Late at night, bored out of my mind, I secretly used an AI tool to generate a video of me kissing my massive crush to use as a substitute for the real thing. But somehow, I accidentally sent the video directly to him. After watching it, he grabbed me, pulled out his phone, and pointed the camera at us. “AI kisses are boring. “Come on, let’s film a real one.” 1 Late at night. I was scrolling through TikTok, bored out of my mind, when I suddenly saw something very interesting. A creator had used an AI software to blend photos of herself and her crush, generating a highly realistic video of them kissing. It looked incredibly real. ! Has AI technology really advanced this far?! A spark of inspiration hit me. I immediately dove deep into my phone’s camera roll and dug up a bunch of photos. They were all of my crush, Liam. His serious profile during a lecture, his lazy, smiling face while joking with friends, his incredible abs exposed when he casually lifted his jersey to wipe his sweat… Just looking at them made me drool. I had begged, borrowed, and stolen these high-quality photos from all sorts of places. I fed all the photos of Liam and myself into the AI software. After a flurry of complex operations, it exported a video of about ten seconds. In it, “I” and “Liam” looked into each other’s eyes. Then “I” looked up, “he” looked down, and “we” shared a sweet, romantic kiss. “My” hand was even resting on his chest. And “his” hand was cupping the back of my neck. Tsk. The kiss I couldn’t get in real life, I managed to get first through AI. I lay in my dorm bed, holding my phone, my heart fluttering. The smile on my face never dropped the entire time. I probably watched this fake kissing video over a hundred times on loop. But gradually, something started to feel a bit off. I felt like even though the AI “Liam” looked like the real Liam, his body proportions were slightly wrong. His shoulders weren’t that narrow, and his smile looked weird. His arms shouldn’t be that scrawny either. It wasn’t perfect. It was probably because I hadn’t fed the AI enough reference material, so the guy in the video didn’t completely match Liam’s actual physique. After thinking about it, I opened a chat with a specific friend on my phone. 2 This friend was an absolute legend at our university. I forgot how I even added her, and I’d never met her in person, but I just knew she was incredibly well-connected. Because she always had a massive stash of photos of Liam for sale. And they were never duplicates. Some of them were even selfies taken from Liam’s own perspective. I had asked her out of curiosity where she got these pictures, and she claimed she tracked down a little-known social media account Liam had on a foreign app. That account was full of photos Liam posted himself. So her “inventory” was fully stocked. A dollar a picture—cheap, affordable, and high-quality. It perfectly satisfied the needs of a secret admirer like me. Of course, she never told me the actual username of the account. [You there, babe?] My friend, whose profile picture was Hello Kitty, replied instantly: [Yeah.] [Got any more pics of Liam?] [Yeah, why are you buying more? Didn’t you just buy a dozen the day before yesterday?] I answered vaguely: [I already drew them all. I need more reference material for my art assignments.] I had never revealed to anyone that I liked Liam. Liam was notoriously hard to pursue. Since freshman year, no one had succeeded, and rumor had it he still harbored feelings for his first love. I was naturally introverted and struggled with low self-esteem. I didn’t want to humiliate myself by getting rejected; the thought of it just made me feel awkward and embarrassed. So, with this internet friend, my excuse for buying Liam’s photos was always that I needed references for my art classes. Other students from the art department also frequently drew Liam. After all, his facial features were striking and highly defined, and his body lines were excellent. He was the absolute perfect candidate for a model. Because the final products were so pleasing to the eye, the professors naturally tended to give higher grades. So my excuse of buying photos to draw Liam wasn’t suspicious at all; it was actually quite common. [But this time I don’t want his selfies. I want to buy some pictures of his body. Abs, chest—shots that show off his physique well.] [My figure drawing assignment this time is a bit tricky, sell me a few with good angles.] She replied slowly: [Alright, I’ll go find some for you.] My internet friend went to work. I waited, my imagination running wild. [Image] [Image] [Image] Soon, she sent over a few photos. They were all high-definition mirror selfies of a shirtless Liam. An eight-pack, a prominent V-line, broad shoulders, and a narrow waist. His muscle lines were smooth and flawless from every angle. Paired with that incredibly handsome face, the sheer testosterone and youthful energy radiating from the photos had me completely hooked. Saved the pictures, and transferred the money immediately. [Thanks! Got any clear shots of his face looking straight ahead?] Otherwise, in the AI video, the guy’s face gets a little distorted. She accepted the money. A few seconds later, she sent a high-definition selfie of Liam. He seemed to have taken it in the bathroom of the boys’ dorm. His expression was lazy. A truly authoritative, universally acknowledged handsome face. [Yeah. We’re having a promotion today: buy five, get one free. This one’s on the house.] I was deeply moved. What an absolute god-tier internet friend. 3 Using the excuse of working on my assignment, I quickly fed these new photos into the AI software. The AI generated a brand new video. This time, it felt right. The “Liam” in this video matched his actual expressions and body type 99%. The plot seemed richer, and the video was longer. A subway train kiss. Tsk. Looks like the AI had a preference for J-drama tropes. I dragged the progress bar, continuing to watch. In a crowded subway car, “Liam” pinned “me” against the wall. He whispered in “my” ear first, then lowered his head and kissed “me.” This kind of public display of affection carried a strange mix of thrill and shyness. Hiding quietly behind my bed curtains, I felt like a furnace had been placed right next to me. I felt so hot that my cheeks and ears were burning, and my throat felt a little dry. I watched it over and over again, endlessly. I’m not joking. Even when I’m dead and nailed into a coffin, I’m taking this fake digital sustenance with me to enjoy in the afterlife. It wasn’t until I literally couldn’t keep my eyes open anymore that I reluctantly closed the video and went to sleep. For the next few days, I was completely addicted to this AI kissing video. So much so that I temporarily stopped hitting up my god-tier internet friend for pictures. Then one day, she reached out to me first. [Why haven’t you bought any pictures of Liam lately?] I replied: [Babe, I don’t need any for now.] Hearing this, she immediately fired off a barrage of messages. [? [Don’t need them? [Did you not finish drawing the old ones? [Or are you planning to draw someone else instead of Liam? [Who is it? Does he have a better body than Liam? Is he handsomer than Liam? [His body was built from playing sports; you can’t compare those scrawny guys to him. [What’s wrong with him? Tell me, I’ll fix it.] She recalled one of her messages. [What’s wrong with him? Tell me, and next time I’ll find you some better pictures.] ? Why was she suddenly getting so defensive and anxious? 4 I was confused, but I assumed she was just worried about losing her most loyal customer. [I’m not planning on drawing anyone else. No one else has a physique that can beat his.] She seemed to be in a good mood again. [Oh, then why did you stop buying his photos?] [I saw him post some pictures on his social media, and his body seems to have gotten even better lately. [Are you sure you don’t want to buy some more for reference?] I replied mysteriously: [I don’t need static photos right now, mainly because I’ve been enjoying something much better lately.] [What something better? Let me see.] [No, it’s my secret.] If this shameless AI kissing video accidentally leaked and caused trouble for Liam’s reputation and life, what would I do? I might be thirsty. But I can’t cause trouble for Liam. That’s the fundamental rule of having a secret crush. Afraid this internet friend would keep pestering me, I brushed her off casually and stopped replying. She sent a few more messages before finally going quiet. Just as I was getting ready to resume enjoying my digital sustenance, the person pinned to the very top of my chat list sent me a message. Liam: [You there?] !! I excitedly rubbed my eyes. Holy crap. Liam had actually initiated a conversation with me! [I’m here, I’m here. What’s up?] What did he want? Was he inviting me out? Did he want me to bring him water at the basketball court? Asking me out to dinner? In just a few seconds, countless romantic scenarios bubbled up in my brain. Then, Liam just dropped a garbled link into the chat. And said: [Can you click this Temu link for me? Thanks.] …….? 5 The romantic bubbles burst mercilessly. But I didn’t dare delay. Whatever my crush does is right. So what if a guy who wears a different pair of limited-edition sneakers every day uses Temu? It just proves he knows when to spend and when to save. He is wise. I hurriedly clicked the link to help Liam secure his discount. Just watching the animation took me several minutes, only to arrive at the conclusion that I was the “luckiest person of the day.” Not bad. A perfect conclusion. I tapped the screen frantically. [Done. Check and see if it worked.] [Yeah, it did.] [That’s good.] And then the conversation died. I stared at the chat interface, racking my brain trying to find a topic to keep the conversation going. But I genuinely didn’t know what to say. After all, in Liam’s mind, I was probably just an underclassman in the same club as him. After agonizing over it, I sent him a link too. [Can you click mine too?] Liam paused for a moment: [Sure.] Then, he sent me another link. [Click this one for me too.] ? Another one? Just how frugal has my crush become lately? I was confused, but I still clicked it. Then I immediately shot another link back at him, absolutely refusing to let this conversation end. [Then click this one for me too.] And so, that night, the two of us clicked hundreds of links for each other. Eventually, Temu couldn’t take it anymore and sent us both, two absolute broke college students, a massive discount coupon. We struck gold. A massive payday. 6 After spending an entire night having this bizarre alternative “chat” with my crush, I was full of energy the next day, despite having massive dark circles under my eyes. I didn’t expect that as soon as I walked into the classroom, I’d get even more good news. The professor had specifically invited over a dozen guys from the basketball team to be our live figure models. When these guys, all over six feet tall, walked in, the usually spacious and quiet art studio suddenly felt a bit cramped. The smell of vibrant, youthful energy mixed with the scent of oil paint. My eyes instantly landed on Liam, who was standing toward the back. The campus idol had actually been dragged here to be a model too. The eyes of every girl in the studio lit up. My heart raced, and I secretly bowed to the heavens. Oh merciful gods, your devoted follower has given up vegetarianism for life; you MUST let Liam be my model! The professor told the slightly embarrassed guys to just take a seat in order. I craned my neck and quickly counted heads. Crap. Liam was going to be the model for the student sitting right behind me. But that was okay; just being able to catch glimpses of him out of the corner of my eye was enough to satisfy me. One by one, they sat down. When the guy in front of Liam was about to sit next to me, Liam suddenly patted his shoulder and said calmly: “Big Mike, I think you left your bag in the bathroom in the academic building.” The guy called Big Mike froze. “Holy shit, I knew my hands felt empty! Thanks, Liam.” “No problem. Go find it before it’s gone.” “Yeah, yeah.” Big Mike lifted his butt from the chair and rushed out of the studio in a panic. And then Liam, amidst my bewildered and ecstatic gaze, casually took the seat right next to me. “Chloe, I’ll be your model.” 7 My heart was beating like a drum. I nodded, pretending to be calm. “Sorry for the trouble.” “It’s no trouble. Do you need me to strike a specific pose?” “No, just sit however is comfortable for you.” Liam leaned back in the chair, his long legs stretched out casually. His gaze frequently landed on me. This scene felt exactly like the beginning of that AI kissing video. We were sitting on the subway, and he was seducing me with his eyes. In this moment, I was terrified that if I made eye contact with him, I would instinctively blush and expose my overly indecent inner thoughts. So I kept my neck stiff and didn’t dare look at him too much. Fortunately, I had long since memorized the proportions of Liam’s face, so I could roughly sketch it out blindly based on feeling. Liam sat quietly beside me, not saying much. But his presence was incredibly strong. Especially because of whatever laundry detergent he used; it smelled amazing. I made a mental note to buy the same brand later. Just as my mind was wandering and my sketching was becoming chaotic, the boy suddenly leaned his face closer, as if curious about my progress. ! My hand holding the pencil jerked. I ended up drawing his eyelashes way too long in one stroke. It looked a bit comical. Liam said lazily: “Chloe, that’s a bit of a stretch, isn’t it?” “Sorry.” But Liam didn’t seem to have any intention of letting me off the hook. He raised his hand and, highly amused, lightly tapped the drawing of himself on my sketchpad. “By the way, why is the bridge of my nose so flat, and why does my mouth look so stiff? It looks like I had too much Botox.” Being criticized by the actual model, I frustratingly and sheepishly grabbed my eraser. I planned to quickly erase the garbage drawing caused by my wandering mind. “I’m sorry, I’ll fix it right now.” I couldn’t afford to get distracted again. Stay focused. But Liam said: “Don’t rush to fix it. You don’t seem to be in the zone. Why don’t you get a feel for your model first?” “Get a feel for you? How?” I turned to look at him in confusion. I heard the boy speak in a coaxing tone: “Chloe, why don’t you touch my face?” My eyes shot wide open. ! T-touch him?! Did I just hit the jackpot?!

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While helping my boyfriend transfer some files… I accidentally stumbled upon a hidden photo album. I casually clicked it open. The screen was instantly flooded with photos of a couple, catching me completely off guard. It turned out, my boyfriend had a new girlfriend. Right at that exact moment, I received a text from my best friend. [Mia, I have a huge secret to tell you!] [Liam is planning to propose to you! On your birthday!] 1 When Liam asked me to help him transfer some files… I accidentally clicked on his D drive instead of his external hard drive. Just as I was about to exit, a very unique folder caught my eye in the bottom corner. It was titled [With You]. Curiosity got the better of me, and I clicked it open. A screen completely full of couple photos instantly filled my vision. In that moment, I felt like the punchline to a massive, humiliating joke. 2 In the photos, Liam had his arms wrapped tightly around her waist, resting his chin on her shoulder as they took mirror selfies. There was also a shot of him playfully tugging on the bunny ear headband she was wearing, while she looked down shyly. It was an intimate, flirtatious dynamic that clearly belonged to them. It was actually hilarious. When he was with me, he was always gentle, polite, and restrained. But in these photos, he was clearly dominant and aggressively affectionate. My eyes were drawn, entirely against my will, to the bracelet on her wrist. What a coincidence. I have the exact same one. It was the gift Liam gave me for my birthday last year. He told me he had our names custom-engraved on it, and that it was the only one of its kind in the entire world. Looking at it now, it was an absolute joke. It turns out, they’ve been together for much longer than a year. A sharp, agonizing pain seized my heart. An indescribable agony spread from my chest through my entire body. I slowly closed my eyes, feeling like every ounce of strength had been instantly drained from me. When I opened them again, my vision was completely blurred with tears. Fighting back the violent wave of nausea rolling in my stomach… I pulled out my phone, took photos of the screen, and saved them. 3 Right at that exact moment, a message notification popped up. It was from my best friend, Chloe. [Mia, I have a huge secret to tell you!] [Liam is planning to propose to you! On your birthday!] [He’s already booked the venue and everything, and he made us swear to keep it a secret from you! It’s so romantic!] Seeing I hadn’t replied, she sent another: [Hello? You there?] [Babe, are you super surprised?! Isn’t this amazing?!] I replied: [No. It’s actually disgusting.] She asked, completely confused: [Wait, what?! What happened?!] [Liam is cheating on me.] … The very next second, Chloe was calling me. The moment I answered, she hissed through gritted teeth, “Liam is absolute trash!!!” 4 After forcing my emotions back into a locked box, I grabbed the USB drive and walked out the door. My car was in the shop for maintenance, so I took a cab to Liam’s office. When I handed him the drive, I had to put on a flawless performance and act like absolutely nothing was wrong. It was incredibly uncomfortable. Just as I turned to leave, Liam suddenly grabbed my hand, looked at me with absolute tenderness, and said, “Wifey, I’m so lucky to have you.” Right on cue, one of his coworkers walked by. He laughed and teased, “Whoa, getting a little too sweet in here for the office, aren’t we?” I subtly pulled my hand out of his grasp and forced a tight, artificial smile. “I’m meeting Chloe to go shopping. I have to run.” He nodded slightly, reached out to ruffle my hair, and smiled. “Have fun.” 5 At the coffee shop. After Chloe finished listening to my entire story… She looked like she wanted to literally tear him to shreds. “Liam is a sociopathic piece of trash.” She aggressively stabbed her cake with her fork, using it as an outlet for her rage. She looked at me and asked, “Mia, what are you going to do?” I stared blankly at the bustling street outside the window for a long time before finally speaking: “I want to prepare a ‘surprise’ for him on my birthday.” Hearing that, Chloe slammed her hand on the table excitedly. “Beautiful! I am 100% on board. Whatever you need me to do, just say the word.” I laid out my entire plan to her. She nodded vigorously the whole time. At the very end, she added one condition. “Mia, leave everything to me. Once we nuke this situation, we are going on a massive vacation.” She looked at me with eager, hopeful eyes. I knew she was just terrified I was going to fall apart. When our eyes met, a genuine smile finally reached mine. “Okay!” 6 When Liam came home that night… I was just placing the last bowl of soup on the dining table. He walked up behind me and wrapped his arms securely around my waist. He rested his chin on my shoulder and nuzzled me affectionately a few times. “Having a wife is the best. I get to come home to a hot, home-cooked meal every day.” When he leaned in close, a faint, unfamiliar perfume drifted into my nose. My body instantly went rigid. Feigning absolute calm, I reached down and pried his hands off my waist. I said softly, “Go wash your hands and let’s eat.” The second he turned his back… The sweet, loving smile I had plastered on my face vanished, replaced by an expression of pure, freezing ice. As soon as he sat down at the table, his phone was practically glued to his hand. He was constantly typing and replying, a smug smile playing on his lips, completely ignoring the food in front of him. I looked up, my tone heavy with implication: “Who are you chatting with? You look really happy.” His head snapped up. In that split second of eye contact, I caught the unmistakable flash of pure panic in his eyes before he forced it down. He quickly smiled and explained, “No one special. Just the guys from work goofing off in the group chat.” I played along, asking with feigned curiosity, “Let me see! I love a good joke.” The next second, he locked the screen, placed the phone face down on the table, and put on a mask of casual indifference. “It’s just guy talk, nothing you’d find interesting.” He avoided looking at me and quickly urged, “Eat up, the food is going to get cold.” The last remaining glimmer of light in my eyes quietly extinguished. The shy, genuine boy from years ago could now lie directly to my face without even blinking. In that moment, I felt absolutely nothing but overwhelming, suffocating disappointment. 7 After dinner, he proactively volunteered to do the dishes. I sat on the living room sofa, watching him in the kitchen out of the corner of my eye. He was doing the dishes with one hand while staring at his phone in the other, a massive smile plastered permanently across his face. It’s honestly hilarious. Six years of deep, genuine connection, absolutely obliterated by the thrill of something ‘new.’ After cleaning up, he presented a cake box to me like he was offering up a grand prize. “Wifey, I got you your favorite! Tiramisu.” He looked at me with eager anticipation, his tone exactly like a child desperate for praise. I’ve always loved desserts. I genuinely believed that sweet things could fix a bad mood. But right now, no amount of sugar could mask the bitter taste in my mouth. I stared blankly at the cake box, completely zoning out. Seeing my reaction, Liam gently nudged me. “Wifey, what are you thinking about?” I finally snapped back to reality and was just reaching out to take the cake. Right at that moment, Liam’s phone, which he had left sitting on the table, suddenly rang. Before I could even read the caller ID, he snatched it up with terrifying speed, as if terrified I would see it. Because he moved so frantically, he dropped the hand holding the cake. My outstretched hand grasped at empty air, and the cake plummeted directly onto the floor. But the phone just kept ringing incessantly. Liam was so desperate to decline the call that his finger slipped, and he accidentally answered it. “Liam.” A soft, gentle female voice drifted from the speaker. She sounded like she was crying. I looked up at him, perfectly capturing the raw panic flashing in his eyes. He frantically mashed the volume down button until the phone was completely silent. His expression instantly morphed into his usual, calm mask. He pointed at the phone screen and mouthed the words to me: “It’s a coworker.” Then he took the phone and practically sprinted to the balcony. 8 I watched his retreating back and actually let out a dry laugh. I didn’t follow him. I just stared blankly at the completely ruined cake splattered across the hardwood floor. It felt like a perfect metaphor for our future. About fifteen minutes later, Liam finished his call and walked back inside, just as I was scraping the ruined cake into the trash can. He looked at me apologetically. “Wifey, there was an emergency at work. I’m so sorry you didn’t get to eat your cake.” I smiled, my tone incredibly light and airy. “It’s fine. It got dirty, so I threw it away. It’s just a cake.” He stood there awkwardly, his eyes shifting nervously. I asked, playing the perfect, understanding girlfriend: “What’s wrong? Is it a serious emergency?” He said apologetically, “There’s a massive issue with one of our core projects. That coworker was literally crying on the phone about it. I have to go to the office and sort it out right now.” He quickly added, “I’ll buy you a new cake on my way back.” He used his standard, sweet, coaxing tone, his face completely composed. I smiled and teased, “Does everyone at work call you ‘Liam’ so casually?” His body went rigid, the smile freezing instantly on his face. I waved my hand dismissively. “I’m just joking! Hurry up and go, don’t let work wait.” He let out a very obvious, massive sigh of relief, threw on his jacket, and hurried out the door. After Liam left… I hailed a cab and had the driver tail his car. The driver was a chatty, friendly older guy. When I told him to follow the car in front of us, he happily agreed. He asked, curious: “Miss, is that your husband up there?” I paused for a second before answering: “My boyfriend!” He immediately sensed the dark mood and understood the situation entirely. He promised me: “Don’t worry, I won’t lose him.” 9 The car eventually pulled up in front of a bakery. The name on the sign was incredibly familiar. It was the bakery Liam had been buying cakes from for the past two years. He had barely reached the front door when a figure burst out from inside. She threw herself into his arms like a butterfly landing on a flower. The girl looked exactly like her photos—young, vibrant, and radiant. He reached out and gently ruffled her hair, his movements incredibly tender. The girl wrapped her slender arms around his neck, clearly whining and acting cute. Liam reached up and playfully pinched her nose, his face full of absolute adoration. I watched as the girl went up on her tiptoes and proactively kissed him. After six years together, saying I wasn’t heartbroken would be a lie. My nose stung, my eyes instantly turned bloodshot, and tears began to fall uncontrollably. The driver quickly offered me a box of tissues, trying awkwardly to comfort me. “Miss, please don’t be too sad. “My wife thought I was too poor and ran off with another man. “I lived off plain rice and hot water for a whole month. “But look at me now, I survived and I’m doing fine.” His words of comfort obviously didn’t fix the massive hole in my chest. But I was incredibly grateful for his kindness. I thanked him, paid the fare, and got out of the cab. 10 Liam and I started dating the summer after we graduated high school. I still vividly remember him confessing to me. He was so nervous he couldn’t even lift his head, the tips of his ears burning bright red, completely giving him away. “Mia… I like you. “Will you be my girlfriend?” When our eyes finally met, we both instinctively looked away. We were so incredibly young and inexperienced. Even though our hearts were bursting with love, we had absolutely no idea what we were doing. 11 That teenage boy’s love had been so passionate, so fierce, and so undeniably genuine. He would run across campus in a torrential downpour just to bring me an umbrella. When my stomach hurt, he would sit there and massage it for hours without a single complaint. When I woke up starving at 2 AM, he would get out of bed without a second thought and go buy me food. And back then, I would save my allowance for months just to buy him a high-end graphics card for his gaming PC. I would spend an entire month meticulously planning and preparing his birthday present. During winter and summer breaks, we would travel everywhere together. Meeting him felt like the luckiest thing that had ever happened to me. We were about to make the journey from high school uniforms to wedding attire. It had been six full years. But now, he had personally taken a sledgehammer to every single expectation I had for our future.

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My college roommates found out I was a certified yoga instructor and begged me to lead them in workouts. I charged them ten dollars a class, four times a week. Then, suddenly, one day, no one showed up. When I asked them about it, everyone ignored me. That’s when I discovered my best friend, Chloe, had stolen my business. She was charging them only eight dollars a class. But Chloe had only ever taken a few classes with me. She didn’t understand the fundamental principles of yoga at all. Sure enough, a few classes later, her overly aggressive physical adjustments resulted in a classmate’s leg being snapped in half. 1 Not a single person showed up to my class today. The dance studio, usually packed to the brim, was completely empty. A wave of disappointment washed over me. Was there some mandatory school event I didn’t know about? I packed up my mats and props and headed back to the dorm. But when I opened the door, I found they had all clearly just finished a yoga session. I stood frozen in the doorway. “You guys didn’t come to my class. Where did you practice?” Outside studios charge over a hundred dollars a session. Isn’t my ten-dollar class a massive bargain in comparison? But no one even acknowledged me. They threw me a few mocking glances and scattered with awkward chuckles. I suddenly felt like an absolute clown. I reached out and grabbed my roommate, Lily. “Lily, what happened? Did I do something wrong?” Lily turned her head, glaring at me angrily, and violently yanked her arm out of my grasp. “Get away from me! I can’t believe I actually treated you like a friend! How could you scam me like this?!” I was completely bewildered. “I didn’t.” Lily stepped into my personal space, her neck stiff with rage. “Don’t give me that bullshit! Tell me! How much do yoga instructors get paid per class outside?!” She was asking the right person. My family owns a chain of yoga studios. Both my mom and my aunt are certified Iyengar instructors. I started professional training with them when I was very young. By high school, I was already a fully qualified, advanced-level yoga instructor. So, I eagerly explained to Lily: “For a corporate class of 15 people at an outside studio, the instructor’s fee is easily 300 dollars!” “Bullshit!” Lily shoved me hard, furious. “We already investigated! Yoga instructors make 100 dollars a class, max!” How is that even possible?! Where did she get that information? My chest tightened with panic. “My family…” “Your family this, your family that! Stop lying! We looked it up. The Serenity Yoga Studio you’re always bragging about isn’t even owned by your family! The registered owner’s last name is Miller!” Lily didn’t give me a chance to explain before turning and storming off. But… the registered legal owner of Serenity Yoga Studio is my grandmother. Her maiden name is Miller. 2 Watching Lily’s retreating, furious back, a wave of intense grievance hit me. She wasn’t a malicious person. Lily was just blunt, outgoing, and honestly, a bit naive. She was easily manipulated by others; it wouldn’t be the first time. So, she definitely wasn’t the mastermind behind this. Then who was? My eyes swept over my best friend Chloe’s desk. Several brand-new, no-name yoga books were stacked on it. A terrible suspicion began to take root in my mind. Right at that moment, Chloe walked in holding her washbasin. The second she saw me, a complex mix of shame and naked greed flashed in her eyes. Instantly, she masked it with her usual sweet smile. “Oh, babe! When did you get back?” I stared at her dead in the eyes, refusing to say a word. She set down the basin, walked over, and grabbed my hand. “What’s wrong? Why are you looking at me like that?” Tears suddenly started pouring down my face. She was my best friend. Seeing her act like this pushed my feelings of betrayal to the absolute limit. “Chloe… did you…” Before I could finish, seven or eight girls stormed into our dorm room. The ringleader, Mia, roared furiously, “Oh, look who’s back! You greedy, money-grubbing bitch! Scamming your own classmates!” “Exactly! Were you raised in a barn?! Do you need someone to teach you some manners?!” Terrified, I stumbled backward. Chloe smoothly dodged behind the group of angry girls. Mia got right in my face, aggressively demanding, “Harper! When you said you contacted the factory directly and got us the absolute cheapest price on those yoga mats, did you have any shame at all?!” I was trembling with rage. “The factory gave us the wholesale price of 68 dollars, and they threw in the yoga blocks and stretching straps for free.” Mia violently hurled the two yoga blocks right at my face. “Who the hell wants your defective, ‘free’ yoga blocks?! Take them back!” “Exactly! ‘Free’? You were just throwing us your scraps.” Blood instantly gushed from my nose. A flicker of panic crossed the faces of a few girls, but it vanished as quickly as it appeared. I pulled out a few tissues and pinched my nose. Sobbing, I said, “I have the chat logs with the factory owner. You can look at them.” “Spit on it! Chat logs can be faked! You guys are all rats in the same nest! Who would believe you?!” Mia pointed her finger at me, screaming, “Let me tell you, stop playing the victim! Refund us the money for those yoga mats right now!” “Yeah! Refund us!” “And refund us the extra money you scammed us out of for the classes!” 3 My tears wouldn’t stop flowing. “Fine! I’ll refund you! I don’t need friends like you anyway!” “Who the hell wants to be friends with a scammer?!” “Haha, yeah! From now on, let’s just call her Harper the Scammer!” My nose was still bleeding, and I started to feel a little dizzy. “Give… give me back the… yoga blocks and straps I gave you. All of them.” Mia laughed. “You scammed us. Consider those things compensation for our emotional distress.” “You guys are going way too far. It’s not like you don’t know how much yoga mats cost retail.” I cried, swapping out the blood-soaked tissues for fresh ones. “Then how come Chloe was able to find us yoga mats for 38 dollars?” Hearing that sentence, my heart plummeted. My tears stopped instantly. I looked up, staring past the angry crowd at my “best friend.” Her eyes darted nervously. She stepped forward, gently pushing a few girls aside. “Alright, guys, let’s stop fighting. Even if what Harper did was wrong, she did lead our practice for a while. We should be grateful for that.” “Spit on it! Why should we be grateful?! She overcharged us massively!” “Exactly! We’re all broke college students, and she schemed against us. She has a truly ugly heart!” Chloe stood in front of me, acting as if she were rescuing me. “Hasn’t she been punished enough? Look, she’s bleeding.” “Serves her right!” “Fine. For your sake, Chloe, we won’t beat her to death today.” Mia tilted her head, glaring at me. “But I’m warning you, before you go to sleep tonight, you better refund every single cent!” The mob of girls swarmed out of the dorm room. Someone turned back and asked Chloe, “Chloe, what time are you teaching class tomorrow?” Chloe shot a nervous glance at me, then whispered, “I’ll send a notification in the group chat. Just wait for my message.” Then, she slipped out of the room as fast as she could. Lily, who had been standing silently on the sidelines the whole time, clenched her fists tightly. As if making a firm decision, she walked over to me. She handed me a hot towel. “Harper… regardless of whether what you did was right or wrong, I should have helped you just now. I had no idea they were going to get physical.” I pushed the hot towel away. Lily looked incredibly defeated. I forced a small smile and told her, “This is evidence. I can’t wipe it off.” “I’m so sorry, Harper. I’m keeping a close eye on them. If anyone tries to touch you again, I swear I’ll fight them myself.” Finally, a warm word on this terrible night. I shook my head at her. “I’m fine.” Then, I gathered all the blood-soaked tissues, didn’t even bother changing my clothes, and called my mom. “Mom, call the police. I got assaulted.” 4 Lily offered to walk me down, but I refused. She looked at me with anxious uncertainty. “Harper, maybe I misunderstood you. Just now, I didn’t see a single trace of guilt in your eyes. Only shock and betrayal.” “I didn’t do anything wrong. Why should I feel guilty?” She nodded vigorously. “Right, right! But Chloe… her eyes were darting everywhere, like she was hiding a massive secret.” I smiled helplessly. Lily was finally putting the pieces together. She grabbed my wrist. “Harper! She was lying, wasn’t she? I’m so sorry. But when I listened to her telling us all those things you supposedly did, I was just so incredibly angry.” I patted the back of her hand. “Just take care of yourself.” A tiny smile finally broke through on her face. “What do you mean?” “When you go to her yoga class, don’t follow her too deep into the advanced poses.” “Okay, okay! Don’t worry!” My phone started ringing. It was my mom. “Harper, come downstairs. We’re driving straight to the police station.” Grabbing all the evidence, I sprinted downstairs. As I ran past the neighboring dorm, Mia happened to see me. She yelled out, “Are you crazy?! Running out in the middle of the night!” Immediately following her, I heard Chloe’s roar from behind me. “Don’t let her get away! She’s trying to run so she doesn’t have to refund us! Everyone, after her!” So, as soon as I hit the second-floor landing, I heard the thunderous thump, thump, thump of footsteps chasing me. Like they were hunting down a thief. “Damn it, Harper! Give us our money back!” “Refund us! Don’t let her escape!” Hitting the first-floor exit, I sprinted down the path. My mom’s car was parked right at the East Gate. I dove inside instantly. Slamming the door shut, I saw those girls furiously screaming something at me through the glass. And Chloe, panting heavily, glared at me with absolute, undisguised malice. A sudden, bone-chilling cold washed over my back. Chloe was a student on a financial aid scholarship. She had once casually complained to me: “This world is so unfair. Some people have to walk miles just to get to school, while others are born sitting in luxury cars.” I wanted to comfort her so badly then. But her next sentence made me choke on my words. “Rich people all deserve to die!” 5 Chloe had hidden her true colors far too well. From the very beginning, she never had any genuine intention of exercising. She complained that classes were exhausting and everyone’s necks were breaking from looking down at their laptops. She heard yoga was relaxing. Since I knew how to teach it, she suggested I teach them. A bunch of college girls getting together, chatting and laughing while working out sounded like fun. So, I agreed. Originally, I thought I’d just be leading a few girls from our dorm. But to my surprise, Chloe went ahead and reserved an entire dance studio. She gathered over a dozen people to take the class together. She even told everyone that I shouldn’t be working for free, and they should give me a small fee for my time. She looked at me with those big, innocent eyes and asked, “Babe, how much do you think we should charge per person per class?” I looked at the group. It was exactly the size of my smallest corporate classes. So I cut my usual rate in half to $150 total. That broke down to $10 a person per class. When I taught corporate classes, a session was exactly one hour. When teaching my classmates, every single class lasted at least an hour and a half. I carefully observed everyone’s physical condition and tailored the poses to their specific needs. I absolutely refused to push them for quick, superficial results. I would never let them wreck their bodies just so they could hit some flashy, advanced pose to post on Instagram. I wanted my classmates to heal and strengthen their bodies step-by-step. Realigning the pelvis, resetting the lumbar spine, restoring the natural curve of the cervical spine. Chloe was the kind of person who appeared to have great flexibility. But true practitioners know: a stiff body is actually a treasure. Because it means the joints are stable and secure. The ligaments possess sufficient elasticity. All of this protects the body from injury far better. Even if, on the surface, they look a bit clumsy. Chloe was the exact opposite. In her very first class, she was able to force herself into the shape of several advanced poses. But upon closer inspection, I noticed she had severe anterior pelvic tilt, and her knee hyperextension was extremely dangerous. If she didn’t pay close attention, she could easily snap a bone. This is unfortunately very common in careless yoga practices. But looking back now, I realized she never took a single word of my warnings seriously. Instead, she thought I was just jealous of her. The girls practicing with us constantly praised her natural talent, telling her how amazing she was. I vaguely remember someone saying, “Chloe, you were literally born to be a yoga master.” “Yeah! Look at Harper, she’s been practicing for years and she still struggles with the splits, but you dropped right into it on your first try!” 6 It seems those irresponsible, empty praises were what drove Chloe to commit these terrible acts against me. And the girls practicing with her were all incredibly impatient, desperate for instant results. I gave it a few weeks, tops, before they started severely injuring themselves. “We’re here. Let’s head in.” My mom gently patted my shoulder, pulling me out of my thoughts. The police had taken my mom’s 911 call and instructed us to come straight to the precinct to file an official report. Taking photos of my injuries, gathering evidence, scheduling an official medical evaluation for the next day… It was 10:30 PM by the time they let me go. My mom then drove me straight to the emergency room for a preliminary checkup. The doctor said it wasn’t anything critical, just localized swelling and bruising on the bridge of my nose. My mom didn’t let the doctor do anything else. She just grabbed me and we left. “If it heals too fast, there won’t be anything left for the medical examiner to document tomorrow.” “Mom, it wouldn’t heal that fast.” My mom smiled and rolled her eyes at me. “I’m just joking. See? You smiled.” I hugged her, feeling like a little kid again. She asked for the full story of what happened. I recounted the entire ordeal, still feeling a burning anger in my chest. She put her arm around my shoulders and said, “People with massive disparities in wealth simply shouldn’t try to be close friends.” I stopped walking. “Mom, I disagree with that. History is full of people who…” She cut me off. “I’m not talking about financial wealth. I’m talking about this.” She tapped her temple. I understood. Chloe was short-sighted, completely blinded by petty, immediate gains. She lacked the vision to realize that if she simply practiced diligently, I could have easily secured her a highly-paid position at my mom’s company after graduation. My phone started pinging relentlessly again. A barrage of messages demanding money. I handed the phone to my mom. She smiled. “How do you want to handle this?” “I want to refund every single penny. That way, I cut all ties completely and they have absolutely nothing to hold over my head.” “Very smart. That way, even if they come crawling back to beg you for help one day, they won’t have a leg to stand on.” It was true. A 38-dollar yoga mat and 2-dollar yoga blocks? What kind of quality materials could possibly be used for that? The professional yoga industry had blacklisted those cheap materials years ago. Those things reeked of toxic chemicals. If you left them out in the sun and then breathed heavily while working out on them, they posed a direct threat to your health.

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My sister was experiencing a complicated, life-threatening labor, and our father, a top obstetrician, was the only one who could save her. In my past life, I called him without a second thought. After I practically begged on my knees, my father abandoned his honeymoon with his new wife, turned around, and performed the surgery. My sister was saved, but soon after, we received horrifying news. My stepmother, suffering a severe depressive episode, had thrown herself into the ocean and committed suicide. Before she died, she left a suicide note accusing my sister and me of bullying her for a decade. She claimed the honeymoon was her last lifeline, the final reason she gave herself to keep living, and we had destroyed it. My father read the note and claimed he didn’t blame us. Yet, on the day we celebrated my newborn nephew’s one-month milestone, he poisoned everyone’s food. “If it weren’t for you two, Evelyn would still be alive.” “How did I end up with two such vicious, evil daughters? For the things you’ve done, dying a hundred times wouldn’t be enough.” He dragged my sister and me into the bathroom and brutally drowned us in the toilet, holding our heads under the water until we stopped moving. When I opened my eyes again, I had regressed back to the day my sister went into labor. … The very first thing I did after realizing I was reborn was sprint to my sister’s house. But I was still a step too late. Pushing the door open, a thick, metallic smell of blood hit me like a physical blow. My sister, Chloe, was lying on the floor in a massive pool of her own blood. My tiny nephew was lying beside her in the blood, the umbilical cord still attached. Shaking violently, I dialed 911, frantically searching for a blanket to wrap my nephew in to keep him warm. The ambulance arrived quickly and rushed us to the nearest hospital. Just as Chloe and the baby were wheeled into the emergency room, my brother-in-law, Mark, arrived. “Mia, how is she?!” He was deathly pale. It was freezing outside, but he was only wearing a thin dress shirt. He had clearly sprinted out the door the second he got the call. Before I could answer, an ER doctor rushed out. He told us Chloe’s condition was critical. She needed immediate, complex surgery, and there were only two specialists in the city capable of performing it: Dr. Arthur Sterling at the City Center Hospital, and Dr. David Vance at the State General Hospital. Before Mark could speak, I blurted out: “We’ll go to State General! Doctor, please arrange the transfer—” “Wait, why State General?” Mark interrupted me. “Dr. Arthur Sterling at City Center is your dad! He’s been Chloe’s primary physician this whole time; he knows her medical history inside and out. Obviously, transferring to City Center is the best option.” I told him point-blank: “Dad is about to leave on his honeymoon with Evelyn. We shouldn’t bother them.” In my past life, when I heard the doctor’s assessment, I immediately called my father and begged him to come back. Chloe was saved, but my stepmother killed herself. Her suicide note was a manifesto of our supposed cruelty, framing my phone call to my father as the final straw that broke her. The smell of that toilet water was putrid and revolting. I absolutely refused to die such a pathetic, agonizing death again. “Are you insane?! What’s more important, a honeymoon or your sister’s life?!” Mark pulled out his phone and immediately dialed my father’s number. It rang for a long time before my father finally answered, sounding incredibly annoyed. “What is it?” Mark quickly summarized Chloe’s critical condition and begged him to come back immediately. “Dad, Chloe’s situation is incredibly severe. Transferring her right now is a massive risk. Can you just come straight to this hospital and perform the surgery here? I’ll have them prep the OR immediately.” My father usually doted on Chloe. During her pregnancy, he had her admitted for observation at the slightest sign of discomfort. Mark was absolutely certain he would rush back. But this time, the response completely shocked him. “Mark, who told you to say that? Was it Mia?” “I never expected you to join the girls in bullying Evelyn.” “I personally examined Chloe this morning. Her vitals are perfectly stable, and there are absolutely no signs of premature labor. Do you have any conscience at all, pulling a stunt like this just to trick me into coming back?” My father viciously scolded Mark and abruptly hung up the phone. Mark stood frozen for a few seconds, then frantically redialed the number several times. My father’s phone was turned off. Even Evelyn’s phone went straight to voicemail. The ER doctor ran back out, urgently asking which hospital we had decided on. They had temporarily stabilized Chloe’s vitals, and she was ready for transport. Since we couldn’t reach my father, our only option was the much farther State General Hospital. Mark originally planned to ride in the ambulance with Chloe, but suddenly, the pediatric team announced that my newborn nephew was in distress. He needed to be rushed to the Neonatal Intensive Care Unit (NICU), and a parent had to be present to sign consent forms. With his wife fighting for her life in one department and his newborn son crashing in another, Mark was completely paralyzed by panic, unable to make a decision. I grabbed his arm to ground him. “Mark, I will ride with Chloe to State General. You stay here and take care of the baby.” Mark’s eyes instantly turned red. He gripped my hand tightly. “I’m counting on you, Mia. Please, make sure she survives.” I nodded firmly. Chloe is five years older than me. Our mother died giving birth to me. We grew up without a mother. Our father was always consumed by his work, so Chloe and I practically raised each other. She is, without a doubt, the most important person in my life. Despite mentally preparing myself, seeing Chloe lying there unconscious, her face completely drained of color, broke me. I couldn’t stop the tears. During the entire ambulance ride, I kept talking to her, desperately praying she would pull through. Thanks to the police escort we arranged, the usual hour-long drive took only forty minutes. When we arrived, Dr. Vance told me he was still finishing up another surgery. He instructed me to go straight to the ward and find the Head Nurse to get Chloe formally admitted. Once he finished, he would head straight to our OR. But when we reached the ward, the nurses flat-out refused us entry. They told us, “There are no available beds.” Panicking, I said, “We spoke to Dr. Vance before we arrived! He authorized the admission!” A young nurse rolled her eyes. “Dr. Vance is rarely on the floor; he doesn’t know the current bed status. We literally do not have a single bed left in this department. It doesn’t matter if you know the Director, or even the hospital President. We can’t materialize a bed out of thin air.” I was on the verge of crying. I spotted an empty gurney parked in the hallway. “Can’t we just use that gurney? She can just stay on that! Please, you have to help us. My sister is hemorrhaging, and Dr. Vance is the only one who can perform the surgery.” The young nurse glanced at Chloe lying on the transport stretcher, then threw her hands up. “I’m just a junior nurse. I don’t have the authority to add extra beds to the floor. You need to talk to the Head Nurse.” She gave a pointed look toward the door with the ‘Head Nurse’ plaque. I understood immediately and rushed toward the office. Seeing the woman inside, I cried out in relief, “Aunt Nancy!” The woman was Nancy Lewis, one of my mother’s former colleagues. After my mother passed away, she frequently visited Chloe and me. Before she could speak, I grabbed her arm like a drowning person grabbing a lifeline. “Aunt Nancy, please, you have to admit my sister! She’s having a complicated labor and severe hemorrhaging! She needs surgery right now!” Nancy, who was famously known for her gentle demeanor, instantly scowled and yanked her arm out of my grasp. “Mia, I can’t believe you actually came to our hospital. Take your sister and go home right now. Stop causing a scene. Your father used to work at this hospital! Half the staff here know him! Acting out like this is completely destroying his reputation!” Her words hit me like a physical blow to the head. My ears started ringing violently. “Aunt Nancy, what are you talking about?! I’m not acting! My sister is genuinely having a complicated labor! If you don’t believe me, just step outside and look at her!” I grabbed her hand, trying to pull her out of the office. If she just looked at Chloe, she would instantly know I was telling the truth. “Mia, I have actual work to do! I don’t have time to play games with you!” “Your father just called me! He told me he was taking your stepmother on a makeup honeymoon, and that you and your sister were so furious about it you decided to pull this sick prank to ruin their trip!” Nancy’s voice grew increasingly stern and reprimanding. “Mia, I know you resent your stepmother, but raising you two wasn’t easy for her. I hear she’s even battling severe depression. You cannot bully her like this! And a hospital is absolutely not the place for your theatrical tantrums! Take your sister and leave immediately!” Listening to her, I felt like I was losing my mind. If my father were standing in front of me right now, I would literally scream in his face. I never imagined he would go to such extreme, sociopathic lengths. He knew we were transferring Chloe here for life-saving surgery, so he preemptively used his connections to ensure we would be denied entry. But this wasn’t the time to argue about his motives. I desperately tried to explain, “Aunt Nancy, you’re misunderstanding! We aren’t lying! My sister is actually hemorrhaging! I even contacted Dr. Vance before we came! If you don’t believe me, call him!” Nancy looked at me with profound disappointment. “Mia, you are crossing a massive line. I can’t believe you dragged the Director into your petty drama.” “Do you have any idea that Dr. Vance is currently performing a highly complex, critical surgery?! If your phone call distracted him, and his hand slipped, the surgery could fail! You could permanently ruin a young woman’s chance of ever having children!” “Medical resources are not your personal playthings! You need to call Dr. Vance immediately and apologize!” The girl on Dr. Vance’s operating table was young, yes, but so was my sister! Furthermore, before we left the first hospital, the ER doctor explicitly warned us: if Chloe didn’t get surgery within two hours, her chances of survival were basically zero. Thinking of that, I dropped to my knees without a second’s hesitation. “Aunt Nancy, I’m begging you! I am not lying! My sister is dying! Please, just process the admission!” I aggressively slammed my forehead against the floor, kowtowing to her several times. Nancy froze, her rigid expression finally showing a flicker of doubt. Just as she was about to step out and check, the office door flew open. A junior nurse poked her head in. “Head Nurse, are we admitting that patient in the hallway or not? They’re blocking the entrance to the ward and currently screaming at another patient’s family!” Hearing this, Nancy and I immediately rushed out of the office. At the entrance to the ward, the paramedics who had transported Chloe were in a heated screaming match with the family members of another patient. Apparently, the patient had accidentally bumped into one of the paramedics while walking past, and the interaction quickly escalated into a full-blown shouting match. Nancy quickly intervened, separating the two groups. After soothing the patient and their family and escorting them back to their room, she marched directly toward me. I stepped forward anxiously. “Aunt Nancy, can we process the admission now?” Smack! Nancy delivered a stinging slap across my face. “Where did you hire these actors?! They have absolutely zero class! Don’t they know there are sick people resting here?! Take these people and leave immediately, or I’m calling security!” My cheek burned like fire. I stared at her in utter disbelief. “How could you hit me?!” “Why shouldn’t I hit you?!” Nancy glared at me fiercely. “I am your elder! Don’t you feel an ounce of shame causing a massive scene in a hospital?! You clearly lack proper upbringing! You have absolutely no sense of decency or proportion!” You lack proper upbringing because you don’t have a mother. I had heard those exact words from countless people throughout my life. But it had never hurt as agonizingly as it did in this exact moment. Does not having a mother mean my words are inherently untrustworthy? Does not having a mother mean my sister doesn’t deserve medical treatment? I knew arguing with her was completely pointless. I violently wiped away my tears. “Fine! Fine! Nancy Lewis, you refuse to admit my sister? There has to be someone in this massive hospital who will! I’m going straight to the President’s office right now to see if he’ll handle this!” Seeing that I was actually going to escalate it to the President, Nancy panicked. She ordered two junior nurses to physically block my path. Then, she grabbed a phone and called security. “Security! We have individuals causing a severe disturbance on the maternity ward! Get up here and remove them immediately!” Security arrived in under three minutes. With a wave of Nancy’s hand, they began forcefully pushing us, and Chloe’s stretcher, toward the exit. I clung to the stretcher with a death grip, refusing to let them move it, sobbing hysterically for the entire floor to hear. “What right do you have to kick us out?! Isn’t this a hospital?! Aren’t you supposed to save lives?! My sister is critically ill, and you refuse to even look at her! How dare you call yourselves medical professionals?!” My screaming was so intense it drew a massive crowd of patients and their families. Even the two junior nurses seemed hesitant. They turned to Nancy and said cautiously: “Head Nurse… I don’t think they’re acting. Look at the woman on the stretcher. She hasn’t moved an inch. She looks like she’s genuinely unconscious.” “Yeah, she looks incredibly pale. Maybe you should at least quickly assess her before making a final decision?” Their words seemed to finally break through Nancy’s stubbornness. She hesitated for a few seconds and took a step toward the stretcher to take a closer look. Right at that moment, her phone rang. She answered it. “Dr. Sterling? Where are you? Your two daughters are causing a massive scene on my floor.” My heart sank like a stone. It was my father. The hallway was relatively quiet, so my father’s voice projected clearly from the phone speaker for everyone to hear. “They already caused a massive scene at another hospital, and now my former colleagues are calling me about it. Evelyn’s blood pressure spiked because of all this stress. I’m bringing her to your hospital for an evaluation right now. Kick those girls out immediately. I don’t want Evelyn to get upset if she sees them.” Hearing those words, I completely lost whatever shred of sanity I had left. “Arthur Sterling, have you lost your fucking mind?! Your daughter is hemorrhaging and needs emergency surgery! You refuse to operate on her yourself, and now you’re actively preventing anyone else from saving her?! What happens if she dies right here?!” My father let out a cold, cynical laugh. “Then let her die. I don’t want daughters like you anyway.” The call ended. I heard several people in the crowd gasp in horror. A father that ruthless is truly a rare sight. Nancy’s face hardened as she walked toward me. “Mia, you heard him. Stop intentionally antagonizing your father and your stepmother. They have it hard enough.” The moment the words left her mouth, someone in the crowd shrieked in terror. “Oh my god! So much blood!” Nancy and I whipped our heads around simultaneously. The blanket covering Chloe was completely soaked in thick, dark crimson. The blood was dripping rapidly off the edge of the stretcher… Pooling into a massive, terrifying puddle on the linoleum floor. The visual shock was so catastrophic my brain completely shut down for several seconds. Then, I threw myself onto the stretcher like a rabid animal. “Chloe! Hold on! You can’t die!” I turned and screamed at Nancy with homicidal fury: “What the fuck are you standing there for?! Get a doctor right now!” The junior nurse standing next to Nancy snapped back to reality and turned to run, but Nancy grabbed her arm. Nancy walked slowly toward me. “Mia, you and your sister are taking this act way too far. That volume of blood looks like she drained her entire body. Did you use chicken blood or pig blood for this stunt? Before you try to fake a hemorrhage, couldn’t you at least Google what a real one actually looks like?”

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1 Three years into our marriage, my husband, Arthur, secretly became the sugar daddy to a college girl. I stared at the hotel receipts Arthur had racked up. He held his head in his hands and cried hysterically, claiming he had developed Dissociative Identity Disorder (DID). “Serena, I didn’t cheat on you! The one who cheated is my other personality! “If I ever do anything to betray you again, I’ll kill myself.” Faced with his pathetic, desperate lie, I pretended to believe him completely. But when I turned around and picked out a handsome college boy for myself, Arthur was furious. “Serena, we aren’t even divorced yet! How could you cheat on me?!” I pulled out a medical report from the hospital, wiped my tears, and explained: “The doctor said I also developed DID. My other personality really needed some comfort.” When I finally held another man’s hand and finalized the divorce, Arthur regretted everything. 2 On our wedding anniversary, I booked an appointment with a top psychiatrist. Halfway through the consultation, I received a credit card alert for a hotel charge from Arthur, who was supposedly on a two-day business trip. I checked his phone’s location. He was at a couples’ boutique hotel not far from the hospital. Panic set in immediately. Ignoring the rest of my appointment, I ran to the hotel entrance and called him. “Honey, you must be working so hard on this business trip. I just got the alert for the $3,000 charge.” On the other end, Arthur lied smoothly and calmly: “Wife, I’ve been working so hard for the company these past two days. I’m exhausted. When I get back, you really need to reward me properly.” My eyes darkened, and I asked weakly: “Reward you with what?” “I’ve been traveling too much, it’s exhausting. I recently hired an assistant for the company.” Staring at his location dot on my phone, I sobbed softly and called out his lie: “The company is at its busiest right now, and you’re using company funds to go on a vacation. Whenever you run out of money, you always find some excuse to ask me for more, don’t you?” Arthur acted like he didn’t even hear me crying. He interrupted me impatiently. “Look, my decision is final. I’m hiring an assistant for myself. Why does a nagging old woman like you need to control everything?” “…” He hung up. I walked straight into the couples’ hotel. Using a photo of Arthur’s ID, I got the room number from the front desk and walked right up to the door. When I opened it, I saw Arthur sitting stiffly, fully dressed in his suit. And sitting across from him was a young woman in her early twenties. Arthur turned, his smile freezing instantly. His voice dropped low as he asked: “Wife, what are you doing here? Do you always have to check up on me? Isn’t it exhausting?” I stared at the woman next to him, pressing my lips together tightly before asking: “Is she the assistant you’re hiring?” Arthur’s eyes darted around shiftily, but his tone was incredibly self-righteous. “Yeah! Chloe is great with people and very capable. I just got back from my trip, so I asked her to come here for an interview. “Wife, you didn’t think I was cheating on you, did you?” Faced with his ridiculous excuses and the woman’s smug smile, my heart felt like it had been plunged into ice water. I clenched my fists, asking him through tears: “What kind of interview requires you to come to a couples’ love hotel? An interview for a mistress?” Before Arthur could defend himself, the woman smiled and introduced herself. “Hello, Mrs. Vance. My name is Chloe. I’m Mr. Vance’s newly hired assistant. “Please don’t misunderstand our relationship. We are completely innocent. Absolutely nothing happened.” Arthur quickly smiled and agreed: “Exactly. If we were actually doing something, you wouldn’t have caught us this easily. “Come on, wife, let’s go home.” I could see the desperate avoidance in Arthur’s eyes. I didn’t want this to turn into an ugly public spectacle that would affect the company’s market value. I swallowed the chaotic emotions churning inside me and finally compromised. “We can go home, but I do not agree to you hiring a female assistant.” Arthur was furious at my condition, raising his voice at me for the very first time. 3 “Serena, ever since the day I married into the Vance family, I’ve never dared to look at another woman! “Besides, finding a female assistant is for your benefit too, so you can have more time to rest. “Serena, can’t you be a little more understanding? It’s not easy for us men to be out there constantly hustling for business.” Chloe naturally reached out and patted Arthur’s back, looking at me with an expression that screamed ‘I’m doing this for your own good’. “Mrs. Vance, Mr. Vance is a man. You have to give him face when he’s outside. “I don’t have to be his assistant, but Mrs. Vance, you must understand how difficult it is for Mr. Vance as a man.” Watching their overly intimate actions, I played along with Chloe’s words, feigning calmness: “Fine, I understand him. So, can you get the hell out of here now?” Chloe’s hand, which had been rubbing Arthur’s back, froze. She bit her lip and looked at Arthur with teary eyes. “Mr. Vance, your wife is swearing. Even uneducated country girls like me know better than to use dirty words.” The look Arthur gave Chloe instantly softened. He coughed lightly and looked at me. “Chloe’s had a tough life, Serena. It wasn’t easy for her to get into college, and she has a lot of student loans. If we don’t help her, wouldn’t that make us the bad guys?” Watching the man in front of me defending another woman, I couldn’t help but remember how he used to defend me in front of my parents. We were childhood sweethearts, practically raised together. Our parents had arranged our marriage when we were kids. I had viewed Arthur as my future husband for as long as I could remember. Whenever my parents scolded me, Arthur would stand in front of me, taking the blame and protecting me from their wrath. Until the year Arthur graduated high school, and his family’s company went bankrupt overnight. Later, because of our childhood arrangement and reaching marriageable age, Arthur married into my family, essentially becoming a dependent. In our three years of marriage, I treated Arthur better than I treated my own parents. But now, for another woman, he was calling me the bad guy. The corners of my eyes reddened as I forced down the bitter ache in my chest. “If I don’t help her, I’m the bad guy? What about her? Seducing you right in front of my face—does that make her a saint?” A flash of hidden displeasure crossed Arthur’s eyes, and his voice grew even harsher. “Serena, Chloe is my assistant now, and that’s final. “I have business to handle at the company. I’m taking Chloe to the office first. I’ll come home when I’m done.” With that, Arthur grabbed Chloe’s hand and walked out right in front of me. Before leaving, Chloe shot me a provocative, triumphant look. Tears welled up in my red eyes. During our month-long cold war, Arthur, under the guise of “business trips,” took his little assistant traveling all over. Rumors were flying throughout the entire company that Arthur was going to divorce me. The first thing Arthur did when he returned from his trip was bring his assistant to work. As soon as I reached the door to Arthur’s office, I heard him bragging to someone inside. “Chloe, from now on, just avoid making eye contact with your sister-in-law. She’s incredibly petty. “I can barely tolerate her terrible temper at home. You’re so much better—young and obedient.” Chloe giggled out loud. “You’re a great guy, Mr. Vance! Handsome and rich. Marrying your wife… it’s like sticking a beautiful rose in a pile of cow dung. “Sorry, Mr. Vance, I’m just very straightforward. You don’t mind, do you?” 4 My brow furrowed. Just as I was about to open the door, I heard Arthur insulting and degrading me for another woman. “How could she ever compare to you? She’s fierce all day long, like an absolute harpy. “I’ve been married to her for three years, and she hasn’t even been able to give me a child. I’ve had enough of her for a long time.” I violently pushed the door open. Seeing the naked man and woman lying in the attached resting room, my eyes instantly turned red. My fingernails dug so hard into my palms that they bled, but it couldn’t mask the agonizing pain in my heart. Seeing me burst into the office, Arthur frantically scrambled to put his clothes back on. He ran up to me, crying and trying to explain: “Wife, it’s not what you think! I didn’t cheat!” My lips trembled slightly, and my breathing grew rapid. “Arthur, I caught you red-handed, and you still won’t admit you cheated?! How much longer are you going to play me for a fool?! “Are you not going to be satisfied until everyone in the entire world knows?!” I looked at Arthur, my heart completely dead. But he grabbed a fruit knife off his desk, held it to his own neck, and pleaded with me. “Wife, I didn’t cheat! I did this because I have Dissociative Identity Disorder! It was my other personality that cheated! “If I ever do anything to betray you again, I’ll kill myself.” “And physical cheating doesn’t count as real cheating! In my heart, there is only you. If you don’t believe me, we can go to the hospital and check!” Listening to Arthur’s insane explanation, I suddenly remembered my own medical report. I looked at the hickey on Arthur’s neck, tears swimming in my eyes. I pointed at Chloe, who had finished dressing, and demanded: “Fire Chloe right now, and I’ll believe you.” Arthur frowned, hesitated for a long time, and finally said: “Serena, if we fire her now, how is she supposed to find another job? “I don’t want our relationship problems to hurt someone else. Besides, I don’t have any feelings for her. You are the one I love.” Hearing Arthur desperately defend Chloe, the tears I had been fighting back finally fell. “So, your other personality cheating… means you didn’t actually cheat. Is that it?” Before Arthur could explain, Chloe chimed in, smiling as she defended him. “Mrs. Vance, you’re a good person. The doctor said Mr. Vance’s second personality is a complete, separate human being. Naturally, he has normal physiological needs. “Please, please don’t misunderstand my relationship with Mr. Vance.” I took a deep breath, my voice shaking with absolute fury. “Arthur, is this really what you think?” Under my intense stare, Arthur slowly nodded. My entire body trembled, and my head pounded with a splitting migraine. Seeing my distress, Arthur was just about to reach out to support me when he saw Chloe collapse to the floor nearby. She looked at him weakly: “Mr. Vance, I feel so sick.” Arthur boldly picked Chloe up right in front of everyone in the company and rushed her to the hospital. I lay weak and helpless on the floor, watching Arthur’s retreating back, entirely powerless. Right before I passed out, I saw the face of a strange man. When I woke up, I was lying in a bed in the company clinic. 5 I sat up, opened my eyes, and saw a tall man with sharp, handsome features sitting beside me. I looked at him, slightly confused: “Are you the new intern, Ethan? Did you bring me to the clinic?” Ethan nodded nervously. After leaving the clinic, I had someone investigate everything about Ethan. I discovered that not only was Ethan a former classmate of Chloe’s, but they also used to be engaged! However, Chloe thought Ethan’s family was too poor, and they had broken up a long time ago. Ever since the day Ethan saved me, I kept “accidentally” bumping into him everywhere. The coffee shop, the office, the gym—he was always there. Until one day, Ethan asked me out to dinner. I originally wasn’t going to accept. But then I saw Arthur’s phone, which he had left at home. It was full of messages arranging dates and dinners with Chloe. My throat tightened. A headache so severe it felt like it was ripping me apart hit me, and I smashed Arthur’s phone into a million pieces. After a long time, I stared coldly at the shattered phone on the floor. Then I sent Arthur a voice message from my phone. “Dinner. Now. Tell me where you are, I’m coming to pick you up.” Half an hour later, I proactively linked my arm through Ethan’s and walked into the high-end restaurant Arthur and I used to frequent before we got married. Back before Arthur’s family went bankrupt, he often brought me here to eat king crab. But since we got married, he hadn’t brought me back once. This restaurant had a unique tradition: they invited couples to take a commemorative polaroid photo before their meal. With my arm linked through Ethan’s, I turned the corner and immediately saw Arthur and Chloe standing together, getting their picture taken. I shot Arthur an ice-cold look and said mockingly: “Arthur, where is the client you were supposed to be meeting? Did your second personality chase them away?” Arthur turned around and saw me standing with a man he didn’t recognize. His face turned pitch black. Pointing at Ethan, his voice trembling with anger, Arthur demanded: “Serena, how could you cheat on me while we’re still married?!” I held onto Ethan’s arm and smiled sweetly. “Why are you the only one allowed to have fun, while I’m not even allowed to light a candle? “Come on, Ethan, let’s go take a picture too.” Right in front of Arthur and Chloe, Ethan and I took a photo together, making a heart shape with our hands. Chloe, standing off to the side, immediately started mocking Ethan: “Ethan, I never thought a grown man like you would end up as a kept boy for a housewife. “Mrs. Vance sure has an ‘unique’ taste, abandoning Mr. Vance’s massive wealth to become the sugar mommy of a poor, uneducated loser.” Ethan stood next to me, responding to Chloe coldly: “Aren’t you a kept woman yourself? What makes you so high and mighty? “Sister, they’re so mean. Let’s just go eat and ignore them.” Ethan and I had a wonderful, incredibly enjoyable dinner. Arthur and Chloe stared at us the entire time, barely tasting their food. That night, when we got home, Arthur saw the drastic change in my attitude towards him. He glared at me with dark, brooding eyes. “Serena, didn’t I tell you? Being with Chloe is just my second personality acting up! “Why did you deliberately pretend to be with another man just to make me angry?” I pulled a medical report out of the drawer and looked at him with icy eyes. “Arthur, let’s get a divorce.” Arthur glanced at the report in his hand, then threw it directly onto the floor. 6 He mocked me coldly: “I get diagnosed with DID, so you suddenly get diagnosed with DID too? Who do you think you’re fooling with this fake report?” I wiped away my tears, my voice choking: “Believe whatever you want. I’ll give you the divorce papers this month. You have no right to restrict my second personality from dating.” Arthur stared at me, his brow furrowed deeply. “Serena, you can’t just do whatever you want just because you know I love you.” Looking at his hypocritical face, I couldn’t help but ask: “What about you? When you hired Chloe to be your assistant, did you ever consider my feelings?” Arthur’s face turned livid. Faced with my question, he chose to remain silent. I didn’t say anything else about his attitude. I simply, quietly found a lawyer to help me draft the divorce agreement. As I spent more and more time with Ethan, I realized my “second personality” actually genuinely liked this sunny, cheerful boy. To compensate for the guilt I felt, every time we met, I would give him small gifts. You know, little things like a car, or a house. But he didn’t seem to like it when I gave him those things; he thought they were too expensive. I had no choice but to settle for the next best thing: I used my connections at the university to directly funnel money to Ethan. As I spent more time with Ethan, I felt my “illness” rapidly improving. But someone always had to show up and cause trouble. After spending so much time with Ethan, the doctor said my condition had improved significantly. “Your second personality was a vengeful persona created by your deep dissatisfaction with your reality. “Just be careful lately. Try to avoid emotional triggers. With medication to control it, you’re essentially no different from a normal person.” Hearing the doctor’s words, I let out a sigh of relief. As I walked into the hospital lobby, I saw Chloe walking towards me, looking incredibly pleased with herself. She put on a fake display of concern: “Serena, you don’t look so good. Did you make Mr. Vance mad? Men just need a little coaxing. Don’t be so stubborn.” I looked at her smug, triumphant face and sneered: “I’m so rich the only thing I have is money. If you like the worn-out shoes I threw away, be my guest. Take them.” Chloe’s face flushed bright red. She glanced down at the medical report in my hand and burst out laughing. “Serena, you haven’t been able to give Mr. Vance a child in three years. He’s been sick of you for a long time. And now… I’m pregnant with his child. “Serena, you really need to start planning for your future. How are you going to survive without Mr. Vance’s money?” Hearing her words, I looked slightly surprised. Not because she was pregnant. But because she thought I couldn’t survive without Arthur. Thinking about this, I couldn’t help but laugh coldly: “Is that so? What if one day Arthur decides he doesn’t want you anymore? Will you still keep the baby?” Chloe probably thought I was just trying to scare her. She proudly pushed out her still-flat stomach, her words filled with provocation. “Mr. Vance told me that as long as I give him a big, fat son, he’ll divorce you and make my future child the CEO of the company.” The corners of my mouth curled up slightly into a faint smile: “Then did your precious Mr. Vance ever tell you that he absolutely does not have the guts to divorce me?” Chloe crossed her arms, her face full of mockery and disbelief. “Impossible. Mr. Vance said he lost feelings for you a long time ago. He’s sick and tired of waking up next to you every day. “Mr. Vance loves me now. As soon as my baby is born, he’s definitely going to divorce you.” I looked at the incredibly impatient woman in front of me. After thinking for a moment, I gave her a suggestion. “Since your love is so grand and profound that you need a shotgun wedding, why don’t you go whisper in his ear and tell him to divorce me? “Then I can just take my little toyboy—your ex-fiancé, Ethan—and go live a free, happy life.” Chloe froze for a second, her peripheral vision catching a glimpse of my DID diagnosis report. I patted her shoulder and smiled sweetly: “I’ll be waiting for the day you make Arthur divorce me.” I walked out of the hospital, feeling a bit chaotic. 7 I was probably just thoroughly disgusted by Chloe. So, I went to a club and, purely out of revenge, ordered thirty male models to dance for me. I got drunk after just one drink. I called Ethan, my voice choked with tears. “Ethan, Venmo me 50 bucks, and I’ll tell you the story of my one-night stand with thirty male models…” I didn’t realize Ethan had me on speakerphone. Arthur’s voice suddenly blasted through the phone. “Serena, you’ve got some nerve! We aren’t even divorced yet, and not only are you keeping Ethan as your sugar baby, but you’re also going to clubs to order male models! Do you have any respect for me as your husband at all?!” The alcohol went straight to my head. I yelled into the phone: “Is that Arthur, that little bitch?!” Then I heard the sound of teeth grinding aggressively on the other end. I assumed it was Arthur. Only his teeth grinding sounded that awful. “Serena, where are you right now? Stop embarrassing me in public.” Hearing Arthur’s disgusted tone, I frowned. “Give the phone back to Ethan. I’m talking to Ethan. This is none of your business.” While watching the male models dance, I kept urging Ethan to come keep me company. Half an hour later, they arrived together. Watching them walk in unison, I asked curiously: “Why are you two together? Don’t tell me Arthur is jealous and deliberately picking a fight with Ethan? “Or are you, Ethan, upset that I haven’t divorced Arthur yet, and you want me to do it?” Arthur’s face was ashen. He answered before Ethan could: “I’m not jealous! Even if I was, it’s because we are husband and wife. As my wife, you are not allowed to stray! “Also, I didn’t cheat! You can’t blame me for the things my second personality did!” I never realized Arthur’s skin was this thick. Even now, he still refused to admit that he cheated. Using my liquid courage, I gave Arthur the middle finger and mocked him. “Tsk. What a classless, garbage man. Still refusing to admit it. You’re completely ruining my mood to watch these male models.” The moment I shifted my gaze back to the male models, Ethan stepped in front of me. He bit his lip, asking in a low voice: “Sister, are they better looking than me? You can’t even tear your eyes away.” I seriously re-evaluated Ethan’s impossibly handsome face, then glanced at the decent, but clearly heavily makeup-reliant faces of the male models. And finally, I glanced at Arthur’s dark, aged face. I seriously started wondering how I was ever blind enough to fall for someone as ugly and classless as Arthur. I thought for three seconds, then gave Ethan a huge thumbs up. “You’re definitely the best looking, Ethan. They can’t even compare to you.” I giggled and pinched Ethan’s handsome face, making Arthur so angry his face completely twisted. Furious, Arthur grabbed my arm and tried to drag me forward. The pain made me yell: “Arthur, let go of me! I’m not your dog that comes when called and leaves when dismissed! “If you don’t want to be with me anymore, just say it! We’ll get a divorce! “I, Serena, am not some desperate dog who can’t live without you, nor am I someone you can just pacify with a few sweet words!” Seeing this, Ethan forcefully separated us and pulled me behind him. The man who used to blush every time he saw me was now furiously criticizing Arthur. “Arthur, since you’re secretly with Chloe, why can’t you just let my beautiful, kind-hearted sister go?!” I chimed in: “Exactly! Arthur, you liar, you psycho! If you don’t let me go, I’m going to sue you!” Arthur raised an eyebrow lightly, thinking I was just playing hard to get. A cold smile appeared on the corner of his lips.

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My college roommate loved to label people. On the first day of school, she took one look at my designer outfit, rolled her eyes, and sneered, “Fake-brand freak.” To prove to everyone else that her “expert eye” was never wrong, she grabbed my handbag and took a pair of scissors directly to it. She laughed. “Real cowhide is soft and supple. This thing is stiff as a board. It’s obviously fake. Even if I cut up a hundred of these, I could easily afford to pay you back.” Just as the words left her mouth, my nanny pushed open the dorm room door. “You’re absolutely right, miss. It isn’t cowhide, because it’s crocodile skin.” She held up her phone, displaying a black digital wallet interface. “I am Mia’s nanny. You can transfer the funds directly to me. The total is $240,000.” 01 Freshmen were required to complete a month of basic training. To save me from getting sunburned, my mom arranged for me to arrive on campus on the very last day of training. She also insisted on sending Martha, the nanny who practically raised me, to live nearby and take care of my daily needs. And so, there we were in the dorm room. After Martha meticulously cleaned and made my bed, she carefully sorted the small welcome gifts she had prepared. She advised me, “Since you’re arriving late, Mia, giving these perfumes and face creams to your roommates is a good way to build goodwill and integrate faster.” I frowned. “Helena Rubinstein? Isn’t that a bit too cheap?” Martha quickly shook her head. “If you want to experience normal college life, you can’t give them anything too expensive.” I nodded, conceding the point. “Alright, you should go now. They’ll be back soon. You can come back when the room is empty.” 02 After Martha left, I excitedly inspected the dorm room. I had been pampered and sheltered by my parents since I was born. Driven everywhere by a chauffeur, constantly accompanied by a nanny at home. It was incredibly boring. So, for college, I insisted on living in the dorms to finally experience communal student life. But my excitement only lasted a few seconds before I noticed something. One of my roommates had several high-end knockoff designer bags sitting on her desk. Immediately after, the dorm door was pushed open. Two deeply tanned girls walked in. They looked exhausted, but their eyes lit up the moment they saw me. They asked excitedly, “Are you our last roommate, Mia Sterling?” One of them, a very skinny girl, looked me up and down. She gasped, “Oh my god, you look perfectly put together, like a rich heiress from a TV show!” The other chimed in, equally enthusiastic, “Yeah, exactly! Your skin is literally glowing.” She gently poked my arm. And squealed, “You’re so soft!” Seeing how cheerful and outgoing they were, I couldn’t help but laugh along. I handed them the gift bags Martha had prepared. “It’s an honor to be your roommate. I look forward to getting along with you all.” Just as the words left my mouth, the door banged open. A girl who had clearly been rigorous about her sun protection, looking quite glamorous, strutted into the room. She gave me a single, sweeping glance. Then drawled lazily, “Fake-brand freak.” She walked straight over to the desk with the knockoff bags and sat down. 03 The cheerful atmosphere instantly evaporated, replaced by suffocating awkwardness. The skinny roommate tugged my sleeve and whispered kindly, “Chloe Vance comes from a really rich family too. She just has a terrible temper. Try not to let her get to you.” She then peeked into the gift bag, pulling out the face cream, and gasped loudly. “Oh my god, Mia, are you actually a real-life heiress?! You’re giving us Helena Rubinstein ‘Black Bandage’ cream on the first day?! Holy crap!!!” The other roommate joined in the exaggerated gratitude. “Lord above, has the trope of ‘rich heiress’s loyal sidekick’ finally chosen me?!” She dramatically dropped to one knee. “My lady, I am your humble servant. Should you require anything in the future, please do not hesitate to command me.” Her comedic timing was perfect. The three of us burst into laughter. But Chloe, sitting off to the side, suddenly grabbed the gift bag I had placed on her desk and violently smashed it onto the floor. She snapped at the other two, “Are you two actually that broke? Someone throws a little fake garbage at you, and you drop to your knees acting like grateful dogs?” Her voice was shrill and grating. “I should just start calling you two broke little mutts. You’ll accept anyone as your master. If someone fed you shit, you’d probably wag your tails happily.” Furious at her absolute rudeness, I demanded, “What gives you the right to say these are fake?” Chloe didn’t even blink. “Because my mom has gone through over a hundred jars of that stuff! I can spot a fake a mile away!” As if she needed to prove a point, she grabbed the handbag sitting on my desk and held it up to the other two roommates. “Do you two even know what this logo means?” They shook their heads. She scoffed. “Hermès. I went shopping at their boutique with my mom right before the semester started, and they absolutely did not have this model.” She slammed the bag back onto the desk. “You desperate poser.” “I’ve seen millions of girls like you. You’re just trying to fake a wealthy persona so you can snag a sugar daddy!” “If you’re so rich, why the hell are you living in a dorm? Why didn’t your parents just buy you a penthouse near campus?” Seeing my face flush red, she looked incredibly smug. “What? Did I hit a nerve? Are you triggered?” To definitively prove her point, she dug a pair of scissors out of her desk. She grabbed my bag and drove the scissors right into it. With several forceful slashes, the bag was covered in jagged, deep cuts. Chloe panted slightly from the effort. “See?! Real Hermès bags are made of premium cowhide! They’re soft! This piece of garbage is stiff as a board. It’s obviously fake.” She glared at me triumphantly. “I’ve seen plenty of girls trying to fake it till they make it.” “Running into me is your worst nightmare!” She pulled out her phone, looking down at me with absolute arrogance. “Give me your Zelle or Venmo.” “For a fake piece of trash like this, even if I cut up a hundred of them, I could easily afford to pay you back.” Right at that moment, Martha, carrying a beautifully crafted insulated lunchbox, appeared in the doorway, her face dark as a thundercloud. I knew this was bad. That bag was my birthday present from Martha. She had saved up for over half a year to buy it for me. Her heart had to be breaking. I expected her to completely lose her temper. But she maintained her elegant, refined composure perfectly. “You’re absolutely right, miss. It isn’t cowhide, because it’s crocodile skin.” “And it makes perfect sense that you haven’t seen it, because it’s an unreleased model from next spring’s collection.” She pulled out her phone, displaying a black digital wallet interface indicating an ultra-high-tier account. “I am Mia’s nanny. You can transfer the funds directly to me. The total is $240,000.” Seeing Chloe freeze in shock, she added smoothly, “With how arrogant you’re acting, surely you wouldn’t have trouble producing such a trivial amount, right?” 04 Martha’s presence was incredibly intimidating. The black digital wallet interface instantly shattered Chloe’s arrogant facade. But she quickly recovered her composure, letting out a harsh scoff. “Wow, you scammers are getting bold, bringing your operations straight onto a college campus now?” “You carry a fake bag, hire some older woman to act as a prop, and have the audacity to try and extort me for $240,000?” She crossed her arms, glaring at me with absolute contempt. “You pathetic little sugar baby. The real reason you skipped basic training for a month was probably because you were recovering from an abortion…” She didn’t get to finish the sentence. A sharp, resounding slap echoed through the room, landing squarely on her face. Martha completely dropped her elegant, polite demeanor. She snapped sharply, “Who the hell do you think you are, spewing that kind of garbage in front of my lady?!” “Throwing around the term ‘sugar baby’—what, is that how your mother managed to birth you?!” Her tone was deadly serious. “Take a good look in the mirror at your own pathetic behavior. Your mother clearly couldn’t land a decent sugar daddy, which is why you turned out so completely classless!” After finishing her tirade, she pulled a wet wipe from her bag. And began methodically wiping her hand. “If I ever hear you spreading malicious rumors again, I will personally tear your mouth off.” 05 For a moment, you could hear a pin drop in the dorm room. My eyes widened in absolute shock. Growing up, Martha had always been the epitome of refined, gentle grace around me. I had no idea she could be this devastatingly brutal when angry. I gave her a massive thumbs-up. She really earned her title as the elite nanny who had successfully navigated the vicious infighting of my mother’s aristocratic family. Her combat effectiveness was off the charts. Meanwhile, Chloe, who had been completely stunned by the slap, absolutely exploded when she saw my thumbs-up. She never anticipated that Martha would actually hit her. And she definitely didn’t expect me to so blatantly cheer Martha on right in front of her face. She lunged forward, ready to retaliate. She shrieked, “Do you have any idea who I am?! How dare you hit me!” She threw all her weight into it, looking like she wanted to slap Martha into a bloody pulp. But I was honestly more worried for her safety than Martha’s. Because in her youth, Martha had been the national kickboxing champion four years in a row. And exactly as I predicted… The very next second, Martha easily caught Chloe’s wrist, raised her other hand, and delivered another brutal slap. This time, the force sent Chloe crashing to the floor. Martha commanded, “I don’t give a damn who you are. If you dare insult my lady, you are asking for a beating!” 06 The explosive argument quickly drew a crowd of students from neighboring dorms, who gathered around our open door. A few girls who were friends with Chloe pushed their way to the front, shielding her, and yelled at Martha, “Who gave you the right to come onto a college campus and assault a student?!” “It’s just a cheap, fake bag! Chloe’s family owns over a dozen coal mines; do you really think she’d misidentify it?” “It’s obvious you two targeted her because she’s rich and tried to scam her, and when she exposed you, you lost your minds!” The others in the crowd quickly chimed in. “Yeah, exactly! Forget $240,000; even if it was $2 million, Chloe wouldn’t even blink.” “Trying to run a scam with a fake bag—do you think rich people are idiots?!” Everyone was shouting at once. It felt like they wanted to drown Martha and me in their self-righteous spit. Meanwhile, the skinny roommate nervously tugged on my shirt and whispered a warning. “Mia, maybe you should just apologize to Chloe. She holds massive grudges. A few days ago during training, the girl standing in front of her accidentally stepped on her shoe. Chloe relentlessly bullied her until the girl was forced to drop out of school entirely.” Just as she finished speaking, Martha’s phone flash went off. She laughed cheerfully. “No problem! I’m just taking a quick photo. Later, when the police order Ms. Vance to pay for the damages, I hope all of you currently defending her are willing to chip in and help her cover the cost!” “Don’t try to run away when the bill comes due!” The moment she said that, the crowd instantly went silent. This infuriated Chloe even more. She violently shoved away the girl who had been defending her and screamed, “What the hell are you waiting for?! Call the police! I am going to prove to every single person here today that I was right!” Hearing that, I smiled and pulled out my phone. “Don’t bother. I already called them.”

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Because I went to the hospital a few times, I was jointly reported by the parents of my students. “Senior year is so crucial. As the homeroom teacher, you need to be on call 24/7. Will you die if you don’t go to the hospital?” “Even if it’s the weekend, what if something happens and we can’t find you? If you don’t even have that basic level of commitment, why are you even a homeroom teacher?” “At the end of the day, it’s just selfishness. Someone like this doesn’t even deserve to be a teacher!” I was both furious and shocked. For the past two years, I had poured my heart and soul into this class, taking them from the bottom of the grade to ranking first. I worked myself into the ground, getting sick in the process, yet I didn’t even dare ask for a sick day for fear of impacting my students. And after all that, I was being accused of being selfish? When my students found out I was reported, every single one of them had a cold, indifferent expression, acting as if it had nothing to do with them. My heart turned to ice. Whoever wants this homeroom teacher job can have it. A few months later, that same group of parents was standing outside my front door. “Mr. Vance, we’re begging you, please come back.” 01 I was reported. All the parents in my class jointly filed a complaint against me for being “irresponsible,” demanding the school immediately strip me of my homeroom teacher duties and my position as the math teacher. When the principal told me this, I felt like I had been struck by lightning. Ever since I took over this class, I had worked tirelessly, exhausting myself. I always put the students first, practically handing my heart over to them on a silver platter. And the parents actually had the nerve to call me irresponsible?! “The parents in your class are being extremely aggressive. They even said that if the school doesn’t meet their demands, they’ll escalate the report to the Board of Education.” My face looked terrible. The principal said sternly, “Mr. Vance, what you need to do right now is reflect on yourself. If you truly had absolutely zero issues, why would the parents collectively report you?” This was utterly baffling! How did this suddenly become my fault? I was just about to argue back, but the principal waved me off impatiently. “Alright, that’s enough. Go back and wait for the school’s decision.” Walking out of the principal’s office, the more I thought about it, the more depressed I felt. Finally, unable to hold it in, I sent a message in the parent-teacher group chat. “Parents, since I took on the role of homeroom teacher, I have always put the class first. I wouldn’t dare say I’ve given my absolute all, but I have certainly been dedicated and diligent. If you feel there are areas where I’ve fallen short in my work, you are more than welcome to communicate with me directly. Baseless misunderstandings and accusations truly chill the hearts of educators.” A few minutes later, a message popped up. Matthew’s Mom: “Misunderstandings? Are you saying we’re falsely accusing you? A homeroom teacher running off to the hospital every few days—do you think that’s appropriate? Who gave you that right? Who gave you that freedom? How are you supposed to focus your energy on the students like this? The final semester of senior year is so critical. Will you die if you don’t go to the hospital?” That barrage of blunt, unapologetic questioning left me stunned on the spot. 02 Two years of high-intensity work had severely damaged my cervical and lumbar spine. Every night, the pain was so bad I couldn’t sleep. My doctor strongly advised me to take a long leave of absence to rest. But given that it was already their senior year, I was worried the students wouldn’t adapt well to a new homeroom teacher. So, I could only squeeze out time on the weekends to go to the hospital for conservative, non-invasive treatments. As for resting, I figured I would at least wait until the students graduated. Even if you beat me to death, I never would have imagined that the parents would report me over this. I forced myself to be patient and replied: “Matthew’s Mom, homeroom teachers are human too; getting sick is unavoidable. Moreover, I only go to the hospital during my private time on the weekends. It hasn’t impacted my work with the class at all.” I didn’t expect her next words to be even more speechless. “Oh, please! Private time? What private time do you have? You are a teacher, a homeroom teacher. You should be on standby 24 hours a day!” At that point, other parents started chiming in one after another to agree. Chloe’s Dad: “I agree with Matthew’s Mom. If you’re going to be a homeroom teacher, you need to have that level of commitment. If you can’t do it, why are you even a homeroom teacher?” Ethan’s Dad: “Last semester, you took three consecutive days off to get married. I thought that was completely inappropriate at the time.” Noah’s Mom: “We only agreed to let you be the homeroom teacher because of your seniority and experience. If we knew you were going to be this high-maintenance, we would have rather had a young teacher from the start!” I couldn’t help but argue back. “Parents, I have developed some health issues, but I have never let that interfere with the class. These past two years, no matter how exhausting or grueling it got, I persevered for the sake of this class. If I really just wanted an easy life, I could have proactively resigned from my position as homeroom teacher.” But Matthew’s Mom retorted: “Give it a rest! You make it sound so noble, but isn’t it just for the money? Everyone knows homeroom teachers get paid more than regular teachers.” 03 My blood pressure instantly skyrocketed. In that moment, I wanted to curse them all out. It’s true that homeroom teachers get paid slightly more than regular subject teachers. An extra hundred dollars a semester. Can you believe it? Waking up earlier than the roosters, going to sleep later than the dogs. Spending seventeen or eighteen hours a day at the school. Endless homeroom teacher meetings, endless class administrative tasks, endless performance evaluations to write, endless parent feedback to reply to. Even on weekends and holidays, the progress reports and summaries never stopped. My phone was on 24/7, ready to handle any sudden emergencies at a moment’s notice. All in all, the workload of a homeroom teacher was more than ten times that of a regular subject teacher. Did they really think I was working myself to death just for that extra hundred bucks? Am I really that pathetic? The attacks against me in the group chat continued. “Not only do homeroom teachers get paid more, but they also get priority for ‘Teacher of the Year’ awards and promotions. There are plenty of perks!” “No wonder he couldn’t bear to give up the homeroom teacher position even when he was sick… Heh, I’m speechless.” “Damn it, if you want to make money, don’t drag our kids down! Do we owe you something?!” “Hurry up and get out!” I was so angry I couldn’t even speak. If I just wanted to make money, I would have left a long time ago. The private high school next door had previously offered to double my salary to poach me, but I politely declined. What was I doing it for? Wasn’t it for the students?! For their precious little darlings?! Ms. Roberts, the English teacher, couldn’t stand it anymore. “Mr. Vance has pushed through his illness for the sake of the students. Not only are you completely un-understanding, but how can you say such awful things to him? Are the students’ grades not enough to prove his dedication?” In the two years I had led this class, they had gone from being ranked at the bottom of the grade to being number one. That was an undeniable fact. There was a brief silence in the group chat. Then, one parent suddenly said, “That’s because the kids worked hard themselves. It would have been the same no matter which teacher led them; it has absolutely nothing to do with you.” Immediately after, a wave of agreement flooded the chat. “Exactly! My son studies until midnight every day. With that kind of effort, how could his grades not be good?” “The practice workbooks my daughter has completed could stack up as tall as a person!” “He really knows how to take credit for other people’s hard work.” 04 I was so angry my neck hurt. The students did work hard, but that study habit was only formed because I constantly pushed them. To put it bluntly, the students in Class 6 had a poor foundation, weak basics, and lacked any initiative to study. If they had been given a teacher with even slightly less sense of responsibility or slightly weaker skills, they would have been absolutely impossible to lead. Over the past two years, I had stayed up late countless times designing personalized teaching plans suited for the students in our class. I gave up my daily rest periods to offer one-on-one tutoring to the students, often just grabbing a piece of bread and a bottle of water for dinner. I gave free tutoring to the students at my home on weekends and holidays. I bought various study materials and prizes for the students out of my own pocket. I dare say I put more heart and effort into this than any other teacher in the school. But now, this group of parents was saying the students’ grades had absolutely nothing to do with me. Absolutely nothing! Furious, I typed: “Since everyone feels the students’ grades rely entirely on themselves, then how does me doing my own things during my off-hours affect them at all?” The parents all started arguing back at once. “What, do students only care about grades? Let me ask you, what if my kid doesn’t get enough to eat at school? What if they forget to drink water? What if they didn’t wear enough clothes and catch a cold? What if they feel sick?” “The kids are already tired enough from studying. The homeroom teacher should be responsible for chores like cleaning the classroom.” “Evening study hall ends too late every day. If you ask me, the homeroom teacher should be responsible for taking the students home.” Ms. Roberts sent me a private message. “Are these parents insane? Do they think a homeroom teacher is a babysitter?” Watching the messages constantly popping up in the group chat, my temples throbbed. I took a deep breath. Using my very last shred of patience, I said sincerely: “Parents, there is less than half a year left until the college entrance exams. I implore you all to trust me and give me one more chance. I promise I will do my absolute best to fulfill my duties as homeroom teacher.” But a single sentence from Matthew’s Mom instantly broke my composure. “You really are shameless. Are you just planning to seek revenge afterward and make things difficult for our kids?!” That single sentence completely broke my composure. Fine. Fine. Fine. I quit! 05 I had spent months developing comprehensive second and third-round review plans for everyone in the class. Forty-five plans in total, each one different. Even though I couldn’t continue leading this class, I still hoped to fulfill my final responsibility and show my care before I left. When I walked into the classroom during the afternoon study hall, a wave of complaints instantly erupted. “Damn, what kind of packets are those? Why are they so thick?” “Every day I open my eyes, it’s just study, study, study. I’m so tired, I seriously want to throw up.” “He’s taking up our study hall again…” These little brats. So what if they’re a little tired? What high school senior isn’t tired? Just as I was about to speak, Matthew suddenly asked loudly, “Mr. Vance, if we all get into Tier-1 universities, are you going to get a huge bonus of hundreds of thousands of dollars?” I didn’t process what he was asking for a second. “What?” “Otherwise, why would you treat us like pack mules every day? It must be because there’s a massive benefit in it for you. But since you aren’t going to teach us anymore, I think you should stop wasting your energy.” My face instantly fell. Matthew was a loudmouth. If he knew about this, then the whole class definitely knew too. I looked down at the class. The expressions on everyone’s faces were either impatient or completely apathetic. Which meant that knowing their parents had reported me, knowing that I—the homeroom teacher who had led them for two years—was leaving, not a single one of them showed even a hint of reluctance or sadness. What was even more unacceptable was that my students actually thought I was pushing them to study hard purely for my own benefit! In that moment, I didn’t know how to describe what I was feeling. I said coldly, “Oh. Then continue your study hall.” The moment I walked out, cheers erupted in the classroom. “Woohoo! The King of Hell is finally gone!” “Does this mean we’re liberated from now on?” “Finally, we don’t have to be forced by him to do those packets every day! Damn, do you guys know I literally have nightmares about him?!” 06 My heart was utterly frozen. I felt so awful I barely slept that night. The school moved fast. By the next day, a new homeroom teacher had been selected. Chosen exactly according to the demands of that group of parents. Single and unmarried. A docile personality. And she lived right there in the faculty dorms, truly present at the school 24 hours a day. The class group chat got lively again. Matthew’s Mom said, “Parents, even though this Ms. Carter is a bit younger, I have already spoken with her privately. She promised she will take excellent care of our kids.” “Thank you so much for your hard work, Matthew’s Mom! You really ran yourself ragged sorting out this top priority for our class.” “Oh, there’s no need to thank me. It’s all for the kids!” “Exactly, exactly!” I didn’t want to stay in that group chat for another second. After handing over my duties to the new homeroom teacher, the very first thing I did was leave the group. Then, I submitted my resignation to the school. The administration was quite displeased. “Mr. Vance, you aren’t some naive, immature young teacher. Even if you weren’t in the wrong here, is it really necessary to threaten the school with resignation? What teacher doesn’t suffer a little injustice? To put it bluntly, even if a parent hit you today, you’d still just have to endure it!” There was no point in arguing with someone who couldn’t understand. I didn’t bother explaining further and firmly processed my resignation. When I left, not a single person from the class came to see me off. I just considered the past two years of my genuine devotion to have been fed to the dogs. During my time off, I underwent a minimally invasive surgery. I woke up naturally every day, ate three meals on time, and spent my free time reading and watching TV shows. Not only did all my minor ailments disappear, but I also gained over ten pounds in less than a month. A few days after I resigned, it happened to be the first major mock exam for the seniors. Class 6 remained ranked number one in the grade. A few parents I had forgotten to unfriend posted on their timelines. “Facts prove that our children’s excellence relies entirely on themselves! It has nothing to do with anyone else!” “To certain arrogant, self-important people: No one in this world is indispensable.” They were just short of tagging me directly. 07 I felt absolutely nothing. No one understood that group of students better than I did. They had no internal drive; they only knew how to study passively. Without me—the homeroom teacher exhausting myself to drag them forward—let’s just wait and see what happens. After resting for half a month, Mingde Academy—the school that had previously tried to poach me—called me again. “Mr. Vance, as long as you’re willing to come, we welcome you anytime!” They reiterated their promise: they were still willing to pay me double my previous salary. Before going, I had one condition: I absolutely would not be a homeroom teacher. Being just a regular subject teacher meant I wouldn’t have to worry about endless class management tasks, wouldn’t have to exhaust myself maintaining parent-teacher relationships, wouldn’t have to deal with all sorts of bizarre people and drama, and wouldn’t have to worry about having zero personal space. By focusing solely on my teaching, I wouldn’t be heartbroken over investing my emotions and getting absolutely nothing in return. “Mr. Vance, you coming here really is a huge help to us. The previous math teacher went on maternity leave, and we were getting really worried,” the homeroom teacher of my new class told me happily. I was still teaching seniors. After Mr. Lee, the homeroom teacher, added me to the Class 2 parent-teacher group chat, I gave a standard, professional greeting. I didn’t expect the parents to get so excited. “Are you the Mr. Vance who used to be at First High?” “Mr. Vance, I’ve watched your public math lectures! They take complex concepts and make them easy to understand, and they’re so engaging and humorous! You teach brilliantly!” “I was getting really anxious, but finding out that Mr. Vance is taking over our class’s math… I’m suddenly not worried at all anymore!” I replied politely: “Thank you all for your kind words. I will do my absolute best to teach our class well. If anyone has any opinions or suggestions regarding my teaching, please feel free to communicate with me anytime.” I thought people would start adding me privately. With my old class, the parents insisted on adding every single subject teacher just so they could contact us at any time, completely disregarding any concept of boundaries. But to my surprise, not a single parent from this group sent me a private friend request. 08 “You’re too modest, Mr. Vance. You’re the professional. All we need to do is trust you!” Another parent chimed in: “Mr. Vance just arrived, so he definitely has a lot on his plate. Let’s not bother him right now.” “Right, right, right! I was just too excited and got a little carried away.” “Mr. Vance, please go ahead and get back to your work.” Perhaps because private schools are naturally more competitive and demanding, the students were incredibly proactive and driven. I quickly adapted to my new work environment. Over at First High, however, the new homeroom teacher for Class 6 didn’t seem to be having a smooth time. Less than a month into the job, she, just like me, was reported by the parents. The reason for the report was ridiculous: the teacher didn’t answer a parent’s phone call. When Ms. Roberts relayed the story to me, she was so furious she could barely speak clearly. “Just because she didn’t answer the phone, the parent actually marched right into the school and slapped Ms. Carter across the face!” I was shocked. They actually got physical? “Ms. Carter was literally teaching a class! How was she supposed to answer the phone? And do you know why the parent called? Just to have the teacher top up her son’s meal card! My god, how old is her son?! Does he not have hands?!” I remained silent. That was exactly the kind of thing those parents would do. When I was there, I had to be available on WeChat 24/7. Even if they called in the middle of the night, I couldn’t ignore it. If a student didn’t get enough to eat at school, didn’t drink enough water, or even got dirt on their collar, they would come to me. Parents with boarding students even asked me if I could help wash their kids’ clothes, claiming their children had never washed clothes at home before. Thinking back on it now, it was probably because I had refused so many of their unreasonable demands that those parents had long harbored a grudge against me. The parent who slapped her wasn’t just anyone. It was Matthew’s Mom. Being slapped by a parent in front of the entire class… and instead of apologizing, the parent played the victim and reported her. No human being could tolerate that. Ms. Carter immediately declared she was quitting. I quickly asked, “And what was the school’s stance?”

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Since I was a little kid, I’ve always been a massive poser. My dad was a gambling addict, my sister was an aspiring cam girl, my little brother was a violent sociopath, my grandmother was a raging misogynist, and I… I was a shameless poser. Until one day, I found out I was actually the biological daughter of the richest man in the state. After being brought back into the billionaire family, the very first thing I did was show off. The second thing I did was forget my roots. The third thing I did was post: [I don’t need a lot of money; I need a lot of love.] 1 Since I was a little kid, I’ve always been broke and a massive poser. Even though my family was dirt poor, I pretended to be incredibly wealthy at school. My dad was a gambling addict who owed a mountain of debt and spent years hiding out of state, working odd jobs. My mom ran off with another man and we never heard from her again. Whenever my classmates talked about their parents, I’d say mine were high-level corporate executives who flew around the world every day. “Yeah… they’re super busy. I barely see them a few times a year. But I mean, they do give me a few tens of thousands a month for an allowance.” “I just play golf in my free time, travel around, you know, the usual.” A rich classmate bought a new Miu Miu hair clip and asked why I never wore designer brands. I stared at my fingernails with practiced indifference. “My parents always tell me to keep a low profile, so they only buy me niche, boutique brands. This sweater I’m wearing was custom-made by hand in France.” I discreetly hid the unravelling thread on my sleeve and offered a perfect, condescending smile. “Compared to those mass-produced luxury goods, it’s the difference between something with a soul and something without one, obviously.” For the end-of-the-year talent show, the rehearsal fees and costumes cost a total of two hundred dollars. I was the only person in the entire class who didn’t participate. I raised my hand elegantly. “Teacher, I’ll pass on the rehearsals. I have my one-on-one private piano lessons every day.” After school, a classmate asked me: “Chloe, why isn’t your driver here to pick you up yet?” I intentionally dawdled, refusing to leave. “I told my driver to bring the blue Ferrari today. It might take a little longer. Ugh, I’m used to it. Getting the car ready takes time, after all.” My classmate: “Okay, well, I’m going to head out.” 2 I didn’t dare sneak out of the school gates until every single person was gone, running all the way back to my cramped, dingy house. My younger sister, who was a year younger than me, had her face caked in heavy makeup and was live-streaming some borderline-inappropriate dance. She used to date some punk with bleached blonde hair at school, constantly got into fights, and was eventually expelled. Seeing me walk in, she answered a phone call, then immediately started bossing me around: “Hey, sis. Spot me eight bucks. I’ll pay you back when I get some cash.” I rolled my eyes at her and rejected her flat out. “No.” “Ew, are you looking down on me?” She flew into a rage and glared at me. Then she screamed into her phone: “It’s just a cup of boba! Do you think I can’t afford it?! “Girl, emergency. Spot me some cash.” She started calling her “gang” of street friends one by one. After making dozens of calls, she finally managed to scrape together eight dollars. She smugly winked at me. “Once we’re out in the real world, we’ll see who’s really the boss!” Absolutely delusional. My fingers twitched, suppressing the overwhelming urge to slap her across the face. Whatever. It had nothing to do with me anyway. 3 When I got back to my room, I found that the hundred-dollar bill I had in my drawer was missing. That was the money I had painstakingly saved up, trading all my loose change for one crisp, new bill, specifically so I wouldn’t expose my lie when paying the class fees. “Who touched my things?” My grandmother, holding my violent, sociopathic little brother in the kitchen, looked guilty and wouldn’t meet my eyes. I walked right up to her and asked blankly: “Did you steal my money?” “What do you mean ‘steal’?! You’re the older sister, what’s wrong with spending a little money on your brother?” She shoved me hard, not forgetting to add sarcastically: “Who knows how you even got that money anyway? Tsk, tsk. Better to spend it on my precious grandson.” My six-year-old sociopathic brother was utterly fearless. He giggled and made a face at me. “I took it! So what?! Grandma said your money is my money. “If you dare yell at me, I’ll tell Daddy to come back and beat you to death!” I looked down at him and let out two cold laughs. When our dad was around, I had to act meek and submissive to survive, catering to this little “golden boy’s” every whim. But now that the gambling addict had fled out of state to dodge his debts, he wasn’t coming back for at least six months to a year. It was time to show them who the real master of this house was. I grabbed him by the collar and dragged him into my small room. Before the old hag could even react, I swiftly locked the bedroom door. I rolled my wrists, a wicked smile spreading across my face. “Hehe.” I backhanded him twice across the face. He was stunned by the slaps, not daring to move an inch. A few seconds later, he burst into wails and charged at me, trying to hit me. I easily subdued him with a few more slaps. “Still want to fight back?” Hearing the kid crying inside, the old hag outside started frantically pounding on the door. While simultaneously cursing: “Chloe! How dare you hit your brother! Let him go! Oh my god, my precious baby…” I didn’t say a word. I just kept slapping him. Finally, the old hag outside broke. She compromised: “Chloe! I’ll give the money back! Let my grandson out right now!” “Money first. Slide it under the door.” “Here! Here!” She slid a bill through the crack under the door. I let go of my brother, whose cheeks were both swollen, and unceremoniously snatched the bill from the floor. After rubbing it between my fingers, I licked the corner of my lips. “Double the compensation, and I’ll let him go.” “You! You’re breaking your promise!” The old hag slumped against the door handle, looking like she was about to faint. But the sound of another slap from inside instantly woke her up. “If you don’t hand it over, your grandson might get beaten to death.” She sounded like she was having a complete breakdown: “I’ll give it to you! I’m giving it to you, stop hitting your brother!” After receiving the second bill, I satisfactorily let him out. “You… you have such a vicious heart!” The old hag hugged her grandson at the door, pointing a trembling finger at me. “Thank you for the compliment.” I offered a shamelessly sweet smile. 4 Acting as if nothing happened, I pushed past the two of them and slammed a bill down in front of my wannabe-gangster sister. “From now on, don’t tell anyone outside that I’m your sister. If you see me, pretend you don’t know me. Understand?!” Last time, she almost ruined all my hard work by shouting my name at school. Thankfully, my poser skills were top-notch. I claimed she was our maid’s daughter, and no one questioned it. This money was compensation for her silence. My sister looked at me with a lazy, sideways glance. “If you ever need anything, come find me, your big sis Lily. I’ll remember this favor. My street connections are at your beck and call.” I closed my eyes, forcing a smile after a long pause. “Just don’t say you know me. That’s all I need. Thanks.” The old hag yelled from the side: “Lily, if you dare take that money, I’ll have your father beat you to death! Chloe is being ridiculous, and you’re playing along?! “Give that money back to Grandma right now!” My sociopathic brother glared at us with pure hatred, crying and screaming: “You’re all bullying me! I’m going to beat you to death!” Acting like she couldn’t hear them, Lily started calling her “sisters.” “Let’s go. Big sis Lily is treating today. I’m taking you all out for a feast.” I sighed, went back to my room, and shut the door. What kind of cursed, catastrophic starting stats were these?! Whatever, time to read some revenge fantasy web novels. I found a novel about a real vs. fake heiress. When I read the female lead’s background story, I almost cried. What was the difference between her and me?! Oh, right. She wasn’t as good a poser as I was. Thinking about this, I suddenly lost interest and opened Xiaohongshu (a lifestyle/social media app similar to Instagram/Pinterest). The “stealth wealth” posts I scrolled past almost made me die of anger. Shanghai Princess: [Haha, you’re so funny. When I was studying in the US, my Ivy League friends never understood these jokes. I still prefer hanging out with you guys. Being alone in Beverly Hills gets so lonely. It’s so nice to be back in China. But I’ll only be at Harvard for a short time anyway, I still have to go back to Beijing. Even though my official residency is in Shanghai, my parents bought me a villa in the Beijing Manor estate in the East Third Ring Road to live in.] I had previously tried to build a rich-girl persona online, but I got exposed and had to delete my account. Right now, I was studying these posts frame-by-frame, determined to make a comeback. Just as I was thinking this, my sociopathic brother, who only bullied the weak and feared the strong, started pounding on my door. He had called his dad to complain. “She hit me! How dare she hit me! Waaah… “Isn’t her money my money?! Daddy, come back quickly and sell her for cash! Didn’t you say she was only here to pay for my future wife?!” And the old hag added fuel to the fire: “Exactly. She’s completely out of control. Because no one’s here to discipline her, she’s bullying my precious grandson, and she even knows how to steal my money now. “Oh my god, my life is so miserable…” “Shut up!” I gripped my blanket tightly and roared viciously. The noise outside the door stopped. Immediately, my gambling addict dad called me. “You little bitch, do you have a death wish?! Just wait until I get back and show you a lesson! You can forget about your two hundred dollar allowance this month! “Apologize to your brother and your grandmother right now!” I hung up the phone, grinding my teeth. I scrolled through my photo album and found a picture of my brother. I didn’t even need to edit it to make him look ugly; his natural face was already abstract enough. I used my burner account to create a post on Xiaohongshu, asking if he could be a child model. Watching the hate comments rapidly rolling in, I peacefully closed my eyes and drifted off to sleep. 5 With my allowance gone, and the old hag watching me like a hawk, I didn’t even have the chance to start a fight. After pinching pennies for a few days, I literally couldn’t afford lunch at school. My classmates curiously asked why I wasn’t eating. With 30% elegance, 30% disdain, and 40% careless indifference, I replied: “My parents said the food here isn’t healthy and told me not to eat it. “My family’s Michelin-starred chef prepares custom, high-end meals for me every day. You wouldn’t understand.” Someone questioned: “Then why are you drinking the school’s water?” I remained perfectly composed. “Usually, my family’s water is flown in directly from icebergs. But it’s too much of a hassle, and I’m not that delicate. I’m just treating it as experiencing the common life.” … When I got home that night, I froze the moment I walked in. My bedroom door had been smashed open, and everything inside was completely trashed and thrown everywhere. I rushed to the side of my bed and crouched down. The hundred-dollar bill I had hidden under the bedframe was gone. The old hag and her grandson were hiding in their bedroom. I pounded on the door with all my might but couldn’t get it open, leaving me completely powerless and furious. The living room was completely bare. There wasn’t a single cent left. What was I going to do? The class fees were due tomorrow. I had to swallow my pride, kneel outside their door, and beg her to give the money back. “The class fees are due tomorrow! That money is incredibly important to me. Please, I’m begging you, give it back…” Her mocking, sarcastic voice drifted out from inside: “Now you come begging me? Heh, impossible! “Just wait to embarrass yourself tomorrow!” I was so angry I could die. Just wait. The day I get rich, the very first thing I’m going to do is slap you to death. But mental fantasies weren’t going to solve my immediate problem. I agonized all night, having absolutely no idea what to do. In the morning, my sister handed me a five-dollar bill, winking at me sleazily. “Short on cash? However much you need, you can just ask your big sis! With my street connections, tsk, I can definitely scrape it together for you.” Heh. Thanks, but no thanks. I forced a tight smile, grabbed my backpack, and hurried out. 6 The entire way to school, I was trapped in a state of absolute panic and breakdown. What was I going to do? If I couldn’t even produce this tiny amount of money, my cover would be blown. Everyone would look down on me and isolate me. I would be ruined! It felt like I was standing in pitch darkness, with countless eyes staring at me, pointing fingers at me. HONK! HONK! HONK! The piercing sound of a car horn violently yanked me back to reality. I stood frozen in place, looking left and right. I was… in the middle of crossing the street? “Are you blind?! Do you not have eyes?!” The car window rolled down, and a man wearing sunglasses roared furiously. He carried an aura of absolute superiority; one look and you knew he was a wealthy second-generation heir from an affluent family. And he was driving a blue Ferrari. If only it were mine. Snapping out of my unrealistic fantasy, I meekly apologized: “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. I wasn’t paying attention just now.” When he saw my face clearly, the man suddenly froze. He opened the door, stepped out of the car, pulled me to the side, and asked with a frown: “What is your name?” “Huh?” I didn’t know what he was getting at, but I answered obediently: “Chloe Vance.” “Mm… you weren’t scared just now, were you? I was definitely too impatient.” He suddenly raised his hand and rubbed my head firmly. “Leave me your contact info. If you feel unwell later, just contact me. I can compensate you.” Why did this guy’s attitude change so fast? I nodded slowly, completely failing to notice that he had just plucked a few strands of hair from my head. Even though something felt a bit off, my vanity ultimately won out. While he was getting back into his car, I secretly snapped a picture of the luxury sports car on my phone. With his broad shoulders, narrow waist, flawless face, and superior aura, he was the absolute perfect prop for my poser facade. “Wow, is that really your brother?” “Of course! He dropped me off at school today.” Girls around me started screaming: “Oh my god, he’s so hot!!!” I proudly lifted my chin. “My brother is usually incredibly busy attending to various business engagements. He barely managed to carve out some time today to keep me company. “Like I told you guys before, this Ferrari is just the standard model. We have dozens of cars like this in our garage.” Gasps of awe echoed around me. Basking in their envious and jealous stares, I played the part flawlessly. “It’s really no big deal.” 7 When it was time to collect the class fees, I was the only person in the entire class who hadn’t paid. The teacher looked around the room, while I, forcing myself to remain calm, raised my hand. “Teacher, my family always just gives me a credit card. I don’t carry cash.” “You didn’t bring any?” The teacher frowned, then said, “Well, you can just have your parents Venmo it to me.” “Teacher, my parents are out of the country on a business trip. They’re incredibly busy and don’t have time for things like this.” I could lie through my teeth without even blushing. “It’s fine. I’ll just give your parents a call later. “Everyone except Chloe has paid, right? Since we have almost everything, I’ll take my leave.” She didn’t give me a chance to argue further and walked right out of the classroom. I gritted my teeth, having absolutely no idea what to do. I could only pray that my gambling addict father wouldn’t answer the phone. Otherwise, the persona I had painstakingly crafted over the past two years would be completely destroyed. Swallowing hard, I hesitantly opened the contacts app on my phone. Ask that rich guy for money? But why on earth would he help me? I was dreaming. I don’t know how long I sat there spacing out before my homeroom teacher suddenly called my name from the doorway. “Chloe, step out here for a minute.” It’s over. My heart, which had been hanging by a thread, completely died. Following her out into the hallway, I spoke stiffly, like a wooden puppet: “Teacher, is something wrong?” She looked at me sternly. “Chloe, why are you lying?” I kept my head down, not daring to speak. The students inside the classroom were whispering amongst themselves. I could feel their gazes darting toward me, every single one filled with malicious curiosity. “Your father said he doesn’t know anything about this! He said that at home, not only do you bully your little brother and your grandmother, but you’ve also started stealing money!” Her tone was filled with disappointment. “I never expected you to be such a vain person. Lying and deceiving your teachers and classmates at school…” Watching her lips moving, a loud ringing sound engulfed my ears. The overwhelming sense of humiliation from years ago surrounded me once again. It felt like I was back in kindergarten. Because my family was poor and my parents weren’t there to defend me, everyone bullied me and ostracized me. “Chloe is so pitiful, she doesn’t even have a mommy or daddy…” “Let’s go. Don’t play with her. She looks dirty.” Even when playing games, they would intentionally push me to the ground. “Teacher! I saw her cheat! She stepped on the line!” “Yeah, I saw it too!” “Me too!” … And now, my classmates were doing the same. Countless dark shadows pointed fingers at me, their gazes aggressive and invasive. “So Chloe was faking it the whole time. How shameless.” “A poor kid trying to play the rich heiress. I knew I couldn’t stand her!” “Let’s all stay away from her…” I didn’t do anything! Countless hands pushed me into a cramped, suffocating corner. The most innocent-looking malice poured down on me like dirty water. What exactly did I do wrong? Why did they all isolate me and bully me? Just as I felt like I was going to lose my mind, I suddenly felt a warm embrace. I looked up blankly and saw the older brother from this morning. He wiped the tears from the corners of my eyes and ruffled my hair with a look of mock disgust. My brain completely short-circuited. No way. What is he doing here?

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Arthur Sterling had always been fiercely, obsessively devoted to me. Yet, just because I went to meet that girl, he drove his car straight at me. I couldn’t help but ask, “Do you really like her that much?” Arthur looked at me coldly. “She was willing to take a knife for me. Could you do the same?” I let out a sharp, sudden laugh. “Absolutely not.” 1 Arthur had been hiding a mistress behind my back. He hid her for six months, and I didn’t suspect a thing. Until a week ago. I had my period, and out of nowhere, he remarked, “You don’t seem to get cramps anymore.” I froze for a second. Instantly, I realized that this bastard definitely had someone he cared about who suffered from severe period cramps. So, I casually replied, “Dr. Lee has been treating me. A few rounds of his herbal medicine cleared it right up.” Arthur didn’t even blink. He just gave a highly indifferent, “Hm.” Three days later, I flew out of the country for a business trip. He used that time to escort a girl somewhere. The photo I received was so blurry you couldn’t even make out her face. But the incredibly precious, overly protective way Arthur treated her was glaringly obvious. I wasn’t surprised that Arthur cheated. I was surprised that he actually cared this much. What kind of girl is she? Driven by curiosity, I secretly flew back home without telling him. I had my driver, Old Xu, take me straight to the apartment where Arthur was keeping her. Perfect timing. Arthur had just stepped out of his Cullinan. He carelessly tossed his bespoke, high-end suit jacket onto the backseat and pulled on a cheap, generic windbreaker. He threw on a pair of glasses, messed up his perfectly styled hair, and grabbed a generic laptop bag. I couldn’t help but laugh. “Is he cosplaying as Kevin from IT?” “A programmer?” Old Xu kept his head down, staying as quiet as a mouse. Once Arthur disappeared upstairs, I pushed my door open. “Wait here. I’m going up to take a look.” “Boss…” “What are you afraid of? Is he going to kill me?” … “He wouldn’t kill you either!” 2 Anyone with half a brain knew that the second I went up there and exposed his secret, things between me and Arthur were going to get violently ugly. Especially since our conflicts had been escalating exponentially over the last two years. The cold wars, the screaming matches, the smashing of things—it had become our daily routine. Our most recent blowout was half a month ago. I honestly can’t even remember what started it. At the climax of the argument, I grabbed a glass and hurled it directly at his head. He could have dodged it, but he didn’t. He just stood there, letting the bright red blood stream down his forehead. His eyes were freezing cold. “Is there even a trace of the girl you used to be left in you?” How hilarious. I’m not like I used to be, but is he? When he changes, it’s perfectly natural and justified. But when I change, it’s an unforgivable sin? Knock. Knock. Knock. I rapped on the door. Arthur opened it. He still had a warm, gentle smile plastered on his face as he called back inside, “Just leave it, I’ll get it.” He turned around. The absolute second his eyes locked onto mine, the smile fractured and shattered. The soft, gentle warmth in his eyes instantly froze into solid ice. The transition was so flawlessly smooth it belonged in an acting masterclass. “Who is it?” A petite, pretty girl poked her head out from behind him. Meeting her gaze, I paused for a second. Arthur shifted his body to block her. “Go back inside.” His low, serious tone confused the girl. A smile unexpectedly crept onto my lips. I stepped forward and extended my hand before he could stop me. “Hi, I’m a coworker of Arthur’s. I need to discuss some work matters with him.” Arthur gave me a flat, icy look, but silently accepted my cover story. “Stay inside. We’re going to talk outside.” “Is it inconvenient? Did I interrupt your time with Mrs. Sterling?” The girl’s face flushed bright red, and she waved her hands frantically. “No! I’m not Mrs. Sterling! We aren’t…” “Not married yet? Well, I’m sure it’ll happen soon. Make sure I get an invitation to the wedding.” Her face turned even redder, and she stole shy, embarrassed glances at Arthur. My smile grew wider. “By the way, my name is Mia Harrison. What’s yours?” “Chloe Lin. Nice to meet you!” 3 Chloe Lin. 19 years old. A student at University H. Exceptional grades, impeccable character. That was all the information I could dig up. Arthur had completely scrubbed the rest of her background. Ultimately, I never stepped foot inside their little love nest. Under Arthur’s freezing, intimidating glare, I smoothly followed him downstairs. “How did you get here?” … “Why didn’t you tell me you were back in the country?” … “How long have you known?” … Arthur took a deep, aggressive drag of his cigarette. “What do you want?” I scoffed out loud. Finally, getting straight to the point. “What do you think I should want?” Arthur tilted his head to look at me. “My relationship with her isn’t the dirty, sleazy affair you’re imagining.” “She has health issues. I’m taking care of her. That’s all.” I dragged out a long, sarcastic “Oh.” “And what if I don’t believe you?” Arthur’s face instantly darkened. My aura of breezy, unbothered warmth vanished completely. I got out of the car and slammed the door shut. “Mia.” I turned around. The next second, the terrifying roar of an accelerating engine echoed through the garage. Arthur had one hand on the steering wheel. As the car sped aggressively directly toward me, his eyes never left mine for a microsecond. He watched my pupils dilate in horror, watched my entire body paralyze in fear. SCREECH— The bumper stopped literally touching my kneecaps. Braked to a violent halt. My mind went completely blank. For a split second, it felt like a bomb had detonated inside my skull. The car reversed, swung around, and pulled up right next to me. Arthur looked up at me from the driver’s seat. “Do not touch her.” That wasn’t a plea. It was a lethal warning. “Boss! Are you okay?!” Old Xu stumbled over, his face the color of ash, his eyes filled with pure terror. As my knees gave out and I collapsed onto the concrete, I finally realized it wasn’t my imagination. He really, truly wanted to kill me. 4 Arthur Sterling had never been a saint. He was a guy who didn’t even finish middle school, yet clawed his way to his current empire. He was ruthless to others, but infinitely more ruthless to himself. When I was six, my garbage father used the excuse of taking me out to play to secretly meet up with his first love. While they were rolling around in a hotel suite, Arthur was stuck babysitting me in the living room, watching Tom and Jerry. I didn’t understand why weird groaning noises were coming from the bedroom. I asked curiously, “Arthur, what are my dad and that lady doing?” He cranked the TV volume up to the max and covered my ears. “It’s dirty. Don’t listen.” He was only a year older than me, but he took care of me flawlessly. It wasn’t because he liked me so much. It was because his mother told him that if he kept me quiet and distracted, she’d give him twenty bucks. That twenty bucks was his entire allowance for the week. When I was fourteen, my dad eloped with Arthur’s mom. My mother completely lost her mind. She set a fire and burned our house to the ground. Arthur was the one who carried me out of the inferno. Half of his arm still bears the burn scars from that night. He had no money for tuition, so he dropped out of school to work manual labor. I took a baseball bat and smashed his tiny, rundown apartment to pieces. I paid him $5,000 for the damages. He still refused to go back to school. Instead, he went to Yunnan to buy and trade medicinal herbs and local goods. He used the very first real paycheck he earned to buy me a princess dress. That year, I was fifteen. He was sixteen. My mother was hysterical. “Your father ran off with that slut, and you’re still hanging around the bastard she spawned!” “You really are your father’s child. I should have strangled you the moment you were born.” Logically, I probably should have taken my mother’s side. But tragically, Arthur was the one who raised me. During the years my dad was busy cheating and my mom was busy hunting him down, I lived like a complete outcast. Arthur was the only one who stayed by my side, expecting nothing in return. He could be filthy and covered in dirt, but he demanded that I always be spotlessly clean. He could be beaten black and blue, but no one was allowed to lay a single finger on me. He forbade me from telling anyone we were connected; he was terrified he wouldn’t be strong enough to protect me yet. He hated seeing me cry. He would always clumsily try to wipe my tears away. He’d fiercely, aggressively order me to hold the tears in. But years later, when I truly, finally stopped crying forever… he didn’t seem all that happy about it. “Honestly, if you just cried and threw a tantrum, I’d give you whatever you wanted.” “Why do you always insist on fighting me tooth and nail?” 5 I lay in the hospital for a day and a half. Dr. Vance, an old friend, told me to stay dead. “Fine. Bring me a pack of cigarettes.” “Smoking is strictly prohibited in the hospital.” “Then I want to be discharged.” “Couldn’t you just use this as an opportunity to quit smoking?” “You call this an ‘opportunity’? I’d be better off taking the ‘opportunity’ to just die.” Dr. Vance rolled his eyes, refusing to indulge me any further. “What the hell is actually going on between you and Arthur?” “Usually, if you so much as scrape your knee, he loses his mind. This time, he hasn’t even shown his face.” I let out a cold laugh. “Finally asked, huh?” “Must have been killing you holding that in.” Leo burst into the hospital room just as I was preparing to walk out, nearly tackling me. His eyes were frantic, his face completely pale. “Mia, are you okay?!” “Why are you here?” “Are you hurt anywhere?!” “Who authorized you to come back?” “Where the fuck is Arthur?!” “Is your assignment finished?” “I’m going to kill him!” … Not a single sentence I actually wanted to hear. I kicked him hard in the shin. He didn’t dodge. He just took it, then hunched his shoulders and leaned his head down in front of me. “I’m sorry.” I smacked the back of his head lightly. “Did Old Xu tell you?” “No, I looked into it myself.” This kid was getting sharper. As he grew older, his capabilities were expanding rapidly. He actually had the guts to run background checks on me now. “How did the business in the South go?” “They can handle it.” After reporting, he still looked incredibly defiant. “There’s no way I wasn’t coming back.” I laughed, irritated. “Fine. You’re the boss.” Leo followed behind me, grumbling and acting like a pathetic, whining puppy to beg for forgiveness. And we walked straight into Arthur. His expression was completely flat, and he was holding Chloe’s hand. So, since I completely blew his cover, he wasn’t even going to bother hiding it anymore? Leo froze for a few seconds, then his face turned murderous as he lunged forward. I kicked him right back into place. Dr. Vance stood awkwardly to the side, his face cycling through a spectrum of colors. It was a spectacularly toxic standoff. “Ms. Harrison, are you feeling sick too?” Chloe’s naive, innocent voice shattered the tension. I offered her a polite smile. “Just a minor issue. What brings you here?” She looked a bit embarrassed. “I have a scar on my back. I wanted to see if they could remove it.” I nodded in understanding. “Medical technology is incredible these days. I’m sure it won’t be a problem.” “A pretty, young girl like you shouldn’t have any flaws.” Chloe’s face flushed bright red. “You’re incredibly beautiful too, Ms. Harrison.” Arthur tightened his grip on her hand. “We need to go. The specialist is waiting.” “Goodbye, Ms. Harrison.” As we brushed past each other, Arthur gave me a polite, sterile nod. Perfect. The textbook definition of a casual acquaintance. On the ride back, Leo’s face was as dark as the bottom of a burned pot. I couldn’t help but tease him. “What? If I hadn’t stopped you, were you really going to brawl with Arthur right there in the hospital?” “Shouldn’t I have?!” “So you’re not afraid of him anymore?” He pressed his lips into a thin line. “Mia, you need to cut him off. Completely.” Hah! Silly kid. 6 I picked Leo up out of a stairwell when I was twenty. He was eleven at the time. His biological father and stepmother had locked him out of the apartment. It was the dead of winter, and he was wearing a thin spring jacket, shivering violently, his body covered in dark bruises. He grabbed my pant leg, mumbling weakly that he was starving. So I took him home, made him a bowl of instant ramen, and tossed in a sausage. At that time, things between me and Arthur were incredibly toxic. He refused to let me get involved in his business, ordering me to stay out of it and just focus on studying. But he was constantly getting injured. I couldn’t handle it. Money. Those few miserable dollars truly drove people to the brink of death. I surrendered to my mother. I told her I was done with Arthur and was ready to come home and inherit the family business. My mother mocked me relentlessly. But she also knew perfectly well that the shares my grandparents left behind were under my exclusive control. She hated me. But she also needed me. Since she couldn’t physically force me, she recorded my surrender and played it for Arthur. Arthur didn’t believe it. He believed me. So he was consumed by self-blame. He blamed himself for not being strong enough to protect me. When the self-blame became too much, we started fighting. We fought about situations, then we fought about emotions. Then we’d make up. And the cycle would repeat. Leo was an anomaly. I sporadically fed him and looked after him for about six months. Arthur didn’t interfere, nor did he care. But because Arthur always had a cold, intimidating, emotionless expression, Leo was terrified of him. Later on, Leo’s father discovered our arrangement. His cloudy, disgusting eyes looked me up and down with blatant, filthy lust. Leo must have heard something, because he used every cent of his saved-up allowance to buy a knife. He was terrified and completely desperate. I cooked him a bowl of noodles, confiscated the knife, and told him to stay out of it. I intentionally left the door unlocked, allowing the man to break into my apartment, rip my clothes, and pin me to the bed. I watched as his wife, who had followed him, burst into the room. They started brawling, and the man plunged a knife directly into the woman’s stomach. He fled in absolute panic, grabbing all the cash from my safe on his way out. The newly installed security cameras captured the entire sequence of events in high definition. He was arrested, convicted, and given a maximum sentence. For the person I was back then, it was an absolutely flawless, perfectly executed trap. Arthur didn’t say a single word. He just sat in silence, applying medicine to my bruises. After a very long time, he finally spoke. “You never should have used yourself as bait.” “If something had gone wrong, what was I supposed to do?” Those were the words that stuck with me back then. But there was another sentence, one I didn’t truly understand until years later. He said: “You’re filthy. Go take a shower.” 7 When Arthur got home, I was sitting in the living room reading a book. “Why are you still up?” “Waiting for you.” It was a ridiculously rhetorical question. He knew perfectly well I was waiting for him. Just like I knew with absolute certainty that he would come back. No complex reason. Just the simple fact that I had pulled Chloe’s medical records. Arthur’s hand paused halfway through tossing his keys onto the table. He yanked off his tie and sat down directly across from me. “What do you want to talk about?” His absolute, unwavering composure was incredibly suffocating. I stared at him in silence. “What do you think would happen if I told Chloe everything…” Arthur’s head snapped up, his eyes radiating lethal, freezing intent. “I told you. Do not touch her.” “And if I insist on touching her? What are you going to do? Run me over without hitting the brakes?” “Mia, I won’t touch you. But I can touch a lot of other people.” That threat instantly froze the blood in my veins. The moment I stood up, the heavy book crashed onto the floor with a dull thud. I grabbed my baseball bat. “I can leave her alone.” “An arm or a leg. You choose.” Arthur stood up. After a long, intense staredown, he slowly extended his left arm. Without a microsecond of hesitation, the baseball bat came crashing down. I heard the distinct, sickening sound of bone shattering. Arthur’s face turned ash white, and a muffled groan escaped his lips. He ground his teeth together, glaring at me. He spoke, enunciating every single syllable. “Are you satisfied now?” “Get out.” He dragged his broken arm and walked toward the door. I couldn’t help but ask, “Do you really like her that much?” Arthur stopped in his tracks, answering without hesitation. “She was willing to take a knife for me. Could you do the same?” In a fraction of a second, the entire room fell dead silent. I stared at Arthur’s tense, rigid back. He turned around abruptly. His face was even paler than before. His lips moved slightly. “I…” But I just laughed. Leaning back lazily. “Absolutely not.” 8 Chloe has a massive scar on her back. A knife wound stretching from her shoulder down to her lower back. She took it for Arthur. It happened early last year. Arthur suddenly went completely rogue, aggressively sabotaging my business deals. He was willing to lose a thousand just to cost me eight hundred. He refused to see me, ignored my calls, and offered absolutely zero explanation or reasoning. It wasn’t until three months later that someone leaked the truth to me. He had been ambushed and severely injured, and he was convinced I was the one who orchestrated the hit. The sheer, catastrophic absurdity of it actually made me laugh out loud. I spent a week tracking down exactly what happened and threw the actual culprits directly at Arthur’s feet. He sat in silence for a long time, then violently rubbed his face. “My fault.” “I lost my damn mind.” “So you think that’s the exact moment our trust completely collapsed?” I didn’t answer the man’s question. Staring straight ahead, I asked flatly: “When Arthur suddenly transferred to the exact same elementary school as me… did you orchestrate that?” “Yeah.” “Why?” “To manipulate you, obviously. His mom wanted to marry into the family, so she had to conquer us one by one. She always said that kid was a natural-born manipulator. He knew exactly what to say to whoever he was talking to. If he wanted to, he could flawlessly manipulate anyone into doing exactly what he wanted.” Just like he did with me. He would tie my shoelaces, fight off the fat kid who bullied me, carry me home through the snow, and when we dropped food on the ground, he would eat the dirty piece and give me the only clean piece of chocolate. The man took a long drag of his cigarette, squinting into the sunlight. “I remember you used to pack your backpack full of expensive snacks and fruit every single day. That was all for him, wasn’t it?” “See? Once he latched onto you, he didn’t even have to bother charming the old ladies in his neighborhood for scraps anymore.” Having heard exactly what I wanted to hear, I stood up, ready to leave. “Hey.” The man called out to stop me. “I’m out of cash. Wire me some more.” “Wait until next month.” The man’s face turned dark and hostile. “I am your father.” “And that is exactly why I pay your alimony every single month.” “That pathetic amount of money isn’t even enough to cover my food! The inheritance your grandparents left behind was supposed to be mine! I’m not dead yet, what right do you have to inherit it?! If you don’t give me the money, I’m flying back to the country.” A cold smirk curled my lips. “No problem. The second your foot touches the tarmac, I will have you thrown directly into federal prison.” The man gritted his teeth, glaring at me with pure venom. Suddenly, a malicious, twisted smile flashed across his face. “Do you want to know why his mother didn’t leave him a single cent when she eloped with me?” “Because he told her he actually liked you, and he refused to manipulate you anymore.” “If he actually ended up with you, his mother’s chances of marrying into a billionaire family would be completely destroyed. Of course she tried to ruin him.” “Tsk. How exactly did his mother put it? Oh, right. ‘You think you’re so tough? Here’s ten bucks. That should be enough to keep you alive, right?’” “That kid had a spine of steel. He didn’t beg or apologize once.” Instantly, my expression turned to ice. “Congratulations. You just lost half of your allowance for next month.” On the flight back, I didn’t say a single word. Leo kept looking at me with deep concern. “Mia, every time you see him, you get incredibly depressed. Why do you keep going back?” Why? Leo didn’t understand. Honestly, in the beginning, I didn’t understand either. Until the man himself brutally pointed it out. “What exactly are you hoping to hear?” “Are you hoping I’ll tell you that every nice thing he ever did for you was completely fake?” “Are you trying to prove to yourself that the only reason he doesn’t love you now is because he never truly loved you to begin with?” “Mia, you are a pathetic, hopeless romantic!” Because his insults were incredibly vile, I slashed his allowance in half that month too. This man was my father—the man who eloped with Arthur’s mother. My mother was a certified, hopeless romantic. Even after my father eloped with another woman, she continued to wire a massive sum of money to his offshore account every single month. She worked herself to the bone managing the corporation, fiercely protecting the Harrison family empire. And in the end, she pulled the ultimate, dramatic stunt. When she was diagnosed with terminal cancer, she refused treatment, letting herself slowly die. Her final, dramatic parting words were: “I release you, and I release myself.” My father’s official review of her tragic death was: “She was fucking insane!” What love did they actually have? It was an arranged marriage. If he refused, he’d be entirely cut off from the family fortune. Even I was conceived via IVF. In my father’s eyes, my mother was just a random NPC in his life. He felt utterly, inherently entitled to every single cent she gave him. I couldn’t stand seeing him live so comfortably. The very month my mother died, I completely severed his funding. He screamed, threw tantrums, and cursed me violently. He said I would die a horrible death. He said I was making the ancestors roll in their graves. I just laughed. Let them roll. They deserved it. The month after I cut off his funding, Arthur’s mother abandoned my father and ran off with someone else. Years ago, because his family cut off his funds, my father abandoned Arthur’s mother—his first love—and married my mother. Now, because of the exact same lack of funds, Arthur’s mother abandoned my father. Watching this spectacularly poetic karma play out, I practically applauded. Let them destroy each other. I only had one rule: They were permanently banned from returning to the country.

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The year I married Chancellor Sterling, I was seven years old, still just a little girl half the height of an adult. On our wedding night, Elias Sterling pinched my chubby cheeks and asked if I knew what I was supposed to call him. I looked up at him, beaming, and said, “Big Brother.” A smile appeared on his pale face. “Chloe is right. From now on, I am your Big Brother.” 1 The day my parents died in battle and their coffins were brought home, I was in the backyard making mud dolls. Within moments, white mourning banners fluttered across the courtyard. I looked up at them, not understanding why the colorful flags we usually put out were the wrong color today. Usually, when Mom and Dad came home, we hung red flags. Before I could figure it out, the Dowager Empress arrived. She hugged me, crying so hard she soaked my shoulder. I asked, “Grandmother, why are you crying?” Hearing my words, the tears she had barely managed to stop started rolling down her face again. It wasn’t until nightfall that I finally understood what was happening. I sat alone in the ancestral hall, tightly clutching the peace amulet my mother had given me before she left for the war. I wasn’t sad, and I didn’t want to cry. I just felt like a piece of my heart was missing. Mommy could never coax me to sleep again, and Daddy could never show off his sword tricks for me again. I would never see them again. 2 The funeral was incredibly grand. High-ranking officials from a hundred miles around came to pay their respects. Wearing mourning clothes, I knelt before the altars, bowing and returning respects to every guest who came and went. Until the evening. The sunset was tragically beautiful. I was mesmerized by the setting sun outside the door, remembering how much my mother loved watching it. Lost in thought, my wrist was suddenly burned by the fire in the incense burner. With a soft rustle, someone quickly picked me up and pressed a cool, wet cloth against my burn. He was very tall and very thin. Dressed in white, the autumn wind swirling around him, even his fingers were icy cold. “Does it hurt?” He asked me. I shook my head and even unwrapped the cloth to show him the mark. “Doesn’t it look like a burning cloud?” He froze for a moment, then nodded. I wrapped the cloth back around my wrist and, following the rules I’d been taught, bowed to return his respect. A pair of cloud-white shoes paused in front of me for a moment. When I looked up again, I only saw his thin, retreating back. I knew who he was. Chancellor Elias Sterling. The most respected and powerful civil official in the current court. 3 After the thirty-five-day mourning period for my parents ended, the Dowager Empress brought me into the palace. She had aged significantly, and a deep exhaustion she never used to have now lined her face. She beckoned me to her side, studying my face for a long time before her eyes turned red again. I knew she was grieving. My mother was her youngest daughter, doted on since childhood. “Little Chloe,” the Dowager Empress said, holding my hand tightly, eventually asking only one question. “Do you trust your grandmother?” I nodded. With my parents gone, she was the only person I could trust. “I couldn’t protect your mother, and I’m afraid I might not be able to protect you,” she paused for a long time before continuing. “I found someone who can protect you. I’m going to send you to his home, okay?” I asked, “Who can protect me?” She answered, “Chancellor Sterling.” So I said yes. And just like that, less than half a month later, I was “married” out of the Vance Manor and into the Sterling Estate. On the day I left, tens of thousands of commoners knelt along the main street. They watched my wedding procession, escorting me all the way to the Sterling Estate. The senior maid beside the Dowager Empress told me that because I was an orphan, everyone was afraid I would be bullied. The Dowager Empress’s reach from within the palace was limited, so she entrusted her bitter hopes to the commoners who loved and respected my parents. I thought that was nonsense. It was true I was an orphan, but I wasn’t some beggar child anyone could bully. I was the only daughter of General Vance and Princess Joy. I was one of the most noble women in the world. Whether the Dowager Empress protected me or not, I wouldn’t let anyone bully me. 4 The bridal chamber was huge, and very empty. Elias’s health was poor; he couldn’t touch a single drop of alcohol. So I didn’t have to wait long before he arrived. Once everyone else left, I quickly pulled away the fan covering my face and enthusiastically started fanning him. He looked at me in confusion. I said, “It’s an Indian summer. You’re so hot your forehead is sweating.” He chuckled softly, then immediately checked my wrist. The burn scar wasn’t obvious, but you could still faintly see it. He frowned. “Why did it leave a scar?” I said it didn’t matter, the shape of the scar was pretty anyway, like I was wearing a floral decal. The room was too stuffy, and my head was heavy with sleep. So I proactively asked him, “Are you going to sleep?” He smoothed out the blankets for me. “I’m going to the study. You go to sleep early.” I grabbed his sleeve. “Are you making me sleep all by myself?” He paused for a moment before saying, “Chloe will have to sleep by herself from now on.” I said “Oh,” rolled up the blanket, and quietly took off my outer robe. Elias quickly stood up, but I was faster, jumping onto the floor barefoot. “Big Brother!” He turned around, asking clearly, word by word: “Do you know what you’re supposed to call me?” I reached for his hand. The icy touch instantly calmed my heart. “Big Brother.” Elias bent down, picking me up with one arm. A smile finally broke through on his pale face. “Little Chloe is right. From now on, I am your Big Brother.” 5 That night, Elias coaxed me to sleep. He surprisingly knew how to sing lullabies. His soft, airy voice carried a warmth that burrowed into my heart little by little. With my back to him, the corners of my eyes grew wet. When my mother sang, she was just as gentle as Elias. I missed her. The next day, I woke up very late. Sunlight filled the room. I groggily opened my eyes, disoriented for a good while before remembering I was in the Sterling Estate. Servants trickled in to attend to me, but their respectful expressions held a hint of curiosity and scrutiny. They had never seen such a tiny new bride. Remembering the Dowager Empress’s instructions, I deliberately put on airs when speaking to them. Until a little maid’s stomach suddenly growled. I completely lost my composure and burst out laughing. I ended up rolling on the floor, clutching my stomach, laughing uncontrollably. When I finally laughed enough, someone walked into the room. He stood there quietly, radiating an aura of authority and aloofness without saying a word. “Madam is hungry. Serve the food. I will dine with Madam.” Elias pulled a handkerchief from his sleeve and carefully wiped the drool I had laughed onto my chin. I freed my right hand and grabbed the little maid’s hand. “There are rose pastries on the table. I’m rewarding them to you. Eat a little so you won’t be hungry.” She tried to bow to me in terrified awe, but Elias stopped her. “Madam rewarded you. Eat them before you return to your chores.” I hopped off the chair and climbed onto Elias’s leg. “Big Brother, carry me.” The little maid walked away blushing. Elias tapped my head, then obediently picked me up. “Did Big Brother just come back from morning court?” I chatted with him aimlessly. For every question I asked, he gave an answer. Sometimes, if he couldn’t answer immediately, he would frown and think before replying. Until I asked him: “Is the new Emperor good?” The man holding me froze. Instead of answering, he asked, “Why do you ask, Chloe?” I blew on a spoonful of congee to cool it and offered it to him, lowering my voice. “I hope he doesn’t bully Grandmother.” The new Emperor was a prince of a different surname who had ascended the throne. He wasn’t my grandmother’s child. Grandmother didn’t have any biological children left. The palace was so big—would she be scared? Would she be lonely? Elias didn’t say anything else. He just kept putting food in my bowl, telling me to eat well. Once I grew a little taller, he promised to take me to the palace to see her. I was happy, thinking that growing taller was easy. Which meant seeing Grandmother would be easy too. 6 Once winter arrived, Elias became incredibly busy. He woke up early and went to bed late, working like a shadow. On the Winter Solstice, a banquet was held in the palace, and Elias took me with him. I was bundled up like a little dumpling, layer upon layer, leaving the freezing wind no place to bite me. But looking like this had a perk: it made Grandmother think I had gained a lot of weight. She hugged me, finding it quite an effort, and smiled. “Good girl, you’ve put on weight.” Sitting at Grandmother’s knee, I told her about everything happening at the Sterling Estate. When her eyes crinkled into a smile, I finally let out a slow sigh of relief. Just as we were about to have our meal, a palace maid suddenly announced that Princess Sunny had arrived to pay her respects. I looked at Grandmother. She gently squeezed my hand, turned, and ordered, “Let the Princess in.” Princess Sunny was truly beautiful. Her fiery red cloak made her look like a radiant sun. I thought she looked a little bit like my mother. Of course, that’s assuming she wasn’t glaring at me. She curtsied to Grandmother, then stood to the side, looking at me haughtily, waiting for me to curtsy to her. But Grandmother was holding my hand. I couldn’t move an inch. So I pinched my throat and obediently called out, “Princess.” She was displeased, frowning at me. “Why doesn’t the little Duchess curtsy to me?” I let go of Grandmother’s hand, waddled my round, bundled-up body over to her, and said, “Please don’t blame me, Princess. I’m wearing too many layers. I can’t really bend my knees. I’m so sorry.” Princess Sunny froze, clearly not expecting me to say that. She immediately turned her head away, muttering “Idiot” under her breath. “Dowager Empress,” Princess Sunny stepped forward, her tone sharp and critical. “Why did you reject the posthumous title for my mother, Consort Guo?” Grandmother scoffed coldly. “Consort Guo committed suicide. How is she worthy of a posthumous title?!” “Heh.” Princess Sunny’s eyes burned fiercely, refusing to back down. “Was it suicide out of fear of punishment, or was she framed by someone else?” Grandmother’s face turned icy. “Insolence!” In the midst of this standoff, Elias arrived. After paying his respects to everyone, he waved to me. “Is Madam hungry?” I knew he was trying to break the tension, so I nodded. Grandmother’s expression softened slightly as she let the palace maids help her up. “I will dine with you two.” The moment she spoke, Princess Sunny sneered coldly from the side. “An old man and a child bride. You really have made yourselves the laughingstock of the world.” A sharp slap echoed in my ears. Princess Sunny held her cheek, staring at Grandmother in disbelief. “You dare hit me? Do you think you can control me with your dirty little secrets?” Grandmother stood tall and straight, the phoenix hairpin in her hair trembling slightly from her anger. “I am the Dowager Empress! No matter who the new Emperor is, I am the only, and the most supreme, Dowager Empress!” I had never seen Grandmother like this. In my memory, she had always been gentle and loving. In the past, when the late Emperor was alive, she was the virtuous and gracious Empress praised by all the officials. Later, when the late Emperor passed away, she remained unfazed in the face of danger. Amidst the chaos of the rebel army, she held the imperial seal and convinced everyone to support the current Emperor’s ascension. But today, even though she kept saying the word ‘supreme’, I felt that Grandmother had lost a lot of her confidence. I knew why. Everyone knew. 7 Perhaps frightened by what happened during the day, I developed a high fever as soon as we got home. Elias called for a doctor, but didn’t trust anyone else to take care of me, so he tended to my every need himself. I slept fitfully until the middle of the night. When I groggily opened my eyes, I saw a small desk set up by the bed. Under the dim lamplight, a shadowy figure sat there, the only sound the clear scratch, scratch of a brush against paper. “Big Brother.” The figure immediately stood up, bringing a cup of warm tea to my lips. “Your voice is hoarse. Drink some water to soothe it.” He then placed his hand on my forehead, repeating the action several times until he was finally relieved. “Your fever broke. You’ll be fine after another sleep, Chloe.” I grabbed his sleeve. “Big Brother, can you do me a favor?” Elias tucked the blankets around me, his tone perfectly calm. “Tell me.” “Help me protect Grandmother.” I was probably crying; my vision was blurry, but I didn’t want the tears to fall, so I bit my lip hard. “Grandmother works so hard. Please, Big Brother, protect her, okay?” Time seemed to stand still. Thunder rumbled outside the window, not too loud, not too soft, but landing perfectly in my ears. “I do not make promises lightly.” It took a long time for Elias to gently pull his sleeve from my grasp. “Chloe, you’re still young and might not understand. Some things cannot be accomplished by my power alone.” I made up my mind. I climbed out of bed, kneeling before him. “I won’t ask you to help me for nothing. I have something to trade with you, as long as you can keep Grandmother alive.” Elias looked at me, stunned. “What is it?” I lowered my voice. “The military seal…” Before I could finish, Elias immediately clamped his hand over my mouth. Being so close, I could clearly see the flash of anxiety and worry in his eyes. “That is not something a child like you should possess!” I climbed back onto the bed and opened the peace amulet. A bronze tiger lay in my warm palm. Elias was completely dumbfounded. Even though he was the Chancellor, brilliant from a young age, he probably never imagined that the tiger seal currently in the Emperor’s hands was a fake, and the real one was in mine. “My mom and dad didn’t die in battle, did they?” I spoke very calmly, as if I were telling Elias about an ordinary, everyday occurrence. “My dad was incredibly strong. At Jade Gate Pass, he fought a hundred men alone and came back without a scratch. In the Battle of Wintermoon, with so many troops, even if they lost, my dad wouldn’t have died.” I smiled, holding back the tears in my eyes. “Not to mention my mom was there. Even if he fought to the death, my dad would have absolutely protected her. “The new Emperor took the throne, feared my dad, and then plotted to murder him, right?” I voiced the suspicion that had been haunting me, my entire body trembling. Elias sighed and reached out to hug me. He placed his hand on my hair, leaving it there for a long time before finally saying, “You are only seven. Knowing too much is not a good thing.” I wrapped my arms around his neck, my voice choked with sobs. “Big Brother, please help Grandmother, okay?” Elias finally relented. He placed me back on the bed. Under the warm candlelight, the young man’s face was as beautiful as a painting. “Chloe, grow up well. Time heals all wounds. “And I will protect you well.” 8 Six years flew by. I was protected incredibly well by Elias. Grandmother once asked me what kind of feelings I had for him. I thought about it and finally remembered a very fitting phrase. “Like a father, like a brother.” I was eleven years younger than him. He treated me like his own little sister. He spoiled and doted on me, taught me how to read and write, and how to conduct myself in the world. He never once overstepped the boundaries of propriety with me. He knew the terror buried deep in my heart, and I understood his ambitions and aspirations. But deep down, I always held onto a different kind of hope. To stay together forever, growing old with him. I gently tapped the fan in my hand, suddenly feeling that this was a truly beautiful idea. But before that could happen, both he and I had a long, long road to travel. In the summer of the seventh year of the current reign, the Emperor suddenly fell gravely ill. Elias was a trusted civil official of the Emperor. Within moments of the Emperor falling ill, he was detained in the Emperor’s bedchamber by the palace eunuchs. The palace gates were shut tight, and the inside was already in complete chaos. However, that very night, during a brief moment of lucidity, the Emperor named a Crown Prince. He chose the son of Consort Li—who was actually Princess Sunny. When Elias returned to the estate and told me this, his tone was incredibly calm. “The Emperor made the wrong move.” I remained silent. Consort Li was a princess from the previous dynasty. The veteran officials who followed the current Emperor were naturally uneasy about this. But the Emperor was resolute, and no one could sway him. Not only that, the Emperor even ordered the recall of General Chen, a military commander stationed at the border. One civil, one military—he wanted Chen and Elias to jointly assist the Crown Prince. I was somewhat worried. “Big Brother,” I looked quietly at the man by the window. “General Chen and the Emperor are not of the same mind.” “I know.” Elias raised his hand and closed the window beside me. “But the Emperor trusts him implicitly. During the Battle of Wintermoon years ago, Chen gained immense favor with His Majesty.” During the Battle of Wintermoon, the Emperor might have just wanted to plot my father’s death, but he would never have used the entire empire as a bargaining chip. But why, on that day, were the city gates thrown wide open? Not only did my father perish, but the enemy troops, stationed a hundred miles away, were able to charge straight in. A battle they clearly could have won ultimately cost my father his life and the loss of over a dozen cities. Tens of thousands of soldiers died or were injured, yet General Chen, who was the deputy commander, emerged without a single scratch. He was promoted and given a title, taking over all the positions that originally belonged to my father. Chen harbored traitorous intentions. “Chloe,” the man before me tapped the table lightly. “What do you think?” I smiled. “Closing the door to beat the dog. Is Big Brother willing to be the stick Chloe uses to beat the dog?” “This plan is too dangerous, Chloe…” “Big Brother.” I was still smiling. “My parents cannot die in vain. I must avenge them myself.” “Chen and the Emperor… I won’t let either of them off.”

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