I was a model, five years in the industry, and I’d been criticized for everything imaginable. Worse, I’d offended the darling of the heir to the Holt Corporation. I was blacklisted, my name dragged through the mud. In the glittering world of fame and fortune, I was taught a harsh lesson. Then, the internet dug up my past: I had once been engaged to that very heir, Jason Holt. The trolls were ecstatic. "No wonder Jason Holt hates her so much. With her background, how could she ever be Mrs. Holt?" "It has to be Miss Miller. She’s sweet, a talented actress, and the perfect future daughter-in-law for the Holts." I walked out of the hospital. For the first time in a long while, I opened my social media and posted a single line. "An engagement can be broken at any time. I will never marry." Later, I went to the Arctic to see the aurora. I left one final message. "Saw the northern lights. In this one second, I was happy." 1 The moment I was diagnosed with bone cancer, my world went numb. Leaning against the hospital corridor, my eyes felt dry and empty, my limbs refusing to move. My manager, Sarah, stood frozen for a long moment before gently pulling my head onto her shoulder. "It's going to be okay," she whispered. "Maybe there'll be a miracle. You can be cured." I didn’t cry. The world just felt… quiet. Finally, I was the one to break the silence. "Sarah, let's go over my current contracts. I want to finish everything up early, and then I'll retire." My words shattered her composure. She hugged me tightly, her shoulders shaking with silent sobs. The next day, I was trending for all the wrong reasons. "Washed-up model Clara Lynn spotted at hospital, rumored to have had an abortion for a wealthy tycoon." "Zoom in on the picture. Her eyes are red. The tycoon must not have wanted the baby. She tried to trap him and failed." "LOL, this is hilarious. The most shameless person in entertainment." "Three years ago, there were rumors she was beaten up by the tycoon's wife." Sarah stormed into my apartment, fuming. "This is absolute garbage." "That's it. I'm suing them for defamation. These rumor-mongers need to be held accountable." But the company’s response was cold. "Sarah, bad press is still press." It was clear they had no intention of taking down the posts. They’d already branded me as that kind of celebrity. I shook my head, signaling for Sarah to let it go. The online hate… I truly couldn't feel it anymore. 2 On the set of "The Artisan," I ran into Jason Holt. And, of course, a young actress named Mia Miller. It was only then that I realized Holt Corporation had invested in the film. Mia, originally cast as the second female lead, had been elevated to co-lead. Sarah was furious. She confronted the producer. "Clara pushed aside all her other work for this film. She spent a year studying with a master carver, who personally requested her for the lead role. Now you're making the second lead a co-lead? What is the meaning of this?" The producer just shrugged. "Holt Corporation is the investor. My hands are tied." As the producer walked away, I pulled Sarah back. "Let's run my lines." In the break room, I was silently reciting my script when a tall figure walked past the door, followed by a pretty young woman. "Jason," she said, her voice sweet, "I'm so happy you could be here for the first day of filming." The man grunted a cool "Mm." 3 During filming, the director's standards were sky-high. Mia messed up her lines repeatedly, slowing down the entire production. But no one dared to complain. Even after Jason left, his presence lingered, and no one wanted to cross Mia. We wrapped the last night scene after midnight. Too exhausted to even remove my makeup, I ducked into the bathroom. The sink was filled with blood. My hands trembled. As I came out, I unexpectedly ran into Jason. He glanced at me, his eyes cold. Our gazes met for a brief, charged moment. I clenched my fists. I was about to walk over, to say something, anything. But he had already stubbed out his cigarette and turned away. Five years ago, when we broke up, he’d said, "Clara, if you don't go abroad with me, we're over." Five years ago, he left the country, and I entered the entertainment industry. 4 The next day, Jason hired the best acting coach to tutor Mia on set. Her number of takes decreased dramatically. The filming schedule got back on track, which was a relief for me. My increasingly frail body appreciated the shorter days. But two weeks later, during a scene where I was supposed to be slapped, Mia couldn’t get it right. We spent the entire morning on that one scene. I was slapped more than ten times. And of course, Jason chose that day to visit the set. The director, fuming but helpless, could only patiently demonstrate the correct way to perform the slap over and over. But Mia seemed to have lost her mind that day, unable to learn. Finally, on her last attempt, my nose started to bleed profusely. A flicker of fear crossed her eyes. The next take, she finally got it right. During the lunch break, my head was spinning, and the nosebleed wouldn't stop. My face was ashen. Sarah, terrified, said she would ask for the afternoon off so I could go to the hospital. I shook my head and told her to close the door. I swallowed a handful of pills, trying to numb the pain that wracked my body. When I seemed a little better, Sarah opened the door to get me some food. Just then, Jason walked past. He glanced in, his brow furrowed at the sight of me wrapped in a thick blanket on a hot summer day, with drops of blood on the floor. Sarah slammed the door shut. "Mr. Holt, you see that?" she snapped. "Acting requires talent. People who can't act are just here to cause trouble." "A few slaps and she's this weak? Then I suggest Miss Lynn quit acting and find a few more sugar daddies." "You—" Jason turned and walked away. Sarah's anger still hadn't subsided. "Mr. Holt, don't forget, you and Clara still have an engagement." His footsteps paused. "She's that filthy. You think I'd marry her?" Crash. The cup in my hand fell to the floor, shattering. Hot water splashed onto my feet. Sarah turned, saw the blood trickling down my leg from a shard of glass, and cried out. "Are you okay, Clara?" As she helped me clean the wound, she continued to rage at the empty doorway. "You don't want to marry her? In the future, you won't even have the chance." The man, as if he'd just heard the funniest joke, was gone. 5 Throughout the shoot, Sarah was constantly on the verge of exploding. The promotional materials released to the public were all edited to show Mia out-acting me, making it look like I couldn't keep up. That I was unprofessional, constantly delaying the production. I was back on the trending hate list. "So annoying. If you can't act, just quit. Stop wasting everyone's time." "Exactly. I feel so bad for our Mia, having to act opposite someone so unprofessional. What bad luck." "I was at the set. Clara kept messing up her blocking. Mia had to slap her for the scene, but she kept flinching. They did over ten takes. Mia was so frustrated she was crying by the end." Sarah turned off her phone, pacing in frustration. "This is insane! They're twisting everything, completely reversing the truth!" I said nothing, just kept scrolling. Finally, I found a small, quiet voice of support. "Wait, really? I thought Clara's acting was great. I cried so much watching her as the blind girl in 'The Last Empress.'" Seeing that comment, my brow finally relaxed. There was no point in getting angry. I tugged on Sarah's arm. "How can you not be angry? This is clearly Mia's team, maliciously editing videos to leech off your popularity and build her up." I shook my head. "When the show airs, everyone will be able to judge for themselves. Don't worry about it." "You're wrong. Her team is powerful. I'm afraid they'll pull some other stunt." I fell silent. "Sarah, I just want to finish this film. It's the most important thing I want to accomplish in my life." Sarah quieted down. The film was about a master woodcarver, and our family had once been in that business. I wanted to fulfill my parents' last wish, to bring the traditional art of woodcarving to the big screen for more people to see. 6 As filming neared its end, my body grew thinner. Fortunately, this matched the plot, where my character runs herself ragged trying to get her woodcarving business off the ground. After the final major scene, the director patted my shoulder. "You've worked hard, Clara. You were brilliant." Being praised by the director made me happy. "Thank you, Director." I headed back to the dressing room to prepare for the next scene. Sarah was also relieved. "This film is finally wrapping up. I was so worried you wouldn't make it. Thank God." She clasped her hands together, looking up at the ceiling. Then, she picked up the jade good-luck charm from my dressing table. "No, I should be thanking your aunt. She must be watching over you from heaven." I smiled and took the jade charm, pressing it to my chest. It was a gift from my mother. Through all the hardest times, it had been my constant companion. But just as I stood up to change my shoes, a sudden force slammed into the dressing table. My jade charm was swept to the floor, shattering into pieces. I froze. Mia stared, wide-eyed. The dressing room fell silent. Everyone knew how much that jade charm meant to me. It was my lucky charm. And now, it was broken. Mia stammered, "I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to. My foot slipped." I didn't speak for a long time. Finally, I knelt and carefully gathered the broken pieces, wrapping them in a handkerchief. Sarah lunged at Mia, but the director came in just then, urging us to hurry. I stopped her. "Let's film first." 7 After the final moonlit scene, I sat on the stone steps, silently unwrapping the broken jade pieces. "Mia already wrapped and left. She sure ran off fast." I didn't say anything, just stared at the fractured characters for "peace" and "safety." Just then, my phone lit up. I numbly pulled it out. It was Jason, who hadn't contacted me in five years. A single, short message. "Don't cause her any trouble. How much? I'll pay for it." I stared at the words, a sharp pain twisting in my chest. Did he know what he was offering to pay for? Did he remember that this was the jade charm my mother, on her deathbed, had taken from her own neck and given to me, as I stood there with him by her side? "My dear, I have nothing left to give you. Wear this charm. It will keep you safe for a lifetime." The faded memories sharpened, becoming painfully clear. After my mother closed her eyes for the last time, I had clung to her cold body, sobbing uncontrollably. It was Jason who had held me from behind. "Don't cry, Clara. You still have me." I traced the two halves of the broken characters. As I did, a warm liquid dripped from my nose, staining them red. After five years, I didn't reply to his message. I just deleted his contact. 8 The next day, I learned that Mia had already posted on social media the night before, tagging me. "I'm so sorry, Clara. I really didn't mean to break it. I'll buy you an identical one. Please don't be mad at me, everyone. If you have to be mad, please be gentle." The post was followed by two bowing emojis. I had been in the hospital all night, fighting for my life. When I woke up, I was at the top of the hate list. Mia's comments section was full of people attacking me. My own account was flooded with trolls. "Mia already apologized and offered to pay. What more do you want?" "Why are you being silent? Do you want her to kneel and beg for your forgiveness?" "Live and let live." Mia's comments, on the other hand, were full of comfort. "Don't be scared, sweetie. It was an accident. It's not your fault." "Exactly. Everyone makes mistakes. It's no big deal." "Mia is the most sincere apologizer I've ever seen." "LOL, those two bowing emojis are so cute!" "Protect Mia! Don't let that washed-up model make a big deal out of nothing." "What's there to be afraid of? Our Mia is dating the heir to Holt Corporation. No one can bully her." "Haha, her sugar daddy is probably in his forties." "Not only is Mr. Holt handsome, he's worth billions. I heard he's already introduced Mia to his parents." I turned off my phone. I couldn't look anymore. I just stared blankly at the tube feeding blood into my body. Sarah tucked the blanket around me. "Aren't you going to respond?" She knew that if I didn't, the company wouldn't either. I would be subjected to the online abuse for a long time. I just shook my head. "Sarah, I'm so tired." 9 I was in the hospital for a week. My condition had worsened to the point where I had to stay. I was too weak to even get out of bed. My hair was falling out in clumps. After a week of intensive treatment, I was finally feeling a little better. I was getting ready to leave for a voice-over session when Sarah rushed in. "What's wrong?" I asked, putting on my jacket. She stared at me for a long moment. "Your past relationship with Jason has been exposed." My hand trembled as I buttoned my jacket. In the car on the way to the recording studio, I stared at the rampant speculation on social media, my face devoid of expression. It had all started with an anonymous blogger. "Explosive news: Five years ago, Jason Holt and Clara Lynn were engaged." The post created a storm. Jason had always been a mystery to the media. Even with Mia, there were only one or two photos of them together. His private life was a well-guarded secret. This revelation sent the internet into a frenzy. At first, people were skeptical. But then the blogger released photos of us from college. A photo of me at the Holt family mansion. A photo of me and Jason having dinner with his elders. The doubters fell silent. The conversation shifted. "What is going on?" "Didn't Clara become a model because she needed money? In these photos, she looks so… poised." Soon, my family background was unearthed. "Clara is the daughter of the bankrupted Lynn Corporation? Oh my god, after the bankruptcy, her father was killed by debt collectors, and her mother committed suicide and couldn't be saved." "I believe it. Clara being the daughter of the Lynn family and being engaged to the Holts makes perfect sense." My past was laid bare. My hands trembled uncontrollably. Then, just as quickly as they appeared, the posts vanished, as if someone had deliberately suppressed them. I guessed it was the Holt family. I thought that would be the end of it. But the hate comments on my own account continued. "Did you leak this yourself? For attention?" "Stop dreaming. Jason Holt is not for you. He belongs to Mia." "That's right. Jason only loves Mia." "Can you even compare yourself to Mia? You started as a trashy model, you've probably been passed around by everyone. Mia isn't like you. She's pure, a graduate of a prestigious overseas university." "Haha, no wonder. She used to have an endorsement deal with Holt Corp, but as soon as Jason took over, he canceled it. He must have been disgusted with her for a long time." 10 It was evening when I left the recording studio. Sarah was squatting nearby, furiously typing on her phone. "Sarah?" I called out. She looked up, quickly hiding her phone. "What's going on online now?" I asked. She shook her head. "Nothing. We're done for the day. Let's go." But as she turned, I snatched her phone and looked at the screen. I froze. The trolls had started attacking Sarah. Vicious, hateful comments about her parents, her children. I couldn't stay silent any longer. I logged into my own account. "An engagement can be broken at any time. I will never marry." When Sarah saw the post, she gently stroked my hair. Only she knew what "I will never marry" really meant. Faced with the overwhelming hate, she had suggested more than once that we release my medical records. But I had refused. It wouldn't do any good. With the public so firmly against me, even if I was dying, they would probably just accuse me of faking a terminal illness for sympathy. Perhaps only on the day I actually died would the slander finally, maybe, quiet down. 11 I never expected to get a call from Jason that night. The night was still. Neither of us spoke. I didn't know what he was doing. I looked at the moon outside the hospital window and broke the silence. "You should release a statement. The engagement is off. We have no relationship." His breathing on the other end of the line quickened. "Clara, are you sure about this? The Holt family's official channels haven't said anything. That means you still have a chance." "Once they do, there's no going back for us. Ever." I suddenly spoke. "Jason, do you want to marry me?" "If you did, I wouldn't have had to wait until now." I raised a hand to wipe a tear from the corner of my eye. "It was over for us a long time ago. We just never said goodbye." "This is the real goodbye. Goodbye to the us we were before we were twenty." I hung up. The silence in the room was chilling. 12 I never expected Mrs. Holt to summon me. When I left the recording studio, the Holt family's driver was waiting for me. I got in the car. It had been five years since I'd last seen the elegant and regal Mrs. Holt. She was as noble as ever. I no longer had the same cautious timidity I'd had back then. She poured me a cup of tea, a pleased smile on her face. Just as I was about to speak, the butler announced, "Madam, Miss Miller's shawl was left here last time." I looked at the pale pink shawl the butler was holding. "Put it away. She'll be here later for lunch with Jason." Mrs. Holt's words were directed at me, her eyes watching my reaction. I showed none. Just then, there was a sound from the staircase. A sharp, piercing gaze fell upon me. The pain in my body suddenly flared. I put down the velvet box I was holding. "I have something else to do. I should go now. I won't disturb you." As I stood to leave, the smell of blood filled my nostrils. I quickly covered my nose and hurried away. "Wait." "Is there something else?" I froze, my body stiff. The person from the stairs came down and picked up the box from the coffee table. "You're returning the ring?" "Yes. Things should be returned to their rightful owner." "Take it. I don't have a habit of taking back gifts." It was useless to him, of course. He would just buy a new one. But from my perspective, I had no right to keep it. "I can't accept it. If you don't want it back, throw it away." Footsteps approached from behind. I didn't dare linger. I ran. By the time I was in a taxi, my palm was slick with blood from my nose.
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