My sugar daddy and I were having a very intense session when he hit his head on the nightstand and passed out cold. When he woke up, he became... weird. He no longer pestered me endlessly; instead, he treated me like a mouse seeing a cat. Just exchanging two sentences made his ears turn bright red, and he'd get all flustered. After half a month of this cold shoulder, I was convinced he had found someone new. I decided to terminate our contract early. But before I even reached his study, I heard him on the phone. "I went from eighteen to twenty-seven after just one nap. This nap was way too long." "I think I'm going crazy too. Because the girl I have a crush on is suddenly my girlfriend, and every night she asks if we can sleep together. Who can handle that?!" Crush? Was he talking about me? Weren't we just a simple transaction? I looked at the contract in my hand, lost in thought. 1 My sugar daddy had been acting weird lately. A week ago, he returned from a business trip. That night, during our "friendly exchange," he hit his head on the nightstand and passed out. At the time, I thought I had literally loved him to death. Later, when I found out he just bumped his head, I let out a long sigh of relief. But then, it was like he became a completely different person. After he woke up in the hospital, I immediately made his favorite lean meat congee and went to visit him. The moment I raised the spoon to his lips, the man rolled right off the hospital bed. The IV drip was forcefully yanked out, and he scrambled on the floor for ages, his face flushed red, unable to get up. The scene was total chaos. A moment later, Assistant Young stepped out of the room and said to me, "Ms. Song, the CEO asks that you go home first. He will return shortly." Holding the now-cold congee, I stood on my tiptoes to peek into the room. The second our eyes met, Arthur Vance whipped his head away so fast... A scream followed, and a nurse's shriek echoed from the room. "Sir! Did you sprain your neck again?!" I was very worried about Arthur. Because I was very afraid of him not "performing" well. After all, this was my job. If the sugar daddy couldn't perform, my existence was meaningless. The current economic climate was terrible. A boss like Arthur—handsome, rich, and with low demands—was a rare find. So I went home and meticulously dressed up. But for two whole days, I didn't see hide nor hair of Arthur. I called him, but he kept hanging up. I started feeling a creeping unease. Daddy, I'm not about to lose my job, am I? I turned around and called Assistant Young. Assistant Young was a good guy. Without a word, he transferred the call to Arthur. "I've been busy with work these past two days, I..." Before he could finish, I started sobbing dramatically. "I just wanted to see the wound on your head. I'm so worried about you." The line went dead silent. My manipulative "green tea" tactics had always worked perfectly on Arthur. That night, Arthur came home. Only, from the moment he walked in, he wore a stony expression. Although Arthur usually had a cold demeanor, the softness in his eyes was always impossible to hide. Right now, the man looked more like he was deliberately keeping his expression rigid. "Work has been so tiring lately. Your wound just healed, you shouldn't overexert your brain..." I took the initiative to break the weird atmosphere, reaching out to walk toward him. But before I could even touch him, the man executed a perfect dodge, and I lunged at thin air. Looking at my empty hands, I didn't process what happened for a second. Then, my heart violently sank. Although my relationship with Arthur was transactional, his infatuation and affection for me usually allowed me to act a little spoiled. This man usually stuck to me like glue the moment he saw me. Before, let alone dodging my touch, he would have loved to tie me to his belt 24/7, just to satisfy his animalistic desires. But now... Alarm bells rang in my head. I'm doomed. My charm wasn't working on him anymore. Arthur looked very awkward. He stammered, "The wound is almost healed. Let's... let's eat first." 2 When I placed a piece of lamb kidney into Arthur's bowl, his hand visibly shook twice. I observed him discreetly. The man kept his head down, picked up his chopsticks, and lifted the meat. He didn't have a good grip, and the meat fell back down. After two or three attempts, his ears turning red enough to bleed, he finally, shakily, shoved the meat into his mouth. I let out a sigh of relief. He was still willing to eat what I served him; I guess I hadn't lost favor entirely. But this meal was incredibly depressing. He ate whatever I served him, never once lifting his head. It wasn't until I saw the table full of food was almost completely wiped out that I realized Arthur was about to eat himself sick. After dinner, I sent the nanny away, gritted my teeth, and put on that revealing purple nightgown. This was Arthur's favorite. In the past, I only wore it when I wanted to buy a new designer bag. Tonight, I was determined to see if he was still up to the task. Good news: he was. Bad news: Arthur, with his lower half noticeably swollen and a nosebleed, ran away. I sat on the edge of the bed like a helpless husband, listening to the roar of a car engine fading into the distance. Just moments ago, I, freshly changed, had locked eyes with the man who had just walked in the door. His gaze landed on me; my gaze landed on his crotch. Then, a trail of blood slowly trickled down from Arthur's nose. We both stared wide-eyed. "Arthur..." I scrambled to get some tissues and approach him. Arthur was clearly more panicked than I was. Holding his nose with one hand, he made a "stop" gesture at me with the other. "Don't come any closer!" I was startled by his sudden shout and froze in place. Arthur, still holding his nose, stumbled toward the door. "I suddenly remembered I have something to do at the company. You go to sleep first." 3 ... The sound of the car completely vanished. I dejectedly took off my clothes. Even though I didn't want to admit it, the facts were right in front of me. Arthur wasn't interested in me anymore. Otherwise, knowing him, he would have nearly broken the bedframe by now. I took out my phone and opened a job-hunting app. Looking at the postings for $3,000 a month with no room and board, my vision went dark. Just as I thought I was about to go from a pampered canary to a corporate pack mule, Arthur came back. It was noon the next day. I had slept in until eleven, completely giving up. When I went downstairs, I found he was already sitting at the dining table. The man looked up at me. I stood there, brain dead, sporting a massive bedhead. Then, I turned and sprinted back upstairs in a panic. Damn it. He used to always tell me before he came back. In the two years of our relationship, I had never let him see me look this ugly. I always appeared with a full face of makeup, looking my absolute best. Great. Not only had I lost his favor, but he had also seen me at my worst. I threw my hands up, did a quick, sloppy cleanup, and went back downstairs. Arthur was still sitting at the table. "Good afternoon, Chloe." The man's voice stumbled. I didn't have the energy to dwell on it, so I just plopped down right next to him. "Sorry about deliberately standing you up last night. Did you cry?" He looked into my eyes cautiously. I raised my hand and touched my eyelid, restraining the urge to roll my eyes. This was the "peach blossom" makeup I had done on myself. The pitiful, pink corners of the eyes were meant to evoke tenderness, but he mistook them for being swollen from crying. I almost laughed out of sheer annoyance. Arthur must have been possessed. A stupid question like that shouldn't have come from him. Seeing me silent, Arthur pulled a massive shopping bag from behind him. "Don't be mad. Here are some gifts for you." My eyes lit up, and I almost screamed when I opened the bag. So many bags! Why was he being so generous today? Not that he was stingy normally—after all, Arthur had even given me a supplementary credit card. But in the past, he would just transfer money and let me buy things myself. I lovingly picked up the bags, one by one. The joy was quickly washed away by terror. This must be a severance package. The more I thought about it, the more plausible it seemed. The bags in my hands suddenly lost their appeal. Arthur watched my expression, speaking cautiously. "Do you not like them?" I forced a stiff smile. "No, I do. Are you sleeping here tonight?" This topic once again plunged the atmosphere in the living room to freezing point. Arthur's gaze began to wander. "The company is really busy lately. I'll probably have to stay there for a while..." My heart turned completely cold. Such a clumsy excuse. It was just a polite, adult way of rejecting me. Sure enough, these expensive bags were my severance pay. For the next few days, Arthur always made time to eat with me. But only eat. Every time I tried to initiate some physical intimacy, he'd act like a mouse seeing a cat—his hair would stand on end, and he'd jump three feet in the air. Let alone staying the night. After several failed attempts, I opened the job-hunting app again. I had just managed to negotiate a $3,000 job with no room and board up to $3,200 when Arthur returned again. I put down my phone, deciding to try one last time. If he pushed me away this time, I would give up completely. "Do you like them?" This time he brought back a bouquet of flowers. Very vibrant yellow roses. Yellow roses symbolize farewell and separation. I sighed, losing even the interest to take off my outer clothes and reveal my "battle armor." The man had practically spelled it out for me, telling me to get lost if I knew what was good for me. What was I still struggling for? Arthur had a high sex drive. During our two years together, almost every day I ended up with weak legs and had to be carried into the bathroom by him. He hadn't been back home recently, yet he looked radiant and energetic every day, as if he was ten years younger. He was definitely getting his needs met outside. Because he had found a canary he liked and obsessed over more, he wouldn't touch me, and was constantly hinting for me to leave. I took the flowers, forcing a smile. "I like them." Then, I turned around, said I was going to change clothes, and went back to my room. I took off my seductive clothes and pulled a contract out of the nightstand. We had signed this two years ago, renewable annually. Seeing that it was about to expire next month, I had originally planned to renew it after he returned from his business trip. Now, it seemed there was no need. I smiled bitterly and slowly opened the contract. To be honest, I was very reluctant to let go. Even though Arthur and I had no emotional investment, having a top-tier handsome guy giving me money daily, who was great in bed and kept himself clean, was truly a rare find. I took a deep breath, holding the contract, and walked towards the study. I, Chloe Song, had stooped to being a canary. But I still had my dignity. The contract clearly stated that if either party wanted to end the relationship, or found someone else, it could be terminated. I was going to end this relationship now and go take that $3,200/month job. Arthur wasn't in the living room. I walked to the window and looked out at the courtyard; his car was still there. So where did he go? Just as I was wondering, the man's helpless voice came from around the corner by the study. "How did it go contacting that brain specialist abroad?" "I know appointments are hard to get, but you can't just watch your buddy live the rest of his life like this idiot, right?" "I went to sleep and woke up going from eighteen to twenty-seven. The memories in between seem to have been eaten by a dog." "The company is a minor issue. I can figure out those documents if I try hard enough. The real problem is my girlfriend." The hand holding the contract trembled. Sure enough, a woman's intuition is always accurate. Especially for a beautiful woman like me. It's even more accurate. Arthur really had gotten a girlfriend. But what did 'eighteen to twenty-seven' mean? Before I could figure it out, the next second, I heard my own name. "When did I start dating? Didn't I tell you? It's Chloe Song! I probably didn't brag about it because I was afraid you'd get jealous." "My girlfriend now asks me every night if we can sleep together." He sighed. "It's a good thing my crush became my girlfriend, but I'm really terrified of blowing my cover. I'm so pent up I'm about to explode, but I don't dare touch her." I was completely bewildered. Crush? Me? What was Arthur talking about? I didn't understand. He was still complaining pitifully. "You think I'm crazy too, don't you? I think so too. You have no idea how cute she is, swaying around in front of me all day." "She even washes up all nice and smells good to seduce me every day. I absolutely can't handle it. I'm afraid to go home." "I'm just venting to you, don't you dare imagine it." I looked at the contract in my hand, deep in thought. Wait, if what Arthur is saying is true... Then not only have I not lost favor, but I'm actually getting a promotion? "You need to think of something fast. I need to get my memory back quickly. If Chloe finds out and wants to break up with me, I'll hang myself at your door the next day." The call ended. The man's footsteps were getting closer. I panicked, clutching the contract, and ran back to my room. Back in my room, I shoved the contract back into the nightstand. My thoughts were a tangled mess. Arthur and I had absolutely never met before. At least, in my memory, we had no connection. Our first meeting was in a coffee shop. I was being scolded by the boss for clumsily breaking a cup. Arthur just appeared like that. His broad back shielded me from all the reprimands, and just like that, he pulled me out of that impoverished environment. When he offered to cover all the medical expenses for me and my puppy, I didn't hesitate to search online for a sugar baby contract template. He froze for a few seconds, then signed those few pages. My puppy, who I depended on for survival, ultimately wasn't saved. But my relationship with Arthur continued in this ambiguous way. In the past, when Arthur took me to banquets, other female companions would enviously tell me that Arthur really liked me. I didn't really believe it. I thought he just liked my body. But now... I opened the wardrobe, his recent words echoing in my mind. If the eighteen-year-old Arthur had a crush on me, what did he like most? I decided to personally verify the truth of his words. Looking at the school uniform in my hand, I recalled my eighteen-year-old self and tied my hair into a neat ponytail. "Chloe, time for lunch..." The moment I finished changing, Arthur's voice came from outside the door. I looked in the mirror at my bare face and the school uniform, feeling like I had instantly traveled back to being eighteen. Bracing myself, I opened the door. 4 Arthur's hand, raised to knock on the door, froze mid-air. I took a deep breath and looked up at him. The moment the man's amber pupils clearly saw my appearance, they violently contracted. The air stalled for three seconds. Arthur seemed completely stunned, his hand still maintaining that awkward posture. I blinked, raising my arm to hold his hand. With a thump, the man fell to his knees on the floor. I stepped back in fright. The sharp pain in his knees seemed to snap his sanity back as well. "What are you..." I looked at Arthur kneeling on the floor. It was an angle I had never seen before; it was quite novel. Arthur was very tall. When we interacted, I always had to look up at him when he spoke to me. Every time I looked at his sharp jawline, I wondered how much milk he must have drank to grow so tall. This was the first time I saw the fluffy top of his head. It was rather cute. Arthur kept his head down, not daring to look at me, his face flushed bright red. "I... I was practicing proposing." He stammered. I looked at him kneeling on both knees and tried hard to hold back my laughter. Who proposes on both knees? It looked like he was visiting a grave. But I didn't expose him. I stepped forward and tried to pull him up. "Let's go eat." Arthur shrank back in terror. My hand paused. "It's fine. You go downstairs first; I'll get up myself." I looked at him silently, then down at the clothes I was wearing. Is this really necessary? It's just holding hands, and his legs turned to jelly like this. I figured the young Arthur had a very low psychological tolerance; I needed to increase the dosage tonight. By the time Arthur came downstairs, I was already half done eating. He sat cautiously across from me, not even daring to lift his head. My eyes darted around. I stood up, walked a circle around the dining table. Then, I sat down right next to him. The hand Arthur was using to hold his chopsticks froze. "Try this dish I made..." I pushed the dish closer to him. The man frowned slightly. "Isn't there a nanny at home? Why are you still cooking? Is he abusing you?" Then, as if realizing he misspoke, he coughed lightly twice. "Am I abusing you?" I shook my head, picked up some food with my chopsticks, and placed it in his bowl. "I only made it because you like it. Do you not like it anymore?" Arthur put the food in his mouth, staying silent for two seconds before speaking. "It's very good. I like it." Consequently, that plate of food was eaten clean. After dinner, he grabbed his coat again, trying to slip away. I was quick and grabbed his arm. "You've been busy for days. Even if you don't come back to keep me company at night, can't you just sit with me for a bit during your lunch break?" I spoke pitifully. Arthur swallowed hard, and like a marionette, he was led by me toward the living room sofa. I turned on the TV, then lazily leaned against his shoulder. Arthur's whole body went rigid, breathing heavily like he was about to die. I pretended not to notice. I reached out to touch his leg. The man was so startled he tried to get up and run, but I forcefully locked my arms around his waist.
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