At fifty-nine, I found myself pregnant again. More than twenty years ago, when we froze my eggs, my husband, John, and I were struggling financially. We hoped that after years of hard work, when things finally looked up, we could welcome a new life. But when that day finally arrived, I decided to personally end this hard-won fruit of our love. I was mesmerized, staring at the video. The woman in it, her silver hair framing a pretty face now streaked with tears, had just finished reading hundreds of handwritten letters from John. She covered her face, crying with regret, lamenting all the missed chances with John, shattering the last filter on what I thought was my perfect family. This false perfection? I’d rather not have it. 01 Just two weeks into the pregnancy, I was idly scrolling through short videos. The algorithm was scarily accurate; my husband’s name, “John Smith,” made my swiping finger pause. The woman in the video, though her hair was white, still possessed a gentle charm: “Johnny, we’ve missed so many years! You have no idea how hard I’ve looked for you!” Her face was full of regret as she covered it and wept. The vlogger’s schtick was man-on-the-street interviews, specifically asking elderly people about their life regrets and stories. The star of this particular video, a woman named Sylvia Shaw, was talking about her “one that got away.” At the beginning of the video, she confidently introduced herself and recounted her unforgettable past with my husband, John. She said they grew up together, and even back then, they’d had a mutual understanding. But because they were young, neither had confessed their feelings. It wasn’t until her family had a sudden upheaval and moved away, without a chance for goodbyes, that she lost the opportunity to tell that young man, “I like you.” With no contact information, that accident became a permanent separation. This young man became her “great lost love,” and because of him, she said, she never married, always waiting for him. Just as I was sighing at this woman’s one-sided devotion, the video continued: The vlogger, chasing views and authenticity, had managed to find the man Sylvia spoke of—my husband, John. When they met, they stood speechless, tears streaming down their faces. John’s eyes were filled with the pain and regret of years apart. After a daze lasting more than half a minute, prompted by the host, John handed Sylvia a thick stack of letters. He said he’d written them to her over the years but, not knowing her address, couldn’t send them. Now, finally, he could put them in her hands. The stack was so thick it took two hands to hold it steady; there must have been hundreds of them. Meaning, in the forty or fifty years they’d been apart, he’d written several love letters to Sylvia Shaw every year. Deep in emotion, John read a few of them aloud: “It’s the third year since we parted. I’ve met many girls, but only you remain forever in my memory.” “Sylvia, where on earth did you go? When will I ever see you again…” … “My family’s pushing me to go on blind dates. Sylvia, I can’t wait for you anymore.” “We talked about grocery shopping together, cooking together, enjoying the simple life, seeing the world together.” “But you broke our promise. Maybe in the next life, we’ll be together.” That was the year I met him on a blind date. He was 28, I was 22. So, his quick decision to marry me after knowing me for only six months wasn’t because he approved of me, but a casual move after failing to marry the girl he truly desired. Time moved on, and he picked up a few letters with clearer handwriting: “Today, Katherine asked me to take her to Paris. I said no.” “That was the romantic city you yearned for after seeing the magazine I gave you. How could I possibly go with another woman?” At that time, John’s business had just hit its first major success, and our daughter was on summer vacation. I’d never been abroad and wanted John to show me the world. He’d just made an excuse about being busy and flatly refused me. I never imagined the real reason was that he was saving that romantic scenery for someone else. “Sylvia, I was very sick recently. I thought I was going to die.” “But during the most painful part of my surgery, your face was the only thing in my mind.” “I don’t want to die. Maybe we can still meet in this life, just like before, sitting on the bridge at the edge of town, watching the sunset together. Then, I’d have no regrets.” That year, he was fifty-seven, I was fifty-one. He had a liver cyst, and it was indeed serious. He was in so much pain he couldn’t get out of bed. The doctor said it was a good thing they found it early, or he might not have made it. During the months of chemo, I stayed by his bedside every day, bathing him, washing his things, feeding him three meals a day. Only after the nurses’ shift change at 4 a.m. would I go home to take care of the elderly members of our family. So, when I was hunched over, feeding him, was he thinking about when he could have romantic moments with her again? How laughable. By the time John read the last letter, he was sobbing uncontrollably: “When I got that anonymous call saying you’d been waiting for me all this time, I was in a daze for a long while.” “Is it really you, Sylvia?” “Only then did I realize you’d been waiting for me. I’m the one who failed you.” This letter was dated June 2021. I clicked to check the video’s release date—December 20, 2021. So, the video was incredibly popular, but since I rarely used my phone, I was only seeing it now. This timing also reminded me. It was around then that my husband, John, started taking more frequent long trips, claiming he was scouting new projects. He’d be gone for a month or more at a time. Oh, God, why only let me see this now? 02 When I met my husband, I had just become a teacher in a small town. Upon first meeting me, he was full of praise for my profession: “A woman who teaches is wonderful, well-read and reasonable. Just my type.” Little did I know that this compliment, which made me happy for so long, wasn’t for me. It was because teaching was Sylvia’s dream. He was always looking for her shadow. If he couldn’t find someone similar, he’d look for a similar status or profession. Two years after we married, I got pregnant. Because there were so many chores at home and my in-laws needed care, my husband, John, persuaded me to quit my job. He appealed to my emotions and reason, saying the family couldn’t manage without me. He would be the one braving the business world; he hoped his wife would simply be a smiling presence at home, taking care of him and our child. Because I loved him, I did as he asked. That was the exact year I was due for a permanent position and promotion, my only chance for a tenured teaching spot. Over the years, John went from a junior employee to a manager. And now, using my family’s savings to start a business together, he had opened more than ten chain stores, becoming a respected boss. And I, once a pampered girl who’d never done a day’s hard labor, had become a worn-out housewife with calloused hands. My daily life was a three-point circuit: kitchen, grocery store, granddaughter’s preschool. Occasionally, I’d have to drive over fifteen miles to pick up a dead-drunk John and carry him home. My monotonous thirty-plus years were swallowed by trivialities. Meanwhile, John was successful, a respectable chain store owner and investor. He was even rejuvenated by the undying spark of love in his heart. It was already dark when John pushed open the door. This man standing in the dim entryway, whom I’d lived with for nearly forty years—today, I couldn’t see him clearly at all. “Why isn’t dinner ready yet, Kate?” John’s voice, as he entered, broke my train of thought. Only then did I realize it was almost seven in the evening. Usually, when John came home at this time, I would have dinner cooked, his bathwater ready. All he had to do was eat, bathe, and rest. But today, I hadn’t managed to do anything, and John’s face was already showing some displeasure. “Can we eat out tonight? I’m not feeling well.” I dragged my heavy body up and replied faintly. “Eat out? Are you kidding, Kate? In my condition, can I eat out?” “What’s wrong with you today? Isn’t the baby still small? You should still be able to cook, right?” John finally let his gaze rest on my face. His furrowed brow and impatient expression met mine, and only then did I remember: for so many years, he’d been obsessed with his health, especially his diet. Particularly after his recent surgery, he’d bought me stacks of medical books, demanding I follow them to create the best meal plans for him. Breakfast had to be chicken liver congee and white fungus egg custard. The chicken liver had to be bought at 5 a.m. from a farmer in a remote area, the freshest available, sliced into fine shreds, and simmered for an hour. The white fungus had to be the plumpest, most flawless pieces, hand-torn into small bits, and simmered with egg for exactly forty-five minutes. Not a minute more, not a minute less, or John would say it lost its original flavor and nutrition. Lunch and dinner were a bit easier; I could cook them normally. But John would only eat food cooked with olive oil. Where would our small town have culinary olive oil? I had to spend hours online researching, finally picking a reliable online store for long-term purchases. Actually, when he was discharged, the doctor had only said to eat less oil and salt; he wasn’t nearly this particular. “Oh, Kate, I’ve told you I only like your cooking.” “Never mind anything else, just go make dinner, please. Thanks for your hard work, my Kate.” Seeing I didn’t respond, John simply started talking while nudging me towards the kitchen. He himself didn’t stay a moment longer, turning around to sit on the sofa, scrolling on his phone, an occasional dazed smile on his face. John used to be generous with praise for my cooking. Only now did I realize those words were actually commands coated in honey. Even if you were unwilling, he’d force you to comply. I didn’t want to hear it anymore. I closed the kitchen door and opened a food delivery app. While waiting for the delivery, I booked a doctor’s appointment for the next day. “What’s this, Kate? You weren’t cooking in there? Why did you order takeout?” John, holding the just-delivered food, pushed open the kitchen door, somewhat annoyed. “I’m tired today. Just once, let’s have takeout.” “These are dishes we eat all the time. Young people eat this stuff daily; one time won’t hurt.” I took the takeout and sat down at the table, starting to eat by myself. As I ate, listening to John’s unhappy complaints, tears welled up uncontrollably. In my thirty-plus years with John, despite life’s hardships, I’d considered myself quite happy and fulfilled. After I quit my job, he focused on his career, and I took care of the home. In his words, I was the best kind of supportive wife. In my memory, though he was mostly a busy figure, he had never raised his voice at me. I thought we were a model couple, admired by the neighbors, because of our mutual understanding and support. But in the end, the truth was, I had never truly entered his heart, which created the illusion of a harmonious “respectful as guests” marriage. These thirty-plus years of “happiness” were like an empty mirror, now completely shattered. Tears blurred my vision, and my heart felt like a stormy sea. Finally, all my grievances poured out. I put down my chopsticks and started to wail. My hands unconsciously beat against the man before me. John was shocked by my outburst, staring at me helplessly, asking what on earth was wrong. I stared at this man before me, who couldn’t “see” my heart at all. I felt as if all my energy had been drained, and everything seemed utterly meaningless. I opened the video I had saved earlier, turned the volume to maximum, and demanded a pointless explanation. Before it even reached the most dramatic part—John’s heartfelt confessions—he snatched the phone away: “Who sent this to you? What’s so interesting about it!” “It’s just reminiscing about an old friend from childhood, nothing to explain.” “Can’t I have female friends?” “When you were young, you had tons of male friends around you!” “Besides, you can see this video is from years ago.” “And you know young people in business these days, who doesn’t play around with the internet?” “I was just cooperating with the vlogger for some traffic. It’s all in the past. What are you trying to do?” “Sylvia and I, we did have some feelings, but that’s over.” “If you’re going to make a fuss about it now, you’re in the wrong. Don’t tell me you’ve gone and found Sylvia, have you?” “I’m warning you, I won’t allow you to disturb her!” At this moment, John showed no trace of guilt. His eyes wide with anger only told me one thing: he only cared about her. In this whole affair, as the wife, my entanglement and accusations—he was never worried about my pain, only about Sylvia Shaw’s well-being. This argument, one of the few in our half-lifetime together, ended with the harsh sound of John slamming the door as he left. 03 He didn’t come back that night, and I didn’t ask. The next day, I woke up very early and went to see the doctor I had already scheduled.

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1: The Bitter Cold of New Year’s Eve I lay on the freezing operating table, hemorrhaging from my lower abdomen. The doctor asked if there were any family members I wished to contact. I dialed my mother’s number. “Mom… I had the baby…” “I think I’m dying… Can you come be with me?” “Liv, what the hell are you नाटकing now? Giving birth and you’re already acting like you’re at death’s door? How come you weren’t so scared when you were secretly getting those abortions before?” “But…” “Enough. If you’re going to die, die quickly. It’ll be a relief for everyone!” Later, as she wished, I really did die. But then, she lost her mind. … An excruciating pain shot through my lower abdomen. I lay all alone in the intensive care unit. “Enough. If you’re going to die, die quickly. It’ll be a relief for everyone!” My mother’s final words were like the last slash of a knife on someone being slowly tortured to death. Outside the window, snow fell heavily. The New Year’s fireworks were dazzling, and families gathered together, watching the countdown on their screens. On the brink of death, my soul slipped from my body, drifting on a faint consciousness towards where my mother was. I saw her at a New Year’s charity gala, sumptuously dressed, taking a call in a corner. This woman, Catherine, yelled into her phone and then hung up. Ah, that must have been the last call I made. Then, she quickly plastered on a perfect smile and returned to the center of the gala. “Sorry to keep you all. As the New Year arrives, I’m thrilled to announce that the number of underprivileged children sponsored by our Angel’s Wings Foundation has reached five figures!” After her speech, thunderous applause erupted from below the stage. The underprivileged children, sponsored by my mother, had tears in their eyes. They shouted one after another, “Mama Catherine! I love you!” “Mama Catherine, you’re my angel!” The air was filled with joyous laughter. The New Year’s bell chimed. I died. Died in a cold hospital room. Meanwhile, under the spotlight, my mother was laughing heartily, surrounded by the underprivileged children. It was a smile I, as her daughter, had strived my whole life to see but never had. A little girl shouted towards my mother: “Mama Catherine, it would be so wonderful to be your daughter!” Yeah, how wonderful for me. My soul looked at my corpse, covered in bruises and scars, and laughed coldly. A final tear slid from the corner of the eye of my already cold body. My last gaze, before dying, was towards the incubator in the distance in the hospital room. That was my daughter, my mother’s granddaughter. It was a stillborn baby, dead for a long time. That’s good, daughter. It’s good that you died. You don’t have to suffer in this unfortunate world like your mother did. My soul murmured to itself. My mother Catherine’s Angel’s Wings Foundation was quite famous in our city. For nearly a decade, it had been dedicated to helping underprivileged children from the rural parts of our city, enabling them to study, providing them with shelter, and even giving them the warmth of a home. She was known as a “great philanthropist,” a “living saint” by the city’s populace. To the underprivileged children, she was “Angel,” “Mama Catherine.” She could give selfless love to every child who needed it. But that didn’t include me. I was the one detested by the “angel.” Simply because half the blood flowing in my veins belonged to an alcoholic. 2: Your Angel, My Devil According to my grandma, when my mother was young, she too had been rebellious and made many mistakes. The biggest mistake was falling in love with my dad. When she met him, she fell for his handsome face and sweet talk. But it wasn’t until after she married him that she realized the other side of this man was an alcoholic who didn’t recognize anyone when he was drunk. She couldn’t stand his domestic abuse after he drank and asked for a divorce. But to keep my mother tied to him, my dad secretly replaced her birth control pills with vitamin tablets. And so, I was born into this world. After I was born, they finally divorced. The court awarded custody of me to my mother. But my mother didn’t like me, or rather, she detested me. She detested my sharp eyes and defined brows, so much like my father’s, to the point that seeing me reminded her of the days she had suffered. Ever since the divorce, she rarely cared for me. With the settlement money from my dad and her connections, she founded the Angel’s Wings Foundation and was never home. She never seemed to see me as her beloved daughter, but rather as a tool sent by my father to torment her, an instrument. So, naturally, she didn’t need to consider my feelings. So even when I started self-harming and even attempting suicide due to severe psychological issues, she didn’t care at all, and was even ashamed of it. I still remember that day. I was soaking in the bathtub, a cut on my arm gradually going numb. My consciousness, along with my blood, began to dissipate into the water. She came in. Vaguely, I thought an angel had come to save me. But the first thing this “angel” did was pull me out of the water and give me a resounding slap. “You dare to die? You owe me so much, and you still dare to die?!” “You coward! Why did I ever give birth to you!” “Get your ass to the hospital, now!” A few crisp bills were thrown in my face. I don’t know how thirteen-year-old me walked to the hospital alone that year. I know I was soaking wet, clutching my bleeding arm, still holding the few hundred bucks my mother had given me, walking endlessly, endlessly. Until I completely lost consciousness. And collapsed on the side of the road. Before completely losing consciousness, I heard the “wee-woo, wee-woo” of an ambulance. Before I died, I donated my corneas and other usable organs to my mother’s Angel’s Wings Foundation. She used to always say I owed her from birth, but I never knew what exactly I owed her. This way was good too. At least, by giving her back my body in the end, I probably didn’t owe her anything anymore. I still remember the disbelieving look in the eyes of the medical staff when I signed the organ donation agreement. “There are very few brave girls like you.” “Your family will surely be proud of you.” Would my mom be proud of me? That was something I didn’t even dare to dream about. When I was little, to win my mother’s affection, to make her proud, I studied desperately hard. My childhood had no video games, no cute dresses, no orange soda. Only countless, endless exams. Of course, getting straight A’s and being top of my class every time was natural. I used to always see classmates at the school gate who scored lower than me showing off their papers to their parents, even if they’d only improved a little. And those parents would often smile and pick them up, or hug and kiss them. That feeling of being cherished, of being protected, was what I yearned for. But whenever I ran to my mother with a perfect score, how I wished she could encourage me like other mothers, praise me, tell me: “You did great.” At least just hug me. But she never did. 3: Hailey “Liv, you get a perfect score and you have to come show off to me? You’re just like your father, a leopard can’t change its spots.” “You certainly inherited your father’s cunning mind. God knows if you cheated off someone or earned it yourself.” But when I slipped, even if I didn’t get first place just once, she would slap me right across the face. “You’ve been slacking off again! I never should have given birth to you! If it weren’t for your beast of a father, I wouldn’t have ended up with something like you!” “Liv, I’m telling you, you must study hard, study yourself to death, get into a top university, and then make money to support me well, understand! This is what you owe me by birth!” I owed my mother by birth; this was a phrase I had remembered since I was little. So when she brought her first sponsored child, Hailey, home, I didn’t dare say anything. My mother treated Hailey, or rather, she treated Hailey as her own daughter, while I seemed like someone who shouldn’t even exist. Everything I had, Hailey had. Things I never had, Hailey also had. Most importantly, she easily possessed what I had longed for my entire life but never obtained. My mother’s love. When my corneas and eardrums were sent to the Angel’s Wings Foundation, my mother was helping Hailey pick out a gift for her nineteenth birthday. “Mama Catherine, I want this big one…” Hailey pointed to the largest crystal necklace in the jewelry store display case, cooing and clinging to my mother’s arm. “Hailey! This is too expensive,” my mother said, feigning displeasure. “But you clearly said that if I got into college, you’d give me the best birthday present!” “But you’re still a scholarship student. If you wear this to school, your classmates will talk.” “Let them talk. I’m not Liv, falling apart over a little pressure and wanting to die.” Hailey’s face twisted into a sneer when she thought of me. Just then, my mother’s phone rang. Someone from the foundation told her a new batch of donated organs had arrived. After hanging up, my mother patted Hailey’s head. “Hailey, Mommy has to go. Take a cab home by yourself.” “But the gift…” Hailey pouted. My mother said to the salesclerk, “This one, wrap it up.” “Thank you, Mama Catherine!” Hailey jumped up excitedly. After my mother left, she immediately took out her latest iPhone and started taking pictures of the necklace, then posted them on her social media with a caption. “Nineteenth birthday! Spending it with my dearest Mama Catherine! P.S.: With such a wonderful Mama Catherine, what kind of trash person would she actually hate?” She might as well have named me directly. She had always liked to ostracize and mock me. Simply because I was her Mama Catherine’s biological daughter, in name. She had all of my mother’s love, so she naturally felt my existence was a mistake. She knew I had once wanted to end my life through suicide, so she often used it to ridicule me. “Liv, you might as well just die. Your death would be good for everyone, wouldn’t it?” That’s what she often said to me. This time was no exception. She sent me a private message, hoping to mock me with it. She knew Catherine never remembered my birthday, so I never had such a thing as a birthday gift. She waited a long time but didn’t get my reply. So she became agitated and sent another one. “Dead? Struck dumb? Or secretly wiping away tears?” She didn’t know that I had indeed died, just as she wished. But she didn’t know that even if I died, she couldn’t monopolize her Mama Catherine. Because I still remembered everything she had done to me. 4 She sent me a private message, hoping to mock me with it. She knew Catherine never remembered my birthday, so I never had such a thing as a birthday gift. She waited a long time but didn’t get my reply. So she became agitated and sent another one. “Dead? Struck dumb? Or secretly wiping away tears?” She didn’t know that I had indeed died, just as she wished. But she didn’t know that even if I died, she couldn’t monopolize her Mama Catherine. Because I still remembered everything she had done to me. When I was sixteen, something happened that I could never forget for the rest of my life. Yesterday, when my mother came home, she brought two cakes, one large and one small. The large one was for Hailey, and then, unexpectedly, she gave me one. Albeit the smaller one. I was overwhelmed by the unexpected gesture. Because this had never happened before. When my mother came home from work, she only ever brought snacks and gifts for Hailey. Ever since I attempted suicide at fourteen, my mother’s attitude towards me had become even colder; she practically treated me like a stranger. Because my actions had shamed her. Catherine, the founder of the Angel’s Wings charity, couldn’t even manage her own daughter, who had attempted suicide – such gossip made her feel extremely ashamed. So she simply claimed to the public that I wasn’t her biological daughter, just a little girl she had previously sponsored who had some mental issues and was slowly recovering with her help. That’s how she weathered that PR crisis. After that, she truly didn’t see me as her daughter, or even as a human being. She said if I wanted to die, I should wait until I was an adult, earned money to support her in her old age, and then die. I wasn’t qualified to die yet. But today was different. It seemed like things at work had gone smoothly, and she actually showed me some mercy and bought me a cake too. Hailey looked at me with eyes full of jealousy. Even me getting the smaller one wasn’t okay. I probably didn’t deserve to receive gifts at all. So, the next day, after evening study, on my way home, I was stopped by a group of thuggish-looking youths. “You Liv?” I nodded fearfully, looking around, and found that there was no one else on this road. “I’ll ask you again, are you Catherine’s daughter, Liv?” Before I could finish answering, they dragged me into a narrow alley. What followed was something I never wanted to recall for the rest of my life. I only remember screaming, shouting in extreme terror. At the end of the alley, a familiar figure seemed to appear. She seemed to be laughing, that “hee hee hee” laugh was so familiar. That night, my body, along with my heart, plunged into darkness. … After that, I told my mother. Unsurprisingly, what I got was another resounding slap. “Liv, you’re really something, aren’t you? Haven’t you embarrassed me enough!” My mother was so angry her hair was practically standing on end. Beside her, Hailey sneered: “Who knows if she was just messing around outside and then said she was forced. After all, for someone like her who doesn’t even care about her own life, nothing she does is surprising.” My mother told me she couldn’t afford this shame. If I dared to call the police, she would immediately sever our mother-daughter relationship. So, a month later, I was pregnant. This time, I was smarter; I didn’t tell my mother. Instead, using money I earned from a summer job, I found a private clinic and had an abortion. The cold touch of the speculum, and the excruciating pain of the D&C afterwards – even as a soul, the memory made me shiver. I thought I had hidden it well enough, but Hailey still found out. She told my mother, and my mother locked me in my room for a month. She said, “Don’t you just love messing around! Go ahead and mess around all you want in your room!” A month later, when I was let out of the room, the first thing my mother told me was: “Liv, stop your schooling. I’ve already arranged your marriage.” “After you turn eighteen, you’ll marry Sean, the real estate developer from this city.” … When my mother arrived at the Angel’s Wings Foundation headquarters, my retinas and other usable organs had already arrived. Several staff members looked solemn. “Ms. Catherine, you’re here.” “Yes. Are these organs usable? If so, keep them. We’ll hold a bid later and give them to the child who needs them most.” “Well, yes, but the donor also left a diary, saying it must be read by you to the recipient before the donation.” A staff member handed over my diary.

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My mother was Her Grace, the Duchess, a woman of legendary beauty in her day, the King’s own sister. My father was the Duke, a man renowned for both his strategic genius and his prowess on the battlefield. Yet, though I was their legitimate daughter, my two older brothers doted on a mere servant girl, Willow Creston, to the point of obsession. To win her favor, they even allowed her to masquerade in my place. At the Spring Gala, Willow snatched the crystal scepter—a royal gift from the King meant for the Duke’s true daughter—and announced loudly, “If it weren’t for the kindness of your brothers, Ethan and Liam, letting me bring you along to see the world, when would you ever get to lay eyes on a treasure bestowed by His Majesty?” “Even though you’re just a lowly maid,” she’d lectured me, “every word and action of yours reflects on the Duke’s household.” In my previous life, I’d been cowed by my brothers’ threats, too timid to speak. But I’ve been reborn. Watching Willow’s insufferable arrogance, I strode forward, snatched the crystal scepter from her hands, and slapped her so hard she sprawled on the floor. “Who in the hell do you think you are, acting so brazenly before me? You dare to lay your filthy hands on a gift from my own uncle, the King!” No one expected such audacity from me. As shock rippled through the guests, I calmly instructed the head housekeeper, Mrs. Gable, to secure the scepter. Mrs. Gable shot me a hesitant, conflicted look, then, trembling, started to offer the scepter back to the furious Willow. “M-Miss,” she stammered, “perhaps it’s best if you return the scepter to the young lady…” I settled myself in the seat of honor, a faint smile playing on my lips. “‘Miss’? I am Annelise Thorne, the Duke’s legitimate daughter. In private, I might let ‘Miss’ slide. But out here, in public, what should you be calling me?” Mrs. Gable trembled, her eyes darting towards Willow, who was scrambling up from the floor, face contorted with rage. Before she could utter another word, I stepped forward and kicked the old crone, sending her tumbling. “Since you can’t tell master from servant, perhaps we should just sell you off.” In my past life, this old bat, emboldened by my brothers’ favor towards Willow, had made my life hell. She hadn’t just skimped on my food and clothing; after helping Willow drive me to my death, she’d stripped me bare and thrown my body into a filthy pigsty. Hearing my words, Mrs. Gable forgot all about Willow. Clutching the scepter, she scrambled to kneel beside me, begging, “It was this old servant’s transgression! Please, My Lady, have mercy!” “Annelise, dear, why must you make things so hard for the staff?” Willow’s voice, usually as sweet as a songbird, now trembled as if she were terrified of me. She looked so pitiful, on the verge of tears, a picture of wronged innocence. Many onlookers, seeing her distress, frowned in my direction. Elara Vance, daughter of General Vance and a close friend of Willow’s, was incandescent with rage. She stormed up to me, jabbing a finger in my face. “You! You worthless servant girl! How dare you act so insolently in front of Willow, the true daughter of House Thorne! You must have a death wish!” “Everyone knows how much the Duke and Duchess cherish their only daughter. Looks like someone’s about to meet a nasty end.” “I heard this servant girl was dragged in from some backwater village. Always scheming to climb the social ladder. Seems the rumors were true; she’s utterly uncouth.” When I was first brought back to the estate, I was still adjusting. My brothers, seeing my timidity, were ashamed to present me in society. That’s how all sorts of nasty rumors about me started, none of them flattering. Reborn, I finally understood. I was Annelise Thorne, legitimate daughter of a Duke, niece to the King himself—a lady of the highest nobility, precious and esteemed. Why should I be overshadowed by Willow, a genuine servant, and those two sycophants my parents had taken in, born from a lesser branch? The thought sharpened my gaze like a blade as I fixed it on Elara Vance. “And who, pray tell, are you? The daughter of a mere Brigadier General, daring to meddle in the affairs of my Duke’s household! I doubt even General Vance himself would dare speak to me so rudely!” Elara clearly hadn’t expected me to talk back so publicly. Her face flushed crimson. She lunged, hand raised to strike, but I deftly dodged and landed a stinging slap across her own cheek. “You—a servant—you dare hit me? I am a General’s daughter!” she shrieked in disbelief. The surrounding young ladies gasped. Willow clutched her chest, looking faint with fury. She snarled at the servants cowering nearby, “This girl has lost her mind! Tie her up and throw her in the woodshed, now!” I swept my gaze over the few footmen who, ropes in hand, were hesitantly approaching. A dangerous glint entered my eyes. “I am the Duchess’s own daughter. Even if you’re household servants born and bred to House Thorne, you dare lay hands on me?” Willow’s expression froze. A flicker of panic crossed her face, quickly masked by a forced sneer. “What utter nonsense are you spouting! Everyone in the capital knows you, Annelise Thorne, are just the girl who empties the chamber pots for the Duke’s household!” The others clearly didn’t believe me. “Willow’s right. She really has gone mad.” “The Duchess has spent years in seclusion at Mount Serene, deep in prayer for the well-being of her only daughter, and this shameless creature has the audacity to impersonate her.” Unperturbed, I instructed my personal maid, Summer, who stood beside me, “Go tell my eldest brother and second brother that this Spring Gala seems to be over.” Summer looked at me, her expression torn. My brothers doted on Willow; if they knew I’d humiliated her, they wouldn’t let me off easy. Seeing my nod, she hurried out, her face still etched with worry. Willow, however, couldn’t have been more pleased. She tilted her chin smugly. “If Ethan and Liam knew what you’ve done today, they’d never forgive you.” In my past life, the brothers I’d admired since childhood had stood by and watched Willow bully me, watched her steal my identity. In the end, they’d thrown me into a den of beggars. As filthy hands tormented me, I’d screamed for my brothers to save me. But they’d merely said my cries were frightening their dear sister Willow. They had my tongue cut out. When I died, there wasn’t an unblemished patch of skin on my body. Now, I’ve clawed my way back from hell. Let’s see who won’t forgive whom. 2 It wasn’t long before Summer rushed back in, her face etched with guilt. Head bowed, she said, her voice tinged with pity, “My Lady, the Young Lord Ethan and Master Liam are having tea. They said your… minor issues… shouldn’t disturb them, and that everything should be handled according to Miss Willow’s wishes.” Of course. No matter how cruelly I was treated, in their eyes, it was just a “minor issue,” not worth their attention. Willow let out a snort of laughter. “See? You even made her run around for nothing…” Before she could finish, someone else stormed into the room. It was Preston Miles, my fiancé, the legitimate son of the High General’s household. Summer, thinking he was here to help me, brightened instantly. I just gave a small, wry shake of my head. When we were children, he’d trailed after me like a puppy, begging me to marry him when we grew up. He’d pestered his father to formally propose and exchange tokens of betrothal. But ever since he’d laid eyes on Willow, he’d become utterly bewitched by her, even helping her humiliate me. Preston anxiously scanned Willow from head to toe, as if terrified she’d lost a single strand of hair. Then, he turned to me, his face a mask of disgust. “A wretched servant girl! I can’t believe I was fooled by you, actually thinking you were the high-born lady of House Thorne. Thank goodness the Young Lord Ethan set me straight. If I had actually married you…” “The Miles family would have become a laughingstock for the entire kingdom!” My own fiancé was adamantly denying my identity. This instantly changed the expressions of those who had harbored even a sliver of belief in my true status. The unfolding drama captivated the onlookers. Curious eyes darted between us, and the smirk on Willow’s face grew more pronounced. To further champion Willow, Preston’s expression hardened. He ripped the engagement locket from his neck. “Here’s your token back! Someone as lowborn as you should find a stablehand or a night watchman to marry!” Seeing Preston’s resolute determination, I remembered how, in my past life, after my death, the King had been furious. Preston had knelt before my uncle, the King, weeping uncontrollably, swearing he had always loved me, that he’d only been deceived by villains into his foolish actions. It was so laughable, I couldn’t help but chuckle. Preston’s face darkened. “What are you laughing at?” “I’m laughing at how blind you are, mistaking a fish eye for a pearl. Breaking off our engagement for a real servant girl. I wonder what your father, the old General, will say when he finds out.” A collective gasp went through the crowd at my words. “Willow Creston is the actual servant?” “But why would the Young Lord Ethan claim she’s his sister?” Murmurs erupted, all eyes fixated on Willow and me. I stood there, unadorned by makeup, yet my natural elegance and noble bearing were undeniable. She, in contrast, though dressed in finery, couldn’t hide the cunning in her eyes, the inherent vulgarity, the air of a clumsy imposter. Willow’s face turned pale. She bit her lip and hastily retorted, “If you’re really the high-born lady, why does no one here recognize you? You can’t just make up lies because you’re jealous that Preston cares for me!” Preston scoffed. “Willow has been too kind to expose your true identity, and now you have the gall to turn things around and accuse her!” Their words quickly swayed the onlookers. Elara Vance, who had just been humiliated, suddenly found her courage again. “She’s just a servant! Even if we beat you to death today, no one would stand up for you! I’ll teach you a lesson on Willow’s behalf!” Several other young ladies, not wanting to be left out, ordered their maids to restrain me. One of them kicked me to my knees. “Let’s teach her how to apologize properly,” one sneered, then forcefully shoved my head down, again and again, until blood stained the ground. Preston pulled Willow behind him. “It’s too vile. Don’t let it dirty your eyes.” Willow smirked triumphantly. “I told you not to cross me, but you wouldn’t listen. Who do you think you are to have a say in this household?” I tilted my head back defiantly, glaring at her. “My mother will be back soon! And when she is, none of you will get away with this!” My Coming-of-Age Ball was just after the Spring Gala. My mother was returning to preside over it, and my uncle, the King, was to officially grant me the title of Countess on that day. That was why all these people were scrambling to curry favor with House Thorne. In my previous life, however, I never made it to my Coming-of-Age Ball. Willow framed me, and I died without ever seeing my mother again. Willow leaned down, her voice a derisive whisper in my ear, “You’re so naive. The Miles family commands vast armies. Once I marry into their family, who would dare touch me?” The memory of how my constant yielding in my past life had only led to a horrific death fueled my resolve. This time, I wouldn’t let her escape. 3 I struggled fiercely, trying to pull out a hairpin to defend myself, but before I could, a furious voice boomed, “Preposterous!” My two brothers, Ethan and Liam, strode into the room, and my attackers hastily released me. A flicker of panic crossed Willow’s face, but she quickly composed herself and, smiling, took Liam’s arm. My second brother looked at her with doting affection. Ethan, my eldest brother and the Heir, shot her a concerned glance before turning his disgusted gaze upon my disheveled form. He rebuked me publicly, “A vulgar, worthless wench! Daring to disrespect your betters! Can’t you learn to behave with some of Willow’s grace and poise? Then maybe you could find a decent man to marry you off to.” In my past life, my brothers had said such things countless times. Desperate for their approval, I had tried to emulate Willow, only for them to mock me as a clumsy copycat. I finally understood: those who don’t care about you will never see your efforts, no matter how hard you try. At this thought, a cold smile touched my lips. “Learn from Willow? You mean her fake sentimentality? Or perhaps her talent for being an imposter?” Fearing they’d be implicated, the gaggle of noble girls all started chattering at once, heaping all the blame on me. “She even dares to contradict the Young Lord Ethan! No wonder she bullies poor Willow.” “Yes, just now she was not only rude to Willow but also tried to steal the royal gift! If we hadn’t protected Willow, who knows what outrageous thing she might have done.” Preston Miles stepped forward, his voice filled with righteous indignation. “This country bumpkin isn’t fit to touch a single hair on Willow’s head! Today, in front of the Young Lord Ethan, I formally break off our engagement!” My second brother, Liam, looked deeply apologetic. “It’s all our fault. We failed to discipline this troublemaker. It’s a disgrace to both our families.” It seemed the alliance between House Thorne and the Miles family was shattered, all because of me. Ethan frowned. “House Thorne has no daughter who would bring such disgrace upon us. Willow Creston is my only sister.” Willow’s eyes widened in delighted surprise, then she lowered her head, sighing theatrically. “It was my mismanagement… allowing a mere servant to dream of taking another’s place. It’s my fault…” Her words tugged at the heartstrings of the three men. Preston immediately produced the marriage contract and dramatically tore it to shreds. He then took the engagement locket he’d snatched from me and reverently fastened it around Willow’s waist. He announced loudly, “Esteemed guests, today it has become abundantly clear who the true young lady of House Thorne is. I, Preston Miles, now formally ask for the hand of Miss Willow Creston in marriage!” Amidst a chorus of cheers and blessings, Willow shot me a triumphant, smug glance. I ignored her provocation. If she wanted such a fickle man, she was welcome to him. Seeing no trace of remorse in me, my second brother, Liam, turned to Ethan with a cruel suggestion. “Brother, today Annelise publicly disrespected her superiors and humiliated Willow. However, out of a sense of compassion, perhaps we should just marry her off to a stablehand and banish her to one of the rural estates.” Ethan seemed to hesitate. “If you publicly admit your mistake today and then spend the night kneeling in the family chapel, we’ll let this go.” The smile froze on Willow’s face. She said with feigned grievance, “It’s alright, brothers. You don’t need to be angry on my account. I don’t care about such empty titles.” Then, turning to me, she added, “But sister, no matter how willful you are, you shouldn’t disgrace the family name.” At her words, Ethan’s impatience became visible. “You still refuse to admit you’re wrong?” he demanded of me. Hah. These were the brothers I had admired since childhood. They hadn’t always enjoyed their current status and wealth. It was because I, as a child, loved to follow them around that my mother had formally adopted these sons from a lesser branch of the family under her name, even securing the title of Heir for Ethan early on. I stiffened my neck, wanting to slap myself for being so foolish, for wasting my genuine affection on such vipers. Ethan’s face was grim. He turned and ordered the servants, “Do as the Second Young Master said. Go to the stables, pick out a groom for her to marry, then throw her out onto a country estate. If she doesn’t admit her fault, she’s never to return.” I met Ethan’s gaze, my voice cold. “What right do you have to banish me? Even the head of the Thorne clan wouldn’t dare to strike my name from the family records!” Liam snorted. “Father and Mother aren’t here. As the Heir, Ethan naturally has the authority to manage household affairs.” Ethan announced solemnly, “The Duke has only ever had one daughter, Willow. Annelise Thorne has nothing to do with us.” Willow, beaming with triumph, instructed a servant, “This is all so sudden. Later, the family carriages will be needed to send our honored guests home. Just call for a common cart from outside the estate to send her away.” Just as they were about to drag me off—

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Two years into our marriage, my wife said I was a bad influence and had me locked up in a “Discipline Center.” During the year I was tortured, she spent every day by her old flame’s side. When I got out, my heart was dead. I asked for a divorce. Just like she wanted, I set her free. But what she didn’t know was that her precious old flame was only after her money. Without me, she’d be nothing. 1. I spent a whole year in that Discipline Center. The day I was released, I was in the laundry room, bleeding, still working, when one of the guards brought me the “good news.” A guard bellowed my name from behind. I immediately dropped, covered my head, and shouted, “Number 33, here!” By the time the guard dragged me by the collar to his office, I was shaking uncontrollably. The second he let go, I hit the floor and started doing push-ups. The guard yanked me up. “Stop that. You’re getting out.” Tears burst from my eyes. I bowed low, thanking him over and over. Before I left, the guard told me, his voice heavy, “We offered to let you out early if an extra six million was paid.” “But your wife refused. She even transferred another five million to us, telling us to intensify your ‘training.’ Don’t blame us…” His words hung in the air as I was changing. My hand froze mid-button. But I didn’t dare hesitate. Hesitation meant severe punishment. Every form of punishment in that place made me feel like I was staring death in the face. When I got out, Chloe wasn’t there. The housekeeper told me Chloe had arranged a welcome-home dinner. I called Chloe. Her familiar, impatient voice crackled through the phone. “The usual spot. Hurry up.” Then, a man’s voice, one I knew all too well – Liam, Chloe’s old flame. “So, the wimp is out. We’ll have to make him drink a few extra tonight.” Chloe hung up before I could even say “okay.” Her usual bossy attitude plunged my heart into a frozen silence. After all this time, a year in that hellhole, and Liam was still the one by her side. I wasn’t surprised. Liam’s place in Chloe’s heart was untouchable. Ever since Liam divorced and came back three years ago, all he had to do was crook his finger, and Chloe would drop everything and run to him. Liam was built, always whispering in Chloe’s ear how a strong gust of wind could blow my scrawny self away. That’s where “wimp” came from. Chloe, instead of stopping him, would chime in, “He really does. He doesn’t make me feel protected at all.” In the car, the butler kindly handed me a cup of warm water. It was an old habit of mine; I liked to drink tea, warm, year-round. I took two sips. My nose stung, and my eyes welled up. A cup of warm water might not seem like much, but I hadn’t had a single sip of warm water for an entire year in that Center. Through all four seasons there, they not only rationed our water but only gave us ice-cold water. When I first got there, I asked a guard for some warm water. They threw me into a damp, cold isolation cell for two whole days and nights. We had daily labor quotas. In the dead of winter, we had to wash the guards’ clothes. Every single stain had to be scrubbed out, or you’d get a beating in solitary. My hands became raw and infected countless times, but no one treated them. In the Discipline Center, you weren’t allowed medical attention unless you were on your last breath. When I was first beaten so badly my whole body was a mess of open wounds, I lay on the floor, in so much pain I was paralyzed, begging the guard to call a doctor. He just sneered, kicked me a couple of times, and asked, “Do you think you deserve it?” Dignity was a luxury there. No matter how much the guards cursed at you, you had to take it. We were treated like livestock, no days off, all year round. Every day, from 6:30 AM to 11:00 PM, we worked. The guards graded us daily. If you got a ‘D,’ there was no dinner that night. You’d also be taken to the punishment room. Minor offenses meant whipping or caning; major ones meant electric shocks or other brutal forms of discipline. What went on in the Discipline Center was the complete opposite of what they advertised. Watching the steam rise from the cup, my eyes reddened again, an involuntary reaction. I remembered the smell of my own burnt flesh after they’d used the electric prods on me. A few times, I’d questioned the guards’ “professionalism” when my day’s work was rated ‘D’. Without a word, they’d drag me to the punishment room. High-voltage current shot through my body, my brain instantly shutting down, leaving me in a puddle of my own waste. But the acrid smell of burnt skin filled my nostrils. The guard, eyes bloodshot, would grab my chin and hiss, “Next time, will you dare?” By then, my body would be numb, unable to force a single word past my lips. But to them, that just meant I was a born troublemaker. They’d strap me to the chair again, replaying the whole ordeal. They wouldn’t stop until I passed out. The guards’ vicious words echoed in my mind, making me shudder violently. The butler, startled, asked, “Sir, am I driving too fast?” I shook my head. “No, it was my fault.” I had to force myself to sit upright, away from the seatback, because my back was covered in wounds. 2. Every time the car braked, my back would inevitably touch the seat, even if just a little. Soon, large beads of sweat were forming on my forehead. The butler kept glancing at me in the rearview mirror, eventually apologizing again. “Sir, has my driving gotten worse?” he asked, his face etched with worry. I had to straighten my spine again, forcing a smile. “It’s not you.” He’d been with me for years; he knew my habits. I used to always recline the seat, half-lying down. My back was a mess of new and old injuries, barely a patch of undamaged skin. The lashing I’d received a few days ago had already started to fester. When I left the Discipline Center, the guards confiscated all my light-colored clothes. After picking through everything, they only gave me this black shirt. I knew black would hide all the marks on my body. As long as I was out, they figured, it was no longer their problem. The thought made me tremble uncontrollably. “We punish you to make you learn your lesson.” “From now on, your wife’s word is law.” I clutched the hem of my shirt, trying to calm myself. “Punishment is to make you remember. You are not to argue when your wife gives an order.” The image of guards whipping me with leather straps dipped in chili water flashed in my mind. Every night in the Discipline Center, screams echoed through the halls. Whipping was the most common punishment. Each time, I’d bite my lip until I tasted blood to keep from crying out. If you made a sound, the guards would double the punishment. One round of whipping could take half your life; I really didn’t want to go through it again. After being punished, you had to crouch in a corner, enduring the full-body pain, and “reflect.” You couldn’t leave until a guard gave you permission. If a guard thought your wounds needed disinfecting, they’d toss you a plastic bag. Inside were basic disinfectant supplies. You’d have to squat in a dark, damp basement, gritting your teeth, tears streaming down your face, and tend to your wounds yourself. 3. The nightmarish memories came to an abrupt halt when the butler announced, “We’re here.” “The usual spot” was a restaurant Chloe had invested in for Liam. After Liam’s divorce, Chloe, feeling sorry for him, bought the restaurant outright and gave it to him as a birthday present. As I approached Private Room 999, the door was slightly ajar. Laughter spilled out even before I opened it. Chloe was leaning on Liam’s shoulder, smiling, acting cute. Her face was flushed. It struck me then: they were the ones who looked like a couple. Liam caught sight of me out of the corner of his eye. He squeezed Chloe’s cheek. “Haven’t seen him in a year. Miss him?” Chloe buried her head in Liam’s arm. “Don’t you know if I miss him or not?” With that, I pushed the door open and chose a seat furthest from Chloe. “Long time no see,” I said quietly. When Chloe looked at me, she couldn’t hide the disgust in her expression. “We spent so much money sending you to learn some manners,” she said, her face full of displeasure, her disdainful gaze undisguised. “I don’t see any improvement at all.” “You look like a mess. Couldn’t you at least wash your face and tidy up before coming in?” I lowered my head, wiped my cheek, and mumbled, “My apologies. I wasn’t thinking.” As soon as I said it, both Liam and Chloe stared at me, their eyes wide, looking me up and down. It made my skin crawl. “What is it?” I asked, confused. Chloe whispered in Liam’s ear, “See? The money wasn’t a complete waste. Look at his attitude now, it’s a night and day difference.” Before the Discipline Center, I used to argue with Chloe frequently because of Liam. Chloe always said I had a bad temper, that I wouldn’t yield an inch. Liam looked at me with a smirk. “Of course, it had to have an effect. Can’t let all that money go to waste.” I thought about last New Year’s, six months ago. The guards said they could bend the rules, give us a chance to contact our families. If our families were willing to pay two million, they’d release us early, against the contract. I immediately called Chloe. But all I heard on the other end was Chloe’s panting. And Liam saying, “Chloe, you’re so tight…” Before I could finish speaking, she hung up. I lost my only chance to contact the outside world. Seeing me eating by myself, not saying a word. I don’t know if Liam wanted to test my “re-education,” but he leaned back in his chair, a cigarette dangling from his lips, and cupped Chloe’s face, kissing her deeply. When I showed no reaction, Liam did it again. My gaze dropped to the strawberry juice in front of me. I’ve been allergic to strawberries my whole life. When I was a kid, I accidentally ate two strawberries, and my heart stopped. I was rushed to the hospital and nearly died. Chloe and I had been married for so long. She remembered all of Liam’s preferences, but not mine. Faced with a normal meal after so long, I just ate, ignoring the scene across the table. Chloe gradually grew angrier. “Alex Sterling,” she snapped, “haven’t you ever had a full meal in your life? Look at yourself, you’re disgusting.” I didn’t care about her ridicule. I kept eating. The day Chloe had me dragged to the Discipline Center, my heart had already shattered into a million pieces. Now, I just wanted to live. 5. After I’d eaten my fill, I headed straight for the butler’s car. Surprisingly, Chloe walked over to my car, motioning for me to wait. She pulled a document out of her bag and handed it to me. “Liam wants to partner with you on that land parcel in the West End. Sign the contract.” During the year I was gone, Chloe made all the company decisions. But now that I was back, her word didn’t carry as much weight. Seeing I hadn’t taken the contract, Chloe glared at me. “Hurry up.” Her eyes were a warning: if I didn’t listen to her, she’d send me back to the Discipline Center. But she didn’t know that while I was in the restroom at the restaurant, I’d called my friend, Leo Maxwell. He’s a top lawyer in the country. I remember before we graduated college, he joked, “If you ever get divorced, call me. I’ll give you half price.” At the time, I told him firmly, “That day will never come.” I never thought it would come true. I refused Chloe and told the butler to drive off, leaving her standing there. The next morning, Chloe came home looking exhausted. The moment she walked in, she yelled, “Alex! Come change my shoes.” Chloe was a clean freak. Every time she came home, she had to change from head to toe. And when she was in a bad mood, she liked to order me around. Before, I was afraid of upsetting her, so I did whatever she wanted. But now, I wasn’t willing anymore. I rubbed my sleepy eyes and slowly walked downstairs. Seeing how slow I was, Chloe got so angry she threw her bag at my face. “Alex, are you doing this on purpose? Can’t you hear me when I talk to you?” “You just got back and you’re already this useless. It’s disgusting to look at you.” I stared at the pink mark on Chloe’s neck, lost in thought. Chloe quickly adjusted her collar. “It’s a mosquito bite.” “You know I have sensitive skin; this happens all the time.” Thinking back, over the past three years, these kinds of marks had appeared on Chloe’s neck or chest quite a few times. I’d asked her about them several times, and her answer was always mosquito bites. Twice, it was in the dead of winter. I racked my brain but couldn’t figure out what kind of mosquito it could be. I slowly sat down and pulled out the divorce papers from under the coffee table. Leo was fast. He’d contacted me in the middle of the night to say the divorce agreement was ready. Chloe’s face was a mask of shock. “What is the meaning of this?” “I just asked you to give Liam a little piece of the pie, and this is how you react?” Then, furious, she ripped the divorce papers to shreds. I looked at her, my face cold. “Divorcing you is something I’ve thought long and hard about.” Chloe laughed. “Long and hard? Have you lost your mind?” “You know what you promised me!” When I proposed to Chloe, I did promise her that it would be just the two of us, for life, and that I would love her forever. But loving her forever didn’t mean I could accept her cheating. She crossed her arms, calm and composed, as if she was certain I wouldn’t really divorce her. Just then, the doorbell rang. Liam appeared at my door, with a neck half-covered in hickeys.

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On my wedding day, my fiancée showed no regard for my dignity. In front of everyone, she laid out nine house rules that left me completely humiliated. Under the gaze of all those guests, I could only swallow my anger. Who knew that strictly adhering to these rules would lead to me being schemed against and killed? And on the third day of her vigil after my death, my wife, clutching my hefty insurance payout and vast fortune, couldn’t wait to remarry. Only later did I find out she’d had someone else in her heart all along. Those nine house rules were just a ploy to get their hands on my wealth. In a daze, I was back at the wedding day, faced once again with the moral blackmail of those nine house rules. But this time, I scoffed, then turned and married the bridesmaid. 01 “If you want to marry my sister, you have to follow our Shaw family’s nine house rules.” “Not following them means you’re disrespecting my sister!” The voice of my brother-in-law, Brandon, echoed in my ears. Coming to, I realized I had escaped the hell of excruciating pain from shattered bones. I was shocked to find myself back on this very day. In my past life, my wife’s nine house rules made me a laughingstock. I was guilt-tripped, becoming the prime sucker in their joint scheme. She’d dangled the marriage certificate as a condition, stringing me along. Until, at the wedding ceremony, I was completely ensnared by her nine house rules. One of them was— The wife can share all family assets with the husband and has the right to make decisions on the husband’s behalf. Not long after the wedding, I ended up in the hospital for a minor stomach issue. My entire fortune was swindled by my wife. Including the company’s finances, which she secretly transferred to her account in my name. To abide by these house rules, I was ridiculed by numerous business partners, and my company’s reputation plummeted. It wasn’t until my liquid assets were completely drained by her and my brother-in-law working together that I realized I’d been thoroughly conned. She frantically took out loans in my name to set Brandon up with properties. Because of this, I was saddled with billions in debt. Crushed by overwhelming pressure, I eventually jumped to my death from a building. I didn’t even get a gravestone. Under the watch of friends and family— My wife put on a show of mourning me for three days, only to spit viciously on my urn. And my brother-in-law, Brandon, even scattered my ashes for fun. 02 “Oh, Alex will definitely agree to follow these rules.” Before I could even react, my wife, Lily, was already smoothing things over for me. Lily Shaw said with a smile: “After all, he chased me for five years. What condition hasn’t he agreed to for me?” “He checked in on me every single day; my heart isn’t made of stone.” My brother-in-law scoffed, “I doubt it.” Then Brandon looked at me provocatively. Returning to this day, I suddenly understood. Lily wasn’t giving me an out, was she? Those two were clearly playing good cop, bad cop, forcing my hand! A dead silence fell, and I was once again surrounded by disdainful, contemptuous gazes. Just like in my previous life, I was utterly humiliated, trapped in a quagmire with no escape. Suddenly, the bridesmaid, Mia Lin, cautiously interjected, “Lily, no matter what, this is a bit too much.” “Aren’t these nine house rules a little too unfair to Mr. Chen?” My gaze shifted to Mia, and I couldn’t help but be startled. In that grand wedding hall, no one had dared to say a word against those grossly unfair nine house rules. Only Mia had mustered the courage to voice her dissent, only to be angrily shut down by my ungrateful self. Afterward, because of that one statement— She was brutally assaulted and humiliated by Brandon, had her hair pulled and face slapped by Lily, and was then cyberbullied online. I had been completely oblivious. Even now, I can still recall hearing her desperate cries for help from the next room on that day. But Lily had kept me outside the door, completely unaware that a girl was suffering such an insult at my wedding. So much so that later, when Lily cyberbullied her, branding her a homewrecker and a slut, she jumped from the rooftop of a 20-story building. Ending her life in its prime. No one ever knew that I insisted on marrying Lily Shaw to repay the girl who, when my family had fallen on hard times, had secretly funded my way through college. Only after Mia Lin’s death. Did I realize that she was the one who had given me aid back then, the secret crush I had longed for. Unfortunately, Lily had usurped her place, deceiving me for so many years. 03 Hearing Mia’s words, the siblings exchanged a look. The disgusting meaning in their eyes was unmistakable. I clenched my fists, rage and hatred boiling within me. This life, I absolutely would not let her, or myself, pay such a price as in the past. Seeing Brandon secretly signaling Lily, the tragedy of my past life was about to repeat itself. I immediately interrupted: “Lily’s right, I’ll definitely abide by these nine house rules.” “I’ve pursued Lily for so many years; everyone has witnessed my feelings for her.” At these words, the surrounding atmosphere relaxed. I secretly smirked: Heh, since my feelings for her are sincere and unwavering. Then if the wedding is canceled, it must be her fault. And it has to be a massive scandal. Today, I will ruin the reputations of the Shaw siblings! Looking at Lily’s smug face, I scoffed. You like scheming, don’t you? This life, I’ll give you a taste of your own medicine. Many of the wedding guests exchanged glances, their eyes filled with disdain and contempt. Anyone who had seen the nine house rules knew that if I really married Lily Shaw, I’d basically be her doormat. But what they didn’t know was—what kind of a huge drama was about to unfold today. As I gave them an out, the siblings’ plan succeeded, and their expressions brightened considerably. Mia Lin had escaped a terrible fate. This wedding, I was going to thoroughly expose Lily Shaw’s true colors. As for my dear brother-in-law, Brandon Shaw, I had no intention of letting him off the hook either. 04 With me smoothing things over, the atmosphere instantly became harmonious. Many of my good friends privately pulled at my sleeve, advising: “Are you crazy? Haven’t you simped for her enough? Now you want to be her grandson?!” “Don’t you know Lily Shaw is famously obsessed with spoiling her brother!” I smiled and reassured them. How could I not know? Having experienced the humiliation of my past life, I knew all too well. In my previous life, my financial power was completely controlled by Lily. She hide me, bought Brandon a house and a car, and even the compensation money after Brandon got into trouble was paid by me. Whenever I mentioned it, Lily would say dismissively: “He’s practically your brother now. What’s wrong with buying your brother a few things?” “Why are you, as a brother-in-law, so stingy?” But Brandon was truly capable of endless wrongdoing. After Lily married me, he had a backer and became increasingly lawless, causing bigger and bigger troubles. My entire family fortune was spent on Brandon alone. I, a CEO, couldn’t even afford to pay for meals when dining out for business. It was utterly humiliating. Yet I couldn’t break the agreement; the siblings’ intentions were truly malicious. A video of me agreeing to the nine house rules on the wedding day was maliciously recorded and circulated online for three days. Ostensibly to prove my love for my wife, Lily. In reality, it became the leverage the siblings used against me later. If I didn’t abide by the house rules, I would be constantly accused and insulted by netizens. My company’s sales would plummet due to a lack of credibility, and its reputation would be severely damaged. 05 Looking at the disappointed faces of my friends and family, I smiled and shook my head. This life, I did abide by the nine house rules, and they did record it and post it online as proof. But what if the wedding doesn’t happen, and I just happen to occupy the moral high ground? A smirk involuntarily touched my lips. Who wins or loses this round isn’t certain yet. This life, I will make you siblings lose everything and be despised by all. Seeing the wedding emcee take the stage, I smirked. It’s time. The words had barely left my lips when a heavily pregnant girl rushed onto the stage. She appeared suddenly from behind a screen. No one reacted in time. By the time they did, the girl had already snatched the microphone from the emcee. The host, flustered and confused, looked at me for a cue. I remained impassive, watching with amusement as she began to recount her tragic story. Lily and Brandon’s faces instantly turned deathly pale. “How did she get here?!” Brandon immediately rushed over, grabbing my collar, his face contorted with rage: “Get this bitch off the stage now!!” Lily’s expression was also very ugly: “Alex, are you just going to watch a stranger cause a scene at our wedding?” “This girl seems truly sincere; I’m afraid there really might be something to it,” I said, feigning difficulty. Watching their ugly expressions, I sneered inwardly. Of course, I was going to watch; after all, I was the one who brought her here. Brandon’s ex-girlfriend, a poor soul he had swindled out of money and taken advantage of. Just a little appetizer for the guests. There’s an even bigger surprise coming later. 06 “Damn it!” Seeing the girl lay out Brandon’s disgusting past misdeeds one by one, Brandon cursed but was helpless. I smirked triumphantly. He hadn’t forgotten that to use the nine house rules to control me— They had tampered with the wedding recording; it was being live-streamed to the entire internet. Meaning his so-called dark secrets were completely exposed to the public. For the moment, he couldn’t make a move. I opened my phone; sure enough, many netizens were furious: 【Damn, how can such a scumbag exist?!】 【Scammed her, used her, and then even got a bunch of thugs to assault her?! How can someone be this lawless?】 【Isn’t this an animal? Is this the so-called prestigious Shaw family?】 The girl was sincere and her story deeply tragic. The crowd’s emotions were instantly stirred. Seeing the guests looking at the Shaw siblings with increasingly ugly expressions, Lily, her face livid, immediately shouted: “Get her off the stage, now! This bitch is just slandering my brother!” I hadn’t even expected her to say more than a few words to defend Brandon. This idiot brought about his own destruction. The hot-tempered man snatched a wine bottle and violently hurled it at the frail, pregnant girl. Instantly, it caused public outrage: “Damn it! This animal! He’s trying to destroy the witness!” “He hit a nerve! It looks like what this girl said is all true!” I couldn’t react in time, only watching helplessly as the shattering wine bottle flew towards the girl. With that force, if it hit, it would undoubtedly be fatal or cause serious injury! Damn, miscalculated! I didn’t expect this idiot to lash out so desperately in public! My eyes were about to pop out of their sockets, while Brandon wore a smug, gloating smirk. As if he could already see the girl with her head bloodied. In a flash, Mia Lin tackled the girl to the ground, helping her dodge the blow. I breathed a sigh of relief. Indeed, no matter when, Mia was always that kind girl. At this moment, the wail of police sirens sounded from outside. Someone had called the cops. 07 Lily finally lost control of her expression; the sudden turn of events had disrupted all her plans. I saw Brandon’s face turn pale as he was about to flee. I immediately tripped him hard as he tried to run, and he face-planted spectacularly. He shattered his teeth, his face covered in blood. Lily, frustrated with his incompetence, slapped Brandon across the face: “Idiot! Hurry up and apologize to the young lady!” Then, forcing a smile, she turned: “Sorry, my brother is just hot-headed. His hand slipped just now.” “What the hell, does this woman take us for fools? Her expression changes faster than flipping a book!” Everyone present was an elite businessperson, and there were even many wealthy socialites. Brandon’s gloating face just now had been clearly seen by everyone. Someone even advised, “Mr. Liu, don’t go through with this marriage. I suspect this family is fraudulent.” My heart leaped with joy, but my face still wore a troubled expression. Watching the police arrive and take Brandon away, Lily immediately begged me: “Alex, you know, he’s my only brother. If he goes to jail, how will I, his sister, live?!” But any discerning person could see that Brandon had just attempted murder. If that bottle had connected, it would have been two lives lost. I looked at her pitiful, yet secretly scheming and vicious gaze. My memory flashed back to my previous life. Back then, controlled by public opinion, when the last of my family’s assets were squandered by Brandon, I finally let go of my last shred of dignity and pleaded with Lily: “Lily, our cars and houses have all been mortgaged. Give me a way out.” “Stop taking out loans in my name. I’m a person of some standing, after all.” “How do you think this makes me look to others?” Unexpectedly, that bitch sneered: “You deserve it. Who told you to be so incapable? You can’t even support me and Brandon after just a few short years.” “Useless! A spineless wimp like you didn’t deserve to marry me in the first place!” With that, her bright red high heels kicked me viciously in the abdomen, making me see black and my stomach cramp. The sharp heel even ground cruelly on my fingers: “Alright, don’t keep me from my beauty appointment. Get lost!” “Cry poor to me again, and I’ll post the video online!” 08 Brandon was eventually taken away by the police. As for how many years he’d get, that still required investigation. However, due to this incident, public attention was extremely high. He would undoubtedly have a very hard time in prison. Lily wasn’t flustered at all, still smugly threatening me. As if certain that I would do everything in my power to marry her. I looked at her confident face and couldn’t help but sneer. It was my mistake. I mistakenly believed she was the girl who had helped me back then. So I tried my utmost to please her, even debasing myself to suck up to her. Unexpectedly, by a strange twist of fate, I had been wrong about her all along. Which is why she was so confident now. Otherwise, the Shaw family, self-proclaimed high society but actually a fallen household— If they hadn’t married into my family, they probably wouldn’t even qualify to be noticed by the upper class. In my previous life, unaware of the truth, I probably would have exhausted myself trying to bail Brandon out. But this life— I couldn’t wait for these siblings to fall into hell, to experience the pain Mia and I suffered in our past lives. Looking at Lily’s unfazed, smug expression, I smirked. Still happy? Fool. Your turn is coming soon. 09 The wedding had become such a mess that it couldn’t proceed for the time being. Lily threw a fit: “If you don’t solve Brandon’s issue, don’t even think about marrying me today!” Mia, afraid I was in a difficult position, cautiously said, “Should I go talk to that girl?” Then Mia softly spoke well of me to Lily: “Lily, what Brandon did has already been exposed. In this situation, not even a miracle worker could get him out.” Her clear eyes looked at me with worry, a deep, hidden affection in them. Just like back then. I couldn’t help but feel a daze, mocking my own stupidity. It took a lifetime as the price to finally realize. Everything was explained. Only now did I understand the love in her eyes. If she didn’t like me, why would she have secretly funded me back then, helping me make a comeback? Facing two bastards who had bullied and oppressed her, she had mustered the courage to speak up for me. Unfortunately, she ended up paying such a tragic price. Remembering her desperate and sorrowful expression from my past life, I couldn’t help but clench my fists. Soon, Mia, soon. After I deal with Lily. This life, I will definitely make it up to you. 10 “I advise you to think of a way to get Brandon out right now.” “Otherwise, this wedding today, we might as well not have it.” Facing such a situation, she remained relentless and smug. She leaned close to my ear and said provocatively. I glanced at the time. It was time. Time to put an end to the tragedy of my past life. One second, Lily was still smugly waiting to see me rack my brains and look troubled for her. The next, her eyes bulged, and her face turned into a chaotic palette of colors. On the huge screen, a “spectacular” video was playing.

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On the night of our fourth wedding anniversary, Chloe broadcast a declaration of love for her high school sweetheart on the giant screens in Times Square. A full four-minute video, a montage of every photo they’d taken together from high school through college. All set to his favorite song lyric: “I said I want us to be together.” I texted her, “Wishing you two lovebirds all the best.” She graciously replied. “Don’t make a scene. He’s just having a bad day, and I only want to cheer him up.” I held up my phone, recorded every second of their saccharine memories, and blasted it to our mutual friends’ group chat. My caption: “Here’s to my wife and her old flame finally getting their happy ending.” It quickly blew up. Chloe, furious, logged into my account and deleted the post. Then she called, screaming, “Mark, are you even a man? I’m just looking after a sick friend, you know that! Did you have to drag this out for the whole world to see?” After she hung up on me, her precious Leo sent me a picture of them, a sweet, passionate kiss. The woman I’d sworn to love forever, betraying me so openly. This time, I wouldn’t get angry. I wouldn’t rush to confront her. I just wanted to get away from both of them, to find some peace for myself. Without a moment’s hesitation, I canceled the hotel room I’d booked for our anniversary that night and flew back home. The first thing I did after landing was call a divorce lawyer to draft the papers. Back at our house, I went straight to the wine cabinet, staring at the red wine we’d bottled ourselves when we got married. All that newlywed sweetness, apparently worth less to her than Leo, her first love, saying, “I’m having a bad day.” I popped the cork and chugged the wine straight from the bottle. It was sour, bitter. Awful. I poured the rest down the drain. It wasn’t like we’d ever be using it to celebrate an anniversary again. Everything in this house was tied to memories of me and Chloe. The wool rug in the living room was her favorite; we used to sit on it, side-by-side, watching movies. The lamp over the dining table was her pick too; she said it made food look more appetizing. Now, all these things just sat here, mocking my powerlessness against a cheating wife. I took them all down, piling them haphazardly in the hallway by the living room entrance. Only after doing all that did I finally go to the bedroom. Fifteen hours on a plane had exhausted me. I collapsed onto the bed and fell into a deep sleep. I didn’t wake up until the next afternoon, startled by the loud slam of Chloe opening the front door. “Mark, are you trying to tear our house apart?” I walked out of the bedroom, glanced at the mess on the floor without a word, and headed to the bathroom to freshen up. I thought witnessing her betrayal firsthand would shatter me. But last night, after Leo sent that picture of their kiss, something in me just… let go. I’d had some wine, slept soundly, and for the first time in ages, I hadn’t waited up for Chloe on the sofa. The feeling was surprisingly liberating. “I’m talking to you, didn’t you hear me?” I spat out a mouthful of toothpaste, mumbling, “You don’t even bother coming home anymore. Do you really care if I wreck the place?” Chloe’s face turned ugly. Unexpectedly, she rolled up her sleeves and actually started cleaning up the mess I’d made. When she found the ten empty wine bottles, her brow furrowed. “You drank all of this by yourself?” I didn’t feel like explaining, just nodded noncommittally. She was speechless with surprise, then a look of understanding, or misunderstanding, crossed her face. She thought I was drowning my sorrows. “You shouldn’t have just run off back home without a word. You didn’t even get your anniversary present.” She pulled a small, elegant black box from her purse and handed it to me. I opened it. Inside, a green and gold designer watch lay nestled on velvet. “You said you liked this brand, right? I brought it back specially from New York for you.” The old carrot-and-stick routine. This was Chloe’s classic move to appease me. I didn’t call her out on it. Just ten minutes ago, Leo had posted on social media. In the photo, Chloe, who knew nothing about men’s watches, was standing at a luxury counter, patiently picking out a gift. The next photo showed Leo’s wrist, sporting a similar watch from a different collection by the same brand. I knew. This watch of mine was probably his reject. While Chloe was busy with the pile of junk, I closed the gift box and casually tossed it, watch and all, into the trash can. Chloe turned around just in time to see me do it. “Mark! I picked that out especially for you! How could you!” She really thought a little lie would make me forgive everything. I told her, my face blank, “I’m not into that brand anymore.” “You… Fine. I’m tired, I don’t want to clean anymore. I’m going to bed. Get the housekeeper to deal with it.” I knew she’d wanted to say something much harsher. As she headed to the bedroom, her phone buzzed with a notification. She reflexively gestured for me to bring it to her. I glanced at the screen. It was from Leo. I read it out loud, “Chloe, I feel like the luckiest man in the world.” Chloe hadn’t expected me to mimic Leo’s deliberately saccharine tone, my voice low and syrupy. She exploded. She grabbed a glass wine bottle from the dining table and smashed it on the floor. “Mark, when are you going to stop? Are you some kind of masochist?” Shards of glass sliced across the top of my foot. A sharp sting. I stared at the blood welling up, taunting, “Isn’t that how Leo talks to you?” Chloe was squeamish about blood. She immediately grabbed the dining table for support, flustered, yelling at me, “Are you stupid? Didn’t you know to move? Don’t think this will make me feel sorry for you!” I ignored her and went to find the first-aid kit to bandage my foot. When I realized the bleeding wasn’t stopping, I wrapped it up quickly and prepared to go to the hospital. Seeing my injury was somewhat serious, Chloe said guiltily, “Let me take you to the hospital.” “No need,” I said coldly. After a few back-and-forths, she still followed me into the elevator going down. In the underground parking garage, Chloe offered to drive. Given my injured foot, I didn’t refuse. The moment I sat in the back seat, she questioned me with her usual displeasure, “Now what’s wrong with you? Why aren’t you sitting in the passenger seat?” I rolled down the window for some air. The truth was, the car reeked of Leo’s pine-scented cologne. Under Chloe’s dark gaze, I made up an excuse, “You’re squeamish about blood. I was worried you’d be uncomfortable driving.” This explanation seemed to calm her down a bit. “Oh, I accidentally spilled some perfume yesterday. The smell might be a little strong.” With that, she pulled a half-empty bottle of cologne from her bag and offered it to me. “I blended this myself. Since you didn’t like the other gift, take this. It’s a shame half of it spilled. If you don’t mind, please accept it.” More of Leo’s stuff. Did Chloe see me as some kind of beggar, always picking up Leo’s cast-offs? I didn’t want anything connected to Leo. I didn’t take it, refusing directly, “The blood’s about to get on the car seats. Can we please hurry to the hospital?” She’d been snubbed and fell silent. On the way, she kept glancing at me in the rearview mirror, looking like she wanted to say something but couldn’t, as if she had some difficult secret. I closed my eyes, pretending to rest. She finally couldn’t hold it in anymore, “My mom wants us to go over to her place for dinner tonight. Can you…” She was obviously worried I’d spill the beans about Leo being back in town. Since I’d already decided on a divorce, I didn’t want to complicate things further, especially not make it harder for my mother-in-law to deal with the truth. I nodded. Chloe visibly relaxed. The rest of the drive was unusually quiet. But this time, the silence didn’t feel awkward; it was almost comfortable. At the hospital, she hurriedly dropped me off at the emergency room and then practically fled. “I’ll go grab a bite to eat and be right back to keep you company!” “Once you’re done, we’ll go home together to see Mom.” There was a car accident victim in the ER, covered in blood. Chloe, with her aversion to it, couldn’t even get close. More than an hour passed after the doctor treated my wound, but Chloe still hadn’t returned. Just then, my phone buzzed. Leo had updated his social media, saying he had a stomachache from eating too much seafood, and “someone” was incredibly worried about him. The accompanying picture showed he was at this very hospital. Clearly, Chloe wouldn’t be accompanying me to her mom’s tonight. I didn’t want to face my mother-in-law’s pressure about having kids alone anyway, so I made an excuse and canceled the dinner. Leaving the hospital, having slept for a day straight without eating, a sharp pain twisted in my gut. My stomach churned. I leaned against a wall, dry heaving, cold sweat beading on my forehead. A doctor saw me and hurried over to ask if I was okay. I waved him off, thanking him, and forced myself to follow the signs towards the restroom. Just as I turned a corner, I heard Leo’s familiar voice, “Leo, you’re still the same, always making people worry. You overate and got indigestion, didn’t you!” “Chloe, I haven’t been back in the country for so long, and the seafood chowder you made was so delicious, I wanted to eat the whole bowl.” So, she’d been busy all afternoon making him chowder before coming home. Seeing them so intimate, I felt even more nauseous. Chloe was smiling radiantly, a tenderness she’d never shown me. “You still can’t eat like that. If you want it, I can make it for you anytime. Just don’t do this again, okay?” Leo saw me, then deliberately cupped Chloe’s face and kissed her hard. “Got it!” Those hands, which I had once cherished, had never cooked for me. Now, they were readily available for Leo at any time. The power of a first love, truly something to both adore and despise. The pain in my abdomen intensified, sweat trickling down my face. I knew I looked a mess, but compared to the scene in front of me, I’d rather escape. Just as I turned to leave, Leo called out, “Mark? What are you doing here?” Leo noticed me standing by the dermatology clinic door. His eyes lit up, and he walked straight towards me. As they got closer, Leo’s eyes filled with disdain. “What are you hiding for? Looking so rough, afraid we’ll find out you’ve got some shameful disease?” The smile that had been on Chloe’s face vanished the moment she saw me. “Didn’t I tell you I’d come find you? Is it fun stalking us every day? Your foot’s injured, and you still can’t stay put, insisting on coming here to make trouble for yourself?” I looked up at Chloe. She seemed to be expecting me to be grateful for her “trust.” Grateful that she believed I didn’t have “that kind of disease.” Grateful that she was saving face for me in front of Leo. But there was no hint of panic or embarrassment on her face at her lies being exposed, only blame and coldness towards me. The sweat pouring down my face right now seemed to mean nothing to her. I tried to walk around them, heading for the restroom further down. But Leo suddenly reached out to block me. I instinctively tried to avoid his touch. With a slight shrug, I somehow sent Leo sprawling to the ground. Chloe reacted instantly, helping Leo up and, in the same motion, shoving me to the floor. “Mark!” “Haven’t you had enough!” She hadn’t used her full strength, but the stitches in my foot, the anesthetic long worn off, throbbed with unbearable pain. I couldn’t withstand even that gentle push. The fall made me dizzy. The pain in my abdomen and foot quickly spread to my stomach, sending waves of cramps through me. My temples throbbed. I just wanted to get up quickly and get to the restroom to relieve myself. I finally struggled to my feet, but Chloe gripped my wrist tightly, not letting me go. “Apologize to Leo!” In her cold eyes, she completely missed the fact that the gauze on my foot was now soaked red with blood. My whole body was screaming in pain. I used all my strength to stand steady, fighting back my anger, demanding she let go. She squeezed my wrist so hard her nails almost dug into my flesh, leaving red marks. But I wouldn’t give in. “You didn’t leash your dog. What’s that got to do with me?” “If you don’t let go, I’ll tell your family about your little affair!” Chloe finally released her grip, her eyes red. She slapped me across the face. “Mark! You dare!” She looked like she wanted to yell more, but the next second, the intense abdominal pain made me suddenly vomit. It was a purely physical reaction, not intentional. I threw up acidic bile all over Chloe. Compared to my wretched state, the stains on her dress were more conspicuous. This sudden turn of events, strangely, made me feel a little better. Seeing my pale face and the pain in my eyes, Chloe, surprisingly, didn’t fly into a rage about being soiled. She forgot Leo was even there and instinctively moved to pat my back. “You drank so much last night, you must have gastritis! Why are you always so much trouble!” Her scent made me wrinkle my nose. I pinched my nostrils and dodged her touch. Chloe’s hand froze in mid-air, the concern on her face vanishing quickly. “Mark! Aren’t you going too far!” I ignored her accusation and limped towards the restroom to clean myself up. Only then did Chloe remember my injured foot. A flicker of guilt crossed her face. She followed me to the restroom door, trying to soothe me, “Okay, I shouldn’t have hit you. But you stalking us, that’s not exactly honorable, is it? I’ll take you to see a doctor. Stop making a scene, okay?” This was the first time she’d spoken to me so gently since Leo came back, as if coaxing a child. But it only made me feel sicker. I couldn’t help but dry heave again. Chloe panicked. Ignoring that it was the men’s room, she rushed in to help me. “Get away! Don’t touch me!” I slapped her hand away without mercy. She froze, her eyes wide with disbelief, then her face flushed with anger. “Don’t you have any dignity as a man?” “I gave you the Evans family name, you should have some responsibility! Since you’re so ungrateful, let’s just get a divorce!”

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The day I was diagnosed with stomach cancer, Ethan ditched me to party all night with Jessica, the girl he’d always idealized. While I was in bed, dying in pain, he, conveniently using his amnesia as an excuse, showered Jessica with endless attention. He once swore that no matter what happened to him, he’d always remember his love for me. Even if he forgot everything else, my name would be etched on his heart. But… everything had changed. Heartbroken and disillusioned, I asked for a divorce, no longer hoping he’d regain his memory and remember the love we shared. I never expected that after the divorce, Ethan would come running to me like a madman: “Sarah, I remember everything now! You’re the one I’ve loved from the very beginning. Can you give me another chance?” I pulled my hand away, a cool breeze teasing my hair. Looking at his pathetic state, I chuckled. “But Ethan, I don’t love you anymore.” 1. Clutching the report, my hand trembled as I called Ethan. The phone rang until it was about to go to voicemail before it was picked up. Jessica’s voice came through first. “Hello, Sarah. Is there something you need?” I wiped a tear from the corner of my eye, fighting back a sob. “Please put Ethan on the phone.” Jessica chuckled smugly. “But he’s busy cooking for me right now. Why don’t you tell me, Sarah? I’ll pass it on when he’s free.” I clutched the report in my hand, nearly crumpling the paper. Then I heard Ethan’s voice from her end. “Jess, do you want the ribs steamed or braised?” “Either way is fine. As long as you’re making it, I’ll love it.” Jessica’s sweet laughter felt like a dull knife twisting in my heart. I balled up the report in my hand, finally losing control and screaming, “Put Ethan on the phone!” The moment I said it, the call ended with a sharp click. I squatted on the floor, helpless, shiny tears welling in my eyes and splashing onto the ground. I cried until I was almost out of breath. Then, my phone, still in my purse, started vibrating. I picked it up and saw Ethan’s name on the screen. Quickly, I wiped my tears, cleared my throat to make my voice sound normal. I didn’t want him to worry about me. The second I answered, Ethan’s angry shout filled my ear, “Sarah, what the hell is wrong with you?” His yelling stunned me. Jessica’s tearful voice followed. “It’s okay, Eth. Sarah has every right to be angry and yell at me.” “After all, I’m all alone and always troubling you. Please don’t fight with Sarah because of me.” “Sarah, if you’re angry, take it out on me. Yell at me, hit me, whatever you want. It’s all my fault. Eth and I are just close friends. If I’ve caused any misunderstanding, I apologize.” I smiled through the pain in my body and heart. When you love someone, you stand by them, no questions asked. As soon as Jessica finished speaking, Ethan, without even asking me a single question, rushed to comfort her tenderly, “You don’t need to apologize. You did nothing wrong.” “Sarah, you know Jessica isn’t well! You’ve made her cry! Apologize to her right now!” Ethan barked. Suppressing my emotions, I retorted, “Why should I apologize to her? I didn’t do anything!” 2 Hearing my rebuttal, Ethan got even angrier. “You mess up and won’t even admit it. I never knew you were such a deceitful and malicious woman!” Deceitful? Malicious? He wouldn’t even listen to a word of my explanation, unconditionally believing Jessica’s side of the story. My emotions were on the verge of collapse. Gripping my phone, I asked him, “Ethan, whose husband are you, anyway?” Forcing back the churning sickness in my heart, I let out a cold laugh, but the tears wouldn’t stop falling. “Anyone who didn’t know better would think you were Jessica’s husband.” “What nonsense are you spouting! How can your mind be so filthy and disgusting?” Ethan snapped, and Jessica immediately chimed in, “I’m sorry, Sarah. There’s really nothing between Eth and me. If you mind, I’ll…” Ethan cut her off, his voice full of concern, “Stop crying. This isn’t your fault at all.” “Sarah, it’s bad enough you’re slandering me, but now you’re dragging Jessica through the mud too. You need to apologize to her immediately!” Clutching my abdomen, where the throbbing pain made it hard to breathe, I forced out the words, “I won’t apologize, Ethan.” The next second, I finally couldn’t hold on anymore and slumped to the ground, completely drained. The doctor said that in my condition, chemotherapy was my best chance for survival. But I knew that chemotherapy meant spending my remaining time in the hospital. I didn’t want to spend my days in a hospital room reeking of antiseptic, every moment feeling like a death sentence being read out. It was the next day when I got home. The house was just as I’d left it. Ethan hadn’t come back. This wasn’t the first time he’d stayed over at Jessica’s. I let out a bitter, small laugh. Laughing at myself for being such a fool, for always fantasizing that this relationship could go back to how it used to be. Ethan didn’t come back until evening, carrying a takeout container. “Why are you asleep so early?” He threw back the covers and roughly pulled me up. “I brought you some food.” Clutching my faintly aching stomach, I was dragged to the dining table. He casually tore open the packaging. “Jessica cooked this for you specially. She knows you have a sensitive stomach, so she made you some nourishing chicken soup.” Ethan thrust a spoon into my hand. The moment he opened the lid, the greasy smell hit me, and I felt an overwhelming urge to vomit. “What are you waiting for? Eat up.” The doctor had told me to eat light, bland food for now, nothing greasy or spicy. I put the spoon down. “I don’t want to eat.” Ethan’s face changed instantly. “What’s with the attitude? Jessica put aside your earlier fight and was kind enough to make you soup. Don’t be ungrateful.” He knew my stomach was sensitive, that I never ate greasy food, yet he stubbornly pushed the bowl into my hands. “Eat it! Jessica spent over two hours simmering this!” I looked at the man before me, the man I had loved for nearly seven years. From eighteen to twenty-five, scenes from our past flashed through my mind. The year we graduated, at the bustling ceremony, he knelt on one knee with a bouquet of flowers. “Sarah, marry me, will you?” In that instant, everything else faded away; my world was only him. But in the second year of our marriage, he had a car accident. The car plunged off a cliff, his life hanging in the balance. I begged God, I’d do anything, just to keep him alive. Perhaps the heavens took pity; he woke up after being in a coma for two months. But his memory had regressed to the year he graduated high school. He’d forgotten all the hard years I’d spent by his side, but he remembered Jessica, the girl he’d loved from afar in high school but couldn’t have. I quit my job and took care of Ethan for three months. Then, Jessica came back. 3 The moment Jessica appeared, his dull eyes lit up with a brilliant spark. My heart ached with a crushing pain, yet I refused to give up, comforting myself that one day he would fall in love with me again. But it’s been almost three years, and Jessica is still his unwavering favorite. Since she reappeared, I was no longer his special exception. Ethan’s phone vibrated. The ringtone was the special one he’d set for Jessica. He immediately put down what he was doing, picked up his phone, and replied to her message with intense focus. Whenever, wherever, if Jessica texted, he replied instantly. For me, he never did. Suddenly, I started to laugh, laughing until tears welled up in my eyes. Ethan frowned. “Sarah, hurry up and eat the chick—” Before he could finish, I cut him off. Looking up into his eyes, I said, word by word, “Ethan, let’s get a divorce.” His expression froze, as if he hadn’t processed what I’d said. “What did you say?” I pushed my chair back and repeated, “Let’s get a divorce.” The phone vibrated again, but this time he didn’t rush to answer. He turned and grabbed my hand. “Are you kidding me? You want to divorce me? Did you hit your head or something?” I shook him off and walked towards the bedroom, step by step. “I’ll have my lawyer draw up the divorce papers tomorrow.” Ethan dropped his phone, ran over, grabbed me by the shoulders, and pinned me against the wall. “Why are you being so unreasonable?” “Have you forgotten? You were the one who shamelessly told me how much we loved each other, begging me not to divorce you back then.” After a moment, as if he’d come to his senses, he let go of me and chuckled. “Or is this some kind of tactic? Playing hard to get? Trying to threaten me with divorce?” “Sarah, are you three years old? Still playing these childish games? How immature can you be?” I ignored him. The pain made every word feel like it drained all my energy. I pushed open the bedroom door and went in. Ethan followed me in and stood by my bed, staring at me with a complicated expression. He reached out to adjust my blanket. “I’ve explained it to you countless times. There’s nothing going on between me and Jessica.” I turned my back to him, not wanting to engage. His simple “nothing going on.” In reality, he’d left me when I was about to pass out from a high fever to go fix Jessica’s plumbing; ignored me when I was doubled over in bed with period cramps to go with Jessica to a hot spring… Incident after incident, I could talk for half an hour and not cover them all. Every time I thought about it, it felt like a thousand needles pricking my heart. 4 “I’ve just been too busy lately. I’ll take some time off soon and stay home with you.” Ethan left. I lay in bed, wiping away tears, one after another. He was busy, yes, but when it came to Jessica’s affairs, he could always find time. For me, however, everything was always postponed. The next day. An enticing aroma of food filled the room. But things were different now. My body wasn’t what it used to be. The pain in my lower abdomen was a constant, stark reminder of the time I had left. No food, no matter how tempting, held any appeal. After washing up, I headed out. Just as I pushed open the door, I heard a familiar female voice. “Wow! That smells amazing! Is that my favorite, sweet and sour ribs?” “Not quite done, but you can taste the sauce.” Ethan dipped his finger in some sauce and held it to Jessica’s lips. Jessica smiled and expertly licked the sauce off his finger. “So good! Eth, your cooking is still the best!” Jessica praised him, hugging his arm. The water in the pot suddenly boiled over, and Ethan spun around, pulling Jessica into his arms. He anxiously checked her arm, while Jessica nestled in his embrace, playfully tapping his chest. “You scared me to death~” “Go wait on the sofa. There’s ice cream you like in the fridge.” “Thanks, Eth!” Jessica stood on her tiptoes and happily kissed Ethan’s cheek. As she turned, her eyes met mine. I was leaning against the doorframe, watching their intimate interaction. Jessica’s expression immediately turned flustered. “Oh, Sarah! I was just so happy, I didn’t mean anything by it…” “Sarah, don’t misunderstand. Kissing on the cheek is just a friendly gesture in other countries.” Ethan’s expression shifted instantly. He asked her meaningfully, “You’ve kissed other people’s cheeks?” There was a hint of jealousy in his tone; I heard it. Jessica quickly turned back to him to explain, “No, only you in this country, okay? You little jealous thing.” Ethan chuckled softly and walked over with a dish. “Jessica was worried you’d misunderstand our relationship, so she came over specially to explain.” Jessica smiled and walked over, picking up a gift box from the side. “Sarah, Eth told me you like this brand of dress, so I picked out the prettiest one for you.” Ethan nudged me with his elbow, signaling me to take the dress Jessica was offering. I glanced down at the dress in her hands. It looked very familiar. Jessica held the dress up against me. “I spent ages picking it out from my closet. This one will definitely look good on you.” Her words, as if a deliberate reminder, made me remember instantly. Jessica had posted on her social media feed before, asking if anyone knew where to sell used clothes, as she wanted to get rid of some old things. And what a coincidence, this very dress was among the ones she was trying to sell. Giving me her cast-off clothes as a gift. She really went to a lot of trouble, didn’t she? I pushed her away. “I don’t want secondhand things.” 5 “Sarah, you’re being completely unreasonable.” “Jessica specifically asked me about brands you like and picked this out for you.” Ethan shoved me, and I stumbled, my lower back hitting the corner of a table. I sucked in a sharp breath from the pain. I fought back the stinging in my eyes. “She gives me her old, unwanted clothes as a gift, and I’m supposed to be grateful?” Ethan paused, then turned to look at Jessica. Jessica’s mouth drooped, tears welling in her eyes. “I only wore this dress twice. I really like it, that’s why I wanted to give it to you. I thought you’d like it too, Sarah. I didn’t expect…” Jessica dabbed at her tears and walked towards me. “I’m so sorry, Sarah. I didn’t know you’d mind so much…” Ethan quickly pulled her back, acting as if she had suffered a great injustice, and defended her, “Even if it’s used, it’s still a gift Jessica carefully chose for you. You’re just biting the hand that feeds you, completely ungrateful.” I nodded despairingly, a bitter smile on my face. “In your eyes, she can do no wrong, and I’m just being unreasonable and petty.” The long-suppressed grievances pressed down on me, making it hard to breathe. I clutched my aching abdomen, fighting back the tears that threatened to spill. “Let’s get divorced. Let yourself off the hook, and let me off too.” Ethan looked impatient. “Do you really have to be so…” He was halfway through his sentence when Jessica pulled at his arm. She ran over to me. “Sarah, it’s all my fault, I apologize. Please don’t let this hurt your relationship because of me. If you’re angry, you can hit me, yell at me, it’s okay.” As she spoke, she grabbed my hand, pretending to hit herself with it. I didn’t want to get entangled with her and was about to pull my hand back when Jessica suddenly fell backward, collapsing to the floor. “Ah! It hurts!” I hadn’t even pushed her. Ethan rushed over, shoved me aside violently. I couldn’t dodge in time, and my back slammed against the wall, a sharp pain shooting through my shoulder blade. “Sarah! You’ve gone too far!” Ethan glared at me, completely oblivious to the sweat beading on my face from the pain, and picked Jessica up, carrying her towards the bedroom. Jessica, with her arms around his neck, shot me a provocative smile. Facing Ethan, she feigned a Exhort, “Eth, don’t blame Sarah. I’m willing to be her punching bag. As long as you two can make up, I’d even let her beat me to death.” Hearing her slanderous words, I clenched my fists and walked in. When Ethan saw me, he looked at me as if I were his mortal enemy, blocking the doorway angrily. “What, you don’t think Jessica’s hurt enough?” Jessica, feigning pain, gently tugged at Ethan’s clothes. “It’s okay, just a few scratches. If Sarah is still angry, she can hit me. I absolutely won’t complain.” “I didn’t even—” “Shut up!” I clutched my cheek, which he had just slapped, and looked at Ethan in disbelief. He seemed to realize what he’d done, looked at his hand, then hesitantly reached out as if to comfort me. “I didn’t mean to hit you. I just wanted you to calm down, Sarah…” I slapped his hand away and went into the room to grab my suitcase. “I’ll have the lawyer send you the divorce papers.” I didn’t have many things. It took less than twenty minutes to pack. As I carried my suitcase downstairs, Ethan stood at the door, blocking my way. “Are you serious?” “Sarah, if you walk out that door today, we’re really over.” I smiled, looking at the most familiar stranger in front of me. “Yeah, we should have been over a long time ago…”

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When I started my freshman year, my new roommate, Riley, insisted her aunt had to come with her to college. Her aunt had to take her to class and pick her up. I tried to reason with her a few times: “We’re college students now, can’t you be a little more independent?” But Riley just scoffed, “You’re all just jealous I have someone to take care of me. If you’re so capable, go get someone to chaperone you too!” Later, one day when I came back to the dorm, I found her aunt had taken over my bed. All my personal belongings had been tossed into the bathroom. I clenched my fists. When I confronted her, she said dismissively, “Alright, alright, I’ll have my aunt give you five hundred bucks. You can move out.” Oh, okay, so that’s how we’re playing this, huh? Fine. I’ll make sure your aunt “takes care” of you, 360 degrees, no blind spots. 1 Freshman year had just begun. Lugging bags big and small, I pushed open the dorm room door to find someone had beaten me to it. After a bit of chatting, I warmly called her Riley, and she pulled a few oranges from her bag, offering them to me with a big smile. Her aunt, Carol, saw me and only complimented how “fresh” I looked, and even added me on Insta. As night fell, the other two roommates gradually arrived. Looking at the scene, it seemed everyone was planning to stay the night. But we all looked at each other, an awkwardness hanging in the air. Because Aunt Carol was currently lying on the top bunk, blatantly scrolling through TikToks with the sound on full blast. A few minutes later, I couldn’t take it anymore and politely asked, “Ma’am, it’s getting pretty late. Maybe you could get a hotel room for tonight?” “I know you must hate to leave Riley, but classes don’t start until the day after tomorrow. You can spend all day with her tomorrow, okay?” But she just said, “She’ll just sleep here for one night, she won’t bother you all! Don’t be so stingy!” Was this really about being stingy or not? My temper flared, and I almost blew up right then and there. My other roommates each grabbed one of my hands, coaxing me, “Lily, forget it, forget it. School hasn’t even started, we can’t make things awkward already.” After popping a few candies in my mouth, I started to feel a bit better. For a while after that, even though Riley’s aunt didn’t do anything, I always felt like there was a pair of eyes in the dorm constantly watching the three of us. It was a feeling that’s hard to describe in just a word or two. After we’d all pretty much finished our evening routines, Riley’s aunt suddenly announced she wanted to clean. She said she was a neat freak, and if the dorm was too dirty, she wouldn’t be able to sleep. Everyone tried to tell her the cleaning could wait until tomorrow. We’d all made long drives from out of state; everyone just wanted to wash up and sleep, then clean tomorrow. Aunt Carol’s face instantly darkened. “How can you young ladies not care about cleanliness? If I clean tonight, it’ll be easier for you all tomorrow. I’m doing this for your own good!” In the ensuing silence, someone muttered, “Psycho.” I just felt incredibly annoyed. It was already almost midnight, and everyone was about to fall asleep. If our room started making noises from scrubbing clothes or a washing machine spinning, we’d definitely have people knocking on our door. But before we could say anything, a few “little pearls”—tears—slid down Riley’s cheeks, making her look utterly pitiable. 2 “I know, my aunt and I are from the countryside, and I’m the only one in my family to go to college. I haven’t spent time with city folk like you. My aunt is just trying to do what’s best for me, what’s she done wrong!” All I wanted to say was, honey, your aunt hasn’t just done something wrong; she fundamentally doesn’t know how to act around people. Riley was still sobbing, the sound more grating than a whistling kettle. “You’re all just deliberately ganging up on me! Is there any justice in the world?!” With that, she violently swept everything off her desk onto the floor. The sharp clatter instantly echoed through the entire dorm. Sure enough, a little while later, students from downstairs knocked on our door. “What are you doing up at this hour instead of sleeping!” “Why is there a parent here? What’s wrong with you, staying in a student dorm!” They clamored, then called the RA for our dorm building. The RA was efficient. First, she “escorted” Riley’s aunt out of the dorm, then gave her the address of the nearest hotel. After all, tomorrow was the last day before classes officially started; it wasn’t worth making a fuss now. Riley held her aunt’s hand, tears seeming to well in her eyes. Right up until her aunt was escorted out of the dorm building, Riley was still trying to negotiate with the RA, asking if her aunt could just stay for one night. But the RA, seeing such a commotion, was definitely not going to agree to her request. Finally, the RA laid down the law: “If you two keep causing trouble here, I’ll report this to the university tomorrow.” Hearing this, Aunt Carol’s expression changed instantly, and only then did she leave resentfully. She was afraid Riley would face some punishment because of this, affecting her ability to study and graduate normally. That night, Riley buried her head under her covers, saying nothing. Not a single sound. Anyone who didn’t know better would have thought she’d fainted from sadness. But my gut told me she was definitely not asleep. I opened my phone and went into our little three-person group chat. “Lily, what are we going to do? You think she’ll try to get back at us?” “Either explode in silence or perish in silence.” Leah was the first to speak. I replied, “So what? If she wants to explode, let her. We’re in the right. Worst case, we stand our ground!” 3 After classes officially started, Riley kept to herself, looking quite carefree. Her aunt somehow got hold of an electric scooter and would ferry her to the academic buildings every day. During Riley’s classes, the aunt would wait in a nearby empty classroom, sometimes even rummaging through recycling bins for empty bottles. When Riley’s class ended, she’d weave through the crowds out of the building, and upon reaching Riley, give her a fierce hug. All the students present would eye the two of them. But Riley seemed to enjoy it. Enjoyed the feeling of being the center of so much attention. Passersby would whisper: “Are those two okay? They’re treating going to and from class like it’s the SATs, getting so worked up seeing each other.” “The SATs just filter out people who aren’t as academically strong; they don’t filter out total babies.” Riley heard them but didn’t seem to care at all. She said to Aunt Carol: “Auntie, I don’t have any more classes. Let me take you to the dining hall for lunch.” With that, she hopped on her aunt’s scooter, and they sped off. Chloe and I exchanged a look; something felt off. I pulled out my phone to check the schedule. The next class was clearly Calc 101. How could she say she had no more classes? But time waits for no one, and we couldn’t dwell on it. After class, Chloe and I sprinted to the dining hall. Damn, it was more crowded than Black Friday. After getting our food, we finally found a table, only to see Riley and her aunt sitting at the next one. Her aunt was eating food bought with Riley’s meal card, praising it as she ate: “The food at this university is just delicious! Riley, you eat more too. Classes are so tiring.” Chloe muttered, “She’s only been in class for a few days, how tired can she be!” Not wanting to disturb our precious mealtime, we didn’t greet them, just turned away to focus on our food. But, as luck would have it, her sharp-eyed aunt spotted us. “Why are you so late! Any later and there’d be no food left.” We just exchanged a few pleasantries with her and didn’t continue the conversation. Chloe stared at her half-empty bowl, fiddling with her chopsticks dejectedly: “Lily, I didn’t understand a single thing in that Calc class. If you don’t help me, I’m definitely going to fail the final!” In the noisy environment of the dining hall, my conversation with Chloe was barely a whisper. But to someone who was listening intently, it was heard crystal clear. “Aren’t you all in the same class? Why are your schedules different?” Riley’s aunt scooted closer to our table. Hearing this, Riley’s chopsticks clattered to the floor. She then guiltily picked them up, her eyes darting towards us occasionally. Chloe was startled by her sudden movement and hesitated whether to speak. I nudged her under the table and said to Riley’s aunt: “We’re in the same class and the same dorm, so of course, our schedules are the same. The professor said this course is really important, and we absolutely can’t skip it. That’s why we’re so late to the dining hall.” I said it casually. Hearing this, Aunt Carol’s expression immediately soured. She snatched the chopsticks from Riley’s hand and slammed them on the ground: “Did you have a class just now? Why didn’t you go? You pretended you wanted to show me the university dining hall just to skip class, didn’t you!” “Your parents heartlessly abandoned you, and I raised you to this age, and now you dare to pull something like this?” After being yelled at in public, Riley’s ears turned beet red, but she mumbled: “It’s just one skipped class, what’s the big deal? I saw online that a college experience isn’t complete without skipping a class.” Smack! Another crisp sound. Everyone present gasped. A bright red handprint appeared on Riley’s face. “Still dare to talk back! It looks like I can’t leave your side for a second from now on. Who knows what you’ll do next.” Seeing the crowd вокруг, Riley wanted to cry but was too embarrassed to cry too loudly, so she just buried her face in the table and whimpered. My roommate and I took the chance to leave the dining hall. We’re all college students; it’s good enough if we can manage ourselves. But when I returned to the dorm that evening, I found someone on my bed. 4 At first, I thought an outsider had picked the lock to our dorm room, but when I looked closer, I realized it was Riley’s aunt lying there. Seeing me, Riley’s aunt slowly craned her neck from the bed: “Oh, Lily. I figured it would be more convenient to take care of Riley if I just stayed in the dorm.” It turned out Aunt Carol thought renting an apartment off-campus was too expensive, so staying in the dorm was better. “Riley said all this stuff of yours was old anyway, so I just tossed it in the bathroom. If you want to get it…” I clenched my fists, so angry I couldn’t speak. Seeming to notice my expression wasn’t right, she hesitated for a moment, then said: “Don’t worry, I’ll give you five hundred a month. You can rent any place you like.” Hilarious. What kind of decent place could you rent for five hundred? If it was so easy to rent off-campus, why didn’t she do it? Thinking this, I gritted my teeth but still managed to squeeze out an extremely ugly smile: “Riley is so lucky to have such a wonderful aunt like you! But five hundred isn’t enough to rent a safe place. I’m a girl living alone outside, with no one to accompany me…” At this point, I slowly lowered my head, my long hair falling, feigning a pitiful look. She fidgeted with her fingers, clearly unsure how to react to my act. “Lily… are you crying? Then how much would a safe place cost?” I trembled all over, looking utterly heartbroken. No one knew I was actually holding back laughter. The kind where your toes curl up. But I managed to keep my voice steady and said, “Not much, just four thousand…” “How much? Four… four thousand?” I nodded vigorously, implying that the cheaper places nearby weren’t secure, and a higher price meant more safety. Riley’s aunt clearly became hesitant. “Honey, you know our family doesn’t have much money, could we…” “You watched Riley grow up. You’re accompanying her like this now; she’ll definitely make big money in the future. You can’t even spare this little bit?” “If you stay here, I definitely won’t tell anyone. This way, you can focus on taking care of Riley’s daily needs.” She looked at me, her eyes slowly becoming firm. Without another word, she transferred five thousand to me; the extra thousand was for me to buy snacks. I accepted it with satisfaction, quickly packed a few things, and prepared to leave. But she grabbed my arm and finally asked me: “Lily, it’s so late, why isn’t Riley back yet? Do you know where she went?” I thought for a moment, then asked around and saw Riley’s social media post. It turned out to be a Student Government dinner, and Riley was at the table. With a quick swipe of my hand, I sent the restaurant’s location to her aunt. I said seriously: “Ma’am, Riley is at this place having dinner with others. Why don’t you go check it out? There are a few guys there too!” Hearing this, her face instantly turned pale. She haphazardly grabbed her bag and rushed out the door, muttering incoherently: “Not coming back to sleep in the middle of the night, and running off to eat with a bunch of guys. I think she’s trying to turn the world upside down!” Watching her retreating figure, I secretly plotted. Riley, don’t you enjoy having someone with you all the time? Then I’ll let you thoroughly enjoy the feeling of being “taken care of” from every possible angle. You’ll be very satisfied. 5 After my roommates all returned to the dorm, I told them what had happened. Hearing that Aunt Carol had stormed off to find Riley, they couldn’t hold back their laughter. Chloe immediately pulled out her phone and said loudly: “This is gonna be good! I’ll get us some eyes on the ground! We’re going straight to the source for this drama.” After some maneuvering, it turned out she actually had connections and got in touch with an anonymous source at the scene. Quietly starting a video call, we grabbed snacks, set up a small table, and gathered around to watch the show. In the video, a middle-aged woman walked slowly, her demeanor aggressive. By the time she reached Riley’s table, the group hadn’t noticed, thinking she was just a passerby. The first person to notice, of course, was Riley. She whipped her head around, saw someone standing behind her chair, and was so startled she almost jumped out of her seat: “Auntie, what are you doing here? How did you find this place!” “You brat, did you think I wouldn’t find this place if you didn’t tell me? It’s so late, and you’re still here messing around with these no-good friends of yours. Hurry up and come back with me!” Riley immediately got anxious: “Auntie, we’re all in the same department. We specifically came out for dinner tonight. We’ll go back after we finish!” In front of so many people, Riley couldn’t lash out at her aunt. But her aunt kept at her: “I said no going out at night, and that means no! How dare you talk back!” Saying this, she forcibly pulled Riley up from her chair. Riley resisted, and in the struggle, the table was overturned. The crisp sound of beer bottles shattering reached everyone’s ears. Her aunt stared at everyone with a strange look: “So young, and you’re already getting girls drunk? Are you all crazy?” The few girls present hurriedly explained that Riley had suddenly wanted to try beer, and no one had forced her to drink. Besides, one bottle of beer split among several people, how could anyone get drunk? Even if she was a lightweight, they would have safely escorted Riley back to the dorm and would never have abandoned her. But her aunt still couldn’t accept it: “I see you’re all in cahoots with those guys! I’ve lived for so many years, what kind of people haven’t I seen? You think a few young punks like you can fool me?” Riley shook her head frantically, explaining that it was really just an ordinary get-together to build friendships. But she still couldn’t win against her aunt, who grabbed her by the ear and dragged her away. Some onlookers couldn’t help but laugh, pointing at them. Her aunt, however, felt no shame at all; she believed she firmly occupied the moral high ground. “Riley Liu, don’t come to the next department meeting… Some departments haven’t finished recruiting yet, you can try applying to others.”

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My daughter pointed to a photo on Instagram and asked me, “Mommy, why is Daddy kissing Uncle Leo?” I didn’t think much of it, figuring it was just a behind-the-scenes pic from Ethan’s new movie. He’d told me he was shooting a film with an LGBTQ+ storyline. But the next day, I saw the footage from the security camera in our bedroom. Ethan and that man were passionately kissing on my bed, our wedding photo hanging on the wall behind them. And that man… was wearing my pajamas. 1 “Mommy, why is Daddy kissing Uncle Leo?” My daughter, Lily, looked up at me, her face a picture of innocence, pointing at a photo on her tablet. I was just plating the last dish for dinner and glanced over. It was a picture of Ethan kissing another man. The headline screamed: “Paparazzi Catch A-List Actor Ethan Cheating with Young Heartthrob!” I brushed it off. Tabloids these days have no shame. Ethan was currently filming an indie gay romance, and the man he was kissing was his co-star, Leo. Leo and Ethan had been best friends for years. When I was in labor with Lily, Ethan was out of town and couldn’t make it back, so Leo was the one who stayed with me at the hospital. That’s why Lily called him Uncle Leo and saw him as her godfather. So, I stroked my daughter’s hair. “Because Daddy needs to earn money to take care of Lily. This is just work for him and Uncle Leo. You can’t believe those nasty things people write to hurt them, okay?” Lily nodded vigorously. “I know, Mommy! I won’t believe those bad people.” “Mommy, when is Daddy coming home? The cake can’t wait much longer to be eaten by me!” “You little rascal,” I said, gently pinching her chubby cheek. “Daddy said he’ll be home right after work to celebrate Lily’s birthday. Can Lily wait just a little bit longer?” Ethan’s current film set was close to home. We’d agreed yesterday that he’d come back with Leo after shooting wrapped to celebrate Lily’s birthday. However, the minutes ticked by, and the food grew cold, but Ethan still hadn’t returned. The third time I called him, the phone finally picked up. A low, husky voice came through. “Eleanor? They added a last-minute night shoot. Ethan’s probably going to be tied up all night.” It was Leo. I felt a little uneasy. Ethan never let anyone touch his phone. Once, when he was in the shower, I answered a call for him. He blew up at me—the only time he’d ever really yelled—and we had a huge fight. After that, he never let his phone out of his sight, not even when he went to the bathroom. But he never seemed to mind Leo using his phone. Still, I couldn’t really say anything to Leo, so I just said, “Okay, well, please remind him he promised to take Lily to the amusement park tomorrow.” After hanging up, I put the birthday hat on Lily’s head, coaxing her disappointed little face back into a smile. Ethan didn’t come home that night. It wasn’t until the next morning that he dragged himself through the door, looking utterly exhausted. I knew filming was tough, so I didn’t mention him missing the party. I just ran him a hot bath and heated up breakfast. “Ethan, you must be exhausted. Go take a hot shower, have some breakfast. You can take Lily out later.” Ethan rested his head on my shoulder and took a deep breath. “Ellie, what would I do without you?” “Oh, stop it,” I said, smiling and patting his head. “Go get cleaned up.” “Alright,” Ethan mumbled, shuffling tiredly towards the bathroom, stripping off his clothes as he went. I sighed, resigned, and bent down to pick them up. That’s when I glanced up and, by chance, saw it: a bright red bite mark on his bare inner thigh. 2 By the time Ethan finished his shower, the oatmeal was ready. I brought out the sandwiches and oatmeal and casually asked, “Why the sudden night shoot yesterday? Didn’t you say you’d already talked to the director about finishing early?” “It’s all that idiot Leo’s fault. He messed up a simple water scene like twenty times. I had to stay late with him because of it.” “If it weren’t for our history, I wouldn’t even bother with him. Ellie, you have no idea, I was running lines with him all night, barely got any sleep. I feel like death!” Ethan was practically radiating frustration. He and Leo had signed with the same agency and debuted around the same time, slogging it out in showbiz for over a decade. It was just that Leo wasn’t as talented. After more than ten years in the business, he was still a D-list actor, barely on anyone’s radar. Ethan, on the other hand, was already a multiple award-winning A-lister. He’d taken this gay romance film partly to tap into market trends and partly to give Leo a leg up, hoping to boost his popularity. Ethan really was exceptionally good to Leo. Just like now. Even though he was complaining, there was an undercurrent of helpless fondness in his voice. I used to think Ethan just saw Leo as a younger brother, but now… I pushed down the swirling thoughts in my mind and smiled, trying to soothe him. “Alright, alright. He’s been your friend for so many years. Don’t be too hard on him.” “Hmph. For your sake, Ellie, I’ll forgive him this time.” I looked at the untouched sandwich in front of him and the nearly empty bowl of oatmeal, feeling a little quiet. Ethan wasn’t usually a big fan of oatmeal, but today he was acting completely out of character. I smiled. “Is my cooking extra good today? Looks like you’re about to finish all the oatmeal.” Ethan looked at me earnestly. “Ellie, your cooking gets better every single day. This oatmeal is heavenly.” I paused, a warmth spreading through my chest. I silently cursed myself for being so soft. After all these years, his words could still move me. Ethan looked at me, his face slightly flushed, just like the day he proposed. When I met Ethan seven years ago, he wasn’t an A-list actor yet, just a little-known performer. We didn’t have some dramatic, rollercoaster love story, no earth-shattering vows of eternal love. We met on a blind date set up by mutual friends. Everything just flowed naturally, falling into place. On our first anniversary, he showed up with a bouquet of roses. “Eleanor, will you walk with me through all of life’s seasons, for a lifetime?” After we got married, Ethan was gentle and considerate. We had our lovely daughter. Even if he often… had trouble performing in some areas and needed medication, the good far outweighed the bad. He was a good husband. No matter how busy he was, he never forgot a single holiday. Even if he was out of town, he’d send a gift and a loving message. He even converted all his earnings into gold bars, locked in a safe at home, and gave me the key. This was his way of giving me security, and I never once doubted he would betray me. 3 I reached out to touch his face and felt how hot it was. “You’re burning up!” Ethan blinked. “Am I?” “How can you not even know you have a fever? And you went and took a shower.” I was about to rush him to the hospital, but he stopped me. “It’s nothing serious. I’ll just take a fever reducer and sweat it out. But Lily… I promised to take her to the amusement park today.” “But you can’t take her out when you have a fever.” “How about this, Ellie? You take her first. If my fever breaks, I’ll meet you guys there. I already missed her birthday last night. I don’t want to disappoint her again.” “Please, Ellie?” Ethan put his hands together, looking at me with puppy-dog eyes, just like Lily did. I caved and nodded. Ethan happily kissed me. I playfully pushed him away. “Careful, you’ll make me sick.” When Lily found out Daddy was bailing on her again, her lip pouted so much you could hang a bottle on it. But once we got to the amusement park, she forgot all about it. The little tyke was bursting with energy. Chasing her around on this crisp October day had me breaking a sweat. I was worried about Ethan. He hadn’t answered two of my calls, so I opened the home security camera app on my phone to check on him. What I saw sent a chill straight through me, like I’d been plunged into an ice cave. In my bedroom, Ethan was pinned underneath Leo, who was kissing and biting him. Our wedding photo hung on the wall. And Leo… was wearing my pajamas. My hands trembled as I fumbled for my earbuds, jabbing the connector into my phone several times before it finally went in. I heard Ethan’s broken moans. “Don’t… not here. What if Ellie… comes back and sees?” “Eleanor took Lily out. They won’t be back anytime soon.” “Ethan, baby, they say it’s even better when you have a fever. Don’t you want to try?” “Mmm… uh… okay, but be quick.” 4 It was a bright, sunny day, but I felt like I was trapped in the dead of winter. I stood there, taking a couple of deep breaths to calm myself. Then, without hesitation, I dropped Lily off at my parents’ place and sped home, pushing the speed limit. But the scene at home wasn’t quite what I’d imagined. Ethan was lying in bed, looking weak, while Leo, fully dressed, sat on the sofa nearby, playing on his phone. When he saw me, he immediately stood up. “Eleanor, you’re back.” Ethan also looked at me, confused. “Ellie, why are you back so early?” “Lily got tired.” “Oh, Leo’s here? Why didn’t you call ahead?” I smiled at Leo. “I heard Ethan was sick, so I came to see him. After all, if it wasn’t for being up all night running lines with me, he probably wouldn’t have gotten this fever.” Leo’s voice was full of apology. I secretly sized him up but didn’t see anything unusual. He really did seem like he was just there to visit a sick Ethan. So normal, in fact, that I almost thought the scene I’d witnessed on the camera feed was a dream. I glanced at the security camera on top of the wardrobe. We’d just installed it last month, originally to keep a better eye on Lily. Never thought Lily wouldn’t need it, but Ethan would give me a “surprise” with it first. “Is that so?” I stared at Leo, a half-smile on my face. He seemed a bit unnerved by my gaze and swallowed hard. “Eleanor, what’s wrong?” I walked past him, opened the wardrobe, and pulled out the set of pajamas I’d seen in the video, handing them to him. “Leo, I just bought these earlier this year. Pure silk, incredibly smooth. I’ve barely worn them. They’re yours now.” Leo’s face instantly turned deathly pale. “Eleanor, I… I don’t understand what you mean.” “Then take these pajamas home and think about it. I won’t see you out.” 5 After Leo left, I finally turned to Ethan, who was cowering like a scared rabbit. “Honey, be honest with me. How long has this been going on?” Ethan scrambled off the bed and knelt before me. “Ellie, he seduced me! You know I’ve been shooting that kind of movie with Leo lately. I only just found out he… he’s always been in love with me.” “That night, I was drunk, and he used the excuse of filming to confess to me. I just got too into character and lost control for a moment. Ellie, please believe me, my heart only has you and our family. I swear, as soon as this movie wraps, I’ll never see him again.” “Ellie, just forgive me this once. Give me one more chance, please?” Ethan clutched at my clothes, sobbing uncontrollably. Seeing him like this, I felt my resolve soften. After all, we’d been married for so many years, and we had Lily. “Ellie,” Ethan slapped himself hard across the face. “Even if not for me, think about Lily! She’s so young. Can you really bear to let her grow up without a father?” “I swear, if I ever do anything to wrong you again, may I drop dead! Just forgive me this once, please? Please?” Fine. I sighed and pulled his hands away. “No next time.” After getting Ethan’s repeated assurances, I felt a little more at ease. Maybe he really had just had a moment of weakness. With such a big upheaval, I didn’t bring Lily back home immediately. I needed time to adjust. That night, I lay in bed with my eyes closed, pretending to be asleep. Ethan wrapped his arms around me from behind. “Ellie.” His breathing grew heavier. Normally, I would have hugged him back, enjoying some rare time alone together. But now, I just felt… disgusted. I broke free from his embrace and asked coldly, “Did you take your pills again?” Ethan froze, then stammered an explanation. “I… I just wanted to make you happy.” “Do you need to take them when you’re with him?” Ethan mumbled, “Ellie, it’s not what you think.” “If you can’t, don’t force yourself. I don’t need it.” I grabbed my pillow and went to sleep in the guest room. I didn’t sleep a wink. Forgiveness is easy to say, but hard to do. 6 Ethan did behave himself for a while, just as he’d promised. After finishing that movie, he didn’t contact Leo again. But it wasn’t even a month before he showed his true colors again, getting caught by the paparazzi and ending up trending online. That day, just like last time, he knelt on the floor, slapping himself and begging for my forgiveness. But this time, I didn’t soften. I threw him out. It’s true what they say online: cheating is either zero times or countless times. All that talk about a “moment of weakness.” The truth was, he’d been gay from the start. I should have realized it the first time he took those pills. But for all these years, even when I caught him red-handed, I kept deceiving myself: he still had me in his heart. Now, I finally couldn’t lie to myself anymore. My tears vanished into the darkness. I thought this was the lowest point of my life. But I didn’t expect an even crueler truth was waiting for me. Last month, when I went to pick up Lily, I gave the gold bracelet Ethan had given me to my mom. Only to be told it was fake. Mom was worried we’d been scammed and even sent me a report from a jewelry appraiser. “Ellie, honey, this fake is incredibly well-made. If your Aunt Sarah wasn’t an expert, we’d have been completely fooled.” “I know you two aren’t short on money, but you can’t let people cheat you like this. You need to be more careful in the future, okay?” “Okay, Mom. Thanks.” After hanging up, a chill spread through me. I suddenly remembered the gold bars in the safe at home. All these years, Ethan had claimed gold was a good investment and converted all his income into gold bars, storing them in our home safe. And I had the key. I quickly took out two bars and sent them for testing. The result was something I could never have imagined. All this gold… it was all fake! Ethan had been lying to me all along! Not just the gold; all the jewelry he’d ever given me was fake. Even my wedding diamond was glass. I clenched my jaw, my fists clenched so tight my nails dug into my palms. I was shaking all over, my eyes bloodshot. The hatred reached its peak in that moment.

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My dad believed in a tough-love, trial-by-fire kind of upbringing. Even though he was a billionaire, he threw me into the slums from the time I was little, left to suffer all sorts of humiliation. The person he sent to “take care” of me pocketed most of the money, feeding me nothing but plain bread and pickles every day. Constant malnutrition and oppression made me timid and insecure. Unable to take the bullying anymore, I jumped from the roof of a building. And after I died, my dad just gave my corpse a cold glance, completely unfazed. “This character build is a wash. Time to start a new one.” But what he didn’t know was, the new character was still me. I opened my eyes in a chaotic void, a warm sensation surrounding me. Memories flooded in like a tidal wave. The excruciating pain of my skull being crushed, bones shattered in my previous life, jolted me awake. I shot up in surprise. Had I been reborn? “Oh, honey, the baby’s kicking! So strong! Definitely going to be someone important someday.” “Of course. How could Rex Thorne’s kid be anything less?” Familiar voices drifted through a muffled barrier. I looked at my newly formed hands and feet and finally confirmed the truth. I had become Rex Thorne’s second experiment. Rex Thorne had clawed his way up from being the kingpin of his old, rough neighborhood. Dirt poor, he’d fought his way to notoriety. In his early years, he’d amassed wealth through sheer brutality, and with a stroke of luck on a few investments, he quickly became a billionaire. After his success, he rebranded himself as a renowned philanthropic entrepreneur, an inspirational legend for countless people struggling at the bottom, a symbol of someone who’d transcended their class. This also cemented his belief that only hardship could forge true talent. So, he’d tossed me, barely weaned, into the slums, assigning only a lazy, gluttonous caretaker named Brenda Lee to look after me. My biological mother had been forced by him to have me in the first place; she had no say in anything. Later, unable to bear Rex Thorne’s abuse, she chose a sunny day to overdose on pills and died. And all of this, Rex Thorne had viciously told me on the day I died, just before I breathed my last. “Useless thing. Your mother was useless, and you’re even more useless.” “Can’t even handle a little hardship. Good riddance. You would’ve just been a waste of space anyway.” With that, he’d turned and left without a shred of sentiment, rushing off with his mistress to start his “new character.” He left my body to rot, exposed and forgotten. But fate has a way of turning, and karma’s a bitch. What he never expected was that the “new character” he had such high hopes for was still me. And this time, I was going to make him pay a hundredfold. 2 The woman carrying me now was named Crystal Summers. Though her name sounded sweet, she was anything but. She’d climbed into Rex Thorne’s bed even before my first mom had taken those pills. She was a master of flattery, but Rex, despite being a total scumbag, was obsessed with his public image. Even with a string of women on the side, he only recognized my first mother as his legitimate wife. He wouldn’t give anyone else that official status until she was dead. Because of this, Crystal Summers resented my first mom, constantly scheming against her, both openly and secretly, causing her mental state to deteriorate until she finally killed herself. She even sent many of the people who bullied me, wanting me dead and out of the way. Thinking of this, rage boiled up inside me. Push-ups, backflips – I thrashed around in Crystal Summers’s womb, using the umbilical cord as a jump rope, putting on a full acrobatic display. I kicked out, and my tiny foot made a sharp bulge on her belly. She writhed on the bed in pain, wailing and crying out while simultaneously praising how “robust” I was. “Ouch, it hurts so much! Woo-hoo, ha-ha-ha, my baby’s little foot is so strong! It’s amazing, it’s going to kick right through Mommy’s tummy! Aaaah, ouch, you little rascal, it hurts so much!” Thanks to my relentless torment, Crystal Summers was practically half-dead throughout her pregnancy. On the day of delivery, I clawed and kicked my way out, ensuring maximum tearing for her. Blood pooled on the floor before I finally emerged. Her nether regions were a mangled mess. After that, Rex Thorne never entered her room again. When I opened my eyes, I saw the face that made me clench my teeth in hatred. Rex Thorne, seeing the sturdy physique I’d developed from torturing Crystal, beamed, his face wrinkling up like a Shar-Pei’s. “Wow, look at these strong little arms! And these thigh muscles! Just like his old man back in the day!” I gave a wicked little smile, wrapped my tiny hands tightly around his neck, and with all my might, started slapping his face, left and right. “Smack! Smack! Smack! Smack!” Rex Thorne had specifically invited the media to film this “tender” moment, wanting to project the image of a great, loving father. And this “loving” scene was, of course, clearly recorded by dozens of cameras with their long lenses and flashes. The reporters all had awkward, forced smiles. Rex Thorne, his face swelling up, tried to play it cool, his grin looking more pained than a sob. “Ha-ha-ha-ha, oof, see? This kid… loves me so much, ouch, ha-ha-ha, so strong.” 3 Later, I displayed astonishing linguistic and athletic talents. I was speaking fluently at eight months, even becoming a linguistic prodigy seemingly overnight, and by ten months, I was walking steadily, even able to jog a little. Because of this, Rex Thorne doted on me. In my previous life, I was thrown into the slums before I was even five. But this time, I was almost six, and he still hadn’t made a move, constantly clinging to me, which I found incredibly annoying. So, I escalated my kicks and punches, yet he’d just stare at me with stars in his eyes. I never knew Rex Thorne had a bit of a masochistic streak. “This is my boy!” “That good-for-nothing first one deserved to die! Should’ve died sooner! If he hadn’t, I wouldn’t have such a smart and adorable kid now!” Crystal Summers beamed, rushing over to hug Rex Thorne intimately. “That’s right, darling. The baby takes after you, a real chip off the old block.” Thanks to me, Crystal Summers hadn’t rested well at all during her postpartum recovery. Her face was sallow and waxy. Rex Thorne pinched his nose and disgustedly pulled away, muttering as he walked towards the bathroom. “Jesus, you stink! How long has it been since you showered?” His words hit Crystal Summers like a ton of bricks. A wave of shame and anger washed over her face. Because I constantly demanded her attention, she hadn’t even had time to shower. If she tried to hand me over to the maternity nurse, I’d scream bloody murder. She was barely hanging on by a thread after childbirth. Just then, I “accidentally” pulled out the phone I’d swiped from Rex Thorne’s pocket while he was holding me. The screen was vibrating non-stop. Flirtatious messages and risqué photos from various side pieces brazenly appeared right before Crystal Summers’s eyes. She puffed up like an angry mother hen. “You bastard, Rex Thorne! I just had your baby, and you’re already out wining and dining other women! I’ll kill you!” Clutching the phone, she stormed towards Rex Thorne. But before she could even utter her accusations, he sent her flying with a vicious backhand. 4 “Who the hell gave you the nerve to go through my phone?! Trying to control me? Who do you think you are?” “Take a look at yourself! I can’t even eat looking at that face of yours! I’ve only been putting up with you for our baby boy’s sake. Don’t push your luck!” Crystal Summers was stunned by the slap, covering her face, looking at him helplessly, her large eyes welling with tears. Rex Thorne couldn’t be bothered with her. He hastily scrolled through his phone and bolted out the door as if his butt was on fire. I watched this woman – tears streaming down her face, milk leaking from her breasts, blood from below – with cold indifference. I felt no sympathy. She who lives by screwing others over, gets screwed over. Serves her right. But as Crystal Summers sat on the floor crying, she suddenly burst into loud laughter. I thought she’d had a mental breakdown that quickly and was starting to feel bored, but then Crystal slowly stood up, a smile on her face. “You old bastard, you’re a real piece of work, but I’m no pushover either.” “You really think Rocky is your kid? Ha-ha-ha-ha, you old fossil, you’ve been shooting blanks for years! Dream on!” My eyes widened. So, Thorne Junior Number Two wasn’t even his biological child. The irony was, Rex Thorne, who valued blood lineage above all else, had personally killed the only true bloodline he had in this world. Pathetic and laughable. Since that was the case, I decided to give him another little push. While Crystal Summers was lost in her own main-character revenge fantasy, I grabbed her phone, unlocked it in a jiffy, and typed in some relevant information. Then I started wailing to get Crystal’s attention. Sure enough, she quickly looked over, annoyed. With Rex Thorne gone, Crystal didn’t bother pretending to be a virtuous wife and mother. She was about to wave for the maternity nurse to come soothe me when she inadvertently glanced at the phone screen. Her eyes instantly lit up.

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