1 Lucas Frost and I were famous in our circle as "The Toxic Exes." We tortured each other for ten years until we reached a truce. But on the first day he returned from abroad, just to make his new beauty smile, he trashed my bar. I tore into him verbally. "Tsk, breaking your place felt good," he sneered. "Name your price. I'll pay whatever you want for damages." What demands could a dying woman have? After my last checkup, I knew I was out of time. A mother and daughter in the waiting room, both recovered, looked at me with pity. "That poor girl. So young, and in the end, she won't even have anyone to collect her body." Sitting in the cold hospital hallway, I dialed that number I'd had saved for ten years. "If you really want to compensate me... collect my body when I'm gone." ... It was a rainy night, and the bar was empty. The TV was playing the news about Lucas Frost's return. Just as I was about to close up, a young girl walked in. She folded her umbrella and pointed excitedly at the bottles behind the counter. "I'll take all of these." Behind her walked Lucas's best friend, Ethan Cole. When he saw me, he froze. "Uh, maybe we should go somewhere else?" "But I brought this wine to Lucas before, and he loved it! He said it was his favorite." The girl turned to me, beaming. "Bartender, I'm booking the whole place tonight. Bring out those bottles." I nodded, my hands trembling slightly as I scooped ice. Not from nerves, or excitement. But because my illness was terminal, and the tremors were getting worse. "Ethan, can you light the candles? Lucas will be so happy when he gets here, right?" Ethan didn't answer. He knew that seeing me was the last thing that would make Lucas happy. On the TV, Lucas smirked at the cameras. "She's definitely watching. I'm looking forward to our reunion." From this angle, the scar on his eyebrow was glaringly obvious. I gave him that scar with a kitchen knife. No reason. I was just in a bad mood, so I cut him. The jagged scar on the webbing of my hand was from when he ripped my skin open with his bare hands. It got infected repeatedly, leaving this mark. "Mr. Frost, where are you headed now? With those roses, are you meeting your girlfriend?" He paused for a beat. "My fiancée." The girl in my bar was busy setting the mood. Hearing the news report, she turned to look at the TV. "Ethan, have you ever met his first love? The one he dated for ten years?" I kept my head down, shaking the mixer, but out of the corner of my eye, I saw Ethan glance at me. "Lucas!" The girl ran out excitedly, forgetting her umbrella. "Zoey." Lucas tilted his umbrella to cover her. She stood on her tiptoes, planting an excited kiss on the corner of his mouth. Lucas flinched back slightly. Our eyes met through the rain-streaked glass. Zoey tried to turn around to follow his gaze, but he grabbed her chin, tilting her head up for a deep kiss. I looked away and dropped a mint leaf into the glass. Ethan walked up to the counter. He hesitated before speaking. "Please, don't make trouble for him again." He thought for a moment, then added. "She's pretty, right? She looks a bit like you did when you were younger. She's only nineteen." I nodded, feeling a bit dazed. "She is pretty." Two figures walked into the bar. Lucas closed his black umbrella. "Are you guys... praising my fiancée?" With that, his gaze fell heavily on me. It had been a long time. 2 Ethan held his breath, watching me. He wasn't sure if I'd do something crazy again. But I just slid the glasses toward them. "Drinks are ready. Enjoy." Zoey rested her chin in her hands, eyes full of joy as she looked at the man across from her. "Lucas, try it. It's the one you said was your favorite." Lucas took a sip, his fingers tracing the rim of the glass. "Bitter and astringent. Indeed, my favorite." Zoey took a suspicious sip. "But this isn't sweet! You lied to me again!" She didn't notice his eyes were fixed intensely on me. The bar door was kicked open. "Bro! Welcome back!" A group of guys swaggered in. Their joyous expressions froze the moment they saw me. Their eyes darted between me and Ethan, cautious and probing. I brought over their drinks. As I handed them out, they all flinched, raising their arms to block their faces. During my war with Lucas, they had been caught in the crossfire a few times. Just minor skirmishes, but apparently, they held a grudge. "Ethan, what's the situation?" one whispered. Ethan shrugged. "Enjoy." I turned to leave, but Zoey grabbed my hand. "Miss, can you take a picture for us?" "No." I dusted off my apron and started to walk away. Lucas's voice stopped me. "You're running a business. Everything has a price. Name yours." I didn't speak. He threw a stack of cash at me. "Enough?" I turned around. The wad of bills hit me square in the face. "Lucas... don't..." "Sorry, miss, my fiancée is a bit drunk." I bent down to pick up the money. "With his tolerance, two drinks won't get him drunk." A scoff came from above. "Bro, she still loves money this much. Three years later, still a cheap piece of trash." Maybe I'd been too quiet, giving them the confidence to speak like that. I picked up ten bills, crumpled and dirty with alcohol and mud, and balled them up. I walked calmly up to Lucas. He held out his phone confidently, seeming to enjoy my current temperament. I grabbed his jaw, forcing his mouth open, and shoved the ball of cash inside. Just to make sure it went down, I poured two drinks down his throat along with it. Turning around, I slapped the guy who called me trash. "Run your mouth again, and I'll sew it shut." It happened so fast, the only sound left was the rain outside. Only Ethan sighed, leaning back and downing a drink. "Boss, this isn't how you do business! We were wrong first, hitting you was wrong, but he..." I turned and slapped him too. Lucas wiped his mouth, a faint smile playing on his lips. "Hitting me is fine. But slapping my fiancée's face? Too far. Zoey, how do you want to vent?" Zoey covered her face, tears welling in her eyes. Lucas scanned the room. "Nice place. Smash it to make Zoey feel better?" As she nodded, bodyguards filed in with bats. Windows, the island, the lights—everything was smashed to pieces. Through the broken window, rain lashed against my face. Lucas pinched my cheek. "You didn't do anything wrong, but I need to make Zoey happy. Think about what compensation you want. I'll agree to anything." His greedy gaze lingered on my face. I shook him off, coughing uncontrollably, frantically searching through the rubble for my medicine bottle. He glanced at the label with disdain. "Taking six sedatives at once? Trying to kill yourself?" He threw the bottle into a puddle and walked away with his arm around Zoey. I crouched by the puddle, fished out two more pills, and swallowed them. These weren't just sedatives; they were painkillers. It started with half a pill. Now, eight pills barely took the edge off. The medicine was running out, and so was my life. 3 In the last three years, my mom died. She left me this bar. It was all I had. Suddenly, I didn't know where to go. Or maybe the pain racking my body made me too lazy to move. I sat in the ruins, soaked by rain all night. By morning, the scandal of Lucas Frost's revenge on his ex was all over the news in Seacity. As the sun rose, I decided to leave. Before I did, I kowtowed three times to the wreckage. Lucas appeared out of nowhere. He stepped over the debris and lifted me up with one hand. "It's just a broken bar. Why do this to yourself?" I dusted off my hands, stood steady, and slapped him three times. Hard. "My mom's memorial tablet was in there. I couldn't find it, so I kowtowed." He raised an eyebrow. "Is that so? Three slaps for your mom's tablet. Fair trade." I ignored him and walked out. He followed, chattering, trying to provoke me. "Jane, I'm talking to you." I walked like I was deaf. He hurried to catch up. "Stop pretending you don't care. Do you know how terrible you look right now? Still acting tough." "Got a little sick, look a little haggard. Do you really think you're important enough to affect me?" But I was certain of one thing. He came back specifically to torment me. If I were healthy, I wouldn't mind skinning him alive again. But now, I didn't have the energy. At the hospital. Several doctors looked at my scans with complicated expressions. "How much medicine do you have left?" "None." "None?! That was a three-month supply! You finished it in a week?" Dr. Zhang had been managing my case. The moment he faltered, I knew. My time was up. "Where are... your parents?" "Dr. Zhang, you really have a bad memory. After all this time, don't you know me? Just a few years of torture, then a handful of dirt. I can handle it." He adjusted his glasses. "Your mood has been stable for three years. Why the sudden change this week?" I looked at the news notification on my phone. Sometimes, the people you care about least become the invisible executioners. "Your condition is very bad. Without medication, it could be seven days, a month, maybe three. Hard to say." "Take this. Take three pills when it hurts. Remember, maximum three..." Before he finished, I opened the bottle and swallowed a mouthful. Didn't matter how many. As long as it stopped hurting. Seven days or three months, it was all the same to me. After taking the pills, I squatted in the most inconspicuous corner of the hospital. Leaning against the cold wall, sweat soaked my back over and over again. In ten minutes, I heard every prayer and plea imaginable outside the operating room. "Mommy, is that the big sister from before? Should we say goodbye when we get better?" "She won't get better. Let's not upset her. Sigh, poor kid. No parents, serious illness. Probably won't even have anyone to collect her body when she dies." The little girl looked up innocently. "Her mom and dad... there must be someone in the world who loves her, right?" I looked at the blurry text on my phone, rubbing my eyes for a long time. It was a text from Lucas. He'd been messaging since last night, asking about compensation. I thought, maybe no one loves me, but I might have found someone to collect my body. I dialed the number I had saved for ten years. He picked up quickly. "Decided?" "If you insist on compensation, Lucas... collect my body when I die." 4 Silence on the other end for three seconds, followed by a scoff. "People as vicious as you usually live a long time. But if you really do die before me, don't worry. I'll give you a grand funeral. I'll light up the whole city for you!" With that promise, I hung up satisfied. Walking out of the hospital, I saw the mother and daughter from earlier. The little girl patted her chest. "Who says no one loves her? I love her." "Alright, let's go. The bus... oh, the bus!" The mother chased after it. I walked to the parking garage. When I drove out, they were still there, so I offered them a ride. "Get in. I'll drop you off." I took them to the city center. They thanked me profusely. "Well, look who's doing charity work? Trying to buy some good karma?" Lucas and his crew stumbled out of a bar nearby. Zoey stared at me intently. I didn't want to deal with them. I tried to drive away, but Zoey pressed her hand against my window. She smiled, but her eyes were cold. "Sister, I just found out about you and Lucas. Yesterday... I didn't offend you, did I?" I tried to roll up the window, but she held it down. "Sister, I have something for you. I mean no harm." "I don't want to hear your nonsense. Scram." Zoey suddenly let go. As I started to drive, she pulled a jar from her bag. "I heard your mom's urn was in the shop. I was afraid you'd have nothing to remember her by, so I went this morning and scooped up some ashes from the site." She reached into the window and, right in front of my face, poured the ash onto the ground. "Oops! Sister, why didn't you catch it? You won't blame me, right?" I watched her performance. Great. She asked for it. The guys behind her didn't know what was happening; they were praising Zoey's magnanimity. "Zoey is so thoughtful, talking to her despite the disgust, and even giving a gift." Zoey turned back confidently, walking toward the car in front of me. She waved the keys, celebrating her victory. I looked at the guy next to my window. "I have a gift for her too." He smirked. "What could you possibly give her?" I buckled my seatbelt. "A ride to hell." Before the sentence ended, I slammed the gas pedal. I smashed into the Porsche in front of me. The impact was violent. My car drifted out of control, but I gripped the wheel and didn't let up on the gas. In the rearview mirror, the drunk guys sobered up instantly. "She's crazy!" "I told you she was a ticking time bomb! You had to provoke her!" "Relax, she's a paper tiger. If she wanted to fight, she would have already. Just scaring us to vent." True, I just needed to vent. But I wasn't done yet. Zoey stumbled out of the smoking car, playing the victim again. "Lucas... did I do something wrong?" Lucas was bleeding from his head, rushing to the other side of the car to grab Zoey. He seemed to realize my intent. "Jane! Don't you dare!" Joke's on him. I dare do anything. I stared at Zoey and floored it. The car roared toward her.
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