When I was four, I was finally found by my biological parents and brought to a hillside mansion that looked like a palace. It was my first time being escorted by bodyguards. The fake heiress, wearing an exquisite tutu dress and a hair clip worth thousands, walked up to me and asked, “Are you the daughter of Mrs. Davis, the cleaning lady?” She looked so innocent and pure. Based on the personality my adoptive parents had beaten into me, I should have been terrified and completely overwhelmed by the grand scene. But… sorry to disappoint. I’ve been reborn. 1 I opened my eyes. Outside the car window, the scenery blurred past. Aside from me, curled up tiny on the plush leather seat, there was only a bodyguard in a black suit and sunglasses in the driver’s seat. I stared blankly out the window. My eyes held no childlike innocence, only a hint of boredom. I couldn’t understand why a chance at rebirth was given to me, someone with absolutely zero desire to live. Let’s see… I tried to recall. In my past life, I think I committed… suicide? Yeah, I think so! The car sped along, following the exact trajectory of my past life, heading toward the place that had trapped me forever. The mansion oozed luxury from every corner; only those at the pinnacle of high society had the right to live here. Inside resided the happiest family of four: a father who was an immensely powerful CEO, a mother who was a beautiful and elegant socialite, a gentle and handsome brother who doted on his sister, and an innocent, obedient younger sister who was the apple of everyone’s eye. The family adored their youngest daughter so much that they couldn’t bear to send her to preschool until she was four. Ironically, it was during her admission health checkup that they discovered the shocking truth: the precious jewel they had loved with all their hearts for four years wasn’t biologically theirs! Their true biological daughter had been swapped at birth and had spent the last four years living in a backward, remote fishing village. Although it was hard to accept, the wealthy parents immediately brought their biological daughter back from the fishing village. What they couldn’t foresee was that later on, for the sake of the fake heiress, they would say to this returned daughter: “You are so vicious! I wish you had just died out there!” The brother, who was always warm and gentle to everything, would shield the fake heiress, glaring warily at his own biological sister, and warn her: “Learn to be forgiving.” The fiancé, arranged since childhood and whom she had barely met, would look at her with eyes full of disgust. From the moment she was found, everyone thought the fake heiress was better, more obedient, and more pitiful. The true heiress, who seemingly returned to a life of luxury, lived her entire life being compared, despised, and framed. Desperate for love, destroyed by it. I felt a warm, wet sensation on my cheeks. Tears. But I didn’t feel a shred of sadness. I tried to jumpstart my dull, numb brain. After a long moment, I could only curse this body for being so dramatic. I remembered a voice whispering in my ear right before I fell into darkness in my past life: “The protagonist’s halo cannot be fought…” Cannot be fought? If it can’t be fought, then why let me be reborn? Didn’t you get enough entertainment watching me act like a pathetic, trapped beast in my past life? Or did you think my past life wasn’t laughable enough? The car was completely silent. No one gave me an answer. 2 I was brought inside the mansion. Richard and Eleanor Sterling were already waiting on the sofa, with their nine-year-old son, Oliver, beside them. Perhaps they hadn’t anticipated it, but no one had changed me into clean clothes before bringing me here. I was still wearing the filthy, worn-out undergarments handed down from my adoptive parents’ older son. On my feet were a pair of dirty sandals with the soles peeling off. My dry, yellowish hair was matted into clumps. I didn’t miss the flash of surprise and complex emotion in their eyes. I didn’t know if they were disgusted by my clothes or by me. “Mommy~” From the spiral staircase, a girl wearing a tutu dress and sparkly hair clips in her slightly curled hair walked down step by step, closely followed by a nanny. Her dress was truly beautiful—bright colors with delicate embroidery of little bunnies and flowers. See! In an instant, she drew everyone’s attention. I have to admit, in my past life, I secretly envied Mia too. Even while I ridiculously tried to put on airs as the true heiress, I envied her. Her parents loved her, so much that they swapped me out to give her a better life. My parents loved her too; barely anyone knew she was fake until right before I died. My brother loved her and favored her constantly. Everyone who was supposed to be mine loved her… I was the only one who hated her. 3 My name is Chloe Sterling. Before my biological parents found me, my name was Chloe Fisher. Because I lived in a fishing village, they stuck “Fisher” in my name as if it were the most natural thing in the world, and I had no choice. Later, Richard Sterling changed my last name, giving me a name that meant “beautiful and intelligent.” I was so happy, like a dusty pearl finally wiped clean and plucked from the mud. Only later did I realize the meaning didn’t matter, only how it sounded. In their eyes, I was just an “extra”—superfluous no matter where I was. My lifelong nemesis was named Mia Sterling. The name meant “lotus rising from the water,” a beautiful wish and hope chosen by Richard and Eleanor together. Everything she had, before and even later, was originally mine. She was manipulative, but her disguises were clumsy, easily seen through with a single glance. Yet, I still couldn’t beat her. The ending was that I lost. I didn’t want to fight anymore. I was tired. I could no longer feel any joy from the tiny scraps of attention they occasionally threw my way. “Mia!” Eleanor instinctively stood up from the sofa and walked toward her. Then, remembering something, she stopped and cast a complex look at the nanny behind Mia. The nanny lowered her head awkwardly. Mia walked toward me. Like natural enemies, she noticed me immediately. Or maybe my attire was just too conspicuous among these wealthy people. I looked like a little beggar; even her nanny was dressed better than I was. She rubbed her slightly red eyes, as if she had just been crying, her tone somewhat innocent: “Who are you? Are you the daughter of Mrs. Davis, the cleaning lady?” The exact same words. Before Richard and the others could react, the people in the room watched us like an audience at a play. What did I do in my past life? Oh. In my past life, I was so terrified I plopped right down on the floor. Amidst my panic, I couldn’t help but think how soft the floor was. It was covered in a beautiful rug, softer than the sand after high tide. First impressions are crucial. Mia had a massive, inherent advantage. From our very first meeting in my past life, I lost spectacularly. She was pale, chubby, and adorable, while I was sallow, emaciated, petty, and annoying. Tears fell from my eyes, plop, plop. My voice was tiny and timid: “Did my mommy sell me here? She said if I wasn’t a good girl, she would sell me. “Chloe is a good girl.” I suppressed my sobs, trying my best to show the audience the image of a pitiful little girl who was scared but trying hard to be brave. Mia loved using this trick. It instantly aroused everyone’s sympathy, as if she were the most pitiful person in the whole world. I despised it in my past life, but now, I found it quite fun. She was never smart to begin with, and her tricks weren’t clever. Relying on that so-called “protagonist’s halo,” she received endless, mindless favoritism, causing me to suffer untold grievances. Now, I wanted her to taste that feeling for herself. Fighting fire with fire, isn’t that right? From the sofa, I heard Eleanor’s heartbroken sobs. I thought with self-loathing: Is she really that sad? Could she guess that one day she would become one of the straws that broke my back? Forcing me to watch as my belongings were slowly taken over by Mia. I looked at Mia in front of me; her focus seemed entirely on me. A hint of a smile flashed across her lips. My pitiful state gave her pleasure. Like a princess, she looked down at me, skinnier and smaller than her, and said condescendingly, “You’re so pitiful. I’ll talk to my mommy later, and you can be my little maid from now on.” I laughed inwardly at her clownish behavior, waiting for the real decision-maker to arrive. 4 “Nonsense!” A woman in her forties, looking regal and elegant, walked in through the doorway. An assistant carrying a briefcase stood beside her. The moment she spoke, the grand hall fell silent. Even my mother stopped sobbing. “Grandma~” With a sweet voice, Mia lifted her skirt and trotted over. It was obvious she was highly favored by her grandmother. But to her dismay, the elder she adored walked right past her and crouched down in front of the girl she considered a little beggar. Grandma stroked my dry, yellowish hair, her smile incredibly kind: “What’s your name?” I dropped my previous act, my gaze very calm. “My name is Chloe Fisher.” I pointed at Mia, who was standing a few steps ahead of me: “Did you bring me here to be her little maid?” I suddenly started crying as if I had suffered a massive grievance: “Can I refuse? I don’t want to be someone’s little maid.” “The money my mommy got for selling me… I’ll pay you back double when I grow up.” I choked back a sob. In my past life, she was the only person not bewitched by Mia’s protagonist halo. She was also the one who paid attention to my growth, saw my progress, and praised me. Of course! I wasn’t narcissistic enough to believe I could defeat Mia’s protagonist halo. It was just that Grandma prioritized family bloodlines and interests above all else. She would spoil you because you had Sterling blood, and she would abandon you if you didn’t. To firmly grasp this singular source of attention, I desperately tried to grow into the person she wanted me to be. Even so, I still couldn’t match the weight Mia held in everyone’s hearts, and I still fell into Mia’s clumsily constructed traps. I think, in the end, she must have been disappointed too… “Good child. Of course, Grandma wouldn’t let you be a little maid. Do you know? You are Grandma’s biological granddaughter. You are the little princess of our Sterling family!” she declared solemnly. She was saying this for me, but also for everyone else in the living room to hear. “Grandma! Waaah~ I am your granddaughter!” Mia ran over and threw her arms around her. The assistant instinctively pulled her away, and she struggled, crying even more hysterically. Eleanor covered her mouth, crying as if her heart was broken. Grandma stood up, took my hand, and led me to the sofa: “Chloe is a child of our Sterling family. The paternity test results show a 99% probability of biological relationship.” The assistant let go of Mia and took the paternity test report out of the briefcase. Mia seized the opportunity to run to Eleanor’s side, and Eleanor hugged her, crying sorrowfully. I felt absolutely nothing inside. In my past life, scenes like this played out frequently in the house. The result was always complaints directed at me, telling me to accommodate her, asking why I couldn’t be more generous since Mia was so pitiful. Actually, they were just resenting me for being the biological daughter, getting in the way of the deep mother-daughter bond between Eleanor and Mia. “Our Sterling family bloodline has been wandering outside for four years. The incident of the babies being swapped back then looks suspicious to me. If it was a mistake, we can’t pursue it. But if it was intentional, our family won’t be made fools of.” She glanced at Mia, who was shrinking back. “Furthermore, Chloe has suffered so much out there in Mia’s place. I don’t care about scandals. Pick a good date, announce this to the public, and let Chloe regain her rightful identity as soon as possible. “Richard, you are the father. You make the decision.” The man sitting on the sofa, who had been silent the whole time, nodded, his stern expression unwavering. He glanced at his wife: “I agree. I’ll have someone handle it in the next few days. During this time, let little… Chloe rest and recover at home. “As for Mia…” Grandma cut him off: “Even though our Sterling family can easily afford to raise another child, the situation between Chloe and Mia is awkward. Mia has also occupied Chloe’s place for so many years, enjoying everything that was meant for her. It’s best if she returns to where she belongs.” “Whether that Fisher couple did something despicable back then is still unclear. But regardless of what they did, the child is innocent. Our Sterling family isn’t heartless. We can provide Mia with some financial assistance, enough for her to live comfortably for the rest of her life.” She turned to look at me, her decision swift and resolute: “While the children are still young, it’s better to get things back on track early.” Mia, nestled in Eleanor’s arms, half-understood, but she knew they were going to send her away. She cried and screamed, begging her parents not to abandon her, not to send her away, promising she would be a good girl and eat all her food from now on. Oliver stood by her side, gently patting her back to comfort her. I stared at the filthy sandals on my feet, feeling absolutely no anticipation. I already knew the ending to this farce. Eleanor couldn’t bear Mia’s heart-wrenching cries and desperate attempts to please her. Richard was a deeply devoted husband, naturally inclined to accommodate his wife’s wishes. In the end, Mia stayed in the house. It wasn’t even difficult; we lived together under the guise of being fraternal twins. In status, one was the eldest daughter of the Sterling family, and the other was the second daughter. Eleanor looked at me guiltily, then looked down reluctantly at Mia in her arms. “Mom, how about… we keep Mia? She’s the daughter I painstakingly raised for four years. “These four years represent over a thousand days of mother-daughter bonding. I didn’t know Mia… wasn’t my daughter. I always believed she was mine. I gave her the very best… “This mistake shows that Mia and our family have a destiny together. It’s not like our family can’t afford to raise one more child. “Chloe… she needs time to adjust too. Wouldn’t it be better for her to have Mia as a companion?” I blinked, wanting to sneer. She’s the daughter you painstakingly raised for four years. But me, your biological daughter? Not only did I not receive your meticulous care, I suffered for four years in someone else’s place. And in the end, I’m expected to understand your ‘painstaking effort’ and generously accept you continuing to raise the thief who stole my life? Where in the world do you find such a good deal? I tugged at the hem of Grandma’s skirt beside me. She looked down at me, before she could reply to Eleanor. “I’m hot,” I said. Everyone looked at me. It was August or September, the weather was scorching. The mansion had central air conditioning set to a comfortable temperature, but I was wearing a tattered, fleece-lined inner shirt suitable for late autumn, with sleeves that were a section too long. It was safe to say that after Mia’s biological parents swapped us, they never bought me a single piece of clothing. Everything I wore were hand-me-downs from their relatives’ kids—regardless of size or gender, as long as it kept me from being naked. Hearing that I was hot, the assistant asked if he should take me to change into something else. Grandma nodded, but unexpectedly, I resisted violently. She was confused, but since there were more pressing matters at hand, she told the assistant to just roll up my sleeves a bit to help me cool off. Under everyone’s watchful eyes, the assistant rolled the sleeve up to my forearm, revealing bruises of all sizes. I don’t know who gasped. Eleanor pushed Mia away and rushed over to me, but Grandma was already in front of her, gripping my arm and interrogating me. “How did this happen? Chloe, tell Grandma, who did this?” Eleanor stood to the side, covering her mouth and crying, wanting to get closer but having no chance. 5 The Fisher couple loved abusing children. Their dissatisfaction with life made it a habit to vent their frustrations on their daughter. Sons were treasures; daughters were weeds. Especially a daughter who wasn’t even biologically theirs. They believed the baby swap would never be discovered, so they acted with impunity. “If you dare tell anyone, I’ll beat you to death.” The warning after every punishment was deeply etched into a four-year-old child’s heart. Even after being brought back by her biological parents, she didn’t dare complain. Only the maid who took care of her knew, and a snobbish maid wouldn’t cause trouble for an unfavored child. Marks on the body eventually fade. When I grew up, I regretted keeping the abuse I suffered at the Fishers’ a secret. Maybe it was fear, or maybe a tiny bit of foolish pride. At four years old, I only knew that being beaten was bad; it meant I must have done something wrong. I didn’t want my parents to see the “bad” parts of me. But now that I’ve been reborn, I refuse to suffer that grievance again. It’s time for revenge. What does a four-year-old child need pride for?! I’m not going to be the silent victim this time! I stared at those bruises: “When Chloe is bad, Mommy and Daddy punish Chloe.” A folder slammed heavily onto the marble coffee table. Richard stood up, his face flushed with anger. Mia was terrified by my injuries and burst into tears. Grandma glanced over, her brow furrowing with absolute fury: “This is a slap in the face to our Sterling family! We treated their child like a treasure, and this is how they treat Chloe, a child so young! “That settles it. I don’t want to hear another word. Send Mia back!” Send Mia back?! The pain on my body was something I had long since learned to tolerate, but the slight deviation from the plot of my past life actually made me feel a bit of satisfaction. I just wondered if Mia’s protagonist halo could still keep her here in the end. The servants moved quickly. Mia’s room was cleared out in no time. It was the second-best bedroom in the mansion, right across from Oliver’s. I pouted. Playing the pitiful victim really did work. I never got to live in that room in my past life~ Two months passed. I gained some weight, my skin became lighter and softer, and my facial features gradually emerged, inheriting the best traits of Richard and Eleanor. This was one thing I always had over Mia. But my past life taught me that beauty doesn’t guarantee favoritism. A few days after I was brought back, Grandma resolutely sent Mia back to the Fishers. Even though Eleanor hesitated, the abuse crossed Richard and Grandma’s absolute bottom line, rendering her halo ineffective. They also set about uncovering the truth of what happened years ago and sued the Fisher couple for child abuse. But I knew Mia’s departure was only temporary. Sooner or later, she would return… 6 During these two months, Eleanor treated me impeccably. After all, I was the flesh and blood she carried for ten months. She wanted to overcompensate and build a bond with me. I just went along with it, comfortably accepting everything. Even though she would sometimes accidentally call me Mia, and in quiet moments, I could see her missing the child she had raised for four years. It didn’t matter. After being reborn, I felt like a spectator watching a story unfold. I couldn’t feel the highs and lows, the joys and sorrows, too deeply. My brother, who was five years older than me, was somewhat distant. Even though he was smarter than other kids and knew how to be polite and courteous, he still couldn’t hide his emotions completely like an adult. When Eleanor brought me to him, hoping to foster a sibling bond, he would find a reasonable excuse to decline, leaving Eleanor with nothing to say. He didn’t put up a hypocritical front for me. He probably thought I was too young to understand. The resentment in his eyes made me feel like I was a bandit who had torn apart his happy family of four, the little beggar who had driven away his sister. Fine! In a way, I was. But I found pleasure in that thought. In mid-November of that year, the family threw me my very first birthday party. It was exceptionally grand, as if to make up for the birthdays I missed in previous years. It was also an occasion to publicly announce my identity. Held in Richard’s arms, I calmly accepted the blessings of various important figures. They wished me joy every year, a smooth path ahead, and a life free of worry. They praised me for being adorable and inheriting my parents’ best features. For those few short hours, I truly felt like a princess held in the palm of their hands. But… being a princess has an expiration date. I was a Cinderella whose halo would fade when the clock struck. Richard had to stay at the venue to socialize, while Eleanor suggested taking me and Oliver home early. Her eagerness gave me a hunch. It was 10:30 PM when the car arrived at the mansion. In the foyer, Eleanor let go of the hand she had been holding and hurried toward the living room. Oliver, following behind us, also dropped his usual composure. “Mia!” Mia was sitting on the sofa, wearing a white dress. She looked much more sensible. She cried timidly in Eleanor’s arms, saying how much she missed Mommy, Daddy, and her brother. “Mia, welcome home!” Hearing the joy in my brother’s voice—the brother who didn’t like me—I walked alone from the foyer to my room. Good kids go to bed early and wake up early. The next morning, Mia was already sitting obediently at the dining table. It seemed the two months of hunger at the Fishers’ had cured her of being a picky, spoiled brat. When Eleanor saw me come down, she gently picked me up and placed me on a dining chair, softly asking if I slept well last night. Oliver’s attitude had also improved; he moved the milk I couldn’t reach closer to me. Mia, sitting next to him, looked at me timidly, not a trace of her former arrogance visible. “Chloe, Mommy wants to discuss something with you. Your sister’s biological parents made a mistake and were taken to prison by the police. She has no one to take care of her and nowhere to live. Can we let her live with us?” I took a sip of the milk. I could never get used to the taste; it was too gamey to swallow. I listened quietly as Eleanor explained how pitiful Mia was. Richard had gone to the company early, and Grandma lived at the main estate. The three people at the table were eagerly waiting for my stance. I glanced at Mia’s exposed, fair arms and lowered my eyelashes: “Isn’t this something Daddy and Mommy decide?” I want to say no. I want to throw her out. I want her to be despised and looked down upon. I want her to be beaten black and blue like I was. I want her to suffer what I suffered. Would you grant my wish? Eleanor stroked my head and smiled with relief: “Chloe is so understanding. We’ll be a family of five from now on.” The Fisher couple was sent to prison by the Sterling family, and Mia was removed from the Sterling family registry. She would have no inheritance rights in the future. Grandma turned a blind eye, and Mia—no, Mia Fisher!—finally stayed as the adopted daughter of the Sterling family. I had to marvel at the power of the protagonist’s halo. I seemed to have changed a lot, yet it felt like nothing had changed at all. 7 Eleanor loved the illusion of sibling harmony and always tried to group her three children together, but I clearly couldn’t blend in. At first, Mia was well-behaved. Her biological instincts made her wary of me, so she could only subtly emphasize her presence in the house. But I still couldn’t stand her “green tea” (manipulative and innocent-acting) posturing. When acting spoiled with Eleanor, she would always sneak a glance at me, as if showing off a possession. She would chatter endlessly, deliberately mentioning where the family had traveled or what gifts her parents had given her before I came back. She was even worse with Oliver: “Brother~ Why are you only holding my hand? Sister is right here too. “Brother, you are the best brother in Mia’s heart! We’ll be siblings for life.” Listening to her made me want to throw up. I couldn’t be bothered dealing with Mia’s weak, manipulative attacks. Instead, I picked one of her many personas from my past life—the sickly, fragile “Lin Daiyu” type—and started acting it out. Medical exams obviously wouldn’t find anything wrong with me, but after suffering four years of abuse since birth, wasn’t it perfectly normal for me to be a bit frail? The constant, suffocating care followed. Grandma came from the main estate and scolded Richard and Eleanor. It scared Mia so much she hid in her room like a frightened quail, not daring to come out. After all, she had heard with her own ears when Grandma ordered her out of the house. Despite her age, Mia was already quite scheming. If nothing else, at least I didn’t have to constantly sit between them, watching Mia’s amateur manipulation and Oliver’s brainless devotion. This persona was incredibly effective. In my past life, whenever Mia wanted something or was unhappy, she would just lie in bed for a few days, and someone would eagerly deliver it to her. But this time, the one waiting for things to be delivered was me…

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During our final exams, the teacher picked up a crumpled piece of paper near the edge of my childhood friend’s desk. He stood up, looking incredibly righteous, and pointed right at me. “Mr. Harris, Chloe threw this cheat sheet at me.” I opened my mouth to explain, but Mia, sitting next to me, grabbed my arm with trembling hands. Her eyes were red. “Chloe, please don’t,” she whispered. In that moment of hesitation, I missed my only chance to defend myself. From that day on, I went from being the school’s top honors student to a cheating pariah. No one would even listen to me. Liam, my childhood friend, and Mia couldn’t wait to cut all ties with me. In our small, rural town, gossip travels fast. Even my parents, who had always been so proud of me, were pointed at and whispered about on the street. I was completely isolated, treated like a toxic disease. The school revoked my college scholarship recommendation. They cut off my financial aid. My dad’s vegetable stand suddenly had zero customers. On the day my mom got critically ill and we couldn’t afford her medical bills, Liam threw two hundred dollars at my feet and told me to drop out of school. “Keep your mouth shut. The college entrance exams are coming up. If you ruin Mia’s reputation, I swear I’ll make you regret it!” Then, I opened my eyes. I was back in the exam room during my senior year. Mr. Harris had a dark scowl on his face. He smoothed out the crumpled piece of paper and read it out loud: “Liam baby~ I don’t know how to do the last essay question, boohoo…” “Who wrote this?! Stand up!” I jolted awake at his harsh shout, realizing I had somehow traveled back in time to this exact moment. Liam turned around to look at me. Seeing my face covered in sweat and tears, a flash of pity crossed his eyes before he sighed. “Since you already guessed what happened… just take the fall for it.” And right next to me, Mia—the girl I had treated as my best friend—whispered tearfully, looking incredibly grateful: “Chloe, I promise I’ll make this up to you.” Pulling myself out of the agonizing memories of my ruined life and my family’s destruction, I stood up before Liam could say another word. “Mr. Harris! I did not throw that note! The ink on that paper is blue-black, and my pen is black, so it’s physically impossible that I wrote it. Also, the handwriting on that note is weak, messy, and uses stupid emojis. My handwriting is sharp and clean. And lastly! I’ve already finished the last essay question. Look at my test paper. There is absolutely no reason I would write that!” I held up my exam paper, explaining everything loudly, clearly, and incredibly fast. I poured out all the explanations I had desperately repeated in my past life—explanations that no one had cared to listen to. Mr. Harris looked shocked. He glanced at my perfectly filled-out exam paper. “Chloe, I never said you threw it. Why are you getting so worked up?” Only then did I realize I had completely lost my composure. Beside me, Mia’s knuckles were white from clenching her fists. She glared at me with pure resentment. Liam also looked at me with deep disappointment. What? Did they really think that just because my family was the poorest in town, I deserved to be their scapegoat?! When the exam ended, Mr. Harris announced he would launch a full investigation and severely punish the cheater. He folded the note, placed it in his notebook, and left the room. I packed my bag, planning to head back to our homeroom classroom. But before I could reach the door, someone grabbed my arm and violently yanked me backward. Liam was surprisingly strong. Ignoring the stares of the other students, he dragged me to the secluded stairwell landing. Mia followed close behind, massive tears rolling down her cheeks. “Chloe, you’re my best friend! You knew it was me! Why would you do that to me?!” I played dumb. “Huh? Mia, what are you talking about? What was you?” Mia stomped her foot in frustration. “That note! I threw it to Liam, and you clearly saw me do it!” “I didn’t see anything.” Mia opened her mouth to argue, but Liam stepped in. He gently rubbed her back, giving her a reassuring look. Then, he turned to me, his expression dead serious. “Chloe, I don’t care if you did it on purpose or not. You made a massive scene, and now Mr. Harris has the note. I’m giving you two choices.” “One: Go to Mr. Harris and confess that you wrote the note. You’re smart, figure out an excuse that makes sense.” “Two: Steal the note back from his notebook. I’m giving you until the end of the school day to fix this. If you don’t, Mia is going to lose sleep tonight because of you.” He issued his demands like an absolute dictator. Looking at him now, it was impossible to reconcile this arrogant boy with the kid I grew up with. The kid who, every Halloween, would steal two pieces of candy from his house—one for him, one for me—and we would make wishes for a better future. When did he change? Two years ago, Mia’s father was transferred to our small town to become the Vice President of the local manufacturing plant. Because of that, Mia transferred into our class. That was the first time Liam and I ever saw her. Unlike me, in my faded, hand-me-down clothes, she wore a pristine white puffer jacket. She looked as pure and flawless as an angel. Liam, myself, and almost everyone else in the class couldn’t take our eyes off her. She asked who the Class President was. Liam stood up. And from that day on, he became her desk mate. And I was moved to the very back of the classroom. I thought that from that day forward, Liam and I just had a new friend. Until the day I secretly confessed to Mia that I thought I might have a crush on Liam. That day, I completely missed the flash of disgust and mockery in her eyes… After that, I continued treating them with absolute loyalty, only to unknowingly become their personal servant. Somehow, it became an unspoken rule that any bad thing that happened was automatically my fault to bear. Looking at Liam’s self-righteous face, I asked him seriously: “Why?” His handsome eyebrows furrowed in genuine confusion. “Why what?” “Heh.” I let out a self-deprecating laugh, patiently explaining, “Liam. Mia cheated on the exam. It has absolutely nothing to do with me. Why should I cover for her?” “You—!” Mia stopped crying instantly and glared at me. “But you could have taken the blame for me! You used to be willing to do it! Why the sudden change today? You just wanted to embarrass me! You know my dad is incredibly strict. If he finds out, he’ll never forgive me!” Liam, who had been momentarily speechless, seemed to find his footing again. “Exactly! Chloe, you did it on purpose! You’re jealous of Mia, so you purposely humiliated her. You are truly toxic.” The look Liam gave me didn’t hold a single ounce of guilt. It was as if, by simply throwing the mud at me, I miraculously morphed into the sinister villain they needed me to be. “What exactly am I jealous of?” Mia practically glowed with arrogant triumph as she answered. “You’re jealous that I’m prettier than you, richer than you, and… and because Liam likes me!” “I didn’t want to tell you because I didn’t want to hurt your feelings. But today, you really crossed the line!” “Do you know how hard it was for me not to throw up when you told me you liked Liam? Look at yourself. A poor loser like you doesn’t deserve to like him!” With that, Mia grabbed Liam’s hand, eagerly staking her claim. In my past life, she definitely didn’t keep it a secret to “protect my feelings.” She kept it a secret because if I knew they were together, she would lose her free servant. By pretending we were all just “good friends,” she got to hear all my private, embarrassing secrets, just so she could mock me behind my back. “Liam, is that what you think too?” Liam’s gaze fell on me, his expression complicated. Following his eyes, I looked down at my washed-out, slightly stretched school uniform. Ah. I understood perfectly now. “Liam, I don’t like you anymore.” “And Mia, I’m done being your little servant. You made your bed, now lie in it.” I turned around and walked away without looking back. Mia’s voice echoed menacingly behind me: “Chloe, you’re going to regret this!” No, I won’t. During passing period, the way my classmates looked at me completely changed. I was all too familiar with those malicious, judgmental stares. The whispers were loud enough for me to hear. “Did you hear? Chloe only gets first place because she cheats.” “I heard! She’s been taking the top scholarship money for two years straight! That is so messed up!” “How can they give that money to someone with no morals? We need to tell the principal and make her pay it all back!” “How is she gonna pay it back? Her family is dirt poor. She probably already spent it.” “I don’t care. She needs to sell her house to pay it back, or she needs to be expelled!” Listening to their vicious chatter, it felt like they had already decided my execution. Mia sat at her desk, twirling her pen, looking at me with a mocking smirk. She thought she had already won. Just as I expected, the rumor that I was a cheater had already spread like wildfire. Even without a shred of evidence, it didn’t stop them from pouring their toxic waste all over me. After all, a lie can travel halfway around the world while the truth is still putting on its shoes. I was just about to stand up and defend myself when our homeroom teacher, Mr. Davis, called me into his office. He slammed his hand on his desk and pointed a finger right at my face. “Chloe Foster! You have completely disgraced Class 1! I can’t believe you would do something as vile as cheating on a final exam! And I heard you put on quite a theatrical performance to cover it up? Hah. Go call your father right now. I want to ask him face-to-face how he raised such a shameless daughter!” I reached into my pocket, pulled out the cheap, clunky flip phone my dad had given me, and navigated to my voice memos. “No! Mr. Davis, I didn’t cheat. Listen to this.” I hit play. Right after the exam, when Liam dragged me to the stairwell, I had secretly hit record in my pocket. Even muffled through the fabric, Mia’s voice was crystal clear. [That note! I threw it to Liam, and you clearly saw me do it!] “She admitted it! Mr. Davis, Mia is the one who cheated, not me!” In that moment, I was overwhelmingly grateful for my past trauma. Having lived through a literal death sentence caused by their lies, I was hyper-vigilant enough to gather hard evidence. Mr. Davis’s face cycled rapidly between red and white. Then, he suddenly lunged forward and snatched the phone out of my hand. “Let me see that.” When he finally handed the phone back to me, the voice memo was gone. “Why?!” I gasped. “Why what?” Mr. Davis said smoothly, leaning back in his chair. “I understand the situation now. I’ll handle it. You can go back to class.” I stood frozen in place, massive tears rolling down my face. “Why did you delete my recording?” Mr. Davis stood up and patted my shoulder with a heavy, patronizing sigh. “Let’s just drop this whole thing. Do I really need to spell it out for you? Do you know who Mia’s father is? You have absolutely nothing to fight her with.” “Even if you had proof she cheated, she wouldn’t get punished. But you? Aren’t you terrified of the retaliation?” “Alright, hurry up and go back to class. Let’s pretend I never heard that recording, and you never took it. Keep your mouth shut from now on. Do you understand?” I wiped my tears and walked out of his office. I quickly checked my phone. Then, I broke into a dead sprint, running toward the school’s broadcast room like my life depended on it. I was going to make sure every single person in this school knew exactly what they did. No one was ever going to frame me again! The freezing wind burned my throat as I ran. When I burst into the broadcast room, the student announcer, Jessica, gave me a look of pure disgust. She leaned toward Liam, who was prepping the microphone, and sneered: “Your little stalker is back. I always knew she had thick skin, but I didn’t know she was a cheater too.” “Liam, how do you attract such gross flies…” I knew Jessica had a massive crush on Liam, which was why she was always so hostile to any girl near him. But I honestly didn’t care anymore. I was only shocked by how incredibly fast the cheating rumor had spread. Liam and Mia were actively trying to ensure I could never, ever clear my name. Liam didn’t even turn around, continuing to prep his script. Seeing him ignore me, Jessica looked incredibly smug. “Are you deaf? Get out before I call security to drag you out.” I grabbed her arm, forcefully shoved her out into the hallway, and locked the heavy soundproof door. Liam finally stopped what he was doing and glared at me angrily. “What are you doing?!” Outside, Jessica started frantically pounding on the door. “Chloe! What is wrong with you?! Have you lost your mind?!” Inside, Liam saw that I wasn’t speaking, and reiterated his stance. “Chloe, we aren’t friends anymore. Please stop following me.” I stared blankly at the brand-new school uniform jacket he had draped over the back of his chair. Liam’s family was just as poor as mine. Neither of our families could afford to buy us the optional, expensive winter uniform jackets. So, I starved myself for an entire semester, saving every penny of my lunch money, and gave it all to him. That was how he afforded that jacket. Meanwhile, I had to borrow a faded, worn-out one from a senior who had already graduated… Like a woman possessed, I grabbed the jacket, violently ripping at the seams. I snatched a pair of scissors off the desk and started frantically hacking it to pieces. Liam finally lost his cool. He jumped up and charged at me, completely dropping his aloof, arrogant prince persona. But he was too late. The jacket was already shredded into a pile of jagged rags, looking infinitely worse than the hand-me-down I was wearing. I threw the ruined pile of fabric toward the door. He scrambled to pick it up, his face twisted in absolute agony. While he was distracted, I unlocked the door and delivered a swift, brutal kick directly to his backside. Liam flew forward, crashing directly into Jessica, who was still trying to push the door open. They both collapsed into a tangled heap in the hallway, yelling in pain. I slammed the door shut, locked the deadbolt again, and hit the ‘Broadcast All’ button on the console. Then, I pulled out my phone and hit play on the newest voice memo. Because my phone was an archaic, clunky flip phone, I couldn’t download Snapchat or Instagram. I couldn’t join the class group chats. I never knew what my classmates were talking about, what they liked, or who they hated. Just like right now, I knew the group chats were definitely flooded with toxic rumors about me. But I couldn’t see them, and I had no platform to defend myself. However, it was exactly because of this cheap, clunky flip phone that I was able to secretly record Mr. Davis explicitly admitting he was covering for Mia. And now, through the school’s PA system, that undeniable truth was being broadcasted into the ears of every single student and teacher on campus. … I heard the Principal was absolutely furious. He stormed into Mr. Davis’s office right as Mr. Davis was secretly calling Mia’s father to brag about how he handled the situation, heavily implying he expected a “reward” for his loyalty. He was caught red-handed and suspended on the spot. When I walked back into the classroom, the stares were still weird. The whispering hadn’t stopped. But this time, I wasn’t the target. The eye of the storm had shifted directly onto Mia. “Wow, I never would have guessed. Miss Perfect Princess is actually so… ‘Liam baby’? Ugh, that’s so cringe.” “She gets caught cheating, and then tries to force Chloe to take the fall? I used to be so jealous that Chloe was her best friend. Now I just feel bad for her. Imagine how much crap Chloe had to put up with…” “I despise cheaters. We all study our asses off for our grades, and she just spends all day doing her makeup and shopping, and now she wants to steal a college recommendation spot? Disgusting!” “Keep your voice down, what if she hears you? Her dad is the VP of the plant. What if she comes after you?” … Mia was completely ostracized. She fell from being the untouchable, beloved rich girl to being labeled a manipulative, toxic cheater that everyone actively avoided. Used to being treated like royalty, she couldn’t handle the pressure and spent the entire class sobbing loudly with her head on her desk. Only Liam stood firmly by her side, looking utterly heartbroken but completely powerless to help her. Too cowardly to confront the rest of the class, Liam targeted me instead. “Are you happy now, Chloe? Stop wasting your time. Even if you completely destroy Mia’s reputation, I will never, ever like you.” “Get over here and apologize to Mia right now.” He commanded me, his brow furrowed in righteous anger. I realized then that my previous unshakeable devotion to him was nothing but sheer, absolute blindness. Before I could even respond, the bell rang. The new substitute homeroom teacher walked in. Seeing Liam standing by my desk, glaring at me, she asked: “Liam, why aren’t you wearing your uniform jacket?” Liam froze. He probably remembered the pile of shredded fabric I left in the hallway and flushed bright red with humiliation. I glared back at him, my eyes daring him to say a single bad word about me. If he did, I was fully prepared to expose exactly how he bought that jacket in front of the whole class. Liam ultimately chickened out. He sat back down and promised the teacher he would wear it tomorrow. Liam’s family was actually much poorer than mine. His parents were farmers, but they were incredibly lazy. Their crop yields were terrible every year, and they barely scraped by. The difference between us was that everyone knew I was poor. But his poverty was a deeply buried secret. No one knew that until he was twelve, his name was actually “Billy.” He legally changed his own name to “Liam” because it sounded more elegant and sophisticated. We had studied together to test into the town’s middle school, promising each other we would work hard, get into a top university, and change our destinies. But the moment he met Mia, that goal suddenly became irrelevant. At school, Liam meticulously maintained his persona as the aloof, brilliant, wealthy scholar. He even took incredibly convoluted routes walking home just to make sure no one saw the dilapidated shack he lived in. But no one was ever going to buy him a new uniform jacket again. After cutting all ties with Mia and Liam, I threw myself entirely into my studies. Mia would frequently shoot me looks of undisguised contempt and superiority, acting as if as long as Liam cared about her, she had won the entire world. Liam, on the other hand, went from looking at me with total indifference to looking confused, hesitant, and constantly wanting to say something but stopping himself. Finally, during a passing period, Liam walked over and dropped a math workbook onto my desk. “The teacher went over this equation too fast. I didn’t understand it.” I didn’t even look up. I grabbed the notebook that was blocking my practice test and, with a flawless parabolic arc, tossed it directly into the trash can at the back of the room. “You—!” Liam’s face flushed bright red. “Chloe! That was my homework!” “Oh.” I smiled pleasantly. “I thought it was just garbage~” Looking up at Liam, I noticed he was wearing the jacket I had hacked to pieces. It had been crudely stitched back together, the patches incredibly obvious. I raised an eyebrow. “So… you gave up the rich kid act?” Right on cue, Mia walked over holding a brand-new uniform jacket in its original packaging. She looked at Liam with total devotion. “Liam, I bought this for you.” Liam put on a show of polite refusal. “Mia, I can’t accept this.” “Just take it! Didn’t you say your dad’s construction company hasn’t gotten their latest payment from a contractor yet? I totally understand. Don’t be embarrassed. Just treat me to a nice dinner once the funds clear!” I retracted my previous statement. “Liam, you really are a phenomenal actor.” Liam was so choked up he couldn’t speak. Mia immediately jumped to his defense. “What do you know, Chloe?! Liam’s dad is a major CEO! It’s totally normal for business payments to get delayed. Plus, his dad prioritizes paying his workers first, which is why their cash flow is tight right now! Do you think everyone is like your dad, selling cabbages on the street for pocket change? You are so small-minded.” I couldn’t be bothered to argue with her delusions. “Yep, you’re so right. Now, can you please take your massive, worldly perspective and walk away? You’re distracting me from studying.”

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Right before the New Year, the new transfer student started showing up constantly in front of my childhood friend and fiancé. Either she sprained her ankle, or she had a math problem she just couldn’t solve. But my fiancé was a severe germaphobe and a possessive psycho. When the transfer student intentionally hiked up her skirt and tried to fall into his arms right in front of me… He simply took a step back, coldly watching her tumble into the swimming pool, leaving her to flail in the water. “If you don’t want to live, dying is a fine option too.” 1 My childhood friend, Liam, was a germaphobe and a psycho. He couldn’t stand anyone touching him except me. When his condition was at its worst, even his parents couldn’t lay a finger on him. I was the only leash that could hold this wild dog. During my eighth-grade year, as the child of his family’s nanny, I started attending the elite private school alongside the young master. On my very first day, I walked past his classroom wearing the school uniform skirt. Some idiot decided to catcall me. The young master grabbed a chair and hurled it straight at him. Even in an elite school swarming with wealthy heirs. Liam was the undisputed top dog. When he charged out with bloodshot eyes, acting like a rabid dog… I simply stood there and softly called his name. He instantly stopped dead in his tracks. He turned around and looked at me, eyes filled with grievance. The mad dog instantly became a good boy. That same day, the news of the psycho campus idol being tamed spread throughout the school. Not long after, another saying began to circulate: If you offend Liam, Chloe might still plead for your life. If you offend Chloe, you’re looking at a dead end. It sounded a bit like something out of an anime, but it was highly accurate. This rumor persisted from middle school all the way through high school. Until our junior year, when some girl with a death wish decided to shatter it. 2 During our junior year, a transfer student joined our class. She had waist-length hair and an innocent face. The moment she appeared, she captured the attention of the entire class. Not because she was exceptionally beautiful, but because she looked so much like me. Even her aloof aura resembled mine somewhat. Liam stared at that face for a long moment. As the girl walked past us, she brushed her long hair and shot me a provocative look. It’s a pity she didn’t see it. While Liam was looking at her, his brow furrowed in utter disgust. After the first period, the teacher called me, the class president, into the office. The core message was to ask me to take good care of the new student. I nodded in agreement. When I returned to the classroom, I saw Liam waiting for me at the door, arms crossed. Seeing me, his eyes lit up, and he walked quickly toward me. The new student, Mia, happened to be walking past him. On a perfectly flat floor, her ankle miraculously twisted, and she fell with precision right toward Liam’s chest. Liam frowned and took a step back. With a loud thud. Mia hit the floor hard. Liam didn’t even spare her a glance as he quickly walked to my side. A smile played on his lips. 3 “What happened? What did the teacher want?” The woman on the floor shot me a venomous look. Remembering the teacher’s request, I sighed softly and offered her a hand. But the moment my fingertips brushed her, she threw herself back down heavily. She looked at me, tears welling in her eyes, looking as if she were about to cry. “Chloe, I just transferred here. I haven’t done anything to offend you, have I? Why are you treating me like this?” She lowered her eyes slightly. Her slender neck and smooth jawline were indeed quite pretty. Her tear-filled eyes were very pitiful and moving. The students chatting in twos and threes in the hallway all turned to look at her. She thought she had so easily seized the moral high ground. Little did she know, everyone else was just watching a joke. I had always been kind to everyone at school. Not only did I never use the “mad dog” to bite people indiscriminately, I actually frequently helped others. Otherwise, they wouldn’t have elected me class president. Liam stepped up beside me, going into full protective mode. His disgust was practically overflowing. The once-bustling hallway fell dead silent. Everyone backed away, terrified of getting caught in the crossfire. But Mia couldn’t read the room. She actually pointed at me and complained. “Liam, look at her.” Before the mad dog could escalate into a full-blown psycho, I grabbed his hand. “Let’s go. Looks like someone doesn’t need help.” Instantly, Liam’s eyes held nothing but me and our clasped hands. 4 The school had a two-hour lunch break. At noon, most students slept in their dorms. I left the dorm briefly to grab a book. As I passed the flowerbeds behind the cafeteria, I heard noises coming from inside. The young masters at this elite school played hard. Things that shouldn’t be seen happened often on campus. I wasn’t curious and even quickened my pace. But then, unexpectedly, I heard my own name. “That bitch Chloe is really in the way! Can’t you think of a way to get rid of her?” I peeked through the bushes and saw Mia sitting on a stone bench. Even more surprisingly, she was taking small bites from her lunchbox and hadn’t actually spoken out loud. Another voice, seemingly coming from nowhere, answered: “Then just gather more strategy points. Once your points are high enough, everything will be easy.” It was a slightly mature male voice, and it sounded very close. But looking around, I saw absolutely no one else near her. Adding the term “strategy points” to their conversation, I had a pretty good guess. “Didn’t you say this face is exactly Liam’s type? Why doesn’t he seem to feel anything when he looks at me?” “How do you know he feels nothing? The strategy meter clearly went up by one point.” I was genuinely surprised. I didn’t expect a mad dog like Liam to actually waver. “So what do we do next? The ‘innocent victim’ act isn’t working on him.” “Then change tactics. Men love novelty. Chloe always has that aloof, arrogant look. She probably rarely gives him any affection. You just need to act more enthusiastic.” “Fine, I’ll listen to you.” … I slipped away quietly. 5 Sure enough, that afternoon, Mia switched tactics. As soon as class ended, she ran over to our desks, clutching a workbook. Chirping like a little sparrow. The student sitting in front of us was incredibly annoyed and snapped coldly: “Are you done yet? The teacher just went over these problems. Were you not listening in class at all?” Mia flipped her hair: “Just because I listened doesn’t mean I can’t ask questions, right?” “These problems are so simple. If you listened and still don’t understand, maybe you should get your brain checked at a hospital.” “What do you know? I’m not really here to ask about the problems. I just want to talk to Liam.” She turned her head, rested her chin on her hand, and smiled at Liam. The smile was exceptionally bright, like a blooming sunflower. “Liam, I like you.” The classroom, which wasn’t very noisy to begin with, suddenly became so quiet you could hear a pin drop. Every single pair of eyes snapped toward us. Even the students who had fallen asleep were forcefully woken up to watch the drama. Liam looked at me, seemingly seeking my opinion. I turned my head away, pretending not to see. But the sound of his back teeth grinding together was incredibly clear. His voice was so cold it could freeze a person solid: “I don’t need you to like me. Get lost!” I turned my head back. Mia opened her cherry lips to speak again, but Liam just grabbed the nearest textbook and hurled it. “Do you not understand human language?” Low snickers rippled through the surrounding students. Shredding whatever little dignity Mia had left to pieces. She glared at me fiercely, stomped her foot, and stormed off. 6 The last class of the day was P.E. As soon as the bell rang, everyone rushed down to the field. Mia, still unwilling to give up, looked back at us one last time, only to be scared away by Liam’s icy glare. I slowly packed my things, waiting until everyone else had left before standing up. I had barely taken half a step when Liam grabbed my wrist and pulled me into his arms. His voice carried a hint of a whine, like a wronged puppy. “Why didn’t you look at me earlier?” “Look at you.” I lifted his chin. “Aren’t I looking at you right now?” “You’re brushing me off. I meant earlier, when she said she liked me, why didn’t you look at me?” I pretended to think about it. “Back then… you could handle it yourself, couldn’t you?” Even though he knew this wasn’t the real answer, his anger still dissipated. Or rather, he was never truly angry with me; he just needed to be coaxed. Don’t let his “mad dog” persona fool you. Underneath, he was just a pitiful dog with severe insecurity. And precisely because of that, he developed an intense possessiveness. He was terrified—terrified that someone would separate us again. “Can you let me go now?” I patted his hands resting on my waist. “You won’t leave me, right?” He stared at me, breathing heavily, his eyes desperate for an answer. I stroked his head, my tone gentle: “Of course not.” 7 During P.E. class. Mia was acting very sneakily. She wanted to get close to Liam, but was terrified of his glare. A few girls gathered around me and said: “Class Prez, shouldn’t you do something about her? This endless nonsense can’t go on.” “Mia’s only been here a day and she’s already acting like this. If you don’t step in, she’ll think she owns the place.” While they were talking, the conversation between Mia and the mature male voice continued: “Seriously, why are you chickening out? Go! This is your mission.” “Easy for you to say! That book barely missed my forehead earlier, and his eyes looked like he wanted to kill me.” “He won’t. He’s just a psycho, not a serial killer.” “Then you need to give me some time to recover! My heart is still pounding just thinking about what happened earlier.” “How are you going to accomplish anything great if you’re this timid? You can’t even complete mid-level worlds. How could I dare put you in an advanced world?” … From their conversation, I roughly deduced that Mia was a “System Host.” A common trope in web novels. Her purpose in coming to this world was to win over Liam. That mature male voice was her System, responsible for helping her. The only thing that puzzled me was why, for some reason, I could hear their conversation. “Did you guys hear an older man’s voice?” The girls next to me shook their heads. It seemed I was the only one who could hear it. Mia and her System started a pointless argument, and I shifted my focus back to the classmates around me. They were actually still discussing the previous topic. “Even though Liam only has eyes for you, Class Prez, she looks so much like you. Aren’t you afraid…” “What nonsense are you talking about? The Prez and Liam are perfectly fine.” “Oops, my bad. Don’t worry, Prez, Young Master Liam will definitely not betray you.” “Look at how cheap Mia is acting. I’m really afraid she’s going to throw herself at him.” … I turned my head and gave them my usual calm smile. “We’re all girls here. Let’s not say these speculative things.” They laughed awkwardly. “But… thank you for the warning. I’ll keep an eye out.” As I turned to leave, I crooked my finger at Liam. He immediately came trotting over happily. Where else could you find such a good dog?

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I used to be a proud, broke idealist. All I wanted was Elias’s love. But after he blacklisted me from the industry once, I learned my lesson. I obediently accepted every resource and role he threw my way. I just stopped loving him. Later, he got into a serious car accident and was hospitalized. I flew back from Fashion Week abroad and went straight to my film set. When he finally recovered and was discharged, he cornered me against a doorframe, his eyes bloodshot. “I was in a car crash…” I looked at him, my expression unreadable, and stayed silent. He gritted his teeth, his eyes filled with raw, undisguised hurt. “And you didn’t come to see me… not even once.” 01 I always knew Elias Thorne and I were from two completely different worlds. I always felt like I shouldn’t accept the resources he offered me. I wanted us to be a normal couple. He was my boyfriend, and I was his girlfriend. I loved him, and he loved me. But eventually, he was the one who personally tore my fantasy to shreds. On the tenth day of being blacklisted by Elias, my manager, Brenda, knocked on my door, her face a picture of frustrated disappointment. When I opened the door, her anger visibly faltered at the sight of my haggard appearance. She closed her eyes, let out a heavy sigh, and walked in. “Chloe, do you still not get it? You and Elias Thorne are not from the same world. Who is he? He’s the CEO of the Thorne Group. Who are you? You’re a celebrity with zero backing.” She sat heavily on the sofa, offering her earnest, albeit harsh, advice. I listened expressionlessly while pouring her a glass of water. “What love? Is there actually any love between you two? If he loved you, how could he blacklist you with a single word? Look at yourself. Look at what you’ve become.” She pulled a mirror from her bag and forced me to look at my own pathetic reflection. “Could I look any worse than I did that day?” My voice was hoarse, every word feeling like it was being dragged out of my throat over broken glass. I looked at my reflection with zero emotion. She knew exactly what day I meant. It was the Best Actress awards ceremony. The video of me smiling brightly as the host read the winner’s name had been trending on Twitter for days. I was so confident I was going to win. But the name called wasn’t mine. The cameras perfectly captured my devastated expression and broadcasted it on the jumbotrons. Even though I quickly recovered and forced a stiff smile while clapping, the internet mercilessly mocked me for being a sore loser. Hearing this, Brenda sighed again and continued, “I told you a long time ago, you two aren’t a match. I told you to hurry up and use your youth to get resources and connections from him, to build yourself up so you can stand on your own two feet. That’s what actually matters.” “But you’re just hopelessly romantic. You never listen. You’re going to drive me crazy…” Because I had been drinking heavily for days, my brain felt sluggish. Maybe that was why I didn’t feel a single twinge of pain in my chest. Elias and I had been together since high school. In that elite, money-drenched prep school, surviving on good grades alone without a wealthy background was incredibly difficult. But Elias became my shield. I remember one late afternoon, he was sitting next to me, casually twirling a strand of my hair while I kept my head down, writing. He suddenly leaned in, his eyes burning with intensity, and flashed a brilliant smile. “Hey, straight-A student. Want to be my girlfriend?” The bright, clear eyes of that teenage boy merged with the cold, condescending eyes of the man who looked down at me in the garden years later. “Chloe, don’t regret this.” When he said “don’t regret this,” he was referring to the moment I accidentally overheard him behind a closed door, saying that he and I would never have a future together. I had cried and broken up with him. In the past, I used my ridiculous sense of pride to maintain the illusion of equality in our love. He would often laugh and say that if I wanted a role, I just had to ask. There was no need for me to fight so exhaustingly for it. I loved burying my face in his solid chest, poking him playfully, and saying, “No way. I want to earn it with my own hard work. That way, people won’t think I’m with you for the wrong reasons.” Whenever I did that, he would just sigh helplessly and pat my head. Now, I laughed, my tears hitting the floorboards. Fuck love. … That night, I went back to the place he and I used to call “home.” Wearing a black lace slip, I sat calmly on the edge of the bed. A lot of the decorations in the room were cute and colorful. Several plush toys lay quietly on the sofa, exactly how I had left them. Every inch of this place held memories of our love. There were security cameras in the living room, and my fingerprints hadn’t been wiped from the smart lock. He knew with absolute certainty that I would come crawling back to him. Just like he told me: Chloe, you’ll regret this. He was right. I regretted it. I regretted being so stupid, demanding something as pure as love. Before long, I heard the sound of a car pulling into the driveway below. By the time I snapped out of my daze, the bedroom door had already opened. Elias, dressed in a bespoke black suit, stood in the doorway, watching me in silence. My eyelashes fluttered, Brenda’s words echoing in my ears. “People in their circle only ever marry for strategic alliances. Stop fantasizing about this so-called love. What is love? Can you eat it? Can you spend it? From the very beginning, he never planned on marrying you. Wake up, you foolish girl.” I bit my lip, stepped onto the cold floor barefoot, and walked toward him. I stopped right in front of him. I reached out and unbuttoned his suit jacket. He didn’t speak, nor did he stop me; he just looked down at me. In the past, when we fought, I would always wait for him to come home, wrap my arms around his waist, and sway him gently. “You’re not mad anymore, right? Please don’t be mad.” He was a head taller than me, so I had to stand on my tiptoes, struggling to slide his jacket off. Then, I unbuttoned his shirt, one button at a time. Revealing the firm, muscular chest and abs of a grown man. I looked up at him, meeting eyes that were now dark with desire. I leaned in and softly pressed my lips against his bare chest, then reached down to unbuckle his belt. His breathing hitched, and suddenly, my feet left the floor. He picked me up, gently laid me on the bed, and hovered over me. He kissed my forehead, his voice raspy. “Do you know what you did wrong?” Hearing this, I lowered my eyes to hide my emotions, bit my lip, and let out a soft “Mhm.” I don’t know if my obedient act pleased him, but he grabbed my hand and placed it on the cold metal buckle of his belt. He lightly bit my earlobe, his Adam’s apple bobbing. “Take it off.” 02 When everything finally settled down, I lay there listening to his even breathing. I stared blankly at the pitch-black ceiling, then reached over and removed the arm he had wrapped around me. Finally, I squeezed my eyes shut. … My comeback project was an S-tier, massive-budget historical fantasy drama. Sitting in my trailer, reading the script, I thought to myself: What the hell was I so proud of before? In the past, I always refused to please Elias—or rather, I refused to please him in exchange for resources. Even when I first debuted, starting with absolutely nothing and running between sets for extra roles, I never thought of asking him for help. I fantasized that one day, if a show of mine blew up and I became an A-list star on my own merit, maybe his family would finally accept me. But I forgot that to a wealthy, elite family, I would always just be an “actor.” No matter my status, I was just an entertainer. I was truly poor, but my pride was entirely fake. The first snow in New York arrived unusually early this year. I sat under the awning, hugging a hand warmer and reading my script. Suddenly, Brenda gasped, “Chloe, look over there.” I followed her gaze. Elias, wearing a long black overcoat, was walking through the snow, step by step, right toward me. Seeing him, I buried the coldness in my eyes, replaced it with a look of pure surprise, stood up, and ran toward him. He smiled, opening his arms to catch me in a full embrace. I looked up at him, my voice soft and sweet. “Didn’t you say you weren’t coming back until tomorrow?” He reached out, brushing the snowflakes from my hair, then leaned down to kiss the corner of my mouth. “Wanted to surprise you.” I just smiled, saying nothing. After a moment, he said, “I’m taking you out tonight.” I pulled back slightly. “But I usually shoot until midnight, and with this snow, every production is trying to…” Before I could finish, he pinched my cheek. “I already cleared it with your director.” For a second, I opened my mouth, but no words came out. Finally, I smiled and nodded. “Whatever you say.” That night, we went to a private room in an exclusive club. The faces inside were all familiar—people I had known since high school, Elias’s childhood friends who grew up in the same elite circles. In the past, I constantly craved their approval, bending over backward to please them. Now, I just sat quietly beside Elias. I couldn’t care less about the subtle, knowing glances they exchanged. A little while later, the true guest of honor arrived. A woman wearing a stunning, custom-made red evening gown with a long train walked in. It was Mia. The woman they always referred to as the future matriarch of the Thorne family. She had gone abroad for university years ago. She gave me a brief, indifferent glance before sitting down right next to Elias. One of the guys teased her, “How did you manage to get even prettier after a trip abroad?” His comment opened the floodgates, and everyone started chiming in. Mia laughed, “Oh, please, stop making fun of me.” Then she turned to Elias, her voice playful and affectionate. “Are they telling the truth, Elias?” I looked down and took a sip of my drink. I didn’t look to see Elias’s expression, but I heard him give a soft, affirmative “Mhm.” When the food arrived, I kept my head down and focused on eating. They talked about their childhood memories—things that happened long before I ever met them. In the past, I would get so upset that I couldn’t join the conversation, that I couldn’t understand their inside jokes. Not anymore. I don’t know who said it, but someone laughed, “I remember back then, Elias was always saying, ‘Mia is going to marry me and only me when we grow up.’” A dead silence fell over the room. After years in the entertainment industry, I had mastered the art of zoning out, selectively deafening myself to things I didn’t want to hear. It had become second nature. Sensing the sudden, awkward silence, I looked up in confusion. Only to crash straight into Elias’s pitch-black gaze. Having been with him for so long, I could easily read his emotions from the slightest micro-expressions. He was displeased. Though I had no idea why he was upset. Then I heard Mia’s voice. “Oh, stop talking nonsense. Can’t you see Elias’s girlfriend is sitting right here?” I kept a polite, professional smile on my face. I glanced at Mia, who looked entirely unapologetic, and felt absolutely nothing. Mostly, I just didn’t care. I hadn’t been Elias’s “girlfriend” for a long time. I was his canary. A transactional arrangement between a kept woman and her benefactor, requiring zero emotional investment. When we got back to the villa that night, Elias smelled faintly of alcohol. He was unusually rough that night, his upturned, peach-blossom eyes burning with anger. I didn’t know what he was so mad about. At first, I tried to arch my back and accommodate him, but by the end, I was crying and begging him to stop. 03 Over the next few days, I sent Elias a few texts, but he ignored them all. So I stopped trying. I focused on filming. Because the set was far away, I stayed at a hotel. One day, I was crouching on the ground making a snowman when Brenda ran over, her long puffer coat flapping, looking completely frantic. She shoved her phone in my face. The number one trending topic was: [The Billionaire and the Heiress: A Match Made in Heaven]. She clicked on it, and the first thing that popped up was a photo of a woman linking arms with a man. The background was opulent and glittering—likely some high-society gala. Mia had a classic, radiant beauty. In the photo, she wore a gold gown that perfectly hugged her curves. Her hair was elegantly swept up, and her eyes looked as soft as water. Elias wore a black tuxedo, looking tall and imposing, a faint, almost imperceptible smile on his lips. I smiled. “They really do look perfect together.” I looked away. If I hadn’t been in the picture, it probably would have been a beautiful love story. But then again, whether I was in the picture or not, they were destined to end up together. Just like in a novel, the vicious supporting female character always gets written out, and the male and female leads live happily ever after. Netizens are always obsessed with high-society drama. I don’t know who posted it, but there was also a very blurry photo floating around, claiming to be Elias and Mia. That night, after wrapping up a late shoot, I got into the van. Brenda had been holding her phone the entire ride, her brows furrowed, staring at the screen like she was trying to burn a hole through it. I leaned back and closed my eyes. Suddenly, she reached out, pointing at the blurry photo on her screen. “Is this you?” Hearing her, I slowly opened my eyes and gave it a casual glance. I froze. The heavily zoomed-in, pixelated image was taken under the monorail tracks in the city of Havenbrook. I had been filming there at the time. Elias had gone abroad because of a crisis with a foreign partnership, and ended up staying there for three months. Havenbrook was sweltering. That evening by the river, even the breeze blowing off the water felt hot. I was wearing a loose, oversized tank top, holding a mini fan, wanting to call him during my break. But afraid of interrupting his work, I just took a picture of the river view and sent it to him, telling him how beautiful and fun the city was. I was sitting on a small folding stool, looking down at my script, taking a sip of ice-cold milk tea. Suddenly, a shadow fell over my pages. I looked up in confusion. Elias was standing there in a black T-shirt, looking down at me with a smile, the evening wind ruffling his slightly curly hair. Right at that moment, the monorail roared past overhead. I jumped up excitedly and threw my arms around him. “You’re back!” “Didn’t you say it would take a few more days?” He wrapped one arm around my waist, rested his forehead against mine, and smiled, his eyes shining. “Didn’t someone say they wished they had magic so they could instantly teleport me here?” “The magic worked.” “Oh.” My ears turned red at his teasing, but after not seeing him for so long, I really, really missed him. I bit my lip, unable to hide the joy in my eyes, and motioned for him to lower his head. He chuckled softly and obediently leaned down. I smiled and asked, “Did you miss me?” He smiled back, nodding. “Mhm.” Hearing that, my eyes crinkled into crescents, and I turned my head to kiss the corner of his mouth. That was the exact moment captured in the photo. It must have been a random passerby taking a picture of the monorail, and Elias and I happened to be standing right underneath it. “Yeah,” I replied softly, turning my head to look out the window. Outside, the city was a blur of traffic and neon lights, reflecting endlessly on the glass. From seventeen to twenty-six, I truly believed we would make it to the end. I thought we would get married and have a child together. But while I was dreaming about our future, Elias had already carefully weighed his options and reached a conclusion. Marrying me wasn’t a good investment. 04 A few days later, Elias and Mia were trending again: [Thorne CEO Drops $3 Million Just to Make Heiress Smile]. By the time I saw it, I had already wrapped up filming for the day and was back at the villa. I took a shower and got into bed. When I woke up, the sky outside was pitch black. Elias had come home at some point and was sleeping with his arms wrapped around me. He was a light sleeper. When I slowly turned over, the arm around my waist tightened. He pulled me flush against his chest, his voice raspy. “You’re awake?” “Mhm.” I hummed softly, turning to face him. I smiled, opened my eyes, and rubbed my head affectionately against his neck. “Elias, Director Zhang is casting a new movie soon. I want the lead role.” His dark eyes stared at me, unreadable. “Please? Hmm?” I hugged his lean waist, looking up at him with wide, expectant eyes. Suddenly, he flipped us over, pinning me beneath him, looking at me with a half-smile that didn’t reach his eyes. I thought about it, reached up to loop my arms around his neck, stared at his lips, and was just about to kiss him. He abruptly pulled away, his face turning ice-cold. He grabbed his coat from the chair and headed straight for the door. I sat up, bewildered by his sudden mood swing. I ran barefoot across the room and hugged him from behind. I mumbled into his back, “What’s wrong? Why are you suddenly so mad?” The massive bedroom fell dead silent. Resting my head against him, I was genuinely confused. Did he get into a fight with Mia and come back here to take it out on me? “Don’t you have anything you want to ask me?” “Huh?” He turned around and asked me an even more inexplicable question, his eyes burning into mine. “Do you still love me?” “Of course I do. How could I not love you?” I lied without blinking, smiling to keep my benefactor happy. But he didn’t seem happy at all. He just pulled me into a crushing hug. Listening to the heavy, rapid beating of his heart, I heard him whisper: “Do you?” I had a few days off, but Elias still hadn’t given me a straight answer about the role I asked for. I sat on the sofa, frowning as I looked toward the staircase. Didn’t he say he would give me whatever resources I wanted, as long as it wasn’t love? If he wouldn’t even give me the lead in one movie, how could I expect anything else? If he officially got engaged to Mia, I really would be left with nothing. My eyes darted around as I suddenly remembered the photo Brenda showed me. Whether the blurry silhouette was Mia or not, the internet didn’t know, but surely the people who actually knew her could tell, right? “Brenda, can you do me a favor?” I pulled out my phone and smiled at my manager sitting across from me. “Don’t worry,” I said. “Nothing bad is going to happen.” In this industry, I had seen so many couples who started out as the envy of everyone—who never shied away from showing their love on camera or behind closed doors—only to eventually lose each other in the pursuit of fame and fortune. I suppose it was finally time for me to graduate from the school of hard knocks. When Mrs. Thorne cornered me in my dressing room, I wasn’t surprised at all. Unlike Brenda and my young assistant, whose eyes were wide with panic, I just smiled and waved them out of the room. The immaculately dressed, high-society matriarch looked me up and down with cold disdain before sitting on the sofa. She dismissed her bodyguards. “Chloe Foster?” She said my name with utter contempt. “You really are a piece of work. You even managed to fool me.” I kept my smile in place. “Ma’am, I don’t know what you mean.” “Heh.” She sneered and slapped a photo onto the table. “The woman in this picture is you, isn’t it? And you’re the one who went through all the trouble to make sure I saw it, right?” She tapped her index finger, adorned with a massive emerald ring, against the table. “Since you went out of your way to get my attention, name your price.” Mrs. Thorne’s sharp eyes locked onto me. “Your price for leaving my son.” I knew when to fold. I parted my lips slightly and spoke softly. “I want the resources to propel me to A-list status. All of them.” The dressing room fell completely silent. She smiled, but her eyes were ice-cold. “Do you believe me when I say I could make sure the name Chloe Foster ceases to exist in the entertainment industry by tomorrow morning?” “I believe you. But Elias wouldn’t let that happen. He likes me.” I curved my red-painted lips into a smile. “Ma’am, we’ve been together since we were seventeen. No matter what, he won’t just abandon me.” Hearing this, Mrs. Thorne’s face noticeably darkened. After a long pause, she said coldly, “I can agree to your terms, but you have to do one thing for me in return.” I answered quickly. “Okay.” “You aren’t even going to ask what it is?” I tilted my head. “Doesn’t the Madam want Elias to be with Mia?” She was taken aback by my bluntness, then smiled. “It really is so much easier talking to a smart person.” She elegantly picked up her designer bag. “I’ll be waiting for your good news, Ms. Foster. After all, your flight for Fashion Week leaves the day after tomorrow. Flights don’t wait.” I smirked. “Take care, Ma’am.” Compared to a woman who only wanted love, a woman who wanted money and power made this wealthy matriarch feel much more secure. 05 I don’t know if the universe was on my side, but that day, Elias’s best friend—who had been living abroad for years—returned to the country. Arthur, the guy who followed a girl overseas to study, and ended up getting his Master’s and PhD there, had finally come back. By the time I arrived at the club, most of the people had already left. Elias was lying on the sofa with his eyes half-closed, his cheeks flushed from drinking too much. Arthur was standing by the floor-to-ceiling window, talking on his phone. “Yeah, it’s almost over. I’ll be heading back soon.” Hearing his tone, I figured things had worked out well for him and the girl. After hanging up, he turned, saw me, adjusted his rimless glasses, and smiled. “Hey, Chloe. Long time no see.” I walked over to Elias and smiled gently. “Long time no see. Are you planning to stay and work here now?” “Yeah. My parents’ health hasn’t been great lately, so it’s easier to take care of them if I’m back.” He added, “Don’t be mad at Elias. He only drank because I just got back.” In the past, I hated it when Elias drank. Whenever he did, I would get angry, and eventually, he just stopped touching alcohol. Judging by Arthur’s tone, he clearly had no idea what had happened between us. But after tonight, he would. He helped me carry Elias toward the door. I smiled and said, “It’s totally normal for you guys to have a few drinks after not seeing each other for so long.” “Oh, doesn’t he have a private suite here? Let’s take him there. I’m worried his stomach will act up and he’ll throw up in the car.” This five-star hotel was owned by the Thorne Group, and Elias had a permanent penthouse suite here. “Sure.” After finally getting Elias onto the bed, I smiled and thanked Arthur. Once he left, I walked back in, sat on the edge of the bed, and quietly watched Elias sleep. Through the massive floor-to-ceiling windows, the city lights twinkled in the darkness. The room was completely silent, save for the sound of Elias’s soft breathing. His eyes were tightly shut, his hair falling messily across his forehead, giving him a rare look of innocent obedience. I looked down and laughed softly. “If seventeen-year-old Chloe and Elias could see us now, how do you think they’d react?” Only silence answered me. I continued talking to myself. “They’d probably be really, really sad. After all…” I slowly moved my gaze over his face. “We really did love each other once.” “But Elias, remember this: you were the one who gave up on us first. Everything I’m doing now is just to make sure my nine years of youth don’t look like a complete joke.” With that, I was about to stand up and leave when the previously quiet Elias suddenly became restless, softly calling my name. “Chloe… Chloe…” I looked at him, expressionlessly took off the couple’s ring we bought in college, tossed it into the trash can, and walked toward the door. When I reached the handle, my hand hesitated for a fraction of a second before I yanked it open. Standing outside was Mia, looking every bit the victor. Her perfectly made-up face broke into a triumphant smile. “Chloe, I told you. You two were never going to make it to the end.” In high school, when Mia found out Elias and I were dating, her first reaction wasn’t anger. It was an absolute, condescending certainty. She looked down her nose at me, her eyes full of mockery and disdain. “Chloe, you two aren’t going to make it to the end.” Teenage love is always reckless and passionate. Back then, I didn’t care about a single word she said. But to the me of today, Mia had been right. When you’re young, the massive chasm between social classes isn’t as glaringly obvious. But as you grow up and enter the real world, staring up at the towering skyscrapers of wealth and power… after the initial confusion and vertigo fade, all that’s left is an endless, ravenous hunger. A hunger for money. A hunger for power. The desire to climb to the top of the pyramid and look down on everything else. “Wishing you both a lifetime of happiness,” I said, stepping aside. She walked straight past me into the room. As she passed, she flashed a sweet smile. “Thank you. I suppose we won’t be inviting you to the wedding, then.” I walked out of the hotel. The company van had been waiting for a long time. In the early hours of the morning, I boarded my flight overseas.

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In the sixth year of my secret crush on my childhood best friend, he fell for my roommate. I played his wingman, listening to him pour his heart out about his lovesickness. In return, he told me, “Chloe, whatever you do, please never fall in love with me.” At a party, he publicly confessed his feelings to her. My roommate’s eyes, holding a mockingly ambiguous smile, swept over me. “I don’t date guys who are entangled with other girls.” The gazes of everyone around pierced me like needles. Ethan anxiously tried to explain, “Chloe and I are just…” I raised my hand, smiling as I showed off the couple’s ring on my finger. “I’ve actually had a boyfriend for a while now.” 1 Mia went clubbing with some other people tonight. I was scrolling through my phone, looking at her freshly posted Instagram story from three minutes ago. Under the hazy, ambiguous club lights, she was sandwiched between a group of young, attractive guys and girls. And she still managed to look stunningly out of place. Ethan sat on the bench by the campus lake. Looking as depressed as a dog with drooping ears. “…I asked her to hang out, and she said no…” “And then I turn around and see she posted this story tonight…” The air by the artificial lake at night was a bit chilly. Couples strolled by in twos and threes. I shot Ethan an annoyed look. “And so, this is your excuse for dragging me out of the library?” Ethan looked up. The young man was blessed with good looks—charming, slightly tilted eyes, thin lips. He had a face that naturally looked like a playboy’s, yet he was surprisingly devoted. In twenty years, the only person he ever fell hard for was Mia. The corners of his eyes were slightly red as he pitifully threw himself at me, hugging me: “Chloe, Chloe…” “I know you’re the best to me… With our dozen years of friendship… you’ll definitely help me, right?” My entire body went rigid. Ethan remained completely oblivious, rubbing against me like a giant golden retriever: “Please… Chloe.” “…” I pushed him away with one hand. “Stop getting so handsy.” “Hey…” Ethan blinked, his charming eyes looking somewhat innocent: “We’re friends, right?” “Friends forever.” 2 Friends my ass. I had ulterior motives. They say a rabbit doesn’t eat the grass near its burrow. But I just had to go and fall in love with my childhood best friend. Ethan and I had known each other since we were kids. Childhood sweethearts, inseparable. He stuck to me, and I stuck to him. As we grew older, the boy gradually shot up and filled out. His features became increasingly handsome, his height and long legs more pronounced. A lot of girls at school chased after him. Ethan had that playboy look, the kind of guy who seemed like he could have a whole platoon of girlfriends. But in reality, other than me, he hadn’t even held another girl’s hand. Every time someone confessed to him, he would just smile, his eyes curving, and reject them. Said he was innocent. But occasionally, this guy would drop some incredibly romantic lines. For example, when I asked him why he never accepted any girls’ confessions. Ethan took a sip of milk, casually threw his arm around my shoulder. The fresh scent of his body wash, mixed with the sweetness of strawberry milk, lingered near my nose. He grinned and said: “None of them are as good as you, Chloe.” “If I absolutely have to like someone, I’ll just like you.” I only remember my ears turning bright red. I feigned composure and told him to stop talking nonsense. But inside, my heart felt like carbonated bubbles rising in a soda. In that instant, I felt so happy I thought I might burst. —I thought we had plenty of time. Time enough to stay by his side and wait for him to finally realize his feelings. I never anticipated… That he would fall in love at first sight with my roommate, Mia. 3 “I got it.” I said, “I’ll help you.” Ethan immediately smiled, his eyes curving into crescents: “You’re the best, Chloe!” I pushed him away. “It’s getting late. I need to head back to the dorm.” “Okay.” Ethan obediently let go. “Be careful on the way.” He didn’t walk me back. The campus at night was much quieter than during the day. I was walking slowly down the path when someone unexpectedly pulled me into a dark corner. The crisp, woody scent of the person’s cologne enveloped me as I was wrapped inside their leather jacket. A slightly higher body temperature transferred to me in an instant. “Seeing my girlfriend hugging and cuddling with her roommate by the lake late at night.” “Little Bird, don’t you think I should submit this to the campus confession page?” Liam’s voice was lazy, his warm breath brushing against the top of my head. “Go ahead, then.” I buried my face in his chest. Liam chuckled lightly and dropped a kiss on my forehead: “I can’t bear to.” “So even if you cheat on me, I guess I’ll just have to accept it.” “You’re crazy.” I pinched his waist. 4 Dating Liam was purely an accident. He was always the “big man on campus,” and I only knew him in passing. Liam’s looks were absolutely on par with Ethan’s. But this guy gave off a vibe that was far too flirtatious. Like a fox. His eyes looked full of affection, yet somehow devoid of it at the same time. But even so, his heartlessness was captivating. Acting as Ethan’s wingman, I set up a hangout and brought Mia along. Young men and women, drinking and playing games—the atmosphere quickly heated up. I had a few drinks and went to the restroom to sober up. When I came back, the private room was empty. My stomach felt awful. I crouched by the entrance of the bar, calling Ethan’s number. I called seven or eight times, but he didn’t answer. I sent a message to Mia. She replied quickly with a voice note: “I drank too much and wanted some BBQ from Southside. Ethan took me.” “Sorry, forgot to tell you.” The female voice sounded completely nonchalant. In the background, I could hear Ethan’s joyful voice: “Mia, I waited in line and got…” I was so angry I almost threw my phone. When I looked up, I saw Liam leaning against the doorframe, watching me. The young man was tall with long legs. Looking down at me, his fox-like eyes curved into a smile. “I…” “You look really pretty.” Liam smiled, his eyes crinkling. “Want to date?” “…” I think I was drunk, otherwise, I definitely would have stood up and punched him. Maybe it was the alcohol, maybe it was the heartbreak, or maybe it was just that Liam was really good-looking. “I have someone I like.” “That’s fine.” The young man’s tone was amused, his eyes alluring. “I don’t mind.” “…Alright then.” I thought at the time. I’d just treat it as a fling. 5 And so, we “played” for three months. Existing in a bizarre yet stable state. We kissed and hugged like a real couple, but it felt like neither of us was truly invested. Liam liked my face. And my heart belonged to someone else. The kind of situation where, if posted anonymously online, would get us cursed out for two hundred comments as a trashy couple. I admit, I was pathetic. The only thing in this world that can turn a person pathetic, requiring immense effort with zero reward, is love. But if it were that easy to let go… It wouldn’t be called love. Liam walked me to my dorm building. I was wearing his jacket and wanted to take it off to return it. He gripped my shoulder and smiled. “Give it back to me later. It’s cold in the stairwell.” I didn’t refuse. Liam kissed my cheek. “Are you free tomorrow?” I shook my head. “Tomorrow I’m being Ethan’s wingman again.” The curve of Liam’s lips deepened, his fingertips pinching my cheek: “…You really aren’t afraid of me getting jealous.” The young man leaned in, using his height to create a slight sense of pressure. But then, like a puppy, he gave my cheek a light bite. “The day after tomorrow, you’re mine.” “…Okay.” Sometimes I felt like Liam and I were truly weirdos. Clearly not in love. Yet acting exactly like any other couple deeply in love. Because we didn’t love each other. We never fought. It made things even more stable. 6 Mia finally rushed back just before lights-out. Catching a glimpse of the jacket hanging by my bed, she gave a half-smile: “Out on a date?” “Yeah.” I put my phone face down. On the screen, Ethan had just sent a pitiful-looking sticker. “With Ethan?” “No, with my boyfriend.” Mia let out a soft scoff, clearly not believing me. “Are you free tomorrow?” I spoke up. “Ethan said he found a nice lounge. It’s really pretty, and it would go perfectly with that dress you bought recently.” Mia put her bag on her desk and looked at me, her eyes carrying a hint of mockery and condescending pity: “You’re really pathetic, Chloe.” I suppressed the irritation flaring in my chest. “…Playing wingman for the guy you like, enduring my sarcasm.” “You even invented a fake boyfriend… Tell me, does Ethan know?” Mia’s eyes curved into crescents. Carrying a natural malice. But even so, she was still damn gorgeous. “Or maybe…” “Is this your new tactic to get his attention?” “…Mia.” My tone turned a bit cold. Mia smiled: “Just a joke, what’s the rush?” “I’ll go.” 7 My hands clenched and unclenched. Finally, I yanked the bed curtain shut, blocking out her face. My WeChat was pinging non-stop. I picked it up and saw several messages. Ethan: — How did it go? How did it go? — She’s back, right? Was she tired from hanging out today? — If she’s tired, it’s totally fine if she doesn’t want to come tomorrow… — Did she… I replied with one line: — She said yes. A flood of messages instantly poured in: — Really?! — I knew you were the best, Chloe! — [Flower_giving_cat.jpg] I stared at the cute sticker of the cat offering a flower. That was the sticker pack Mia always used. I typed and deleted, typed and deleted for a long time, but ultimately didn’t reply. Outside my curtain, I could hear Mia’s soft giggles. Who knows which new guy she was on the phone with now. I took a deep breath, tossed my phone aside, and buried myself under the covers. It wasn’t the first time. Anyone with eyes could see Mia was stringing Ethan along. Especially me. The one secretly harboring a crush. In the very beginning, I had tried to warn him. Even though I knew the truth, saying it out loud always made it sound like I was just jealous and bitter. So I chose my words carefully, stammering for ages, before finally only managing to say: “Maybe… you’re just not her type.” That was the first time I saw Ethan look so serious. The sun was setting. Casting a golden halo on the side of his face. Warm. Yet exceptionally lonely. “…I know,” he said. “I know Mia doesn’t like me… and I know… she might just be stringing me along…” “But I just like her.” “And I hope that she’ll like me back.” “So, I want to try a little harder. Hard enough that she either likes me… or gives me a clear rejection.” A clean, pure, burning love. I knew I was supposed to say something right then. But those words felt like knives, slicing my heart into pieces. My throat seemed to lose its voice at the exact same moment. So, in the end. All I could offer was a dry: “Good luck.” Perhaps from that moment on. I should have known that there was no possibility left between Ethan and me. For a split second, I felt hatred. I hated him for being so open, hated him for loving so passionately, hated him for not giving me a single chance. I hated my own cowardice, hated that I loved him but couldn’t say it, hated that I was too good at pretending— At least, he had the courage to say it out loud. While I only ever dared to test the waters right at the boundary of our friendship. Never daring to take a single step forward.

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1 The father of my son’s classmate kidnapped me. He forced me to livestream myself carving off my own flesh, all to force my husband to show his face. Instantly, the entire internet was begging my husband to step forward and save me. But what they didn’t know was that the top donor in my dark-web livestream was none other than my legal husband. Right at that moment, he was on one knee at a high-end waterfront restaurant, proposing to his young mistress. The teenager cheering them on in the background was my son. And the TV in the restaurant was broadcasting the live feed of my torture. Later, I was rescued and survived. Clutching my stomach, tears streaming down my face, I looked at my husband and son. They looked back at me with pure disgust, annoyed that I had ruined the mistress’s special day. But what they didn’t know was that I wasn’t clutching a wound. I was clutching the evidence that would send them both straight to hell. 2 I was illegally detained in a dilapidated, abandoned house by the father of my son’s classmate. He forced me to start a livestream and slice my own flesh off with a knife. In just twenty minutes, a massive, gaping gash had been carved into my thigh, exposing the stark white bone underneath. The comment section exploded: “What is she doing? Is she being forced? Blink twice if you’re being threatened!” “Didn’t the title say she won’t stop until her husband shows up? Where is he?!” “Wait, is the husband trying to kill her for the insurance money?” The kidnapper, annoyed that I was moving too slowly, snatched the knife from my hand. With a swift motion, he sliced a thick chunk of flesh from my leg and held it up to the camera. It was as if he was showing off his knife skills. Fighting through the blinding agony, I gasped out an explanation to the viewers: my husband was out of the country, accompanying our son to a competition. He wasn’t in the States. Before I could finish, my phone buzzed. It was a video message from my husband’s young mistress. “Wow, this waterfront restaurant is so romantic…” “Hubby said he loves me the most. He said I’m young and know how to please him, while you’re just a washed-up, ugly housewife.” “Oh, and Leo even agreed to call me Mom! Right, Leo?” The video showed my husband, Arthur, and my son, Leo, looking at Evelyn with absolute adoration. Leo even happily chimed in, calling her “Mom.” In the background, I could see Arthur’s colleagues, friends, relatives, as well as Leo’s friends and their parents. They were all gathered for a massive celebration. Not a single one of them realized that the woman being tortured in the viral livestream was me. The kidnapper frowned in confusion. He took my phone and initiated a video call with them. When Leo saw my name on the screen, he glanced at it and immediately started mocking me: “Oh, is the ugly housewife throwing a tantrum now?” “Auntie Evelyn said you used to bully her when you were kids. You called her the maid’s daughter and stole Grandpa’s love.” “If you know what’s good for you, you’ll get on your knees and apologize to Auntie Evelyn right now. Maybe then Dad and I will actually be nice to you.” My face was deathly pale. The pain in my heart eclipsed the pain in my body. Through gritted teeth, I managed to croak out: “Leo… save me. Call the police…” “Oh, enough already,” my son rolled his eyes. “Stop playing games.” “Even if the cops come, we aren’t leaving Auntie Evelyn’s party.” Instead of hanging up, my son flipped the camera to show me the scene. Evelyn flashed a peace sign at the camera, clearly trying to provoke me: “Hey, sis. Arthur is going to propose to me in a few minutes. Do you think I should say yes? Oh my god, I’m so nervous…” It felt like an invisible hand was crushing my windpipe. I couldn’t breathe. The blood continued to pour from my leg. My body temperature was dropping rapidly. I felt myself slipping into unconsciousness. Smack! The kidnapper delivered a brutal backhand across my face. “Faking passing out? It won’t work! If your husband doesn’t show up, I’ll make you beg for death.” “If cutting your flesh doesn’t work, I’ll dig out your kidneys. If that doesn’t work, I’ll chop off your hands. And if your hands are gone, I’ll cut out your tongue.” The chat went completely insane. People were cursing the kidnapper’s lack of humanity, begging him to reconsider. But mostly, they were mobilizing, urging everyone to spread the stream to find my husband. Someone angrily commented: “Call the cops! Can anyone tracking his IP please call 911?” “To the guy above: calling the cops won’t help as much as finding the husband. This guy clearly has a massive grudge against the husband.” “If you’re a real man, go after the husband! Torturing a woman makes you a coward.” But no matter what the chat said, the kidnapper kept his focus entirely on the knife. The agony shot from my leg straight into my brain. 3 My head felt like it was going to split open. My involuntary, agonizing screams made it unbearable for the viewers to watch. The livestream donations started pouring in. Everyone in the chat begged the kidnapper to spare me in exchange for the massive tips. Just then, a live-call request popped up on the screen. “I am Arthur. Connect the call.” I let out a massive sigh of relief. Thank God. My husband finally saw it! But when the split-screen connected, the man on the other end was a stranger. The kidnapper obviously knew what Arthur looked like. Assuming he was being mocked, he gripped the knife tightly, preparing to slice into me again. Seeing this, the man on the screen quickly yelled: “Wait! I’m Mr. Vance’s paralegal. Arthur is currently busy with an event.” “Also, you’ve kidnapped the wrong woman. Mr. Vance doesn’t have a wife, he only has a girlfriend. And he’s actually proposing to her right now.” “If you have demands, state them. There’s no need to hurt an innocent person.” The kidnapper exploded in rage. He grabbed me by the hair and slammed my face toward the camera. My body was covered in deep gashes. The slightest movement tore the muscles, making me sweat profusely from the pain. But even with my body ripped to shreds, it was nothing compared to the agony in my heart. If I’m not Arthur’s wife, then who is? The kidnapper sneered. “Do you think I’m a fucking idiot? This is the biological mother of Arthur Vance’s son!” He glared at me. “Call Arthur on this stream right now. If you don’t…” He raised the knife. Hearing my terrified screams, the paralegal had no choice but to patch the call through to Arthur’s personal phone. But the person who answered was Evelyn. “Oh hubby, the diamond is so big! I’m so happy to have you and Leo… Oh wait, your phone is ringing…” Finally, my husband’s voice came through the speaker: “Hello, who is this?” The paralegal—who was actually a police negotiator in disguise—didn’t dare reveal his identity. He asked subtly: “Is your wife with you?” My husband answered without hesitation: “Yes, my wife and son are right here. Why?” The negotiator cautiously hinted that someone was claiming to have kidnapped his wife on a livestream. My husband actually laughed out loud. “Scammers are getting ridiculous these days. Grabbing some random woman and trying to extort me.” “Listen, stop wasting your time. It’s probably just two actors running a scam for stream donations. My family of three is currently at a waterfront restaurant, and I’m not leaving.” “If you’re really that worried, just ask the ‘kidnapper’ how much he wants, and pass a hat around your office to pay him off.” The negotiator pressed on. “The woman in the video is screaming in genuine agony. It doesn’t look fake. Could you please just log into the stream and verify if it’s her?” My husband paused, seemingly considering it. Just then, Evelyn let out a dramatic gasp. “Oh hubby, my stomach hurts so much! Do you think the baby is scared because we’re talking about something so bloody? It’s okay, hubby, saving someone is more important. You should go look. The baby and I will be fine.” “How could I do that? Nothing is more important than you and the baby.” My husband pulled Evelyn into a tight hug, his voice dripping with concern, and decisively rejected the negotiator: “I’m incredibly sorry, but my wife isn’t feeling well. I can’t help you…” His wife? 4 I was his legally wedded wife. But because Evelyn was younger, more shameless, and willing to spoil Leo rotten… My husband didn’t even care that Evelyn was the illegitimate daughter my father had with our former maid. He openly flaunted his affair. And now he was throwing her a massive, romantic proposal. My chest tightened painfully, like a massive boulder was crushing my lungs. On the call, the undercover cop was still desperately trying to reason with the kidnapper. It was useless. The kidnapper pinned me to the floor, his voice venomous: “If you want to blame someone, blame your sociopath son and your scumbag lawyer husband!” The knife came down again. “AHHH!” I couldn’t hold it back. My scream felt like it pierced the heavens. The blinding pain nearly sent me into shock. At that exact moment, a highly-upvoted comment pinned itself to the top of the chat. “I work with Arthur. The victim is 100% Arthur’s wife. I just texted him the stream link.” Arthur had received the link a long time ago. Then what about my son? What about our relatives and friends? Why didn’t anyone who saw the stream tell Arthur to come save me? Ignoring the blood pouring down my body, I grabbed my phone and opened the video clip Evelyn had sent me earlier. I scrutinized every single detail. And finally, I saw it. On a large TV screen mounted on the wall of that romantic restaurant… The livestream of my torture was playing for the entire party to see. The kidnapper yanked my head back, taking a sharp breath. “They’re watching this live, right there in the restaurant. And they didn’t come to save you.” “Tell me… did they not notice? Or do they just want you to die faster?” “Hahahaha…” It felt like a bolt of lightning struck me. I froze, completely forgetting the physical pain, forgetting the grief. A moment later, I lunged for my phone like a madwoman, pointing the camera directly at my face, and screamed hysterically: “Arthur! Leo! I am Leo’s mother! Look at me! Look at me!” “I am being tortured! Even if you want to cheat, even if you want a new mom, you can’t just let someone die!” “Leo, I’m your mother! I brought you into this world!” The chat went into absolute overdrive: “As a mother, I am completely breaking down watching this.” “Please, I’m begging you, let her go! She obviously has zero leverage over her husband and son!” “Are you people deaf? She isn’t his wife! The guy on the phone said his wife is the chick he’s with right now!” All over the internet, thousands of strangers were advocating for me, desperately trying to find a way to save me. But my own husband and son never showed up. It didn’t used to be like this. Before Leo turned five, we were a perfectly happy, harmonious family. But everything changed the day Evelyn appeared. 5 Evelyn used the excuse that I had monopolized our father’s love for years, demanding compensation at every turn. Sometimes it was a piece of jewelry. Sometimes a designer bag. Slowly, it evolved into private dates with Arthur, and eventually into taking Leo out on extravagant trips. Just like that, my husband and my son were stolen from me, piece by piece. I used to think that, no matter what, we were legally a family. I thought they would always have some baseline level of care for me. The kidnapper slapped me hard across the face twice, rubbing salt into my emotional wounds. “Your husband and your son threw you away.” Two of my teeth had been knocked out. My mouth was filled with blood, but I still stubbornly argued: “No… they just didn’t see the screen…” The kidnapper threw his head back and laughed. He pointed to a specific username in the chat. “Is this your husband?” The username, featuring a profile picture of Leo and Evelyn happily posing together, had just donated five massive “Rocket” tips to the stream, making him the top donor. At that exact moment, my phone buzzed with several new photos. Under a gorgeous, colorful sunset, Arthur was on one knee, holding a massive diamond ring. You could read his lips: “I love you.” Everyone around them had joyous, congratulatory smiles. Leo was wiping tears of happiness from his eyes. And in the corner of the photo, resting on a table, Arthur’s phone screen was actively playing the livestream of my torture. The exact moment of my brutalization was the exact moment of their peak happiness. Evelyn sent a barrage of texts, gloating: “Hubby said it’s best if you die out there. It saves him the hassle of dividing assets in a divorce.” “Oh, and your son said that if you don’t die, he’s going to drop out of school and work minimum wage just to support the baby in my belly.” “So do us all a favor and just die. It’d be great if you could leave a will leaving everything to Leo, so he doesn’t have to work so many shifts.” The metallic taste of blood coated my tongue. I lay sprawled on the dirty floor, letting the physical pain wash over me. “Are you furious? Does it hurt worse than death?” “I thought I was the only victim here. I didn’t realize we were in the same boat. Why don’t we team up? We can give them a massive present.” The kidnapper leaned close, whispering in my ear, while discreetly shoving a small USB drive into my hands. “The footage of your sociopath son brutally bullying my boy… and the proof of Arthur forging evidence to cover it up… it’s all on this drive. The moment this goes public, the Vance family will be destroyed.” The kidnapper’s voice grew increasingly frantic and excited, his teeth gritted as he hissed into my ear: “You brought Leo into this world. How about you be the one to destroy him? Deal?” The kidnapper forcefully shoved the USB drive directly into the open, bleeding gash on my stomach. The hard plastic dug into my flesh, sending sharp spikes of agony through my body. I processed his words in silence. The police negotiator had finally triangulated my location. Dozens of SWAT officers breached the abandoned house, with Arthur and Leo trailing far behind them. The police tackled the kidnapper and hauled him away. I lay on the floor like a puddle of mud. I let the police and paramedics step around me, their boots occasionally brushing against the pools of my blood. At one point, Arthur accidentally stepped squarely on one of my fingers—the one where the fingernail had been ripped off. I screamed in agony, but the father and son completely ignored my pain. Arthur and Leo were frantically searching the abandoned house. “The kidnapper didn’t have anything on him. The evidence has to be hidden in this room.” “Should we just burn the whole place down? That would solve everything.” “No. If investigators sift through the ashes and find…”

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The sister who had been missing for years was finally found, only to be living as the “fake heiress” in a wealthy family. On the day I went to pick her up, I witnessed her being kicked out onto the streets. “Our Sterling family has no room for a daughter as hypocritical and vicious as you. As expected, blood tells—you can never truly raise someone else’s child!” “Raising you this far is already the utmost we could do. You’ve occupied Mia’s place for so many years; it’s time to give it back.” “Stop playing the victim. What right does the cuckoo who stole the nest have to feel wronged?” “…” My biological sister was shoved to the ground. The true heiress stood off to the side, looking glamorous, a flash of jealousy and hatred in her eyes. They were waiting to see this “fake heiress” lose everything and beg for their mercy. However, her biological sister was also a genuine, bona fide billionaire. When the police called, I was in a rural village doing agricultural charity work. Hearing that my sister, who had been missing for 18 years, had been found, I stood up abruptly. Even after the call ended, I stood frozen in place, tears welling in my eyes. My assistant instinctively asked, “Ms. Hastings, what happened?” I quickly composed myself, trying my best to sound calm. “Arrange for someone else to handle the wrap-up here. I have an emergency and need to go to Capital City immediately.” After a long journey, I finally arrived at where my sister was currently living. The police had told me she was adopted by a wealthy family and had lived a good life all these years. The massive mansion before me certainly proved the family’s financial status, and the excitement of finding her cooled slightly. I had imagined many scenarios. For instance, what if my sister was very happy in this family and didn’t want to come back with me? That would be fine. As long as I could see with my own eyes that she was safe and happy, that would be enough. Despite rushing all this way, standing right on the threshold of seeing her, I actually found myself hesitating. It was the police officer beside me who nudged me forward. Before I could even approach the grand double doors, they were thrown open from the inside. The next second, a figure in a plain white dress was shoved out. She stumbled a few steps and fell to the ground. Following closely behind were several other figures. “After raising you for so many years, you actually dared to push your sister down the stairs?!” “Our Sterling family has no room for someone as hypocritical and vicious as you. Blood really does tell—you can never truly raise someone else’s child!” “Raising you this far is already the utmost we could do. You’ve occupied Mia’s place for so many years; it’s time to give it back.” “Stop playing the victim. What right does the cuckoo who stole the nest have to feel wronged?” “…” The harsh, cutting words rang clearly through the air. I stopped in my tracks, my gaze instantly locking onto the young woman who had fallen to the ground. The resemblance was striking. She looked so much like the old photos of my mother when she was young. Almost at first glance, I knew for certain she was my biological sister. The young woman on the ground was surrounded by four people. That scene didn’t show me the slightest hint that she had “lived a good life.” Among the four people surrounding her were a middle-aged couple, a young man, and a girl about my sister’s age. At that moment, the girl on the ground fought back tears and tried to defend herself: “Dad, Mom, I really didn’t push her. It was her…” Before she could finish, the young man cut in: “If you didn’t push her, are you saying Mia threw herself down the stairs just to frame you?” The disgust in his tone was palpable. “Brother, I… I really didn’t. Don’t you believe me either?” “Don’t call me brother. I only have one biological sister.” Those words hit hard. I saw the color drain from the girl on the ground after he said that. I also saw the glamorous girl, who had been silent the whole time, flash a look of triumphant satisfaction. I frowned. Didn’t they say my sister was adopted by this family? Why did it sound like she had maliciously usurped their daughter’s identity? On the way here, the police told me this family’s surname was Sterling, and they had recently found their biological daughter who went missing 18 years ago. My biological sister and their missing daughter were the exact same age. Both went missing when they were two years old. Seeing that they were entirely absorbed in their crusade against the “fake heiress” and completely ignoring our group, I finally spoke up: “Excuse me, are you throwing her out?” The group finally looked over, including my sister. “Who are you? What are you doing here?” the middle-aged man demanded, frowning. My tone was flat. “I heard you recently found your biological daughter. Congratulations.” Before they could react, I continued, “Since that’s the case, can you give my sister back to me now?” My words were like a stone dropped into a lake, instantly sending ripples across the surface. The group was completely stunned. Only the young woman on the ground looked at me in disbelief. I stepped forward and helped her up. The last time I touched my sister was 18 years ago. I had loved her so much back then. While she was still in our mother’s belly, I wished for a sister so I could share my pretty dolls with her and braid her hair the way I learned. The tear tracks on the young woman’s face were still wet as she stared intently at me. I introduced myself: “My name is Chloe Hastings. I am your biological older sister.” The police officer next to me explained the situation: “Ms. Sterling, shortly after you came to the station last time, your DNA matched with a relative in the database. This is your biological older sister. Ms. Hastings rushed here immediately upon hearing the news. We tried contacting you earlier, but you didn’t answer.” The young girl hesitated for a moment and said, “My… my phone broke two days ago, and I haven’t had a chance to buy a new one.” “What does this mean?” The man who had just declared he only had one sister became even more aggressive. “Maya Sterling, you went to the police station to look for your birth family?” Following his lead, the girl next to him chimed in: “Sister, the bond of raising a child is greater than the bond of giving birth to one. How could you just go looking for your birth family without saying a word? Mom and Dad have provided you with a life of luxury all these years. Are you being fair to them by doing this?” Then, the woman who I assumed was my sister’s adoptive mother looked me up and down. I had rushed here directly, having just finished agricultural charity work in the countryside. My clothes were ordinary, I wore no makeup, my hair was messy, and there was even some rural mud stuck to the soles of my shoes. A sharp contrast to this glamorous family. The wealthy socialite sneered, her gaze sweeping over her adopted daughter: “Maya Sterling, these are the relatives you wanted to find? Giving up the life of the Sterling family’s eldest daughter to go acknowledge these poor relatives?” Poor relatives? Me? I hadn’t even had time to learn more about my sister’s life over the past 18 years, but from this single encounter, it was glaringly obvious that this family did not treat her well. Maya, my sister, pale-faced, looked at the wealthy woman: “Mom…” Before she could even finish the word, she was cut off. “Don’t call me Mom. Since you’ve found your relatives, go with her. Our Sterling temple is too small to house an ungrateful wretch like you.” Her voice was sharp and piercing, making the girl beside me flinch. My eyes hardened, but I kept a smile on my face. “Mrs. Sterling, I’m relieved to hear you say that. I was worried you wouldn’t be able to bear parting with my sister. It seems I was overthinking.” Then, I turned to Maya and said gently, “Maya, Mom, Dad, and I have been looking for you for years. Do you want to come home with me?” Before the young girl, who had just been thrown out, could respond, the man who had acted as her brother for years scoffed coldly. “Maya Sterling, don’t blame me for not warning you. If you walk out of this house today, don’t even think about ever coming back!” And the “bullied” true heiress chimed in, sounding incredibly understanding: “Sister, you should apologize to Mom and Dad quickly. Otherwise, if the Sterling family disowns you, what kind of life will you have?” But that statement was like pouring oil on a fire. The middle-aged man, the head of the household, finally spoke up: “If she wants to leave, let her leave! After all, she doesn’t have Sterling blood. You can never truly raise someone else’s child!” Their barrage of comments helped the wavering young girl make up her mind. Her voice was very soft: “Mom, Dad… I’m leaving. Take care of yourselves from now on.” With that, she looked at me, opening her mouth, but for a moment, couldn’t quite bring herself to call me “Sister.” I patted her shoulder and asked softly, “Do you need to pack any luggage? It’s fine if you don’t. Just bring your ID. We have everything you need at home.” Maya paused for a moment, then looked down. “Okay.” She had her ID on her. Aside from the clothes on her back, she didn’t take a single thing from the Sterling family. I led her to the car, glancing back at the gloating Sterling family, and pressed my lips together. No matter what, my sister was coming back. I owned several properties in Capital City. Soon, the driver dropped Maya and me off at a high-end residential complex. As we got out of the car, I clearly felt Maya freeze for a second. She looked at me, hesitating. It wasn’t until we went upstairs and entered the luxurious penthouse apartment that she finally spoke. “Sis…ter,” she called out awkwardly. “Where is this?” I spaced out for a fraction of a second hearing that “Sister,” then smiled at her. “This is one of my apartments. Do you like it? There should still be some unsold units here. How about I buy one for you in a few days?” Maya’s mouth dropped open slightly, seemingly shocked by my words. Her worldview was clearly undergoing a rapid refresh as she looked me up and down again. I glanced at my reflection in the mirror and suddenly understood what she meant. My outfit, along with the incredibly low-key car I used to pick her up, didn’t exactly scream “wealth.” I took her by the hand to give her a tour, smiling as I asked, “What, does your sister not look rich?” “N-no,” she quickly explained. “I just… didn’t expect it.” Seeing her anxious explanation tugged at my heart. What exactly had she been through in the Sterling family all these years? How does a wealthy family raise such a sensitive, self-doubting child? But now wasn’t the time to ask about her life. I could only smile and tell her, “Your name used to be Aria. Mom and Dad thought ‘Aria’ was a good name, hoping you would be outstanding and have a bright future. Do you want to change it back?” The young girl froze again. After a moment, instead of answering, she asked, “I want to know how I got lost.” The smile froze on my lips. Even now, some memories remain grey and painful. I was 10 that year. We still lived in our hometown, and our family business hadn’t grown to its current scale. But our parents were still very busy, constantly meeting with clients. My sister and I were left with a nanny. That day, we went out to watch a street parade. It was barely a hundred yards from our house. The crowd was dense and separated my sister and me. When the crowd cleared, her tiny figure was gone. I could still hear her calling me “Sister” through the crowd just moments before. My sister’s disappearance traumatized our entire family. We searched for so long. Our parents cried constantly, and our mother developed severe depression. “Mom and Dad are already on their way. You’ll see them tomorrow.” Maya stumbled back two steps, tears shimmering in her eyes. She told me she thought she had been abandoned. After the Sterling family found their kidnapped biological daughter, she went to the police station for a blood test solely driven by a desperate need to know why she was thrown away. “How could you have been abandoned?” I reached out and stroked her head. “You are the treasure of our family.” A treasure lost and found. I have a branch office and a factory in Capital City. That evening, I took Maya to see the factory. Inside were massive stacks of brand-new packaging boxes. While she was still shocked that this brand was a family business, I pointed to the missing person notice printed on the inside of the boxes. “This is a photo of you when you were 2 years old.” Maya stared blankly at the photo and information, then looked at the towering stacks of boxes. She had probably seen this missing person notice before, but never realized it was her. The path to finding missing family is daunting. The probability of ever finding a child missing for so many years is incredibly low. In my teens, I realized that I needed sufficient power to expand our reach. So, during college, I started learning the business from my father. As his energy waned, I took over the company and steadily grew it. Perhaps the heavens were looking out for us, because I was always lucky in business. As our products sold across the country, my sister’s missing person notice spread with them. The notice was also pinned to the top of all our official corporate social media accounts. Over the years, an endless stream of people had come forward claiming to be her. I was terrified she had been trafficked into the deep mountains. Even to places where our products couldn’t reach, I would personally go there under the guise of charity work. There were some horrific possibilities we didn’t even dare to imagine. Thankfully, she was back. “We won’t need these boxes anymore. They’ll all be recycled to make new packaging, and we’ll use the opportunity to share the good news with the customers who have supported us all these years.” As I spoke, I noticed Maya staring blankly at the missing person notice on the box. Then, her tears fell, and she threw herself into my arms. She cried pitifully, as if releasing all the grievances of the past years. “They… they always told me I was thrown away…” Holding my sister, I suddenly realized she was carrying severe psychological trauma. Our parents arrived the next afternoon. When they saw my sister, their faces went blank for a few seconds, followed by a tearful, emotional reunion. Our parents weren’t even 60 yet, but their hair was entirely gray. The worry and regret of all those years had wrapped around them like sharp thorns, suffocating them. After meeting our parents, my sister told me she wanted to change her name. I paused for a moment, then smiled. “Okay. I’ll go negotiate with the Sterlings in the next few days to get your residency registration transferred…” “No need,” she said. “I was adopted by the Sterlings, but my residency was always registered under some relatives of theirs. Those relatives passed away a few years ago, so I’m currently the head of my own household registration.” I hadn’t anticipated that. It wasn’t until the private investigator reported back that I finally understood. The name “Maya” was actually the original name of their biological daughter. After their daughter went missing, they adopted a girl of the same age. Calling her by the same name—how is that any different from finding a substitute? The private investigator uncovered much more. Less than five months after their biological daughter went missing, they adopted my sister. But at that time, it hadn’t even been 30 days since my sister went missing. According to regulations, a missing child must go through a public search period of no less than 30 days before they can be adopted. Moreover, how could a child missing in Huai City be adopted by the Sterling family through a Capital City orphanage in less than a month? It reeked of corruption everywhere. Most importantly, they used my sister as a substitute for their lost daughter, but they didn’t treat her well. Even though she had the exact same name, they knew perfectly well she didn’t share their blood. Whenever they saw their adopted daughter doing well, they would think about how their biological daughter might be suffering. So, they would harshly criticize their adopted daughter, belittling her personality and abilities. After her daughter was kidnapped, Mrs. Sterling’s mental state was often unstable. During her episodes, she would even hit my sister. The two men never laid a hand on her, but they watched with cold indifference and contributed plenty of verbal abuse. I didn’t know how to describe the anger burning inside me. How innocent was my sister? My mother’s mental state had been poor ever since my sister went missing. Now, looking at her youngest daughter who had grown into an adult, she poured out everything she had saved for her over the years. Bank cards, properties in her name, and beautiful, expensive jewelry. My sister, now back to the name Aria, held the items awkwardly. She wasn’t entirely ready to accept all of this yet. I walked over, patted her shoulder, and handed her a card. “This is an unrestricted secondary card linked to my account. You can use it for your daily expenses.”

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The day after I aborted our child, Liam returned home from the military base. He brought me the newest brand of face cream, along with the official divorce papers approved by the military district. The red “APPROVED” stamp on the thin paper was as bright as blood, piercing my eyes. His face showed no guilt. His voice was freezing cold. “I wanted to wait until you had recovered to file this, but Vivian came back from abroad early, so…” The divorce was happening so fast, I almost couldn’t hide the smile threatening to break across my face. I furrowed my brows slightly to mask my amusement. “I understand. It was an arranged marriage. Forcing two people together never works out anyway.” Looking guilty, he handed me a property transfer agreement. “I know I wronged you. I’m willing to leave with nothing. You can have the house, and the thirty thousand dollars my grandfather left behind is yours too.” I took the papers casually and let out a dramatic sigh. “Since this is it, there’s no reason for us to ever see each other again. You know how deeply I loved you. If we meet again…” Liam quickly promised, “We won’t! I won’t ever bother you again.” Looking at the man who would practically kneel and swear an oath just to be with his precious first love, I smiled at him. “In that case, I wish you and Vivian a long and happy life together.” Seeing that I wasn’t going to cling to him and cause a scene, Liam let out a massive breath of relief. A smile I hadn’t seen in a very long time broke across his face. He quickly stood up and started packing his bags. This little western-style house was bought for us by his grandfather on our wedding day. It was incredibly expensive, the kind of property you couldn’t buy even if you had the cash. With him leaving it to me, plus the thirty thousand dollars, I had the perfect seed money to start my own business. Growing up, my aunt always told me, “Marriage isn’t a woman’s only way out. As long as you have the courage to hustle and push forward, your life will never be dark.” With the recent economic reforms encouraging private entrepreneurship, this was my golden opportunity to make real money. Finished packing, Liam looked at my slightly smiling face and seemed surprised. “I’m leaving. Aren’t you sad?” I dropped the smile, stood up, and handed him his last bag. “What’s there to be sad about? You’re going off to pursue your happiness, not to the executioner’s block.” Liam frowned and sighed deeply. “Chloe, you don’t have to pretend you don’t care. I understand.” “…” I forced a tight, perfunctory smile and physically pushed him toward the door. “Hurry up. Didn’t you say you have to go pick Vivian up from the train station?” Seeing me act so accommodating, a thick layer of guilt and pity clouded his eyes. “Chloe, I sincerely hope you find your own happiness.” I nodded and walked him out to the front gate. Liam’s retreating back looked lighter and more carefree than I had ever seen it. I shook off the goosebumps rising on my arms. Looking at the wild roses blooming all over the yard, and the keys in my hand, I happily slammed the iron gate shut. Finally. I’m free. After divorcing Liam, I immediately threw out everything that belonged to him. I cut off contact with all his relatives and sold my miserable job at the propaganda department to a neighbor. With all that done, I started plotting my business. Three months later, my clothing boutique opened for business. On opening day, I received a phone call that was both familiar and strange. It was familiar because, during my five years of marriage to Liam, I would occasionally get calls from this exact woman, her voice dripping with sweetness as she specifically asked for him. It was strange because I had never actually met her. She was Liam’s deeply buried, unattainable first love. Her voice was the same as always, soft and delicate. “Is this Chloe? I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to call you.” “Liam told me never to disturb your life, but I’m completely out of options…” I had heard that the very day after we divorced, Liam had already submitted a new marriage application to his superiors. I had never seen him that eager or impatient in the five years we were married. I calmly kept clicking the beads on my abacus. “If you’re out of options, what do you expect your powerless, divorced ex-wife to do about it?” Didn’t Liam know that a good ex should act like they were dead? Vivian’s voice choked with tears. “It’s… Liam got arrested by the police. The higher-ups can’t find out about this, or he’ll get a massive disciplinary mark on his record… I’m begging you to help us.” My hand paused on the abacus. How the hell was I supposed to help with that? I had no power and no connections. I was just about to snap back at her when I suddenly remembered. Oh, right. I have money. I was a 1980s millionaire. Filthy rich. I could literally bury the problem in cash! But why should I? “Sorry, Vivian. You just said yourself that Liam told you not to bother me. If I swoop in to save the day, I’m afraid it might negatively impact your newlywed bliss.” “Besides, I’m just a weak woman. I really can’t help you with something this big. You should ask someone else.” With that, I slammed the phone back onto the receiver. Liam and I were an arranged marriage, set up by our grandparents. Growing up, I was wild. I hated studying and only wanted to follow my aunt—a fashion designer—around, sketching and drawing. My parents could never control me. But Liam was different. He was the famous “golden boy” of the military compound. He was handsome, athletic, incredibly fast on the track, and had top-tier grades. I had a crush on him since we were kids. Whenever he spoke, I listened. When my parents couldn’t control me, they would send Liam to discipline me. Later, he went to a prestigious university out of state, and my aunt, defying our entire family’s wishes, took me to the coast to study design. We lost contact. I thought our paths would never cross again. But our families decided the old-generation marriage pact couldn’t be broken, and they pushed us together anyway. I still remember the day we reunited. The river water flowing under the stone bridge in Suzhou was as smooth as silk. The boy from my memory, who used to tuck his white shirt into his pants, had grown into a refined, elegant young man. My heart felt like it had been hit by a jolt of electricity, tingling and numb. That day, I asked him very seriously, “Do you really want to marry me?” He patted my head just like he did when we were kids, smiling indulgently. “What? You don’t want to marry your big brother Liam?” Of course I did. Both our families were thrilled. We got married shortly after. After the wedding, we got along perfectly. And in the bedroom, our chemistry was terrifyingly good. Except, he only ever asked if I wanted to marry him. He never told me that he actually didn’t want to marry me. In our fourth year of marriage, I found a locked storage box in our room. Inside were four exquisitely wrapped gift boxes. At first, I thought they were surprises Liam had prepared for me. But when I happily opened them, I found small note cards with someone else’s name. [I will secretly save up all my love, to give to the most beautiful white rose in my heart—Vivian.] My heart dropped. My blood instantly turned to ice. Vivian? Who was Vivian? And for whom had he been saving up four entire years of gifts? Liam was out on an overnight mission that evening. I sat on the edge of the bed and thought about it all night. Early the next morning, Liam returned, covered in dust from the road. I held the gift boxes up to his face, demanding an explanation. He looked at me, completely silent. After downing half a bottle of cheap liquor, Liam finally spoke. “She’s the girl I loved. A junior from my university.” “But it’s impossible between us. She went abroad.” Time seemed to freeze. In that moment, I felt a level of betrayal I had never experienced before. “So… that’s why you married me?” He looked down, silently confirming it. After a long time, Liam slowly raised his head and looked at me. “Aren’t things good between us right now? Why obsess over this?” A profound sense of disappointment permeated every cell in my body. I looked at the neatly organized stack of canceled stamps on the desk and let out a self-deprecating laugh. “So every time you made me rush to the post office to buy stamps… those careful, urgent letters were all for her.” Liam didn’t deny it. That day, I smashed all four of those gift boxes to pieces and threw a massive fit. From that day on, Liam and I started having frequent, prolonged cold wars. But fate has a twisted sense of humor. Three months later, I was eating sour hawthorn berries when my stomach suddenly cramped violently. After going to the hospital, I found out I was pregnant. I thought about it calmly for a long time. I didn’t want to bring a child into a miserable, loveless home. I left the ultrasound results on the table, wanting to give us one last chance to fix things. When Liam came home and saw the results, he was ecstatic. He held me tight and refused to let go. “I’m going to be a dad! I have a child! We finally have a baby!” The golden glow of the setting sun spilled through the window, illuminating his genuinely joyful face. I thought that, from that day forward, he would cut off those inappropriate feelings for the sake of our child. But Liam let me down. When I was five months pregnant, I found a fifth gift box hidden in a cabinet, along with a handwritten letter. The letter said Vivian was coming back, and Liam replied that he would always be standing in the exact same spot, waiting for her. That day, I lost completely control of my emotions. I had a hysterical, screaming match with him. Liam looked annoyed and defensive, his hand gripping the letter meant for his precious first love. I broke down crying, collapsing as a sharp pain shot through my lower abdomen. On the way to the hospital, Liam apologized profusely, the regret in his eyes growing thicker by the second. “It’s all my fault. I shouldn’t have made you angry. Chloe, hold on…” He said all the right things. But on the way to the emergency room, he still managed to sprint into the post office to mail that letter to the woman he was obsessed with. The baby was saved, but the doctor said we arrived a little too late. Because of the prolonged lack of oxygen, the child would likely suffer from severe developmental issues. Looking at Liam, who was standing there playing the innocent victim, a deep, poisonous hatred bloomed in my heart. All my suppressed emotions finally exploded. I ruthlessly grabbed anything I could reach and hurled it at him. My tears wouldn’t stop falling. “Did you hear the doctor?! Because you just had to mail a letter to your little white rose, this healthy baby… is going to be born brain-damaged.” “This is all your fault…” Liam took the physical abuse without flinching, trying to comfort me through his guilt. “It’s my fault. I was wrong. I’m so sorry, Chloe.” “You can hit me or curse me. I promise I won’t fight back.” Looking at his face, I only felt that he was incredibly fake. Absolutely disgusting. I stopped acting hysterical. When I came home from the hospital, I became incredibly submissive. I bent over backward to be good to him. I cooked for him, meticulously organized his clothes, and doted on him constantly. I lowered my pride and begged him tearfully, “Liam, I know you have someone else in your heart. I’m not forcing you to forget her. But please, don’t forget you have a wife. Don’t forget I’m waiting for you at home…” Every day, I looked at him with eager, expectant eyes, forcing him to read fairy tales to the baby in my belly. The moment he showed even a fraction of annoyance… I would force my eyes to go red and look at him like I was about to cry. “The baby and I just love you too much.” Saying those words made me physically nauseous, but they were the perfect weapon to disgust Liam. I wanted him to know that he had ruined my life, yet he couldn’t reject me. I would repeat this cycle until, eventually, he would be so repulsed by me that he would finally give me my absolute freedom. Finally, after twenty agonizing days of my relentless clinging, Liam snapped. He begged me, “Chloe, please, just let me go. I really can’t take this anymore. This isn’t the life I want.” I sneered coldly, tears brimming in my eyes. “Oh? Then what kind of life do you want?” A flash of longing crossed Liam’s eyes. His gaze landed on the envelope sitting on the table. It was a letter from his first love that had arrived that morning. I had obediently fetched it from the post office for him, and even obediently bought new stamps for his reply. He had no idea that I already knew his first love was returning soon. All my chaotic, annoying behavior over the past few weeks was just a calculated strategy to push him away faster and more securely. I viciously snatched the envelope off the table, ripped it to shreds, and threw it on the floor, breaking down into loud sobs. “Have I not been good enough to you these past five years?! Why is she the only one you ever think about?! Why can’t you just love me?!” I cried with every ounce of strength I had. Even I couldn’t tell how much of it was genuine heartbreak and how much was an act. Liam looked at me, his expression incredibly complicated. “Chloe, you’ve been very good to me. But feelings… they can’t be forced.” “Go get an abortion. Let’s… let’s get a divorce. I don’t want to string you along anymore.” I cried even harder, the tears flowing like a broken faucet. Liam’s annoyance grew visible. His voice dropped, and he finally said the words I had been waiting for. “Enough!” “I’ll leave with nothing. I’ll leave everything to you.” Unable to stand the sound of my crying for another second, he slammed the door and left. I decisively wiped away my tears and booked an appointment for the abortion. Liam had no idea I had been waiting for this exact day for a very long time. He thought that by giving up the house and his savings, he and his precious white rose could live happily ever after on his military salary and stipends. Little did he know, his “happy ever after” was about to crash and burn. … I sat in the bathtub, carefully replaying everything in my head. I thought about why Vivian would call me. She could have easily asked the other military wives for help. Why come to me? My clothing store had been wildly successful lately. I had some free time, and after Vivian called me three times in a row… I decided I wanted a front-row seat to the drama. When I arrived at the police station, the officers quickly brought Liam out to the visitation room. He looked much rougher than he did six months ago. He was unshaven, and heavy, dark bags hung under his eyes. When he saw that it was me, his eyes widened in surprise, followed by a flash of undeniable awe. I rarely dressed up when I was with him. But after the divorce, I felt liberated, and I looked infinitely more radiant and alive than I ever had during our marriage. “Chloe? Why are you…” He was genuinely shocked. I gave him a polite, distant smile. “Your new wife called me. She said I could definitely help you out. I had no idea I possessed such incredible power, so I came to see what all the fuss was about.” The light in his eyes instantly died. He let out a bitter laugh. “You’re right. How could you possibly help? Vivian shouldn’t have bothered you. I’m sorry.” I smoothed out the skirt of my dress and sighed. “It’s fine. Seeing as you aren’t dead yet, I’ll be going now.” Liam jumped up anxiously. “Wait!” He looked at me, lowering his head. “These past few months… I’ve always felt like I owed you an apology.” If apologies actually fixed things, we wouldn’t need the police, would we? And you wouldn’t be locked in a holding cell right now. I waved my hand dismissively, flashing a carefree smile. “Don’t worry about it. Thanks to you, I’m actually living my best life right now.” Walking out of the police station, I bumped right into Vivian. I recognized her immediately. She had a delicate, pure face and a gentle, fragile aura. She looked like a fragile flower made of glass. The exact polar opposite of me. No wonder that after living with me for five years, Liam still only had eyes for her. I had zero interest in exchanging pleasantries with my ex-husband’s new flame. I turned to walk away. But she ran up to me, looking overjoyed, tears brimming in her eyes. She looked at me like I was her savior. “Chloe! Is it really you?” “I didn’t think you’d actually come! I’m so happy. You have no idea, Liam is only in jail because of me. It’s all my fault…” I had pretty much guessed that. Even though Liam was a cheating scumbag, he usually had a strong moral compass when it came to following the law. I replied dismissively, “Oh, is that so…” Seeing that I was engaging, Vivian’s eyes lit up, and she started begging: “So, Chloe… could you please help Liam?” I actually wanted to know what her game plan was, so I smiled and asked: “How exactly am I supposed to help?” Vivian furrowed her brows, looking incredibly distressed and guilty. “Well, I heard from Liam that when you divorced, he left all his assets to you. You know I just got back from abroad, and it was hard for my family to support me. Right now, I have to send half of Liam’s monthly salary back to my parents. The rest just isn’t enough for us to live on. So, I tried to do some black-market trading to make extra cash, and I ended up getting Liam arrested.” “I heard you opened a store and are making really good money. Giving some of that money back to Liam would be really easy for you, right?” I laughed. No wonder she called me. This was her angle all along. It made sense. A penniless Liam, relying solely on a Captain’s salary, was definitely struggling to make ends meet. Of course Vivian was miserable. I looked down at the woman groveling in front of me and fired back without hesitation: “Wow, Vivian. What do you mean ‘give it back’?” “The divorce decree clearly states that money was my compensation. Think about it: if I hadn’t aborted my baby and stepped aside, would you two be living this blissful, romantic life together right now?” Vivian’s face stiffened. A very ugly, forced smile crept onto her lips. “Yes, of course. Liam and I are only together thanks to your sacrifice. But Chloe, we are in serious trouble right now. You loved Liam so much; you can’t just stand by and watch him suffer in a jail cell, can you?” “He’s been charged with illegal profiteering. He’s going to be locked up for a full two weeks.” I widened my eyes and gasped dramatically. “Two weeks?! Won’t that interfere with his military duties?!” Vivian waved her hand dismissively. “Oh, no. I already requested a leave of absence for him beforehand.” I stared at her, slowly exhaled, and offered a soft smile. “Well, that’s wonderful! Honestly, I was worried about Liam suffering in there. But seeing how thoroughly and thoughtfully you’ve handled everything, I feel so much better. I’m sure going through this ordeal together will only make your love for each other stronger.” Vivian realized I wasn’t going to hand over any cash and that her guilt trip wasn’t working. I don’t know what possessed her, but she suddenly threw her pride away and dropped to her knees right in front of me in the middle of the street. “Chloe, please help us! I’m begging you…” The street was crowded. Dozens of eyes instantly locked onto us. I almost burst out laughing. I leaned down and helped her up, putting on an exaggerated look of distress. “Oh my goodness! Vivian, what are you doing?! Where in the world does the homewrecker kneel to the ex-wife?!” “I’ll help! I’ll help, okay?!” With that, I decisively pulled a small notebook out of my purse… I scribbled down a phone number and handed it to Vivian. “This is the direct line to the manager of the garment factory I work with. I heard from Liam that you studied fashion design abroad. Here’s the deal: you draw up some designs, take them to the factory for sampling, and I’ll stock them in my store. I won’t charge you a stocking fee. I’ll help you sell them. Sound good?” Vivian clearly didn’t expect my “help” to require her to actually do any work. Her face turned green, and she glared at me with blatant dissatisfaction. “Chloe, Liam gave you so much money! Even if you don’t care about me, you should care about him! How could you just take all of it?! Don’t you know that was his entire life’s savings?!” Before I could speak, she kept going. “I don’t care. You have to give me twenty thousand dollars right now. And I want half the profits from your new store.” Vivian’s greed was absolutely staggering. She just wanted to sit back and collect a paycheck without lifting a finger. I wasn’t Liam. I wasn’t going to coddle her delusions. I slapped her hand away. My voice turned to ice. “This number is all you’re getting. Take it, or get the hell out of my face.”

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“Chloe, your position is being optimized.” Mr. Vance pushed a termination agreement across the desk toward me. Severance plus one month’s pay: $21,500. I had bled for this department for six years. Two thousand, one hundred and ninety days. Averaging twelve hours a day. I had personally negotiated supplier contracts totaling over a hundred million dollars. And right now, sitting next to Mr. Vance with her legs crossed, was Mia. She had only joined last month. She was the Vice President’s niece. Mr. Vance said she had “a lot of potential.” I glanced at the agreement and smiled. “Alright. I’ll sign.” Mr. Vance clearly froze for a second. He probably hadn’t expected me to be so agreeable. After all, shouldn’t the loyal workhorse he had personally trained be crying and begging for one more chance? I signed my name on the dotted line and pushed the agreement back. Then, I pulled out my phone and sent a text to Mr. Sterling: “Mr. Sterling, do you have a moment? I have some good news.” 01 When I first joined the company six years ago, Mr. Vance told me something. “Work hard, Chloe, and I won’t treat you unfairly.” I was fresh out of college back then and didn’t know anything. Mr. Vance started me on the most basic supplier liaison work. If others found a task too troublesome, I took it. If others didn’t want to travel, I went. In my first year, I went on forty-seven business trips. The furthest was a raw materials factory in the middle of nowhere. The factory owner’s name was Mr. Sterling, a man in his fifties. At first, he absolutely refused to work with us. “Your company’s payment terms are too long.” “I run a small factory; I can’t afford to front that kind of cash.” I didn’t leave. I waited outside his factory gates for three days. On the third day, there was a torrential downpour. I was soaked to the bone and running a fever. When Mr. Sterling came out for a smoke and saw me, he stood there stunned for a long time. “You stubborn girl, what are you trying to prove?” I said, “Mr. Sterling, the quality of your products is genuinely excellent.” “I don’t want our company to miss out on a supplier like you.” “I’ll find a way to fix the payment terms.” That night, Mr. Sterling bought me dinner. The next day, we signed the contract. As for the payment terms, I practically camped out in the finance department for two months, wearing them down until it was resolved. When Mr. Vance found out, he praised me during a department meeting. “Chloe works hard and has potential.” I thought that meant recognition. Only later did I realize it was just the beginning of endless unpaid overtime. 02 Mr. Sterling’s factory became one of our most stable suppliers. A year later, he introduced me to three other factories in the same industry. “Manager Hastings is a good person. You can’t go wrong working with her.” I wasn’t a manager, but Mr. Sterling always called me that. He said, “It’s only a matter of time.” I thought so too. At the end of my second year, the company held its Outstanding Employee awards. My performance ranked first in the department. But my name wasn’t on the list. Mr. Vance said, “Chloe, you’re still young. You’ll have plenty of opportunities.” “Let’s give it to old man Jenkins this year. He’s retiring soon.” I didn’t say anything. At the end of my third year, they held the awards again. My performance was still first in the department. My name still wasn’t on the list. Mr. Vance said, “Chloe, aren’t you being a bit too impatient?” “A person needs to know how to bide their time.” I still didn’t say anything. In my fourth year, I negotiated the largest supplier contract in the company’s history. A fifteen-million-dollar contract, and I haggled the payment terms down from ninety days to forty-five. Mr. Vance presented this case study at the executive meeting. His PowerPoint was fifty-eight slides long. He didn’t mention my name once from start to finish. After the meeting, the Vice President specifically asked, “Who followed up on this project?” Mr. Vance said, “It was a team effort by our department.” That night, I worked overtime alone in the office until 2:00 AM. I organized and filed all the project documents. Then I texted Mr. Sterling: “Mr. Sterling, thank you for always trusting me.” He replied, “Kid, if you need anything, just say the word.” I said, “Nothing’s wrong, just wanted to say thank you.” Actually, I should have understood then. But I didn’t. I was still waiting for that “matter of time.” 03 In my fifth year, the company started pushing a hardcore hustle culture. During a department meeting, Mr. Vance announced, “We are a core department; we need to lead by example.” “Starting this month, no one leaves before 9:00 PM.” “Saturdays are mandatory.” “Any objections?” No one spoke. Neither did I. That year, my stomach ulcer flared up three times. The worst time, I threw up blood in the middle of the night and took an Uber to the ER by myself. I lay in the ER all night and was at my desk promptly at 8:00 AM the next morning. When Mr. Vance saw me, he frowned. “Chloe, you don’t look too good.” I said, “It’s fine, I just didn’t sleep well.” He nodded. “Alright, you’re hosting today’s supplier meeting.” “Mr. Davis has some complaints. Go smooth things over.” Mr. Davis was the owner of another core supplier. What was his complaint? A rebate Mr. Vance had personally promised him last month hadn’t been paid out yet. Mr. Vance made that promise right to his face. But he never actually got it approved by finance. Now that Mr. Davis was knocking on our door, Mr. Vance sent me to “smooth things over.” I chased down finance, then legal, coordinating back and forth for two weeks. Finally, I fronted three thousand dollars of my own money to keep Mr. Davis appeased. When Mr. Vance found out, he patted me on the shoulder. “Chloe, you did the right thing.” “Don’t worry, the company will reimburse you for this.” That three thousand dollars was never reimbursed, right up until the day I left. 04 At the beginning of my sixth year, Mia arrived. Mr. Vance personally brought her to the department. “This is Mia. She’ll be working with us from now on.” “Chloe, show her the ropes.” Mia wore head-to-toe Chanel and teetered on four-inch heels. Her nails were impeccably manicured. She looked like she had never done a day of hard work in her life. She called me “Chloe.” On her first day, I asked her to organize the supplier files. She organized them for an hour, then asked, “Chloe, did you negotiate all these suppliers yourself?” I said, “Most of them, yes.” She went “Wow,” and added, “That’s impressive.” Then she stepped out to take a phone call. She was gone for two hours. When she came back, she said, “Chloe, I have some things to take care of this afternoon. I’m taking off.” It was Wednesday. 3:00 PM. Mr. Vance didn’t say a word. The second week, Mia started sitting in on supplier meetings with me. She played on her phone the entire time. Occasionally, she’d look up and ask, “What does that mean?” Mr. Sterling looked at her, then looked at me. After the meeting, he pulled me aside and asked, “Manager Hastings, who is this girl?” I said, “A new colleague.” Mr. Sterling scoffed. “I only deal with you.” I said, “Don’t worry, Mr. Sterling.” Little did I know, a month later, Mr. Vance would have Mia take over all my supplier accounts. 05 It was a Monday in early March. As soon as I got to the office, Mr. Vance called me into the conference room. “Chloe, you know the company has been restructuring lately.” “Corporate wants to optimize costs.” “You’ve worked hard for the company all these years.” He pushed the termination agreement toward me. Severance plus one month’s pay: $21,500. I stared at the number, suddenly remembering six years ago. Mr. Vance telling me, “Work hard, Chloe, and I won’t treat you unfairly.” Six years. Two thousand, one hundred and ninety days. Averaging twelve hours a day. Over two hundred business trips. Negotiated contracts totaling over a hundred million dollars. Now, converted into a payout of $21,500. I asked, “Mr. Vance, is this your decision, or corporate’s?” His face faltered for a second, then quickly recovered. “Corporate’s, of course.” “It’s a restructuring, my hands are tied.” “Chloe, don’t overthink it.” I nodded. “Okay.” Then I signed the agreement. Mr. Vance visibly sighed in relief. He probably thought I would cry, cause a scene, beg him. After all, he had manipulated me for six years; he should know exactly what kind of person I am. But what he didn’t know was… Three days ago, Mr. Sterling had called me. “Kid, I heard your company is trying to push you out?” “If they dare, I’m pulling my contract.” I said, “Mr. Sterling, don’t act impulsively.” He replied, “I’m not being impulsive; I’m dead serious.” “How much have you helped me over these six years?” “The payment terms, the quality issues, that logistics disaster last time…” “Did you ever not step up and take the heat for me?” “I, Sterling, cannot be a man without a conscience.” I said, “Mr. Sterling, wait for my word.” That night, I lay in bed thinking for a long time. Then, I texted the owners of four other core suppliers: “Gentlemen, if it’s convenient, would you like to get together next week?” 06 Mia came to see me once. It was the day after I signed the termination agreement. She was wearing a new Dior trench coat and holding a Starbucks cup. “Chloe, I heard you’re leaving?” I said, “Yeah.” She let out an exaggerated sigh. “What a shame.” “But don’t worry, Chloe, I’ll take good care of your suppliers.” She winked at me. “Mr. Vance said I’m in charge of everything on the supplier side from now on.” I looked at her face—that young, meticulously maintained face. She couldn’t be older than twenty-five. She didn’t know what it meant to work until dawn. She didn’t know what it meant to front your own money to clean up the company’s mess. She didn’t know what it meant to wait outside a supplier’s gate for three days. All she knew was that she had an uncle who was a Vice President. I smiled. “Mia, I have a piece of advice.” She raised an eyebrow. “What is it?” I said, “Suppliers aren’t just resources; they are relationships.” “Relationships aren’t something you can just transfer during a handover.” “You have to manage them yourself.” She froze for a second, then smiled. “Chloe, are you upset?” “I mean, I get it. Anyone would be upset in your shoes.” “But, what can you do, right?” “We all have to obey company decisions.” She finished her sentence, took a sip of her Starbucks, and walked away. I watched her back and said nothing. In three days, she would find out exactly what “relationships can’t just be transferred” meant. 07 On my last day, I treated my department colleagues to lunch. Mr. Vance didn’t show up. He said he was busy. During the meal, someone asked, “Chloe, what are your plans now?” I said, “I’m going to rest for a while.” “I’ve been too tired these past few years.” Everyone sighed. “Chloe, you were the backbone of our department.” “They went too far treating you like this.” “Sigh, what can you do? She has connections.” I raised my glass with a smile. “Thank you all for looking out for me these past few years.” “I hope our paths cross again.” As we were leaving, someone whispered to me, “Chloe, I heard Mia already started contacting suppliers.” “She called Mr. Sterling today to set up a meeting for next week.” I nodded. “Got it. Thanks.” That night, when I got home. I opened my phone, and Mr. Sterling’s message was already there: “Kid, that young girl named Mia called me.” “I hung up on her.” “When is that get-together you mentioned?” I replied, “Mr. Sterling, this Friday night. My treat.” Mr. Sterling sent an “OK” emoji. Immediately after, Mr. Davis, Mr. Jenkins, Mr. Carter… Four messages arrived almost simultaneously. “Manager Hastings, see you Friday.” 08 Friday night. I booked a private dining room at a high-end restaurant. There were five people sitting inside. Mr. Sterling, Mr. Davis, Mr. Jenkins, Mr. Carter, and Mr. Miller, who had just flown in from Seattle. They were the core suppliers I had maintained for six years. Together, they accounted for 80% of my former company’s procurement volume. Mr. Sterling spoke first: “Kid, before I came here today, that Mr. Vance from your company called me.” “Told me to come in for a meeting next week.” “I told him I didn’t have the time.” Mr. Davis chimed in, “He called me too. Said something about ‘handover procedures.’” “Handover what? Does he even know where my goods come from?” Mr. Jenkins scoffed. “In six years, how many times has he actually met me?” “Every time, it was Manager Hastings who liaised with us. When there were problems, Manager Hastings solved them.” “Now that she’s gone, he thinks he can just swoop in and pick the fruit?” “Not a chance.” I listened to them without interrupting. Only when they were all finished did I speak: “Gentlemen, thank you for all your support over the years.” “I invited you here today to let you know—” “I’ve resigned.” Mr. Sterling nodded. “We know. So?” I said, “So I wanted to ask… if I were to go to a different company…” “Would you still be willing to work with me?” The five of them exchanged a look. Then Mr. Sterling raised his glass. “Kid, why would you even ask that?” “Let me tell you the truth.” “For the past six years, my doing business with your company had nothing to do with their reputation.” “It was entirely out of respect for you, Chloe.” “Wherever you go, I go.” Mr. Davis raised his glass too. “Same here.” “Manager Hastings is reliable.” “Doing business with you gives me peace of mind.” We drank a lot that night. As we were leaving, all five bosses told me the exact same thing: “Once you’ve decided which company you’re joining, let us know.” I stood outside the restaurant, watching them leave. The wind was a bit chilly, but my heart was warm. Six years. I finally knew that my six years hadn’t been a waste. 09 The second week, Mia’s nightmare began. On Monday, she tried to schedule a meeting with Mr. Sterling. Mr. Sterling said, “Sorry, I don’t have time this week.” On Tuesday, she tried to set up a video call with Mr. Davis. Mr. Davis said, “Too busy right now. Maybe next time.” On Wednesday, she flew all the way to Seattle to meet Mr. Miller in person. Mr. Miller had his secretary entertain her for two hours; he never showed his face. On Thursday, a supply issue arose with Mr. Jenkins. A batch of raw materials didn’t meet quality standards and needed urgent coordination. Mia called Mr. Jenkins, and he said, “I only discuss this with Manager Hastings.” “Have her call me.” Mia was stunned. “Mr. Jenkins, Chloe has already resigned.” “I am now responsible for supplier relations.” Mr. Jenkins was silent for three seconds before saying: “Then figure it out yourselves.” “If the issue with this batch isn’t resolved, I can’t guarantee supply for next month either.” He hung up. Mia panicked. She went to Mr. Vance. Mr. Vance panicked even more. That batch from Mr. Jenkins was the core material for next month’s production schedule. If the supply stopped, the entire production line would have to shut down. Mr. Vance called Mr. Jenkins, but he didn’t answer. He had Mia try again, but still no answer. Mr. Vance started cursing. “Do these suppliers have any respect for us?” “We signed a contract, and they dare threaten us?” Mia said timidly, “Mr. Vance, should we… maybe ask Chloe?” Mr. Vance glared at her and said nothing.

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Chapter 1 On our eighteenth birthday, my sister received company shares, a luxury car, and a mansion. I received a DNA test confirming we weren’t biologically related. My mother smiled coldly. “Chloe, since you aren’t our biological daughter, you’ll need to repay the cost of raising you for the last seventeen years.” My father scoffed. “Starting today, you’re the family maid. We’ll credit you five hundred dollars a month toward your debt. Room and board are not included.” I didn’t ask how it was possible that my twin sister and I, who looked like carbon copies of each other, weren’t both their daughters. I just calmly nodded. Because the night before, standing outside their door, I had heard everything: My sister, Mia, had whined while holding our parents’ hands. “Mom, Dad, my only birthday wish is to be the sole heiress of the Vance family and get all your love to myself. Can we just make Chloe be a maid for a year? Please?” My father looked at her with pure indulgence. “Of course. Anything you want.” My mother laughed and agreed, “For this entire year, Mom and Dad belong only to our precious Mia.” After everyone had gone to bed, I stared at the leftover birthday cake, stuck a candle in it, and made a wish: I want to leave the Vance family. Not for a year, but for the rest of my life. … My sister, Mia, covered her mouth in an exaggerated gasp. “Oh my gosh, Chloe! No wonder you’re so ugly and don’t look like Mom or Dad. You really are a fake!” She shrieked loudly and dramatically. It was as if she had completely forgotten that we were twins and looked at least 80% alike. “Oh wait, you aren’t my sister at all. You’re just some stray mutt who crawled in from nowhere.” My mother’s face was distant and cold. “Chloe, now that the truth is out and you aren’t a Vance, this birthday party is exclusively for our precious daughter, Mia. You have no right to be here.” I looked up at Mia, who was gloating. She was wearing a custom-made princess gown and a tiara that cost as much as a house. Then I looked at myself, wearing a faded, washed-out button-down and jeans with frayed cuffs. I smiled bitterly. Right. I never had any “rights” in this house to begin with. So how could I lose them? My father raised his voice. “Starting today, move into the servant’s quarters. For the sake of the years we spent together, you can work here as a maid until you find your real parents. I’ll credit you five hundred dollars a month to pay off the seventeen years of expenses we wasted on you. Room and board are not included.” The guests whispered among themselves. Like a pathetic clown performing under a spotlight of mockery and disdain, I bent down and picked up my backpack. Mia suddenly rushed forward and violently yanked my bag. The broken zipper, held together only by a safety pin, burst open, spilling my belongings all over the floor. Mia shrieked, “Aha! I knew it! You’ve been stealing from us!” Laying among my scattered textbooks was a single, pink sanitary pad. My mother looked slightly embarrassed. “Mia, let it go. It’s just a sanitary pad.” Mia immediately threw a tantrum. “Mom! I’m the only daughter of the Vance family now! Who does she think she is?! She’s leeched off us for years, and now she’s stealing our stuff! If I say she doesn’t deserve it, she doesn’t deserve it!” Seeing her get angry, my mother quickly softened her tone to coax her. “Okay, okay, baby, don’t be mad. You’re right. You are Mommy’s only precious girl now. You can do whatever you want.” Satisfied, Mia stomped directly onto the sanitary pad, grinding her heel into it. “There. I don’t want it anymore. You can have it.” I stared at the sanitary pad covered in dirty footprints. My throat felt like it was stuffed with wet, heavy cotton. I couldn’t breathe. Chapter 2 In the end, I bent down and only picked up my books. After the party ended, our housekeeper, Mrs. Miller, led me to a storage closet. It was barely fifty square feet. The only things inside were a wooden board bed piled with junk and a rusted iron window. Mrs. Miller stood in the doorway, hesitating. “Miss… Chloe, Mr. and Mrs. Vance remember the good things about you. Once they cool down, you’ll be the Vance family’s eldest daughter again…” Before she could finish, two cockroaches scurried out from a dark corner and disappeared. I pretended not to see the awkward pity on her face. “Thank you. I understand.” Mrs. Miller shook her head and walked away, muttering softly to herself, “They look exactly alike, how could they not be related? Sigh…” I sat on the hard wooden board, staring blankly out the rusted window into the pitch-black night. It’s fine. Just one more year, and I can leave forever. That night, my cramps were agonizing. Having no sanitary pads, I had to fold up layers of toilet paper. When I stepped out of the bathroom, I heard my parents whispering in the hallway. “Honey, do you think Chloe will hate us for treating her like this? She is our biological daughter, after all.” My father scoffed. “It’s her fault for always bullying Mia. She’s the older sister; she should know how to yield to her younger sister. Letting her taste some hardship is for her own good.” “After Mia has her fun for a year, we’ll just make an excuse and say the DNA test was a mix-up. Once we restore her status as the eldest daughter, she’ll be too thrilled to hold a grudge.” My fingertips went ice cold. It was absurd. It was hilarious. Why on earth did they think they could trample me into the dirt, and I would just stand there waiting for them like an obedient dog? The next day, I went out to buy sanitary pads. But when I tried to pay, my card was declined for insufficient funds. I knew for a fact I had exactly two hundred dollars saved up. When I walked back into the mansion, the three of them were laughing around the dining table. There was a gift bag sitting on the table. My mother was lovingly caressing a silk scarf. “Our Mia is such a sweet, thoughtful girl. Knowing how to buy gifts for her mommy now! I’m so happy.” My father twirled a cheap plastic water bottle in his hands, grinning from ear to ear. “Dad loves his too! That’s my precious daughter.” Mia pouted, leaning her head on our mother’s shoulder. “But both of those only cost two hundred dollars combined. You guys aren’t mad I bought something so cheap, are you?” My mother immediately shook her head. “Of course not! As long as my baby bought it, even a two-dollar gift is a treasure to me.” My father didn’t miss the chance to put me down to lift her up. “Exactly. Unlike your sister, who only knows how to spend our money and has never bought us a single gift. She’s a heartless parasite. She could never compare to my Mia…” Noticing me standing in the doorway, they abruptly stopped talking. Mia tilted her head, looking at me with a sickeningly sweet, malicious smile. That two hundred dollars. That was two months’ worth of my living expenses. It was every single penny I had to my name. My whole body went cold. Something in my brain violently snapped. By the time I realized what I was doing, I had already grabbed Mia and raised my hand to slap her. But before my hand could fall, my father delivered a brutal kick to my stomach. I flew backward, my spine slamming agonizingly against the sharp corner of the glass coffee table. My vision went completely black from the pain. Mia held up her arm, showing off a tiny, faint red mark, and started wailing like the sky was falling. “Mom! Dad! It hurts so much! Is my arm broken?!” My mother panicked, screaming, “Call an ambulance!” My father quickly interrupted, “Don’t bother with an ambulance, it’ll take too long! I’ll drive Mia to the hospital myself.” Mia pointed a shaking finger at me as I lay gasping on the floor. “I don’t want to ride in the car! That stray mutt hurt me! I want her to carry me to the hospital on her back!” Chapter 3 The mansion was over twelve miles away from the nearest hospital in the city. My mother glared at me with eyes like ice. “You are a parentless stray. We fed and housed you for over a decade, and you dare lay a hand on my biological daughter? You will do exactly as Mia says.” Seeing me struggling to get up, my father grabbed me by the collar and hauled me to my feet. “Stop faking it. It was just a light tap. Hurry up and get Mia on your back. If you delay my daughter’s treatment, I swear I’ll throw you out on the street.” I believed him. But I couldn’t leave yet. I was broke. I had no choice but to let Mia climb onto my back and begin the agonizing trek toward the hospital. My father drove his luxury car slowly, trailing right behind me. He continuously yelled out the window, “Chloe, you better hold her steady! If you drop my precious daughter, I’ll skin you alive!” My mother complained from the passenger seat, “Walk faster! Did you not eat?! Don’t you dare delay my baby’s treatment!” Mia clung to my back, giggling viciously in my ear. “See? Nobody in this house loves you! You’re just an unwanted stray dog.” In the past, words like that would have easily pierced my heart. But now, perhaps due to an overdose of pain, I was completely numb. Seeing that I wasn’t reacting, Mia stopped talking. But just as we were finally approaching the hospital… She pulled a safety pin out of her pocket and jabbed it violently into my back. I stumbled in blinding pain, collapsing face-first onto the pavement. My parents immediately slammed on the brakes, bolted out of the car, scooped up Mia—who had fallen on top of me—and sprinted toward the emergency room. My mother glanced back at me, my face chalk-white on the concrete, and tossed a careless comment over her shoulder: “We’re at the hospital anyway. Go find a doctor yourself. We don’t have time to deal with you.” I never made it inside the hospital. Because I had no money. With zero energy left to walk back, I sat on the hospital steps until the sun went down, finally making my way back to the mansion long after dark. They were already home. Standing in the opulent living room were a filthy, cowering, middle-aged man and woman. “You’re back.” My father pointed at the couple. “These are your biological parents. Pack your things and leave with them right now.” The silence in the room was deafening. My mother walked over and grabbed my hand, though she couldn’t meet my eyes. “Chloe, we were mother and daughter for a long time, and this breaks my heart. But since your real parents have been found, there’s no reason for you to linger in the Vance household.” I thought I had run out of tears. But they spilled over my eyelashes and streamed down my face anyway. These were the parents I had cherished and loved more than anything for seventeen years. And they were entirely unwilling to let me stay, even in the darkest, smallest corner of their home. Seeing my tears, my mother looked guilty. She reached out to wipe them away, but Mia quickly latched onto her arm. “Chloe! Congratulations! You’re finally not a parentless stray anymore!” The middle-aged woman immediately grabbed my other arm. Her filthy, blackened fingernails dug painfully into my skin as she began a ridiculously exaggerated wail. “Oh, my sweet daughter! Mommy finally found you! Come home with Mommy!” The man claiming to be my biological father started dragging me toward the door. “Yeah, yeah, let’s go! You’ve bothered Mr. and Mrs. Vance long enough. Don’t be a shameless parasite!” “Wait,” Mia said, her eyes gleaming as she smiled wickedly. “Chloe, finding your real parents is a massive deal. It wouldn’t be right to leave without kneeling and kowtowing to them in gratitude. Or… are you disgusted because they’re poor? Do you look down on your own parents?” I froze, turning to look at my mother and father. “Do you also think I should kneel and kowtow to them?” Chapter 4 They instinctively avoided my gaze. Mia kept pushing. “Hurry up and kneel! We’re all waiting!” I smiled. Something inside my chest completely, irrevocably shattered. I dropped to my knees, but I didn’t face the strangers. I faced my mother and father, and bowed deeply, my forehead touching the floor. “Thank you for raising me. This ends my obligations to you as a daughter. From this moment on, I have absolutely no connection to the Vance family.” My parents exchanged a panicked look, a flicker of unease crossing both their faces. But I had already stood up and turned to leave with my “biological parents.” My mother chased after me, her voice shrill with fake bravado, “We aren’t even! Not until… not until you pay back every single penny we spent on you over the last seventeen years!” I stopped walking, but I didn’t turn around. I simply replied, “Okay.” They genuinely believed they had spent a fortune on me over the years. But they conveniently forgot that the daughter they extravagantly spoiled and threw money at was Mia. Meanwhile, I got an allowance of three hundred dollars a month. And even that was constantly extorted by Mia, whose allowance was thirty thousand. If I refused to give it to her, she would go home crying. She would claim I was turning our classmates against her and bullying her at school. As punishment, I would be locked in my room without food. There was even a night during a torrential downpour where Mia claimed I was bullying her so much she wanted to die. For that, I was locked outside in the freezing rain all night. I caught a fever of 104 degrees, and no one cared. From childhood until now, it had always been exactly like this. One word from Mia dictated whether I was right or wrong, happy or miserable, and even if I was allowed basic human dignity. My explanations, my tears, my grievances… in this house, they were utterly worthless. Just like me. Incredibly cheap. That night, I arrived at my “biological parents’” dingy, run-down apartment in the slums. Because there were no extra rooms or blankets, I spent the night curled up in a ball on the floor of the tiny, grimy bathroom. The freezing wind howled through the broken, newspaper-patched windows. By the next morning, I was delirious with a dangerously high fever. Fading in and out of consciousness, I heard the woman frantically speaking on the phone. “Mr. Vance, Mrs. Vance! The… the girl has a massive fever! She’s burning up, it’s 104 degrees!” “Well, what are you waiting for?! Take her to the hospital!” The phone was on speaker. Mia’s voice rang out, crystal clear. “Mom, Dad! She just left last night and she magically has a high fever today? That’s too much of a coincidence. It’s obviously a trick to see if you still care. If you fall for it, she wins!” After a long silence, my father’s icy voice replied, “Leave her be. She said it herself: she has no connection to us anymore. Let the ungrateful brat learn a hard lesson.” My mother sounded incredibly annoyed. “She’s your daughter now. Stop calling us over every little thing. We’re busy packing for our daughter’s round-the-world graduation trip. I’m hanging up.” No one cared if I lived or died. I was abandoned in that miserable slum apartment. Using the very last shred of my willpower, I clawed the front door open and dragged myself out into the hallway before passing out completely. When I opened my eyes again, a nurse was standing by my bed. “Sweetheart, you’re finally awake! 107 degrees! If a kind stranger hadn’t found you and brought you here… ten minutes later, and you wouldn’t have made it.” “Alright, hurry up and call your family to come. And you need to pay your admission fees.” I was silent for a long time. My voice was paper-thin. “I don’t have any money. And I don’t have a family.” The nurse was stunned. I stared blankly at the IV tube taped to the back of my hand and licked my cracked lips. “But… I have blood.” When school started again, I was officially a high school senior. I began running errands for my classmates—buying their lunches, delivering packages. One dollar per trip. I could save about twenty dollars a day. Chapter 5 One day, I had just finished buying someone’s lunch and was walking out of the cafeteria when I ran straight into Mia. She simply crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow. Her lackeys immediately lunged forward, snatching the lunchbox from my hands and smashing it onto the ground. The food mixed with the mud and dirty puddles on the pavement. “Aww, sister. You look so hungry. Let me treat you to lunch,” Mia sneered. Her friends grabbed the back of my head and forcefully shoved my face toward the muddy, trampled food. Ms. Harris, my homeroom teacher, happened to be walking by and furiously reprimanded them. She pulled me up and helped me wipe the mud off my face. She had heard rumors about what happened at the birthday party and knew I was desperately poor. Without asking too many invasive questions, she helped me secure a weekend tutoring job for a middle schooler. The only condition was that I could only work half-days on weekends, ensuring it wouldn’t affect my grades. I thanked her profusely. But I never could have imagined that Ms. Harris’s singular act of kindness would result in her being anonymously reported for “accepting bribes from parents” and subsequently fired. And me? My face was plastered all over the school’s public bulletin board. Someone had taken a photo of the middle schooler’s father driving me home from a tutoring session. The caption labeled me a high school escort being funded by a sugar daddy. My “biological mother,” Brenda, rushed to the school. Without asking a single question, she slapped me across the face twice. She viciously grabbed my hair, yanking and pinching me. “You little slut! Barely a teenager and you’re already spreading your legs for men! You might not have any shame, but I do!” My head snapped to the side from the impact. Through my messy, disheveled hair, my eyes locked onto my real parents, standing with the school administrators, looking at me like I was radioactive trash. And standing right behind them was Mia, a massive, triumphant grin splitting her face. My hair fell forward, hiding my line of sight, and hiding the tears I couldn’t hold back. I lowered my head and said quietly, “I’m sorry. I know I was wrong.” That night, right after I stepped out of the shower in the slum apartment, a pair of massive hands violently dragged me into a bedroom. My “biological father,” Bob, was shirtless, his eyes bloodshot with pure lust as he lunged at me. “If you’re giving it away to men outside, you might as well give it to me!” I pulled a hidden box cutter from my sleeve and slashed wildly at his face. He stumbled back, panting heavily, looking like a starved animal. “I’m a minor! Unless you want to spend the rest of your life in prison, get the hell away from me!” Living in the slums, there was no way I wouldn’t be prepared for the worst. Bob spat on the floor, wiped the blood from his cheek, and flashed a sickening, yellow-toothed grin. “You just wait, you little bitch. Your real parents sold you to me. I’ll get what I want eventually.” The door slammed shut. I collapsed against it, sliding down to the floor, my entire body shaking violently. The tears flooded out. I bit down on the back of my hand so hard I drew blood, just to stop my sobbing from making a sound. My phone buzzed. A notification from the Vance Family group chat. My mother: “Chloe, you are a pathetic, depraved child. Thinking about the fact that I called a filthy, shameless girl like you my daughter for seventeen years makes me physically sick.” The next second, my father removed me from the group chat. Staring at the chat group that now only had three members, my mother felt a sudden, inexplicable pang of unease. “Honey, did we go too far? Didn’t the investigator say she was just tutoring that man’s kid?” My father huffed angrily. “If she hadn’t forced Mia to eat food off the dirty floor, Mia wouldn’t have cried until her eyes were swollen! All Mia asked for was to kick her out of the group chat. She got off easy.” He thought for a second, then softened his tone. “It’s only for a year anyway. I already transferred enough money to Bob so she won’t starve. When the year is up, we’ll go pick her up immediately.” One year later. The day of Mia’s and my nineteenth birthday. My parents left the house early in the morning. My father drove fast. “Did you bring the real DNA test results?” My mother nodded repeatedly. “I have them. We haven’t seen Chloe in a whole year. When we bring her home, we have to properly make it up to her.” Chapter 6 My father smiled. “Of course. I’ve already reorganized the company shares. Mia is too playful; she can’t handle the responsibility. After this year of hardship, Chloe has definitely matured and won’t bully her sister anymore. At the birthday banquet tonight, I’ll officially announce Chloe as the primary heir.” The two of them hurried out of the car, navigated the filthy, trash-filled stairwell of the slum apartment, and went straight to Bob’s door. But they knocked for ten minutes, and no one answered. Finally, an older woman poked her head out of the neighboring apartment. “Stop knocking. Bob got arrested and sent to prison a long time ago for raping that girl he brought home last year.” The hallway went dead silent. My parents’ faces froze, as if they had been struck by a sledgehammer. After a long time, my father, his face deathly pale, finally managed to find his trembling voice. “Did… did Bob bring several girls home last year?” The neighbor smacked her lips, completely shattering his delusion. “Several? No, just the one. He told everyone she was his long-lost daughter that he finally tracked down.” “Yes! She’s his daughter!” my mother interrupted, her voice shrill and panicked. “She’s his daughter! A father wouldn’t touch his own daughter! There must be a mistake!” My mother seemed to believe that if she yelled loud enough, she could bury the horrific truth staring her in the face. But the neighbor wasn’t buying it. She let out a harsh, mocking laugh. “What daughter? Everyone in this building knows Bob is shooting blanks. He’s got a medical condition; he can’t even have kids.” “He kept bragging that the girl was his long-lost kid. But look at Bob and Brenda—they’re both ugly as sin! There’s no way they could produce a girl that pretty. He obviously kidnapped or tricked her into coming here.” Seeing that my parents were well-dressed, the neighbor leaned in, her eyes shining with morbid, gossipy excitement, hoping to impress them. “Let me tell you, the walls in this building are paper-thin. The night Bob got arrested… that poor girl’s screaming and crying echoed through the entire building. It was horrific.” My mother stumbled backward, the world spinning around her, and grabbed the rusty staircase railing for support. Usually a severe germaphobe, she didn’t even notice the thick, black grime coating her hands. Her face was completely blank as she muttered lifelessly, “Impossible… It’s a lie. It has to be a lie.” The neighbor waved her hand defensively. “I’m not lying! Ask anyone in this building! He brought that poor girl here, and within a few days, he forced himself on her. The man is an absolute animal.” The neighbor described the events with vivid, terrifying detail, completely oblivious to my parents’ rapidly deteriorating complexions. My father, usually a ruthless, commanding presence in the corporate world, was trembling like a leaf in the wind. It took every ounce of his willpower just to keep his buckling legs from collapsing. “Where… where is the girl now…?” “Oh, don’t even ask.” The neighbor sighed heavily. “The second the cops hauled Bob away, the girl jumped off the roof. She looked like she was just a student. Such a sweet, pretty face, completely ruined by that monster. I don’t know who her real parents are, but if they ever found out, their hearts would shatter into a million pieces.” Having finished her story, the neighbor finally noticed my parents looked like they had just seen a ghost. A dawning realization hit her. “Wait a minute… you don’t think that girl was your daughter, do you?” “No! No, she wasn’t.” My father denied it frantically. “We were just passing through…” Looking like a man fleeing from hell itself, he grabbed my mother’s arm and practically dragged her out of the building. Running out of the stairwell, he nearly tripped over a pile of rotting garbage. They didn’t speak a single word until they were safely inside the luxury car. I don’t know how much time passed, but a suppressed, agonizing sob finally broke the silence. My mother covered her face, completely breaking down into hysterical wails. “My Chloe… my baby girl…”

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