1

My childhood friend and my sister both fell in love with the new poor student, Clint.

One broke off her engagement to me, saying:

“Arland, a privileged young master like you isn’t someone I can handle.”

The other disregarded my mother’s dying words, claiming:

“Clint is so pitiful. Sharing half of the love I have for you with him isn’t asking too much, is it?”

On my birthday, my childhood friend chose to spend the day with Clint.

On the anniversary of my mom’s death, my sister decided to celebrate with Clint and his mother instead.

It was then that I understood—relationships with close family or friends were shallow in this life. Fighting for what I couldn’t keep was pointless.

While they accompanied Clint to New York to receive a design award,

I burned down the house that held memories of the three of us.

I disappeared from New York, faking my death.

But when news of my death reached New York,

the two women who had long cast me aside went mad with grief and rushed back overnight.

They knelt in front of the charred ruins of the house, crying uncontrollably.

******

That was the last time I brought up my engagement to Rachel.

The room went silent at first.

Then, seeing Rachel’s impatient expression, everyone burst into mocking laughter.

“What era are we living in? Arranged marriages are such outdated nonsense!”

“Is our proud young master Arland feeling insecure for once?”

I ignored the commotion and looked directly at Rachel, who was sitting on the sofa.

Her long, wavy hair cascaded over her shoulders, and faint marks were visible on her neck and collarbone.

It felt like a needle piercing my heart, the pain slow and delayed.

“I was young and foolish back then. That’s the only reason I agreed to something so ridiculous,” Rachel said, her tone indifferent and mocking.

She glanced at me lazily and added, “Arland, we’re adults now. Let’s leave the past behind.”

I stared at her, speechless, just as the door swung open.

Clint walked in wearing a waiter’s uniform, carrying a tray.

When he saw me, he flinched slightly and stammered,

“Bro—no, Mr. Arland.”

He quickly glanced at Rachel before mumbling, “Sorry, am I interrupting?”

He set the tray down and tried to leave, but Rachel suddenly knocked the items off the coffee table.

Glasses shattered, sending shards everywhere.

A piece of glass cut my arm, and blood began to drip, the pain sharp and stinging.

But Rachel didn’t even spare me a glance.

She stormed up to Clint, her face dark with anger.

“Didn’t I tell you not to work anymore, Clint?”

Clint nodded obediently, his eyes reddening as he spoke softly.

“I just didn’t want to keep taking money from you and your sister.

You’ve already given me so much. I can earn my own living expenses…”

Rachel interrupted, “But it hurts me to see you like this. You’re a designer. Your hands are meant for holding a pencil, not doing this kind of work.”

She pulled off his vest and tossed it aside.

“You’re coming home with me now. If I ever catch you working again,

wherever you go, I’ll make sure that place is shut down.”

Then, she turned to glare at me.

“And if anyone dares bully him, don’t blame me for not showing mercy.”

I pressed my bleeding arm, meeting her gaze calmly amidst the chaos.

This club was owned by the Koch family, my family.

Rachel thought Clint had taken this job because I was targeting him.

But the truth was absurd.

Clint, now adored and protected by Rachel and my sister,

was like a delicate and precious flower kept in a greenhouse.

He had access to unlimited funds.

Why would he degrade himself by working?

Even if I explained or brought in the manager to testify,

Rachel wouldn’t believe me.

To her, I was now the wicked supporting character,

the spoiled heir who bullied the kind and gentle protagonist.

Rachel stood protectively in front of Clint.

“Arland, someone like you isn’t worth my time.

As for the engagement, let’s just forget about it.”

Her words silenced the room again.

Clint’s face went pale as he trembled slightly, clutching Rachel’s arm like he was drawing strength from her.

The people around us looked at me with wary expressions.

I suddenly found it funny.

Ever since Clint’s mother intruded on our family and Clint came between Rachel and me, I had thrown tantrums and acted out.

After all, the affection that had once been exclusively mine was now showered unconditionally on Clint and his mother.

As a pampered young master, how could I tolerate that?

But all my efforts to push back only drove everyone closer to Clint.

Now, I was simply tired—completely exhausted.

“Fine,” I said, nodding calmly.

I took a few steps forward, and Rachel instinctively moved to shield Clint.

“Arland, if you want to do something, take it out on me,” she said.

I removed my hand from my injured arm and held it out.

My pale palm was smeared with bright red blood.

Rachel’s lips tightened, and for a moment, her cold, indifferent eyes seemed to waver.

2

At that moment, Clint suddenly stepped up beside her.

“Mr. Arland, don’t make things difficult for her.”

“It’s all my fault. I shouldn’t have shown up. I shouldn’t have disturbed you…”

As he spoke, tears filled his eyes at just the right moment. “I’ll leave now.”

“Clint, I already said, I’ll take care of everything.”

Rachel’s heart ached instantly.

She wiped Clint’s tears while glancing at me.

Any warmth I’d seen in her was gone.

It was replaced only by disgust.

“Arland, can’t you stop being so clingy…”

I interrupted her, “We can call off the engagement, but give me back what’s mine.”

Rachel was stunned. “What thing?”

I reached up and untied the red cord around my neck.

Hanging from it was a jade pendant—

A family heirloom her mother had given me when our engagement was set.

What my mom gave her in return was even more precious.

It had once belonged to the palace.

“The jade pendant is yours. I want my bracelet back.”

Rachel’s face grew cold as her eyes landed on the pendant in my hand.

I had kept it close since I was fifteen.

Everyone knew how much I treasured it.

“You think everyone’s as pathetic as you?”

Rachel snatched the pendant from me. “Who’d carry such trash around all day?”

She gave me one last cold look. “I’ll find your bracelet and give it back. After that, we’re done.”

When I got home, my sister Vivian was waiting for me in the living room.

“Arland, there’s something I need to tell you.”

She handed me a thick stack of documents.

“I’m transferring this office building to Clint so he can collect rent.”

“He’s suffered enough. Now that he’s part of our family, he deserves a break.”

I looked at the documents.

That building was my mother’s inheritance—property she brought from her own family.

Without expression, I picked up the papers and tore them apart.

“Arland!”

“What are you doing?”

Vivian stared at me disapprovingly.

“I already helped you cover up the incident when you pushed Clint down the stairs.”

“After all the grievances Clint has suffered, giving him one building is nothing.”

“Have you forgotten Mom’s last words?”

Vivian fell silent.

On her deathbed, Mom had held Vivian’s hand tightly, refusing to let go until she swore.

Swore that she would protect me, care for me, and never let anyone take what was mine.

And that I would always stand by Vivian, be her support.

“I haven’t forgotten.”

“But Arland, now that Clint is also my little brother…”

“Splitting my love for you and giving half to him isn’t too much, is it?”

“Arland, you’re too willful, too unreasonable.”

Vivian sighed. “Why can’t you be more like Clint?”

I wanted to laugh, but tears fell first.

“Vivian.”

“No one gets to take Mom’s things.”

“If you want to give Clint something, fine. Give him whatever you want from the Koch family.”

“There’s nothing good in the Koch family…”

Vivian’s voice trailed off.

Yes, there was nothing good about the Koch family—

Not the people, not the possessions.

I tossed the torn papers into the trash and went upstairs.

“Mom’s death anniversary is in a few days. Don’t forget.”

“How could I forget?” Vivian gave an awkward smile.

“Get some rest. I’ll work in the study for a bit.”

I didn’t respond or look back.

That night, I didn’t sleep.

I sorted through everything in the house that had memories of the three of us.

I burned the photos.

Smashed and dismantled everything I could.

What could be donated, I packed and sent to the orphanage.

The only thing left was this small house, full of memories.

This was the Koch family’s only villa when Mom married in.

Later, Mom passed away, and my sister and I couldn’t bear to move.

Then Dad moved out to live with Clint’s mom.

Vivian rarely returned after that.

Rachel used to come over to play every day.

But now, she hadn’t come in a long time.

On the balcony, I hugged Mom’s photo.

I cried for a long time before falling asleep in tears.

The day after my birthday was Mom’s death anniversary.

Back then, Mom held on just long enough to see me through my birthday.

I cried my heart out that day.

Rachel had stayed with me all 24 hours, not daring to blink.

She’d been with me for the eight birthdays that followed.

This was the first time she wasn’t here.

But it didn’t matter anymore.

Rachel didn’t come.

But Clint did, haunting me like a shadow.

Her social media was flooded all night.

Nosy people even live-streamed the whole thing for me.

“She said she couldn’t find a reason to celebrate, so tonight we’ll celebrate for your iPad’s birthday.”

“She just wanted an excuse to eat cake.”

A beautiful two-tiered cake, a champagne tower—

Clint, the pampered little prince, surrounded by gifts and luxury cars,

Smiling with soft eyes at the person beside him.

Rachel smiled back tenderly. They looked perfect together.

All the gentleness and care that used to belong to me was now Clint’s.

I closed her social media feed and turned off my phone.

I closed my eyes and made a wish over the candle.

“Mom, please bless me and let everything go smoothly.”

“Mom, please protect me and keep me far away from these awful people.”

3

I waited for a long time on the Day of Mom's Memorial.

Dad sent someone to deliver offerings.

But Vivian never showed up.

I called her, but no one answered the first three times.

The fourth call was picked up.

It was Clint’s mom who spoke: “Oh, Arland, do you need Vivian for something?”

“Today is my mom’s memorial.”

“Oh dear, is it sister’s memorial today? We’re so thoughtless.”

“My little dog just gave birth to puppies, and Vivian and Clint are so obsessed with them that they forgot about it…”

“It’s probably too late to come now. What should we do?”

“Auntie, whose call is that?”

“It’s Arland. He seems upset. What should we do, Vivian?”

“Hello, Arland?” Vivian’s voice came through.

I hung up immediately.

On the gravestone, Mom’s black-and-white photo looked back at me, smiling.

Her smile was so kind, so gentle.

It was a bright April day, yet kneeling there, I felt like I had fallen into a freezing abyss.

I hugged Mom’s gravestone, pressing my lips to it.

“It’s okay, Mom. At least I will never forget you.”

On the way back from the lawyer’s office, I returned to that small house and unexpectedly saw Rachel and the others.

Clint stood between Rachel and Vivian, holding a huge bouquet of flowers, beaming with joy.

Vivian spoke first when she saw me.

“Arland, look at Clint! His design won an international award.”

“I’m just trying to follow in my brother’s footsteps,” Clint said modestly.

Rachel snorted as she held the design draft. “Follow him? Please.”

“He studied under famous teachers but never won a single award.”

“These things are about talent, Clint. Don’t underestimate yourself.”

My eyes were suddenly drawn to the lines on the design.

I stepped forward instinctively and snatched the draft from Rachel’s hands.

Page after page—it was nearly identical to my original drafts.

Clint had stolen my work to win the award!

“You stole my designs! Clint, how can you be so shameless?”

I was trembling with rage and raised my hand to hit him.

But before I could, Rachel grabbed my wrist.

Then, with a strong push, I stumbled backward and fell to the ground, utterly humiliated.

“Arland, you’ve always been so arrogant. I’ve had enough of you.”

“Clint won the award through his talent. If you say he stole your work, prove it. Without proof, you’re just slandering him.”

“Brother, I didn’t steal your designs.”

“You’ve always hated me. How could I ever get close to your computer?”

Clint looked aggrieved, playing the victim perfectly.

I turned sharply toward Vivian.

My computer was always in the study.

The only person who frequently went there was her.

Vivian avoided my gaze, her guilt written all over her face.

What more was there to understand?

“Arland, look at yourself,” Rachel said, walking over in her high heels. She looked down at me coldly and tossed a string of fiery red bracelets onto the floor beside me.

“I don’t know why I ever liked you.”

I glared back with sarcasm, about to retort, when I noticed Clint’s wristwatch.

When I got a closer look, my entire body shook with anger.

It was a custom-made diamond watch—Mom’s watch, which she left to me.

I cherished it so much that I rarely wore it.

But now, the watch I treasured was on Clint’s wrist.

“Vivian, how dare you give Mom’s watch to him!”

I pointed at Clint, my eyes burning with fury.

Vivian’s lips trembled as if uneasy. “Arland…”

Clint lowered his head and started unbuckling the watch.

“I’m sorry, brother. I didn’t know this was Auntie’s keepsake. I’ll return it to you right now.”

Tears fell down his face as he spoke, looking like a pitiful victim.

Vivian immediately softened. “Clint, don’t take it off. I gave it to you.”

Then she turned to me. “It’s just a watch, Arland. If Clint likes it, he can have it.”

“I’ll buy you a better one.”

Pain tore through me like a thousand cuts. My voice trembled. “This is Mom’s watch, Vivian. You have no right to give it away.”

“And even if I smashed it or threw it out, I’d never let the illegitimate son take it!”

Vivian’s face flushed with embarrassment and anger. “Arland! Stop being so cruel to Clint.”