As promised, the system cured my terminal illness, erased every trace of my existence, and sent me abroad. I thought I would never see him again. But six years later, that same system found me. It told me that there was a role for a malicious supporting female character, and it needed me to play it. "If I become malicious, mean, and greedy, Oliver Vance... will you still love me?" 1 The plane slowly descended, and the familiar bustling traffic and skyscrapers of the city unfolded before my eyes. Looking at the view from the window, I let out a deep breath. If the system hadn't threatened me with complete erasure, I never would have agreed to come back. After all, our breakup back then was incredibly ugly. He chased me all the way to the airport. The corners of his eyes were red as he screamed my name through the crowded terminal, just to beg me not to leave. Forty-nine times. Each one more desperate than the last. But until my back disappeared at the end of the security checkpoint... He didn't get a single response. Back then, he truly loved me. He loved me so much that even when I told him to his face I only approached him for his money, he didn't care. I sold everything he gave me, even that ring, and boarded the plane to a foreign country. Before blocking him on WeChat, I left him one final message: "Sorry, Mr. Vance. It was just for fun. Why did you take it so seriously?" In the airport, the slender boy hunched over, practically breaking down, hot tears falling drop by drop. When he was ostracized and gossiped about for being the illegitimate son of a wealthy family, the only person who stood by his side had now abandoned him too. The only beam of light in his oppressive life had suddenly extinguished. The blow to him was massive. The scene was captured by a bystander and uploaded to the internet. The hashtag "Boy in Black Chases Ex to Airport Begging for Reconciliation" instantly went viral. Oliver's identity was exposed that very day. He was a wealthy heir from a prominent family, where just the hair tie on his wrist cost tens of thousands. Six years passed. People were still constantly posting comparison videos of Oliver. The miserable, defeated boy in the airport had grown into a powerful, influential tycoon, his features now carrying an arrogant, ruthless edge. The caption below the video read: "Does the girl from the airport regret it now?" 2 Did I regret it? Maybe. If I had just broken up with him a little more gracefully back then, the current mission wouldn't be so tricky. [Detected that the female lead, Chloe Thorne, is currently at KK Bar. Host, please proceed to the location immediately. Use your identity as the 'first love' to mock and belittle her.] Chloe Thorne? The wealthy heiress who relentlessly pursued Oliver in our senior year of high school? When she found out I was Oliver's girlfriend, she purposely came to provoke me. She tore up my exam papers, threw cold water on me, and tried to force me to break up with him. I twitched the corner of my mouth. [System, your taste in female leads is seriously terrible.] [Host, please just focus on completing the mission.] The system's voice remained cold and detached. 3 The bar at midnight was lively and loud. Wearing a black fishtail dress, I swayed my hips to the beat of the music, blending in with the dancing crowd. Even with heavy makeup, the woman in the distance noticed me. Her gaze closely followed my every move. I flipped my hair and turned my face fully in her direction. Soon, two men in black suits pulled me away from the dance floor. "It really is you, Elena Miller. "I didn't expect you to have the guts to come back." She swirled her wine glass, looking me up and down with a contemptuous gaze. Her haughty tone was exactly the same as it was back then. I rubbed my wrist, sat down across from her, and looked at her with eyes full of amusement. "What, afraid I'm back to steal Oliver away?" "Afraid? Afraid of what?" She acted as if she had heard a joke, the corners of her lips turning up even more. "You're the one who should be afraid. "You didn't just scam him out of his money back then; you scammed his feelings. He looked for you for years and couldn't find you. And now, you show up yourself. You should know, Oliver hates deception and betrayal the most. "Guess how a vindictive man like him will torture you?" Her eyes held obvious schadenfreude. "Oh, well, that doesn't change the fact that I'm his first love." My tone was light and indifferent. The smile on her lips noticeably faded. "That was in the past," she emphasized. "At least I was, once," I retorted, latching onto her point. Amidst the blaring background music, we stared at each other. The amusement in my eyes grew stronger. She finally cracked, leaning in closer, gritting her teeth. "Elena, have you no shame? "You've been gone for so many years. Oliver has been mine for a long time now. "The person he loves now is me! Me! I'm warning you, stop being so delusional!" Saying that, she opened her phone. She forcefully pointed at an entertainment news headline in bold red font for me to see. A-List Actress Chloe Thorne and Powerful Tycoon Behave Intimately, Suspected Romance Exposed. The photos were blurry shots of a man and a woman from behind—eating at a restaurant, walking side-by-side on the street, getting into a car one after the other. I tapped the screen, zooming in on the blurry side profile. "Stop doubting it. It's Oliver." She curled her lips into a triumphant smile. "I never said it wasn't him," I replied flatly. She scoffed, then opened her photo album to show me. The background looked like a family gathering. A woman stood next to a man, her head resting slightly on his broad shoulder, smiling radiantly. I glanced at it twice, pushed the phone back, and leaned against my chair. Fingers laced together in my lap, I slowly rubbed my index finger. In six years, he had completely shed his boyish aura. Dressed in a sharp black suit, he looked cold and dominant. The eyes looking into the camera were utterly freezing. He used to be aloof and unapproachable, too. But whenever I touched the small mole at the corner of his eye... His eyelashes would flutter, and he would indulge my actions with a slow, unblinking gaze. He never possessed this intimidating, oppressive aura he had now. A slightly unfamiliar Oliver. As if reading my mind, the system spoke up indifferently: [No one stays the same, Host. He couldn't possibly retain all his past feelings. Your identity as the 'first love' is just a facade now. You just need to use this facade to complete the mission.] I paused, downed the drink in my glass, and smiled. "He might not remember everything, but he couldn't have forgotten everything, either." Just as I stood up to leave, the person behind me suddenly stood up and shouted, "Elena! He only loves me now! I'll say it again, don't show your face here! Or he'll skin you alive!" So stubborn. I stopped, turned around, and smiled. "Well, that's unfortunate. I just signed with Oliver's company. Guess we'll be seeing each other every day." "Elena! You did this on purpose, didn't you?!" she demanded, furious. "Yep, on purpose. I haven't forgotten the things you did to me using your family's money back then. Guess who the company will give the better resources to from now on—you or me?" I kept smiling. She turned pale with anger, picking up her wine glass to throw it at me. But the next moment, her footsteps halted abruptly. In a daze, it felt as if the music in the bar had paused for a second. Sensing something, I followed her gaze and turned my head. Amidst the noise, a blurry yet familiar figure froze in my pupils. The man wore a long, black trench coat, the buttons left undone. The hair on his forehead was slightly messy from the wind, as if he had rushed over from a meeting. Countless eyes were on him. But he just stood there, looking at me. Across the crowd and the noise, it felt like a dream. A long-awaited reunion. I thought he should hate me. But I didn't see any hatred or resentment in his eyes. Instead, there was a surge of some obscure, unspeakable emotion. "Hi. Long time no see." In the end, I was the first to speak, smiling and greeting him. 4 We ended up eating together anyway. Throughout the meal, Chloe kept serving Oliver food, every action designed to show how intimate her relationship with him was now. And Oliver barely said a word. His jaw was tight, his face expressionless. But his gaze was restrained yet burning. Looking closely, there was even a hint of caution. I had to admit, it created a stark contrast within him. When dessert was finally served, Chloe saw the three small orange mousse cakes and covered her mouth, laughing. "Oh, Oliver, you still ordered my favorite. I remember Elena is allergic to mangoes, right?" She shot a triumphant look in my direction. But as soon as she finished speaking, a waiter placed a different small dessert plate in front of me. "Miss, your chocolate mousse." "Hmm?" I looked up at the man across from me. "For you." His voice was very soft, but his eyes uncontrollably fell on me, carrying a faint anticipation. It was my favorite flavor from the past. I paused, put on a smile, and said politely, "Thank you, Mr. Vance." 5 "Next mission: Sow discord between the male and female leads, and steal the female lead's script." In the restroom, I was carefully touching up my makeup in the mirror. I asked, surprised, "That simple?" The system paused. [Host, you'd better have a clear understanding of yourself. [Don't forget how you abandoned the male lead back then.] I touched my freshly glossed lips and smiled. [System, I think you're underestimating the destructive power of a 'first love.'] In the mirror, those narrow, cold eyes suddenly met mine. "Is there something you need?" I put my lipstick back in my bag and turned around calmly. He pressed his lips together, looking at me silently, his eyes as dark as ink. His Adam's apple bobbed as if he wanted to say something, but he remained silent. I chuckled and casually called his name, "Oliver." The slightly raised intonation at the end was exactly the same as it was back then. His hands clenched tightly at his sides, his knuckles turning white. I just stood there, eyes smiling, watching him leisurely. [System, see that? [The first love doesn't have to do anything. [The first love just needs to stand there, and it hurts him to his very core, agonizingly so.] The system was silent for a long time before saying, [Host, you are very cruel.] [Aren't the ones who designed this mission cruel too?] I lowered my eyes indifferently. They insist on giving this interrupted story the worst possible ending. Forcing the boy to watch helplessly as everything from his past is destroyed in a tragedy. 6 I forget how we ended up kissing. I only remember that, as our breaths mingled and our eyes met, the emotions in his eyes churned like a stormy sea. The next moment, I was pinned against the wall. An oppressive, vindictive kiss fell upon me, urgent and fiery. Just as I was running out of breath, he gradually slowed down, becoming gentle, reverent, and cautious. Eventually, he held me tightly, his forehead resting against my neck, breathing deeply. He seemed incredibly wounded and fragile. My heart trembled slightly. My shoulder felt a little damp. I looked at his slightly messy hair and couldn't resist reaching out to smooth it. "I have a room on the top floor. Want to come up?" "Yes." His voice was muffled and raspy. 7 The lights in the room were off. My kisses fell on his neck, his collarbone. Unable to handle it, he fell back onto the sofa, panting heavily. I gently bit his earlobe, asking with practiced ease and a light laugh, "Oliver, do you like it?" His expression visibly froze. I was using him. Using his past feelings to manipulate him. His expression turned cold. Just before he could push me away, I kissed him again. I easily pried open his lips, gradually taking over. Slowly, the hand pushing me away lost its strength. ... "What do you want?" His voice was hoarse, suppressing his emotions. The redness at the corners of his eyes hadn't faded, and his large hands rested restrained on my lower back. I thought he would ask where I'd been all these years, why I didn't come back, why I lied to him, or maybe settle old scores and say something harsh. But he didn't. He chose to ask a question about the present. Asking what my motive was for approaching him. I rested my chin on one hand, my fingers casually tapping his abs. With a beaming smile, I said, "The lead female role in Chloe's new drama. You know I don't like her." [Host, you'd better not be this direct.] The system couldn't help but issue a warning. [No one would agree to your request under these circumstances.] Is that so? I looked at the man in front of me with those beautiful, smiling eyes. He pressed his lips together tightly, holding my gaze. I could even feel the rise and fall of his chest and his faint breaths. One second. Two seconds. Three seconds. "Can you do that?" I asked. The defenses he had built in his heart were effortlessly shattered. His Adam's apple bobbed. He looked deeply at me and rasped out a single word: "Yes." The smile on my lips deepened. "Thank you, Mr. Vance." I straightened up, preparing to rise, and casually added, [System, I suggest you stay quiet while I'm doing my missions, otherwise the face-slapping every time...] Suddenly, two large hands grabbed my waist. Caught off guard, I fell back onto his lap. "Elena." He buried his face in my neck, breathing deeply. I froze. My mind went blank for a second. A muffled, hoarse voice came from my neck, carrying a deep sense of helplessness and an indescribable longing. He said, "Please, stop playing with me. " I can't take being played like this." 8 Oliver drove me back. The car pulled up smoothly in front of a hotel. Just as I unbuckled my seatbelt to get out, he suddenly reached out and grabbed me. "You're staying here?" "Is there a problem?" He rolled down the window, looking at the neon hotel sign missing a letter and the unattended front desk. "It's not safe." "This hotel was investigated for some issues a few years ago." The dim yellow interior light spilled onto the messy hair on his head. He looked at me, his Adam's apple bobbing slightly, and asked, "Stay at my place. Please?" I didn't answer. I just followed his gaze out the window. Old wooden windows swayed in the wind, and the surrounding area was completely deserted. Because the system had rushed me to the bar the moment I got off the plane, I didn't have much time and just found the nearest hotel to drop my bags. I didn't expect the hotel, which looked fine in the afternoon, to look so creepy at night. "It's fine," I swallowed hard. "I checked it out this afternoon. It's livable." At this point, I had secretly resolved to sprint upstairs as fast as possible, lock the door, and hide under the covers. Just as my hand touched the door handle, the person next to me spoke again, "I think I just saw a woman in a white dress with disheveled hair walk by." Seeing me freeze, he added very softly, "She looked like she was floating." After a brief second of hesitation, I decisively let go of the door handle and leaned back in my seat.
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