After going broke, I found a cash-giveaway livestream while job hunting for a trip home. A girl in a silk robe lounged before a villa, complaining about her sugar daddy’s excessive gifts. “Help me spend it,” she said. “My sugar daddy says my tear mole looks just like his girlfriend’s. How unlucky to share a mole with a pauper.” My hand shook—I have the same tear mole. When commenters asked how his girlfriend could be poor, she smirked, reapplying makeup: “He tricked her into thinking he’s millions in debt. She’s working multiple jobs to pay it off.” My heart sank—my boyfriend also claims massive debt. “The best part,” she added, “after three days together, he said if he told her he’d been hauling steel, that fool would deliver food all night out of pity.” Another red envelope completed our ticket money. My phone rang—Elias, sounding weary: “Halley, we’re short on train fare… I made a few hundred hauling steel. I’ll be home soon.” 1 It was one in the morning, and I nearly dropped my phone. The “sugar daddy” the livestream was talking about… was Elias? Sensing my lack of response, Elias’s tone sharpened slightly. “Why aren’t you saying anything? Are you not feeling well?” My throat felt dry. “Which construction site, that kept you busy so late?” “Just… near the old district.” His words sped up. “I’ll be home soon, I’ll transfer the money to you first.” The call ended, the livestream continued. “My sugar daddy just transferred me another million, asking me to buy the latest lingerie.” “This man has no concept of money. This set of lingerie is twenty thousand at most… Ugh, so annoying, another eight hundred thousand. It’s all for you guys.” Huge red envelopes kept appearing, one after another. I felt numb, clicking on each one. My balance went from five hundred to twenty-five hundred, then three thousand, then four thousand. After I started dating Elias, all our salaries and side job earnings were saved by me. Every time I saved two thousand, I’d tell him to pay off his debts, only keeping enough for food and rent. Four thousand in spare cash was a number I couldn’t even dream of. My phone vibrated. Elias transferred me $212, with a note saying “work money.” My hand trembled, and I pressed the screen off. The screen immediately reflected my pale face. The light brown mole under my right eye stood out like a bloodstain on a white wall. Half an hour later, Elias returned. He was wearing the same gray work clothes from three days ago, his pant legs splattered with mud. He pulled a bag from his jacket. “Halley, I saved $8 and bought you a roasted sweet potato. Eat it while it’s hot.” I took it silently, the warm touch radiating through the bag into my palm. Ever since we started dating, he’d find ways to earn extra money in winter to buy me my favorite roasted sweet potatoes. I felt bad about the money, and bad for him, so we’d share the sweet potato while discussing where to find better part-time jobs or cheaper groceries. Roasted sweet potatoes were the most comforting food in our difficult life. But today, I took a bite and felt it lodge in my throat, impossible to swallow. Was it Elias? Was it a coincidence? It couldn’t be him. “I wanted to buy it for you when I got back from my business trip yesterday, but a friend said they needed steel haulers at the construction site, so I rushed over to work.” “They paid me tonight, and I ran through several streets looking for a place. Luckily, the night market was closing late, and your favorite stall was still open.” Elias's story was plausible, even explaining why he hadn't been home for three days. He leaned in, smiling, asking me to feed him. But I didn't move. I just asked him: “Is the construction site far? Next time, I’ll go with you.” His smile vanished. He turned and headed to the bathroom. “It’s dirty and messy, and there are a lot of men. I wouldn't feel comfortable with you there. I'm going to take a shower now, I'm covered in dust.” A shower. Before the streamer ended her broadcast, her last words were: “We agreed to video chat when he showers. I’ll share my sugar daddy’s abs with you guys later!” Less than five minutes later, she updated. Water droplets clung to a man’s impressive abs; his face wasn’t shown, but the tiles behind him were exactly like our bathroom’s, and the storage basket held the cheap shampoo and soap I’d bought. It was Elias. At this very moment, in our small rented apartment, he was showering and video calling his kept woman. The sound of running water never stopped. I closed my eyes, desperately trying to tell myself not to panic, to calmly analyze the situation. But the facts were laid bare; no analysis was needed. Opening my eyes again, I saw the streamer, Anya, replied to a popular comment: “A kept woman flaunting her relationship, but he has a girlfriend. No matter what you say, you’re still the mistress.” She replied: “My sugar daddy keeps the pauper as a pet, just for fun. She has a title, but he loves me. Believe it or not, one message from me, and he’ll instantly leave his girlfriend’s house to come to me?” The next second, the bathroom door opened. Elias, in his loungewear, rushed out. “Halley, something urgent came up at the company, I need to go.” My nerves instantly tensed. I grabbed his hand sharply. “Elias, can I go with you?” 2 His back stiffened, then he gently pushed my hand away. “No, it's really cold outside.” I refused to give up and grabbed him again, staring at the red mark on his collarbone, asking with a trembling voice: “What’s this?” He looked down, his eye twitching violently. “Must have rubbed against the steel bars, I guess. I have to go now, get some rest.” I felt all my strength drain away. In the livestream, a comment asked if the streamer’s diamond necklace was a gift from her sugar daddy. She giggled coquettishly, very proud. “No, it wasn’t. Some big bad wolf got too excited and snapped my old necklace, so he replaced it.” “But I didn’t let him off the hook either. I gave him a hickey right here, used all my strength, too.” She pointed to her collarbone. Elias left. Leaving me standing in the entryway, rubbing my fingertips hard, as if trying to wear away a layer of skin. After all this time, I was only just realizing it. His fingers were long and slender, with distinct knuckles, and not a single callus. How could they be the hands of someone who constantly hauled steel? At 3 AM, Anya updated. “See? I told you my sugar daddy loves me!” In the photo, she was nestled intimately in the man’s arms, her cheeks flushed. The man’s head was covered by an emoji, but the loungewear was mine, and I had seen him wear it out. I bit my lip hard, zooming in on the photo, and saw Anya wearing an oversized men’s white shirt. The letters “SY” were embroidered on the chest of the shirt—a birthday gift I had painstakingly sewn for Elias, stitch by stitch, last year. He had cherished it, insisting he would only wear it on the day we got our marriage certificate. Instead, he gave it to someone else. That night, I stayed awake until dawn, then went to work like a zombie. After work, I dutifully went to my bubble tea job. When I got home at 11 PM, Elias was already back. Two bento boxes sat on the table. He had changed into loungewear. “The construction site had a few extra bento boxes. I begged the foreman for them. The others are in the fridge. This way, we can save two days’ worth of food money and still eat well.” I silently walked to the dining table, looking at the two greasy construction site bento boxes. But in my mind, Anya was flaunting the "ordinary lunch" that Elias had brought a French chef to the villa to cook for her that day. A bitter taste rose in my stomach. I went straight to my room. “I’m tired. You eat.” Soon after lying down, Elias embraced me from behind, his voice low. “Halley, I’m sorry. Because of my debts, you’ve suffered so much.” I mumbled a vague “Mmm.” He continued, “New Year’s Eve is the day after tomorrow. We don’t have enough for two train tickets. You go home. I’ll wait for you here.” I opened my eyes and clicked on the ticket booking app. “Yesterday, I went into a cash-giveaway livestream. I collected enough money, so we can go home together.” Through the phone’s glow, his brow furrowed, and a flicker of annoyance crossed his eyes. He hadn't expected me to gather the money. After all, I had given him all my savings for his debts early yesterday morning, so I should only have had the $212 he gave me last night from hauling steel. But the annoyance was fleeting. He hugged me tighter, burying his face in my neck. “That’s great, we can go home together again. Halley, thank you.” He still wasn't telling the truth. I pressed the lock screen, and the bedroom plunged into darkness. His fingers found my tear mole, gently caressing it. Like stroking a pet. 3 The day before New Year’s Eve, I took a day off, but I didn’t tell him. Anya posted that she was complaining about being bored cooped up in the villa, so her sugar daddy, to appease her, was taking her shopping. When I arrived at the mall, a Maybach just pulled up to the entrance. The chauffeur respectfully opened the back door, and Elias stepped out. He wasn’t wearing his faded gray work clothes, but a well-tailored cashmere coat over a suit. I never would have imagined that my impoverished boyfriend, who had grumbled about going to haul steel at a construction site this morning, was actually Elias Healy, the only son of the famous Healy family, a real estate mogul in Beijing's elite circle. While I was still in a daze, he personally opened the other car door, and Anya practically flung herself into his arms. “You’re taking me shopping? Aren’t you afraid your girlfriend will see?” Elias leaned down and bit her luscious red lips in public. I stood behind a nearby tree, watching my boyfriend passionately kiss another woman, unable to separate. After a long moment, he finally let go, but couldn’t resist pecking her lips twice more. “What’s there to be afraid of? She has to work today; I personally watched her get on the bus.” “But what if she saw you?” “If she saw me…” Elias narrowed his eyes slightly, dismissively. “Worst case, I’d just give her back the little money she earned.” Anya laughed flamboyantly, hugging him as they both entered the mall. I should have followed them in. I should have grabbed his clothes, demanded to know why he deceived me, why he betrayed me. But in just two days, my heart had become numb. My legs simply wouldn’t move. I just stood far away, watching Anya post updates one after another. “This French restaurant is just okay, can’t compare to the French chef my sugar daddy hired for me.” “My sugar daddy took me for a beauty treatment! He said he wants me to look pretty for the New Year. He just transferred me another million. I’ll be live at 10 PM sharp, giving away cash to you all!” Someone in the comments asked her: “So high-profile, aren’t you afraid of the sugar daddy’s girlfriend catching you?” “I’d rather she came and caught us. My sugar daddy said if she found out, he’d just give her back the little money she earned over the years. Such a loser, only earned six hundred fifty thousand and three thousand in five years.” Six hundred fifty thousand. So that’s how much I’d earned these past five years. I found it laughable, but when I tried to pull a smile, none came. Two hours later, Anya posted her day’s earnings: “Girls, my daily wage is one point two million!” I don’t know how I got back. By the time I regained my senses, I was sitting on the sofa. Elias had just walked in, having changed back into his gray work clothes, his hair disheveled. “Halley, haven’t you had dinner yet?” He rolled up his sleeves. “I’ll go warm up the bento boxes in the fridge, it’ll be ready in no time.” His tone was as usual, still gentle, still considerate. During dinner, he even specifically gave me the bento with the fried chicken strips, eating the vegetarian one himself. I held my chopsticks, my heart full of unspoken words. I wanted to ask him why he lied to me, saying we were from the same hometown, poor kids from a small county in Suzhou, with millions in family debt. I’d been with him from freshman year through graduation, and then navigating the hustle of Beijing. I’d scrimped and saved, working one full-time job and three part-time jobs, giving him all the money I earned, just wanting him to pay off his debts sooner so we could get married without a care. But in reality, he was a second-generation rich kid from Beijing’s elite, casually spending millions, dating me openly while secretly keeping another woman in luxury. Did he ever truly love me all these years, or did he just keep me as a pet for amusement? Across from me, he took two bites and stopped, a barely concealed look of disdain in his eyes. I stared into his eyes and asked: “Elias, how much debt does your family still have?”
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