My fiancé fell for the scholarship student I sponsored. To prove his dedication, he defied his family and even showed up at our house to publicly break off the engagement. My dad was furious; my mom nearly fainted. Overnight, I became the laughingstock of our social circle. No one knew that we held a full family war council that very night. Every step was analyzed, every risk assessed. My Dad took a sip of tea: "Absence makes the heart grow fonder, and distance dulls the sting. Spend a few years abroad. Retreat is the best offensive." My Mom's expression was calm: "Change the narrative. She plays the fragile, pure flower. You become the unattainable, perfect 'moonlight.'" I smiled: "Then I should start with a good case of depression." 1 The day I returned home, my friends threw me a welcome-back party. Three rounds of drinks in, the private room was filled with laughter. The door opened. In the next moment, the warm atmosphere solidified into ice. The newcomers were none other than my ex-fiancé, Caleb Preston, and his girlfriend, Harper Stone. I turned my head and met a pair of cold, familiar eyes. Caleb’s gaze lingered on me for a beat too long, causing Harper’s face behind him to visibly sour. Everyone exchanged uneasy glances, cautiously watching my reaction. After a brief pause, I naturally raised a hand and invited them to join us. "Look who it is. Come on in, sit down." It was as if the drama from three years ago had never happened. Caleb's expression flickered with complexity, seeming about to speak, but he only gave a curt, neutral acknowledgment. Harper sat beside him, struggling to maintain a pleasant smile that couldn't hide her stiffness. Everyone present knew the story: I pulled her out of poverty and paid for her education; she repaid me by stealing my fiancé. What kind of snake would stoop that low? No one respected a traitor. My family’s company, Chen Group, had grown exponentially over the years, quietly overshadowing Caleb’s family business, Preston Corp. The more astute guests, whether out of loyalty to me or simple business sense, deliberately isolated Harper. She was treated like a ghost during the constant toasts and conversations. She looked to Caleb for help, but he was unusually silent, allowing the subtle cold shoulder to continue. A lingering, assessing gaze kept falling on me. Even in the dim light, you couldn't miss the pale, tight grip Harper had on her composure. Having enjoyed the show enough, I slowly raised my glass to rescue her. "You two are late. Three shots as a penalty. No objections? "Don't try to weasel out of it. It’s tradition." At my words, everyone's expressions changed quickly, then they enthusiastically chimed in. "That's right! Jane is back today, don't be a buzzkill!" Caleb said nothing, downing the three shots neatly. He inverted the glass, not a drop spilled. His eyes met mine, an unspoken apology for the past three years. I gave a slight smile and looked at Harper. She picked up her glass and forced a grimace, but wouldn't meet my gaze. I moved to clink glasses with her, but she flinched violently, as if avoiding the plague. The glass slipped, shattering on the floor. My friends couldn't hold back. "Seriously, Caleb, what’s up with your girlfriend? Jane is being the bigger person, and she's giving us attitude? Is she trying to ruin the party?" Caleb glanced at her, frowning in displeasure, but still defended her. "Harper didn't mean it. That's enough." Harper lowered her head and apologized softly, her eyes welling up as if she were the one suffering. One of my friends who had no business ties to the Prestons was about to explode. "Oh, now you've done it, I'm about to—" I stopped him, my smile warm. "We’re all friends here. It’s no big deal. The past is the past; let's not bring it up again." I looked at Caleb and Harper, tilted my head back, and finished my drink, my eyes conveying reassurance. Caleb’s face softened, and a hint of a smile appeared in his eyes. Everyone took the hint: the feud was over. The atmosphere quickly warmed up again. 2 Later, I stepped onto the balcony to clear my head. Caleb's slightly hoarse voice came from behind me. "How have the past three years been?" The wind gently rustled my hair, creating a moment of dramatic reunion. I turned, not missing the flicker of surprise and complexity in Caleb’s eyes. "After all that alcohol, how's your stomach holding up?" I didn't answer his question, prioritizing his health first. Caleb unconsciously covered his stomach, his expression momentarily distant. He'd always had stomach issues and was an incredibly picky eater. It took me a year to figure out his tastes and create a special, custom diet plan for him. Every day, I watched him eat, always carrying his medicine and healthy snacks. Yet, I was ultimately defeated by the girl who would take him to eat street food. Caleb quickly masked his surprise, looking at me with a complicated expression. "You don't hate me?" I shook my head. "It's all water under the bridge. We didn't have an unresolvable conflict. Besides, how does the saying go? No deal is still a good friendship." Caleb chuckled, the tension between us dissolving. He teased, "You've grown quite magnanimous." I smiled back. "We just weren't meant to be a couple. That doesn't mean we can't be friends, right?" In reality, after Caleb and I broke off the engagement three years ago, the relationship between our families became precarious. For the past three years, they've been commercial rivals, constantly engaged in open competition. Now, everyone in the circle knows my parents dote on me and is impressed by Chen Group’s momentum. Many power brokers warned their children: Get on Jane’s good side, or at least don't cross her. The moment I returned, I was flooded with invitations from old and new acquaintances. One more person, Caleb, didn't make much difference. Besides, our two families didn't need to be so hostile. I believed Caleb's presence today was likely his family's attempt to ease tensions. After all, Preston Corp. was attracting too much attention and showing signs of strain; they didn't need a powerful rival like us. Hearing the meaning in my words, Caleb's brow smoothed out. He walked up to me, and we leaned against the railing, facing opposite directions. Our balanced, easy dynamic felt comfortable. In my peripheral vision, a flash of a white skirt vanished around the corner. I curled my lips. The coming months were going to be very interesting. 3 After that conversation, Caleb started contacting me frequently. He asked for my old custom diet plan, and I sent it all to him. I even meticulously reminded him of details, telling him to take care of his health. Caleb pretended to be annoyed by the hassle, but the warmth in his voice was undeniable. Instead of rushing back to the company, I used my precious free time to revisit old places. My social media was suddenly filled with pictures of old friends, old spots, and old memories. Caleb and I had known each other since we were teenagers, so how many of those memories involved him? Countless. I suspected he was glued to my posts, always being the first to like and comment. [The Dean is bald now, huh?] [Is that the same tabby we used to feed? Still not graduated?] [I remember we tied a ribbon to that old tree and made wishes. You wouldn't let me read yours.] ... I occasionally replied to a few neutral comments, but anything too boundary-crossing was met with a simple smile emoji. A certain actor’s new girlfriend streamed a critique of classic old songs. One of my favorites, a ballad I truly loved, she called "Creepy." That night, I posted the song on my social media. Minutes later, Caleb called me, his voice barely hiding his fury. Caleb wasn't a fan, but he went to every concert this singer held. That showed how much he loved the song. I quietly listened to him vent, occasionally agreeing and soothing him. We talked for over an hour. Then I heard Harper's voice on his end. "Caleb, aren't you done working yet?" Caleb paused but didn't hang up, his tone irritated. "What are you doing here?" Harper’s voice rose, edged with accusation. "You're on the phone with her again, aren't you?" Hearing this, I hung up. That was a domestic dispute, and it wouldn’t do for an outsider to meddle. I softly hummed a tune, staring at the clock on the wall. My fingers tapped rhythmically on the desk. Three minutes later, Caleb called back. His voice held a hint of fatigue. "I'm sorry, Jane. You got dragged into that." I spoke softly. "It's fine. I understand Harper. She's sensitive. You just need to spend more time with her and give her enough security." I paused and added, "Our relationship is subtle, after all. It’s normal that she doesn’t like me. We should probably keep our distance." Caleb was silent for a few seconds. I still caught the subtle impatience in his voice. "Haven't I given her enough security? She's the one who's never satisfied." After hanging up, I raised an eyebrow. I was abroad these past years, but I was fully aware of the situation back home. After breaking the engagement, Caleb spent days kneeling, refusing to eat or drink, forcing his family to accept Harper. Harper stayed by the Preston mansion gate, crying her eyes out just to see Caleb. The rebellious Young Master and the tenacious, pure flower—a love story in real life. The couple had successfully overcome every obstacle. It became a favorite topic of gossip. People would pretend to dab their eyes. "Such a moving romance!" "Better check if your fiancé has a true love outside. Hurry up and make way for them." But the drama ends, and real life begins. The families' cooperation fell apart. The Prestons couldn't blame their son, so someone had to bear their anger. They immediately judged Harper, criticizing her every move. Wanna marry into high society? Learn manners and etiquette, stay home, and raise children. Work? Absolutely not. Are you going to embarrass the Preston name by earning a few bucks? Attend a banquet? Dream on. Let people mock us for letting a backstabbing homewrecker marry in? Harper, freshly graduated, hadn't had a chance to prove herself worthy of Caleb through her career. She was forced to abandon her professional path for love. Caleb promised eternal love, so she became his devoted woman. Who needed a future when you could be Mrs. Preston? So, she had to cling tightly to Caleb. Any woman near him would set her off. Once or twice, it’s charming. Too many times, it's annoying. Love driven purely by hormones is no match for the unchangeable heart. I sighed and looked at my other sponsored student, Lin, who was now my assistant. "Can you understand her actions?" Lin's expression was cold, a hint of disgust flashing in her eyes. "I will never understand it. To have a promising future in sight and then stake everything on a man's vague affection." I mused, "Have Harper and her family not seen each other in a long time?" Lin nodded. "I'll handle it." 4 After that phone call, my renewed relationship with Caleb seemed to revert to its original state. I rarely replied to his calls or messages. I deliberately avoided the gatherings he organized. This sudden distance made Caleb panic. He approached Lin, trying to arrange a meeting. Lin sighed. "Didn't you know? Someone is posting garbage about Jane online—all kinds of nasty rumors. Her depression flared up again. My Madam forced her into a private clinic." Caleb froze. His dry voice sounded like it was squeezed from his throat. "Depression? What depression?" Lin realized her slip-up, a look of distress crossing her face. "I'm sorry, I can't say." Caleb could only plead with Lin to take him to the Chen residence. He hadn't been to my house since the engagement was broken three years ago, and my parents wouldn't let him near the door. As Lin drove him, she watched him in the rearview mirror. He was searching for news online, his brow furrowing tighter and tighter, his face growing rigid. A burner account on social media had leaked my information, accusing me of being the "other woman" who interfered with Caleb and Harper. They claimed I was boundary-crossing and clinging to Caleb after returning home. They even posted blurry photos of Caleb and me talking on the balcony at the welcome-back party, framed to look intimate. The online comments erupted: homewrecker, desperate socialite, and other vile insults were everywhere. Many friends defended me, but everyone knew whose hand was behind the account. They asked if I wanted to clarify or counterattack. I just smiled mournfully. "Forget it. Justice is in people's hearts. I don't want to pursue it." The contrast was stark: I was the woman whose fiancé was stolen, who was then maliciously attacked online, yet I refused to retaliate. Even Mother Teresa would have been jealous. Though my friends joked, I held the moral high ground. The higher the flames of public opinion burned, the better it was for me and the Chen Group. I was afraid the fire wouldn't be hot enough, so I secretly stoked the flames. Now, it was time for the next step. 5 When Caleb arrived at my house, my mother looked disgusted and tried to kick him out. "My daughter is unlucky every time she sees you. Get out!" He apologized profusely, even tearing up, pleading just to see me. "Aunt Jiang, is Jane sick with depression because of me? Please, let me see her. I won't be able to rest." My mother's eyes flashed with coldness, but her expression was one of sad resignation. "Fine. Children are a debt you pay. Go see her." After giving him the clinic address, Caleb rushed out. My mother exchanged a look with Lin. Lin gave a barely perceptible nod and followed him out. On the way, Lin vividly described the severity of my depression overseas. She painted me as a soulless puppet who had attempted suicide multiple times, only to be saved just in time. Caleb turned his head to look out the window. The reflection showed his reddened eyes. When he found me, I was sitting on the bed in a blue-and-white gown, staring blankly at a bird outside the window. The sunlight cast a fragile beauty on my face. Caleb's hands, resting by his sides, tightened subtly. He tentatively spoke: "Jane?" I instantly stiffened, looking surprised and panicked. "Why are you here?" Caleb looked helpless. "Why didn't you tell me you were sick?" I laughed dismissively. "It’s nothing major. My mom just exaggerates." Caleb lowered his gaze, seeming unable to look at me. "Is your depression because of me—" I interrupted him. "It's boring here. My phone was confiscated, and Mom even sent Lin to watch me. Why don't you take me out?" I rarely showed such a pleading, spoiled attitude. Caleb froze, his throat bobbing. I waved my hand in front of his eyes, frowning in annoyance. "Well? Can you, or not?" He cleared his throat, a blush spreading across his clean-cut face. The mature coldness in his eyes softened, making him look like the awkward young man he once was. "Jane, you need to rest." I turned my head away, refusing to speak. Caleb gave a soft laugh. He found an excuse to distract Lin, and I took the opportunity to slip out.
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