After the Male Lead went bankrupt, I followed him into a damp basement. Money was tight, and life was hard. Yet, he still tried to provide for me, his "spoiled and vicious" wife. The System ordered me to maintain my character persona. But my conscience was too heavy. Every time I did something "bad," I was consumed by guilt. So, after bullying him, I would secretly cry. Late at night, I snuck into his makeshift room and lifted his sleeve. A four-inch gash, angry and terrifying. That was the price of the winter coat I had forced him to buy. He had worked himself to the bone for it. Applying ointment to the wound, I wept silently. "System, when will he finally ask for a divorce?" I didn't want to be the villain anymore. I didn't want him to get hurt because of me. The System looked at his arm, wet with my tears. Then it looked at his eyelashes, which were trembling slightly. It sighed. [Divorce?] [He's going to love you for the rest of his life.] Chapter 1 "Thank goodness no one picked it up. See? I told you it was pretty. Even the ribbon is tied perfectly." It was 10 PM. I stood under a streetlamp, holding the bouquet I had just retrieved from the trash, my voice full of delight. The System responded with a cold sneer. [Five-dollar roses, eight-dollar jasmine, and ten dollars for the wrapping.] [A cheap gift worth less than twenty-five bucks, and you sneak out in the middle of the night to dig through garbage for it? You might as well just live in the dumpster.] I fell silent for a moment before whispering, "System, you're mean." The System scoffed again. But honestly, I didn't have much ground to stand on. After all, not long ago, I had said equally terrible things to Ethan. I had smashed the flowers onto the floor right in front of him. When he bent down to pick them up, I screamed at him: "Other women get 999 roses! And you? If you're broke, don't embarrass yourself by giving gifts. It's ugly and takes up space. It's humiliating!" "Can't you make more money? Being married to a pauper like you is the worst luck of my life." It wasn't just flowers. There was also a box of fresh strawberries. His boss had given them to him after a site visit. Ethan didn't eat a single one. He brought them all home for me. The System rolled its eyes, clearly disdainful of my attachment to the trash-picked flowers. [Can you stop caring about meaningless things? Stick to the script! You are a vicious, unreasonable supporting character. Your only purpose is to humiliate the Male Lead. I've had enough of your stupidity!] Its tone was irritable, urging me to go back. I pretended not to hear. I squatted down, carefully pressing the jasmine flowers into a bookmark before slowly walking back. The strawberries he saved for me. The flowers he went out of his way to buy. If these things, despised by the System, were meaningless... Then what in this world had meaning? Chapter 2 [Next mission: Force the Male Lead to buy you an expensive coat before Christmas.] That was the System's answer. Ethan was home early for once. He was standing on a stool, fixing the broken lightbulb. The basement was old, the wiring faulty. It broke, he fixed it. It broke again. "I bought a rechargeable lamp. I charge it every day at work. If the light breaks again, don't touch it. Just turn on the lamp and wait for me." I held a glass of warm orange juice, my face clean and soft, standing gently behind him. Ethan, whose hands were once pampered and smooth, now had fingers stained with grime and palms covered in small cuts. "I..." I stammered for a long time before delivering the scripted line: "Christmas is coming. You have to buy me an expensive coat so I can dress up. Otherwise, how can I celebrate Christmas properly?" I showed him a screenshot on my phone, feigning ferocity: "This one. You must buy it for me. If you can't, you useless trash, don't bother coming home." Ethan washed his hands thoroughly before taking the phone. He looked at it for a long time, then looked up. His voice betrayed no emotion. "Just this one?" At the same time, the System shrieked in my head: [What the hell? $120? Are you crazy? Where did you find a 'luxury' coat for that price?] The brand required by the plot was too expensive. Luckily, I was smart and scoured Poshmark and eBay. Sure enough, I found someone selling a $600 coat for $120, shipping included. Dropping the price to $120 meant Ethan would have to work a few less days, sweat a little less. "Just this one?" Ethan asked again. Long afterwards, I would understand the obscure emotion in his eyes. Once, $120 wouldn't even buy a button on his shirt. But for me, squeezed into this dilapidated basement with him, it was a "luxury" coat I longed for. When he was at his peak, I received nothing. When he fell, I suffered with him. But at that moment, I didn't understand. I thought he felt the price was too high, that I was bullying him too much. Ashamed, I started babbling: "Oh, um, well, I can haggle. Maybe I can get it for less than $120..." I almost forgot my persona, my mind filled with panic and bargaining strategies. Suddenly, my hand was empty. Ethan had reheated the orange juice and handed it back to me. "Lipstick, hat, scarf, Christmas tree, apple, cake." Outside, the cold wind howled. Inside the narrow room, it was peaceful. I was guided to sit on the sofa in a daze. Ethan half-squatted in front of me. I looked into his dark, beautiful eyes. "You need those too," "To celebrate Christmas properly." He said. Chapter 3 Ethan was a man of his word. The day before Christmas, I received the "unreasonable" gift. Perfect cut, soft fabric, vibrant color. The System sighed in relief: [You almost messed it up. Luckily, the Male Lead bought it new from the mall. Hahaha, you didn't know he's a germaphobe, right? Who would buy second-hand clothes? Only someone with a donkey brain like you...] The System mocked me mercilessly, but I didn't care. "You said... he bought it at the mall?" After Ethan went bankrupt, his former rivals targeted him. He couldn't work at big companies or find a proper office job. He could only go to construction sites, warehouses, docks—doing manual labor paid by the day. And I, his vain and spoiled wife, squandered his wages the moment I got them. I pressed my lips together. "$600. Where did he get the money?" Chapter 4 Soon, I found out. Someone posted a photo online. Because the person in it was so handsome, it went viral locally. [Our building management hired a window cleaner. Hot, right?] [Damn, I want a handsome guy at my door too... Wait, why doesn't my building offer this service? 0 stars!] [I live in that complex! The people upstairs are trash. They left a flower pot on the ledge. It fell and hit the guy. Huge gash, blood everywhere. It scared me to death.] [Yeah, the guy has a good temper. He just asked for private compensation. If it were me, I'd expose those neighbors online!] That night, I snuck into Ethan's "room." It was just a corner of the living room curtained off with a folding bed. Another bad thing I did: I hogged the bedroom and wouldn't let him in. I lifted his sleeve. Sure enough, a four-inch gash, angry and terrifying. Suspended 26 stories high, clinging to the outside of a window. Holding on by a single rope, descending from the sky. Meeting the judgmental gazes of strangers as he cleaned glass pane after glass pane. Ethan, had you already decided to buy that coat when you were up there? "You didn't even tell me you were hurt." The wound had been treated hastily. Ethan pretended nothing was wrong. At dinner, he gave me an apple but didn't peel it like usual. He said: "Christmas apples should be eaten with the skin. That keeps the peace and safety intact." It wasn't about tradition. It was because his left hand was injured. He couldn't hold the knife, so he made up a clumsy lie. And that lie only fooled the stupid, vicious me. Applying ointment to the wound, I carefully traced the scars on his wrist. This one was from a construction tool when he moved bricks to pay for my fever medicine. This one was from a steel pipe when he fought someone after I demanded a gold necklace. And this one... that one... I tried to control my emotions, but the more I tried, the more tears fell. The System tried to comfort me: [Stop crying. Honestly, you're the unlucky one. If you'd married him a year ago, you'd be a rich wife with multiple properties. Now you get nothing but a basement. Spending a few bucks of his is nothing.] I should blame Ethan. Blame him for going bankrupt, for being poor, for not giving me a good life. But Ethan... fell from the sky into the mud overnight. Mocked, humiliated, enduring strange looks while doing hard labor under the scorching sun. And when he came home, all he got was my spoiled accusations: "You useless trash. No ambition. You can't even buy me jewelry. If I were you, I'd hit my head against a wall and die." In the dead of night, Ethan, when you look at the moldy ceiling... Do you think of the high-spirited, promising man you were a year ago? Outside, the bleak wind blew. Inside, his eyelashes trembled. I pressed my cheek against his palm, my tears slowly soaking his wrist. "System, when will Ethan ask for a divorce?" I don't want to do bad things anymore. I don't want to bully him. This Christmas Eve is dim, and the apple is bitter. If he divorces me... Will he stop working himself to death? Will he stop needing three jobs a day? Will he stop getting hurt?
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