• After I Came Home

    Three years ago, the man I loved most sent me away, exiling me from the country. Three years later, I was finally allowed to return. But I no longer loved Donovan Blackwood. Still, everyone looked at me with warning in their eyes. “Aurora, are you still trying to get your claws into Donovan? Still trying to ruin things between him and Victoria?” “Three years abroad and you haven’t learned a thing. Donovan was too soft on you; he never should have let you come back.” “Exactly. A venomous creature like her belongs in a jail cell, or dead and buried overseas.” I just watched them in silence. But then… I heard a piece of news, and my world shattered. I started mumbling, over and over. “Mike.” “Have you seen my Mike?” “Please, don’t be dead.” “You promised you’d come back for me.” I was lost in a haze of madness for a long time. Finally, no one thought I was acting anymore. Donovan pushed through the crowd and held me tight. But his hands were trembling. “Aurora, what’s wrong?” “Who is Mike?” “Please, don’t scare me like this.” 1 I had been back in the country for less than an hour. My phone had already lit up with more than a dozen warning messages. “How dare you show your face here again?” “Didn’t anyone teach you a lesson over there? You’re begging for it.” “Too bad the plane didn’t explode and kill you.” … I ignored the messages. I just opened my laptop, went to my email, and quickly typed a new message. It was simple. “I made it back safely.” I hit send. The profile picture on the other end was a black void. There was never a reply. I stared blankly at the screen. Hearing footsteps, I shut the laptop. A woman with her hair in an elegant twist stood in the doorway. My mother. “Rory, why are you looking at your mother like a stranger?” I remained lost in thought for a moment longer. My mother wiped a tear from her eye and left. That night, I heard the sound of things crashing in the study. “Is she blaming us?” my father’s voice rumbled. “She’s the one who pushed Miss Prescott down the stairs. Victoria was in a coma for three months.” “Stop it,” my mother’s voice was sharp. “It’s all in the past. Donovan and Victoria are about to announce their engagement. We can’t have any trouble now, not at a time like this.” The hand holding my water glass trembled slightly. I turned and quietly slipped away. 2 The next morning. I sat hunched over my computer. Eventually, I went downstairs to get something to eat. My mother was in the living room, watching television. Suddenly, a breaking news banner flashed across the screen. #Major Announcement: Blackwood Enterprises confirms the engagement of Mr. Donovan Blackwood and Miss Victoria Prescott, with a ceremony to be held mid-next month.# I froze. An island engagement? A long-forgotten memory surfaced. I had once clung to Donovan’s arm, begging him. “An island is so romantic. When we get engaged, can we have the ceremony there? Please?” His expression was a mask of cold annoyance. “Aurora, can you stop being a child?” “I’m working.” Seeing his displeasure, I had immediately backed down, sitting obediently by his side. “Okay, okay, I’ll be quiet. You work.” The memory faded. I snapped back to the present. My mother saw me and jumped. “Rory, what are you doing downstairs?” “Are you going out? Where? I’ll come with you.” She was already signaling for a servant to get her purse, fumbling for the remote to turn off the TV. Watching her tense, frantic movements, I understood. She was terrified I would revert to my old self, clinging to Donovan like a stubborn shadow. But, Mom, I won’t. Never again. “I’m not going out. Just getting something to eat.” “What?” I had already grabbed a carton of milk and was heading back upstairs. As I reached the landing, my mother’s voice, full of surprise, called out. “Rory, you…” I took a steadying breath. “It’s okay, Mom. You can watch your show. I have work to do.” 3 After the Blackwood engagement announcement, the old stories resurfaced. The online rumors about how I had viciously pushed Victoria Prescott down a flight of stairs were everywhere. Half the internet was sending their blessings; the other half was cursing my name. “OMG, finally! They announced it! Wishing them a lifetime of happiness!” “Hehe, a match made in heaven. Can’t wait for the beautiful babies!” “They have to be happy forever!” … “And what about Aurora? Too scared to show her face? She must be dying of jealousy.” “Heard she was forcibly sent abroad.” “Such a wicked girl. Did she really think Donovan would love her if she got rid of the competition?” “All that scheming, haha, and for what? It all failed in the end. Bad people never win.” I stared at the screen, numb, then closed the browser. I never expected my father to bring Donovan home for dinner that evening. I was just coming downstairs when I saw him. I froze on the landing, my entire body going numb. Why was he here? In my family’s house? As the CEO of Blackwood Enterprises, he knew everything. He would have known the second I landed. No, that’s not right. The only reason I could come back at all was because he had given his permission. My father gestured for him to go to the study, then shot a look at my mother, silently telling her to get me out of sight before I caused a scene. I followed my mother to the living room with my head down. The study door was left ajar. If I just tilted my head, I could see his tall silhouette. A crisp black suit, sharp, stylish hair. He was always a king among men, exuding a power and charisma no one could match. I glanced over again. It seemed my father was looking for a document. Donovan didn’t even sit down. The tea on the table remained untouched. He took the file and prepared to leave. “Rory, darling, what do you think of this purse?” my mother asked, trying to distract me. I turned and looked. “It’s beautiful, Mom.” 4 Five minutes later, a pair of long legs strode out of the study. My mother stood up, politely trying to detain him. “Donovan, won’t you stay for dinner?” Of course, they both knew he would never stay. But no one in this city could afford to offend the Blackwoods. Donovan finally turned, and for the first time since he had walked in, his eyes swept over me. What kind of look was that? Cold. Indifferent. As if he were looking at a complete stranger. I sat frozen on the sofa, unmoving. The old me would have already rushed over, excitedly linking my arm with his, calling him “Donovan” in that sweet, pleading voice. But the me of today sat perfectly still, as if the man before me no longer held any importance. He gave a slight nod. “No, thank you, Mrs. Song. I have other matters to attend to.” He started to walk away, his gaze leaving me as if I were a piece of furniture. He took two steps. My fists clenched, and I spoke. “Wait.” The man who was two steps away paused. He went rigid for a second before turning back. My mother had already grabbed my arm in a panic. “Rory, what are you doing? Donovan said he’s busy.” I could feel the painful pressure of her fingers on my skin. His eyes darkened. “What is it, Miss Song?” So be it. I hadn’t called him by his first name. And he, in turn, called me “Miss Song” with chilling formality. Not “Rory,” not even my full name. I took a deep breath. “I have something for you. Just a moment.” I pulled my arm free and ran upstairs. I entered my password, opened the innermost drawer of my desk, and took out a square box. Then I ran back down. Downstairs, everyone was watching me with cold suspicion, as if I were about to perform some wicked trick. But when I held out the deep blue, velvet box, they seemed to understand. The coldness in my parents’ eyes instantly faded. “I asked your grandmother for this a long time ago. It doesn’t suit me. I’m returning it to its rightful owner.” It wasn’t what he thought it would be. He looked genuinely surprised as I held it out to him. The dark cloud on his face lifted. Inside the box was an antique jade bracelet, a Blackwood family heirloom passed down through generations. No one had ever approved of us, but his grandmother had adored me. On my twentieth birthday, she gave me this bracelet, a symbol meant for her grandson’s wife. For a time, I truly believed I would one day become Mrs. Blackwood. It was much later that I understood. Those were just fragile, unrealistic dreams. There was a long silence. Finally, he reached out and took it. Donovan left with the bracelet. My mother came over and gently patted my head. 5 A week later, I started my residency at City Central Hospital. My undergraduate degree was in medicine, and I’d spent two years at a research institute abroad. Still, my parents were worried. I knew they had people following me. I wasn’t angry. After all, Donovan and Victoria’s engagement was a delicate matter. I couldn’t be allowed to disrupt it. That would be disastrous for my family. I wanted to tell them they had nothing to worry about. The old Aurora was long dead. And the new Aurora didn’t love Donovan Blackwood. I never expected that, just a few days into my new job, Victoria Prescott would book an appointment with me. We sat across from each other, the air thick with awkwardness. She said she had a slight cough, but looking at her barely-there symptoms, I knew she wasn’t here for a diagnosis. She was here for me. I wrote her a prescription for some mild medication. She clutched the paper, not moving. She took off her sunglasses. “Aurora, you’ve lost weight.” I had no desire to reconnect with anyone from that old circle. Especially not Victoria, the woman I had once competed with for a man’s love. I had lost, spectacularly. I sidestepped her comment, my tone flat. “The pharmacy is on the first floor. I have another patient waiting.” She still didn’t leave, just stared at me. “You’ve changed completely.” “You used to be the loudest, most chaotic one among us. You were never this quiet.” A small, humorless smile touched my lips. “Miss Prescott, are you here to see a doctor, or do you have another agenda?” She fell silent. Putting her sunglasses back on, she left. But just as the door closed behind her, my eyes fell to her feet. Three years ago, she had tumbled down a flight of stairs. Her leg was severely injured, requiring multiple surgeries. She had lost a lot of blood. And I was the one who took the blame. We were the only two people on that floor at the time. I had desperately tried to explain that she fell on her own. No one believed me. Donovan had swept her into his arms, his face a mask of agony. “Donovan, I didn’t push her!” I had cried out. Before I could finish, he had kicked me, hard, in the stomach. “Get out.” It was the first time I had ever been hit. And likely the first time he had ever struck a woman. Within two days, I received a lawsuit from the Blackwood family’s lawyers. Victoria wasn’t a Blackwood, but Donovan was determined to get justice for her. I almost went to prison. I heard his grandfather pleaded on my behalf, and my sentence was commuted to exile. I subconsciously touched my stomach. He had kicked me with so much force. Even now, on rainy days, a dull ache still blooms in that exact spot. 6 The next time I saw Donovan Blackwood was at a bar. It was a departmental gathering for the hospital. Our private room was right next to theirs. One of the younger doctors, Dr. Rollins, had too much to drink and tried to get Victoria’s number as she passed in the hallway. Victoria slapped him across the face. The sound of the slap brought everyone out of both rooms. In the crowd, I immediately saw him, the man for whom a path always cleared: Donovan Blackwood. Victoria immediately threw herself into his arms. “Donovan, he harassed me!” Dr. Rollins tried to defend himself. “I just asked for your number! I didn’t even touch you, ma’am.” “And you have no right to hit me! If you don’t want to give it, just say no!” Across the hall, Donovan’s eyes turned black with rage. I clenched my fists. Our department head finally recognized him and rushed forward, grabbing Dr. Rollins. “Shut your mouth! Do you know who that is? That’s Mr. Donovan Blackwood, the CEO of Blackwood Enterprises!” “Apologize to Mrs. Blackwood-to-be, now!” The head’s reprimand seemed to sober Rollins up, but he was still too young and proud. He continued to argue his case. “Mr. Blackwood, I don’t believe an apology is necessary. I did not harm your fiancée. I swear on my life, I never laid a single finger on her. I’m telling the truth.” My nails dug into my palms. Rollins was an idiot. He didn’t realize that every word he spoke could cost him dearly. “Is that so? So you’re saying Victoria is lying?” Donovan’s eyes narrowed slightly. The sheer force of his presence was suffocating. The entire hallway went still. “Don’t just stand there, apologize!” our head hissed at Rollins, before turning to Donovan with a fawning expression. “Mr. Blackwood, he’s just a new graduate, he doesn’t know any better.” But Rollins, for some reason, stubbornly refused to apologize. “Take him to our room,” Donovan ordered one of his men with a flick of his chin. “What… what are you doing?” “Let go of me!” “This…” Not a minute after they dragged him inside, we heard the sickening thud of fists on flesh, followed by Rollins’s agonized cries. Our head was panicking, but there was nothing he could do to stop it. Everyone else just stared at the floor, too terrified to move. Who would dare to cross the most powerful man in the city? Rollins had helped me with my orientation paperwork when I started. I felt a pang of pity, but I was helpless. But then, something unexpected happened. Donovan let go of Victoria, his eyes scanned the crowd, and he strode directly toward me. He stared down at me. “Aurora. You tell me what happened.” For a second, I didn’t understand. But I believed Rollins, and I wanted to try to save him. “Mr. Blackwood, I believe Dr. Rollins. He already received a slap. Surely an apology isn’t necessary now.” As I finished speaking, a cold sweat broke out on my forehead. Then, a slow, cruel smile curved his lips. I thought, for a moment, that he believed me. But what he said next was: “Aurora, you put him up to this, didn’t you? Harassing Victoria? You’re still the same, always scheming to hurt people.” “If we hadn’t been here tonight, what would your drunken colleague have done to her? Would he have ruined her?” My mind went completely blank. Not only did he not believe me, he thought… He thought I was the mastermind. He was so close, his intimidating aura making it hard to stand. “You must be joking, Mr. Blackwood. I’m not that brave,” I managed, a bitter smile on my lips. But he wouldn’t let up. His piercing gaze made my stomach clench, a cold dread spreading through me. “Not brave? Three years ago, you were brave enough to push someone down a flight of stairs. Now you come back with this weak, fragile act. Do you really think you can fool anyone?” He slammed his hand against the wall next to my head, trapping me. I couldn’t move. My colleagues were terrified. Our head took a half-step forward, but Donovan’s sharp “Get back!” sent him scurrying. No one else dared to move. I looked at the familiar faces behind him, the same faces from three years ago. When Donovan had kicked me to the ground, they had worn the same expressions of smug satisfaction. I looked at the man in front of me, a man who looked like he wanted to kill me, who hated me to his very core. And suddenly, I felt so tired. I shrugged and smiled. And I confessed. “You’re right, Mr. Blackwood. It was me. I put him up to it. So stop hitting Dr. Rollins. Hit me instead. Let him go, and I’ll take his place. Go on, beat me to death.” My voice grew louder, more frantic. Rollins’s screams from the other room were growing more desperate. I don’t know where I found the courage. I stared him straight in the eye. “Did you hear me? I said it was me! So come at me! Use your fists on me!” I was so furious, a cornered animal, but tears were streaming down my face. My reverse psychology didn’t work. They beat Rollins until he was pulp.

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  • Meeting in the Rain

    The day Asher Ford won Best Actor, a ten-year-old video went viral. The camera footage showed a torrential downpour. He was gripping a young girl’s shoulders, his voice raw with anguish. “Iris, how can someone as cold-blooded as you even exist? Why don’t you just die?” Netizens meticulously identified the girl in the video—me. The girl who now gutted fish at the local market, working several jobs a day to pay off debts, living a life that was a complete wreck. They all laughed, saying I’d gotten what I deserved. Later, we met again on another rainy night. I had fallen, a mess on the ground, struggling to right my busted-up tricycle. Asher Ford stepped out of a Maybach, holding an umbrella over my head. Beneath its shadow, his face was a mask of indifference. “This,” he said, “is the pathetic life you’ve made for yourself without me.” 01 When that ten-year-old video started trending, I was at the market, gutting a fish. In the video, the girl’s side was to the camera. The rain had soaked her white dress, making her look fragile and thin, like a butterfly with a broken wing. After that hysterical, desperate question from the young man, she pried his fingers from her shoulders, her voice almost cruel. “Then you can just consider me dead.” The old fan at the next stall over was so loud that the sound from my phone felt distorted and distant. I handed the wrapped fish to a young customer. She glanced at me, then back at the video playing on her phone. “Do you… do you know Asher Ford?” she stammered. I lowered my eyes. “No.” A splash of grimy water, thick with the smell of fish, hit my chin. It was a smell I was long used to, but at that moment, it made my stomach churn. The customer’s eyes were filled with doubt. I managed a small smile. “An A-lister like him? How could he know someone like me?” 02 I shut down my stall in a hurry and fled back to my cramped little flat. It was the middle of the rainy season, and the roof was leaking, leaving disgusting patches of mold on the ceiling. I’d never gotten around to replacing my shattered phone screen. The signal was terrible. I had to refresh the page several times before it finally loaded. The hashtag #AsherFordsExGirlfriend was at the top of the list. Someone had already doxxed me. I clicked on the post. The photo showed me with my lips pressed into a thin line, my hands covered in the blood and gore of my work. Sweat-plastered strands of hair stuck to my face, along with a few stray fish scales. I looked haggard and utterly defeated. The top comment had tens of thousands of likes. [Damn! The doxxing speed is insane. Karma’s a bitch!] [Asher’s watch is worth 3 million, she guts a fish for 3 bucks. Instant karma, LMAO.] [My heart broke seeing our angel Asher begging her not to leave, that look of despair on his handsome face! Someone needs to go smash her pathetic little fish stall tomorrow!] The bowl of noodle soup on my table had gone cold and congealed. The greens were wilted; I hadn’t been able to sell them before closing. The sight of it made my stomach turn. Rain dripped from the ceiling, a maddening, incessant beat against my nerves. The screen went dark. I wiped my eyes roughly. The rain had been bad for business lately. If I didn’t open the stall tomorrow, where would the money come from? Suddenly, my phone rang. “Hello? Is this… Iris? The fishmonger?” The man’s voice on the other end had a strange tone. “Tomorrow night at 6, I need your most expensive fish delivered to The Crestmont. I’ll pay you a twenty-dollar delivery fee in cash. Don’t be late, you hear me?” A few of my regular customers had my number. This was a lifeline, enough to get me through tomorrow. “Okay,” I said, my voice hoarse. 03 The Crestmont was a private venue up in the hills. The rain was coming down hard, and the road was poorly lit. My wheel hit a deep pothole. I didn’t even have time to cry out as the handlebars were ripped from my grasp. The little tricycle tipped violently, throwing me to the ground. My right shoulder and hip slammed into the asphalt, a dull throb of bone that made me gasp. I reached down to check, my fingertips coming away wet. I thought it was mud. But in a flash of a distant streetlight, I saw the dark stain of blood. The unsold, rotting vegetables I hadn’t unloaded yet were scattered all over the road. I didn’t break down and cry. Instead, I limped to my feet and crouched down to clean up the mess. On the storm-lashed mountain road, a pair of bright headlights cut through the rain, getting closer. They sliced through the downpour, illuminating my miserable state for the world to see. A Maybach pulled to a smooth stop. Someone stepped out, holding a black umbrella, and walked over to me, shielding me from the rain. I looked up. And just like that, I was staring into the eyes of Asher Ford. He tilted the umbrella slightly, revealing his face. It was the same, yet not the same. His expression was blank, his thin lips parting slightly. “This is the pathetic life you’ve made for yourself without me.” An indescribable sorrow pierced my heart. My hand, gripping the tricycle’s handlebar, turned white. My nails dug deep into my palm. Yes. This was the tenth year since I had abandoned him. This was the pathetic, broken creature I had become, just struggling to survive. Raindrops slid from the edge of his tailored suit jacket. He saw the blood seeping through my pants leg. The ice in his eyes melted, replaced by something sharper, more urgent. He crouched down. The cuff of his expensive trousers dipped into the filthy puddle at his feet. Asher’s hand came to rest on my back, his thumb brushing over my sharp shoulder blade. He paused. “We’re going to the hospital.” A few scrapes. Compared to not being able to afford food after a doctor’s visit… I didn’t have a choice. I struggled, pushing him away. “I’m fine.” Asher’s outstretched hand froze in mid-air. He stared at my face, a bitter, angry smile twisting his lips. His voice was cold. “Ten years, Iris. You’re just as stubborn and ungrateful as you’ve always been.” 04 His words made the color drain from my face. Just then, a young woman got out of the Maybach. She walked straight to Asher’s side. “Asher, everyone’s waiting for us. What’s taking so long?” Her voice was soft, almost a purr. The space under the umbrella suddenly felt crowded. I took a step back. The woman’s eyes flickered over me, a look of disgust flashing across her face as if she’d seen something foul. It was gone so quickly I thought I might have imagined it. “If we don’t leave now, we’ll be late. It’s your celebration dinner tonight. People will think we’re being divas.” She linked her arm through his. Asher just stared at me, not resisting her touch. The two of them stood there together. His champagne-colored suit, her matching dress. They looked like a perfect couple. My carefully constructed walls of composure began to crumble. I looked down. “I’m sorry,” I mumbled. “I’m blocking your way.” I turned and scrambled back onto my tricycle, twisting the key. In the rearview mirror, the rain-swept world receded. It had been ten years. I thought I was over it. But in that single moment, the dull ache in my heart became a suffocating agony. I didn’t dare to stop, didn’t dare to look back. The thick fog of rain closed in, separating us completely. 05 The parking lot of The Crestmont was filled with luxury cars. I locked up my tricycle and pushed open the door to the private room. The people inside looked vaguely familiar. It took me a second to realize. They were my old high school classmates. The moment I walked in, the atmosphere froze. A dozen pairs of eyes raked over me, taking in my mud-caked rubber boots, my soaked pants, my wet hair dripping onto the floor. The face reflected in the glass was pale and makeup-free. “Iris?” The woman who had been with Asher stood up. A flash of disgust and excitement crossed her face. “So it was you back there.” Her smile widened. She turned to the others. “See? What did I tell you? Twenty bucks, and she comes running like a dog.” Her tone was light, but the words were dripping with contempt. Her face was unfamiliar, but her voice… suddenly, I knew who she was. After I broke up with Asher, I had gone through a period where anyone and everyone felt they could walk all over me. Sophia had dragged me into the school bathroom and held my head under the faucet. Her friends had pinned me down while she ground her heel into my hand. Then she’d crouched down, slapping me over and over. “You love pretending to be so pure to seduce Asher, don’t you? Go on, cry. Let’s see if he comes to save you now.” Ten years later, the memory still made my hands tremble. I fought back the wave of nausea rising in my throat. “Is there a Mr. Collins here? I have your order.” A man stood up. I recognized him. Mark Collins. He had been one of Sophia’s admirers back in the day. “Wow, Iris. Look at you. Is there even any point in living like this?” “Yeah, if I were her, I’d find a ditch to jump into. Or… I guess some things are easy to sell. Deliver a fish, and maybe something else on the side?” A wave of low, cruel laughter spread through the room. Someone whispered, “When Asher gets here and sees her looking like this, he’s going to puke.” At that, a look of pure, unadulterated pleasure crossed Sophia’s face. I had to get paid. I had to get out of there before Asher arrived. I swallowed my pride. I held out the fish. “Your order is here. Who’s paying?” Mark, trying to look like a big shot, pulled out his phone. “Fifty bucks. Keep the change.” He leered at me, his eyes roaming my body. “You’re cheap anyway.” Amidst a chorus of lewd chuckles, I pulled out my own phone, the screen a spiderweb of cracks, and opened the payment app. “This is a wild-caught yellow croaker. It’s five hundred dollars a pound.” 06 The laughter died instantly. Mark was the first to react. “What?! Five hundred a pound?!” Sophia frowned, her face a mask of disdain. “Iris, I know things are tough for you, but you can’t just scam your old classmates. It’s not like any of us have money to burn.” My patience was gone. “That’s the market price.” Mark’s face flushed with anger and embarrassment. He lunged forward and slapped my phone out of my hand. The old, fragile thing went flying. He gave me a hard shove. “You greedy bitch! Are you out of your fucking mind?!” I stumbled and fell. The black bag holding the fish hit a display shelf, sending a cascade of porcelain crashing to the floor. The expensive fish flopped wildly on the ground, its struggles spattering stinking water and slime everywhere. Sophia shrieked, staring in horror at a fish scale that had landed on her dress. “This is custom-made! Asher ordered it for me! Did you do this on purpose?” Someone threw a wad of napkins at me. “Do you have any idea how much that dress costs? You couldn’t afford it in a hundred lifetimes, you worthless trash!” Others chimed in. “People like her are just full of petty jealousy. Get on your knees and clean it up!” “She’s still the same as she was in high school. Poor, dirty, and pathetic.” The red tablecloth lay at my feet like a pool of blood. I reached for my phone, wanting to call the police. Someone playfully stuck out a foot, kicking the battered phone across the floor. The battery popped out. I scrambled to get it, but someone pinned me down. Every nerve in my body was screaming. Creeak. The door to the room opened. A tall figure was silhouetted against the light from the hallway. An expensive suit jacket framed a perfect physique. A pair of beautiful eyes found mine. There was no warmth in them. Only a cold, detached indifference. His gaze was as heavy as the storm outside, soaking the last tattered shreds of my dignity. The world went silent. I could barely breathe. “What are you all doing?” His voice was quiet, but it carried an undeniable weight. 07 I lowered my head and picked up the pieces of my phone. Asher stopped, the tip of his expensive shoe nearly touching my cheap rubber boot. Amid the stench of fish, I could smell the clean, woody scent of his cologne. His long, elegant hand opened, palm up. “Your number.” Every eye in the room snapped to us. Sophia bit her lip. “Asher, Mark was just trying to help an old classmate out, but she tried to take advantage…” Asher tapped his phone a few times. A cold, mechanical voice cut through her words. [Payment received: $3,000.] His face was unreadable. “I’m paying.” Under the weight of everyone’s stares, I avoided his eyes. “Thank you,” I whispered. My knee throbbed where I’d fallen. I staggered to my feet and turned to leave. Outside, the rain was coming down in sheets. It ran into my eyes, stinging. The cuts on my palms were starting to bleed again. At least I got paid. I let out a long, shaky breath. 08 The truth was, shortly after we broke up, my family went bankrupt. My father took his mistress and fled the country. He had already transferred all his assets. He didn’t leave a single penny for my sister and me. My sister’s health was poor, and over the years, she had only gotten sicker. I told myself that on my way to the hospital, I would buy her a pretty hair clip. The roar of an engine grew closer. That Maybach cut me off again. Asher’s face was dark. “Get in the car.” I said nothing. He frowned, letting out an impatient sigh. “Iris, do you have to be so stubborn?” People were starting to stare. He was a public figure now. A scene would be bad for him. Just as I was about to get in, my phone buzzed with a piercing ringtone. I fumbled to answer it. “Miss Miller? It’s the hospital. Your sister’s condition has taken a turn for the worse. You need to get here immediately.” A roar filled my ears. Those words shattered what little strength I had left. “What’s wrong?” Asher’s eyes flickered to my screen, and from my devastated reaction, he knew. “I’ll take you to the hospital.” I didn’t resist this time. I got in the car. In the hospital room, the nurse’s expression was full of pity. “We were able to stabilize her, but the kidney failure is progressing faster than we thought…” She paused, the unspoken words heavy in the air. “The money you paid last month just covered her basic treatment. The cost of the transplant evaluation and finding a match is… substantial. You need to start thinking about how you’re going to manage it.” I barely heard the rest. My mind was a chaotic mess. The beep of the monitor was a cold, steady rhythm. Lily lay on the bed, so small and fragile, the IV tubes like vines, tethering her to this world. So thin, so small, so young. Like a porcelain doll. I didn’t even dare to touch her hand. When I looked up, Asher was gone. I closed the door to her room and went to the stairwell. Every step felt like I was walking on cotton. I crouched in a corner, burying my face in my knees. And finally, I let myself cry in silence. For ten years, the only thing that had kept me going was my sister. But the mountain of medical bills was crushing me. What was I going to do? 09 Click. The stairwell door opened. Asher stood there. He saw my tear-streaked face and quickly looked away, shielding me from the view of the nurse behind him. He handed her something. “She’s not here. Could you please give this to her later?” He didn’t look at me again as he closed the door. I quickly wiped my eyes and went back to the room. The nurse handed me a few thin receipts. “The gentleman who was just here asked me to give you these.” She gave me a kind smile. “Also, your sister will be moved to our best private room today.” My hands trembled as I looked at the receipts. The pre-paid amount was a number that made my head spin. Ten years of bitterness. When we broke up, he had hated me. Hated me enough to wish me dead. But today, he had paid for everything without a second thought. I stumbled out of the stairwell and ran. His tall, straight back was just at the end of the hallway. “Asher!” My voice was breathless from running. The empty corridor was bathed in a sterile, white light that illuminated the detached expression on his face. “Thank you.” Meeting his deep, dark eyes, I clenched the hem of my shirt. “I’ll find a way to pay you back. I can write an IOU, with interest…” Before I could finish, he let out a short, sharp laugh. “Do you really think I care about the interest?” He took a step closer, his eyes like daggers. “Lily is like a sister to me. She used to call me her big brother. So swallow your pathetic pride. This has nothing to do with you.” I bit my lip, humiliated. Asher tossed a paper bag at me. “Antiseptic.” He turned and walked away without another word. Only then did I feel the stinging, burning pain in my leg. It was a scene that felt strangely familiar. Years ago, during gym class, I had scraped my leg and was sitting alone in the shade. A shadow fell over me. The sunlight dappled through the leaves, landing on Asher’s white shirt. He held out a paper bag. “This kind disinfects faster. It doesn’t hurt as much.” He had rolled up my pant leg and knelt at my feet, carefully cleaning the wound. His thin lips were set in a serious line, but they had a faint, reddish tint. On impulse, I had leaned in and kissed him. A light, fleeting touch. He had looked up, the tips of his ears bright red, but his gaze was steady. “That’s not how you do it,” he’d said. “Let me teach you.” But then… Everything had gone wrong.

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  • She Regretted It After I Stopped Funding Her

    I had supported Lara for seven years, and loved her for just as long. She finally agreed to be with me. But later, I discovered her heart belonged to the childhood friend she grew up with. She had always hated me, believing I used my money to humiliate and demean her. For ten years of our marriage, she remained utterly cold, eventually moving out to live with her childhood friend. I, alone in an empty house, wasted away and died of sorrow. Then, I was reborn back to the day I first decided to help her. Lara’s childhood friend stood defiantly in front of her, exclaiming to me: “Do you think being rich makes you so special? We don’t want your money!” I simply smiled. “You’re overthinking it.” “I’d rather burn this money than use it to help you.” 1 “Ian, you just flash your cash around, don’t you? You think money makes you important? Well, we don’t want it!” Luke, standing defiantly in front of Lara, brought me back to reality. My gaze met hers. Twenty-year-old Lara still had a hint of youthful innocence on her face, dressed in a faded linen dress. Yet, she was incredibly beautiful; tall and slender, with porcelain skin and eyes that shone like stars in the sky. She somehow made the humble dress look elegant. I instinctively took a step back, leaning against a nearby table to steady myself. How long had it been since I last saw Lara like this? Ten years? Or twenty? It had been too long, I couldn’t even remember. After all, that was a lifetime ago. Lara seemed surprised by my retreat. Luke continued his endless rant, but his words faded into a muffled hum. Everything unfolding before me was an exact replay of my past life. Back then, she refused my help, yet I insisted on giving it. I had liked Lara for seven years, and I knew her family was struggling. Her father was a gambling addict who’d always come home drunk after losing all their money, verbally and physically abusing her and her mother. Her mother, unable to bear the torment, eventually took her own life. Lara had spent her childhood scavenging, working odd jobs, and relying on scholarships to stay in school. From a privileged background, our paths should never have crossed. But her excellent grades earned her a scholarship to our private high school, which valued its academic reputation. Our circle at school was filled with young heirs and heiresses, rich kids who barely bothered with their studies, just drifting through each day, waiting to inherit their family businesses after getting some superficial degree overseas. Lara was different. She was focused, diligently studying in class and heading straight to work after school. Despite her poverty, she never acted ashamed, always carrying herself with an unyielding dignity. She was utterly unique. Like a beautiful, resilient wild orchid blooming in a greenhouse, standing apart from the pampered, cloying fragrances around her. That’s when I fell for her. I loved her, and I couldn’t stand to see her suffer. Back then, young and foolish, I’d often push what I thought was best onto her, with an arrogant sense of entitlement. She worked nights and couldn’t make breakfast, so I’d bring her packed lunches from home. “Lara, our chef makes the best Wagyu beef! You have to try it!” “And foie gras, my dad had it specially flown in, it’s amazing.” As an only child, I had always lived a life of ease, waited on hand and foot. Everyone around me spoiled me rotten, leaving my mind empty of real understanding. All I wanted was to give her the best. I completely overlooked whether she actually wanted any of it. Other students would jeer, “Ian, what does she know about foie gras, ha-ha-ha! She probably can’t even afford chicken liver!” I’d snap back, “What the hell is it to you all?!” I didn’t see Lara’s fingers clench tightly around the lunchbox, her knuckles white. After a pause, she handed the box back to me, her voice flat. “Thanks for the thought, but no thanks.” “Oh, don’t be like that, Lara,” a girl nudged her, winking. “If you get together with Ian, you’ll never have to work again. Go on, snag him!” “Yeah, then your dad can gamble as much as he wants, and won’t be after your tuition money anymore, ha-ha-ha.” Everyone burst into laughter. I slammed my hand on the table and shot to my feet. “Everyone, shut up!” The laughter died down. But Lara suddenly stood up and walked out. I chased after her, trying to shove the lunchbox back into her hands. “Lara, don’t listen to their crap. Eat your food, or you won’t have the energy to work tonight.” She stopped, turning sharply. I froze. Her eyes were filled with unadulterated hatred and disgust. 2 Memories fade quickly for teenagers. I soon forgot that incident and continued to pursue Lara. For her, I even started studying hard, getting into the same university as her. My father was ecstatic, doubling my allowance. At university, Lara became even busier. Her scholarship application fell through, and the poverty aid slot was snatched by a classmate with connections. At her worst, she could only afford a single bun from the cafeteria each day, filling up on free soup. I couldn’t bear it, so I offered to help her financially, but she refused. She worked three jobs a day, eventually collapsing from exhaustion on the street. That’s when I lost my patience, dragging her and insisting she take the money. “Lara, why won’t you take my money? What are you trying to achieve by working yourself to death?!” I went to her dean and forcibly paid her tuition. By then, I had matured a little, understanding the need to respect her pride. So, I’d always pull her to eat with me, claiming I couldn’t finish my food and asking her to share. When we went out, I’d pretend to have scored free tickets, bringing her along. Slowly, my relationship with Lara seemed to grow closer. I continued to support her until she graduated, and to make her happy, I even helped her childhood friend, Luke. After graduation, Lara started her own business. Her academic record was stellar; she and a friend had developed a stock-trading software model while in college, but they hit dead ends everywhere, unable to secure any investment. Seeing her so down, I simply asked my father to invest in her. I remember Lara was very quiet that night. As I held her, almost drifting off to sleep, she suddenly spoke. “Ian, why are you doing this?” At the time, I thought she was going to say, why are you being so good to me, so I complacently replied: “Because I love you.” “Lara, do you love me?” I held her hand. “I’ve been so good to you, if you still don’t want to be with me, you’re completely heartless!” Back then, I was only joking. But Lara didn’t say anything, and I assumed she was agreeing. That’s how we got together. Two years later, Lara and I got married. The wedding was a quick affair. Lara said she didn’t like too many people, so we only invited a few close relatives and friends. All of them were mine. From her side, there was only her. After the wedding, Lara remained distant. I was so incredibly foolish then; I thought it was just her nature. I’d pursued her for so many years, surely if I kept being good to her, even a heart of stone would eventually warm. But I never imagined her heart was truly unyielding. Because her heart, from beginning to end, belonged to someone else. In the third year of our marriage, our conflicts became irreconcilable. I couldn’t tolerate her day-in, day-out coldness anymore. I accused her of being in love with her childhood friend. She just looked at me with cold eyes, saying nothing. When I pushed her too far, she would simply storm out. Her silent treatment drove me to become increasingly obsessive and frantic. When she returned, I’d interrogate her, curse at her. During our most intense arguments, I’d blurt out hurtful things: “I wish I’d known you were such an ungrateful wretch! I might as well have adopted a dog; at least it would wag its tail at me!” For a fleeting moment, anger flashed across her face, then she quickly regained her composure. After that day, she stopped coming home altogether. Later, I discovered she had already been with her childhood friend. They had built a new life together outside our home, and even… She was pregnant with his child. All those years, she lived a complete and happy life with him. While I guarded an empty house alone, my heart full of love curdling into a poisonous, hateful brew. Lara’s business flourished, and she became wealthier than my own father. There was nothing I could use to get back at her. The only thing I had left was our marriage. I gambled my own life to spite her. I refused to divorce her, no matter how much money she offered. She had ruined me, and I wouldn’t let her off easy. The man she loved would forever be a clandestine affair. Her child with him would always be a bastard, born in the shadows. Lara didn’t dare sue me for divorce. She feared that a public marital dispute would impact her company’s stock value, and her board of directors would never allow it. And so, she and I dragged out this charade for ten years. For ten years, no matter how hysterical, how frantic I became, eventually even resorting to pleading… she never softened. She never once came back to see me. In this daily despair, I grew thinner and thinner, falling gravely ill. Finally, I withered away. 3 “Ian?” I snapped back to reality, looking at Lara beside me. A profound hatred surged through every fiber of my being. My heart felt as if it would burst, and for a moment, I almost couldn’t stand. After I died, she finally got what she wanted, didn’t she? Perhaps, the way she treated me was always meant to torment me to death faster. I remembered my medication being suddenly swapped before I died. When I asked the butler, he merely said it was a milder kind. I didn’t suspect a thing. Yet, shortly after taking this new medicine, my health rapidly deteriorated until I couldn’t even sit up. Not long after, I died. It was her, wasn’t it? Who else could it be? Hating me so much, wanting me dead so quickly. She wanted to marry Luke. How utterly venomous. I looked at Lara, forcefully suppressing the urge to rush forward and kill her. I hated her so much! I believed that aside from being a naive idiot when I was younger and not sensitive enough to her pride, I had done nothing to wrong Lara. I hadn’t even forced her into marriage. I’d even asked if she was willing, and if not, I could wait. Yet, she hated me so profoundly. Luke, just like in the past, was yelling at me, “Ian, do you think money makes you important? How dare you insult people like this!” “Take your filthy money and get lost!” I looked at him. Luke was actually quite handsome, though his worn-out tracksuit made him look a bit shabby. He was staring at me, his expression agitated. This was the man Lara loved, the one she would kill for. It was the same in my past life. Lara and I were talking calmly; I was telling her that if she felt uncomfortable, she could pay me back for her tuition later, treating it as a loan. But then Luke suddenly accused me of throwing money around, saying I was insulting Lara. It was only through later arguments with Lara that I slowly understood. She had always felt I was using money to demean and humiliate her. Suddenly, I found it all so laughable. Seeing Luke’s protective stance, I curled my lips into a smile. “You’re overthinking it.” “I’d rather burn this money than use it to help you.” Lara’s face blanched. 4 Luke’s expression went blank for a moment. “…What did you say?” I smiled. “Don’t you think me helping you is insulting? As classmates, how could I insult you like that? In that case, forget it. You two can just keep working odd jobs.” Luke’s family situation was similar to Lara’s; his father owed debts and ran off with money, and his mother worked herself sick to put him through school, now confined to bed. Perhaps because of their similar circumstances, he and Lara had always been close, always hovering around her. He always liked to tag along whenever Lara and I went out. Sometimes I’d object, and he’d question me in front of Lara. “Ian, are you looking down on me because I’m poor? Don’t you want to be friends with me?” Before I could reply, Lara would link her arm through his and say in a flat voice, “If you think we’re not good enough, then don’t go.” I’d have no choice but to bring him along. At dinner, he’d stare at the lobster on the plate and say, “Do you eat such fancy food every day?” “We really aren’t from the same world.” There were several times when Lara and I were having a good conversation, and he’d suddenly interject with a remark like that. Lara’s smile would vanish, and she’d stop talking to me. At first, I thought he was just thoughtless. It wasn’t until one time when Lara and I were walking together, and I turned around to say something to him, that I caught his gaze. Luke’s face was expressionless, his eyes filled with a murky malevolence and resentment. When he saw me turn, he was startled, quickly forcing a smile. But all I felt was a chill down my spine. That’s when it dawned on me. He hated me. Or rather, he resented me. Actually, when Lara and I first got married, there was a brief period of harmony. Her company was on track then, having secured its first big contract. After the celebration dinner, she drunkenly hugged me, laughing and saying, “Honey, what do you like? Your wife will buy it for you.” I felt for her, knowing how hard she worked for her money, and held her, utterly content. “No need, your company is just starting, it’s where the money should go. Your thoughtfulness is enough for me.” But she wouldn’t let go, clinging to my neck, whining playfully, “A wife’s money is for her husband! I’ll buy you a car, what kind do you want?!” Even as she fell asleep, she was still mumbling. “Ian, I have money now.” “You don’t have to compromise for me or suffer with me anymore.” Sure enough, the next day she bought me a car. But before I could even say anything, Luke showed up. He looked at the car keys in my hand, and his expression suddenly turned odd. Then, he snatched the keys from me, smiling at Lara. “Oh, I remember Ian already had this car when he was in college. One of his friends gave it to him, right?” “He even complained it was too cheap to drive.” Honestly, I’d long forgotten if that was true. But Lara’s expression immediately soured. Then she took the car keys and left, her face unreadable. After that, she grew cold towards me again. And the next time I saw that car, Luke was driving it. He curved his lips into a smile, feigning indifference. “Ian, Lara gave me this car. You’re not angry, are you?” Of course, I refused, demanding he give the car back to me. A flicker of resentment crossed his face, and he loudly asked, “You have so many cars already, why do you have to fight me for this one?!” “You have so many, and I only have this one!” Lara, her face dark, pulled me away. “Let go! If you don’t care about it, why fight him for it? Or is it that you just like to fight for things?!” I was young and proud back then, and I couldn’t stand that kind of humiliation. We had a huge fight and parted ways angrily. Only later did I understand. Luke wasn’t talking about the car at all. He was clearly talking about Lara. He felt I had stolen her, which was why he hated me so much. 5 “Ian,” Lara, regaining her composure, frantically grabbed my arm. “Wait!” I turned back, but seeing her expression, I froze for a moment. Her eyes were a swirling vortex of emotions, as if something was about to break free and erupt! Even her voice trembled slightly. “No, this isn’t right!” “Ian, why aren’t you helping me anymore? Don’t you like me very much?!” Her frantic outburst startled me. What was wrong with Lara? Had she gone crazy? Or was she upset about my tone with Luke? But in my past life, at this point, I hadn’t even won her over yet, and she was always utterly cold and unsmiling towards me. Was she having some kind of episode? I tried to shake her off. “Let go!” She clung on even tighter, her eyes starting to redden. “Ian, don’t you like me anymore?” “Don’t you want me anymore?!” Now I was truly unnerved. When had Lara ever said something like that to me? I stared, wide-eyed. “Lara, what the hell is wrong with you? Did you take the wrong meds or are you possessed?!” But she said nothing, just stared at me unblinkingly, her expression fanatically obsessive. My temper flared. How dare she stare at me like that after everything she did to me in my past life?! “Didn’t you think me helping you was humiliating? Lara, or are you just shamelessly waiting for me to beg you, taking advantage of my kindness?!” Luke’s mouth hung open, as if he hadn’t expected me to speak to Lara like that. Indeed, in my past life, at this very moment, I was at my most infatuated with her. Every word I spoke was carefully chosen, fearing I might wound her pride. But now, I didn’t care anymore! “Lara, what kind of person are you?!” I sneered. Heartless, ungrateful. I truly wondered how I could have fallen for someone like that. Lara, however, wasn’t angry. The color simply drained from her face, leaving it pale. I roughly pushed her hand away and walked off without looking back.

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  • The War of Luck

    I found a homeless man, spent all my savings to heal him and helped him start a business. A year later, he became the city’s newest billionaire. Everyone envied my keen eye, eagerly awaiting my grand entry into high society. Yet, he knelt before my sister, claiming he had mistakenly loved another, only to find his true love was her. I didn’t cry, didn’t cause a scene, just smiled and nodded. My family thought I had accepted my fate. But no one knew I was born with a gift for the mystic arts, and I had long seen that Finn carried the aura of a top-tier Lucky Charm. A year of meticulous planning, all to seize his fortune. Marrying into wealth? No, I would become the wealth myself! 1 From the moment I was born, I could see everyone’s aura. Ordinary people had a faint white glow around them. Celebrities on TV shone with a dazzling red. Those cursed with bad luck, prone to bankruptcy or violent deaths, were shrouded in an impenetrable black. Only I, looking in a mirror, saw my own aura as a void, completely transparent. Because of this, since childhood, I’d devoured every book on metaphysics, sought out every reclusive master. Finally, a blind sage told me: I had a rare “Empty Fate,” a short and shallow life, with only one solution: draw upon others’ luck for my own. But I searched for many years, never encountering an aura that truly captivated me. Until one day, in a forgotten alley in the old quarter, I saw a burst of golden light so brilliant it made one squint. As I drew closer, I realized the light emanated from a filthy homeless man, emaciated beyond recognition, his wounds festering with pus and insects. Yet, that golden aura was solid, palpable, swirling around him like a mythical carp. It was the “Nine Transformations of the Lucky Carp,” a rare fortune seen only once in a century! This aura promised immense wealth, the power to defy fate, and to turn disaster into fortune. I heard my heart pound, as if I had met true love. I extended a trembling hand towards him: “Come with me.” The moment we arrived home, my sister Rose’s shriek shattered the silence: “Alicia brought back a smelly beggar!” Mom rushed from the kitchen, pinching her nose and scolding me: “Where did you pick up this vagrant? He reeks and he’s half-dead. Get him out of here!” Dad sat on the sofa, his face ashen: “What on earth are you doing? Do you want all the neighbors to laugh at us?” But I paid them no mind. I was born with shallow familial bonds. I was born at 4:44 AM, my cries as faint as a kitten’s mew. The nurse handed me to Mom, but she recoiled in disgust. Dad stood by, uttering only one sentence: “This child is bad luck.” Later, Rose was born, a rosy-cheeked, adorable baby who loved to cuddle, fulfilling all their expectations. From then on, all the warmth and attention in the household fell upon her. I became a ghost in my own home. When I was little, I once fainted with a fever, and they told the neighbors I was just “sleeping in.” When asked about my favorite food, they’d say “leftovers.” Even though I was older than Rose, I had to wear her hand-me-downs… Their favoritism brought me no sorrow, no expectation, only indifference. I didn’t care if they loved me or not; my heart was never truly here. This “Nine Transformations of the Lucky Carp” aura, that was what I truly desired. It wasn’t ordinary good fortune, but a celestial aura capable of rewriting destiny and wielding ultimate creation. Held in my grasp, it offered the absolute power to control my own life. To soar ninety thousand miles high, with the sky as my limit, unshackled. With it, everything I desired would be within reach. So I said, word by word: “I want him.” Everyone thought I was mad. I brought a beggar home, not only spending a fortune on a private doctor and imported antibiotics for him, but also paying high prices to enroll him in the most elite financial trading courses. When Rose saw the man, bandaged from head to toe, seriously studying “Security Analysis” in the room, she burst out laughing: “Sister, are you completely infatuated with a beggar? Does he even know how to spell ‘finance’?” Mom followed suit, glaring at me and lamenting with disappointment: “What’s so good about this beggar? This is just throwing money down the drain!” I didn’t even look up, replying calmly: “It’s my money; I’ll throw it however I like.” Indeed, the money I had saved over the years by performing feng shui readings and fortune-telling was now being poured into him like water. I even spent a small fortune on a tourmaline ring, which I gave to him. Everyone thought I was crazy for a man, completely infatuated with a beggar. Only I knew that once he passed this final hurdle, Finn would rise. And I would use his aura to defy fate, to reshape my destiny. Finn, resilient as a pine, sustaining fortune. “Finn, don’t disappoint me.” He certainly didn’t disappoint me. In three months, Finn completed all his financial courses. I gave him seed money to register Aura Capital. In the fifth month, he targeted the stock market, precisely shorting overhyped green energy stocks, profiting two hundred million in a week, making a name for himself overnight. In the seventh month, he transitioned to the commodity futures market. I helped him anticipate policy shifts, earning another eight hundred million. In just one year, Aura Capital grew from a small startup to a giant in the financial world. Finn, too, topped financial headlines, becoming the city’s most sought-after new billionaire, mysterious and low-key. As CEO, I remained steadily by his side. That day came quickly. Finn’s injuries were fully healed, and the bandages were removed from his face. When he was invited to the annual Outstanding Entrepreneur Awards, the entire financial world buzzed with excitement. Major media outlets converged, sensing a story: “One Year to City’s Top Billionaire! Mysterious Newcomer Finn Makes First Public Appearance!” Amidst widespread anticipation, Finn made his entrance. He stood against the light, his eyes like bright stars, tall and slender. In that moment, the entire venue fell silent. A moment later, thunderous applause erupted. Finn’s acceptance speech mentioned only one name: Alicia Stone. The tourmaline ring on his left ring finger shimmered under the spotlights. Now, he had commissioned a matching one for me, personally placing it on my ring finger. He also announced our wedding date: one month later. The media instantly exploded, camera flashes popping everywhere. “Breaking news! The new billionaire, who rose to the top in just one year, makes his first public appearance to propose!” “Oh my god, such a handsome and devoted billionaire, he’s like a perfect character from a novel!” “What more could one wish for after marrying him?!” And I, up close, observed Finn’s strong nose and his lightly pressed lips. The fortune-transferring formation would be fully complete in less than a month. Once I obtained the top-tier Lucky Charm aura, I would soar. By then, Finn would be marrying into wealth. Keeping him wouldn’t be out of the question. However, no one noticed that Rose, working as an intern reporter that day, was also present. She stared blankly at the man on stage, her lips slightly parted, her hands tightly clasped over her chest, as if the surrounding commotion held no meaning for her. Only the frantic thumping of her own heart remained. She murmured dreamily: “My… Prince Charming has truly appeared…” That evening, I returned home after signing contracts at the office. My room door was ajar. Peeking in, I saw Finn sitting at my desk, and Rose was inexplicably wearing my pajamas. The next second, Rose suddenly hugged Finn from behind. Her face was flushed, her eyes fluttering like a startled deer. Finn turned around, realizing it wasn’t me, and yet he didn’t immediately push Rose away. As the two exchanged gazes, sparks flying, I kicked the door open. Rose, like a frightened deer, pulled back her hands and clasped them over her chest. “Sister, you scared me! Why are you always so rough?” I retorted, exasperated: “Why are you in my room wearing my pajamas?” She lowered her head shyly, twisting the hem of the pajamas, and said: “My pajamas are all in the wash, and Mom said I could wear your clothes. You don’t mind, do you, Sister?” “Actually, these pajamas are a bit small on you, Sister. They fit me perfectly.” “And I think I look better in your pajamas.” Shameless, I scoffed: “Get out.” Rose’s eyes instantly welled up. She bit her lower lip. “Sister, why are you so mean to me? We’re sisters, can’t I come into your room? Do you dislike me so much that you always target me?” With that, she looked on the verge of tears, casting a pleading glance at Finn. I also looked at Finn. He frowned, pondered for a moment, then said: “Rose is innocent and kind-hearted; she means no harm.” “And you’re Rose’s older sister, you shouldn’t be so harsh with her.” Rose quickly covered Finn’s mouth with her small hand: “Don’t talk about Sister like that for my sake. I don’t want you two to argue because of me. You two should always be happy together.” After speaking, she wiped her tears with her small hand and ran out, head bowed. I heard her soft sobs in the living room. “I never imagined… my ideal Prince Charming… would be right here in our home. Isn’t this a heaven-sent destiny… but he’s Sister’s…” And Mom and Dad’s comforting voices. “He’s not married, she’s not married… how is he your sister’s then?” “A girl should be brave… pursue true love.” Looking at Finn’s slightly dazed eyes. I knew he was beginning to change. A few days later, as soon as I arrived at the office in the morning, HR handed me a new hire form. Rose Stone. Her position was Chairman’s Special Assistant. I, the CEO, knew nothing about it. As I walked towards Finn’s office, I heard Rose’s sweet voice from inside. “Finn, you’re so good to me, giving me such a high salary. Sister won’t be angry, will she?” Through the crack in the door, I saw Rose leaning across the desk, straightening Finn’s tie. Finn looked down slightly, his gaze at her holding a hint of indulgence.

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  • Three Generations

    Ten years after my death, I was reborn as Daisy, my own pampered granddaughter, who always clung to me. In my last life, I started from a street stall, clawed my way to a publicly traded corporation, and hadn’t slept a single good night in sixty years. This time, I could finally be a third-generation heiress, living a life of leisure. But no sooner had I woken up than I saw a notification on my phone. My adopted son, Leo Maxwell, was poised to dismantle the business empire I had painstakingly built. All the Lees, my relatives, stormed into the CEO’s office, pointing fingers at him, yelling, “What right do you, an outsider, have to dispose of the Lee family’s assets!” Leo merely lifted his gaze, and the entire room fell silent, like chickens gone mute. In the end, every single Lee was thrown out of the building, becoming the laughingstock of the city. Only I was left behind with Leo. I felt a pang of guilt, half-expecting him to recognize me, his old matriarch. Instead, he tossed a stack of business management quizzes at me, his face cold. “Grandma doted on you most of all in her life, but your brain is less than a thousandth of hers.” “These tests, you must score above 90% on every single one.” He leaned in, his voice tight with suppressed emotion. “Fail to do so, and don’t even think about visiting her grave.” “I’ll tell everyone—you’re not worthy of being her granddaughter.” 1 The moment consciousness flooded back, a searing headache made me groan. Ten years of murky, post-mortem memories receded like a tide, replaced by those of another girl. Daisy Lee. My little granddaughter. The one who, at three years old, would cling to me, begging me to read to her. The one my son and daughter-in-law spoiled rotten, so delicate that a mere touch would make her cry. I shot upright and rushed to the bathroom. The mirror reflected a youthful face, wide, sparkling eyes, skin like porcelain, and softly curled hair—the epitome of a spoiled little princess. Looking at this face, untouched by the storms of life, my emotions were a complicated mess. In my last life, I built an empire from scratch, from a humble street cart to a listed corporation, working myself into ill health by sixty, with wrinkles that even the most expensive skincare couldn’t erase. Now, I’d been given a second chance, only to become my own granddaughter? Well, it’s not so bad. After a lifetime of toil, this time I’d be a third-generation heiress. I’d finally enjoy a life of… “Buzz—buzz—” My phone on the vanity vibrated wildly, the screen lighting up with urgent news alerts. [Lee Group Stock Plummets! Billions Lost in a Single Day!] [Leo Maxwell’s Leadership Fails? Lee Business Empire on the Brink!] [Industry Analysts: Lee Group CEO Leo Maxwell’s Recent Decisions Questioned, Suspected of Deliberate Self-Sabotage?] Leo Maxwell. My adopted son. When I found him, he was twelve, as thin as a bean sprout, but his eyes held the fierce glint of a wolf cub. Most of the Lee descendants were soft-natured; I was worried about finding an heir, so I adopted him. I spent ten years smoothing his rough edges, teaching him the ways of business, and on my deathbed, against all opposition, I entrusted the company to him. I thought he’d understand my efforts. I thought he’d protect my legacy. And this is how he repays me? A surge of righteous fury shot to my head. I threw the phone down, grabbed a coat, and stormed out. This life, though housed in a pampered body, still held the spirit of old Mrs. Lee. I needed to get some answers. What exactly was Leo Maxwell trying to do? Did he think that just because I was gone, no one could control him anymore? I rushed downstairs, before I could even call a driver, an urgent news flash suddenly appeared on the hundred-inch TV screen in the living room. [Breaking! Lee Group CEO Leo Maxwell Announces Donation of All Personal Assets and Remaining Group Liquid Funds, Plus Select Real Estate, Totaling Approximately Ten Billion Dollars, to Sunstone Charity Home!] On the screen, Leo Maxwell, impeccably dressed in a suit, stood beside the donation agreement, his face calm and unreadable. Below him, flashbulbs exploded. My steps faltered. I stared at the scrolling news headline, rooted to the spot. He donated everything? And to Sunstone Charity Home, of all places? While I was still reeling, my father, uncles, and aunts in this life had already erupted. “He’s lost his mind! He’s absolutely lost it!” My father, Robert Lee, slammed his teacup, his face ashen. “That’s Lee family money! What right does he have to donate it?!” “I told you this stray wouldn’t be tamed! Mom shouldn’t have been so soft-hearted and picked him up!” Uncle George stomped his foot, cursing. “Call the police! We must call the police! This is embezzlement! This is theft!” The group clawed at each other like hyenas whose food had been snatched, red-eyed, howling, completely devoid of dignity. I watched them coldly. These people, my children in my past life. Not much talent, but when it came to fighting over inheritance and being a hindrance, they were second to none. If I hadn’t kept them in check, the company would have been bled dry long ago. Now, seeing the money gone, they were more frantic than anyone. The whole group stormed out, clearly going to confront Leo. I slowly followed. My emotions were complicated. This move by Leo, it was too radical, and too unexpected. Sunstone Charity Home, that was where I met him. And it was also where I first started, where I got my first investment. The old director there was a truly good person. I had sworn then that if I succeeded, I would repay that place a hundred, a thousand times over. I had only mentioned this to young Leo once. He… remembered? 2 The top floor of Lee Group headquarters, outside the CEO’s office, was a chaotic mess, like a fish market. My children and grandchildren from this life were all blocked by bodyguards. Unable to get in, they cursed outside, their words viciously offensive. “Leo Maxwell! You ungrateful bastard! Get out here!” “That’s my mother’s company! What right do you have to donate it?! What kind of trash are you?!” “Bastard! Scum! They should have let you starve and freeze to death back then!” The security guards formed a human wall, their faces impassive, clearly well-trained. The secretary on the side was sweating profusely, trying to say something, but her voice was completely drowned out by the shouting. I watched this group argue like common street vendors, my brow furrowing deeper. Such uncouth behavior! Did decades of upbringing amount to nothing? “Everyone, shut up!” I snapped, the unconscious authority of old Mrs. Lee emerging. “What kind of scene is this?! Can’t you talk…” “Daisy, shut your mouth!” My father in this life, Robert Lee, abruptly cut me off, his face full of irritation. “What do kids know?! Go stand aside!” Uncle George shot me a harsh glare. “Adults are talking, it’s not your place to interrupt! If you keep yelling, I’ll send you home!” I instantly choked, the rest of my words caught in my throat. Looking at their agitated, distorted faces, I suddenly realized. Right now, I was Daisy Lee, the least influential granddaughter in the family. A wave of powerlessness washed over me. I pressed my lips together, silently retreating to the back of the crowd, observing the farce coldly. I didn’t expect that short moment to be perfectly captured by a pair of deep eyes peeking from behind the office door. The office door suddenly opened. Leo Maxwell stepped out. He must be thirty-five this year. Time hadn’t etched many lines on his face; instead, it had refined him, giving him a stern, imposing aura. His suit was sharp, his posture upright, and his gaze, when it swept over them, felt like shards of ice. The previously noisy crowd instantly quieted by half. My father, stiff-necked, still wanted to say something, but a glance from Leo instantly deflated his bluster. “What’s all this noise about?” Leo’s voice wasn’t loud, but it clearly cut through all other sounds. “Do I need to report company decisions to you?” “That’s the Lee family’s company!” Uncle George shrieked. “The Lee family?” Leo gave a faint, cold smirk, as if he’d heard a joke. “When Grandma was alive, which of you ever earned a dime for Lee Group? The losses you incurred, however, were countless. And now you show up claiming it’s the Lee family’s?” His gaze swept over the faces, some angry, some guilty. “When the group’s capital chain broke, and stock prices plummeted, where were you?” “When banks called in debts, and partners canceled contracts, where were you then?” “Aside from selling off Grandma’s antiques and properties to cover your messes, what else can you do?” A torrent of questions left the group speechless, their faces alternating between green and white. “As for the donation,” Leo’s tone grew colder. “I used my personal funds and disposed of the group’s remaining assets to overcome the crisis, all legally and compliantly. Who are you to dictate what I do?” “Bullshit!” My father finally found his voice, his eyes red. “You’re just seeking revenge! Revenge on the Lee family! Revenge on Mom for keeping you in line! You’re just an ungrateful wretch we raised!” Leo’s expression instantly darkened. The air around them seemed to drop several degrees. “Robert Lee,” Leo didn’t even call him by his usual title, just his name. “Watch your words. If not for Grandma’s sake, you wouldn’t even have the right to stand here and speak to me.” He raised a hand. Security personnel immediately stepped forward, forcefully “escorting” people out. “Get out! All of you, get out!” “Leo Maxwell! How dare you!” “We’ll sue you! You just wait!” Cries, curses, and threats filled the air, but my children and grandchildren were unceremoniously cleared out. The farce ended. I stood in the corner, watching these useless descendants being removed, feeling a surge of annoyance. Leo’s gaze swept past the crowd, landing precisely on me. “You,” he pointed at me, his eyes deep and unreadable, “come in.” My heart tightened. Bearing the resentful stares of the others, I bit the bullet and followed him into the office. The door closed behind us, shutting out all the noise. 3 The office was quiet. Leo walked behind his desk, turned, and fixed his piercing gaze on me. He said nothing, just watched me, as if trying to see straight through me. Under his intense scrutiny, my scalp tingled, and I tried my best to maintain Daisy’s usual timid demeanor. After a long moment, he finally spoke, his voice even. “That was quite a display of authority just now.” My heart skipped a beat. Leo was a smart kid, even as a child. Could he have… “But it was a little foolish,” his tone turned colder. “Unable to grasp the situation, trying to smash an egg against a rock.” I lowered my head, not daring to speak. He suddenly picked up a stack of test papers from a nearby table and tossed them onto the desk in front of me. Corporate Strategic Management, Advanced Financial Analysis, Market Game Theory… All business management courses, and not easy ones. I immediately recognized that some of the trap questions and assessment approaches were very similar to the tricky ones I used to devise to challenge him. “Your father says you want to intern at the company?” Leo leaned back in his chair, his tone unreadable, but his finger tapped lightly on the Market Game Theory paper, his gaze like a hawk, watching my initial reaction as I picked up the tests. I: “…” No, I don’t. Looking at these papers, I sighed inwardly. Perhaps I pushed too hard in my previous life; old Mrs. Lee, this time, just wanted to enjoy the life of a rich heiress. Otherwise, how could I justify a lifetime of hard work? But I could only nod. “…Mmm.” At the same time, my fingers subconsciously flipped through the top paper, my gaze quickly scanning several key questions. My brow furrowed almost imperceptibly, then quickly relaxed. The way these questions are designed, still the same old tricks, focusing on human weaknesses and loopholes in regulations. Seriously, no progress at all. “With your grades, failing every subject, what could you possibly do in the company? Even fetching tea and water, you’d be too stupid.” His words were blunt, but his gaze was fixed on my brow, where it had just furrowed and relaxed, and on the focused intensity in my eyes as I quickly scanned the papers—an intensity that no slacker would possess. My mouth twitched uncontrollably. That brat, still so sharp-tongued! I fought the urge to blurt out, “Your old lady used these exact tricks to test you back then, and you almost cried!” Instead, I took a small breath, suppressing the flicker of disrespect and a strange sense of familiarity. Head bowed, focused only on maintaining my disguise, I didn’t notice the increasing depth in Leo’s gaze. “Grandma always said you looked like her when she was young,” he paused, his gaze again sweeping over my face, this time with a more intense scrutiny and an almost perplexed inquiry. He even unconsciously tapped his fingertips on the desk. This was his habitual movement when deep in thought. “But seeing your pig-headed brain, you’re not even a thousandth of her.” I: “!!!” Is that how you talk about your own mother?! I almost couldn’t stop myself from slapping the desk and jumping up, the anger that flared in my eyes and the authoritative air of old Mrs. Lee, though fleeting, made Leo’s tapping fingers suddenly stop. The inquiry in his eyes instantly sharpened, and he even leaned forward slightly, almost imperceptibly, as if to see more clearly. But his next sentence rooted me to the spot, temporarily interrupting his dangerous scrutiny. “Grandma valued two things above all else in her life: the Lee family’s reputation, and the competence of its descendants.” “Before she passed, she repeatedly instructed me never to allow anyone in the Lee family to become a wasteful spendthrift who knew nothing about business.” His gaze swept over me, cold and stern, his tone growing harsher. “You failed four subjects last semester, you don’t even understand basic business principles, and all you do all day is eat, drink, shop, and party.” “With your meager abilities, do you deserve the Lee name? Do you deserve to be Grandma’s granddaughter?” He picked up the top paper, a financial report analysis covered in red crosses, and slammed it down in front of me. “Grandma doted on you most of all in her life, always saying you looked just like her when she was young.” “But seeing your pig-headed brain, you’re not even a thousandth of her!” “Redo all these tests. Every subject must score above 90%.” He leaned in, his voice carrying an undeniable threat. “If you fail to do so…” “Don’t expect to attend Grandma’s gravesite visit.” “I’ll tell everyone that Daisy Lee has no right to stand before Grandma’s tomb—because you’re not worthy of being her granddaughter.”

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  • The Villainess Sisters

    1 My best friend, Scarlett, and I had somehow transmigrated into the bodies of the villainous sisters. She was a glamorous It-Girl, the darling of the entertainment industry, backed by the scion of the city’s elite, Lord Preston. I was the stunning A-list actress, infamous for my extravagant spending, the prized possession of the new money magnate, CEO Beckett. We bickered and squabbled, yet together, we crushed every wannabe starlet and social climber under our heels. That was until the innocent ‘pure white flower’ appeared. For her, Lord Preston, a.k.a. Preston Hayes, halted Scarlett’s projects. For her, CEO Beckett, a.k.a. Ethan Beckett, hadn’t touched me in days. Ah, the protagonist has arrived. … The Gold Star Awards ceremony was ablaze with flashbulbs. Scarlett and I, a freshly crowned Best Actress and a top-tier It-Girl, sat front and center in the first row, our designer gowns flowing together, an undeniable spectacle. Scarlett, her nails tipped with brilliant red polish, nudged me. “See that? Fifth row, dressed like she just rolled out of a thrift store. That’s Lily Evans.” She whispered, her voice barely audible over the hum of the crowd. I followed her gaze. A girl in faded jeans and a worn-out T-shirt stood out like a sore thumb among the sea of haute couture. “Is this chick clueless or is it some kind of performance art? Ugh, quite the statement,” I commented, a smirk playing on my lips. Scarlett snorted. “She’s going for the ‘pure, resilient little daisy’ vibe. Don’t get it? Soon enough, she’ll be ‘accidentally’ bumping into a powerful CEO. The main plot is definitely kicking off.” During the intermission, as the elegantly dressed crowd began to mingle, Lily, clutching a glass of red wine, took an “unfortunate” stumble. The entire contents of her glass, without fail, splashed all over a man. His pristine white custom-tailored suit instantly bloomed with large, crimson stains. Lily’s face blanched, her eyes welling with tears. “Oh, m-my apologies! Mr. Hayes, I truly didn’t mean to! I’ll replace it for you…” She trailed off, biting her lip, a picture of tearful, humble despair – how could a poor person like me ever afford to replace such a thing? Preston’s assistant was about to unleash a tirade, but Preston himself simply raised a hand. Far from angry, he offered Lily a handkerchief. “It’s fine. Wipe up, don’t be startled.” Watching the scene unfold from a distance, I playfully teased, “Looks like your sugar daddy’s getting hit on, Scarlett.” Scarlett’s smile stiffened for a second, then she forced a casual shrug. “Don’t worry, your big shot CEO won’t last three seconds either. This is where we start our villainess antics.” Preston had Lily sit beside him, effectively taking Scarlett’s usual spot. And my own CEO boyfriend, Ethan Beckett, Preston’s closest friend, was watching the whole thing with a curious smirk. Scarlett immediately slid into character, sashaying over, glass in hand, a captivating smile gracing her lips. “Preston, aren’t you going to introduce us? Who’s this young lady?” Lily, startled, shrank back behind Preston. “Miss Scarlett, please don’t misunderstand, Mr. Hayes asked me to sit here.” “I told her to sit here,” Preston cut in, his gaze sweeping over Scarlett. “Got a problem with that?” Scarlett’s smile vanished, her expression turning icy. She pressed on, unrelenting. Bravo, sis! You’re a quick study. Scarlett then swung her glass of red wine, aiming to drench Lily, but Preston swiftly raised a hand and slapped her across the face. He then loudly chastised Scarlett, mindlessly defending his new favorite. I walked over to Ethan, tugging at his sleeve. “That’s enough, give your friend some space. No need to make his girlfriend’s life a living hell.” Ethan, however, grabbed my wrist, his grip alarmingly strong. “Stella, since when did you become so busybody?” He flung my hand away and strode directly to Lily, taking off his own suit jacket and draping it over her shoulders with an air of possessive authority. “Miss Evans, please don’t mind them. They’ve been spoiled by us and don’t know any better. I apologize on their behalf.” Every eye in the banquet hall was fixed on us. Humiliation. Raw, public humiliation. Lily timidly looked up. “Mr. Beckett, please don’t be like this, it’s not your fault. It’s my fault, I shouldn’t be here.” She then started to cry. Ethan, his face full of concern, turned to me, his gaze freezing over. “Stella, come here.” He commanded. “Apologize to her.” I stood my ground, unmoving. I rolled my eyes at the overly dramatic Lily. Apologize to her? An A-list actress like me? She wouldn’t even be fit to carry my shoes on set, a ladder-climber who got ahead by buttering up directors. What a joke. Ethan’s patience snapped. He strode over to me, grabbing my arm. “Stella, don’t forget who you are. You’re nothing but a toy I bought and paraded around. If you don’t want me to cut off your resources, you’ll apologize to Miss Evans right now.” “Or,” he leaned closer, his voice a low growl meant only for my ears, “do you want me to teach you, in front of everyone, how to be a good little dog?” I felt a rush of blood to my head, followed by an instant chill. I looked at him, a sudden, almost serene smile gracing my lips, and slowly raised my hand, my gaze falling on the eight-figure Patek Philippe Sky Moon Tourbillon on my wrist. With a crisp click, I unfastened the clasp. Ethan’s face instantly darkened. “Stella, what are you doing?” I placed the cold, heavy wristwatch into his palm. The chill of the metal made him flinch instinctively. “Mr. Beckett, the five-year lease is up,” my voice was terrifyingly calm. “This watch, returned to its rightful owner.” With that, I turned and walked away, not sparing him another glance. Scarlett was quick on the uptake, her ten-centimeter heels clicking as she caught up to me, linking her arm through mine. “Men over 25 are practically sixty. Do these hundred-and-twenty-year-old geezers really think we’re desperate? Stella, let’s go have some real fun.” Under the gaze of hundreds, we walked out of the Gold Star Awards banquet, heads held high. Once outside, the evening breeze hit me, and I realized my back was drenched in cold sweat. Scarlett and I, two women in couture gowns and sparkling jewelry, stood arm in arm on a deserted street in the early hours of the morning, waiting for a ride-share. “I got a text,” I said, shaking my phone. The screen showed a bank notification – account frozen. “Ethan moves fast. All my cards are stopped.” “Tricky old man,” Scarlett rolled her eyes. “Mine too.” It had started to drizzle, tiny needles of cold rain pricking our exposed shoulders. We stumbled along, supporting each other, towards a nearby bus shelter to escape the rain. Sitting on the cold metal bench, raindrops dripped from our hair, our expensive gowns plastered damply to our skin. My mind was a chaotic mess, dominated by Ethan’s words: “good little dog.” Five years ago, when I first transmigrated, I was a struggling actress, a mere extra on set. I’d refused a director’s inappropriate advances, been slapped, and was curled in a corner, crying. That’s when Ethan appeared, like a god descending. He kicked the director away, then charmingly removed his suit jacket and draped it over me, covering my torn costume. His hand gently touched my swollen cheek, his voice deep and powerful. “Does it hurt?” I nodded, tears still flowing. He pulled me into a protective embrace. “From today on, no one dares to lay a hand on you but me. Stella, you won’t have to answer to anyone else. You only need to look at me.” Back then, I thought he was my savior. The rain intensified, and I began to shiver with cold. Scarlett took off her warm little shawl and wrapped it around me. “What are you thinking about?” “I’m wondering if I made a mistake from the very beginning.” “What good is thinking about that now?” Scarlett said. “Let’s figure out what we do next. All our resources are going to Lily.” Just then, my phone screen lit up. A text from an unknown number. “Saw you at the awards. Are you okay? Your old friend, Shane Yu.” Shane Yu. The name made me pause. He was a friend from my real life, before I transmigrated. We had anticipated this day, secretly saving up and buying a small apartment together. Back in our apartment, after shedding our soaked gowns and taking a long, hot shower, we curled up on the sofa, each with a mug of hot cocoa. I opened my phone to check social media. Eight out of the top ten trending topics were about us. #StellaBeckettSplit #ScarlettFallsFromGrace #LilyNewPrincessOfPrestonDynasty #BeckettHayesBrotherhood The comments section was even more… colorful. “LOL, I always hated Stella, a gold digger who actually thought she was the main squeeze.” “Scarlett too, always scowling. Preston must have been sick of her!” “Am I the only one who thinks Lily is so brave and pitiful? She’s like a pure white lotus blooming in the mud!” “^Above, I just got inside info: Stella’s S-tier blockbuster, Phoenix’s Cry, the lead role has been given to Lily!” “Figures,” Scarlett scoffed. “Killing two birds with one stone. One gets resources, the other gets to invest. Her plans are so obvious, you can hear them from a mile away.” Just as she finished speaking, Scarlett’s phone rang. She answered it with a questioning look, putting it on speaker. “Hello?” A soft, tearful female voice came from the other end. “Is… is this Miss Scarlett?” “I am truly sorry,” she choked out. “I didn’t know things would turn out this way. Mr. Hayes just took pity on me, that’s why he helped me. Your and Miss Stella’s projects being canceled, it’s all my fault.” Scarlett scoffed. “Get to the point.” “I heard Mr. Beckett say that Miss Stella must be going through a lot right now. Mr. Beckett actually cares about her very much, he’s just mad she’s so proud, unlike me, who understands how to be considerate.” “And?” “So if you two need money, I can go beg Mr. Beckett and Mr. Hayes, they both have very kind hearts.” “Lily Evans!” Scarlett cut her off. “Are you seriously thick, or just pretending? Do I need to translate ‘get lost’ for you?” With that, Scarlett hung up. “Damn it,” she threw her phone aside. “Top-tier green tea, confirmed. She’s trying to provoke us.” I nodded, about to speak when my former agent, Ms. Jenkins, called, sobbing hysterically. “Stella, my dear girl! My precious daughter! Mr. Beckett pulled funding from Phoenix’s Cry! He said he won’t invest a dime unless you’re replaced! The production team has officially announced Lily as the new lead!” I comforted Ms. Jenkins for a few moments, then hung up, my heart cold. Ethan was clearly trying to cut off all my paths. Scarlett’s phone rang again. The name ‘Preston Hayes’ flashed on the screen. Scarlett stared at the name for a few seconds, then swiped to answer. From the other end, Preston’s voice was chillingly devoid of emotion, cutting straight to the chase. “Lily is allergic to cat fur.” Scarlett said nothing. “Get rid of that cat you keep in the hillside villa.” That ragdoll cat was a gift from Preston last year, flown in from overseas at a six-figure cost for Scarlett’s birthday. He’d even personally said, “It’s called ‘Unique,’ because you are my only one.” Scarlett gripped her phone, her knuckles white from the pressure. Preston, on the other end, grew impatient. “Did you hear me? Immediately. Now.”

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  • Delivering My Husband’s Mistress’s Baby

    It was New Year’s Eve, the day Noah and I were finally ending our seven-year long-distance relationship and announcing our engagement. But an emergency miscarriage case pulled me into the OR. The patient, Sarah, was hemorrhaging heavily, and tests showed she had Stage Three Syphilis and severe HIV. The medical team looked grim. On the table, Sarah begged, “Please save my baby.” I shook my head. “You should know how your health affects your child.” She avoided my gaze. “But my husband wants a child. He’s the CEO of Sterling Holdings—we’ll pay anything.” My mind went blank. Sterling Holdings’ only CEO was Noah Sterling. I frowned. “Are you sure? Reports say he has a fiancée from a prominent family.” She stuck out her tongue playfully. “My husband did mention a fiancée around your age. But he said she’s boring, wouldn’t let him touch her before marriage—nothing like me, cute and flirty.” “He heard about my accident and is already on his private jet here.” Seeing her messenger photo—one I knew too well—I froze. The next second, Noah texted me: “Darling, year-end work is too busy. I won’t make the family gathering. I’ll make it up to you next time.” 1 After the surgery, the anesthetic hadn’t fully worn off, but Sarah was already urgently asking the nurse for her phone. “Baby, I hurt so much having the baby. Why aren’t you here with me yet?” “I know you look down on me because I’m just a mistress. Maybe I should just die with the baby then, so I don’t dirty your eyes.” As she spoke, she tried to prop herself up from the bed and head towards the third-floor window. On the phone, Noah’s urgent voice could be heard: “My sweet, I know you’re exhausted from labor. This is when you need me most. I’ve called the private jet and I’m rushing over now.” “I’ve already bought you that Hermes bag you said you liked last time. I’ll pick you and the baby up soon and take you to the best postnatal care center.” Hearing that all-too-familiar voice, my thoughts were pulled back to six years ago. At that time, Noah had just taken over Sterling Holdings. To prove his capabilities, he aggressively expanded the business, gaining both wealth and reputation, which earned him the resentment of many rival companies. On our one-year anniversary, a group of men rushed out of a parking garage and surrounded us. To protect Noah, a dagger was plunged into my abdomen, and the garage quickly became a pool of blood… That day, Noah frantically carried me into the hospital, kneeling and begging the doctors to save me, promising to do anything if they could just make me well. I woke up later, but due to the severe abdominal injuries, I had lost the ability to bear children. At that time, Noah, his eyes red and tearing up, held me. “River, I’m sorry… it’s all my fault. I will protect you for the rest of my life, never letting you suffer another injury.” Seeing the vasectomy consent form he handed me, in that moment, I knew he was the one for me, forever. Now, it all seemed so ridiculous. On the hospital bed, Sarah had already ended the video call, her eyes filled with the satisfaction of a goal achieved. I gave a self-deprecating laugh and asked, “Your child is infected with so many diseases. Will your husband even acknowledge this child?” Sarah’s face flushed slightly. She pulled out her phone, scrolling through her and Noah’s sickening chat history, finally stopping at an image of a will. “My husband already noted in his will that fifty percent of his assets will go to my son. He’s already prepared a multi-million dollar mansion for our son before he’s even born.” “Besides, that old hen at home lost her ability to lay eggs long ago. My husband is practically desperate to get rid of her, so how could he not acknowledge his own biological son?” I clenched my fists, struggling to control my emotions. Sarah, however, mistakenly thought I was jealous of her. She chuckled, leaning closer to my face. “Sister, don’t be jealous of me. I can tell you have good bone structure. It’s okay if you’re a bit older; with some makeup, you could also snag a rich man.” “You should find a man like my husband, utterly devoted to me, making sure everything is taken care of even before the child is born, ensuring our mother and child live without worries for the rest of our lives.” “Since you saved me and the baby, I’ll teach you some tips on how to handle men.” 2 I instinctively recoiled a step, my face unable to hide my disgust. “A man who has a fiancée but still flirts around, that kind of man just sickens me.” Sarah, however, didn’t care, shrugging indifferently. “Men are visual creatures; they have no resistance to young, pretty women, especially when the old woman at home can’t satisfy them. I just crook a finger, and he’s hooked.” “I used to think he had a deep connection with his fiancée, too, until one night his fiancée was in critical condition with a high fever and fainted. The hospital called him, but I just pouted a little, and he stayed with me to play crane games…” “You tell me, how could I easily let go of a man who values me so much?” My hands, clutching the hem of my clothes, trembled. That time I had a high fever and fainted, I almost didn’t make it. He told me he was on a business trip and couldn’t come back, then sent me a designer bag to placate me. Turns out he was with another woman. As she spoke, Sarah’s eyes scrutinized me up and down. “Sister, you look like you haven’t been intimate with a man… Is your relationship with your husband not good?” “Or has your husband also been satisfied by all the pretty women outside and lost interest in you?” “Do you want me to give you some advice?” Looking at Sarah, my breath caught. More than anger, I felt sheer dread. Sarah had been diagnosed with Stage Three Syphilis and severe HIV, so Noah would naturally not be immune. Noah and I had been together for seven years, and every time he brought up intimacy, I had refused, wanting to save the best for our wedding day. Unexpectedly, that decision had saved me. Looking at Sarah’s condition again, the disease had caused skin lesions all over her body, even spreading to her neck. I couldn’t help but frown. “Does your husband know about your medical conditions? You’re both being very irresponsible towards your child.” As a woman, these diseases were Sarah’s most unspeakable, most hidden past, yet I had just blurted them out. Sarah’s eyes instantly widened in fury. “Of course my husband knows! Not only does he know, he doesn’t care about my past. He’s spoiled me rotten all these years and wanted me to have his child!” I didn’t believe a word Sarah said. I knew Noah well; power came first, feelings second. If he had known about Sarah’s condition beforehand, he would never have risked himself by being with a woman riddled with disease. Sarah saw the doubt in my eyes, and she rolled her eyes in displeasure. To prove she was telling the truth, Sarah pulled out her phone and played a recording of her and Noah in a passionate moment. In the recording, their intimate sounds mingled. Sarah pressed against Noah’s chest, her voice tearful. “Noah, darling, if one day you find out I’ve been hurt by someone, and have an illness I shouldn’t have… would you still love me?” “Of course I would, my sweet. You’re always so careful, you couldn’t possibly get sick. Even if by some chance you did, I’d love you no matter what you became. Come quickly… give it to me.” Sarah then lowered her voice, sounding wronged. “But Noah, darling, you have a fiancée. Even if you don’t mind me… surely your fiancée wouldn’t mind? I’m so afraid one day you’ll leave me because of that woman.” Sarah’s crying made Noah heartbroken; he quickly pulled her into his arms. Noah’s dislike for me intensified, his tone abruptly changing, his voice growing cold. “She’s the one who should be sick. Seven years of dating, and she never let me touch her. Maybe she’s the one with an illness she’s afraid for me to discover.” “Let her live her whole life guarding her purity then.” “My sweet, in bed, let’s not talk about that unlucky woman. Come on, let me see if my sweet has gained weight recently…” Sarah held up her phone. What followed were alternating moans and gasps from two people, and a triumphant smile spread across her face. “Sister, if you were Noah’s fiancée, what would you do? You’d probably hang yourself with a rope by now.” “To be such a failure as a woman, it’s only her.” “Slap!” I walked over and slapped Sarah across the face. “You and Noah don’t deserve to be human, and you certainly don’t deserve to be parents!” 3 “Are you crazy?!” “How dare you insult me and Noah?!” Sarah was furious. “As a doctor, you hit a patient without explanation. Is this your medical ethics? I’m going to make everyone judge this!” With that, Sarah pressed the call button for the nurse, loudly shouting to summon all the medical staff. She completely ignored the baby, startled and crying from the commotion, and clutched her own cheek, complaining, “Your doctor here assaulted a new mother! Are there no rules or regulations anymore? I’m calling the police to have her arrested!” I glanced at her disdainfully. “The police will be here, and you’re the one they’ll be arresting!” “Knowing you have syphilis and HIV, you deliberately infected someone else. I merely reminded you of your responsibilities, and you accuse me of lacking medical ethics. Go ahead and call the police. Let’s see who they take away.” As I spoke, I pulled out my phone, pretending to dial the emergency number for her. The nurses around us whispered amongst themselves. Everyone was discreetly aware that Sarah had been admitted as a special patient. They were clearly shocked she was so shameless as to flaunt it. Seeing no one speaking up for her, Sarah grew even more incensed, weeping and complaining, “You’re lying! I didn’t infect anyone… that’s my husband! He knows about this, and he was the one who got sick first!” Sarah pointed her finger at me again. “No matter what, as a doctor, you assaulted a patient. You have no professional ethics! I’m calling the director to complain about you!” The head nurse quickly stepped forward to calm Sarah. “Miss Sarah, Dr. Evans is the top surgeon at our city’s premier hospital. We specifically called Dr. Evans to operate because of your unique condition.” “Dr. Evans is usually very gentle and has won numerous awards in her years of practice, never having any disputes with patients. There might be some misunderstanding. Please have some water and rest, and we’ll mediate.” Sarah eyed me, full of disdain. “A top city doctor, yet so tactless. I wonder what kind of means she used to get where she is. She probably isn’t so clean herself.” The next second, Sarah’s phone rang. From the other end, Noah’s concerned voice could be heard: “My sweet, I’m at the hospital entrance. I’ll be right there.” Sarah instantly dropped her feisty demeanor, crying out plaintively, “Noah, darling, what took you so long? I’ve been bullied!” The head nurse, sensing something amiss, pulled my hand and whispered, “Dr. Evans, thank you for your hard work on this surgery. I see the patient is stable now. We can handle the rest. It’s New Year’s Eve, and I heard your husband is coming back to be with you. You should go home early and spend time together.” Sarah heard the head nurse trying to send me away and immediately complained to Noah on the phone: “Noah, darling, this doctor not only hit me, but she also said our son is sick and won’t live long! Now the head nurse is trying to quietly send her away!” “Noah, darling, I’m so scared alone… Please come quickly and stand up for me and our baby!” Noah couldn’t bear to see his darling suffer. He immediately ordered his security to seal off all hospital exits, disregarding hospital order, prohibiting any medical staff from entering or leaving. “This kind of morally corrupt doctor, I’ll have her blacklisted in the entire city. No hospital will be allowed to hire such a disgraced doctor.” “My sweet, wait for me. I’ll see which doctor is so bold as to touch my Noah Sterling’s woman and child!” Sarah wore a triumphant expression, clearly intending to make me suffer. Everyone in the hospital room was anxious. On one side was the cooperating city hospital, on the other was Noah Sterling of Sterling Holdings. Neither was someone they could afford to offend. I, in contrast, was calmer than anyone present. Sarah hung up the phone and walked over, hooking a finger under my chin, provocatively. “You can still apologize now, it’s not too late. Kneel down and clean my shoes with your tongue, and I might let this go.” The head nurse forced a smile. “Miss Sarah, Dr. Evans did help you and your baby. Maybe we can just let this matter drop?” “She slapped me, and she expects me to just let it go?” Sarah adopted an arrogant pose. “I’m giving her two choices: either she kneels and apologizes to me, or she waits to be blacklisted from all hospitals in Havenwood!” The head nurse looked at me, her expression hesitant and worried. Everyone knew how difficult it was to get into a top city hospital; countless people fought tooth and nail just to get close. For a woman like me to become a leading doctor in such a hospital, the effort involved was unimaginable. If my career was to be destroyed by a single word from Noah, it would be unacceptable for anyone. “What, scared now? It’s not too late to kneel and apologize.” I scoffed, my head held high. “Upholding justice and punishing evil, I did nothing wrong. I will not apologize.” Seeing no sign of me backing down, Sarah’s resentment festered. She glared at me, warning, “You just wait!” With that, Sarah turned and snapped at the head nurse, “I was assaulted in your hospital. You must give me an explanation. Noah can blacklist one person from all hospitals, and he won’t mind adding a few more!” The head nurse, not wanting to make things difficult for me, tugged at my sleeve, about to step forward and apologize, but I pulled her back first. “Smack!” Another slap landed on Sarah’s face, sending her stumbling back several steps. “You actually dared to hit me again!” “I hit you, you arrogant opportunist!” I wanted to step forward and teach her another lesson, but the head nurse and several other medical staff held me back. Sarah dared not cause any more trouble. She clutched her face and rushed out, opening the door and practically throwing herself into a man’s arms. Tears welled in her eyes, and the red imprint of my hand was clearly visible on her cheek. “Noah, darling, you’re finally here! That woman hit me again. Please, you must get justice for me.” “I’ve never been so humiliated in my life, all because you came too late. The baby and I almost didn’t get to see you.” Noah held Sarah, his heart aching. “How incredibly brazen! I’ll see who’s audacious enough to lay a hand on my woman and child!” Sarah wept dramatically in Noah’s arms, a sight that would make even other women feel pity. What man could resist such a woman? “Don’t cry, sweetie. I’ll stand by you.” With that, Sarah led the man into the hospital room. The moment the door opened, Noah and I locked eyes. Noah froze. Sarah, still confused, pointed at me, seething, “Noah, darling, she hit me! You must uphold justice for me!” I looked at Noah impassively. “Mr. Sterling, shouldn’t you be working overtime at the company?”

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  • The True Heiress’s Paranoia

    1 Ever since I was in my mother’s womb, I’d been fed a steady diet of tragic romance novels, which, predictably, left me with a severe case of paranoia at birth. While other girls gushed about pretty dresses, I’d be crawling in the shadows with my action camera and voice recorder, convinced someone was trying to photograph up my skirt. When others flirted with their crushes, I’d be signing up for every debate club imaginable, fearing I wouldn’t be sharp enough to win an argument. My tongue, they said, could strip paint. Yet, by the time I turned sixteen, the villainess destined to wrong me remained elusive. My parents, kind and gentle; my classmates, endearingly foolish; my teachers, caring and dedicated. I was starting to think I was just plain crazy. Then, they arrived. My biological parents, pulling up in a luxurious car. A beautiful socialite, my birth mother, wept dramatically as she claced me to her chest, but not without protectively clutching the arm of the girl beside her—the imposter daughter. “Darling, from now on, Serena will be your sister. You two must get along beautifully.” Serena, the imposter, offered a sweet smile and agreed. But on her very first day back at the mansion, she slyly slipped a necklace into my pocket, then accused me of being a thief. Her tears flowed like a summer rain, her cries utterly heartbreaking. As everyone’s eyes narrowed in disgust and their voices sharpened with accusations, I, brimming with a strange excitement, calmly pulled out my three action cameras. “Alright, everyone! Let’s review this frame by frame!” … The entire Blackwell family stood dumbfounded. Serena, the imposter daughter, gripped her hands tightly, her eyes wide with disbelief as she stared at my three action cameras. “Th-this, what is this…?” “Oh, just all the footage I’ve recorded since stepping foot into the Blackwell estate,” I chirped, a triumphant glint in my eye. I eagerly grabbed one of the cameras, scrolling through the recordings of my time alone with Serena. “Don’t worry, I’ve got multiple angles. Every detail is captured.” Serena’s face drained of color. Before I could even fast-forward to the relevant timestamp, my cheapskate older brother, Mark Blackwell, scowled. “That’s enough!” he snapped. “Lynn, if you stole it, you stole it. Are you trying to imply Serena framed you? I watched Serena grow up; I know her character better than anyone!” A classic line. I spared him a quick, appreciative glance, then swiftly dragged the video timeline to the exact moment Serena slipped the necklace into my pocket. In the video, Serena held her head high, her face a mask of disdain. “Lynn, don’t think just because you’re a Blackwell by blood that you’re special. Mom, Dad, and Mark—they’ll always prefer me!” “I have a million ways to get rid of you from this family…” “Right here!” I exclaimed, pausing the video. On screen, Serena’s hand hovered by my pocket, a dazzling ruby peeking from between her fingers. I zoomed in, thrusting the magnified image before each Blackwell family member. “See, everyone! Is this enough to prove my innocence?” My birth parents, Mr. and Mrs. Blackwell, were speechless, their gazes flitting between me and the screen with a complex mix of emotions. Mark stared at Serena, utterly bewildered. Seeing the silence, I quickly broke it. “What’s with the quiet? Just tell me, does this video prove I didn’t steal anything?” I turned to Serena. “Serena, since they’re not talking, why don’t you share a few words? Perhaps enlighten us on your thought process for framing me?” Serena’s face was ashen, tears streaming down her cheeks. “I, I didn’t…” Before I could hear anything more, she swayed weakly, then gracefully fainted. My parents and brother, who moments ago were frozen in place, rushed to catch her. “Serena! Serena!” “Quick! Get the car to the hospital!” I, too, hurried over, poking her. “Hey, don’t pass out yet! You haven’t given your confession speech! Finish that, then you can faint.” Mark glared at me, his eyes blazing with fury. “Lynn, are you only satisfied when you’ve turned this family upside down? Serena has fainted, and you’re still tormenting her! Do you have any humanity at all?” I rolled my eyes. “Finding that video was hard work, you know. You haven’t even apologized. Do you have any humanity?” But his ears seemed deaf. He scooped up Serena and rushed out without a backward glance. Whatever. I stretched contentedly, packing away my action cameras. First battle at the Blackwells’—victory! 2 Serena spent three days convalescing ‘weakly’ in the hospital. Mom, Dad, and Mark were all by her side, while I, the newly discovered biological daughter, couldn’t even get a glimpse of them. But I didn’t care one bit. I directed the butler to install cameras in every corner of the mansion, especially in high-risk areas like the staircases. The butler looked utterly bewildered. “Miss Lynn, is Blackwell Manor a particularly dangerous place?” I simply smiled, saying nothing, just insisting on more cameras. On the third day after the camera installation, Serena finally returned from the hospital, looking delicately frail. She leaned into Mom’s embrace, a smug satisfaction twinkling in her eyes. As Mom went to fetch her some water, Serena lifted her chin, ready to unleash a barrage of passive-aggressive remarks. But then, I casually pointed to the ten cameras surrounding us, and she instantly fell silent. Thanks to the watchful eyes of the cameras, I enjoyed a remarkably peaceful afternoon. At dinner, my parents, Mark, and Serena—all of whom I hadn’t seen in ages—gathered together. My parents dished out a spoonful of food for Serena, then for me. “Lynn, darling, Serena is actually a very pure and kind child. It’s just that your sudden return made her feel insecure, which led her to do such things. Your father and I have already spoken to her, and Serena has promised it won’t happen again.” “Can you forgive her?” I was too busy shoveling food into my mouth to answer. They exchanged hesitant glances, then looked around at the cameras peppered across the dining room. “These… are they really necessary?” I quickly swallowed my mouthful and spoke. “Why wouldn’t they be necessary? Do Mom and Dad have something to hide?” Faced with my innocent query, they stammered and hesitated. Seeing this, Mark slammed his bowl onto the table. “Lynn, what is the meaning of this? Is this how your family taught you? No manners at all!” I looked at him, genuinely puzzled. “Does that mean you have something to hide?” Mark spluttered. “What are you talking about? I just can’t stand you targeting Serena.” I feigned understanding. “Oh, so it’s she who has something to hide.” Serena began to weep dramatically, while Mark cursed under his breath. Seeing that they had no further objections, I calmly lowered my head and resumed eating. As I was finishing up, my parents called out to me again. “Lynn, we’ve transferred you to Kingston Academy. Serena is also at that school. Tomorrow, she can introduce you to her friends.” Ah, here it comes! The crucial plot point every imposter daughter must experience! I suppressed the surge of excitement, nodding calmly. The next day, as soon as I opened the car door, Serena shot me a furious glare, her voice low and menacing. “Lynn, Kingston Academy is my territory. If I let you off easy, I’m not a Blackwell.” Seeing my look of utter surprise, she puffed out her chest, triumphant. “Scared, aren’t you? If you’re scared, then get out of the Blackwell house!” “But you’re not a Blackwell by blood, anyway.” Serena’s face twisted in rage. She snarled, “You’ll regret this!” before storming out of the car. I followed her, stepping out and gazing at the grand, imposing academy before me. A thrill of excitement pulsed through me. All these years! I’d painstakingly researched ways for victims of melodrama to fight back. But my kind teachers and foolishly sweet classmates made me feel like a lunatic. Now, finally, I had found my calling! Indeed, heaven-sent talents must have their purpose—and there were always schemers trying to get me! With genuine exhilaration, I adjusted my backpack straps and strode confidently through the main gate! 3 My parents had already arranged everything; Serena and I weren’t in the same class. Yet, as I expected, a subtle hostility lurked in my new classmates’ eyes. So, while the homeroom teacher introduced me, I unzipped my backpack, revealing hundreds of copies of paternity test results I’d printed yesterday. Three sets. One confirming Serena’s biological ties to her birth father. One confirming my biological ties to my birth father, and another with my birth mother. Driven by a scientific, rigorous, and utterly bulletproof approach, I enthusiastically handed them out to every student. “Hello, everyone! My name is Lynn Blackwell. I’m the real daughter of the Blackwell family, recently found after being swapped at birth. I’m not a love child, nor a poor relative from the countryside. I’m the biological daughter who was switched by Serena’s birth mother and then abandoned in a trash can during a snowstorm, in case anyone was wondering.” “I hold a black belt in Taekwondo and am fairly proficient in hand-to-hand combat. However, I am inherently gentle and kind by nature, and I hope we can all get along well.” Amidst the kaleidoscope of expressions on my classmates’ faces, I calmly took my assigned seat. “Oh, and by the way, if anyone is curious or wants to share the DNA test results with a friend, feel free to grab a copy from me anytime!” After the first class, whispers about me filled the room. I ignored them, my head down, focused on my work. After the second class, delicate Serena finally arrived with her two lackeys. She stood by my desk, her voice steeped in theatrical sorrow, loud enough for everyone to hear. “Sister, Mom and Dad asked me to look after you. Are you getting used to things here, coming from your country school?” “I won’t dwell on you putting me in the hospital a few days ago. Can we please stop targeting each other from now on?” She finished with a perfectly pitiful expression. Her two sidekicks, indignantly, chimed in. “Serena, you’re just too kind! How can a poor relative staying in your house bully you? And even try to steal your things!” “What ‘poor relative’? For all we know, she could be a love child!” “Serena, let us teach her a lesson for you!” They angrily moved to confront me, then suddenly noticed the eerie silence in the classroom. This group of students, usually at the peak of their gossiping and righteousness, offered no support. Everyone stared at the three of them with a look of utter bewilderment, as if watching clowns perform. Serena, sensing something was off, said, “Lynn, Mom said you picked up many bad habits in the countryside. Could it be you lied to everyone on your first day? Everyone, I apologize on behalf of my sister if she said anything strange.” Her lackeys were fuming. “Why apologize for her, Serena? How can you be so kind?” “Hey, peasant, get up and apologize to our Miss Serena, or else!” In the suffocating silence, my desk-mate finally couldn’t take it anymore. She picked up one of the paternity reports I’d handed out. “Um… maybe you guys should read this before continuing your performance?” The three paternity reports utterly shattered the facade of righteousness on the lackeys’ faces. “So you’re not the real Blackwell daughter! You’re a liar!” Serena burst into tears and ran off, leaving a classroom full of intrigued students. That evening, Serena was still crying. She’d stormed out of school right after classes, leaving the driver to wait for me, and driven herself home. I, without hesitation, called Mr. and Mrs. Blackwell, their secretary, and their driver—every contact I had. I told them Serena had abandoned me at the school gates, that I couldn’t find my way home. I warned that if a Blackwell car didn’t appear in ten minutes, I’d hang myself from the school gate and shout for all the world to hear that the Blackwells were so broke they couldn’t even afford transport for their child, shaming them all. Within ten minutes, Mr. Blackwell’s driver sped over to pick me up. Mom was hugging the weeping Serena, her face etched with heartache, while a furious Mark charged at me, ready to demand an explanation. “Lynn, didn’t I warn you not to bully Serena? Why did you tell everyone Serena isn’t a Blackwell by blood?” I looked at him, genuinely puzzled. “But… is she a Blackwell by blood?” “It was her mother’s doing! She’s innocent!” “But… is she a Blackwell by blood?” Mark, cornered, pointed a trembling finger at me. “So what? Our bond isn’t something blood can replace! The only sister I acknowledge is Serena!” I stared at him and Serena for a long moment, then my face broke into an expression of dawning realization. Seeing that look, Mark’s face twisted in alarm. “What… what do you mean by that?” “I’ve always wondered why you didn’t care about your real sister, who was swapped at birth and nearly froze to death in a snowstorm. Instead, you constantly defended a girl who’d enjoyed my life for over a decade. I used to think you were just crazy, but now, hearing you say ‘our bond isn’t something blood can replace,’ I finally understand.” Mark’s face registered a flicker of panic. He lunged to cover my mouth, but I was faster. “It’s love, isn’t it?!” 4 Mark’s face flushed a deep crimson, like a bruised plum. “What are you talking about?” “What else could it be? It’s not like you’re actually heartbroken for a girl who stole sixteen years of my privileged life, just to ensure she continues enjoying it, while simultaneously hating me, your real sister, right?” “Anyway, since you two aren’t related by blood, go ahead and fall in love! I totally support it!” On the sofa, Mom, who moments ago had been clinging to Serena, looked as though my words had jolted her. Her trembling hands slowly released Serena. She cast a suspicious glance between Mark and Serena. Mark recoiled, wanting to put eight hundred feet between himself and Serena. “I’m not! I didn’t! I really didn’t!” I leisurely took a sip of tea, pressing my advantage. “If you didn’t, you wouldn’t be questioning your real sister over your imposter sister.” Mark fell silent, his anger extinguished. He mumbled something unintelligible and fled. The next few days were peaceful. Perhaps due to my outburst, the Blackwell parents looked at Serena with a newfound scrutiny. Mark, meanwhile, actively avoided her. My classmates at school were also surprisingly well-behaved. Just as I was starting to fret over the dullness of life, Serena and my birthdays arrived. Mom and Dad announced they would host a joint birthday and official recognition party, formally announcing my identity as the Blackwell family’s second daughter and restoring my rightful surname. As everyone knows, in any novel, a party is always a pivotal event! I charged all my action cameras, then scouted the party venue in advance. Drawing on all the imposter-daughter melodramas I’d ever read, I designed a little surprise—just for Serena. On the day of the party, Serena was immediately surrounded by a flock of socialites, who occasionally shot me contemptuous and mocking glances. I walked straight over to them. “Are you talking about me?” “Do you need me to get you a microphone?” They seemed surprised by my direct approach, their faces flushing with embarrassment. Serena offered her signature sweet smile. “Sister, we were just discussing this year’s jewelry collection from Chaumet. Oh, right, I forgot you grew up in the countryside and probably haven’t heard of it.” A ripple of laughter went through the group. Serena covered her mouth, as if realizing her faux pas. “Sister, it’s almost our turn to go on stage. Shall we go find Mom?” The butler appeared at that moment, escorting us to the second floor. “Madam was chatting with some ladies and accidentally spilled something on her gown. She’s currently changing on the second floor.” I adjusted the action camera clipped to my gown, following them. The butler led us to a room and then left. On the table lay Mother’s gown, and inside the room, there seemed to be nothing that could be used to frame me. Only then did I step inside. But as soon as I entered, my legs suddenly felt weak. From behind, Serena pressed an ether-soaked cloth over my nose. “You bitch, didn’t expect this, did you? I’m not trying to frame you—I’d never fall into the same trap twice!” My eyes widened. My body went limp as I collapsed to the floor. Serena’s voice was filled with venom. “Why didn’t you just die out there? Why come back and steal my parents and brother? Because of you, Mom and Dad are now distant from me!” “I’ve had someone hack all the surveillance on this floor. You’re never going to be seen again.” Just then, a woman pushing a hotel cleaning cart emerged from the inner room. Together, they stuffed me into a trash bin, then clamped the lid shut. The last sliver of light vanished into darkness. My limbs were weak, my consciousness hazy, as I was curled into a ball and crammed into the trash can. “The truck is ready,” Serena said, her eyes gleaming with malice. “My instructions are simple: sell her as far away as possible. I want her to spend the rest of her life in some remote mountain village, bearing children for old men! Understand?” “Lynn, this is the life you deserve.” The trash bin was quietly wheeled out of the room. The stench of garbage mingled with the rumble of a truck engine. I heard someone open the truck’s cargo bay. The truck started gently, pulling away from the hotel. Inside the brightly lit hotel, a voice seemed to announce, “Please welcome Serena to the stage.” Curled up in the trash bin, I secretly curved my lips into a smile. “Serena, happy birthday.” “Live broadcast starting now!”

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  • The Poor Student’s Revenge

    The rich kid, Lucas Czuchry, faked bankruptcy, stealing my much-needed scholarship spot. Desperate for the money, I went to confront him, only to overhear his conversation with Jess Thorne. “Thanks to you, Jess, I managed to secure that scholarship. Couldn’t have done it without you.” Jess’s eyes, usually so bright, cast downwards, her tone cool and detached. “Liam is good in every way, but he’s too materialistic and shrewd. Letting him take a hit this time will help temper his character.” So, in her eyes, my poverty was merely “materialistic and shrewd.” We’d known each other for eight years, dated for two. This time, I decided to let go. 1 The private room pulsed with flashing lights and loud music, a blur of red and green. My heart throbbed as I listened to Lucas’s gushing words of gratitude. Someone, feigning a joke, quipped, “Jess, your boyfriend’s family is so poor, are you really letting him suffer?” Jess took a moment, then exhaled a long plume of smoke. “Liam is my boyfriend. If no one else sponsors him, I’ll support him myself.” Lucas, with a smug tilt of his chin, challenged, “Jess, you’re so good to Liam, we’re all jealous. But Liam’s not like us. What if he’s just after your money?” Jess leaned back into the sofa, her tone languid and tinged with condescension. “Liam is good in every way, but he’s too materialistic and shrewd. Letting him take a hit this time will help temper his character.” “You guys never saw it, but he once argued over ten bucks with someone. It was so embarrassing.” “But, if he really likes money, I have plenty. After all, keeping a little bird doesn’t cost much.” The room erupted in laughter, everyone praising Jess’s wisdom. Lucas snorted, “Are you really that fond of Liam?” Jess chuckled lightly, “Yes.” Ha. Is that so? My fists clenched. I couldn’t help but feel a little ridiculous. For two years, while dating Jess, I truly believed she loved me. Even she thought so. But what she loved was Liam—the ambitious, brilliant student who shone brightly at school. She ignored my poverty, the hardship of my struggle to survive, my faded clothes, and my worn-out shoes. A dismissive remark about me being “materialistic and shrewd” branded my very soul. Little did I know this wasn’t love, but a gaze. A condescending gaze from above. So, I pushed open the private room door and walked straight up to Jess, correcting her with a solemn voice: “No. Jess. “You don’t love me.” 2 A deathly silence fell over the private room. Jess had introduced me to her closest friends, so I was somewhat familiar with these faces today. People really are diverse, aren’t they? To my face, they’d call me “brother-in-law,” but behind my back, they reveled in my humiliation, using it for their entertainment. “Liam, you heard all that?” Jess’s eyes flickered. She tried to reach for my hand, but I pulled away. I’d never publicly embarrassed her before, and her face immediately darkened. I offered a slight smile, slipping off the couple’s ring from my finger. “In two years, I only ever asked you for one gift: a two-hundred-dollar matching ring.” My palm turned down, the silver band gleaming under the dim lights. Then, with a soft thud, I tossed it casually onto the floor. I met Jess’s furious gaze, speaking each word clearly and forcefully: “Consider us even. It’s yours now.” “CRASH!” Everyone flinched. Jess slammed her wine glass onto the floor, her eyes burning red. “Liam, are you serious? Over just one scholarship, you’re making such a scene!” Making a scene. The words stung coming from her lips. Jess had forgotten: in high school, to save money, I walked home every day. Some boys publicly called me a hypocrite, claiming a lean, good-looking guy like me was just playing innocent. All along the way, countless girls stared at me. My face flushed, my fists clenched, unsure how to retort. It was Jess who had stepped forward, kicking over the boy’s desk and shielding me. “Liam is mine. If I hear any of you say another bad word about him, try me.” The feeling of falling in love then was real. But the pain now was just as real. Oh, and that boy? That was Lucas. 3 I slowly pulled my thoughts back, my chest rising and falling, finally expelling a sigh of frustration. I figured it must have been Jess’s possessiveness, hearing Lucas mention girls staring at me, that made her so angry. So, it wasn’t entirely for me. It was purely about her pride. Lucas, with a taunting tilt of his chin, cackled incessantly. “Jess, what are you saying? Liam’s angry, go sweet-talk him!” Jess’s eyes were deep and dark, fixed on me like a snake finding its prey. Damp, sticky, and utterly unnerving. That’s how she got when she was angry—not saying a word, but forcing me to appease her. A classic diva tantrum, some would call it. But didn’t poor people deserve to have tempers too? I coldly averted my gaze, turning to Lucas. I asked, with what I considered utmost politeness: “I heard your family went bankrupt?” Lucas froze, then wrinkled his nose, his face openly hostile. “Liam, why do you smell like trash? My family isn’t bankrupt, and don’t come near me, I’m afraid I’ll catch something from you!” I smiled faintly. “Oh? Then why are you on the scholarship list? Could it be that young master Lucas wants to experience life as a scavenger too?” Lucas crossed his arms, rather imperiously. “Liam, Liam, I just wanted to experience how you lower-class people live. But you? You’re destined to pick scraps, always destined to pick scraps. I’ll tell you, it was Jess who deliberately let you use her smartphone so you’d be photographed, and that’s how I got your spot!” Oh, so that’s how it was. I lowered my lashes, a faint pang in my heart. Jess was a germaphobe; she never allowed me to touch her things. I remembered one time, it was raining, and she had a stomachache. I ran to buy her food, and in my haste, I fell and scraped my knee, covered in mud. She frowned at my wound, silent. I urged her to eat, but she simply tossed the food into the trash. She said, “Liam, don’t get hurt for me; it worries me. And also, I don’t like touching things others have touched. It’s dirty.” But her germophobia was fake, and her affection was fake too. She just found me dirty. The earthy smell of rain was exactly like the small shack where my grandfather and I lived. A shack piled high with scrap metal. Lucas was right. I made a living by selling salvaged goods. But I never felt ashamed because of it. 4 “Enough!” Jess suddenly roared. She seemed very tired, rubbing her temples. “Liam, it’s just a scholarship, twenty thousand dollars. Do you really need to fight with Lucas over it? If you need money, I can transfer you five hundred thousand right now.” Jess’s friends immediately chimed in. “Exactly, Liam, Jess still cares for you a lot.” “Liam, I’ll speak fairly. Jess even fell out with Lucas because of you before. She truly loves you.” “It’s just twenty thousand dollars, that’s barely the cost of a pair of shoes. Liam, just forgive Jess this time.” I felt a cold detachment. Twenty thousand dollars might not be much to them, but it was my grandfather’s and my food money for an entire year. Twenty thousand dollars might buy only one pair of shoes on Jess’s feet, but it was the hope I desperately clung to for survival. Last year, when the class representative announced the scholarship selection in the group chat, these spoiled rich kids were laughing and joking. “Who would go for that? Three thousand dollars for one meal?” “Exactly, exactly, I’d look down on anyone who applied for that. Are they really that poor?” Their lives revolved around money, money, and more money. Mine was different; it was filled with poverty, vulnerability, and helplessness. Yes, I was that poor. I needed that money. I couldn’t forget Lucas’s sneering expression when I submitted my application. Nor could I forget the fleeting look of embarrassment on Jess’s face. That day, I broke up with her. Jess refused, pulling me tightly into her arms, apologizing repeatedly. But her way of compensation was to have Lucas take my spot the following year. How ridiculous. Twenty thousand dollars might not be much. But as Jess said, I am materialistic, shrewd, and calculative. So, this was my last shred of dignity. 5 “Jess, you still don’t understand. I said we should break up last year, and you disagreed. So, I’ll say it again.” My voice was soft, yet it carried clearly to everyone in the room. All their faces darkened. I simply smiled and left the private room. Behind me, I faintly heard the sound of things smashing and voices trying to mediate. “Liam is so petty, Jess shouldn’t be with him anymore.” “He really went too far this time. I don’t get what twenty thousand dollars can even do.” … “Pauper,” “excessive,” “disgusting”—these words pierced my ears, but I didn’t care. Outside, it was raining, the sky a gloomy, hazy gray, obscuring my view. Sigh, a little sadness. But when I picked up my phone and listened to the entire recording, I felt much better. Not a single word was missed. It completely documented the truth of how I was wronged, and the fact that Lucas had deliberately taken my spot. I needed that money. I really, really needed it. Just as I finished deleting all of Jess and her friends’ contact information, my phone rang. It was Mr. Peterson, our neighbor. His anxious voice came through: “Liam, where are you? Come home quickly, someone’s here to collect money from your grandfather!” My heart lurched. My mind went blank for nearly three seconds, then I ran home as fast as I could. My grandfather was getting old, his health deteriorating. Not long ago, he’d been hospitalized due to illness. The scholarship money was precisely what I intended to use to pay off the debt. I had set a date with them, and they had agreed, but I never expected them to show up today to collect! My thoughts were a mess, growing more jumbled with every rapid step. Suddenly, I stumbled forward, falling straight into someone’s arms. “Liam? What are you running so fast for? Be careful you don’t fall.” I looked up. It was Iris, a senior from the lab. 6 I didn’t have time to explain to Iris. I quickly thanked her, intending to leave immediately. But Iris held onto me. “Are you in a hurry? If you are, I can drive you.” Without a second thought, I nodded. Iris’s eyes curved slightly, and she led me to her car. Because I was worried about my grandfather, I had chosen a local university when applying. Iris knew this; she had helped me submit my documents when I first joined the lab. The drive was silent. It was Iris who broke it first. “Liam, did something happen at home? Why were you running so fast?” “Yes, my grandfather is in trouble. Someone came to collect a debt.” Iris stopped asking questions. She floored the accelerator, keeping to the fastest possible speed all the way home. As soon as I arrived, I pushed open the car door, only to see my grandfather truly surrounded by those men! “Well, well, the young Mr. Davies is back.” “Don’t blame us for breaking our word. Someone insisted you pay today, so we couldn’t help it, could we?” My grandfather, his back stooped, was trembling. “It’s all my fault, an old man like me, burdening our Liam. I’ll kneel here for you, please don’t make trouble for a young man like him.” “Our Liam still has school, please don’t make things difficult for him! We will pay back this money!” Seeing my grandfather about to kneel, I quickly rushed forward to help him up. A bitter taste filled my mouth, and I clenched my fists before I could compose myself. I forced a calm tone. “Gentlemen, you just said someone demanded I pay today. Could you tell me, who made this demand?” The men exchanged glances. Finally, a burly man with a scar across his face spoke. “Young man, that’s none of your business. Just think about who you’ve had a beef with lately, won’t you?” Inexplicably, Lucas’s name flashed through my mind. The only reason I knew where their gathering was today was because Lucas had sent me a location. It seemed everything was his carefully orchestrated plan! “Can you give me one more month? I’ve applied for a student aid grant, and it should be disbursed in a month. I’ll also work odd jobs this month. Please, just one more month.” The burly man chuckled. “That’s not up to us to decide.” Suddenly, a voice rang out from outside the house: “I’ll pay it for him.”

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  • The Maid’s Revenge

    “Mr. Jacobs, I didn’t mishear you, did I? You said the main family is giving me a raise?” The man before me was the head butler of the top-tier Jacobs family, and effectively, my boss. I had worked for the Jacobs family for three years, handling all the chores inside and outside the house by myself. Now, the main family was giving me a raise. “Mrs. Peterson, do you have any other thoughts on the salary?” I smiled, untying my apron and gently placing it aside. “No thoughts. I plan to resign.” 1 Mr. Jacobs paused, glancing at the apron, a hint of confusion in his eyes. “Mrs. Peterson, are you dissatisfied with the salary?” I shook my head. “Mr. Jacobs, I simply don’t want to work here anymore.” Three years. From the day I arrived in this big city from the countryside, until now, I had worked for the Jacobs family for three years. Back then, the Jacobs family wasn’t quite as it is today. They had always been a wealthy family, never short on money. However, Mr. Jacobs Sr. was an illegitimate son, and he had married a woman with no family connections or background. When I first arrived, even a junior maid could freely pilfer things from the household. Eventually, I couldn’t stand it anymore and stepped forward. I was a countrywoman, with no grand education, but I understood how to manage people. The method I devised for winning over the staff is still used on new servants in the Jacobs household today. “Mrs. Peterson, you must understand, it’s almost the holidays, the busiest time of the year. If you choose to leave now…” Mr. Jacobs considered his words carefully. “Then we can only pay your salary up to last month. All holiday bonuses and benefits will be forfeited.” “Those things, for me, make little difference whether I have them or not,” I said, shaking my head. “I don’t need them.” Mr. Jacobs’s expression soured slightly. He scrutinized me, his tone filled with bewilderment. “Mrs. Peterson, I know you had a small disagreement with Mrs. Jacobs a few days ago, but you must understand, you are an employee of the Jacobs family. Some matters must naturally prioritize the employer’s opinion.” I smiled faintly, a touch of pallor in my face, and suddenly asked Mr. Jacobs a question. “Mr. Jacobs, do you know what tasks I typically perform?” Mr. Jacobs was visibly stunned and remained silent. I continued speaking, unprompted. “Every morning, I wake up at five, go grocery shopping at five-thirty, make breakfast at six, and remind Mr. and Mrs. Jacobs to get up at six-thirty.” “At seven, I dress and wash Miss Lily, at seven-thirty, I take her to school, and at eight, I prepare formula and change diapers for young Master Ben.” Mr. Jacobs was speechless, about to speak, but I gave him no chance. “Mr. Jacobs, this is just my morning work. I won’t bother to mention my tasks for the afternoon and evening.” “Mrs. Peterson, capable people do more. The Jacobs family is not an ordinary household, and there are indeed many things to be done…” I took a deep breath. “But I’m not the only one in this house.” Mr. Jacobs fell silent. I let out a bitter laugh, turning to leave. Mr. Jacobs’s voice sounded behind me. “Mrs. Peterson, have you truly thought this through? Once the arrow is shot, there’s no turning back. If you regret it later…” “I have.” I met Mr. Jacobs’s gaze, unflinching, my voice firm. Mr. Jacobs sighed. “Do you know? Mrs. Jacobs always refused to give you a raise before.” “What?” This time, it was my turn to be stunned. Mr. Jacobs glanced at me. “A long time ago, I suggested giving you a raise, but Mrs. Jacobs refused.” I was somewhat incredulous. “Why?” Mr. Jacobs touched his nose, a rare hint of guilt in his expression. “She said you were just a housekeeper, and the salary you were already receiving was quite high. There was no need to ‘feed your ambition.’” “Feed my ambition?” I murmured. Me? The person who had diligently managed everything, inside and out, for the mistress for three years? The person who climbed out of bed in the middle of the night whenever young Master Ben cried, to soothe him back to sleep? The person who had been worked like a dog, yet never complained? I had no idea my “ambition” was so great, so overtly displayed that the mistress felt she needed to guard against it? I suddenly burst out laughing. Mr. Jacobs flinched. “Mrs. Peterson, what are you laughing at?” I wiped away the tears that came with my laughter. “Nothing, Mr. Jacobs. Since Mrs. Jacobs has said such a thing, let her see who truly has the biggest appetite.” Mr. Jacobs looked at me disapprovingly. “Mrs. Peterson, you don’t need to be so resentful…” He opened his mouth as if to say more, but I didn’t give him the chance. “Mr. Jacobs, I am not resentful. These are my genuine thoughts.” I smiled at him, then turned and left. The house was quiet. Mr. and Mrs. Jacobs were at work, and the children were at school. The path from the living room to the entryway was one I had walked countless times over these three years. For the last time, I etched everything in my sight into my memory. As I changed my shoes in the entryway, I noticed the scattered slippers by the shoe rack and, instinctively, tidied them. After I finished, I straightened up, paused, and suddenly felt a touch of irony. An unconscious act, one I’d performed countless times over the years, now ingrained in my very being. I closed my eyes, opening the front door without a hint of reluctance. Three years ago, I arrived with nothing. Three years later, I leave, still empty-handed. Passing through the garden, I overheard two maids talking in low voices. “What do you think Mr. Jacobs called Mrs. Peterson for?” “I know! The main family is giving Mrs. Peterson a raise.” “Really? But I heard Mrs. Peterson’s salary hasn’t gone up in years.” “No way. Is her salary only three thousand a month? She seems to do so much work…” One of the maids deliberately lowered her voice, but I still heard her clearly. “Keep your voice down. Mrs. Jacobs once said that Mrs. Peterson, being from the countryside, was already getting too much with three thousand. Give her more, and her ego would swell to the sky…” I didn’t linger to hear more, heading directly to my living quarters. My home was a humble little house in the Jacobs’s backyard. Three years ago, when I first arrived at the Jacobs household, I was dressed in country attire, my face reflecting a complete lack of worldly experience. The person who hired me back then was Mrs. Jacobs Sr., the matriarch. Mrs. Jacobs Sr.’s reputation wasn’t exactly stellar. As the former mistress of the late Mr. Jacobs, even if unknowingly, she had faced much controversy. It wasn’t until she gave birth to Mr. Jacobs Sr. that her situation improved, receiving compensation from the Jacobs family and setting up her own household with her son. Yet, fate had a twisted sense of humor. The late Mr. Jacobs’s other sons had either died or proven useless, leaving only Mr. Jacobs Sr. as a somewhat acceptable heir in his final days. And so, Mr. Jacobs Sr. became the Jacobs family’s successor. Outsiders marveled at Mrs. Jacobs Sr.’s good fortune, but only she knew whether this immense wealth was a blessing or a curse. At that time, Mrs. Jacobs Sr. and Mr. Jacobs Jr. were already married. The matriarch hadn’t anticipated such an opportunity falling to her son, so she had let him follow his own preferences. Mrs. Jacobs Jr. came from an ordinary background; in a prominent family, she was naturally not up to par. The matriarch, a fellow countrywoman of mine, seeing her daughter-in-law making a mess of the Jacobs household, specifically sent someone to invite me. Although I was just a middle-aged woman from the countryside, the matriarch understood that sometimes, we common folk understood more about human nature and practicalities than city dwellers. “Mrs. Peterson, my only concern is my daughter-in-law. She’s never managed such a large household. If the staff below try to deceive her, I need you to keep an eye on things.” The matriarch’s kind, benevolent face as she spoke to me is still vivid in my memory. “Madam, if you trust me, I won’t mess things up for you.” On my first day at the Jacobs’s, I took my post, and there I stood for three years. For that single promise to “keep an eye,” I worked diligently for these three years, believing myself to be clear of conscience. Back then, the Jacobs household had many servants, but all the responsibilities seemed to fall on me alone. “Mrs. Jacobs, shouldn’t we divide the household chores? It would be more organized.” When I cautiously presented my idea to the then-mistress, the refined woman didn’t even look up at me, instead scrutinizing her fingernails. After a long pause, she replied indifferently, “We’ll see. Mrs. Peterson, just take care of your duties.” And so, I worked for three years, and my tasks were never distributed. Every single matter, inside and outside the Jacobs family, had to pass through my hands. The other servants in the house only helped out when the Jacobs family entertained guests. This was all because Mrs. Jacobs felt I was not presentable enough to be in charge, fearing I would embarrass her. Over these years, the Jacobs family’s development stabilized, with prominent figures constantly coming and going. As Mr. and Mrs. Jacobs’s social engagements increased, I spun around like a top every day, tirelessly busy. Whenever the Jacobs couple returned home late at night, they were always greeted by my smiling face and a steaming hot meal. It seemed that somewhere along the line, Mrs. Peterson had become a perpetually on-call presence in the Jacobs household. I no longer remembered how long it had been since I had any private time. Sometimes, in a daze, I would feel like Mr. and Mrs. Jacobs’s old nanny. What was ironic was that, despite constantly calling me “Mrs. Peterson,” the couple never truly held me in their hearts. To them, I was merely a machine, my salary the fuel that kept me serving them. I wasn’t without holidays. In my first year, during the holidays, Mr. and Mrs. Jacobs granted me a month off. I remember clearly: that day, I had just finished packing my things and was about to leave when a maid frantically found me, saying Mrs. Jacobs had fallen and gone into premature labor. I didn’t have time to think, dropping my belongings and rushing her to the hospital. The Jacobs’s maids were all in a state of panic, losing their heads. I was equally terrified, but I still forced myself to settle Mrs. Jacobs, not forgetting to call Mr. Jacobs in the meantime. That holiday season, I spent in the cold hospital corridor. Through the wall, I could hear the joyous laughter of Mr. Jacobs and his new family of three. And just like that, I missed my first long break. The second year, I asked for a vacation, but Mrs. Jacobs objected. “Mrs. Peterson, I’m in confinement. If you leave now, what will happen to me and the baby?” Hearing this, I felt a bit helpless. “Mrs. Jacobs, you could hire a professional postnatal caregiver. After all, I’m not a specialist in that area…” My intention was to offer helpful advice, but Mrs. Jacobs didn’t take it in at all. Instead, she only thought I was trying to be lazy. “Why would I need a postnatal caregiver when I have you? Mrs. Peterson, my mother-in-law didn’t hire you to enjoy yourself. If everyone acted like you, leaving whenever they pleased, what kind of example would that set?” Her words struck me speechless. I really wanted to say that any other servant in the house had more holidays than me, and since starting work, I had only asked for this one time… In the third year, Mrs. Jacobs was expecting young Master Ben. Recalling the past three years, I suddenly realized I had been away from home for a full three years, and hadn’t returned even once. A bitter ache spread across my chest. I blinked, and tears fell silently. What had I gained in these three years? In the first year, the Jacobs family paid me three thousand dollars, with food and lodging included. Mrs. Jacobs Sr. told me this was a trial period for city folks. After the trial, my salary would increase to ten thousand, like the other servants; this was something she had discussed with Mrs. Jacobs Sr. long ago. In the second year, the Jacobs family still paid me three thousand dollars. In the third year, the Jacobs family still paid me three thousand dollars. Unlike other servants, I didn’t have my own separate meals during these three years. Each time, I waited for the Jacobs family to finish eating, then cleaned up the leftovers. I didn’t mind; in my eyes, the Jacobs family ate lavish meals I could only dream of before, and the leftovers were no different from what I was used to eating back in the countryside. As for living arrangements, it was also different from the other servants. Their accommodation was in apartments next to the Jacobs mansion. As for me, Mrs. Jacobs Jr. had me live alone in a small house in the backyard. Calling it a small house, it was actually just two six-square-meter single rooms. I wasn’t without doubts, after all, people are inherently selfish. Seeing those who put in less effort receive better treatment easily makes one feel uneasy. I sought out Mrs. Jacobs Jr. “Mrs. Peterson, are you comparing yourself to the other nannies? They are all hired from an agency and have to give a commission to their company. How can they be compared to someone from the countryside like you?” I opened my mouth to speak. “But Mrs. Jacobs, Mrs. Jacobs Sr. told me my salary…” Mrs. Jacobs Jr. smiled, a look I couldn’t quite decipher hidden in her expression. “Mrs. Peterson, you are my family’s employee, so naturally, you’ll receive the treatment I deem appropriate for my family.” I fell silent. I had thought that after so many things, my heart had already grown numb. Yet, upon hearing Mr. Jacobs utter those words, my heart couldn’t help but tremble. “Feed my ambition?” Actually, I had overheard Mrs. Jacobs and Mr. Jacobs chatting that day. “Mrs. Jacobs, Mrs. Peterson has put in so much hard work over the years, even if it’s not recognized. Don’t you think her salary should be increased?” I stood not far off, and hearing Mr. Jacobs’s words, my eyes involuntarily welled up. To avoid drawing attention, I didn’t linger to listen, turning to leave instead, naturally missing Mrs. Jacobs’s subsequent remarks. Later, when my salary wasn’t increased, I naturally deduced something was amiss. Even now, I still find it laughable. For three years, I worked diligently, day in and day out, for that three-thousand-dollar salary, working myself sick. Even so, Mrs. Jacobs still thought my ambition was too great? As a housekeeper, cook, and postnatal caregiver, my monthly salary was only three thousand. Meanwhile, the new recruits the Jacobs family continuously hired from agencies all started with a base salary of ten thousand. Every new hire was placed under my guidance by Mr. Jacobs, so I naturally knew their situation intimately. Watching those I had trained perform the easiest tasks, yet earn several times my salary, who wouldn’t feel resentful? Each month, when I received my salary, I would discreetly mention to Mr. Jacobs that I wanted to apply for a raise, after all, that three thousand was initially agreed upon as an internship wage. But each time, Mr. Jacobs would equivocate, brushing it off with vague responses. “Mrs. Peterson, I will convey your request to the main family, but don’t be too impatient.” “After all, the Jacobs family has so many servants, and Mr. and Mrs. Jacobs are so busy. It’s normal for them to overlook things for a while.” And so, I waited year after year, only to be told I had “big ambitions.” Of all the servants in the Jacobs household, only I genuinely wished for the Jacobs family’s true well-being. Only I truly treated all matters of the Jacobs family as my own, personally handling everything. You all spoke of fearing you’d “feed my ambition,” so now, let me show you whose ambition is truly grand. I silently packed my belongings, no longer dwelling on things. Halfway through, Mrs. Jacobs came to find me. She had likely just returned from work and heard Mr. Jacobs’s report. I glanced at Mrs. Jacobs, saying nothing. In all these years, this was the first time she had condescended to visit my living quarters. “Mrs. Peterson, Mr. Jacobs tells me you wish to resign?” Seeing my continued silence, a flicker of displeasure crossed Mrs. Jacobs’s face, but she patiently pressed on. I nodded, answering without servility. “Yes, Mrs. Jacobs. My things are packed; I will be leaving shortly.” “Mrs. Peterson, the holidays are almost here. Isn’t it a bit impulsive to leave now?” A rare hint of surprise flickered across Mrs. Jacobs’s face. “Mr. Jacobs’s words imply that you’re leaving because you’re unhappy with the salary?” I shook my head. “No, Mrs. Jacobs. I simply don’t want to work anymore; it’s for personal reasons.” “Mrs. Peterson, I’m not saying this to be mean, but at your age, if you choose to resign now, it will be very difficult to find another job like this. Or have you already been poached by someone?” Facing Mrs. Jacobs’s scrutinizing gaze, I sneered inwardly. “No.” This time, Mrs. Jacobs completely lost her composure. She looked at me in disbelief. “Since none of those are your reasons for leaving, Mrs. Peterson, don’t tell me you want to leave because you have an issue with me?” “I know you’re capable, but nannies are a dime a dozen. If it weren’t for my mother-in-law, I could replace you anytime with someone younger and more efficient.” By the end, there was a subtle hint of threat in Mrs. Jacobs’s tone. Hearing this, I sighed deeply, suddenly weary of life in the Jacobs household. What else was there to say? “Mrs. Jacobs, do you know what tasks I perform every day?” I asked Mrs. Jacobs the same question I had just asked Mr. Jacobs. This time, it was Mrs. Jacobs’s turn to be stunned. I smiled at Mrs. Jacobs, said nothing, and turned to continue packing my things. Since Mrs. Jacobs said anyone could replace me, why should I stay here and make a fool of myself? After finishing my packing, I left just as the Jacobs family’s other servants were finishing their shifts. Looking at the lights illuminating the Jacobs mansion, my nose stung. For three years, this was the first time I could leave as soon as work hours ended. Usually, at this time, I had no concept of personal time. My routine was different from the other servants; even after their shift ended, I still had to serve the Jacobs family. But starting today, I would no longer be bound by these things. Carrying my belongings, I stood on the empty street, feeling a sense of bewilderment for the first time. Where should I go? For some reason, Mrs. Jacobs’s words suddenly came to mind: “Those servants are all hired from agencies. How can they compare to someone from the countryside with no connections or background like you?” My fingers curled slightly. I hailed a taxi and, following the directions, found a domestic staffing agency. Standing before the tall building, dressed simply and carrying a worn suitcase, I felt utterly out of place. For the first time, a sense of timidity rose within me. I doubted whether I would be deemed suitable. “Hello, Mrs. Peterson, are you here to apply for a position?” The person who greeted me was a very young woman. After learning my request, she first asked me a few simple questions, then took me to a room to perform some basic housework tests. After seeing the test results, the young woman’s face showed a hint of satisfaction. “Alright, Mrs. Peterson, we’ll introduce you to your first client family. This family is mainly looking to hire a postnatal caregiver for their child, offering a salary of around one hundred thousand dollars. Are you satisfied with that?” I froze, repeating in disbelief, “One hundred thousand?” The young woman nodded. Seeing my complex expression, she couldn’t help but ask further, “Well, Mrs. Peterson, you have extensive experience, and based on the test, it’s clear you’re very knowledgeable about all aspects of household tasks. One hundred thousand is only considered a moderate salary.” “If I may be so bold as to ask, what was your salary at your previous employer?” I opened my mouth with difficulty. “Three thousand.” The young woman paused, then looked at me, her gaze filled with a touch of sympathy. “Mrs. Peterson, are you serious? Then they clearly didn’t recognize your worth! Don’t worry, leave it to our company. We will definitely find you the best-paying job.” After a simple interview, I successfully signed a contract with the domestic staffing agency. After moving into the apartment the agency arranged for me, I was still in a state of bewilderment. It turned out I wasn’t as pathetic as Mrs. Jacobs had claimed. It turned out that in the outside world, my value was far greater than I had imagined. The thought of being confined to the Jacobs household for three full years brought tears to my eyes. Fortunately, all of that was in the past.

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