When the college entrance exam results were released, Arthur took the top spot in the state. Meanwhile, I, who had consistently maintained the number one rank in our grade, didn't even make the cut-off for a bachelor's degree. Arthur smiled, a brazen and reckless expression on his face. "Chloe, a bet is a bet. You are my girlfriend now." I walked up to him and shoved him off the roof. Everything around me began to play backward like a rewinding movie. Time rewound to the day Arthur transferred to our school. Staring at that annoying face on the podium, I tightened my grip on my pen. It doesn't matter. I will eliminate this obstacle of a male lead, time and time again. 1 The first time I realized I was the female lead in a sweet campus romance novel, The story had already ended a long time ago. I had been married to Arthur for eight years, and our son was six. He was a highly anticipated rising star in the tech world, while I held a token position in his company. My main responsibility was staying home and taking care of our child. It was our eighth wedding anniversary. Arthur was in a car accident. By the time I rushed to the hospital, he had just come out of surgery. The doctor said he needed a family member to stay and observe him for 72 hours post-operation. I sat by the hospital bed, looking at Arthur. His head was wrapped in bandages, one leg in a cast suspended in the air. His breathing was faint under the oxygen mask. Secretary Sullivan stood at the door of the hospital room, her eyes red, looking pitiful and delicate. "Mrs. Vance, I'm so sorry. If it weren't for me, Mr. Vance wouldn't be hurt so badly." She covered her mouth, choking back sobs. My son, who was on the sofa, immediately ran over and took her hand. "Don't cry, Miss Sullivan. Daddy will be fine!" That scene was particularly glaring. My own flesh and blood, after his father's car accident, Was comforting his secretary, not me. "Leo," I said, my voice terribly hoarse. "Come to Mommy." My son turned to look at me with undisguised disgust. "Can't you see Miss Sullivan is crying?" "Mom, you're not a kid anymore. Stop making a scene." Secretary Sullivan hurriedly wiped her tears. "Be a good boy, Leo. Go to your mom. I'm fine." That's what she said, but she didn't let go of the child's hand. 2 I looked away and turned my gaze back to Arthur on the bed. The afterglow of the setting sun filtered through the blinds, Casting alternating stripes of light and shadow on his face. I had looked at this face for thirteen years. From seventeen to thirty. From our school days to walking down the aisle. Why did it feel increasingly unfamiliar to me? I thought of this morning. While chopping vegetables in the kitchen, I accidentally cut my hand. Blood gushed out for quite a while before I reacted and looked for a Band-Aid. Enduring the pain, I finished cooking three dishes and a soup. I rushed to deliver it to Arthur's company before twelve. When the two young girls at the front desk saw me, they exchanged a knowing look. "Mrs. Vance, here to deliver lunch again? Mr. Vance is in a meeting." "I'll wait for him." "Maybe you should just leave the food here. Mr. Vance has been quite busy lately, he might not have time." "I'll wait for him," I stubbornly repeated. They curled their lips and ignored me. An hour later, Arthur finally stepped out of the elevator, Surrounded by a group of people in suits. Seeing me, he frowned and walked over. "Why are you here again? Didn't I tell you to get a good rest at home?" He had a smile on his face, but his tone carried a faint hint of impatience. "I made your favorite crab-roe pork meatballs..." Arthur took the insulated bag and put his arm around my shoulder. "What happened to your hand?" He noticed the Band-Aid on my finger. "I accidentally cut it while chopping vegetables." Arthur's voice dropped: "You can't even do such a simple thing right..." Noticing the gazes from the people around us, he immediately switched to a gentle tone: "You've worked hard, honey. You must be more careful in the future, okay?" At that moment, I felt very strange. I felt like an exhibit. Used to showcase Arthur's "loving husband" persona to the public. 3 We ate lunch in Arthur's office. He took a few bites and put down his chopsticks. "The meatballs are too mushy, the ribs are dry, and the asparagus is overcooked." I nervously rubbed the hem of my shirt. "I'm sorry, I'll pay more attention next time." "It's not about paying attention," Arthur pulled a tissue and wiped his mouth. "It's an attitude problem. I'm so busy with work every day. Is it too much to ask for a decent meal when I come home? Maya pulls all-nighters for projects, working non-stop, coordinating domestically and internationally. You just stay at home and do this little bit, and you can't even do it right?" Maya. Maya Sullivan. It's her again. My son had said something similar to me yesterday. I was tutoring him in math, but no matter how I explained it, I couldn't make it clear. I was sweating profusely from anxiety. "Mom, you're so stupid." My son sneered and pushed the workbook away. "Last time Miss Sullivan explained a problem to me, I understood it immediately." "Dad is right. You're just not as smart as Miss Sullivan." The words of a six-year-old child cut like a knife. When did this start? It seemed to be after Leo was born. My brain felt like it was getting worse and worse. Papers that I used to memorize after one read, I now had to read over and over again, and I would still forget them right after. Math problems that I used to solve effortlessly, I now stared at for ages without a clear line of thought. The doctor said this was due to hormonal fluctuations postpartum, a normal phenomenon. Arthur said I was just too anxious and needed to rest more. But I knew that wasn't it. Something had been extracted from my body a long time ago. "The patient needs to rest. One family member is enough to stay and observe." The nurse's voice pulled me back to reality. Secretary Sullivan had already stood up, holding my son's hand. "Mrs. Vance, I'll take Leo to get something to eat first." "You look terrible. Do you need me to order some food for you?" "I'm not hungry." "Then we'll be going now. Remember to let me know when Mr. Vance wakes up." She gave me a deep look, unable to hide the smugness at the corner of her lips. "If Mr. Vance hadn't shielded me immediately, I would be the one lying there." I looked at Maya, this woman who thrived in Arthur's company like a fish in water. Young, beautiful, smart, and capable. Everything I once possessed but now lost. She had it all. 4 The door closed, leaving only me and the unconscious Arthur. I stared at the ECG monitor, my mind beginning to wander. After failing the college entrance exam, my college applications were a complete mess. Eventually, I ended up at a local community college. Arthur went to a top university in New York. We started a long-distance relationship. He called me every week. In his words, he casually mentioned how heavy his coursework in New York was. How outstanding his peers were, and then he would change the subject: "But you wouldn't understand this anyway." "By the way, did you eat on time today? Don't forget because of studying. That school of yours, there's not much point in studying anyway." During my three years of college, no matter how hard I tried, My grades remained mediocre. It felt like I had really become stupid. Later, Arthur successfully launched his startup. After graduation, I naturally joined his company. I held a token position as an administrative assistant. He said it would be easier to take care of me this way, saying my current state wasn't suitable for a high-pressure job. Marriage, having a child, becoming a full-time stay-at-home mom. Eight years. I looked at the cut on my finger. The edge of the Band-Aid was already peeling up slightly, Revealing the pale flesh underneath. If the seventeen-year-old me saw the thirty-year-old me now, what would she say? That girl who once dreamed of joining the astrophysics department. Would she recognize this housewife who couldn't even explain an elementary school math problem, Who was despised as stupid by her son, whose cooking was criticized by her husband, and who was looked down upon by his secretary? The ECG monitor suddenly emitted a low alarm. Arthur's fingers twitched, his brow furrowed; it seemed he was about to wake up. In that moment, a sudden surge of hatred rose from the bottom of my heart. Like a trapped beast discovering it had been imprisoned for eight whole years. Discovering its claws and fangs had been pulled out one by one. Discovering its pride had been ground away little by little. Just to become an auxiliary piece that fit the "loving husband male lead" persona. My hand reached toward Arthur's face, pausing in mid-air. Then, moving downward. Past his eyes, the bridge of his nose, his jaw. And gripped that oxygen tube. 5 "Arthur, do you remember when you transferred to our school in junior year?" "On the first monthly exam, you scored a 32 in math, and the teacher asked me to tutor you." Arthur's eyelids fluttered; he seemed to hear me. "I explained the problems to you, but your mind was elsewhere." "You said, what's the point of girls reading so many books? They'll end up getting married anyway." "At the time, I thought you were so shallow, so ridiculous." My fingers tightened. "Now I understand, the ridiculous one was me." I gave a hard yank. The oxygen tube disconnected. Arthur's breathing suddenly became rapid, his chest heaving violently. The ECG monitor blared a piercing alarm. I watched Arthur struggle. Watched his face turn purple from oxygen deprivation. Watched his mouth unconsciously open and close. There was no fear, no regret, only a strange sense of satisfaction. It felt like I had finally pulled out a thorn that had been stuck in my throat for eight years, pulling it out with flesh and blood. The ECG line eventually flatlined. The walls of the hospital room began to distort, the fluorescent lights on the ceiling stretching into blurred bands of light. Time began to rewind. The smell of disinfectant was replaced by a faint, milky scent. 6 I sat on the bed in my bedroom, holding a soft infant in my arms. The baby had just finished feeding, his tiny hands tightly grasping my collar, sleeping soundly. This was when Leo had just turned one month old. The bedroom door was pushed open, and Arthur walked in holding a cigarette. It made me cough. "Don't smoke in the house, the baby is still small." Arthur clicked his tongue impatiently but still crushed the cigarette out in the ashtray on the nightstand. "My mom called today, said she wants to come over and help with the baby. I told her there's no need, you're just at home doing nothing anyway." I looked down at the baby in my arms, my voice very soft: "I want to wait until Leo is six months old, wean him, and go back to work." "Work?" Arthur looked as if he had heard a joke. "What can you do in your current state? Your memory is so bad. Last time I asked you to get a document from the company, you got the wrong one." "Staying at home and taking good care of the baby is your most important job right now." He lit another cigarette, this time sitting directly on the edge of the bed to smoke. The smoke billowed toward me. Little Leo squirmed uneasily in my arms, whimpering softly. Arthur blew out a puff of smoke, looking at me through the haze. "Is the money I make not enough to support you? Why must you go out and show your face in public?" "Do you know how fierce the competition is out there now? With your current condition, what kind of job could you possibly do well?" Ash fell onto the bedsheet, burning a tiny black hole. I watched that black hole expand continuously. Like a trapped beast, opening its massive maw. Wait, I remember I killed Arthur. In the hospital room, I pulled his oxygen tube. And then I returned here. "I'm talking to you, did you hear me?" Arthur frowned, reaching out to touch my face. "Postpartum depression still hasn't cleared up? Should we go see the doctor again?" His hand froze in mid-air. I had already raised that ashtray. With all my strength, I smashed it viciously against his temple. 7 Arthur's expression froze, his eyes widening in shock. He seemed entirely unable to comprehend what had happened. Blood flowed from his temple, Down over his eyebrow, into his eye. He opened his mouth but made no sound. His body fell backward, crashing heavily onto the floor, a large pool of fresh blood spreading. The world began to twist and spin again. The baby's cries faded, the weight in my arms disappeared. The smell of blood was replaced by the fragrance of flowers. I stood in the middle of a lawn, wearing a pristine white wedding dress. Holding a bouquet of fragrant, blooming flowers. Time had rewound again. The young and handsome Arthur, dressed in a suit and tie, held the rings, a brilliant smile on his face. The officiant asked: "Miss Chloe, do you take Mr. Arthur Vance to be your wedded husband, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death do you part?" The eyes of all the guests were focused on me. Everyone's face radiated with blessings and smiles. It was a perfect wedding scene. But the hand holding my bouquet was trembling. Not out of fear, but out of excitement. The pervasive sense of confinement that had followed me like a shadow for eight years—making me increasingly dull, increasingly submissive—was vanishing. My mind was clearer than it had ever been. Like a dense fog dispersed by a gale, I clearly remembered everything. How I had securely held the number one rank in my grade for three years of high school. I remembered the gold medal in the national physics olympiad. I remembered the dreams of the stars and the sea written in my notebooks. I remembered the absurd failure on the day the college entrance exam results were announced. I remembered the day Arthur transferred to our school. Speaking carelessly to me: "You're the top student? You don't look like much." This wasn't a love story. It was a meticulously planned theft. My life, my talent, my future. They were all altered by an invisible force, And grafted onto Arthur. The meaning of my existence was merely to serve as a footnote in his perfect life. To make the readers sigh: "Look, even the most outstanding, top-student female lead fell for him, willing to give up everything to support her husband and raise their child." All the charm bestowed upon him was to gild his mediocre essence. 8 "I do not." My voice echoed through the microphone to everyone's ears. The smile on Arthur's face froze. A collective gasp echoed from the guest seating. Arthur's parents stood up abruptly, their faces extremely ugly. The officiant hurriedly tried to smooth things over: "The bride is too nervous and misspoke. It's okay, let's do it again..." "I do not want to marry Arthur." I interrupted the officiant, articulating every word with absolute clarity. "Not today, not tomorrow, not in this lifetime." Arthur reacted, stepping forward and grabbing my wrist. His grip was strong enough to crush my wrist bones. He forced a smile on his face. "Chloe, stop making a scene. So many people are watching." "Let go," I said. "Do you know what you are doing?" Arthur's voice was very low, carrying a threat: "Hurry up and finish the ceremony. Whatever it is, we'll talk about it when we get back!" The murmurs from the crowd grew louder. I looked at Arthur's face, twisted with anger and embarrassment. And suddenly smiled. "Arthur, do you know why you were able to become the top scorer in the college entrance exam?" He froze. I leaned close to him. And said in a voice only the two of us could hear: "Because there was a thief." "A thief who stole what was mine and stuffed it into your empty brain." Arthur's pupils shrank abruptly. The next second, I grabbed his tie backhandedly. And with all my might, I slammed him into the champagne tower next to us. Amidst the sound of shattering glass, the back of Arthur's head hit the corner of the table hard. Blood and golden champagne mixed and flowed everywhere. Screams rose and fell around me. But I could no longer hear them. The world spun and inverted. The pristine white wedding dress was replaced by a blue and white school uniform. Time had rewound to the day the college entrance exam results were announced. 9 I stood on the roof of the high school building. The hot summer wind blew the hem of my shirt. A red banner hung at the school gate: "Congratulations to our student Arthur Vance for securing the top spot in the state sciences!" The sports field was buzzing with voices. Everyone was marveling at Arthur being a dark horse, a genius. The protagonist of their conversations stood opposite me, leaning against the roof railing, smiling brazenly. "Chloe, a bet is a bet. You are my girlfriend now." He opened his arms to me, waiting for me to throw myself into his embrace with tears of gratitude. I looked at Arthur. Looking at this idiot forcibly elevated to the altar by the rules of the plot. Every ounce of his charm was built upon my plundered life. Arthur judged from on high: "You girls are all like this, lacking stamina. No matter how hard you try, you can't compare to a boy putting in just a little effort." "Look, I just casually studied and easily defeated you." How ridiculous, how unscientific, how shameless. "Arthur." I spoke calmly: "Do you believe in karma?" He tilted his head slightly, looking puzzled, "What?" "Things stolen must be returned one day." I took a step forward. Arthur instinctively stepped back, his back hitting the roof railing. I reached out, but not to hold his hand. Instead, I pressed against his chest and shoved hard. Arthur's smile vanished, replaced by pure terror. He flailed his arms wildly in the air, trying to grab something. But only air passed through his fingers. "Chloe, are you cra—" The voice abruptly stopped. The speed of the fall was very fast, so fast I could barely hear his shout. Immediately following were shrieks of horror exploding from below. I had already turned and left the roof. The world disintegrated behind me. The school building collapsed like a sandcastle, the sky shattered into pieces. Revealing the void of darkness behind it. Then, light flooded back in.
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