“He’s a pathetic stray. Only I’d ever feed him. Where else would he go?” My wife sneered, her voice dripping with contempt. There she stood, safe and clean beside her male best friend, laughing into her phone. And I—the “stray” she mocked—stood nearby, covered in soot, skin blackened by smoke. Moments before, I’d rushed into a burning building after her desperate call, believing she was trapped. I found her unharmed, amused by my panic. “Ashton, you fool,” she laughed, tears in her eyes. “Fooled ninety-nine times, and you still fall for it.” A bystander spoke up: “Aren’t you afraid he’ll divorce you?” She didn’t flinch. “He caused my first love’s death. This suffering is nothing.” That’s why she was sure I’d never leave. I didn’t argue. I just gripped the medical report in my hand, hidden beneath my stained clothes. She didn’t know: I was dying. This time, I was really leaving. 1 I looked at my wife, Scarlett, standing before me. The disgusted expression on her face mirrored the faces of those who had bullied me in my memories. But in the past, every time I was humiliated, she would stand in front of me without hesitation, protecting and caring for me. She even risked breaking rules and facing family punishment, just to stand up for me. Everyone envied us, saying we were childhood sweethearts, truly meant for each other. Both our parents had also arranged our marriage. However, if I had known that after we married, we would become enemies filled with mutual loathing, I would have preferred to remain her friend forever. Right now, Scarlett and her male best friend were still laughing, making a clown out of me. But I finally spoke the words I hadn’t dared to utter in five years of marriage: “Scarlett, let’s get a divorce!” The laughter abruptly stopped. A flicker of surprise crossed Scarlett’s eyes, and she immediately refused without thinking: “I don’t agree.” I looked up at her, taken aback. Did she still have some feelings for me? Before I could ponder it, the next second, Scarlett raised an eyebrow, displeased. “You know that if I divorce, my family’s company stock will drop. You’re deliberately using that to threaten me, aren’t you?” “Ashton, don’t forget, you owe me a life. You have to spend your entire life repaying it. Don’t even think about escaping.” My heart constricted, and my sickly pale complexion grew even whiter. Yes. She hated me too much to have any feelings for me. I was just deluding myself. Five years ago, because of my marriage into her family, Scarlett was forced to break up with her first love, Liam Hunt. At first, knowing the arranged marriage was unavoidable, she didn’t resist. She even solemnly promised me: “Ashton, I’ll forget Liam and live a good life with you.” “It’s just that our breakup was so abrupt, I’m afraid he might do something foolish in a moment of despair. Can we keep our marriage a secret for a while before telling him?” Just being by her side was enough for me, so I naturally agreed to her wishes, nodding to a secret wedding, not to be publicly announced yet. But on our wedding day, news of our arranged marriage leaked online, a powerful alliance that became known to everyone. Liam, rushing to the scene, tragically died in a car accident. Scarlett rushed, heartbroken, to the morgue, and found a blood-stained wedding invitation on his body. Everyone around her accused me of spreading the news, and of sending the invitation. “Ashton, I promised to live a good life with you, so why did you maliciously cause his death?” Scarlett was furious on the spot, convinced that I had caused her first love’s death. I explained countless times that it had nothing to do with me, but she refused to believe me ever again. From then on, she despised me, and her attitude changed completely. She not only spoke cruelly to me but also openly kept Liam’s doppelgänger, Alex Miller, by her side, claiming he was just a male best friend for the sake of reputation. She often found amusement in tormenting me daily, games like today’s often played out over these five years of marriage. Facing their taunts, I had grown accustomed to them, keeping my head down and remaining silent, meekly listening to her reprimands. Fresh out of the fire, I was covered in soot, my clothes torn in several places, looking utterly wretched. Scarlett’s friends, unable to watch any longer, handed me a jacket. My parched throat managed a faint thank you. But Alex rushed forward, ripped the jacket off, and threw it aside, pointing at me and raging: “Ashton, you caused your mother’s death, and you caused Scarlett’s beloved’s death.” “You carry two lives on your conscience. You don’t deserve a good life. Just endure the ridicule and scorn of others, and walk back step by step.” I instinctively looked at Scarlett. Scarlett said nothing, tacitly approving Alex’s actions. I smiled bitterly. My mother died in childbirth with me. My father and brother both believed I was responsible for her death, subjecting me to constant harsh treatment from childhood—either depriving me of clothes and food, or verbally and physically abusing me. Scarlett, however, always quietly extended a helping hand, even comforting me: “Life and death are fated. Your mother’s death isn’t your fault. Don’t let others’ words affect you.” But now, she allowed Alex to speak of me this way, without stopping him, which was no different from their tacit belief that everything was my fault. My father and brother despised me; now even the only light in my life, Scarlett, hated me intensely. But I couldn’t understand, I had always been so careful with my words and actions since childhood, where exactly did I go wrong? A wave of pain coursed through my body. I shook my head. Never mind, I won’t think about it. Anyway, I have late-stage lung cancer and not much time left to live. When I die, they’ll probably feel their vengeance is complete. I walked on in silence, Alex happily recording a video behind me. A flicker of something—perhaps reluctance—crossed Scarlett’s eyes. She waved her hand, stopping him. “Enough. He’s my husband, after all, even if just in name. If passersby film this and upload it, it’ll damage my family’s reputation.” After all, she marketed herself as a dutiful wife. If word got out about her mistreating me, her live-in husband, it would undoubtedly invite criticism. She warned everyone present not to spread what happened today. Then she drove me home, roughly pushing me out of the car. Without a backward glance, she slammed her foot on the accelerator, and the car sped away. The house staff secretly chuckled, calling me a usurper and saying I deserved what I got. Not one dared to interfere. I was long past caring. I limped back to the bedroom. After showering and changing, exhausted from the day, I drifted into a hazy sleep. I don’t know how much time passed. Suddenly, there was a loud bang. My bedroom door was violently kicked open. 2 Alex burst in, enraged, ordering his bodyguards to drag me from the bed onto the floor. He then raised his hand and slapped me several times across the face. My ears rang, and through the buzzing, I heard Alex’s roar: “Ashton, I underestimated you! You actually dared to post this online, stirring up public opinion and ruining Scarlett’s reputation!” I was still dazed. Scarlett, heels clicking, walked into this room, a room she hadn’t entered since our marriage. Alex lowered his head and apologized: “Scarlett, I’m sorry. I silenced everyone present, but I never imagined Ashton would leak it himself.” “It seems your little ‘fire prank’ angered him quite a bit. He’s even willing to go down with you.” Only then did I understand. It turned out that the incident where they ridiculed me during the day had been exposed, and they were blaming me for it. Scarlett was about to unleash her fury on me, but then she suddenly noticed my swollen face. She paused, demanding from Alex: “You hit him?” How could she be concerned? The pain she inflicted on me was a hundred times worse than a mere slap. Alex raised an eyebrow, retorting, “What, Scarlett? Are you feeling sorry for him?” Scarlett looked at his face, nine-tenths similar to her first love’s, and gave a haughty snort. “Next time, don’t hit his face. It looks bad.” My lowered gaze darkened. So, she was afraid of damaging the company’s image and her own. If not for that slight concern for public opinion, she wouldn’t even spare me a glance, even if I were beaten to death. Scarlett looked down at me. “Ashton, did you leak that news?” Of course not me. But if I said so, would she believe it? Ever since Alex moved in, he had repeatedly slandered me. No matter how much I explained, or even presented evidence, she only believed Alex. Simply because he resembled her first love, Scarlett saw everything through a biased lens, convinced that every fault was mine. Each time I tried to explain, her hatred for me deepened. Now, I was tired of explaining. I merely hummed in acknowledgment: “If that’s what you believe, then it is.” Hearing my answer, Scarlett’s emotions seemed to find release. With tear-rimmed eyes, she threw her bag at me. “What? This time you’re not stubborn, you admit you were wrong?” “Ashton, if you had just admitted your mistake earlier, you wouldn’t have suffered so much!” She had the housekeeper bring me ice to put on my face, her tone still distant. “Once the swelling goes down, come with me to the press conference to show affection and clear up the rumors.” Seeing that Scarlett had no further punishment planned and her attitude had softened considerably, Alex tugged at her, confused. “Scarlett, Ashton caused a lot of trouble for our PR department. Are you just going to let him off so easily?” Usually, Scarlett was almost completely subservient to his words, but this time she raised an eyebrow, brushing him off. “Didn’t you hit him? He’s been punished. Let’s not let it happen again.” A flicker of hope inexplicably ignited within me, and I asked her expectantly: “Scarlett, if I die, will you be sad?” Scarlett looked displeased. “Ashton, don’t push your luck! You’re getting off easy.” “If you die, I’ll set off fireworks for a month to celebrate.” I gave a bitter smile. I had imagined too much. She was still the Scarlett who hated me to the core. The pain in my lungs spread throughout my body. I bit down on my teeth, forcing myself not to groan, but inside, I felt a subtle sense of liberation. Good. Her wish would soon come true. 3 Seeing my face contorted in pain. Scarlett glanced at me. “Wipe that jaundiced makeup off your face. I’m not falling for your self-pity act.” I froze. She thought my sickly pale face was due to makeup, little did she know, I was close to death. She finished speaking and was about to leave when her assistant approached with a phone. “Ms. Su, your call.” Scarlett put it on speaker. From the other end, her competitor’s light laugh drifted through. “Ms. Su, the online rumors are just a warning. You’d best withdraw from this bid.” “Otherwise, if I’m not careful, all the videos I have might just get released.” The call ended. Scarlett clicked on the video, her face turning ashen. It turned out that the online rumors were spread by her competitor; they had all wrongly accused me. Alex apologized, remorseful. “Scarlett, it’s my fault for not checking thoroughly. I almost messed things up.” Scarlett couldn’t bring herself to blame him, sighing. “Ultimately, it’s our carelessness that gave others something to exploit. We just need to be more careful next time.” Seeing Scarlett frowning. Alex gritted his teeth, helped me up, and offered a stiff apology. “Ashton, I misunderstood you this time. If you’re upset, hit me back.” Before I could even move, Scarlett lovingly reached out to block me. “Nonsense! You were looking out for me. He himself didn’t speak up clearly, so it’s not your fault.” Heh. It was my fault again. But when had she ever believed my explanations? I remained silent. She, in front of me, her husband, hooked her arm through Alex’s, consoling him as they left, not even sparing a glance for me, the wrongly accused. The people in the room dispersed with them. My strained body could no longer hold out. A dizzy spell hit me, and I collapsed to the ground. When consciousness returned, my nostrils were filled with the scent of disinfectant. I was about to open my eyes when I heard Alex’s hushed, gleeful voice: “Ashton has late-stage lung cancer; he won’t live much longer. It wasn’t in vain that I caused Liam’s death and sabotaged their relationship back then.” “Now, I’m finally close to achieving my goal!” My body trembled. So, all these years, I had been covering for someone else! For a moment, I desperately wanted to tell Scarlett the truth. But the next second, I bitterly withdrew the thought. I had no evidence; Scarlett wouldn’t believe anything I said. Once Alex’s voice completely faded, I pulled out my phone and contacted a private investigator, asking them to look into the matter. Whether Scarlett believed it or not, I had to clear my name before I died. After what felt like an eternity, Scarlett finally rushed in, agitated. The moment she entered, I actually caught a flicker of worry in her eyes. But as soon as I blinked again, only coldness remained, as if everything I had just seen was an illusion. She asked the doctor: “Why did he suddenly faint?” 4 The doctor hesitated. Alex interjected, “Oh, he had low blood sugar. It’s nothing serious.” Scarlett breathed a sigh of relief, believed him without even asking me, and took it as truth. She discharged me from the hospital and brought me home. She had the housekeeper prepare a lavish meal and pushed a bowl of pork rib soup in front of me, scolding me to eat. “Ashton, I haven’t deprived you of food or clothes, have I? Who are you trying to impress with this pathetic act?” “Hurry up and eat more, so people won’t say my family mistreats its live-in son-in-law, that we don’t even feed him.” Scarlett valued her reputation above all else. So, even during the most strained period of our relationship, she never followed my family’s example of depriving me of food and clothes, letting everyone know I was disliked. Instead, for the sake of appearances, she maintained an image of a loving couple in public. Seeing I didn’t speak, Scarlett put down her chopsticks, paused, then spoke. “I was wrong to blame you about the previous incident. I have something for you; just a moment.” She got up and went upstairs to retrieve it. I watched her leave, feeling a strange curiosity, wondering why she was being so kind. Alex pulled a small booklet from his bag and waved it in front of me. “Do you know what this is?” I ignored him. Then, I heard a ripping sound. He tore the booklet into shreds, smiling sinisterly at me. “These are Liam’s love letters to Scarlett.” I froze, and before I could react, I heard Alex loudly, exaggeratedly shout: “Ashton, that’s something Scarlett values more than her life! Stop him!” Scarlett, hearing the commotion, rushed in, only to see her first love’s handwriting torn to pieces, scattered on the floor. Alex, eyes red, slapped himself across the face. “Scarlett, it’s all my fault. I shouldn’t have taken it out in front of Ashton, giving him a chance to destroy it.” Scarlett’s face darkened. She raised her hand and slapped me directly, then slammed a set of luxury car keys onto my body. “I was originally planning to get you a car for getting around. But now, it seems you don’t deserve it!” It was like this again, accusing me without any clear reason. I couldn’t help myself; I wanted to reveal the truth, but just as I uttered the words “It wasn’t me,” The butler, standing to one side, knelt. “Miss, I failed to stop Ashton from tearing up the keepsake. I am also at fault. Please deduct my salary.” Other servants also jumped in, seemingly admitting fault, but in reality, accusing me. The scenes from five years ago were replaying today. When I saw Alex’s triumphant gaze, I finally understood. These people had all been bought by him long ago. Scarlett saw my attempt to argue and flew into a rage. “Ashton, you still dare to talk back? You’re simply incorrigible!” “Butler, throw him into the dark room in solitary confinement. Release him only when the press conference begins.” I was dragged away by bodyguards. She, on the other hand, carefully collected the shredded paper, while still comforting Alex. “Don’t be sad. It’s not your fault. Ashton is simply malicious, not even sparing a deceased person’s belongings.” She still didn’t trust me, as always. But it didn’t matter. I was about to be a dead person myself. I was locked in a pitch-black room, my phone confiscated. Without medication, I passed out from the pain and woke up again, countless times, unsure of how much time had passed. Perhaps it was due to inhaling a lot of smoke earlier while trying to save Scarlett, but I noticed my condition seemed to have worsened. My consciousness slowly blurred. The moment my eyes finally closed, the screen of my phone, locked in a cabinet, lit up. The detective sent a message: “The truth has been uncovered. Evidence will be handed to Scarlett soon. Bro, don’t forget to settle the final payment with me.” Meanwhile, Scarlett, calculating the time, knew it was time to release me. As she was about to enter the house, a delivery driver handed Scarlett a sealed envelope. “Are you Ms. Scarlett Su? Please sign for this.” Scarlett took it, and her expression froze when she saw the name on it. 5 It had “Ashton Kaling” written on it. She raised an eyebrow, signed it, and tossed it aside. The delivery driver hastily added, “Ms. Su, the sender said this is very important.” “It’s imperative that you open it immediately upon receipt.” Scarlett was displeased, but seeing an outsider present, she didn’t curse. Instead, she impatiently tore open the envelope. The delivery driver breathed a sigh of relief, pulled out his phone, and sent a message, reporting the task complete. The moment Scarlett saw the contents, she froze, a flicker of bewilderment in the depths of her eyes: “Why did he send me this stuff?” When I saw Scarlett, I was also somewhat confused. Wasn’t I in solitary confinement? When was I released? I had no memory of it. Before I could dwell on it too long, I heard Scarlett’s murmur, and was instantly surprised. Shouldn’t Scarlett be furious upon learning the truth? Why was she wearing that expression? I walked over, curious. “Scarlett, let me see.” She acted as if she hadn’t heard my question. I called her several more times, but she still pretended not to hear. I sighed, reaching out to take it, but my hand passed through the documents, grabbing nothing. “Scarlett.” Scarlett looked up at the sound. Seeing Alex approach, a smile appeared on her usually serene face. She waved to him, her arm passing directly through my body. I looked down, startled, and only then realized that my body was semi-transparent. The sun shone brightly above, yet I cast no shadow. I smiled bitterly. It turned out I hadn’t been released. I had died. “Scarlett, what’s this?”
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