I pointed behind me at a group of athletes celebrating a birthday, and Percival's face went from pale to ashen.

In the end, I straightened my collar and walked out, frustrated.

It was Rosa who ended up carrying me home.

When I woke up from my hangover, it was already noon. I stumbled back inside, barely able to keep my balance.

The moment I pushed open the door, I knew something was off.

It was too quiet.

I tiptoed into the living room, and that's when I realized what felt wrong.

There, sitting in the living room, was not only Percival, but also my grandfather, Reuben Hollis.

"You're finally back?" Reuben shot me a stern look.

"Just... a friend's birthday," I mumbled, feeling guilty, my voice trailing off.

"You didn't come home all night. Do you have any idea how worried Percival was about you?" Reuben snapped.

Percival stood behind Reuben, silent as a statue, trying to act innocent.

"He went to the bar last night too. I have the photos."

Thank goodness I had one last trick up my sleeve. I pulled out the most embarrassing photo I had.

At the sight of it, Percival froze. His hand brushed over his sleeve, his lips pressed into a thin line, his face tightening with discomfort.

What a rookie, trying to mess with me!

Reuben adjusted his reading glasses and gave Percival a few more pointed looks before turning to him and scolding, "Percival, this is your fault."

I tucked my phone away, pleased with my small victory—let's see who the bad guy is now!

"You went to the bar for business, but why didn’t you invite Sophia to join you? Maybe she could learn something."

WTF!!!

Percival exhaled a quiet sigh of relief, his voice suddenly going submissive. "You're right."

Looks like he got caught this time.

After a bit more back-and-forth, Reuben laid down the law:

— Be home before 10 PM every day.

As I watched Percival see Reuben off, I gave him a look filled with mock filial piety and headed upstairs.

Home by 10, huh?

Well... looks like it’s time to resurrect my live-streaming career.

After graduation, I had started doing audio broadcasts, the kind where you don’t show your face.

Reuben must’ve caught wind of it somehow and quickly handed me over to Percival, telling me to focus and get my act together.

Now, it’s you guys who are pushing me back to my old ways.

I dug around through my things and pulled out my broadcasting equipment. "Hey, my dear listeners, long time no see. Today, I’m going to perform 'The Sad Widow' for you!"

Though I hadn’t warmed up my voice, my emotions were already completely in tune.

"There is a sad widow, weeping in her house..."

I sang with all my heart, swaying to the rhythm. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a shadow.

There stood Percival, his face as dark as a thundercloud, though I couldn’t tell how long he'd been standing there.

The other broadcaster’s voice echoed, still shouting at the top of his lungs.

"Hey, Widow! You’re offline!"

His cheerful, magnetic voice filled the room.

...

Percival’s face remained grim as he slowly walked inside.

Thinking about how he’d been pretending in front of the elders, I decided to keep quiet and bide my time.

"Work. It's a work requirement," I stammered.

He pressed his lips together, his eyes cold as they scanned my live-streaming page.

On the screen was my newly changed username—The Sad Widow.

"Is this also part of your 'work requirement'?" he asked, his tone dripping with suspicion.

I wasn’t actually doing anything for work—I was just having fun messing with him.

Before I could answer, he set down the grapes and turned to leave.

"Grandpa asked me to make sure you eat fruit every day," he said, his voice cold and just barely holding onto patience, as my "Sad Widow" stream played in the background.

He didn’t last long before storming out of the room, his expression still stormy.

I stared at the plate of glistening grapes in front of me, deep in thought. What’s going on here?

When someone fed him grapes at the bar, he scowled and didn’t touch a single one.

Now he’s bringing me a whole plate of them. What’s his deal?

I guess if you've been rained on, you’d want to tear someone else’s umbrella apart too.

But I’m nothing like him; I actually love grapes.

My family only came into money later on. When I was young, my second uncle’s family had grapevines sprawling all over their yard, but they never once sent us a single bunch.

I’ve got a major sweet tooth, and I swear, even in my dreams, I see vines heavy with grapes.

But how could he possibly know that...

The live-streaming host, Stone, sent me a private message when he noticed I hadn’t said anything in a while.

“Where are you? Are you okay?”

“I’m fine, just a widow rising from her grave.”

Suddenly, he was unusually attentive. If that wasn’t a ghost coming back from the dead, what else could it be?

After that day, I kept waiting for his next dramatic performance.

While practicing my singing, I found myself improving my acting too. It wasn’t hard to cry on cue anymore.

But for two whole months, nothing happened.

Percival came home punctually at 10 every night, just as I was starting my broadcast.

We were on opposite schedules and hadn’t crossed paths in ages.

Except for the grapes he always left on the coffee table.

When it came to acting, I still clearly lacked the skill.

It wasn’t until one day, when I went out to pick up takeout, that I ran into Percival, who had just come home.

I was in flip-flops, standing in the chilly autumn wind.

He frowned as his eyes dropped to my feet. I shifted uncomfortably under his gaze and tried to redirect his attention.

“Such a coincidence. You live here too?”

...

I must have been out of my mind to think I was being clear-headed in the autumn chill.

Actually, that night, I had planned to watch a horror movie.

But then he came home late, and I found him still in the kitchen, fussing over a pecan pie.

The scent hit me, and suddenly, the sashimi in my hands didn’t seem all that appetizing anymore.

“I made too much, want some?”

Percival seemed unusually tired tonight, his usual sharpness gone from his voice.

“Obviously, it’s not about being greedy. I just hate wasting food.”

I grabbed a cup of yogurt from the fridge to settle my stomach.

“I’m just afraid you won’t finish it.”

I picked up a piece of pie and ate it all in one bite.

Percival, with a dark look in his eyes, rubbed his chopsticks together, producing a harsh metallic sound. “Aren’t you afraid I poisoned it?”

...

Now you’re telling me this after I’ve eaten it?

I straightened my back and threatened him, “If I die, you’re not going to have a good ending either.”

Percival just smiled faintly and served me a perfectly fried egg, the outer layer crispy and golden.

I pressed the egg down, letting the sauce soak into it before popping it into my mouth.

Just then, he suddenly stood up, leaning in. His gaze traced over my lips, and he whispered in my ear,

“The poison… is actually in the fried egg.”

!!??

The food in my mouth suddenly lost all its appeal.

I was about to snap at him, but he laughed softly, his face full of innocent charm.

“I was just kidding!”

He tapped my head lightly with his fingers.

I rubbed my head, unsure if I should swallow the fried egg or not.

“Your cousin…” He pulled out a beautifully embossed golden invitation from somewhere. “She sent me a birthday invitation.”

My cousin Flora is my second uncle’s only daughter. It was her gossiping that caused my mom to go into premature labor. And on my eighteenth birthday, she brought up old grievances, pushing me to slap her so hard she ended up in the hospital.

People say I’m hard to mess with, and I guess it’s because of that incident.

And now, behind my back, she sent an invitation to my cousin-in-law?

“She invited you but not me?” I said, my face darkening as I stood up.

“Not pretending to be all lovey-dovey in front of others anymore?”

I paused on the stairs for a moment before responding, “We’ll talk about it later.”

I collapsed into bed, and in the middle of the night, a sharp pain in my abdomen woke me up, drenched in cold sweat.

This bastard Percival said there was no poison!

I cursed him weakly under my breath. The soundproofing in my room was top-notch because of the live-streaming setup, but right now, neither heaven nor earth seemed to be helping me.

In a panic, I grabbed my phone from under my pillow, pressing random buttons with whatever strength I had left.

When I finally collapsed, my thoughts began to wander aimlessly.