"Dr. Lu."

My voice was flat, devoid of emotion.

"Our contract is settled. I have no obligation to report my whereabouts to you."

There was a pregnant pause on the other end of the line.

"That email... I didn't send it."

"I know."

He clearly hadn't expected that answer. "You know?"

"Dr. Lu's emails never end with a period. In that one, every single sentence had one." I leaned against the doorframe of the garden, my tone as casual as if I were discussing the weather. "But it doesn't matter. The money arrived, the papers are signed, and the matter is closed."

"The agreement doesn't bear my signature, only the law firm’s proxy stamp. Legally speaking—"

"So, what do you plan to do? Take back the sixty million?"

He didn't respond.

"As long as you’re not taking it back, it’s fine," I said. "Don’t waste your time, Dr. Lu. Your surgery schedule is packed."

"Vivian."

"Yes?"

"The medicine... you were the one buying it."

It wasn't a question. I hadn't expected him to bring that up.

I paused for two seconds.

"I bought it at the pharmacy. Twelve dollars a bottle. Your stomach is in bad shape; you should drink less coffee."

The silence on the other end lasted a long time.

I waited for a few more seconds.

"If there’s nothing else, I’m hanging up."

I disconnected the call. Blocked the number.

As I put my phone down, my mother poked her head out from the kitchen, clutching a handful of garlic.

"Who was that?"

"Adrian Lu."

"Oh." My mom slammed the garlic onto the cutting board. "Want a midnight snack? I’ll warm up a bowl of congee for you."

No commentary, no interrogation.

In a bowl of warm congee, everything was understood.

Three days later, at St. Yanhe General Hospital.

Adrian Lu didn't hold a press conference or make a grand scene. Instead, he did only one thing.

At the weekly department meeting, thirty-seven staff members sat in the conference room. He stood at the front, spent twenty minutes discussing case studies, and then spoke a few words at the very end.

"One final announcement. Recently, someone used my office account to forge an email, impersonating me to communicate with a family member, which led to serious consequences. After verification, the person responsible is Selina Shen from Cardiology. The relevant materials have been submitted to the Hospital Ethics and Disciplinary Office."

"My personal affairs should not take up department time, but I want everyone here to know one fact: the termination of the agreement between Vivian Su and me was not my intention."

He was finished.

No bowing, no emotional appeal.

He closed his laptop and said, "Meeting adjourned."

The thirty-seven people were dead silent.

The moment he stepped out of the conference room, the entire floor erupted.

How did the news spread?

First, it was the neurosurgery nurses' group chat, then the hospital-wide gossip groups, then the cafeteria staff, then the pharmaceutical reps, and finally the three neighboring hospitals.

In less than twenty-four hours, the entire medical community knew.

Adrian Lu of St. Yanhe had lost his wife because someone forged his name.

Things were even worse for Selina Shen.

Overnight, the way her colleagues in Cardiology looked at her completely changed.

Before, she was the "woman most suited for Adrian Lu in the whole hospital." Now, she was the "calculating bitch who stole a computer to pull petty stunts."

Her name was pulled from the joint research project, and she was replaced for the annual report.

When colleagues who used to greet her warmly encountered her in the hallway, they looked down and walked past.

She had become a joke.

But I knew none of this.

I was at home, putting up wallpaper in the babies' rooms.

My mother was directing from the side. "The left side is too high, move it down a bit. That color isn't right; swap it for that soft yellow."

My father sat in the living room watching TV, occasionally shouting, "Tell your mother to stop fussing. She just put a medicated patch on her lower back."

Life felt just like when I was a child.

Noisy and warm.

I had almost forgotten that a month ago, I was the invisible person in the Lu household whom no one cared about.

Until Adrian's mother showed up at my door.

That morning, I was in the garden watering the flowers.

The doorbell rang.

I opened it to find

Eleanor

dressed in a dark suit, her face longer than a funeral portrait.

Jenny Lu

followed behind her, arms crossed.

"Vivian, the children in your womb carry the Lu bloodline. Pack your things and come back with us now."

Her opening line was as blunt and arrogant as she was.

Before I could even speak, my mother walked out from the house. She was wearing an apron, her hands dusted with flour.

"Who are you? Making all this noise at the door first thing in the morning."

Eleanor looked my mother up and down.

"Are you Vivian’s mother? I am Adrian’s mother. We need to talk about the children."

"Talk about what?" My mom wiped her hands on her apron and leaned against the doorframe. "Your family suddenly remembers my daughter when you want children? She lived in your house for a year; did you ever invite her for a single meal?"

"That is a separate matter—"

"No, it isn't. When she was in your house, you called her 'the girl from the agency.' Now that she’s pregnant, you’re at my door trying to play family?"

Eleanor’s face paled.

Jenny Lu couldn't help herself. "Auntie, do you even know who the Lu family is—"

"I don't, and I don't want to."

My father walked out from the house. His back was hurting, so he moved slowly, but his posture was rock-steady as he stood at the door.

He glanced at Eleanor, ignored her, and turned to me.

"Vivian, go inside. It’s windy out here."

"Dad, I’m fine."

"Go inside."

I recognized that tone. He wasn't asking.

I went inside.

My mother told me what happened next. My father said only one sentence:

"The children stay with my daughter and will take the surname Su. If you want to fight, take it to court."

Jenny Lu grew frantic. "Can you even afford a lawyer?"

My voice drifted out from the house.

"I can. Sixty million is enough to hire the best in the city."

The doorway fell silent.

Eleanor’s expression shifted through several shades of frustration.

Finally, she dragged Jenny Lu away, slamming the car door so hard it echoed through the entire lane.

My father came back inside and sat down, rubbing his back.

My mother went to get the medicated patches, cursing under her breath.

"The nerve of them. Coming here for children as if they were picking up a shipment of goods."

I poured a glass of water for my father.

He took a sip and said, "Don't be afraid of them."

"I know."

That night, after my parents had gone to sleep, I sat alone in the garden watching the moon.

I took out my phone and opened the browser.

In the search bar, I typed: "Requirements for Senior Clinical Nutritionist Certification."

I read for a long time.

Then, I bookmarked the page.