What’s it like having a face that just screams "mean girl"? I volunteer at a soup kitchen, and people spread rumors I'm trying to snag a rich kid. I help a lost child, and I'm accused of kidnapping. Even helping an old lady recycle bottles, I get doxed online for "littering." My reputation precedes me, making me unemployable right out of college. So, I hung up a shingle and started my own business: specializing in shutting down holiday guilt trips. On opening day, Julian Carter, a university professor, knocked on my door: "My mom is too nice. All our relatives have borrowed her retirement savings. I need a ruthless wife to lay down the law." "Harper Lee, six figures. Are you in?" I slapped the table, eyes gleaming: "I'm in! I guarantee they'll cough up every last penny!" 1 I applied a perfect coat of ruby red lipstick in the rearview mirror, flicking the ends up. "Professor Carter, let's be clear: I'm in this for the money, not morality." "Once we step inside, I'm your fiancée. Except for your mother, I don't give a damn about anyone's feelings. If they get a heart attack, the medical bills are on you." Julian adjusted his gold-rimmed glasses, knuckles white on the steering wheel. "Ms. Lee, that’s exactly what I need." His voice was exhausted. "My mom is soft-hearted. After my dad passed, the relatives never stopped coming. This year, my Aunt Betty and her family of five moved in a week before Christmas, treating my home like a free resort." "I... I have no other choice." "As long as you can get rid of them and protect my mom, I'll hand you the sledgehammer if you want to tear the house down." The car pulled into an upscale gated community. Even through the window, I could hear the raucous noise coming from the Carter family's standalone villa. "Mary! These cherries aren't sweet! Turn up the heat; if my grandson catches a cold, can you afford to pay for it?" The foyer was a disaster zone. The imported rug was covered in sunflower seed shells and muddy footprints. A heavyset woman sat cross-legged on the sofa, spitting shells onto the floor. Next to her, a chubby little boy was scribbling with markers on a landscape painting on the wall. It was Julian's father's relic, incredibly valuable. Julian's mother, Mrs. Carter, wearing an apron and holding a mop, voice trembling: "Aunt Betty, you can't draw on that painting..." "So what if he draws on a piece of paper!" Aunt Betty rolled her eyes, scattering shells onto the freshly mopped floor. "My Timmy likes it, you should be honored!" "Julian is so rich, why would he care about a broken painting? Mary, it’s this stinginess of yours that drove your husband to his grave!" Mrs. Carter’s eyes were red rimmed, her hands shaking as she gripped the mop. Julian’s face was ashen. I reached out and stopped him. I tossed my faux fur coat over my shoulder and clicked my four-inch heels over to the sofa, looking down at Aunt Betty. "Showing up empty-handed is one thing, but bringing your own trash? Julian, these are your relatives? They look like refugees, and they smell like sour milk." Aunt Betty froze, sunflower seed shells falling onto her shirt. "Who are you? It’s none of your business, outsider!" I laughed coldly, linking my arm through Julian’s and pressing myself against him. "Who am I?" "I’m his fiancée. The mistress of this house." Mrs. Carter looked at me in shock. Aunt Betty’s jowls quivered with rage. She sprang from the sofa, pointing a finger at my nose. "You little tramp! Who are you calling refugees!" Slap. I swatted her hand away, eyes icy. "Point that again, and I’ll snap it off." "Want to stay here? Fine." "Carpet cleaning fee: two thousand. The painting on the wall: eight hundred thousand." "Cash or card?" Aunt Betty backed away in fear, looking at Julian. "Julian! Look at this shrew you brought home! She’s trying to kill your own aunt!" Julian pushed up his glasses and sighed. "Aunt Betty, Harper has a bad temper. She handles all the money in the house." "I can't do anything. If I don't listen to her, she beats me too." Aunt Betty clearly hadn't expected Julian to be so spineless. Her usual tactics for manipulating the Carter mother and son weren't working today. "Fine! Julian, you’re a real man now! Bringing home a tigress to oppress your elders!" Aunt Betty’s eyes darted around, and she flopped back onto the sofa, slapping her thighs and wailing dryly. "My poor brother! Look at the widow and orphan you left behind, now being ridden roughshod over by an outsider!" Little Chubby Timmy joined in the commotion, grabbing a marker and throwing it at Mrs. Carter. "Bad woman! Don't bully my grandma! I want KFC!" The marker hit Mrs. Carter on the forehead, instantly raising a red welt. She clutched her head, instinctively apologizing: "Timmy, don't be mad, Auntie will go buy it..." I grabbed Mrs. Carter. "Mom, you sit down." I pressed her back onto the sofa, turned to stare at the brat, and smiled at him. Timmy was scared and burrowed into Aunt Betty's arms. "Want KFC?" Timmy emboldened himself and yelled: "Yes! A family bucket! Two big burgers!" "Sure." I pulled a thick red envelope from my bag. Aunt Betty stopped wailing, her eyes glued to it. "My niece-in-law is so sensible." She immediately put on a smiling face and reached out to grab it. "Julian is a big professor, he earns a lot. A small red envelope wouldn't be presentable." I twisted my wrist, dodging her dirty hand. "What’s the rush, Aunt Betty? This is for the child." I squatted down, waving the red envelope in front of Timmy. "Say something nice, and it’s yours." Timmy stared at the thickness of the red envelope, drool practically dripping. He shouted at the top of his lungs: "Hello, sister-in-law! Sister-in-law is so pretty!" "Good boy." I stuffed the red envelope into his hands. Timmy tore it open and dumped it out. Rustle rustle—— A pile of colorful waste paper fell to the floor. Expired KFC coupons, and a few supermarket flyers. The room went dead silent. "Waaah——!" Timmy reacted, his crying shaking the roof. He laid on the floor rolling and kicking. "Liar! Big liar! I want red money!" Aunt Betty’s face turned purple with rage. She jumped up, pointing a trembling finger at my nose. "What is the meaning of this? Playing us with waste paper? Do you think we're beggars?" I stood up slowly, dusting off my hands. "Aunt Betty, that’s not right. The child wanted KFC, these coupons are the thought that counts." "I heard you when I came in, saying Julian earns a lot." I sneered, looking at Julian. "Professor Carter, didn't you tell Aunt Betty?" "Your salary card is with me. You have to apply to me for fifty bucks for cigarettes." My gaze swept over them. "Every penny in this house is mine." "If I want to give waste paper, I give waste paper. If I want to give air, I give air." "Not a single dime leaves this house without my nod!" Aunt Betty gasped for air, turning to yell at Mrs. Carter. "Mary! Are you just going to watch this shrew bully your own family?" "This red envelope must be given today! One dollar less, and this Christmas is canceled!" "And the three thousand I lost playing cards, you make it up to me!" Mrs. Carter flinched in fear, looking at Julian. Just as Julian was about to speak, I sat down on the expensive solid wood coffee table, crossing my legs. "Canceled? Good!" "I didn't want to celebrate anyway. Let’s settle accounts." "Carpet cleaning fee, the painting on the wall, and the hit on Mom’s forehead." "Emotional damage and medical expenses, let's round it up to a hundred thousand." "No money?" My eyes went cold. I grabbed the crystal ashtray and smashed it on the floor. Crash! Glass exploded. Timmy’s crying choked in his throat. "No money, then leave this brat here to work off the debt. Our house happens to need a toilet scrubber." The room was dead silent. The shards of the crystal ashtray glinted coldly, one piece landing right by Aunt Betty's foot. She shivered in fright. "You... you wouldn't dare! This is a society under rule of law!" Aunt Betty yelled, her voice strong but her insides weak, her throat trembling. "Rule of law?" I smiled, pulling out my phone and opening the calculator. "Aunt Betty knows the law, so let’s go by the law." "Trespassing, damaging property, disturbing the peace, intentional injury." I didn't look back. "Julian, call the police. I happen to know Chief King in this district, they’ll be here fast." Hearing "police," Aunt Betty’s face turned pale. "Don't, don't, don't! Why call the police on family!" She immediately put on a smile, changing faces faster than flipping a page. "Julian's wife, Aunt Betty was just joking with you." "This child is ignorant, I'll beat him later." As she spoke, she gave Timmy two light pats on the butt. Timmy was about to wail but was glared back by her. Aunt Betty forcibly changed the subject: "Um... Mary, is dinner ready? I'm hungry." Just as Mrs. Carter was about to get up, I pressed down on her shoulder. "Hungry?" I glanced at the coffee table piled high with fruit shells. "Ate so many cherries, and you're still hungry?" "Since you're hungry, eat something filling." I ordered Julian: "Go cook a few packs of instant noodles. Don't use the flavor packets, they're expensive." Aunt Betty’s face turned green: "Instant noodles for Christmas dinner?" I shrugged: "Don't want to eat? Then starve." Dinner. Aunt Betty’s family of five sat around the table, slurping plain noodles in clear broth. Their eyes looked ready to swallow me whole. Julian, Mrs. Carter, and I sat at a small side table, eating luxurious takeout. Abalone risotto, braised pork belly, boiled shrimp. The aroma filled the entire room. Timmy drooled with greed, reaching out to grab a shrimp. Smack! I hit the back of his hand hard with my chopsticks. "Ah!" "No manners," I said coldly. Aunt Betty slammed her chopsticks onto the table. "Not eating!" Her eyes darted around, landing on Mrs. Carter, finding a way to turn the tables. "Mary, after dinner, the old rule, play a couple of hands of cards?" "It's Christmas, let's liven things up." Hearing "play cards," Mrs. Carter's face instantly turned pale. She whispered an excuse: "Aunt Betty, I... I'm not feeling well, let's not play." "Oh, not feeling well?" Aunt Betty picked her teeth, speaking sarcastically. "You were pretty energetic when eating abalone! Afraid of losing money?" "Julian earns so much, and you care about this little bit of money?" "Play with your elders. If you don't play, it's unfilial!" Julian was about to stand up in anger, but I kicked him under the table. I wiped my mouth and stood up slowly. "Mom's not feeling well, she really can't stay up late." I paused. "Aunt Betty is right. It's no fun without playing a couple of hands during Christmas." I walked over to the card table, pulled out a chair, and sat down grandly. "I'll play for Mom." "How big do you want to play?" Aunt Betty exchanged a greedy look with two other relatives. "Sure, niece-in-law has elegance. Let’s play." "Our family is poor, can't play too big. Three-card brag, ten-dollar ante, no limit." Julian leaned in, whispering: "Harper, they cheat..." I gave him a look. "Don't worry." "When it comes to being crazy, I'm a professional." The game began. Mrs. Carter stood nervously behind me, hands clasped together. Aunt Betty shuffled the cards, looking at me like a fat sheep. "Niece-in-law, show the money first? Save you from denying the debt if you lose." I pulled a black card from my bag and slapped it on the table. "Fifty thousand." "If you have the skill, take it all." I lit a cigarette, smoke curling. I stared at Aunt Betty's greedy face, blowing a smoke ring. "If you lose and can't pay." "I have a bad temper. I'll chop off hands." At the card table, Aunt Betty’s triangular eyes gleamed, exchanging glances with Second Cousin. I laughed, playing idly with a shard of crystal glass, seemingly indifferent. "Aunt Betty, this money is hot. Careful you have the life to take it but not the life to spend it." For the first few hands, I deliberately let them win. A few thousand dollars quickly went into Aunt Betty's pocket. The flab on her face jiggled with laughter: "Oh my, niece-in-law, your card skills are no good! Young people just can't keep their cool." Mrs. Carter was sweating with anxiety behind me. Julian stopped her, pushed up his glasses, his gaze fixed on the card table. "Again." I slapped the black card on the table. "Ante doubled, one thousand." Aunt Betty went crazy with joy: "Call! Of course I call!" This hand, she got three Kings. Her breathing turned heavy, eyeballs red, certain I had nothing. She brought this deck of cards; they were marked. "Niece-in-law, don't call this hand. Save yourself from losing your family fortune," she advised hypocritically, hands pressing down tight on her chips. I blew out a smoke ring: "I'm just stubborn." "I'm all in." I pushed all the cash in front of me, along with that fifty-thousand-dollar card, into the center of the table. "Eighty thousand here." I stared at her. "Aunt Betty, dare to call?" Aunt Betty was stunned. The money in her hands added up to only a few thousand. She looked at the three Kings in her hand, a winning hand. Greed swallowed reason. "Call! I call!" She slammed the table, face turning liver-colored. "I don't have that much cash..." "No money?" My eyes swept over her. "No money is easy." I pulled out prepared A4 paper and an inkpad from my bag. "Aunt Betty’s old house in the city, the ancestral home grandpa left, market value eighty or ninety thousand." I slapped the paper in front of her: "Sign, press your fingerprint, the house as collateral. Win, eighty thousand is yours. Lose, the house belongs to Mom." Aunt Betty hesitated for a second. That was her lifeblood. She looked down at her cards, three Kings. Unless I had three Aces, she couldn't lose. Second Cousin had just discarded two Aces! This hand was a sure win!
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