His First Love Haunted Our Marriage

Why on earth had I quit? Soon a rumor spread: the cleaner assigned to the executive office had overheard a huge argument between Jason and me.

I told Jason, "Yes, I love you, and I can't keep cleaning up your mess with all your women."

“Just because I’m poorer than you, beneath you, and not beautiful, you think I don’t have a heart? You’re wrong, Jason Parker!”

“There is no shame in loving you. At least in spirit, we are equals.

Goodbye!!"

Then I slammed the door and came face-to-face with the cleaner, close enough for her to see the tears I was holding back.

So everyone at headquarters believed I had quit in anger over my unrequited love for Jason.

What they did not know was that the cleaner had simply overheard a script I had written in advance.

There was supposed to be one more line from Jason—he should have, after my passionate performance, looked ashamed and said, "I didn't know you loved me—"

Then I would say, "Now you know. That's enough for me."

Then I was supposed to walk away with my head held high, completing my complicated Cinderella persona: lowly, yet proud.

But Jason said, “Just lowly would suit you better.”

So he cut his own line.

During my whole performance he acted like an audience member, arms crossed, frowning, finding fault with my acting.

Afterward, I complained. “If everyone is supposed to believe I’m your true love, I can’t do all the acting myself. You have to join in. At the very least, learn to look at me with love in your eyes.”

But he waved the contract. “I pay you three hundred thousand a month to work for me, not to tell me what to do.”

Fine. He who pays calls the shots.

Ignoring Jason's lack of cooperation, my first-phase hype campaign was a smashing success.

In everyone's minds I became the pitiful, pathetic Cinderella who loved Jason to no end.

People judged me all sorts of ways.

Some sneered, “He’s way out of her league. She should take a good look in the mirror before setting her sights on the boss.”

Others claimed they had seen it coming. “Lily Carter always had an agenda. Look at how she groveled before the boss and hated his girlfriends. She saw every one of them as competition.”

No matter the tone, everyone reached the same conclusion: "Lily Carter's sins caught up with her; she finally got her just deserts."

Honestly, even knowing I was Jason's toady and that made me unpopular, I didn't expect it to be this bad.

But WHO CARES? I grinned wickedly inside. Want to watch me get my punishment?

Then I’d dazzle every last one of them!

A few days later, a gossip story began trending on Weibo: “Jason Parker Spotted in Old Neighborhood Late at Night. A New Romance?”

Because the 'new flame' was me, his former secretary.

Yes, I manufactured that headline.

At my direction, Jason reluctantly came to my shabby neighborhood. Following the classic romance-novel playbook, he leaned against his gleaming Rolls-Royce outside my building and smoked for an hour.

He had the air of a lonely lover waiting for his beloved.

It was all an act, but watching Jason wait outside just to see me, with daylight fading into darkness, made me laugh out loud from my hiding place on the balcony.

Jason Parker, now it was your turn!

I had meant to keep him waiting a little longer, but the moment an hour was up, his WeChat message arrived: “Get down here!”

The angrier he was, the terser he spoke. That hour had clearly tested his patience.

I hurried downstairs. Before I could spit out my prepared lines, he pulled me into his arms.

That wasn't in the script.

I froze.

His embrace was different from his public persona—warm, unbelievably so.

I thought I could hear his heartbeat.

Then he said, "Go upstairs."

Upstairs?

That was not in the script either. He was supposed to take me back to his place, where he would get the bed and I would sleep on the carpet. Now he wanted to come up to mine?

While I was stunned, he released me and led me up.

When I came to, we were standing in my living room.

Max showed no shyness around Jason at all. He sniffed his feet and even gave him a lick, leaving me speechless.

Jason gave a derisive laugh. “Like owner, like cat.”

I hastily shooed Max away. Jason walked straight to my bedroom.

"It's small, but it'll do. I'll stay here tonight."

Then he sat down on my bed like he owned the place.

I…reminded him, "Sleeping together isn't in the contract—"

He glanced at me. "You sleep on the couch."

I argued, "I think it's better if we go to your house. My place is cramped—I'd be doing you a disservice."

He seemed perfectly untroubled. “Putting up with it for your sake will make me look more in love. Add that to your press release: Jason Parker Takes Humble Lodgings for Love.”

I had to admire his talent. I rewrote the release overnight; that angle made him look even more in love.

Overnight, my name—Lily Carter—was everywhere.

I even anonymously posted in a famous gossip forum, revealing the truth of my years of endurance beside Jason.

I claimed I’d worshipped Jason in college and, after graduating, I endured hardships and obstacles to become his personal secretary.

I said I watched him breeze through countless flings while I suffered in silence, finally leaving in despair.

Then came the twist: my departure supposedly made Jason realize I was his true love. He pursued me, and at last this Cinderella got her happy ending.

I knew the key to a good lie was a mix of truth and fiction. If anyone checked, they could find that apart from the romantic parts, the rest was true.

For the romance, I had cleverly borrowed a crowd-pleasing old story: Wang Baochuan enduring eighteen years in a cold cave dwelling before her beloved returned as a king. That familiar fantasy made our love story even easier to believe.

Suddenly I was almost a second Lin Fengjiao—every man's idea of an ideal wife.

Of course, my self-effacing, lovesick persona infuriated feminists, who denounced me as a relic of feudal thinking and the model of a woman who lived only for her husband.

Honestly, this was only a job! If they knew that, would they forgive me?

Anyway, the more controversy, the better—proof my story was convincing.

I proudly showed Jason the figures I had been tracking. “Well? That’s three hundred thousand well spent, isn’t it?”

Jason was speechless. "This is the first time I've seen someone get flamed and be proud of it."

Please. Pay me three million a month and they could call me Daji reincarnated, the ultimate temptress, for all I cared.

Jason told me that Gwen Montgomery would be returning to the country soon.

Every time Gwen came back, Jason would pick her up.

Despite his cool façade, it turned out he was a simp too. His schedule was packed, yet he always found time to collect his ex—even one who already had a new boyfriend.

There's a saying: a simp simps until he has nothing left.

I told him firmly, "Don't pick her up this time. Come on vacation with me."

So when Gwen and her new boyfriend landed in our city, Jason and I were already in the Maldives.

Company-paid vacations are bliss.

Thanks to Jason, I finally got to stay at the luxurious Huvafen Fushi resort and enjoy a private stretch of pristine white sand.

Palm shadows, turquoise sea, like paradise.

By day, we went diving, fishing, and sailing. At night, we feasted beside the dreamlike pool, its underwater lights twinkling in answer to the stars above.

It made me realize: money is freaking amazing.

I swore I'd never been this happy in my life.

Of course, I hadn’t forgotten the real purpose of this trip—I’d brought a paparazzo with me, guaranteed to capture every smiling, cozy moment Jason Parker and I shared.

Once we got home, I would post the pictures online and watch those former colleagues who had looked down on me turn green with envy.

But the main target, of course, was Gwen Montgomery, his idealized first love. I wanted her wild with jealousy.

Overall the trip was a smashing success—if you ignore one little accident.

The accident being that Jason and I kissed.

Honestly, it wasn’t entirely my fault. The setting was impossibly beautiful.

Imagine sitting barefoot beside a man on a glass floor, drinks in hand. Beneath your feet, little fish dart through the blue sea. Above you stretches an endless sky, with the Milky Way flowing through it.

And the man beside you is drop‑dead gorgeous.

Tell me which woman could resist kissing a beauty in the middle of that kind of romantic setup?

I certainly couldn’t.

At first I only planned a quick kiss—a little indulgence—and I even had my excuse ready. I’d brought a paparazzo to stage a romance, after all.

“What kind of lovers don’t kiss?” That was going to be my excuse.

But the moment my lips touched his, before I could pull away, Jason had looped an arm around my neck and deepened the kiss.

All those years of practice had clearly paid off. Under his expert kisses, I soon lost track of time and place.

With the last scrap of sense I had left, I managed to remind him, “The p-paparazzo…”

He looked at me like I’d said something stupid.

Yep. I’d acted impulsively.

…And Jason frowned that gorgeous frown. “Is this your first time?”

That changed the experience for both of us.

For me, it was not what I had imagined. It was more uncomfortable than I had expected.

He had to be careful, treating me with the utmost tenderness.

Later, Jason silenced me with a kiss. After that, I fell asleep.

When I woke again, it was broad daylight.

Jason was curled up—quietly sleeping—in my arms.

In my sleep, I must have mistaken him for Max and wrapped my arms around him.

I opened my eyes to find Jason’s head resting on my—chest.

The whole scene was so obscene I instinctively let out a little “ah!” and kicked him away.

Still half-asleep, he opened his eyes to find me clutching the covers over my bare chest, looking ridiculous.

He looked at me with a hint of disdain. “Lily Carter, trying to play innocent now? A little late, isn’t it?”

Fair enough. I realized how absurd I looked and tried to act cool, loosening my grip on the duvet.

I’d underestimated how slippery the sheets in a luxury hotel are. As soon as I let go, the comforter slid right off me and disappeared under the bed.

Once again, there was nothing between Jason and me.

We stared at each other, surprised and a little embarrassed.

To prove I was a woman of the world, I spoke first. “Well, want to go again?”

Jason was done humoring me. He rose gracefully and dressed without a trace of embarrassment while I watched.

“I’ll transfer the money to you in a bit,” he said, then walked out with the same effortless composure.

Money?

What money?

It hit me what he meant and I sprang from the bed furious—only to find Jason already gone.

How humiliating! I was not going to take that.

I opened my phone ready to beat him to it and transfer payment for his services. While I was wondering what a fair amount looked like, a message popped up—someone transferred money to me.

I checked and gaped at the string of zeros after a 1.

My anger melted into peace instantly.

Being insulted with money felt…kind of great.

I hoped Jason would insult me like that more often.

Ten times and I could retire.

So for the next several days I tried to seduce him on the regular.

I even downloaded a selection of classic novels to study.

No matter how I posed or sauntered, Jason treated me like air.

On the day before we were due to fly home, after one more shower, wearing Jason’s white shirt with dripping hair and bare legs, I walked back and forth in front of him six or seven times.

Finally he spoke: “Don’t bother. I won’t sleep with you again.”

Excuse me?

“Sleeping with you once is too expensive. I’m afraid I’ll go bankrupt,” he said.

“Actually, if you insist, I could give a discount…” I thought about blurting that out but swallowed it to avoid sounding cheap.

Regardless, the trip hadn’t been in vain.

By the time we flew back, the public had already bought into my image as Jason Parker’s one true love.

Riding that wave, I asked Jason to take me home to meet his parents.

He looked at me like I’d lost my mind. “You’re asking for humiliation. My parents would never accept you.”

I gave him a puzzled look. “I don’t expect your parents to accept me. I don’t really want to marry you. I just want Gwen Montgomery to see that you’re serious about me, that you treat me differently from all those other women. That’s enough.”

Maybe because I talked back, Jason looked slightly annoyed. “Fine. If you don’t mind being treated coldly, I don’t care.”

Ha. They seriously underestimated the working class. Being verbally attacked a little? Big deal. They weren’t going to slap me.

I braced to be roasted, but Jason’s mother turned out to be downright gracious.

She nodded politely when we first met and then practically ignored me, speaking only to Jason the whole time.

I admired her composure. A true society lady doesn’t need to insult—she kills with silence.

Unfortunately for her, she was not dealing with a prospective daughter-in-law. She was dealing with an office drone, through and through.

What do we office drones fear most? Our boss’s attention.

What makes us happiest? Our boss ignoring us.

How was I supposed to slack off if the boss kept noticing me?

I gave my full attention to the Longjing tea the butler brought me. This was what Mrs. Parker herself drank, reportedly grown in front of Hu Gong Temple at the foot of Lion Peak. The genuine article, if ever there was one. I might never get another chance to taste it.

Maybe my calm impressed Mrs. Parker, because as we were leaving she surprised me by asking me to join her at a ladies’ gathering with her friends.

“They’re old family friends. Since you’re Jason’s girlfriend, you should meet them.”

She said it as though it were nothing. I was stunned.

Did this mean she’d accepted me as a future daughter‑in‑law?

On what grounds?

I could not understand it, but Jason seemed perfectly calm. “If Mom wants you to go, then go.”

“You’re coming too,” Mrs. Parker told him firmly. “Gwen will be there with her mother. You haven’t seen each other since she got back, have you?”

So my first face‑off with my “rival,” Gwen, was suddenly scheduled.

I had planned to use the occasion to squeeze a shopping spree out of Jason and put some new outfits on his card. But Mrs. Parker moved faster: the very next day, a whole styling team arrived for me.

It was the very team that styled the hottest star, Bella Stone.

Looking at that crew, I panicked—if they were dressing me, what about Bella?

No time to think. They wrapped me up from head to toe, transformed me, and before I knew it I didn’t even recognize myself.

Soon I was following Jason into the city’s most exclusive social circle while Mrs. Parker introduced me to a group of ladies. I could not remember their names, but their husbands’ names were all very familiar.

All the ladies fawned over me, praising Jason’s taste and calling me lucky to stand behind Mrs. Parker.

Society ladies really knew how to talk. They seemed to be praising me, but the compliments all came back to the Parkers. For someone as insignificant as me, standing beside Mrs. Parker was already an extraordinary stroke of luck.

Mrs. Parker was cool as ever, until Gwen and her mother entered.

Gwen greeted Mrs. Parker politely, then turned and smiled at me. “So this is Jason’s new girlfriend?”

I had pictured our showdown a thousand times, but facing Gwen in person left me stunned.

She had poise like no one else.

I’d always assumed she was just classically attractive, but up close she was otherworldly—ethereal. Seeing Gwen in real life, the only words that fit were “transcendent” and “untouchable.”

Even after the styling team worked their magic on me, standing beside her I was a reed against her towering jade tree—delicate and inferior.

If I were truly Jason’s girlfriend and saw him with a goddess of an ex, I’d probably feel like dust.

Lucky for me, I was only his stand‑in girlfriend—so instead of shrinking, I brimmed with resolve.

My mission was simple: make Gwen jealous.

I smiled confidently at her. “I’m not new. I’m the current girlfriend.”

Then I turned to Jason and gave him a playful wink. “And the only one from now on.”

Gwen looked surprised—she hadn’t expected me to make a show of affection in front of her. Her slip of calling me “new girlfriend” had already betrayed that she cared.

All the more reason to make her care a little more.

Seeing a former sycophant become someone else’s only love had to sting.

It was pathetic, this need to compete with other women. She already had a fiance; in theory, her ex’s love life was none of her business. Yet she could not bear another woman making him happy. Women like Gwen could not stand a world that did not revolve around them.

They measured their worth by remaining the one unforgettable woman in the heart of every man they had dated or flirted with, even if that cost the other girls their happiness.

And they don’t even feel guilty—after all, in their eyes, those lesser girls are meant to be mere background to women born to be stars.

Even though the truth of the world is naturally cruel, thinking it through still makes my blood boil!

As one of the drab girls, I couldn’t help but want to rattle her a little, just to see her eat crow.

And obviously I wasn’t the only one who wanted that—because right after I said those words, Mrs. Parker suddenly took my hand with an affectionate squeeze.

She looked at me with what could only be called a doting gaze. “Good girl. Jason used to be wild; I’m sure he caused you a lot of trouble. Don’t worry—going forward, I’ll handle everything. If he makes you sad again, tell me. I’ll break his legs myself.”

What?

Then she turned to Mrs. Montgomery and Gwen. “Oh, you wouldn’t know—back when Lily first became Jason’s secretary, I took a liking to her. I thought at the time, if only she could be my daughter-in-law. I didn’t expect Jason to pull it together and actually bring her home. Of course I have to keep an eye on things.”

I watched Gwen go pale and suddenly understood why Mrs. Parker's sudden warmth was aimed at me.

So she, too, wanted to get back at Gwen on behalf of her besotted son.

With the matriarch on my side, I stopped holding back. For the rest of the banquet I fully leaned into being spoiled and arrogant.

For example, when we sat down, Jason was about to take his seat and I cleared my throat—he hurriedly pulled my chair out for me.

For another, at dinner I saw he’d barely touched his abalone, so I just reached over and ate it.

That abalone had been flown in from Japan—top quality—almost twenty grand a piece. To take one bite and toss it? A waste beyond belief.

My overacting might have stirred something in Gwen, but it won Mrs. Parker’s approval.

The next day she called me to the Parker house and gave me a pearl necklace.

It did not look particularly valuable to me, but I happily showed it off to Jason. “Mrs. Parker is too generous. I only did her a small favor, and she gave me this.”

Jason looked at me, puzzled. “You think that’s her payment to you?”

I asked back, “Isn’t it?”

His face suddenly went dark. “If you say it is, then fine.”

He looked like he was mad and stalked off, leaving me alone in his enormous living room, slamming the door hard behind him.

Mad for no reason—what a lunatic.

I didn’t bother with him. I admired my low-key, tasteful pearl strand under the light and mentally planned my next move—how to squeeze another reward out of Mrs. Parker.

One job, two payments—sweet!

Going to that gathering with Mrs. Parker was taken as a sign that the Parkers had accepted me. I became a hot topic again, hailed as a modern-day siren and a master of marrying up.

Some lifestyle accounts even started running pieces on how to attract a truly high-quality rich man like I did.

Then Gwen called Jason to invite him to the opening of her exhibition.

Usually for Gwen’s openings, she’d just send Jason an invite.

I knew Gwen had truly taken the bait.

I had to be ready.

This time, unlike the full-glam look I wore with Mrs. Parker, I kept my makeup light and wore something casual.

When Jason came to pick me up, he froze for a second. “You sure you want to meet Gwen like this?”

I was pleased with myself. “I’ve thought it through. I can’t compete with Miss Montgomery in looks or poise. Dressing up would only make me look worse by comparison. Better to keep it simple and fresh. My role is true love, after all. Everyone else admires beautiful faces, but you alone love the noble soul beneath my ordinary exterior.”

Jason smiled.

He normally keeps himself so stern; when he smiled it was like spring rain, and it made my heart flutter—then I snapped myself back. Wake up; he’s your boss.

Rule one of being a work drone: never fall for your boss.

It could jeopardize your paycheck.

With that thought, I put my budding feelings on ice. In my most professional tone, I reminded Jason to pay attention and take good care of me in front of Gwen.

“If we can just make Miss Montgomery jealous one more time, we can close the net. Everything hinges on this. Do your best.”

Jason ignored my pep talk, turning his head out the window.

I closed my eyes to rest up for the showdown.

I fell asleep for the trip. When I woke I was slumped against Jason’s shoulder, and he had his eyes closed too, as if asleep.

Knowing he’s fastidious, I quickly sat up and carefully smoothed the spot where I’d been leaning so he wouldn’t be annoyed when he woke.

As I bent forward, Jason opened his eyes.

My pose must have looked like I was about to steal a kiss.

I sprang back. “I wasn’t trying to kiss you!”

There was a laugh in his eyes. “Do you know the phrase ‘the more you try to hide, the more you reveal’?”

Huh?

Before I could respond, he got out of the car.

I had to open the door and chase after him.

He strode ahead with long legs; I hurried to catch up and shoved my coat into his hands. “Holding your girlfriend’s coat is a basic requirement.”

This time he didn’t argue. But once we were inside the gallery I realized his compliance had been a trap.

It was freezing in the exhibition space; I was wearing a sleeveless dress and sneezed several times.

I kept signaling for him to drape the coat over me, but he ignored me—until we found Gwen and her fiancé.

I sneezed again and he immediately and tenderly put the coat on me. “It’s cold in here. Don’t catch a chill.”

As Gwen’s perfect smile faltered, I could only think what a heartless boss Jason was. If I caught a cold, I was definitely claiming it as a workplace injury.

I soon realized I’d underestimated Jason.

He was far better at acting than I was.

During the entire opening, in front of Gwen and her fiancé he was every inch the considerate boyfriend—attentive, gentle.

Little things, like opening a bottle cap, were trivial; he even stooped to retie my loose shoelace.

When he bent down, my entire back stiffened. Terrifying.

This is Jason Parker—a man I’d always thought of as utterly imperious.

When I first became his secretary, my predecessor left me hundreds of instructions: he liked the room at 77 degrees Fahrenheit, the humidity at 56 percent, and his drinking water always iced. I could hardly believe it. It was not as though he were a helpless baby.

But my predecessor had been serious: as Jason’s secretary, it was my job to make him comfortable in every little way.

“Mr. Parker pays you to do this.”

Everyone around him exists to cater to his comfort. He’s a rich man used to having the world orbit him; besides Gwen, he basically gets anything he wants.

And yet this man was tying my shoelace for Gwen.

For the first time I felt actual jealousy toward Gwen.

Gwen didn’t know anything and looked at me with a complicated expression. She was probably seething green with envy too.

What a mess.

I reminded myself: don’t fall into female rivalry—making money comes first.

Keep going, Lily Carter!

One unexpected gain from the trip: I discovered Gwen’s fiancé, Sam Reed, was surprisingly interesting.

I realized that at lunch when we both reached for the same plate of Alaskan king crab at the buffet.

At gatherings like this, people came to socialize, not eat. Substantial dishes that got in the way of mingling usually went untouched.

We both froze, staring at each other.

I had felt free to go and eat because Gwen clearly wanted to catch up with Jason. After our display of affection, a little time alone would let him show her some concern and keep her interested.

If Gwen thought she had no chance at all and gave up completely, our whole public display would have backfired.

So when Gwen moved closer to Jason, I took the excuse to slip away. I even told Jason to do his best.

Yet the man in front of me had no idea I was trying to pair his fiancee off with someone else. He was happily digging into the food and even joked that our shared working-class roots had brought us together amid all these elegantly dressed people.

And I realized he was hilarious.

He’s from the Northeast—humor felt built into his bones. Anything he said made people laugh. He was the perfect contrast to Jason’s stiffness.

I understood immediately why Gwen would cross class lines for a poor guy like him. Being with Sam had to be much more fun than being with Jason.

I had not even been laughing at his jokes for fifteen minutes when a voice interrupted. “What are you two talking about? You look like you’re having fun.”

I turned and found Jason and Gwen standing by our table. Gwen was the one who’d spoken.

I looked at Jason, puzzled. Why had their catch-up been so short?

He stared at me moodily, like a pet owner who’d finally found his runaway dog. Bizarre.

I answered politely to Gwen, “Just chatting. Mr. Reed is hilarious.”

It was an ordinary comment, but both Gwen and Jason’s expressions shifted.

Gwen looked awkward. Jason looked like a cat with its tail stepped on. He grabbed my hand hard. “We should go.”

Before Gwen could react, he practically dragged me out of the dining room.

His grip hurt until we were finally out and I could free my hand.

Jason looked furious. “I don’t pay you to flirt with other people.”

Then he walked off and left me standing there.

Huh?

I was certain Jason was furious with jealousy over Sam. That's why he had lost his filter.

Out of pity, I wasn't going to make a scene.

I hurried after him and looped my arm through his, trying to give him a graceful out.

After all, we'd still need to play the lovey-dovey couple later.

But he shoved my arm away. "Go reflect on your behavior first. Then come find me."

This time I didn't follow.

Workplace rule number two: when your boss says something, that’s that. Never argue with your boss.

He told me to reflect, so I would reflect.

This time, Jason certainly would not wait to take me home. So… should I go back and finish my king crab?

"Jason can be like that sometimes—so childish and stubborn."

I turned and found Gwen standing behind me, as if she’d been there without my noticing.

I patted my chest. "Oh! Miss Montgomery, why do you always like sneaking up behind people? People really can scare people to death."

Childish and stubborn? She just wanted to remind me, his current girlfriend, of her special place as his ex.

If I played along, she'd launch into one of those humblebrag speeches about how she knew Jason better than anyone.

I wouldn't take the bait.

Sure enough, Gwen looked thrown off by my unexpected reply and froze, unsure how to continue.

My turn to show off. “Since you’re here, Miss Montgomery, let me apologize for Jason. Please don’t mind his behavior earlier. He has nothing against Mr. Reed. He just gets jealous.”

Watching Gwen's expression shift was delicious; it wiped clean the sting of being rebuked by Jason earlier.

Make me miserable, will you? Then I’ll take it out on the woman you love.

Before I could enjoy my victory for long, Gwen asked, “Miss Carter, did you go to Whitmore Academy too?”

Whitmore Academy was a posh private school—definitely not the kind of place a girl like me could afford.

I shook my head quickly, wondering why she brought it up. Was she trying to flaunt her privileged background?

Gwen smiled. “You remind me of an old classmate. Her last name was Carter too, and she also liked Jason. For a moment, I thought you were the same person.”

Because Jason told me to reflect, I didn't want him to think I wasn't taking it seriously. That night I went home to sleep and planned to head over the next day to tell him I'd reflected.

But that night I had a nightmare.

I was back in childhood, surrounded by kids calling me ugly, coveting things that weren't mine.

When I jolted awake, I tried to remember the faces of the children who had bullied me. Once I had enough money, I would hire someone to teach each of them a lesson.

Then I got hungry.

I went to the kitchen to make noodles. First I fried some chopped scallions until fragrant, then added water, brought it to a boil, and put in the noodles. I poached two eggs in the broth.

When I emerged carrying the steaming bowl and flipped on the living room light, I realized someone had somehow taken a seat on my couch.

I screamed and nearly dropped the noodles. "W-When did you get here?!"

Jason sat there properly, a strange sadness in his eyes.

That aside, what was he doing in my apartment?

He ignored my question and stared at my noodles. Then he asked a heavy, philosophical thing: "Am I really that boring?"

Huh?

Didn't he just tell me to reflect? Now he was reflecting first.

I couldn't say my boss was boring. I praised him instead. "Boring is for ordinary people. You're focused, serious—the kind of qualities a successful person needs."

He smiled briefly, but it didn't reach his eyes. "Want to know why Gwen broke up with me?"

I shook my head at once. Obviously. Workplace rule number three: the less you know about your boss’s secrets, the better.

Jason kept talking. "She thinks I'm boring. So she dumped me and went after that Sam."

Oh. No wonder he was mad today.

A cold sweat ran down my spine as I frantically tried to backtrack for praising Sam earlier.

Then I heard myself blurt, "I'll give you half my noodles."

Jason looked at me speechless.

Yeah, noodles were a pathetic bribe.

So I added, "Or—umm—maybe we could do that thing."

To placate him further, I added, "My treat. No charge."

He stared like I was an idiot. I felt embarrassed. "Never mind."

I set the noodles on the table, ready to eat. Honestly, I was a bit disappointed—alone tonight, craving warmth of some kind. If not a body, then hot noodles would have to do.

Before I could sit, I found myself wrapped in a warm embrace.

Then he kissed me, his familiar scent surrounding me.

This time, with that first experience behind us, it was wonderful.

For the first time, I understood that old fish-and-water metaphor for lovers. The ancients really had a way with words.

That night we were like two tireless fish, swimming back and forth until we had nothing left, until we fell asleep exhausted.

The next morning I woke with every muscle aching as if a truck had run over me. Jason was gone—probably off to work, always so dedicated.

I grabbed my phone to order delivery—and noticed a money transfer in WeChat.

Jason had transferred me money again!

I might be an office drone, but I still had my pride. I did not accept it. I messaged him: I said it was my treat, and I meant it.

He replied quickly: Take it. I feel like a purely transactional relationship between us is more comfortable for me.

I was furious. Who did he think he was looking down on? Did he think I could not afford a transaction of my own?

I left his transfer unaccepted and sent him one dollar instead. My message read: Then consider this my purchase!

About fifteen minutes later he accepted the money. Transaction complete, neatly settled.

Given how great last night had been, I thought maybe I could purchase that service again.

But before I could arrange round two, a paparazzo I hired to dig into Sam sent me explosive evidence.

Our shared proletarian hero Sam was apparently a player behind closed doors.

The photos showed him kissing a young woman. The paparazzo said Sam taught at a local art school, and the girl in the photos was his student.

A poor kid landing Miss Montgomery was already a miracle—then he went and cheated, and with his own student, no less.

He's trash.

My newly blossomed good opinion of him evaporated instantly.

I should've sent the photos to Gwen and watched her dump him. But if they broke up, she might reconcile with Jason—and I'd be out of a job.

I'd only been collecting pay for two months; I hesitated. I still wanted to hit my target of earning a million.

I decided to wait two months. One day of being cheated on versus two months? What’s the real difference, right?

Still, putting my interests ahead of Jason's felt like shirking my duty. I felt guilty.

So when I picked out the birthday presents Jason was supposed to give me, I reined myself in. I would save him a little money.

When he saw the expense report I handed him, he looked surprised. "I thought you'd use this chance to splurge."

Apparently, I had made my love of money a little too obvious. I smiled awkwardly. “You’re joking. I have a very strong work ethic.”

He watched me with interest. "Alright then. For being so professional, I'm going to reward you. What do you want for your birthday?"

That stunned me. I pointed to the bills he'd signed. "Everything I want is on here. I booked a restaurant—you could accompany me…"

"That's not what I mean," he interrupted. "I mean, what does the real Lily Carter want for her birthday?"

What the real Lily wanted was money. But with starry eyes I blurted out a childhood wish instead: "I want to ride a Ferris wheel at night."

Jason looked at me, puzzled. "Are you sure that's what you want?"

On my birthday night, Jason rented out an entire amusement park for me.

Just like in a drama, he brought me to the Ferris wheel, clapped his hands, and the whole wheel lit up as if by magic.

The lights spelled: Happy Birthday, Lily Carter.

In that moment I knew it was all bought—everything lit up with money. But I was still so moved.

More moved, even, than if he had given me a million.

I remembered someone promising to light up a Ferris wheel for my birthday when I was young. I had waited so eagerly for that day, only for the promise to be broken. Later, I saw a Ferris-wheel night-light in a shop. One press of a switch lit a string of tiny lights. It was terribly expensive for me then, but I bought it without hesitation. Whenever I switched it on in the dark, it felt as though that missed childhood wish had finally come true.

I did not know when Jason had noticed my Ferris-wheel night-light or why he had decided to grant that wish. I only knew I was deeply grateful.

I fought back tears and said sincerely, "Thank you."

Jason didn't expect me to be so moved. He looked at me, a little amused. "Want to ride it together?"

But heaven couldn't stand to leave me that happy. Before we could get on, Jason's phone rang. It was Gwen.

I don't know what they said. After he hung up, Jason looked serious. "Sorry. You'll have to ride the Ferris wheel alone. Gwen's in trouble. I have to go."

I nodded quickly. "Yeah, go. Go."

Jason Parker hurried off, and I climbed into the Ferris wheel alone.

The night sky was washed clean, a full moon floating overhead.

It was the fifteenth day of the lunar month.

But there I was, riding the Ferris wheel by myself—exactly the scene I’d rehearsed a thousand times in my dreams.

In my imagination, I rode the wind with the moon at my back.

It was supposed to be as beautiful and romantic as the bicycle silhouetted against the moon in E.T.

In reality, circling up there alone, I was terrified.

One thought kept looping in my head: what if it malfunctions and stops midway?

I imagined the next day’s Weibo headline: “Jason Parker Meets Old Flame; Lily Carter Left Hanging Upside Down on Ferris Wheel.” That killed any desire to enjoy the ride.

Besides, the Ferris wheel was uncomfortable. The night wind was freezing and made me feel foolish.

Thanks to Jason, I’d managed to catch a glorious birthday cold.

I half-wondered if this counted as a workplace injury.

When I sneezed my way home, Jason was already waiting inside.

Spread across the table before him were the photos the paparazzo had sent me. His expression demanded an explanation.

“You got these and didn’t give them to me?” he asked.

My brain froze for half a second; I babbled excuses. “I was afraid—”

“You were afraid if you gave them to me I’d stop employing you,” Jason cut in.

So blunt—even a little embarrassing.

I forced a sheepish smile and tried to think of something to say.

But he gave me no chance. “You’re worrying over nothing. Gwen already knows exactly what kind of man Sam Reed is. She just refuses to break up with him.”

Huh?

Jason gave a smile that was uglier than crying. “I lost to a man like that. Do you think it’s funny?”

I nodded, then shook my head. “Miss Montgomery is the one who has misjudged him. That makes her foolish, not you. Don’t worry. Nothing is impossible if you keep at it. Sooner or later, she will come back to you.”

“How do you know?” he asked.

“Because you hired me,” I said. “I won’t let your money go to waste.”

A little professional pride remained.

I promised solemnly, “Look—tonight she opened up and exposed her deepest hurt to you. That means she’s leaning toward you again. Trust me; follow my plan and she’ll be yours in no time.”

Jason looked at me steadily. Something unreadable flashed through his eyes.

For a second I thought—at the darkest point in his life, is he trying to kiss me? That would be utterly shameless.

He’d been grieving Gwen a moment ago!

Luckily, he didn’t kiss me. He only smiled, as if exhaustion had finally hit him. “With an employee like you, what do I have to worry about?”

The next day the headlines showed Jason driving Gwen home late at night.

One photo captured the exact moment he opened the car door for her; their eyes met.

To me it looked like a perfectly normal glance.

But the gossip mob insisted they saw overwhelming devotion in it. They concluded Lily Carter was a joke.

I couldn’t disappoint the crowd, so I booked a flight to Hainan almost immediately.

While arranging my own escape to Hainan, I also made Jason cancel on Gwen and come after me. “Only then will Gwen understand that you’re no longer at her beck and call. If she wants you, she has to take you seriously.”

I patted him on the shoulder as I explained the plan before leaving.

This time Jason followed me to Hainan without argument.

I knew this would probably be the last time I showed up as Jason Parker’s girlfriend.

So I planned things I truly wanted to do with my boyfriend: stroll down old streets hand in hand, eat while wandering—simple, ordinary things.

I even coaxed pristine-Jason to sit at a filthy street stall and eat skewers with me.

He looked disgusted but sat anyway.

It had to be said: as a boss, Jason wasn’t entirely without redeeming qualities.

My predecessor had told me he liked iced water. Once, when I forgot the ice, I hurriedly claimed warm water was healthier so he would not get angry. He accepted it easily enough. He used to work all night, too. I did not want to stay up with him, so I told him it was bad for his health; after that, he never worked past midnight. Tonight, he clearly disliked the street stall, but when I asked him to eat with me just this once, he reluctantly sat down.

For a pampered heir, he could sometimes be surprisingly easy to please.

Thinking of these things made me reluctant to let him go. After I was gone, I’d probably remember him in some lonely late hour. He’d given me my perfect boyfriend fantasy—maybe I’d never find someone more handsome. Or maybe I’d never date again.

That night we drank too much.

While we were drunk, Gwen called again. I declined the call for him. “Trust me. Don’t answer tonight. By the time you get back tomorrow, she will be your girlfriend for good.”

I used the moment to demand more money. “I helped you achieve in two months what you couldn’t in years. You only paid me six hundred thousand—you should at least give me ten million.”

“What would you do with so much?” he asked.

“Buy a villa. Retire. Relax. Eat and wander. Spend my later years counting money with Max the cat.”

I counted off the reasons on my fingers.

“Fine,” he said.

When I woke the next morning, Max, no, Jason, was already gone. Probably off to find Gwen.

I couldn’t tell if his promise of ten million had been real or a drunken dream.

I grabbed my phone to check for a transfer—and found I’d made hot search again.

This time, a post exposed my old name, Lucy Carter. It claimed that I had fallen for Jason at twelve, in my first year of middle school, been brutally rejected, and then changed my name and had cosmetic surgery to slip into his life. The story made me sound like a creep.

And the creep they described was me.

I knew this was Gwen’s counterstrike.

It was time for a clean break.

My name used to be Lucy Carter.

I liked Jason Parker for a very long time.

So long that it added up to fourteen years, seven months, and twenty-one days.

Yes—on that September 1st, fourteen years, seven months, and twenty-one days ago, I realized I liked him.

We were both twelve then.

We were in our first year of middle school at Whitmore Academy, a prestigious school with a century of history.

On the first day I carried a new thermos filled with boiling water. My mom told me to cool it before drinking or at least dilute it. I planned to.

After gym class I poured out some hot water to cool it and saw an incredibly handsome boy walk into our classroom. We locked eyes and I panicked. I picked up my cup and took a sip.

I sprayed it all straight back out.

What a mess.

The boy, who had already sat down, got up again and handed me a bottle of water. “Have some cool water first. Next time, mix in some cold water so it’s lukewarm before you drink it.”

I tried to blow on my scorched mouth while my face burned as I gulped the water. That day I learned his name—Jason Parker.

Later I thought maybe, in Jason’s eyes, I looked like a little dog who’d been burned.

Jason was outgoing and friendly and had many friends. I didn’t dare try to be his friend—I only dared to have a secret crush.

I even wrote him a love letter, but I didn’t have the courage to give it to him. I was the ugly duckling; liking the swan wasn’t wrong, but letting the swan know? That would be my mistake. Still, writing a letter felt like the right thing for a proper girl in love.

That letter somehow ended up in Jason’s desk and his friend Henry Reed read it aloud to the whole grade.

From then on I was a joke schoolwide.

I was not pretty, my grades were nothing special, and my family was not particularly wealthy. For a girl like me to like a boy as rich and popular as Jason was apparently an unforgivable crime.

Other girls who might’ve liked Jason but dared not to speak of it made me their imaginary rival. What began as mocking when they saw me too weak to fight back escalated into bullying.

I didn’t know whether Jason knew I was bullied because of him. I’d fantasized that maybe he’d stand up for me—just one word would be enough.

On my thirteenth birthday I found a note from him. He’d asked me to meet at the suburban amusement park that night. He said he’d take me on the Ferris wheel and light it up with my name.

I went full of hope.

I waited until the moon was high and Jason never came.

I knew then I’d been deceived.

I did not know whether Jason had tricked me or someone around him had. I wanted to believe it was someone else.

I walked home step by step and never returned to that school. I told my mother everyone else was so rich and we couldn’t catch up; I was unhappy and needed to transfer. At that time, my father’s business had failed, so my mother quickly arranged the transfer.

Later I changed schools, changed my name, had surgery, and made it through university.

But I couldn’t forget Jason Parker.

Not exaggerating—after becoming “pretty,” I had plenty of suitors.

None of them were Jason.

Maybe fate—though really I’d been keeping tabs on him all along—led me to see his job posting for a personal assistant the first time I looked for work after graduation.

I knew his father was powerful and Jason himself had become very successful. But the man in the headlines now was not the boy I’d remembered.

In every gossip column, he’d already become the rumored boyfriend of a string of starlets — basically the dream of millions of young women.

I wondered what was wrong with him.

So when I found out he was hiring a secretary, I begged my sister who worked HR at his company and managed to get through to the final interview. I got the job and finally slipped into Jason Parker’s orbit.

To be honest, on my first day I half-hoped he’d recognize me. He didn’t.

I thought he probably did not remember a girl named Lily Carter. No, Lucy Carter.

That was just as well. It made staying close without giving myself away much easier.

Hearing about it was one thing. Watching Jason Parker go from meaningless fling to meaningless fling with such empty-eyed detachment — that tore me up.

In my memory he’d been bright and warm.

Now his gaze was hollow. His heart felt hollow, too.

I didn’t know what had happened to him, but that emptiness might actually be an opportunity for me.

If the perfect Jason Parker I remembered only made me sigh with regret, then this hollow shell of a man might finally be something I could possess.

So I tried to fill the void.

I worked harder than ever. Once I had earned his trust, I began trying to reshape him, little by little, in my own way. He liked iced water, so I got him to enjoy warm water again. He had terrible insomnia and worked through the night, so I helped him find sleep again. He numbed himself with one woman after another, so I kept reminding him that they only loved his money.

I treated all his girlfriends badly, reducing their feelings for him to the crudest possible terms: a simple exchange for money.

Before long, I had a reputation as the head eunuch of Jason’s harem.

I didn’t care.

Even if the whole world hated me, as long as Jason one day liked me, it would be enough.

I knew I’d become a villain — no different from those girls who once bullied me.

But karma exists. The heavens don’t let wickedness win forever.

I didn’t get love. I didn’t fill his emptiness.

Because I discovered the hole in his heart wasn’t for anyone like me — it was for Gwen Montgomery.

Gwen had been our classmate too, one of the school beauties. Now she was a rich, beautiful society darling whom even the hottest young actresses envied.

I felt utterly defeated.

Still, I hoped at least one of us could be happy.

If Jason could be happy, that would be enough.

After thinking hard, I hit on a plan: maybe a fake relationship could provoke Gwen and draw her back.

And who would be the expendable stand-in for that fake romance? It had to be me.

No one would work harder for him. No one would be easier to send away afterward. And I truly wanted to be closer to Jason. Even a pretend romance would give me something to treasure for the rest of my life.

So I told him I’d help win Gwen back — for money.

Painful as it was, I told myself: if it worked, it would be a three-way win.

Jason would get love, I’d get money and the experience of pretending to be loved.

The poor don’t need real love — experience suffices.

But when I realized that my plan had actually worked, I still cried.

At first I thought I was about to truly lose Jason.

But then I told myself I never really had him to begin with, so how could I lose him?

That made me cry harder.

Between sobs I remembered what one of those young actresses had cried to me at the time: “I want him. I want the man himself.”

Who didn’t want Jason Parker?

But he was more than any of us could handle.

The only upside was I’d become comfortably well-off.

20. Jason Parker’s Story

I had known all along that Lily Carter used to be Lucy Carter. I ran detailed background checks on everyone who worked for me.

I kept her because what she had suffered back then had something to do with my own failure to act as a boy.

She used to like me and even wrote me a love letter.

To be honest, it was the first love letter I had ever received. Before I could read it, Henry Reed took it and read it aloud for everyone to hear.

I didn’t stop him because I saw Gwen had told Henry to read it.

We had only just started middle school.

I liked Gwen. She liked to cause trouble, and I indulged her.

I thought letting her be wild and watching her laugh was my kind of love.

Back then, I never stopped to think how Lucy Carter felt about being made a joke of.

I’d completely forgotten she existed — until she came to apply for my secretary job under the name Lily Carter.

Her timid eyes brought back the image of that small girl who’d fled in confusion the day Gwen made a joke of her.

By then Gwen had long since left me. For reasons I couldn’t explain, I wanted to know what Lily Carter wanted.

At first she did nothing out of line — she stayed by my side and was more responsible than any of my previous secretaries.

For a long time I thought she’d simply taken the job for the pay.

But gradually I noticed details — little signs she still liked me.

She’d secretly switch my water to warm. I’d been ready to snap about it until I overheard her recommending warm water for health to someone. Even I couldn’t publicly reject that kind gesture, so from then on she only gave me warm water.

She kept telling me not to work past midnight. “Going to bed after midnight is bad for your heart, liver, spleen, and lungs,” she would say. There were plenty of little things like that, things none of my previous secretaries had ever done. They were paid employees who treated my words as orders.

Only she seemed to care.

Just as I hopelessly cared for Gwen.

Lily made me feel less alone, so I kept her around and amused myself watching her antics.

But my heart belonged to Gwen, and the most I could do for Lily was not expose her.

What exposed her in the end was my getting plastered over Gwen’s engagement.

She offered to be my fake girlfriend — to help me win Gwen back.

I was stunned.

She shamelessly argued that juggling ten starlets was both a strain and bad for my public image. The money would be spent either way, she said; if I “focused” on her alone, at least there would be no need to put on an act. Hire her for ten million, and she guaranteed she could win Gwen back for me.

I had to admit Lily was clever, and she knew me well. Her plan appealed to me while also letting her date the man she liked at his expense and earn money in the process.

If it had been anyone else, I’d have applauded.

But it was me, and I couldn’t hand her ten million. If I paid her that, she wouldn’t be my secretary anymore. I’m a businessman; I didn’t want to lose my favorite employee so quickly.

Still, I wanted Gwen — I’d never lost so miserably in my life. So I said I’d pay Lily three hundred thousand a month to start.

Because of that monthly pay, Lily threw herself into the act of loving me and helping me chase Gwen.

She threw herself in so completely she gave me her first time.

Afterwards, for reasons I could not quite explain, I transferred her a million.

I told myself I wanted nothing between us except money and an employment arrangement.

But over the next few days, she kept hovering around me and earnestly studying classic erotic novels, as though she wanted to sleep with me again.

Or perhaps she just wanted to earn another few million that way. Neither possibility sat well with me.

If she truly loved me, I’d been cruel. I couldn’t accept that version of myself.

But if she was only being professional, or wanted the money, I found that even harder to accept.

After that, my feelings for her grew complicated, and that frightened me.

I was the same with Gwen.

Was it love? I didn’t know.

All I knew was that Gwen and Lily’s names kept flashing through my mind, sometimes so intermingled I couldn’t tell which one I thought of more.

My mother made things worse.

After taking Lily to that gathering, Mom gave her a pearl necklace. It had been part of Mom’s dowry, a gift from her own mother.

When I asked how she could bear to part with it, she said she had not seen someone who refused to waste food in a long time, and that deserved a reward.

I warned Mom she might regret giving away such a meaningful gift. She told me not giving would bring regret and told me to stop pining for Gwen — loving Gwen would only end in regret.

Soon enough, Mom’s words proved true.

One day, at Lily’s arrangement, I “chased” her to Hainan.

After a day of eating and sightseeing like ordinary people, Gwen — just as Lily had predicted — called me.

Red-eyed, Lily declined the call for me. She told me I must not answer that night: by the time I returned the next day, Gwen would be my girlfriend.

As she said that, Lily’s eyes shone with tears.

In that moment I was sure she truly liked me.

But then she acted like an idiot, nagging me: “You only gave me six hundred thousand? Aren’t you ashamed? You should give me ten million.”

I asked what she wanted the money for. She said she wanted to quit working and take it easy.

Maybe it was that talk of retiring that got to me. I pulled her close, and we spent an almost feverish night together.

I got to the airport at six in the morning.

For some reason, even knowing Gwen was waiting, I felt no excitement — only emptiness.

It was a familiar hollow — my heart had been hollow for Gwen before.

At the airport, one thing became clear: I regretted coming. I realized I had stopped loving Gwen long ago, perhaps when she gave me up for that ridiculous man. My obsession had only been about winning.

And Lily had made me win.

At that moment, images of Lily flashed through my mind, overwhelming everything else.

I called Gwen and told her I liked Lily now.

Gwen was furious.

She told me Lily Carter was Lucy Carter, the girl who had written me a love letter as a child. An ugly little thing back then, she said, and a cosmetic-surgery freak now.

So Gwen could get jealous too.

I laughed. "Your double eyelids weren't exactly natural either, were they?"

Honestly, I didn't care whether Lily had gone under the knife.

Driving back to find Lily, I was clear-headed.

I wanted to confront her in person, strip away the act—tell her to stop pretending. She clearly liked me, and yet she hid it by acting like she only cared about my money.

I even convinced myself I didn't care whether Lily loved me for me or for my wealth.

When I showed up and told her I liked her, she was crying.

She was stunned for a long moment, then her voice trembled as she asked, "You're not going to take the money back, are you?"

I laughed out loud.

Perfect. She loved money, and I happened to have more than enough to make sure she'd always love me.

We were, truly, a match made in heaven.

(The End)
□ Wanquan Temple Superman