It was May 20th. My roommate, Kelly, announced her new relationship that day. In the photo, a diamond ring sparkled brightly on their tightly clasped hands. Her caption read: “This is the best thing he’s ever given me.” I zoomed in on the photo and suddenly saw a scar on the man’s index finger that was all too familiar. I turned my head and yelled to my dad, who was busy in the kitchen, “Dad, I feel sick, I want to throw up.” … 1 In the living room, Mom and Dad hovered over me, their faces etched with worry. I clutched the trash can, my stomach churning violently. Ever since I saw that social media post, my mind had been uncontrollably conjuring images of my dad and Kelly together. Each one made me physically ill. Mom gently rubbed my back, offering a perfectly tempered honey water, her eyes full of concern for me alone. Suddenly, I couldn’t meet her gaze, as if I was the one who had done something wrong. Perhaps I truly was to blame. If I hadn’t felt sorry for Kelly, working hard during summer and winter breaks, and hadn’t brought her home so often for meals to cheer her up… If I hadn’t constantly bragged that my dad was the best man in the world… Would none of this have happened? Self-inflicted blame and internal turmoil surged, and I almost blurted out: “Mom, I’m so sorry. It’s my fault Dad had the chance to betray you.” But before the words reached my lips, I regained my composure and rationality. I couldn’t just rip open this wound. Dad held all the financial power in the family. Why should Mom’s years of hard work and everything she built just be handed over to someone else? She can dream! I took a deep breath, and when I looked up again, my eyes were brimming with tears, my expression utterly distraught. “Dad, can you skip your company meeting tonight? I feel really unwell.” Dad didn’t hesitate for a second, nodding repeatedly. I was his little princess, cherished above all else. That evening, I still shared my daily life in the dorm group chat. [Anyone else feel me, fam? I'm getting force-fed puppy chow again.] In the video I posted, my dad, with a look of pure adoration, fed peeled shrimp to my mom. Aside from Kelly, the other two roommates responded with emojis like [eating puppy chow] and [can't even look]. I tagged Kelly, asking with feigned innocence and curiosity: [Kelly, I saw your relationship announcement on social media. Congrats! You’re the first one in our dorm to get snatched up. I bet your boyfriend’s peeling shrimp for you on this romantic day too, right?] I wasn’t sure if Kelly’s post was public, so I used this method to gauge her reaction and that of the other two roommates. The other two roommates were surprised, asking in a flurry what social media post I was talking about. They screenshotted Kelly’s feed. The 5/20 announcement wasn't there. I, in turn, screenshotted Kelly’s post from my own phone. The other two roommates, clearly annoyed, tagged Kelly. [Kelly, what’s the deal? We’re all roommates, and you’re blocking some of us from your posts? What’s up with that?] [Falling in love isn’t something shameful. Why hide it and not even show his face? Is your boyfriend some top idol or something?] I smirked behind my phone screen. Huh. Looks like that post was specifically set to ‘visible only to me,’ with a lot of thought. What was she trying to do? Covertly brag? Test if I could recognize the owner of that hand? Undermine my perfect family, which I always prided myself on? Whatever her reason, I would never tolerate or forgive it. I treated her as my best friend, always thinking of her when I had something good. Yet she maliciously wanted to destroy my family. The other two roommates’ barrage of questions quickly filled the screen. Kelly clearly hadn’t expected things to spiral in an unanticipated direction. She couldn’t play dead any longer, stammering explanations in the group chat, claiming she’d accidentally tapped the wrong setting when posting. The excuse was weak and transparent. No one was stupid; the other two roommates naturally didn’t believe her. The once lively group chat suddenly grew awkward. Since my family was local, I usually didn't stay in the dorms. Kelly and the other two roommates lived there. Thinking about how Kelly would face them tonight, the pent-up frustration in my heart finally eased with a satisfying breath. Kelly wanted to snag a rich guy, that was her business. But when she tried to snag my rich guy, she shouldn’t expect me to be polite. … 2 To my parents’ astonishment, I drove my dad’s Porsche, which he’d given me for my eighteenth birthday. With a trunk full of belongings, I moved into my school dorm room with great fanfare. My excuse: independence and self-reliance. In the dorm, Kelly sat disconsolately, clutching her phone. Seeing it was me, she yanked her bed curtain shut. I happily and loudly announced to my other two roommates that I’d be living in the dorms and started bustlingly unpacking my things. I was in the thick of it when my phone rang with a video call. I pulled out my hand to answer. A rich, deep voice came through. “Cora, Dad just got home and saw your room half-empty. My heart sank. You’ve never been away from home your whole life. If you need anything at school, anything at all, you have to tell Dad. I’ll bring it to you.” From behind Kelly’s curtain, there was the sound of a dropped phone. I glanced over, playfully adding: “Dad, do you remember my roommate, Kelly? Her boyfriend gave her a huge diamond ring, it’s so beautiful, I’m so jealous! But I don’t have a boyfriend, sigh… Dad, maybe I should find a rich boyfriend, then I can have a big diamond ring too.” Kelly’s bed curtain remained motionless, but I could feel it. She was undoubtedly staring at me with cold fury from behind that curtain. On the other end of the video, a flicker of discomfort crossed my dad’s face, immediately replaced by anger. His tone was anxious, clearly afraid I’d actually start a relationship just for a diamond ring. “Cora! Don’t you dare! My daughter, Cora Tang, would never date for money like some gold digger. If you like diamond rings, Dad can buy you enough to fill ten fingers. Don’t ever say anything that demeans yourself like that again.” My dad angrily hung up the video call. Five seconds later, the dorm room echoed with the sound of [Alipay: 500,000 yuan received]. My roommate, Sarah, rushed over, exclaiming, “Oh my god, what kind of fairy tale dad is this? Cora, are you really going to buy ten diamond rings with 500,000 and wear them all?” I pulled back Kelly’s bed curtain, feigning innocence and a carefree smile. “If you wear one and I wear ten, would you be mad, Kelly?” Kelly seemed to be suppressing something, gritting her teeth as she squeezed out, “Does my being mad matter? You, Miss Tang, always do whatever you want, never caring about anyone else’s feelings.” I beamed at her words and happily walked out. I really did buy ten diamond rings. When curious people asked, I’d tell them my dad was so afraid I’d become a gold digger for a single ring that he filled my fingers with them first. Everyone then looked at the diamond ring that had suddenly appeared on Kelly’s finger with complicated expressions. In just a few days, Kelly couldn't bear it anymore and voluntarily took off her ring. Yet every time she saw me, her eyes were filled with resentment and unwillingness. Is that all it takes to make her feel wronged? To feel humiliated? This was just the beginning. I wasn’t exposing her yet. Not because I was afraid of her, but because I wanted to slowly torture her to death. After a few quiet days, Kelly started returning to the dorm later and later, almost always just as the doors were closing. Each night, she came back beaming. But on her, I smelled a familiar, high-end cologne. Kelly, giddy with delight, admired her new designer bag in the dorm mirror, her eyes twinkling with a smile as she asked me: “Cora, this is the bag my boyfriend gave me tonight. It’s a new style. Do you like it?” I surveyed her, my words sharp. “The bag’s alright. It just looks a bit… suburban on you. Don’t you think, everyone? Kelly looks neither rural nor sophisticated.” 3 The other two roommates took a careful look, nodding in agreement. Kelly stood in front of the mirror like a clown, her face alternating between green and white. Then, as if remembering something joyful, she said with a suggestive tone, “But my boyfriend says he loves my natural, country girl charm. Cora, don’t you think my boyfriend is great?” This time, I didn't even bother to look up, my fingers flying across the screen. After a lot of effort, I had finally calculated our family’s approximate assets. I pinched the bridge of my nose, then slowly said, “That’s hard to say. Who knows if your boyfriend just got tired of all the fine dining and suddenly craved a bit of dandelion greens?” Kelly glared at me, her eyes red with fury. I hummed a tune, my heart filled with frost. Hating Kelly was true. But I hated my dad more. He knew Kelly was my roommate, knew how much Mom and I trusted him. Yet he entangled himself with Kelly, again and again. Perhaps, that perfect dad had always been just my own fantasy. Only because it was Kelly this time did I finally notice the cracks. I should be grateful, grateful for Kelly’s thoughtlessness and subtle bragging. It allowed me to see my dad clearly, and gave me time to make arrangements beforehand. I wouldn’t let either of them off the hook. That weekend, I drove to my grandparents’ house. The moment I walked in, I knelt before them and burst into tears. My grandparents cherished me like the apple of their eye, calling me their precious darling, frantic with worry. Between sobs, I told my grandparents, “I don’t want to live, Grandma, Grandpa. You’re the ones who love me most. I wanted to see you again before I die.” At my words, Grandma’s tears flowed freely, and Grandpa, a strong man his whole life, teared up, his voice trembling. The two of them held me, comforting and reassuring me, promising that no matter what injustice I suffered, they would stand up for me. I pulled out my phone, found the picture of Kelly and my dad with their fingers entwined, and then found the video I secretly recorded of Kelly showing off her new bag and asking me if her boyfriend was great. My grandparents, guided by my hints, recognized the scar on my dad’s finger. Grandpa’s eyes widened in fury, his face turning ashen. He stood up, ready to go beat my dad to death. Grandma grabbed me, insisting we go to the school to expose Kelly for breaking up a family. I cried, stopping them, my voice choked with grievance. “It’s no use, Grandma, Grandpa. A scar alone can’t prove this. And besides, if family secrets get out, where will Mom and I put our faces? I really don’t want to live, but I don’t want Mom to know any of this. I’m afraid she’ll do something rash, boohoohoo…” My grandparents were heartbroken, crying that if anything happened to me, it would be the end of them. When the moment was right, I spoke with a bitter tone. “Grandma, Grandpa, my roommate is clearly after Dad’s money. Every time she gets something, she subtly flaunts it in front of me. I’m so sad. Is there… is there any way to make sure Dad has no money for her? I’m afraid today she wants a diamond ring, tomorrow a bag, the day after a car, an apartment, and then Dad’s company. What will Mom and I do then, boohoohoo…” Grandpa and Grandma exchanged glances, lost in thought. A moment later, Grandpa put his arm around my shoulder, promising: “Don’t cry, sweetie. Grandpa has a plan. Grandpa will find a way to reclaim your dad’s assets and transfer them to your name. If that day comes, the only one left with nothing will be him, the one who made the mistake. You and your mother have Grandpa to protect you.” My objective achieved, I lowered my head to conceal the curve of my lips, my eyes clear and sharp. …
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