Before I died, my six-year-old son cried and begged his father three times. The first time, my son tugged on the man’s hand, crying that I was coughing up blood. The man sneered. “So she’s finally learning some new tricks. Teaching her kid to lie for her now.” Then, he ordered his bodyguards to throw my son out of the VIP suite. The second time, my son grabbed the man’s sleeve, crying that I was in so much pain I was hallucinating. The man frowned. “It’s just a heart transplant. The doctors said she won’t die.” The bodyguards stepped forward and dragged my son out again. The third time, my son threw himself on the floor, desperately clinging to his father’s pant leg, sobbing that I had lost consciousness. The man finally lost his temper. He grabbed my son by the collar and hurled him out into the hallway. “I told you, Chloe isn’t going to die. If you come in here and disturb Evelyn’s rest one more time, I will throw both of you out of this hospital.” To save me, my son pawned his most precious possession—his pure gold longevity locket—to a nurse. “Auntie, I don’t want to live a long life anymore. I just want my mommy to live.” The nurse took the locket and prepared to transfer me to the last available private room. But my husband’s first love, Evelyn Vance, had someone hold her pet poodle and blocked the door to the room. She smiled sweetly. “Sorry, little boy. Your daddy was worried I’d get bored without my dog, so this room is reserved for my puppy.” To make room for Evelyn’s dog, my hospital bed was pushed out into the cold, drafty hallway. As the door to the private suite closed, my son still held the locket he had just taken off his neck. He pounded his small, bruising fists against the heavy door, over and over again. “Auntie, please give the room back to my mommy!” “Auntie, Leo is begging you, please open the door!” My son’s childish, desperate voice echoed down the long hallway, but it couldn’t reach Evelyn, who was busy playing with her dog inside. The louder my son cried, the more amused she seemed to get. “Good puppy. We ignore dirty things.” My son’s voice slowly grew hoarse. This was the boy who used to cry for a hug if he so much as scraped his knee. Now, he just wiped his bloody, bruised knuckles on his shirt. With tears streaming down his face, he screamed with pure hatred: “You bad woman! I bought this room with my locket! You have no right to use it for a dog!” “You bad woman!” His voice was so raw it was barely audible, his accusations filled with a heartbreaking fragility. I lay on the cot in the hallway, my tears mixing with the blood pooling in my mouth. I’m sorry, Leo. Mommy couldn’t protect you. I’m so sorry. I’m sorry. The door to the suite never opened. My son stumbled back to my bedside, his eyes swollen and terrifyingly red. “Mommy, I’m sorry. Leo is useless. I let the bad lady steal your room.” “Mommy, I’m sorry.” I could feel my life slipping away. I knew I was dying. But I was so afraid of scaring my Leo. Using the last ounce of my strength, I forced a smile and whispered weakly: “Leo, Mommy is a little cold. Could you go find a blanket for Mommy? Just for a little bit?” He froze for two seconds, then frantically wiped his tears away and nodded vigorously. “Okay! Leo will go get one right now!” “Mommy, you have to wait for Leo to come back! You have to wait!” Watching his tiny figure disappear down the hall, my eyes slowly fell shut. Leo, I’m sorry. Mommy can’t wait. When I opened my eyes again, I had become a spirit, hovering right beside my son. My son was smart. He knew home was too far away, so when he spotted an open door to a standard ward, he ran straight inside. Lying in the bed was a young woman. Her husband was carefully tucking her in, smoothing out every wrinkle in the blanket. Next to them sat a little boy, maybe five years old, holding a cup of warm water and sweetly calling her “Mommy.” For some reason, seeing them made Leo want to cry again. But he knew he couldn’t cry. He had to borrow a blanket for his mommy. The young couple was startled by his sudden appearance. The man gently brushed the dirt off Leo’s clothes, his voice soft: “Hey buddy, do you need something? Where’s your mom?” Leo nervously picked at his fingers, gathering his courage. “Mister, my mommy is sick. She’s really cold right now. Could I please borrow a blanket?” “I can trade you my gold locket for it. Please help my mommy, okay?” The man paused, then immediately pulled an unopened blanket from the cabinet and handed it to Leo. “Take it. I hope your mom feels better soon.” Maybe it was because he had suffered so much abuse tonight, but faced with a stranger’s kindness, Leo suddenly lost his words. He clutched the blanket tightly, bowing over and over again. “Thank you, Mister. Thank you, Miss. Thank you so much.” The man waved his hand, stopping him. “No need to thank me. We didn’t buy this blanket.” “The CEO who built this hospital, Mr. Sterling, gave one to every patient’s family to celebrate his wife’s successful surgery today.” “Look, it even has a picture of him and his wife printed on the bag.” “If you really want to thank someone, just wish Mr. Sterling and his wife a long, happy marriage.” Leo froze. The image of Julian Sterling throwing him out of the hospital room flashed through his mind. Followed immediately by the memory of Julian putting him on his shoulders, running and laughing across a grassy field. The tears he had been holding back suddenly flooded out. “I know. I’ll make sure to thank… Mr. Sterling.” My ghostly heart ached worse than when I was on the operating table. Looking at the deadness in my son’s eyes, I thought about the past. Truthfully, Julian Sterling used to love me and our son very much. When Leo was born, Julian stayed awake for three days straight just trying to pick the perfect name. He bought out entire toy stores just for Leo’s birthday. When I caught a simple cold, he would hold Leo and read him silly fairy tales so I could rest. But all of that ended the day Evelyn Vance returned to the country. Using her heart condition as a weapon, she framed me and my son over and over again. She played the helpless, fragile victim, manipulating Julian’s pity. She even tricked Leo into putting a caterpillar on her bed, triggering a fake heart attack just as Julian walked into the room. Since that day, everything changed. In the ward, the man nodded approvingly and asked: “By the way, where is your dad? Why isn’t he with you?” Leo lowered his head. His tears dripped onto the plastic wrapping, landing right on the printed photo of Julian and Evelyn smiling happily together. His voice was so quiet it was barely a whisper: “My dad… he’s dead.” After saying goodbye to the kind man, Leo hugged the hard-earned blanket and ran back toward the main hospital lobby. The moment he stepped into the hall, he crashed right into Evelyn, who was holding her poodle. She scowled, a flash of pure disgust crossing her perfectly made-up face. “Get out of the way, you little bastard.” “Do you know how expensive this dress is? Even if I sold you, you couldn’t afford to dry clean it.” “You’re just like your mother. Absolute trash.” Her face darkened. Completely ignoring the bruises already covering Leo’s forehead, she raised her foot and kicked him hard in the chest. The unexpected kick sent Leo flying backward, slamming into the hard tile floor. The blanket tumbled out of his arms. Ignoring the pain, he scrambled forward to grab the blanket, but Evelyn stepped her stiletto heel squarely onto his small hand. She ground her heel into his fingers, looking down at him with venomous eyes. “Listen to me, you little bastard. If you ever dare to run to Julian with that pathetic, crying face again, I will have someone throw you and your cheap whore of a mother out onto the street.” “Do you understand me?” Her eyes were filled with such malice, it looked like she wanted him dead. I ground my teeth together. A wave of rage and heartbreak so immense it felt like the ocean threatened to drown me. I reached out, fighting like a madwoman to shove Evelyn’s foot off him, screaming at her: Let go of my child! If you have a problem, take it out on me! Don’t you dare touch my son! I screamed until my spirit felt like it was tearing apart, but Evelyn couldn’t hear a word. She stood there, relishing the sight of my son’s face turning red from the agonizing pain, and pressed her heel down even harder. Leo’s arm began to spasm uncontrollably, but he refused to cry. He looked up, his red, swollen eyes glaring fiercely at the glamorous woman above him. “My mommy isn’t cheap. My mommy is the best mommy in the whole world.” “You’re a bad woman. I won’t let you hurt my mommy.” With that, Leo lunged forward and bit down hard on Evelyn’s ankle, thinking she would pull her foot back. Already enraged, Evelyn completely lost it. She kicked her pointed heel violently into Leo’s fragile stomach. “You little bastard!” I screamed in horror, throwing my ghostly body over my son, desperately trying to shield him. But he phased right through me, crashing heavily into the wall. He coughed up a massive mouthful of blood. Yet he still refused to cry out loud. He stubbornly reached his small, trembling hand across the floor, feeling blindly. “Blan… blanket…” “Mommy needs her blanket…” Not satisfied, Evelyn dropped her poodle, stomped over to him, and raised her hand to strike his face. “Evelyn?” Julian’s voice, filled with disbelief, suddenly echoed through the lobby, freezing everyone in place. The deadness in Leo’s eyes suddenly sparked with life. He opened his torn, bleeding lips and called out softly: “Daddy…” Julian started to walk toward him, but Evelyn quickly spun around and intercepted him. “Julian! I was just looking for you.” She subtly signaled her bodyguards to block Leo from Julian’s line of sight, then threw herself into Julian’s arms with a sweet, fragile smile. Julian sensed something was wrong. He frowned. “Evelyn, was that Leo on the floor? Did you hit him?” Evelyn’s eyes darted nervously, and tears immediately spilled down her cheeks. “Julian, I’m so sorry. You weren’t here, and Leo… I don’t know who put him up to it, but he ran all the way to my room and cursed at me for so long.” “I didn’t want to hold it against him, but just now, he intentionally rammed into me again.” “You know I just had major surgery. The doctor said…” Julian’s expression darkened. The suspicion in his eyes quickly morphed into blazing anger. “Chloe is really becoming a terrible mother.” “Your body is already weak. If his little tantrums caused any complications, I swear I’d make them pay.” I stood right in front of Julian, screaming, desperately trying to explain. No! Leo didn’t do anything! Leo is a good boy! Evelyn is lying to you! Leo must have heard him too. Fighting through the agonizing pain, he forced out another cry: “Daddy…” The word had barely left his lips before a bodyguard clamped a hand over his mouth. Julian stopped, turning his head slightly. “Was that Leo calling me?” Evelyn’s face twisted into something ugly for a split second, before she put on a brave, long-suffering smile and gently let go of Julian’s arm. “Go be with Leo, then. I’ll be fine.” “Even though he was the one who caused my heart attack last time, almost making me lose you forever…” “He’s just a child. I forgive him.” Her words instantly extinguished any hesitation in Julian’s eyes, replacing it with cold resolve. He scoffed coldly, turning away from her and striding toward the elevator. “If his mother refuses to discipline him, then you can teach him some manners for me, Evelyn.” “A piece of jade is useless until it’s carved. If we don’t teach him a lesson now, Chloe is going to ruin him permanently.” “I’ll wait for you upstairs.” Watching him walk away, Leo’s struggles became frantic. Evelyn walked over to him and slapped him hard across the face, again and again. His cheeks were completely swollen, his lips split open, blood streaming down his chin. But no matter how hard she hit him, he refused to let go of the blanket. Evelyn wasn’t finished. She dragged her long, sharp acrylic nails violently down the side of his eye. “You little bastard. You’re just as pathetic as your mother.” I went completely insane, trying to choke the life out of the monster beating my son. But I was nothing but air. I fell to my knees, weeping, slamming my spectral head against the floor in a desperate kowtow. I begged Evelyn, pleading with her to spare my child, to remember he was only a little boy. But it was useless. I was so full of hatred. I hated that I died so early. I hated that I couldn’t protect my own flesh and blood. The brutal beating only stopped when Evelyn’s poodle let out a sharp bark. “Oh, baby, did mommy scare you?” She stroked the dog’s smooth fur, her voice sickly sweet. Then, as if she was finally bored, she ordered the bodyguards to drop Leo on the floor. She raised her foot, stepping heavily onto his bruised, purple face, looking down at him with fake pity. “See? Even your daddy doesn’t want you.” “So pathetic.” The elevator doors slowly slid shut. Leaving my son’s tiny, battered body curled into a tight ball on the freezing tile floor. I knelt beside him. Even though I knew it was impossible, I tried over and over again to scoop him into my arms. It was useless. Completely useless. The hospital doors were locked for the night. Without Julian’s explicit orders, no one in this building dared to help my child. The blood around Leo’s mouth had started to dry. His eyelids fluttered, but he couldn’t find the strength to open them. The only sound was the faint crinkling of the plastic bag wrapped around the blanket he held tightly against his chest. The gold longevity locket was gone. The only proof it ever existed was a faint red indentation around his neck—a reminder that he, too, was once a deeply loved, cherished child. I don’t know how long I knelt there, or how long I cried. I only knew my chest hurt so much it had gone completely numb, and I had no tears left to shed. Just as I thought the nightmare was finally over, Julian came back down. The sharp clack of his custom Italian leather shoes echoed across the lobby floor. He walked to the center of the room, looking at Leo’s motionless body, his eyes dark and unreadable. “Are you done putting on a show?” “Is this how Chloe taught you to beg for sympathy?” “Do you honestly think playing the victim is going to make me go soft?” “Keep dreaming!” Every cold, venomous word out of his mouth felt like a knife stabbing repeatedly into my already dead heart. I wanted to scream at him: Are you even human?! What gives you the right to assume the worst about my child?! He’s so good, he’s so well-behaved, he’s so… A continuous stream of ghostly tears fell, landing silently on Leo’s face. I don’t know if it was my imagination, but his eyelashes fluttered. Julian was still spitting cruel threats. But when Leo didn’t react at all, a flicker of unease finally crossed his face. He took a step forward, walking slowly toward his son. “Leo?” “Why aren’t you answering me?” “I see right through you. Stop pretending.” Julian’s tone grew heavier with every word, his pace quickening. Just as he was about to reach him, Leo’s hand twitched. Julian stopped dead in his tracks. The panic on his face instantly vanished, replaced by the furious indignation of someone who thought they had almost been tricked again. He pulled out his phone, snapped a few photos of Leo’s back, and texted them to my phone. [Chloe, you’ve really outdone yourself. Playing the victim wasn’t enough, now you’re making your kid lie for you!] [Fine. If you want to use him as a prop, let’s see who caves first!] After sending the text, Julian turned around. He hesitated for a long moment, but ultimately walked away without looking back. Once the lobby was completely silent again, Leo forced his eyes open and let out a series of ragged coughs. Every cough brought up more blood. It wasn’t until a bright red drop landed on the plastic bag he was holding that he jolted awake. He struggled to his feet, carefully hugging the blanket to his chest, and smiled through his split, ruined lips. Then, stumbling and dragging his feet, he made his way back to the hallway where my bed was. When his hand touched my freezing cold skin, he froze. Then, using the very last of his strength, he unfolded the blanket and draped it over my body. “Be a good girl, Mommy. With the blanket, you won’t be cold anymore.” With that, he collapsed, losing consciousness. The next morning, an intern doctor walking by let out a bloodcurdling scream that echoed through the entire hospital. “Someone help! We have a deceased patient over here!” Hearing the commotion, Julian irritably pushed his way through the gathering crowd. “What is everyone crowding around for? If you wake Evelyn up, I’ll have all of you—” His words died in his throat. He saw the woman lying dead on the cot, and the little boy draped over her body, his breathing terrifyingly shallow. All the color drained from Julian’s face. “Ch… Chloe…” He whispered my name, then shoved the crowd aside and sprinted to my bed. Looking at my pale, stiff corpse, completely devoid of life… Julian’s heart violently seized. His hand trembled violently as he reached out, trying to check if I was still breathing. But as his hand brushed against Leo’s bruised, purple face, he flinched. Almost instinctively, he scooped Leo into his arms. His eyes were bloodshot as he screamed at the stunned crowd: “Doctors! Where are the damn doctors?!” The crowd erupted into chaos. Several doctors and nurses quickly pushed their way through, leading Julian toward the emergency trauma unit. He carefully placed Leo’s unconscious body onto a gurney. Floating above them, I finally let out a sigh of relief. Watching the sheer, unadulterated panic on Julian’s face, I couldn’t help but find it hilarious. Wasn’t this exactly what he ordered? He had every chance to save his son last night. My heart ached with a suffocating pain. I leaned down, gently kissing my son’s forehead, my ghostly tears falling onto his cheeks. Leo seemed to feel them. A faint, barely audible murmur slipped from his lips. “Mommy… isn’t cold…” Hearing those words, Julian looked like he had been struck by lightning. He stumbled backward, barely managing to keep his balance. He grabbed the lead doctor by the collar, roaring in his face: “You’re a doctor, aren’t you?! Isn’t your job to save lives?!” “How could a massive hospital like this just stand by and watch a patient die in the hallway?! Do you even deserve to wear that coat?!” The doctor went pale. He opened his mouth, stammering in sheer terror: “M-Mr. Sterling… yesterday, you were the one who ordered us not to treat Ms. Foster.” “You said… you said Ms. Vance needed us more, so you transferred the entire surgical staff to her wing…” Julian froze. The memories came flooding back. Because I had refused to consent to giving Evelyn my heart, he had flown into a rage and ordered his bodyguards to drag me to the hospital by force. Before they pushed me into the operating room, I was strapped down to the bed. I had screamed in terror: “Julian! You have no legal right to harvest my organs! This is murder!” “Evelyn isn’t even sick! She’s lying to you!” He thought I was just making excuses. So, right in front of me, he gave the hospital director his final orders. “After the surgery, no one is allowed to check on her without my permission.” “I want to see if losing a heart is really enough to kill her!” Julian squeezed his eyes shut in pure agony. He looked at the dried blood caked around Leo’s mouth. Then, the image of my freezing, lifeless body lying on that hallway cot flashed before his eyes. A tidal wave of panic and catastrophic regret swallowed him whole. “I… I didn’t want her to die…” “I just… I just wanted to teach her a lesson. I just wanted her to behave…” “Right. I just wanted her to be obedient. It’s not my fault… It’s not my fault…” Julian collapsed onto the floor, clutching his head in absolute torment. What a phenomenal actor. Standing right beside him, that was the only thought in my mind. Why do men always facilitate a tragedy, watch it unfold, and then look at the horrific aftermath and say: “It wasn’t my fault.” Was it my fault? My fault for meeting him. My fault for believing he would give me a happy life. My fault for bringing such a sweet, perfect boy into this world with him. An ocean of regret threatened to drown my soul. I hated him so much. The doctors finished their initial assessment. Seeing the horrific, jagged lacerations and deep bruising covering Leo’s face, they immediately ordered him transferred to the ICU. Outside the ICU. Julian stood behind the glass window, staring at the child inside, whose life was currently entirely dependent on ventilators and monitors. He looked like he had aged ten years in a single day. My soul was inside the ICU, hovering right next to my son’s pillow. The swelling on Leo’s face had gone down slightly, and the nurses had carefully cleaned the dried blood from his mouth. But that only made the brutal injuries stand out even more. Especially the distinct handprints on his cheeks. Whoever hit him had used maximum force. Julian stared blankly at his son, his hands clenched so tightly his knuckles were white. “Julian?” Evelyn’s voice, trembling with apprehension, called out from behind him. She had received the news from the hospital staff that morning. They told her a woman’s body had been found in the hallway, with a six-year-old boy lying on top of her. When Evelyn heard the news, she was doing her makeup. She had snapped her lipstick right in half. Having been by Julian’s side for years, she knew exactly how he operated. The man was pathologically toxic—he only ever valued what he couldn’t have. In the past, that was her. But now… she was starting to panic. So, before coming to find him, Evelyn carefully applied a sickly, fragile makeup look, even layering pale foundation over her lips. She didn’t stop until she looked flawlessly pitiful. Sitting in a wheelchair she had demanded from the nurses, Evelyn swallowed her anxiety and asked softly: “Julian, did you need me for something?” Julian turned around. The raw fury in his eyes faltered slightly when he saw her pale, sickly face. But then, he thought of me, and of his son lying comatose in the room behind him, and his heart turned to stone again. “Evelyn. The injuries on Leo… Did you do this?” He stared directly into her eyes, his voice dripping with dark suspicion. Evelyn’s heart leaped into her throat, but outwardly, she looked utterly shocked and devastated. When she looked through the glass and saw Leo, she immediately covered her mouth, her eyes welling with tears. “Leo… what happened to him…” She reached out and grabbed the hem of Julian’s shirt, weeping beautifully. “Poor Leo. Who could be so evil? How could anyone do this to a six-year-old child?” “Julian, you have to find whoever did this. You can’t let them get away with it.” Julian stared deeply into her eyes, his tone questioning: “Do you really mean that?” Evelyn nodded emphatically, her voice resolute. “Of course! Even though Leo and I had our issues in the past… at the end of the day, he’s just a little boy.” “Seeing him like this absolutely breaks my heart.” “Julian… do you really not believe me?” Seeing her pitiful, tear-stained face, the suspicion in Julian’s heart slowly evaporated. He looked away, turning his gaze back to his sleeping son, his eyes filling with pain. “I believe you. It’s just… with Leo in this condition, I had to ask.” “Evelyn, were your bodyguards with you last night? I want to question them about what happened.” Evelyn lowered her eyes, a victorious smirk flashing across her lips where Julian couldn’t see. Before coming down here, she had already threatened her bodyguards to keep their mouths shut. Julian wasn’t going to find out anything. Thinking about the brief flash of emotion on Julian’s face last night when the little bastard called him “Daddy,” Evelyn felt a surge of hatred. She thought to herself, I shouldn’t have held back. I should have just beaten the little rat to death last night. Then, Julian would only ever look at me. I listened to their entire exchange, my rage burning so hot I thought it would vaporize my soul. I knew Julian’s brain was practically nonexistent. A few pathetic tears, and he was completely fooled. So much for the “ruthless business tycoon.” While I was cursing him, Julian’s phone rang. He told Evelyn to go back to her room and rest, then walked away to take the call. The moment he was out of sight, Evelyn stood up from the wheelchair. She stood at the glass window, glaring at Leo’s sleeping face. A dark, twisted plan formed in her mind. “Chloe, since your son is just as annoying as you are, insisting on being a thorn in my side…” “I’m going to have to look out for myself, and get rid of him.” My heart slammed against my ribs. I hovered in front of the ICU door, trembling violently. What was she doing? Was she going to hurt my Leo again?! No! Absolutely not! My baby has suffered enough! I won’t let you! Seeing the malicious smile spreading across Evelyn’s face, I wanted nothing more than to rip her flesh from her bones. Evelyn, oblivious to the vengeful spirit screaming at her, smoothly made an excuse to send the attending nurse out of the room. Then, she quietly pushed the door open. Phasing right through my transparent body, she walked slowly toward Leo’s bed. Standing over him, she smirked. Her perfectly manicured acrylic nails traced his forehead, his eyes, his split lips. Finally, her hand came to rest on his fragile neck. “If Chloe knew what a pathetic state you were in right now, do you think she’d hate me?” Evelyn laughed out loud, her eyes shining with pure malice. “It’s a shame your mother was so weak. All I did was have the surgeons take her heart out and put it right back in, and her body just couldn’t handle the shock.” “I guess she was always destined to die young.” I gasped in pure shock, ice-cold dread flooding my entire being. What did she mean? My heart wasn’t transplanted into Evelyn?! Did that mean…

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In the second year of my arranged marriage with Arthur Vance, my first love suddenly returned from abroad. My usually aloof and arrogant husband handed me a divorce agreement. I froze for a few seconds: “What is the meaning of this?” His voice trembled slightly. “Your old flame is back. I’m stepping aside.” Me: “—Huh??” 1 By the time the business dinner ended and I got home, it was nearly eleven o’clock. I kicked off my high heels, rubbing my aching neck as I walked inside, only to find my husband blocking my path. Arthur stared at me with a cold, stern expression. “You’ve been drinking?” “Just a little.” He let out a cold scoff. “You normally never drink. What, are you just that happy to see your old lover?” My alcohol-fogged brain was a bit slow. It took me a moment to realize he was being passive-aggressive. I looked up and met his eyes seriously. “Just spit it out. I’m very tired today.” His gaze lingered on my face before suddenly locking onto a specific spot. His eyes turned ice-cold. “Why is your neck red?” I instinctively reached up to scratch it. “Probably a bug bite?” He mocked lightly, “And is that bug’s name Caleb?” Caleb was my ex-boyfriend’s name. It suddenly clicked why Arthur was acting so bizarre tonight. Just as I was about to speak, his tightly clenched right hand extended forward, holding a document. “Sign it.” I looked down and read the bold words at the top of the page—Divorce Agreement. Without exaggeration, that sobered me up instantly! I looked at him in disbelief. “Why do you suddenly want a divorce?” “Isn’t this what you want?” he said. “Caleb just returned to the country, and you couldn’t wait to run off and drink with him, coming home covered in…” His gaze dropped to my neck again, and he fell silent. “I wasn’t drinking with Caleb tonight,” I argued. “I went to discuss a partnership with the CEO of Apex Industries. I already told you about that project.” “But you drank with Caleb,” he fixated on that single point. “Yes, Caleb was there, but I didn’t know that before I arrived,” I explained. “He’s good friends with Mr. Carter. They were toasting each other; it’s not like I could just kick him out, could I?” I kept the more absurd thoughts to myself. What right did I have to kick Caleb out? I had absolutely nothing to do with him anymore. Arthur remained silent for a moment. “Forget the partnership with Apex. The profit margins aren’t that high anyway. I’ll give you better projects.” A pie falling from the sky—naturally, I was thrilled. But I couldn’t wrap my head around one thing: “Why do you care so much about Caleb?” Arthur and I were in a contractual business marriage. We had been married for a year, yet we were still basically strangers. Our daily conversations revolved entirely around eating and sleeping, with occasional discussions about each other’s work. Nothing more. This robotic routine even extended into the bedroom. He and I would intimately tangle the sheets every Friday night. Exactly three times, no more, no less. In our entire year of marriage, there hadn’t been a single exception. I once complained about this to my best friend, Chloe. After her initial shock wore off, she sighed, “Well, I guess that’s Arthur Vance for you.” Arthur was a legend in our social circle. Almost everyone had heard their elders praise him, and most of our peers lived in his shadow. Excelling in one field is normal, but excelling in everything like he did was incredibly rare. On top of that, he was highly disciplined and emotionally stable to a frightening degree. You couldn’t help but respect him. I used to respect him, too. Until I married him. How did this absolute cyborg become my husband? The “golden boy” archetype is definitely only meant to be admired from afar. Actually living with him truly tests your psychological endurance. My cyborg husband finally spoke: “Why shouldn’t I care?” I clarified, “I did date him for a while, but we broke up years ago. I’m your wife now. There is… absolutely nothing between him and me.” “I hope you keep your word.” “What?” “I have never allowed any flaws to exist in my life, and that includes my marriage,” he said. “I don’t want my marriage to end because of your infidelity.” “…” So that’s what he was afraid of. I promised him sincerely, “It won’t.” Having received a satisfactory answer, Arthur turned and walked into the bedroom. 2 By the time I finished washing up, it was almost midnight. I was lying in bed, drowsy, when I suddenly heard him ask from the other side, “What do you want for breakfast tomorrow?” “What are my options?” “Crab roe wontons, beef potstickers, or strawberry pancakes.” “Potstickers,” I said. “I want them a little crispier this time.” “Mhm.” Maybe it was because I hadn’t eaten much at the business dinner, but just thinking about Arthur’s beef potstickers made my stomach rumble. The super-cyborg Arthur was also incredibly skilled in the culinary arts. I considered myself a foodie who had eaten at plenty of high-end places, but Arthur’s cooking always managed to give me pleasant surprises. The first time I ate his crab roe wontons, they were so savory I almost swallowed my own tongue. I swallowed hard and asked, “Are the dumplings already prepped?” “Yes, I wrapped them tonight,” he said. “While you were out drinking with Caleb.” “…” I turned my head suspiciously to look at him. For some inexplicable reason, Arthur talking about Caleb didn’t seem very robotic at all… If I didn’t know him better, I would almost think he was jealous. Jealous over me. But how could that be possible? The cyborg asked, “Is something wrong?” “Nothing.” I pushed the messy thoughts out of my head. But thanks to his interruption, I didn’t dare mention that I wanted to eat the beef potstickers right now. I was genuinely afraid he’d pop off with another comment like: Didn’t Caleb feed you any potstickers while you were drinking with him? 3 I woke up late the next morning. Arthur’s beef potstickers were already packed neatly in a thermal lunchbox. He shoved a freshly bottled date-sweetened soy milk into my hand and casually said goodbye. Watching his retreating back, I suddenly felt that even though his personality was robotic, he genuinely took great care of me. I ate my breakfast in my office. Just as I was about to start working, my best friend Chloe texted me. Chloe: [I heard Caleb is back in the country!] I replied: [I know. I actually drank with him last night.] Chloe: [Holy shit!] Chloe: [You move fast!] Chloe: [Babe, don’t forget you’re a married woman now. If you’re going to meet up with Caleb, make sure you keep it discreet.] Me: [……] This was honestly a huge headache for me. In the years since Caleb and I broke up, I hadn’t dated anyone else. It was purely because I didn’t want to, but somehow the rumor mill spun it into me carrying a torch for him. I tried to explain, but the more I talked, the worse it sounded. Even my best friend, Chloe, thought I was just being stubborn and denying my true feelings. I called her directly. “I’ve explained this a million times. I literally feel nothing for him.” “Okay, okay.” Chloe readily agreed, then warned me again, “Just be careful not to let Arthur find out about you drinking with Caleb.” “…” “He already knows.” Chloe gasped. “Holy shit!” When it came to Caleb, I felt helpless. But when it came to Arthur’s un-robotic behavior last night, I was fully energized. I vividly described Arthur’s abnormal behavior. I heavily emphasized his psycho move of handing me a divorce agreement over the incident. “Don’t you think his perfectionism is a little too extreme?” Chloe’s perspective was entirely different from mine. “Why do I get the feeling he was trying to keep you?” “What?” “By handing you a divorce agreement, he was forcing you to stop interacting with Caleb.” “But what if I actually signed it?” “Would you?” “…” No, I wouldn’t. Leaving aside the massive entanglement of our two families’ businesses, from a purely practical standpoint, I couldn’t bear to divorce a premium catch like Arthur Vance. “The god is finally descending to the mortal realm!” I cringed at her dramatic phrasing and corrected her, “The super-cyborg is finally showing signs of human life.” “You should test him,” Chloe said excitedly. “See if his system is just glitching or if he’s actually turning into a real, breathing man.” “How do I test him?” Her voice dripped with suggestion. “Well, today is Friday. Tonight, when you two…” 4 Chloe’s method was simple, though it made me blush. I just needed to cling to Arthur and demand one more round. Since he strictly adhered to his “Friday night, exactly three times” rule, if I could coax him into a fourth round, wouldn’t that prove his robotic programming had been overridden? I hesitated, agonized over it, and ultimately decided to bide my time. Finally, I was sharing the bed with Arthur. He leaned over me, held my gaze for a few seconds, then grabbed a silk tie from the nightstand, draped it over my eyes, and tied a knot behind my head. In the past, I never asked questions, assuming it was just his little kink. But tonight, with an agenda on my mind, I asked point-blank, “Why do you blindfold me every single time?” Arthur didn’t answer. He just lowered his head and kissed me. The damp touch of his lips pulled my thoughts away. Gradually, I forgot to pursue the reason behind the blindfold. Rising and falling, I was held entirely in the palm of his hands—lifted high, set down gently. My heart squeezed and fluttered. Finally, the third round ended. Arthur pulled away the sweat-soaked silk tie from my face, and I met his calm, emotionless eyes. Even though I had seen this look countless times, I still couldn’t help but grit my teeth. Why? Why did he always look so utterly frigid and detached after doing that? He gently stroked my face in a soothing gesture and was about to pull away— Anger flared in my chest, fueling a sudden burst of reckless courage. I immediately locked my legs around his waist. Caught off guard, Arthur was dragged forward, crashing heavily against me! I took the opportunity to wrap my arms around his neck, and under his panicked gaze, I spoke in a sugary-sweet voice: “Can we go one more time?” 5 Arthur clearly hadn’t anticipated this. He froze for a few seconds. His gaze swept over my eyes, my lips, my collarbone, and finally settled… His Adam’s apple bobbed heavily, and he turned his head away, saying stiffly: “No.” “Why not?” I retorted almost instantly. I didn’t even need to ask if he could. Because from the moment he was pulled flush against me, I knew perfectly well that he could. If he could, why was he saying no? He refused to look at me. “Too much… is bad for your health.” That was an answer I never expected. While from a strictly scientific standpoint, his approach was correct, adhering to science in absolutely everything was just too boring. I clung to him, refusing to let him leave. “But what if I want to?” Arthur turned his head back, looking at me with a conflicted expression. In that fleeting moment, I could actually see the intense struggle in his eyes. After struggling for a long time, he said firmly, “No.” He reached out and traced the line of my brow, whispering softly, “Bear with it…” I didn’t want to bear with it. I pulled his head down and captured his lips with precision. I wanted to see if this highly disciplined cyborg could actually lose control. 6 The facts proved that one should not have too much curiosity about a cyborg. An out-of-control Arthur was truly terrifying. It turns out that super-cyborgs also have top-tier battery life. He didn’t stop tossing me around until the sky outside began to turn gray, and only under his soothing touches did I finally close my eyes and fall asleep. Before falling asleep, I vaguely remembered a pair of eyes overflowing with tenderness. I wanted to see them again the next morning, but he had already reverted to his cyborg mode. “Something urgent came up at the company, I have to head over. You…” He paused, a rare occurrence. “Breakfast is ready. Remember to eat when you get up.” “Okay,” I murmured softly, clutching the blanket. Normally, at this point, he would turn and leave without hesitation. But today, he didn’t. I waited quietly for him to finish. He hesitated for a long time. “Does your… does your body feel uncomfortable anywhere?” Influenced by his bashful attitude, my cheeks began to burn. Naturally, it wasn’t as comfortable as stopping at exactly three times, but it wasn’t unbearable either. I looked at Arthur standing before me and felt that the aura of a living, breathing human around him was growing stronger. “You never used to ask before.” “Before…” His voice dropped lower. “I could feel that you were satisfied.” “…” I didn’t want to ask anymore. If I dug any deeper, it would get too taboo for a morning conversation. I simply said, “I’m fine. Go to work.” Only then did he leave. I huddled back under the covers and grabbed my phone, seeing a string of unread messages from Chloe. [How did the test go?] [Why aren’t you answering?] [Are you seriously still asleep?] [Girl, it’s almost noon… Holy shit, was it a war zone last night?] [1:00 PM.] [OK, it’s almost 2:00 PM. Say no more, I understand everything.] Helplessly, I typed back: [I’m awake.] She replied instantly: [Oho~] Even from a single word, I could sense her teasing tone. I couldn’t resist firing back: [Stop giving me terrible advice from now on!] Chloe called me directly. “Did our great God Vance break his vow last night?” I scoffed. “I’m too tired to talk to you.” “Say no more,” Chloe teased. “I can tell just by your voice. It definitely wasn’t just one extra round last night.” “…” She was curious. “Is the super-cyborg finally transforming into a real human?” To be honest, I was a bit curious too. Arthur was exceptional in every way and emotionally stable, which was undeniably a good thing. But most of the time, he didn’t feel like a real person; he felt like a perfect machine manufactured by the Vance family. I wanted to see him break through that disguise. I wanted to see what he looked like when he dropped his defenses. We had been married for a year, and he remained as aloof and proud as ever. I thought I’d never see it in this lifetime, but last night, he lost control again… Did this mean… I still had a chance? So, when he came home from work, I intentionally walked up to him and said something I normally never would: “Did work go smoothly today?” He paused for a moment. “Smoothly.” “The projects I promised you—I’ve already had my assistant email them to you. Pick whichever ones you like,” he added, as if assuming my sudden attentiveness was purely for profit. I was about to explain, but then I watched him toss his suit jacket onto the sofa, unfasten his cufflinks, roll his shirt sleeves up to his elbows, and stroll confidently into the kitchen. After tying his apron, he poked his head out. “What do you want for dinner tonight?” “…” I gave up on testing him. Yep, definitely still my cyborg husband. 7 Arthur methodically took care of my three meals a day. He woke up at the exact same time every morning and went to sleep at the exact same time every night. His routine was more robotic than a literal machine, making me wonder if his out-of-control moment last Friday was entirely my imagination. Just as I was about to abandon my quest to uncover the cyborg’s true face, Caleb contacted me. “Why did you suddenly cancel the partnership with Mark Carter?” “It wasn’t canceled,” I said. “That project was just too difficult, so I swapped it for another one.” “Is it because of me?” Caleb asked. “Because I mentioned buying shares that night, you dropped it. You don’t want any excessive entanglement with me, do you?” I let out an absurd laugh. “You don’t hold that much weight with me.” “Does Professor Davis?” “What?” “We’re having a college reunion tonight, and Professor Davis will be there. She said she really wants to see you.” I hesitated. Rationally speaking, I shouldn’t attend any gathering where Caleb was present. But Professor Davis was a mentor who had taken great care of me. If she wanted to see me and I refused, I’d look like an ungrateful brat. While I was torn, Caleb added, “If you’re hesitating because of me, I can leave.” If he left specifically because of me, it would only make things look worse, as if I truly was still hung up on him. I quickly said, “You don’t have to leave. I’ll go.” Caleb sent me the address. Just as I was about to start the GPS, my cyborg husband called. “I’m heading to the supermarket. Anything you’re craving?” I hesitated. “I won’t be home for dinner tonight.” “A business dinner?” “Yes,” my voice grew a little quieter. Arthur was silent for two seconds. “Will you need me to pick you up afterward?” “No, no!” I said hurriedly. “I’ll be back by nine at the latest. You don’t need to pick me up.” “Understood,” his voice instantly dropped several degrees. I wanted to explain further, but he had already hung up. Carrying an uneasy feeling in my chest, I arrived at the address Caleb had given me. A waiter guided me to the private dining room. “This is it.” I nodded and finished typing the last word of a text message. It was to Arthur: [The business dinner got canceled. But I have to work late at the office for a bit. I should be home around 7. Remember to save some food for me.] The message showed as sent. I figured I’d go in, chat with Professor Davis for a bit, and then invent an excuse to slip away early. A room with Caleb in it wasn’t a place to linger. Thinking this, I pushed the door open— The room was completely quiet. There was no professor, no former classmates. There was only my husband, Arthur Vance, with a face as dark as iron. He looked up, a freezing smile on his lips: “Caleb said I could wait for you here. It turns out he was absolutely right.”

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While scrolling through my phone on a long bus ride, I stumbled across a post that caught my eye. The poster wrote about how hard her life was growing up. Now, seeing her newborn daughter surrounded by the love of her parents and the doting affection of her grandparents, she felt a twinge of jealousy. She asked the internet for advice on how to adjust her mindset. Many people offered kind suggestions, saying it was likely postpartum depression and recommending she talk to her husband or take a vacation after her recovery. Amidst the well-meaning advice, one highly upvoted comment stood out like a sore thumb: [Just make your daughter live the exact same life you did.] [Otherwise, it’s not fair. You suffered so much, and she gets a better life without lifting a finger.] People in the replies were tearing her apart for the toxic advice. But the commenter doubled down: [That’s exactly what I did. I never got to wear new clothes when I was a kid, so I forbid my daughter from wearing new clothes.] [I never had enough to eat, so I trick my daughter into thinking we’re poor. I make her eat less to ‘save food.’] [After I started doing that, I instantly felt balanced.] The comments section was completely horrified. But I felt a sudden, bone-chilling cold spread through my body. Because the profile picture of the person leaving those comments was identical to my mother’s.

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Because my boyfriend had a very high sex drive, we always had to try new things every time we made love. To make up for this, he coaxed me more than once, saying: “Once you graduate, we’ll get married.” I believed him. So, I worked my fingers to the bone, piling on credits to graduate early. At the same time, I secretly watched all kinds of adult content at night, studying new techniques, just to keep him physically satisfied. Until one day, I missed my dorm curfew because I was studying too late, so I ran to a bar to find him. By chance, I overheard him chatting with his friends. “Leo, is your girlfriend really that wild in bed?” “Of course she is. I trained her myself.” “What about Mia then?” Leo blew out a puff of smoke, his eyes turning soft and tender. “She’s different. She’s pure.” In that moment, the seed of hatred was planted. Returning to campus, I immediately called my professor. “That classified project you mentioned… I want to apply.” From this day forward, my life would be dedicated solely to my country. “Professor, that Project Spark you mentioned before… I’d like to join.” The professor paused, clearly surprised: “Are you sure? Once you join Project Spark, it will be at least five years before you can contact anyone on the outside.” “Didn’t you just turn me down last time, saying you were going to marry your boyfriend after graduation?” I stood in front of the mirror, trailing my fingers over the dense constellation of hickeys and bite marks covering my body. I smiled, a bleak and desolate expression. “I’m not getting married anymore. From now on, I only want to serve my country.” Seeing my firm resolve, the professor didn’t try to dissuade me. He simply reminded me: “The transport to the base leaves in three days. Take this time to say a proper goodbye to your boyfriend.” “After all, you two are engaged.” I hummed a soft agreement, looking down at the ring on my finger, my eyes slightly red. Yes, we were engaged. As I spaced out, my phone buzzed. It was a message from Leo. [Why haven’t you replied? Come out and keep me company.] The address he sent was the exact same bar from earlier. Without rushing to reply, I opened my laptop and reviewed my application form one last time. After confirming everything was perfect, I headed out to meet him. “What took you so long?” Leo was leaning lazily against the sofa, clearly displeased by my tardiness. “I couldn’t get a cab right away. Had to wait a bit.” I threw out a random excuse and moved to sit beside him, but his hand suddenly gripped my waist. His voice was teasing: “Get up. That’s not your seat.” Leo’s words acted like a switch, causing everyone in the room to burst into laughter. “Yeah, Sister-in-law, that’s not your seat,” Leo’s childhood friend chimed in, a playful smirk on his face. “How could you just sit on the sofa? Obviously, you’re supposed to sit on Leo’s lap.” The others joined in, their teasing laced with innuendo: “Yeah, exactly. Look, Sister-in-law, all our dates are sitting on our laps.” I looked around, and it was true. Almost all the men present had a scantily clad woman perched on their laps. Noticing my gaze, the men’s actions grew even bolder. The sound of heavy, uneven breathing filled the room. Leo’s childhood friend, while fondling the warm body in his arms, shot me a suggestive look: “Don’t just stand there watching, Sister-in-law. Take good care of our guy Leo.” I didn’t say a word, but my heart sank to the absolute bottom. I recognized those women. They were famous escorts at this bar, and I… I was Leo’s fiancée. Or at least, in name. I touched the engagement ring on my finger and turned my gaze to Leo, who hadn’t said a word. I was waiting for him to speak up. Leo didn’t look at me. He stared intently at his glass, acting as if he completely missed the mockery in their words. It wasn’t until the private room grew completely quiet that he reluctantly reached out a hand, offering a half-hearted comfort: “They’re just joking around. Don’t take it seriously.” Seeing that I still remained silent, he finally put on a show of caring, tossing a few weak reprimands at the others before pulling me down to sit. “Alright, don’t be mad. I’ll warn them next time.” The atmosphere in the room began to heat up again. I leaned against Leo’s chest, my mind racing with thoughts on how to break up with him. Suddenly, the door to the private room was pushed open. Mia walked in, dressed in a pristine white dress. “Leo?” Almost instantly, all the men shoved the women off their laps and scrambled to adjust their clothes. Including Leo. He pushed me aside, stood up, and walked over to Mia. He covered her eyes, his voice incredibly gentle: “Be a good girl, Mia. Give us a second to clean up.” Then he glared at the others, his eyes flashing with a warning: “Hurry up and get these women out of here! Don’t dirty Mia’s eyes.” The men scrambled—opening windows, shooing the escorts out. Someone even thoughtfully switched on the bright white overhead lights, illuminating the entire room. But it couldn’t illuminate the gloom settling over my heart. So, this is what it looks like when Leo genuinely cares about someone. This is what it looks like. I suddenly lost all desire to stay. I stood up and started walking toward the door. My movement startled the others, and someone quickly reminded Leo. “Leo, Sister-in-law is still here.” Leo frowned, blurting out instinctively: “So what if she is? It’s not like…” He seemed to catch himself, silently removing his hand from Mia’s eyes. He offered a flimsy excuse: “Mia is still young. She hasn’t been exposed to this kind of stuff. She’s not like you.” I smiled, though a trace of profound sorrow flashed through my eyes. He forgot that Mia was actually a year older than me. But because I had no place in his heart, he didn’t care about my feelings. I walked past them, ready to leave. But Mia suddenly blocked my path, her voice timid and delicate: “Sister-in-law, please don’t be mad. I actually came here to return something.” As she spoke, she opened a ring box, revealing the massive diamond inside. “Last time I saw the ring on your finger, I was so envious. I just casually mentioned I wanted one too.” “I never expected…” Mia cast a shy glance at Leo, her voice rising slightly, like a hook pulling at his attention. “I never expected Leo to actually remember. Just to make me happy, he gave me such an expensive diamond ring.” “I heard it’s the kind where you can only custom-order one in a lifetime. I felt too guilty to accept it, so I specifically came to give it back to you, Sister-in-law.” She said she was giving it back, but her grip on the box never loosened for a second. Looking down at the plain silver band on my own finger, I suddenly felt incredibly foolish. Two years of a relationship. Seven hundred and thirty days of companionship. Leo dismissed me with a plain silver ring that cost less than thirty bucks. Whether in bed or out of it, I had completely undervalued myself. I took two steps back. For the first time, I didn’t try to save face for Leo. I simply pushed the door open and left. The private room erupted in gasps. Someone scoffed, speaking loudly: “Who the hell does she think she is, throwing an attitude at Leo?” “Shut up!” Leo glared at the guy, his face dark as a storm cloud. It was already 3 AM by the time I left the bar. The streets were practically deserted. Only the occasional, restless cold wind blew past, sweeping me into memories. I met Leo two years ago during a part-time job. He said he had never met anyone as pure as me and wanted to have a relationship that would never end. I thought it was a joke and rejected him time and time again. Until New Year’s Eve that year, when my stepfather secretly picked the lock on my bedroom door. Terrified, I dialed Leo’s number. On that snowy night, he pulled me out of hell and promised to give me a home. I desperately wanted a home. During our two years together, he coaxed me into exploring every sexual boundary and promised me countless times that we would get married. But we had been engaged for six months, and only now did I realize the truth. Aside from this incredibly basic silver ring on my finger, I had never even met Leo’s family. Screw the engagement. Screw love. Screw… me. Tears blurred my vision. I pulled the engagement ring off and threw it into a trash can. Leo, I don’t want to marry you anymore. Two days left before I joined the classified project. The next morning, I woke up early to pack my bags. Leo, who hadn’t come home all night, walked in. He looked stunned for a moment, then immediately grabbed my hand. “Where are you going?” I didn’t look up, offering a simple explanation. “Finals are coming up. I’m moving back to the dorms.” Leo’s expression softened. He expertly wrapped his arms around my waist from behind, his tone suggestive: “For how many days? You know I can’t survive without you.” I used to enjoy this kind of sweet talk between lovers. Now, for some reason, it made me nauseous enough to throw up. I pulled out of his embrace and continued packing. With a casual glance, Leo noticed my bare finger. His eyes instantly turned cold. “Where’s your ring? Where did it go? Why aren’t you wearing it?” The rapid-fire questions caught me off guard. “It got dirty, so I took it off for now.” I don’t know if it was just my imagination, but Leo seemed to let out a sigh of relief. He smiled and casually promised: “If it’s dirty, just throw it away. It wasn’t worth much anyway. I’ll buy you a better one tomorrow.” Right, it wasn’t worth much anyway. Two years ago, when Leo proposed to me, it was in a hotel room. After a passionate session, I asked him with red eyes: “Leo, will you marry me?” Leo froze for two seconds, then pulled a completely unadorned silver ring from his pocket and slid it onto my finger. No flowers, no applause, and definitely no getting down on one knee. But I was foolish enough to believe he would bring me happiness. Thinking back on it now, my naivety is almost laughable. I zipped up my suitcase and went to the bathroom to wash my hands. My phone suddenly buzzed with a tag notification. A proposal video had been uploaded to Mia’s social media. In the shaky footage, Leo knelt on one knee amidst the cheers of the crowd, carefully sliding a diamond ring onto her finger. Under the lights, the massive diamond sparkled blindingly. It pierced my eyes. When I backed out and tried to click the video again, it was gone. All that was left was an apology message from Mia. “Sister-in-law, please don’t be mad. We were just messing around last night.” “I don’t know how I accidentally tagged you. We had originally agreed not to tell you.” “Sister-in-law, you aren’t angry, are you?” Mia’s provocative messages came one after another. Outside the bathroom door, Leo was knocking. “Chloe, what kind of ring do you like? I’ll take you to pick one out tomorrow, okay?” The massive dissonance felt like an invisible blade, repeatedly stabbing my already shredded heart. I sniffled and replied to Leo in a clear voice. “Okay.” That night, I don’t know what possessed Leo, but he insisted on dragging me to a corporate cocktail party. In our two years together, this was the first time he was willing to be seen with me at a public event. The party was going smoothly, and Leo was in a great mood. Until Mia barged in like a frightened little bunny and knocked a glass of red wine out of a wealthy businessman’s hand. The red wine splashed all over the man, and his face turned dark as a thundercloud. “What’s your problem? Watch where you’re going!” Mia’s eyes instantly welled up with tears. She looked at Leo pitifully, unable to speak a single word. Leo frowned and pulled Mia behind him, his tone stiff: “She’s just a young girl. Don’t make a big deal out of it, Mr. Chen.” His dry, unapologetic words made the businessman’s expression even darker. He pointed at Mia cowering behind Leo and sneered: “Fine. Have her pour me a drink and apologize, and I’ll let it go.” Mia tugged at Leo’s clothes like she was begging for her life, still refusing to speak. Leo patted her hand comfortingly, then suddenly turned his gaze to me. “Chloe, you pour Mr. Chen a drink and apologize on Mia’s behalf.” I froze for a moment, then immediately refused: “Why should I?” Leo frowned, looking at me like I was being completely unreasonable. “Mia is still young. She’s never had to deal with this kind of thing.” “You’re different. You’re used to it.” The surrounding area instantly fell silent. The guests looked at each other, their eyes gleaming with the anticipation of a good show. It wasn’t long before someone couldn’t hold back and winked at Leo. “I couldn’t tell. She’s so young, yet so experienced. Mr. Sterling is a lucky man.” “Yeah, absolutely. Mr. Sterling sure knows how to train them. Even the girl by his side is so ‘capable’.” “We all need to take notes from Mr. Sterling.” The malicious, suggestive comments drained the color from my face. Leo’s eyes sharpened, and just as he was about to speak, Mia dramatically fainted, as if she had been terrified out of her wits. Leo instantly panicked, scooping Mia up and rushing toward the exit. Leaving me alone to face the increasingly brazen and leering stares of the crowd. In the end, it was that wealthy businessman who stepped forward and escorted me out. When we parted ways, he draped his own jacket over my shoulders and said to me: “Little girl, you’re still young.” That one sentence shattered all my fabricated pride. When I got home, I stood in front of the closet for a long time. There was a lot of stuff inside, almost all of it gifts from Leo. I took them out one by one and laid them on the bed. A red lace slip dress—his gift for our 100-day anniversary. Black thigh-high garters—his gift for our one-year anniversary. Nude, pointed-toe stilettos—his gift for my 20th birthday. … Every single gift was custom-tailored by Leo for me. Every single item objectified me, reducing me to a tool to satisfy his desires. But I only just realized that this wasn’t love. My phone screen suddenly lit up. It was a message from Leo. [Mia is fine now. I’m coming back to pick you up.] [I bought you a new ring. I’ll give it to you when I get back.] [About tonight… I’m sorry.] A call suddenly came through. It was Professor Liu. “Chloe, there’s a change of plans. We need to leave a day early.” “The car to pick you up is already downstairs. Hurry up and pack your bags.” “Okay.” I wiped away my tears, grabbed my luggage, and left the place that had trapped me. Before boarding the plane, I sent Leo one final message. “Leo, I don’t love you anymore.” The next second, the long-silent chat log began to vibrate frantically. When Leo received my text, he was still at the hospital taking care of Mia, who was faking her fainting spell. During our time together, we rarely fought. Most of the time, he would be the one angry, and I would be the one groveling—whether with words or with my body. Even when we did argue, we rarely said anything harsh, let alone bring up breaking up. Leo, though shocked, assumed I was just angry that he had abandoned me at the party and left me with that businessman. He figured he just needed to buy me a gift and coax me a little once this was all over. I was always easy to coax; he had always done it this way. But when he realized my phone was completely unreachable, no matter how many times he called… He finally realized this time might be different. Panic set in. After learning that Mia was perfectly fine, Leo prepared to leave. As he was walking out, the woman grabbed his hand, begging him to stay: “Leo, stay with me, please? I’m scared to be alone.” Leo used to be completely powerless against her fragile act; as long as she asked, he would always agree. But today, for some unknown reason, he suddenly lost all patience with Mia. Even her delicate, gentle demeanor grated on his nerves. “I have things to do. Rest up.” With that, he turned and rushed back to the cocktail party. Mia watched his retreating back, her expression shifting from pitiful to incredibly venomous. She lowered her head, plotting who-knows-what. Leo drove back to the party. After searching the entire venue to no avail, he finally confirmed that I was truly gone. The party was full of all sorts of people. Worried I might be in danger, Leo frantically asked everyone if they had seen where I went. Memories from before we dated suddenly flooded his mind. He remembered my bloodshot eyes as I hid in a corner after being abused by my stepfather. A wave of crushing regret washed over him. Why did I choose another woman when she needed me the most?! Damn it! Leo’s frantic search caused a huge scene. Finally, someone who knew what had happened stepped forward to tell him the truth. I had been taken away by the wealthy businessman from earlier. Leo’s attitude toward me at the party had been terrible, his words full of cheap, degrading implications. Everyone there viewed me as nothing more than his plaything, and their speculations about my identity only grew more vulgar. After answering Leo, they began whispering amongst themselves, guessing where the businessman had taken me and what he was doing to me. When Leo gave all his gentleness and concern to Mia, he never anticipated the disaster his careless words would bring down upon me. Or perhaps he did anticipate it, but just didn’t care. His words: “Mia is still young… You’re used to it.” Were tantamount to shoving me off a cliff, making everyone believe I was a loose, cheap woman—an object that could be traded for money and lust at any moment. And with every possibility those people whispered, accompanied by sleazy chuckles… Leo finally exploded in rage. He seemed to believe their theories. After all, in his eyes, I was exactly that kind of shameless slut. Mia was the gentle, pure beauty. If I was willing to throw away my dignity to blindly please him, to endure insults from others and humiliation from him… Then I would surely please someone else just as eagerly. I would please that businessman. He pulled out his phone to call me, but I was already on a plane with my phone turned off. Unable to reach me only cemented my “illicit affair” with the businessman in his mind. He started sending me texts, using every degrading, insulting word he could think of: “Where did you go?” “Do you know I’m looking for you?” “Did you run off with someone richer? Or are you in some old man’s bed right now?” “Does he know your body as well as I do?” …

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When my daughter was just a month old, my husband Arthur Vance’s enemies kidnapped her and demanded a hundred million dollar ransom. Arthur claimed the business was struggling and he couldn’t come up with the money. Yet, he turned around and won a two-hundred-million-dollar necklace at an auction, presenting it to his “first love,” Chloe. As I was consumed by absolute despair, Arthur’s biggest rival, Ethan Sterling, found me, checkbook in hand. He told me that if I divorced Arthur and chose him, he would pay the ransom. Without a second thought, I signed the papers. Ethan, wanting to be absolutely certain, even personally led a team of mercenaries to rescue my daughter. I firmly believed he was my ultimate salvation, my safe harbor for life. But when my daughter turned five, I saw him coaxing her to call Chloe “Mommy.” “Ethan, you’ve suffered so much for me and my daughter. Otherwise, you wouldn’t have had to marry damaged goods like Maya, let alone get blood on your hands.” “Chloe, as long as you’re happy married into the Vance family, I’m happy. But you must keep this a secret. If Maya finds out her real daughter died long ago, she’ll go insane.” It turned out the man I thought was my savior was actually the mastermind who caused my daughter’s death. Watching Ethan, Chloe, and the little girl acting so intimately, like a perfect family… I didn’t hesitate for a second. I dialed the kidnapper’s number: “I have a three-hundred-million-dollar job. You interested?” 1 At the amusement park, Ethan watched our daughter, Lily, and Chloe with eyes full of utter devotion. He was so engrossed that he didn’t even notice me standing a short distance behind him. Just then, his secretary walked up to him. “Mr. Sterling, tomorrow is the anniversary of your wife’s daughter’s passing. Will you be going personally?” Ethan pulled his gaze away. “Yes. Even though it was an accident, I’m still the reason Maya’s daughter died. But thankfully, it all worked out and Chloe successfully married Arthur.” The secretary looked at Chloe, who was laughing and showing off in the distance, and sighed. “Ms. Chloe only has Arthur Vance in her heart. Even Miss Lily belongs to her and Mr. Vance. Why do you make such huge sacrifices for her?” “If the truth comes out, forget about you; the entire Sterling family will be ruined.” Ethan spoke with absolute certainty: “It won’t come out. Maya didn’t even recognize that the baby wasn’t hers back then. She’s raised her for five years now; why would she start suspecting anything?” The secretary was silent for a moment before speaking again: “But the Madam… she’s truly very good to you. It’s not fair to deceive her like this.” Ethan let out a self-deprecating laugh. “When it comes to love, where is the fairness? It’s not like I begged her to love me.” “If she really finds out and throws a fit, I’ll just give her another child.” I instantly felt like I had been plunged into an ice cavern. But over in the distance, Lily suddenly turned around and shouted loudly at me. “Mommy! Come play with us!” Everyone turned to look in my direction. Unable to dodge in time, I tripped and fell backward into a decorative fountain. Luckily, the pool was deep enough to hide me from their view. The water was freezing, biting into my bones, but I didn’t dare surface. Chloe’s mood was ruined. She threw her cotton candy on the ground: “What are you yelling for?! Don’t you see your real mom is right here?!” Startled, Lily started crying and ran away. “You’re a bad lady! You’re not my mommy!” Ethan, who usually doted on his daughter, looked stern. “Lily, apologize to your mother right now.” Lily cried even harder. My heart ached sharply, and my instinct was to run over and hold my daughter. But Ethan’s words from moments ago churned violently in my mind. That wasn’t my daughter. My daughter was murdered by Ethan a long time ago. They couldn’t even find her remains. She was only a month old! For Chloe’s sake, Ethan was actually cruel enough to hand her over to violent thugs. And his whole act of personally going with mercenaries to rescue her? Just a charade. A trick to ensure I wouldn’t realize he had swapped the babies. Yet I had seen him as my salvation, naively raising someone else’s daughter for him. No wonder Ethan’s secretary always looked at me with such pity. A fool like me must be a rare sight indeed. Lily wouldn’t stop crying, and unable to calm her down, Ethan had no choice but to take her and leave. Only then did I pathetically drag myself out of the fountain. The biting winter wind whipped against me, but I couldn’t feel the cold. I stumbled back to the villa. Seeing me completely soaked, Ethan rushed forward and wrapped me in a tight embrace. He yelled for the maids while using his own body heat to warm me. “Maya, how did you get like this?!” I said softly, “I went to the amusement park to find you and Lily, but I accidentally fell into a fountain.” His body stiffened. It took him a long time to mask the panic on his face. “Didn’t I tell you not to go? You look after Lily every day; you finally had a day to rest.” For the past five years, Ethan had taken one day a week to take Lily out by himself, telling me to rest. Seeing him treat Lily as his own flesh and blood had always filled my heart with sweetness. I never imagined that he was actually taking Lily out to bond with Chloe. My five years… were nothing but a lie. 2 “Maya, when you were at the amusement park… did you see anything?” I snapped out of my daze. Seeing Ethan cautiously probing, I lowered my eyes. “If I had seen you guys, I wouldn’t have ended up in this pathetic state.” Ethan finally breathed a sigh of relief. He tucked the blanket tighter around me, then took a bowl of ginger soup and personally fed it to me. His meticulous, encompassing care even drew envious glances from the surrounding maids. But the chill in my heart didn’t lessen. Ethan’s acting was truly spectacular. All these years, I hadn’t noticed a single flaw. After getting me cleaned up, Ethan carried me upstairs. Lily popped out, holding a wooden box in her hands. “Daddy, is this a love letter you wrote to Mommy?” I instinctively reached out to take it. But Ethan aggressively slapped my hand away and clutched the box tightly to his chest. Looking at my red, swollen hand, Lily burst into loud sobs. She raised her little fists and tried to hit Ethan. “You hit Mommy! You’re a bad man!” Ethan looked awkward and carefully explained, “This is something someone asked me to keep safe for them.” Before I could speak, his phone rang. It was a specific, custom ringtone. Lily cried even harder: “It’s the bad la—” Ethan clamped his hand over Lily’s mouth and ordered the nanny to quickly take her away. Then he apologetically told me he had some urgent business and needed to go out. He locked that box inside his safe. Unfortunately for him, his password was very easy to guess. Even Lily knew it: “It’s that bad lady’s birthday.” I opened the box. Inside were photos of Chloe from childhood to adulthood. That’s when I learned that Ethan and Chloe were childhood sweethearts. Inside the safe, there were also several property transfer agreements, all naming Chloe as the recipient. A quick glance showed the total value was in the billions. The dates were all exactly one day before Ethan and I got married. And at the very bottom of the safe was an envelope. Inside was a photo of Chloe holding a tiny infant. On the back, in Ethan’s handwriting, was written: “Starting today, I’m going to be a dad!” The large exclamation point radiated excitement and joy. And the date the photo was taken was the exact same day the kidnappers took my daughter. A sharp, stabbing pain shot through my heart. I pinched my arm fiercely to stop the tears from falling. After a long time, crouching until my legs went numb, I finally calmed myself and stood up. I replied to the kidnapper’s message. The day after tomorrow. Pick me up at the docks. A single job worth three hundred million. I was certain Ethan would be willing to pay that much for Chloe. And once I reached international waters, I could completely erase all traces of my existence. Five years of history. Ethan, I’m going to use your own script to say goodbye to you. 3 Early the next morning, Ethan hurried back. His first priority wasn’t to check if I had a fever, but to rush into his study to check his safe. Watching his back, I let out a soft scoff. Didn’t you say you weren’t afraid of me finding out? Why so nervous? Suddenly, the police showed up at our door. They only left after repeatedly confirming that the overseas call I received wasn’t from a scammer. Ethan was confused. “Maya, those overseas calls monitored by the police are all from criminals. What are you doing?” Just as I was struggling to find an excuse, he hugged me comfortingly. “It’s okay. If you’re in some kind of trouble, just tell me. Those people are ruthless outlaws; they’re capable of anything.” This kind of limitless indulgence now only made me want to vomit. He clearly knew the people on the other end were psychopathic criminals, yet, for Chloe’s sake, he still unplugged the phone line and had them kidnap my daughter. I clenched my fists tightly, but my face showed the same adoration as always. “Ethan, I’m so lucky to have you.” Ethan brought medicinal oil to rub away the bruise on my hand. “I specifically went to the countryside yesterday to get this from an old herbalist.” Looking at the label clearly stating a manufacturing address in a Shanghai industrial park, I didn’t expose his lie. Yesterday, the notification for the hotel room he booked with Chloe had been sent to my phone. They hadn’t checked out until this morning. After rubbing in the oil, he brought out a dessert. “It’s from that hotel you love.” Opening it, I saw it was my favorite strawberry flavor. This hotel only prepared these specific desserts for their VIP guests. It seemed they had used the executive suite I usually booked yesterday. Originally a four-pack of mini cakes, there were only two left. It was impossible for Chloe not to notice this detail. Which meant she was deliberately trying to disgust me. She wanted to tell me that I only deserved her leftovers. Her leftover cake, her leftover man. The nausea in my stomach intensified, and I pushed the cake away. “I don’t have an appetite.” Ethan looked terrified. He immediately called the family doctor to give me a thorough checkup. Only after confirming I was fine did his deeply furrowed brow relax. “Maya, get some sleep. I’ll go make you some porridge.” As soon as he left, I threw the cake into the trash can. A short while later, there was a commotion downstairs. I stood by the window and looked down. It was a panicked-looking Chloe. She threw herself into Ethan’s arms like a frightened little rabbit. Ethan was startled at first, glancing up toward my room, but his arms didn’t let go. I don’t know what Chloe said, but Ethan’s expression turned to pure rage. The two of them quickly arrived outside my bedroom. As soon as he walked in, Ethan slapped me across the face. “What the hell were you thinking, contacting international fugitives to kidnap Chloe?!” “It’s not her fault Arthur refused to pay the ransom when your daughter was kidnapped!” “If I knew you were this kind of person, I never would have married you!” Unable to dodge in time, I was knocked to the floor. I knocked over a vase behind me, falling into a pile of shattered glass. I caught a glimpse of triumph in the tear-streaked Chloe’s eyes. I suddenly remembered that her brother worked in the police department. He must have known about the overseas call before anyone else. She had successfully married Arthur, yet she still wanted to completely monopolize Ethan. Ethan’s eyes glared with fury as he demanded I apologize to Chloe. The fake love he had shown me finally revealed its cold, ugly truth. I didn’t explain. I stood up and, right in front of Ethan, dialed that overseas number. “Hey, Sister-in-law. Why are you calling me at this hour? Is it an emergency?” The voice of Ethan’s younger cousin came through the phone. The color instantly drained from both of their faces. I hung up and asked them, “It was just an overseas call. What exactly are you two so terrified of?” “What, do these kidnappers offer assassination services too? You guys seem to know a lot about it.” Ethan looked extremely awkward. “I… I just heard the mercenaries talking about it when I went to rescue her that time.” I touched my stinging cheek. “Then demanding an apology from Ms. Chloe isn’t asking too much, is it?” But Ethan quickly stepped in front of Chloe: “Maya, Chloe was scared too. You shouldn’t be so unforgiving.” “I’ll go buy you a new bag later. Let’s just let this go.” I was covered in glass shards, blood seeping out of multiple cuts. Yet this man, who used to cry if I even scraped my knee, acted as if he couldn’t see a thing. I let out a cold laugh and was about to speak, when Chloe suddenly started crying. “Ethan, Maya must hate me for stealing Arthur, that’s why she set me up.” “It’s fine. If she just wants to vent her anger, I’ll get on my knees and kowtow to her.” “But I finally got pregnant, and I really can’t handle this kind of shock. Please, Maya, have mercy on me.” She barely bent her knees before clutching her stomach and collapsing to the side. Ethan hurriedly caught her in his arms, shot me a venomous glare, and carried her away. I don’t know how much time passed before Nanny Wang came into the room and gasped, “Madam! Why are you bleeding so much?!” I finally snapped back to reality, the pain registering belatedly. Nanny Wang rushed to call Ethan. I stopped her. “No need. He knows.” Ethan knew Chloe was lying. Yet he still defended her with reckless abandon. Just like five years ago, when he had my daughter kidnapped for her sake. Fine, then. Ethan, I will disappear soon, exactly as you wish. 4 The family doctor arrived to treat my wounds. But halfway through, he was called away by Ethan. He looked conflicted as he spoke into his phone, “Mr. Sterling, I don’t know how to handle high-risk pregnancies…” Ethan’s furious roar on the other end was so loud I could hear it. I told the doctor to go; I could handle the rest of the bandages myself. Nanny Wang helped me pull the shards out of my back. Once my wounds were treated, I noticed that all the bodyguards assigned to the house had been called away too. They even took Lily with them, leaving me alone in the house. Xiao Jiang, the head of security who usually accompanied me, repeatedly warned before leaving, “Even though no one is here, the villa’s security system is top-notch. Please, whatever you do, do not go outside.” Watching the twenty-plus bodyguards all head toward the hospital, I finally opened the text message on my phone. “Crossed the border. Still the docks?” I replied “Come to the house” and deleted the message. Back then, Ethan hired them to kidnap my daughter, but later, afraid they would leak the secret, he tried to silence them. During the ensuing firefight, an “accident” happened, leading to my daughter’s tragic death. The current leader of the Black Sea Syndicate was the illegitimate son of the previous boss. Ethan had always been hyper-vigilant, paranoid that they would return for revenge. Chloe sent me a photo from the hospital—it was Ethan carefully feeding her bird’s nest soup. The hallway outside her room was lined with bodyguards. She sent another message: “How does it feel to be an abandoned wife again? Tastes pretty good, right?” “I just casually mentioned that seeing you ruined my mood, and Ethan immediately left you at home.” “He even said you’d be perfect for drawing enemy fire.” I ignored her. I called Ethan, but he hung up on me. Half a day later, he finally sent a text: “Be good and stay at home. I’ll be back when I’m done here.” He didn’t mention a single word about taking all the bodyguards. Shortly after, the Black Sea Syndicate broke into the house. The security alarms blared. An alert must have definitely been sent to Ethan’s phone, yet he remained completely silent. I looked at my phone and smiled. I dropped my lighter and set the villa ablaze. “Let’s go.” The men from the syndicate stopped me: “Didn’t you say Ethan Sterling’s daughter was here too?” I threw a DNA paternity report at him. “Send this to Ethan. He’ll pay three hundred million to keep it quiet.” “This is also the real reason your syndicate was wiped out back then. How you use it is up to you.” “Also, didn’t Chloe hire you to kill me? Prepare a fake corpse and send it to her. That’s almost four hundred million between the two of them.” Only then did the syndicate men lead me to the car. It wasn’t until I was already out at sea that Ethan finally sent a message. “Maya, stop messing around. Turn off the security alarms. I’ll be back in a little while.” It was almost funny. He hadn’t even opened the security feed to check. He was absolutely certain I was just throwing a tantrum and faking it. But it didn’t matter. Soon, the entire villa would be engulfed in flames. And the syndicate’s ransom note would be delivered right to his hands. I tossed my phone into the ocean. I watched as the syndicate hackers infiltrated the hospital’s security cameras. At the hospital, the police and the secretary arrived simultaneously. Both groups looked incredibly anxious, and their words collided as they spoke. “Mr. Sterling, your wife has been kidnapped by the pirate syndicate.” “Mr. Sterling, the Madam seems to have discovered the young miss isn’t her biological daughter.” 5 Ethan felt like he was hallucinating; otherwise, why would both of them be telling him such absurd things at the same time? The secretary tactfully stepped back. The police officer began detailing the case. The moment they detected the Black Sea Syndicate entering the country, they immediately notified Ethan to take precautions. They never expected Ethan to actually leave his wife alone at home. Ethan frowned deeply. “The security alarms going off at the house is just my wife playing a prank.” The police officer sighed. “But your villa is already on fire.” Hearing the commotion, Chloe walked out of her room. “Oh my, I didn’t expect Maya to be so impulsive. Actually burning down the house just to get your attention.” “Officer, you say Maya was kidnapped. Did you find any clues?” The officer shook his head. Chloe waved her hand dismissively. “There you go. If she was really kidnapped, Ethan would have received a ransom note. But we’ve been here all night and haven’t received a thing.” Ethan felt something was wrong. This kind of destructive tantrum wasn’t in Maya’s nature. Even back when Arthur completely ignored her and their kidnapped daughter. She had remained calm, desperately trying to scrape together the money from anyone she could. But just as Ethan was about to explain this, Chloe interrupted him. The police officer, helpless, advised them to be careful and left. Ethan was just about to call Maya when the secretary stepped forward again. “Mr. Sterling, please look at what the Madam sent.” Ethan took it. It was a DNA paternity report. It clearly stated that Maya and Lily were not biologically related. Ethan’s breath hitched, and his grip on the paper tightened. Maya… did she finally find out? Chloe leaned over to look and scoffed. “See? I told you Maya burning the house down was just her throwing a fit.” “She’s just trying to vent her anger. Nothing’s going to happen to her.” Listening to Chloe’s seemingly logical explanation, the unease in Ethan’s heart refused to dissipate. Ethan looked at his secretary. “Is my wife still unreachable?” The secretary nodded grimly. Ethan’s brow furrowed tightly. He ordered, “It’s only been three hours since the alarm went off. She can’t have gotten far. Take your men and find her immediately.” “Take all the bodyguards. You must find her as quickly as possible.” Chloe pouted in dissatisfaction. “If you let the secretary take everyone away, what about our safety?” “You know the Black Sea Syndicate are a bunch of ruthless murderers.” Ethan suddenly realized something was off and grabbed Chloe’s arm. “How did you know the people seeking revenge were the Black Sea Syndicate? I never told you that.” Only then did Chloe realize she had slipped up. Ethan already felt guilty toward Maya. If he knew she was the one who brought the syndicate here… Thinking quickly, Chloe clutched her stomach and let tears fall. “Ethan, the police officer just said it.” “I finally managed to get pregnant, and you treat me like this… Didn’t you say that as long as Arthur and I were happy, you’d do anything for me?” Only then did Ethan loosen his grip. The Chloe in front of him had red, teary eyes, looking like a frightened little rabbit. Normally, whenever she put on this face, he would instantly soften. But today, he only felt annoyed. Ethan suppressed his agitation and forced a smile, guiding Chloe back into the hospital room. “I’ve just been too exhausted these past two days; I lost my temper.” “Focus on your pregnancy. If you’re worried about safety, I can leave. The syndicate is after me.” Ethan stood up to leave, but Chloe, who had just been talking about being scared, grabbed him. “No, Ethan. If you leave, I’ll be even more scared.” He had never seen Chloe so incredibly dependent on him before. In the past, Chloe only cared about Arthur and was always indifferent to him. The only time she gave him a real smile was when he offered to raise her daughter for her. But what he used to desperately crave, he now found suffocating. Maya had never acted like this. Thinking of this, Ethan stood up abruptly. Ignoring Chloe’s calls, he walked straight out. He couldn’t just let the secretary look; he had to search too. Maya must be out of her mind with grief right now; otherwise, she would never have done something as extreme as burning down the house. He was the one who wronged her regarding their daughter. Once he found Maya, he would dedicate himself entirely to her. And they would have a child of their own. For the rest of his life, he would use all his love to make it up to Maya. But the moment he stepped out of the hospital, he received a call from his secretary. “Bad news, Mr. Sterling. The Black Sea Syndicate just delivered a ransom note.”

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During winter break, every night at exactly 3 AM, a heavy thud, thud, thud echoed from the hallway outside my bedroom door. The noise was driving me insane. I posted a rant about it online, and one comment immediately caught my eye. [OP! Quick, go check if it’s your parents kowtowing outside your door!] [If they are, RUN! They are trying to steal your lifespan!] 1 Right before the Lunar New Year, a strange thud, thud, thud sound started coming from the hallway right outside my bedroom. Every single time I opened the door to check, the sound vanished. The noise was ruining my sleep. I was visibly exhausted, dark circles bruised under my eyes. I asked my mom about it, asking if she and Dad heard the thudding at night. She just smiled softly. “Your dad and I sleep like rocks. We didn’t hear a thing. It’s probably just the neighbors doing renovations.” After a week of this, I lost my mind. I recorded the sound and posted it on Reddit to vent. I asked if anyone had any life hacks to deal with annoying noise pollution. Maybe because it was late at night, the post got a lot of traffic. I got a ton of comments quickly. Some people thought it was noise from upstairs and I was just misinterpreting the direction. Others agreed it sounded like renovations next door. People told me to go talk to the neighbors, or buy a ceiling vibrator to annoy the upstairs tenants back. Some even told me to just call the cops. I was just about to close the app when one comment caught my eye. [OP, that sounds exactly like the sound of someone kowtowing. Go check right now and see if someone is kneeling outside your door!] I checked the time. It was 4:00 AM. This person sure picked a great time to try and scare someone. I rolled my eyes and replied: [Who the hell would be kowtowing in my house at 4 AM? It’s just me and my parents here. Also, trying to scare people in the middle of the night isn’t cool.] The person replied instantly. [Then go check if it’s your parents kowtowing! If it is, RUN! They are trying to steal your lifespan!] Seeing that reply, my annoyance flared. Any sleepiness I had completely vanished. Trying to scare me was one thing, but making up sick rumors about my parents? Absolutely hilarious. Watch me flame this guy to a crisp. My fingers flew across the keyboard, turning me into a regular Beethoven of insults. [Listen here, you ************…] But right before I hit send, I glanced at his profile picture and username. I stopped. Curiosity got the better of me, and I clicked on his profile. He seemed to be a Taoist priest, though whether he was a real one or a scam artist was up for debate. His entire feed was filled with videos of rituals and daily Taoist routines. When I saw a post advertising a “Ritual Fee” of $100, I immediately concluded he was a scammer. I went back to finish flaming him, but he had already sent me a DM. [OP, I know what I said sounds crazy, but please don’t get mad. I just listened to your video again on loop.] [I am certain that is the sound of a human head hitting the floor. Go check if your parents are kowtowing to you. If I’m wrong, I will publicly apologize. If I’m right, I only have one word for you: RUN.] I almost laughed out loud at the audacity of this scammer. He must be really desperate for cash, trying this hard to reel me in. Since I was wide awake anyway, I decided to play along and typed back: [Stop being ridiculous. Do you really think I haven’t checked the hallway when the noise happens? I’ve checked multiple times, and the hallway is completely empty.] Less than a second later, he replied. I seriously wondered if he had these responses pre-typed and ready to go. [Did the sound stop the exact second you opened the door?] [Yeah.] I replied dismissively. This was literally the most overused trope in horror movies. Anyone could guess that. I wasn’t impressed. [That proves it! They are watching your door intently. The moment you move to open it, they know.] [If you don’t believe me, sneak out quietly and take a peek. Then you’ll know if I’m lying.] 2 A slight chill crept up my spine. My bedroom was at the very end of a long hallway, facing a blank wall. To get to the living room, you had to walk down this hallway. If someone really was kneeling out there… They would have plenty of time to hear me turning the knob, stand up, and retreat to their room before I saw them. To prove this guy was a fraud, and to prove my parents weren’t doing some creepy cult ritual at 4 AM, I turned on my phone camera and started recording. I tiptoed out of bed, moving as silently as possible, and gently placed my hand on the doorknob. With a faint click, the door opened. This time, the thud, thud, thud didn’t stop. My heart instantly leaped into my throat. Countless times before, the moment I opened the door, the sound vanished. But this time, it kept going. I swallowed hard. I gripped my phone and crept forward. The rhythmic thudding felt like a heavy hammer striking directly against my heart. My palms started to sweat. I moved out of the doorway and headed slowly down the hall toward the living room. Suddenly, my foot crunched down on something. It felt like an empty plastic water bottle. Who left that in the middle of the hallway? In the dead silence of the dark house, the loud CRACK of the plastic was magnified a hundred times. It echoed in my ears. My heart stopped. I was terrified I had alerted whatever was making the noise. Strangely enough, the thudding stopped immediately. I pressed myself against the wall, holding my breath, listening intently. Dead silence. Taking a deep breath, I quickly walked the rest of the way into the living room. Nobody. There was absolutely nothing there. I panned my phone’s flashlight across the room. Just as I thought. Empty. My racing heart finally settled. I felt so stupid for actually believing some internet scammer. I turned around, went back to my room, and sent him the video I just took. [See for yourself. There’s literally no one there. It’s obviously just noise from the neighbors or the upstairs unit.] A long time passed. Even as I drifted off to sleep, he hadn’t replied. In my drowsy state, I smugly assumed I had called his bluff and he was too embarrassed to respond. The next morning, I woke up to a barrage of messages from him. [Is that your house?! Why is it decorated like a mourning hall?!] [OP, I am dead serious. The people kowtowing outside your door are your parents!] [Your living room is set up exactly like a funeral shrine. Based on the angle of your video, your bedroom door is positioned exactly where the sacrificial altar should be. YOU are the sacrifice!] A mourning hall?! A cold draft blew in through my window, raising goosebumps all over my arms. I suddenly remembered that a few months ago, my parents said our furniture was getting old and they wanted to remodel. They said they looked online and saw that young people really liked “minimalist aesthetics,” so they wanted to follow the trend. They redecorated the entire living room in stark black and white. At the time, I even joked about how trendy my sixty-year-old parents were becoming. But reading the priest’s messages… I thought back to the layout of the living room. It really did look eerily like a funeral setup… Seeing that I hadn’t replied, he sent one final message. [OP, I am warning you one last time. When you hear the sound tonight, sneak out and look, but DO NOT make a sound.] I made up my mind. I was going to check again tonight. I spent the entire day completely distracted, haunted by the priest’s words. My mom gently patted my head, looking concerned. “What’s wrong, sweetie? You look so pale.” Looking at the genuine, maternal worry in my mom’s eyes, I mentally mocked myself. How could I trust a random stranger on the internet over my own mother who raised me for twenty years? I told my mom it was because the thudding noise was keeping me up. My mom frowned, pulling me into a hug. I noticed a few more gray hairs near her temples. “It’s okay, honey. Mom will brew you some calming herbal tea tonight. It’s almost the New Year. If it’s still loud in a few days, your dad and I will go have a word with the neighbors upstairs!” 3 After dinner, my mom brought a steaming bowl of herbal tea into my room. She said drinking it guaranteed a deep sleep, claiming it was an old family recipe. I looked at my mom gratefully, my eyes misting over. My mom was so good to me. How could a mother like this ever want to hurt me? So, I decided I wasn’t going to make a sound tonight, just so I could prove that internet charlatan wrong once and for all. But I didn’t want to break my mom’s heart, so I took a few sips right in front of her. Once she left the room, I poured the rest of it into the potted plant on my windowsill. For some reason, the tea smelled a little off. Beneath the strong herbal scent, there was a faint, almost metallic tang of raw blood. At exactly 3:00 AM, the thud, thud, thud started again. This time, I was smart. When I opened the door, I used my phone flashlight to carefully scan the floor. Once I was certain there were no water bottles or anything else that could make noise, I stepped out. As I crept closer, the thudding grew louder and more distinct. It really did sound like a human head repeatedly striking the floorboards. I swallowed hard, my heart jumping into my throat. When I reached the corner of the hallway and peeked out, the sight before me almost made me scream. Cold sweat instantly soaked through the back of my pajamas. My mom was kneeling dead center in the living room, facing the direction of my bedroom, kowtowing slowly and forcefully. Thud… Thud… Thud… My dad stood perfectly straight beside her, holding something in his hands. The priest… he was right. My heart hammered against my ribs, my legs turning to jelly. Leaning heavily against the wall for support, I slowly began inching backward. What the hell were they doing?! I had a terrifying urge to run out there and demand to know why they were kowtowing. But looking at the pale, ghastly glow of the moonlight illuminating their eyes, I didn’t dare. Suddenly, my mom stopped. Her head froze mid-air, hovering just above the floor. It was incredibly unnatural. At the exact same moment, my dad stopped whatever he was doing with his hands. Because his back was to me, I couldn’t see what he was holding. He slowly lifted his head, his neck twisting rigidly toward my hiding spot in the hallway. I slapped both hands over my mouth, shrinking back into the shadows. An inexplicable surge of adrenaline hit me. I turned and bolted back to my room, gently clicking the door shut, and dove under the covers, wrapping myself up tight. I gasped for air quietly. My palms were drenched in cold sweat, my whole body shaking violently from pure terror. The noise outside had completely stopped. It was replaced by the sound of footsteps. I clenched my fists, forcing myself to calm down. A faint click. My bedroom door opened. I could feel them walking toward my bed. I could feel the heavy, scrutinizing weight of a cold gaze staring down at me in the dark. “Chloe. Chloe, are you asleep?” It was my mom. I focused everything on keeping my breathing deep and even. After what felt like an eternity, my mom spoke again. “See, honey? I told you it was just your imagination. Chloe is fast asleep. Let’s go.” My dad grunted in agreement. I heard their footsteps retreating toward the door. The moment the door clicked shut, I let out a massive, silent exhale. But I had watched enough horror movies to know better than to open my eyes right away. I stayed perfectly still, pretending to sleep. Two minutes later, I finally dared to crack my eyes open. Thank god. No terrifying jump-scares waiting for me. They had actually left. I shifted my stiff, numb body. Suddenly, a low, breathy chuckle sounded right behind my head. 4 My entire body went rigid. I felt like I had been plunged into a bath of ice water. They… they never left! I swallowed, forcing my eyes to slowly track upward. What I saw nearly made me pass out. My parents were standing right behind the headboard, bent over at a harsh 90-degree angle, their faces hovering directly above mine. They were both smiling—a twisted, unnatural grin—staring dead at me. “Chloe. So you weren’t asleep after all.” Just as I was about to unleash a bloodcurdling scream, a loud snap echoed through the room, and the blinding white ceiling light flickered on. My mom gently patted my back. “Did we scare you, honey? Mom and Dad were just pulling a little prank on you.” “Did you come out of your room earlier? We thought you might be scared, so we came to check on you.” Under the harsh fluorescent light, my mom’s face looked ghastly pale. But looking closely… The gray hairs I noticed just this morning… there were noticeably fewer of them. I instinctively shook my head. “I… no, I didn’t…” For a fraction of a second, the loving smile on my mom’s face cracked. She quickly recovered, but I caught it. She grabbed my hand and rubbed it warmly. “Are you lying to Mommy now? Your dad saw you.” “Were you spooked? Come on, Mom and Dad aren’t going to hide it from you anymore. Come out and look.” Before I could object, she forcibly yanked me out of bed. How did a sixty-something-year-old woman have this much strength? Her grip on my wrist felt like an iron vise. I couldn’t pull away. She half-dragged, half-carried me out into the brightly lit living room. She pulled me over and pointed at the wall facing my bedroom. “See? We were just praying to the God of Wealth. We didn’t tell you because we were afraid you’d think we were just superstitious boomers. But since you saw us, we won’t keep it a secret anymore.” I followed her finger. Sitting in a recessed alcove dead center in the wall was a terrifying statue. Wait. I had never seen a God of Wealth shrine in our house before. My mom anticipated my confusion and quickly explained. She said that because I was young and didn’t believe in this stuff, they didn’t want to bother me with it. So they built a hidden compartment in the wall. During the day, it was locked away behind a panel. At night, when it was time, they opened it to pray. That was why I had never seen it. Hearing her explanation, I let out a massive sigh of relief. “Mom, it’s fine! A lot of young people pray to the God of Wealth for good luck too! You don’t have to hide it. Since it’s open, let me pray to him too.” I made a move to drop to my knees and kowtow to the statue. My mom violently yanked me back. She looked panicked, almost awkward. “Chloe, no! You can’t pray to this one! This is a specific deity from our ancestral village. It’s not a normal God of Wealth.” I looked at her, confused. “Only older people like us can pray to it, and only at very specific times. We can’t mess with the traditions.” Seeing that I was about to ask more questions, my mom didn’t give me the chance. She practically shoved me back into my bedroom. “Alright, you already had a bad night’s sleep. Go back to bed. Just make sure you drink your herbal tea from now on, and the noise won’t bother you.” I lay in bed. Everything my mom said made logical sense. But for some reason, a deep, primal instinct was screaming that something was horribly wrong. There was no more kowtowing for the rest of the night. I eventually fell into a troubled sleep. 5 I had nightmares all night long. When I finally woke up, it was almost noon. My mom had already cooked a massive feast and called me out to eat. I stood in front of the bathroom mirror, turning my head side to side. The person staring back at me looked incredibly sickly. I ran my hands through my hair, and a large clump of hair came loose in my fingers. Looking closer, there were several gray strands mixed in. I’m only twenty-one! Why am I getting gray hair?! At the dining table, my mom kept piling meat and vegetables into my bowl. She urged me to eat more, commenting on how terrible I looked. Both my parents started apologizing profusely, saying they were so caught up in their prayers they didn’t realize they were ruining my sleep. My mom was a fantastic cook. But for some inexplicable reason, I could smell that same faint, metallic tang of blood in the food. After lunch, my head felt like it was stuffed with cotton. I went back to my room to catch up on sleep. That was when I suddenly remembered the Taoist priest on Reddit. I frantically opened the app. His last messages were still unread. [Did you check last night? Were your parents kowtowing?!] [Answer me.] I shook my heavy head and rapidly typed on my screen. After what happened last night, I found myself instinctively trusting the priest more than my own parents. Thinking back carefully, my mom’s explanation was full of holes. Why did they suddenly start this tradition this year? They had never done it before. Why did they specifically have to pray at 3:00 AM? And that statue… it looked vicious and demonic. Like a monster straight out of hell. The God of Wealth is supposed to look kind and benevolent. That thing was purely malevolent. I started to suspect my parents were involved in something dark. Maybe they got scammed and brainwashed by an evil cult. But I still didn’t believe the parents who raised me for two decades actually wanted to murder me. [I saw them last night. My mom was kowtowing. But she wasn’t bowing to me, she was bowing to a ‘God of Wealth’ statue.] [But the statue looked really weird. Not like the normal ones.] He replied instantly, as if he had been sitting there staring at our chat. [!!! Holy shit. I know what this is. Your parents are worshiping an Evil Deity! They aren’t just trying to steal your lifespan, they are trying to sacrifice you!] [I guarantee your birth chart (Bazi) is buried underneath that statue. Also, have you noticed any changes in your mom recently? Like her looking younger?] My heart dropped into my stomach. I instantly recalled how the gray hair around my mom’s temples had noticeably vanished this morning. And how my own hair was suddenly turning gray and falling out. I typed everything out and sent it to him. He immediately initiated a voice call. To my surprise, the voice on the other end was young and incredibly smooth. “OP, answer my questions. Exactly when did you first start hearing the kowtowing?” I thought about it. “About three weeks ago. Almost twenty days, I think.” The line went silent for a second. When he spoke again, his pace was frantic. “RUN! You are out of time! Tomorrow night is the culmination of the ritual. Tomorrow night is when they sacrifice you.” My brain buzzed with static. I opened my mouth to reply. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw my bedroom door slowly creak open, just a crack. A freezing draft blew through the gap. And in the pitch blackness of the hallway, a pair of eyes was staring dead at me. My throat went bone dry. I instantly pivoted my tone. “Oh, Stacy! You want to grab dinner tonight? Yeah, I’m free! I have time! Let me just tell my mom.” I picked up my phone, stood up, and casually walked toward the door, pretending I hadn’t noticed anything. Keeping my peripheral vision locked on the crack, I saw the eyes instantly vanish into the darkness. “What happened? Are your parents monitoring you?” The priest asked. “That makes sense. It’s the final day. They can’t afford any mistakes.” “Send me your address right now. My Master and I are on our way. Find an excuse to leave the house, immediately!”

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Five years after our breakup. Ethan Vance had become a billionaire, complete with a beautiful fiancée. At a reunion, someone brought me up. “Chloe Hastings never shows up to these reunions. What’s her deal?” “Heh, she’s too busy gold-digging on airplanes.” “On airplanes?” “Yeah. She’s a flight attendant for some airline. I saw her once. You should have seen the fawning smile on her face when she served the rich passengers.” “Really? A flight attendant? I guess she’s just as obsessed with money as she was back then.” Ethan, sitting in the center, narrowed his eyes slightly, his hand clenching into a fist. “A flight attendant?” “Yeah. Ethan, it’s been so many years. Have you still not forgotten her?” He took the hand of his fiancée sitting next to him. The massive diamond ring on the girl’s finger instantly blinded everyone. “I forgot her a long time ago. My wedding is next month. Make sure you all come for a drink.” Everyone immediately offered their congratulations. Only I, floating in the air, lowered my head. 1 One year after I died. The class group chat organized a reunion. Hearing that Ethan, whose net worth had skyrocketed, would also be there, the group chat became incredibly lively. Over thirty active avatars. Only my avatar was grayed out, silent at the very bottom. Because I was already dead. I couldn’t use any communication devices anymore. In my lonely room, the furnishings were exactly as I had left them when I was alive. My anti-cancer drugs still sat on the table. The day of the reunion. I floated to the venue. A huge private room in a seven-star hotel. I floated inside, looking left and right. Soon, everyone had arrived. The last person to enter. I held my breath. That tall, broad figure, those long legs—it was none other than Ethan Vance. He was dressed in a niche, custom European brand. Incredibly low-key, yet exuding impeccable taste. I stared, mesmerized. The next second, a beautiful girl appeared in the doorway and hooked her arm through his. “Ethan, are these all your classmates?” My breath instantly hitched. At the reunion, everyone talked loudly, ate, and drank, but without exception, they all tried to cozy up to Ethan. Suddenly, someone glanced around the room. “Is Chloe the only one who didn’t show up?” “Heh. In the five years since graduation, she’s practically vanished. Who knows what she’s doing?” “A successful new-generation tech mogul like Ethan, we at least see him on TV occasionally. She’s the most mysterious one. Probably married some rich guy and became a trophy wife.” Everyone chimed in, one after another. Until the class social chair, who hadn’t spoken, took a sip of red wine. “What trophy wife? Serving rich businessmen and trophy wives is more like it. She’s a flight attendant for some airline, spinning around like a top.” The girl speaking was Lily. She was also very pretty. She had married a moderately wealthy boss. A year ago, I had served her and her husband on a flight. “You’ve seen her?” Everyone was instantly curious. “Heh, a flight attendant? That’s a shortcut to getting close to rich people. She’s got a sharp mind.” “Which airline? How come I’ve never run into her?” Lily spat out two words: “Skyward Airlines.” “That airline is famous for having beautiful stewardesses and handsome stewards.” “If I get the chance, I’ll buy a ticket with them and try it out.” When the topic came up. I silently looked at Ethan in the center. He didn’t say a word, his face solemn. The hand resting on the armrest was clenched so tight the veins popped. The class president next to him glanced at his fist and immediately signaled everyone to stop talking. The class president picked up his wine glass and toasted Ethan. “Ethan, some people aren’t worth it. They aren’t worth thinking about.” Ethan didn’t move. He sat there, tall and imposing, as if frozen for a moment. This was too abnormal. Everyone didn’t even dare to breathe too loudly. Next to him, the beautiful girl looked a bit awkward and gently took his hand. A few seconds later, he snapped back to reality. He picked up his wine glass and lightly clinked it against the class president’s. “I forgot her a long time ago.” He took a sip of wine and, backhandedly, gripped the girl’s hand tightly. “I haven’t shared the good news yet. Next month, I’m holding my wedding. You’re all welcome to come for a drink.” 2 That night. I drifted around the streets, wandering aimlessly. It wasn’t until I was truly exhausted that I floated back home. A light was on in the room, which was strange. It was Mia, my best friend when I was alive. She had drawn a basin of water and was cleaning my room. She had also plugged my old phone in to charge. She did everything in silence. My eyes, however, stung sharply. Suddenly, my phone dinged a few times. She put down the mop, walked over, and picked up my phone. It was the class group chat. “Mr. Vance, what date is the wedding banquet exactly? Where is it being held?” Someone also posted a photo from the reunion of Ethan and Ms. Yin sitting together. “Look, everyone. Such a perfect match. A talented man and a beautiful woman.” “Compared to a certain superficial person with zero substance from back then, she’s a thousand, ten thousand times better.” Bang. Mia’s hand trembled, and the phone fell to the floor. She suddenly crouched down, covered her face, and cried. She opened a photo of me, caressing my smiling face on the screen. “You idiot. He’s getting married, do you know that? And to think you were still calling his name right before you died.” Mia turned off the phone and continued cleaning. When she left, this time, she took my old phone with her. I was confused. I followed Mia to her house. Guarding an empty house alone was just too unbearable. Usually, what made me happiest was Mia coming once a month to charge my phone. That way, whenever a notification popped up, I could see it. I thought it was pretty interesting. Even in death, you can still read the news. 3 Mia and I were both poor. She struggled even more than I did. She was an unmarried mother, and her daughter was born with a congenital heart defect. She put the phone down and fell asleep next to her daughter. I couldn’t sleep. I floated around the room a few times, until finally, a phone screen lit up. I floated over. It was my phone. It was a web news notification. When I saw the headline, I was shocked. #CEO of CloudTech Crashes into Guardrail Late at Night# Ethan Vance was the CEO of CloudTech. The location of the accident was on Oak Street. Was he hurt? I couldn’t care about anything else and immediately floated toward Oak Street. When I arrived, a section of the road was indeed cordoned off, and a crowd had gathered. There was also a Maybach with a crushed front end. My heart pounded. I immediately floated into the crowd, searching for Ethan’s figure. I couldn’t find a trace of Ethan in the circle of people. I was frantic. “Mr. Vance, your hand is injured. Let me take you to the hospital.” Hearing the voice, I whipped my head around and saw Ethan sitting on the curb. His arm hung limply, and blood dripped from the back of his hand. My heart ached looking at him. He didn’t say a word and silently got into the car that came to pick him up. 4 At the hospital, the doctor suggested staying for a few days of observation. Ethan refused. After simply getting his hand bandaged, he left the hospital. The driver drove the car. “Mr. Vance, your health is precious. You should at least get a full-body checkup.” He massaged his temples and leaned back against the seat. “Who’s handling the accident scene?” “Assistant Wright.” Ethan didn’t speak again. He seemed utterly exhausted, leaning back in his chair with his eyes closed to rest. The car drove all the way into a mansion nestled in the hills. The main gates opened automatically, and the lights of the villa flickered on one by one. Ethan went inside. I surveyed the furnishings inside the house. The boy everyone knew was poor back then had now become the unreachable Mr. Vance. “You can go.” The driver, however, seemed uneasy. “Mr. Vance, you don’t seem right. Did something happen at the reunion?” Those close to Ethan vaguely knew that he had a messy romantic past. The top student of the school had once been dumped by a girl. He had been in agonizing pain, destitute and miserable for a whole year. Ethan shot him a glare. The driver immediately took the hint and left. 5 I stayed in Ethan’s mansion the entire night. He rested, leaning against the sofa. I stayed right beside him, keeping watch over him. It’s a pity he couldn’t feel me. Not only did he not feel me, he didn’t even hear Ms. Yin’s phone calls. Luckily, his mansion was quite warm. Sitting on the sofa all night wouldn’t give him a cold. Dawn broke. He opened his eyes, grabbed his phone to check the time, then put it down and went to wash up. I was puzzled. Didn’t he see Ms. Yin’s missed calls? But a second later, I understood. It was barely dawn; Ms. Yin was probably still asleep right now. After arriving at the company. Ethan buried himself in his work, processing fifty reports in one morning. At noon, he opened his phone. Many classmates had sent messages of concern; they must have all seen yesterday’s news. He picked out the class president’s message and replied. He put the phone down. His secretary walked in. “Mr. Vance, I’ll book the tickets for Europe now.” His pen, which had been signing a document, paused. “Before going to Europe, isn’t there a trip down South?” The secretary nodded. “The day after tomorrow. I’ve already booked the tickets.” He suddenly raised his head. “Which airline?” The secretary froze for a moment, but quickly reported, “It’s Ocean Air.” Ethan suddenly paused. “Change it.” “Mr. Vance, do we need to adjust the timing?” “Change the airline.” The secretary was even more stunned. “Which one would you like to change to?” Ethan pondered for a moment. I looked at him; the fountain pen in his grip seemed to have been squeezed a bit flat. “Skyward Airlines.” The secretary was surprised. But then grabbed a tablet and immediately started changing the flight. “Mr. Vance, it’s booked. First class, seat 1A.” Ethan didn’t say a word. The secretary tactfully retreated. The office returned to silence. I stared at Ethan in astonishment. Skyward Airlines? The airline I flew for when I was alive. Did he want to see me? But then I shook my head violently. Impossible. Even if it was because of me, he probably just wanted to see how pathetic I looked now. Or maybe he wanted to deliver a line like: “Chloe, didn’t you end up with that factory heir? Out here working as a servant?” Ethan had always been a gentleman. He probably wouldn’t say something like that. But back then, right in front of him, I took someone else’s arm and trampled him into the dirt. In broad daylight, his eyes had been full of red, terrifyingly bloodshot. He looked like he wanted to strangle me, this wicked woman. He couldn’t say it to others, but saying it to me, the ex-girlfriend who cruelly abandoned him, wouldn’t be excessive at all. 6 Two days later. Ethan departed for the South, and returned from the South, both times on Skyward Airlines flights. Neither flight had me as a flight attendant. His eyes looked very dark. While in first class, he even got up and took a walk through economy and business class. Among the flight attendants on duty, he didn’t find any trace of me. He was visibly disappointed. Floating in the air watching, I felt regretful too. After we broke up, the reason I chose to become a flight attendant was because I felt it was already impossible for Ethan and me to ever meet again. But I simply couldn’t control my own heart. I always hoped that we could meet again, that I could catch a glimpse of him one more time in the vast sea of humanity. I heard he was very successful now. Successful people mostly fly all over the country, and Ethan shouldn’t be an exception. So I decisively chose a large domestic airline and became a flight attendant. But fate loves to play tricks. During my three years of flying, Ethan never appeared once. Only now did I understand that he held a Platinum card with another major airline. He usually stuck with that rival airline for his travels. Regret, like a dense cloud, clogged my soul, unable to dissipate for a long time. During the flight, the purser proactively asked Ethan several times, pushing service to the absolute pinnacle of perfection, hoping to retain this tycoon so he would choose Skyward next time. 7 I didn’t go back home either. I kept following Ethan; wherever he went, I floated. That day, he finished a meeting and returned to his office. There were several messages in the class group chat. He originally intended to swipe past, but accidentally clicked on them. “I just got off a Skyward flight, didn’t see Chloe.” “I checked my past flights, they were Skyward too, and among the flight attendants, I didn’t see Chloe either.” Someone tagged Lily. “Lily, you didn’t lie to us last time, did you?” Lily: “Lie to you? Do I have too much free time? I’m sure she’s at Skyward. Maybe she just wasn’t on the flights you took.” “That’s possible.” “Maybe she resigned.” “Hmph, good thing she didn’t run into me, otherwise I wouldn’t have given her the time of day.” “In our class, she was the only one with average grades and a bad character.” I bit my lip. Everyone’s prejudice against me had always been deeply rooted. When I loudly and proudly pursued Ethan, no one thought it would last. They thought it was just a rich girl’s game, just playing around. But we seriously dated for three years, and everyone started thinking I was serious and their opinion of me changed a bit. But right then, I coldly and ruthlessly initiated a breakup, shocking everyone. The always aloof, top-student Ethan was almost completely broken by it. I was solidly nailed to the pillar of shame as the “wicked woman.” Amidst the chorus of condemnation. Someone suddenly spoke up. “But did you guys notice? Chloe’s avatar went gray a year ago. Does anyone really know how she’s doing?” “Since we were classmates, let’s keep our words kind. Last time I saw a friend’s avatar stay gray for six months, and when I asked around, I found out they had passed away.” The group chat instantly fell silent. I immediately looked at Ethan. He was gripping his phone, his knuckles white. It was a long while before the class president finally spoke. “Don’t say unlucky things. Even though we haven’t seen her in a long time, she’s definitely still healthy. Don’t go cursing people.” 8 In the afternoon. Ethan kept a tight, stony face. Several department managers got chewed out by him. Walking out of the office, everyone wiped the sweat from their foreheads. “What’s wrong with Mr. Vance?” “Yeah, there were no mistakes in our work.” “Stop talking. Mr. Vance has high standards for us, maybe his expectations are just even higher.” Everyone left, feeling dejected. When work ended. Ethan stood by the floor-to-ceiling window. A ray of the setting sun shot through the massive glass, elongating his shadow. Watching him from behind, I felt the profound, intense loneliness radiating from him. For some reason, I felt that Ethan’s feelings for Ms. Yin weren’t strong enough. Ms. Yin was from a prominent family. Perhaps, more than romance, this was an arranged marriage between two great families. The assistant stood behind him, and after a long time, finally spoke cautiously. “Mr. Vance, the bridal center sent over five venue layout plans. You need to choose one.” The man remained silent. The assistant broke into a cold sweat and said tremblingly. “I… I’ll just send them over to Ms. Yin and let her choose.” “A beach wedding. The color scheme will be blue and white, and the primary flower for the venue will be the Iris.” The assistant opened his mouth, finding it hard to believe. “The beach? Does Ms. Yin know?” The tall, dark figure suddenly turned slightly, his aura cold and eerie. The assistant said nothing more and immediately went to carry out the order. Ethan was dressed entirely in black today. When he turned, the areas untouched by the light were terrifyingly cold. With a tangle of emotions, my heart felt heavy, and I couldn’t bear it anymore. I floated away. He was going to hold his wedding on the beach? It must be very romantic.

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I was born with a naturally high-pitched, sweet voice. To many, I sounded incredibly fake and overly precious. My childhood friend, Liam, loved to mock me for it. He jokingly referred to me to the whole class as his “little delicate trophy wife.” A classmate mimicked my voice, exaggerating the pitch: “Oh, little squeaker, Liam doesn’t actually like girls who act this fake.” I shook my head. “I’m not trying to be anything for anyone. This is just how my voice sounds.” “Why are you trying to force me to change who I am?” Her face froze, her mouth opening to argue. I cut her off. “Or are you just jealous of me?” She was speechless, glaring at me with pure resentment. I stood up, adjusted my pink scarf, picked up my textbook, and brushed past her shoulder. A dozen pairs of eyes followed me. They locked onto my pink watch. “Chloe is so incredibly fake.” “I bet even her underwear is pink.” The tiny, dense whispers flowed continuously into my ears. I silently opened my textbook and said in my soft, quiet voice, “It’s morning reading time. Please stop gossiping.” The chattering stopped for a few seconds, only to erupt even louder. It felt like they were doing it just to spite me. “Her voice is so strained it’s probably going to give out. She sounds like an old witch.” “Does she actually think anyone finds that baby voice cute?” Liam sat in the corner, watching me lazily, a smirk playing on his lips. He always seemed to enjoy watching me struggle. I scanned the classroom and slapped my hand hard on the podium. “If you have a problem, take it up with the teacher.” The classroom finally fell silent. By the time morning reading ended, a layer of sweat had broken out on my forehead. Returning to my seat, I felt a bit dazed. The mocking words and sneering looks from earlier replayed on an endless loop in my mind. Even though this was far from the first time, I still needed a thick skin to endure it. I led the morning reading once a week. And just because I liked the color pink and had a soft, high-pitched voice… I was treated like a freak in my own class. Suddenly, someone tapped my shoulder. I didn’t turn around, continuing to organize my desk. Liam shoved a carton of strawberry milk into my hand, raising an eyebrow. “Chloe, you’re not going to cry, are you?” His words sounded comforting, but his expression betrayed an unmistakable thrill of excitement. I quietly handed the milk back to him. His eyes darkened, his mood souring instantly. “I thought you liked pink? What’s wrong, did a few words really break your fragile little heart?” “Look, your voice is pretty fake, but I’m used to it…” I slammed the milk onto the floor. “I don’t need it.” Secretive glances darted our way; half the class was suddenly very interested in our conversation. The veins in Liam’s neck bulged, his expression turning cold. “Chloe, stop being such a drama queen.” I stood up and walked around him to go to the restroom. He stuck right by my side, his shoulder brushing my back, speaking through gritted teeth. “Chloe, what is your problem today?” “Are you actually mad?” I stopped dead in my tracks, my fists clenched tight. I stopped so abruptly that Liam couldn’t react in time and almost tripped over his own feet. He looked annoyed. “If you insist on wearing pink, you have to be prepared for people to talk trash.” “This is the STEM track. It’s not some humanities class full of girls.” I cut him off. “Liam, are you done talking?” He yanked on a strand of my hair, making my scalp sting. “There you go, acting like a baby again.” “Little squeaker, you…” I fiercely swatted his hand away. “You’re psychotic. What does my favorite color have to do with you?” Leaving that sentence hanging in the air, I walked into the girls’ restroom. From outside the door, I could hear Liam’s furious voice. “You act like such a weirdo! Who else is going to pity you besides me?!” He kept rambling, continuously trying to tear me down. I pulled a tissue from my pocket to wipe my sweat. The pink bunny printed on the packaging suddenly felt glaring, making my eyes ache. I just didn’t understand. When I chose the STEM track, Liam was incredibly surprised. That day, he tugged on my backpack strap, looking both thrilled and arrogant. “You got put in the same class as me.” I froze, a wave of disappointment washing over me. I was good at math and science, so of course, I chose STEM. But I didn’t want to share a classroom with him. An emotion I couldn’t decipher swirled in Liam’s eyes. He spoke to me like a scolding parent: “Since you chose STEM, you shouldn’t wear so much pink anymore.” I was stunned. He looked down his nose at me. “Not everyone is going to spoil you like I do.” I yanked my backpack strap out of his grip and frowned at him. “I’ll wear whatever I want.” Liam’s voice dropped. “Then don’t come crying to me later.” I stared at him in disbelief. I had known Liam for over a decade. He always loved lecturing me about being “too soft.” He was constantly trying to make me cry, to make me submit to him. In elementary school, I had a pink water bottle. He scraped the paint off of it just to mess with me. “Chloe, your bottle isn’t pink anymore. Are you still gonna drink from it?” The bottle showed patches of cold, ugly silver metal. Liam looked incredibly smug. “Are you gonna cry?” I bit my lip, fought back my tears, and got so mad I actually got into a physical fight with him. Afterward, he wore that fight like a badge of honor, constantly repeating, “See? You don’t need pink.” Someone once pointed out to him: “She’s just faking it to get attention.” Liam nodded in agreement. “Yeah, Chloe is just a fake, precious girl.” I had sniffled and run out of the classroom, totally devastated. The emotional blow was so severe that for a while, just seeing the color pink gave me anxiety. I was terrified of Liam calling me fake, and terrified of my classmates’ mockery. I started wearing black and white clothes and stopped using anything pink. But Liam just laughed again. “Your voice is so soft and weak, it constantly sounds like you’re whining for attention.” My palms turned ice cold. I grabbed the hem of my shirt, completely lost. From that day on, I didn’t dare speak up in class, and I stopped making eye contact with my classmates. My dad noticed something was wrong and sat me down for a long talk. “Chloe, why don’t you like pink anymore? And why haven’t you been talking to me…” I blinked, and the tears I had been holding back finally fell, drip, drop, soaking his suit jacket. “Dad, liking pink is a mistake.” “Why does my voice sound like this? It’s so high and squeaky.” My dad sighed. “You were born with that voice. It’s a gift you inherited from your mother.” “If you care too much about what other people think, you’ll never be happy.” I wiped my tears. “But they all say I’m faking it.” He pulled a brand-new pink water bottle from behind his back. “Pink is a very soft color,” he said gently. “But you don’t have to be as fierce as a sunflower, or as glamorous as a rose.” “Just being a cute, pretty pink flower is perfectly fine.” The dark clouds in my heart finally parted. Liking pink wasn’t a mistake. The next time Liam tried to provoke me, he realized I was bulletproof. He pulled my hair and stole my pink hair clips. I kept my eyes facing forward and treated him like he didn’t exist. Liam muttered in frustration, “Why aren’t you crying?” I just scoffed, and went right back to wearing the brightest pinks and speaking in my naturally soft voice as I walked around campus. I thought that as we grew older, people would stop gossiping about me. I didn’t realize that in the STEM track, pink was basically a taboo. After we split into our specialized tracks, my class was 70% boys. They usually wore black, white, or gray. When I walked into the classroom carrying a bunch of pink school supplies, I instantly drew everyone’s attention. People started whispering. I silently walked to my seat. When it was my turn to introduce myself, my high, soft voice triggered a wave of laughter. “Oh my god, so precious. It’s giving me goosebumps.” “Why didn’t she choose the humanities track? She doesn’t look like someone who’s good at math.” The teacher tried to smooth things over. “Chloe’s voice just sounds a bit like a little girl’s.” I said flatly, “I am a girl.” The room fell dead silent. I casually sat down, my eyes briefly sweeping over Liam in the corner. He looked arrogant and mocking, as if to say: [See? Wearing pink in a STEM class is insane.] [No one is going to accept you except me.] And it seemed like his words were a self-fulfilling prophecy. Taking my turn as the weekly morning reading leader turned me into the class joke. The walk from my desk to the podium felt like miles. Whenever I stood up there, I would hear the word “squeaker” whispered in the crowd. Some people even theorized that I was putting on this “fake” persona because I liked Liam. That I was doing it on purpose to get his attention. Liam never defended me. Instead, he insisted on bringing me a carton of strawberry milk every single day, loudly declaring: “I’m doing you a favor, proving you aren’t completely repulsive to everyone.” He watched my embarrassment with pure amusement. He was trying to play the hero in a crisis he helped create. No matter how many times I rejected him, he just assumed I was playing hard to get or throwing a cute tantrum. I shoved the tissue back into my pocket. I was so utterly sick of him sticking to me like gum on a shoe. I left the restroom but didn’t dare go back to the classroom until the bell rang. Where the teacher was, people didn’t look at me like I was an alien. I took a deep breath and opened my textbook. A folded note suddenly landed on my desk. “Class committee team-building dinner tomorrow night. Don’t be absent.” My shoulders slumped as I tried to think of an excuse to get out of it. Before I could even decline after class, the Class President, who sat behind me, specifically warned me: “Chloe, you better not ditch us.” I forced a smile. “I have a family emergency.” Her eyes darted around. “But Liam said you were free.” “Aren’t you guys neighbors?” Liam sat in the corner, his expression dark and brooding. He was radiating a miserable aura because I had stood up to him earlier. I pressed my lips together, my expression turning cold. “He doesn’t live in my house.” The President patted my shoulder. “However you need to handle it, you have to come tomorrow night! There’s a surprise!” With that, she sprinted away. I frowned, completely at a loss, and immediately texted her to reiterate my stance. [I’m not going. Don’t wait for me.] The President replied with a barrage of texts trying to persuade me. I ignored all of them. The next afternoon, the moment school ended, I headed straight for the door. I had barely taken three steps when two pairs of hands clamped down on my shoulders. I spun around, breaking into a cold sweat. The loudest girls in the class were holding me in place. They smiled, though it didn’t reach their eyes. “Don’t run off! We’re just waiting for you.” I rarely got angry, but I started struggling fiercely. “I said I’m not going!” They dragged me toward a waiting car. “Stop being so shy.” “There’s a surprise waiting for you.” The KTV room was bathed in flashing neon lights, the bass from the speakers hurting my eardrums. I turned my head away, closed my eyes, and sank into the corner of the sofa, pretending to be dead. They were playing drinking games, making a massive, rowdy scene. Suddenly, someone grabbed my hand. “Chloe, you got the Dare!” I frowned deeply. “I wasn’t even playing! How did I get chosen?!” “Liam drew for you! You guys are childhood sweethearts, right?” My chest heaved with anger. I turned to glare at Liam. He was staring right back at me, a mix of frustration and amusement in his eyes. I refused this unsolicited proxy. “He doesn’t represent me.” The room erupted in dramatic gasps. “Chloe, don’t be a buzzkill.” “Stop acting so fragile. Can’t you just be a good sport like the other girls?” The President grabbed my hand. “The dare is super easy. You just have to sing a love song duet with Liam.” “Your voice is so sweet, I bet you sound amazing when you sing.” The girls exchanged looks, giggling mockingly. Goosebumps broke out over my arms. I yanked my hand back, stood up, and tried to head for the door. The President instigated, “Liam, it looks like Chloe doesn’t want to sing with you.” The next second, a harsh, grating sound pierced the room. Liam kicked the glass coffee table hard, his voice dripping with annoyance. “Who wants to sing with this fake squeaker anyway?” “I’m afraid her voice is gonna make my ears bleed.” My hand froze on the doorknob. My eyes went wide. Laughter erupted behind me. “I told you Liam didn’t actually like her.” Liam snapped irritably, “Just get out of here.” I took a slow, deep breath. I whipped around, grabbed a glass of beer off the table, and hurled the liquid straight at his chest. My voice was shaking with rage, pitching even higher and softer than usual. “Liam, is this how you get off? By trying to humiliate me?” The room went dead silent. The only sound was the backing track playing on the TV. I spoke clearly, emphasizing every single word: “Who do you think you are to make decisions for me? To me, you’re not even a random extra in the background of my life.” He wiped the alcohol off his face, looking pathetic, his eyes burning with fury. I pushed the door open and walked out quickly. I didn’t let myself cry until I was out the front doors of the building. My tears dried in the wind, only to be replaced by fresh ones. The bitter winter wind whipped down my collar. I pulled my pink scarf tighter and walked home with my head down. Liam initiated a unilateral cold war against me. Whenever I was working on advanced Physics competition problems, he would make snide, sour comments: “A brain like yours is only built for reading poetry.” “Do you girls even understand what those equations mean?” I would simply put my pen down and pull out my English vocabulary flashcards to memorize. Seeing that I was genuinely treating him like thin air, Liam would violently kick my desk and storm off in a rage. The class held a “Peer Review” activity. I went to the restroom, and when I came back, I found my name written on the blackboard. Next to it was a title: [The Delicate Little Squeaker Wife] My eyes went bloodshot. I ran up to the board and yelled, “Who wrote this?!” My classmates covered their mouths, snickering. Liam leaned back in his chair and raised his hand. “I did.” He taunted me, “Doesn’t that title fit you perfectly? You’re fake, you squeak…” My blood ran cold. My hands turned to ice. He started counting my flaws on his fingers. “You love to cry, and you sound like you’re moaning in bed when you talk…” I charged down the aisle like an enraged bull and slapped him across the face as hard as I could. Liam cursed loudly, his tongue poking at the inside of his cheek. “Chloe, you actually hit me…” Halfway through his sentence, he met my eyes and quickly looked away. “So fragile…” He kicked his desk in frustration and stormed out of the classroom. The people around me started whispering again. “The squeaker failed to seduce Liam…” “She’s so fake. If I were him, I wouldn’t like her either.” I bit my lip so hard I tasted blood. I spun around instantly and marched straight up to that group. “How do you know I like Liam?” They jumped, their eyes going wide. “Squeaker, what’s your problem?” I pointed to the security camera in the corner of the ceiling. “If what you just said is true, then I’m reporting you for stalking and spying on me.” “If it’s false, then you’re spreading malicious rumors.” The group’s faces cycled between red and pale. They stammered, “We didn’t say anything.” “It was just a joke…”

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When I was suffering from severe morning sickness and incontinence, Arthur was at a party playing a cherry-stem-tying kissing game with his female assistant. Even as I vomited until my stomach bled, he remained tangled up with her, deeply entwined and refusing to separate. On my way home, I was in a car accident. Just as I was lifted onto a stretcher, Arthur coldly dragged me off: “You’re tough. Stop wasting medical resources.” With that, he carried his crying female assistant onto the stretcher instead. When we arrived at the hospital, everyone rushed the assistant to the emergency room. I was the only one who walked quietly to the gynecology desk: “Hello. I’d like to schedule an abortion.” “I don’t want the baby in my stomach anymore.” … A second after I changed into the hospital gown, Arthur stormed into the room, furious. He threw a red string right at my face: “Chloe, who gave you permission to force this unlucky junk on me?!” Arthur didn’t believe in gods or spirits. Even the peace amulet I had acquired by climbing a thousand steps and bowing with each one was sneered at and tossed into the fire. I picked up the “marriage thread” that had fallen on me and said calmly: “I didn’t give this to you.” Hearing this, Arthur immediately snatched the red string back, hastily tying it around his wrist. I knew the red string was a gift from his assistant, Mia. It was a plea for a lifetime of monogamous love with Arthur. Thinking of this, I grabbed his hand. Ignoring his disgusted, defensive glare, I took the loose knot and pulled it tight. The icy chill of my fingertips made Arthur momentarily zone out. He asked me why I was wearing a hospital gown. I answered lightly: “I’m having a minor procedure later.” Arthur’s brow furrowed. He was just about to accuse me of faking an illness for attention. But the next second, a nurse walked in to draw my blood. Arthur opened his mouth, about to ask the nurse what was wrong with me, but his phone rang at the exact right moment. It was a video call from Mia. The girl whined coquettishly, complaining about how scary the hospital was at night. Hearing her, Arthur didn’t even spare me a glance as he strode out of the room. He bumped into the nurse on his way out, causing the needle to slip and blood to well up. He didn’t turn back when he heard my groan of pain. At that moment, the doctor walked in with the surgical consent form. Ignoring all the risk warnings, I signed my name without blinking. Half an hour later, the surgery was a success. As soon as I got off the operating table, I received a text from Arthur: [Wait for me at the hospital entrance.] It was snowing heavily outside. Dressed in thin clothes, I sat on a plastic chair and waited for two whole hours. He never showed up. Two nurses walked past me, laughing and gossiping about what they saw in the ER: “I’ve been working here for years, and I’ve never seen a man dote on his wife like that.” “Right? He held her and coaxed her through the entire examination. She just had a red mark on her leg, and he immediately mobilized a helicopter to transfer her to a top-tier hospital.” Hearing this, I opened our chat window and noticed Arthur had changed his profile picture. It was Nick Wilde from Zootopia wearing sunglasses. A perfect matching pair with Mia’s Judy Hopps. I exited WeChat and opened a ticketing app. Due to the weather, the earliest flight back to my hometown wasn’t for two days. I placed the order, paid, and confirmed the ticket. I walked out of the hospital and went home alone. At 3:00 AM, Arthur returned late, pushed open the bedroom door, and lay down beside me. In the pitch black, he reached out, wanting to touch my pregnant belly. I simply rolled over, giving him my back. Arthur clicked his tongue impatiently, got up, walked into the bathroom, and slammed the door shut with a loud BANG. In our nine years together, whenever he showed even the slightest hint of displeasure… I would be consumed with anxiety, chasing after him, lowering my head, and begging for peace. But tonight, when Arthur came out of the shower, he found me still lying in bed, completely unmoving. “Stop faking it.” Dropping those words, Arthur left the master bedroom with a cold face and didn’t return. The next morning, I found a wine glass stained with lipstick on the living room coffee table. I didn’t wake Arthur up and hysterically interrogate him about everything and nothing, like I would have in the past. I leisurely finished frying some egg rolls and sat down at the dining table just as Arthur woke up and said: “Don’t wait for me for dinner tonight. I have a business dinner.” He opened the fridge, chugged two mouthfuls of ice water, and… Suddenly found it strange that I neither nagged him about cold water hurting his stomach nor asked who was attending the dinner. Through the glass kitchen door, Arthur frowned at me: “Chloe, are you even listening to me?” Swallowing my food cleanly, I gave a noncommittal “Mhm” and continued eating. Seeing this, he tossed his black overcoat at me. “Your birthday present.” The coat, reeking of sweet, cloying perfume, perfectly covered my now-flat stomach. Under his gaze, I fished a gift box out of the coat pocket. I opened the box. Inside was a diamond ring. Before I could say a word, Arthur’s face darkened, and he snatched the ring back. He said: “You grabbed the wrong one. Yours is in the other pocket.” The other pocket held an emerald brooch. I just took one look at it before pushing it back toward him. Then I said politely: “The brooch is beautiful, but it’s a pity I don’t have any clothes that match it. Besides, my birthday was three months ago. You might as well give this to Mia, too.” He was speechless for a good while. Arthur said reluctantly: “There’s a jewelry auction in a couple of days. You can come with me.” This was the first time he had asked me to be his plus-one in a long while. For the past six months, Mia had been the one accompanying him to all his social gatherings. Even during yacht vacations with his childhood friends, the two of them appeared arm-in-arm in the group photos. Recalling this, I felt utterly bored with it all. “No need. I don’t need anything.” “Are you sure?” I nodded: “It’s best if you have Mia accompany you.” My genuine words were met with an instantly blackened expression from Arthur: “Chloe, go to the bathroom and look in the mirror right now. Take a good look at how pathetic your jealous, bitter face is.” In the past, if he said that, I would definitely have gotten into a massive fight with him. But now, I couldn’t be bothered to argue a single syllable. Just as I was about to get up and go back to my room, Arthur’s phone rang. It was a custom ringtone for Mia. The girl was crying hysterically, saying she forgot her keys when she took out the trash. What should I do, Arthur? “You little dummy. Be a good girl, stay right there, and don’t run around. I’m coming over to bring you the spare key now.” Hanging up, Arthur immediately turned to leave. But I called out to stop him. “That scarf you asked me to knit last week is finished and hanging on the coat rack. Don’t forget to take it to her.” Arthur’s expression shifted slightly. His mouth moved as if he were about to say something. But then Mia sent another voice message. She meowed like a little cat, begging her “master” to bring her a bubble tea on his way. Because of this, Arthur emptied the shopping bag hanging on the rack, stuffed the scarf inside, and left with a smirk on his face. I glanced at the baby clothes discarded on the floor, stood up, and walked into the study. Ignoring the framed photo of Arthur and Mia on the mahogany desk. I moved with clear purpose toward the safe. I tried Arthur’s birthday, then mine. Incorrect. I tried our anniversary. Still incorrect. It wasn’t until I entered Mia’s birthday… The lock finally clicked open. As I took out my ID and passport, two movie tickets were dragged out with them. They were the ticket stubs from my very first date with Arthur. I tore the memories to shreds and tossed them in the trash. I returned to the bedroom and started packing my personal belongings. Towards evening, Arthur called and told me to hire a courier to deliver a document for him. A blizzard was raging outside. I wrapped myself in a mink coat and went out to deliver it personally. Pushing open the restaurant door, I walked right in as Arthur and Mia were drinking cross-armed, like a newlywed couple. Because of my sudden appearance, the cheering and jeering in the restaurant abruptly stopped. Arthur glared at me, his face full of annoyance. The others watched with amusement, waiting for me to scream and throw a fit. But to everyone’s surprise, I wasn’t angry at all. I handed the document to Arthur and simply said: “Can I borrow your car keys for a second? I left something in your car.” Hearing this, Mia pulled a set of Porsche keys out of her bag, stuck her tongue out at me, and said: “I’m so sorry, Sis~ Because I love sleeping in, I’m always late for work. So Arthur just gave me his car to drive.” “Who’s your ‘Sis’? Don’t call people that, you little dummy.” Arthur’s eyes were full of indulgence as he wiped a drop of wine from the corner of Mia’s mouth. I played along with his words and said: “Mr. Sterling and I are not married. Please don’t misunderstand, Ms. Mia.” With that, I took the keys, turned to leave, but Arthur suddenly grabbed me, his expression bizarre: “Chloe, ever since you got pregnant, you’ve wanted to throw up at the mere smell of alcohol. Why are you…” I was just about to respond when Mia suddenly lost all color in her face and hugged Arthur’s arm: “Arthur, is Chloe trying to find that pearl necklace in the car? “Um… but that necklace was lost by this clumsy little me! What should we do?” The necklace Mia was talking about was an heirloom left to me by my grandmother. I heard Arthur softly comfort Mia, saying it was just a cheap necklace, lost is lost, she shouldn’t worry about it. I set the car keys down and looked at Mia without joy or anger: “He’s right. It’s just a cheap necklace I’ve worn for nine years. Since you like it so much, consider it a gift.” Walking out of the restaurant, I was about to hail a cab when Arthur chased after me. He shoved a takeout container of nourishing fish porridge into my hands, speaking with a tone of charity: “Your prenatal checkup is tomorrow. I’ll go with you.” I lied casually: “You remembered the date wrong. The checkup is the day after tomorrow.” Arthur wanted to argue, but then he saw Mia standing at the restaurant entrance. He immediately turned back, took her hands, and blew on them to keep her warm. I watched them go back inside. I, who never ate fish, fed the porridge to a stray cat and went home. That night, Arthur never came home. And I didn’t call him even once. At 5:00 PM the next day, I had just put on my coat when Arthur suddenly came home and dragged me into his car. Inside the Sterling family estate, Arthur pulled me in front of his parents: “Mom, Dad, this is Chloe.” After years of a long-distance, drawn-out relationship, Arthur was finally bringing me to meet his parents. But my reaction left him sorely disappointed. “Mr. and Mrs. Sterling, something urgent has come up. Please excuse me, I must leave.” As soon as the words left my mouth, Arthur clamped his hand around my wrist, applying silent, crushing pressure. “Mom, Dad, she’s just joking with you. You go prepare dinner; I’ll show her around and get her familiar with the place first.” I was forcefully dragged to a top-floor bedroom to begin the so-called “tour.” My constant checking of the time on my phone quickly drew Arthur’s ire: “Chloe, you’ve always begged to see the room I grew up in. Now that you’re here, why are you suddenly acting mute?” “Hmm? It’s very nice.” My evasive answer made Arthur’s brow furrow deeply. “You keep looking at your phone. Is there something interesting on it?” “No.” Even with my denial, his face remained tight. He snatched my phone and held it up to his face. The screen repeatedly showed “Face ID Failed.” Arthur asked in surprise why it couldn’t recognize him. I was just about to answer when a crisp sound echoed from the window sill behind me. The tall Arthur saw something, dropped my phone without a word, and simply vanished. Ten minutes later, following a string of silvery, girlish giggles, I found Mia in the estate’s back garden, wearing fresh flowers in her hair. She was being carefully supported by Arthur, playing a childish game of walking on tiptoes across a wooden plank. “Arthur, you have to hold me steady… Ah! Arthur, save me!” While playing, Mia’s foot slipped, and with a flushed face, she fell right into Arthur’s chest. They both froze for a second, then exchanged a flawlessly synchronized, knowing smile. The smile in Arthur’s eyes vanished completely the moment he noticed me. “Huh? Chloe, why are you here?” Mia looked at me with pure innocence, blinked a few times, and then began weakly pounding Arthur’s chest with her delicate fists: “Oh, I know! You bad boy, you finally decided to bring your ugly duckling wife home to meet the parents!” “Congratulations, Chloe!” While her mouth offered congratulations, her voice was tinged with a sob, eliciting Arthur’s pained sympathy: “It’s just one dinner, what’s there to congratulate, you silly little fool.” After comforting Mia, the look Arthur gave me was absolute ice: “Is dinner ready?” Before I could speak, dozens of long snakes suddenly dropped from the tree branches above us. As I fell to the ground in terror, Mia let out an ear-piercing scream. Seeing this, Arthur didn’t even spare me a glance; he grabbed Mia tight and fled frantically. It wasn’t until animal control arrived to catch the snakes that Arthur finally remembered me. He returned to the tree, searching high and low, only to be finally told by the front gate security guard that I had left long ago. Late at night, in the airport departure lounge. Waiting to board, my phone vibrated non-stop. It wasn’t until the very last minute before takeoff that I finally answered the call. As soon as the call connected, Arthur frantically demanded to know where I was. He had clearly gone home and found it empty. I didn’t answer him directly, only saying: “None of your business.” He froze for a second, his voice tinged with anger: “A pregnant woman throwing a tantrum is bad for the baby. Stop being so willful. Give me your address, I’m coming to pick you up right now…” Before he could finish his sentence, the sound of a wet, sticky kiss on a cheek came through the phone. Followed by Mia’s soft giggle. Arthur cleared his throat. His tone abruptly shifted, stating coldly: “Something came up at the company. Take a cab home yourself.” After saying that, he couldn’t help but add: “Text me when you get home.” After he hung up. I opened our chat and, exactly as he requested, sent a message: [Arthur, let’s break up. I sincerely wish you and Mia a long, happy life together.] The moment the message showed as “Read,” I blocked all his contact info and turned off my phone… “Auntie Chloe, here! Over here!” As soon as I got off the plane, I spotted my little niece enthusiastically waving her hand in the crowd. I scooped her up with a beaming smile and said to my sister: “It’s the middle of the night. I told you guys you didn’t need to pick me up.” “You think I wanted to? It’s this precious niece of yours who wouldn’t stop crying to see her silly auntie.” My sister reached out and hugged me. Out of the corner of her eye, she caught a glimpse of my flat stomach, her eyes filling with heartache. Just as I was about to comfort her, she preemptively pinched my cheek, fiercely complaining that I was as skinny as a rail. “Starting tomorrow, a bowl of fish maw and pork trotter soup every single day. Even if you hate it, you have to drink it. Non-negotiable.” “Okay, okay, whatever you say. You are my one and only sister, after all.” I sniffled, holding my niece, got into my sister’s car, and the three of us drove home, laughing and chatting. Even though it was 4:00 AM, my parents were still waiting in the living room. Only after confirming my sister and I were safely home, and watching me drink my favorite childhood honey iced tea, did they finally smile and go back to their room to sleep. After washing up, I lay in bed. Despite my usual insomnia, I fell asleep deeply within minutes. No pain, no more hesitation. Because I had finally returned to my true home. On my third day back, my parents booked a private room at a restaurant and invited all our relatives to welcome me home. Just as my welcome-home dinner was in full swing, filled with laughter and joy, a delivery driver arrived at the door and called out my name. My niece, who often fetches takeout for her mom, trotted over, grabbed the package, and skipped back to me. Having already learned how to read, she said in her sweet, babyish voice: “Auntie, it’s from a Mr. Sterling…” After thinking for a long while, I finally opened the box. Inside was a brand new smartphone. Just as I was thoroughly confused by this, the phone suddenly rang. Faced with the concerned looks from my family, I instinctively picked up the phone and walked to a quiet corner. I hesitated for a good while before pressing answer. Arthur’s voice was as cold as ever: “Chloe, why didn’t you tell me you went back to your parents’ house?” I asked him back: “Why should I tell you?” After a moment of silence, Arthur deliberately softened his tone and said: “I tried calling you from several different numbers, but your phone was always off… I was worried about you.” Having specifically set my phone to reject all unknown numbers, I blinked: “Just because of that, you used illegal methods to track me down, and even had a cheap phone delivered right in front of my family?” I couldn’t help but ask: “Arthur, are you mentally ill?” In all our years together, he had never received a single word of criticism or insult from me. Even through the phone, I could imagine just how ugly his expression must be right now. But despite that, he didn’t hang up. “Chloe, you know my personality. My patience is limited. You’d better know when to quit while you’re ahead…” Interrupting his nonsense, I asked impatiently what exactly he wanted to say. Taking a deep breath, Arthur said in a low voice: “For the sake of the baby, I won’t hold this little runaway stunt against you. I’ve already bought you a ticket back for next week. Mia and I will pick you up at the airport.” Hearing this, I almost burst out laughing: “What baby? The baby in my stomach has been gone for a long time.” I heard the sound of something shattering on the floor from Arthur’s end: “Chloe! How dare you joke about our child like that?!” Lowering my eyes, I pulled at the corner of my mouth and said: “I’m not joking. The baby is really gone. And I truly want to break up with you…”

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My husband, Arthur, was in a car crash. He was severely injured and on the brink of death. The doctors told me resuscitation efforts would be largely futile and to prepare for the worst. Oh, I was very well prepared. I waved my hand dismissively: “Let’s not trouble the hospital any further. Discontinue treatment.” They issued the death certificate, canceled his ID, and hauled him off to the crematorium. Six hours later, he was nothing but a pile of ash. I patted the urn. “Arthur, oh Arthur, you truly are a good man!” Filthy rich, dying young, and passing without a will. By law, I get two-thirds of the entire estate. Could there be anyone more considerate than Arthur? 1. My husband, Arthur, died in a car accident, leaving me a massive fortune. Is there anyone more considerate than Arthur? Thinking about how considerate he was, I naturally had to return the favor. So, I called the high-end nursing home where Arthur’s parents were vacationing and instructed the attending physician to run every single top-tier test and administer the most expensive nutritional supplements available. Losing a son is a huge blow. What if the two elderly folks couldn’t handle it? I needed to help them fortify their health in advance. And then there was his little mistress. While Arthur was alive, I turned a blind eye. Now that he’s dead, it’s time to settle scores and collect debts. I took a moving company straight to her place, waved my hand, and ordered: “Move it all!” The mistress wasn’t home, which made things perfectly convenient for me. Everything was sealed up, packed wholesale, and hauled away. By the time we retreated, the only thing left in the apartment besides her personal hygiene items was a bed. I didn’t want that; it disgusted me. The haul was truly substantial. I spent an entire night sorting through it, picking out what I wanted and selling the rest for scrap. The old man from the scrap yard had just hauled the junk away when the police showed up at my door. “Chloe Vance? Someone reported you for burglary!” “Officers, I’m innocent! I am a law-abiding citizen!” “We’ll see about that. Come with us to the station to answer a few questions.” Of course I went. I didn’t steal anything, so what was there to be afraid of? When I arrived, the first person I saw was Mia. The moment she saw me, she jumped up and started screaming: “Chloe, you thief! How dare you steal my things!” Watching her jump around so violently while seven months pregnant made me frown. Out of the goodness of my heart, I warned her, “Careful with your movements. If you jump so hard you lose the baby, don’t try to pin it on me!” “How dare you curse my baby!” Mia simply wouldn’t listen to reason. When I told her to calm down, she actually got more aggressive and even tried to hit me. What could I do? Naturally, I sought help from the police! I quickly ducked behind an officer. “Officer, help! She’s trying to use her baby to frame me! You have to be my witnesses! Protect me!” The officers on duty managed to pull Mia away, looking at me with incredibly complicated expressions. I asked, “Are you guys amazed by my exceptional legal awareness? Were you just about to praise me for avoiding being framed? No need for thanks; learning the law is every citizen’s duty!” Their expressions grew even more complicated. They said, “Everyone sit down. Let’s clarify this theft accusation first.” I was led into a small interrogation room. The officer looked stern: “Last night at 8:00 PM, what were you doing at the Grand Horizon Apartments?” “Moving.” “Moving? Was it your property to move?!” He slammed the table and threw down a stack of photos. “The homeowner has pressed charges against you! You have some nerve, bringing a moving company with you. Did you think you were filming a movie?!” I guess they had never seen anyone as arrogant as me; they were almost laughing out of sheer frustration. “But the apartment is mine.” I started pulling documents out of my bag: “Deed, land use permit, bank transfer receipts, my ID… Take a look, is anything missing?” Now it was the interrogator’s turn to be dumbfounded. He checked the documents word by word until he finally confirmed that yes, I was indeed the homeowner. They brought Mia in, along with the property manager, and asked, “What exactly is going on here?” The property manager said, “Ms. Mia is a resident there. I’m certain; I see her all the time.” Mia shrieked, “Chloe went to my house and stole my things!” 2. I curled my lip and sneered. “Mia, you really have some nerve. You were homeless, and Arthur and I took pity on you and let you stay in our apartment. What, does borrowing it make it yours? Check your conscience. You’ve lived there for years; have you ever paid a single cent in rent?” Mia turned pale and quickly argued, “The apartment isn’t mine, but the things inside are! Officer, Chloe stole my things!” “You have the audacity to say that?” Smack. I slapped another stack of receipts onto the table. “Officer, here is the renovation invoice, the furniture purchase orders, and the payment records. You can cross-reference them with the items.” After speaking politely to the officers, I turned to Mia: “Before moving, I already threw out all your dirty clothes and smelly socks. Out of all the furniture, appliances, and cabinets I moved, which one has your name on it?” The officer glared at Mia. “You claim she stole your belongings. Make a list of exactly what you lost.” Mia grabbed a pen, gritting her teeth, preparing to write. I sneered from the sidelines, “Mia, you haven’t worked in four or five years. I’m genuinely curious: as a broke, unemployed woman, what exactly could you have lost of any value?” Mia’s face instantly went stark white. She held the pen, but couldn’t manage to write a single word. I sat there, perfectly relaxed. Of course I knew what was in that apartment. Six months ago, Arthur had started preparing to divorce me, transferring assets like a rat hoarding food. He funneled a massive amount of cash through several shell accounts, converted it all into gold bars, and locked them in a safe in that apartment. The safe was hidden inside a built-in storage cabinet. I had already found it last night and moved it to a very secure location. I wasn’t afraid of Mia writing it down; the problem was, even if she did, who would believe her? A woman who had to beg for a place to live, suddenly possessing a hoard of gold bars? Who did she think she was fooling? In the end, Mia slinked away, claiming she was too flustered seeing the messy room and hadn’t realized her personal belongings had already been taken out by me. The police gave Mia a stern lecture. She gritted her teeth, swallowing her anger, unable to say a word. I was also reprimanded for not notifying the resident before moving, causing a misunderstanding and wasting police resources. I immediately apologized profusely and promised it would never happen again. Mia and I walked out of the police station together. I officially gave her notice: “I’m selling that apartment. I’m giving you three days to pack up and get out. Otherwise, start paying rent: $5,000 a month.” “Are you trying to rob me?!” Mia exploded in anger. I gave her a side-eye. “The Grand Horizon Apartments. A massive penthouse in a prime location. You think rent there is less than $5,000? Why don’t you look it up online?” Mia, of course, knew I was telling the truth. She ground her teeth and hissed, “Chloe, don’t get cocky. I’m going to tell Arthur exactly what you did. Just wait until he comes looking for you!” “Oh, really?” I smiled. “You’ve probably already called him, haven’t you? Did he answer?” Mia’s expression shifted, her grip tightening on her phone. My smile grew wider. Out of the goodness of my heart, I told her, “No need to keep trying. He won’t answer. Right now, he’s just a pile of ash.” Mia let out a piercing scream. “Chloe, how can you be so vicious?! You’re cursing him to die! You two loved each other for so many years; he’s your husband!” I covered my ears, frowning deeply. I waited until she finished screaming before speaking: “Oh, so you do know he’s my husband. Then why are you getting so worked up? Don’t you believe me? Go check the news; there should be reports about the car crash yesterday morning at 10 AM. Also, here’s a copy of his cremation receipt. You can go ask the crematorium yourself.” 3. I shoved the paper into Mia’s hand, decisively got into my car, and drove away. Behind me, I heard Mia’s shrill screams, and in the rearview mirror, I saw her clutch her stomach and collapse. I pulled out my phone, intending to dial 911, but then decided against it. We were right outside a police station; someone there would call for her. Who knows, maybe a squad car would take her directly. That would save the cost of an ambulance. I felt incredibly kind, saving precious medical resources. Returning home, I turned off my phone, took a shower, had a wonderful meal, and went to sleep. I was woken up by a call from the complex security guard. “Ms. Vance, there’s a couple outside claiming to be your parents-in-law. They want to see you.” Through the intercom, I could hear my mother-in-law’s furious screaming: “Chloe, you heartless bitch! Arthur had barely died, and you had him cremated! Why wouldn’t you let us see him one last time?! You venomous snake, get out here!” I dug at my ear with a finger and said, “Not seeing them.” The house I was living in wasn’t the one I shared with Arthur; I bought this one myself. The security guards had no idea who Arthur’s parents were. I turned off the intercom and checked my phone. Sure enough, there were hundreds of missed calls and texts. I deleted them all with one click and turned the phone off again. The next morning, the police were at my door again. “Someone has accused you of murder. Please come with us.” “I’m innocent! I am a law-abiding citizen!” I immediately cried foul again. The officer’s eye twitched. “Just come with us to answer some questions first.” I obediently went along. I hadn’t murdered anyone, so why should I be afraid of answering some questions? When I arrived, the first person I saw was Mia again, sitting with my parents-in-law—Arthur’s parents. The moment his mother saw me, she lunged at me: “Chloe, you venomous snake! You wouldn’t even let me see my son one last time! You’ll die a horrible death!” Seeing her jumping around so energetically, I felt incredibly gratified. All those expensive nutritional IVs at the nursing home really paid off. Out of the goodness of my heart, I showed my concern: “Mom, jump a little lighter. If your old bones fall apart, don’t try to blame it on me.” “You killed my son, and now you dare curse me!” Arthur’s mother and Mia really were cut from the same cloth. Completely deaf to reason, wailing like banshees as she tried to tackle me. What could I do? Naturally, I sought help from the police! “Officers, help!” I quickly ducked behind a policeman. “She’s using her status as my mother-in-law to attack me! This is domestic violence! Domestic violence is illegal! Protect me quickly!” The officers managed to pull Arthur’s mother away, giving me that incredibly complicated look again. I asked, “Are you guys impressed by my extensive legal knowledge? I even know about domestic violence! No need for thanks; spreading legal awareness is my civic duty!” Their expressions grew even more complicated. They said, “Everyone sit down. They’ve accused you of being involved in a murder. Let’s clarify the murder allegations first.” I was led into the small interrogation room. The interrogator looked stern and tossed a piece of paper onto the table: “Your in-laws provided the accident report for your husband, Arthur. It states the cause of the crash was brake failure. They are accusing you of tampering with the brakes. What do you have to say about this?” “Yes, they’re spouting nonsense!” I immediately defended myself, feeling a deep sympathy for the officers: “Officers, my in-laws are elderly and don’t understand the law. Did they just come in here causing a scene without a shred of evidence, demanding you lock me up?” The interrogator’s expression froze. My sympathy deepened. 4. They glared at me fiercely and continued, “Your mother-in-law claims you were responsible for the maintenance of Arthur’s car, taking it in once a month. The last scheduled maintenance date was exactly three days before the crash. Are you saying you didn’t notice anything wrong with the brakes?” I looked at them earnestly. “I didn’t take it in for maintenance this month. Something came up and delayed me.” The interrogator pressed on: “What delayed you? Think carefully before you answer. If you have nothing to hide, why did you have Arthur cremated so quickly? According to our investigation, less than six hours passed between his time of death and cremation!” He stared at me sharply. I had to admit, this was indeed the most suspicious point. If there was no foul play, why did I turn Arthur into a pile of ash so quickly? I looked back at him just as earnestly and asked, “Officer, do you need to pick an auspicious date for a cremation?” A heavy silence filled the air. Only my face radiated pure sincerity. “Answer the question!” one officer played bad cop. “Just answer what’s asked. Don’t answer a question with a question!” The other officer played good cop: “If you don’t explain this clearly, it’s going to look very bad for you. It’s best if you cooperate and help us clear things up. Didn’t you say you’re a law-abiding citizen?” I could ignore the other comments, but could I ignore an appeal to my “law-abiding citizen” status? I had to tell the truth. “Because I was sick of him! I supported him when he started with nothing, and now that he’s successful, that bastard actually wanted to divorce me! Three days ago, I was about to drive his car to the shop for maintenance, but that bastard came home and picked a massive fight with me, so I didn’t go. Now that he’s dead, what am I supposed to do, keep his corpse around for the holidays?! If the law allowed it, I’d use his ashes as fertilizer to grow weeds!” The officers scrutinized my face carefully and finally determined I wasn’t lying. They had been waiting for me to make excuses; they hadn’t expected me to be so blunt. I even offered proof: “Officers, if you don’t believe me, go ask our property management. Our complex has security cameras. I even beat Arthur out the door; they all know about it.” They brought in my in-laws and Mia. As soon as Mia walked in, she demanded, “Officers, did you find the proof? Chloe murdered Arthur, didn’t she?!” An officer glared at her. “What does this have to do with you? What is your relationship to Arthur?” Mia choked, her face flushing bright red. She looked pitifully at Arthur’s mother: “Auntie…” “This… this is my goddaughter! Arthur’s godsister!” Arthur’s mother stubbornly declared. “The law doesn’t recognize ‘god-relatives.’ You have no legal relation to Arthur. Stop trying to insert yourself into every situation.” Mia’s face turned livid, unable to speak a single word. The police had called the property management to confirm and pulled the security footage. On the day the car was due for maintenance, Arthur had indeed come home and fought with me. Dozens of people saw me throwing things at him to chase him out. “The fact that the car wasn’t maintained was caused by your son’s own actions. While the cremation was swift, all procedures were entirely legal. Reporting to the police is your right, but filing false accusations without any evidence is a crime, and the law will hold you accountable. Understood?” Arthur’s mother didn’t care what the police said. Hearing that I wasn’t responsible, she tried to lunge at me again. “Chloe, you monster! You wouldn’t even let me see my son one last time!” Practice makes perfect; I swiftly ducked behind an officer again. “Mom, let’s get things straight. It’s not that I wouldn’t let you see him. Arthur fell from a cliff over a hundred feet high. He was smashed to a bloody pulp. I almost threw up looking at it. Could I let you see that? What if you had a heart attack from the shock? Then our family would have to plan two funerals! I was doing it for your own good!” “You dare curse me to die!” Arthur’s mother and Mia really must be biological mother and daughter; they even used the exact same phrases. While blocking Arthur’s mother, the officer on duty glared at me. “Can you stop talking?” Absolutely! I clamped my mouth shut, demonstrating my unwavering cooperation with law enforcement. 5. Arthur’s mother kept causing a scene until the police finally threatened to arrest her for disturbing the peace. Only then did she stop. When we walked out of the station, she was still glaring at me. I ignored her and turned to Mia: “Did you move out yet? I’m putting the house on the market.” “Chloe, you’re too cruel!” Mia immediately turned to Arthur’s mother to cry. Arthur’s mother didn’t know what was going on. After listening to Mia’s tearful explanation, she put her hands on her hips and screamed at me, “What right do you have to kick Mia out?! That’s my son’s house, and I say she can live there!” “That’s your son’s and my house. Now that your son is dead, it’s considered his estate. I own two-thirds, and you and Dad combined only own one-third. How about I section off the bathroom and the balcony for her to live in?” I enthusiastically explained, “Mia, you know that house. The balcony is a 270-degree wrap-around panoramic style. It’s definitely big enough to account for one-third of the square footage. I’ll even throw in the bathroom for free.” Arthur’s mother looked like she was about to pass out from anger, pointing a bony, trembling finger at me for a long time without speaking. I couldn’t be bothered being polite to this old hag. I bypassed her and issued my final ultimatum to Mia: “Tomorrow is the last day. If you don’t move out, I’m changing the locks. If you can’t get your stuff out then, that’s your problem!” “Auntie, what am I going to do?! I’m heavily pregnant…” Mia cried, looking truly pathetic. Arthur’s mother’s face turned purple with rage. She grabbed Mia’s hand to comfort her: “Don’t worry! With your condition, it’s not suitable for you to live just anywhere. Come live with me at the nursing home! There will be people to take care of you there!” Like a show of force, she grabbed Mia’s hand and strutted past me arrogantly. Mia even looked back to shoot me a smug look. I hopped into my car, a massive grin spreading across my face. Perfect! Brilliant! That nursing home was far from cheap. I genuinely hoped they’d stay there forever. I called the attending physician at the nursing home: “My in-laws brought someone new, a pregnant woman. She’s very precious. You must take excellent care of her. Run whatever tests you want, and give her the absolute best food and amenities!” Back home, I hired an at-home beautician for a luxurious spa treatment, drank some wine, ate a steak, and got my beauty sleep. In passing, I also mailed them the legal breakdown of the estate division. Early the next morning, I was woken up by a letter from a lawyer: “Ms. Chloe Vance, regarding the legal division of Mr. Arthur Sterling’s estate, Ms. Mia asserts that the child in her womb is also entitled to a share. Ms. Mia has filed a lawsuit with the court. Please appear in court on time.” Hey, court appearances! I survived a murder accusation; am I supposed to be scared of splitting some cash? I arrived at court perfectly on time. Mia, showing off her pregnant belly, proclaimed: “The baby in my stomach is Arthur’s flesh and blood. He deserves a share of the estate.” Me: “Really? I don’t believe it.” “Why wouldn’t you believe it?! This is Arthur’s child in my stomach!” “Show the proof,” I smiled brightly. “Ever heard of a paternity test? Produce one, and I guarantee you won’t be shorted a single cent.” Mia’s face instantly turned livid, her voice cracking: “How dare you say that! You burned Arthur into a pile of ash! Where am I supposed to get a paternity test now?!” I dragged out my response, “Oh… so you don’t have one.” I turned to the judge, looking utterly sincere: “Your Honor, she doesn’t have a paternity test. On what grounds is she filing this lawsuit?” The judge frowned deeply. “Are you just making a mockery of this court?” Mia quickly said, “I have other proof! Arthur’s parents can testify!” Arthur’s mother immediately chimed in: “My son Arthur and Mia were together! I know this child is my eldest grandson!” I sighed helplessly. “Mom, please learn some basic legal facts. Without a paternity test, no one can prove a son is his father’s son. Except for Arthur himself, no one else’s testimony matters.” 6. Arthur’s mother was completely lost by my “father and son” talk, unable to process it immediately. Then, Arthur’s father spoke up. “You just want a paternity test, right? We have one!” Saying that, he submitted a document. As the judge reviewed the report, Arthur’s father proudly stated: “This is the genetic testing between myself and the child in Mia’s womb. It proves we are biologically related. I only have one son, Arthur. The child in Mia’s womb must be my son’s flesh and blood.” The judge, who had been reading, put the report down upon hearing this. “Evidence is invalid.” Arthur’s father’s temper flared, and he started yelling: “Why isn’t it valid?! We did the paternity test! It clearly states the child and I share a bloodline…” “Dad, please calm down~” I helped the judge maintain order: “As I just said, it’s a paternity test. Do you know what paternity means? It means father and son. Unless it’s Arthur’s own test, no one else’s is valid. Furthermore…” I smiled. “Are you absolutely certain Arthur is your only son?” Arthur’s father was stunned by my question. I directly slapped a massive stack of documents in front of the judge. While the judge reviewed them, I explained with a distressed expression. “You shouldn’t air dirty laundry in public, and originally, I didn’t want to say anything. But my father-in-law forced my hand. My in-laws actually had a decent relationship, but that was before their son got rich. Once my father-in-law started getting money from Arthur, he got involved in quite a few scandals. He was rumored to be involved with the older ladies from the plaza dancing group, and our whole family once caught him in the act in an apartment. I even had to bail him out of the police station once. The charge was solicitation, you know what I mean… If you look closely, the bail receipt is in that pile…” Arthur’s father’s face had long since turned purple, swelling up like a bruised liver. I asked him with utmost sincerity, “Dad, are you really sure you didn’t leave Arthur a half-brother running around somewhere…” “You’re talking nonsense! I was always very careful!” “Oh…” I nodded understandingly, completely unfazed. But my mother-in-law lost her mind. “You shameless old goat!” She lunged at my father-in-law and started beating him. “When did you get arrested?! I didn’t even know! You actually did something so shameless!” The experienced judge, thoroughly annoyed by the chaos in the courtroom, had to call the bailiffs to get the situation under control. Arthur’s father, humiliated and furious but forced to suppress his anger, reasoned with Arthur’s mother: “We can talk about this when we get home! Aren’t we trying to fight for our grandson’s inheritance right now?!” Arthur’s mother snapped back to reality, realizing she had almost ruined their case. The judge sternly gave them a legal lecture—explaining the burden of proof, the evidentiary value of documents, etc., etc. It all boiled down to one sentence: without Arthur’s paternity test, no matter how much they talked, they couldn’t prove the child in Mia’s stomach was Arthur’s. Arthur’s mother’s face turned ashen. Then, Mia suddenly ran over, aggressively rubbed her eyes to simulate crying, and wailed at me: “Chloe, I know Arthur and I wronged you. But he’s passed away. The child in my stomach is his final bloodline. After being married for so long, do you really have the heart to leave nothing for his only flesh and blood?” Mia was still somewhat clever. She knew that as long as I admitted it, the judge wouldn’t interfere. I said, “Oh, how pitiful~” Her eyes, along with those of Arthur’s parents, instantly lit up as they stared at me collectively. I said, “I don’t believe it.” Leaving the courthouse that day was a bit dicey; all three of them tried to attack me. But courthouses have bailiffs, don’t they? A place of law and order—why would I be scared? Back home, I continued eating and drinking well, and even found time to go on a vacation. As soon as I got back, the court came knocking again. “Are you Chloe Vance? Your parents-in-law are suing you for concealing your husband’s estate. They have submitted a complaint to the court. Please appear in court on time.” Hey, court appearances! I’d already done it once. First time strangers, second time friends. What was there to fear? When the day arrived, I showed up perfectly on time. My in-laws had wised up this time and hired a lawyer. What a coincidence, so did I. We’re dividing assets; how could I not hire a lawyer? Even if I scored a perfect 100% on my SAT math, I couldn’t calculate that much money!

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