the room in a minimalist style. She loves sunlight, so choose transparent curtains.” “Also, clear out the walk-in closet. She prefers fresh colors like sky blue and grass green.” “Oh, and for the baby, I want him to be registered under my name. You handle all the paperwork.” Message after message, each line overflowing with concern for her. I hit ‘delete’ instantly, then blocked his number. I turned my back. And I never looked back. Melody wasn’t eager to return to the States so soon. She wanted to extend her vacation a little longer, and Damien was also wary of paparazzi catching her in her current state, which might affect her public image. So they lingered abroad for a while longer. After all, he’d fully entrusted all household matters to Vivienne Sterling. “Mr. Sterling truly is a ladies’ man, taking his mistress on a lavish European getaway while his legitimate wife is left back home to clean up her mess.” “Doesn’t the wife get angry?” Someone brought this up at a recent business dinner. Another quickly chimed in: “Mr. Sterling, you just don’t understand.” 3. “Mrs. Sterling is famously devoted to Mr. Sterling. Forget keeping a golden canary; she’d probably willingly divorce him to make way for the new woman.” “Am I right, Mr. Sterling?” Damien raised an eyebrow. They weren’t wrong. Vivienne was gentle, obedient. Her eyes and heart were solely for him. And she was a valuable asset in his business. That day, when he told her to arrange the Best Actress award for Melody, she hadn’t objected at all. Instead, she’d only asked when he’d be back. She couldn’t bear to be without him for a single day. Just then, his secretary knocked and entered. Damien hooked a finger, beckoning him closer. “How is Vivienne doing back home? Has she followed my instructions?” The secretary bent low, glancing at the others seated at the table, hesitating. “It’s fine, these are all old friends. Speak freely.” The secretary lowered his head. “The housekeeper called to say… Madam has moved out.” “Moved out?” “Yes… Madam packed her bags… and moved out…” Damien shot to his feet. Melody, who had been silently observing from the side, suddenly let out a soft laugh. “Well, it seems Mrs. Sterling has a rebellious streak, after all.” She added, her eyes welling up with sudden tears, “But she’s your legally wedded wife, Mr. Sterling. Would she really leave you?” Before he could respond, she gripped his arm. “It’s all my fault for being so impulsive… I must have truly angered Mrs. Sterling… Mr. Sterling, let’s go back quickly. What if she divorces you out of spite?” Damien scoffed. Divorce? And return to her father’s house, a place that would surely devour her? “Clark,” he called to his secretary. “Reschedule my flight for two weeks from now.” He wanted to see. Where could she possibly move to, and how long could she hold out?! If she divorced, she would have no choice but to return to her family. But her mother had passed away years ago, and she had grown up with her father and stepmother. Her “family home” was really just her stepmother’s house. At the time of her marriage, her stepmother had already seized half of the inheritance her mother had left her. No, she would never go back to that house. I didn’t go back home. Instead, I went to see my aunt. “Are you truly divorcing Damien Sterling?” I didn’t know why. When Damien signed the divorce papers without a second thought, I didn’t cry. When I left the mansion alone, clutching my single suitcase, I didn’t cry. But now, at my aunt’s simple words of concern, tears welled up, uncontrollable. “Don’t cry, don’t cry. It’s for the best, darling.” My aunt wrapped me in a tight embrace. “That scoundrel’s philandering ways, who in the industry doesn’t know about them?!” I leaned quietly against my aunt’s shoulder, gently wiping away my tears. 4. “What are your plans after the divorce?” my aunt asked. I rarely confided my troubles in her. Whether it was the bullying from my stepmother back home or the unhappiness after marrying Damien, my aunt, a renowned producer, was already overwhelmed with work. I truly didn’t want to add to her worries. But this time, I poured out all my anxieties. Finally, I mumbled, a little embarrassed, “Please, Aunt Bea, don’t tell anyone about my divorce yet. If Father and Stepmother find out…” “Are you planning on dating again?” my aunt suddenly asked. I blinked, surprised. I wasn’t opposed to the idea. My aunt seemed to read my thoughts, then suddenly slapped her thigh. “I actually have a rather excellent candidate in mind! Would you be willing to meet him?” Rhys Montgomery. The undisputed scion of the Hollywood elite. My aunt’s most sought-after talent. He had entered the industry at thirteen and became an Oscar-winning actor by eighteen. His biggest secret was that he remained single, with not a single rumor of a past relationship. But such a minor detail was insignificant compared to his status and achievements. “Sigh,” Aunt Bea sighed dramatically. “Instead of having him linked to other actresses, how about…?” She looked at me conspiratorially. I understood instantly. I hadn’t expected things to move so quickly. The day after I agreed to meet him to see if we were compatible, he accepted an advertisement deal that sent him rushing to Havenwood. It is said that he has been working around the clock and hasn’t slept for three days. A week later, just before dawn, a knock echoed at the door of my temporary apartment. I had heard whispers about his reputation in the industry: the stoic movie star, never a fake smile for anyone, the charismatic, uninhibited Hollywood prince. Yet, standing before me was a refined man in a perfectly tailored suit. In his hand, a large bag of artisanal breakfast pastries. He shifted nervously. “I was just passing by,” he began, clearing his throat, “and heard this bakery has excellent pastries…” He added, “Thought you might like to try them.” His awkwardness made me chuckle. This “blind date” clearly meant a great deal to him. From his demeanor, it almost seemed as if he worried he wasn’t good enough for me. “Mr. Montgomery, please don’t be nervous,” I said, inviting him in. “Aunt Bea has told me everything. Just speak your mind.” I was prepared for anything. But his directness still exceeded my expectations. “Aunt Bea told you everything?” he asked, his eyes wide. I nodded. He took a deep breath. “These are the deeds to all my properties. Your name can be added immediately.” “These are all my bank cards. You’ll have full access.” “And this is… the divorce agreement I’ve already signed.” “Should you ever be dissatisfied, you can leave at any time with this agreement, and all my assets will be yours.” He presented the thick stack of documents, without pausing for a breath. “Please,” he said, his voice earnest, “marry me!” I said yes to Rhys Montgomery. There was no reason to refuse him. From his family background to his appearance to his personality, he was flawless.

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