When I was thirty-two. I became a sugar mama to a broke college boy. One day, while walking down the street, I saw him carefully holding a girl in his arms. His eyes were red, looking aggrieved yet restrained: "Please don't think I'm dirty..." We had a very formal, transactional relationship. Why did he make it sound like I had defiled him? If he felt dirty, there were plenty of people who wouldn't. I exhaled a puff of smoke, turned to look at a blonde guy passing by in a fake Balenciaga shirt, and said: "Ask him if he's willing to call me 'Mommy'." 01 Cole was brought to my office that afternoon. The sunlight streamed through the floor-to-ceiling windows on the thirty-second floor, landing on his Balenciaga T-shirt, Yohji Yamamoto pants, and Louis Vuitton sneakers. Fake. Fake. And fake. But you had to admit, he had a gorgeous face. Unlike Ethan, who had a cold, aloof, and rather proud demeanor. Cole looked like a product of modern technology, a plastic surgery template. Exquisite, cheap, and a bit vulgar. But I had eaten too much fine dining lately; today, I wanted some junk food. Since they were all selling themselves anyway, why should I find someone who did it unwillingly? As soon as he opened his mouth, I knew I had found the right guy. "I heard you want to be my mom?" "Should I call you that right now?" This guy was way too eager. But I wasn't into that kind of roleplay. It felt like today he'd want me to launch his career. Tomorrow, he'd ask me to get him a lead role in a movie. The day after, when his sugar baby status got leaked, he'd be begging me to suppress the scandal. It was too cliché. Way too cliché. I ignored him and flipped through the file my secretary, Mr. Davis, had handed me. He came from a small town in the middle of nowhere. His family wasn't poor; his situation was much better than Ethan's, whose dad was a severe alcoholic and mom a gambling addict. His grades were average, much worse than Ethan's. But he was actually two inches taller than Ethan. I looked up at him; he smiled, showing all eight teeth. He was handsome, sure, but a bit too fawning. I curled my lip, feeling a slight sense of disdain. "How many have you been with? Men or women?" Cole's expression remained natural, showing no shame at being offended. "Just you!" Bullshit. I said, "Go downstairs later and Mr. Davis will take you to the hospital for a full-body checkup. If everything is fine, come see me in a week." "Yes, ma'am." He left, looking thrilled. As he turned around, I caught sight of his perky rear end. I pondered for two seconds whether he was wearing padded underwear. 02 A week later. Cole hadn't shown up yet, but I ran into Ethan instead. He was wearing a faded dress shirt, washed-out jeans, and a pair of Converse. Fresh and handsome, the quintessential poor but brilliant campus crush. He stepped off the bus; he wouldn't even splurge on an Uber. I really had no idea what he spent the $30,000 I gave him every month on. Don't misunderstand. He didn't come looking for me; I was usually the one who went to him. He was working part-time at the coffee shop downstairs from my office. Looking like that, he naturally attracted young girls asking for his number again. Ethan politely refused, saying he already had someone he liked. In the past, I would have confidently assumed he meant me. After all, I was beautiful, rich, and generous. The key was that last part. What was the difference between not liking me and not liking money? It wasn't like I needed him to be madly in love with me. We were all adults here. Taking so much from me but not offering a shred of affection seemed a bit hypocritical. I walked in and casually found a seat. Ethan didn't notice me. Just then, a meticulously dressed girl walked in. Ethan spotted her immediately, and at the same time, froze in nervousness. The girl was wearing a tweed Chanel suit and a Miu Miu hair clip, exuding a wealthy heiress vibe. I hadn't looked closely at her the last time we were on campus. This time, I got a clear look at her face. I ran through the socialites of New York high society in my head, but couldn't place which family she belonged to. While my mind wandered, Ethan's face had turned completely red. I heard him cautiously ask: "Are you here to see me?" The girl raised her chin and said: "No, I just heard the coffee here is good." If Ethan had a tail, it would be drooping right now. "Can you recommend some coffee?" Ethan immediately and diligently went through all the coffees on the menu. He explained everything in painstaking detail, describing the origins and tasting notes of every single bean. The people waiting in line behind her got impatient and left. The girl, however, seemed to have tuned him out and casually ordered the house special. Ethan thoughtfully explained how to drink it, warning her that it might be a bit bitter. He was completely different from how he acted in front of me—he was acting as humble and subservient as possible. I didn't feel angry. Just confused. Why didn't he act like this in front of me? I was his client, after all. A moment later, it dawned on me, and I chuckled softly. He seemed to think— That his youth, traded for my $30,000 a month, a gifted condo, and countless presents, was a fair exchange of equal value. The men in my family had a tradition of keeping mistresses. I had seen female college students, actresses, and even some professionals. A few days ago, my uncle almost got a girl pregnant and had to pay a three million dollar severance fee. A sugar mama as generous and not-hard-to-look-at as me was incredibly hard to find. Consent didn't mean he wasn't getting the better end of the deal. Before, when I spoiled Ethan, I didn't care about this pocket change. He took my money but stood me up several times. He'd use excuses like tutoring, working part-time, or having student council work or lab duties. I never got mad; I even had my housekeeper make soup and deliver it to him. Once, my dad caught me and, thinking I was actually dating, gave me a warning: "Don't get in too deep." My indulgence toward Ethan made everyone think my feelings for him were quite extraordinary. It's funny to say. It's not that I hadn't had moments where I thought that myself. Before I kicked my brother out of the country and sat in the CEO's chair, I had never been in a relationship. Of course, I hadn't wanted to be in one, either. Watching this unfold, I felt a bit bored, so I got up and left the coffee shop. As I was leaving, the bell on the door jingled. The person standing behind the counter seemed to look over. 03 That evening. Cole arrived at my villa. To my surprise. His physical exam report showed he was clean and perfectly healthy; not even a minor nodule. Unlike his previous outfit, which was covered in fake, massive logos, he dressed very simply this time. A white T-shirt, jeans, and sneakers. His previously heavily-gelled hair now hung loosely, slightly covering his eyes. Mr. Davis must have given him instructions to dress like Ethan. I frowned, but before I could say anything, the person in front of me pulled off his T-shirt. An eight-pack of abs, firm and defined. I couldn't tell if they were real or not. He let out two goofy laughs: "Ma'am, do you not like me dressing like this?" "I don't like it either." Saying that, he walked over familiarly and touched my hand. I didn't react in time. I instantly felt like I had been taken advantage of by a cheap street punk. Until he took the hair tie from my wrist. He gathered his somewhat long hair and tied it into a small bun at the back of his head. I breathed a sigh of relief. Then I heard him say: "Ma'am, are you hungry? I can make you some noodles." I almost choked on my sigh of relief. He watched the housekeeper come out of the kitchen, grab a trash bag, and leave, saying with a hint of regret, "Looks like you already ate." I understood the implication, hesitated for a moment, and asked him: "Have you not eaten? Do you want some..." Before I could finish, he said, "Thank you." He even found an excuse for himself: "I need to eat enough so I have the energy to serve you later, ma'am." Me: "..." Then he made himself three bowls of noodles and inhaled them like he was starving. I recalled the information in his file; he shouldn't be so poor he couldn't afford to eat. I said: "There's still steak in the fridge." Cole shook his head and said: "No need for steak. I have to work first before I can get paid." I understood. For a moment, I actually felt a bit gratified, once again confirming my decision. I really should find someone like this whose sole focus is securing his meal ticket. Half an hour later. I regretted it. The clean scent of body wash enveloped me. The initial trace of unfamiliarity was replaced by intense heat, quickly making me unable to think about anything else. Cole didn't forget to provide emotional value. "Ma'am, you're so beautiful. I really hit the jackpot." "Ma'am, this feels amazing." I felt like I was degrading myself. Like I had hired a farmhand in a rural village. This feeling lasted until noon the next day. I asked in despair, "Did you take something?" "What?" Cole froze for a moment. "Yeah, I took ten pills, just to make sure you were satisfied, ma'am." Bullshit. He didn't take anything. He was just trying to show off his "service attitude," trying to fool me! Finally. At two in the afternoon, I dragged myself up, clutching my lower back. I had a meeting I couldn't miss, so I had to crawl to the office if I had to. While I was getting dressed, I heard Cole say: "Ma'am, can you get me into the entertainment industry?"

04 My hand, pausing on a button, stopped for a moment, then I expertly rolled my eyes. "You've only been here once, and you're already making demands..." "Ten times," he corrected me. "...I wasn't talking about that." After being rejected by me, Cole's beautiful, Ragdoll-cat-like face instantly wilted. He scrunched up his nose and complained, "Ma'am, you were the one who said it was fine." This level of understanding... I was truly speechless. If I hadn't met him at a university, I would have doubted he'd ever read a book. Right. That doesn't mean he was actually studying there. I asked Cole, "Are you a student at NYU?" Cole honestly shook his head: "No." I knew it! I casually made an empty promise: "In a couple of years, I'll send you abroad to get a shiny degree." Cole hesitated, wanting to say something but stopping himself. "Ma'am, I don't want to study." I know, I know, you just want to get into showbiz. I waved my hand, signaling him to stop talking, and told him I had a meeting to get to. I sat in the car where Mr. Davis had been waiting for me. I turned my head to look. Cole was leaning over the balcony, waving goodbye to me. A head of messy hair, a face that was both innocent and seductive. The sunlight fell on his face, making him look like Cupid from Greek mythology. Also not wearing pants. Impressive. "Ma'am, come back early." I massaged my temples with a wry smile. I absolutely cannot let anyone know I was keeping a guy like this. While looking over documents, I said: "Mr. Davis, find some limited-edition spring collection clothes and send them to him." He wasn't suited to dress like Ethan, looking all clean and preppy like a little white poplar tree. Him wearing those fake designer clothes all day was just embarrassing me. Mr. Davis paused for a moment, then said okay. After the meeting. After dealing with a bunch of old fogeys. I was exhausted, slumping into my office chair. It didn't used to be this exhausting, but today was exceptionally tiring. Probably because I didn't get any sleep last night. The Vance family was like most wealthy, elite families. My father and mother had an arranged marriage, and they each lived their own lives. They actually had a pretty good relationship. Otherwise, they wouldn't have had the three of us kids. My idiot older brother, my hopelessly romantic younger sister, and perfect me. From birth, my life was mapped out for me. If I wanted more, I had to fight for it myself. I fought for it and won. But was this truly what I wanted... "Ma'am." My butt felt a sudden chill. Before my existential reflections could finish, I saw a head pop up from under the desk. "...What are you doing?" Cole kissed my thigh. I looked at him expressionlessly. Cole's impossibly perfect, model-like face did something unprecedented—it blushed. He was a bit shy, but his words were astonishing. "I just read online this afternoon that CEOs and their secretaries like to play this game." What a self-aware little boy toy. Cole assumed I agreed. The white clouds outside the window drifted by, rendering me speechless for a moment. Who exactly is the sugar daddy here, him or me? He really wants to get into showbiz. Three hours later. Mr. Davis called on the intercom. "Ms. Vance, Mr. Miller is here." 05 The sun really must be rising in the west. Today wasn't our agreed-upon once-a-week meeting day. It wasn't strange that he came looking for me. What was strange was that he frequently stood me up, and it was already past 11 PM. I lit a cigarette and told the person on the phone, "I don't have time to see him today. Tell him to go back." Mr. Davis was silent for a moment, then said, "That's what I told Mr. Miller, but he insisted on waiting for you to finish your work so he could see you." "He's in the conference room right next to your office right now." I frowned, just about to say something, when a small face leaned in and took a drag from the cigarette between my fingers. Then, he choked. He coughed violently. I hung up the phone. "Ma'am, you shouldn't smoke cigarettes." Just when I thought Cole had suddenly changed his strategy and was going to act like a caring, attentive companion, I heard him say: "You should smoke cigars; it looks cooler." I flicked the ash, letting it fall onto the expensive marble floor tiles. I said, "You should head back first. I have some things to handle." Cole didn't ask questions; he just dusted himself off and left. Ethan was brought in. He was still wearing that white dress shirt and jeans. I was getting a bit bored of looking at it. He stood in front of me, his tone accusatory: "Nora, I was fired." He seemed to think I was the one who told the manager to fire him. After all, that coffee shop belonged to me. He had been doing a work-study program there, making $5,000 a month as an intern. I raised an eyebrow: "And so?" Ethan's face looked a bit strained. He remained standing ramrod straight, his hands clenched into fists at his sides, his tone growing aggressive. "Did someone at the shop say something to you?" "Maya is just my junior colleague. I was only doing what an employee should do. You can't just fire me on a whim!" "You rich people are always so high and mighty—" I interrupted him: "Then I'll tell the coffee shop to rehire you." Ethan's words stopped abruptly. He didn't expect me to be so agreeable. "T-That's good then..." I smiled and continued, "Just like the other interns, your salary will be $3,000 a month. Are you okay with that?" Ethan stared at me wide-eyed, looking as if he had been insulted. He was silent for a few seconds. "Nora, stop messing around." "I told you, Maya and I are not dating!" A hint of impatience appeared in his eyes. I looked him up and down, suddenly feeling he looked a bit rough and lackluster. His skin wasn't as smooth as Cole's, his eyes weren't as bright, his lips weren't as pink, his nose wasn't as high, his legs weren't as long, and his abs weren't as hard... and his technique was also very poor. Not that Cole was much better in that department. But at least Cole was willing to learn. "Maya?" That name sounded quite cute. I casually repeated the name, not expecting Ethan to react like he was facing a deadly enemy. "If you have a problem, take it out on me! She doesn't know anything!" I suddenly found this very amusing. I asked deliberately: "What do you think I would do to her?" Suddenly, Ethan's gaze fixed on a specific spot. His expression instantly went blank, his eyes vacant, completely ignoring my question. I followed his gaze— On the polyform sofa. A pair of Calvin Klein underwear lay there sneakily, having quietly listened to my entire conversation with Ethan. 06 As everyone knows, when people are utterly speechless, they laugh. Ethan finally turned his head to look at me. Then, he saw the smile on my face. The person who had just been keeping his distance from me, as if trying to avoid suspicion, suddenly stepped right up to me. "Nora, are you that thirsty?" "Just because I didn't come see you for a month, you go looking for that kind of man?" I wanted to say that Cole wasn't "that kind of man." But I couldn't get the words out. He was exactly that kind of man. The poor, proud campus crush, who feared no power or authority, actually suddenly got red eyes. "Do you know how dirty that kind of man is!" Ethan's voice was very loud. He reached out to grab my wrist, losing his composure for the first time. It seemed he was genuinely afraid I might have caught some filthy disease. The glass cup on the table was knocked to the floor and shattered. There was a knock on the door outside, and Mr. Davis asked, "Ms. Vance, do you need me to come in?" Ethan was still rambling on. "Nora, you don't have to demean yourself like this just to make me jealous..." I raised my voice: "Come in." Mr. Davis walked in with two 6-foot-3 bodyguards. The bodyguards immediately separated Ethan from me. They stood on either side of Ethan, ready to stop him if he suddenly tried to attack and hurt me. Ethan looked at me in disbelief. I looked at Ethan with a half-smile. "Who gave you permission to use that attitude with me?" As a sugar mama, I had been way too lenient. I had let him get confused about the nature of our relationship. Ethan's face suddenly went pale. He probably never expected me to speak to him like this. He pursed his lips and said: "We are equals..." I didn't even want to listen to that kind of talk. "So equal, then why haven't I seen you give me $30,000 a month?" Ethan was left speechless. I raised an eyebrow: "You took the money, so do your job properly. You failed." He had probably never heard me speak to him so bluntly before, and stared wide-eyed in shock. I couldn't be bothered to deal with him, stood up, and left. Ethan tried to follow, but was stopped by the bodyguards. I walked very quickly. Behind me, Mr. Davis took back the keycard for my private elevator from Ethan, adding: "Mr. Miller, next time you come to see Ms. Vance, please make an appointment." 07 I didn't buy Cole a house. Because he refused to leave my villa. Two months later. I lay there like a dead dog. Cole lit a cigar for me. I said: "I'll get you into the entertainment industry." But Cole, contrary to his usual behavior, wasn't thrilled. He kissed my lips, and I instinctively flinched. "Thank you, ma'am." "But, there's no rush, right? I want to spend a few more days with you." I was in a rush. I was about to ascend to heaven. Just two months ago, he was so eager to go. That day, I gave him a card with a regular deposit of $30,000. I didn't expect Cole to refuse. "Ma'am, I don't want your money. I want you to send me to act." Good boy. He even understands the "teach a man to fish" philosophy. He's really lucky he hooked up with me. The entertainment industry is deep water. Tech billionaires, nouveau riche, real estate tycoons... none of them are as effective. But the Vance family had been in this sector for a long time. The management agency we owned was one of the big three in the entertainment industry. At the time, I replied to him: "Depends on your performance." I deeply regret that now. The cigar slipped from my unsteady hand and fell onto the carpet. When I reached down to pick it up, the blanket covering me slipped down. The next moment, a hand replaced the blanket, warming me. "Ma'am..." Cole's eyes darkened, and he leaned in to kiss me again. I stopped his movement. He pouted, looking at me in confusion. I let out two awkward laughs, trying to change the subject: "Don't you have anything else to do?" He'd been lounging at my place for a full two months. If he wasn't in the gym, he was studying in the media room. I really wanted to ask him, doesn't he need to go to school? Then I remembered, he doesn't study. After struggling for a few seconds, I finally found an excuse. "That stuff on your face, don't you need to go get regular maintenance for it?" Cole rubbed his face: "Ma'am, it's all real, you can feel it!" Saying that, he grabbed my hand and placed it on his high nose bridge, then his little pink mouth, then his pecs, his abs... I abruptly pulled my hand back. "I know, I know, it's all real, it's all real." I finally understood. He was addicted to the taste of the good life now. He wasn't in a hurry to enter the entertainment industry anymore. He was in a hurry to enter me. This won't do. Lately, the way Mr. Davis looks at me has been changing. His left cheek says "Since then, the monarch," and his right cheek says "Has not attended early court." (An old saying implying a ruler neglecting duties for a lover). I patted Cole's bicep and said: "I'll take you to meet a few directors tonight." That evening. I introduced Cole to an idol drama director. Director Zhang was very accommodating: "Ms. Vance's younger brother, I will definitely take good care of him." "What year of college are you in this year?" Cole said: "Sophomore." Sophomore? I was a bit surprised: "So young?" Cole secretly winked at me: "Not small at all." Me: "..." So sleazy. I didn't expose the fake background he created for himself. Cole did a screen test right then and there. The role Director Zhang gave him was the third male lead. The scene he tested for was: after developing feelings for the female lead, he corners her in a hotel and confesses his love. The female lead rejects him and slaps him across the face. He had to act heartbroken, but also like a domineering CEO. The script wasn't fully finalized yet, so the dialogue relied on Cole's improvisation for now. I personally stepped in to help out, standing in for the absent female lead. I sat on the sofa. Cole knelt at my feet. The director yelled "Action." Cole's fawning, obedient demeanor instantly vanished. His peach-blossom eyes stared intently at me. His Adam's apple bobbed. His long fingers combed through my hair, positioning my face so I was looking directly at him. Our eyes met. His eyes were dark, a smile that didn't reach his eyes playing on his lips. "Do you absolutely have to like that guy named Miller?" "Am I not good enough?" I didn't need to recite any lines; my job was just to act like a piece of wood. But Cole seemed to have heard me say "You're not good enough." His jaw tightened, he let out a cold laugh, and leaned in closer. "Nora, I serve you much better than he does, don't I?" "Ma'am, if you see him again, I'll lock you up." He cupped my face, his eyes filled with irrepressible jealousy.

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