When the plane went down, everyone was crying and sending final messages to the people they loved most. I opened my arch-nemesis’s chat and furiously typed out my final words: “Are those two holes in your head just for decoration? Are you fucking blind? Could you really not tell that I like you? “Last time I pretended to be drunk so you’d make a move, you didn’t do shit. Serves you right, it’s too late to regret it now. “I’m hitting reset on my life, asshole—” 1 My body was in a freefall. Hypoxia was blurring my consciousness, and every ounce of strength was draining from my body. After a violent bout of turbulence, my phone slipped from my hand. I instinctively reached out to grab it, but my fingers closed around something soft and warm instead. Strange… is there anything on a plane that feels like this? In the dead silence of the cabin, a voice suddenly echoed. “Hey, how long are you going to hold on?” How was someone still talking? Everyone else had already passed out. “Deaf? Oh… you just don’t want to let go?” There it was again. Closer this time. Clearer. And painfully familiar. My sluggish brain finally processed it. Ah, it was his voice. Just seconds ago, I was furiously typing out my aggressive confession to him, but now, all my bravado was gone. At the very end, I had to admit my nonchalance was entirely faked. Deep down, I was so full of regrets that I was actually having auditory hallucinations. But this voice… why did it sound so distant? It carried a hint of that nostalgic, youthful arrogance. I strained my fading consciousness to think, when suddenly, my arm was yanked. Like a drowning man being pulled from the water, I gasped for air and snapped my eyes open, finally seeing the person in front of me. A raised brow, a recklessly arrogant smile, and a face that was aggressively handsome. Ethan Bennett. In a flash, all my lost senses flooded back into my body. The deafening chirp of summer cicadas filled the air, the hardwood floor gave off a rich scent under the baking sun, and a bead of sweat slowly rolled down my forehead. And I was tightly gripping Ethan’s hand. Was this… an illusion? “Carter Hayes, don’t tell me you’re about to confess your love to me too.” It wasn’t an illusion. I blankly pulled my hand back and opened my palm. Beneath the skin, there was a healthy pink hue, my pulse beating strong and steady. I clenched my fist, opened it, clenched it, opened it. I could control my body. “Did you actually go dumb? Tch, I told you studying too much would turn you into a total nerd.” I looked up and saw the blue trim of Ethan’s high school uniform. It was the summer of 2016. This year, I was a high school junior, and Ethan was a senior. 2 We had never gotten along. I hated how he always acted like a cynical, careless slacker. He hated how I was too rigid, boring, and lifeless. But as fate would have it, his younger brother, Liam Bennett, was my best friend. I always came over to their house after school to do homework. Just like today. “Fucking disgusting.” Ethan leaned lazily against the window, letting out a scoff. I followed his gaze. Down in the small garden below, someone was confessing their feelings to Liam. It was another boy. Out of the three Bennett brothers, Liam, the youngest, had that pretty-boy charm and naturally attracted a lot of suitors. “Fucking queer, doing that shit in someone else’s house. Disgusting, right?” Ethan turned his head, looking straight at me, a mocking smirk playing on his lips. I didn’t know if it was just my imagination, but while his expression was teasing, his eyes were dead serious. He was earnestly waiting for my answer. If I were the seventeen-year-old Carter, even though I couldn’t stand Ethan, I would have agreed with him on this just to avoid a fight. But the soul currently inhabiting this body was twenty-five years old. Over the next eight years, we went through a lot together. My feelings for him morphed from annoyance to love—so much love that, right before I died, he was the only person on my mind. I didn’t want to lie to myself. So I shook my head. “I don’t see the problem.” Ethan froze, his expression inexplicably darkening. “Tch, nerds are so boring.” He turned his back to me, clearly pissed off. I stood rooted to the spot, watching him walk away, feeling a bit lost. I couldn’t tell if this was time travel or reincarnation. But either way, it meant the twenty-five-year-old me was definitely dead. When Ethan heard the news of my death, how would he feel? Would he feel guilty? After all, the only reason I was on that doomed flight was to make it to his engagement party. 3 Eighteen-year-old Ethan hadn’t stepped into the halls of marriage yet. Right now, he was just furious that I couldn’t return his serve. “You’re the top student in our grade but you can’t hit a ball like this?! I practically fed it right to your racket! Are those two eyes of yours just for show?” He yelled so loud my eardrums ached. For some reason, the lingering sensation of impending death still clung to me. I felt like I was still on that plane, my brain suffering from intermittent bouts of vertigo. I lowered my tennis racket. “I’m done playing.” Liam jogged over to smooth things over. “Don’t mind my brother. You know he’s had a trash mouth for years, it’s not targeted at you.” I knew that. Ethan was an equal-opportunity asshole who verbally attacked everyone. But he was especially harsh with me. As I sat on the bench zoning out, a water bottle was suddenly tossed onto my lap. I didn’t catch it, and it rolled onto the ground. “Tch.” Ethan bent over, picked it up, and handed it back. “Drink some. You’re so pale I thought you were gonna drop dead.” When I didn’t move, he muttered a string of curses, took the bottle back, unscrewed the cap, and shoved it forcefully into my hands. “What, your majesty, you waiting for me to feed it to you?” With him taking it that far, I had no choice but to obediently lift the bottle and take a sip. Grapefruit flavor. Sweet. His expression softened, giving off a ‘that’s more like it’ vibe. Then he moved my racket aside and sat down next to me, lazily watching the other two guys rallying on the court. “Did you go to bed past midnight again? Doing those stupid practice tests?” My house and the Bennetts’ house were right next door to each other. Our bedroom windows were only separated by a narrow garden path—close enough that if he was changing his shirt by the window, I could see it the moment I looked up. “Would it kill you to do one less test and sleep earlier? Is your valedictorian spot hanging by a thread on that one single worksheet?” He really had a terrible way of talking. I wasn’t exactly a submissive person, and I had never been polite to Ethan either. Do you want to see me fail that badly? Normally, that’s how I would have fired back. But when I opened my mouth, the words caught in my throat. What came out instead was: “Are you worrying about me?” The moment the words left my lips, Ethan’s pupils shrank, and he shot up to his feet. “Bullshit!” He threw that single word at me and hurried back onto the court. Like a man whose soul had left his body, he completely completely missed every single one of Liam’s serves. I slowly screwed the cap back onto the water bottle, my heart racing uncontrollably. By bringing me back to the past, did God want me to fix my regrets? Or rather, did He want me to see the things I had previously ignored? Take that conversation just now. When I was younger, I only felt targeted and mocked. I never would have considered that Ethan was just being a prickly tsundere, refusing to admit he cared. I pressed a hand to my chest, taking a deep breath to suppress the overwhelming surge of joy. Ethan ran back over, his voice tight. “Fuck, are you feeling sick?” “No.” I shook my head. The sunlight was blindingly bright. If I could live my life over again, Ethan and I… 4 I went to sleep harboring infinite hopes for my second life. Yet, when I woke up, I saw the familiar ceiling of my college dorm room. I thought I was seeing things. I closed my eyes and opened them again. Still in the dorm. I lay there, unmoving. A dreadful realization crept up my spine like cold, damp moss. My ears rang, and my blood ran ice cold. This wasn’t reincarnation, and it wasn’t time travel. It was my life flashing before my eyes right before I died. Fate hadn’t given me a second chance. No miracle had descended. I was still hurtling toward my inevitable death. I couldn’t change a single thing. Liam knocked on my bed frame. “Come straight to my house after class today.” I stiffly turned on my phone. The calendar reminder read: Liam’s Birthday. I would remember this day for the rest of my life. Halfway through Liam’s party, a massive blackout hit the entire neighborhood, and the power company was taking forever to fix it. I navigated the pitch-black streets to walk back to my own house. Ethan followed right behind to walk me home. “You heard them too, right?” It was the exact same dialogue from my memory. “They were sneaking a kiss.” I opened my front door, crouching in the dark entryway, fumbling to take off my shoes. “It’s normal. They’re dating.” Liam had started dating his roommate freshman year, and their relationship was very stable. I was long used to their occasional PDA. Ethan made no move to leave. He leaned against the doorframe. I couldn’t read his expression in the dark. “Carter, if I remember correctly, you still haven’t had your first kiss, right?” This was playing out exactly like my memory. Next, I was supposed to snap back defensively, “So what? Mind your own business.” Then he would magnanimously say, “How pitiful. Why don’t you beg me? I might be willing to do you a favor and help you out.” His version of “help” was pinning me against the wall and kissing me until the power came back on and the lights flooded the room. Afterward, he had explained that it was too dark that night, his senses were heightened, and hearing the wet sounds of Liam and his boyfriend had riled him up. It was just an impulse, and he hoped I wouldn’t overthink it. My heart, which had been beating wildly, plummeted into a silent abyss at those words. To hide my crushing disappointment, I had forced a casual laugh and agreed: Yeah, totally. Two guys kissing is no big deal, basically the same as kissing a slab of pork. Snapping back to the present, Ethan noticed my silence and chuckled. “What, too embarrassed to admit it?” “No,” I denied. “It’s already gone.” Ethan froze, utterly shocked. “With who? Are you seeing someone?” Before I could answer, he started muttering to himself. “Impossible. Liam said you’ve been single this whole time. Oh—are you talking about kindergarten? That little girl with the pigtails? “Carter, that doesn’t count as a fucking first kiss. A kiss is supposed to be with someone you actually like—” He abruptly cut himself off. Ethan was right about one thing: the darkness really did amplify your senses. For instance, right now, I clearly felt his breathing hitch and stumble for a split second. “Hmm?” Curious about what he was going to say next, I feigned realization. “Oh, is that how it works? Then I guess I do still have it. Is there a problem?” Ethan went silent. After a long time, he stuttered out, “Then… do you… need me to…” “Need you to what?” He paused again, taking a deep breath. “Hearing those two going at it… didn’t you feel an urge to… to kiss someone too?” I stared intently into the dark where he stood, and heard myself say, “No.” Actually, I wanted it desperately. But I also knew that no matter what choice I made in this illusion, it wouldn’t change the ultimate outcome. So what if it was meaningless? I just wanted to confirm that all these years, my unrequited love hadn’t been entirely one-sided. Ethan had lost his excuse. We fell into a stalemate. I finally relented. “Okay, maybe I want to a little. But you just said it yourself, it only counts if it’s with someone you like.” Am I someone you like? “You can just pretend I’m the person you like,” Ethan said, stepping closer to me, his scalding breath washing over my face. “Like that underclassman in your club. You’re into her, right? Heard you asked her out to dinner a few times but still haven’t sealed the deal?” Underclassman? It had been so many years since college, I had almost forgotten she even existed. Thinking back, we had teamed up for an academic competition, but there was never anything else between us. “Did I guess right?” Ethan reached out and gripped my chin. For some reason, his grip was unexpectedly tight. “No…” A soft click sounded from above, and the next second, the room flooded with light. I reflexively squeezed my eyes shut. “The power is back.” Ethan stared at me fixedly, his gaze dark and unreadable. He raised his hand and covered my eyes. “No, it’s not.” Warm, soft lips pressed against mine, slowly and deeply grinding against them. I wanted to ask him if the old, emotionally stunted me had missed too many signs. When did you start liking me? Why couldn’t either of us just be a little braver? It was all too late now. I couldn’t bear to push him away. I’ll ask him when this is over. When this kiss ends, I’m going to finally confirm his feelings properly. That way, even if we couldn’t be together in life, I wouldn’t die with regrets. But when I opened my eyes, I was no longer in my entryway. A coworker was supporting my weight as we walked toward a hotel room door, and Ethan’s voice rang out from behind us. “Why did he drink so much?”

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A distant great-aunt passed away, leaving me a massive inheritance. But there was a catch: to inherit the money, I had to raise her autistic grandson. 1 “How much?” I asked the lawyer. He pushed his glasses up his nose and stated a figure I absolutely could not refuse. “And that’s not including the real estate,” he added. My eyes lit up. I dusted off my knees, which were dirty from moving boxes all day. “Deal. Where do I sign?” “Ms. Davis, do you accept the attached conditions?” “It’s just raising a person, right? With that kind of money, I could raise a whole football team.” Mr. Wu, the lawyer, looked displeased. “He is not a typical person. You might need to thoroughly educate yourself on individuals with his specific condition.” I thought about it for a second. “Alright, let’s meet him first, then we’ll talk.” The next day at noon, I was a few minutes late arriving at the agreed-upon location. My team lead at the corporate grind-house had a habit of terrorizing employees. I couldn’t even count how many interns he had made cry. If I didn’t need the money to pay off my debts, I would have bailed ages ago. 2 When I arrived, I spotted Mr. Wu from a distance. He pointed toward a flower shop nearby, looking a bit exasperated. “He’s over there. Let’s head over, and I’ll explain on the way.” I walked with him into an absurdly large flower shop. Calling it a flower shop felt like an understatement; it was more like a mini botanical garden. “Oliver loves plants. He even majored in botany abroad. You must remember this: his one and only interest is plants.” I was surprised. “You mean he can study at a university level?” Mr. Wu gave me a deadpan look. “He has autism. He’s not stupid.” I nodded sheepishly. Mr. Wu reminded me, “If you can’t get him to accept you as family, you forfeit your right to the inheritance.” “So what’s the metric for ‘accepting’ me?” “That he is willing to live with you.” Mr. Wu continued listing things to watch out for, but my attention was suddenly hijacked by a figure standing ahead. 3 The young man was tall, lean, and pale. His eyes were starkly black and white, incredibly clear. He was staring unblinking at a potted plant in front of him. Sunlight filtered through the transparent skylight, casting a dusting of golden light over him. He reached out a long, slender finger and tapped a leaf. “Are you sick?” his voice was barely a whisper. “Is that him?” I asked Mr. Wu. He adjusted his glasses and gave a solemn nod. “Oliver, your aunt is here.” I quickly waved my hands. “I’m barely a few years older than him. Just call me by my name.” But clearly, Oliver was more familiar with Mr. Wu. Without even looking up, he repeated, “Auntie.” I tentatively walked up to him. “Do you like this tree?” It was like he didn’t even hear me. He just gently stroked the leaves, as if he were healing the plant. When we left the shop, I bought that potted plant and gave it to Oliver. When he took it, he softly whispered, “Thank you.” According to the contract, I took Oliver home to live with me. If we made it smoothly through the next three months, I would receive the entire inheritance. 4 The apartment I rented wasn’t huge, but it was perfectly fine for two people. Plus, it was close to my office, so I hadn’t considered moving. Oliver was visibly tense in the new environment. The only things he said to me were, “Where is Grandma?” or “Where is Mr. Wu?” I didn’t sugarcoat it. “Grandma passed away, and Mr. Wu is very busy. You’re going to live with me from now on, okay?” He didn’t say anything, so I assumed he agreed. But when I got home from work, he was gone. Panicking, I didn’t even take off my shoes and was about to rush out to find him, when I suddenly heard a noise from the balcony. I walked over and saw him huddled in the corner of the balcony, hiding himself behind a plant stand. He sat on the floor quietly, like a silent, dormant plant. I parted the dense leaves of a spider plant. He instinctively looked up, his eyes crystal clear. I breathed a sigh of relief. “Time to eat.” 5 He didn’t get up. He just asked me, “Where is Grandma?” “She passed away, remember?” It took a long moment before he blinked. “Grandma passed away.” “Come on out, let’s eat first.” He shrank further into the corner, pressing his hands tightly over his ears. “I don’t like it here. I want to go home.” Feeling helpless, I tried to coax him. “I’ll take you home after we eat.” He hesitated, dawdling for a long time before finally coming out. Mr. Wu had mentioned that Oliver had been living abroad for treatment since he was ten. It would take time for him to adjust to life back in the States. At the dinner table, he managed to eat half a bowl of rice. I breathed another sigh of relief. It was a very strange feeling. He felt like a rare, exotic plant that had just been transplanted into my home, and I was a novice gardener, trying to meticulously control every environmental factor to ensure he survived. After all, he was my literal money tree. 6 “Good job.” I patted his head praisingly. He didn’t pull away; he even reached up and patted his own head. His hair was fluffy and soft, kind of like the texture of a yew tree. The yew tree was the potted plant I had bought for him. After dinner, he gathered the bowls and took them into the kitchen, then turned around to look at me. “What is it?” “There’s no dishwasher here. But the housekeeper usually puts the bowls in the dishwasher.” I rolled up my sleeves. “It’s fine, go play.” He stood in the kitchen doorway, staring at me for a long time before walking away, looking exactly like a rich kid who had never seen how the peasants lived. By the time I finished cleaning the kitchen, he was talking to himself, facing the potted plant. As I mopped the floor, I moved closer. Listening carefully, I realized he was reciting the specific characteristics of that type of plant. The technical jargon completely went over my head. When he finished, I tried to strike up a conversation. “Are you talking to it?” “I’m talking to you.” “Got it. I’m listening.” He seemed a bit happy about that and crouched down to talk to the spider plant. I could tell he was incredibly familiar with the habits of these plants. When I finished mopping, he finally stood up and said, “Auntie, I want to go home now.” 7 “You don’t want to live with me?” “I live with Grandma.” “Grandma passed away. She asked me to take care of you. You’re going to live with me from now on, okay?” He immediately grew agitated. “No. I don’t want Auntie.” I rubbed my temples. Great, issues on day one. “I want to go home,” he repeated stubbornly. A sudden idea hit me. I pointed to the half-dead plants sitting on my windowsill. “If you leave, what will happen to them? There’s no one to help me take care of them. They’ll die.” He froze, his expression turning conflicted. I crouched down in front of him, clasping my hands together in a pleading gesture. “Could you please help me take care of them? I’m begging you.” “When they bloom, I’m going home.” Judging by his words, he had agreed to stay. 8 I catered to his interests, gradually turning the apartment into a botanical garden. Plants became our medium of communication. After a month of living together, he had at least grown used to my presence. Oliver possessed a genuine talent for gardening. My jasmine plant, which had never flowered before, suddenly sprouted numerous buds. He even knew exactly what time the flowers would open. He would sit on the balcony in the middle of the night waiting, and the moment a flower bloomed, he’d shake me awake. Rubbing my sleepy eyes, I’d let him drag me out to look at the flowers. When Oliver was happy, his eyes would sparkle like starlight, making them look even more vivid and alive. “Does Nora like flowers?” he asked me. Ever since I told him my name, he switched between calling me Auntie and Nora. “I like them,” I said, stifling a yawn. “I have lots and lots of flowers at home. Mr. Wu said someone is taking care of them, but I want to go home.” He was talking about his home abroad. Oliver had a 3,000-square-foot greenhouse there. “When I get some time off, I’ll go back with you.” He didn’t reject the idea this time. He smiled and said okay. 9 One day, I came home from work, and the elderly neighbor next door was giving me a very weird look. She shook her head and sighed as she walked past me. My head was full of question marks. Before I could process it, my front door was pushed open. My ex-boyfriend, Mark, stood there, looking at me with a mocking sneer. “Wow, Nora. We haven’t even been broken up for two months, and you’ve already moved some random guy in?” I pushed past him. Oliver was carrying dishes to the table. “Auntie, time to eat.” I whipped around and slapped Mark across the face. “You made him cook?!” Mark clutched his cheek and roared, “I cooked the damn food! He insisted on carrying it!” 10 A bizarre silence descended over the dinner table. After a long time, I finally spoke. “Give me back the key.” “You’re pretty ruthless,” Mark said, crossing his arms and looking Oliver up and down. “He’s a relative on Richard’s side. Does he even count as your nephew?” “If he found me, he counts,” I replied. Mark knew I came from a blended family. Richard was my stepdad. He died of a heart attack after his business failed, leaving behind a mountain of debt. Mark’s lips twitched in a sneer. “It’s one thing to pay off Richard’s debts, but to take on a massive burden like this? Have you lost your mind?” “You don’t understand.” He wasn’t a burden; he was my money tree. Mark let out a harsh scoff. “I’m preparing to study abroad. I’m leaving in a few days.” I remained expressionless. “Congratulations.” “I said I’m leaving the country, and you have no reaction? You’re not going to ask me to stay?” Before I could even open my mouth, Oliver suddenly chimed in. “Don’t want him to stay.”

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When I was seven, my dad brought home a little girl and told me to treat her like my own flesh-and-blood sister. Later, I found out she was the daughter of his deceased first love. From that day on, my dad’s eyes rarely landed on me. My new sister, Chloe, had poor health, so my dad spent most of his time at the hospital with her. He was there so much that he couldn’t even make it back in time to see my mom before she died. He apologized to me: “If you’re angry, take it out on me. Don’t blame your sister; she’s fragile.” Normally, I would have thrown a massive fit and turned the house upside down. But this time, I just looked calmly at the two of them. “As long as Chloe is okay.” 1 My mom’s funeral was over. My dad cried so hard he was a mess; it took several people to pull him up from the ground. Long after we got home, he sat staring blankly at a small box. It was the first gift he had ever given my mom, and she couldn’t bear to throw the box away. Seeing me walk in, he hastily stood up and stumbled toward me, almost falling. “Did your mom leave any last words for me?” I glanced at Chloe, who was standing timidly behind him, and shook my head. “Mom was in a lot of pain when she passed. She couldn’t say anything.” Noticing my gaze, my dad subtly shifted his footing, moving to shield Chloe. Even so, he was still anxious. He added, “Daddy is so sorry. This is all my fault. If you’re angry, take it out on me, but don’t blame your sister. She’s not well.” He still had faint scratch marks on his arm from where I had hit him. I had a well-known reputation in the neighborhood for being a rebellious, unfilial daughter who would lash out at her own father at the drop of a hat. My dad, on the other hand, was universally known as a good man—gentle, considerate, someone who never even raised his voice. The looks everyone gave me seemed to say: Go ahead, throw a tantrum. Just like always, grab whatever is handy and throw it at them. But this time, I just felt exhausted. I finally understood why my mom, right before she left, told me not to throw tantrums anymore. She said it was too tiring. She had been tired for over a decade and didn’t want me to end up like her. She wanted me to get out, to leave this place, to leave this family. “As long as Chloe is okay,” I said softly. My dad’s eyes widened in disbelief. I hugged my mom’s portrait, turned around, walked into my room, and shut the door. Over the past few years, to pay for Chloe’s medical treatments, our family’s savings had been drained. We sold the house. We sold the car. Right now, we were living in a rental apartment paid for by my uncle. Chloe’s illness was almost cured, but my mom had died because we couldn’t afford timely treatment for her. That afternoon, I went out and dyed my glaring red hair back to black. I pinned back my heavy bangs. I wandered the streets for a while, not knowing where to go, and eventually ended up back at the cemetery. I wanted my mom to see me. She always liked it best when I looked neat and well-behaved. When I got back, my dad was cooking, and Chloe was helping him. I didn’t know what they were talking about, but both of their faces were glowing with smiles. Chloe had even posted on social media: [I have the best dad in the whole world.] The picture attached was of a beautiful new dress. I casually liked the post. It was deleted shortly after. Chloe looked at me, her small face turning pale. My dad rushed over to explain, “She… she hasn’t been able to wear dresses because she was sick. She just wanted to commemorate it. Don’t be angry.” “It’s a nice dress.” They exchanged a confused look, not understanding my reaction. I sat down at the dining table. “What’s for dinner?” Chloe quickly brought the dishes over, looking surprised. “You dyed your hair back, Serena?” My dad finally noticed. “What made you decide to dye it black?” I shrugged. “The school doesn’t allow students to have red hair.” Before, I always did the exact opposite of what Chloe did. If she wore white, I wore black. She was sweet and obedient, so I was rebellious and loud. I wanted to be completely different from the “good kid.” I thought that maybe, just maybe, if I acted out, my dad would finally look at me, scold me, or yell at me. After all, before Chloe arrived, he poured all his energy into raising me and gave me everything he could. But he never did. He never scolded me for it. In truth, he probably never even noticed my changes. His eyes only ever followed Chloe. So, I started bullying her. I dumped ash into her cup; I purposely spilled soup on her pristine white clothes. And it worked. My dad finally got angry and hit me for the first time. My mom got into a massive fight with him over it. Chloe was so scared she had a relapse, and my dad took her away from home for over six months. In the end, my uncle had to intervene as a peacemaker, dragging my mom along to apologize before my dad finally returned. That night, I got up to get a glass of water and found my dad still awake. He was sitting on the sofa, sewing a tear in Chloe’s school uniform. “Serena? Up for water?” “Yeah.” He held the uniform, looking a bit awkward. “Daddy will mend yours as soon as I finish Chloe’s.” “I already mended mine.” His eyes widened, and he stared at me, unmoving. In the past, I would have thrown my clothes right at his head and demanded he fix them. If they weren’t torn, I would intentionally rip them. Whatever Chloe had, I demanded to have too. I thought that by throwing a fit, I was claiming what was mine. Now, I couldn’t care less. After finishing my water, I went back to my room to study. I promised my mom I would get into a good college. 2 I had fallen so far behind in my classes over the past few years that the teachers had basically given up on me. Fortunately, when I called my homeroom teacher earlier to ask for the homework assignments, she took pity on me out of respect for my late mother. She kindly told me what they were and suggested I buy some foundational workbooks to start from the absolute basics. The next day at school, my classmates and teachers were shocked by my new appearance. My homeroom teacher nodded approvingly. “See how energetic you look now? You used to look like a little delinquent. What was so great about that?” I stood up and bowed deeply to the teachers. “I apologize for the trouble I caused everyone before. I was immature. I will study hard from now on.” If my mom hadn’t gone to the school countless times to plead with the teachers and administrators, I probably would have been expelled a long time ago. I did all those things to get my dad’s attention, but the only person who suffered the consequences was my mom. He never showed up to school once. Many students assumed I was from a single-parent household. A teacher even did a home visit specifically to try and help me. When she discovered that I was the sister of the model student, Chloe, she could only sigh helplessly. “How can two girls raised in the same house be so different?” My dad quickly pulled Chloe forward to pour water for the teacher, acting incredibly subservient and fawning. “Our Chloe has weak health. We really rely on the teachers to take good care of her at school.” My mom and I just stood to the side in silence. Before she died, my mom left me a little bit of money. It was the college fund she had managed to scrape together for me over the years. I signed up for online courses and studied like my life depended on it for a month. Finally, my test scores were no longer completely embarrassing. Chloe’s birthday arrived. It was her 18th, and my dad insisted on throwing a proper celebration. However, since we couldn’t afford a restaurant, he cooked the meal himself and told Chloe to invite her friends over. My mom’s portrait was still hanging in the house. It hadn’t even been seven days since her funeral. The kitchen was filled with ingredients my dad had bought. They were all Chloe’s favorites. “Chloe can’t eat spicy food,” he said when he saw me chopping Thai chilies. I ignored him and kept chopping. He suddenly marched over, grabbed my wrist, and snatched the knife away. “I told you, Chloe can’t eat spicy food! She just recovered. What are you trying to do?!” He yelled for a bit, but apparently, that wasn’t enough. He switched to a preachy, earnest tone. “Today is your sister’s 18th birthday. Can we please just not fight? Can we let her have a happy birthday? Just consider it a favor to your dad.” What about my 18th birthday? I spent my 18th birthday in the hospital with my mom. He didn’t even say “Happy Birthday.” He only remembered the next day when he saw the empty cake box in the hospital room, and quickly bought a cheap trinket from a stall outside the hospital to make up for it. “Serena!” Chloe gasped. “Your hand!” Only then did I feel the burning sting in my palm. Blood was running down my fingertips and dripping onto the floor. The knife had sliced a long, thin gash across my palm. It wasn’t deep, but it bled profusely. My dad jumped in shock and hastily threw the knife onto the cutting board. “Serena, Daddy didn’t mean to.” His voice trembled as he carefully searched my face. “Daddy will take you to the hospital to get it bandaged right now.” I pushed his hand away. “Today is Chloe’s birthday.” He froze. “I can go by myself. It’s not that serious.” With that, I grabbed my phone and ID and walked out of the apartment. I didn’t see my dad standing by the door, watching my back for a long time, murmuring, “Has Serena… changed?” 3 I didn’t go to the hospital. I just found a pharmacy and bandaged it myself. Then I went to the bookstore, bought a stack of practice exams, and started working. Out of ten questions, I got seven wrong. In a fit of frustration, I slammed my injured hand on the table. The sharp pain almost made me jump up and scream. “Even if you mutilate yourself, you still won’t know the answers. That’s an IQ problem.” I turned my head and saw Liam sitting behind me. He smirked, his smile infuriatingly arrogant. “Well, this is rare. Never thought I’d see you in a place like this.” He was the school’s top student. I used to think he wasn’t that big of a deal. But a few days ago, the teacher proudly announced that he had scored a perfect 100 on the math exam again. While I scored a 30. Thinking about that, I couldn’t stop the look of pure admiration from flooding my eyes. “Hehehe, we’re going to be seeing a lot of each other here from now on.” He shrank back. “Whoever you are, get out of Serena’s body.” I wasn’t angry at all. I shamelessly slid over to his side. “Explain this to me, please?” He glanced at it casually. “It’s B.” “Why?” “Because it has to be B.” Me: “…” For an entire afternoon, I forgot about my injured hand and annoyed the resident genius in the library to the point of a near heart attack. It wasn’t until the sky started getting dark that I packed my things to head home. Liam’s face was dark. As we stepped out of the library, he muttered bitterly, “I hope to God I never meet anyone as dense as you for the rest of my life.” “Hehehe.” He took another few steps back in horror. “What? Don’t even think about it.” My eyes instantly welled with tears. “You know my mom just passed away. Her biggest dying wish was…” “Okay, okay, fine!” He threw his hands up in surrender. “If you’re not afraid of being insulted and berated, then I have nothing to be afraid of either.” “Thank you, thank you!” I grabbed his hand excitedly. “If my mom knows about this in heaven, she’ll definitely come thank you personally.” “Just tell her thanks for me. The personal visit really isn’t necessary.” My bus arrived. I ran over and sincerely thanked him one more time. That afternoon, I endured more insults than I had in my entire life. Liam was brilliant, handsome, and from a good family, but he had almost zero girls chasing him because his mouth was absolutely toxic. However, amidst the barrage of insults, I managed to complete an entire practice exam for the first time in my life. I never knew solving math problems could feel so rewarding. By the time I got home, Chloe’s birthday party was already over. As soon as I walked in, my dad hurried over, put a finger to his lips in a “shh” gesture, and pointed to Chloe’s room. That’s when I heard muffled crying coming from inside. “She invited a friend, but they didn’t show up. She’s really upset right now, so don’t provoke her.” I pushed past him and went into my own room. A little while later, my dad knocked and came in. “How’s the hand? What did the doctor say?” He pulled a delicate gift box from behind his back. “Daddy bought this specially for you.” It was definitely a hair clip. I had already received countless identical ones. Every time he lost his temper at me because of Chloe, he would buy something to placate me. It was never anything expensive, nothing compared to Chloe’s gifts, but he always wrapped it himself beautifully, making it seem like he deeply cherished and valued this daughter of his. But I had always been so pathetic. Every time I received one, my resentment toward him would vanish. I would sit happily in the corner, telling myself that he definitely loved me, and that he only treated Chloe so well because she was sick. “Thanks.” I took the gift, tossed it casually onto my desk, and went back to my practice exams. He stood beside me, watching for a long time, before finally sighing and leaving. When I came out of the shower, Chloe was standing by my desk, wearing her new dress. She didn’t notice me come in. She was engrossed in examining my test paper, her hands trembling slightly. “Who told you to come in here?” She turned around, a beat too slow, her eyes red. That’s when I saw that she was holding the test paper I had snatched from Liam. “Wh-where did you get this?” A teenage girl’s crush is always so obvious. Actually, I had noticed her infatuation with Liam long before she did. “Do you think I stole it?” I slowly walked up to her and took the paper back. There was no name on it, yet she recognized it instantly. She really liked him, huh? “Serena,” she quickly changed the subject, realizing she had lost her composure. “I brought you some cake. I saved a piece just for you.” She held the cake out carefully, looking at me. “Thanks, but Liam and I grabbed dinner while we were out. I’m stuffed.” Her smile almost shattered, but she tried desperately to maintain it. “O-oh, really? Then… I’ll just put it in the fridge for now.” Watching her practically flee the room, I felt a fleeting sense of vindication, but the thrill of revenge disappeared almost as quickly as it came. For the past few years, Chloe had tried every possible way to suck up to me and my mom. No matter how much I bullied her, she would just wipe her tears away in secret and go right back to following me around, sweetly calling me “big sister.” But no matter how hard she tried, it couldn’t cover up the fact that because of her, our family had fallen apart. The next day, as soon as I got to class, Liam brazenly walked over and snatched my backpack. “Let me check if you slacked off last night.” Then, as he reviewed my incorrect answers, he proceeded to call me a pig. I glanced up and saw Chloe watching Liam, looking quite pitiful. Just like that, she felt wronged? Maybe I should act even more intimate with Liam. That would definitely cause her more pain. But somehow, I just couldn’t bring myself to do it. In the end, I just quietly sat down at my desk. “How did you get this question wrong? Do you actually have no brain, or are you just doing this to piss me off?” I rested my head on the desk and answered honestly, “I actually have no brain.” Liam froze, coughed twice, and surprisingly, started explaining the problem to me. With Liam’s help, my grades improved relatively quickly. By the time the first mock exams were over, I was no longer dead last in the class. The teacher even gave me a certificate of commendation and asked me to bring my dad in so she could present it to me in front of him. I hadn’t received an academic award since I started my rebellious phase. “My dad doesn’t have time.” The teacher looked disappointed. But when I got home, I found my dad had cooked a massive feast, saying he wanted to celebrate my progress. Seeing Chloe standing next to him, I instantly knew what was going on. “Serena, Dad made all of this especially for you.” I glanced at the table full of bland, mild dishes. Made for me? “Let’s eat.” I ate the tasteless food and went to my room. I heard Chloe mutter softly, “Why does Serena seem unhappy?” My dad replied, “Your sister has always had a bad temper. She’s moody. Just ignore her.” Just as I was about to fall asleep, my dad knocked and came in. He praised my progress again and promised to make me nutritious meals every day. “If you have something to say, just say it.” He didn’t get angry that I interrupted his empty promises. He thought for a dozen seconds before saying, “I remember your mom left behind two gold bracelets, right?” 4 My heart instantly leaped into my throat. I stared at him warily. “Chloe’s surgery was successful, but she still needs to take medication for a while. So Dad was thinking…” “Don’t even think about it.” To pay for Chloe’s medical bills, we had sold everything of value in the house. Those two gold bracelets, left by my grandmother, were the only things my mom managed to keep—and only because she fought with him so fiercely she almost jumped off a building. They were the only memento I had left of my mother, aside from a pile of old hand-me-down clothes and shoes. “Don’t worry, once Chloe is better, Dad will definitely return them to you.” I stood up, trying my hardest to control my fury. “How will you return them? Those were left to me by my mother! Could you possibly buy the exact same ones back?” “No, no, no,” he waved his hands frantically. “Dad will buy you an even better pair.” “Get out.” I pointed to the door. “Do you have any conscience at all?! For the past few years, for the sake of Chloe, what kind of life did my mom and I live?! Now she’s dead, and you’re still eyeing her things? Are you even human?!” His face instantly turned cold, but a few seconds later, he was back to playing the good guy. “It’s true that Dad wronged you both these past few years. But Chloe is the sister you grew up with. Are you really going to stand by and watch her die?” “What does it matter to me if she lives or dies?!” I screamed at him, my voice cracking. “It’d be better if she did die!” SMACK!!! I lost my balance and crashed to the floor. The left side of my face went numb instantly, and my ears rang. It took a long time for the dizziness to fade, followed by a burning, searing pain in my cheek. “Is that how a daughter should act?! I only came to discuss this with you because I have such a good temper.” He pushed past me, ready to search the room. But even after tearing my room apart, he couldn’t find the two bracelets. “Where are they?” “I sold them.” “Where’s the money?” I gave him a cold smile. “I spent it all.” “You…” He raised his hand to hit me again, but Chloe suddenly rushed in and grabbed him. “Dad, I still have medicine left. Don’t hit Serena.” I didn’t know how much sincerity was in her plea, and I didn’t care. Richard Sterling pointed a trembling finger at me. “Get out of my house.” I slowly stood up, shoved my few items of clothing into my backpack, and grabbed my ID. “Did you actually think I wanted to stay in this house?” If my mom’s memory wasn’t tied to this place, I wouldn’t have wanted to look at them for another second. I slung my backpack over my shoulder and strode toward the door. Richard yelled after me, “If you walk out that door today, don’t ever think about coming back!” “Don’t worry,” I said without breaking my stride. “I won’t be coming back.” 5 I went to my uncle’s house and begged him to help me rent a place. I told him I could pay for it, but I was afraid of getting scammed since I didn’t know how renting worked. My money was my lifeblood right now. I couldn’t afford to lose a single cent. My uncle was furious. “That old bastard. Your mom just died, and he treats you like this.” He wanted me to live with him, but his house was just too far from my high school. He had to ask a friend and eventually rented a small, ground-floor room in an alleyway, very close to the school. My uncle took one look at the conditions and tried to pull me away. “How can you live here? You even have to go outside to use the bathroom.” I practically had to beg him to let me stay. He finally compromised but insisted on paying the rent himself. “Don’t worry about the money. Just promise me that when you become successful, you’ll come back and visit your uncle more often.” From now on, my uncle was my only family. He was also holding onto the few mementos my mom left behind; otherwise, Richard would have ransacked them long ago to buy medicine for Chloe. My eyes welled with tears. I bowed deeply to him. “I promise I will study hard.” I settled into my new place. To my surprise, the first uninvited guest to my little shack was Chloe. She carried a massive bag filled with daily necessities—exactly the things I needed. She set the things on the floor. “Serena, see if there’s anything else you need. I’ll bring it over tomorrow.” I looked her in the eye, wanting nothing more than to laugh. “You finally managed to kick me and my mom out. Are you proud of yourself?” She froze, then lowered her head. “I’m sorry.” I hated it when she acted like this. She was the vile intruder, yet she acted like we were the ones bullying her. “Serena, whether you believe it or not, I never wanted to take anything away from you. I just… I just wanted to…” She didn’t finish her sentence. “I’m sorry.” She suddenly bowed a full ninety degrees to me. “I am truly sorry.” With that, she scurried away like a gust of wind. True to her word, she brought another large bag of things the next day. This time, she just left it at the door and hurried off without coming in. Since she was giving it away, I wasn’t going to refuse. I was incredibly short on money. Saving even a penny was a win. After a period of grueling effort, my grades finally managed to reach the lower-middle of the pack. The teacher said that if I performed exceptionally well on the actual college entrance exams, I might be able to scrape into a low-tier university. I knew that was a very polite way of putting it. But my funds definitely wouldn’t cover repeating a year of high school. After school one afternoon, Richard suddenly appeared at the school gates. It wasn’t unusual. In the past, he often came to pick up Chloe and would check on me in passing. “Serena.” As I walked past him, he suddenly called out to me. “Where have you been living these past few days?” He jogged over to me. “How are you eating? You haven’t been home for days. Dad is worried.” “What do you want this time?” I looked myself up and down. “Want me to sell my blood or sell myself to pay for your precious daughter’s medical bills?” Richard shook his head vigorously. “How… how could you think of Dad like that?” “Isn’t that what you’ve been doing for the past few years?” He seemed to recall something, and his face drained of color. “Your boundless love and selflessness were fueled by my mother’s flesh and blood. Now that she’s dead, you’re targeting me?” More and more students were gathering around, but I had absolutely no intention of saving his face. “If you’re so devoted, if you loved Chloe’s mom so much, why did you marry my mom? Why did you even have me?” My questions forced him to take a few steps back. His body trembled as if under an unbearable weight. “I get it now.” I relished his pathetic state, laughing sarcastically. “Because you needed someone to carry on your family name, and you needed someone to serve your parents.” Richard shook his head frantically. “No, Serena, when I married your mom, I truly had feelings for her. Dad loves you. You have to believe me. It’s just… I owe Chloe too much. You’ll understand in the future.” “Heh, I don’t want to understand. Whatever your reasons, they don’t change the damage you caused to my mother and me.” I tried to walk away, but Richard chased after me. “Hop on.” Liam appeared out of nowhere, patting the back seat of his bicycle. “What are you waiting for?” I glanced at Richard behind me and quickly jumped on. Unusually, Liam was silent the whole way. He didn’t insult me, nor did he interrupt as I secretly shed a few tears. “You live here?” “Yeah.” He took a look around. “Not bad. Fits the ‘starving student’ aesthetic.” There it was. He could never go too long without being obnoxious. As he was leaving, he pulled a thick stack of practice exams from his bag and tossed them into my arms. “Study hard. Don’t waste such a perfect environment.” With that, he rode off. A sudden warmth bloomed in my chest, and my nose stung. Aside from my own father, everyone else was doing their best to help me. I don’t know what suddenly got into Richard, but he started coming to my school every day. He brought me restorative soups and home-cooked meals. Sometimes, he would even track down my teachers to ask about my progress. But every time they finished talking, the teachers would look at me with eyes full of deep pity. My literature grades had always been good, and my literature teacher had always put in a good word for me with the other staff. During evening study hall, she called me into her office. Richard was there too. But when the teacher asked me several questions in a row, he looked incredibly embarrassed. “She is your daughter! How can you, as a father, not know the answer to a single question?” She angrily popped open the lunchbox he brought. “Even I know Serena is allergic to celery!” Richard hastily closed the lunchbox. When he looked at me, his expression was pained. “Have a good talk with your dad. He said you blocked his number.” In the past, my literature teacher always played the peacemaker, advising me not to hold grudges against my only living parent. This time, she just shook her head and walked out of the office. “Can you stop interrupting my studies?” I cut straight to the chase. “Your attempts to make amends are worthless to me, and they’re just causing me trouble. If you think the damage of all these years can be erased with a few meals and some fake concern, then I really have nothing to say.” He stared intently into my eyes and mumbled, “You look more and more like your mother.” “Don’t bring up my mom.” For a while, I couldn’t figure out why he had suddenly changed his tune. Today, I finally understood. “I heard my uncle kicked you out. So you’re trying to drag me back, hoping he’ll start paying for you guys again, right?” The day after I left, my uncle went to their landlord and refused to renew the lease, forcing Richard and Chloe to move out immediately. The two of them were now squeezed into a tiny, cheap room in a remote part of the city, far away from the school. Because of this, Chloe had been late to class frequently over the past few days. Just looking at his haggard face and his stained suit jacket was enough to tell me how miserable they had been. “Is that really what you think of me?” His eyes turned red, and his voice choked up. “I didn’t realize how much you hated me. That day I went into your room… you didn’t take a single thing I bought for you. That’s when I finally realized what I did wrong all these years. Serena, you are the only blood relative I have left in this world.” As he spoke, he covered his face and began to weep. It was the first time I had ever seen him cry. In the past, all he had to do was offer a seemingly sincere “I’m sorry,” and I would eagerly script an entire fantasy of a loving father-daughter relationship in my head. But when disappointment piles up high enough, you stop believing in anything. “Just leave. Your daughter’s name is Chloe. From now on, I have absolutely nothing to do with you. If you truly feel sorry for me, then leave me alone. Never let me see your face again.” I turned and walked away, leaving Richard’s sobs behind me. My literature teacher was standing by the door. She just patted my shoulder. “Go study.” After that day, Richard never came looking for me again. But every week, a sum of money would appear in my bank account. Chloe became isolated.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “391507”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

My sister and I were adopted from the orphanage. My sister chose the Sterlings, a family with unmatched wealth and power. But the heir of the Sterling family had a twisted personality and tortured her every day. Meanwhile, I chose the ordinary Mercer family. Although their wealth couldn’t compare to the Sterlings, they treated me incredibly well. The young master of the Mercer family later became a business magnate and married me, giving me a life of absolute bliss. Driven mad by jealousy, my sister secretly strangled me to death. When I opened my eyes again, my sister didn’t hesitate to steal the life I had lived. She chose the Mercer family. “It’s your turn to be tortured this time, little sister.” I almost laughed out loud. Did she really think the young master of the Mercer family was a good person? 1. I was reborn, back to the day my sister Chloe and I were being adopted. “Sir, I’m obedient and I can do chores. Please adopt me.” Beside me, Chloe grabbed the hand of Vincent, the young master of the Mercer family. So, she had been reborn too. “Little girl, didn’t you just say you liked our family?” a wealthy woman spoke up. She was Mrs. Sterling, mother to Arthur Sterling, the heir to a New York real estate empire. Arthur himself wasn’t present. “I suddenly don’t like your family anymore. Is that a problem?” Chloe said, shrinking behind Vincent. Mrs. Sterling looked a bit annoyed. “Someone as fickle as you isn’t fit to enter the Sterling family anyway!” Then, she looked at me gently. “Sweetheart, come with me. We have a big brother at home for you, too.” I nodded and reached out my hand. Chloe’s eyes were full of triumph. She seemed very satisfied with my reaction. But what she didn’t know was that compared to the eccentric billionaire heir, I was far more terrified of the venomous snake that was Vincent Mercer. In my past life, I desperately tried to escape him. This time, she actually did me a huge favor. As I walked to the door with Mrs. Sterling, she went to pull the car around. Chloe suddenly walked up to me, her eyes brimming with contempt. “It’s your turn to be tortured this time, little sister.” I ignored her. Because to me, she was acting like an absolute clown right now! She thought this was a new beginning. But she had no idea she was jumping from one fire pit into an even deadlier inferno. 2. After being taken to the Sterling estate in the Hamptons, Mrs. Sterling gave me my own suite and hired private tutors for piano, dance, and etiquette. She told me, “Sweetheart, to be honest, I adopted a daughter because I wanted to raise the perfect daughter-in-law.” “You need to work hard now. Arthur is coming back from studying abroad in a month. As long as he takes a liking to you, your life will be perfect. After all, the entire Sterling empire will be his.” In our past life, Arthur didn’t like Chloe, which made her life miserable. I didn’t dare to hope that the aloof, aristocratic heir would fall for me. I had to rely on other methods to secure my future. A month later, the Sterlings hosted a grand banquet. It was to celebrate Arthur’s return to New York. Many elite families were invited, including the Mercers, who had business ties with the Sterlings. Chloe spotted me immediately and walked toward me in a white princess dress. “Little sister, today is going to be the most humiliating moment of your life.” In our past life, this banquet was where she first met Arthur. The moment Arthur saw her, he frowned. Then he told her to get lost in front of everyone. When she shamelessly clung to him, claiming to be his future wife, Arthur literally kicked her away. 3. Since I was also reborn, I already knew how this would play out and had prepared a backup plan. Chloe thought I would share her past-life fate. But I was about to disappoint her. Before Arthur could enter the banquet hall, I cornered him in a private lounge. It was our first time meeting. He was a full head taller than me, his handsome face utterly indifferent. Tsk, he really is unapproachable. I handed him a business proposal. “I know you have a new project and aren’t sure how to operate it. This is my plan. I guarantee it will turn a massive profit.” Growing up in the foster system, I only had a high school diploma, but I had a brilliant mind for business. In my past life, Vincent only became a business magnate because I was the mastermind behind his success. “How do you know about my new project?” Arthur took the folder, his long fingers flipping through a few pages. In my past life, this project belonged to Vincent. Back then, when I first moved into his house, he treated me well. So I used my own proposal to win this contract for him. But without me in this life, I discovered the project had landed in Arthur’s lap. “I did my research,” I smiled. “Mr. Sterling, I can draft project proposals for you from now on.” “But on one condition: we play nice in front of your family, but privately, we mind our own business.” Arthur was a businessman; he valued profit above all. If I could bring him value, he would surely be tempted. Just as I thought he would agree, he raised an eyebrow at me. “I get it. You want to trade your cooperation for a peaceful life here. Right?” “But didn’t my mother tell you she didn’t adopt a daughter, she adopted a bride?” “I know. So what’s your point?” I looked at him in confusion. He smirked and closed the folder. “Your proposal is excellent. But once you marry me, your proposals will belong to me anyway.” With that, he walked out. I stood there, still processing his words. What did he mean? Did he actually like me? No! He definitely just wanted to trap me into writing business plans for him forever. That had to be it. 4. When we entered the main hall, Mrs. Sterling pulled me along, introducing me to the elders. “This is my future daughter-in-law. She has a wonderful personality and is absolutely gorgeous.” Everyone showered me with praise. Nearby, Chloe stood next to Vincent, glaring at me with dark, brooding eyes. She walked over with a champagne glass and looked at Mrs. Sterling. “Mrs. Sterling, I heard Arthur just returned from abroad. Have he and my sister met yet?” “Does he actually approve of this ‘future wife’?” During the adoption, Chloe had already left a terrible impression on Mrs. Sterling. Hearing her speak now, Mrs. Sterling’s eyes flashed with displeasure. “Mind your own business!” “Our family matters are none of your concern. Who do you think you are?” Vincent’s face went pale. “I’m so sorry, Mrs. Sterling. My sister doesn’t know her place.” As he said that, no one noticed the brief flash of malice in his eyes. But I had seen that look countless times in my past life. Every time, it signaled the start of a nightmare. Terrified, I took a step back and accidentally bumped into a warm chest. I turned around and saw Arthur. “Careful.” His eyes were filled with amusement, and his voice was as gentle as water. Chloe looked like she was about to explode. She was definitely wondering why Arthur was treating me so well. “Mr. Sterling, do you really like my sister?” “Do you know she’s an orphan? And that she was almost sexually assaulted?!” Chloe’s words plunged the entire hall into dead silence. Back at the foster home, an older man had snuck into my room and ripped my clothes. He tried to assault me, but I fought him off by smashing a vase over his head. Afterward, Chloe spread rumors that I had been violated. Later, she whispered to me, “Sister, guess who paid that man to do it?” That was when I realized she had set me up. Thinking of this, my fists clenched tightly. I was about to speak, but Arthur beat me to it. “Is that so?” He looked at Chloe. Chloe looked incredibly smug. “Yes! Lily was used by an old man—” Before she could finish, Arthur delivered a vicious kick, sending her flying backward. Instantly, all eyes in the room snapped toward them. Vincent looked humiliated. “Mr. Sterling, please calm down. It’s my fault for not disciplining my sister properly.” “If I ever hear her slandering my fiancée again, I’ll make sure she can’t survive in New York.” “Actually, no. Your entire Mercer family will be banished from this city.” “You really need to teach this sister of yours a lesson.” Arthur’s voice was frighteningly cold. Vincent quickly bowed. “You are absolutely right, Mr. Sterling. I’ll teach her a lesson right now.” Smack! Smack! Smack! Vincent marched over and slapped Chloe across the face, left and right. “Ah! Stop hitting me! It hurts…” Chloe’s screams echoed through the grand hall. Mrs. Sterling also spoke up. “I have officially acknowledged her as my daughter-in-law. From now on, remember her name is Lily Sterling. If I hear anyone bullying her, I will pay them back tenfold!” “Feel better?” Arthur whispered, pulling me close. “That was incredibly satisfying!” I felt like I could finally breathe freely. 5. Thanks to the scene Chloe caused, Arthur and I grew much closer. Plus, everyone now knew I was the future Mrs. Sterling and treated me with utmost respect. As for Chloe, she was dragged away by a furious Vincent. In our past life, Vincent hadn’t revealed his true nature this early. But because of today’s humiliation, his mask slipped prematurely. I knew Chloe’s nightmare was about to begin. I wondered if she could handle it. Over the following weeks, Chloe didn’t bother me once. I used the time to look for ways to make money, planning to eventually leave the city. Because having been reborn, I learned one crucial truth. Relying on yourself is the only way to survive! But while I was job hunting, Arthur reached out to me. He texted: Come work at my company. I’ll pay you $10,000 a month, plus a year-end bonus. This was perfect. I needed a high-paying job. I gladly accepted. However, on my way there, someone suddenly clamped a hand over my mouth. When I woke up, I was in a filthy public restroom. The floor was covered in slippery grime and reeked of sewage. Standing in front of me was the same man who had tried to assault me at the foster home. He bared his yellow teeth in a vulgar grin: “Once I’m done with you, you won’t be fit to be the Sterling family’s wife.” “Oh, by the way, I forgot to tell you. I already notified the Sterlings to come here.” I smiled: “Looks like that vase to the head didn’t hurt enough last time.” “What do you mean?” I pushed myself off the floor and pulled a gleaming, razor-sharp knife from my pocket. “Did you really think I’d fall for the same trick twice?” With that, I ruthlessly slashed my own arm. Blood poured out instantly. I even smeared it all over my clothes and body. Just then, the door was pushed open. “Mr. Sterling, please don’t be mad at my sister. She was just lonely and looking for a man—” Chloe froze mid-sentence when she saw me covered in blood. 6. “Arthur, he stabbed me! Am I going to die…?” Tears instantly spilled from my eyes as I looked pitifully at Arthur. His face drastically changed. He rushed over and scooped me into his arms. Mrs. Sterling, standing nearby, burst into tears of panic. “Lily, don’t be scared! We’re taking you to the hospital!” Chloe stood frozen in place. As Arthur carried me past her, he delivered a lethal threat: “You arranged this, didn’t you? Just wait.” “No… Mr. Sterling, it wasn’t me.” Chloe instantly dropped to her knees, begging for mercy. But Arthur had already carried me away. After my wound was bandaged at the hospital, Arthur gripped my hand tightly. “Don’t ever take a risk like that again.” “Whatever revenge you want, I can do it for you.” My heart skipped a beat. He knew I did it on purpose. “How did you know?” “I know you too well.” “You clearly had the ability to fight back, but you didn’t. That means you injured yourself intentionally.” I had taken self-defense classes in my past life and had the ability to fight back. But we had only met a handful of times. How did he know me so well? “Don’t worry. No matter who hurt you, I’ll make them pay.” I nodded, staying silent. Last time, when Vincent dragged Chloe away, I knew she wouldn’t be able to resist seeking revenge. So, I had someone tail her. I discovered she was in contact with that man, plotting against me. So, I decided to beat her at her own game. The Sterlings were an elite family. They would never stand by and do nothing if their future daughter-in-law was harmed. That was why I injured myself. I wanted to use the Sterlings’ power to crush Chloe and the Mercers. After all, I clearly remembered every single thing they did to me in my past life. 7. Vincent brought Chloe to apologize to me. They carried stacks of expensive gifts and knelt at the entrance of the Sterling estate. Chloe wore a face mask, her eyes filled with defiance. Vincent slapped her hard across the face. “Stop glaring! All you do is glare. Believe me, I’ll gouge your eyes out!” “If I knew you were like this, my family would have never adopted you!” Chloe trembled in fear. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I won’t glare anymore.” Watching this from the second-floor balcony, I burst out laughing. Chloe surely hadn’t expected that stealing my life would still result in her being tortured. Because she didn’t know that Vincent was a venomous snake. And the Mercer parents only adopted a daughter to give their twisted son a new toy to play with. I remembered it all too well. I remembered exactly how brutally I was tortured in my past life. Chloe was wearing long sleeves, pants, and a mask. She was definitely hiding bruises. I went downstairs and opened the door. “Sister, what brings you here?” “Lily, your sister and I came to apologize. Please be the bigger person and forgive him. Ask Mr. Sterling to continue his partnership with us. My family’s company is on the verge of bankruptcy.” Vincent looked at me with a pathetic expression. Seeing his face made me sick to my stomach! How could I ever accept their apology? “I don’t accept.” “Lily, don’t push your luck—” Chloe swallowed the rest of her words when she saw Arthur walk out. “Mr. Sterling, I really didn’t hire that man the other day.” “That man already confessed at the police station. Are you sure you want to keep lying?” Arthur raised an eyebrow at her. She hurriedly apologized: “I… I’m sorry, Mr. Sterling. I had a moment of foolishness.” Then she looked at me, crying: “Sister, we grew up together. Please, be the bigger person and let me go.” I reached out and ripped her mask off. Her face was covered in bruises and cuts. I smiled softly: “Sister, seeing you so miserable puts my mind at ease.” Hearing this, the fury in her eyes flared up instantly. But with Arthur standing right there, she didn’t dare lash out. I told her I wouldn’t be soft-hearted. She hurt me, and I couldn’t just let it go. 8. A week later, the Mercer family’s company declared bankruptcy. In my past life, their company flourished because of me. But in this life, Chloe’s “brilliant” moves drove them straight into the ground. I heard that Vincent had fully unleashed his true nature. He beat Chloe daily and locked her inside the house. Meanwhile, I worked peacefully every day, making a lot of money working for Arthur. I assumed Arthur treated me well simply because he appreciated my business talents. He couldn’t possibly have real feelings for me. So, my plan was still to save enough money and leave. But Arthur seemed to be completely serious about me. One day, while I was handing him some documents, he suddenly pulled me into his arms. “The wedding is set for next month. Do you want to go try on wedding dresses?” I was stunned. “You’re serious?” “Of course.” He took my hand, gently tracing my fingers. “I made up my mind the first time I saw you.” “Lily, I promise to treat you well.” Why was this Arthur so different from the one in my past life? Still, needing his protection to ensure my peaceful life at the Sterling estate, I agreed.

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At my husband’s funeral, everyone tried to comfort me, telling me not to be sad. But I wasn’t sad. After the funeral, I worked five straight days of overtime. Reeking of the office, my mother-in-law forced me to go home and rest. She told me I had to look forward. Of course I had to look forward. I even had blind dates to go on. 1 It was my first time attending a funeral, and the main character was Liam Hayes. It felt incredibly weird. I chose the photo myself. A normally serious man, pushing his nose up to make a silly, ugly face. It was one of the very few photos where he was goofing off. I thought my mother-in-law would blame me, and that relatives and friends would say I was disrespecting the deceased, but no one seemed upset. They approached me carefully, their eyes darting away, afraid to make eye contact. So annoying. I turned my head, smiled at my husband lying in the casket, and said, “Hey, nobody told me funerals were like this?” So novel. “My condolences, Sarah,” my sister-in-law said, patting my shoulder. “My brother wouldn’t want you to be this heartbroken.” I found it funny. I earnestly searched my mind for any trace of emotion and shook my head. “I’m not heartbroken.” She sighed. “Don’t be like this. It… it makes me hurt for you.” My mother-in-law also pressed my shoulders, urging me to go rest on the side. “Mom, I’m not tired,” I said, spinning around in front of her. “Look, I’m full of energy. I could wrestle a bear.” I almost felt like this was just a normal banquet, it was just a pity I had to stand and couldn’t go down and eat. I saw the coral grouper earlier. That’s my favorite fish. I’ll definitely pack a few in plastic bags later. Oh, and the mixed salad. I heard the chef here is amazing at cold dishes, so I specifically ordered it. Grumble… My stomach growled. I rubbed my stomach and giggled foolishly. Under everyone’s sympathetic gaze, I stood for 28 hours straight, not feeling sleepy at all. Unfortunately, by the time dawn broke and the crematorium staff arrived, I still hadn’t had time to eat from that banquet table. No other reason than there were too many trivial things to deal with. I complained to the casket, “This is too much trouble. Good thing you’ll only bother me with this once. Hmph.” I chose the most expensive urn for Liam, and even put his favorite cologne inside. It was a custom-made cologne he bought casually on the street—a light, woody scent. Liam used it for many years. He said the scent was like him, gently seeping into the fabric. I didn’t understand what he meant. I just felt that even if he wore the most disgusting smell, I would still love it. What can I say? The filter of true love is strong; it even affects your sense of smell. The lid closed, and the fragrance faded. I calmly handled the final arrangements and hurried home to change clothes. I smelled terrible, so I took a long, hot bath. My boss called. “Sarah, your husband just passed. Don’t rush back to work. I’m giving you a few days off.” But corporate slaves don’t deserve rest. When I showed up at the office for overtime, my coworker, Linda, shivered. “Sarah, are you okay? Didn’t your husband…” I was very impatient. I’d been explaining to people non-stop these past few days that my husband died. How could this coworker forget again?! I stared intently at my computer, typing out a proposal. “Mr. Peterson is coming over in two days. If I don’t keep an eye on this, everyone’s year-end bonus is going to vanish.” She let out a weird yelp and ran out holding her coffee. My boss pressed down on my shoulder. “Don’t rush. The work is never-ending. You had a family tragedy; you need to take a couple of days off…” “Sigh, I’m fine. I’ve got plenty of energy.” I ran my fingers through my hair, continuously editing the proposal. He sighed, and the office returned to silence. 2 The office was dead silent. The sound of my typing grew louder and louder. It felt like there was a fire in my chest, and I didn’t know how to let it out. I wanted to slack off and look at my phone for a bit. I swiped to a funny video and wanted to share it, but suddenly remembered I had no one to share it with. I pondered for a moment, then took Liam’s phone out of my pocket and texted myself: “Wifey, wifey, why aren’t you home yet?” I replied: “Be good, the project bonus is twenty grand! Once I get the bonus, I’ll take you on a trip to Hawaii.” Much better. I put down the phone and kept typing. At 2:30 AM, I sent a text to Mr. Peterson. [Mr. Peterson, when are you available to come over and discuss the contract?] I waited ten minutes. The phone was as quiet as a mouse. I couldn’t help but call him. Mr. Peterson replied, his voice heavy with sleep, “I’ve had some family matters recently. Let’s talk in a couple of days, okay? It’s so late, Sarah, aren’t you tired?” Family matters? Could his family matters be bigger than Sarah’s family matters? I poked at my phone, furious. My husband died, and even I wasn’t as busy as him. But I couldn’t complain to a client. Since he didn’t have time, I continued to refine the proposal, typing out every minor detail I could think of, and even preparing five or six backup plans. I hadn’t slept for almost a week, but my energy was still high. The city night was silent. I stood by the floor-to-ceiling window holding my coffee, looking down at the entire city. In the dark office, the faint glow from the computer screen illuminated my face. I looked at my reflection in the glass. I just passed my thirtieth birthday, and I didn’t look much older. After pulling so many all-nighters, my face hadn’t sagged, and my dark circles weren’t that bad. I marveled at myself—I truly had the innate physique of a corporate workhorse. My phone alarm went off, reminding me it was time to take my folic acid. Liam and I had been doing well in our careers recently, so we started preparing for pregnancy, getting everything ready to welcome a new life. Expressionless, I tossed the folic acid into the trash can. My chest twitched with pain, but I still wasn’t sad. Birth, aging, sickness, and death are just parts of the human experience. The office lights flicked on. My mother-in-law and my boss walked in from outside. “Sarah, I’ve asked your boss for a month of leave. You are going home to rest right now, and the company won’t let you back in.” My mother-in-law cracked her knuckles. “Don’t make me call some people to drag you back.” “Don’t worry, Sarah,” my boss assured me. “This project with Mr. Peterson is your hard work. When the contract is signed, the commission goes to you. The team has already reached a consensus.” I was too familiar with their expressions—pure sympathy. I wanted to explain that I really wasn’t sad, but after opening my mouth a few times, I finally nodded in agreement. I grabbed my car keys, ready to drive home, but my mother-in-law snatched them away. “How long has it been since you slept? Letting you drive—do you want to kill me?” My mother-in-law had kids early; she was only 55 now. Her hair wasn’t entirely white, and her well-maintained face had very few wrinkles. She was a doctor. Every day her hair was meticulously combed, and she rarely smiled. When I first met her, I was quite anxious. It was Liam who comforted me. “My mom is a great person, she just has a sharp tongue but a soft heart. Once you figure out her temper, you’ll be fine.” Then he immediately told his mom to be nicer to me, saying I wasn’t one of the interns in her department. She sat behind the steering wheel, her back straight, her glasses reflecting the streetlights. “Go home and get a good sleep. What needs to pass, will pass.” Her eyes were slightly red. The moment she looked down, she seemed utterly exhausted. The wrinkles at the corners of her eyes had deepened at some point, revealing her age. “It’s all over. He passed without pain, that’s a good thing too.” I took a deep breath, staring at the safety charm hanging from the rearview mirror. 3 I slept for less than five hours. When I woke up, my heart felt like it was being squeezed by something heavy—sour, tight, and a little painful. It scared me enough to go to the hospital for a check-up. Sinus arrhythmia. Nothing major. The doctor told me to stop staying up late. I originally wanted to go to the company, but remembering I had a month-long vacation, I suddenly felt lost. For the past few years, Liam and I rarely rested. We often complained about not having enough alone time, our lives filled to the brim with work. The week before the accident, we worked like crazy to take our annual leave early and go somewhere for a couple of days. Liam still had a half-finished itinerary on his phone. Thinking of this, I pulled out my laptop and finished the itinerary. Even after finishing it, I still felt hyperactive. The events of the past few days looped in my mind like a carousel. I touched my chest, feeling like I must be sick. Otherwise, why didn’t I know how to be sad? I looked in the mirror, trying to squeeze out a tear, but only managed an ugly, forced smile. My mom called to comfort me, subtly hinting that I shouldn’t remain a widow forever. I laughed and retorted, “What era is this? Does a woman still have to stay chaste after her husband dies?” I tossed my instant noodles onto the coffee table, turned around, and bought a premium membership on a dating site. The steam from the beef noodle soup clouded my eyes. Suddenly, the usually mild noodles tasted incredibly spicy today. I chugged the noodle broth and coughed violently from the spice. 4 Liam and I fell in love naturally; I had never been on a blind date before. The first time felt quite novel. On TV, blind dates always happened in cafes, so I arranged to meet the guy at a cafe near my house. The man who showed up was middle-aged. Not bald, not ugly, and dressed appropriately. Compared to my pajamas and slippers, his suit and tie were excessively formal. I frowned, looking him up and down. He just rubbed me the wrong way. “My situation is all in the profile. I’m 35, divorced, no kids, an executive at a multinational company, making $300k a year…” So this is what a blind date is like. I rested my chin on my hand, looking amused. “Mr. Miller, you look decent enough. Are you interested in getting double eyelid surgery? I prefer men with monolids or hidden double eyelids. I don’t have many demands; once we’re together, just get the surgery done.” He froze. He looked me up and down. “Are you sick in the head?” I felt very offended. We just met, how could he just open his mouth and insult me? He also felt offended. He stood up and left without even paying for his coffee. Cheapskate. 5 Liam’s eyes were beautiful. When he looked down at people, it always gave the illusion of deep affection. I always thought he had monolids until we got together and I realized they were hidden double eyelids. When we were intimate, my favorite thing to do was touch his eyelids. I knew exactly where the scar on the corner of his eye was. This guy wasn’t cooperative; he wasn’t my type. Liam and I used to come to this cafe all the time. On our rare days off, we would sit at this window seat. He would look at his laptop, I would read a book. Occasionally, our eyes would meet, we’d share a knowing smile, and then go back to doing our own thing. This place was like our secret base, full of memories. “Hey, I brought a stranger here,” I muttered to myself, touching the glass. When paying, I complained to the barista, “The coffee today has no flavor. Make it stronger next time.” Lately, I couldn’t taste anything. This black coffee tasted just like water. If Liam were still here, he’d probably make a huge fuss and take me to the hospital, afraid I had caught some weird disease. I couldn’t help but smile. Once, I got a paper cut. He was so terrified he took me to the hospital to get it bandaged. The doctor complained, “There’s not even any blood. If you had waited a bit longer, it would have healed itself.” I teased him about it for days. He was still self-righteous about it: “What if you got tetanus? Wouldn’t that be worse?” Walking home, I went to the ground floor to buy cologne like usual, only to find the perfume shop had become a nail salon. The layout of the perfume shop was still there, and the air still carried a faint fragrance, but the owner was nowhere to be found. I asked the nail technicians for the previous owner’s contact info, but they didn’t know. The familiar scent was fading, and a sense of panic gripped my heart.

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Arthur Sterling wanted to divorce me for his delicate, white-lotus first love. Even our child had taken a special liking to her. When I heard him carefully call that woman “Mom,” my heart went completely cold, and I signed the divorce papers. Years later, I returned to the country for a gathering. A strange young boy timidly called me “Mom.” My daughter asked curiously, “Is he Evelyn’s big brother?” I shook my head. “Mom only has one child in this life, and that’s Evelyn.” 1 Everyone was thrilled to see the little blonde girl by my side. Madison nudged me with her elbow. “Where’d you kidnap her from? She’s so cute.” Someone chimed in, “Yeah, seriously. Chloe, I didn’t expect you to become a human trafficker after a few years abroad.” I unceremoniously flicked them both on the forehead. “What kind of nonsense is that? This is my daughter.” I squatted down. “Don’t we look alike?” Evelyn played along, obediently pressing her little cheek against mine. The private room instantly went dead silent. I knew this news was a bit too shocking for them. My marriage to Arthur had only ended a few years ago. And my intense, high-profile pursuit of him back in the day was something everyone here had witnessed; many had even helped me strategize. I had kept my life abroad very private, so they all assumed I was still single. Or at least, not married with a kid. Madison looked like she wanted to swear, but seeing Evelyn, she swallowed the words. She turned around and made a phone call. “Yeah, tell the guys they don’t need to come over. Tonight’s not the right vibe.” I held back a laugh, looking at my old friends. “What? Are married women not welcome here?” My friends recovered from their shock and bombarded me with questions: “Who’d you marry? Is he handsome?” “Chloe, how could you snag a hot foreign guy and not tell us?!” “What’s your name, little one? Want Auntie to play with you?” “Hannah, stop talking in that gross baby voice.” “Screw off, leave me alone.” … I rubbed my temples helplessly. A decade later, and they were still just as noisy. Thankfully, Evelyn wasn’t shy. She happily played with my old friends. Madison pulled me aside for a drink. “Are you really over Arthur?” I smiled, showing her the ring on my finger. “What do you think?” She smacked her forehead. “Right, stupid question.” “Arthur was so dead-set on marrying that fragile little flower back then. Now he’s regretting it.” I raised an eyebrow. “He regrets it?” I hadn’t kept tabs on them since I went abroad, but Arthur regretting it was genuinely surprising. He loved Lily Evans to death back then. He was willing to fight the whole world to marry her. Madison nodded. “The white lotus is pretty, sure, but being Mrs. Sterling is too much for her to handle.” The title of ‘Mrs. Sterling’ didn’t just mean being Arthur’s wife; it carried significant responsibilities. “The Sterling family has a massive empire. It’s not easy to manage,” I said. “You have no idea. When the white lotus first married Arthur, she couldn’t do anything right. She messed everything up. Arthur was patient at first, but patience doesn’t equal time. Eventually, he just got sick of it. Men, right? Typical.” Madison’s tone dripped with sarcasm. She never liked Arthur to begin with. Ever since she took over her family’s business, she had cut off many of their partnerships with the Sterlings. In her eyes, a man who couldn’t keep his personal life straight couldn’t possibly run a corporation well. Madison waved her hand. “Whatever, let’s not talk about that dog.” Just as she finished speaking, the door to the private room suddenly opened. A strange boy, looking to be around ten or eleven, walked in. Madison looked toward the door impatiently. “Who’s that?” “Whose kid is lost?” The boy scanned the crowd frantically before his eyes locked onto me. Those beautiful eyes gave me a strange sense of familiarity. Someone in the crowd murmured, “Isn’t that Arthur’s oldest son?” Madison reacted faster than I did. “Oh, it’s Chloe’s kid! Arthur… Arthur what again?” A friend reminded her, “Arthur James Sterling.” Evelyn, who was playing happily, seemed to sense something. She looked left and right, her big eyes darting around. The boy walked toward me and called out timidly, “Mom.” 2 That single word, “Mom,” pulled me back several years. When Arthur brought up divorce, he didn’t give a reason. Madison did some digging for me and uncovered his first love, Lily Evans. I took the evidence and confronted Arthur. During the argument, a truth accidentally slipped out of him: “Yes, I love Lily! Even if I have a child with you, that child must carry the mark of her existence!” Only then did it all make sense. No wonder when we were naming our son, Arthur insisted on changing “Julian” to “James.” He said he hoped our son would be “Just,” noble, and righteous. But it wasn’t about justice. It was an anagram. “James” was for J-A-M-E-S. Just Always Miss Evans Secretly. Unlike what Madison and the others thought, from that day forward, my feelings for Arthur died completely. I loved Arthur, yes, but not enough to lose myself. I loved him, but I loved my dignity more. However, our marriage involved too many people. Just separating the assets took a massive amount of time. Arthur cheated first; I had to make sure I got the larger share. Back then, my biggest concern was my son, James. But from the very beginning, he didn’t want to leave with me. Maybe it was pity from above that made me suddenly stubborn, wanting to persuade James, wanting to fight for full custody. If it hadn’t been for that stubbornness, I never would have discovered that my dear son had already accepted Lily as his mother. If I hadn’t discovered that, I wouldn’t have left so cleanly, and I wouldn’t have started my new life so easily. After I confronted Arthur, he immediately moved Lily into our house under the guise of being James’s private tutor. Surprisingly, James adored ‘Ms. Lily’ and defended her at every turn. I heard him praise Ms. Lily more than once, saying she was gentle and pretty, understanding, considerate, and kind. But James was just a little kid back then. I thought Arthur had hidden the affair well, so I didn’t overthink it. Until I heard it with my own ears. He carefully asked Lily, “Ms. Lily, can I call you Mom?” After getting a yes, he happily called her “Mom” several times. He added, “Ms. Lily needs to become my new mom quickly. I hate my mom right now. I hope she and Dad get divorced soon.” Lily asked him why. “Because Mom won’t let me eat candy.” Lily sounded surprised. “Just because of that?” “Yes.” James’s decisive answer completely shattered me. I thought about a lot of things. I thought about my parenting style. I thought about my past. In the end, I signed the divorce papers without any lingering attachments and left the country. 3 Seeing that I wasn’t responding, James called out again, “Mom.” His eyes were red, and he looked incredibly pitiful. Evelyn suddenly threw herself into my arms. She stared at him with wide, curious eyes and asked, “Is he Evelyn’s big brother?” James froze, then quickly shifted his gaze back to me, his face filled with unconcealed hope. I smiled gently at Evelyn and shook my head. “Mom only has one child in this life, and that’s Evelyn.” “This brother is… the son of a friend of Mom’s. But of course, you can call him ‘brother’.” Half-understanding, Evelyn reached out a hand to James. “Hi brother, I’m Evelyn.” But James just stood there, frozen, ignoring her. Evelyn awkwardly pulled her hand back and rubbed her little nose. “Mom, why does he look like he just got struck by lightning?” I chuckled and rubbed her head. “Go play with your aunts and uncles.” “Okay!” The little girl ran off, cheering happily. James looked at me pitifully. “Mom, do you not want James anymore?” His tone was exactly the same as when he was a toddler, seemingly trying to awaken my maternal instincts. I smiled faintly. “You have your own mom.” James grew a bit agitated. “She’s not my mom.” “Why not?” He looked down and didn’t answer. I didn’t bother pressing him. My tone was gentle but distant: “James, you were the one who didn’t want me first.” James looked up, his eyes incredibly complex. It was the first time I had ever seen that look in his eyes. It wasn’t a look a boy his age should have. James lowered his gaze. “I’m sorry, Mom.” He found a corner to sit in by himself and didn’t bother me again. Madison sneered. “And here I thought the kid loved his fragile little stepmom.” “What do you mean?” I asked. “When the white lotus first got married, a lot of people looked down on her. Your son defended her everywhere, treating her like royalty. Didn’t you always say he was a good kid? So good he actually got into fights defending the white lotus.” “Raising a son is worse than raising a dog.” I smiled and took a sip of my drink. Madison didn’t say anything else, just drank with me. After so many years, seeing the son I barely recognized, it would be a lie to say I felt absolutely nothing. But our mother-son bond was thin, and this was James’s own choice. Besides, too many years had passed. The emotion faded as quickly as it came. When the party ended, James was still sitting there, refusing to leave. I tried to call his dad, but realized I had deleted the number. I tried to call his mom, but realized I never had her number to begin with. Madison boldly patted her chest. “Let me handle it.” She picked up her phone and scrolled through her contacts for a long time. “…He blocked me.” Evelyn was getting sleepy. She yawned. “Mom, let’s just leave him here, he won’t die. I want to go home and sleep.” Madison laughed. “Your kid is fierce.” I picked Evelyn up. “Takes after her dad.” Thankfully, a friend who had forgotten something came back and made the call for us. “James is currently at…” “No time? What should we do?” “Okay, I’ll have Chloe call him a cab.” “Yeah, she flew back today.” “Oh? Suddenly you have time?” 4 By the time Arthur arrived, Evelyn had fallen fast asleep. She was nestled in my arms, her little cheeks flushed. “Chloe. It’s been a long time.” Arthur didn’t look much different from before. He was always handsome, and even time seemed to have treated him kindly. His dark eyes were deep, unreadable. I replied softly, “Long time no see.” Madison gestured toward James with her chin. “Mr. Sterling, hurry up and take your son home. He’s been refusing to leave.” James sat in silence, making no move to get up. I don’t know if I imagined it, but he seemed to exchange a look with Arthur. I turned to Madison. “Let’s go. It won’t be good if Evelyn wakes up.” Just as I stood up to leave, Arthur suddenly called out, “Chloe, have you been well lately?” I frowned. “Keep your voice down.” Evelyn stirred in my arms, a bit restless. Arthur lowered his voice, making forced conversation. “Whose child is this? She’s beautiful.” His words praised Evelyn, but his eyes were fixed on me. “Mine.” I had only been holding her for a little while, but my arms were already getting sore. Kids really do grow fast. Arthur’s smile froze. “What?” He stared blankly at Evelyn for a long time, then smiled again. “She’s adopted, right?” I fought the urge to roll my eyes. “Biological.” Evelyn looked so much like me, a perfect copy of my excellent genes. She obviously looked like my biological daughter. Adopted? You’re the one who’s adopted! Madison sensed my annoyance. She stepped between Arthur and me, separating us. “It’s late. Mr. Sterling should take his kid home to sleep.” With that, we left. Madison looked back. “That old dog Arthur is still staring at you.” “Yeah. I’m staying at your place tonight.” “Stay as long as you want. What’s mine is yours.” “I want the master bedroom.” “? Don’t push your luck!” “The master bedroom is bigger. I have a kid to raise. Do you have a kid to raise?” “Hmph. You win.”

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I Couldn’t Move On After My Mother Passed. Then I Found Her Diary: “Let Mom Help You One Last Time.” After Mom passed away. I was lost in a dark place for a long time. More than once, I wanted to jump off that bridge. But Mom was the wind blowing across the water. Time and time again, pushing me back to safety. …… It was 1 AM when I finally got home. When I opened the door, Dad was exactly as he always was. His thumb and index finger weakly pinching a glass of whiskey, pouring it down his throat. I couldn’t help but think that after Mom passed. I wasn’t the only one who couldn’t move on. Dad was trapped, too. But neither of us knew how to hide our emotions. Just like right now, he wanted to present the image of a cheerful dad welcoming his daughter home for the holidays. But all I saw was. A miserable man with tear stains all over his face, forcing a smile. He pulled the corners of his mouth up toward his ears. Looking at me helplessly, waiting for a hug. I mirrored his expression, forcing a smile of my own. Then I put my backpack down, stepped forward, and hugged him tightly. He said, “Chloe, have you eaten?” “Let me make you some mac and cheese.” Saying that, he let go of me and went into the kitchen. He reached up and pulled open the top cabinet. I watched from afar. Inside was an entire row of instant mac and cheese cups. Next to the microwave, there were several empty wrappers and cheese powder stains. I figured this was how he had been getting by all these days alone. This was our first Christmas after Mom left. It was too lonely, too bleak. Without her, we just couldn’t manage our lives. I couldn’t hold it in anymore. My tears dripped onto the floor like a leaky faucet. Dad seemed a little drunk. Not only did he fail to notice my breakdown. But he also accidentally knocked a stack of bowls and plates onto the floor. The sound of shattering porcelain instantly scared my tears back. I ran over to him. The back of his hand was cut. The blood dripped… It dripped right onto a notebook. I froze for a moment. A diary? 2 My mom’s name was Mary. She only had a middle school education. She knew how to read, but not perfectly. She still made spelling mistakes. The names saved in her phone contacts. Many of them were spelled phonetically or as jokes. For example, Mrs. Sullivan from the farmer’s market. She saved her as: Sue Livin, “Her vegetables are a rip-off.” Mrs. Baker from the grocery store. She saved her as: Bakes Bad, “Was mean to Chloe, never buying her stuff again.” And her best friend, Aunt Brenda. She saved her as: Brenda Bestie, “Chloe loves her, so I love her too.” Every time I saw her contact list, I wanted to laugh. But every time I saw what she named me, I wanted to cry. She wrote: Chloe Miller, “Mary’s sweet girl,” “My absolute favorite.” With three little heart emojis at the end. And now, I was holding a diary in my hands. Filled entirely with her own handwriting. There was a message on the cover. “For Chloe.” “My dearest daughter.” “If you don’t know how to live your life anymore.” “Then let Mom help you one last time.” The diary was thick. I flipped through it quickly. Every page was completely filled. And the handwriting was incredibly neat. There were no spelling mistakes, no scribbled-out words. She probably guessed it—I always hated it when my school notebooks looked messy. Naturally, I’d want a diary to be clean and tidy, too. So she must have secretly practiced for a long time. In an instant, my eyes burned. To control my emotions, I put the diary away. Then I helped my dad into the living room. And bandaged his wound. 3 2 AM. Dad had fallen asleep on the couch. I lay in my bedroom. Too afraid to open the diary. Eventually, I couldn’t take the silence. So I imitated how Mom used to be. I put on yellow rubber gloves and tied an apron around my waist. I deep-cleaned the entire house from top to bottom. Just to distract myself. I remembered, she used to do this every year a few days before Christmas. The sofa—she insisted on pulling it out to sweep up the dust bunnies underneath. The pots and pans—everything had to be scrubbed spotless. The bedsheets—we had to put on fresh, newly bought ones. She said the holidays meant a fresh start, everything had to begin anew. Whether it was something terrible or something wonderful. It was all left in the past year. A new year meant embracing new changes. She also said. Whether it’s heartbreaking or painful. Whether it’s joyful or lucky. We have to accept it all calmly. Everything must look forward. Right. I had to accept the fact that she was gone. By the time I finished cleaning the house. It was already morning. Dad still hadn’t woken up. And I had already put on a thick winter coat and headed to the store. In past years, Mom and I always went to pick out a Christmas wreath together. She would always be so picky, saying one didn’t look full enough. Or another didn’t have the right holiday spirit. It would take her half the day just to choose one. But now, standing in front of the old man selling wreaths in the parking lot. I didn’t know what to pick. They all looked exactly the same to me. A piercing, bright green and red. Especially the wooden sign that read “Home for the Holidays.” It stung my eyes. In the end, just like rushing through a homework assignment. I picked one at random. After buying it, I couldn’t help but think of her again. But this time, there was a bit of resentment. I couldn’t help but complain in my heart. Look, Mom. I haven’t grown up yet. I don’t even know how to pick out a simple wreath. It’s all your fault, leaving too early. You didn’t even have time to teach me. Later, after I walked around the market, I realized. Mom didn’t just fail to teach me how to pick out a wreath. How to buy the sweetest apples in winter. How to pick the freshest vegetables. How to haggle with the vendors. She never taught me any of it. Even the fastest route back home. She had never mentioned it. Otherwise. Why was it that the further I walked, the blurrier the road ahead became? 4 When I got home, Dad was still nursing a hangover. He saw me holding bags of groceries. And sobered up instantly. Without even putting his slippers on properly, he took the bags from my hands. After putting them down, he came back and gently rubbed my freezing, red hands. He said, “It’s all my fault, I drank too much again.” “Are you tired? Are you hungry? Should Dad make you some mac and cheese?” After he spoke, a flash of guilt crossed his eyes. I saw his mouth twitch. Then he explained. “I’m sorry, mac and cheese is the only thing Dad knows how to make.” I nodded. It was true. Dad only knew how to make mac and cheese and how to make money. Mom took care of us too well. So, after she left. Our world. Just collapsed. I shook my head and told Dad I’d already eaten a breakfast sandwich at the market. Then I went into the kitchen. Just like in the early hours of the morning. I picked up the apron. Imagining Mom’s posture. Making the dough. Slicing the apples. Baking an apple pie. I tried to keep myself as busy as possible. To make myself forget about the diary Mom left behind. It was the only piece of her I had left. I wanted to wait for a solemn, perfect moment to open it. Because it said. “For Chloe.” “My dearest daughter.” “If you don’t know how to live your life anymore.” “Then let Mom help you one last time.” I thought, I couldn’t let Mom down. I couldn’t let her know that my life was falling apart. 2 (Author’s Chapter Numbering) But, I was pathetic. That solemn, perfect moment. Just arrived without any warning. After failing to make the pie crust for the umpteenth time. I suddenly missed her like crazy. Why could she blend the flour and butter so perfectly? Yet every time I tried, it turned into a sticky, ruined mess. Why could she do everything so flawlessly. And I couldn’t even make a simple dough. Did I even deserve to be her daughter? Should I have been the one to get cancer? Should I have been the one writing a final diary? The more I thought about it, the more twisted my mind became. Until my eyes landed on the kitchen knife on the counter. My bloodshot eyes widened. I guess it was because I had been quiet for too long. Dad rushed in. He arrived just in time. I hadn’t lost too much blood yet. My consciousness was still clear. I could hear him screaming my name. I could hear the ambulance sirens. And. In a daze. I thought I heard Mom say. “Silly girl.” “How can you be so clumsy? You can’t even make a simple dough?” “Be good, Mom will teach you.” 3 That’s right. Mom. I’m too clumsy. Come back and teach me. 4 The doctor pulled my dad out into the hallway. He said I had severe depression and suicidal tendencies. Then the doctor shot me a cautious look. And pulled Dad into another room entirely. They were discussing my condition. I wondered if my dad was going to break down. His wife died of cancer. And now his daughter was severely depressed. Would it push him over the edge? I imagined him crying and venting to the doctor. But suddenly, I couldn’t feel empathy anymore. I just thought the birds outside the window looked so free. I felt a bit happy, and I smiled. At dusk. I finally couldn’t bear the weight of missing her. I opened the first page of the diary. I was afraid that if I didn’t open it now. I might never get the chance to. 5 The first page of the diary. Was Mom’s secret whisper to me. She wrote: “Chloe.” “When you heard Mom decided to stop treatment, were you really angry?” “Don’t be mad, sweetie.” “Just think of it as doing Mom a favor.” “Mom is in so much pain.” “Please don’t ignore Mom in these final days.” “Mom wants to talk to you a lot.” “Otherwise, I just can’t be at peace.” …… “Chloe.” “After you left the hospital room, Mom thought for a long time.” “It’s all my fault for spoiling you so much.” “I turned you into a little princess who doesn’t know how to do anything.” “If Mom could stay by your side forever, I wouldn’t worry at all.” “But Mom has to leave soon.” “There are things I have to teach you before I can rest.” “But I thought about it… Mom isn’t highly educated.” “The only thing I can teach you is common sense.” “Then I thought about it some more.” “Mom’s wish isn’t a big one.” “I just want you to live a good life.” “So, this diary.” “Besides expressing how much Mom loves you.” “Is also here so that, after Mom is gone.” “You can learn how to live well.” 6 Mom was right. I didn’t know how to do anything. When I was little, learning to ride a bike, other kids got it in a few days. But I was terrified the bike was too tall, and absolutely refused to get on. Mom never forced me. She said: “If you’re scared, then we won’t learn. From now on, Mom is your bicycle.” “Mom will carry you anywhere you want to go.” Later in elementary school, the neighbor’s daughter was learning ballet. When she danced, she looked like a little fairy. Mom’s eyes were full of admiration. She looked at me and asked. “Chloe, do you want to turn into a fairy too?” I cluelessly shook my head and told her I didn’t want to learn, I just wanted to play in the mud. She still didn’t force me to do anything I didn’t want to do. She just squatted down and helped me build a mud castle. She told me: “It’s okay. It doesn’t matter if Chloe can’t dance. Mom just wants Chloe to be happy in her own little world.” In middle school, my homeroom teacher called Mom in. I hid behind Mom while they discussed whether I might have autism. The teacher said: “Mrs. Miller, you should take Chloe to see a doctor. She doesn’t say a single word in class all day, it makes it very hard for us to teach her.” Mom rubbed my head, her eyes full of pride. “She doesn’t speak because she doesn’t want to speak.” “When she wants to talk, she’ll talk.” Later, throughout all of high school. I rarely ever spoke up in class. But I never felt like I was any different from anyone else. Just like Mom said. I didn’t speak because I didn’t want to. Everyone thought I was arrogant, stubborn, aloof, and completely full of myself. Doing whatever I wanted just because I had good grades. I didn’t deny it; I was definitely cocky. Because I knew, no matter what I did. She would always have my back. I always believed. That under her wings, I would go far. Fly higher. But. Suddenly, one day. God took her wings away. I lost my protection. I fell into complete panic. I felt that a life without Mom. Was just that. Not worth living. So, I started trying to find her, over and over again. I once stood on her tiptoes on a thirty-story rooftop. But a gust of wind blew me back. I also plunged into the ocean, breathlessly asking if she could take me with her. And again, a wave crashed and pushed me back onto the shore. Later, the edge of the cliff I went to, the tip of the knife I picked up. There was always a breeze beside me. Stopping me from staring into the eyes of death. I had my answer. That wind was her. And this diary she left behind. Was her broken wings. 7 For some reason, I felt it was a bit absurd. Even a little ridiculous. How should a daughter live after losing the mother she loved most? She was actually trying to teach me with a diary. Didn’t she know? I didn’t want to live at all. I just wanted to see her right now. To be held tightly in her arms.

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My mother always said, “Life is a wilderness, and the brave enjoy the world first.” True to her word, she dumped me with a nanny when I was one, spent my elementary school years chasing pop stars across the country, and traveled the globe during my high school years. She said she was herself first, and a mother second. But twenty years later, she was tired. Exhausted from a life on the road, she wanted to settle down and enjoy a peaceful retirement. She demanded I quit my high-paying job far from home and return to serve her as a dutiful daughter. I laughed and told her, “The brave enjoy the world first. I am myself first, and your daughter second.” 1 I don’t think my mother loved me. For as long as I can remember, she and my father were rarely home. I lived in a huge house with only our nanny, Mrs. Garcia. Mrs. Garcia would tell me that my parents missed me very much, but they were just too busy to keep me company. Half-understanding, I would suck my thumb and ask, “What are they busy with?” Mrs. Garcia could never really answer. She just repeated the same lines I’d heard countless times. When Mom comes back, she’ll buy you beautiful clothes. When Mom comes back, she’ll take you to eat all sorts of yummy food. When Mom comes back, you can go to the amusement park as many times as you want. When Mom comes back, she’ll hug you, kiss you, and lift you high in the air. My family wasn’t poor. In fact, in our small town, we were considered wealthy. It wasn’t until I grew up that I realized they weren’t busy making a living like most parents. They were busy chasing celebrities, traveling, seeing the world, and making charitable donations to “realize their life’s value.” Their lives were full and busy; they just didn’t have time to care for me. But as a little girl, I didn’t know any of that. I counted my birthdays, passing them one by one. When I turned eight, Mrs. Garcia had a grandson and had to return to her hometown. My mother came home. That day, I put on my favorite dress, dug out my prettiest pink hair clip, and waited, filled with a mix of excitement and anxiety. But when she saw me, my mother just frowned and snatched the clip out of my hair. “My favorite idol’s official fandom color is blue! You are not allowed to wear pink anymore!” I stared at her blankly. I didn’t know what a fandom color was. I just looked helplessly at my broken hair clip on the floor. Hidden behind my back, my small hand gripped a little pink flower I had picked for her, but I never brought it out. 2 It was the first time I had seen my mother in five years, but she was nothing like the mother I had imagined. She didn’t cook me delicious meals like the moms on TV, nor did she miss her child desperately. She didn’t cook for me. She didn’t buy me new clothes. A new McDonald’s had opened on the corner; all the other kids had been, but I still hadn’t. From start to finish, she didn’t even pat my head. She spent exactly one day making a decision: she was sending me to a boarding school. The day she left, Mrs. Garcia had picked me up from school one last time. My mother’s return had been hasty, and her departure was just as swift. She carried only a small backpack. I dropped to my knees, tears streaming down my face. “Mom, please don’t go. I’ll miss you…” I didn’t want her to leave, even though she hadn’t hugged me, hadn’t taken me to the amusement park, and hadn’t bought me ice cream. My desk mate, Chloe, had told me: “If you don’t want your mom to leave, just beg her! Moms are very soft-hearted. My mom says they can never bear to leave their babies.” Chloe said that’s how it always worked on TV. If a child knelt and cried, the mother would stay. That year, at eight years old, I learned a harsh truth: TV lies. I knelt. I cried. I clung to the hem of her skirt, my nose running, but she left anyway. She pushed me away and quickly got into the car, terrified I would hold her back. Then she rolled down the window halfway and said: “Life is a wilderness, and the brave enjoy the world first. I am myself first, and your mother second.” I was too short to even see her face. All I saw was the black exhaust and the dust kicked up by the car tires. My father, sitting in the passenger seat, didn’t leave a single word for me. Chloe’s mom was a liar too. My mom wasn’t soft-hearted, and she didn’t care about leaving her baby! 3 I became the youngest boarder at my school, and eventually, the one who had been there the longest. Soon, I entered middle school. My parents occasionally came home for a brief visit and occasionally left me some money. In our town’s middle school, many students were “left-behind children” whose parents worked in the cities. The teachers often told us that we had to study hard to make our parents’ hard work worthwhile. I acted like I didn’t care, but secretly, I sat up straighter and studied like my life depended on it. During my early teens, right in the middle of a growth spurt, I quickly developed severe hypoglycemia from chronic malnutrition. The day I fainted in class, the school administrators frantically called my mother. When she answered, her screaming could be heard throughout the entire office. It took her five days to finally show up. She found me at school and slapped me right in front of everyone: “Don’t think I don’t know you’re just doing this for attention! Hypoglycemia? Why don’t I know you have hypoglycemia?!” I lowered my head and begged, “Mom, can you please put some money on my meal card? I really don’t have any money for food. I’m so hungry…” Before I could finish, seeing parents, students, and teachers staring at us, she flew into a humiliated rage. She slapped me across the face again, her shrill voice ringing out: “When have I ever shorted your allowance?! I put two thousand dollars on your card last time! You obviously blew it all!” “Why does a girl need to eat so much anyway? Do you think looking like a fat pig is pretty?” “All you think about is eating, eating, eating! You’re clearly not focusing on your studies!” I opened my mouth, but a sob escaped first. But Mom, the last time you put money on my card was a year ago. And I’m already so skinny, my ribs are showing. I really didn’t waste a cent. I wished I could spend every penny on the biggest portions of food just to fill my stomach. To feel full, I chugged cold tap water because I didn’t even have the courage to spend a few cents to fill my thermos with hot water… 4 It was only later I found out that the day I fainted, the school’s phone call had distracted her, causing her to miss out on buying concert tickets for her favorite idol. She stormed back not out of concern for my health, but to vent her frustration. Regardless, she ended up leaving me five thousand dollars. Holding the money, I felt absolutely no joy. My mother spent tens of thousands chasing celebrities, taking photos, and dining with her idols. Meanwhile, I shivered in thin clothes at school, clutching a meal card with less than three dollars on it, not knowing where my next meal was coming from. Five thousand dollars wasn’t enough for one of my mother’s concert trips, but one dollar was enough for me to buy hot drinking water for ten days. Three dollars bought six steamed buns, enough to keep me from starving for a day. Ten dollars meant I could buy a clean, new notebook instead of erasing pencil marks until the paper tore. Thirty dollars could buy a study guide that everyone else in class already had. Fifty dollars could buy me a school uniform so I wouldn’t stick out like a sore thumb anymore. Money was amazing. It gave my mother wings to fly carelessly across whatever wilderness she desired. Simultaneously, it stripped away my basic needs, my dignity, and my pride. All I wanted was to live without constant anxiety. I stretched that money through my second year of middle school. By my third year, Chloe also started boarding and became my roommate. Her mother often came to school to bring her food and would tell me with a warm smile: “Oh my, I bought this shirt too small for Chloe, but it’s perfect for a skinny thing like you, Maya!” “Chloe is such a picky eater, she refuses to eat these ribs. If you don’t mind, Maya, why don’t you try my cooking?” Chloe’s mom also frequently used the excuse of having me tutor Chloe to invite me over for dinner, then slipped me “tutoring fees.” Chloe’s grades weren’t bad; in fact, we frequently fought for the number one spot in class. I obviously knew it was just an excuse. But I didn’t want to go back to that massive, empty house. It was freezing and entirely devoid of warmth. So, I shamelessly accepted the excuse and went home with Chloe. Her mom was wonderful. Plump, with a kind, genial smile and a gentle voice, very much like Mrs. Garcia. Chloe shared half her small bed with me. At night, she hugged her stuffed sheep, and I hugged her arm. The small lamp on her nightstand cast a warm, yellow glow. It felt incredibly safe and comforting. Her dad was great too. One day, I overheard Chloe’s parents talking. While cooking, her mom said, “She’s so young, right in the middle of growing, and so well-behaved. How can her mother be so cruel…” “For a little girl, she sure can eat a lot in one sitting…” My heart leaped into my throat. I knew I ate large portions, and I always tried to control myself. But I was so terrified of being hungry that whenever I saw that much food, I just couldn’t stop. Then her dad continued: “If she’s eating that much in one sitting, she’s definitely been starving for a long time. Make sure you steam the rice a bit softer and cook some richer, meatier dishes to help her build her strength back up.” I let out a massive breath I didn’t know I was holding, tears instantly springing to my eyes. How I wished this was my home. How I wished these were my parents. No one had ever taught me what love was, but I figured having a full stomach and warm clothes was probably it. I finally believed Chloe’s mom wasn’t a liar. Moms were soft-hearted. It was just my mom who was different. 5 During the summer before high school, my mother gave birth to a little boy. They named him Leo. The moment my brother was born, my mother took him to see the sunrise in Paris and the sunset in London. Every time they reached a new destination, my mother would post on social media. In the photos, my brother laughed joyfully as my parents kissed his chubby cheeks. It was sweet and heartwarming. They lit up every corner of the globe for my brother, declaring him their one and only treasure. And me? The meticulous care, the soft whispers, the attention my mother showered on my brother—I had never received any of it. I pretended not to care as I navigated through the crowds of supportive parents to enter the high school placement exam center. But the traditional longevity lock they bought for him didn’t work. My brother died later that year from a severe, sudden fever. I didn’t know the details; I only knew that my mother went quiet for a while and stopped traveling. But my life didn’t change much. I was still as poor and isolated as ever. After surviving for two months, when I was completely out of money again, I finally worked up the courage to dial her number. My mother shrieked into the phone: “Money, money, money! Is that all you know how to ask for?! Why don’t you just go die?! Why was it your brother who died and not you?!” Beep. She hung up. I held the phone to my ear for a long time. Even though I knew she might not give me anything, the venom in her words still pierced me. What kind of mother uses the most vicious curses on her own child? What kind of mother wishes her own child were dead? Mine did. Yet, despite the fact that I only ever called to ask for money, not a single cent was ever added to my meal card. High school was different from middle school; the expenses were much higher. Fortunately, back then, the application process for financial aid wasn’t as strict. The teachers, aware of my situation, secured a spot for me. Relying on that stipend, I scraped by through my freshman year.

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The year I turned thirty, I decided to resign. This secret, one-sided love affair of mine had finally reached its end. I had spent five years climbing the ranks from a lowly assistant to Alexander Sterling’s executive secretary, and another three years making myself utterly indispensable to him. In the end, it took me exactly five minutes to write my resignation letter, and one second to hit send. 1 When I handed in the hard copy of my resignation, Alexander’s brows furrowed slightly. He looked up, his gaze settling on me in a quiet, deliberate stare. “Give me a reason.” I lowered my head, avoiding his eyes, and forced the most genuine smile I could muster. “Mr. Sterling, I’m thirty this year. It’s time for me to settle down.” I paused for a moment, then added, “My boyfriend recently proposed.” To ensure a smooth exit, I told a harmless lie. Alexander’s index finger began tapping rhythmically against his mahogany desk—a telltale sign that he was extremely irritated. Perhaps I should consider myself lucky. At least he wasn’t completely indifferent to my departure. After a long silence, Alexander slid the resignation letter back across the desk to me. “I can approve an extended PTO for your wedding, but I expect you to seriously reconsider resigning.” For a split second, I wavered. A seductive voice whispered incessantly in the back of my mind: Agree to it. Just say yes. At least you’ll still get to see him every day. But another voice sternly warned me: Emma, he’s getting engaged. Harboring a crush on a soon-to-be married man is crossing a line. My hand hovered in the air for a long time, but ultimately, I didn’t take the paper back. “This job is too demanding. After I get married, I want to focus more on my family.” “I will ensure all my current projects are fully transitioned before I go. I’m sorry, Mr. Sterling.” Having pushed the conversation this far, Alexander stopped arguing. He replied coldly, “Understood. Happy wedding.” Before I even left his office, he had already buried his head back in his paperwork. After all, to him, I was just a subordinate. The most useful one, perhaps, but just an employee nonetheless. 2 Later that day, I sat at my desk, staring blankly at the potted succulent next to my monitor. It was rare for me to zone out like this. My daily routine was usually a whirlwind, juggling the coordination of corporate affairs while simultaneously acting as Alexander’s personal assistant. My phone was on twenty-four-seven. Whenever Alexander needed me, I had to be there instantly. I did the work of three people combined. Of course, Alexander paid me a highly lucrative salary. Over the years, I had achieved complete financial freedom. “Emma? Emma!” Chloe, the junior assistant, called my name a few times before I finally snapped back to reality. “Mr. Sterling said to remind you to head over to the venue early tonight to make sure everything is set up for the welcome party.” Tonight’s gathering was to welcome Carter Brooks, who had just returned from studying abroad in Europe. The guest list consisted exclusively of Alexander’s inner circle. They were the young heirs of the city’s most elite old-money families. Filthy rich, deeply privileged, and with standards higher than the sky. Logically, an outsider like me shouldn’t have been welcome in their circle. But there was no helping it—I was simply too useful. People who can cater to everyone’s specific moods and preferences, orchestrating a flawless party without a single hiccup, are incredibly rare. As soon as I arrived at the venue, I hit the ground running. From the catering to the cocktails to the appetizers, I double-checked every young heir’s dietary restrictions and preferences. “Remove all the lilies from the centerpieces. Harrison is allergic.” “Keep the ambient lighting dim. Leo just had laser eye surgery.” “Make sure the bartender has that specific Kentucky bourbon Carter loves.” As the sun fully set and the sky darkened, the guests began to trickle in. Tristan Vance was the first to arrive. Seeing me, he gave a casual wave. “When is Alex getting here?” I checked my watch and gave a precise answer: “He had a late conference call. Give him about an hour.” Tristan collapsed onto the velvet sofa, looking lethargic, with dark circles under his eyes from sheer exhaustion. I signaled the staff to lower the music slightly and grabbed a throw blanket, handing it to him. “The autumn air is getting crisp, don’t catch a cold. You have some time before the others arrive, get some rest.” He chuckled, taking the blanket, and teased, “Honestly, Emma, you really should consider dumping Alex and coming to work for me. I’ll double whatever he’s paying you.” For men like them, there were always countless people trying to kiss their boots. That made my demeanor stand out. Because I wanted nothing from them, I interacted with them naturally and openly. Ironically, that earned their respect. Playing along, I smiled and replied, “I’ll keep that in mind. If I’m ever out of a job, I’ll be counting on you to take me in, Tristan.” 3 As the night deepened and the streetlights flickered on, the rest of the group finally arrived. Alexander walked in wearing a tailored black trench coat, bringing a wisp of the chilling autumn air with him. I took his coat, thinking to myself that this might be the very last time I’d do this. When the drinks were flowing and everyone was in high spirits, I found the right moment to announce my resignation. I had received a lot of grace from these men over the years. I stood up and raised my glass. “I’m officially stepping down from my position. When I first started, I was clueless and made plenty of mistakes. Thank you all for your patience over the years!” “It’s a big world out there, but I hope our paths cross again someday.” Perhaps it was the melancholy of the autumn season, but a sudden heaviness settled over the dining table. It was Tristan who finally raised his glass toward me from across the table, breaking the awkward silence. “You know, in the beginning, I always thought you had some hidden agenda regarding Alex. It’s only right now that I actually believe you didn’t.” Everyone at the table silently understood what Tristan meant. After all, Alexander’s previous secretaries had all been fired for confessing their feelings to him. Later, Alexander started exclusively hiring male secretaries, only to get confessed to by them as well. Since then, he had earned a reputation as an untouchable heartthrob. Someone clapped Alexander on the shoulder and joked, “Didn’t expect that, did you? Someone is actually immune to your charm.” Alexander casually lit a cigar, laughing as he shot back, “Shut up.” After dinner, a few of them set up a poker table to kill time. Halfway through the game, Tristan casually asked, “Alex, your grandmother arranged that marriage with the Kensington girl for you, right? Have you even met her yet?” My heart skipped a beat. The hand I was using to pour water froze in mid-air. After a moment, Alexander replied indifferently, “No. As long as the old lady is happy. Marrying one woman is the same as marrying another.” For people in their echelon, marriage was always a transaction mixed with corporate interests and endless calculations. In a way, they enjoyed wealth and resources normal people couldn’t even fathom; paying a price for it seemed fair. It seemed Alexander had already accepted the rules of the game. I had met Olivia Kensington once. A true Southern belle, gentle and sweet. She was a good girl. If possible, I truly wanted Alexander to have a happy ending, different from the cold marriages of his peers. 4 The gathering lasted late into the night. Chauffeurs had been waiting outside, and as the party broke up, the heirs were quickly whisked away. Only Alexander’s driver had run into a minor fender-bender on the way, making him late. This led to the exact scenario I dreaded the most: being completely alone with him. We stood side-by-side under a streetlight, our shadows stretching long across the pavement. Whenever this happened, all my buried resentment and dark, selfish thoughts would threaten to bubble to the surface. But Alexander knew nothing. He just stood there quietly, the alcohol making him seem slightly less sharp and intimidating than usual. Soon, his driver finally pulled up. Alexander turned to look at me, asking with gentlemanly courtesy, “Need a ride?” I shook my head, flashing a grateful but adequately distanced smile. “Thank you, Mr. Sterling. But my fiancé is already on his way.” Alexander didn’t press the issue. He gave a slight nod and slid into the backseat of the luxury sedan. The world was finally empty, leaving just me. The heavy, suffocating mask I wore all day could finally be ripped off. I kicked off my stilettos without a care and slumped onto the edge of a concrete planter, feeling a rare wave of absolute lostness. For a moment, I honestly didn’t know where I was supposed to go. Soon after, a light drizzle began to fall. The first autumn rain cut right to the bone, cold and damp. I walked barefoot along the sidewalk. This was a gated, ultra-rich neighborhood, so I had to walk a long way before I could finally find a spot to hail a cab. … The main road Alexander usually took was under construction tonight. The driver didn’t know, so they had to detour back out. Alexander didn’t expect to see Emma again, standing by the road in the freezing rain, a pair of heels dangling casually from one hand. He was mildly surprised. He never imagined that his usually stoic, flawless executive secretary had such an… unkempt side. Every time he saw her at the office, she was always in a crisp, tailored suit, buttoned all the way to the top. He had seen plenty of women strategically unbutton their blouses and ‘accidentally’ lean over his desk. Emma was the exception. That was why he promoted her—first, for her sheer competence, and second, because she knew her boundaries. As they were about to drive past her, his driver asked from the front seat, “Sir, should we offer Ms. Hayes a ride?” Alexander’s eyes remained entirely unreadable. He answered simply, “No.” He had already formed a very poor opinion of her so-called fiancé. Emma was a brilliant woman, but apparently, she had terrible taste in men. Still, matters of the heart were personal. It wasn’t his place to interfere. 5 I wasn’t sure if I saw Alexander’s car pass by. It was just a blur in the rain, maybe my mind was playing tricks on me. Taxis rarely frequented this upscale neighborhood, so my driver had to come from far away. I stood there until my legs were entirely numb before my ride finally showed up. By the time I got home, it was two or three in the morning. The entire house was dead silent. To the outside world, I projected the image of a woman with a happy family, a loving fiancé, and a vibrant social life. People would often look at me with envy and say: You have the perfect life. But the truth was, I had nothing. No family, no lover, no friends. When I was in middle school, my mom was diagnosed with breast cancer. Stage three. She had a mastectomy, but less than six months later, it came back. One completely ordinary morning, my dad walked out the door for work and never came back. He emptied our bank accounts, leaving behind my dying mother and his underage daughter. Upon hearing the news, my mom was unusually calm. She quietly went through chemotherapy, stayed in the hospital, and on her good days, she would cook for me. One evening, I came home from school to find a table full of food. She sat across from me, smiling brightly. For some reason, a wave of sheer terror washed over me. When I leaned in, the food had a strange, bitter chemical smell. I suddenly remembered the brand-new bottle of rat poison she had bought for the bathroom. That was the first time I realized how terrifyingly strong my mother’s grip was. No matter how hard I thrashed, I couldn’t break free. A desperate will to live gave me the adrenaline to wrench myself from her grasp. I ran blindly, somehow ending up on the roof of our apartment building. My mother followed, crying, her arms wide open, babbling incoherently. “Emma, this world is too cruel. Mommy can’t bear to leave you here all alone.” “Come with me. We can be mother and daughter again in the next life.” I cried too. I was so exhausted, and I missed the comforting smell of laundry detergent in my mom’s hugs. Maybe this is it, I thought. Living isn’t that great anyway. The wind on the roof was howling that night, but my mother’s embrace was so warm. She held my hand, leading us step by step toward the ledge. Just as we were about to fall, a pair of thin, strong hands grabbed me. He pulled me back with everything he had, refusing to let go no matter how much I struggled. Swirling in the wind, all I could clearly see was a pair of strikingly bright eyes. I survived. My mother did not. That boy was Alexander Sterling. He not only saved my life, but he gave me a reason to keep living— To repay my debt to him. I felt like I had betrayed my mother. Back then, I was like a drowning person, desperate to grab onto any piece of driftwood. Alexander was that driftwood. When the fire trucks, police cars, and ambulances arrived, amidst the chaotic crowd, I grabbed his hand and looked up at him. “How can I repay you?” I still remember how the sixteen-year-old Alexander looked down at me and said with absolute sincerity: “Just remember to come find me.” My life had been trapped on the night my mother died. Alexander was the only thing I had to look forward to.

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Seven years ago, Carter and I broke up because we were from two completely different worlds. Seven years later, I’m a corporate executive pulling in a million dollars a year. And Carter? After a devastating bankruptcy, he’s reduced to delivering takeout. Looking at the incredibly handsome man standing in front of me, I casually slid a bank card across the table. “Ten thousand a month. I’m keeping you.” Looking thoroughly humiliated, Carter pocketed the card. The day after he moved into my penthouse, I accidentally overheard him on the phone: “I’m too busy. Don’t bother me with a tiny fifty-million-dollar project.” 1 I never expected my reunion with Carter Hayes to be this dramatic. “Your delivery, ma’am.” Carter was holding the paper bag with one hand, the impatient look on his face slowly fading. He narrowed his eyes, looking me up and down a few times before asking in disbelief, “Chloe?” I stared up at him, completely stunned. Seven years later, and he was still drop-dead gorgeous. Somehow, he made that bright neon delivery jacket look like a piece of high-end runway couture on his broad shoulders and long legs. Earlier this year, I heard some college alumni gossiping that Carter’s family had gone bankrupt. I hadn’t paid much attention to it at the time. A starving camel is still bigger than a horse, as they say. No matter how bad things got for the Hayes family, they’d still be miles ahead of normal people like us. It wasn’t my place to pity him. But I never imagined he’d be reduced to delivering food. He graduated from an Ivy League school. He had the face of a supermodel. He could get any job in the world—so why this? Carter, how have you been all these years? Are you married? Do you have kids? A thousand questions swirled in my head, but what actually came out of my mouth was: “You’re late.” Carter froze, then let out a soft laugh, his eyes curving into familiar crescents. “Chloe Adams. It’s been years, and you’re still as ruthless as ever.” I just looked at him in silence. I got it. I understood completely. The golden boy had fallen from grace, only to be caught at his absolute lowest by his ex-girlfriend. Aside from using humor to deflect the crushing awkwardness, what else could he do? 2 “You have an order running late. Please deliver immediately.” The automated voice from the phone clipped to his chest shattered my thoughts. Frowning, he pulled out his phone and ruthlessly powered it off. I was shocked by his reckless indifference. “I heard you get penalized for late deliveries. You’re going to lose a lot of money doing that. How are you going to feed your wife and kids?” Carter casually shoved the phone into his pocket. “I only have to feed myself. Nobody else is starving.” Oh. So he was still single. My eyes slowly drifted down from his face, eventually landing on his stomach. After all these years, were those abs still as perfectly sculpted as before? Last month, I went to a holistic wellness clinic because my hormones were a wreck. The doctor told me I needed a boyfriend. He said my stress levels were through the roof from being single too long. He told me that if I couldn’t find a man, I should at least spend time looking at handsome guys to boost my serotonin. Well, look what the universe dragged in. “Chloe, you’re drooling.” I panicked and scrubbed at the corner of my mouth with my sleeve, only to realize he was messing with me. Watching my flustered, embarrassed reaction, his chest rumbled with laughter until tears literally formed in his eyes. “Chloe, you’re adorable.” Adorable? Adorable my foot! Humiliation flared into anger, and suddenly, all the bitter memories of our toxic breakup came rushing back. 3 Carter and I were college sweethearts. He kept a low profile on campus. He never flashed his wealth. It wasn’t until right before graduation that I realized his family was astronomically rich. He had invited me to his family’s estate for dinner. I had spent months of my internship salary to buy what I thought were thoughtful, premium gifts. His mother took one look, tossed them to the housekeeper, and sneered that not even their staff would eat such low-grade trash. She told the maid to donate it to some poor relatives in the country. Then, Carter’s sister pulled out a photograph and informed me that their family was arranging a marriage for him. In two months, the gorgeous heiress in the photo would be his fiancée. “Don’t worry, my brother is very generous,” his sister had smirked. “He’ll give you a nice little severance package before he dumps you.” I was young back then. I had nothing to my name except my fragile pride and self-esteem. By the time Carter chased me out the door, I was already gone. I blocked his number and deleted him from my life. After the breakup, I went through the darkest period of my life. My best friend couldn’t stand seeing me cry every day, so she went to confront Carter. But he was ice-cold. He told her he had misjudged me. That killed whatever hope I had left. I poured every ounce of my soul into my career. Men will betray you, but work won’t. The time and energy you put into your career always pays off. Case in point: my life right now. Remembering how his family humiliated me made my blood boil. Anger fueled my audacity. I turned around, marched into my apartment, and grabbed a pristine black card from my designer bag. I held it out to him, my chin raised in absolute arrogance. “Carter, running deliveries all day probably barely pays the rent, right?” “Why don’t you work for me? I’ll pay you ten thousand dollars a month. What do you say?” 4 Carter didn’t say a word. He just stared at my manicured fingers holding the card. Just as my arm was starting to ache, he lowered his head and gave a response so soft I almost missed it. “Okay.” Seeing him look so defeated, so fragile—like a broken piece of glass—made my own heart crack a little. Ten thousand! That was ten thousand dollars a month! I only wanted to insult him! Why did he agree?! Wasn’t he supposed to slap the card away, quote some alpha-male movie line about earning his way back to the top, and storm off?! God knows what I sacrificed to hit a million-dollar salary. And that was before taxes. After the IRS, 401k, and insurance took their cut, I was taking home maybe fifty thousand a month. Giving him ten grand was a massive hit! My fingers were trembling slightly. Carter tried to slide the card from my grip, failing three times because I was holding on so tight. “Chloe, do you actually not have the money?” He looked amused, the corners of his perfectly sculpted lips curling into a mocking smirk. I really wanted to admit I was just trying to flex. But my ego absolutely refused. I let go of the card and tossed my hair over my shoulder. “Do a good job. If you serve me well, I’ll double your salary.” Carter walked away with my card, wearing the most complicated expression I had ever seen. He didn’t just take my card. He took my peace of mind. I made a vow. No matter how well he performed, I was going to find a flaw. In exactly one month, I would fire him for “poor service.” That way, I only lose ten grand. Yeah, that’s manageable. Not too bad. 5 “Where is he?!” “Where are you hiding him?!” My best friend, Zoe, burst into my apartment wearing fuzzy pajama pants, her hair a bird’s nest, and a sheet mask still plastered to her face. I put my phone down and rolled my eyes. “You got here fast.” I had literally texted her about Carter five minutes ago. She lived across town. It was a twenty-minute drive with zero traffic. “Stop stalling, where’s the eye candy?!” “He left. He’s moving in tomorrow night.” Zoe hopped over to me like an overcaffeinated bunny and wiggled her eyebrows. “So, how are you going to humiliate him? Handcuffs? Whips? Blindfolds?” “Maybe a French maid outfit for men?” A male maid outfit? What did that even look like? Just a tiny apron over an eight-pack of abs? Picturing Carter’s normally cold, untouchable face while wearing nothing but a frilly apron made my entire body flush. A sudden, familiar cramp hit my lower stomach. I shoved Zoe’s masked face away and sprinted for the bathroom. A long moment later, I groaned from behind the door. “Zoe… I got my period.” “I don’t think I have any tampons left, can you run to the drugstore?” Zoe poked her head into the doorway, her eyes wide with awe. “Oh my god.” “If I recall correctly, your stress was so bad you haven’t had a period in two months, right?” “The doctors couldn’t fix your hormones, but one look at Carter Hayes and the dam breaks?! Wild!” I grabbed a roll of toilet paper and lobbed it at her head. “Get out!” 6 The doorbell woke me up at the crack of dawn. I stood at the door in my oversized t-shirt, staring dumbfounded at a row of massive luxury suitcases. Carter raised an eyebrow and flashed me a dazzling smile. “Good morning, sugar mama.” I grabbed his wrist, staring in horror at the incredibly expensive Patek Philippe on his arm. “It’s six in the morning, dude!” “This watch is a fake, a really good replica—” We spoke at the exact same time. Carter pulled his wrist back, smoothly took off the watch, and stuffed it into his pocket. “Didn’t you say my salary would double if I performed well? I’m just showing initiative.” Despicable! Using my own words against me! Carter pushed his luggage inside and casually strolled straight into my master bedroom. When I realized he was about to start hanging his clothes in my closet, I lunged forward. “What do you think you’re doing?” He blinked at me, the picture of innocence. “Didn’t you say I was supposed to serve you?” “If we don’t sleep in the same bed, how am I supposed to serve you?” He leaned down and whispered those last few words right in my ear, his voice dropping an octave into a gravelly purr. “Y-You—” My face burned. I couldn’t believe how low he had sunk. To make a quick buck, he was actually trying to seduce me! Life must have been incredibly hard on him these past few years. The untouchable prince finally learned the value of a dollar. “Your room is down the hall. I prefer sleeping alone.” Carter grabbed his suitcases and walked away, his broad back looking distinctly disappointed. Disappointed? I’m definitely overthinking this. 7 Carter was very self-aware. He unpacked his things and immediately went to the kitchen to make breakfast. Leaning against the doorframe, watching his broad shoulders move around the kitchen, four words popped into my head: Peace and quiet. For years, I had been married to my job, working insane overtime hours. Whenever I came home, the apartment always felt cold and sterile. Sometimes, when I was dead on my feet, I’d fantasize about coming home to someone having a hot meal waiting for me. I didn’t expect to achieve that dream so quickly. Even if the price tag was a bit steep. Thinking about that $10,000 monthly retainer made my heart bleed. I made up my mind: No matter how good the food was, I was going to tell him it tasted like garbage! “Stop staring at me and go wash your face.” Carter stepped out of the kitchen and nudged me toward the bathroom. “Wait, I think I smell something burning.” He grabbed my chin, gently turning my head forward, his expression deadpan. “That’s just your imagination.” It was definitely my imagination. When I came out dressed for work, I stared in shock at the absolute feast spread across my dining table. Perfectly poached eggs benedict, thick-cut bacon, fluffy buttermilk pancakes, avocado toast with microgreens, fresh fruit parfaits, and steaming artisan coffee. A five-star hotel buffet couldn’t compete with this. “Y-You made all this?” He nodded, pulling out a chair for me like a gentleman. “Taste it.” I took a bite of the eggs benedict. The hollandaise was incredibly rich, the egg yolk perfectly runny, and the English muffin toasted to a crisp perfection. One word: Divine! “It’s alright. A bit basic, but it’s edible.” 8 The light in Carter’s eyes died. He lowered his gaze, looking genuinely hurt, his voice soft. “Really? I guess I need to work harder.” I aggressively shoved a pancake into my mouth so I wouldn’t accidentally blurt out a compliment to comfort him. Ten thousand dollars! Hold the line, Chloe! Usually, my appetite was nonexistent during this time of the month. But the food was so good I ate until I was stuffed, patting my stomach happily as I grabbed my purse for work. Before I left, I made sure to order him to deep-clean the apartment. This is what happens when you grow up poor. You starve yourself before a buffet to get your money’s worth. If I was paying for a kept man, he was going to be my chef, maid, driver, bodyguard, and eye candy combined. Every penny had to be maximized! Carter nodded obediently, walking me to the door like he didn’t want me to leave. “Come home early, Chloe. I’ll be waiting for you.” He sounded like a devoted 1950s housewife. I practically skipped to the elevator, feeling energized for the workday. Just as the doors opened, I patted my pocket and realized I left my phone on the counter. I hurried back, pushed the front door open, and heard Carter on a phone call. “I’m too busy. Don’t bother me with a tiny fifty-million-dollar project.” He opened the door wider as he spoke, catching me mid-snoop, my ear practically pressed against the air. We locked eyes. The silence was deafening. To break the awkwardness, I decided to go on the offensive. “Ooooh, a tiny fifty-million-dollar project! Big shot!” Carter slowly lowered his phone, looking at me with an expression that screamed ‘I don’t even know where to begin.’ I snatched my phone off the entryway table and waved at him. “Off to work! Bye, Mr. Fifty Million!” I guess when rich people go broke, they cope by playing pretend. Zoe and I used to play the same game when we were broke college kids. Thinking about Carter’s flustered face put me in an amazing mood.

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