In the pouring rain, I knelt at a funeral for five hours, sobbing—just to earn a sliver of what my "dying" boyfriend Leo needed for surgery. Then I saw him. Smoking in the VIP section, surrounded by sycophants: "Is it true she’s a professional mourner, even pawning her dead mother’s heirlooms for you?" "Imagine her face," they laughed, "when she finds out you’re a billionaire CEO—and this ‘sick boyfriend’ act was just revenge on your ex’s rival." Leo blew a smoke ring. "Her tears are worthless. If she goes blind, so be it." "Damn, Leo, you know how to handle women." "She was born trash," he said coldly. "Her fault for crossing Isabelle." I stifled a sob. Every whispered "I love you"—a lie. Heart hollow, I called my general father: "I’ll take the arranged marriage." ... 1 I hung up, but the laughter from the VIP section didn't stop. "Haha, Leo, you're a master of the game." "I heard that girl’s wailing is pretty melodic. Bet she sounds even better in bed, huh?" Leo shot the speaker a look. "You want to hear?" "I'll record it for you guys next time." "Hey, speaking of which, isn't this a funeral? Why not bring your little crier over? Money's money, right?" Leo took a deep drag from his cigarette and flicked the butt away. "She's not worthy of an occasion like this." "Besides, it's not time yet." The men around him snickered. "Getting soft, Leo? Don't get caught in your own game." "Never." Someone teased, "Leo's smart. It's a good thing you didn't bring her. If she actually managed to save up enough for the surgery, you'd have to stage a fake operation." "No way. Leo's just playing around. He'd never get serious." Everyone fell silent, waiting for his answer. Including me. Finally, I heard his cold, sharp voice. "Of course not. How could I ever marry a funeral crier?" In that instant, my world shattered. Every ounce of pride and self-respect I had was ground into dust. I have no idea how I managed to stumble back to our rented room after accepting the three hundred dollars the butler handed me. At the door, the landlord was waiting, rubbing his fingers together. "Good haul today?" I numbly handed him one hundred and fifty dollars. Yes, it was the landlord who had gotten me this "job." As thanks, I gave him half my earnings every time. I turned to go upstairs, but then I heard his voice, deliberately lowered, on the phone. "Yes, Mr. Leo, she made a good bit again today." "Then raise her rent by fifty percent." I recognized Leo’s voice instantly. The landlord hesitated. "Is... is that a good idea?" "Why not? It's her own fault for being so good at making money." "I tell her I'm not feeling well, and she works herself to the bone crying at funerals for me. I'm honestly afraid she'll save up enough and try to force me to marry her." "That's true. If you actually got married, Miss Isabelle would not be pleased." Leo was silent for a moment. "My guys have been working hard playing along with this act. The bonus will be in your accounts shortly." The next second, the landlord shrieked. "Holy crap! Is that twenty thousand, five hundred and thirty-four dollars and ninety cents?" "Mr. Leo, that's so much! And it's such a specific number." Leo's voice was nonchalant. "It's nothing. Spend it. There's more where that came from." Those few, careless words drained all the strength from my body. That was the exact amount of money I had scraped together over three years, one kneeling session at a time. A wave of helplessness crashed over me, and I crumpled against the wall, sobbing until I thought my lungs would burst. He’d sent me a single-page diagnosis, and I had immediately cut ties with my family to move in and take care of him. And with a few careless words, he had sentenced our three years together to death. If my father knew his daughter had become this pathetic, he’d probably disown me on the spot. 2 Back in the rundown apartment, I quickly started packing my things. But as I looked around, I realized there was almost nothing worth taking. The matching his-and-hers slippers he'd bought me for my birthday, $9.99 for two pairs, free shipping. The ring he'd given me—made from a soda can tab—after I'd spent six months caring for him in the hospital, when he'd cried and promised to marry me. The rainbow-colored kneepads he'd bought me after I started my "job," and the cases of instant noodles in every flavor imaginable. Before him, I was a pampered princess who had never lifted a finger. After him, I ate ramen until I wanted to vomit and never once complained. I truly believed I had found a love that was one of a kind, the most precious thing in the world. Now I knew that even the love was a lie. I opened a drawer. Inside was a thick notebook, filled with my cramped handwriting detailing all his preferences. What he liked to eat, what he didn't, his allergies, a daily log of his medication. On the last page was my blood donation record. During the leanest times, to make sure his "treatment" wasn't interrupted, I would secretly sell my blood. The two days before each donation, I would drag him out for a big meal. He would always tease me. "Were you a starving ghost in a past life?" Back then, I thought it was playful banter. Now, I saw the malice and contempt dripping from his words. He never knew that of the five dollars we spent on breakfast, he ate four dollars and fifty cents' worth. I would gnaw on half a bun and sip from a water bottle, starving until evening when I could finally eat again. I looked around the room: the piss-stained toilet seat, the moldy trash can, the creaky, hard bed. He never cleaned, never acknowledged the filth. Whenever I, fighting back nausea, would try to tidy up, he’d stop me. "Leave it. It's not necessary." At first, I thought he was worried about me overworking myself. Now I knew. He never saw this place as a home. He would pull me into bed, lost in his primal desires, but he never once planned a future that included me. It was time to wake up from this nightmare. In the end, I packed only a few of my own clothes and left quietly. But downstairs, I ran into Leo coming home. He looked surprised. "Aria? You have another gig this late?" Leo's face, once so beloved, now looked like a stranger's. He was pale, panting. "It started pouring the second I stepped out. Luckily, some kind people gave me a ride home." The roar of a luxury car engine filled the air. Standing beside it were several impeccably dressed "kind people," and among them, a woman of breathtaking beauty. I recognized her instantly. It was Isabelle, Leo's real fiancée. Because on her wrist and around her neck were the bracelet and necklace my mother had left me. My breath caught in my throat. Even the heirlooms I’d pawned… he’d had someone manipulate the sale to get them. For three years, I had been living inside a colossal lie. I trembled with rage. My mother had left me two heirlooms. The priceless family bracelet I had pawned to pay for his "treatment." All that was left was the necklace. Now, both pieces were on this woman. What was there left to believe? I walked straight up to her and held out my hand. "My mother's heirlooms. Please give them back." Leo's adoring smile froze. "Aria, what are you doing?" I ignored him, my voice stubborn. "I just want my mother's things back." He forced a gentle smile, trying to explain. "You noticed?" "What a coincidence. The kind person who helped me just happens to be the one who bought your mother's things." "Aria, she helped me, so I gave her the necklace as a thank you. Isn't it a bit ungrateful of you to demand it back?" 3 My face was a cold mask. I reached for the jewelry. Before my fingers even brushed her clothes, Isabelle let out a cry and collapsed to the ground. Her beautiful dress was soaked in the muddy rainwater, and a bruise was already forming on her forehead. "Why did you push me?" I was speechless. I saw a flicker of genuine pain in Leo's usually indifferent eyes. He frowned. "Aria, apologize to her. Now." I laughed in disbelief. "You want me to apologize?" "Go eat shit." Humiliated in front of his friends, Leo's face darkened with anger. "Aria, these people are clearly rich and powerful. You don't want to get on their bad side. Just apologize." Yes, they were rich and powerful. And so was he, standing right in front of me. The life-saving money I had scraped together, he could give away without blinking. "Never." Seeing my firm refusal, Leo's friends egged him on. "Dude, are you whipped? Can't even control your own girlfriend?" "If you won't apologize, then you can pay." "That dress Isabelle is wearing is a global limited edition. Fifty thousand dollars." I closed my eyes. "I don't have any money." Leo was furious now. He shoved me to my knees. His voice was harsh. "If you don't have money, then get on your knees and kowtow. What's the big deal?" "You kneel for a living every day. What's so embarrassing about it? Is it so hard to bow your head for me?" His words were like a carving knife, scraping across my heart, each one drawing blood. To earn money for his treatment, my knees had become calloused, but I had never uttered a single word of complaint. But now, for something I didn't even do, he was grinding my dignity into the dirt. All to appease his precious first love. The jeers and taunts of the crowd were like daggers, piercing the last shred of my pride. I started to unbutton my shirt. "You want money, right? I don't have any. But I can pay with my body. How about it?" Leo stared at me like I was insane. "Aria, do you have any idea what you're saying? Are you crazy?" I looked at him, my eyes unfocused. "Weren't you the one who said you'd record me for your friends next time? Who wants to go first?" His pupils contracted, his face turning a ghastly white. "You… you heard?" Leo's voice trembled. "No, that's not it, let me explain..." I faced him, my voice dripping with scorn. "Explain what? That you're not sick? That the late-stage leukemia was all a lie?" "You enjoyed watching me kneel and cry for money every day, just so you could squander it all, didn't you? All because I outshone Isabelle at our thesis defense?" "Don't worry about it. It was only the twenty thousand I scraped together over three years. Tell your friends to spend it well." I gritted my teeth. "Leo, I truly wish you really did have leukemia." I finally understood that hate is just love, shattered. Swallowing my humiliation, I continued to undress. Leo stopped me. He fumbled to cover me with his jacket, his voice frantic. "Aria, I'm begging you, stop." "What's wrong? Don't want to share with your friends anymore?" "Leo, you're so selfish. I feel sorry for the friends who had to act along with you for three years." He flew into a rage. "Aria, I've already apologized! What more do you want?" 4 I didn't hesitate for a second. "Let's break up. And give me back my mother's heirlooms." "I know my status as a funeral crier is unlucky, low-class, and unworthy of a tycoon like you." "I know my place. I won't wait for you to get tired of me and kick me to the curb. I'll leave on my own!" My mother's heirlooms were meant for me to find the love of my life, to be my dowry. I had only pawned them to save Leo's life. To think that all this time, I was living in his trap, played like a fool for three years. My nails dug into my palms. I had been so blind, so utterly disappointing to my parents. "Aria, listen to me, at first I really was—" "I don't want to hear any of it. You played me for three years. I'm begging you, just let me go, okay?" Leo finally exploded. "What are you, a funeral crier, putting on airs for? So what if I lied to you?" "You're a low-life. Marrying you is impossible. But if you're obedient, I can make sure you're well-cared for, for the rest of your life. Think about it." "I've thought it through very clearly. I want my mother's things," I said, enunciating every word. A crack appeared in Leo's composure. "You're being unreasonable." Isabelle stepped forward haughtily. "You want them back? Fine. I paid a good ten thousand for them. After being worn by me for a while, they've appreciated in value. How about twenty thousand? Cash." Then she pointed to my knees. "Oh, I almost forgot. You earn a living with these. How about you kneel for three full days, and then I'll give them back to you?" The crowd erupted in jeers. "With her pathetic, broke-ass life? Twenty thousand for three days! Miss Isabelle, you're too generous!" "She could cry at funerals for the rest of her life and not make that much!" "Maybe if she found a sugar daddy. She's got the looks for it. Our Mr. Leo is rich, handsome, and fit. She got lucky to be with him for so long." Leo feigned concern. "Babe, just hold on. Kneel for three days, let Isabelle cool off." Hearing this, Isabelle grew even more smug. She tossed the jewelry up and down in her hand. "When Leo gave me this, I thought it was some rare treasure. Turns out it's just your dead mother's stuff. How tacky." With a flick of her wrist, she sent the heirlooms flying in a perfect arc, straight into a storm drain. The rushing rainwater swallowed them without a trace. My vision went red. "No!" I wanted to dive into the drain after them, but Leo held me back, his grip like a vise. "Are you trying to get yourself killed? They're not even that valuable! As long as you stay with me, no strings attached, what can't you have?" He didn't understand. Those things were more precious to me than my own life, something money could never measure. I stared at him, my eyes burning, and slapped him hard across the face. Then I turned and walked away. Behind me, Leo's lackeys were already sucking up to him. "Leo, man, just let a woman like that go. You're not actually going to chase her, are you?" "No way, you can't have actually fallen for that funeral crier, right?" The rain fell harder, and Leo's reply was lost in the storm. I went straight back to the home I hadn't set foot in for three years. A few days later, a friend of my father's, a respected elder, passed away. I went to the funeral, as requested. At the entrance, I ran into Leo and his entourage.
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