I slept with the Supreme Commander of the Federation. My goal was to borrow his S-class pheromones to cure my genetic disease. After the treatment, I ran, casually leaving a single coin on his nightstand. It was an acknowledgment of his… services. I thought my plan was flawless. Until three months later, I was pinned to the ground while buying suppressants in the black market. Arthur pressed his gun against the back of my head, his tone freezing cold: “Finally caught you.” “Ethan, I was very dissatisfied with that one-dollar tip you left that night.” I instinctively shielded my stomach. No other reason. Just that this “job” had resulted in a little surprise. 1 When Arthur caught me, I was throwing up. Leaning against the filthy wall of the black market, I was retching so hard I thought I’d bring up bile. Being pregnant… this whole thing was way too out of bounds for a guy who had been an Alpha for twenty-six years. I should have just stabbed Arthur that night instead of getting soft-hearted and merely using him as an antidote. “Are you done throwing up?” A voice as cold as ice came from above. My spine stiffened. I didn’t need to look up to know who it was. That pheromone scent, like frozen earth after a blizzard—there was no second person in the entire Federation with it. Arthur. The Supreme Commander of the Federation, an S-class Alpha known as the “Mad Dog.” He was also my former partner and my current mortal enemy. I wiped my mouth, slowly stood up straight, turned around, and flashed him a grin. “Well, Commander Arthur. Long time no see. Missed me that much?” Arthur didn’t smile. Behind him stood a fully armed special forces squad, their muzzles pointing uniformly at my head. This kind of lineup was a bit excessive, even for my funeral. Arthur, his black-gloved fingers resting on his holster, ran his dark, brooding gaze over me. Finally, his eyes settled on my stomach. My heart skipped a beat. I was wearing loose clothes, so I wasn’t showing much, but his eyes were as venomous as a snake’s. “Your skills have slipped, Ethan.” “You used to be able to smell me three streets away. Now I’m standing right behind you, and you’re dealing with morning sickness?” He used the term “morning sickness.” Not “nausea.” My pupils contracted slightly, and the dagger in my hand quietly slipped into my palm. “My stomach’s been acting up lately. Ate something bad.” “What, does Commander Arthur care about my diet now?” Arthur let out a cold laugh. The next second, he struck without warning. If it were the old days, I could have gone three hundred rounds with him. But now? First, my legs were weak from throwing up. Second, the aftereffects of my genetic disease, combined with the little vampire in my belly, meant my stamina was currently worse than a Beta’s. I only had time to raise my arm to block. Crack. Sharp pain shot through my wrist. Just like that, he twisted my arms behind my back and slammed me hard against the grimy wall. “Ugh… Arthur, you son of a…” “Shh.” The cold barrel of the gun pressed against the back of my head. Arthur leaned in close to my ear, his tone freezing: “Finally caught you.” “Ethan, I was very dissatisfied with that one-dollar tip you left that night.” 2 I was taken back to Federal Prison No. 3. This place was specifically for S-class felons, known as the “Living Tomb.” And I was enjoying the highest level of treatment—personal interrogation by Arthur. The heat was off in the interrogation room, and it was bone-chillingly cold. I was locked in a specialized interrogation chair, my hands and feet tightly shackled. These shackles could suppress pheromones; if I struggled too much, they would release a high-voltage shock. Arthur sat across from me, slowly and methodically cleaning his gun. It was the birthday present I gave him back in the day. I didn’t expect him to keep it until now, much less plan to use it to shoot me. “Ethan, three years on the run, and this is what you’ve reduced yourself to?” He looked up at me, his gaze critical. I was definitely looking rough right now. I’d been stripped down to a single, thin T-shirt. My abdomen was throbbing dully from the violent struggle earlier. I gritted my teeth, fighting back the waves of nausea welling up in my throat. “I’m doing alright.” I forced a smirk. “Just came back for a family visit, you know.” “Family visit?” Arthur acted like he’d just heard a joke. “Visiting who? That former partner you shot through the shoulder and left in the ruins?” Arthur had a through-and-through scar on his body. I did that. Three years ago, the first signs of my genetic breakdown appeared. To avoid dragging him down, and to find a banned drug only available on the black market, I orchestrated a defection. I deliberately missed his vital organs with that shot, but I didn’t expect him to hold a grudge until now. “That was an accident.” “The gun misfired.” SLAM! Arthur slammed his hand on the table. “An accident?” “And sneaking into my residence, drugging me, and using me like a cheap gigolo for a night—was that an accident too?!” I didn’t expect things to turn out like that either. Three months ago, I desperately needed Arthur’s bone marrow fluid or highly concentrated pheromones as a catalyst for my medicine. I sneaked into his residence, originally planning to just draw a vial of his blood. Who knew I’d walk right into the middle of his explosive rut? The whole room was filled with that maddening scent. As an Alpha whose genes were on the verge of collapse, being stimulated by that top-tier oppressive aura caused an immediate, massive rejection reaction. I went crazy too. Only one thought remained in my mind: I need him. What happened next was a blur. I only remember biting, tangling, and him calling my name in the haze of passion. But I couldn’t admit it. If I admitted it, not only would I lose the cub, I’d lose my life too. “Commander Arthur, you need evidence for those claims.” I stared into his eyes, forcing myself to stay calm. “Your residence is heavily guarded. How could I possibly get in? Besides, I’m an Alpha, you’re an Alpha. How do two rock-hard men sleep together? A sword fight?” Arthur narrowed his eyes. “You’re an Alpha?” He suddenly reached out, his hand moving toward the scent gland on the back of my neck. There was a heavy-duty blocker patch stuck there. “Ethan, your pheromone scent has changed.” “It used to smell like strong liquor, now…” He leaned in closer and sniffed, frowning. “Why does it smell like milk?” 3 A herd of wild horses was trampling through my heart. That was the specific scent of an Omega during pregnancy. Even a blocker patch couldn’t completely hide it. “It’s a new cologne. You wouldn’t get it.” “Is it?” Arthur sneered. His fingers suddenly tightened, ready to rip off the blocker patch. “Then let me smell what brand this cologne is.” “Don’t touch me!” I panicked and struggled violently. If he discovered my scent gland had mutated into an Omega’s, everything was over. The shackles sensed my struggle and instantly released a high-voltage current. Zzzzt—! “Ugh!” Agony ripped through my entire body. My vision went black, and I slumped in the chair, convulsing. The electricity didn’t just shock my nerves; it stimulated my already unstable reproductive cavity. It felt like someone had viciously kicked my stomach. The pain made me curl up, and cold sweat instantly soaked my back. “Ethan!” Arthur didn’t seem to expect me to react this violently. He immediately cut the power and reached out to slap my face. “Stop playing dead! That was nothing!” I didn’t have the energy to play dead. I was in real pain. I could even feel something slowly slipping away. “Medicine…” I gripped his sleeve. “Give me my medicine…” “What medicine?” Arthur’s face changed; he must have realized something was very wrong. My body temperature was dropping rapidly, and my lips had turned a purplish-blue. “I have a genetic disease… I need my suppressants…” I shivered, speaking half-truths. I couldn’t say “pregnancy-preserving drugs.” If I did, it would be two lives lost. Arthur stared at me dead on, his eyes unreadable. Just when I thought he was going to watch me die in pain, he suddenly turned and pulled a syringe from the drawer of the interrogation table. It was a military emergency med-kit. Without hesitation, he injected it into my jugular vein. The liquid pushed in, freezing cold. The pain eased slightly. I gasped for air, like a fish just pulled out of the water. Arthur threw away the syringe and grabbed my chin again. “Ethan, what exactly are you hiding from me?” “I’ve checked your physical data. An S-class Alpha’s constitution wouldn’t collapse from that little bit of electricity.” “Unless…” His gaze moved down again, locking onto my abdomen. It was still spasming from the pain. “Unless your physical structure has mutated.” “Take off your clothes.” “What?” I froze for a second. “I said, take off your clothes.” Arthur stood up straight. “Or do I have to do it for you?” “Right here? Are you crazy, Arthur?” “I do what I want, where I want.” He didn’t give me a chance to refuse, grabbing the hem of my T-shirt directly. Riiiip— The fabric tore. My upper body was exposed to the air. It wasn’t a pretty sight. Because my body was covered in scars. Knife wounds, bullet wounds, burn marks—crisscrossing like an ugly web. Arthur’s gaze didn’t linger on those old scars. He stared at my lower abdomen. There was a slight bulge there. If you didn’t look closely, you’d think it was just relaxed muscle. But Arthur reached out and placed his hand over it. I shuddered, instinctively trying to pull back, but there was nowhere to hide. “What is this?” His voice trembled. It carried extreme shock and disbelief. “A lump? A tumor?” He pressed down slightly. I let out a muffled groan. The little cub inside, as if sensing the approach of its other half’s bloodline, actually moved at that very moment. It was a very faint movement. But Arthur froze completely. “It moved…?” I closed my eyes in despair. It was over. This time, it was really over. “Ethan.” Arthur’s voice was hoarse, laced with desperation. “Are you… pregnant?” “An Alpha… pregnant?” 4 Since I couldn’t hide it anymore, there was no need to keep playing the submissive fool. “Yes.” I opened my eyes and looked at him provocatively. “If you don’t believe me, you can cut it open right now and see if it’s a freak or a miracle.” “Whose is it?” He thought I had been sleeping around with wild men out there, knocked up, and came back just to disgust him. I suddenly found it a bit funny. “It’s not yours, anyway.” I deliberately provoked him. “You know what the black market is like. To stay alive, sometimes you have to pay a price…” “Shut up!” He grabbed me by the throat, his eyes bloodshot. “Ethan, how dare you… how dare you let another Alpha touch you?!” The feeling of suffocation rushed in. My vision started to go black, but a smile still hung on my lips. “Cough… Commander Arthur… we broke up a long time ago… who I sleep with… is none of your damn business…” “I forbid it!” Arthur seemed to have lost his mind, his pheromones violently washing over the entire room. “You are mine! Even if you’re a corpse, you’re mine!” “Who does that bastard child belong to?! I’ll kill him! I’ll tear him to pieces!” His grip tightened. I was really going to be strangled to death. The fetus in my abdomen sensed the mother’s crisis and began to struggle violently. It hurt so much. A hundred times worse than the electric shock just now. “Ugh…” I finally couldn’t hold it in and let out a painful groan. That sound seemed to bring back Arthur’s sanity. He looked at my pale face and my starting-to-dilate pupils, and his hand violently released. “Cough, cough, cough…” I coughed violently, greedily sucking in air. Arthur stumbled back two steps, his chest heaving heavily. He looked at his hands, then at me, curled up in pain, confusion and fear flashing in his eyes. “Ethan…” “Get lost…” I was sweating profusely from the pain, gritting my teeth and cursing: “Arthur, if you want to kill me, just do it… stop torturing me…” “Medic!” Arthur roared toward the door. “Get the military medic in here! Now!” “I dare anyone to come in!” “Arthur, if you dare let anyone else touch me… I’ll die right in front of you.” I still held the broken half of the dagger blade in my hand. I pressed it against my carotid artery. “Let me go.” “Impossible.” Arthur refused without a second thought. “With your physical condition, walking out that door means death.” “Staying here means death!” I stared at him. “Arthur, I’m a mutated Omega from a secondary gender differentiation. This child is a monster; it’s eating my life!” “You need top-tier Alpha pheromones to soothe it. Nobody else can save you.” Arthur calmed down. “Ethan, no matter who this bastard child belongs to, we’re saving your life first.” “Once you’re cured…” A ruthless glint appeared in his eyes. “I will personally abort this abomination, and then I’ll find your wild man and tear him to pieces.” I looked at him. I had a lot of mixed feelings. Are you going to tear yourself to pieces? Idiot. But I didn’t dare say it. This child was his. If he found out the truth, given his obsession with blood purity and his controlling nature, this child wouldn’t live to see tomorrow. And he would lock me up, lock me up for the rest of my life. “Ah—!” A tearing, agonizing pain suddenly erupted in my abdomen. My vision went black, and I completely lost consciousness. But in the last second before I passed out, I heard Arthur’s panicked shouts. “Ethan! Ethan!” And that momentary, trembling embrace that wrapped tightly around me. 5 When I woke up again, I was lying in a hospital bed in the infirmary. There were no shackles on my hands or feet, but there was a collar around my neck. It was the kind of suppression collar with GPS tracking and electric shock capabilities. Arthur sat by the bed, peeling an apple. Seeing I was awake, he cut a slice of the peeled apple and held it to my lips. “Eat.” I didn’t open my mouth, watching him warily. “It’s not poisoned.” He took a bite himself, chewing loudly. Then he said suddenly, “The child is still there.” I froze for a second, instinctively touching my stomach. “Why didn’t you abort it?” Arthur tossed the rest of the apple onto a plate and wiped his hands with a tissue. “The doctor said your reproductive cavity is underdeveloped and the walls are too thin. Forcing an abortion right now carries a 90% chance of massive hemorrhage.” He looked up at me, his eyes cold. “I don’t want you dying on the operating table. That would be letting you off too easy.” “So you’re planning to let me give birth to it?” “Give birth to it, and then I’ll strangle it right in front of you.” A chill ran down my spine. This mad dog would actually do it. I took a deep breath. “Arthur, let’s make a deal.” “I’ll help you find the person who broke into your residence, and you let me and the child go.” Arthur paused his movements. “You know who that person is?” “Of course.” I lied effortlessly. “I saw him in the black market. He’s also an Alpha, very skilled in disguises.” “Oh?” Arthur leaned in close to me. “Then tell me, why does that person have the exact same beautiful peach-blossom eyes as you?” I stopped talking. This bastard was bluffing me. Arthur reached out and gently patted my stomach. “Ethan, do you really think I’m stupid?” “Even though the security footage from that night was deleted, you left behind plenty of biological samples.” “I ran a DNA comparison.” My heart skipped a beat. I was screwed. “The results aren’t out yet.” Arthur slowly added another sentence. “But I have time.” “Until the results are out, you’ll stay here quietly and focus on your pregnancy.” “If you dare to run…” He pointed at the collar on my neck. “This thing can only be unlocked by my fingerprint. If you dare take one step out of this room, it will explode.” “And turn that pretty head of yours into a smashed watermelon.” 6 I was under house arrest. Right under Arthur’s nose. I have to admit, aside from his venomous tongue and ruthless nature, this mad dog really knew how to take care of someone. Three meals a day of top-tier nutritious food, and he watched me finish every bite. He practically gave away his pheromones for free to soothe my restless reproductive cavity. My current body was like a bottomless pit, greedily devouring his pheromones. Sometimes when I woke up in the middle of the night, I’d find him sleeping right next to me. Not back-to-back like we used to. He held me in his arms like a body pillow, his hand resting protectively on my stomach. Even in his sleep, he would unconsciously nuzzle the top of my head with his chin. It gave me an illusion. As if we had never fallen out, as if these three years were just a dream. As if… we really were just a normal Alpha/Omega couple, anticipating the arrival of a new life. But when I was fully awake, I knew this was a dead end. Once that DNA report came out, once he knew this child was his—and also the tool I used to exploit him— What awaited me would undoubtedly be a captivity worse than death. I had to run. The opportunity came quickly. Arthur had to attend a high-level Federation meeting and would be away for three days. He tripled the guards, turning the entire building into an iron fortress. But he underestimated the escape skills of a former S-class agent. On the second night of his absence, I pried open the ventilation duct. The collar was a problem. But I took a gamble. I gambled that Arthur wouldn’t actually blow my head off. I tampered with the collar’s sensor, using a thin wire pulled from the mattress to short-circuit its signal transmitter. I only had three minutes. After three minutes, the system would report an error, and Arthur would receive an alarm. I had to sprint out of this building and jump into the moat within three minutes. Everything went smoothly. Until I climbed out of the vent and stood on the roof, ready to jump. A familiar voice that made my scalp tingle came from behind me. “Ethan.” “Where do you think you’re taking my seed?” I turned around stiffly. In the pouring rain. Arthur hadn’t gone to the meeting. He was wearing that black trench coat, standing in the rain, holding a freshly printed document in his hand. He held up the report, the paper snapping in the wind and rain. “100% match.” He grinned, revealing his stark white teeth. “Ethan, you have some nerve.” “You slept with me, got pregnant with my seed, and then lied to me that it belonged to some wild man?” “Tell me, how should I punish you?” I took a step back, my heels hanging over the edge. Below me was a hundred-meter drop into a rushing river. “Arthur, I don’t owe you anything.” I shouted loudly, my voice torn apart by the wind and rain. “That shot from three years ago, I paid it back! This child… consider it payback too!” “What are you paying me back with?!” Arthur roared furiously, throwing the report aside and charging toward me. “Your body is mine! Your life is mine! This child is mine!” “Get over here!” “In your dreams!” I didn’t want to be his canary anymore, let alone a baby-making machine. I leaned back and spread my arms. Just as Arthur’s fingertips brushed mine, I fell backward. The wind howled past my ears. I saw Arthur lunge to the edge of the roof, half his body leaning out. On that always-calm face, I saw an expression called “despair” for the very first time. “Ethan—!!!” In that moment, I actually felt a twisted sense of satisfaction. So the mad dog feels pain too? Then let him hurt. This was the final bite mark I was leaving him.

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My fiancé and my biological brother hated me for ten years. They firmly believed I had ruthlessly bullied the innocent, pure girl they both secretly loved. At my engagement party, they exposed my “crimes” to the world. “She is pure scum who bullies her own classmates!” In the video broadcasted live across the internet, the innocent girl smiled through her tears: “I don’t blame her anymore.” “Looking back, I’ve left that storm behind me.” She became an overnight sensation. Meanwhile, I was condemned by everyone, splashed with sulfuric acid by her extreme fans, and in my absolute despair, I dragged her to hell with me. When I opened my eyes again, I had returned to my senior year of high school. The innocent girl was pouring water over her own head, smiling as she asked me: “Have you figured out how you’re going to apologize to me later?” I snapped on the spot. I grabbed her by the hair, dragged her into the bathroom stall, and shoved her head straight into the toilet bowl: “Let me teach you what real bullying looks like.” “Your mouth is so filthy. Remember to wash it thoroughly before you go complaining to everyone.” 1 My last memory of my past life was the agonizing, near-death pain of concentrated sulfuric acid splashing into my eyes. Enduring immense agony, I searched through my blurred vision until I found Lily Harper, hiding safely behind my brother’s back. Then, I grabbed a cake knife, lunged forward, and plunged it right into her chest. “Let’s go to hell together!” … I opened my eyes again. The exceptionally clear sight before me left me stunned for two seconds. Until I looked slightly ahead and saw a much younger Lily Harper. Wearing a faded school uniform, she turned on the faucet and poured water over her own head. As she drenched herself, she smiled and asked me, “Who do you think they’ll believe? Me, or you?” It hit me in an instant. I was back to this day. The very beginning of my past life’s nightmare, when I was first branded as her bully. Seeing me standing there in a daze, Lily’s smile deepened: “Have you figured out how you’re going to apologize to me later, princess? —Ah!” Old hatred and new fury surged into my head all at once. I lunged forward, grabbed her by the hair, and dragged her straight into a bathroom stall. Amidst her sudden, piercing screams, I shoved her entire face into the toilet bowl. “Trying to frame me with a little cold water? Move over. Let me personally teach you what real bullying looks like.” Lily struggled like a madwoman, her arms flailing like windmills, but she couldn’t break free from my iron grip. Forced to keep her face submerged in the dirty water, she opened her mouth to let out muffled, garbled sounds: “Chloe Vance, let me go… glug… gag—” I looked up and laughed out loud: “Your mouth is so filthy! Remember to wash it thoroughly before you go complaining to everyone later!” I didn’t care if I had actually traveled back in time or if this was just a post-death hallucination. It didn’t matter. I was completely, utterly unhinged. 2 In my past life, I died on what was supposed to be the most glorious day of my life. That day, I had won my third Best Actress award. Wearing a custom haute couture gown, I stood beside my childhood sweetheart and fiancé, Ethan Cross, at our grand, live-streamed engagement party. And then, he announced to everyone present: “I will absolutely never marry scum who bullied her classmates in high school.” Under my gaze of utter disbelief, Lily stepped out from the crowd. With tears in her eyes, she looked up and smiled: “Chloe Vance, remember me? Lily Harper, the girl you bullied for ten years.” “You probably never imagined that one day, I would stand on equal footing with you.” “But it’s okay. I don’t blame you anymore.” “Looking back, I’ve left that storm behind me.” Broadcast live across the internet, she became an overnight sensation. Before I could even react, a swarm of reporters—arranged by my brother and Ethan—rushed in and surrounded me. “Ms. Vance, is it true you still maintain your habit of bullying newcomers on set?” “A few days ago, someone photographed you visiting a gynecology clinic. Did you contract an STD because of your promiscuous lifestyle?” An extreme fan charged out of the crowd, hurling a bottle of sulfuric acid directly at my face: “Die, you bitch!” As the liquid splashed over me, an overwhelming, searing agony fused to my skin. My vision never cleared again. Falling from heaven to hell took only a fraction of a second. 3 Snapping back to the present, I let go. I watched Lily collapse weakly onto the floor. That innocent, pure little face was now covered in filth. I couldn’t hold back a laugh. “Cry. Throw a fit. Go ahead and wear that exact face, and tell the whole world I bullied you—go on!” My voice abruptly pitched higher. Remembering the agonizing pain of the acid dissolving my features in my past life, I forcefully stomped on her face twice. Only then did I turn and walk away. Downstairs, my desk mate, Sarah Miller, was waiting for me. “Gym class started ages ago. What were you doing upstairs?” I said nonchalantly, “Oh, just bullying a new classmate.” She whipped her head around in shock. “What?!” I said, “As they say on the internet, when the whole world thinks you’re a mean girl, you’d better actually be one.” “Did… did the internet really say that…?” “Not important.” As Sarah and I walked toward the track, we bumped right into Ethan. He wasn’t in our class, but everyone in school knew he was my childhood sweetheart and boyfriend. Ethan’s gaze slid past my face and landed vaguely behind me. “Chloe, why are you so late? By the way, I heard you got a new transfer student in your class?” In my past life, every time Lily threw dirty water on my name, he would always tell me to apologize and let it go. He pretended to be on my side, but with just a few words, he always cemented my guilt as a bully. Thinking of this, I raised my hand without warning and slapped him hard across the face. “?!” Sarah, standing next to me, was stunned once again. Ethan’s expression didn’t change. His eyes cooled for a fraction of a second, but then he acted as if nothing had happened. He affectionately lowered his head and nuzzled my cheek: “What’s wrong, Chloe? Are you in a bad mood?” 4 In my past life, it took me a long time to find out the truth. When Ethan was young, his mother abandoned him at an amusement park, and he spent some time in an orphanage. There, he met a bright, cheerful little girl. She shared her bed with him and gave him a piece of candy. She was the only light in his life. That light was Lily. Furthermore, on her very first day as a transfer student, Ethan recognized her. He wholeheartedly believed every word Lily said about me bullying her, and he hated me to his core. But because of his status as an illegitimate son, he had to swallow his pride and suck up to me. He needed an alliance with my family to secure his footing within the Cross family. Thinking of this, I opened my mouth and said: “Let’s break up.” His pupils shrank abruptly. “…Why? Give me a reason, Chloe.” I pulled out a tissue and wiped the cheek he had just nuzzled, stroke by stroke. “I don’t want to date the son of a homewrecker. It’s dirty. Is that reason enough?” 5 After we walked away, Sarah cautiously asked if I had been possessed. I wasn’t surprised she asked. Because in high school, I had been so straightforward and passionately in love with Ethan. I waited for him after school every day so we could walk home together. I baked cookies for him, cutting and burning my hands in the process, just to hand them to him with a bright smile. My favoritism toward him was so obvious that the whole world knew. But things were different now. The Chloe Vance who had just started her senior year was dead. The person standing here now was Chloe 2.0—who had died once and came back for blood. 6 Lily didn’t show her face for the rest of the day. I knew that her face was her proudest asset. Unless she could fully utilize it for maximum effect, she wouldn’t show it easily. I waited very patiently. Soon, Saturday arrived. My 18th birthday. My parents had promised early on to throw a grand banquet to celebrate me coming of age. But due to a last-minute emergency at their company, they were running late. The crystal chandeliers gleamed brilliantly. Wearing a custom cocktail dress, I walked down the spiral staircase into the living room. From a distance, I saw my brother, Carter Vance. Dressed in a sharp suit, he wore a cold, indifferent expression as he called my name: “Chloe Vance. Come here.” I walked over. Pretending not to see the brooding Ethan or the tearful Lily standing behind him, I smiled sweetly: “What is it, Carter? Did you prepare a present for me?” Carter looked at me with chilling eyes for a moment before speaking: “Bullying your classmates, verbally abusing your friends. Chloe, is this what the Vance family taught you?” He didn’t lower his voice at all. Instantly, the eyes of every guest in the room turned toward us. “What are you talking about, Carter? I don’t understand.” I looked at Lily, tilting my head innocently. “Who did I abuse? When did I bully a classmate? I don’t even know her.” “It’s too late to act stubborn now. You made a mistake, and you have to pay the price.” “Mom and Dad aren’t here today, so I will discipline you in their place.” Saying this, Carter pulled a heavy wooden ruler from the display case nearby. He stared at me, his voice stern, enunciating every word: “Kneel.” 7 In the massive banquet hall, countless eyes watched, ready for a good show. “What? Bullying classmates? A daughter of the Vance family actually does things like that?” “Oh please, she was raised spoiled rotten. It’s totally normal for her not to stand someone better than her.” “Good thing her brother is upholding justice and not shielding her.” Under Lily’s smug and provocative gaze, I straightened my back. Smiling, I let loose: “What the hell are you talking about? If I didn’t know you were Carter Vance, I’d think you were some wandering ghost from the 1800s possessing a body.” “In this life, I only kneel to the dead.” I tilted my head, looking him up and down with a wicked smile. “How about this? You go jump off a building right now, and I’ll immediately kneel and bow three times to send you off.” Carter’s face instantly darkened. Behind his back, Lily put on her fake act and spoke up: “Chloe, I know you don’t like me. It’s fine if you bully me, but how can you speak to your own brother like that?” She widened her eyes, letting tears well up, deliberately putting on an innocent, naive expression. Seeing this, a flicker of dark, unreadable emotion crossed Ethan’s eyes. Then, he spoke in a low voice: “Chloe, since you made a mistake, just apologize. There’s no need to—” I also widened my eyes, looking deeply troubled: “I’m sorry, I don’t speak dog. Could you repeat that in human language?” “Enough!” Carter shouted harshly. “Chloe Vance, as a girl, do you have no sense of shame? Who taught you to be so foul-mouthed and completely devoid of manners?!” He was exactly like before. No matter what I said, he would never believe me. Instead, carrying intense prejudice, he would nail me to the pillar of shame over and over again. I tugged the corners of my lips into a cold sneer: “Mom and Dad are always busy, they don’t have time to raise me. Guess who taught me?” “You did, my dear brother.”

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After I confessed my secret of being intersex to my online boyfriend, he got even more excited: “Baby, when we meet, can I kiss you?” My face flushed hot, and I gave him permission. But right before our meetup, he complained about how hard it was to get along with his new roommate. At that exact moment, my new roommate’s phone buzzed. 1 “Baby, your voice sounds so good.” “Why would I be disgusted by you? Knowing that makes me even more excited.” “Baby, I want to see you so badly. I want to hold you, kiss you.” “……” At night, I was re-listening to the voice messages Z had sent me. His deep, husky voice slid through my earbuds like a lover’s whisper, making my whole body run hot. Having this kind of body is really too much trouble. When I carefully confessed my intersex secret to my online boyfriend, Z, I was terrified he would find me disgusting. But Z seemed to sense my anxiety, coaxing me gently: “How could I? Baby, I like you even more now.” After that, he’d randomly send me sweet talk. Making me restless and terribly thirsty. Unfortunately, Z went off to college, and reportedly his new roommate was a real piece of work, so it wasn’t convenient for him to send voice memos lately. I could only listen to the stash I had saved up. Fighting the restless urges, I tossed and turned again. Suddenly, someone knocked on the edge of my bed frame, scaring me half to death. Lifting the bed curtain, a tall silhouette stood below, his tone dripping with annoyed impatience: “Liam, are you done tossing and turning? Do you have any idea how loud you are?” It was Julian again. Julian was a neat freak, a light sleeper, and had a venomous tongue. Just hearing his voice annoyed me, so I instinctively snapped back. “Mind your own business. If it’s too loud, wear earplugs.” “Our beds are connected. Are you stupid?” Meaning, earplugs wouldn’t block out the vibrations of my tossing. Fair point. But I was still annoyed and was just about to keep arguing with him. I didn’t expect Julian to literally climb up. With his knees separated by the blanket, he half-knelt between my legs. His tall frame pressed down, caging me in on both sides with an intense, oppressive presence. I instinctively shrank back: “What are you doing?” 2 He didn’t speak. Suddenly, he grabbed my wrists with a firm, strong grip. My heart skipped a beat. No way. I just tossed and turned a bit. Is he really going to climb into my bed and beat me up? I was just about to struggle when he yanked my earbuds out and tossed them to the head of the bed. My phone received the exact same treatment. He bundled me up tightly in the blanket, his large frame still pressing down on top of me. “Liam, I’m watching you. Go to sleep right now.” I tried to move but found I was completely immobilized. Psycho. I was absolutely furious: “I’ll sleep, okay?! You’re so annoying! Go back to your own bed!” But in the dark, he didn’t reply. He just kept staring at me. I had no options left. He didn’t go back until I finally closed my eyes. My heated mood felt like a bucket of cold water had been dumped on it. Julian completely ruined my good mood. Damn it. Back when I had this double dorm all to myself, I didn’t realize how much freedom I had. I could voice chat with Z whenever I wanted. If I got restless in the middle of the night, I could just go take a shower and change into dry pants. But now, Julian was here. All of that was gone. Julian insisted on lights out by 11:30 PM sharp, and he was a light sleeper. Any little noise I made, he’d scold me. He was also a massive neat freak. If I threw dirty white socks into my own laundry basket and left them for more than half a day, he’d complain. It was incredibly annoying. I’d thought about fighting him. But he was almost 6’2″, a full half-head taller than me. Plus, he religiously went for a morning run at 7:00 AM and hit the gym to lift weights every night. The other day, I barely threw a punch before Julian easily pinned me by the neck against the closet door, asking: “Do you submit?” I really couldn’t out-argue him, and I definitely couldn’t out-fight him. I just had to take the L. But the resentment in my chest refused to fade. The next day, when Julian’s 7:00 AM alarm woke me up yet again, I opened my eyes. Unable to take it anymore, I grabbed my phone to vent to Z: [I really can’t stand my neat-freak, venomous roommate anymore. How can such an annoying roommate exist in this world? [o(╥﹏╥)o] He replied almost instantly. With a cute hugging sticker. [Pat pat, baby] [I agree, how can such an annoying roommate exist in this world?] I sent a sticker back: [Burying my face in your chest (Ծ‸Ծ)] [Z, is your roommate really annoying too?] He replied instantly. [Yeah.] [He’s very loud, and he’s not very clean.] 3 We were practically trauma bonding! Chatting away, I excitedly sat up to type. I casually typed out a few-hundred-word essay complaining about Julian. After I hit send, I worried I might be too annoying. But Z’s reply showed zero impatience. Not only did he provide immense emotional support, he also transferred me $520. I expertly accepted it, even though I wasn’t short on money. Z was very wealthy. When we first met playing games, he was always gifting me rare skins and items. After we started dating, he’d just send me money all the time. At first, I wouldn’t accept it, but he’d send a pitiful voice memo: “Baby won’t even spend my money… Do you not love me anymore…?” My heart would melt hearing that, and I’d accept it immediately. Now, after being thoroughly comforted by Z, the frustration in my chest was greatly soothed. A smile finally returned to my face: [Love you, ლ(°◕‵ƹ′◕ლ).] Z replied quickly. [（づ￣3￣）づ╭❤～] Ending the chat, I casually looked up, and my eyes met Julian, who was just about to walk out the door. He dropped his smile, quickly looked away, his expression turning cold. The upward curve of my lips instantly vanished too. Tsk, that deadpan face again. Just looking at it annoyed me. Honestly, we weren’t at each other’s throats when we first met. I’m a sucker for good looks, and Julian is handsome. Deep-set eyes beneath thick brows, a high-bridged nose, and thin, slightly pursed lips. The first time he introduced himself as my new roommate with that face, I pathetically stared in a daze. Damn. He was exactly my type. But I quickly snapped out of it. After all, I only liked Z. But as we interacted, I realized Julian really only had that face going for him. His personality was venomous and overly particular. With that face, I’d never even seen him smile. Plus, there was that one time in the dining hall. I accidentally overheard him hanging out with his frat bros, discussing intersex people. The jokes they were making were very explicit. “Julian, what do you think? Would you be into that?” I quietly perked my ears up nearby. And I heard Julian’s icy tone: “Stop talking about something so disgusting.” 4 That word, “disgusting,” pierced right into my ears. Even though I’d been called a monster and disgusting by my parents since I was little, I should have been used to it. But hearing Julian say it just pissed me off. It wasn’t like I wanted to date him anyway, yet here he was, acting disgusted. The anger went straight to my head. As I walked past him carrying my lunch tray, I deliberately “lost my grip” and spilled it all over him. The soup dripped down his shoulder. For a neat freak, this was undoubtedly the best revenge. Julian looked up and glared at me, his eyes as cold as if he were looking at a dead man. I took my time flashing a wicked smile: “Oops, sorry about that, new roommate.” After that, our relationship completely deteriorated. Whatever. It wasn’t like I cared about having a good relationship with him anyway. Whenever Julian left the dorm, even the air felt fresher. I was a junior with a light class schedule. I had already applied for grad schools abroad, so I didn’t need to study for the GREs. Laying in the dorm feeling bored, I missed Z again. I tentatively sent him a sticker: [Miss you.] He replied instantly: [Baby, I’m here.] Normally, when interacting with people, I’m not much of a chatterbox. But with Z, I always had a million things to talk about. Z would reply to every single message with infinite patience. No matter what mood I was in, he always knew how to catch me. I sent him a sticker: [Shooting love biubiubiu~] Suddenly, a message popped up from him: [Baby, let’s meet up.] My heart skipped a beat, my grip slipped, and my phone dropped right off the bed. Snapping back, I was just about to climb down and pick it up. The dorm door opened. Julian, with an ice-cold expression, closed the door, locked it, looked down, and saw my lit-up phone screen. The screen was cracked in one corner, but it didn’t affect the clarity of the chat log at all. Me: ! Z’s profile picture was a faceless torso shot of him wearing a black tank top, his muscle definition incredible. Now, with the screen unlocked, Julian definitely saw all the sickeningly sweet messages between me and Z. Damn it. He found out I was e-dating a guy, and he’s definitely going to use this to mock me. But surprisingly, he didn’t make a sound. Julian stared down at the screen, looking like he had been paralyzed. Then he turned his head, his dark eyes staring intensely at me. 5 His stare gave me the creeps: “What the hell are you looking at?!” After climbing down to retrieve my phone, I looked heartbroken at the cracks on the screen, muttering: “So annoying. I just got this new phone. Nothing good ever happens when I see you.” Normally, Julian would definitely snap back. But this time, he didn’t make a peep. I shot him a suspicious look. I realized he was still frozen in place, who knows what he was thinking, but his breathing had grown heavy, and his ears were bright red. Hah, probably pissed off by me. Serves him right. I looked away and typed on my phone: “I dropped my phone just now and cracked the screen. And that psycho roommate just happened to bump into it o(╥﹏╥)o.” Normally, Z would immediately comfort me and join me in cursing Julian. But this time, he didn’t reply for a long time. Z’s request to meet was still hanging there. Was he thinking I didn’t want to meet? I hesitated, typing and deleting, and finally gritted my teeth: [Let’s meet! I want to see you too!] The moment I sent it, I regretted it a little. My heart rate was skyrocketing. Half expectant, half nervous. Even though Z hadn’t shown his face, he had sent quite a few photos over time. Not a single pec or ab was missing, and the occasional close-up of him in grey sweatpants was enough to let the imagination run wild. When Julian called me on voice, he always loved to tease me: “Baby’s so bashful, you can’t even handle this?” Every time I heard him say that sweet talk, I’d blush and run to the bathroom to change my pants. Honestly, my thoughts about him weren’t that pure. Just looking at a photo Z sent of his hand once, I… In the photo, his fingers were long, the knuckles thick and pronounced. They looked incredibly strong. If we actually met, what would happen? Would Z really hug me, kiss me, really use those hands… My face flushed hot, and I quickly shook my head. Suddenly, a message came from him. [If you really don’t want to meet, you don’t have to force yourself. We can just keep chatting online for now.] I stared at that sentence. Why did his tone suddenly feel so formal? Before I could figure out how to reply, Z suddenly sent another transfer—$520. That’s a good chunk of change. I sent a [!?] Z: [Just treat it as compensation for your phone screen.] But buying a screen replacement wouldn’t cost this much. And… why wasn’t he calling me baby anymore? I pursed my lips in annoyance. After that, Z was noticeably much colder. I was incredibly frustrated. Was it because he thought I didn’t want to meet up, so his attitude cooled off? 6 It had been days. Z only sent ‘good morning,’ ‘good afternoon,’ and ‘good night,’ plus a money transfer. When I tried to chat with him, he’d say he was busy, and then attach another transfer. I stared at a screen practically full of $520 transfers, feeling “money-sick” for the first time. Many times, I impulsively wanted to text Z: [Let’s just meet! Right now!] But I hesitated, wanting to send it but not daring to. I was still scared. Z said online that he didn’t mind my intersex body at all, but what if we actually met? Would he also find it disgusting and call me a monster? Just like my parents. Even my own biological parents couldn’t accept me, let alone an online boyfriend. I ultimately didn’t send it. My mood was terrible, plus Julian had been acting like a psycho recently. He was like a lingering ghost; he was everywhere I was. And he loved staring at me, like a dog. My mood got even worse. One day, I walked out of the dining hall, looked back, and realized he was following me again. Unable to take it anymore, I stormed up and grabbed him by the collar: “Why the hell have you been following me lately? You want to fight?” Normally, he’d sneer at me coldly: “Liam, are you a kindergartener? Why are you always trying to fight?” But today, he was unusually quiet. He let me grab his collar, and even shook his head submissively: “I wasn’t.” I’d have to be stupid to believe him. I leaned in closer, narrowing my eyes to see through his bad intentions. But I noticed his ears were red. He turned his head away to avoid my gaze, his Adam’s apple bobbing heavily. That face, usually a deadpan mask all day, showed a different expression for the first time. It looked like… shyness. Damn, what am I thinking. I shook my head, let him go, and warned: “Stay away from me!” 7 But it was like Julian was deliberately trying to do the exact opposite. He stopped his morning runs, and he stopped setting his early alarms. I had a rare chance to wake up naturally. The moment I opened my eyes, a pair of dark eyes was right above me. Julian was sitting cross-legged on my bed, staring at me. His lips curved up, his voice deep and magnetic: “Liam, morning.” That smile actually looked pretty good. I rubbed my eyes. I must be seeing things. My eye twitched, and I looked down, pretending I hadn’t heard him, acting very busy folding my blanket. Annoying people always end up together. For the only group project in my junior year. I somehow ended up in the same group as Julian. During the group discussion, normally he would have constantly contradicted me. But today went surprisingly smooth. No matter what I said, Julian nodded along incredibly supportively. Me: ? After the discussion ended, Julian suddenly offered to buy the whole group drinks. I thought with his personality, he’d probably show off and buy Starbucks or something. But he said he was buying boba. I couldn’t help but swallow, swallowing the words of refusal I was about to say. My favorite! When Julian handed me his phone, I took it, pretending to be aloof. Just as I was about to order a Cocoa Ballet, 70% sugar, double ice cream, sub A2 milk, I realized he had already added that exact order to the cart. It perfectly matched my taste. Julian glanced at me staring blankly at the order screen: “I like this flavor, what about you, Liam?” “I… same here.” Why did this feel wrong somehow? Could it really be such a coincidence? After getting back to the dorm, I finally remembered that the shorts I changed out of this morning were still unwashed, soaking in a basin. I figured Julian was going to complain about it again. But I found they had already been washed and hung up to dry. I was stunned. Above my head came Julian’s low voice: “Oh, the shorts. I washed them while I was at it. Hand-washed, they’re very clean, and… “They smell really good.”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “392115”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

I, a top-tier gold digger, transmigrated into the role of a “green tea” female side character who was cyberbullied to death. A photo of the male lead was hanging on the campus forum. [I heard Harrison Ford finally has someone he likes. Is it going to be her?] [Can’t wait to witness Cinderella marrying into a wealthy family.] The girl leaving comments and stirring up the crowd downstairs was my roommate. She smiled radiantly and said, “You should just go ahead and confess your feelings. He doesn’t have a girlfriend anyway.” Bullet comments drifted past my eyes: [The male lead doesn’t have a girlfriend, but he has a fiancée, wow!] [The female lead is too kind. She saw the side character had a crush on the male lead, so she hid her identity as his fiancée.] [The side character should stop flattering herself. The male lead only likes her roommate.] [As soon as the clownish side character confesses tonight, the male lead will officially announce the female lead.] I curled my lips and posted a faceless selfie on a brand new account. The caption: [My good friend keeps telling me to confess to her childhood sweetheart. What should I do?] 1. Because the selfie page showed an IP address from Capitol University, it was quickly pushed to people within the school. Alumni commented: [Are you interested in her childhood sweetheart?] [The poster’s body is chef’s kiss. Love it. Is your friend trying to keep the good stuff within the family?] [Is her childhood sweetheart handsome?] I replied to them one by one: [I do like him a bit.] [She probably meant well. She’s always trying to set us up, inviting me to all sorts of activities.] [He is very handsome. But our family backgrounds don’t really match.] Soon, the alumni jokingly replied: [You both got into Capitol Uni, what’s there to worry about regarding family background? Unless it’s someone like Harrison Ford, then maybe you’d need to worry a bit.] [What’s there to worry about? Go for it, sis! If you break up, you might even get a ten-million-dollar breakup fee thrown in your face.] I gave each of their comments a like. The bullet comments surged rapidly. [Is the female side character trying to seduce the male lead by showing off her body? Dream on. The male lead only follows Serena Vance.] [This kind of post is so ‘green tea’. Good thing the male lead won’t see it, otherwise he might misunderstand the female lead.] The bullet comments were actually quite useful. If utilized properly, I could gather a lot of information. I curled my lips into a smile. Although I didn’t know the male lead’s account, I knew my roommate Serena Vance’s account. I clicked into her following list. She only followed 36 people in total. [LMAO, is the female side character trying to find the male lead’s account?] [Give up, there’s no way she’ll find it.] I went through them one by one, finally locking onto a user named “momo” with exactly 1 follower. Because this account only followed the female lead, and the IP address was consistently in Capitol City. I hit follow. The bullet comments exploded. [Holy shit! What a scheming bitch!] [How did she find it?] Harrison Ford’s account had always been quiet. Besides a few close friends in his circle, no one knew this “momo” was his account. He looked at the sudden new follower and frowned slightly. Who was “A Cup of Green Tea”? He didn’t care and locked his phone. He figured the fan probably just misclicked. The bullet comments gloated. [The male lead didn’t even click into the female side character’s profile.] [The female side character is such a dead ‘green tea’. Her ID really matches her personality.] [This novel is about childhood sweethearts who marry first and fall in love later. The male lead is very responsible and will only love the female lead after marriage. It doesn’t matter how beautiful the side character is.] [The female lead was always suspicious that he didn’t love her because he was so cold to her. But when she saw him ruthlessly reject the beautiful side character’s confession, she instantly felt relieved.] [The clownish side character is nothing but a touchstone for their love.] I looked at my bank card. Before I transmigrated, Serena Vance had urged me to buy a dress worth $160,000. She said a “battle outfit” was essential for a confession, adding that people in their circle would never wear cheap, few-hundred-dollar knockoffs. Driven by an inferiority complex, the side character gritted her teeth and bought an out-of-season luxury dress that looked tacky on her. Now, my card balance was 0, and I was still in debt on my credit line. I stared coldly at the balance and, without hesitation, listed the dress on a second-hand app. Rule number one of a gold digger: Never spend a single dime for a man. 2. My roommate’s account was also cultivating a “wealthy heiress” persona. On her account, she had a flawless fiancé. Rich and handsome. No matter what she wanted, her fiancé would instantly satisfy her. Because their arranged marriage had only recently been finalized, and wasn’t yet public, she never revealed their identities online. She just frequently did giveaways for her “shippers” in the comments section. The sappy little love stories she wrote easily got tens of thousands of likes each. Actually, she didn’t have that many followers at first. It wasn’t until she posted about the marital home her fiancé gifted her—worth over $500,000 per square meter. The post instantly blew up. I left a comment underneath: [So sweet! Sister, your fiancé treats you so well. I wish I could catch someone like him.] [What type of girls does he like? Wow!] Serena always loved seeing her fans ship them. But when she saw my comment, she frowned. She replied: [His standards are very high. It’s best if you’re talented in various arts and have a high level of education. You have no idea how hard I worked just to get him to notice me.] Then, she liked a comment below hers. [The most important thing is a matching family background.] The comments section was full of crazy shippers. [The heiress gave up studying abroad to get into Capitol Uni just for love.] [Radiant Heiress VS Ice-cold Childhood Sweetheart.] [As long as he turns around, he’ll see the heiress right behind him.] [Patience pays off. After the arranged marriage, the childhood sweetheart’s attitude completely changed. He used to ignore her, but now he brings whatever the heiress wants right to her.] [The heiress and her childhood sweetheart’s families are so rich, yet they still started their own business in college. So ambitious. Not like me, just waiting to die.] As the only person who knew the original plot. I knew their real romance line started after my cannon fodder side character was written off. They were following the “marriage first, love later” trope. Right now, the male lead was only nice to the female lead because of their arranged marriage. Heh. That dog couple was using the original host as a stepping stone. 3. I twitched the corner of my mouth and uploaded a video of myself playing the piano on my profile. An essential quality of a top-tier gold digger: proficiency in various high-society talents. Whether it was piano or equestrianism, I had learned them all. I replied: [I know a lot actually, been working hard on learning lately~ Hope I can catch my crush.] Many people thought my comment had a hint of “green tea” style comparison and clicked into my profile. Subsequently, they teasingly replied: [What a coincidence, the little ‘green tea’ is also a Capitol Uni beauty.] [Probably just faked the IP to Capitol Uni. Let’s see your student ID.] I didn’t bother responding. Because very soon, a Capitol Uni alumnus recognized that the background of my first photo was exactly a university dorm room. My most liked post was the faceless selfie. The caption: [So conflicted, my friend keeps telling me to confess to her childhood sweetheart. What should I do?] Serena would never connect me to her shy, gullible little roommate. Because the original host didn’t know how to do anything. A while ago, she dragged the original host to her birthday party to play the piano, and because she wasn’t proficient, she embarrassed herself. She encouraged the original host to play the piano on stage to attract the male lead’s attention, so the original host went up and played “Happy Birthday.” The female lead’s best friends mocked her terrible playing, and Harrison Ford stepped in to smooth things over. From then on, the original host harbored a secret crush on the male lead. She didn’t know the male lead’s fiancée was Serena herself, and under her instigation, she foolishly went to confess. In the end, Harrison publicly announced his fiancée on the spot. The original host lost all face in front of the entire school. Later, the female lead wrote a “bitter secret crush” story about how she always felt inferior because her roommate was so beautiful. This caused the original host to be seen as a scheming “green tea” by everyone, ultimately leading to her being cyberbullied to death. The bullet comments jumped up: [The side character is so scheming. Is she just trying to get attention?] [It’s fine. Wait until she gets rejected by the male lead tonight; she won’t be able to act up ever again.] Serena wanted to chat with Harrison. But she noticed his follower count had suddenly increased by one. Suppressing her anger, she clicked into my profile. Glancing over it, she saw the photos and a hint of dissatisfaction flashed in her eyes. She kept feeling that the figure looked indescribably familiar. And my process of building the account was almost identical to hers. If it wasn’t posting talents, it was posting about a secret crush. Harrison’s secret account was only known to a few close friends, and she had deliberately shown off by pinning it in their group chat. She guessed it might be some young heiress who had caught wind of it. So, she directly tagged Harrison under my photo: [@HarrisonFord Nice body, do you like it?] Harrison casually lingered on the screen for a second, the photo flashing by. [Boring…] Serena saw the reply and laughed out loud. She then shared this as a joke within her circle. The bullet comments jumped with schadenfreude. [Hahaha, the male lead just said ‘boring’ after seeing the carefully taken photos by the female side character.] [LMAO, all that effort for nothing.] [Just a clownish side character. If it weren’t for her confession, the male lead probably wouldn’t have agreed to make the female lead’s fiancée status public.] [After all, the male lead is currently developing the game “Path to Immortality” behind his family’s back. It’s still in the closed beta phase, and he doesn’t want any extra trouble.] [Love grows after marriage~ The male lead isn’t actually frigid. After marriage, the female lead will be terrified by the kinky stuff that dog male lead comes up with.] [The male lead’s family are all old-fashioned. They oppose him making games. His childhood sweetheart is the only one who truly understands him in the future.] [In the future, the male lead’s game will be a massive hit, becoming a national phenomenon. Even the streamers who broadcasted it early on made tens of millions.] I was extracting information from the bullet comments. A few days ago, I had already applied for the closed beta qualification for “Path to Immortality” on the official website. Serena didn’t know about the game’s existence yet. Using the game to approach Harrison was the perfect entry point. 4. My game ID remained [A Cup of Green Tea]. I curled my lips, switching screens to send messages to Harrison while grinding levels in the game. In the original text, the supporting male character, Carter Hayes, was also grinding mobs here. He was the male lead’s roommate, and they ran in the same circles. Back then, after reading the female lead’s “inferiority complex” story, he mistakenly thought the original host was intentionally trying to be the other woman, and cursed her the harshest online. Stupid, reckless, and self-proclaimed righteous. Perfect to use as a tool. I targeted Carter, teamed up with him, and then stole his mob right at the final hit. I opened my mic and said in a cutesy voice: “Thank you, big brother.” Carter’s hand shook, his victorious smile freezing on his face. Harrison looked at his phone as a message popped up from his good buddy complaining: [Bro, some highly skilled cross-dressing guy stole my mob! I lost my ‘First Kill of the Server’ title!] [I hate this! That person named ‘A Cup of Green Tea’ or whatever is at the top of the leaderboard now! So shameless!] The bullet comments jumped up: [The female side character’s methods are so low! Who steals the last hit like that!] [She just wants to intentionally attract the supporting male character’s attention. Stop dreaming, he only likes innocent, pure girls.] After following Harrison, I only sent him one message: [Thank you for helping me out before, Harrison~ Can I treat you to a meal tonight?] Then, I posted a screen recording of the game with the “Path to Immortality” tag on my new account. [The experience in this game is amazing!] The smooth controls, combined with a hype edit and background music, quickly gained traction. Harrison looked at the familiar ID with a hint of surprise on his face. He clicked on my profile picture. The first thing he clicked on was the game recording I had edited. The thumbnail was the post-match screen of Carter getting his mob stolen. The bullet comments jumped: [LMAO, the male lead is a dead straight guy, only interested in games.] [Suddenly relieved, the male lead definitely won’t pay much attention to the female side character.] [Even if the female side character is good at games, so what?] At the end of the game video. He unexpectedly heard a sticky, seductive: “Thank you, big brother.” The video’s bullet comments also suddenly spiked here. Harrison’s finger paused slightly. Then he dragged the progress bar back a bit. And listened again. In the original text, he was a closet audiophile. He only discovered this trait when he was in bed with the female lead. I intentionally recorded this voice at the end of the video. I bet he would watch it to the end. The bullet comments were all cursing— [What the hell is the female side character being so slutty for!] Harrison restrained himself and only listened once more before exiting the video. On my profile, there was only one full-body photo, and it was from the back. The composition was excellent, the body proportions were perfect, and I hadn’t elongated my legs. Logically, he should have exited the profile. But he took a second look, feeling it looked somewhat familiar. He then clicked into the newly posted video from today. It was a clip of me playing a piano piece, the fluid music pouring out. The caption was: [If my confession fails today, I’ll change my name to ‘Daisy the Scumbag Beater.’] He suddenly guessed who the woman behind the screen was. Because Serena had just sent him a message. [Come back to the dorm tonight. My little roommate has something to tell you.] Harrison: [Daisy again? Didn’t you tell her about our relationship?] Serena replied vaguely: [It’s understandable for a young girl to have a crush. You can just reject her privately when the time comes.] He tried to search his memory for anywhere he might have offended Daisy. The only memory that remained was the awkward “Happy Birthday” song she had played last time. In his perception, apart from her beauty, Daisy didn’t have any memorable traits; she would stutter as soon as she got close to him. Online, however, she was much more proactive. Logically, he shouldn’t have agreed to have a private dinner with me. But he hesitated. He first clicked into the piano video and commented: [Just started learning? You’re progressing very fast.] The bullet comments flew by. [??? Why is the male lead giving the female side character the time of day?] [Pretentious! The female lead has been learning piano since she was a kid. How can the female side character even compare!] I replied with a cute emoji, lying through my teeth: [Yeah, just started learning. Even the teacher praised me for having a talent for it.] [Besides, I learn everything super fast!] Harrison looked at the “scumbag” in the caption, his finger pausing for a moment before he found the chat box and replied to my message. [I’ll pick you up downstairs at 5 PM.] The time Serena had scheduled with him was 8 PM. He thought that rejecting me privately a bit earlier might be more appropriate. He didn’t think the tiny ripple he felt just now would make him betray his fiancée. The male lead in the original text had always been principled, so the female side character’s confession tonight was bound to fail. What I needed to do now was to pull myself from the position of the “other woman” to that of an innocent victim. I curled my lips and replied with a cute emoji: [Okay! (Heart hands)] Then I sent another message. [Could we not order anything too expensive?] [Kitten begging gif.] Harrison looked at the message and raised an eyebrow. I sent a screenshot, acting pitifully. [My roommate said I had to buy a nice dress, and then I ran out of money.] The screenshot was of an overpriced “idiot tax” dress that Serena had highly recommended, along with my payment page showing $160,000. Harrison looked at the bright red dress and remained silent for a moment. Within three seconds. He replied: [Send your card number.] I didn’t play hard to get and quickly sent it over. My bank card received a deposit of $200,000. I curled my lips into a smile. The bullet comments started cursing. [Not only a scheming ‘green tea’, but also a gold digger!] [The fiancée’s mess, the male lead is taking responsibility to clean it up. This makes total sense! It’s definitely not because he’s interested in the female side character!] [Didn’t the female side character sell the dress?! She even lied to the male lead! How cheap!] At this time, Serena was replying to fans’ comments. Fans were very curious about her boyfriend’s true identity. She replied to a shipper in the comments, [He doesn’t like crowds. I’ll see if I can find a childhood photo of us.] Serena’s comment with the photo instantly became the top comment. My comment hung in second place. The bullet comments rejoiced: [Childhood sweethearts are the best!] I scoffed. Knowing each other for ten years, if it was true love, they would have been together long ago. Why would the female lead resort to such methods? Logically, men with partners aren’t within my target range, but if they come looking for trouble, that’s a different story. 5. Today was the first day of the closed beta, so not many people had spent money on microtransactions yet. As soon as Harrison logged into the game, he saw a familiar name suddenly shoot up the “Whale Leaderboard.” The ID [A Cup of Green Tea] was sitting pretty at number two. Number one was Carter. And he had been pushed down to number three. Thinking of how Daisy had just pitifully claimed she had no money, he couldn’t help but twitch his brow. He knew Daisy’s family background; she absolutely couldn’t afford this kind of spending. It was one thing to play the game because she liked him. But watching her be lured by the game into reckless spending was another matter entirely. The bullet comments were all cursing me for being a spendthrift. Meanwhile, Harrison sent me a message. [I’m here.]

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At two in the morning, I climbed through Arthur Sterling’s window and pierced his nipple. He looked like he wanted to bite me to death. Later, after high school graduation, I broke my promise to monopolize him for the rest of his life. I went to a university thousands of miles away from him. Seven years later, we met again at a gala. He looked at me with eyes that suggested I was a complete stranger. I thought whatever we had was long over. Until I accidentally tripped into his arms and felt something hard press against me from beneath his shirt. 1 I looked up at him in shock. Arthur was clearly stunned for a moment, too. “You… you still kept it?” Before I even finished my sentence, Arthur gritted his teeth and said: “Don’t flatter yourself. It’s not the one you put there.” Hearing his words, I lowered my eyes and nodded: “Okay. I understand.” Makes sense. How could he possibly still have it? Arthur turned and walked away first. I downed the wine in my glass in one gulp. The Arthur Sterling of today was no longer the poor kid from back then. Just by standing there, countless people flocked to him. Case in point: the moment he stepped away, a crowd swarmed him, trying to strike up a conversation. I let out a bitter laugh. Before I could even move, someone linked their arm through mine. “Hey, why did you walk away so suddenly?” I blinked and looked at my date, who was gazing at me affectionately. Look at my memory. I almost forgot I brought a date tonight. Say what you will, but guys are naturally proactive. We barely exchanged two words before he dragged me into a private lounge. I sat on the sofa, not even having the time to raise my hand to stop him. Bang! The lounge door was kicked open. Arthur strode in. He grabbed my date, who was busy unbuttoning my shirt, and threw him to the floor with one swift motion. “All these years later, and you still have zero shame.” Arthur glared at me, his eyes bloodshot. I let him bite my lip, running my hand through his hair, thinking: All these years later, and you’re still this impulsive. He still completely loses it when someone else touches me. 2 The first time I heard the name Arthur Sterling, I thought: This guy is definitely going to be a CEO someday. Hell, maybe he’s rich right now? But I was wrong. The first time I saw Arthur, he was wearing ratty sneakers that were falling apart, carrying a clean but clearly ancient backpack. His face was expressionless, cold as ice. “Arthur Sterling. Eighteen.” That was his self-introduction. That’s when I remembered. Last night, at my lavish 18th birthday bash, one of my boys mentioned we were getting a new kid in class today. I knew exactly what kind of person I was. And I never hid it. Too many people knew who I was. Too many people wanted to suck up to me. Living by the philosophy of “enjoy life while you can,” I generously welcomed them all with open arms. But Arthur was different. He was interesting. He managed to completely ignore me sitting right next to him for two whole weeks. After two weeks, I realized he really had zero interest in me. So, for the first time in my life, I made the first move. “Hey, wanna be friends?” I smiled and held my hand out to Arthur. Growing up, whenever I smiled like that, no one ever refused me. “Sorry. Not interested.” That was Arthur’s reply. Everyone who knew me knew I was a complete delinquent, a rich punk who did whatever he wanted. But it was my first time actually trying to force someone’s hand. After a few failed attempts to chat him up, I had my boys pin Arthur against the wall in the bathroom. In front of everyone, I grabbed him by the neck and kissed him hard. After that, Arthur’s peaceful days were over. Forget just our class; wasn’t there anyone in the whole school who didn’t want to get on my good side? When I had a new flavor of the week by my side, Arthur—the guy I used to bully—became everyone’s favorite target. His chair was thrown out the window. His textbooks were shredded. A few times, while walking back to class with my new fling, I saw Arthur with fresh bruises on his face. Of course, I was too busy having fun back then. I had no idea all of this was because of me. I didn’t truly get to know Arthur until one specific night. 2 (Part 2) Even though I was a delinquent, I rarely ate street food. Because my mom was always in my ear, nagging about how dirty and unregulated those food trucks were. I actually listened to my mom. But one of my boys was having a birthday, and he said he wanted me to go get street tacos with him. Being the fiercely loyal friend I am, how could I deny his birthday wish? That night, I ordered practically the entire menu from the taco stand for him. The guy bringing our food was Arthur. His face was just as cold while serving food. I guessed people probably gave him a hard time at work, too. If you’re poor and act all high and mighty, you’re not going to survive out here. But I didn’t bully him that night. I had already kissed him to assert my dominance; I didn’t have a fetish for endless bullying. But one of the guys with me started talking. “I heard he works three jobs a night.” I paused my mobile game and laughed: “Three jobs? How much can he even make?” “A hundred bucks? Probably not even that. I heard it from someone else—his mom died, his dad remarried, and his stepmom thought he was in the way, so they transferred him here. His family was dirt poor to begin with, and all their money goes to his dad and stepmom’s new kid. They probably never even planned on sending him to college.” I don’t know what I was feeling at that moment. But I knew that when my dad was dead broke working three jobs a day, he had my mom standing behind him. Arthur only had himself. From that day on, out of pity, I started paying attention to Arthur. 3 Right before midterms, the school handed out forms to everyone. The form asked if we “voluntarily” wanted to purchase supplementary study guides. These kinds of forms—asking if you’re “voluntary”—basically mean you don’t have a choice. Only one person in the entire class checked “No.” When the homeroom teacher asked the person who checked “No” to stand up, I already knew who it was. I counted in my head. Seven seconds later, Arthur stood up. He still had bruises on his face from some unknown fight. He remained expressionless, just pressing his lips tightly together. Much later, after knowing him for a long time, I found out: When Arthur is upset, he presses his lips together. Those seven seconds… that was his pride. After class, I went to the teacher’s office. The homeroom teacher was still holding the form with “No” checked, talking to another teacher. “Isn’t he just deliberately embarrassing me? Who can’t afford fifty bucks for study guides these days? If he’s really that broke, why is he even in school?!” I snatched the form right out of his hand, grabbed a pen, and changed the “No” to a “Yes.” “I’ll pay for his study guides.” That was the first time I stuck my neck out for Arthur. After school, I carried his set of study guides into the classroom and slammed them onto his desk. He looked up at me, his voice cold: “I didn’t buy these.” Even though I guessed he wouldn’t accept them, I still found it annoying. “Buy one get one free. I don’t need ’em, so they’re yours.” Looking back now, I was such an idiot back then. Who would believe an excuse like that? Arthur didn’t even look at me again. He stood up to leave. I had no idea why he hated me so much. But at the time, I just wanted him to take the books. So I grabbed his wrist and forcefully kissed his cheek. “There. Now you didn’t get them for free.” … Arthur ended up keeping them. Not because he agreed to use a kiss as collateral. But because I told him if he didn’t take them, I’d have my guys drag him into the woods tomorrow and force them on him. Arthur probably actually believed me. But I was just messing around. Sigh. I was such a bastard. 4 The guy who didn’t buy the study guides ended up with study guides. This became the new excuse to bully Arthur. When I walked into the classroom this time, I didn’t have my flavor of the week with me. Because yesterday, to deliver Arthur’s books, I stood my date up. A few guys in the class were surrounding Arthur. They were holding his study guides, ripping them up page by page right in front of his face. Shreds of paper fluttered down like snow. I grabbed a chair and smashed it into the guy tearing the book. The classroom went dead silent. I stepped forward, grabbed the guy by the hair, stepped on his stomach, and said: “You dare rip up the books I gave him? Do you have a death wish?” The guy and I ended up in the principal’s office. One phone call from my mom, and I was released without a scratch. I was let out while classes were still going on. When I got back to my classroom, I saw Arthur standing outside in the hall. The homeroom teacher had kicked him out, saying the fight between me and that guy was all his fault. I ruffled my hair, stood in front of him, and said: “Damn, why don’t you fight back when people mess with you?” Arthur looked at me, his eyes colder than ice: “Didn’t you order them to do it?” … He actually thought I was the mastermind. That I was just playing some twisted game with him all along. If that’s what Arthur thought… Then from now on, no matter who bullied him… The blame would fall squarely on my head. Arthur, you play hardball. The one thing I, Liam Vance, cannot tolerate in this life is being misunderstood. To dispel Arthur’s suspicions, I became his most aggressive protector in the entire school. If someone bullied him, I beat them up. If someone mocked him, I beat them up. If someone was passive-aggressive to him, I beat them up. After fighting left and right, the principal’s phone was nearly blown up by my mom’s calls. Finally, thanks to my relentless brawling, my mom had to come down to the school. She looked at me, nursing a few minor cuts from fighting so much, and then looked at Arthur, who I had protected flawlessly. She sighed and said: “I’ve never seen you care about someone this much.” Care? Both Arthur and I froze. Before my mom left, she gave me a huge bag of snacks and told me to share them with my friends. I shoved all the snacks into Arthur’s arms. 5 No one at school dared to bully Arthur anymore. Not even the stray dogs on the street dared to bark at him. Ever since my mom came that day, Arthur stopped being so repulsed by me. Because I could finally put my arm around his shoulder. Turns out, treating Arthur well meant I could get closer to him. I was incredibly smug about it. Over time, treating Arthur well became a habit. Whenever I bought something, I’d buy an extra for Arthur. If I found a good restaurant, I’d bring Arthur next time. When my mom hired top-tier private tutors for me, I brought the tutors to Arthur’s tiny apartment so we could study together. Then, on the finals, Arthur ranked 1st in our grade. I ranked 6th from the bottom. My mom said there was progress; at least I wasn’t dead last anymore. The moment I truly wanted to claim Arthur for myself was during winter break that year. During the holidays, every family was celebrating and bustling with noise. I FaceTimed Arthur to say Happy New Year. He was buried in practice exams and just replied, “Happy New Year.” It was completely silent where Arthur was. I had been to his place many times. I knew he lived alone in a rundown, tiny apartment his grandmother left him before she passed. I suddenly had an idea. I hung up the phone, packed a suitcase, and bolted out the door. My mom asked where I was going. I said I was going to find Arthur. My mom said “Oh,” and then suddenly realized: “You’re flying to the East Coast?!” … Winter on the East Coast is brutally cold. When I got off the plane, my legs were shaking uncontrollably. At two in the morning, I knocked on Arthur’s door. Listening to his approaching footsteps, I felt like my heart was going to pound out of my chest. When Arthur opened the door, I threw my arms open and smiled: “Happy New Year!” I had a whole speech prepared, something about “With me here this New Year, you won’t be lonely!” But I never got to say it. Because Arthur blocked my mouth. He grabbed the back of my head and slammed the door shut with a loud bang. That night, he kissed me until my legs gave out. 6 I didn’t know what kind of relationship Arthur and I had. But after that night, I became a little addicted to him. I spent almost the entire winter break at his place. “Are we really not going to kiss?” became my catchphrase. Arthur would be doing practice tests, and I’d sit next to him asking, “Are we really not going to kiss?” He’d look at me and not say a word. A while later, he’d turn a page of his test. “Come here.” I’d instantly lean in and get a brief, intimate moment. At that time, we weren’t officially together, but the vibe was definitely more than friends, constantly teasing my heart. Once school started again, things completely changed. I had never wished more that I wasn’t a playboy. And the other problem was, I had too many friends. Today it was this guy’s birthday, tomorrow that guy’s party. Compared to hanging out with Arthur every single day during winter break… Once school started, I barely made it to his place once every two weeks. But Arthur never reacted, so I assumed he didn’t care. Until my “first love” transferred to our school. Truth is, I had absolutely zero romantic feelings for my “first love.” We were just friends who hung out a bit more often, and somehow the rumor mill branded him my “first love.” But that’s how high school is. The slightest rumor about me would spawn eight hundred different versions. Among them, the version where I was hopelessly pining for my “first love” was the most popular. Arthur still didn’t seem to care. He just coldly and ruthlessly did his practice problems. So I didn’t bother explaining. “Liam, it’s my birthday today. Karaoke tonight, you coming?” I looked up from my desk at my “first love.” To be honest, I didn’t even remember it was his birthday. But I had been to countless birthday parties for him over the last couple of months. And according to my schedule, I was supposed to go to Arthur’s place today. “I’ve got stuff to do today, I can’t make it. I’ll have someone drop off a gift for you later.” Hearing that, my “first love’s” voice instantly softened: “But it’s no fun if you don’t come. It’s fine, just hang out for a bit. You can leave when you need to, please?” “What time?” “Six.” Six. I checked my phone. I usually went to Arthur’s at eight. I had time. So I nodded: “Fine.” … 7 At 9:00 PM, I stood outside Arthur’s door. My head was still spinning. If I had known my “first love” wouldn’t let me leave, I wouldn’t have gone at all. Now look what happened. I dragged it out until now, cutting my time with Arthur short again. I knocked on Arthur’s door. Because I was pretty drunk, I didn’t even hear his footsteps before the door opened. Then, an ice-cold voice dropped on my head: “What are you doing here?” I looked up groggily. What do you mean, what am I doing here? I’m here to kiss you. I stepped forward, grabbed his hand, and went up on my tiptoes to kiss him. But I didn’t kiss him. Instead, he grabbed me by the neck. Arthur looked at me, his voice so deep it sounded like he hated me: “Liam, do you know how dirty you are?” … Me? Dirty? I kicked the door Arthur slammed in my face several times. He was really that heartless, just throwing me outside. And calling me dirty. I gave Arthur the silent treatment. If he was disgusted by me, I wasn’t going to press my hot face against his cold ass. Plenty of people liked me. Why should I only try to please Arthur Sterling? I had a new flavor of the week, one after another. Every day, I’d bring a new fling into the classroom to flirt. But the truth is, I didn’t even kiss any of them. Ever since I kissed Arthur, I never kissed anyone else again. I didn’t even have any intimate contact with them. But Arthur actually called me dirty. I paraded a bunch of guys right in front of Arthur, and he had zero reaction. But the moment he got close to someone else, I lost it. 8 It was a quiet, nerdy kid from the class next door. I don’t know when it started, but he was always walking home with Arthur after school. He was also constantly coming to Arthur with homework questions. Watching from the sidelines, I practically ground my back teeth to dust. Why. Why, why, why. Why call me dirty and then go get cozy with someone else? Later, one of my boys booked a private room at a club and called me over. I knew him from middle school. We had one thing in common: he liked guys too. In the middle of the night, he started telling me how much he liked his new boyfriend. He even mentioned he got him a nipple piercing. “What’s the point of that? Isn’t it uncomfortable?” I frowned, completely unable to understand. Until he said one more thing: “Every time I kiss him and see it, I feel like it’s proof that he’s mine.” … At 1:00 AM, I climbed onto Arthur’s balcony and started knocking on his window. If I knocked on the door, he could lock me out. He couldn’t do that with the window, because I could break the window. The literal coercion involved in doing that deed left me with lingering fear long after. But looking at that thing… I selectively ignored Arthur’s murderous glare. “Are you done throwing your tantrum? Now leave.” He stood up and pulled his T-shirt down. I knew I had definitely hurt him just now. And I knew exactly what what I did tonight represented. So I grabbed his hand and said: “Can we stop fighting? I…” I paused for a second and said: “I won’t mess around with other people anymore.” … If I had known that’s all it took to coax Arthur, I would have said it from the start. When I woke up the next morning, I took Arthur to a professional piercer and a doctor. After all, I wasn’t a professional. I was crazy last night, but I was still worried about infection. Once everything was properly handled, Arthur and I went back to school.

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I am the true heiress who was switched at birth. On the day I was supposed to reunite with my biological family, my ex-boyfriend was actually there. I gasped in surprise: “Liam?” My biological mother, completely unaware of the gravity of the situation, asked with a bright smile, “Mia, you know Liam?” I blurted out without thinking: “Of course. He’s my ex-boyfriend.” Seeing the color instantly drain from my biological mother’s face, it clicked. My ex-boyfriend was now my biological older brother. And so… The fake heiress, who had been gearing up for an Oscar-worthy performance, froze awkwardly. The youngest brother, who was ready to scream “I only acknowledge my old sister,” lost his voice. My biological father suffered a massive asthma attack on the spot, leaving my biological mother scrambling to feed him his inhaler. Then there was me, completely petrified. And my expressionless ex-boyfriend-turned-biological-brother. 1 “Mom, Dad, are they into some twisted sibling romance?” The first to react was the fake heiress, Serena. She pointed at me and Liam, her eyes wide, her lips parted in shock. After a few seconds of silence, I raised my hand and pointed at Liam. “He seduced me first.” Liam’s eyes darkened, staring fixedly at me. One second, two seconds… I suddenly burst into loud laughter. “Just a joke to lighten the mood!” “Mom, Dad, honestly, before I walked through that door, I didn’t know my ‘big brother’ at all, haha.” Liam smiled too. The corners of his lips slowly curled up as he looked at the dumbfounded Serena and the little brother. Then he looked at our parents, who had just caught their breath. “Isn’t it funny? Why aren’t you laughing?” After two seconds of silence, the youngest brother, Leo, who was still in high school, was the first to laugh out loud. “Hahaha, that joke was hilarious! I almost believed it.” “Dad, Mom, Serena, why aren’t you laughing?” He didn’t notice the look his parents and Serena were giving him—like they were looking at an idiot. The atmosphere instantly cooled down again. Once again, I regretted running my mouth the moment I walked in and saw a familiar face, purely out of surprise. “Let’s eat first,” Mr. Sterling said, breaking the awkward silence. Mrs. Sterling also recovered, affectionately taking my hand and leading me toward the dining room. “Mia, we weren’t sure about your tastes yet, so we had the chef prepare a little bit of everything.” She pulled me to sit between her and Mr. Sterling. “Mia, try this.” Mrs. Sterling picked up a piece of shrimp and was about to put it in my bowl. Liam looked over and frowned slightly. “Mom, Mia can’t eat shrimp. She’s allergic to seafood.” 2 The lobster dropped from her chopsticks onto the table. Mrs. Sterling stared blankly at Liam, the tremor in her voice incredibly obvious. “Liam, how do you know your sister is allergic to seafood?” My gaze collided violently with Liam’s, then quickly darted away. My scalp tingled. Fortunately, my brain worked fast, and I quickly came up with an explanation. “Mom, Liam and I both went to Ivy University, and we were in the same club before.” “During a club dinner, I mentioned my seafood allergy. Liam has a good memory, he must have remembered it from then.” Actually, no. It was because of Liam that I found out I was allergic to seafood. Before I met him, I had never eaten seafood. The moment I swallowed the first bite of shrimp, my heart started racing wildly, my chest tightened, and my cheeks flushed hot. I thought it was the thrill and excitement of being confessed to by love at first sight. It felt like my heart was skipping a beat. But the moment Liam finished his confession… Before I could even say “I like you too,” I was suffocated by my increasingly rapid heartbeat, my vision went black, and I passed out. When I woke up in the hospital, I had been on an IV drip for three days. “Is what your sister said true, Liam?” Mrs. Sterling was half-skeptical, her hand unconsciously tightening around her chopsticks. Liam’s expression didn’t show a single ripple. “Yeah. What she said is true.” 3 For the rest of the dinner. Besides Liam and me, the other three had complex expressions, glancing at each other from time to time. After dinner, Mrs. Sterling took my hand and led me upstairs. “Mia, before you came back, Mom prepared a few rooms for you. Take a look, which one do you like?” I didn’t have many demands for a room; as long as it had a bed that could fit me, it was fine. But after looking at several rooms decorated in a sickeningly sweet pink, I realized I did have demands. So, when passing by a room with a minimalist design, I stopped. “I’ll take this one.” “No!” Mr. and Mrs. Sterling rejected me in unison. I was confused. “Why not?” They exchanged a conflicted look. “This room is too small.” “This room isn’t suitable for you.” It was Serena, eager to stir up drama, who explained: “Sister, the room directly across from this one is Liam’s bedroom.” I looked at Mrs. Sterling, and she guiltily avoided my gaze. I was understanding and smiled, “Then I’ll pick another one.” Finally, I chose a room that was quite out of the way. Of all the empty rooms, it was the furthest from Liam’s. The two rooms weren’t even on the same floor. One was on the second floor, the other on the fourth. Unless Liam was sleepwalking or specifically looking for me, he wouldn’t pass by my bedroom. “I’m heading out,” Liam, who had been silent the whole time, suddenly spoke up. I watched him walk toward me, then expressionlessly bypass me. “There’s a problem with a project that needs urgent handling. I won’t be coming back tonight.” 4 After drying my hair, I prepared for bed. There was a sudden knock on my bedroom door. The person outside didn’t speak, so I was sure it wasn’t Mr. or Mrs. Sterling. I didn’t want to answer, but the knocking grew louder. I frowned, got up, and opened the door. Standing outside was indeed Leo. His tone was aggressive. “I knocked for ages! Why did it take you so long to open the door?” Ever since I walked in, this kid hadn’t given me a single good look. Naturally, I had no patience for him either. “Knocking on my door in the middle of the night. What do you want?” Leo lifted his chin, his face full of disdain. “Let me make this clear right now. I only have one sister, and that’s Serena.” “Don’t delude yourself into thinking I’ll ever acknowledge you as my sister.” Provoking me right to my face? How dare he be so arrogant. My patience completely ran out. I raised my hand. Slap. A firm slap landed on Leo’s face. I sneered, staring straight at him. “Two choices. Either I’m your sister, or I’m your sister-in-law. Pick one.” Leo held his cheek, his eyes full of absolute disbelief at my slap. He froze for four or five seconds before my words finally registered in his brain. His expression instantly crumbled. “Wh-what do you mean? Are you and my brother really…” I raised my hand, pretending I was going to slap him again. Leo panicked and shrank back two steps in fear. Recovering, his mouth twitched slightly, his eyes a mix of panic and grievance. After holding it in for a long time, he gritted his teeth and squeezed out one word: “Sister.” I was satisfied with Leo’s tactfulness. “Good. That’s a good boy.” “Little brother, go back to sleep.” Leo turned to leave, but after taking four or five steps, he abruptly turned back. I raised an eyebrow. He stared at me intensely, his voice low and heavy. “You and my brother are biological siblings.” “Biological! Don’t do anything crazy.” It wasn’t until I heard the sound of Leo’s door closing downstairs that I looked up toward the corner of the hallway. “Big brother, didn’t you say you weren’t coming back tonight?” 5 Liam walked out from the corner. Those familiar eyes were completely shrouded by the shadow of his brow bone, making it impossible to read his emotions. He kept his gaze low, casually loosening the tie at his neck. “Handled it early.” “Haven’t seen you in two years, so I came up to say hello.” His tone was very flat. As he approached, a faint scent of alcohol drifted over. I asked him, “Are you drunk?” He denied it quickly: “No.” A moment of silence. My brain inappropriately started churning out random thoughts. I vaguely remembered a phrase that perfectly suited our current atmosphere. It was something like— Lovers destined to become siblings. Realizing I was laughing internally, I quickly collected myself and played along with his previous words. “It really has been two years.” After we broke up, I unilaterally cut all contact with him. Calculating it, it had been exactly two years, one month, and nineteen days. During the pause in our conversation, I instinctively studied him. Liam noticed my gaze and subtly straightened his posture. I looked at him very seriously. Compared to two years ago, Liam was much more mature. Somewhere between the bright clarity of a youth and the steady maturity of a man, he was even more dazzling. He truly lived up to being the man I fell in love with at first sight two years ago. Compared to when we first met, there were even more things about him that made my heart race. Thinking this, the dirty thoughts in my brain unconsciously kicked my rationality to the curb. My unfiltered mouth blurted out, “I feel like you’ve gotten even sexier.” “Cough, cough.” Realizing what I had just said, I almost choked on my own saliva. At the same time, my rationality returned, and I quickly backed away to distance myself from Liam. I lost my mind. My current identity is his biological sister! Fire prevention, theft prevention, incest prevention. “Stop!” I rejected his movement to approach me. “We’ve said our hellos. You can go back to your room now.” His eyes darkened considerably. “You’re the one who provoked me.” I was very candid. “That’s because I forgot my identity for a second.” “Liam, I am now just your sister.” “If there’s nothing else, let’s call it a night.” Today, Mr. Sterling had an asthma attack right on the spot from the shock of hearing that Liam and I used to date. My mind went blank at the time, and the fear only set in afterward. Older people can’t handle too much shock. If he found out that in the middle of the night, Liam and I were secretly talking behind everyone’s backs, his body probably wouldn’t be able to take it. “Give me a strand of your hair.” I didn’t hear him clearly and frowned. “What did you say?” “Give me…” “Liam, Mia, what are you doing?” Mrs. Sterling’s horrified voice suddenly rang out. I turned to look. She was standing at the top of the stairs, looking at us with a pale face. “Mom, what are you doing here?” Liam asked calmly. “I-I got thirsty and came out for some water.” “But it’s almost midnight. Liam, if you have something to say to your biological sister, couldn’t it wait until tomorrow? Why in the middle of the night?” I don’t know if it was just my imagination, but I felt like Mrs. Sterling emphasized the words “biological sister” very heavily. But didn’t Mrs. Sterling have a mini-fridge or a water dispenser in her bedroom? My bedroom had a double-door fridge stocked with ridiculously expensive bottled water. Besides, Mrs. Sterling’s bedroom was on the second floor. Why would she come to the fourth floor for water? Liam lowered his eyes slightly and didn’t answer immediately. After a moment of silence, he explained in a natural tone. “I had a few drinks at the dinner meeting, and felt thirsty when I got back. I don’t know how, but I wandered up to the fourth floor.” “I saw Mia standing at her door, so I came over to say goodnight.” 6 The next day, I had classes in the morning. The Sterling family’s driver dropped me off near the university. I told him not to pick me up at noon. After my two classes ended, I returned to the apartment I had rented a little over a month ago for my internship. I pushed the door open. The person on the bed was sprawled out, sleeping soundly. I dragged the person out from under the covers. “Chloe, it’s 1 PM! Wake up!” “I went to see your family yesterday.” Chloe was dazed and groggy for a moment. When she fully woke up, she quickly sat up and shook my arm. “Yesterday? Wasn’t the meeting scheduled for the 13th? Why did you go early?!” I said exasperatedly: “I told you to stop staying up late. You’ve fried your brain.” “Yesterday was the 13th.” Chloe and I grew up in the same orphanage. The difference was, she had been there since she was a baby. All the children in the orphanage took the director’s surname, “Su”. The day she arrived, the director’s jasmine flowers (Mo-li) were in full bloom, so she was named Su Mo (Chloe). As for me, Mia, I entered the orphanage when I was six, after both my parents died in a car accident. Because our names sounded similar and we were the same age, Chloe and I had stuck together since childhood, becoming each other’s closest family. However, our personalities were complete opposites. A week ago, the orphanage director told Chloe that her biological parents had been found. After hearing the good news, she hugged me and jumped around for ages, her eyes sparkling. “Mia, I have a mom and dad!” But when she found out her parents were the owners of a famous national enterprise… And that there was a fake heiress who had taken her place and lived the high life in the Sterling family for over twenty years, Chloe instantly deflated. Because she had been abducted by human traffickers when she was little, she suffered from severe paranoia. Chloe firmly believed that if she returned to the Sterling family, the fake heiress would definitely harm her. That night, she curled up in bed, flipping through various “true vs. fake heiress” novels while wailing: “It’s over, it’s over. Mia, I know this plotline.” “Classic true vs. fake heiress trope. If I, the true heiress, go back, I’ll definitely get bullied.” Ever since she escaped from the human traffickers, Chloe could only communicate freely and comfortably in front of me and the director. The moment she faced strangers, she would stutter and even have trouble breathing. With a personality like that, people easily thought she was a pushover. “Look at these novels. The fake heiress plays weak to get sympathy, and the family loses their minds and favors her completely.” “A true heiress like me will either get framed or kicked out of the house. Either way, the ending is extremely tragic.” The more Chloe spoke, the angrier she got, flipping the novel on her lap furiously. But her eyes hid a very real, genuine panic. Finally, she made up her mind. “Just in case, I’m not going to reunite with them.” “According to the plot developments in these novels, if I return to the Sterling family, my future will be miserable, and I might even drag you down with me.” But I couldn’t forget the joy she showed when she learned she still had family. So, I took on Chloe’s identity and entered the Sterling family to investigate the situation. To see if the fake heiress felt ashamed towards Chloe and harbored good intentions? To see if the Sterling family would completely favor the fake heiress like in the novels? To see if the members of the Sterling family were all profit-driven, ruthless people who only thought about fighting for power and wealth every second? Currently, aside from Serena and Leo, the other three had a pretty good impression score in my heart. But right now, that wasn’t the main point. Before Chloe could ask about my experience at the Sterling house yesterday, I took a deep breath. “We need to tell your parents the truth earlier than planned.” Chloe’s eyes widened slightly. “Why?” “Because if we don’t switch back soon, your oldest brother is going to be forced to move abroad.”

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I slept with the Supreme Commander of the Federation. My goal was to borrow his S-class pheromones to cure my genetic disease. After the treatment, I ran, casually leaving a single coin on his nightstand. It was an acknowledgment of his… services. I thought my plan was flawless. Until three months later, I was pinned to the ground while buying suppressants in the black market. Arthur pressed his gun against the back of my head, his tone freezing cold: “Finally caught you.” “Ethan, I was very dissatisfied with that one-dollar tip you left that night.” I instinctively shielded my stomach. No other reason. Just that this “job” had resulted in a little surprise. 1 When Arthur caught me, I was throwing up. Leaning against the filthy wall of the black market, I was retching so hard I thought I’d bring up bile. Being pregnant… this whole thing was way too out of bounds for a guy who had been an Alpha for twenty-six years. I should have just stabbed Arthur that night instead of getting soft-hearted and merely using him as an antidote. “Are you done throwing up?” A voice as cold as ice came from above. My spine stiffened. I didn’t need to look up to know who it was. That pheromone scent, like frozen earth after a blizzard—there was no second person in the entire Federation with it. Arthur. The Supreme Commander of the Federation, an S-class Alpha known as the “Mad Dog.” He was also my former partner and my current mortal enemy. I wiped my mouth, slowly stood up straight, turned around, and flashed him a grin. “Well, Commander Arthur. Long time no see. Missed me that much?” Arthur didn’t smile. Behind him stood a fully armed special forces squad, their muzzles pointing uniformly at my head. This kind of lineup was a bit excessive, even for my funeral. Arthur, his black-gloved fingers resting on his holster, ran his dark, brooding gaze over me. Finally, his eyes settled on my stomach. My heart skipped a beat. I was wearing loose clothes, so I wasn’t showing much, but his eyes were as venomous as a snake’s. “Your skills have slipped, Ethan.” “You used to be able to smell me three streets away. Now I’m standing right behind you, and you’re dealing with morning sickness?” He used the term “morning sickness.” Not “nausea.” My pupils contracted slightly, and the dagger in my hand quietly slipped into my palm. “My stomach’s been acting up lately. Ate something bad.” “What, does Commander Arthur care about my diet now?” Arthur let out a cold laugh. The next second, he struck without warning. If it were the old days, I could have gone three hundred rounds with him. But now? First, my legs were weak from throwing up. Second, the aftereffects of my genetic disease, combined with the little vampire in my belly, meant my stamina was currently worse than a Beta’s. I only had time to raise my arm to block. Crack. Sharp pain shot through my wrist. Just like that, he twisted my arms behind my back and slammed me hard against the grimy wall. “Ugh… Arthur, you son of a…” “Shh.” The cold barrel of the gun pressed against the back of my head. Arthur leaned in close to my ear, his tone freezing: “Finally caught you.” “Ethan, I was very dissatisfied with that one-dollar tip you left that night.” 2 I was taken back to Federal Prison No. 3. This place was specifically for S-class felons, known as the “Living Tomb.” And I was enjoying the highest level of treatment—personal interrogation by Arthur. The heat was off in the interrogation room, and it was bone-chillingly cold. I was locked in a specialized interrogation chair, my hands and feet tightly shackled. These shackles could suppress pheromones; if I struggled too much, they would release a high-voltage shock. Arthur sat across from me, slowly and methodically cleaning his gun. It was the birthday present I gave him back in the day. I didn’t expect him to keep it until now, much less plan to use it to shoot me. “Ethan, three years on the run, and this is what you’ve reduced yourself to?” He looked up at me, his gaze critical. I was definitely looking rough right now. I’d been stripped down to a single, thin T-shirt. My abdomen was throbbing dully from the violent struggle earlier. I gritted my teeth, fighting back the waves of nausea welling up in my throat. “I’m doing alright.” I forced a smirk. “Just came back for a family visit, you know.” “Family visit?” Arthur acted like he’d just heard a joke. “Visiting who? That former partner you shot through the shoulder and left in the ruins?” Arthur had a through-and-through scar on his body. I did that. Three years ago, the first signs of my genetic breakdown appeared. To avoid dragging him down, and to find a banned drug only available on the black market, I orchestrated a defection. I deliberately missed his vital organs with that shot, but I didn’t expect him to hold a grudge until now. “That was an accident.” “The gun misfired.” SLAM! Arthur slammed his hand on the table. “An accident?” “And sneaking into my residence, drugging me, and using me like a cheap gigolo for a night—was that an accident too?!” I didn’t expect things to turn out like that either. Three months ago, I desperately needed Arthur’s bone marrow fluid or highly concentrated pheromones as a catalyst for my medicine. I sneaked into his residence, originally planning to just draw a vial of his blood. Who knew I’d walk right into the middle of his explosive rut? The whole room was filled with that maddening scent. As an Alpha whose genes were on the verge of collapse, being stimulated by that top-tier oppressive aura caused an immediate, massive rejection reaction. I went crazy too. Only one thought remained in my mind: I need him. What happened next was a blur. I only remember biting, tangling, and him calling my name in the haze of passion. But I couldn’t admit it. If I admitted it, not only would I lose the cub, I’d lose my life too. “Commander Arthur, you need evidence for those claims.” I stared into his eyes, forcing myself to stay calm. “Your residence is heavily guarded. How could I possibly get in? Besides, I’m an Alpha, you’re an Alpha. How do two rock-hard men sleep together? A sword fight?” Arthur narrowed his eyes. “You’re an Alpha?” He suddenly reached out, his hand moving toward the scent gland on the back of my neck. There was a heavy-duty blocker patch stuck there. “Ethan, your pheromone scent has changed.” “It used to smell like strong liquor, now…” He leaned in closer and sniffed, frowning. “Why does it smell like milk?” 3 A herd of wild horses was trampling through my heart. That was the specific scent of an Omega during pregnancy. Even a blocker patch couldn’t completely hide it. “It’s a new cologne. You wouldn’t get it.” “Is it?” Arthur sneered. His fingers suddenly tightened, ready to rip off the blocker patch. “Then let me smell what brand this cologne is.” “Don’t touch me!” I panicked and struggled violently. If he discovered my scent gland had mutated into an Omega’s, everything was over. The shackles sensed my struggle and instantly released a high-voltage current. Zzzzt—! “Ugh!” Agony ripped through my entire body. My vision went black, and I slumped in the chair, convulsing. The electricity didn’t just shock my nerves; it stimulated my already unstable reproductive cavity. It felt like someone had viciously kicked my stomach. The pain made me curl up, and cold sweat instantly soaked my back. “Ethan!” Arthur didn’t seem to expect me to react this violently. He immediately cut the power and reached out to slap my face. “Stop playing dead! That was nothing!” I didn’t have the energy to play dead. I was in real pain. I could even feel something slowly slipping away. “Medicine…” I gripped his sleeve. “Give me my medicine…” “What medicine?” Arthur’s face changed; he must have realized something was very wrong. My body temperature was dropping rapidly, and my lips had turned a purplish-blue. “I have a genetic disease… I need my suppressants…” I shivered, speaking half-truths. I couldn’t say “pregnancy-preserving drugs.” If I did, it would be two lives lost. Arthur stared at me dead on, his eyes unreadable. Just when I thought he was going to watch me die in pain, he suddenly turned and pulled a syringe from the drawer of the interrogation table. It was a military emergency med-kit. Without hesitation, he injected it into my jugular vein. The liquid pushed in, freezing cold. The pain eased slightly. I gasped for air, like a fish just pulled out of the water. Arthur threw away the syringe and grabbed my chin again. “Ethan, what exactly are you hiding from me?” “I’ve checked your physical data. An S-class Alpha’s constitution wouldn’t collapse from that little bit of electricity.” “Unless…” His gaze moved down again, locking onto my abdomen. It was still spasming from the pain. “Unless your physical structure has mutated.” “Take off your clothes.” “What?” I froze for a second. “I said, take off your clothes.” Arthur stood up straight. “Or do I have to do it for you?” “Right here? Are you crazy, Arthur?” “I do what I want, where I want.” He didn’t give me a chance to refuse, grabbing the hem of my T-shirt directly. Riiiip— The fabric tore. My upper body was exposed to the air. It wasn’t a pretty sight. Because my body was covered in scars. Knife wounds, bullet wounds, burn marks—crisscrossing like an ugly web. Arthur’s gaze didn’t linger on those old scars. He stared at my lower abdomen. There was a slight bulge there. If you didn’t look closely, you’d think it was just relaxed muscle. But Arthur reached out and placed his hand over it. I shuddered, instinctively trying to pull back, but there was nowhere to hide. “What is this?” His voice trembled. It carried extreme shock and disbelief. “A lump? A tumor?” He pressed down slightly. I let out a muffled groan. The little cub inside, as if sensing the approach of its other half’s bloodline, actually moved at that very moment. It was a very faint movement. But Arthur froze completely. “It moved…?” I closed my eyes in despair. It was over. This time, it was really over. “Ethan.” Arthur’s voice was hoarse, laced with desperation. “Are you… pregnant?” “An Alpha… pregnant?” 4 Since I couldn’t hide it anymore, there was no need to keep playing the submissive fool. “Yes.” I opened my eyes and looked at him provocatively. “If you don’t believe me, you can cut it open right now and see if it’s a freak or a miracle.” “Whose is it?” He thought I had been sleeping around with wild men out there, knocked up, and came back just to disgust him. I suddenly found it a bit funny. “It’s not yours, anyway.” I deliberately provoked him. “You know what the black market is like. To stay alive, sometimes you have to pay a price…” “Shut up!” He grabbed me by the throat, his eyes bloodshot. “Ethan, how dare you… how dare you let another Alpha touch you?!” The feeling of suffocation rushed in. My vision started to go black, but a smile still hung on my lips. “Cough… Commander Arthur… we broke up a long time ago… who I sleep with… is none of your damn business…” “I forbid it!” Arthur seemed to have lost his mind, his pheromones violently washing over the entire room. “You are mine! Even if you’re a corpse, you’re mine!” “Who does that bastard child belong to?! I’ll kill him! I’ll tear him to pieces!” His grip tightened. I was really going to be strangled to death. The fetus in my abdomen sensed the mother’s crisis and began to struggle violently. It hurt so much. A hundred times worse than the electric shock just now. “Ugh…” I finally couldn’t hold it in and let out a painful groan. That sound seemed to bring back Arthur’s sanity. He looked at my pale face and my starting-to-dilate pupils, and his hand violently released. “Cough, cough, cough…” I coughed violently, greedily sucking in air. Arthur stumbled back two steps, his chest heaving heavily. He looked at his hands, then at me, curled up in pain, confusion and fear flashing in his eyes. “Ethan…” “Get lost…” I was sweating profusely from the pain, gritting my teeth and cursing: “Arthur, if you want to kill me, just do it… stop torturing me…” “Medic!” Arthur roared toward the door. “Get the military medic in here! Now!” “I dare anyone to come in!” “Arthur, if you dare let anyone else touch me… I’ll die right in front of you.” I still held the broken half of the dagger blade in my hand. I pressed it against my carotid artery. “Let me go.” “Impossible.” Arthur refused without a second thought. “With your physical condition, walking out that door means death.” “Staying here means death!” I stared at him. “Arthur, I’m a mutated Omega from a secondary gender differentiation. This child is a monster; it’s eating my life!” “You need top-tier Alpha pheromones to soothe it. Nobody else can save you.” Arthur calmed down. “Ethan, no matter who this bastard child belongs to, we’re saving your life first.” “Once you’re cured…” A ruthless glint appeared in his eyes. “I will personally abort this abomination, and then I’ll find your wild man and tear him to pieces.” I looked at him. I had a lot of mixed feelings. Are you going to tear yourself to pieces? Idiot. But I didn’t dare say it. This child was his. If he found out the truth, given his obsession with blood purity and his controlling nature, this child wouldn’t live to see tomorrow. And he would lock me up, lock me up for the rest of my life. “Ah—!” A tearing, agonizing pain suddenly erupted in my abdomen. My vision went black, and I completely lost consciousness. But in the last second before I passed out, I heard Arthur’s panicked shouts. “Ethan! Ethan!” And that momentary, trembling embrace that wrapped tightly around me. 5 When I woke up again, I was lying in a hospital bed in the infirmary. There were no shackles on my hands or feet, but there was a collar around my neck. It was the kind of suppression collar with GPS tracking and electric shock capabilities. Arthur sat by the bed, peeling an apple. Seeing I was awake, he cut a slice of the peeled apple and held it to my lips. “Eat.” I didn’t open my mouth, watching him warily. “It’s not poisoned.” He took a bite himself, chewing loudly. Then he said suddenly, “The child is still there.” I froze for a second, instinctively touching my stomach. “Why didn’t you abort it?” Arthur tossed the rest of the apple onto a plate and wiped his hands with a tissue. “The doctor said your reproductive cavity is underdeveloped and the walls are too thin. Forcing an abortion right now carries a 90% chance of massive hemorrhage.” He looked up at me, his eyes cold. “I don’t want you dying on the operating table. That would be letting you off too easy.” “So you’re planning to let me give birth to it?” “Give birth to it, and then I’ll strangle it right in front of you.” A chill ran down my spine. This mad dog would actually do it. I took a deep breath. “Arthur, let’s make a deal.” “I’ll help you find the person who broke into your residence, and you let me and the child go.” Arthur paused his movements. “You know who that person is?” “Of course.” I lied effortlessly. “I saw him in the black market. He’s also an Alpha, very skilled in disguises.” “Oh?” Arthur leaned in close to me. “Then tell me, why does that person have the exact same beautiful peach-blossom eyes as you?” I stopped talking. This bastard was bluffing me. Arthur reached out and gently patted my stomach. “Ethan, do you really think I’m stupid?” “Even though the security footage from that night was deleted, you left behind plenty of biological samples.” “I ran a DNA comparison.” My heart skipped a beat. I was screwed. “The results aren’t out yet.” Arthur slowly added another sentence. “But I have time.” “Until the results are out, you’ll stay here quietly and focus on your pregnancy.” “If you dare to run…” He pointed at the collar on my neck. “This thing can only be unlocked by my fingerprint. If you dare take one step out of this room, it will explode.” “And turn that pretty head of yours into a smashed watermelon.” 6 I was under house arrest. Right under Arthur’s nose. I have to admit, aside from his venomous tongue and ruthless nature, this mad dog really knew how to take care of someone. Three meals a day of top-tier nutritious food, and he watched me finish every bite. He practically gave away his pheromones for free to soothe my restless reproductive cavity. My current body was like a bottomless pit, greedily devouring his pheromones. Sometimes when I woke up in the middle of the night, I’d find him sleeping right next to me. Not back-to-back like we used to. He held me in his arms like a body pillow, his hand resting protectively on my stomach. Even in his sleep, he would unconsciously nuzzle the top of my head with his chin. It gave me an illusion. As if we had never fallen out, as if these three years were just a dream. As if… we really were just a normal Alpha/Omega couple, anticipating the arrival of a new life. But when I was fully awake, I knew this was a dead end. Once that DNA report came out, once he knew this child was his—and also the tool I used to exploit him— What awaited me would undoubtedly be a captivity worse than death. I had to run. The opportunity came quickly. Arthur had to attend a high-level Federation meeting and would be away for three days. He tripled the guards, turning the entire building into an iron fortress. But he underestimated the escape skills of a former S-class agent. On the second night of his absence, I pried open the ventilation duct. The collar was a problem. But I took a gamble. I gambled that Arthur wouldn’t actually blow my head off. I tampered with the collar’s sensor, using a thin wire pulled from the mattress to short-circuit its signal transmitter. I only had three minutes. After three minutes, the system would report an error, and Arthur would receive an alarm. I had to sprint out of this building and jump into the moat within three minutes. Everything went smoothly. Until I climbed out of the vent and stood on the roof, ready to jump. A familiar voice that made my scalp tingle came from behind me. “Ethan.” “Where do you think you’re taking my seed?” I turned around stiffly. In the pouring rain. Arthur hadn’t gone to the meeting. He was wearing that black trench coat, standing in the rain, holding a freshly printed document in his hand. He held up the report, the paper snapping in the wind and rain. “100% match.” He grinned, revealing his stark white teeth. “Ethan, you have some nerve.” “You slept with me, got pregnant with my seed, and then lied to me that it belonged to some wild man?” “Tell me, how should I punish you?” I took a step back, my heels hanging over the edge. Below me was a hundred-meter drop into a rushing river. “Arthur, I don’t owe you anything.” I shouted loudly, my voice torn apart by the wind and rain. “That shot from three years ago, I paid it back! This child… consider it payback too!” “What are you paying me back with?!” Arthur roared furiously, throwing the report aside and charging toward me. “Your body is mine! Your life is mine! This child is mine!” “Get over here!” “In your dreams!” I didn’t want to be his canary anymore, let alone a baby-making machine. I leaned back and spread my arms. Just as Arthur’s fingertips brushed mine, I fell backward. The wind howled past my ears. I saw Arthur lunge to the edge of the roof, half his body leaning out. On that always-calm face, I saw an expression called “despair” for the very first time. “Ethan—!!!” In that moment, I actually felt a twisted sense of satisfaction. So the mad dog feels pain too? Then let him hurt. This was the final bite mark I was leaving him.

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When the story’s “true heroine” appeared, I was already pregnant with Liam Sterling’s child. Unable to fight fate, Liam had once abandoned everything and broken his engagement with her for me. Yet now, the universe forced him to hate me to the bone, finding me repulsive just to look at. Eventually, I got tired. I threw away our tangled love, and even gave up our child. Until six years later, on a late afternoon. A young, tender-faced child knocked on my door. He kept his face perfectly serious like a little adult and said: “My dad doesn’t want me anymore. Can I stay with you?” 1 I froze for a second, not saying a word. Leo pursed his lips, clearly unhappy. Tilting his pretty little face up, he said very seriously: “My teacher said that parents have a responsibility and obligation to raise their children…” The half-open door cut off the rest of his sentence. I stepped slightly to the side and said calmly: “Come in.” The dim, warm light inside illuminated his slightly widened eyes. His eyes flashed inexplicably. He lifted his chin, gave a little “hmph,” and obediently walked inside. After closing the door, I turned around to see Leo looking around curiously. Seeing me look at him, he immediately averted his gaze, nervously gripping his backpack straps. With a tense little face, he said: “My name is Leo Sterling.” It sounded like a self-introduction, but also a reminder that he was the child Liam and I had together. I know. From the very first glance, I knew exactly who he was. Because his face was practically a carbon copy of Liam’s. Seemingly disappointed by my calm reaction, he turned his head away, unhappy, refusing to look at me anymore. I placed his little pastel yellow backpack in the entryway and led him to wash his hands. “Let’s eat first.” Leo obediently said “Oh.” By the time I brought the food out, he had already climbed onto his chair. I asked him why he suddenly came looking for me. Leo buried his head, poking at the bok choy in his bowl. His lowered head was dark and round. His voice was muffled: “I got in a fight with him. He smashed things and told me to get out, saying I could never come back.” So he was just throwing a tantrum and running away from home. Liam would probably come pick him up very soon. Makes sense. After all, six years ago, the Sterling family fought me tooth and nail for Leo’s custody. It got incredibly ugly. There was no way they wouldn’t want him now. My chopsticks paused. I couldn’t quite name the feeling in my heart at that moment. I hadn’t known Leo was coming tonight, so I only had a simple meal of two dishes and a soup. He was a very picky eater. He didn’t eat onions, and he didn’t eat carrots. In the end, he had nothing left to pick from. Leo stared at the mangled bok choy leaf like it had killed his family, stole a guilty glance at me, and swallowed it down. When we first met today, he carried a little bit of arrogance and spoiled pride. Now, seeing him pick at his food and refuse greens, I figured he must be given whatever he wants and deeply loved at the Sterling house. He probably hadn’t suffered any real grievances. I felt a bit relieved. After doing the dishes, I waited for Liam to send someone to pick him up. I waited until 9:30 PM. Six-year-olds get sleepy early. He dug his pajamas out of his backpack, looked around, and pouted: “There’s only one bedroom.” “Am I squeezing into the same bed as you tonight?” I glanced at the clock on the wall. For whatever reason, the Sterling family still hadn’t sent anyone. I had to compromise. “Yeah, you’re sleeping with me tonight.” I thought Leo would throw a fit. After all, my meager one-bedroom apartment was obviously not as comfortable as the Sterling family’s luxurious mansion. But Leo just pressed his lips together, his eyes flashing. After washing his face, he huffed and puffed as he changed into his pajamas, kicking his little legs as he climbed into bed all by himself. Just like at dinner—even though he looked disgusted, he had silently finished the greens I put in his bowl. He wriggled under the covers, making a little mound. He pulled out a fairy tale book from nowhere, peeking his eyes out to look at me, unable to resist rushing me: “Aren’t you going to read me a bedtime story?” He actually looked pretty happy. 2 After putting Leo to sleep, I pulled up Liam’s number. I hesitated for a long time, but still didn’t make the call. Liam and I had been separated for six years. At first, we thought we could fight fate. Back then, my family suddenly went bankrupt. The Sterling family broke our engagement and secretly arranged for Liam to be engaged to Chloe Snow. For me, he disregarded everything and broke off the engagement with Chloe. He even gave up his status as the heir. He took a brutal beating from Old Mr. Sterling as family punishment and couldn’t get out of bed for half a month. Seeing me cry, he endured the pain, offering a lazy smile as he softly coaxed me. I thought everything would be okay. The bankruptcy would pass, Liam would get better, the future would be bright. But it wasn’t. Liam and I got married in secret. Perhaps because of Liam’s unwavering commitment to me from beginning to end, after I got pregnant, I never once considered not keeping the baby. Until right before I gave birth. Enduring the pain, I called him for a long time, but Liam never answered. A neighbor rushed me to the hospital. When I woke up, I saw a cold, indifferent Liam. I didn’t know how a person could change so drastically overnight. It was as if his eyes held nothing but unfamiliarity and disgust for me. Chloe visited me once. From her mouth, I learned the truth about this world. Due to a timing error by the “System,” when the late-arriving “True Heroine” appeared, the “Male Lead” had already developed feelings for someone else. As the price for correcting this, the Male Lead’s mistaken feelings began to invert. However much he loved me before, he would hate me that much now. Chloe looked at me with pity and sorrow. Before leaving, she asked softly: “Have you thought about what will happen to your child in the future?” I suddenly froze, feeling lost. I didn’t know who to hate anymore. Should I hate Liam? But he couldn’t even control his own emotions. Should I hate fate? But what good is hating? I couldn’t change anything. At that time, my parents got into a car accident on their way to the hospital to see me. They were in a coma and might remain in a vegetative state for the rest of their lives. I was on the verge of a breakdown. My mind kept replaying Chloe’s words. I just felt that this bastard of a world was so, so tiring. I pushed open the window. As I looked down, the baby beside my hospital bed suddenly started wailing loudly. I thought hazily: If I die, what will happen to him? Will this world tolerate his existence? Will Chloe abuse him? Or will he end up like me, abandoned by Liam, silently suffering countless grievances, only to eventually die quietly while everyone expects it? My body started trembling. I walked back to the bed, my hands shaking as they hovered over his neck. I wanted to take him with me. But then he stopped crying. His red, teary eyes stared at me longingly, as if no matter where we went, he just wanted to be with his mother. It wasn’t until a nurse and a bodyguard noticed something was wrong, burst into the room, and shoved me hard. I looked down at my trembling hands. Only then did I abruptly realize the absurd thing I had almost done under Chloe’s suggestion. The news quickly reached the Sterling family. Old Mr. Sterling demanded to see me and initiated a custody battle. I wanted nothing anymore. I discarded the Liam who disgusted me, gave up my custody rights, and cleanly signed the divorce papers. I only took two hundred thousand dollars. Youth doesn’t know the taste of sorrow. The young Miss Davis, who used to casually throw around millions, could now find herself driven to a dead end over a few thousand dollars in hospital bills. From beginning to end, Liam never showed up. He despised me so much he wasn’t even willing to look at me one last time. So, I accepted my fate. I threw away our tangled love, and even gave up our child. I let him go, and I let myself go. I only snapped back to reality when a soft little dumpling burrowed his head into my chest. Leo closed his eyes and grunted, curling up softly in my arms, as if he had finally found a comfortable position, sleeping soundly. He uneasily clutched the hem of my shirt tightly, as if terrified that I would disappear the moment he opened his eyes. I looked at that innocent, tender face and couldn’t help but sigh softly. If he knew his mother had wanted to strangle him right after he was born, would he still have come looking for me? He probably would have run as far away from me as possible. 3 By morning, Liam still hadn’t shown up. I had no idea what he was planning. The Sterling family fought so viciously for custody back then, yet now they were acting like they could just toss him away. I woke Leo up early, called an Uber, and took him to school. The preschool he attended wasn’t in the same city as me, but thankfully it was only an hour’s drive away. Before getting out of the car, he made me promise repeatedly that I would pick him up after school, whining and refusing to let go of my hand. Until he saw a specific car parked in front of the preschool. His eyes lit up. He hurriedly dragged me out of the Uber. As we got close, he deliberately slowed down, pretending to casually block the path of a chubby kid who had just gotten out of his car. As if to make sure the kid saw, Leo swung my hand in front of him. Then, very loudly, in a voice everyone could hear, he asked me: “Mom, you’re going to pick me up after school, right?” That was the first time Leo called me “Mom.” Maybe because I was absent for six whole years, he hadn’t even proactively called me “Mom” when he knocked on my door. The chubby kid stared straight at me, looking skeptical: “If you have a mom, why didn’t she drop you off before?” Leo scoffed, his gaze incredibly disdainful: “My mom is busy with work. Today she specifically took time off just to drop me off.” He emphasized the word “specifically.” Holding my hand, he walked to the main gate of the preschool in front of everyone, as if showing off, making sure everyone saw. Before parting ways, he twisted awkwardly and asked one more time: “…You will come pick me up, right?” When I didn’t answer right away, he glared at me, then panicked and whispered: “You promised me in the car. Adults aren’t allowed to lie!” I crouched down with a sigh of resignation, smoothing down his popped collar and ruffling his hair. His hair was dark and soft, feeling nice to the touch. “Okay, I’ll come pick you up.” He couldn’t help but curl his lips upward, but he tried hard to keep them straight. Acting mature, he tilted his chin up and said reservedly: “Mhm, I’ll remember to wait for you.” I only looked away after his figure completely disappeared from my sight. I found a teacher and asked about Leo’s situation at preschool. The teacher hesitated, finally sighed, and complained with a frown: “I know the Sterling family is powerful, and what I say might not matter.” “But Leo’s Mom, no matter how busy you are, you can’t just completely neglect the child, right?” “Since he enrolled, no one has ever shown up for a parent-teacher conference!” “Now all the kids in the school are saying he doesn’t have a mom. This is really bad for his physical and mental development.” No one came to the parent-teacher conferences? Even if Liam was incredibly busy and disliked this child, couldn’t he even bother having an assistant handle it? I frowned, feeling for the first time that I might have made the wrong decision. …Maybe I shouldn’t have given up custody back then. But at that time, I was penniless, my parents were in comas at the hospital, and I couldn’t even support myself. How could I possibly raise a fragile child? I pulled up Liam’s number, hesitated for a second, and dialed. I decided to have a serious talk with him. If Liam really didn’t want to raise him anymore, I would take him in. Even though I couldn’t provide the excellent conditions of the Sterling family right now, it was still enough to raise a child. Just as the call went through, a ringtone sounded from behind me. Sensing something, my fingertips trembled as I turned around. I saw Liam stepping out of a black Bentley. Six years had passed. He seemed to have changed, yet somehow remained the same. He looked down at the lit screen through half-lidded eyes, his wrist bones sharply defined, his cold, handsome face hidden in the shadows. He unhurriedly raised an eyebrow and suddenly looked up. “You hid from me for so many years.” “Want to talk?” Unlike my miserable circumstances all these years, Liam remained calm and composed. His features were the same as before, but the gaze he directed at me felt inexplicably deep. Even the dappled light filtering through the trees seemed to favor him. I had heard he had already taken over the entire Sterling family empire from Old Mr. Sterling. I had heard the brand he founded swept the globe. I had heard he secretly married years ago and always kept a low profile. Memories spanning over a decade, which I had deliberately ignored, surged back like a breaking dam, sending sharp, fine pain through my chest. It was only at the moment I saw him that I realized: I thought I had let it go. Turns out, I hadn’t. The boy who wove a grass ring for me when we were young, who kicked the person bullying me into the pool. No one could have ever imagined we would end up in such an embarrassing situation. He actually hadn’t changed; he just stopped loving me, that’s all. It’s been a really, really long time, Liam. 4 We walked in silence and found a nearby coffee shop. Before the coffee even arrived, as if trying to hide my nerves, I cut straight to the chase: “Do you still want the child?” For six years, I had fantasized about reuniting with Liam, almost torturing myself with the scenarios. So much so that I was able to feign indifference now. Liam glanced at me, answering without hesitation: “Of course I do.” I pressed my lips together, staring at the street sign through the floor-to-ceiling window. I gave a low “Mhm” and stood up. “Then remember to pick him up after school. If you don’t have time for parent-teacher conferences, you can let me know. I won’t bother you and—” I still couldn’t say Chloe’s name out loud. I couldn’t help digging my nails into my palms. The sharp pain kept me lucid, forcing me to say: “…I won’t disturb your lives.” I checked the time, ready to leave. As we brushed past each other, I heard Liam abruptly ask: “So now, the only thing you want to talk to me about is Leo?” My footsteps faltered. I didn’t quite understand. Everything between us had been settled six years ago. He loved someone else; I took my two hundred thousand and left cleanly. It was that simple. Besides Leo, what else was there to talk about? Liam let out a breath, his dark eyes locked onto me, and spoke again: “Alright then. I don’t want Leo anymore.” He sounded so righteous, as if he wasn’t the one who had just flipped his stance in a split second. I furrowed my brow, unable to resist asking: “What do you mean?” Liam lifted his chin slightly, tapping the seat across from him, signaling me to sit back down. “Exactly what it sounds like.” “You want to raise the kid? Fine. The kid is yours.” “Considering the child’s physical and mental well-being, I will come to your current residence every Friday evening to spend necessary quality time with Leo, and I will drive back to the office on Monday morning.” Seeing him spout this nonsense with a straight face, I felt it was completely absurd. Reaching my limit, I reminded him: “We are already divorced.” “Are we?” Liam let out an ambiguous scoff. “I never signed.” I belatedly realized the meaning of his words. When Old Mr. Sterling told me to sign the divorce agreement, I just assumed Liam was so disgusted by me he didn’t even want to see me one last time, which is why he never appeared. He said he never signed. But then why did he wait six years to find me? I wouldn’t flatter myself by thinking he still had feelings for me. Maybe the original agreement got lost, or maybe there was a loophole that required a supplementary contract. Anything was possible. I pressed my lips together and said very cooperatively: “Then we can draft a new one and sign it.” Liam didn’t even look up: “I’m not signing.” I tried reasoning with him nicely: “If we sign it, we’re totally clear of each other. Isn’t that great?” “No.” “Do you have some kind of concern? I don’t want any shares or money. You can consider me leaving with absolutely nothing.” “No.” His three “no’s” made me both angry and dazed. Perhaps Liam himself didn’t even remember, but he was exactly like this when he was younger. That day was his birthday party. Someone cornered me, looking at me with lecherous, disrespectful eyes, saying whatever garbage came to mind. Liam kicked him right into the pool. It caused a massive scene. The guests were all prominent figures in New York’s high society, and the faces of the family elders were quite ugly. When asked for a reason, Liam refused to explain. To avoid gossip and protect my reputation, Liam never even mentioned me from beginning to end. Because he refused to admit he was wrong, he took a brutal beating with a cane from Old Mr. Sterling. Probably no one would have guessed that the 18th birthday of the man sitting in front of me, now a titan of industry, was spent locked in a solitary confinement room. The door was completely locked from the outside; no one could even bring him medicine. I huddled outside the door, saying very softly and guiltily: “I’m sorry.” Through the door panel, he paused for a moment, making some rustling sounds. It seemed he sat down by the door too. His voice was a bit muffled as he gave a soft “Oh,” and then said: “Not listening.” I buried my forehead in my knees and mumbled: “Actually, you didn’t have to kick him. You could have just let him finish talking. He wouldn’t have dared to actually do anything to me.” “Not waiting.” I didn’t say anything else. Maybe my voice was too muffled and he misunderstood something. After a moment, he said again: “No crying.” He knocked on the door panel, making a light tsk sound: “I did it because I wanted to. It has nothing to do with you. No crying.” I snapped out of my daze, trying my hardest to hide the burning sensation in my eyes. Yet it felt as if I could hear his “no crying” from all those years ago. Liam sat under the light, offering a faint smile. The fine dust caught in the light drifted lazily. His old features had silently sharpened over the years. He looked up and raised an eyebrow at me. As if answering what I had said earlier. “Maya, things between us can never be clear.” 5 I don’t quite remember how it ended. I only remember that I was so angry I didn’t even say goodbye. Because we parted on bad terms, I wasn’t sure if he was just talking nonsense or if he actually intended to follow through. I hesitated for a moment but decided not to call an Uber back. Maybe because the round-trip fare would cost almost what I make in a day; I might as well just take the rest of the day off instead of going back to work. Or maybe the maternal love that had been absent for six years was acting up. I didn’t want to break my promise to Leo. I waited until 4:30 PM, when preschool got out. Most of the children at this preschool came from prominent families. Amidst the coming and going luxury cars, I saw that Bentley stop in front of Leo. So I didn’t step forward. I turned around, slowly walking back the way I came. I suddenly felt that my previous worries were ridiculous. What was I thinking? How could the Sterling family really let the child leave with me? The Bentley quickly drove away, kicking up a thick cloud of dust as it passed. I inexplicably thought of that tender little face. We probably wouldn’t see each other again. I just, as if possessed, turned to take one last look. With the black car gone, the other side of the road was revealed. Leo stood all alone at the preschool gate. His wide, round eyes met my gaze. His eyes lit up, and he was about to sprint toward me, but was stopped by a teacher raising her arm. He scrunched up his little face, looking a bit angry as he said something to the teacher. Afraid he would jaywalk, by the time I snapped out of it, I had already taken several steps toward him. The teacher saw me and finally felt safe letting Leo go. He ran until he was panting, his dark, obsidian-like eyes sparkling. He only slowed down when he got close, deliberately putting on an air of indifference. Squirming but happy, he said: “…You, you really came to pick me up?” A soft little hand tentatively grasped my fingertips. Seeing I didn’t pull away, he pressed the corners of his lips together, stole a glance at me, and squeezed even tighter. I gave a soft “Mhm” and asked him, a bit unsure: “Aren’t you going with him?” At the mention of Liam, Leo’s cheeks puffed up like a propane tank ready to explode: “I don’t want him! And he didn’t come to pick me up!” “He said you work so hard dropping me off and picking me up, and that I’d just annoy you by clinging to you every day. He told me not to disrupt your work.” He looked very opinionated, seemingly very disdainful of Liam, and said very seriously and proudly: “I’m not as stupid as he is!” “I talked to my teacher about transferring schools today! That way, you won’t have to spend so much time dropping me off!” He tilted his little face up, his gaze urging me on, seemingly waiting for me to praise him. I couldn’t help but rub his round little head. Traffic was heavy on the way back. After stopping at the grocery store, the sky was getting dark. I held Leo’s hand as we walked home. He seemed to remember something and casually mumbled: “Oh right, the driver is picking me up after school tomorrow. Dad said I have to go home tomorrow to get all my clothes.” “But I still want to come back here to sleep! You’re not allowed to forget me!” Tomorrow was Friday. I instinctively tightened my grip on the plastic bag holding the pork belly ingredients, paused for a second, and said softly: “Okay.” Children are forgetful. Maybe after a weekend of being coaxed at home, he would forget about me. I treated every meeting as if it were the last. Because only by doing that wouldn’t I feel disappointed during the long waits.

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When I was 17, I was brought back to my wealthy biological family. My parents hesitated, exchanging awkward glances. “You have a twin brother and a younger sister, but they…” Looking at their expressions, I understood immediately. My biological siblings probably weren’t too thrilled to have me back. But the very next second, the grand double doors were thrown open. A flashy figure strode in, rocking a head of blindingly bright red hair. He announced loudly: “So this is my big sis, huh? I dyed my hair red specifically to celebrate you coming home. Is this festive enough or what?” Following close behind him was a teenage girl with side-swept bangs, clutching a bundle of burning sage, some amethyst crystals, and a vial of holy water. “Sis! I got these specially blessed by a psychic! Let me cleanse your aura and ward off the bad vibes!” “…” Every family has its problems. My family apparently had two. 1 The drive from the orphanage to the multi-million dollar luxury estate took just over an hour. My biological parents had red, teary eyes and couldn’t stop staring at me. As the heavy doors pushed open, a world of unimaginable luxury unfolded before me. My parents took my hand and gave me a tour of everything, including the bedroom and private study they had prepared for me, and the elite private prep school I was about to transfer into. However, their enthusiastic chatter suddenly ground to a halt, turning into awkward stammers. “Chloe, you also have a twin brother and a younger sister, but they…” From their tone, I could already guess my siblings’ attitude toward me. It made sense. Even with the ties of blood, to this family, I was a stranger. An abrupt intrusion. I opened my mouth, just about to say it was fine. The next second, the grand doors swung open. A flashy figure strode in, rocking a head of blindingly bright red hair. The teenage boy, who shared several facial features with me, looked me up and down before announcing loudly: “So this is my big sis, huh? I dyed my hair red specifically to celebrate you coming home. Is this festive enough or what?” And that wasn’t all. Following close behind him was a teenage girl with side-swept bangs, clutching a bundle of burning sage, amethyst crystals, and a vial of holy water. Her voice was loud and clear: “Sis! I got these specially blessed by a psychic! Let me cleanse your aura and ward off the bad vibes!” I fell silent for a moment. I turned my head and saw my biological parents looking like they wanted to crawl into a hole. “…” Before I was brought back, the director of the orphanage had earnestly advised me: “Chloe, every family has its problems. When you go back, try not to resent your parents or your siblings too much. You have a long life ahead of you; don’t live in the past.” The director probably never imagined that while every family has its problems, my family had two massive ones. Before I could even speak, my biological dad erupted. “Caleb Sterling! What kind of nonsense are you and your sister pulling now?! Didn’t I tell you Chloe was coming home today?!” The boy named Caleb—the twin who shared my exact birthdate—didn’t show an ounce of respect. “Yeah, and isn’t this me welcoming my sister home?” The girl beside him didn’t say a word. She just kept waving the burning sage around me, muttering some incomprehensible incantation under her breath. Like she was performing a ritual. Then, she devoutly shoved the amethyst crystals and holy water into my hands, her large eyes sparkling. “Sis, keep the crystals on you at all times, and put the holy water by your bed to repel evil spirits.” My dad grabbed a decorative broom from the corner, looking furious. “Repel evil spirits?! The only evil spirits she needs to repel are you two! Caleb, Maya, you get back here right now!” I was left looking at my biological mom, and she at me. She forced a stiff smile. “Chloe… our family is just on the lively side. Please don’t mind them.” The melancholy I originally felt was blown halfway to heaven by these two siblings. On my very first day back with my biological family, I witnessed my dad chasing his kids around with a broom. The teenage boy sprinted around the courtyard, occasionally turning back to wait for his middle-aged father to catch up, only to dart away again just as the broom was about to land. The sight of my panting, exhausted father was profoundly pathetic. “…” These two were absolute menaces. The afternoon ended with a roar echoing through the mansion: “Caleb Sterling, you are dyeing that red chicken-feather hair back to black tomorrow!” 2 After dinner, my blood-related brother and sister stared intently at me. Like they were trying to find a hidden treasure on my face. Maya spoke first: “Sis, you and Caleb look pretty similar, so why are you so much prettier than him?” “Maya, what’s that supposed to mean? I’m your brother!” The girl, two years our junior, rolled her eyes at him. “Just because you’re my brother doesn’t mean I can’t speak the truth.” The natural familiarity between these two was something I couldn’t insert myself into. Their bickering left no room for me to interject. However, they seemed deeply curious about my past. Maya asked: “Sis, you’re so pretty and healthy. How come no family wanted to adopt you all these years?” My memories drifted far away. After a moment, I said, “I was actually adopted by three different families.” The siblings before me simultaneously widened their nearly identical eyes. “But within two years of adopting me, each of those families ended up having biological children of their own.” It was a strange phenomenon. The couples who came to the orphanage to adopt were usually older or diagnosed with infertility. At first, they treated me wonderfully. But as soon as they had their own children, they felt I was taking up resources meant for their biological kids, and I was sent back under various excuses. As I grew older, families coming to adopt naturally preferred younger children. After hearing this, Caleb blurted out, “Holy crap, you’re a literal good luck charm for babies!” “…” Then my biological sister threw another question at me: “Sis, what’s your zodiac sign? Let me calculate your birth chart. How can anyone be as unlucky as you?” “Caleb is a Virgo, what are you?” “…” Facing her painfully sincere gaze, I gently reminded her, “I’m his twin.” “Right, he’s a Virgo. What about you?” Beside her, Caleb didn’t seem to think anything was wrong with that question either. The siblings’ eyes were identical pools of crystal-clear emptiness. “…” When I was brought back, my school records were transferred over as well. I was enrolled in the same elite private prep school as Caleb and Maya, which housed both a middle school and a high school division. On registration day, Caleb asked, “Sis, which class are you in?” He always called me “Sis” with a slight, unearned swagger. Even though he spoke normally otherwise. “If you run into any trouble at school, come find me. Your brother has quite a bit of pull around here.” Beside him, Maya was muttering to herself before leaving the house: “Today’s lucky color is green…” And then I watched her emerge wearing an entirely green outfit, a jade bracelet on her wrist, and even a green backpack. “…” Perfect. My two blood relatives. One was an edgy teen with a savior complex, and the other was an astrology girl living in her own magical reality. 3 Caleb didn’t know we were in the same class until we were standing right outside the classroom door. My transfer had been abrupt. To save time, my parents simply threw money at the problem to expedite the paperwork. This meant my grades from my previous public school didn’t matter. It was the middle of the second semester of junior year; it didn’t matter which class I was placed into. Caleb was thrilled. “Same class is great! I’ve got your back from now on.” “…” When the homeroom teacher led me to the podium, I finally got a good look at all the students in the room. Caleb’s red hair was glaringly obvious, even sitting in the very back corner. Yet, as soon as the teacher finished introducing me, he was the first to lead the applause: “Welcome to our new classmate!” The students below the podium began whispering: “So that’s Caleb’s long-lost sister. They do look alike.” “She looks so sweet. Honestly, seeing her makes me think Caleb would look pretty good in drag… hehe.” I had no idea what Caleb had been telling the class while we were separated earlier. But looking at them, it seemed like everyone already knew who I was. “Chloe, please take a seat.” The newly emptied desk in the back row was mine. Caleb was sitting just to my back-left. He gave me a subtle chin-nod, showing off his “network” in the class and proving he truly had the ability to “have my back.” “…” During the break, Caleb wasn’t the only one. A whole circle of people crowded around my desk. They stared at me like I was an endangered animal. “Caleb, no wonder your family managed to find her after over a decade. She’s definitely a Sterling, looks like she was printed from the same mold as you.” “Hey there, I’m Mason Clark, Caleb’s best bro.” “Hey, I’m Wyatt Brooks. We’re classmates now.” “I’m Zoe Miller! Our families live close by, come hang out when you have free time!” But as soon as they finished, Caleb elbowed them. “Hold up, who are you trying to take advantage of? She’s my twin. Born the exact same day, same month, same year, just a few minutes younger,” Caleb corrected them. “Call her ‘Big Sis’.” “…” The edgy junior with red hair loved playing the “Big Brother” role in his friend group. So his sister, born just minutes later, had to be treated as the “Big Sis.” On my first day of transfer, I truly felt the sheer aura of money radiating through the school. Most of the students were incredibly wealthy or influential. There were a few rare students who kept their heads down and studied hard, and they actually got along well with the rich kids. My desk mate, Harper Hayes, was one of them. She was a scholarship student recruited by the school in middle school. When she mentioned the hefty stipend the school paid to poach her, I went silent for a moment. Harper continued, “If I can just make it into the top five of the grade, I’ll get a higher tier of scholarship money. I know this money is nothing to you guys, but for my family, it’s already a lot…” I cut her off: “It is a lot. It’s a lot to me too.” Even though my parents had opened a new bank account for me and deposited a massive sum of money when I returned, I was used to being poor. Anyone who turned down free money was an idiot. Lost in the thought that I had been missing out on this money, I furiously completed two math worksheets out of pure spite during class. At lunch, Caleb took me to the cafeteria. He stared at me for a long time before suddenly speaking, “Sis.” “Yeah?” “Don’t you feel like you’re missing something?” “Like what?” “You’re missing the youthful, vibrant energy of your brother!” He looked at me earnestly. “How about you dye your hair red too? That way, everyone will instantly know you’re my sister.” “…” I politely declined Caleb’s suggestion. He condemned me for lacking any aesthetic taste. 4 A sudden commotion broke out nearby. I looked up and saw a group of students walking in. The teenage boy leading them was treated like royalty by the others. He was incredibly handsome, and judging by the entourage, he was clearly a wealthy heir. Many students who were eating stopped to look at him. Caleb glanced over and let out a cold snort: “Poser.” Seeing my gaze still lingering on the boy, Caleb physically grabbed my head and turned it to face forward. “Sis, you just got back, so you don’t know how things work around here. See that group that just walked by? Especially that dog in the middle? Stay far away from him. He’s an absolute, total poser.” “Anyone who poses harder than your own brother can’t be a good person.” “…” I was silent for a moment, momentarily unable to comprehend his unique art of insulting an enemy by insulting himself first. Seeing me not speaking, Caleb grew alert. He rarely used my full name: “Chloe Sterling, don’t tell me you’ve been bewitched by that pretty boy’s face?” “I haven’t.” I lowered my eyes. I was recalling the photo of the number one student on the school’s honor roll. What was his name again? Liam Vance. I had no interest in him personally, but I was highly interested in his number one spot. Caleb was still trash-talking him: “That guy is super shady. Girls like you are the easiest to get fooled by that face…” His resentment was palpable. I could tell these two had serious beef. I nodded in agreement. But Caleb paused. I looked up and met the scrutinizing gaze from those eyes that were so similar to mine. “You’re brushing me off!” he accused. In the few days since returning to my biological family, I had confirmed that my twin brother and I had polar opposite personalities. His emotional needs were way too high. Like a Beagle. I rubbed my temples, feeling a headache coming on. When we got home after the school day, our parents first checked in on how I was adapting. Everything was fine. Then it was Caleb and Maya chattering non-stop in my ears. By the end of dinner, I even knew the name of Maya’s classmate’s dog. Their need to vent was just as high. I looked over at my parents; they were as steady as mountains, occasionally giving a perfunctory nod. They were clearly used to it. Sitting between the siblings, I quickly adapted too. I just couldn’t figure out how such calm, steady parents raised two hyperactive Beagles. About a week later, I was fully acclimated to the new school. It was indeed vastly different. In the past, I was a boarding student. Seven or eight of us shared a tiny dorm, sleeping on small, cramped beds. It wasn’t overly harsh, but we had absolutely no money. Now, I was chauffeured to and from school. Lunch was monitored by Caleb; he seemed to have set a minimum spending limit for my meals, insisting I spend a certain amount. “You’re too skinny. Eat more while you can still grow, get some nutrition. From now on, order according to this standard.” Meanwhile, Maya specifically crossed half the campus to bring me a huge bag of snacks. “Sis, eat up!” She pulled out a snack in red packaging, speaking devoutly, “I did a reading for you. Your lucky color today is red!” “…” Just as she tried to slip away, Caleb grabbed her by the back of her collar near the window: “Maya Sterling, do you only have one sibling in this class? Where’s mine?” The girl with the high ponytail flipped her side bangs, speaking with absolute righteousness: “If you want to eat, buy it yourself.” Caleb laughed out of sheer annoyance: “I knew it! Ever since we were little, you only ever wanted a sister, not a brother!” According to the aggrieved party’s later complaints, when Maya was a toddler and couldn’t distinguish genders, she saw kindergarten classmates with older sisters and wanted one too. So, she went home and called Caleb “Sister” for a very long time. 5 Once Caleb confirmed I had adapted to my new school life, he resumed his carefree, skipping-class lifestyle. After third period, I glanced back and realized Caleb was already gone from his seat. Until school let out in the afternoon, I didn’t see him again. It wasn’t just him; the group of guys he usually hung out with were all missing too. The teacher who came in for the next class merely swept a glance over the empty desks and, completely unfazed, began the lesson. The rest of the class didn’t seem to care either. I finally asked my desk mate. Harper heard me and explained, “They probably ditched.” “Ditched?” Harper lowered her voice: “Yeah, you know our school is full of rich kids. Aside from a few teachers with solid backing who dare to discipline them, the others are afraid of offending the rich kids and losing their jobs. Your brother and his friends used to skip classes from time to time too. The school doesn’t care, and your parents… seem to have given up too.” I narrowed my eyes. Having played by the rules for over a decade, I truly never expected my twin to be a problem child. I originally thought that red hair was just him expressing his individuality. However, before I could figure out how to guide my biological brother back to the right path, the homeroom teacher came looking for me right before school ended. “Chloe, Caleb got into a fight off-campus and is at the police station. I can’t reach your parents. Are you able to contact them?” “…” And that wasn’t the end of it. Right after I finished speaking with the teacher, I turned and saw two little girls poking their heads out by the stairwell. I recognized them; they were Maya’s classmates. They were waving at me secretively. I walked over, only to hear them say: “Sis! Maya got caught in a teen romance drama and was taken to the police station! You have to save her!” My vision went dark. My parents had taken an afternoon flight abroad for a business deal. It was completely normal not to be able to reach them right now. I called my dad’s assistant, then rushed to the police station with the homeroom teacher. Also accompanying us were school administrators and the homeroom teacher of another class. Because the person Caleb had clashed with was the very same number one student I had seen not long ago, Liam Vance. The police station was bustling. When I arrived, I saw Caleb completely ignoring his own fighting situation. He stood with his hands on his hips in front of a younger boy, looking fierce: “Do the Vances have a blood feud with our family or something? The older one plays dirty tricks on me since we were kids, and the younger one dares to hit on my sister?!” The boy, looking defiant, shot back: “Who hit on your sister? She’s the one who’s been stalking me!” Caleb was furious and wanted to throw hands, but this was a police station, and he couldn’t act recklessly. A police officer shouted a warning at them. I saw Maya standing behind Caleb like a frightened quail, but gripping the hem of his shirt. Across from them, the Vance brothers’ faces were bruised and battered. Liam and Noah Vance. The police, teachers, and school admins were all present. Yet the Vance brothers were sporting injuries, while Caleb looked completely fine. It seemed glaringly obvious who was at fault. The school administrator said sternly: “Caleb Sterling, you again!” 6 In school, it seemed that not everyone bowed to the wealth of the young masters and misses. The administrator didn’t hold back in his criticism of Caleb. Just then, another person walked in. A tall, lean figure came into view—a young man in his twenties wearing jeans and a white T-shirt appeared abruptly. “Uncle,” the Vance brothers greeted the newcomer first. “Hello, I’m Ethan Thorne. The guardians of Liam and Noah Vance have entrusted me to handle this matter.” Shortly after Ethan entered, my dad’s assistant arrived, panting heavily. Noah was younger, and the moment he saw Ethan, he started complaining. I quickly pieced together the sequence of events. The situation was simple: Caleb, skipping class, accidentally spotted his middle-school sister hanging out with his mortal enemy’s younger brother. Blood rushing to his head, he charged over to “educate” the punk who was hitting on his sister. This scene was coincidentally witnessed by Liam, and the conflict ignited. Caleb fought one against two, and from the looks of it, he didn’t lose. “…” This happened off-campus. I had no idea how these people all managed to skip class during the exact same timeframe. Regarding that, Liam stated: “I took a sick day today.” The division of responsibility was actually quite clear. Caleb threw the first punch, and everyone could see the injuries on the brothers’ faces. He was in the wrong. Naturally, the school administrators and teachers hoped to settle it privately. To settle privately, a verbal apology and covering the medical bills were unavoidable. But Caleb let out a cold sneer: “I’ll pay the medical bills. Apologize? In your dreams!” My dad’s assistant wiped non-existent sweat from his forehead, clearly at a loss with Caleb too. Seeing the matter was close to being resolved, only for the main culprit to be uncooperative, the administrator frowned: “Caleb Sterling…” I spoke up at that moment: “Excuse me, may I ask the specific content of the argument that broke out? I’m a bit curious what kind of argument would escalate to physical violence.” My words silenced the room for a moment. The school administrator grew impatient: “Does that matter? Caleb Sterling hit someone.” I stared straight back at him, my tone calm: “There are visible cuts and bruises on Caleb’s arms and the back of his hands. This was clearly a mutual altercation, not a one-sided beating by him.” “Also, losing a two-on-one fight? Are you guys useless?” I glanced at the two brothers. “You!” Noah immediately reached out to say something but was stopped by his brother. The looks the school administrator and teachers gave us practically screamed that they thought the three of us Sterling siblings were absolute troublemakers. The next second, I poked Caleb’s waist without warning. Caught off guard, he yelped in pain. I reached out and lifted his shirt. On his side was a massive, glaring purple-and-blue bruise, surrounded by smaller ones. “Pretty dirty fighters, aren’t you,” I looked at the brothers, my expression blank. “I suspect my brother sustained internal injuries. We’re requesting to go to the hospital for a medical injury assessment. Let’s see whose injuries are more severe before we talk about compensation.” When I first walked in, I noticed Caleb occasionally frowning and pressing his hand against his side. Yet this idiot insisted on pretending to be a triumphant, majestic victor. Caleb’s injuries instantly turned the tide. I saw the young man who came to handle his nephews’ injuries also frown. “Liam, Noah, did you do this?” he asked. The brothers didn’t answer. 7 I looked at Maya: “Maya, tell me, what were they arguing about?” Tears welled up in the young girl’s eyes. After a moment, she choked out, “Caleb told Noah to stay away from me…” Maya’s words brought a turning point to the situation. Initially, it was just a young girl whose confession of love was rejected, witnessed by her brother who was skipping class. As luck would have it, the punk who made his sister experience her first crush was his mortal enemy’s younger brother. In a fit of rage, he stepped in to issue a few warnings. Noah’s words weren’t polite either: “She’s been stalking me, giving me love letters and gifts. I don’t even like her.” That sentence enraged Caleb: “My sister is pretty, smart, sharp, and kind! Who are you to say you don’t like her?!” Noah: “She got a 57 in math, how is she smart? You Sterlings are both idiots! Weren’t you two always at the bottom of your class since you were kids?” Teenagers speak without a filter. Growing up privileged, and influenced by his brother’s grudge against Caleb, Noah looked down on the Sterlings too. He only wanted to use words to attack the other side’s defenses, speaking without thinking, not realizing how vicious his words were. “Your parents are idiots too, so stupid they didn’t even know if their own daughter was dead or alive. What’s the point of finding her now? Living out there for so many years, she’s probably been raised into useless trash!” Before he even finished, Caleb’s fist landed on his face. No one can tolerate others using their family’s trauma as a casual joke, especially mocking it right to their face. Liam appeared just as his brother was getting hit. Not knowing the context, but seeing his brother being unilaterally suppressed, he naturally stepped in to help. When a tearful Maya recounted those words, the room fell into a heavy silence. I hadn’t expected this incident to have an underlying connection to me. My background was no secret. Back then, Caleb and I were both premature babies. Human traffickers lurking in the hospital swapped me with a dead infant. The young couple, suddenly struck by the grief of losing a daughter, never suspected foul play in her death. Many years later, when the trafficking ring was busted and this buried past was brought to light, they were shocked to realize their daughter might still be alive. That was how I was found. Recalling the past, the orphanage director said that when they found me, I was so weak I barely had a breath left. Probably due to my frail constitution from being premature, the traffickers realized I was dying before they could even sell me. In a rare moment of conscience, they abandoned me at the orphanage door. Regardless of what was said, those 17 years of displacement were a gap that couldn’t be easily bridged. It was a trauma for the family. It was not something to be joked about. “Noah,” Ethan’s voice rang out, sounding devoid of emotion. “Did you really say that?” The two brothers were clearly a bit intimidated by their uncle, who was only a few years older than them. Noah bit the bullet and retorted: “Who said that? Who can prove it? It can’t just be whatever someone says it is, right?” Ethan nodded: “True.” However, he turned to the police officer: “Officer, I heard the security cameras caught them. Can I request a copy? If it didn’t record audio, I’ll hire a lip-reader to see exactly what they said.” “Uncle!” The teenager, lacking composure, became angry out of embarrassment. “Whose uncle are you?!” The young man looked at his nephew and said: “Noah, apologize.”

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I was brutally tortured and murdered. My mother was the sole witness. However, severely traumatized, she lost all memory of the killer’s face. Everyone comforted her. “It’s okay, take your time. You’ll remember eventually.” But ten years passed. She never remembered. On the tenth anniversary of my death, the police came knocking once more to press her for answers. My mother merely leaned down, kissed my nine-year-old sister, and spoke with total tranquility. “Let me forget those painful memories forever.” “After all, I already have a new daughter now.” 1 In the tenth year of my death, the officer was still patiently trying to persuade my mother. “Please, think about it again.” “If you could just remember the suspect’s face, we could actually close this case.” “Chloe was your daughter. Don’t you want to see her get justice?” My mother’s face remained entirely impassive. She slowly looked up, her tone wooden. “It’s clearly your own incompetence as investigators.” “You haven’t caught the killer in ten years, and now you say if you catch him, it’s a done deal?” A flicker of awkwardness crossed the officer’s face, but he remained remarkably patient. “I completely understand how you feel. It was a terrible tragedy that befell Chloe that day, and you suffered a severe shock as well.” “However, there were no security cameras on that street, and the emergency responders inadvertently destroyed some of the evidence while trying to save her.” “You are the only eyewitness left.” “If you can recall any detail, even the smallest, most insignificant thing, it could be the key to finding the killer.” As the officer spoke, I floated behind him, nodding furiously. “Yes, Mom! Please, just try to remember what happened that night.” “I’ve been stuck in this house for ten years. I really, really want to know.” Finally, a flicker of hesitation appeared in my mother’s eyes. Her voice choked up. “I’ve told you already, I can’t remember.” “Just starting to think about that day makes my heart race and I can’t breathe.” “If I push it, I’ll pass out.” “It’s just… it’s too painful.” As she spoke, tears rolled silently down her face. It was as if she were experiencing that suffocating terror all over again. Watching her tremble… I instantly calmed down. It’s true. I shouldn’t force her. Over the years, my mother had tried so hard to remember that face hidden in the shadows. She returned to that alleyway time and again, standing right where I fell, trying to trigger her memory. She saw countless psychiatrists and hypnotherapists, only to wake from hypnosis screaming and crying. She had pushed herself to the brink with self-destructive methods. She had knelt before the altar at the church, praying until she was physically exhausted. Honestly, I hated seeing her suffer like that. I floated right in front of her, trying desperately to touch her face. I wanted to tell her to stop trying to remember. Even if they never caught the killer, it was okay. But my hands simply passed right through her cheeks, again and again. I couldn’t comfort her. I could only watch helplessly as she said: “I’m sorry.” “I really want to help. I want Chloe to rest in peace. But I just can’t put myself through that again.” 2 Honestly, being a ghost all these years, I’ve lost a lot of my emotional capacity. But in that moment, I truly, desperately wished that whoever killed me would get what was coming to them. But what could I do? I couldn’t do a thing. I was just a wandering soul, drifting through the mortal realm. Thankfully, my dad was there. My dad has a gentle nature and completely dotes on my mom. I’ve never seen them argue, not once. He is her strongest pillar, her rock. Right now, he quickly stepped in to support her. Turning to the officers, his tone hardened. “My wife already said she doesn’t want to cooperate anymore.” “Please leave.” The two officers exchanged a look. The older one managed a few diplomatic words. “It’s alright. It’s not your fault you can’t remember. It’s a completely normal trauma response.” But the younger one couldn’t hide his frustration. He muttered under his breath: “She’s just giving up on her own kid?” “What kind of parent does that?” The two officers left their business cards on the table and walked out. The moment the door clicked shut, my dad swept the cards into the trash can. My mother finally dropped all her defenses. She leaned against my dad’s shoulder, completely motionless. Her voice was barely a whisper. “Honey, am I useless?” My dad kissed her forehead and held her tighter. “If you can’t remember, then don’t try.” “Even if you never remember for the rest of your life, I will never blame you.” My mother’s tears immediately started flowing again. “Do you think Chloe hates me?” “Hates me because… I clearly saw who killed her, but I can’t remember his face. I can’t get justice for her.” The room was terrifyingly quiet. Only my mother’s suppressed breathing could be heard. After a long, long time, my dad lowered his eyes. “Let’s not think about these unhappy things anymore.” “Lily is getting out of school soon.” At the mention of that name, my mother’s sobbing stopped instantly. Lily is my younger sister. She just turned nine this year. Lively and lovable. My mother rubbed her eyes and sighed. “Look at me, losing track of time again.” “I need to start making soup for Lily.” 3 Actually, the very day I was murdered, a Reaper came to collect me. But I badgered him, played dumb, and milked his sympathy for all it was worth. I told him I just wanted to spend a little more time with my mom. Maybe he felt sorry for me. Or maybe he was just too lazy to argue. He left without a word. And he never came back. So, I stayed in our house for ten years, always on edge, waiting for him to return. In the beginning, I watched my mother hold my picture, unable to sleep night after night. Later, she managed to sleep for a couple of hours at a time. But she always called my name in her dreams. Then, my mother gave birth to Lily. She was so small. So soft. She became the treasure of the whole family. And the reason my parents kept living. In front of Lily, and in front of friends and family, they never mentioned my name. But sometimes, when it was just my dad around, my mom would say a few words. “Lily is so different from her sister.” “She’s so mischievous, but so sweet.” It was true. Lily was light. Unlike me. I was a shadow. Trapping them forever in the past. My mom went to the kitchen to start the soup. My dad watched her go, a faint smile touching his lips. He took out his tools and started fixing the stereo. The sound of running water from the kitchen. The melody of children’s songs. It all wove together into a scene of warm domestic bliss. It was as if those heart-wrenching sobs and agonizing questions from just moments ago… Had never happened. I looked at my dad, then at my mom. For some reason, I suddenly didn’t want to be in the house anymore. I slowly floated outside. That’s when I noticed the two officers hadn’t left yet. They were taking a break right below our building. I had already peeked at the business card my dad threw in the trash. I knew the younger one’s name was Officer Davis. He lived up to his name—tall, long-legged, and radiating a strong sense of justice. Right now, he was venting his frustration. “What is wrong with that family?” “How can they be so apathetic about their own biological daughter?” Officer Miller was a veteran detective. He had been on my case since the beginning. He blew out a smoke ring and sighed slowly. “They loved their child. They’re just… they’ve been disappointed too many times.” My case had gone cold. They had arrested suspects a few times, only to let them go every time due to lack of evidence. My parents’ feelings had evolved from frantic, vengeful desperation… To cautious hope… To cold resignation. Eventually, it was as if they had become mere bystanders. They would only tell people who asked: “It’s in the past.” “It is what it is.” “If Chloe’s spirit is watching over us, she’ll guide us to the killer.” Officer Davis was still young. He didn’t seem to fully grasp his mentor’s logic. He wrinkled his nose. “Okay, but I saw a bunch of little girl’s things in their house just now.” “It’s impressive, really. Ten years, and they’ve kept Chloe’s stuff exactly as it was.” Before Officer Davis could finish his sentence. A Buick minivan pulled up to the entrance of our complex. My mom trotted over to meet it. A little girl jumped out of the car. Her smile was so sweet. She looked like a carbon copy of me when I was her age. 4 Mother and daughter walked away hand in hand. Officer Davis snapped out of his daze and scoffed. “No wonder they don’t care about Chloe anymore.” “Turns out they got a replacement.” His tone was so bitter. It made me so angry I could practically see smoke coming out of my ears. I wanted to rush right up to him and scream in his face. “Who gave you the right to talk about my parents like that?! Who says they don’t care about me!” “I’m their most precious, beloved daughter! I always have been!” But alas, I’m a ghost. And a weak one at that, clinging to the mortal realm out of sheer stubbornness, with barely any spiritual power. My hands couldn’t touch him. No matter how loud I screamed, he couldn’t hear me. All my rage only managed to stir up a tiny breeze. It barely ruffled the ends of his hair. Neither of them noticed me. And even if they did, they wouldn’t care about my feelings anyway. So, I sulked my way back home. Dinner was already served. Three dishes and a soup, all Lily’s favorites. She closed her eyes and dramatically praised the food. “Mom’s chicken wings are the best! Number one in the whole world!” I floated by the table, feeling incredibly petty. “That’s it?” “When I was little, the chicken wings Mom made were way better. Much tastier than these.” Lily didn’t hear me, of course. She turned to praise our dad. “Dad fixed the stereo! He’s super amazing too!” Just a few words. And she had both of them beaming with joy. I rolled my eyes so hard I saw stars. Where did this kid learn this stuff? So young, and already such a smooth talker. Annoyed, I reached out to flick Lily’s forehead. “Even chicken wings can’t shut you up!” “Keep talking, and I’ll eat them all.” But my fingertips just phased right through the plate. I opened my hand; it was completely empty. Meanwhile, Lily happily scooped the remaining chicken wings into her own bowl. I pouted. “So what.” “I’m the one who loved chicken wings first.” “Mom only learned how to make them because of me!” But no one heard a word I said. I glanced up at my parents. Of course, they weren’t looking at me. They were looking at Lily. Their faces were full of absolute, loving adoration. I knew I shouldn’t be jealous. Because when I was alive, they looked at me the exact same way. But today, for some reason, I just felt irritated. Maybe it was because I couldn’t eat the chicken wings. Maybe it was because of what that jerk officer said downstairs. Then, from the other side of the table, Lily suddenly spoke up. “Mom, you promised me! Once I get ten perfect scores, you’d set up an art studio for me.” She tilted her head up and blinked her big eyes. “Mom, isn’t there an extra room in the house?” “Can I have it?” I jumped up like a cat whose tail got stepped on. “That’s not an extra room! That’s MY room!” “You rotten kid, why are you trying to steal my room?!” 5 After Lily was born, my bedroom door was kept locked. When she was little and didn’t understand, she would throw tantrums wanting to go inside. My parents would coax her, telling her it was a secret room. And that she could go in when she was older. But when Lily was five, my mom forgot to lock it one day. And she sneaked in. She rummaged through everything in my room. She even pulled all the manga out of my drawers and threw them all over the floor. When my mom found her, Lily burst into tears. She thought my mom was going to spank her. But my mom didn’t say anything. She just handed her the yellowing manga books. “If you like them, take them.” But my mom never told Lily: “These books were your sister’s favorites. You need to take good care of them.” So, I had to watch helplessly as Lily took them to school. And then some mischievous boy kicked them into a puddle. Right now. Faced with Lily’s request, my dad actually spoke up for me. “We can’t touch that room.” “How about this? I’ll partition part of the living room and make an art studio for you. How does that sound?” It was a good compromise. But then my mom suddenly objected. “No.” “If we do that, the house will feel even smaller.” This house was indeed small. I was born here. Back then, my dad was just a junior employee. And my mom’s career hadn’t taken off yet. They didn’t have much money. It was only after I died that their businesses really started booming. But they never moved. Maybe it was to hold onto my memory. After all, they used to say this old house was full of traces of me. In the entryway, there were pencil marks drawn on the wall. Starting from a tiny little line, going all the way up. The last mark was from when I was fourteen. In the closet, my mom kept my school uniforms neatly folded. As if I was going to come home and put them on. But now, my mom put down her chopsticks and said very casually: “Let’s just move, then.” My dad’s smile froze. “Honey, didn’t we agree we were going to keep…” He tacitly avoided saying my name. They never said my name in front of Lily. But my mom nodded, her resolve strengthening. “We can’t refuse to move for the rest of our lives just because of the past.” “As for that room…” She looked back at it, her expression complex. “No one’s ever going to live in it again anyway.” 6 Lily’s cheers drowned out my mom’s sigh. She must have been thrilled. She kept jumping up and down, yelling excitedly. “I get an art studio! I’m getting an art studio!” “Mom, can I paint my bedroom pink?” “Mom, when are we moving?” I looked at Lily’s face. To be honest, my mom really loved me in the past. She always said I was her treasure. Her one and only treasure. If I casually mentioned wanting to eat something, it would be on the dinner table the next day. No matter how late she worked, she would always cuddle me to sleep. When I woke up in the morning, she would sit on the edge of my bed and brush my hair. She was good with her hands; my braids were always the most elaborate in my class. But, everything I had, Lily had too. In fact, my mom took even better care of her than she did me. I was no longer my mom’s only treasure. I couldn’t help but remember Officer Davis’s complaint. “No wonder they don’t care about Chloe anymore.” “Turns out they got a replacement.” And his mentor’s long sigh. “They lost a daughter, but…” “They can’t just stop living because of it.” At the time, I even nodded in agreement. “Exactly. You cops can get new cases, change departments, get new assignments.” “My parents shouldn’t be trapped on that one day for the rest of their lives.” “I’d be happier than anyone to see them forget me and move on.” So they had Lily. And they put even more effort into raising Lily than they did me. When I was little, I always walked home from school by myself. But my mom hired a dedicated driver just to pick up and drop off Lily. She would never let Lily walk home alone. I loved drawing too, and I was really talented. But my mom never got me an art teacher. Yet, the moment Lily said she liked drawing, my mom hired the best professor from the local art academy. I knew my mom treating Lily so well was also her way of making it up to me. I shouldn’t be jealous. I was only fourteen when I died. My mom was only thirty-six. She should still have sixty wonderful years ahead of her. Even if I couldn’t be a part of them. Even though I understood this logic long ago. Seeing my mom truly moving forward… My heart still felt like a chunk of it had been carved out. Cold wind kept blowing into the empty space. It chilled me so much I shivered. I struggled, floating back and forth between my parents. “Don’t move! You can’t move! This is my home!” “If you go to a new house, what about me?” But even when I used all my strength to throw myself at them… I only managed to stir the air a tiny bit. I didn’t know if my parents could sense my presence. Right after I died, they thought the wind was me, they thought the door creaking was me, they thought the cat meowing was me. But now, they just seriously discussed their plans. “We need to move quickly.” “We can’t make Lily wait.” 7 My room didn’t need to be locked anymore. Because other than that room… The rest of the house was completely empty. Just like my heart. With no one in the house, I suddenly felt very scared. But, what was I scared of? When I was little, I loved listening to ghost stories. I was terrified, but I loved them. And then I’d be scared after listening to them. Scared of the dark. Scared of things hiding in the closet. Scared of ghosts outside the window. But I didn’t need to be afraid of ghosts anymore. My mom supervised the movers as they carried out the very last box. She turned around one last time and looked at the room. Then she whispered softly. “Chloe, Mom’s leaving.” I genuinely thought my mom could see me. I floated excitedly near her. But her gaze remained unfocused, landing vaguely somewhere in the room. There was no focus. She wasn’t looking at me. She was just saying goodbye for her own sake. I could have followed my mom to the new house. But I was stubborn, and I didn’t go. That was Lily’s new home. Why should I go intrude? This was my first time spending the night alone. I curled up in a corner. I think what I was truly afraid of was that my parents would really never come back. I was afraid that from now on, everyone who remembered me would slowly drift away. But, wasn’t this what I wanted to see most? The people I loved, continuing to live. Living well. So why did I feel so sad when my wish came true? I spent an unknown number of days and nights in a daze in that empty house. Sometimes I was in a deep sleep. Sometimes even when I was awake, it felt like I was asleep. Sometimes I’d listen closely to the footsteps in the hallway. The clearer they were, the quieter the house felt. I even started to think that repeating these days endlessly, with no end in sight, was going to be my fate. But suddenly… I heard the front door of my house click open. Was it a burglar? I floated over cautiously. Standing outside the door were Officer Miller and Officer Davis again. They were knocking on the door and calling my mom’s phone. It looked like they didn’t know we had moved yet. Officer Davis looked incredibly excited. “Captain, do you think we’re finally going to crack Chloe’s case this time?” “It’s been so hard.” “That little girl has waited ten years. She can finally rest in peace.” 8 Officer Miller had been on my case for ten years. He certainly was persistent. Even my parents had let go of me, their dead daughter, but he was still holding on. But, what was he holding on for? Even if he found out the truth, so what? I couldn’t come back to life. I yawned and went back to sleep. After a long wait, it finally got noisy outside again. This time, it was my parents who came back. They probably chose to meet here because they didn’t want the officers going to their new house. I hadn’t seen her in a few days, and my mom looked a bit haggard. Over the years, every time the police visited, she would suffer from insomnia for days. Because she hadn’t slept well, her attitude wasn’t very friendly. “Why are you here again?” “All these years, you’ve never been able to figure out who killed my daughter.” “You arrest someone, then let them go. You let them go, then arrest someone else. Every time you say you have new leads, a new suspect.” “Do you have any idea how awful it feels to have your hopes crushed over and over again?” My mom spoke very rapidly. But this time, even Officer Davis didn’t look impatient. Instead, he explained earnestly: “We recently re-examined the crime scene and found some overlooked evidence. We identified a man whose movements from ten years ago align perfectly with the time and location of the murder.” “Furthermore, you might know him.” My mom acted as if she hadn’t heard a thing, showing absolutely no interest. It was my dad who asked. “Who?” Officer Miller spoke clearly: “Were you at the scene when you saw a man named Mark Lee?” “He was a student you once taught.” “We found a button at the scene, and we successfully pulled his fingerprints from it.” Officer Miller was very enthusiastic. It was the enthusiasm of someone closing in on the truth. But my mom’s eyes remained clouded over. “…No.” “I’ve never seen him.” Officer Miller frowned, emphasizing his words: “The suspect’s family background is complicated. They’ve already had a forensic psychiatric evaluation done for Mark Lee, aiming to get him off the hook.” “You are the sole eyewitness.” “Without your identification, it will be very difficult to move forward with this case.” “So, could we please ask you to undergo hypnosis one more time?” This time, even my dad seemed swayed. I jumped up too, desperately trying to shake my mom’s shoulders. “Do it! Just do it!” “Maybe the bad guy really is him!” But my mom’s expression remained as still as dead wood. She waved her hand dismissively and said exhaustedly, “Don’t try to persuade me. I won’t do it.” She looked up at Officer Miller. She was very calm, even calmer than before. “Chloe is already dead. The dead can’t come back to life.” “But Lily is still alive. I have to plan for the living.” “My life is still wonderful. Why should I spend my days running around for a dead person just for some so-called justice?” 9 Pain flared like wildfire. It burned through every inch of my body. I stared at my mom in utter disbelief. I couldn’t understand why she wouldn’t just try one more time? Even if it was just so I could rest in peace. Even my dad hesitated. He looked like he wanted to urge her. But in the end, he just held my mom’s hand. Then he looked at the two officers. “I listen to my wife.” “I won’t force her to do anything she doesn’t want to do.” This meeting ended on a sour note again. I watched the four of them leave, one by one. My mom was the first to walk away. She turned and left so resolutely. As if she had made some kind of final decision. I chased after her, unwilling to give up. I yelled from behind her, over and over again. “Mom, just try one more time.” “I know you have a new daughter, but I’m your daughter too.” “I promise, once I know the truth, I’ll leave.” But my mom’s pace only quickened. I followed my parents all the way back to their new house. It was a very beautiful little villa. I almost uncontrollably wanted to rush inside. But I forced myself to stop. Because on the doors and windows, there were paper talismans plastered everywhere. A glaring, piercing red. These were talismans meant to keep spirits and ghosts out. My mom… was afraid I’d come back. I suddenly remembered when Lily was just born. A relative gifted them a small wooden peach sword. They said hanging it over the crib would ward off evil spirits. The relative lowered their voice, whispering conspiratorially: “Especially since… Chloe, didn’t she get murdered right outside your front door?” “What if she comes back home?” Back then, the road in front of our house was under construction; it was a mess. My mom was supposed to pick me up that day. But something came up at the last minute, so she told me to walk home alone. I was murdered in an alley just two hundred meters from my house. When my mom realized I was late, she went looking for me and walked right past the killer. On that rainy night, she clearly saw his face. But no matter what, she couldn’t remember it. My mom ended up never hanging that sword. Because she said: “I don’t believe souls actually exist in this world.” “If they really did…” “Then why hasn’t she come home to see me?” But now, on the door of her new home, she had plastered those talismans. My mom really seemed to have let go. I was no longer her family. I was just a wandering, feral ghost threatening the peace of her home. Really, it’s all my fault. I was too greedy. I hoped they would only think of me occasionally. But I also selfishly wished they wouldn’t forget me completely. But in this world, you can’t have it both ways.

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