Working as an hourly maid abroad, the biggest taboo is overstepping your bounds and meddling too much. But when I saw my client’s house was freezing like an icebox, I couldn’t hold back and lent a hand. Turns out, that little favor was a big deal. The client was so thrilled he almost bowed down to me on the spot. When I opened my eyes the next morning, oh boy, the entire town of locals had formed a massive line outside my door, complete with deli-style number tickets. The old guy I worked for had a QR code hanging around his neck and a card reader in his hand, grinning from ear to ear: “Dear Maya, we’re going to strike it rich.” 1 I’ve been in this American town called “Mist Valley” for three years. My name is Maya. Thirty-five years old, no degree, no background, just a pair of hands that can’t stay idle. I didn’t come here for anything else but to earn medical fees for my daughter back home. Being an hourly maid—getting paid by the hour—is the most cost-effective job I could find. Today’s client is Mr. Arthur Sterling. He’s an old gentleman living alone. He has more books than furniture and keeps an orange tabby named “Toffee.” Usually, this old guy is quite particular but never nitpicks. However, the moment I walked in today, I felt something was off. The house was as cold as a morgue. Snowflakes were swirling outside the window, and there wasn’t a hint of warmth inside. Arthur was huddled in a rocking chair in front of the fireplace, wrapped in two heavy quilts, his face as white as a sheet of paper. The fireplace was black, unlit. “Morning, Maya,” he forced a trembling smile at me. “Morning, Mr. Sterling.” I put down my rag, rubbed my freezing fingers, and touched the radiator by the wall. Bone-chilling cold. “Heater broken?” Arthur sighed, a sound so pitiful it broke my heart. “It went on strike three days ago, my dear Maya.” “What about the repairman?” “I made an appointment. They said all the boilers in town conspired to freeze me to death. My number is up next Tuesday.” Today is only Thursday. In this godforsaken weather, a seventy-something old man and an old cat toughing it out for five days? This isn’t living; this is a survival challenge. “What about the fireplace? Why not light it?” “The chimney is blocked. I have to wait for those gentlemen with licenses to come and clear it too.” I felt a wave of speechlessness. This is America for you—rules trump everything, human lives take a back seat. I turned on the vacuum cleaner and started working. The buzzing echoed in the empty house, making it feel even colder. Arthur was coughing like he was going to hack up a lung. That old cat, Toffee, completely abandoned its dignity and rubbed around my ankles, treating me like a human heating pad. After tidying the living room, I pointed to the basement. “Sir, mind if I take a look down there?” “Go ahead, it’s just a bit messy.” I pushed open the basement door, and a smell of mold mixed with freezing air hit me in the face. Following the stairs down, that ancient gas boiler was squatting in the corner like a dead iron monster. This was the heart of the house, but unfortunately, it had stopped beating. I’m not a professional technician or anything. But my dad was a veteran fitter back home, dealing with boilers his whole life. I spent a lot of my childhood hanging around the workshop. I more or less understand the temperamental nature of these old-style boilers. Most of the time, they aren’t actually broken; they just need a good tune-up. I didn’t dare to mess with it recklessly. I leaned in and listened first. It was dead silent inside, not even the sound of airflow. I was thinking it’s better to avoid trouble. If I broke it, I couldn’t afford to pay for it even if I sold myself. But the old man upstairs kept coughing, one hack after another, making my heart flutter with anxiety. Then I looked at the freezing cat at my feet, its fur puffed up. Alright, screw it. My dad used to say, fixing this stuff starts with a “stethoscope” check. I knocked on the main intake pipe with my knuckles. A muffled thud. If it were clear, the sound would be crisp. Just from hearing that, I knew something was blocking it inside, or the gas pressure couldn’t build up. I glanced at the nameplate. An ancient American Standard model, crusty with age. Simple structure, sturdy and durable. The easiest place for this thing to act up is just one spot—the filter. Arthur’s toolbox was hanging on the wall. I picked out a wrench, took a deep breath, and shut off the main gas valve. When I was unscrewing the filter cap, my palms were sweating profusely. The cap was screwed on incredibly tight. I gritted my teeth, using every ounce of strength I had. Click. It loosened. A faint smell of gas drifted out. I pulled out the filter screen and took a look. Oh boy. It was caked with black sludge and rust flakes, completely airtight. If gas could pass through this, it would be a miracle. I grabbed the filter screen, ran upstairs, and headed straight for the kitchen. Arthur looked at me holding this black, grimy chunk of iron with a bewildered expression. I didn’t waste any time. Dish soap, steel wool brush, scrubbed it shiny in three minutes flat, then dried it with a hairdryer. Back downstairs. Reinstall, tighten, open the valve. A hissing sound of airflow immediately came from the pipes. I walked up to the boiler and pressed the ignition button. Whoosh! A blue flame shot up through the observation window. A wave of heat hit my face. That feeling was better than winning the lottery. I dusted off my hands and went upstairs. Arthur was standing at the basement door, his eyes practically popping out of his head. A few minutes later, the sound of flowing water came from the radiators. The temperature in the house began to rise. The old man trembled as he walked over, touching the radiator with an expression as reverent as if he were touching the heel of God. Suddenly, he turned around and strode toward me. His knees bent, about to kneel on the floor. “Hey, hey, hey! Don’t do that!” I was scared half to death, quickly catching him, so panicked my native language slipped out. “You’ll shorten my lifespan!” The old man was flushed with excitement, gripping my hands tightly: “Maya! Good Lord! You are not a maid at all!” He roared with the tone of an operatic tenor: “You are the mysterious Boiler Whisperer from the East!” I was still clutching that wrench, completely dumbfounded. What the heck? Whisperer? I thought it was just the delirious nonsense of an overly excited old man. Even though I explained eight hundred times that this was just some superficial knowledge I learned from my dad, Arthur still looked at me like I was a hidden master. “No, Maya, this isn’t technique, this is witchcraft! The mysterious power of the East!” Alright then, whatever you say. When I was leaving that day, the old man insisted on stuffing three times my wages into my hands. I refused; that money burned to hold. But he shoved it into my pocket with a dead-serious face: “This is what the ‘Whisperer’ deserves. Your value is only going to go up from here.” On my way home, my eyelid kept twitching. I had a feeling something was going to happen. Mist Valley was too small a town to hide secrets. That rundown dive bar in town was the intelligence center, and Arthur was definitely going to have a couple of drinks tonight. When that old man had too much to drink, his mouth had no filter. Sure enough. Early the next morning, I was woken up by a commotion. When I pulled back the curtains and looked, I almost passed out. Outside my door, a line of people stretched all the way to the street corner. These locals were bundled up like burritos, snot freezing on their faces, clutching handmade number tickets. Their eyes didn’t look like they were here for repairs; they looked like they were on a pilgrimage. At the very front of the line stood Arthur, wearing a crisp tuxedo and a bowtie, looking as sharp as a wedding officiant. The most outrageous part was that he was holding a portable card reader. There was a knock on the door. I braced myself and opened it. “Morning! My partner!” Arthur’s face was glowing red. He pointed at the crowd behind him: “Look! Business has come knocking!” “Who… who are all these people?” “Every unlucky soul whose heater has broken down!” The old man grinned so wide he couldn’t close his mouth. “I told them the miracle worker from the East is right here!” “No, I…” “Don’t be modest, my dear.” Arthur waved the card reader in front of my face. “I’ve consulted a lawyer, and the liability waivers are all signed.” “Just to take a look, fifty bucks.” “If you fix it, anywhere from two hundred to five hundred bucks.” “I handle the customers and the money, you handle the magic. We split it fifty-fifty.” He lowered his voice, a sly gleam in his eye: “Maya, we’re going to be rich.” I looked at the spectacle, my brain buzzing. This wasn’t just a good deed gone wrong; this was a good deed turned into a mythological epic. “I can’t do this, I don’t have a license!” I tried a last-ditch struggle. “You can! You’re incredibly capable!” The lady at the front holding the number 1 ticket rushed up: “Arthur’s boiler was supposed to have its core replaced for three thousand bucks! You touched it once and it was fixed! You are a god!” I finally understood. This was an information gap. The official repairman in town was a total scammer with shoddy skills, ripping these locals off terribly. My amateur tinkering was a dimensional strike in their eyes. “Please save my kids!” “We’re freezing to death in there!” Looking at those expectant faces, and then looking at Arthur’s “trust me, you can’t go wrong” posture. I knew I wasn’t getting out of my house today. I sighed, went back inside, and dragged out the tool bag I hadn’t thrown away even though it was rusting. “Let’s go, first house.” The crowd cheered like it was New Year’s Eve. Arthur cleared his throat, immediately getting into character: “Mrs. Bell, swipe your card first. Fifty bucks diagnostic fee, no credit.” Beep. The sound of a successful transaction was crisp and pleasant. Arthur winked at me: “Grand opening.” 2 So, I was basically forced into becoming the town’s traveling quack doctor. Mrs. Bell’s boiler was also an antique. I took one look. The ignition pin was bent. I grabbed my pliers, straightened it out, and turned it on. Whoosh. Fixed. The whole process took less than three minutes. Mrs. Bell screamed, threw herself at me, and planted a kiss on my cheek, looking like she wanted to adopt me as her godmother. “Two hundred bucks, thank you for your patronage.” Arthur smilingly presented the card reader. Mrs. Bell swiped it with absolute delight: “So worth it! Much cheaper than that bloodsucking repairman!” For the rest of the day, I was like a doctor on rounds. Second house, the water pump was jammed with scale. Cleared it, fixed. Third house, the thermostat wire was loose. Tightened it, fixed. Fourth house… I discovered that ninety percent of the boilers in this town had idiotic problems. They didn’t need replacement parts at all; they just needed cleaning and tweaking. That official repairman was either genuinely stupid or rotten to the core, specializing in scamming these clueless locals. By the end of the day, I had fixed fifteen houses. Arthur trailed behind me, handling the business side flawlessly. When we split the money that night, the old man slapped a thick stack of hundred-dollar bills into my hand. “Eighteen hundred bucks, your share.” Holding the money, I felt like I was dreaming. I couldn’t make this much washing dishes for a month, and today I just wiggled a wrench? “Maya, you are a genius.” “No, I’m just picking up the scraps.” “Picking up scraps is a skill too.” When I got home, the crowd at the door had dispersed, but there was an extra wooden sign. Arthur’s handiwork, written in cursive: “The Boiler Whisperer of the East, Maya’s Studio. Limited to 20 appointments daily. No latecomers accepted.” I rubbed my temples, feeling like this situation was getting out of hand. Sure enough, what you fear most is what happens. The next day, a black Mercedes G-Wagon blocked my driveway. The door opened, and a burly man wearing overalls with a face full of aggressive fat stepped out. He glanced at the wooden sign, then looked at me as I just stepped out the door. His eyes were as cold and venomous as a rattlesnake’s. He walked straight over and blocked my path. “Are you that ‘Whisperer’ stealing my business?” My heart skipped a beat. I touched someone else’s slice of the pie, and the owner came knocking. I knew this burly guy, or rather, the whole town knew him. Gary, the only licensed HVAC repairman in Mist Valley, and also the Mayor’s nephew. This guy looked like a grizzly bear walking upright. The pipe wrench in his hand was thicker than my arm. On a normal day, fixing a water pipe meant prying up someone’s floorboards, and changing a lightbulb cost a fifty-dollar call-out fee. Right now, those beady eyes of his were staring daggers at me, like he wanted to swallow me alive. “I’m Gary.” He took a step forward, the smell of unwashed motor oil rushing straight to my brain. “Did you get my permission to run wild on my turf?” I instinctively shrank back. After all, this was America. I didn’t have status or background. If I really provoked the local snake, I’d definitely be the one suffering. “Misunderstanding, it’s all a misunderstanding…” I was just about to explain. But Arthur leaped out like a protective mother hen, shielding me. Don’t let his usual wheezing fool you; right now, his back was straight as a ramrod, instantly radiating that aristocratic aura. “Mr. Gary,” Arthur slowly adjusted his bowtie, “Please watch your language. This is private property, and Ms. Maya is my… personal technical consultant.” “Consultant?” Gary sneered, spitting a thick wad of phlegm onto the snow. “A maid holding a rag? Sounds like a scammer to me! I have a full set of state-certified HVAC licenses. What does she have? She’s working illegally!” That was a huge accusation to throw around. My heart tightened, and my palms started sweating. If I got reported and deported, my daughter’s medical fees would be completely gone. “I’m calling the cops!” Gary pulled out his phone with a sinister grin. “Let’s have the police come see if this ‘Whisperer’ actually has a work visa!” The neighbors waiting in line began to whisper among themselves. Some looked worried, others were ready for the show. I tugged at Arthur’s sleeve and whispered, “Mr. Sterling, maybe we should just stop. We’ll refund their money…” “Refund what!” Arthur glared back at me, then turned around, pulled a pair of gold-rimmed glasses from his breast pocket, and put them on. In that moment, the old man’s aura completely changed. If he was just a money-grubbing little old man a second ago, now he looked like a Chief Justice sitting on the Supreme Court bench. “Call the police? Great idea.” Arthur smiled warmly. “As it happens, I’d love to have a chat with the police too. Regarding that ‘brand new’ water pump you installed for Mrs. Bell last month—why does it have a 2010 manufacturing date stamped on it? And Mr. Miller’s thermostat—why did you charge him an eight-hundred-dollar motherboard replacement fee when you only changed a battery?” Gary’s face instantly dropped, his phone frozen in mid-air. “You… what nonsense are you talking about!” “Whether it’s nonsense or not, we can have the police take those replaced parts in for authentication.” Arthur took a step forward, his gaze as sharp as a knife. “Fraud in this state starts at what, a three-year sentence? Mr. Gary, does your prison cell need its heater fixed?” Dead silence. I was stunned. This old man rarely left his house, how did he know the town’s gossip… no, the details of these commercial frauds so clearly? The fat on Gary’s face twitched, his eyes darting around. He was a bully who only picked on the weak. If they really investigated to the bottom of it, his ass was covered in crap. “Fine… you play hardball.” Gary gritted his teeth, pointing viciously at me. “We’ll see about this. Don’t think fixing two busted furnaces makes you a master. In a couple of days, the Mayor’s central heating system needs maintenance. I’d love to see how you handle that mess!” With that, he climbed into his G-Wagon, slammed the gas pedal to the floor, and sped off, spraying us with exhaust. “Bah! Scum!” Arthur elegantly waved his hand to clear the exhaust, turned to me, and winked. “Handled.” I looked at the old man, gulping. “Sir, who exactly are you?” “Me?” Arthur shrugged, returning to his profiteer persona. “Just a retired, nosy former diplomat. Don’t just stand there, dear Maya. We just wasted ten minutes, and time is money! Next!” 3 After the scene Gary caused, my reputation didn’t plummet; it skyrocketed. Even the “local snake” was chased away by us. What did that mean? It meant we had backbone! It meant we had real skills! In the days that followed, I was insanely busy. Arthur turned his living room into a waiting room, even setting up a makeshift ticket-calling system. That old cat Toffee became the mascot, letting anyone who offered canned food pet him, absolutely shameless. I also gradually figured out a hybrid “East meets West” repair theory. The American mindset is rigid: if it’s broken, replace it. Whatever breaks, replace that part. Sometimes they even replace it when it’s not broken. I’m different. I’m someone used to living poor, believing in “make do and mend.” For example, Uncle George’s oven door wouldn’t close tightly, leaking heat. Gary quoted six hundred bucks to replace the door. I grabbed a screwdriver, removed the spring from the door hinge, shoved a tiny wood chip inside the loosened spring to increase the tension. Done in two minutes. Uncle George looked at the perfectly sealed oven door, almost in tears: “Good Lord, what’s the science behind this?” I wiped my hands and spouted nonsense: “It’s called ‘Wood generates Fire,’ the Eastern art of balancing the Five Elements.” Arthur, standing by, translated vividly: “Ancient Eastern Magic, Wood boosts Fire.” Uncle George pulled out three hundred bucks on the spot and insisted on giving me a basket of homegrown potatoes. Another example: Aunt Susan’s washing machine vibrated like it was trying to take flight during the spin cycle. Gary said the motor bearings were shot and the whole machine needed replacing. I laid on the floor, took one look, and noticed the base was uneven. I found a piece of scrap cardboard, folded it a few times, and wedged it under the front-left foot. The washing machine instantly quieted down like a sleeping chicken. Aunt Susan covered her mouth in terror: “Did… did you cast an immobilizing spell on it?” I nodded calmly: “Yep, it’s called ‘Steady as Mount Tai’.” Arthur: “Solid as Mount Tai.” Another two hundred bucks in the bag. In just one week, Arthur and my split income had surpassed ten thousand dollars. I looked at the number in my bank account, my hands trembling. This wasn’t making money; this was robbery. But I always felt uneasy. Gary’s parting words, “The Mayor’s central heating,” stuck in my heart like a thorn. Sure enough, what you fear most is what happens. Friday evening, a black stretch SUV pulled up outside Arthur’s house. The window rolled down, revealing a stern face. It was the Mayor. And sitting in the passenger seat was Gary, sporting a look of gloating schadenfreude. “Mr. Sterling,” the Mayor’s tone was polite but carried an undeniable authority, “I heard you have a… magical Eastern technician here?” “Mr. Mayor, your presence graces my humble home.” Arthur greeted him with a beaming smile, not intimidated in the slightest. “My home’s heating system has a massive problem,” the Mayor sighed. “Gary’s been fixing it for three days, and it’s only getting colder. I’m hosting a charity gala tonight, and state senators will be attending. If the house is freezing then, I’ll be a laughingstock.” Gary chimed in sarcastically from the side: “Uncle, I told you the system is totally shot and needs a full replacement. You’re the one who insisted on believing in this ‘Whisperer’. Since she’s so magical, let her try, right? If she can’t fix it, well…” He didn’t finish the sentence, but the threat was obvious. If we messed up the Mayor’s gala, we could forget about staying in Mist Valley. Arthur looked at me, a questioning look in his eyes. I took a deep breath and slung my tool bag over my shoulder. If I backed down now, all the money and reputation I’d earned would have to be spat right back out. “Let’s go,” I said concisely. The Mayor’s house was as big as a castle. The boiler room in the basement was bigger than my entire apartment. That central heating unit was a behemoth. Complex pipes zig-zagged everywhere, and the control panels were densely packed, making me dizzy just looking at it. Gary crossed his arms and leaned against the doorframe, wearing an expression that said he was waiting for a good show. “This is the latest smart climate control system, fully computerized. Lady, can you even read the English manual?” I ignored him and walked straight to the unit. The machine was running, rumbling loudly, but the output pipe was ice cold. A string of red error codes flashed on the display screen: E04. I didn’t know English, but I knew machines. Machines are like people. If something is uncomfortable, they react. I placed my hand on the casing of the circulation pump. Scalding hot. The pump was spinning, but the water wasn’t moving. What did that mean? It meant there was air inside. An airlock. Usually, in this situation, you just need to open the bleeder valve and release the air. But I looked all around, and this high-tech machine actually didn’t have a manual bleeder valve! It was all automatic electronic valves! Gary sneered from the side: “Stop looking. I’ve already replaced three automatic bleeder valves, useless. The motherboard program is locked out. We have to have the manufacturer send someone to rewrite the program, next week at the earliest.” Next week? The Mayor would be a popsicle by then. I circled the machine three times, my mind racing, recalling my dad’s teachings from back in the day. “Only an idiot just looks at the computer; a living person looks at the pipes.” If the electronic valve won’t release the air, then I’d make a hole for it. My eyes locked onto a pressure gauge fitting right above the circulation pump. “Shut off the main breaker!” I shouted. Gary didn’t move: “Are you crazy? If you break it messing around, can you afford it? This system costs a hundred grand!” “Shut it off!” Arthur bellowed, his presence intimidating. Gary jumped in fright and reluctantly pulled the main breaker. The machine stopped. I pulled out my wrench, locked it onto the nut of the pressure gauge fitting, and forcefully torqued it. “What are you trying to do? That’s a pressure sensing zone!” Gary started screaming. I ignored him and quickly loosened the nut. Hiss—! A burst of high-pressure gas mixed with black water instantly shot out, splattering all over me. I pressed down hard on the nut, controlling the volume of the spray. The sound of gas escaping lasted for a full thirty seconds before it turned into a steady flow of water. Now! With lightning speed, I swiftly tightened the nut, locking it down. “Turn on the breaker!” I yelled. Gary froze. “I said turn on the breaker!” I raised my wrench, my eyes fierce. Gary was intimidated by me and tremblingly flipped the breaker back up. Hummm— The machine restarted. This time, that heavy, muffled rumbling changed; it became light and smooth. A few seconds later, the needle on the output pipe’s temperature gauge started to climb visibly. 68 degrees, 86 degrees, 113 degrees… A wave of warmth surged up the pipes toward the upper floors. I wiped the black water off my face and let out a long sigh. Turning around, Gary’s mouth was hanging open, his jaw practically on the floor. “This… this is impossible! That was violent dismantling! It’s an OSHA violation!” “It’s called ‘Cupping therapy’.” I looked at him coldly. “When the blood and qi are blocked, you gotta let out the pressure. Machines are dead, people are alive. If you only trust the computer and not physics, you’ll only ever be a parts-replacer.” Rapid footsteps sounded on the stairs. The Mayor rushed down, face flushed red, excited: “It’s hot! It’s hot! The radiators are burning hot!” He rushed over and grabbed my oil-stained hands: “Maya! You are my lifesaver! You are the miracle of Mist Valley!” I calmly pulled my hands back: “Mr. Mayor, the fee might be a bit higher this time.” “No problem! Double! No, triple!” Arthur opportunely presented the card reader, smiling like a blooming sunflower: “With gratitude. Expedite fee, technical guidance fee, and emotional distress fee, totaling two thousand dollars.” Gary’s face was ashen. He shrank into the corner like a defeated mangy dog. In that moment, I knew I had firmly planted my feet in Mist Valley.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “392037”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

On our wedding night, my husband suddenly died right on top of me. My mother-in-law broke the door down, beating and cursing me, calling me a cursed jinx who brought death to her son. I stood there, stunned by the beating, when bizarre, floating comments suddenly appeared before my eyes: [The male lead is so smart to choose his wedding night to fake his death! He gets to fly off into the sunset with his beloved childhood sweetheart, AND he makes the female side character bear all the blame. Killing two birds with one stone!] [In a bit, the male lead will escape from his coffin like a cicada shedding its shell. The female side character will live the rest of her life drowning in guilt, working herself to the bone for his family.] I froze. I was the “female side character”? My husband was faking his death on our wedding night to run away with the “female lead”? I turned my head stiffly. My mother-in-law shoved me aside, wailing, and pointed at the burly men waiting outside with a coffin. “My son! Mommy is going to have you put in this coffin right now so you can rest in peace!” In her dreams. The men pushed into the room, just about to lift my husband from the wedding bed. I lunged forward, brandishing our marriage certificate. “I am his legally wedded wife! I have the final say on his funeral arrangements, and I forbid him from being put in that coffin!” Out of the corner of my eye, I glared at my husband, whose face was as pale as a genuine corpse. Wants to be dead? I’ll grant his wish! … Hearing my words, my mother-in-law lunged at me and slapped me hard across the face. “You jinx! I haven’t even settled the score with you for killing Arthur, and now you won’t even let him rest in peace! What the hell are you planning?!” She glared at me viciously, then turned to the men behind her. “Tie her up and throw her out.” “No one is stopping Arthur from resting in peace today!” I touched my stinging cheek, staring at the men preparing to advance. The floating text appeared before my eyes again: [The mother-in-law never liked the female side character anyway. If it wasn’t for her family’s wealth and her willingness to bend over backward for them, she never would have been allowed into the Sterling family.] [The male lead finally saved enough for the astronomical bride price the female lead’s family demanded. Get out of the way, female side character!] My eyes narrowed, my heart violently constricting with a sickening pain. To marry Arthur Sterling, I hadn’t asked for a single cent in bride price. I even brought millions in dowry to the Sterling family. When his mother fell ill, I arranged for her to stay in the best hospital, bought her the most expensive imported medications, and had boxes of exorbitant health supplements delivered to their door. I thought I could trade genuine sincerity for the same in return. I never imagined that this mother and son had been scheming against me from the very beginning! I looked at my mother-in-law’s fierce face, reached out to tightly grip her hand, and let tears slide down my cheeks. “Mom, it’s not that I don’t want Arthur to rest in peace. I want to hold a three-day wake for him.” “According to the customs of my hometown, someone who dies a sudden, violent death carries a heavy resentment. They need a three-day wake to receive the respects of the living. This disperses the resentment and allows them to reincarnate smoothly.” The floating comments suddenly became agitated: [What kind of nonsense is the female side character spouting? The female lead is waiting for the male lead at the edge of town so they can run away together. A three-day wake?! I feel so bad for our precious female lead.] [The mother-in-law ships the male and female leads so hard, she definitely won’t let the side character get her way.] My mother-in-law forcefully shook off my hand. “The custom here is immediate burial! If you try to stop it again, I won’t hold back!” I steadied myself from almost falling, stepped aside, and allowed the men to lift Arthur into the coffin. Watching my mother-in-law’s smug expression, I lowered my eyes mockingly and spoke slowly: “Mom, according to the customs of my hometown, everyone who comes to pay respects to someone who died a sudden death offers a ten-thousand-dollar red envelope to help disperse the resentment.” “Whenever my parents attend a friend’s funeral, they always give a pound of gold. Arthur is my husband; the amount they give will only be more, not less. If we bury him right now… there won’t be anything.” Hearing this, my mother-in-law snapped her head toward me, her voice rising sharply. “Is that true?” I nodded. “Absolutely true.” Her conflicted gaze darted back and forth between me and Arthur. Ultimately, greed conquered all. “He must be kept here for three days! You tell your parents and relatives to come pay their respects. All the money they give belongs to the Sterling family!” The comments instantly panicked: [The mother-in-law is so stupid! This is clearly a trap by the female side character!] [Wait, why isn’t the female side character following the plot? She’s supposed to watch helplessly as the male lead is carried away.] [Don’t panic. The fake-death pill the male lead took is the real deal; it cost tens of thousands. He’ll appear dead for seven days. Making a huge profit in three days is a good deal.] Tens of thousands? Arthur, a man so stingy he’d insist on buying only one-eighth of a cake, actually spent that much for the female lead. He really went all out. But this time, he wasn’t going to survive to run off with his beloved. My mother-in-law, looking wary, led the men out of the room. The next second, I heard the lock click from the outside. “To stop you from trying any tricks, you’re going to stay in this room with Arthur until your family gets here. You are not allowed to come out.” I didn’t say a word. My gaze fell on Arthur lying in the coffin. I leaned over him, burst into loud, theatrical wails, and began slapping him across the face, one hard strike after another. “Arthur! How could you bear to leave me like this?! Get up and look at me! What am I going to do without you…” “Don’t worry, from now on, your mother is my own mother. I will definitely fulfill your duty of filial piety to her.” As the footsteps outside faded away, I looked at Arthur’s flushed, blood-engorged cheeks. I sat tiredly on the bed, let out a long breath, and pulled out my phone to call my father. “Dad, Arthur suddenly died. I want to give him a grand funeral.” “Please invite every prominent figure in the city, especially Arthur’s immediate superiors.” “Also, bring a lot of bodyguards tomorrow. I need to ensure the absolute safety of Arthur’s body!” As soon as I said this, a wave of wailing flooded the comments: [Oh no, oh no! Arthur just wanted to quietly fake his death and be with the female lead. With the female side character making such a huge scene, is she trying to let the whole world know he’s dead?!] [The female side character is too vicious! She’s even notifying his bosses. He only took a month off for his honeymoon and planned to go back to work after!] [Wake up, male lead! If you don’t wake up now, you’re going to be dead for real!] … Before dawn the next day, my parents arrived with relatives, friends, and a small army of bodyguards. Startled, my mother-in-law immediately unlocked the door. I hadn’t slept all night. My face was pale, my eyes red and swollen. Seeing my parents, I threw myself at them, wailing loudly. “Mom! Dad! It’s all my fault! If it weren’t for me, Arthur wouldn’t be dead! It’s all my fault! I owe the Sterling family everything!” My mother wiped her tears while comforting me. My father looked at my mother-in-law apologetically and pulled a red velvet bag from his coat. “In-law, I never imagined such a tragedy would occur. Here is a pound of gold. According to our local customs, during the three-day wake, this gold must be placed under Arthur’s head so his soul can find peace.” My mother-in-law eagerly snatched the red bag, barely suppressing the smile on her lips. “Arthur had a hard life… to pass away on his wedding night… But a body can only be kept for three days. Our custom is still to bury him as soon as possible.” My father nodded and began outlining the schedule for the next three days. “Today, friends and family will pay their respects. Tomorrow, city officials I work with and Arthur’s superiors will come. And the day after…” My father turned to me, hesitating, then looked back at my mother-in-law. “Don’t worry, In-law. I promise to give Arthur a grand send-off.” My mother-in-law stared worriedly at Arthur in the coffin, whose cheeks were bright red from my slapping. Just as she was about to speak, over a dozen bodyguards surged into the room, blocking everyone irrelevant from entering. Watching my mother-in-law stumble backward in panic, I lowered my eyes mockingly. According to our customs, on the third day, I’ll spend the whole day alone with Arthur, and that night… he goes straight into the incinerator. The floating comments instantly grew tense again: [Holy shit! The female side character’s custom is to secretly cremate the male lead on the third night?!] [That’s too evil! Female lead baby, hurry up and save the male lead!] Suddenly, there was a commotion at the door. A fresh-faced woman wearing no makeup walked in. She tried to push past the bodyguards but was shoved back. Her expression shifted. She stood on her tiptoes, peering through the gaps between the bodyguards at Arthur in the coffin. Tears streamed down her face. “Arthur… I’m too late.” Arthur? What an intimate nickname. She must be the “female lead” the comments kept mentioning. I looked her up and down. Covered head to toe in designer brands, at first glance, she looked like the pampered daughter of a wealthy family. But her dry, yellowing split ends betrayed her entire disguise. Add in the fact that she was Arthur’s childhood sweetheart, and it was glaringly obvious whose money bought those clothes. My mother-in-law snapped out of her daze, marched over, grabbed the woman’s wrist, and forcefully pushed her way through the gap between the bodyguards. “This is Arthur’s childhood sweetheart, and I am his own mother! What right do you have to keep us out?!” The bodyguards remained silent, simply blocking my mother-in-law’s attempts to force her way in. After several failed attempts, my mother-in-law’s furious gaze landed on me. “Chloe! Tell them to let me and Mia in!” The corners of my mouth twitched, and just as I was about to speak, Mia looked at me with an incredibly frail, pitiful expression. “You must be Arthur’s new wife? I am his childhood sweetheart… I beg you, let his mother and me in to see him one last time.” The comments suddenly exploded: [Hurry up and let the female lead in! She has the antidote to wake him up immediately!] [Female lead baby, only you can save him! You have to force your way in!] An antidote to wake him up? Then I absolutely couldn’t let her in. I lifted my gaze and coldly instructed the bodyguards: “Except for members of the Hastings family, no one else is allowed inside!” Hearing this, my mother-in-law erupted into a string of curses. “Chloe, you cursed jinx! What exactly are you trying to do?! Arthur is my son! What right do you have to stop me from seeing him?!” What right? Shedding my usual eager-to-please demeanor toward her, I stared back with intense authority. “By the right that Arthur Sterling is my legally wedded husband!” She froze for a second, then immediately collapsed to the floor, wailing dramatically. “Oh, my son! What kind of wife did you marry?! How dare she treat me and Mia like this…” Watching her theatrical, funeral-dirge performance, I turned away mockingly and told the bodyguards nearby: “Find somewhere to lock those two up. We must ensure absolutely nothing goes wrong over these three days.” The comments completely melted down: [What are we going to do?! The female side character locked the female lead up! The male lead is doomed!] [Is Chloe insane?! She’s committing intentional murder!] Intentional murder? I strode toward the mourning hall my family was setting up. This was only the beginning. Tomorrow was the real show! By 10 AM the next morning, various city officials had arrived to pay their respects. Arthur’s direct supervisor arrived with great fanfare, bringing over a dozen reporters and putting on a hypocritical display of fake crying. “Heaven is jealous of true talent! How could such a good man like Arthur just be gone…” While he “cried,” he made sure to pose at the perfect angle for the reporters’ cameras. This supervisor was a master of media manipulation, superficial acts, and exaggeration—a massive blowhard. When he first found out Arthur was my boyfriend, he hyped up two minor incidents to make Arthur look like a superstar at work, resulting in a rapid promotion within six months. I specifically had my father invite him precisely so the entire world would know Arthur Sterling was dead. After dozens of rapid-fire photos, he bragged to my father for a bit, then left satisfied with his entourage of reporters. Half an hour later, major media outlets began reporting the news of Arthur Sterling’s passing. The local police even personally delivered Arthur’s death certificate to my hands. Staring at the stark black-and-white text, I looked mockingly at Arthur in the coffin, letting tears stream down my cheeks. “Arthur, my heart aches so much. I can’t bear to look at you like this anymore.” “I’ll send you to the funeral home for cremation tonight, okay…” I knelt sorrowfully before his coffin, choking back “sobs.” “In our next life, we’ll be husband and wife again!” The people around looked at me with deep sympathy. My parents, their eyes red, spoke up: “His mother also wished for Arthur to be laid to rest as soon as possible.” “I’ve already arranged the hearse. Since Arthur has seen everyone he needed to see, doing it a day early won’t hurt.” Everyone nodded in agreement, but the comments were going crazy: [What is the female side character’s family doing?! They’re cremating the male lead without even telling the female lead and the mother-in-law?!] [The female lead is using a hairpin to pick the lock! She almost has it open! The male lead is going to be saved!] Saved? Arthur Sterling was going into that incinerator today no matter what! I mournfully followed the pallbearers outside. When I reached the door, I grabbed a bodyguard and lowered my voice. “Keep a close eye on my mother-in-law. In exactly one hour, personally escort them to the funeral home.” I wanted my mother-in-law and his precious childhood sweetheart to personally pick out Arthur’s urn! Half an hour later, the hearse stopped at the funeral home. I stood by the coffin, looking at my parents with red eyes. “I want to go in and personally push Arthur into the incinerator.” My parents nodded sorrowfully. “Alright. Consider it your final goodbye to him.” I followed the pallbearers down the staff corridor. Arthur was moved from his coffin onto a metal gurney with wheels. A staff member looked at me with a numb expression. “Just push it hard along the tracks, and it will go straight into the incinerator.” I looked at Arthur’s pale face, my grip on the metal gurney tightening slightly, my heart aching intensely. Why fake your death to trick me for a woman who is inferior to me in every way? You had already found the best wife and gained everything others could only dream of… Why didn’t you know how to cherish it?! I gripped the edge of the gurney again, hardened my heart, and gave a forceful shove. The metal gurney slid along the tracks toward the open mouth of the incinerator. Watching it roll inside, I slowly closed my eyes. When I opened them again, the comments had exploded: [Holy shit! He’s burning! The male lead is burning in the incinerator!] [The drug suppresses all five senses. He can’t feel any pain right now.] [The female lead just broke in! The male lead is going to be saved!] [The female side character is so evil! When he wakes up, he’s definitely going to divorce her!] I stared at the incinerator, a mocking smirk spreading across my face. Wake up? In his dreams! Suddenly, there was a massive crash at the door. Mia sprinted toward the staff like a madwoman and forcefully yanked the incinerator’s emergency shut-off switch. The roaring flames inside instantly died down. My mother-in-law rushed toward the incinerator, yanked the door open, grabbed the metal gurney, and desperately dragged Arthur out. Seeing this, the staff rushed down from the control panel, their faces pale with anger, shouting: “What are you doing?! A body that isn’t fully cremated can release dangerous pathogens! Push it back in immediately, or I’m calling the police!” My mother-in-law held Arthur, whose face was severely burned and unrecognizable, and glared at me fiercely, wailing loudly. “Chloe, you jinx! I told you Arthur was to be buried in the Sterling family cemetery!” “To burn him to death, you actually locked me and Mia up! How can you be so vicious?!” Me, vicious? If she and Arthur hadn’t tried to trick me with this fake death scheme first, I wouldn’t have pushed him into an incinerator. I lowered my eyes, my gaze falling on Arthur. Even if he didn’t burn to death, looking like that, he probably wouldn’t survive anyway. But I simply refused to let my mother-in-law have her way and take him. I pulled out our marriage certificate and the death certificate. “Arthur and I are legally married. Since there was no division of assets, I have the absolute right to decide whether he is buried or cremated!” My mother-in-law stared at the death certificate in my hand, trembling with rage. “You!” Mia, panting heavily, ran to my mother-in-law’s side. Her gaze instinctively fell on Arthur. She carefully put a little distance between herself and my mother-in-law, looking up at me. “Ms. Hastings, the Sterling family has practiced traditional burial for generations. Furthermore, Arthur is the male heir. By burning him without his mother’s consent, she has the right to punish you by making you kneel in the ancestral hall!” To be able to spout such archaic nonsense so calmly at a time like this… it seems her love for Arthur wasn’t all that deep after all. My mother-in-law was just about to agree when the Arthur in her arms suddenly twitched unconsciously. She stared at him, her face grim. She forcefully hoisted him onto her back and looked at Mia. “Don’t waste words on her, Mia. Let’s go!” Mia nodded and hurried after my mother-in-law, leaving the funeral home. Watching their retreating backs, I followed them with a mocking smile. Since I couldn’t burn him to death, I would watch him be “laid to rest” with my own eyes! At the entrance to the funeral home, my mother-in-law froze when she saw me. The next second, she started cursing me out, trying to cover up her guilt. “You jinx, why did you follow us?!” “I don’t recognize you as my daughter-in-law anymore! Everything that happens to Arthur from now on has nothing to do with you! Get lost!” My grip on the marriage certificate tightened. “The marriage hasn’t been annulled. Legally, I am still Arthur’s wife. I am going to watch him be buried!” My mother-in-law’s face flushed bright red with anxiety. “If it weren’t for you, Arthur wouldn’t be like this! You murderer, what face do you have to watch him be buried?!”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “392036”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

On Christmas Eve, my brother, Liam Davis, placed a thick manila envelope stuffed with cash in front of me. “Em, here’s thirty thousand dollars. We’re getting you that heart bypass surgery tomorrow.” Shutterstock Explore He had hauled cinder blocks on a bad leg at a construction site for a whole year to scrape together this life-saving money. The next day, he accompanied me to the hospital. At the billing window, the nurse said, “This isn’t enough. You’re short twenty-nine thousand.” Liam froze. “Impossible! I gave her thirty grand yesterday!” He whipped his head around to look at me. I lowered my head and whispered, “Liam, the money… I spent it.” “Spent it?!” I pulled a brand-new designer handbag from behind my back. “I bought a bag.” In the hospital corridor, shaking with absolute fury, he slapped me hard across the face. “Emma Davis! That was the money to save your life! How could you?!” I clutched my cheek, glaring back at him with stubborn defiance. “I’d rather die than keep living in this kind of poverty!” 1 “Say that again?” Liam’s palm hovered in mid-air, his voice ice-cold. I met his fierce gaze head-on. “I said, I’d rather die than keep living in poverty! Thirty grand? Thirty grand is barely enough to buy this bag on discount!” The pointing and whispering from passersby pierced him like needles. Liam’s face went from flushed red to a sickly green, and finally, dead white. “Emma,” his voice was hoarse, “you were never like this.” “People change,” I forced a stiff smile. “Liam, you need to start living for yourself. Stop worrying about me. My illness is a bottomless money pit.” “I didn’t fucking ask you to fill it!” he roared. “I just want you to live!” He grabbed my wrist with a grip so tight it felt like he was crushing my bones, dragged me out of the hospital, and shoved me into a taxi. When we got back to our cramped, two-hundred-square-foot studio apartment, he pushed me inside and slammed the door shut. “Give it to me.” He held out his hand. I shook my head, hugging the bag tighter to my chest. “Emma, are you trying to drive me to an early grave?” His voice cracked with a sob. He turned and stormed behind the curtain that divided our tiny space. A second later, he walked out holding a dark green tin box and smashed it fiercely onto the floor. Crash! Cold, metallic military medals scattered across the linoleum. He picked up a yellowed photograph—it was a picture of me, smiling radiantly. He stared at it for a few seconds, and then, right in front of me, he slowly tore the photo into tiny pieces. “You hate being poor, right? Well, these things can’t be traded for money, and they can’t save your life either.” He looked up, his eyes filled with utter despair. “From today on, you are on your own. I don’t care if you live or die.” 2 Liam locked himself behind the curtain and didn’t come out. I sat on the freezing floor, clutching the bag, until the cell phone in my pocket vibrated. It was an anonymous text message: [Got the cash? Tomorrow at noon, the usual place. Try any funny business, and your brother’s ‘glorious deeds’ in the Army will be all over the internet tomorrow.] My heart violently contracted. I quickly deleted the text. “Glorious deeds”… Two years ago, Liam was discharged from the military. It wasn’t an honorable discharge; he was medically separated under a cloud of suspicion, deemed “unfit for continued service.” The day he came back, there was no welcome, no applause. Just a lonely, limping figure and a vague, redacted file. The military gave him a severance payout. But when he got home, he discovered that while he was deployed, our parents had spent everything trying to find a cure for my heart condition. The family went bankrupt, and shortly after, both of our parents were diagnosed with terminal illnesses. They hid it from us. Ultimately, because they couldn’t afford their own surgeries, they both passed away. Liam took all the blame onto himself. He took his military severance, combined it with the meager savings our parents left behind, and locked it all in a savings account. He didn’t dare touch a single cent, vowing it was the money to save my life. Half a month ago, a man named Marcus Thorne contacted me. He was my brother’s former squad mate. “Your brother, Liam, disobeyed direct orders and nearly got our entire squad killed back then. The brass swept it under the rug. But if this gets out, the VA will claw back every dime of his severance, and he’ll be publicly disgraced.” He sent a video clip as proof. “Give me thirty thousand dollars in hush money, or I mail the files to the press.” I knew that honor was Liam’s life. So I agreed. I bought a cheap knockoff designer bag to make the money’s disappearance look “logical.” From behind the curtain came a muffled cough. I knew he wasn’t asleep. I heated up a bowl of leftover Christmas stew and brought it to the curtain. “Liam, eat something.” No response. “If you don’t eat, I won’t eat.” A long time passed before the curtain was violently yanked open. Liam’s eyes were bloodshot, his exhaustion terrifying to look at. He glanced at the bowl in my hands, then at the designer bag on the sofa. A look of pure disgust crossed his face. “Throw it away.” “I won’t.” “Emma!” he growled. “You are the only family I have left in this world! I just want you to live! And you? You take your life-saving money to buy some piece of trash bag?!” “Who are you letting down? Are you letting me down? Are you letting Mom and Dad down?!” “Do you know what Mom’s dying words to me were? She said, ‘Liam, you have to take care of your sister!’” He snatched the bowl from my hands and smashed it onto the floor. Crash! White porcelain shattered everywhere. 3 Terrified, I backed up until I hit the wall. A sharp, violent pain pierced my heart. I clutched my chest, my face draining of color. The madness in his eyes faded, replaced by a flash of panic. “Em…” Using the wall for support, I staggered back to my small corner of the room. “Leave me alone, Liam.” The next day, while he was at the construction site, I sneaked out to meet Marcus. “Where’s the cash?” Marcus blew a smoke ring. I handed him the envelope. “Can you give me the drive now?” “The drive?” He played dumb. “That’s my insurance policy. Why would I just hand it over? Your brother is the reason I got kicked out of the Army. I’m going to take my time settling this score with him.” I trembled with rage. “You’re going back on your word?!” He sneered. “Alright, that’s it for today. Remember, you’re on call. If you dare go to the police, or tell your brother…” He leaned in, his malice undisguised. “I guarantee I’ll ruin his life.” I stood there like a puppet for a long time before walking home. By the time I got back, it was dark. On the table was a steaming bowl of soup and a grilled cheese sandwich, with a sticky note: [Eat while it’s hot.] The handwriting was crooked; he had written it with his left hand. His right hand, ruined from years of heavy labor, could barely hold a pen anymore. Tears fell from my eyes without warning. I ate the meal in large bites, swallowing it down with my tears. The door opened. Liam walked in, covered in concrete dust. He froze when he saw me, then pulled out a chair and sat down. His voice was dry. “The foreman gave me a two-hundred-dollar bonus. I’ll take you to get checked out tomorrow.” “Liam, I don’t want to go.” “Why?” “I know my own body. It can’t be cured.” I looked at him. “Instead of wasting money, I’d rather enjoy myself before I die.” His face darkened. “Stop talking nonsense. You have to get the surgery.” “I’m not doing it!” I raised my voice. “I said it can’t be cured! When Mom and Dad were alive, so many doctors said there was nothing they could do. What exactly are you fantasizing about?!” I stood up, looking down at him. “Liam, we aren’t kids anymore. In this world, you are nothing without money. I don’t want to live a life where I can see the miserable end from a mile away.” “I want pretty clothes. I want a good life. Is that a crime?” “I’m begging you, Liam. Stop torturing me. I just want to enjoy my last few days.” My words were like knives, each one drawing blood. Liam’s lips trembled. The disappointment in his eyes shifted into a total, dead silence. He slowly stood up, his shadow enveloping me. “I understand.” He turned and walked toward the door. “I’ll go make money for you.” “I’ll earn what you want. That good life.” The door clicked shut, cutting off all the light from the outside. 4 Liam truly began to work like a madman. Days at the construction site, evenings hauling lumber, and past midnight, he’d unload trucks at a meatpacking plant. He slept maybe three or four hours a day. We lived under the same roof but acted like strangers. Every time he got paid, he left the cash on the table with a note: Buy whatever you want. I hid it all away. I didn’t touch a single cent. I often wondered—if I didn’t exist, would Mom and Dad still be alive? Would my brother’s life not be so miserable? One night, Marcus showed up at my work. He dangled a USB flash drive. “New material. Your brother didn’t just disobey orders; he assaulted a fellow soldier. Got it right here on video. Fifty grand, and this drive is yours.” “I don’t have that kind of money!” “You don’t, but your brother does. He dotes on you so much. Tell him you want a fifty-thousand-dollar designer bag. He’ll give it to you.” “You have three days. Otherwise, I’m making copies and handing this video to every guy on your brother’s job site.” I went home, my hands and feet icy cold. To my surprise, Liam was there. A few dishes were set on the table, along with a bottle of cheap whiskey. His face was flushed red; he was already drunk. “You’re back?” He lifted heavy eyelids. “Today… is my birthday. It’s also the anniversary of Dad’s death.” My heart violently clenched. “Look at me, the ‘man of the house.’ What a failure, huh?” He laughed self-deprecatingly, swallowing his tears along with the whiskey. “I can’t even protect my only sister, and I let her despise me for being poor.” “Liam, stop drinking!” “Don’t touch me!” He stood up, swaying, and pulled out his wallet. He dumped all the cash out, scattering it across the table. “This is what I made this month. Twelve grand. If it’s not enough, I’ll go make more! I’ll go sell blood right now!” He actually turned to head for the door. “Liam!” I rushed forward and hugged him tightly from behind around his waist. “Don’t do this! I don’t want the money! I don’t want anything!” In the scuffle, my phone fell out of my pocket and hit the floor. The screen lit up. Displayed brightly was my Zelle transfer history. Liam stopped moving. He looked down and saw the phone on the floor. He bent down and picked it up. His pupils shrank violently. He stared at me with an intensity that terrified me. “What is this?” His voice was terrifyingly low. I backed away in terror. The piercing pain in my heart struck again, and my vision started to go black in waves. “It’s… it’s Marcus…” I used my last ounce of strength to say that name. 5 “Marcus…” That name was like a bullet, instantly piercing through the alcohol-numbed nerves in Liam’s brain. A loud ringing echoed in his ears as all his military memories—the ones he had intentionally buried—came rushing back like a flood through an opened dam. Marcus Thorne. The soldier who slacked off under his command. The coward who, during a massive hurricane rescue op in Louisiana, tried to run away and save his own skin, nearly getting a trapped child killed. The scumbag who, during the disciplinary review, twisted the truth, bit back at Liam, and was eventually kicked out of the military. It was him. Liam’s gaze slowly moved from the glaring transfer record on the phone screen to my paper-white face. My body slid down the wall. My breathing was rapid and shallow, my hand pressed tightly against my chest. It felt like an invisible hand was squeezing my heart so hard I couldn’t utter a single word. “Em!” The towering rage and confusion from a second ago were instantly extinguished by a massive wave of panic. He stumbled forward and scooped me up. My body was as light as a feather, trembling faintly in his arms. “Liam…” I grabbed his shirt collar, using the very last of my strength. “I’m sorry… that bag… was a fake…” The arms holding me instantly went rigid. “To protect… your honor… I couldn’t…” I couldn’t get the rest of the words out. Everything went black, and I completely lost consciousness. “Em! Emma!” Liam lost his mind. He carried me and sprinted downstairs. His disabled right leg screamed in agony from the excessive running, but he didn’t feel it. He only knew that the sister in his arms was slipping away from him. He hailed a cab, and it sped through the streets. In the chaos, he kept his eyes glued to me, calling my name over and over. Outside the emergency room, the red light flicked on. Liam stood in the corridor like a stone statue, drenched in sweat, the alcohol completely burned out of his system by cold terror. With trembling hands, he took out my phone and tapped into the locked photo album he had never touched. The password was the exact date his leg was crushed. There was only one photo inside. It was a screenshot Marcus had sent me—from the video of his supposed “insubordination.” Right after, he checked the deleted text messages in the trash folder. […Your brother cares so much about his honor. He wouldn’t want his reputation destroyed, right?] [Give me fifty grand, and this flash drive is yours. Otherwise, everyone at his job site gets a copy of this video.] [Tell him you want a fifty-thousand-dollar bag. He loves you so much, he’ll definitely pay up.] The phone slipped from his trembling hands and hit the floor. Everything made sense now. All those vicious words he couldn’t understand, the “I’d rather die than live in poverty” that had pierced his heart, the designer bag he thought represented vanity and betrayal… It was all fake. It was all his foolish little sister, enduring a torturous blackmail and the dual agony of disease and terror, just to protect him. He remembered the slap he had delivered in a fit of rage in the hospital corridor. He remembered how hysterically he had smashed the bowl of stew she heated up for him. He remembered how he had personally torn up their only family photo right in front of her, shredding her most cherished memory. He remembered the cruelest words he had ever spoken: “From today on, I don’t care if you live or die.” “AH—!” Liam let out a feral roar, slamming his fist brutally against the cold wall. The agonizing pain of fractured knuckles shot up his arm, and blood trailed down the paint, but that physical pain was less than a fraction of the slow torture happening to his heart. He was wrong. Unbelievably wrong. His sister, his only family, had been facing a hellish extortion alone, enduring pain and fear. And he—the brother who prided himself on being the “man of the house”—had delivered the most fatal stab using the most hurtful method possible. He slowly crouched down, burying his head in his knees. This tough veteran, who bled but never cried in the military, sobbed like a child abandoned by the world. “I’m sorry… Em… Liam was wrong… Wake up, hit me, curse at me… please, just wake up…” The doors to the ER swung open. The doctor pulled down his mask, his expression grave. “The patient’s heart failure is critical. The delayed treatment, combined with the severe emotional trauma she just experienced, means she’s missed the optimal window for surgery. We have to operate immediately, but the survival rate… is less than thirty percent. As her family, you need to prepare yourself.” “The surgical fee requires eighty thousand dollars upfront. Please go handle the billing first.” Eighty thousand. Liam’s mind went blank. He had just dumped all twelve thousand dollars he had onto the table at the apartment. Where was he going to find the rest? The doctor looked at his devastated state and sighed. “Hurry. Time waits for no one.” Liam abruptly stood up. He thought of the video on the phone. He immediately picked up the phone and opened the video file. On the screen was footage of him and Marcus engaged in a brutal fistfight. It was the most humiliating memory of his life, the root cause of his medical discharge. But now, as he watched it, there was no humiliation in his eyes—only a blazing, consuming fire meant to burn everything to the ground. He pulled out his phone and dialed the number he knew by heart. “Marcus.” His voice was terrifyingly calm. On the other end of the line, Marcus paused, then laughed smugly. “Well, well, if it isn’t our great hero Liam. How do you have the time to call me? Figured it out? Did your sister finally give you the money?” “Fifty thousand, right?” Liam asked. “No, no, no,” Marcus drawled out. “It’s not fifty anymore. You made me wait this long. Emotional distress, lost wages… Let’s round it up to a hundred thousand. Not a penny less.” “Alright.” Liam agreed with unnatural swiftness. “One hundred thousand. I’ll give it to you.” Marcus clearly hadn’t expected him to fold so easily. He laughed even harder. “Should’ve done this from the start. Send me the address. I’ll come pick it up.” “No need,” Liam said, looking through the window at the glowing ‘EMERGENCY’ sign outside. He spoke each word deliberately. “Come to Central Hospital. I’ll be waiting for you in the courtyard downstairs.” 6 Hanging up the phone, Liam turned and left the hospital. He didn’t go home for the twelve thousand, because he knew it wouldn’t be nearly enough. Limping, he walked toward the other side of the city—to a shady, chaotic black market he had sworn never to set foot in. He pulled a carefully wrapped cloth bundle from his jacket. It contained the medals he had quietly picked up from the floor and pieced back together after smashing the tin box. One Silver Star. Two Army Commendation Medals. Those were the honors he had bought with his life, the proof of all his worth in the first half of his life. “Boss, how much is this worth?” He placed the three medals on the counter. The pawnshop owner, a scrawny middle-aged man in gold-rimmed glasses, picked them up. He glanced at Liam’s scarred hands and his bad leg, a faint glimmer of disdain in his eyes. “They’re real, alright. But these things… there’s no real market for them, buddy. It’s illegal to sell ’em.” “I just need cash. To save a life.” Liam’s voice was raspy. The owner pondered for a moment, then held up three fingers. “Three thousand.” “What?” Liam’s eyes instantly turned red. “This is a fucking Silver Star! Back then, I…” “I don’t care what you did back then,” the owner cut him off, sliding the medals back. “To me, this is just scrap metal. I’m offering three grand out of pity. If you take this anywhere else, they might not even dare to buy it. Take it or leave it.” Liam clenched his fists so hard his nails dug into his palms, and blood seeped out again. He thought of Marcus’s extortion. He thought of his sister’s pale face. He thought of the doctor saying “less than thirty percent.” Dignity, honor, the past… in the face of his sister’s life, they were worthless. “…Fine.” He gritted out. “Three thousand. I’ll sell.” Clutching the stack of bills that smelled of blood and desperation, Liam returned to the small courtyard below the hospital. The night wind was biting, making his injured leg ache in waves. Not long after, Marcus arrived arrogantly on a motorcycle. “Where’s the cash?” He took off his helmet, looking impatient. Liam didn’t speak. He just stared at him. It was the look you give a dead man. Marcus felt a chill crawl up his spine. “What are you looking at! Hand over the money! I got drinking to do after this!” “Marcus,” Liam finally spoke. “Back in Louisiana, during the hurricane op. Do you remember?” Marcus paused. “Why bring up that old crap?” “That day, torrential rain, a mudslide. A little girl was trapped in a house that was about to collapse. I told you to come with me to save her, but you were scared of dying and hid in the back. I went in alone and carried her out. The moment the house collapsed, a concrete slab fell and crushed my leg.” “What does that have to do with me?!” Marcus yelled, trying to mask his fear with bravado. “But when you filed the report, you claimed I disobeyed orders and acted on my own, and that your ‘big picture thinking’ was what prevented further casualties. Later, in the barracks, I confronted you, and you dared to throw the first punch. That’s how that video happened.” Liam walked toward him step by step. “Marcus, someone like you… do you even deserve to wear that uniform?” Marcus’s face went from green to white. He hadn’t expected Liam to dig up the past. “Cut the bullshit!” he yelled, humiliated and furious. “The past is in the past! You owe me now! Hand over the money!” He reached out to snatch the cloth bag from Liam’s hand. The moment he made contact, Liam moved. His injured leg acted as if it couldn’t feel pain, pivoting at a terrifying angle. His other hand shot out like lightning, clamping onto Marcus’s wrist and twisting it backward violently! SNAP! “AHHH—!” The sickening crunch of breaking bone and Marcus’s scream echoed simultaneously. Liam didn’t stop. A clean, brutal uppercut slammed directly into Marcus’s jaw. Marcus hit the ground hard, blood spraying from his nose and mouth. Liam stood over him like a god of vengeance. He searched Marcus’s jacket, finding his phone and wallet. He located the original video file Marcus had used to threaten Emma, and right in front of him, deleted it permanently. “This cash here, plus the thirty thousand you extorted from my sister—I’m handing every single cent of it to the police.” Liam placed his boot on Marcus’s broken hand, slowly applying pressure. “And you are going to sit in a prison cell and do some serious repenting.” He pulled out his phone and dialed 911. After doing all this, he took the three thousand dollars from his medals, combined it with the several thousand in illicit cash he recovered from Marcus’s wallet, clutched it in his hand, and sprinted back into the hospital. “Doctor! I got some of the money! Please, start the surgery! I’ll go find the rest right now! I’ll sign an IOU! I’ll sell my blood! I’ll sell a kidney if I have to!” He slammed the messy stack of bills onto the billing window, roaring at the nurses and doctors, completely ignoring the shocked stares of everyone around him. The head nurse sighed and handed him a clipboard. “Sir, please calm down. We will figure out the money situation. But I need you to sign this right now.” It was a “Critical Condition Notice” and a “Surgical Consent Form.” Liam’s hand was shaking so badly he couldn’t hold the pen. He tried several times before finally, crookedly, signing his name on the line. Every stroke felt like it was carving into his own heart. The light above the operating room flicked on again. This time, what awaited him was a torment longer than hell.

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I accompanied my brother to a business dinner. Never did I expect the person sitting across from us to be the Crown Prince of the business world himself. When I bit the bullet and went to offer a toast, he let out a cold scoff… three times. It wasn’t until halfway through the dinner, when someone asked about his poor, obedient, and completely mute fiancée who wasn’t in the industry… Liam Sterling lifted his eyelids, his gaze sweeping coolly over my custom, figure-hugging pencil skirt. He let out another cold scoff: “They’re asking you. Have you not played mute enough after pretending for two years?” 1 Attending a business dinner. Sitting across from me was our company’s most highly valued client. Dressed in a sharp suit. A cold, stern face. The very Crown Prince frequently featured in financial newspapers. Notorious in the industry for his eccentric temper and being difficult to deal with. Right now, he was sitting across from me, staring intently. The polite smile on his lips was icy, and his aura was overwhelmingly oppressive. My brother was still introducing me to the other side: “This is my little sister. Brought her out to meet some people so she can take over the family business later.” The man across from us raised an eyebrow. He repeated my name. “Chloe Hastings.” “The heiress of the Hastings family?” He paused, then sneered: “Interesting.” I silently pulled my hair down, hiding my face even more. After introducing me, my brother noticed I was still sitting and whispered urgently: “Don’t just sit there with your head down. What are you hiding from? It’s your turn to toast.” I remained silent for a moment. Then, bracing myself, I slowly stood up. As I raised my glass to toast the other side, my hand froze in mid-air. The atmosphere in the room had become uncomfortably quiet. My brother waited for ages, finally turning to ask: “Why are you just holding your glass? Are you mute? Say something.” It had been two years. Liam Sterling genuinely believed I was mute. Even during our most intense moments in bed. Liam would grip my hands, smiling wickedly: “Baby, just say a word if you can’t take it, and I’ll stop.” I lost myself several times, biting my lip until it bled, but I never made a sound to ask him to stop. Was it because I didn’t know how to speak? No, it was because I didn’t fucking dare. My lips moved for a long time before I managed to squeeze out a few words: “Um, Mr. Sterling—” As soon as I spoke. The man across from me immediately let out a cold scoff. I fell silent, feeling a piece of my soul die: “Mr. Sterling, a pleasure to meet you for the first time. I look forward to working with you.” “First time?” Liam’s lips curled into a chilling smile: “Right.” 2 After sitting back down. I silently pulled out my phone and started looking for flights out tonight. I needed to escape. Before I could even pick a time. I suddenly heard my brother, mid-conversation, casually ask: “Mr. Sterling, you’re getting married soon, right? When are you going to introduce your fiancée to us?” My eyelid twitched. My brother was really leading me to the slaughter. Liam didn’t answer immediately. He lightly swirled the wine in his glass. After a long moment, he lifted his eyelids, his gaze sweeping coolly over my custom, figure-hugging pencil skirt. He let out another cold scoff: “They’re asking you. Have you not played mute enough after pretending for two years?” The entire room instantly fell silent. My brother: ? My brother definitely hadn’t expected this. The rumored fiancée—the one with a tragic background, a gambling brother, an abusive father, and a sick mother, the mute girl who was exceptionally favored by the Crown Prince… Was actually his own sister. 3 Although I was spoiled and pampered by my family since childhood. Before I started dating, my brother explicitly warned me about a few people in our circle I should never touch. The first was the Crown Prince. Not only was his temper weird. He also had a “white moonlight”—a first love he couldn’t have. He was basically a walking red flag. But when I saw him at a party back then, I just couldn’t resist. I couldn’t resist him when a girl publicly threw a glass of red wine in his face. The wine dripped from the ends of his hair, sliding down his collarbone to the visible lines of his abs. Liam raised his eyes indifferently, his profile as handsome as if carved by a knife. He took a tissue to wipe the wine off his face while simultaneously shrugging off his incredibly expensive jacket and tossing it casually into the trash. His movements were unhurried, exuding the lazy contempt of someone used to being at the top. I was practically drooling. I couldn’t help but whisper to my best friend: “Say, what if I secretly took on a part-time job outside—” My best friend, an aloof “cool girl” type, rolled her eyes with immense elegance: “Don’t tell me you’re going to lower your status to play the substitute for the Crown Prince’s white moonlight. Did you see that girl who just threw the wine? She played the substitute until she actually caught feelings. Demanded commitment instead of money, and got dumped in two months. That’ll be your fate.” I nodded thoughtfully: “Oh, two months isn’t enough. Two months isn’t satisfying enough.” My best friend: ? Before deciding to get Liam. I did take my brother’s feelings into consideration. To avoid embarrassing him. I specifically used a fake name. And a fake identity. Because my voice is a bit unique, I was afraid I’d be recognized the moment I spoke. So I never even spoke. I got a VIP membership at the hotel Liam frequented. Played the drunk girl for two months. Finally, I timed it perfectly and “fainted” right into Liam’s arms as he walked in. His gaze paused on my face, which looked incredibly innocent and pure without makeup, and he very gentlemanly put an arm around me. He let out a low chuckle, seeing right through my intentions: “You look a bit like her. Want to be with me?” I lowered my head shyly. Took out my phone and typed a few words into the text box: [Sure. My name is Mia Flora.] It had been two years. Liam always thought I was mute. And I always thought we both silently agreed we were just playing around. Until last month, when Liam suddenly proposed marriage. I was stunned. 4 I suspected Liam might have amnesia. Forgotten about his white moonlight. When he proposed. Liam was originally drinking with friends. I was beside him, staring blankly at his devastatingly handsome profile. I don’t know who suddenly mentioned a name. The atmosphere went quiet for a few seconds. Someone said: “I heard she got engaged last month.” Liam’s hand paused, and he gave a faint “Hmm.” Then he suddenly turned to look at me. He amusingly pinched my spaced-out face. After I snapped back to reality, he asked me: “Want to get married?” In an instant, my heart stopped. Who? Marry who? Wait, wasn’t our agreed-upon dynamic that I was just a substitute for the white moonlight? I was genuinely terrified. That night in bed, I was trembling uncontrollably. Liam, hovering over me, clicked his tongue: “Baby, why are you so sensitive today? The sheets are soaked again.” After he finally finished tossing me around. My body was still shaking weakly as I silently picked up my shredded stockings from the floor, put them on, and prepared to leave without a moment’s delay. “Fuck.” Liam, who had been watching me, rarely swore. Then, a grip tightened around my waist. I was yanked back again. The stockings I had just put on were torn even more disastrously. Liam never let anyone spend the night at his villa. But he held me and slept through the whole night. I didn’t sleep a wink. Watching the sky gradually lighten. My heart also turned a bit cold. When he woke up, Liam even ruffled my hair. “Move your luggage over. You’ll live at my place from now on.” “Oh, and remember to bring your ID.” Liam rested his chin on his hand and looked at me, with a rare, gentle look in his eyes: “Mia, I had someone pick a good date. We’re getting married next month.” Hearing Liam call me by the fake name I had used for two years. My eyelid twitched. I finally realized. Liam was serious. 5 In our circle, gossip always travels fastest. My best friend immediately sent me a message when she found out: [?] [Don’t let a pretty face addle your brain. I heard his white moonlight got engaged last month. It’s obvious he’s just using you to spite her. If you dare marry him, be prepared to end up a clown.] I thought my best friend was overthinking it. Setting aside the issue of being used or not. The main issue was, I valued my life. Liam hated being lied to more than anything. The moment we went to register the marriage and he saw my ID, wouldn’t I be dead meat? Taking advantage of Liam sending me back to get my ID. I ran. Booked a flight first thing in the morning. Even while rushing to the airport, I was still shaking with residual fear. Good thing I ran. Otherwise, with Liam’s immense background, it was highly likely I would have been intercepted before even reaching the airport. But then again, maybe I was flattering myself. I was just one of the substitutes for his white moonlight. After two years together, he didn’t even bother to check my background once. If I wanted to leave, he probably wouldn’t care. He’d just find someone else pleasing to the eye to marry out of spite. Why would he waste effort stopping me? Liam’s family was in State A. My family was in State B. The name was fake. The identity was fabricated. Running away like this… Given my homebody nature. We’d probably never see each other again in this lifetime. Although I hadn’t quite had my fill of the Crown Prince. It was enough to satisfy the craving. I’d go back and obediently listen to my family’s arrangements for a business marriage and taking over the company. 6 I just didn’t expect to run into him in this kind of setting so soon. The Crown Prince’s family was in State A. My family was clearly in State B. Who knew business interactions could be so chummy? So chummy that he was our company’s biggest client. “They’re asking you. Have you not played mute enough after pretending for two years?” Memory returns. When Liam called out to me. I had already reached the door of the private room. Has it really come to this? I sighed inwardly. Opened the door. Turned around. Facing the shocked gazes of everyone, including my brother. I said calmly: “Excuse me, I need to use the restroom.” And tried to slip away. I didn’t succeed. Outside the door, Liam’s bodyguards were blocking the way. We stared at each other for a moment. One of them kindly reminded me: “Miss, there is a restroom inside the private room.” I silently sat back in my original seat. A moment later. My brother suddenly let out a cold scoff. Liam, sitting across from us, also let out a cold scoff. Me: “…” Are you two playing backup vocals? A while later. My brother couldn’t sit still: “I have some things to handle. I need to leave first.” Liam also stood up: “I have some things to handle. I need to leave first too.” I said: “Oh, I’m fine. I’ll sit a little longer.” My brother just grabbed me and hauled me up. Me: “…Ow, ow, ow, take it easy.” “Now you know what pain is? Isn’t your brother a gambler?” My brother scoffed coldly, throwing me in front of Liam, who was waiting outside. “My sister has been spoiled by the family since she was young and doesn’t know any better. For the sake of our families’ relationship, handle this gracefully. I’ll come back in an hour to take her home.” 7 The moment my brother left. Liam pinned me against the car door and kissed me. His kiss was passionate and urgent. He kissed me until I was almost suffocating. I really thought he was exaggerating. Although I admit I am indeed very beautiful. He didn’t have to react this strongly the moment he saw me, right? After a long while, he let me go. There was no angry interrogation about being deceived like I had imagined. He pressed his finger against my damp lips, his eyes dark: “You lied, fine. But why did you run away blindly?” I said: “Uh.” “I heard your family arranged a marriage for you last year. Don’t tell me you never intended to marry me.” I said: “Hiss.” “It was exhausting looking for you. Next time you want to run, at least don’t block my contact info, okay?” I said: “Ah.” He raised an eyebrow: “Brush me off again, and I don’t mind making you cry in this car.” Me: “…” Dude, can you have a little shame outdoors? But I had to admit. The moon tonight was really quite bright. What I mean is. Looking at the genuine deep affection in Liam’s eyes. I really was a little moved. He came here specifically to find me; that wasn’t fake. He hated being lied to the most, yet he easily forgave me; that wasn’t fake either. His extraordinary gentleness and favoritism towards me over the past two years were vivid in my memory. In those two years, it wasn’t that I hadn’t lost my head over him. When I was sick, he personally cooked porridge for me. Afterward, he held me in the shower and jokingly said when we get old, he might not be able to carry me. And when I said I didn’t like the smell of smoke, he quit smoking for me. But every time, I pinched myself hard to stay lucid. But now, facing this devastatingly handsome face. I couldn’t help but sink into it. Not the kind of infatuation where I just wanted to play around. But the kind where I really wanted to offer my heart and love him for a lifetime. 8 An hour later, my brother came to pick me up. I sat in the car, zoning out. Occasionally covering my mouth and suddenly letting out a goofy laugh. My brother finally couldn’t stand my idiotic behavior anymore. Unable to bear it any longer, he threw his phone onto my lap and said coldly: “See for yourself.” The video seemed to be casually recorded by someone else a few days ago. After showing dozens of seconds of a bright, splashing swimming pool. A lazy voice drifted into my ears. “Don’t invite me to this kind of party next time. The wife at home is strict.” A friend nearby teased: “Tsk, how beautiful is this girl at home? Other than Luna, I haven’t seen anyone hook Young Master Sterling like this.” Liam’s lips curved slightly, noncommittal: “I wouldn’t say she’s incredibly beautiful. She looks alright, I guess. But she’s very interesting.” The screen went black. I stared at the phone screen in silence for a while. After a long moment, I offered my critique of the video: “Hmm, finished watching. The video quality is pretty clear. Probably shot with the newest iPhone 17.” My brother sneered: “You don’t get it?” I really didn’t get it. Was it trying to say Liam was actually playing with my feelings? But in his three seconds of screen time, he didn’t seem to mention that at all. Was it trying to say he was completely hooked by me? Isn’t that a good thing? What was my brother sneering about? “Liam actually said you aren’t incredibly beautiful, just ‘alright’. What does ‘alright’ mean? Beauty is in the eye of the beholder. Saying something like that just proves his feelings for you aren’t genuine.” I suddenly understood. My brother continued to point things out: “Men understand men. A white moonlight is hard to forget. He said you look alright, which means you look average, which means you aren’t as pretty as his white moonlight, which means he’s just playing with you. And here you are smiling like an idiot for him. Is it worth it?” My pride was hurt by my brother’s words. During those few seconds of silence in the car. I silently wiped away the tears I couldn’t hold back. When I looked up again. I sniffled and said gratefully to my brother: “Bro, thankfully you reminded me. Otherwise, I really would have fallen for it this time.”

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BANG! A massive jolt rocked my car. A heavily modified truck had aggressively cut across my lane and smashed right into my front fender. Before I could even unbuckle my seatbelt, a burly, aggressive-looking man hopped out of the truck and stormed over, pointing a thick finger at my windshield. “You did that on purpose to pull an insurance scam, didn’t you?! You had a whole wide lane, but you just had to swerve into me!” He finished shouting, then looked me up and down with a sleazy, contemptuous smirk. “I’ve seen plenty of women like you. You see a guy driving an expensive rig, and you deliberately bump into it.” “But you know what? You’re pretty cute. Give me five hundred bucks and spend the night with me, and we’ll keep the insurance companies out of this.” I didn’t say a word. I simply reached into my backseat, grabbed my police uniform jacket, slipped it on, and clipped my body cam to the center of my chest. I stepped out of the car. “Repeat what you just said.” …… “I am a police officer assigned to the traffic division. This accident is entirely your fault. If you want to settle this privately, you’re paying for my repairs.” “If you have a problem with that, we can call 911 right now.” The big guy let out a loud, mocking snort. “You? A cop? Do I look like an idiot?” I didn’t argue. I just put on the jacket. The moment I walked closer, panic visibly flashed across his face. His rat-like eyes darted up and down my uniform, finally locking onto the empty velcro patch above my pocket where my badge should be. He let out a wide, ugly grin. “Well, look at that, sweetheart! That’s a mighty fresh-looking uniform. Must’ve cost you a pretty penny online. You don’t even have a badge on it, and you’re out here playing dress-up!” “I gotta hand it to you, going this far just to pull a fender-bender scam.” I looked down. Crap. I had just washed the uniform jacket yesterday and left my metal badge pinned to my other shirt at home. “You think Rick Benson was born yesterday? If you’re really a cop, I’ll get on my knees, bow three times, and call you my fairy godmother!” I actually laughed out loud. I tapped the blinking light on my body cam. “Why don’t you repeat that threat for the camera?” A few bystanders who had gathered around started whispering. “Hey man… that jacket looks legit.” “Yeah, the body cam looks real, too.” Rick tried to put on a brave face, but the panic in his eyes was impossible to hide now. He turned around and quickly made a phone call. A minute later, he marched back over to me. “You just wait. I’ve called the police. We’ll see if you’re a real cop when they get here.” I checked the time. I quickly texted a colleague who was patrolling a few blocks away, asking him to cover for me for a bit. With that done, I crossed my arms and waited calmly. Less than ten minutes later, a civilian sedan pulled up right in front of us. A man stepped out, wearing a police traffic uniform. I frowned. Officers responding to a 911 call don’t show up in personal vehicles. “Who called it in?” the man asked. “Luke! Perfect timing, man. My truck got hit by this crazy chick, and now she’s claiming to be a cop!” Rick puffed out his chest, looking incredibly smug. It was blatantly obvious he and “Luke” knew each other. The cop named Luke frowned and walked over to me. I didn’t recognize him at all. I thought he would at least recognize the authentic department jacket I was wearing. Instead, the first words out of his mouth were an accusation. “Are you aware that impersonating a police officer is a felony?” Hearing that, whatever fear Rick had vanished completely. He stuck his gut out, full of confidence. “I knew it! I’ve never seen a female cop looking like a model anyway.” The crowd of onlookers immediately perked up. “Whoa, impersonating a cop? This girl’s got some nerve.” “This isn’t just a traffic ticket anymore. She’s gonna be spending Christmas behind bars!” Seeing the situation escalating, I immediately reached into my pocket for my police ID wallet. “It’s normal that you don’t know me. There are over a hundred officers in the precinct. But you should recognize a valid ID.” Before Luke could even reach for it, Rick snatched the ID wallet right out of my hand and stuffed it into his pocket. His face twisted into an ugly snarl as he shouted to the crowd. “This is evidence! Having a fake ID makes your crime even worse!” I furrowed my brows. “What are you talking about? Give me my ID back right now!” I reached out to grab it, but I was no match for a large man’s brute strength. In the scuffle, my ID wallet slipped from his hands and fell over the railing into the storm drain gutter below. It was swept away by the running water. My mind went blank. Do you have any idea how much paperwork it takes to replace a lost police ID?! Instantly, my blood began to boil. Rick was still pointing his sausage-like fingers at me. “Everybody, you saw that! She just destroyed the evidence! I’m gonna need you all as witnesses!” A couple of middle-aged guys in the crowd, eager for drama, stepped up. “I saw it! She forged an ID and then destroyed the evidence.” “I’m a witness too! Don’t worry, buddy, I’ll say exactly that when we give our statements at the station.” Rick was beaming with triumph. “Well, this isn’t a five-hundred-dollar problem anymore. It’s gonna take at least this much to make me drop the charges.” He held up five fingers. Then he turned to the crowd. “Don’t worry folks, anyone who vouches for me gets a cut!” The fire in my chest flared into an inferno. I glared at Luke. “Are you really going to stand there in uniform and let him extort money from a civilian?” A brief flash of guilt crossed Luke’s face. He stammered slightly. “Mediation is a private civil matter. We try not to interfere.” Seeing them work together like a pack of wolves, I knew Luke had no intention of upholding the law. The sun was setting, and the crowd was only getting bigger. I was about to say something when my phone rang. Captain Miller’s booming voice came through the speaker. “Chloe! Main Street is a parking lot right now! Where are you? You have ten minutes to get to your post!” “Captain, I’m dealing with a situation here, give me another half—” “Hey, don’t merge there!—Beep. Beep.” He had hung up. I looked up to see Rick leaning against his truck, casually scrolling through TikTok on his phone. He clearly planned to drag this out all night to break me. I forced down my anger. When you run into a scammer like this, sometimes it’s best to cut your losses. “Look, no one wants to be in an accident. How about this: we’ll call it 50/50 liability, and I won’t ask you for repair money either.” “I have urgent business I need to attend to.” Rick rolled his eyes, his thick lips flapping as spit flew onto my face. “Are you kidding me? 50/50?” “Do you know how much I put into this truck? Sixty grand!” “How much could you even get for that beat-up piece-of-trash Volkswagen of yours?” He shot a look at Luke. Luke immediately pulled out an accident citation pad. “Ms. Davis, you are completely at fault for this collision. Sign the citation.” My eyes turned bloodshot. I slapped the citation pad right out of his hand. Luke frowned deeply. “Ms. Davis, are you resisting a lawful order?” I was shaking with anger. I pointed to the traffic camera mounted on the street light above us. “That camera clearly caught Rick aggressively cutting the lane line and ramming my car. On what planet am I entirely at fault?” Luke chuckled like I had just told a joke. He pointed to the “Student Driver” magnet on the back of my car. “You’re a rookie, and a female driver. Rick is a man with twenty years of driving experience. You really think he hit you?” “I process ten of these accidents a day. It’s always the female driver’s fault!” His words seemed to resonate with the crowd. The murmurs grew louder. “Yeah, I hate women drivers. They put on their right blinker and turn left.” “That guy looks like a solid driver. The girl was probably swerving. Definitely her fault.” “A girl side-swiped me yesterday. She apologized, so I just made her pay me a hundred bucks and let it go.” I smiled a bitter smile. So that was it. It had nothing to do with facts. My gender was my original sin. I didn’t argue. I just stared at the badge number on Luke’s chest. CSO-365898. “Community Service Officer. You’re unsworn, aren’t you? Do you know that an unsworn officer cannot issue citations or assign liability without a sworn field training officer present?” “Do you even know basic protocol?” My voice wasn’t loud, but it was firm and carried clearly to everyone in the crowd. “Also, that phone call Rick made earlier? He called your personal cell phone, didn’t he?” I checked my watch. 5:30 PM. “It’s rush hour. Every officer in the city is at their assigned post. Do you know the penalty for abandoning your post without dispatch authorization?” I pointed to the blinking red light on my body cam. “Everything you’ve done here is recorded in crystal clear HD. You might want to think very carefully about the consequences of covering for him!” With every word I spoke, the color drained from Luke’s face. He looked at me, then at Rick, clearly calculating who he had messed with. Seeing the situation turning south, Rick lunged forward, grabbed my body cam, and hurled it onto the pavement. CRACK! The camera shattered into pieces. Rick was panting heavily, the fat on his face trembling. “You fake cop! You dare threaten a real officer?! Recording us without permission is illegal!” Before I could react, he grabbed my wrist, trying to force a pen into my hand to sign the citation. Caught off guard, I was thrown off balance and fell hard onto the asphalt. A sharp, stinging pain shot through my knee. I gasped for air. A few men in the crowd actually cheered, which only fueled Rick’s arrogance. Seeing things spiraling out of control, I pulled out my phone to dial 911. But the moment it was out of my pocket, Rick shoved me again. My phone hit the ground and was immediately kicked away by the chaotic crowd. By the time I found it, the screen was a shattered spiderweb, completely dead. A kindly older woman couldn’t watch anymore. “Honey, why are you fighting them? Just pay the man and settle it later. Don’t get yourself hurt.” I looked at the chaos around me, feeling like I was living in the twilight zone. It’s 2026. Everyone has a smartphone. How is a police officer getting mobbed like this on a public street? The intersection was completely gridlocked because of this minor fender-bender. Car horns blared endlessly, mixing with the curses of angry commuters. The situation had gone way beyond my control. In a flash of realization, I remembered the police radio in my car. I scrambled back into the driver’s seat. The radio was sitting there, the green signal light blinking. That small radio suddenly felt like a lifeline. After contacting dispatch, I rolled up the windows and locked the doors. But Rick wasn’t going to let me sit in peace. He pounded on my window. He gestured for me to get out. I rolled the window down an inch. “Since we can’t agree, we’ll wait. I’ve already called for backup.” Then I rolled it up and locked the car again.

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Someone on the street was begging for a dollar to buy food. I told my mom it was a scam. But she said, “Who would sell their dignity for a single dollar?” Frustration flared inside me. “But years ago, for just a dollar, you made me kneel for a whole day and night!” “Was my dignity not dignity?!” She snapped her head up to glare at me. “You? You think you even deserve to talk about dignity?!” 1 “Besides, you deserved every bit of it!” “You scored a 95 on a math test instead of a 100, and you actually had the nerve to ask me for a dollar?!” “You? You think you even deserve to talk about dignity?!” Even though it had been over a decade. Even though she had played the role of a loving mother in front of me for years. The moment it was brought up, her teeth ground with pure hatred. That bitter, mean face she had hidden for so long was instantly exposed. She said, “You’re lucky I didn’t strip you naked and make you kneel outside the front door! What right do you have to talk to me about dignity?!” “If you truly understood dignity, you wouldn’t have just gone to some mediocre college, found such a trash job, and brought home such a pathetic excuse for a salary every month! You’ve made it so I can’t even hold my head up in front of our relatives!” Her voice grew louder and louder, as if she wished everyone on the street would stop and watch me be humiliated. Yet, just moments before this, we had looked like the perfect picture of a loving mother and a filial daughter, holding hands and chatting happily while shopping. I had even secretly bought the gold bracelet she had been talking about for ages. I planned to surprise her with it on her birthday in a few days, to make her happy. The sudden shift happened simply because— She saw someone on the street begging on their knees for a dollar to buy food, and eagerly rushed over to give them money. And all I did was quietly whisper to her that it was a scam, telling her not to fall for it. She instantly swatted my hand away, frowned, and asked me, “Do you think I’m an idiot?” “They’re dressed cleanly! Who would sell their dignity for just a dollar?!” Hearing that, I don’t know what came over me. It just reminded me of the time, years ago, when she made me kneel for a day and a night over a single dollar! I can’t even remember why I needed that dollar, but I will never forget the humiliation for the rest of my life! She just sat on the sofa, humming a tune and holding a stick, staring at me. If I so much as moved a muscle, she would swing the stick at me. She made me kneel for a full 24 hours. No food, no water, and no bathroom breaks. And because I couldn’t hold it, I peed all over the floor… She then ordered me to take off my clothes and use them to wipe the floor clean. Even now, over a decade later, thinking about it still fills me with sorrow and burning shame. But she just had to add one more sentence. “You think everyone is like you? Willing to throw away all their shame for a few bucks?” Hearing that, I froze, my face burning as if slapped. I instinctively fired back: “So you do remember making me kneel for a day and a night over a dollar, and even beating me again after I couldn’t hold it and peed the floor.” “Did you think my dignity wasn’t dignity back then?” But who could have predicted that this one sentence would instantly enrage her. She blurted out, “You don’t have any damn dignity!” 2 That single sentence snapped me right back to my childhood. Even the hairs on my arms stood up. Yet, while she was cursing me, she pulled out a ten-dollar bill. In an instant, she switched back to the persona of a compassionate, loving mother. She crouched down and pressed it into the person’s hand. She said to that stranger the exact words I had desperately hoped to hear her say to me countless times when I was little. She said, “Here, child, take this! Go get yourself a good meal! I believe you’re not a scammer!” But when she looked back up at me, her eyes were bloodshot with rage. I was supposedly her closest family, yet her malice toward me was greater than toward anyone else. She knew exactly what words would cut me the deepest. She stared at me, enunciating every word: “Unlike you, you ungrateful wretch! If I had known, I would have listened to your grandmother and drowned you in the toilet the day you were born!” “What use is there in raising you? You selfish brat! You never think of me when you get anything good! I wish I could travel back in time and strangle you!” I trembled, my eyes suddenly stinging, feeling an overwhelming sense of injustice. How do I never think of her? I worked so hard to save up a few thousand dollars, and just because she kept complaining about how other people had gold bracelets and she didn’t, I bit the bullet and bought one for her! Even though I hadn’t given it to her yet, she was in my heart. I had just prepared a surprise for her, and she says she wishes she had strangled me! When I grew up, I did think about escaping my toxic family. But ever since I graduated and started working, it was like she suddenly became a different person. She put away that aggressive, demeaning demeanor that had to criticize and humiliate me at every turn. She started showing concern for me, started remembering what kinds of food I liked. In the past, she never gave me red envelopes for the Lunar New Year. Now, she would send me red envelopes for the New Year and my birthday. She would even buy me some of the things I desperately wanted when I was little. Even though I didn’t want those things anymore, she kept buying them and putting them in my room, one after another. Occasionally, when we talked about the past, she would cry bitterly, saying it was her first time being a mother, that she didn’t do a good job, and asking me to be understanding and forgiving. She would also talk about how my dad just walked out, leaving her alone to raise me, facing so many hardships and so many judging eyes. After slapping me countless times, she finally gave me a piece of candy once I started working. And unconsciously, swayed by her fake repentance and tears, I found myself forced into playing the role of the loving mother and dutiful daughter. Simply because I had never experienced these things before. So much so that when she gave me just a tiny taste of sweetness, I thought she was giving me all her love. Until today, when she humiliated me over a single dollar once again. I suddenly snapped out of this self-deceiving lie— She hadn’t changed at all. No matter how well she disguised it, she was still the person who didn’t respect me, who didn’t love me. No matter how sweet that candy was, it was laced with poison. The facade of a loving mother and filial daughter we had maintained for years felt like a complete joke in this moment. Seeing the crowd of onlookers growing larger, my first instinct was to leave. “I don’t want to fight with you here. Let’s talk about this when we get home!” Seeing me turn to leave, she grabbed me tight. “You’ve always been like this! Always trying to run away when things happen! Don’t even think about leaving today until you make this clear!” “Tell me! What does it matter to you if I give someone a dollar out of kindness?” “Don’t think I don’t know! While I was in the bathroom earlier, you spent thousands buying yourself a gold bracelet!” “I’ve lived for decades and still haven’t worn a gold bracelet. You’re so young, what right do you have to secretly buy one for yourself?!” “Besides, did I say anything about you spending thousands? I spend a single dollar, and you give me this kind of attitude?!” In a flash, it all made sense! I finally understood. So this was the root of it all! 3 It turned out she didn’t explode in anger because I warned her about a scam. It was because she saw me buy that gold bracelet. She saw me sneakily tuck it into my pocket and mistakenly assumed I was secretly buying it for myself. Suddenly, my desire to give her a birthday surprise felt utterly laughable. Because she was selfish, she naturally assumed I was just as selfish. Things she had never possessed, she would absolutely forbid me from possessing first. Even if I earned the money myself and bought it myself, she still felt I didn’t deserve it. Because she saw me hide it, she deliberately started picking a fight. Deliberately bringing up the humiliation that dollar caused me years ago. Deliberately baiting me into bringing up the past, only to pin all the blame on me. To force me to lower my head, offer up the gold bracelet with both hands, and apologize to her. The realization sent a chill down my spine. I had to admit the truth— My mother didn’t love me at all. In fact, she was full of jealousy and calculation toward me. But the more she wanted it, the more determined I was not to give it to her! I tugged at the corner of my mouth, done indulging her. “Who exactly is giving who attitude?” I said. “Haven’t you always been the one throwing attitude for no reason?” “If you want…” Before I could finish, she suddenly raised her hand. The sound of a slap made me instinctively turn my head. But the slap didn’t land on my face. Like a madwoman, she slapped herself twice, screaming with a tearful voice. “It’s me! It’s me, your old mother, giving you attitude, okay?!” “It’s my fault! I was wrong! I shouldn’t have spent a dollar to show some kindness, okay?!” “Chloe! I am your mother, and I’m apologizing to you, is that enough?!” Me: “…” I never in a million years expected her to pull this stunt. I stood there frozen, at a loss for what to do. Someone from the crowd stepped forward to persuade me: “Let it go, let it go. It’s just a dollar. Why force your mother into this state?” “Besides, you shouldn’t be so absolute. It’s just a few bucks. What if the person isn’t a scammer?” “Your mother is so kind-hearted. Aren’t you afraid of being struck by lightning for forcing her to slap herself?” “And another thing, do you know how hard it was for your mother to raise you? Forget the dollar, I think you should give that gold bracelet you bought to your mother!” Listening to these moral kidnappings, a hint of smugness flashed across my mother’s face. Everyone thought this was about a single dollar. Only I knew it wasn’t about the dollar at all. But I couldn’t defend myself. For the first time, I deeply understood the weight of the saying: “Don’t urge others to be forgiving when you haven’t suffered their pain.” I felt humiliated and furious. But my mother gripped me tightly. Those narrow eyes were filled with calculation. She raised an eyebrow and glared at me. “Chloe, don’t you think you’re being selfish?” “I raised you, and you treat me like a fool, right? You buy a bracelet behind my back, yet I have to endure your attitude over spending a single dollar! By what right?” “If you don’t give me an explanation today, I will spill all your dirty secrets right in front of all these people!” Hearing that threat, a cold shiver ran through my body. 4 I quickly ran through all my “so-called” dirty secrets in my mind. When I got my period for the first time and stained my pants, she made me stand downstairs with bare legs, shivering in the cold, drawing points and stares from a crowd. When I first started developing, because my chest was slightly noticeable, people at school called me a slut and a tramp. When she found out, not only did she refuse to buy me a training bra, she called me a troublemaker. I secretly cut up old clothes to make two small tank tops to wear. When she found out, she cursed me out, saying I was trying every trick in the book to seduce men at such a young age. … Things like this were too numerous to count. Even worse, at every family gathering, she would tell these “dirty secrets” as jokes to others. The more embarrassed and humiliated I felt, the more excited she became. When I hid away to cry, she would stand nearby, unconsciously humming a tune and laughing. After laughing, she would say, “Heh, you’re the one acting cheap, but you won’t let people talk about it?” She was bringing up the past today. When it came down to it, she just wanted the bracelet in my hand! And not only that, she wanted me to put it on her with immense gratitude, making a huge spectacle of thanking her for raising me. Otherwise, this wasn’t going to blow over! As my thoughts returned to the present, the crowd of onlookers had grown even larger. Only the scammer who had begged for a dollar quietly folded up his cardboard sign and slipped away. But no one cared if he was a scammer anymore. The onlookers didn’t care who was right or wrong. They just wanted a show, or to record a video and post it online, hoping it would go viral. And my mother only wanted the bracelet in my hand. She wanted it, but refused to just ask for it directly. She had to orchestrate this entire scene to force me to offer it up willingly. Seeing my long silence, a hint of threat and smugness touched the corners of her eyes. “Chloe, I am your mother! Do you think I can’t handle you?” “If you don’t show some proper attitude and apologize to me today, this isn’t over!” Right. In her eyes, I was just a marionette she could mold and manipulate however she pleased. She counted on my soft personality and fear of losing face. She was also certain I wouldn’t dare make a scene with her in front of so many people. Indeed, based on my past behavior. I would compromise. I would go along with her wishes to make the situation pass quickly. I would continue to maintain the illusion of a loving mother-daughter relationship in the eyes of others. But she overlooked something. I don’t know exactly when, but her back had slowly begun to stoop. While my spine grew straighter and straighter. All that “face” I used to care about was only because I still considered her my mother. Once I stopped caring… If you can give someone a dollar to show your kindness. I can give someone a gold bracelet to show my kindness. Who isn’t a good Samaritan?

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My department director, Linda, always said I was her favorite in the whole company. She praised my sharp mind and hard work, constantly boasting that I was her star pupil, hand-picked and trained by her. The other colleagues envied me, saying Linda favored me and that sticking with her guaranteed a bright future. Just because I casually mentioned having a sensitive stomach once, Linda started bringing me a stomach-soothing breakfast every single morning. She even spent her free time in the office researching and making different kinds of stomach-nourishing porridges and cakes, bringing me a new variety every day. She constantly reminded me not to skip breakfast and to take care of my health. However, her cooking skills were terrible. Either the multigrain porridge wasn’t cooked through and nearly chipped my teeth, or the cakes had too much baking soda. Our department manager held a concurrent position at the head office and was away year-round, leaving Linda practically in charge of everything in the team. Occasionally, I would vent to my colleagues about the breakfasts, but they would just tease me. “You’re complaining about a good thing! Linda manages the whole team yet still keeps your stomach in mind. Be grateful.” I could only swallow my grievances and keep my mouth shut. That is, until my third year at the company, when I landed a massive 150-million-dollar contract. The company specifically threw a victory banquet for me at a five-star hotel. The big boss even announced he would give me a special individual bonus to recognize my achievement. At the banquet, Linda personally brought over a thermos container, smiling as she said, “Chloe, your stomach is sensitive. You shouldn’t eat the heavy, spicy food from outside. I specially made you some clear noodle soup. Eat up.” Then, still smiling, she handed me a thick red envelope. I opened it to find a single coin. A shiny, one-dollar coin. Looking at the soggy, clumped-up noodles, I slammed the thermos right in front of her. “Keep your fake concern. I want my rightful bonus, every single cent of it, right now!” 1 Broth splashed everywhere. Yellowed vegetable leaves lay limply on top of the clumped, sticky noodles. It looked sloppy and half-hearted. All my colleagues froze, then someone whispered, “So ungrateful. Linda treats her so well, and she embarrasses her like this over a little bonus.” Manager Davis also looked angry, his face darkening: “Chloe, what kind of scene are you making? Director Linda made that stomach-soothing soup specifically for you, keeping your health in mind. The bonus is a gesture from the company. Is this any way to act?” Linda’s eyes instantly reddened. She pulled out a tissue and dabbed delicately at her eyes, her voice soft and fragile: “It’s all my fault. I didn’t plan it well. The noodles got soggy and made Chloe feel wronged.” “As for the bonus, it was decided by the top management. One dollar symbolizes a smooth and prosperous journey ahead. It represents the company’s high hopes for you.” “Chloe, I truly value talent. Salespeople easily ruin their stomachs. If the bonus is too large, I was afraid it would go to your head and you’d lose focus…” A wave of condemnation instantly washed over me. Some said I was spoiled and ungrateful, that I had forgotten Linda’s mentorship all for the sake of money. Looking at Linda’s aggrieved and “considerate” act, I let out a cold snort. I pulled a stack of documents from my bag, placed the one-dollar coin on top, and waved them at everyone. “Spoiled and ungrateful? Forgot my mentorship?” “In my first year, here are the files for twenty-eight contracts. The total bonuses amounted to 360,000 dollars, but every single time, they were credited to Linda, because she claimed the clients were ‘company resources.’” “Every time, she used the excuse that the sales department had high expenses, that we needed to buy gifts and give kickbacks to clients, and directly pocketed the money.” “For this 150-million-dollar mega-contract, I ground it out for four months, traveling to ten different cities to negotiate. You give me a one-dollar bonus and claim it’s for my own good? I want to know, whose pocket did the 150,000-dollar bonus from head office actually end up in?” Everyone was stunned. The color instantly drained from Linda’s face. Exposed, she still tried to maintain her composure, bending down to pick up the thermos, her voice choked with emotion. “Chloe, I’m truly doing this for your own good. Why can’t you understand?” “To be in sales, you need a healthy body. You’re young and like junk food. I’ve brought you breakfast for a whole year to protect your stomach. How many clean, healthy meals have I made for you?” “As for the bonus, you’re still young. You should look at the big picture, prioritize the company’s interests, and be humble. That’s how the bosses will value you, and you’ll get promoted faster.” A senior colleague, Sarah, quickly tried to smooth things over, pulling my arm. “Chloe, don’t be so stubborn. Linda is doing this for your future. At every sales meeting, she specifically mentions your name and praises you. We’ve all seen how she takes care of you.” Other colleagues chimed in. “Chloe, apologize to Linda quickly. She’s giving you major responsibilities and trying to groom you. How can you be so short-sighted and only care about immediate, petty profits?” Linda immediately played along, looking at me with a face full of “heartache.” “No need for an apology. We’re mentor and mentee, it’s what I should do.” “I just value talent and want to cultivate more capable and visionary elites for the company.” “Chloe, if the food isn’t good, you can tell me, and I’ll remake it. As for the bonus, if it really comes down to it, I can give you my share. Just don’t be angry.” She reached out to affectionately grab my hand. The smell of that bland noodle soup clinging to her, combined with her hypocritical posturing, made my stomach churn. I shook off her hand, my voice cold as ice. “Linda, I can take care of my own health. I don’t need you to go out of your way for me.” “As for the bonus, I earned it with my own ability. Why would I want your share? If head office wants to groom someone, they look at their capability, not someone who violates company policy, arbitrarily alters the bonus structure, and causes internal friction and drain among the staff.” Hearing this, my colleagues gossiped even louder, rolling their eyes and accusing me. “It’s just a bowl of noodles and a bonus. Is it worth throwing such a huge tantrum?” “Exactly. Linda remembered her sensitive stomach every single day for a year. Anyone else would be overflowing with gratitude. Instead, she publicly turns on her for a little money.” “Young people nowadays only care about profit. They’re so restless and materialistic, no sense of loyalty at all. Linda really nurtured an ungrateful snake.” 2 Manager Davis’s face was livid. He slammed his hand heavily on the table. “Chloe, shut your mouth! Director Linda ran herself ragged organizing this victory banquet and even prepared a gift specifically for you. What right do you have to slander her like this? You must apologize to Director Linda.” As soon as he finished speaking, Linda promptly had her assistant bring over a gift box and placed it in front of me, smiling. “Chloe, I know you work hard, constantly staying up late to finish proposals. This is a special gift for you: the newest lumbar support cushion. You sit for long periods, and your back suffers. This will make it more comfortable.” I opened the box to find a flimsy cloth cushion clearly bought from a cheap dollar store. The foam was completely flat, the edges were fraying, and the printed pattern was blurry. My accumulated anger finally exploded. I threw the cushion on the floor and stomped on it hard. “Who wants this garbage?! I brought in 150 million in sales, and the company can’t even give me a proper reward. You try to fool me with this? You dismiss me with one dollar? Do you think I’m a beggar?” The crowd looked at the cushion, then at the single coin in my hand. Their expressions grew complex, but some still sided with Linda. Sarah glared at me. “What’s wrong with the cushion? As long as it’s practical, that’s what matters. Linda remembered you have back problems from sitting too long. That kind of thoughtfulness is rare.” “Exactly. Back when we made sales, we didn’t even get a word of praise. The fact that Linda even thinks of you is good enough, yet you’re being so picky.” Linda quickly picked up the cushion from the floor, lovingly dusting it off. She grabbed Sarah’s arm, then looked at me helplessly, her eyes red. “Chloe, it’s all my fault. The company’s budget is tight lately, and the commission for the 150 million hasn’t come through yet. I don’t have much money on hand either. I went to several stores to buy this cushion. It’s my incompetence that made you feel wronged. Next time, when the commission comes in, I’ll definitely get you a better one, okay?” Watching her theatrical performance, I couldn’t help but sneer. The last time I secured a ten-million-dollar contract, the bonus was ten thousand dollars. She told me the exact same thing. I didn’t want to fight with her then, thinking it would be fine if it was distributed among the whole sales department. After all, I didn’t secure the contract entirely on my own. Jessica accompanied me to meet the client, and Michael ran around organizing the materials for me. But I later found out that the ten thousand dollars was never distributed to the sales department. She kept it, claiming it was used for the department’s “public relations expenses.” I didn’t expect her to become even more brazen, trying to pocket a bonus of over a hundred thousand dollars. I scoffed, my gaze piercing her. “Director Linda, you say the sales commission hasn’t come through. But what about the special individual bonus the company awarded? The boss personally promised it. How did it turn into one dollar when it reached you?” Linda’s eyes darted away, her face flushing red as she stammered, “The company has a lot of expenses. You don’t know the cost of running things until you’re the one in charge. As a director, I have to consider everything.” “As for the special bonus you mentioned, it’s still going through the approval process. Chloe, don’t be so impatient. Once it’s approved, I’ll give it to you immediately, okay?” Sarah immediately chimed in, “It’s just a bonus. What’s the big deal if it’s a few days late? Why have you become so mercenary, with only money in your eyes?” Other colleagues echoed her, accusing me of being too profit-driven and ungrateful. Linda wiped a tear and stopped the crowd. “Alright, everyone, stop talking. Chloe is still young. Maybe it’s just because the holidays are approaching, and she needs money. Don’t blame her. It’s all my fault for being an incompetent director. I always want everyone to share the benefits and bring more profit to the sales department. It’s all my fault.” Saying this, she pulled something out of her bag and shoved it at me, smiling. “I apologize, don’t be mad.” “You haven’t eaten anything yet, you must be hungry. I specially bought you these stomach-soothing soda crackers. Eat some to line your stomach, don’t let yourself starve. Whenever your stomach bothers you, don’t I always buy these for you?” Manager Davis and Sarah, hearing this, glared at me indignantly. “Look how good Linda is to you. Even after all this, she’s still thinking about your stomach.” I pinched the box of soda crackers. The box was crushed. I opened it to find the crackers were stale. I took a bite, and it crumbled into dry dust. The production date was from three months ago. I was so angry I laughed. I smashed the crackers hard onto the floor. “Who wants your cheap, fake kindness?! If you truly thought I worked hard, if you truly cared about my health, you would give me the bonus I earned! Stop trying to fool me with this garbage, and stop using your fake favoritism to play the good guy!” Manager Davis immediately lunged forward and slapped me hard across the face. “You little brat, you have no manners whatsoever! I’ll teach you a lesson on behalf of your elders.” “A teacher for a day is a parent for a lifetime. Director Linda cares so much about you. How can you be so ungrateful? How can you break her heart like this?” “Maybe I don’t have good manners, but at least I don’t steal other people’s bonuses! I worked my tail off for three months, and she tries to dismiss me with a bowl of soggy noodles and a single dollar?! Is this the benevolence and loyalty you all talk about?!” Linda cried even harder, leaning into Sarah’s embrace, looking like the victim of a massive injustice. Sarah comforted her while looking at me with deep disappointment. “Chloe, you’re becoming more and more out of line. Linda trained you from scratch. She’s taken care of you in every way for a year. If it weren’t for Linda, could you have signed so many big contracts?” “The resources are Linda’s. The clients sign because they trust the company’s strength. You just ran a few errands, and now you’re making a scene trying to monopolize the bonus.” 3 Manager Davis stood up, his face dark. “There’s no reasoning with her. I think she’s just been spoiled. Today I have to teach her a lesson, show her what it means to respect her mentors and be grateful.” With that, he raised his hand, ready to slap me again. Linda immediately threw herself forward to stop him, crying, “No, no, no, Manager! Chloe made a huge contribution today. Even if she made a mistake, you can’t blame her. It’s all my fault. I didn’t coordinate the department’s relationships well. It has nothing to do with Chloe.” Davis’s hand was held tightly by Linda. He was both angry and exasperated. “Look at the situation, and you’re still protecting her! This ungrateful snake, does she appreciate anything you’ve done?” The colleagues all shook their heads and sighed, murmuring about how I didn’t know how good I had it and was totally ungrateful. “Look how good Linda is to you. If it were anyone else, the manager would have chewed them out and probably kicked them out the door. Would they still protect you?” Linda wiped her tears, smiled with feigned magnanimity, and bent down to pick up the thermos and the soda crackers. “Alright, alright, everyone, let’s stop criticizing Chloe.” “I’ll go make Chloe another bowl of noodles, and buy a nicer gift. Today is Chloe’s victory banquet, we can’t ruin everyone’s mood.” Watching her take the act all the way to the end, I couldn’t bear it anymore. I rushed forward and shoved her hard in the chest, screaming, “Who wants your fake kindness?!” The room fell dead silent. No one expected me to actually lay a hand on Linda. Manager Davis was stunned for three seconds. When he recovered, he grabbed a set of tableware and hurled it at my head. “You ungrateful wretch! I have to cure you of this today. I’m telling you right now, get out of this company immediately. You’re fired.” A sharp pain shot through my forehead, and warm liquid slowly trickled down my cheek. Everyone looked at me in shock, and then the accusations started pouring in again. “Serves her right. So unappreciative.” Linda immediately threw herself at Manager Davis, hugging him and crying, “Manager, let’s talk this out, don’t hit her, don’t hit her, it’s all my fault.” As she looked up, I caught a fleeting glimpse of smugness hidden in her eyes. Seeing that smug expression, I finally laughed. I pulled out my phone, opened a voice recording, and played it. The clear conversation between Linda and Manager Davis filled the room. “I kept Chloe’s 150,000-dollar commission and transferred it to my card. I’ll just give her a dollar and say the company budget is tight. She’s just a greenhorn, she can’t do anything about it.” “Baby, you’re so smart. Doting on her every day, cooking for her, acting so concerned about her bad stomach—making it look like you treat her so well. How could she possibly have the face to demand money from you?” “They’re just new employees. If they dare disobey, I have you, right? We’ll just fire them and tell them to get lost.” … The moment the recording played, the room plunged into a deathly silence. Linda’s face turned pale as paper. Her lips trembled, unable to maintain her aggrieved act any longer. Gripping my phone, I walked toward her step by step. “Linda, your fake favoritism and your scheming end today.” Everyone stared dumbfounded at Linda and Manager Davis. Sarah was frozen in place, her hand, halfway extended to help Linda, suspended in mid-air. Her face was full of disbelief. “Director Linda, did… did you really embezzle our bonuses and commissions?” The other colleagues erupted, the whispers impossible to suppress. The accusations previously aimed at me instantly turned into suspicion toward Linda. “No wonder! When I first arrived, Linda doted on me too, bought me coffee every day, told me to drink green tea. But my bonuses were always inexplicably cut in half.” “Damn it, this is textbook exploitation of newbies! The new hires work themselves to the bone getting orders, she takes all the benefits, and plays the saint so we can’t complain.” “We should suggest the company legal department investigate and see exactly how much of our commission she’s embezzled.”

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When the housekeeper’s daughter was suddenly attacked by a deranged man waving a machete on the street, my brother rushed forward without a second thought to save her. I, on the other hand, suggested we hide in a safe place and call 911 immediately. The police arrived in time, but the housekeeper’s daughter, Chloe, had her face slashed and ruined, eventually falling into severe depression. Chloe blamed me for her disfigurement and set a fire trying to burn me alive. I discovered it in time and escaped, but Chloe died in the blaze. My parents kicked me out of the house. They looked at me with cold, disgusted eyes: “You selfish sociopath. You should have paid for Chloe’s life with your own.” My brother threw me out onto the street: “You already deserved to die for letting Chloe get disfigured, and now you’ve taken her life. You deserve to rot.” The housekeeper then posted a heavily exaggerated version of events online, and I was cyberbullied to death by the entire internet. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day Chloe was attacked. I sneered and nudged my brother beside me: “Liam, what are you waiting for? Hurry up and save Chloe!” 1. The deranged man swung the massive machete right at my brother. Liam instinctively raised his arms to block it. Then came a bloodcurdling scream. I watched helplessly as my brother’s hands were hacked at, slash after slash, fingers flying into the air. And I just stood on the sidelines, watching it all coldly. I looked completely unbothered, as if that man wasn’t my brother, but someone less than a stranger. No one knew that at this very moment, I truly wished my brother would just be hacked to death by this maniac. It would be a release for me. Unfortunately, his life was cheap, and the Grim Reaper didn’t want to take him that early. When the police finally arrived, Liam only had one breath left. His white button-down shirt was dyed completely crimson. There were also several deep machete gashes on his thighs. I threw myself down next to my brother, my voice trembling. “Liam, you have to hold on! You can’t fall asleep, or what will Mom and Dad do?!” No one knew that I was viciously pinching the open wounds on my brother’s body. When no one was looking, I even rubbed handfuls of dirt deep into his gashes. He was already so weak he couldn’t even tell where the pain was coming from, so naturally, he didn’t notice what I was doing. “Where’s Chloe? Is she okay?” Liam’s voice was barely a whisper. To still be thinking of the housekeeper’s daughter at a time like this… it must be true love. It’s a pity he had no idea that the person he protected with his life had long since bolted. She had run all the way home, not caring whether he lived or died. This was the person he had always loved. Just like my brother—an ungrateful, selfish backstabber! “Don’t worry, she’s perfectly fine. The housekeeper said she’s already safely at home. You don’t need to worry about her.” The moment I finished speaking, my brother let out a sigh of relief and then passed out cold. When Mom and Dad rushed to the hospital, they only saw me sitting outside the operating room. “What exactly happened?! How could something like this happen?!” My parents were panting heavily, their eyes red with tears. I told them the story, adding plenty of fuel to the fire, and heavily exaggerated my own actions. I told them how I tried so hard to hold him back, but just couldn’t stop him. “I thought Chloe would at least yell for help, or at the very least call 911. I never imagined she’d just abandon my brother and run away.” The sound of my sobbing filled the hallway. But it was just sound—there were no tears. Hearing me say this, my parents’ impression of Chloe instantly plummeted. “Where is Chloe now?!” When my mom heard that my brother had thrown himself into danger entirely for Chloe, her tone turned venomous. You have to understand, she usually treated Chloe better than she treated me, her own biological daughter. Now, hearing that Chloe had indirectly caused her son’s severe injuries, where was all that previous affection? I, of course, told the absolute truth. When my mom learned that Chloe had actually just gone home, she was furious beyond words. “What a lack of upbringing! Truly fitting for a housekeeper’s daughter.” “My Liam, if it weren’t for her, wouldn’t be in emergency surgery right now. If anything happens to my son, I will never let her off the hook!” I lowered my eyes and said softly. “Liam is blessed; he will definitely pull through.” “What Chloe did was indeed too much, but if we go confront her now, Liam will definitely blame us when he wakes up.” “For his mental and physical recovery, let’s not bring this up for now.” Only then did my mom notice me. Perhaps because she was too fragile right now, she pulled me into a tight hug and burst into tears. “Emma, thank God I still have you.” “You’re right. Bringing up that little bitch right now won’t do any good. The most important thing is for your brother to wake up soon.” This long-absent maternal love didn’t cause a single ripple in my heart. I could never forget the look of disgust in my parents’ eyes when they looked at me in my past life. I remembered how they personally said they regretted ever giving birth to me. Only then did I learn that I wasn’t even supposed to be born. It was my dad who said they should keep me so they could marry me off for a hefty dowry later. No wonder when I was driven into a corner, my parents didn’t care at all. They even told me to go die, to die far away, so I wouldn’t drag them down. Just then, the operating room doors swung open. The doctor sighed. “The patient sustained multiple deep lacerations. He is currently out of the woods regarding imminent death, but as for the rest… we’ve done everything we could.” Liam was wheeled out. Looking at him wrapped up like a mummy, I found out that his right hand had been amputated. His left hand was still there, but only two fingers remained. He looked absolutely horrifying. Not to mention the machete gashes all over his body. After my dad went to speak with the doctor, I overheard the rest of the grim news. There were several deep cuts near his upper thighs, which had severely impacted his reproductive capabilities. Hearing this, my mom’s world collapsed. Unable to bear the shock, she fainted dead away. 2. A few days passed, and Liam’s condition began to stabilize. He finally woke from his coma. But he found it incredibly difficult to accept his physical mutilation, constantly throwing massive tantrums. “My hand! Where is my hand?! Why didn’t you save my hand?!” “I was just starting my career! How am I supposed to be a dentist without a hand?! How am I supposed to hold the tools?!” “Is my life just ruined?!” In my past life, I had thought about his future, but he hadn’t appreciated it. In this life, his future was crystal clear. He screamed, he roared. The entire hospital room was filled with his impotent rage. My mom was streaming tears, only able to comfort him softly. “There was nothing we could do. The doctor said when you were brought in, everything was hacked to pieces.” “If they didn’t operate immediately, I would have lost you entirely.” “You are my son. I couldn’t accept that.” Hearing this, Liam didn’t calm down at all. “But what about me?! Aren’t I just a cripple now?!” Just then, my dad walked in after paying the hospital bills. Seeing Liam throwing a fit, rage surged to his head, and he slapped Liam across the face. Even though a look of regret flashed across my dad’s face immediately after, his tone remained harsh. “What else could we do?! Didn’t you choose this yourself?!” “You insisted on saving the housekeeper’s daughter! Shouldn’t you have thought clearly if you could bear the consequences?!” “You charged in there acting like a hero. Did you ever think about me and your mother, and this whole family?!” “If you died, did you think your mother could survive it?!” “The damage is already done. Focus on recovering your body first, and don’t worry about anything else.” Perhaps the slap woke him up, or perhaps it was because Dad had spoken, but Liam finally backed down. He was forced to calm himself. But seeing the dark gloom in his eyes, I knew this was far from over. To reinforce my brother’s resentment, I had to guide him. I would purposefully scroll through Instagram when I had nothing else to do, showing Liam every single update regarding Chloe. “Liam, look, Chloe posted again. Her dress is so pretty.” “It looks like she went to Malibu to eat King Crab. I want to eat that too.” “Wow, Chloe’s bag is so sparkly. It must have diamonds encrusted on it, right? I’m so jealous!” Liam’s face grew uglier and uglier. Of course it did. He was severely injured, lying in a hospital bed unable to move. Meanwhile, the woman he saved with his life was out in Malibu eating King Crab and buying new dresses and designer bags. Anyone would have a problem with that. And everything I did was to ensure he had a problem with it, to drive a wedge between him and Chloe. Although time alone would eventually achieve this effect, my adding fuel to the fire would speed up the process significantly. Liam, I’m doing this for your own good. I’m helping you see clearly exactly what kind of trash you sacrificed yourself for. Don’t worry, I’ll collect my consultation fee later. Days passed, and Liam constantly stared at the door of his room. Every time the door opened, his eyes would light up. But when he saw it was just a nurse or our parents, the light would instantly die. I knew exactly who he was waiting for. Even on the days Chloe didn’t actually go out, I would use Photoshop to seamlessly edit photos of her. I made her look like she was happily enjoying beautiful scenery, angering Liam so much his heart rate monitor would start beeping rapidly. After doing this several times, his mood became incredibly volatile. Just then, the person he had been yearning for day and night finally showed up. She was carrying a basket of apples to see him. “Chloe!” Seeing Chloe, Liam showed his first smile in over half a month. “Are you okay? As long as you’re okay, everything is fine.” I was sitting to the side, looking down and peeling an apple. Chloe very naturally tossed her coat right into my lap. It was always like this in the past. If you didn’t know better, you’d think I was the housekeeper’s daughter. She acted exactly like a spoiled heiress. “I’m fine. Oh, Liam, how did you end up like this? Does it hurt a lot?” Chloe timed her expression of heartache perfectly. “Your… your hand…” His hand was like a forbidden zone for my brother right now. It could not be mentioned. Sure enough, I saw Liam’s face instantly darken. But perhaps because the person in front of him was Chloe, he forcefully suppressed his displeasure. “My hand… is going to be like this forever. Chloe, you won’t despise me, right?” Liam stared intently at Chloe, terrified of missing a single micro-expression. “What are you saying, Liam? If it weren’t for you, the person lying in this hospital bed right now would be me.” “How could I ever despise you?” I caught a glimpse of Chloe’s fingernails digging tightly into her palms. It seemed that even though her words sounded nice, her small physical reactions betrayed her true feelings. You can fake it for a moment, but no one can fake it for a lifetime. A person who could turn tail and run straight home, and then wait over half a month before even visiting the hospital… How long could she possibly keep up the act? 3. At that moment, Liam shifted slightly on the bed. I had heard the doctor say patients needed to be turned frequently, otherwise they would develop bedsores over time. But Liam was covered in wounds. Even when Mom and Dad turned him, they would accidentally brush against his injuries, causing him to gasp in agonizing pain. His emotional state was already highly unstable. Especially when facing close family, his words were incredibly harsh and unpleasant. His tone was absolutely awful. Over time, Dad started using “company business” as an excuse to visit less and less. Mom couldn’t take it either, always claiming there were things to do at home and arriving late. Even though I stayed behind to take care of him, I was no longer the punching bag I used to be. Seeing Liam in such discomfort, I proactively and thoughtfully spoke up. “Chloe, Liam needs to be turned over every day, otherwise he might get bedsores.” “Since you and Liam are so close, why don’t you help turn him?” “Liam would definitely be so happy!” I looked at Liam, and he gave me an appreciative glance. Chloe hesitated heavily. You could tell just by looking at her that she was reluctant. But I did it on purpose. The more she didn’t want to, the more she hesitated, the deeper the conflict with Liam would become. “Does Chloe not want to? I guess I’ll have to do it then.” I reached out toward Liam, but he refused me with a dark expression. “What, I saved your life, and you aren’t even willing to help turn me over?” “Does your gratitude for saving your life even exist?” Liam’s voice was devoid of emotion, scaring Chloe so much she shrank back visibly. Reluctantly, she moved to help turn Liam. And I, very “accidentally,” tripped Chloe. Caught off guard, she fell forward, landing her entire body weight directly on top of Liam. The crushing weight made Liam let out a bloodcurdling scream. Fresh blood immediately seeped through his bandages. “You… why did you trip me on purpose?!” Chloe shrieked, pointing the finger directly at me. I put on my most innocent face. “Chloe, what are you talking about? I’ve been standing right here the whole time.” “Is it because you didn’t want to turn Liam, so you did this on purpose so you wouldn’t have to come back anymore?” I fired right back at her. Liam finally caught his breath, his face looking absolutely ghastly. I continued forcing Chloe to do the work. “Look at what you did, look at how badly you crushed Liam!” “Can’t you be a little more gentle? I remember you always being so soft-spoken and gentle!” I watched Chloe take a deep breath before touching my brother again. But she had no control over her strength. Several times she moved him so roughly that Liam sucked in cold air through his teeth. “Can’t you use a lighter touch?! I’m a human being, not a slab of dead meat!” “Can you even do this right?! You’re pressing right on my wound!” After tossing and turning for a while, a specific spot on Liam’s white bandages began seeping fresh blood again. His face turned extremely pale, especially his lips, which lost all their color. But I waited a good while longer. Only when I estimated it was about time for Mom to arrive with food did I scream in panic. “Liam! You’re bleeding! What do we do?!” “Chloe, if you didn’t want to help, you could have just let me do it!” Chloe was terrified. She waved her hands frantically, opening her mouth to argue back. But before she could get a word out, Mom pushed the door open and walked in. Mom’s face was thunderous as she glared viciously at Chloe. “A housekeeper’s daughter who doesn’t even know how to serve people! What are you even good for?!” “My son ended up like this because he saved you, and you can’t even look after him properly?!” “Are you only good for eating?!” Chloe didn’t dare say a word. All she could do was let her tears fall, pat, pat, pat. I quickly started adding fuel to the fire, never missing an opportunity to drive a wedge between Chloe and our family members. “It’s all my fault. I thought since Liam is in this condition, he’d be so happy if Chloe helped him.” “I didn’t expect it to turn out like this.” “If I had known, I would have let Chloe rest and continued serving Liam myself.” My statement seemed to be defending Chloe, but it actually intensified the conflict between her and my mom. Sure enough, my mom’s resentment toward Chloe grew even stronger. “Emma, don’t say that. She’s a housekeeper’s daughter to begin with; she should be doing these things.” “If she can’t even do this right and makes you do it…” “Does this cheap little tramp really think she’s some high-society lady?!” My mom was always cruel when she insulted people. Chloe couldn’t bear to listen to it, just standing to the side crying. The more she cried, the more annoyed my mom became. I knew deeply that I had to take things one step at a time and not push too far. I caught a glimpse of heartache in Liam’s eyes as he looked at Chloe, so I quickly found an excuse to leave the battlefield.

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01 Right after I got to the office, the boss called me into his room. My colleagues winked at me: “Chloe is getting converted to a full-time employee early! You landed that massive contract a couple of days ago; your year-end bonus must be in the six figures, right? I’m so jealous!” I smiled without saying anything, a faint anticipation growing inside me. But I never expected the heavy blow that awaited me. The boss frowned and sighed. “Chloe, you’re a female programmer making $5,000 a month, which is even higher than your supervisor’s salary. When I hired you, fighting off all the objections, it was with the expectation that you would achieve something great and change everyone’s stereotypes about women. It’s a pity you didn’t live up to those expectations!” “Forget it, I won’t hold it against you. You didn’t pass your probation period. You can see yourself out.” Staring at his moving lips, I only felt disgusted. My probation period was five months. I clocked in on time and had perfect attendance every month. I didn’t hide in the bathroom playing games, nor did I have a smoking habit. Our company was a vendor in the gaming industry. We did contract work for game companies, from building the underlying logic to implementing systems and level designs. We worked on many different types of games. The foundational code was like a snowball; as it rolled, it picked up dead grass and rotten leaves, full of redundancies. It looked complex and was difficult to push forward. Every project required a lot of time for patching and fixing. During these five months… I voluntarily worked overtime on weekends, streamlining the mountain of legacy spaghetti code to industry standards. Relying on my accumulated network, I secured three projects with a combined profit of nearly five million dollars. At the beginning of the month, the boss quietly upgraded his car to a Maserati. And he’s telling me I didn’t pass my probation? Does he think I’m an idiot he can easily screw over? I took a deep breath, leaned in, and looked down at him. “Boss, during the probationary period, an employee cannot be arbitrarily dismissed unless they have committed a major offense that causes huge financial losses to the company. If you insist on firing me, according to regulations, you must compensate me with half a month’s salary.” “Furthermore, the contract I signed with the company is for two years, making the statutory probation period three months. The company has violated the rules. Not only will you face fines, but you also have to compensate me with one month’s salary.” “That’s not all. Firing a formal employee requires a one-month advance notice. During this month, not only must you continue to pay my insurance and 401k, but every cent of my deserved bonuses must also be paid.” “Oh, did you study law? Then tell me, which act and which clause are you citing?” The boss sneered disdainfully. “Young people shouldn’t think they can bluff me just because they read some stuff online.” “I saw through you a long time ago. You lack capability and love to slack off. You’re just coasting by! You come to the office on weekends, but who knows who you’re putting on a show for.” He sure knows how to twist the truth. I couldn’t be bothered to argue with him. I took out my phone and opened the automated data aggregation page I wrote. It contained a systematized timeline of my clock-ins, code commit version records, and project communication logs. “All work leaves a digital footprint. Which part do you want to see?” “I’ll repeat: you can fire me, but first, write the notification letter, pay my salary, bonuses, and compensation, and I’ll take the money and leave in a month. The evidence is all here. Don’t think you can twist the truth with that pig mouth of yours.” He still tried to lure me into a trap. “Why are you organizing these things instead of working properly? Have you been plotting against the company and me all along?” “The company might be small, but its prospects are good! I provide you with such a great platform, yet you lack ambition, take your salary for nothing, and now you want to extort money. You ungrateful wretch!” It was a clichéd workplace tactic. Using gaslighting and fact-twisting words to enrage the employee. If I cursed back or argued, it would be framed as a severe conflict with the boss. If I slammed the door and left in anger, it would be recorded as absenteeism. After two consecutive days of no-show, I wouldn’t get a single cent of compensation. I didn’t speak. I let him vent, just staring at him. After a few minutes of silence… The boss finally lost his cool. “Do you believe I’ll deactivate your keycard right now and have security throw you out?” “If you do that, then I’ll have to take legal action, and I’ll immediately inform Blue General Games.” “If my memory serves me right, the contract signed with Blue General explicitly states that if the vendor company incurs any legal disputes during the cooperation period, they must compensate five times the project amount, right?” The boss gritted his teeth: “You get out first! I’ll discuss this with HR, and we’ll talk about it another day!” I immediately turned around and went back to my desk. Staying a second longer made me feel sick. Seeing me come out… My colleagues exchanged glances and unanimously looked down at their phones. Sensing something was wrong, I also picked up my phone. The company group chats were all quiet. There were no messages in the casual chat group either. Until I switched to my alt account. I found a new group chat. [Chloe didn’t pass her probation. If any of you have evidence of her slacking off, goofing around, or failing to fix bugs on time, send it to me privately. Every piece of evidence will be rewarded with a hundred dollars.] [After she leaves, everyone’s year-end bonus will be increased by two hundred dollars.] [Don’t worry, she’s on probation, and you are formal employees. The company won’t treat you unfairly.] The avatar of the person sending the messages was a Maserati car key. The nickname I had saved for him was “Son of a Bitch”. 02 I almost burst out laughing. I used this account to send materials to friends on forums. After joining the company, I lent it to a colleague for a while. She returned it to me when she resigned. I was too lazy to change the name or delete the friends. I guess the boss thought it was still my former colleague and added the account to the group. I looked up and observed the room. The colleagues who had been added all looked troubled. For one, if they reported me this time, it might be their turn next. For another, my work was indeed flawless. If they wanted to earn this money, they needed presentable evidence. They didn’t have any, but I did. I used my alt account to private message “Son of a Bitch”. [Boss, do ex-employees like me get paid for reporting Chloe too? Paid immediately? Venmo or Zelle?] The boss replied quickly. [Sarah? I remember you and Chloe were pretty close. You’re reporting her?] [Boss, you know someone in my family is hospitalized, and the daily expenses are huge. No matter how close Chloe and I are, it can’t compare to life-saving money.] The boss took the bait. [You have evidence? Send it to me. If it’s good, I’ll transfer the money to you immediately!] Sure enough, in his eyes, everyone should be driven by profit. I found a photo of myself sitting at my desk, the screen showing a forum. [October 11th, makeup workday, Chloe browsing forums at work.] After sending it, the “typing…” indicator stayed on for three seconds, then nothing. I quickly added more fuel to the fire. [I searched this forum. It’s full of programmers discussing code. Wasn’t Chloe modifying the company’s core code during that time? She turned right around and posted on the internet. The title was even something like ‘Practical Optimization and Architecture Insights’.] [I’m not trying to stir up trouble, but our company’s core competitiveness is this very system. If others take it and use it, wouldn’t they be taking a piece of our pie?] This time, the “typing…” indicator lasted for ten seconds. Still no reply. I thought it was a bust. But then I saw the boss come out of his office and head straight for the surveillance monitors. He stayed there for a full half hour. During that half hour, I slowly drank a cup of water and fixed two bugs. Until my pocket vibrated slightly. The boss, as promised, transferred a hundred dollars. I clicked reject. [Boss, you didn’t add a note. I don’t dare accept it.] The boss floated past me, grinding his teeth. A moment later, the alt account received the transfer again. Note: Company overtime compensation. [Now that you’ve taken the money, you should know what to say and what not to say!] I grinned, showing all my teeth. [Thank you, boss!] After collecting the money, I opened Amazon and ordered a new pair of headphones. My joy was short-lived. The boss stormed over, spit flying all over my screen. “Chloe, come in here for a minute!” 03 Inside the office. The boss slammed his phone down in front of me. He looked at me with a face full of feigned regret. “Chloe, I wanted to let you leave with some dignity. But this is too serious. It’s so serious it crosses the company’s bottom line.” “Posting the company’s underlying code on a public forum constitutes leaking trade secrets. I can call the police and sue you for damages.” “How about this? You resign voluntarily, and I won’t call the police.” I had figured it out earlier. My salary was high. According to his promise, my year-end bonus was to be calculated at eight times my monthly salary, which meant he owed me forty thousand dollars. He didn’t want to pay that money. Moreover, in his view, for the new project, he just needed to find someone barely competent to replace me; there was no need to pay another huge salary. Businessmen prioritize profit above all; there is simply no room for sentiment. But his evidence was provided by me. Who would actually sabotage themselves? I pulled a chair over and sat down firmly. I picked up his phone, zooming in on the date and the post title in the photo. Then I took my own phone from my pocket, opened the forum, found the post history, and placed both phones in front of him. “Who gave you this photo? I encourage you to call the police.” “The date on the photo is October 11th. Based on the title, it should be this post: ‘Practical Sharing on the Underlying Architecture of 2D Side-Scrolling Games’. I did write this post, but it was in 2023.” “The reason I was looking at this that day was to find commonalities in order to modify the company’s underlying architecture.” “If you want to be pedantic, the company should be paying me intellectual property fees.” The boss’s eyes widened. He incredulously picked up the two phones, comparing them repeatedly. His face turned red, then pale. I pressed my advantage. “Boss, are you going to pay up?” “I’m afraid that once I walk out that door, I might not be able to resist mentioning this to the client.” The contract stated that any intellectual property disputes involving materials provided by the vendor would require triple compensation. The boss looked like he was about to shatter his teeth. “Two hundred! That’s enough, right?” “Thank you, boss!” I left satisfied. Actually, I was lying to him. Publicly shared knowledge like this doesn’t meet the conditions for tracing intellectual property rights. But he only cared about money; how would he know that? Back at my desk. My alt account was bombarded with messages. [Sarah! You useless trash! This photo is completely useless!] [I knew you were garbage. Thank God I fired you!] [Transfer the money back to me, or else when I find your current superior, I’ll make sure you’re completely ruined!] Why would I return money that was already in my hands? I started playing the victim. [Boss! You can’t blame me! That bitch Chloe definitely guarded against this! She has more schemes than a sieve has holes!] [Trust me one more time! This time, I got a voice recording! From her own mouth!] [I had to pull a lot of strings to get it, and the hundred you gave me was spent on that… So, could you give me a little more? Fifty is fine!] [I promise! This recording will nail Chloe to the wall!] Between falling for another fifty-dollar trick and losing forty thousand dollars, the boss chose the former. I sent him the specially edited recording. [Chloe secretly contacted a rival company, saying she wants to bring our company down!] This time, the boss sat in the surveillance room for most of the day. If he was attentive enough, he would have definitely seen the fierce expression on my face while holding the phone on the rooftop. He naturally attributed it to my hatred for the company. At midnight, I received a warning from the boss. [Delete the transfer record. You should know the consequences of being a snitch.] I replied fawningly: [Yes, sir! I promise to keep it a secret!] 04 Early the next morning, the boss called a company-wide meeting. His face was dark, his eyes red, looking exactly like a gambler who had lost all his chips. “Some colleagues have engaged in egregious behavior, biting the hand that feeds them!” “Today, I must teach her a harsh lesson!” My colleagues’ gazes unanimously fell on me. I stood up, acting as if nothing was wrong, entered the conference room, chose a corner seat, and logged into my alt account. [Boss, I have a friend who runs a gaming industry news blog. When are you free? I’ll have her come over.] [Give her the recording. Tell her some more dirt, and once the article is published, her reputation will be ruined. She’ll definitely have a hard time finding a job in the future.] The boss stopped in his tracks at the door. He frowned at his phone, then said: “Something came up. The meeting is postponed to 2 PM.” My phone vibrated. He sent a message: [Does she charge? I don’t want anyone who charges! If she doesn’t charge, have her come to the company at 2 PM.] [Got it, boss! Absolutely free!] 05 During the lunch break, my colleagues squeezed into the pantry. “Isn’t the boss going too far? Chloe has made a lot of money for the company.” “The boss is incredibly stingy! Look at the job boards; the salary for the same position is at least five hundred more. If it weren’t for the bad economy, I would have left a long time ago.” “Stingy and short-sighted! Last week, the boss didn’t want to fight for that project because he thought the production cycle was too long. Chloe secured it anyway, and only then did he find out the six-month project fee was over a million dollars. Sticking with a boss like this, who knows when the company might go under? If it weren’t for my car loan, I would have left too!” “Whatever, let’s just coast here. If you do a good job, you still have to leave eventually!” The receptionist hurriedly filled a cup of coffee. “Can’t talk to you guys right now. The boss told me to receive a visitor. Sigh, when will I find a company that allows a normal lunch break?” I shrank back into the corner. Visitor? But I just messaged my journalist friend, and she said she was coming over after lunch. Could there be someone else?

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I asked my best friend to try on the bridesmaid dress, but she ended up wearing my wedding gown instead. On the morning of my wedding, she and my fiancé stumbled out of the same hotel room, clothes rumpled. The hotel staff were shocked, and my parents were crying and screaming. My fiancé, looking guilty, stepped forward to hug me. I didn’t yell or throw a fit. Instead, I generously announced on the spot that I was giving the wedding ceremony to them. My best friend looked smug, but she had no idea. Just a moment ago, when my fiancé hugged me, the protective jade pendant my grandmother left me shattered. My grandmother always said that if the jade shattered, it was blocking a disaster. An apocalyptic disaster. 1 “Katie, last night was an accident. I accidentally put on your wedding dress, and Liam had too much to drink and didn’t see clearly…” My best friend, Chloe, said this, but she couldn’t hide the pride in her eyes. I knew exactly what she was so proud of. Liam came from a prominent family, had great looks and charisma, and on top of that, he doted on his girlfriends. During the six months he pursued me, he bought me over a hundred thousand dollars worth of gifts. Now, six months into our relationship, just when I had finally agreed to marry him, this happened. The scene in front of me was almost comical. Chloe was wearing my wedding dress, which was torn in places, and the marks on her exposed skin broadcasted exactly what happened last night. My fiancé, Liam, kept his head down, seemingly afraid to look at me. My parents kicked Liam in the leg and, even while being held back by the hotel staff, continued to curse at him, pointing fingers. Liam picked himself up from the floor, walked over to me, and gave me a gentle hug. “Katie, I’m so sorry. But what’s done is done. Please, just let us be.” What a shameless thing to say. I wasn’t an idiot. I could tell how satisfied he was with Chloe. Chloe definitely had a better figure than me and was much more open-minded. Liam had hinted at it many times while we were dating, but I insisted on waiting until after marriage. Just when everyone thought I was going to slap him and curse out his entire family… I smiled and nodded. “Sure.” Not only that, I added, “The hotel is already booked anyway. You two should get married today, right here.” Liam let out a sigh of relief. “Katie, I knew you were a generous girl.” My parents were so furious they almost died on the spot. They even wanted to grab a broom from the cleaning staff and beat me with it. “Katie! You’re just going to let these two cheating dogs go?! Where are we supposed to show our faces now?!” I dragged my furious parents away. Around the corner of the hallway, I pulled out the jade pendant from under my clothes. It was broken into two pieces. “Mom, Dad, this is the jade pendant Grandma left me.” As soon as my parents saw the once flawless, pale green jade broken in half, their anger instantly vanished. My mom grabbed me and practically dragged me onto the elevator. She asked me, her eyes darting around like security cameras: “Did this… just break?” My dad’s face went from beet red to deathly pale, his fingers trembling slightly. “No way…” I nodded. “It shattered just now when Liam hugged me.” My parents exchanged a look, their brows furrowed so tightly they couldn’t relax. As soon as we stepped off the hotel elevator, my dad announced: “We’re moving. Now!!” Passing by the bride and groom welcome signs outside the hotel, my parents kicked Liam’s sign over and took mine with them. My mom immediately called the wedding planner. She demanded that they take away all text and pictures related to me, leaving absolutely no trace behind. Seeing how incredibly tense my parents were, I was moved to act too. I deleted all of Liam’s contact info and photos from my phone. Our family fled the hotel in a panic. That very night, we packed up and moved out of the city. 2 The reason we were so tense was because of the jade pendant my grandmother left behind. My grandmother was the most accurate psychic for miles around. From shocking murders to finding lost cats and dogs, she could calculate anything. Some people even whispered that she wasn’t human, but an animal spirit that had attained enlightenment. Because my grandmother never got a single prediction wrong in her entire life. My grandmother lived to be exactly ninety-nine years old. The day she passed away was a clear winter day. She was sitting in her rocking chair in the yard, soaking up the sun. After petting our yellow dog twice, she called my name. “Katie!” I was only eight years old at the time. When I walked over, she took the jade pendant she had worn her whole life and tied it around my neck. “Katie, wear this jade pendant well and never take it off. If it shatters one day, it means it blocked a disaster for you.” “You must immediately get away from the person closest to you when it breaks.” “The jade shatters to block a disaster. An apocalyptic disaster.” I didn’t understand back then and asked foolishly: “Grandma? What big disaster?” My grandmother looked at me and slowly said through her toothless mouth: “Three Families Village.” Leaving only those three words, she closed her eyes, leaned back in her rocking chair, and passed away peacefully. Afterward, my grandmother had a grand funeral. Important people from our town and all six neighboring towns came to pay their respects. I told my parents everything about my grandmother giving me the jade. I asked them what “Three Families Village” was, but they refused to speak of it. Instead, they immediately packed up our belongings and moved us to the city. Now, memories that had been sealed away for years awakened. The absurd drama between me, Liam, and Chloe spread all over social media. At first, everyone thought what Chloe did was despicable, stealing her best friend’s fiancé. But then people found out that not only was I not angry, but I also handed over the groom and the wedding ceremony. Some started calling me a coward, saying I had no spine if I could just let my best friend and boyfriend sleep together without throwing a fit. Rumors flew everywhere. But I didn’t care. I let them talk. Chloe successfully hijacked the wedding, becoming the bride and Liam’s lawful wife. She seemed very proud of herself. She constantly posted on social media, showing off from the wedding day until now. A dazzling diamond ring the size of a pigeon egg, a $20,000 cash gift from Liam’s parents, Liam kneeling to put a designer shoe on her foot, and closet after closet of luxury goods… [Thanks to Katie, and thanks to the me who bravely chased after love.] [This time, I want both money and love.] [You only live once, bravery happens right now.] Liam also gave his new wife plenty of face, constantly posting photos showing off their love. Many mutual friends liked her posts, some even sucking up to her in the comments, saying things like, “Looks like someone else just didn’t have the blessing for this life.” Chloe seemed very satisfied with everyone putting me down and replied with a grinning emoji. Looking at these posts showing off her wealth, I actually laughed out loud. She probably had no idea what was waiting for her. Not only that, Chloe flaunted her wealth online, posting the “glorious” story of how she hijacked the wedding, which attracted a lot of attention. Her account gained 500,000 followers overnight. The comments were full of people praising her as a “boss babe,” saying “the brave enjoy the world first,” and “the one who isn’t loved is the real third wheel.” The news that my parents and I moved overnight also reached the internet. The people who originally mocked me for being a coward laughed even harder, saying my parents and I were made of the same weak stuff, scared and spineless. I didn’t care if they insulted me, but seeing the comments mocking my parents, I couldn’t help but fire back. I commented on Chloe’s post: [Insult me all you want, but what’s the deal with attacking my parents? Do none of you have parents? Please watch your mouths, and Miss Chloe, please stop using me for clout.] 3 As soon as I posted the comment, I turned off my direct messages. Sure enough, my comment was immediately flooded with hate. Chloe didn’t reply, but she liked all the comments attacking me. I shook my head at these people who couldn’t tell right from wrong. Whatever. People do what they do, and heaven watches. We hadn’t just moved; our new home was halfway across the state from our old city. It was a remote location with a relatively small population. My mom had suggested moving to a nearby city, but my dad, for whatever reason, insisted on going hundreds of miles away. My mom couldn’t change his mind, so she had to agree. Although I believed my grandmother’s words, I was still very curious about my parents’ reaction. During dinner that night, I asked them: “Mom, Dad, what exactly did Grandma mean by an apocalyptic disaster?” My parents, who were smiling just a moment ago, instantly stiffened. My mom put a piece of braised pork into my dad’s bowl. “Katie is grown up now, honey. We can tell her, right?” My dad hesitated but eventually nodded. “You tell her.” My curiosity flared. “An apocalyptic disaster? Does that mean a natural disaster is coming?” “You remember Three Families Village, right?” My mom looked very serious. I nodded. “I remember. Grandma mentioned it to me.” My mom’s expression turned strange. “Three Families Village… a few hundred people, originally located about ten miles from our town. Overnight, the entire village hanged themselves. Wiped out.” As soon as she said that, the warm atmosphere at the dinner table froze. “Hanged… hanged themselves?” I was shocked. I had thought the “apocalyptic disaster” my grandmother mentioned meant a flood, earthquake, or some other natural disaster. I never expected it to be something so bizarre. I quickly asked, “Why?” My parents looked uneasy and said in unison: “It was haunted.” Even after dinner was over, the shock in my heart hadn’t subsided. No wonder my grandmother gave me that protective jade pendant before she died. So the jade pendant really did block a massive disaster for me. It seems my grandmother not only calculated things her whole life, but she even calculated my future. Thinking about what happened in Three Families Village still gave me the creeps. Hundreds of people hanging themselves overnight is truly a horrific tragedy. According to my parents, whatever disaster was about to fall upon Liam would probably be even more terrifying than that. But why didn’t the jade pendant break before? Why did it only break after Liam and Chloe hooked up? Did my grandmother foresee even this twist? Just as I was marveling at my grandmother’s brilliance, my phone rang. It was an unknown number, so I answered it. A smooth, gentle voice came through: “Katie, how are you holding up?” It was Liam! I immediately hung up and blocked the number. I didn’t dare have anything to do with him anymore. After that night, I stopped answering calls from any unknown numbers. I was terrified of dying! Chloe continued to flaunt her status as a wealthy wife online. Luxury cars, expensive watches, gold, and jewelry flowed into her bedroom like a river. Perhaps she got bored, because she started coming after me again. 4 In the middle of the night, Chloe, dressed to the nines and wearing an expensive fur coat, sat on a luxurious sofa live-streaming. The viewers flooding into the stream were all praising her beauty. Chloe smiled and nodded. “I was bored today, so I started a stream to chat with everyone.” After casually showing off a few designer bags, prodded by viewer comments, she brought my name up again. “Her? She was probably born without the destiny to be rich. Even when the food is fed right to her mouth, she wouldn’t eat it, hehe.” “Best friend? We used to be… but did she really treat me as a best friend? She didn’t even tell me when she met Liam. She only told me after they got together. Was she afraid I’d steal her man? So much for women supporting women, haha.” “Where is she now? Probably scared to death with her family. They fled overnight on the day Liam and I got married, probably afraid I’d become a rich wife and take revenge on them.” … Watching this unfamiliar woman on the screen, I couldn’t help but sigh. How could I have been so blind before? Chloe was still spreading rumors about me, but the sharp-eyed viewers in the stream noticed something bizarre. [Chloe, did the closet behind you just move?] [I thought I was the only one who saw that! It feels like there’s something inside?] [Yeah, you should check it out. Maybe it’s a puppy?] Chloe didn’t see the comments at first. Not until the chat was entirely filled with people telling her to watch her back. And I had seen it just now, too. The closet behind Chloe was slightly ajar, revealing a crack, and there seemed to be a faint eye looking out. The angle was extremely strange, because if it was an eye, it was at the very bottom of the closet. Chloe clicked her tongue in annoyance and pulled her fur coat tighter. “You guys are just trying to scare me. There’s no one else in the mansion tonight, don’t try to scare me.” Saying that, as if to prove she wasn’t afraid, her high heels clicked across the floor as she walked up to the closet. “There, see?!” She yanked the door open. Crash— A man in a black leather jacket tumbled out upside down and crashed onto the floor. He was wearing a black face mask, and a bunch of expensive jewelry spilled out onto the floor with him. He was probably a burglar. But instead of running, he curled up in the corner trembling, his eyes unfocused, his face a sickly pale color. “Ghost… there’s a ghost… ghost… don’t kill me… don’t…” When he saw Chloe’s pale neck, he let out a bloodcurdling scream, fell to his knees, and started kowtowing to her repeatedly. “I’m begging you! Please don’t kill me, don’t kill me, I didn’t mean to… spare me, spare me…” The man smashed his forehead against the floor until it bled, banging his head faster and faster. Chloe froze for a second, then clutched her chest and ran away screaming. “Help! There’s a burglar! Help!” In the chaos, the phone streaming the video was knocked to the ground, so we couldn’t see what happened next. Watching the burglar who had been scared out of his wits, I felt a mix of shock and fear. What exactly did he see to be scared like that? Remembering what my mom said about Three Families Village, I had a bad feeling. Maybe this was the omen of the approaching disaster. There was definitely something unclean in the Liam’s mansion now.

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