“My mother is the person I hate most, and I am the person she hates most.” She hated me for being conceived after a brutal assault by a street thug. Even when I topped my class, she had me expelled because, due to health issues, she had no choice but to carry me to term. I hated her for being a terrible mother, and because of her, I developed a twisted, possessive need for maternal love. When I was four, she threw me into a river to drown. After I was rescued, I blackmailed her, threatening to make her streak naked down the street if she didn’t sign the non-prosecution agreement. When she was hospitalized after a car accident, I used a stone to carve my name into her body while she was immobile. After she was discharged, she uncharacteristically bought me an ice cream, but secretly sprinkled a powder on it that attracted bees, causing them to sting my mouth raw. No matter what, she would only ever call me a bastard, and even shoved me into a cabinet, nailing the door shut. Yet, through the crack in the door, I saw my thug father. And through the same crack, my mother looked at me, making a ‘shush’ gesture. … My mother, a ‘distinguished parent,’ had just taken the stage to give a speech at my senior year commencement rally. But the moment she opened her mouth, the audience began to murmur. “This little bastard of mine, I know her rotten character better than anyone. There’s no way she earned these grades honestly; she must have cheated.” “This school, honestly, it’s senior year. Can you please stop deluding yourselves?” The principal’s face instantly darkened, and he gestured for a teacher to pull her off the stage. The students were already buzzing, marveling at my mother’s audacity. But my mother, ignoring the teacher’s attempts to stop her, continued her ‘speech’ on stage. “What a joke of a school! And you, you little bastard, weren’t you supposed to have me here to collect a prize? Otherwise, I wouldn’t have bothered coming. Do you know how much I make in a day? You’ve got some nerve, trying to fool me!” Her voice trailed off as she was finally escorted away. I stood below the stage, not a trace of shame on my face. Instead, I felt a thrill of victory for having successfully tricked her. The speech was the last item on the agenda. Afterward, everyone could go home. I saw a crowd forming ahead and immediately recognized what was happening, pushing my way forward. It was my mother, of course. A student asked her, “Who is the ‘bastard’ you were talking about?” My mother blurted out, “My daughter.” Another student asked her what she did for work. My mother glanced at me, then grinned as she replied, “Me? What do you think someone as pretty as me does?” Lila Bright, who always had it in for me, chimed in, “I bet you’re a prostitute!” The surrounding chatter instantly died, followed by a burst of laughter. My fists clenched, my gaze fixed on Lila, wishing I could burn a hole through her with my stare. But Lila seemed unfazed, arms crossed, a smirk playing on her lips as she looked at me. “What are you staring at? I’m not wrong. Every day I go home, I see your mom coming out of that massage parlor. My mom said the jobs there aren’t reputable, and it’s even been reported before!” Everyone turned to look, and the crowd grew larger. But my mother remained unconcerned, showing no intention of refuting it. Instead, she grinned at Lila. “Oh, little girl, you know quite a lot. Tell you what, send your dad to my shop sometime, mention my name, and I’ll give him a ten percent discount. I guarantee he’ll leave feeling completely satisfied!” It was an indirect admission of her profession. Lila’s face turned scarlet, speechless. Just then, a teacher arrived and dispersed the crowd. Furious, I grabbed a plastic stool meant for parents and slammed it onto my mother’s head. She, in turn, angrily swung her own stool at my head. “Your brain must be rusted, you can’t even hurl an insult! Are you happy listening to others curse your mother every day?!” We practically clawed at each other, fighting all the way home. Many people on the street stared, whispering behind their hands. My chest felt constricted, a knot of frustration I couldn’t untangle, fueling the force of my blows against my mother. As punishment, the moment we got home, she locked me directly into a wooden cabinet in the kitchen, nailing the door shut. Memories, like a busy street, flashed through my mind. Before I was four, my grandmother raised me. After she passed, I returned to my mother’s side for the first time. The first night living with my mother, I lay in bed, anxious, clutching a small paper flower I had folded, sweating with nerves. In the darkness, my mother fumbled her way to the bed. The rehearsed words caught in my throat, my eyes wide with shock. My mother lifted me with one hand, then, as if casually discarding something unimportant, dropped me onto the floor. “Who told you to lie there? If my mom hadn’t forced you on me before she died, do you think I’d take in a little bastard like you?” “So filthy, and you dare get into my bed? Don’t you know I hate children more than anything?” After she spoke, she spat on me again, her disdainful gaze practically nailing me to the ground. I had never seen such a fierce mother, completely unlike little Timmy’s mom in the village. Trembling, I sat on the floor, my round eyes wide with terror. I was ordered to leave, but I shamelessly huddled by the bed, sleeping there all night. I woke up many times in the middle of the night, terrified my mother would vanish again if I opened my eyes. Overwhelmed with fear, I didn’t even notice a blanket had been placed over me. But when I finally opened my eyes, my mother was gone. I ran barefoot through the streets, searching everywhere for her, finally finding her in a massage parlor. Her hands held something I didn’t recognize, tapping repeatedly on a man’s body. The man’s hands roamed freely over my mother’s thighs. I might have been mistaken, but my mother seemed to glance my way, then quickly averted her eyes. She then slapped the man’s hand irritably, yelling, “Are you trying to get yourself killed?! What are you groping for?! Don’t you believe I’d chop off that hand right now?!” I thought, the man so intimate with my mother must be my father. I immediately ran up to him and called out “Dad.” When my mother turned and saw it was me, the fury in her eyes finally broke free. She ignored the man, chasing me all the way to the river. I had a bad feeling. Sure enough, the next second, seeing no one around, she picked me up and threw me into the river. As I fell, I saw murderous intent in my mother’s eyes. It was a cold day, and I was only wearing thin clothes, flailing desperately in the water. She walked away, without a backward glance. Eventually, a passerby found me and took me to the police station. I didn’t hesitate for a second, looking at the officer intently. “My mother threw me into the river!” My mother was arrested, and the first thing she said when she saw me chilled my heart even further: “You have such a strong will to live, you actually didn’t die!” My soaking hair was still dripping water. I didn’t understand why my mother, whom I had only known for two days, would throw me into the river. Grandmother had always said that only disobedient children would be eaten by the river monster. My mother forced me to sign a non-prosecution agreement, saying she had important things to do and couldn’t go to jail yet. In that moment, words beyond my years came out of my mouth. “If you want me to forgive you, then you’ll have to streak naked down the street. Otherwise, I won’t forgive you.” She raised her hand to hit me in anger, forgetting she was at the police station, and couldn’t follow through. The officer asked if I wanted to go to an orphanage. Before I could refuse, my mother became agitated! “What for? What if I have to pay? Besides, if she leaves, who will serve me?!” The officer looked at me with sympathy, trying to explain that orphanages were free, but my mother impatiently refused. From then on, a seed of wickedness was sown in my heart. I developed a pathological possessiveness over maternal love. No matter what my mother did to me, it only fueled my desire for revenge. I was locked in the cabinet, but I didn’t struggle. Instead, I thought about how I could ‘get back at her’ later. Should I deliberately arrange a car accident to cripple her, or simply disfigure her with acid? Distracted, I saw my face reflected in something shiny. It was a knife! I jumped, instinctively wondering if someone had broken in. The knife drew closer and closer, finally pressing against the crack in the cabinet door. I panicked, my heart racing. The person outside kept pounding on the cabinet door, making loud thudding sounds. I huddled in the corner, praying they wouldn’t find me. Until I saw the person’s face—it was my thug father! I had seen his picture at home before, marked with several angry red crosses by my mother. Suddenly, his face disappeared! Then my mother appeared, looking terrified, and made a ‘shush’ gesture with her finger. I instantly realized something and started pounding on the cabinet door frantically. Through the crack, I could see my mother’s body slowly falling, until she lay still. I even cried out inside the cabinet, but the door had been nailed shut, impossible to open. My mother could only be killed by my revenge; no one else was allowed to kill her! I started to search for a tool on my body, and when I looked up again, my mother was standing on the ground. She then stood there, laughing loudly, looking at me as if I were a clown. “You bastard, are you stupid? Reading a couple of books really made you an idiot! Let me tell you, someone like you, going to school is useless! Starting tomorrow, you’re not allowed to go to school anymore, and I won’t give you a single penny!” I felt like an absolute fool, thoroughly played by my mother. She stood there like a madwoman, holding the knife—the very knife I had seen earlier. So, everything just now had been her own elaborate act. I swore at her, which only angered her. She made a small hole above the cabinet and threw a snake inside from somewhere. I remembered someone saying there were snakes in the neighborhood, but the property management hadn’t done anything. The cabinet was pitch black, with only a sliver of light coming through that hole. “You little bastard, still daring to curse me? You can sleep with the snake in the cabinet tonight!” My mother left with a harsh threat, and the room grew so quiet I could hear the snake’s hissing. I grabbed the snake’s head, trying to bite it to death, but it still bit me unexpectedly. My consciousness blurred, and I could barely see anything. A figure reappeared at the crack in the door. I wanted to call out to my mother for help. This snake was venomous. Before I could even speak, the person lunged at me with that same knife, stabbing me fiercely. One stab, two stabs, three stabs… Blood continuously gushed from the knife wounds, staining the body of the snake I had just killed. Because the venom was so potent, I couldn’t even scream. In the second before I lost consciousness, I clearly saw the person’s face. It wasn’t my mother, but my thug father—he had broken in and attacked me! The man finished his assault and quickly left. I clutched my wounds, trying to slow the blood loss. My consciousness drifted, and I could clearly see my own body lying in a pool of blood. My mother didn’t notice anything amiss. She packed her things and left for her night shift at the massage parlor. Halfway there, she suddenly remembered she’d forgotten her electric scooter keys, so she pulled out her phone to call me. The call didn’t connect. She seemed to have forgotten the fact that I was locked in the cabinet and couldn’t answer. So she frowned, cursing at her phone, “This little bastard, how dare she not answer my call.” She had no choice but to go back for her keys. As she passed the cabinet, she saw the blood spreading out from it. Annoyed, she kicked the cabinet hard. “So, you’re quite capable, huh? You actually killed the snake!” She quickly grabbed her keys, but then turned back, holding a snake she had seen in the hallway. She casually threw it into the hole above. As she threw it, she taunted, “Afraid you’re bored, so here’s another one. Hope you just die already!” Seeing no response from me, a flicker of doubt crossed her face. “That snake has no patterns. Is it even venomous? What are you playing dead for?!” I stood beside her, watching this scene, a bitter smile on my face. How I wished I could tell her that I was already dead, and that the snake’s belly did have patterns. She no longer had to think about how to humiliate me every day, or how to get rid of me. All I hoped for now was that my spirit would cling to her for the rest of her life. If she knew that the person she hated most, even in death, would haunt her forever, she would be furious! This was my first time seeing my mother work the night shift at the massage parlor. But strangely, no matter how much those men took advantage, she didn’t get angry and stop them, or yell at them like before. Yet every time I had caught her, she had been furious. It wasn’t until three in the morning that she finally got to rest. My soul, beyond my control, hovered around my mother. I couldn’t see the state of my body, but I imagined it must have been bitten dozens of times by the newly introduced snake. My mother received a call from a teacher asking why I hadn’t been to school. But my mother, upon hearing the teacher’s voice, immediately hung up and blocked the number. “She didn’t go to school, so go find her! What does it have to do with me?!” After returning home, she immediately collapsed onto the bed and slept soundly. How I wished I could pour a bucket of cold water on her! Even if she didn’t love me, she should at least come collect my body! She was my mother, after all… My mother usually slept until evening after her night shift. But this time, for some reason, she woke up suddenly as if from a nightmare, her eyes fixed on the direction of the kitchen. She walked with heavy steps towards the cabinet, towards my corpse, and called out my name. “Bastard?” I didn’t respond. It had been almost two hours; my body must be ice cold by now. My mother paused in front of that pool of blood, reaching out a trembling hand to touch it. She suddenly realized it wasn’t snake blood, but human blood! She called my name again, her voice trembling. I had never seen her like this, not even when she had thrown me into the river with her own hands. She looked terrified, and immediately grabbed tools, pulling out the nails one by one. Finding the tools difficult to use, she started pulling them out with her bare hands, even using her teeth to bite them. Finally, her fingers were bloody and raw, half a tooth broken, but all the nails were removed. But when she trembled and opened the cabinet door, she screamed in horror! Inside the cabinet, my chest had a gaping, bloody hole. The blood had dried on my chest, already soaking through my shirt. Two snakes lay beside me. One I had already killed, while the other slithered nearby, occasionally hissing. I had expected her to be happy when she saw I was dead, even clapping and cheering with joy. After all, she had disliked me from the very first day she knew of my existence. To my surprise, she stood motionless before me, as if her spirit had been sucked dry by a monster. I floated beside her, thinking she was scared by my appearance, and instinctively blurted out a taunt. “Hey, is that all the guts you have? Can’t you see I’m dead? Aren’t you going to collect the body?!” The sarcastic words escaped my lips, and I almost forgot that the dead person was me. And my mother couldn’t hear me. She stood there for two minutes, unmoving, her gaze fixed on the blood-soaked hole in my chest. She slowly knelt, reaching out to check my breath, but her hand stopped abruptly in mid-air. Then she began to shake me violently. “Bastard, do you think playing dead will make me feel sorry for you?” “It’s just a few snakes, what’s the big deal? They can’t actually kill you, can they?” “Didn’t you used to eat snake meat when you were little? How come you can’t even kill a snake now?!” That’s right, my mother was so confident throwing snakes in because when I was little, she starved me for three days and nights without food. I happened to find a snake, so I simply ate it. But no matter how much my mother shook me, I wouldn’t wake up again. I watched her from the side, wondering how much she truly hated me. I was dead, and she still treated me this way. So I became even more determined in my idea: I would float by my mother’s side in spirit form, until my consciousness faded. Didn’t she hate me? Then I would stick to her and haunt her! Seeing that I still hadn’t woken up, she seemed to confirm the fact of my death and turned and ran. My heart sank a little. I didn’t follow my mother’s spirit. Instead, I began to calculate how long it would be before my body started to smell, and how long until someone discovered me. But I was too far from my mother, and was forcibly pulled back to her side. I was shocked to find she was on the phone. But she was too nervous, her fingers trembling, constantly dialing the wrong number. I clearly saw a tear on the phone screen. Then, two drops, three drops… My mother was actually crying. I stopped, looking at her in disbelief, my mind a jumble. This was the first time I had ever seen her cry. For whom? She finally got through to the emergency services! On the phone, my mother screamed, frantically urging them to hurry. The emergency operator’s routine questions, in her eyes, were just delays. The operator on the other end told my mother to calm down, saying that being anxious wouldn’t help. My mother suddenly roared, screaming hysterically, “If your family member died, would you be so calm?!” Not only did the operator fall silent, but even I was stunned. My face froze, then softened with relief, a gentle smile gracing my lips. Could I be hallucinating after death? Medical personnel quickly arrived, but after only a brief look, they told my mother there was no need for treatment. I had lost too much blood and had long since passed. “Who said there’s no need for treatment? Why not treat her? Do you think I can’t afford it?!” She rushed over agitatedly, grabbing a medic’s collar, the ferocity in her eyes even more resolute than when she’d thrown me into the river. The medic initially wanted to explain, but seeing the emotion in my mother’s eyes, they agreed to take me away. How I wanted to stop her, to tell her there was no need to treat me, it would just be a waste of money. But my hand passed directly through my mother’s body, causing me to stumble. The hospital issued a pile of examination forms, again asking my mother if she wished to continue treatment. My mother, annoyed, snapped at the doctor, “How many times do I have to say it?! Are you doctors deaf, or what? I said, treat her!”

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The car crash that killed my parents happened while I was on the operating table, undergoing an abortion. It was our second child, mine and Jace Frost’. At my parents’ funeral, I called Jace again and again. Until his childhood sweetheart, Nora Vance, answered, her tone sharp with impatience: “Jace is washing strawberries for me. What do you want?” Clutching the urn with my parents’ ashes, my expression was distant. “Nothing. Just tell Jace, after you’ve finished your strawberries, that I agree to the divorce.” 1 I cremated my parents’ bodies alone. Along with the second child I had deliberately ended, the one I shared with my husband, Jace Frost. All my loved ones in this world were confined together in that small incinerator. Reduced to a handful of ashes. But it didn’t matter anymore. I was dying too. My parents had been kind people their entire lives; many relatives and friends attended their funeral. The only one conspicuously absent was Jace. My parents’ dearest friend, Uncle Ben, mentioned Jace’s name and shook his head with resentment, his eyes full of pity when he looked at me. They all said very similar things: “The Peterson couple, kind their whole lives, ended up supporting an ungrateful viper like Jace Frost!” Dressed in black mourning clothes, clutching the urn, I walked along the path to the burial site. The sky was overcast. My lower abdomen still throbbed faintly; I slowly touched it. It had once nurtured two unborn children. What a pity… Never mind. Their father didn’t love me, so he wouldn’t have loved them either. The half of my wrist exposed from the sleeve of my mourning gown was thin and withered. I remembered the doctor saying I had three months left to live. In these three months, I would take my parents’ and baby’s ashes to see the world one last time. Without Jace. I took out my phone and dialed the number I knew by heart. Again and again, no answer. Not until the 13th attempt did it finally connect. But it was Nora who spoke, her voice petulant and demanding: “Big sis, it’s four in the morning in Los Angeles!” In the past, I would have hysterically cursed her. But now, my heart was calm, devoid of emotion. I simply said, “I need to speak to Jace about something.” Nora scoffed, utterly impatient. “Jace is washing strawberries for me. What do you want?” Before I could answer, she sneered again, “Don’t you think you’re being too possessive? We just finished a big meeting, and Jace and I are both exhausted. Just tell me directly whatever you want.” I was silent for a moment, my gaze falling on the urn in my arms. My expression was detached as I replied, “Nothing. After you’ve finished your strawberries, tell Jace I agree to the divorce.” Without waiting for her reaction, I hung up. I had loved Jace for ten years, binding him to me through marriage for five. But I still couldn’t warm his heart. Now, I chose to let go. The next time I heard from Jace was the following day. I was sorting through my parents’ belongings. Jace’s voice on the phone was filled with disgust: “Liv Peterson, what are you stirring up now?! I’ve told you countless times, taking Nora abroad this time was just for business cooperation!” “You deliberately made Nora cry again last night, saying you want to divorce me because of her. Nora was heartbroken all night. Do you find that amusing?” Nora was clearly the apple of Jace’s eye. He chose to believe even such a clumsy lie. In the past, I might have felt wronged and tried to explain. But now, he could believe whatever he wanted. I carefully wiped my parents’ photos, softly replying: “Alright. So when are you coming back to the country? We can go to the courthouse for the divorce.” His voice stopped then. A moment of silence. I thought he was considering the property division, so I reassured him: “Don’t worry, I don’t want a single penny from you. I’ll leave with nothing.” Anyway, I wouldn’t live much longer. Jace’s money? I didn’t want it; it felt dirty. Jace, however, gritted his teeth, his voice venomous: “Liv Peterson, I’m not divorcing you! You can forget about it!” With that, he hung up directly. I was speechless. He had left with a harsh threat before going abroad: “Liv Peterson, your family forced Nora away back then. You ruined her chance at happiness.” “If you keep acting up like this, we’ll get a divorce!” He had made that threat because Nora had shattered the urn containing my first child’s ashes. I had slapped her. Jace, who arrived when he heard the commotion, showed only disgust when he saw the ashes on the floor. Nora, crying, explained: “Jace, I didn’t mean it. I’m sorry, I was just scared…” Jace, hearing this, slapped me on Nora’s behalf. His voice filled with revulsion: “They’re already dead. Why keep the ashes in the house? It’s bad luck!” It was then that my heart finally died. He truly didn’t love me, to the point of utterly despising even the child I carried for him. So, on the third day of his trip abroad, I aborted the second child. It was a beautiful, sunny day. My parents had just attended my cousin’s wedding. They didn’t know I was pregnant yet, but they were so happy. They had just received an investment, and with that money, their bankrupt factory could reopen. Just as I was about to call them, I received a recording from an unknown number. The recording contained only Jace’s voice. He said: “…Nora’s brother’s leukemia is a ticking time bomb. Luckily, Liv is still useful. I’ll have another child with her. The baby’s cord blood can save him…” I was thunderstruck. I had always known Jace didn’t love me. But I never imagined he would manipulate me to such an extent! So I gave up. In that moment, the last shred of my love for Jace vanished. I went directly to the hospital for an abortion. But I never expected that my parents would be rear-ended by a dump truck. And perish. Jace returned home on the third day. At that time, I had just returned from the hospital with my medication. A bag full of painkillers. The doctor who prescribed them had a solemn expression and asked me, “Ms. Peterson, where are your family members? Painkillers will only worsen your condition—” I curved my lips, a faint smile forcing its way onto my gaunt, hollow cheeks. “I know. But my family is all gone. I don’t want to live anymore.” The doctor’s words froze. He looked at me with pity. I wore the oversized coat my mother bought me, but it still couldn’t hide the cold that chilled me to the bone. I was truly sick; my physical condition was too poor. I tightened my coat and opened the villa door, only to see Jace sitting on the sofa. When he saw me, he stood up and walked over. But I recoiled a step, as if his aristocratic aura had stung my eyes. His eyes, which had initially held a flicker of expectation, were now covered by a thick cloud of gloom. “Where have you been?” He looked down at me, his voice harsh. I blinked, ignoring the cufflink on his wrist, and said nothing. I had seen that cufflink just two weeks ago on Nora’s social media. It was her birthday gift to him, a custom design. All the gifts I had given him over the years had been discarded for various reasons. A handmade cup, given to a subordinate as an ashtray; a coat that took six months to tailor, later used as a mat for Nora’s dog; even the pregnancy test results for our first meticulously planned child, torn up carelessly… For ten years, I had tirelessly pursued Jace, caring for him, worrying about him, loving him. Now, I was tired. “Why did you go to the hospital? Why do you look so pale? Do you have a fever?” He frowned, stepping closer, reaching to check my forehead, but I dodged him. “Don’t trouble yourself, Mr. Frost. I’m fine.” I lowered my gaze, suddenly understanding Jace’s past feelings. It turned out that when you no longer loved someone, even trying to make small talk with them was exhausting. “It’s still early. We still have time to go to the courthouse.” I returned to the master bedroom, put away my medication, and then went downstairs with our marriage certificate. Only to be met with Jace’s astonished expression. I asked him, “Didn’t you want a divorce? I agree. Let’s go.” Jace’s face instantly turned ashen. As if struck in a raw nerve, he pointed at my nose and roared, “Liv Peterson, what do you mean by this?!” “Why are all you Petersons so selfish? Your parents, seeing my potential, forced me to marry you just because your family supported me for a few years!” “And then used their power to force Nora to study abroad at a young age!” “Now that I’ve made a name for myself, your family is still insatiable, wanting to divorce me to get a share of my earnings so you can run off with your lover?!” He finished his outburst, like an enraged lion, his face contorted in a snarl. Yet, I couldn’t help but want to laugh. And I did. The tremors in my abdomen exacerbated the ache in my muscles, and tears streamed down my face as I laughed uncontrollably. So, my parents, these good people who spent years on charity. Sponsoring Jace Frost, a brilliant student whose parents had died, was that wrong? My secret decade-long love for Jace, begging my parents to secretly give Jace’s startup a project, was that wrong? My mother, believing Nora’s artistic talent was better suited for a prestigious foreign art school, sponsoring her studies abroad—was that wrong too? “…Hahahaha, yes, I was wrong…” My chest ached from laughing, my mouth filled with the taste of blood. “My whole life, I’ve been utterly, disastrously wrong…” Jace seemed startled by my hysteria. He stared at me coldly, grinding his teeth as he spoke: “Tell me, was this another one of your parents’ snobbish ideas? “Tell them to come speak to me themselves!” I closed my eyes, letting tears stream down my face. Remembering my parents’ bloody bodies after the car crash, only regret remained in my chest. Just then, there was a knock at the door. It was our next-door neighbors, Mr. and Mrs. Davies. They were close friends with my parents but had settled abroad. They had rushed back after hearing the news of my parents’ passing. Mrs. Davies’ eyes were red and swollen from crying. She trembled as she hugged me: “I’m so sorry, Liv. We’re too late…” Mr. Davies wiped his tears, choking out: “The Petersons never did a bad thing in their lives. How could they just be gone like that?!” The grief and regret in their voices seemed genuine. Seconds later, Jace’s incredulous voice rang out: “Who did you say passed away?” I looked at Jace with red eyes and a cold sneer. “You hate my parents so much, shouldn’t you be happy they’re gone?” Jace, however, opened his mouth, speechless for a moment. Mrs. Davies hadn’t recognized Jace. As if remembering something, she asked me, “You didn’t end up with that young man your family sponsored, did you? Oh, back when your factory was struggling and cash flow was tight, your dad specifically borrowed thirty thousand dollars from me to pay for that boy’s tuition. He said the boy was very talented and would surely achieve great things in the future…” CRASH! It was the sound of Jace bumping into furniture. His face was pale, as if he couldn’t believe it. But I just tugged at the corner of my mouth, telling Mrs. Davies, “Let’s not talk about that, Mrs. Davies. I’ll take you to see my parents.”

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My husband received a text message late one night. [They say you’re married. If you’re happy, don’t reply to this message.] My husband didn’t move. He only smiled after I’d finished reading it. “Learning to check up on me now, are we?” His open demeanor showed no hint of guilt. I calmly put the phone back down. Not a word was said. It wasn’t until past midnight that I saw him meticulously composing a reply to that number. [How have you been all these years?] 1 When Leo met my clear, wakeful gaze, there was a momentary flicker of guilt. “Why are you awake? Did I wake you?” My eyes fell on his screen, lit up once more. Suddenly, I felt weary. “No, go back to sleep.” Leo visibly relaxed, exhaling softly. He carefully lifted the covers, his breathing hushed. My face was turned the other way, but I could clearly see the light from his phone flickering on his side of the bed. We didn’t need to say it out loud. We both knew the owner of that number: Kitty Kingsley. She was finally… back. Everyone knew. Kitty Kingsley had pursued Leo for three years. Leo, usually so reserved, was gradually moved by her persistence. On her birthday, he promised to grant her one wish. Everyone silently knew what Kitty’s wish would be. But as fireworks erupted, Kitty was nowhere to be found. Until someone pushed open the private room door. She was entangled with Leo’s best friend. Seeing Leo, her eyes widened in terror. “How are you here?! Then who is he?! You shouldn’t have…” She pointed at the man on the sofa, belatedly trying to shield her body. Fate had played a cruel trick on them. Kitty’s spiked drink had gone to the wrong person. The wind was strong that day. She dressed, tears streaming down her face. “Leo… Can we still be together…?” Leo stared at her, his voice hoarse as he looked away. “It’s already past midnight. The wish… it doesn’t count anymore…” She left the country in tears. Even today. I glanced at the calendar. In three days, it would be her birthday again. Her birthday. Another chance for wishes. Before the storm, everything was calm, like any other day. Leo was adjusting his tie again, glancing at me as if by accident. “I’ll be going on a business trip in a few days.” My hand, brushing my hair, paused. I only asked, “A few days?” He didn’t look at me, just turned his face away. “Three days from now, to Seattle. Is there anything you like? I’ll bring it back for you.” What else could I want? I put down my comb, gently straightening his tie. “When you come back, I’ll tell you what gift I want.” Leo chuckled. “Another riddle? What if you don’t like what I bring back?” I never answered his question. I thought. No matter what he brought back, I wouldn’t be satisfied. I didn’t need to deliberately inquire to know Kitty Kingsley’s activities. Among our mutual friends, everyone was posting photos on social media of the souvenirs she’d brought back. Only Leo and I hadn’t received any. A friend said, “But she clearly said she had big gifts for everyone, especially Leo—” The friend stopped talking. The entire room fell silent. We all imagined what that ‘big gift’ might be. The friend awkwardly added, “Maybe it’s a private gift she gave him, not for public display, haha…” Someone coughed as a reminder. The friend immediately tried to backtrack, “I mean, a tangible gift, not something… intimate…” The friend clapped a hand over their mouth. I smiled, finished the remaining half-glass of wine. “Next time, I have other plans.” I didn’t walk far, still able to hear my friend’s frustrated voice. “Oh, my big mouth!” Leo and I should never have ended up together. His and Kitty’s convoluted fate was too dramatic. No one would willingly be a mere backdrop to such a story. Yet, unexpectedly, I met Leo during a blind date. I treated the meal like a casual gathering with an old friend. As I was leaving, he stopped me. “Should I go home and wait for your call?” I froze. He shrugged. “This isn’t just a formality for me. I’m serious. I’m very pleased with you, Lena.” I had only one month left until my thirtieth birthday. Leo appeared. Limited relationship history. Emotionally stable, no bad habits. Our social circles overlapped, and his assets easily surpassed mine by a digit. I had to admit. He was the pinnacle of the dating market. And so, Leo and I had our second meeting—at my home. He brought expensive gifts, even a sincere proposal. He skipped all the usual dating steps. Yet, no wedding custom was missed. And so we ended up together… I wasn’t without attempts to change this life. During one of Leo’s drunken nights, I asked him, “Are you content with a life like this, unchanging, forever?” Leo looked at me then, his eyes veiled with a smile. “Being rebellious, having unforgettable experiences—those are things for youth.” Leo fell asleep. In the soft hum of his slumber, I couldn’t help but wonder. Whose unforgettable experience… was he thinking of? Just like in many novels. At this stage, Kitty Kingsley was bound to come and provoke me, his legal partner. But she was smart. She added me on a dummy account. And in every single picture, Leo himself wasn’t visible. But I knew him too well. The silhouette reflected on the snow. The hands intertwined with Kitty’s. He had meticulously removed his wedding ring, leaving only the faint mark on his ring finger. I stared at the snowy landscape and laughed out loud. So it wasn’t Seattle. It was Aspen. When he returned, a familiar smile played on his lips. “Didn’t tell you beforehand, wanted to surprise you!” I didn’t reach for the beautifully wrapped gift box. Leo keenly sensed something was wrong, his brow furrowing slightly. “What’s wrong? Not happy?” I glanced at his gift box, speaking calmly. “That brand has a boutique here. No need to trouble yourself with a trip to Aspen.” Leo’s expression froze. He silently put down the gift bag. “I was careless. I forgot to tell you I rerouted from Seattle to Aspen. If you don’t like this gift, what do you like? Or should I have someone buy something from Seattle?” His eyes were downcast as he untied his tie. His wedding ring was still securely on his finger, as if he truly had just returned from a business trip. If only I hadn’t seen that small red mark on his neck. He came over and gently hugged me, his voice soft. “Wife, don’t be upset.” As if desperate to prove something, Leo was exceptionally attentive. I avoided his lips and, with a heavy heart, stated, “You have something on your neck.” Leo looked at me strangely. When he emerged from the bathroom, he stiffly explained, “Maybe I ate something bad while I was away. I’m allergic.” Meticulous as he was, when he consciously made a mistake, his lies were impeccable. I didn’t press further. Catching a thief red-handed. Ding— Both our phones chimed simultaneously. Kitty Kingsley’s group message. [I’m going abroad next week. Before I leave, let’s all have a farewell get-together!] At the end, it was the hotel location she had booked. Leo frowned slightly, looking at me. “We shouldn’t go…” He didn’t finish his sentence. Our gazes met. “Go.” He stared at me silently, finally defeated, a blend of helplessness and indulgence in his voice: “Alright, anything to make my wife happy.” After so many years, I finally saw her in person, after her encounter with my husband. At the door of the private room, she wore a qipao with a daring slit, her eyes curved into a smile as she linked her arm through mine. “Lena, so slow. I waited especially for you.” Our eyes met. We both understood the meaning of ‘waited especially.’ Leo suddenly grabbed my arm from behind. Kitty turned around. From my angle, I could almost see her eyes redden slightly. “Leo is so protective of his wife. Can’t even be apart for a moment.” Leo’s expression was natural. He simply put his arm around my shoulders. “Of course, my wife is more important than anything.” The other friends chuckled. Only Kitty, with downcast eyes, then looked up, released me, and gracefully spun around in front of me with a dazzling smile. “Lena, tell me if what I’m wearing today suits the local aesthetic.” I didn’t have time to speak. She then added, “Someone once told me that I would look especially good in a qipao.” I looked up, glanced at Leo. “Qipaos are beautiful. And Leo, for example, really likes women in them.” In the private room, all laughter ceased. Everyone’s gaze turned to us. Leo didn’t speak, taking a sip of his drink, then took my hand and placed it on the table. “Yes, I like my wife in them the most.” Someone tried to smooth things over, arranging the food and drinks. Kitty had clearly drunk a little too much; her smile was distinctly bitter. “Lena, if only I hadn’t made that mistake back then…” I didn’t drink the wine. Instead, I chuckled softly. “Old wine is sweet, and it’s a good thing you two made up for the love you missed out on back then.” Those closest to us widened their eyes. “Enough!” a sharp voice roared. My words were abruptly cut off. Leo’s hand, clasping his glass, trembled slightly, betraying his emotions. He let out a breath, his gaze shifting to Kitty. “Are you drunk, or what? What nonsense are you telling my wife?!” She gasped, her eyes immediately welling up, tears pattering onto the table. Others awkwardly offered tissues, urging Leo to show her some compassion. Across the crowd, I looked at Leo. “You’re scolding me, but you’re insulting your mistress to maintain peace. Doesn’t that hurt?” Their movements all stopped. I stood up, giving my most sincere smile. “After all, you just slept together in Aspen. To turn on her so quickly, Leo, how heartbroken must Kitty be? Stop the act. Go comfort her.” In the chaotic private room, Leo remained frozen. Kitty even forgot to cry, covering her mouth in a panic. “Leo, I didn’t say anything…” I smiled, not missing the fleeting triumph in Kitty’s eyes. “I never thought one man, Leo, could make you obsess for so many years. I didn’t send you anything for your birthday a few days ago. Today, consider this my belated gift.” Before everyone’s eyes, I pulled out the divorce papers I had long prepared. In the hushed room, I could clearly hear Kitty’s breathing quicken. As I opened the cover, my wrist was suddenly grabbed fiercely. Leo’s eyes were dark. “Lena, it’s not what you think.” Our friends discreetly cleared out, leaving just Leo and me. His Adam’s apple bobbed violently. After a long moment, he finally managed to say, “I… I did have contact with Kitty.” I looked at him, not replying. A few minutes later, his voice was strained: “But I never had any intention of abandoning our family.” I waited a long time but heard nothing further. Impatient, I grabbed my bag to leave. But he instantly blocked my way. “Lena! Let me explain! If it weren’t for me back then, Kitty’s first time… wouldn’t have been with someone else…” He spoke rapidly. I scoffed. “So you regret it, and now you finally have a chance to make amends?” He frowned. “You’re too extreme. I only took her to Aspen once… Even if you didn’t expose us, after she leaves, we wouldn’t contact each other anymore.” “So you think what you did was right? The only mistake was that I shouldn’t have exposed it?” Faced with my questions, Leo remained silent. Before I could pull away and leave, he suddenly said, “Before we got married, you weren’t unaware of what was going on between her and me…” The main door was pulled open. I stood still. Everyone hadn’t left. Kitty Kingsley was surrounded by friends, looking pitiful. “These years, I’ve had it so hard abroad. But if there were any other way, who would want to leave their home and country…” I walked closer to her. Kitty couldn’t keep up the act, her expression defensive as she backed away. “Lena, you…” My hand raised high. Before it could fall, she yelped and cowered. Behind me, I heard the rapid sound of leather shoes. I smiled, leaning close to Kitty. “Don’t worry, I won’t hit you.” Behind me, Leo approached. The slap that never reached Kitty landed squarely on his face. CRACK! Everyone gasped. Kitty’s eyes immediately reddened. “Leo—” My palm tingled slightly. I shook my arm. My gaze fell on Leo’s astonished eyes. “Hitting her is illegal. Hitting you isn’t.” The pent-up frustration in my chest finally dissipated a little with that slap. I left alone. The mess, I left for Leo to clean up.

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I walked at six months—a proud story my parents told—until a car crash at age one changed everything. A firefighter said my swaddled body shielded Mom from a steel rebar. Losing a leg felt worth it if it saved her. When Mom said sadly, “It’s my fault, Alice,” I’d hug her and smile. “I love you. It doesn’t hurt.” Back then, it was just us, warm and close. Then Lily was born. She hated the attention my leg drew. She’d break my toys and blame me. Slowly, Mom’s eyes grew cold. Once, Lily accused me of throwing her teddy in the pond. Mom grabbed a cane and whipped me. “Stop bullying Lily!” I tried to run but couldn’t. “Get that bear now, or don’t come home!” “Mom, please,” I begged, “Grandma said the water’s dangerous.” Holding Lily, she sneered, “If you can’t get it, just die there.” I closed my eyes, jumped into the icy river, and remembered too late: a cripple in water can truly drown. The frigid river water rushed into my lungs instantly, and my soaked cotton clothes became incredibly heavy. Through my blurry vision, I saw the teddy bear lying still at the bottom. A pang of fear struck me; my instinct was to swim back to shore, but Mom’s words, “You can’t come home without the bear,” echoed like a curse in my mind. I wanted to go home, to be with Mom. So, enduring the intense pain of my lungs being crushed, I stretched out with all my might and finally clutched the teddy bear from the riverbed. “Mom, look. I found the bear.” I struggled desperately to swim towards the bank, but the clinging weeds, like countless icy hands, wrapped tightly around my left leg. In a haze, I heard Mom’s voice, so near, yet so far away: “Alice, why are you standing by the river all alone? You could die if you fall in!” Then came Lily’s soft voice: “Mommy, I’m waiting for big sister to get my bear.” “That useless brat, she’s taken so long to get it back, who knows where she’s playing. Look at you, your hands are freezing cold.” “Come home with Mommy, Mommy will bake you oranges.” My heart clenched, and I struggled frantically towards the surface. Mom, don’t leave, I’m still here! Suddenly, my body felt lighter. I burst out of the water, scrambling onto the ice, only to see Mom’s retreating back. She held Lily, walking straight towards home. Lily hugged Mom’s neck affectionately: “Mommy, I saw fish blowing bubbles just now!” Mom smiled, stroking Lily’s cheek: “Does Lily like fish? How about Daddy and Mommy take you to the aquarium tomorrow?” I tried to take a few steps to follow, but my disabled left leg gave way, and I fell heavily onto the ground. Mom, wait for me, I found Lily’s bear. Can you, please, take me to the aquarium too? The teddy bear tumbled from my embrace. I reached for it, but it slipped through my fingers again and again, skittering across the ice. Tears welled up in my eyes; I was so frustrated. Why couldn’t I pick it up? If I couldn’t get the bear, Mom would be upset. Just then, a man in a tall black hat appeared before me. He bent down, picked up the teddy bear, and gently placed it in my arms. “Alice, come with me.” I looked at the man in black, confused: “Sir, do you know me? I can’t go with you, Mom will worry.” The man in black frowned: “You are dead. You need to be reincarnated now. I’ve found you a good family, and if we’re too slow, you’ll miss your chance.” I’m dead? A huge sigh of relief escaped me. Mom, did you hear that? I’m not that useless brat. It’s because I died, that’s why I couldn’t pick up the bear. I turned my head, searching for Mom’s retreating figure, but behind me, everything was a boundless expanse of white. Mom had already gone far away. I tugged on the black-clad man’s sleeve, whispering a plea: “Sir, can I wait one more day?” “I want to go to the aquarium with Mom one last time.” The man in black hesitated for a moment, then nodded, letting out a soft sigh: “Alright, I’ll give you one more day. I’ll come personally to pick you up tomorrow.” “Thank you, sir!” Clutching the teddy bear, I ran back home without looking back. Oh, joy, Mom. I can go to the aquarium with you now. When I was five, my classmates teased me because I couldn’t walk properly. I cried all the way home, and Dad and Mom took me to the aquarium. Dad carried me on his shoulders, pointing at the gracefully dancing mermaids behind the glass. “Look, Alice,” he said, “mermaids don’t have legs, do they? You’re the little mermaid gifted to Mom and me by the heavens.” “Your legs will turn into a beautiful tail one day, which is why you can’t walk properly for now.” I was so happy. Every day after that, I’d ask Mom when she could take me to the aquarium again. But after Lily was born, Mom always said it was inconvenient to take me out, and I never went to the aquarium again. I knew Mom wasn’t unwilling to take me out. She blamed me for my lame leg, that I was just a burden to them. I returned home to find Dad, Mom, and Lily sitting around the dinner table. On the table was my favorite sweet and sour pork ribs. “Mom, Dad, I’m home!” Dad picked up a rib for Lily, anxiously glancing outside: “Where did Alice run off to? It’s dinner time, and she’s still not back.” “She probably went off playing again. Even with her bad leg, she loves to run around so much.” Mom, I didn’t run wild. I went to get Lily’s bear back for her. Oh, I forgot. I’m dead. Mom can’t see me. Dad put down his chopsticks and looked at Mom, a hint of reproach in his voice: “Alice’s leg isn’t her fault, it’s ours. Why are you so hard on her?” Mom slammed her bowl onto the table, startling Lily into loud sobs. “My fault?! If you hadn’t been fooling around…” I desperately wanted to wipe away the tears welling in Mom’s eyes. But I forgot, I was dead, and there was nothing I could do. Dad comforted Lily, sighing: “Alright, alright! Is this something to be proud of? Let’s just eat.” Mom’s phone rang; it was Grandma! Lily sweetly said into the camera, “Happy New Year, Grandma!” Grandma smiled broadly: “Lily is such a good girl. Where’s your sister? Why isn’t she eating with you?” Mom picked up Lily and aimed the camera at her own face: “That brat, who knows where she’s been. When she gets back, I’m definitely going to give her a good talking to.” Grandma coughed twice, then sighed: “Since it’s the New Year, why don’t you send Alice to stay with me for a couple of days? You and David (Dad’s name) have a lot of pressure too.” I murmured to myself, Grandma’s house had my cousin who always played with me; I loved going to Grandma’s the most. “Alice is also the child you carried for ten months. You should talk to her gently…” Mom pursed her lips, interrupting Grandma: “She’s nothing but trouble, a curse. All these years, she’s inconvenienced me and her dad enough, and she’s dragged Lily down with her, getting her discriminated against and bullied.” I knew Mom was talking about the time I got into a fight at school. I opened my mouth to explain, but tears wouldn’t stop falling first, so I quickly covered my mouth with my hand. Mom said she didn’t like crying children. But Mom, it really wasn’t me who caused Lily to be bullied. Dad had said he had to work late and asked me to pick Lily up from school. But Lily’s classmates saw I was a cripple and surrounded us, spitting at me and Lily: “The lame sister is here to pick up the lame sister!” They laughed at me for being a cripple, and I didn’t get angry, but they couldn’t bully Lily. Mom said I was the older sister, I had to protect my sister. I charged forward, headbutting the strongest little chubby kid, then sat on him, hitting him left and right: “Don’t you dare bully my sister! My sister isn’t a cripple, apologize to her!” A group of them pushed me to the ground, and the chubby kid kicked me in the stomach, but I didn’t feel any pain at all. I pushed Lily away, turned my head, and shouted at her: “Lily, run!” Lily ran, and she called Mom. I held my head high, like a proud little peacock. I had protected my sister, Mom must be here to praise me. But what greeted me was Mom’s fierce slap. “I work myself to the bone to send you to school, and you come here to fight people!” “Do you have any respect for me and your father?” I turned my head away from the blow, wiping away my tears, full of injustice: “They were bullying Lily, that’s why I fought them.” The teacher came out then and pulled Mom away: “Alice’s Mom, when the school staff arrived, it was indeed Alice who was getting beaten.” Mom looked at me suspiciously, then Lily suddenly spoke up: “No, it wasn’t like that at all. Sister was the one who rushed up and started hitting first. They were just playing a game with me.” No, it wasn’t like that, not at all. I looked at Lily in disbelief, not understanding why she would say such a thing. Mom, after hearing Lily’s words, twisted my ear and took me home. All the way home, the scrutinizing gazes of the students felt more painful than any wound. When we got home, Mom snapped two canes asking me why I had lied. I lay on the floor, dizzy, clutching my stomach, but I couldn’t lie. I could only explain over and over again: “I fought to protect Lily.” From then on, to avoid Lily being implicated, Mom never let me go to school again. I didn’t blame Mom; it was my fault, this little cripple, for burdening her again. The news report on TV jolted me back to reality. “Breaking news: A female body has been recovered from the artificial lake in the city center. Preliminary identification indicates the age of approximately nine years old.” I pointed at the familiar shadow on the TV, my eyes instantly hot, and I yelled at Mom: “Mom! That’s me, I’m dead!”

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On the third year of my runaway bride escapade, Jack found me in the back kitchen of a small diner. My hands were chapped from the cold, raw from washing dishes. He frowned, his handsome brow furrowed. “Alice, make your choice. Come back with me and be Mrs. Blackwood, or keep slaving away here.” Without a word, I put down the dish I was holding and went home with him. From then on, I became the perfect fiancée in Jack Blackwood’s eyes. I no longer begged for his love. I no longer demanded his fidelity. Even when the young student he was keeping showed up at our doorstep, I didn’t cry or make a scene. Jack thought I had finally learned my lesson. But what he didn’t know was that I was an awakened NPC. Washing dishes for three years was just to accumulate points. Now that I had enough points, I could finally change my character settings. 1. “Alice has learned her lesson.” In the private dining room, Jack exhaled a smoke ring, proudly boasting to his friends. “No way, the once wild and proud Miss Spencer would actually be well-behaved? When she gets here, let’s see just how well-behaved she truly is, haha.” Jack said he was throwing a welcome dinner for me, insisting on my attendance. It turned out he just wanted to show off the results of his three years of “taming” me. I stood outside the door, listening to the malicious laughter from within, my fists clenched tight. But then, I replaced my expression with a gentle smile and pushed the door open. Sure enough, besides Jack’s cronies, the college girl he was keeping, Chloe, was also there. She was clinging to Jack like a little bird, feeding him sliced mango. Seeing me, her face instantly went pale, and she quickly stood up, looking scared. “Alice, you’re here. I didn’t mean to be here, I’ll leave right away.” Three years. Her acting skills had improved significantly. Three years ago, on the eve of my wedding, I discovered Jack’s relationship with Chloe and went to confront her. Before I could even say much, she fainted. Afterward, Jack came to me and said: “Alice, the position of Mrs. Blackwood will only ever be yours, but you also need to understand that I, Jack Blackwood, will never have just one woman in my life.” At that moment, my entire world crumbled. I couldn’t believe these words were coming from the man I had grown up with, my childhood sweetheart, the one who had promised to pluck the stars and moon for me and love me forever. I cried, I made a scene, even storming into the lavish apartment Jack had set up for Chloe and smashing everything. All I got in return was Jack’s disgust and gossip throughout the upper-class circles about how the Spencer heiress had turned into a shrew. Now, looking at Chloe’s innocent and harmless face, my smile grew even more gentle. So, it’s an act, is it? I can play that game too! Jack pulled her back to sit beside him, his face full of indulgence. “I called you here, you don’t need to leave.” He then turned to me. “You still have some capacity for generosity, don’t you, Alice?” I hid the disgust in my heart, walked over, poured a full glass of wine, and offered it to Chloe. “My dear, I used to have a terrible temper. I apologize for that now. Thank you for taking such good care of Jack these past three years. I’ll be relying on you in the future too.” With that, I downed the wine. A deathly silence fell. Chloe, instead, looked uncomfortable. Jack’s expression was unreadable; he asked in a low voice, “Alice, are you sincere?” I smiled radiantly, “Of course, Jack. Don’t worry, what you used to worry about will absolutely never happen again. I’ll get along well with her.” The room again fell silent, then Jack’s friends burst into raucous laughter. “Jack, tell us, what’s your secret to making our Miss Spencer so well-behaved?” “What’s there to teach? Alice loves Jack to death. She must have been frantic when Jack ignored her for three years, so she had to come back and grovel.” I lowered my head and smiled. I once believed I loved Jack to death too. Until I awakened. I learned that I was supposed to run after Jack on our wedding day, only to be hit by a car and die, forever becoming his cherished memory, his “white moonlight.” But I chose to run away from the wedding, and that’s when the System appeared. The System said that if I accumulated enough points, I could change my character settings. I diligently washed dishes for three years, finally earning enough points. I used all my points to wish for a life swap with Jack. The System agreed. It said that if I could smoothly transition to the wedding day, then I would become the richest person in Northwood City. Now, the wedding was three days away. I raised my glass, gently and generously, to everyone present. “I truly love Jack Blackwood, so you all simply must come to our wedding.” 2. “Hahaha, look at our Miss Spencer, so sensible for the wedding. Jack, why don’t you bring Chloe back to the bridal suite tonight?” “She’ll surely cooperate.” Chloe looked bashful, but her eyes, when they met mine, were full of provocation. “I don’t mind, but I wonder if Alice does.” Just then, the clock struck midnight, and the wedding countdown became two days. My “showing face” task from yesterday was complete. I picked up my bag and smiled at Jack. “Jack, you can take Chloe home. I’m a little tired, so I’ll be heading out.” I expected him to proudly boast to his friends, but instead, his face suddenly darkened, and he looked at me with a complicated expression. What surprised me even more was that he actually took Chloe back to the bridal suite. “There’s going to be a thunderstorm tonight, and Chloe is scared. I’m bringing her over to stay for the night.” Jack said this while watching my expression. If this were before, I would have lost my mind, screaming and smashing things. But now, I considerately and generously took Chloe’s hand. “Alright, dear. Which room do you prefer? Pick one yourself.” Jack’s eyes darkened, and he grabbed my hand, his voice laced with anger. “You really don’t mind?” I subtly pulled my hand away from his. “I just want to be your most understanding Mrs. Blackwood.” Jack gritted his teeth. “You better be.” Chloe bit her lip and whispered, “Alice, I like the master bedroom.” I immediately instructed the staff to clear out the master bedroom for Chloe. Then, I packed a couple of outfits, preparing to leave. Chloe was actually doing me a favor; staying in a hotel was far more comfortable than staying in the bridal suite. Just as I was about to leave, Jack grabbed me again. He finally lost his temper and said, “Alice, you’d even give up the bridal suite? You don’t have to pretend like this. You can cry, you can scream. I’ll take her away right now.” Seeing him so enraged, I was a little puzzled. Now, I had finally become the sensible, obedient, and generous Mrs. Blackwood he wanted. What more could he be dissatisfied with? I gave him a bright smile: “Don’t worry, Jack. No matter what you do, I won’t run away from the wedding this time.” Jack angrily flung my hand away: “Suit yourself. I’d like to see how long you can keep up the act.” The door slammed shut in front of me with a bang. I merely smiled, unaffected, and enjoyed a comfortable bath at the hotel. The exhaustion from three years of washing dishes slowly began to dissipate. Jack, however, sent me a message then: [Come back as soon as you’ve calmed down. I’ve already sent Chloe back. Don’t worry, I won’t let her threaten your position as Mrs. Blackwood.] Along with the message came a pink diamond necklace, which he had bought for hundreds of millions three years ago. At the time, I always thought it was Jack’s wedding gift to me. It wasn’t until I saw it around Chloe’s neck that I went insane, storming into the villa Jack had bought her and causing a huge scene. The result was a slap from Jack and rumors of the Spencer heiress turning into a shrew. Now, looking at the necklace, I merely smiled faintly, tossing it into the trash can without a second thought. I slept comfortably at the hotel and woke up to go to the bridal shop for my scheduled wedding dress fitting. This wedding dress was one I had personally designed for myself three years ago. At the time, I desperately wanted to be the most beautiful bride in the world, so I poured all my heart into it. Later, after I ran away from the wedding, the dress was ruined, but Jack had someone custom-make an identical one for me. Unexpectedly, the wedding dress was now being worn by Chloe. She stood there in the perfectly fitted gown, turning to smile at me. “Alice, do I look pretty?” The identical pink diamond necklace around her neck gleamed brilliantly, momentarily making me lose focus. Chloe, however, had already walked up to me, her expression contorted, her voice sharp. “You think pretending to be generous will make Jack fall back in love with you?” “Hilarious. To tell you the truth, the necklace he gave you is just a fake. Mine is the real one.” “Also, what’s the big deal if you ran away? He still stayed with me last night, and he was very… passionate with me.” I looked at her self-satisfied face, and just as I raised my hand, an angry shout came from behind me. “Alice, don’t you dare go crazy!” 3. Jack nervously pulled Chloe behind him, shielding her, and glared at me. “Just because of a wedding dress, are you going to start throwing a tantrum again?” Chloe looked wronged. “Jack, I might never get to wear a wedding dress in my life. I just wanted to secretly borrow a little of Alice’s happiness.” “Chloe, it’s not your fault.” They were playing the role of a loving couple. I walked forward and straightened the crooked necklace around Chloe’s neck. “Don’t be nervous. I just think your necklace goes perfectly with the wedding dress. I saw it was crooked and wanted to fix it for you.” Chloe froze. Jack’s face darkened. After a long moment, Chloe shrieked as she finally reacted. “Alice, I don’t know what you’re trying to do, but please don’t hurt me. I’ll give you back the wedding dress right now.” She fumbled nervously, trying to take off the dress while backing away, but she tripped and fell to the ground. With a rip, the wedding dress tore open at the bust, exposing a large expanse of Chloe’s cleavage. “Alice, I knew you were faking it all along. Is a necklace really worth all this? Do you really have to humiliate Chloe to be happy?” Jack rushed over and roughly pushed me away. He embraced Chloe and took off his jacket to cover her. Crash! The glass behind me shattered, and I, unable to dodge in time, fell onto the broken shards. Glass pierced my palms, and blood trickled onto the floor. I hissed in pain. Jack’s pupils constricted as he saw my bleeding hand, and a flicker of guilt crossed his face. He stood up, intending to help me, but Chloe conveniently collapsed into his arms. “Jack, my foot hurts so much, I think it’s broken! What should I do?” Jack hastily swept her into his arms. “Don’t worry, I won’t let anything happen to you.” The two of them hurried away. The shop assistant looked troubled. “Miss Spencer, the wedding dress is severely damaged. I’m afraid we won’t be able to repair it in two days.” I casually pointed to another dress nearby. “I’ll wear that one.” The assistant hesitated. “Miss Spencer, that dress is a few years out of style.” “It’s fine. Any one will do.” The wedding itself was no longer important, so what did the dress matter? Jack sent a message: [That necklace was just borrowed by Chloe for two days. I’ll get it back for the wedding.] I smiled and sent a “hug” emoji in return. He typed for a long time before finally sending: [Alice, you’ve really changed. Don’t worry, I’ll give you a wedding of the century.] Wedding countdown: one day. My parents found me, saying that my running away from the wedding had disgraced the Blackwood family, and that for the sake of our relationship and reputation, I needed to apologize to my future in-laws. I couldn’t help but let out a cold laugh. When I first discovered Jack’s affair, I went home and proposed breaking off the engagement. To my shock, my father slapped me hard. “Do you have any idea how many interests are tied to the alliance between our two families? You want to break off the engagement over such a trivial matter?” “Unless you’re dead, you will crawl to that wedding if you have to.” I was held captive at home and only found an opportunity to escape on the wedding day. They cut off all my cards, allowing Jack to oppress me in various ways for three years. If it weren’t for my awakening, I probably would have died out there long ago. This time, I didn’t resist and obediently followed them to the Blackwood family estate. Unexpectedly, Chloe was also there. When we arrived, she was sitting with my future mother-in-law, laughing and eating bird’s nest soup. 4. When Mrs. Blackwood saw me, her previously smiling face instantly darkened. “You have the nerve to show your face here? If it weren’t for our families being old friends and business partners, you wouldn’t even step foot in my house!” “Look at you, you don’t even compare to Chloe!” “I’m not afraid to tell you, Chloe is pregnant. This is my Blackwood family’s first grandchild!” She was still rattling on when Jack, coming downstairs, stopped her. Jack looked at me with a completely justified expression. “I only found out about it yesterday when I took Chloe to the hospital.” “Don’t worry, this changes nothing. The child will be registered under your name when it’s born. You will be Mrs. Blackwood no matter what.” A flicker of resentment crossed Chloe’s face, but she quickly put on a smile, stood up, and affectionately took my hand. “Alice, don’t worry, I just want to be by Jack’s side. I won’t compete with you for anything.” She pretended to embrace me, but whispered in my ear, her voice chilling: “For tomorrow’s wedding, I’ve prepared a grand gift. You’d better be ready for it.” Oh, I raised an eyebrow, then I’m utterly looking forward to it. Jack, seeing our harmonious relationship, was deeply moved. He came over and took my other hand. “Alice, I can forgive you once, but not twice. Tomorrow, you absolutely cannot run away from the wedding again.” “Why would I?” I deftly pulled Chloe back to Mrs. Blackwood’s side, considerately telling her. “Sit down and rest quickly. You need to be careful with your body when you’re pregnant.” My parents were dumbfounded. Mrs. Blackwood wore a constipated expression, staring at me in disbelief. I then smiled at everyone and said, “Don’t worry, I will definitely be at the wedding tomorrow.” Jack observed my expression, his eyes filled with deep affection. “Alice, I know this situation has caused you distress. Don’t worry, I will treat you well after we’re married.” I looked back at him, my smile deepening. On the wedding day, Jack fulfilled his promise, making the spectacle even grander than three years ago. He invited hundreds of media outlets and live-streamed the entire event, declaring that he would make me the most beautiful bride. I stood in my outdated wedding dress amidst the incredibly lavish setting, ignoring the mocking glances of the guests. As the wedding progressed to the ring exchange, Jack’s phone rang abruptly. Chloe’s voice came through. “Jack, I thought about it, and I’ve decided to leave with the child. Don’t worry, I’ll raise him well. I wish you a happy marriage.” Clatter. Jack’s phone dropped onto the red carpet, and he turned to leave. I called out loudly, “Jack, are you running away from the wedding?” His face went ashen as he looked at me. “Alice, you’re the most understanding. I have to go after Chloe. Don’t worry, I’ll make it up to you with another wedding.” He left without looking back. Amidst the guests’ whispers, I received a system notification: [Wedding critical node triggered, character change complete.] At the same time, there was a boom outside. Guests cried out in panic: “Oh no, someone’s been in a car accident outside!”

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I was rear-ended. The girl who hit me was a mess of frantic apologies, begging to handle it privately. When I refused, she made a call for help. Half an hour later, my husband, Sebastian, arrived at the scene. The girl was wracked with guilt, but Sebastian, my always-composed husband, was the one offering her gentle words of comfort. That’s when I realized I knew her. From the photograph he kept on his desk. The woman he fought his entire family for, long before he married me. The one that got away. 1 I was thrown against the steering wheel by the sudden impact. The world swam for a second, and then clarity hit. I’d been rear-ended. I leaned my head back, my heart hammering against my ribs. A few deep breaths later, just as my pulse began to settle, a frantic knocking shattered the quiet of the car. It was sharp and insistent, a desperate rhythm that made my temples throb. The discomfort peaked, and I rolled down the window. A young woman was bent over, peering in. She froze for a second, then her words tumbled out in a rush. “I’m so sorry! Are you okay?” She was young, slender, dressed in a light-blue denim dress. Her skin was pale, her eyes enormous and wide with a kind of dewy, innocent confusion. For some reason, I felt a flicker of recognition, a strange sense of familiarity, even though I was sure I’d never seen her before. I hit the hazard lights and unbuckled my seatbelt, my voice heavy with fatigue. “Let’s just follow procedure.” She just stood there, silent. I glanced over at her, my brow furrowing. “Could we… could we possibly handle this privately?” she asked, her voice small and pleading. “I know it’s a lot to ask,” she said, biting her lip. “I just bought this car, and my mom… she’s really sick—” “Ma’am,” I cut her off. “First things first. Can you please put out the warning triangle?” Her eyes widened, shimmering with unshed tears. “It’s rush hour. It’s dangerous not to have it out,” I said, my patience wearing thin. “Don’t you even know the basics?” 2 “I’m so sorry!” She ducked her head, the picture of shame, and apologized again. “I’ll go put it out right now.” A dull ache radiated from my lower back. I waited a moment before getting out of the car. The damage wasn’t catastrophic, but a long, ugly scrape marred most of the rear bumper. The girl’s car was a standard white sedan. A sticker on the back window read, “New Driver. Please Be Patient.” I gave it a passing glance. After setting up the triangle, she hurried back over. She saw me taking pictures with my phone and hesitated, looking like she wanted to say something but couldn’t find the words. “Hi, this is all my fault,” she finally managed. “But… could we please not call the police? Can we just settle this between ourselves?” “My back hurts, and this was a serious collision,” I said, looking straight at her. “If we handle this privately, how will you compensate me? More importantly, how will my interests be protected?” “I… I can pay for the car repairs first,” she stammered. “Or I can take you to the hospital right now.” “This is a Panamera. I just picked it up two days ago.” The color drained from her face. She stared at me, speechless. I sighed. “Just call your insurance company.” She looked down, her fingers tracing nervous patterns on her phone screen. “I… I haven’t gotten insurance for it yet,” she whispered. My voice was cold. “And how is that my problem?” She blinked rapidly, her eyes slowly turning red. I didn’t say another word. She was at fault, yet she didn’t have a clue how to handle the most basic steps of a post-accident procedure. It was all on me. After calling the police and my insurance agent, a wave of exhaustion washed over me. I got back into my car to wait. I sent a quick text to Sebastian, just to let him know I’d be late getting back to The Summit tonight. We were both busy, but we’d planned to have dinner together. I didn’t mention the accident; he was swamped with a new project, and I didn’t want to worry him. After locking my phone, I glanced in the rearview mirror. The girl was on her phone now, her posture a mixture of distress and dependence. I guessed she was talking to her boyfriend. 3 The police and the insurance adjuster arrived quickly, followed shortly by my assistant. The girl, after her phone call, had done nothing but wait. Now, surrounded by a small crowd, she looked terribly alone, a strangely pitiful figure. My assistant checked on me first, and after confirming I was alright, went to handle the negotiations. I leaned my head back against the seat, closing my eyes. A moment later, I glanced up, and my body went rigid. In the rearview mirror, I saw Sebastian’s secretary, Peterson, talking to a police officer. What was Peterson doing here? In the next second, the girl’s face lit up. She took a few eager steps forward, then stopped abruptly. Her dress swayed as she bit her lip, a shy tremor of emotion, and mouthed a name. It was strange. In that one frozen moment, I could read her lips perfectly. She said, Mr. Blackwood. A tall man in a black trench coat stepped into the frame of my mirror. He was lean and powerful, with broad shoulders and a narrow waist. I threw the car door open. The girl’s head was bowed in a mix of shame and guilt. “I’m so sorry,” she was saying, her voice thick with emotion. “I only called you because I had no one else to turn to.” “I just bought the car, my mom is so sick, and I never even got around to buying insurance.” Her voice broke on a sob. “The other car… it’s a luxury car. I don’t even know what kind. She’s demanding—” She choked on her words, unable to continue. Sebastian hadn’t seen me. His eyes seemed fixed on the girl in front of him. His expression was as stoic as ever, but there was a softness in it, a gentleness I had never seen before. “It’s okay,” he said, his usually cool voice laced with reassurance. “Peterson will take care of it.” 4 The girl was crying softly now. Sebastian seemed to let out a sigh before offering her a handkerchief. It was a pale green silk square. I’d bought it for him in Paris a month ago. Last week, we were kissing in the car, and he had used that same handkerchief to wipe away my smudged lipstick. He had pulled me onto his lap, and when I’d asked for it back as I was getting out, he leaned away, a faint smile playing on his lips as he tucked it into his breast pocket. I pretended to be annoyed, and he leaned in to kiss the tip of my nose, murmuring, “What, can’t even spare a single handkerchief for me?” I thought he treasured it. A buzzing started in my ears. How ironic, I thought. He was more than willing to spare it now. Just as the girl took the handkerchief, Peterson turned and saw me. “Mrs. Blackwood?!” Sebastian’s head snapped in my direction. Our eyes met. The setting sun cast his sharp features in shadow, and his eyes were wide with undisguised shock. I looked down at my phone. No new messages. He hadn’t replied to my text. But he had come here, in person, to stand on the opposite side of this conflict, negotiating compensation for the person who had crashed into me. It made my attempt to shield him from worry seem utterly ridiculous. A sharp, stabbing pain shot through my head, a dizzying whiteout. In my peripheral vision, I saw the girl smile. It was a triumphant smile. Not hesitant, not pitiful anymore. It was calm, knowing, as if she had expected this all along. And suddenly, I understood why she had looked so familiar. I knew her. From a photo Sebastian kept on his desk in his study. Before he married me, Sebastian had fought his entire family, ready to give up everything. She was the one that got away, the woman he swore he would marry. My husband’s old flame, Lily. 5 A delicate, charged silence fell over the scene. Peterson glanced at me, then at Lily, his face a mask of professional anxiety. He had been with Sebastian for years; he knew all the stories of his reckless youth. After a long moment, Sebastian shrugged off his trench coat and walked towards me. The familiar scent of sandalwood enveloped me as he draped the coat over my shoulders. “Why didn’t you text me?” he asked, his voice even, as he tucked a stray strand of hair behind my ear. “Are you hurt anywhere?” “I did,” I said, meeting his gaze. “You didn’t reply.” Before he could answer, a police officer approached Lily. “Ma’am, you’ll need to upload the liability statement.” Lily’s eyes darted to Sebastian, then quickly away, a flicker of fear in her expression. “Of course,” she said meekly. I knew Sebastian too well. The moment the words left Lily’s lips, I started counting in my head. One… two… On the third second, Sebastian spoke. “Peterson, you handle it.” Peterson wouldn’t look at me as he turned to follow the officer. I let out a small, bitter laugh. Just as I expected. Sebastian took my hand, giving it a gentle squeeze, the same placating gesture he always used when I was upset. “Mr. Blackwood,” Lily broke the awkward silence. “Do you two… know each other?” I laughed again, a hollow sound, and looked at Sebastian, already knowing what was coming. His handsome features tightened, his jaw clenching. He gave a single, sharp nod. “She’s my wife.” The subtle shift in his expression was like a needle to my heart. For the first time, I hated how well I understood him. Because I knew, in that instant, that he wasn’t declaring our unity to Lily. He wasn’t defending me. He was using the title of ‘wife’ as a weapon against her, a bitter, resentful way of proving: I’ve moved on. After all, everyone knew that after a year of fighting for her, it was Lily who had finally given up and broken up with him. 6 This gift for sensing the emotional undercurrents of a room could be a curse. Right now, Lily’s feigned surprise and Sebastian’s thin veneer of calm felt like a suffocating performance. The anger and humiliation drained out of me, replaced by the cold realization that in this three-person drama, I was the one left on the outside. Sebastian and I were the married ones, but it didn’t matter. I felt like a damp cloth, wrung out and discarded. A strange, twisted ache settled in my chest. Lily tucked her hair behind her ear, looking down as if to hide a wave of disappointment. “You two make a beautiful couple,” she murmured. I stared at her, my face a blank mask. After three seconds, I pulled my hand from Sebastian’s and turned away. I was back in my car for less than a minute when the passenger door opened. I grabbed the trench coat from my shoulders and threw it at him. Sebastian caught it, as if he’d been expecting it. He leaned in, his solid frame filling the space, and pulled me into his arms. I struggled, but he held me fast, his strength overwhelming mine. “I’m sorry,” he murmured, his hand cupping the back of my head as he pressed a soft kiss to my forehead. “I’m late.” “Get out,” I hissed, turning my face away. “You make me sick.” “I was trying to get back at her when I told her you were my wife.” My struggles ceased. That was Sebastian—always brutally honest about his feelings, so honest it could set your teeth on edge. He cradled my face in his hands, his head dipping low until our noses touched, our breath mingling in the small space. “I lost control,” he said softly. “It was wrong of me to embarrass you like that.” “I shouldn’t have used that tone when I introduced you. She was at fault, and I shouldn’t have stepped in to solve her problem without knowing the facts, effectively putting myself in opposition to you.” His light brown eyes reflected only me. His thumb caressed my cheek. “This is the one and only time. I promise.” He knows, a voice screamed in my head. He knows exactly what he’s doing. I had known Sebastian for too long. He never hid anything from me, including what I saw in his eyes right now. He was admitting it. He still hadn’t completely moved on from Lily. I closed my eyes, a familiar sense of helplessness washing over me like a cold tide. 7 My assistant drove the car to the hospital, where I had a full check-up. The results showed nothing serious. Sebastian spoke with the doctor at length, carefully noting down all the instructions. In these matters, he was always impeccable. He drove on the way back, his other hand firmly laced with mine. The mountain road twisted and turned, offering sweeping views of the glittering harbor and the city skyline below. For some reason, my mind drifted back. It had been ten years since I first met Sebastian at The Summit, when I was just seventeen. A decade, gone in a flash. The Sebastian of ten years ago was impossibly arrogant, a young man for whom life was an effortless conquest. A privileged background was one thing, but he had the rare luxury of both freedom and love. He was a golden boy who did whatever he wanted. I couldn’t say if I was jealous of him. Our families were of similar standing, our ages close, and for years, my name was always mentioned in the same breath as his, a constant comparison. But I was never as lucky as he was. That summer at The Summit, he stood on the second-floor balcony, hair still tousled from sleep, and looked down at me. “So you’re Julia?” Later, I went upstairs, and we played a couple of video games. And after that, to escape our mutually resentful parents, I became a regular visitor at The Summit. Sebastian and I were two sides of the same coin. Lying side-by-side in the attic one day, he suddenly said, “It feels like you’re another version of me.” I flipped the book of poetry I was reading onto his face. “To receive such high praise from the great Sebastian Blackwood, I am truly humbled.” He turned his head just as I shifted onto my side. The book slid off, and the tip of my nose brushed his cheek. My lips parted slightly. We fell silent, the air between us thick with the ambiguous dance of our breathing. That kiss never happened. As he closed his eyes and leaned towards me, I snatched the book from the floor. I can still remember it now. It was a collection of poems by John Keats.

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My contract husband’s spiritual entity is a snow leopard. Whenever it gets close, it trembles and lets out a low growl. It also headbutts me. I thought it didn’t like me, so I gently suggested to Marcus that he keep it contained. But then I saw the live comments flickering in my vision: 「This leopard is trying to meow but sounds like it’s hacking up a year-old furball.」 「Sentinel: Honey, I love you! Honey: Why is this leopard headbutting me?」 「The wife has no spiritual entity, so she doesn’t know that Marcus is this shameless snow leopard.」 At the same time, I heard Marcus’s voice in my head: 「Just slap it. That’ll do the trick.」 A slap? I thought. Isn’t that more of a reward for you? 1 Marcus has gray-blue eyes. Exactly like the snow leopard currently rubbing against my calf. The only difference was the deep, purring rumble vibrating in the creature’s throat. Its round, shimmering blue eyes never left my face. I still couldn’t quite connect this massive cat with the man standing across the room. After I heard his mental suggestion, the comment feed exploded: 「When your wife slaps you, the first thing you notice is her scent.」 「What a way to reward himself. Marcus is a true connoisseur.」 「Aren’t Sentinels supposed to be impulsive hotheads? What’s this guy playing at?」 「Does anyone else see how cute Mochi is when he looks up like that?! I think Audrey is about to melt.」 「Wait, you’re telling me Marcus, the Chief Sentinel’s, spiritual entity is named Mochi?」 2 Marcus and I got married a month ago. The moment we signed the papers, he was called away on an urgent mission. After a rushed apology, he was gone, only returning today. My supervisor gave me the day off, considering a Guide’s primary duty is to provide spiritual soothing for their Sentinel. But the second I walked in the door, I was blocked by the snow leopard, leaving me no chance to get reacquainted with my new husband. Seeing me frozen in place, Marcus took a step closer. “Don’t be afraid. He’s just a little excited. He won’t hurt you.” I could smell the faint, clean scent of steam from his recent shower. I’d never been this close to a Sentinel before. I was a little nervous. I reached out and absently stroked the snow leopard’s ear. “What’s his name?” The next second, Marcus swayed on his feet. My hand met empty air. The snow leopard had vanished. I was about to say that I wasn’t scared of him anymore, that he didn’t need to put him away, when I saw Marcus’s jaw tighten. He spoke, his voice serious. “He needs to rest.” “Oh,” I said softly. I remembered then that he’d been on a mission for weeks. I discreetly started to back out of the bedroom. “Then I won’t disturb—” As I passed him, I noticed the tips of his ears were bright red. The comments mercilessly exposed him: 「Sentinels have heightened senses. Just a light touch on the ear from his wife and the whole leopard is about to roll over in ecstasy.」 「Little Marcus is on the verge of popping up to say hello to the wife.」 「Marcus, are you even a Sentinel? You compressed a three-month mission into one, worked nonstop to get back, and this is what you’re giving us?」 I paused. “Do you… need me to perform a soothing?” I asked, hesitating. “The people at the Citadel taught me the basics.” The words were barely out of my mouth before I regretted them. He was the Chief Sentinel. I was a deficient Guide with no spiritual entity and only a sliver of psychic energy. What good could I possibly do? I was so out of my league. Just as I was about to turn and flee in shame, a thick, furry tail curled around my calf. The snow leopard pushed me, and I tumbled onto the bed. Marcus immediately lay down on the other side. “My mindscape is dangerous. Just being near me is enough.” I didn’t understand what he meant at first. Not until a big, furry paw gently covered my eyes. We were just… sleeping. Wrapped in blankets. A stranger of a husband on one side, a giant, rumbling cat on the other. I thought it would be an impossible night. But when I opened my eyes again, it was morning. The room was empty. I assumed he’d been called away on another mission. Not thinking much of it, I got up and headed for the bathroom. Halfway there, I heard the sound of running water. Marcus hadn’t left? The next second, the comments flooded my vision: 「Never thought the wife would be such a wild sleeper. Like an octopus. Marcus held back all night, he’s about to explode.」 「It’s been over two hours. Is this the stamina of the Chief Sentinel?」 「A moment of silence for the wife’s future.」 I was still groggy and didn’t process it right away. Not until I heard a ragged gasp, barely audible over the shower, and then a broken whisper. He was saying my name. My face flushed hot. I turned to go to the downstairs bathroom, but the comments kept scrolling furiously: 「Marcus’s pocket is bulging. What did he stuff in there?」 「What could possibly be in the wife’s bathroom?」 「I think I know.」 「Me too. No wonder it’s been two hours.」 「Stop being so cryptic, AAAAAH!」 The moment I stepped into the bathroom, the words vanished. I dawdled inside for a long time, until I got a message from Marcus saying he’d left. Only then did I creep out. He was gone. I went back into the bathroom and looked around. My entire face felt like it was on fire. A few days ago, a friend had sent me a silk slip dress as a gift. I’d complained that the design was way too daring, but the fabric felt incredible. Since Marcus was away, I figured no one would see me if I wore it to bed. The only problem was that it wrinkled easily, so I had a habit of hanging it up in the bathroom after taking it off. But now, it was gone. 3 With Marcus’s whereabouts unknown, I had nothing to do at home, so I cancelled my leave and went back to the office. As it happened, a new Guide intern had just started and had no one to mentor him, so I sat next to him to help out. Suddenly, I felt a weight on my lap. It was a chubby orange tabby. The intern’s face went crimson. “I’m so sorry! I just awakened, I can’t control him very well yet!” I couldn’t resist stroking the cat’s head. “It’s okay. He’s adorable.” We were both Guides, after all. It was the perfect excuse to get my hands on a cat. The tabby was soft and pliant, a world away from the dense, heavy presence of the snow leopard. I lost myself in the simple joy of petting him. Even after the intern left for a meeting, I stayed at my desk, playing with the cat’s paws. I never expected Marcus to show up at my office. He lifted the chubby cat out of my arms by the scruff of its neck. “Can spiritual entities get pregnant?” His words were a mortal wound to the cat’s pride. It let out an indignant meow and vanished on the spot. The moment I got in the car, I was tackled by the snow leopard. It licked my face with wild abandon, the rough tongue tickling me until tears streamed from my eyes. I could only plead with Marcus for help with my eyes. He reached over and peeled Mochi off me, pulling me up. But a second later, we were both knocked over. Thankfully, the car was on auto-pilot. Sandwiched between the snow leopard and Marcus, I struggled for breath. The comments flew across my vision: 「The leopard smelled a strange cat on his wife and is now marking his territory.」 「Can someone please explain to me how the Chief Sentinel can be knocked over by his own spiritual entity?」 「Fun fact: on the battlefield, this leopard can shatter an enemy’s skull with a single swipe.」 「Let’s not talk about that.」 … As Marcus helped me up, I couldn’t stop my mind from racing as I stared at his face. Six months ago, agents from the Citadel had found me in a small border town. According to federal law, all Guides discovered in the wild must be brought under the Citadel’s control. I grew up in an orphanage, with no family, and certainly no spiritual entity. I never knew I was a Guide. I only knew that entering the Citadel meant one thing: waiting for the system to match you with a Sentinel. But on the way to the Citadel, our convoy was attacked. Marcus and his soldiers drove off the Wanderers. He told me our families were old friends. It was only then that I learned my parents had been high-level researchers for the state. They were killed in a targeted attack on scientists when I was six. I was lost in the chaos. At the Citadel, I attended classes with the others. Marcus visited occasionally. I heard from others that he was heavily criticized for not having a Guide. Many worried he would lose control without spiritual soothing. Meanwhile, I was facing my own mandatory matching. When I proposed a partnership, Marcus had a strange look on his face. He said he could help me apply for a deferment. “…Marriage is a serious matter, especially for a Guide.” I shook my head. “It’s going to be a forced match sooner or later anyway.” Besides, I really didn’t want to stay in the Citadel, learning flower arranging all day.

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The call came in the dead of night. My patron, asking me to deliver a box of ultra-thins. Staring at my rain-soaked clothes, the man’s voice was a low rasp. “Fuck,” he said. “Who told you to be so damn good?” I held the bag out to Pierce Knight, who was leaning against the doorframe. “The 0.01s you asked for.” When he took it, he deliberately brushed his calloused thumb over my knuckles, a predatory smile in his eyes. “She’s not here yet. Why don’t we break them in?” I froze for a second before he let out a low chuckle. “I’m kidding.” “I’ve set up a blind date for you next Wednesday. You’ve been with me for years, and I don’t want you to get the short end of the stick.” “You’ll go, won’t you?” 1 His tone was a question, but his eyes held a lazy, non-negotiable weight. This wasn’t about him not wanting me to get the short end of the stick. This was about his old flame coming back to the country. He wanted me gone, neatly disposed of, before she found out we ever existed. My fingers, already curled against my palm, tightened into a fist. I forced myself to look up, my voice carefully steady. “Just send me the address.” He caught the shift, the formal chill in my tone. His brow twitched, just for a second. Rainwater dripped from the ends of my hair onto my collarbone, and I shivered from the cold. “It’s late,” I stammered. “I should get going.” “Wait.” Pierce disappeared into the living room and returned with a Burberry shawl. He wrapped it snugly around me, leaving only my eyes, still damp with rain, visible. Flustered, I looked up to thank him and was caught in the sudden intensity of his gaze. His fingers were still resting on the collar of the shawl. His throat bobbed. “Don’t go tonight,” he said suddenly. I blinked, my response automatic. “But… isn’t someone else coming?” He cut me off before I could finish, his knuckles pressing against the top of my head, a raw, impatient edge to his voice. “You actually fucking believed that?” “In your mind, am I just some degenerate who sleeps around?” “In all these years, who’s been by my side but you?” Later, tangled in the sheets, as I was lost in a haze of pleasure, he leaned in and whispered in my ear. “This is the last time for us.” “Claire is coming back.” “I don’t want her to suspect anything, so be a good girl and go on that date.” The truth, finally. I sank my teeth into his shoulder, a silent scream of fury. 2 Pierce’s stamina was nothing short of superhuman. The saying that a man is over the hill after twenty-five was a complete lie when it came to him. The morning mist peeking through the curtains had turned a pale white before he finally ended his campaign and headed for the shower. As the water started running, I gathered my clothes from the floor and slipped into the guest bedroom. It was our unspoken rule. Pierce was a light sleeper and hated having anyone in his bed. So for five years, no matter how exhausted he left me, I would always use my last ounce of strength to drag myself to the guest room. The next day, I woke up well after nine. As I rushed downstairs after getting ready, I ran right into Pierce, fresh from his workout. He was wearing a white tank top that clung to the powerful, sleek lines of his shoulders and back. “I had Mrs. Gable save you some breakfast.” I waved my hands frantically. “I’m going to be late for work. I have to catch the subway.” Pierce raised an eyebrow. “I can just drive you, can’t I?” I was at the door, pulling on my shoes, the word tumbling out before I could stop it. “No.” “The results of my promotion are coming out today. If my colleagues see me getting out of the boss’s car, I’ll never be able to explain it.” Pierce’s hand, which had been twisting the cap off a water bottle, stilled. The air went silent for a beat. Then, he let out a short, dismissive laugh. “Suit yourself.” Just as I was leaving, he called my name and handed me a business card. “Your blind date for next week.” A buzzing filled my ears, yanking me back to reality. One night of passion, and I had almost forgotten. The whole reason I had agreed to bring him the damn condoms was to finally end our five-year-long, sordid affair. Afraid he’d think I was going to cling to him, I took the card. The sharp plastic corner dug into the soft flesh of my palm. My nose stung. “I’ll go,” I mumbled, my voice low. 3 For years, I had spent every weekend at Pierce’s house. At first, I used to lug huge bags filled with changes of clothes and countless bottles of skincare products. He found it a hassle and eventually had a vanity built for me, just to store my things. This time, as I left, I packed it all up. Everything. Including the pink slippers I always wore, and the silk nightgown in the closet. As I did this, Pierce just leaned against the doorframe and watched me, his expression unreadable, a murky swirl of emotions in his eyes. Not until I had cleared everything out and said my goodbyes did he speak. “From now on, we’re just colleagues.” He saw through my anxiety and let out a short, derisive laugh. “Relax. I’m not going to sabotage your career.” 4 I ran all the way to the office, barely making it to my desk before ten. My colleague, Becca, treated me to a rare coffee. “Stella, congratulations in advance! When you’re the department director, don’t forget your old comrades.” I smiled shyly. “The results aren’t out yet.” She scoffed. “Don’t be so modest. Of all the candidates, you’ve been here the longest and have the most successful projects under your belt.” “Besides, everyone’s seen how you’ve bled for this company over the years.” “You becoming director is what everyone wants.” I dropped the pretense and smiled at the rest of the team. “If I get it, I’m treating everyone to the most expensive sushi in the city!” Cheers erupted in the office. With three minutes to go, I refreshed my email countless times. I was so nervous I ran to the bathroom three times. Finally, I clicked open the new email. A line of bold, black text leaped out. 「We regret to inform you that your application for promotion has been unsuccessful…」 My mind went completely blank. My team members crowded around, and as they saw the result on my screen, the cheerful office fell deathly silent. The silence was broken by the Head of HR, who walked in with a smile, a woman trailing behind her. “Everyone, I’d like to introduce you to Claire. She has a master’s from abroad and has been personally appointed by Mr. Knight as the new Director of the Creative Department.” I looked up, and my breath caught in my throat. The woman was dressed in a sharp, tailored white suit, her long hair loosely tied back, revealing a slender, pale neck. She was the spitting image of the girl in the photo I had once seen tucked away in Pierce’s wallet. 5 It felt like coming down with a severe flu. My head was stuffed, my mind a complete blank. I was moving on autopilot, a heavy force pushing me forward. The walk to Pierce’s office wasn’t long, but I had to keep wiping away tears with the back of my hand. People were staring, but I was past caring about the embarrassment. I knocked. Pierce’s usual cool voice came from within. “Come in.” I stood there, my eyes red. The moment I spoke, the tears started falling again. “Why?” He didn’t even look up, his finger still tracing a line on a document. “Why what?” My voice rose, thick with an uncontrollable sense of betrayal. “There are so many other positions in the company. Why did you have to give Claire the one I was supposed to be promoted to?” Only then did Pierce look up from his papers, his tone as flat as if he were discussing the weather. “She wanted to be in the Creative Department.” “Just because she wanted to, you can just throw away five years of my hard work?” He knew. He knew that to get this promotion, I had taken the overseas assignment in Africa that no one else wanted. He knew I had caught malaria there and almost didn’t make it back. Pierce stood up and walked over to me, looking down at me from his towering height, his eyes cold and empty of any warmth. “Stella, this is reality.” “Because I’m in this position, I get to decide everything.” My voice trembled. “All I wanted was a fair chance. Is that so hard?” He let out a low laugh, as if I’d said something hilarious. “Fair?” “You want to talk to me about fairness?” “Stella, get one thing straight,” he said, leaning in, his breath a cold whisper against my face. “If you hadn’t slept with me…” “With your degree from a second-rate state school, you wouldn’t have even made it past the initial resume screening at this company.” “Why don’t you go ask all those Ivy League graduates who interviewed with you back then if they think that was fair?” “You didn’t seem to mind the perks of power then, so don’t come crying to me about fairness now.” His words were like a series of sharp slaps across my face, leaving my cheeks burning, my every breath a painful sting. And in that moment, I understood. Even though I had worked my ass off for five years, trying to prove myself, never once thinking of using my relationship with him to get ahead… I couldn’t change the fact that I had only gotten my foot in the door because of him. I had no right to talk about fairness. So, I decided to quit.

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When my parents hung up for the ninety-ninth time, I walked into the Registry Office, clutching my cancer diagnosis report. “Hello, I’d like to proactively cancel my registration.” Ten minutes later, my parents rushed in with my adopted sister. My father, a police officer, stormed in and slapped me. “Wasting police resources just to bicker with your sister? What good did all that schooling do you?!” My mother, a forensic pathologist, snatched the diagnosis report from my hand. She glanced at it, then sneered, “Faking medical records to get attention, pretending to be sick. You’ve been a liar since you were a child!” My adopted sister cried, tugging at my parents’ hands. “I’m sorry, Aria, I’ll never celebrate my birthday again. Please, stop lying to Mom and Dad!” I wiped away the unstoppable nosebleed and once again faced the Registry staff member. “I no longer have a family. To avoid delaying the cremation in three days, please help me process the cancellation.” … It was the third month after my late-stage stomach cancer diagnosis, and the doctor strongly urged me to be hospitalized. But I had no money, so I had to ask Mom and Dad for help. When Mom and Dad hung up on me for the ninety-ninth time, I walked into the Registry Office, clutching my cancer diagnosis report. “Hello, I’d like to proactively cancel my registration.” The staff member looked at me with a sympathetic expression and asked, “Young lady, don’t you have any family?” No sooner had she spoken. Mom and Dad rushed over with my adopted sister. Dad, without a word, slapped me, then pointed at my nose, seething with anger. “Wasting police resources just to bicker with your sister! What good did all that schooling do you?!” I was stunned by the blow. It took me a while to remember that today was Bella’s birthday party. Dad had specifically taken two days off to be with her. And I, his biological daughter with late-stage cancer, had merely called to ask for a little money for medical expenses. And was accused of wasting police resources. Tears quickly welled up in my eyes. I covered my swollen, aching cheek and tried to explain, “Dad, I didn’t…” “Still trying to argue?!” Mom snatched the report from my hand, scanned it, and sneered, “To gain attention, you stoop to forging medical records! You’ve ruined your sister’s important birthday party! You’ve been a liar since childhood, and you expect us to believe you now?” Saying this, she too tried to hit me, but Bella held her back with all her might. Bella’s eyes sparkled with tears, and she pleaded with me, appearing fragile and innocent. “I’m sorry, Aria, I shouldn’t have had a birthday. Please, stop deceiving Mom and Dad! Mom and Dad have worried themselves sick over you. If you could just repent, I promise I’ll never celebrate my birthday again!” Mom tenderly held Bella in her arms, wiping away her tears little by little. The scene of their deep mother-daughter affection stung my eyes. My mind was a blank, and a gush of hot, coppery blood streamed from my nostrils. I raised my hand to wipe the blood, then turned back to the service counter and addressed the staff member. “I no longer have a family. To avoid delaying the cremation in three days, please help me process the cancellation.” Dad laughed in exasperation, his tone mocking. “To ruin your sister’s birthday party, you even drag government officials into your act? This is absurd! Just wait for the consequences of your deplorable behavior! Don’t even claim to be my daughter then!” With that, they left with Bella, never looking back. After completing all the procedures, I returned home alone. Three days left to live: I, with late-stage cancer, processed my own identity cancellation. While my parents were celebrating a birthday with their adopted daughter. On the verge of death, I didn’t want to linger at home. I merely wanted to sort through my belongings one last time. But I found there was little to organize. My room was the smallest storage space in the house. It held only a few old clothes and a meager collection of stationery that belonged to me. Even Bella’s walk-in closet was three or four times larger. Only her unwanted items ever made their way into this storage room. After packing my things, I received a call from the Cemetery Company. “Ms. Aria Sterling, are you still interested in the burial plot you viewed previously? If you place a deposit now, we can reserve it for you; otherwise, it will be offered to other clients.” It was a plot I had looked at not long ago. The cemetery was adorned with lush pines and manicured roses. The gravestone and urn were in a clean, minimalist style. It was my favorite. At the time, I thought, since life had been so hard, perhaps death could be more comfortable. But now, that wish couldn’t be fulfilled. I hesitated for a moment, then replied, “No, thank you.” Because I had no money. How could someone who couldn’t afford medical treatment buy an expensive burial plot? As soon as I hung up, my older brother, Ethan, returned. He threw his briefcase down hastily, looking bewildered. “A burial plot? What burial plot?” I thought he knew something. But the next second, he spoke with an accusatory tone. “Aria Sterling, what new trick are you up to? I heard you caused a scene at the Civic Center just to ruin Bella’s birthday party! Not just Mom and Dad, even I’m embarrassed! Bella was so worried about you she cried out of guilt, and her birthday party was ruined. This is her only eighteenth birthday! If she hadn’t lost her parents when she was little, she wouldn’t have to live as a dependent. Why can’t you just accept her?” I looked at Ethan’s aggressive face, and the words I wanted to say caught in my throat. Wasn’t I the one being excluded? Bella’s eighteenth birthday was important, but what about mine? Ever since she appeared, I had never had a proper birthday. Every time my birthday approached, Bella would either catch a cold or have an allergic reaction. Then Mom and Dad would promptly abandon me, and the whole family would accompany her to the hospital. For ten consecutive years, if Bella so much as sneezed, Mom and Dad would nervously reach for a thermometer. As for my eighteenth birthday, they simply forgot. I didn’t even receive a single “Happy Birthday.” Yet they remembered to organize a banquet for Bella, custom-make her a dress, and prepare birthday gifts. With tears in my eyes, I looked at Ethan, telling him choked up, “Ethan, my eighteenth birthday, my only eighteenth birthday, you not only forgot it, but you didn’t even give me pocket money to buy a slice of birthday cake…” Ethan remembered something, and his eyes seemed to soften. But when he spoke, his tone was still irritable. “Why are you so petty? If you didn’t make mistakes and refuse to repent, why would Mom and Dad be angry for so long?” Just then, Dad, Mom, and Bella returned. From a distance, their echoing shouts of reprimand drifted from outside the door. “You still have the nerve to mention your eighteenth birthday? Based on what you’ve done to Bella, you don’t deserve to celebrate a birthday!” Dad’s face was ashen, his eyes burning with a rage that seemed ready to consume me. “You completely ruined Bella’s birthday, and yet she cried herself almost into shock begging us to forgive you! Don’t you feel any guilt at all? Apologize to your sister at once!” Bella snapped out of her sadness, forced a smile, and stepped forward. “No need to apologize, I’d like to eat the soy milk cake Aria makes. Aria, would you make me a cake?” Mom’s eyes flashed with a hint of relief, and she quickly urged me, “Isn’t that your specialty, sweetie? Aria, Bella’s giving you an easy out, you’re practically getting off lightly, hurry up and go!” I looked at Bella’s increasingly smug expression, didn’t move, and instead retorted, “Aren’t you allergic to soy beans? Insisting on eating my cake, are you trying to blame me again for your allergy?” Bella’s face instantly went pale. In the blink of an eye, she grabbed my hand, pleading innocently, “I’m sorry, Aria, I forgot! It’s all my fault for falling down the stairs when I was little, which damaged my brain and made me forget about my allergy! Aria, please don’t be angry, okay? I can eat another flavor!” Her hypocritical and affected demeanor made me find her utterly ridiculous. The first time I made a soy milk cake, I didn’t know she was allergic to soy beans. At the time, to prove my sincerity to my sister. Just because she said she liked it, I burned my hands countless times to bake the perfect cake base. As a result, Bella had an allergic reaction and fainted. When she woke up, she immediately cried and threw herself into Dad and Mom’s arms. “Uncle Sterling and Aunt Sterling, the cake was Aria’s kind gesture, she said it wouldn’t matter if I just had one bite. Please, don’t blame Aria, it’s all my fault for being greedy!” I stood helplessly by the hospital bed, facing Mom and Dad’s hateful glares. “I didn’t know Bella was allergic to soy beans, and she never told me…” But what I received in return was not trust. It was a flying kick from Dad. He kicked me in the stomach, sending me several feet away. The pain was so intense I couldn’t even get up. “Everyone in the family knows, how could you not know? Don’t make such a pathetic excuse! I think you just can’t stand your sister!” So, I was locked in my room for three whole days. Those three days were a nightmare of my life. No food, no water, couldn’t even go to the bathroom. By the time I was let out, I was utterly exhausted. Thinking of this, I coldly refused her, “My skills aren’t good enough, I can’t make what you want. If you want something, go buy it yourself.” Bella persistently clung to my arm, her voice tinged with a hint of fear. “Alright, alright, I don’t want cake, please don’t be angry, Aria!” As she spoke, a malicious glint flashed in her eyes. Her grip on my arm tightened with increasing force. Until, wincing in pain, I pulled my hand away, and she, completely off guard, stumbled and fell to the floor. Everyone’s face instantly changed. Mom, quick as a flash, helped Bella up, anxiously checking her for injuries. Bella seemed to have bumped her elbow, and she whimpered in Mom’s arms, “Mom, it hurts…” Ethan rolled up her sleeve, gently rubbed her joint a few times, then turned and sharply rebuked, “Aria Sterling! You’ve gone too far!” Dad, even more furious, stepped forward and slapped me directly. “Aria Sterling, you really are ungrateful! If you hadn’t pushed Bella down the stairs when you were little, would she have suffered brain damage?! If I had known you were so malicious, I never should have had you! No dinner tonight, go back to your room and reflect properly!” The slap was delivered with almost full force. I felt like one of my molars had fallen out. Mom saw the blood at the corner of my mouth, and a flicker of pity crossed her eyes. But the next second, merely because Bella’s crying intensified a little, she averted her gaze and went back to comforting Bella. I wiped the blood from my mouth and turned to go back to my room. Not to reflect, but to retrieve my packed luggage. They glanced at me in surprise, then followed with sneers. “What, you’ve grown wild, learned to run away from home? Parents disciplining you is for your own good, Aria. Why don’t you understand our sincere intentions? If you refuse to comply, then walk out that door today and don’t ever come back!” With repeated disappointments, my heart had become as still as water. Hearing such threats countless times, I was no longer afraid of not being able to return home. Because this home had never truly accepted me. Seeing me walk out without looking back. Dad, furious, grabbed a cup and threw it. The shattering glass grazed my head, leaving a small cut. But I did not yield. I merely paused, turning to face everyone. “Since you regret having me, then today I sever all ties with the Sterling family. Whoever goes back on their word is a dog.” As soon as I stepped out of the villa’s courtyard, Ethan chased after me, pulling a few bills from his pocket. He offered them to me, his tone admonishing. “Here’s a hundred dollars, take it and cool off somewhere for a few days. Once Mom and Dad calm down, come back and apologize, and this whole thing will blow over.” A hundred dollars. For Bella, that was just the cost of a single meal. So, they had long been accustomed to believing that my, Aria’s, few days of living expenses were only worth Bella’s one meal. Just then, Bella also ran out. She snatched the money from Ethan’s hand, smiling as she fawned over me. “Aria, we’re all family, Dad and Mom are just saying things in anger. Does Ethan really want to drive Aria away? If you ask me, don’t give her any money. When she gets hungry, she’ll come back sooner, won’t she?” Ethan seemed to find logic in this, and quietly withdrew his hand. My symptoms flared up again. Dragging my weary body, I don’t know how long I walked before finally leaving the affluent district where the Sterling family resided. Using the little money I’d saved from part-time jobs, I booked a room at a motel. That night, I curled up on the small bed, holding myself. As time slowly ticked away, I drifted into a dream. In the days before Bella, I, too, was my parents’ cherished darling. At that time, they were both too busy with work to spare any attention. When I was very young, they sent me to the countryside. Mom kissed my cheek, lingeringly, and said, “Darling, when Mom finishes work, she’ll come to pick you up soon.” I waited four years. When Mom and Dad finally came for me, there was another girl with them. She was the child of Dad’s close friend; her parents had passed away for certain reasons. Mom and Dad adopted her. I genuinely treated her as my own little sister. But on her birthday, she was pricked by a needle hidden in her party dress. She cried and buried herself in Mom and Dad’s arms, saying, “Uncle Sterling and Aunt Sterling, please don’t blame Aria. Aria didn’t mean it. Just give me a little more time, and I’ll definitely make her accept me!” Her words instantly sealed my fate. I questioned why she would frame me. A sinister smile appeared on her innocent face, then she grabbed my hand, placed it on her chest, and deliberately fell down the stairs. At that moment, Mom and Dad had just returned home. From then on, I became an undeniable troublemaker. The money I earned from part-time jobs was falsely accused by Bella of being stolen from her, and my parents cut off my allowance because of it. I was bullied by Bella’s clique, but she would merely feign innocence and turn the tables, making me out to be the bully. The consequence was being locked in a dark room. Because I often went hungry, I developed a severe stomach condition. When I bravely told Mom and Dad, my stomach medicine was replaced with vitamins. Simply because I had spent a few years in the countryside, all sorts of unfavorable accusations could be easily pinned on me. Even the right to celebrate my birthday was taken away. Waking up in the middle of the night with stomach pain, I suddenly longed for my Grandma in the countryside. The noodle soup Grandma made for me was incomparable to any food in the Sterling household. Not long after Grandma passed away, the countryside area was redeveloped. Unfortunately, my body was now very weak, and I didn’t have enough money for travel. Even visiting her grave had become an unattainable wish. Two days left to live: I ordered the cheapest noodle takeout I could find. While waiting for the delivery, I received a message from Ethan. [Mom and Dad still care about you, they told me to buy medicine for the cut on your head.] [Bella has already gone to see you with the medicine, she’s been trying to be friendly, please don’t hurt her anymore, okay?] Half an hour later. Bella and my takeout arrived almost simultaneously. Just as I was about to take my first bite of noodles, she raised her hand and knocked my bowl over. Noodles and broth splattered across the floor, a complete mess. “Aria Sterling, you didn’t actually think I came to bring you medicine, did you? My apologies, the medicine has already been thrown away.” She shed her usual demure facade, laughing spitefully. “Haven’t you seen the news? The staff member who processed your documents has been reported and suspended. Mom and Dad found out too, and they’re furious.” At this, I finally lost my patience. “Why are you doing this?” “Because I hate you, that’s why. Blame yourself, you jinx. You’re the one who dragged that person down. Got stomach cancer, big deal? You want to announce it to the world, but do you see Mom and Dad believing you? You’re dying anyway, why don’t you just die somewhere far away? Why do you have to be an eyesore here at the Sterling residence?!” Watching her enraged face, I remained unperturbed. Instead, I spoke calmly. “Bella, I genuinely believe I have never done anything to harm you. Why are you doing this to me?” Bella’s laugh was incredibly sarcastic. It took a long time for her to stop. “There’s no helping it. An adopted child simply can’t compare to a biological one. Parents, no matter how hard they try, can’t balance their love perfectly. So, I had to find a way to secure my place in the Sterling family, didn’t I?” “The needle in the dress when you were little, did you put it there yourself?” “That’s right.” Bella admitted without hesitation. “I put the needle in myself, and I threw myself down the stairs. A bit of specially formulated medicine, and I could fake an allergy. I’d go to any length to frame you. So, everything that’s happening now, I deserve it. What, are you very angry? Dissatisfied? Can you even kill me?” I was indeed very angry. The physical pain, mixed with fury, made me tremble. “Bella, you’re despicable!” No sooner had I spoken, she slapped me. It sent me sprawling to the ground. “Aria Sterling, save what little energy you have left, and just cling on for two more days. Once you’re dead, no one will threaten my position anymore.” She kicked me twice more before finally leaving, satisfied. Completely oblivious to the camera I had set up in the corner. I slowly picked myself up from the floor, laboriously brushing off my clothes, soaked with noodle broth. I opened my phone and saw the news about the staff member’s suspension. The online comments were unanimously against me, condemning my vicious behavior for sibling rivalry. I didn’t really care. But the staff member was innocent. So I created a group chat, inviting only Dad, Mom, and Ethan. And sent the video I had just recorded to the group. At the same time, I emailed it to all my relatives, friends, and classmates.

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When the protagonist appears, I am already pregnant with Kobby’s child. Unable to fight against fate, he once defied everything and broke off his engagement with the protagonist for me, but he also hated me to the core because of her, annoyed by even a glance at me. Finally, I grew tired, letting go of the entangled emotions, even giving up on the child. Until a twilight six years later. A tender-faced child knocked on my door. He said with a serious, grown-up expression: “My dad doesn’t want me anymore, can I stay with you?” 1 I froze for a moment, saying nothing. The child, Jessica, pursed his lips in displeasure, tilting his beautiful little face up and stating, very earnestly: “My teacher said that parents have the responsibility and obligation to raise their children…” The half-open door cut off his unfinished sentence. I stepped aside slightly, calmly saying: “Come in.” The dim yellow light within the room illuminated his slightly widened eyes. His eyes flickered inexplicably, and he huffed, chin raised, then obediently entered. I closed the door and turned to see Jessica curiously glancing around. Noticing me watching him, he immediately pulled his gaze back, nervously clutching his backpack straps, his small face taut as he said: “My name is Jessica.” It sounded like an introduction, and also like a reminder to me that he was the child Kobby and I had. I knew. From the first moment I saw him, I confirmed his identity. Because his appearance was almost an exact replica of Kobby’s. Seemingly disappointed by my calm reaction, he turned his head away, looking unhappy, no longer at me. I placed his small, yellow backpack by the entrance, then led him to wash his hands. “Let’s eat first.” Jessica obediently hummed in agreement. When I brought the food out, he had already climbed onto a chair by himself. I asked him why he suddenly came to find me. Jessica buried his head, poking at the small green vegetables in his bowl, his lowered head round and dark, his voice muffled: “I argued with him. He threw things and told me to get out, said never to come back.” So, he had run away from home in a fit of pique. Kobby would probably come to pick him up soon. That made sense. After all, six years ago, the Wilson family had a very ugly fight with me over Jessica’s custody. It was even less likely they wouldn’t want him now. My chopsticks paused, and I couldn’t quite say what I felt in my heart at that moment. I didn’t know Jessica was coming tonight, so I only had a simple two dishes and a soup. He was very picky, didn’t eat spring onions or carrots, and ended up with no vegetables to eat. Jessica stared at the mashed vegetable leaves with a look of deep resentment, then secretly glanced at me, swallowing guiltily. When we first met, he had a hint of childish arrogance and spoiledness, but now, he was picky and disliked vegetables, which suggested he was always indulged and pampered at the Wilson family home. He must not have been wronged. I felt a little relieved. After washing the dishes, I waited for Kobby to send someone to pick him up. I waited until half past nine. Six-year-old children get sleepy very early. He pulled pajamas from his backpack, looked around, and pouted, saying: “There’s only one room.” “Am I sharing a bed with you tonight?” I glanced at the clock on the wall, wondering why the Wilson family still hadn’t sent anyone. I had no choice but to compromise. “Yes, you’ll sleep with me tonight.” I expected Jessica to throw a tantrum. After all, a simple one-bedroom apartment would naturally not be as comfortable as the Wilson family’s mansion. But Jessica merely pursed his lips, his gaze flickering. After washing his face, he huffed and puffed into his pajamas, then climbed onto the bed, kicking his legs. It was just like dinner when he appeared disgusted but still quietly ate the vegetables I put on his plate. He burrowed and burrowed under the covers, making a little mound, then pulled out a fairy tale book from somewhere, secretly peeking at me with his eyes, and couldn’t help but urge: “Aren’t you going to read me a bedtime story?” He looked quite happy. 2 After reading Jessica to sleep, I pulled out Kobby’s number. I hesitated for a long time, but still didn’t dial. Kobby and I had been apart for six years. At first, we both thought we could defy fate. Back then, my family suddenly went bankrupt, and the Wilson family called off the engagement, secretly arranging an engagement between Kobby and Elara without his knowledge. For my sake, he recklessly broke off his engagement with Elara. He even gave up his heir status, enduring a family punishment from old Mr. Wilson and unable to get out of bed for half a month. Seeing my tears, he still endured the pain, softly comforting me with a lazy smile. I thought things would get better. The bankruptcy would get better, Kobby would get better, the future would get better. But it didn’t. Kobby and I got married in secret. Perhaps because of Kobby’s unwavering devotion to me, even after I got pregnant, I never thought of not having the child. Until the eve of childbirth. I called him repeatedly, enduring the pain, but Kobby never answered. A neighbor took me to the hospital, and when I woke up, I saw a cold and indifferent Kobby. I don’t know why a person could change so drastically overnight. So much so that his gaze towards me was filled with unfamiliar disdain. Elara visited me once. From her, I learned the truth about this world. Due to a system error in timing, when the late protagonist appeared, the male lead had already developed feelings for someone else. As a consequence of the correction, the male lead’s misplaced affection began to invert. The more he loved me before, the more he hated me now. Elara looked at me with a pitiful and sympathetic gaze. Before she left, she whispered, “Have you ever thought about what will happen to your child in the future?” I was suddenly stunned, a little lost. I didn’t know who to hate anymore. Should I hate Kobby? But he himself couldn’t sort out his feelings. Should I hate fate? But what good would hating do? I couldn’t change anything. At that time, my parents were in a car accident on their way to visit me at the hospital. They were unconscious and might be in a vegetative state for the rest of their lives. I was on the verge of a breakdown, Elara’s words replaying in my mind. I just felt that this damned world was so, so exhausting. I pushed open the window, and as I looked down, the child by the hospital bed suddenly began to wail loudly. Dazed, I wondered, if I died, what would become of him? Would this world tolerate his existence? Would Elara abuse him? Or would he, like me, be rejected by Kobby, then silently endure many grieWilsons, and finally die unnoticed, fulfilling everyone’s expectations? I started to tremble all over, returned to the bedside, my hands shaking as I reached for his neck. I wanted to take him with me. But then he stopped crying, his red, tear-filled eyes fixed on me, as if he wanted to stay with his mother no matter where she went. Until the nurse and bodyguard, sensing something was wrong, rushed in and roughly pushed me away. I looked down at my trembling hands, then suddenly realized what absurd thing I had almost done under Elara’s influence. News quickly reached the Wilson family. Old Mr. Wilson demanded to see me and began to fight for the child’s custody. I asked for nothing, left the Kobby who despised me, relinquished custody, and straightforwardly signed the divorce papers. I only asked for two million. Young and carefree, the former Miss Sterling, who once carelessly spent millions, now finds herself at a dead end for a few thousand dollars in hospital bills. Kobby never appeared from beginning to end. He loathed me so much that he didn’t even want to look at me. So, I accepted my fate. I abandoned the entangled emotions, even giving up on the child. I let him go, and I let myself go. It wasn’t until a soft little bundle burrowed into my arms that I snapped back to reality. Jessica whimpered in his sleep, curling up softly in my embrace, as if he had finally found a comfortable position, sleeping soundly. He clutched my clothes tightly, anxiously, as if afraid that I would disappear the moment he opened his eyes. I gazed at that innocent, tender face, and couldn’t help but let out a soft sigh. If he knew his mother wanted to strangle him at birth, would he still come looking for me? He would probably run from me faster than he could hide. 3 By morning, Kobby still hadn’t appeared. I didn’t know what he was trying to do. The Wilson family had fought so bitterly for custody, yet now they seemed to just abandon him. I woke Jessica up early and hailed a taxi to take him to school. His kindergarten was in a different city than mine, but luckily it was only an hour’s drive away. Before getting out of the car, he made me promise repeatedly that I would pick him up after school, and he clung to me, whining, refusing to let go. Until he saw a car parked in front of the kindergarten gate. His eyes lit up, and he urgently pulled me out of the car. As we approached, he deliberately slowed his steps, casually blocking the chubby boy who had just gotten out of the car. As if deliberately showing off, Jessica swung my hand, which he was holding, in front of the boy. Then, very loudly, in a voice everyone could hear, he asked me: “Mommy, you’ll pick me up after school, right?” This was the first time Jessica had called me “Mommy.” Perhaps because I had been absent for six whole years, even when he knocked on my door, he had never called me “Mommy” on his own. The chubby boy stared at me intently, saying with disbelief: “If you have a mommy, why didn’t she ever take you to school before?” Jessica snorted, his gaze full of disdain: “My mommy is busy with work. She took special leave today just to take me to school.” The word “special” was emphasized heavily. He held my hand and walked to the kindergarten gate in front of everyone, as if showing off, wanting everyone to see. Before we parted, he awkwardly asked again: “…You’ll come pick me up, won’t you?” Seeing my silence, he glared at me, then said, panicked and very softly: “You promised me in the car! Adults can’t lie!” I helplessly crouched down, smoothed out his turned-up collar, and ruffled his hair. His hair was dark and soft, and felt lovely to the touch. “Okay, I’ll come pick you up.” He couldn’t help but turn up the corners of his lips, then desperately straightened them, feigning maturity and raising his chin proudly, saying: “Hmm, I’ll remember to wait for you.” Only when his figure completely disappeared from my sight did I retract my gaze. I found his teacher and asked about Jessica’s situation in kindergarten. The teacher stammered, then finally sighed, frowning as she complained: “I know the Wilson family is powerful, and what I say might not be useful.” “But, Jessica’s mom, no matter how busy you are, you can’t neglect your child, can you?” “Since he enrolled, no one has ever come for a parent-teacher conference!” “Now all the children in the kindergarten are spreading rumors that he doesn’t have a mom. This isn’t good for the child’s psychological development at all.” No one had ever come for a parent-teacher conference? Even if Kobby was busy and disliked this child, was he even too lazy to send an assistant to handle it? I frowned, feeling for the first time that I might have made the wrong decision. …Perhaps I shouldn’t have given up custody back then. But at that time, I was penniless, my parents were in a coma in the hospital, and I couldn’t even support myself. How could I talk about raising a vulnerable child? I pulled out Kobby’s number, hesitated for a moment, then dialed. I decided to have a serious talk with him. If Kobby really didn’t want to raise him anymore, I would take him in. Although I couldn’t provide him with the same good conditions as the Wilson family, I had enough to raise a child. The phone had just been dialed when the ringing sounded behind me. As if realizing something, my fingertips trembled, and I turned around. Only to see Kobby stepping out of a black Bentley. Six years had passed; he seemed to have changed, and yet not changed at all. His eyelids were half-lowered, gazing at the illuminated screen, his wrist bones clearly defined, his stern face hidden in shadow. He calmly raised an eyebrow, then suddenly looked up. “You’ve been hiding from me for so many years.” “Talk?” Unlike my disheveled state over the years, Kobby remained composed and steady. His eyes were as they always were, looking at me with an inexplicably deep gaze. Even the light and shadow cast by the tree branches at this moment favored him. I heard he had taken over the entire Wilson family business from old Mr. Wilson. I heard the brand he founded was popular worldwide. I heard he had been secretly married years ago, always keeping a low profile. The memories of countless years, which I had deliberately ignored, surged back with devastating force, a subtle pain aching in my chest. Only when I saw him at that moment did I truly realize. I thought I had moved on. Apparently not. When he was young, he used to weave grass rings for me, and once kicked the person who bullied me into the pool. No one could have imagined that we would reach such an embarrassing point today. He hadn’t changed, actually; he just no longer loved me, that was all. It’s truly been a long, long time, Kobby. 4 In silence, we found a coffee shop nearby. Before the coffee arrived, I asked bluntly, as if to hide something: “Do you still want the child?” For the past six years, I had tormented myself fantasizing about a reunion with Kobby. So much so that I could now pretend to be calm. Kobby glanced up at me, without hesitation: “Of course I do.” I pursed my lips, staring at the street sign outside the floor-to-ceiling window, then quietly hummed and stood up. “Then remember to pick him up after school. If you don’t have time for parent-teacher conferences, you can notify me. I won’t disturb you and–” Still couldn’t bring myself to say Elara’s name. I couldn’t help but pinch my palm, the sharp pain making me clear-headed, forcing myself to say: “…won’t disturb your lives.” I glanced at the time, ready to leave. As I brushed past him, I heard Kobby ask unexpectedly: “So, you only want to talk about Jessica with me now?” I paused, not quite understanding. Our business had been settled six years ago; he had found new love, I took two million and left cleanly, it was that simple. Besides Jessica, what else was there for us to discuss? Kobby sighed softly, his dark eyes fixed on me, then spoke again: “Alright then, I don’t want Jessica.” He said it so righteously, as if he wasn’t the one who had changed his mind on the spot. I frowned, and couldn’t help but ask him: “What do you mean?” Kobby tilted his chin slightly, pointing to the opposite seat, motioning for me to sit back down. “Literally.” “You want to raise the child? Fine. He’s yours.” “Considering the child’s well-being, every Friday evening I will come to your current residence for necessary shared time with Jessica, and drive back to the company on Monday morning.” Watching him stubbornly argue with a straight face, I found it absurd. I couldn’t help but remind him: “We’re already divorced.” “Are we?” Kobby scoffed, his meaning unclear. “I didn’t sign.” It dawned on me belatedly what those words meant. When old Mr. Wilson made me sign the divorce papers, I only thought Kobby detested me so much that he didn’t even want to see me one last time, which was why he never appeared from beginning to end. He said he hadn’t signed. But then why did he only come looking for me six years later? I wouldn’t be so conceited as to think he still had any feelings for me. Perhaps the original agreement was lost, or there was some flaw in it that required a supplementary agreement to be signed—anything was possible. I pursed my lips, cooperating, and said: “Then let’s sign a new one.” Kobby didn’t even lift his eyes. “No.” I spoke to him gently: “Wouldn’t it be better if we settled everything after signing?” “No.” “Do you have any concerns? I don’t want any shares or money. Consider me leaving with nothing.” “No.” The three “nos” made me angry and dazed. Perhaps Kobby himself didn’t remember that he was like this in his youth. That day was his birthday party. Someone cornered me, looking at me provocatively and saying inappropriate things. Kobby kicked the person into the swimming pool. The commotion was huge. All the prominent figures in the capital were there, and the faces of several elders looked quite displeased. When asked for the reason, Kobby never offered an explanation. To avoid gossip and protect my reputation, Kobby didn’t even mention me from start to finish. He refused to admit fault and endured a beating from old Mr. Wilson. Perhaps no one would have imagined that the eighteenth birthday of this now prominent figure in the business world was spent in solitary confinement. The door was completely locked, even medicine couldn’t be brought in. I curled up outside the door, whispering softly, full of guilt: “I’m sorry.” Through the door, he paused for a moment, making some rustling sounds. He seemed to have sat down by the door too. His voice was a bit muffled; he softly hummed, then said: “Don’t listen.” I buried my forehead in my knees, murmuring, “Actually, you didn’t have to kick him. It would have been fine if you just let him finish talking. He wouldn’t dare do anything to me.” “No waiting.” I didn’t speak again. Perhaps he misunderstood something because my voice was too muffled. After a moment, he spoke again: “Don’t cry.” He tapped on the door, then tutted softly: “I did it voluntarily, it has nothing to do with you. Don’t cry.” I snapped back to reality, desperately hiding the bitterness in my eyes, yet it felt as if I heard his “Don’t cry” from many years ago again. Kobby sat in the light, smiling calmly, tiny dust motes dancing in the fragmented rays. His old contours had subtly sharpened with time. He looked up, raising an eyebrow at me. As if answering what I had said earlier. “Sophia, we can’t settle this.”

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