I am very rich. My dad says there is no problem in this world that money can't solve. If there is, it just means you don't have enough money. But my boyfriend, Arthur Vance, was an exception. When I drove my supercar to pick him up, he complained I was too flashy. When I suggested eating at a Michelin-starred restaurant, he said I didn't understand the hardships of everyday people. To "temper my character," he forced me to live like an ordinary student. For three years, I wore cheap clothes from street stalls, squeezed onto the subway with him, and ate at the cheapest cafeteria window on campus. But all I got in return was his endless nitpicking. This time, to celebrate him winning a scholarship, I secretly booked a slightly nicer restaurant. I didn't expect him to publicly reprimand me for "refusing to change my ways." When he threatened to break up with me again, trying to force me to apologize to his ridiculous ego, I was just tired. "Then let's break up!" ... Hearing my answer, Arthur's knife paused as he cut his steak, and then he let out a contemptuous laugh. "Chloe, are you serious?" He clearly didn't take my words seriously. After all, over the past three years, whenever we disagreed on anything related to money, it always ended with my compromise. I would cry and return a newly bought limited-edition bag, or swear I would never eat a meal that cost more than thirty dollars again, just to beg him to take back his cold threat of "breaking up." But this time, I was truly tired. A while ago, when the class president hinted that there was a spot for me on the need-based financial aid list and told me not to worry, I suddenly realized what a massive joke I had made of myself. The dignified eldest daughter of the Sterling Group had actually lowered herself to the dust for Arthur Vance. I looked up, met his eyes directly, and repeated: "Arthur Vance, I am serious. We are breaking up." A rare look of bewilderment flashed across Arthur's face. Realizing what I had said, his voice suddenly turned cold. "Just because I didn't let you waste money, and criticized you a bit, you're throwing a tantrum?" "Chloe, I took you on the subway and to street food stalls to cure you of your spoiled, entitled habits, to teach you to be grounded. Your attitude right now is extremely disappointing." In the past, hearing the word "disappointing" would have made me panic immediately. But now, I only found it laughable. "Yes, I'm very disappointing to you. Since that's the case, let's go our separate ways. You find a girlfriend who meets your standards, and everyone will be happy." I considered myself to be quite reasonable. Since our values didn't align, it was best to part amicably. The designer watches and sneakers I'd given him over the years added up to at least a few hundred thousand dollars, but I wasn't planning to haggle over it. Arthur, however, turned red with anger and stood up abruptly. "I always thought you were just a bit spoiled, but I didn't expect you to be so stubborn, actually using a breakup to threaten me now." "I was doing this for your own good. Yes, your family has money, but did you earn a single penny of it? I was trying to teach you not to squander your parents' hard-earned money. If you had even a tenth of Emily's frugality and simplicity, I wouldn't have to constantly remind you." I couldn't help but roll my eyes. He brought up breaking up, and I simply agreed, yet somehow I was the one threatening him. I shot him a cold look: "Since you think Emily is so simple and frugal, then go pursue her. Why should we make things difficult for each other?" Emily Chen was Arthur's junior in his major. Ever since she enrolled, Arthur constantly compared me to her. Even taking me to eat at street stalls and squeezing onto the subway during rush hour were Emily's suggestions, claiming it was to "help the senior rid herself of her arrogant and extravagant aura." I never wanted to go in the first place. At the mention of Emily, Arthur bristled like a cat whose tail had been stepped on. He aggressively grabbed his backpack, the chair scraping harshly against the floor, drawing side-glances from several nearby tables. "Chloe, you are simply unreasonable!" "Reflect on yourself for this meal today. Don't come looking for me until you've written a five-thousand-word self-reflection and realized your own vanity." With that, he strode away without looking back. This was the first time I had ever seen Arthur this angry. He was the school's famous, aloof "Academic God," and I was the stereotypical "dumb blonde" with a rich family. I had only gotten into the school because my dad donated a building. When I first stepped onto campus, my head was full of sweet romance, and I fell for Arthur at first sight in the crowd. Even though we were dating, he nitpicked everything about me. I felt very wronged. It wasn't my fault my family had money; being born wealthy was a gift from my parents. Yet he treated it as an original sin, constantly belittling and suppressing me. For the past three years, I walked on eggshells every time I saw him, terrified of accidentally showing my wealth and displeasing him. I used to think his lofty disdain for money was a rare and precious quality in this world. Only now did I see clearly that it was just arrogance born of extreme inferiority. He gained a psychological sense of superiority by suppressing my lifestyle. I had had enough of this kind of life. I unlocked my phone and sent a message to my dad. "Dad, I agree to your previous proposal." I had fought with my dad plenty of times over these three years because of Arthur. A while ago, my dad cautiously asked if I wanted to meet the young man from the Sinclair family who had just returned from abroad. If I didn't want to, he would decline for me. At that time, I shouted about "freedom of love." Thinking back, I was adorably stupid. Instead of lowering my worth and being despised in every way, it's better to find someone of equal social standing. At least our values would align, and we wouldn't have to fight to the death over a fifty-dollar dinner bill. My dad's efficiency was terrifyingly high. Early the next morning, I received a detailed profile of Julian Sinclair, along with an invitation to a charity gala. Following that, my mobile banking app popped up with a deposit notification. A string of zeros so long I couldn't even count them. My dad's message was simple and crude: Buy whatever you want. Having unloaded the mental baggage named "Arthur Vance," the first thing I did was call the housekeeper. I pointed to the pilling hoodies and the ten-dollar jeans bought on group-deal apps in my closet—all the so-called "high-cost-performance, good-value items" Arthur had forced me to buy over the past three years to "temper my character." "Mary, throw it all away." For three years, Arthur had subjected me to a comprehensive "poverty transformation." If I wore something slightly expensive, he called me "materialistic"; if I wore makeup, he called me "vulgar"; even when I took an Uber to school, he would frown and painfully accuse me of being "spoiled." Afraid of making him angry, I constantly sought to please him, forcibly turning myself from the "Eldest Daughter of the Sterling family" into an "impoverished student." But now, this lady is no longer playing along. I changed into a limited-edition, current-season Chanel suit and put on the sapphire necklace that had gathered dust in my jewelry box for three years. Looking at the radiant version of myself in the mirror, I smiled in satisfaction. After three years, the pink supercar that had been collecting dust in my garage finally saw the light of day again. The roar of the engine exploded at the school gates, instantly attracting countless stares. Unfortunately, the coolness didn't last even three seconds. "Chloe Sterling!" It was Arthur! My heart skipped a beat, and I instinctively wanted to run. In the past, whenever I showed my wealth, Arthur would punish me by making me write a several-thousand-word self-reflection, or even give me the silent treatment for days. But on second thought, we were already broken up. Why should I be afraid of him? In the moment I froze, Arthur had already strode over. Behind him was Emily, panting heavily while carrying a tall stack of books. His gaze swept over my dazzling sports car and my outfit, looking at me as if I were some bloodsucking vampire from the exploiting class. "Are you crazy? Dressing like this and driving this kind of car to school?" "Everyone else is walking or biking to school. You driving this thing around is just trying to let everyone know you have a few filthy bucks? Your behavior will corrupt the school's atmosphere!" I almost laughed out of anger. Just as I was about to retort, I caught sight of Emily behind him out of the corner of my eye. "I didn't steal or rob, what am I afraid of?" I raised my eyebrows and looked at them meaningfully. "The school rules don't say dating isn't allowed, nor do they say driving to school isn't allowed, right?" Hearing this, Arthur's face darkened even more: "What nonsense are you talking about!!" Emily also peeked out timidly from behind her stack of books: "Senior Chloe, you misunderstood. Arthur was just helping me because I was too tired carrying these books... I didn't expect you to think that way." "Have you caused enough trouble?" Arthur suddenly reached out and grabbed my wrist, his grip so tight it felt like he was going to crush my bones. "Since you're here, help Emily carry these books to the office. It'll cure you of your laziness!" A sudden sharp pain shot through my wrist. I struggled desperately: "I'm not going! Arthur Vance, let go! We're already broken up, why should I listen to you!" "Chloe, this is an order! As the President of the Student Council, I have the right to discipline this kind of toxic behavior from you!" Arthur didn't back down because of my resistance; instead, he put on an official, authoritative stance, reaching out to forcefully shove that heavy stack of books into my arms. I shook his hand off, rubbing my reddened wrist, and let out an unceremonious, cold laugh. "Student Council President? Arthur, do you really think you got to be Student Council President on your own merits?" "If my dad hadn't pulled strings with the administration and donated five million dollars, do you think with your abilities back then you had any right to defeat a bunch of more qualified candidates and take this position?" Arthur's face instantly went deathly pale, as if he had been publicly slapped. His lips trembled, but before he could retort, Emily suddenly rushed forward like a madwoman. "Shut up! You're not allowed to slander Arthur like that!" Before I could react, she shoved me hard. I was completely caught off guard. In my thin stilettos, I couldn't keep my balance. My center of gravity shifted, and I fell heavily onto the concrete floor. "Hiss—" A burning, stinging pain instantly radiated from my palm. I looked down; a large patch of skin had been scraped off the palm of my hand by the rough ground. Beads of blood mixed with gravel were eagerly oozing out, hurting to the bone. The sapphire necklace fell to the ground and was crushed under Emily's foot. Before I even had a chance to get up, she had already preemptively opened her mouth. Looking down at me from above, a flash of imperceptible satisfaction crossed her eyes, yet her mouth cried out in a whining tone. "Senior Chloe, how could you do this? You're the one who had a change of heart, yet you publicly ruin Arthur's reputation!" She pointed at the pink sports car behind me and my designer clothes, her voice piercingly sharp, as if she were judging me in the name of justice. "Everyone, be the judge! Chloe used to not even be able to afford the basic meat-and-veggie combo at the cafeteria. How could she suddenly afford a million-dollar sports car overnight?" "Don't you know where this money came from? Must you force everyone to say it out loud?" "Arthur just didn't want to see you degenerate. He painstakingly advised you to turn back before it's too late. Not only are you ungrateful, but you also bite the hand that feeds you just for a moment of vanity!" This statement contained an overwhelming amount of information. The crowd of onlookers, initially just watching the drama, instantly exploded in an uproar. Those probing gazes instantly turned into disdain, and the whispering buzzed into my ears like flies. "Oh my god, so she's a sugar baby..." "I knew it. How could someone who usually wears street clothes suddenly become rich? So she took that path." "So shameless. And she has the nerve to show off at the school gates. If I were her parents, I'd die of anger." The direction of public opinion was instantly skewed, and everyone believed Emily's nonsense. I trembled with anger, my fingernails digging deeply into my flesh, but I couldn't feel the pain. I could only stare dead at Arthur. He was the only person in the entire place who knew my true identity. Even if we broke up, even if he hated me, as long as he told the truth, this ridiculous rumor would collapse on its own. "Arthur, say something!" I gritted my teeth, questioning him with red eyes: "Tell them whether my money is clean or not! Did I become like this out of vanity?!" Arthur looked at me sitting pathetically on the ground, a complex struggle flashing through his eyes. But he looked at the surrounding students, and then at Emily, who had stepped forward "to defend him." Ultimately, the shame of being exposed as someone who relied on a woman overpowered his conscience. He supported the "tottering" Emily and sighed with an expression of deep heartache, as if he were utterly disappointed in me. "Chloe, although Emily's words are harsh, they aren't wrong. Vanity is the most terrifying poison in the world." "Although we have broken up, I really don't want to see you sell your soul and body for material things, making yourself so dirty." "Listen to my advice. Return the car, cut ties with that person. It's still not too late to turn back now." At that moment, I simply couldn't believe what I was hearing. To protect his pathetic ego, he actually tacitly agreed to this despicable accusation, and even hypocritically pinned the label of "sugar baby" on me. With the "official seal of approval" from the Student Council President, the look in everyone's eyes completely changed. Disgust, disdain, loathing—as if looking at some nauseating piece of trash. "Hurry up and take a picture to post on the confession wall to warn others! This kind of gold digger is a disgrace to our school!" Someone shouted, and several phones were shoved in my face, the camera flashes blinding me. Some even started a live stream right there, broadcasting wildly to the camera. "Hey guys, look at this! This is the 'luxury car girl' who became a sugar baby for an old man for money. She got exposed on the spot by her ex-boyfriend and even tried to hit people!" "People like this should be expelled! So disgusting!" Sitting on the ground, hearing words like "degenerate," "gold digger," and "escort" thrown at me like stones, I only felt it was utterly absurd. Some people even rushed forward trying to get physical with me. "What are you all doing! Gathering and causing trouble, what does this look like!" A booming, angry roar pierced through the crowd. The spectating students seemed to hit the pause button, automatically clearing a path. The Dean of Students, his face dark, strode in with his hands behind his back. Seeing me sitting pathetically on the ground, and that glaring pink sports car, his brows instantly knotted tightly. "What's going on? Who brought this kind of societal toxicity onto campus?" Before I could open my mouth, Emily, like a frightened little bunny, spoke up first with red eyes. "Dean, you're finally here. Senior Chloe... she's bringing so much shame to our school." As she spoke, she vaguely pointed out my sports car to the Dean. "Senior Chloe, out of greed for pleasure, not only is she being kept by an older man outside of school, but she also brazenly drove this dirty car onto campus to show off." "Arthur kindly advised her to turn back, but she not only refused to listen but also tried to hit him, and even falsely accused him of getting his position through connections." This bucket of dirty water was poured flawlessly. It not only solidified my crime of "being a sugar baby" but also kept her and Arthur completely clean. The Dean's face instantly turned as black as the bottom of a pot, his disgusted gaze scraping over my body like a knife. "A sugar baby? Simply corrupting public morals!"
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