3

[Why is Gloria so cold? Even if the little girl isn't her real daughter, she shouldn't let her wash her face and brush her teeth alone. She's only four.]

[Exactly! My daughter is five, and I personally take care of everything for her. I wouldn't let my daughter participate in such a show.]

[Compared to the other three families, Gloria is really cold.]

[An out-of-date actress, she still thinks she's a top star. What a diva.]

[You don't understand. Gloria and Pomelo just met, and it's her first time on a reality show. Of course, she doesn't know how to interact yet.]

[Oh, someone's defending their idol now...]

[...]

These comments didn't bother me.

I'm no longer the Gloria I used to be.

I closed my phone and fell asleep.

4

On the first official day of filming, the families were supposed to get to know each other.

The other three families came to my apartment to visit.

After some polite conversation, the children went from being strangers to familiar playmates, eventually sitting on the carpet together, playing games.

The first family's Cindy asked me, "Gloria, why didn't Martin come?"

I casually made up an excuse, "He's filming and couldn't find the time."

The third family's Linda asked, "Will Martin come visit our show later?"

I responded indifferently, without any pretense, "No."

Linda noticed my lack of expression and forced a laugh, not pursuing the topic further.

But others continued to ask about my marriage with Martin.

Not just them, but the show's crew and netizens also wanted to know about our marital status.

There were times when reporters asked Martin about our relationship, but he never publicly discussed our marriage.

Now that I'm participating in this reality show, I've become their target for questions.

"Gloria, I remember you and Martin were very active on screen together back then. It seemed like after you got married, you gradually faded from the public eye. Did you want to be a full-time housewife?"

I felt a bit impatient and was about to decline the question when the four children playing together started to argue.

"Wow--"

A little girl burst into tears.

Linda and her husband quickly comforted the girl, "What's wrong, sweetheart?"

The girl pointed at a little boy playing with a Barbie doll on the floor, "Leo bullied me. He took all my toys and won't let me play with them."

I looked over at the little boy.

I noticed that he not only ignored the crying girl but deliberately broke the Barbie doll's leg.

I frowned slightly.

If I'm not mistaken, this little boy is the son of the chairman of the investment company backing this show.

Clearly, the Linda couple didn't dare offend the boy and comforted their daughter, "Alright, alright, don't cry. Daddy will buy you another one later."

Similarly, the couple playing the boy's parents also didn't dare to scold him and tried to console the girl, "How about we buy two new ones? This one is broken. We don't need it anymore."

The girl wiped her tears, "No, I want this one. He took it from me."

Since this happened in my apartment, it was my responsibility to handle it.

I came to Pomelo and asked her, "Pomelo, is what Sister Rita said true?"

Pomelo nodded, "Mom, Sister is right. This boy took my toys too."

I took the broken-legged Barbie doll from the boy's hand, "Leo, these toys were shared by Pomelo. You should be thankful to her."

"Whatever I take is mine."

The boy tried to snatch it back, but I moved it out of his reach.

I opened the door to the apartment and said to the boy, "If you're going to be so domineering, nobody will like you. A child who no one likes has no friends and I'm going to ask you and your parents to leave now."

Anna and her husband were stunned, then quickly tried to soothe the boy, "Sweetheart, apologize to Sister Joy and Auntie, or we won't be welcome here anymore."

The boy shook off Anna's hand and angrily looked at me, "I won't apologize. You're bullying me. I'm going to tell my dad and make you all leave."

I curled my lips and smiled, "Okay."

Anna and her husband realized they couldn't stay any longer and left with the boy.

5

In the afternoon, my assistant called me, "Gloria, I'm sorry. I forgot to brief you about the other families. That naughty boy you scolded this morning is the son of our investor, who got the son at his old age, and they treasure him dearly."

"The director is on edge, preparing to apologize to the investor. He asked me to remind you to be more careful next time."

I replied casually, "I knew he was the investor's son."

My assistant was puzzled, "Then why did you..."

I chuckled and asked, "When have you ever seen me put up with anyone?"

Assistant was speechless.

I thought about the item I asked my assistant to give to Martin yesterday and inquired, "Did you hand over what I asked you to give to that man?"

Assistant replied, "Yes, I gave it to him personally."

I said, "Good, thanks."

As I was talking on the phone, the doorbell rang. Pomelo ran over, stood on a small stool, and looked through the peephole.

"Who are you?"

The person outside was silent for a moment before replying, "Martin."

Pomelo answered in her soft voice, "Oh, wait a moment. I'll ask Mom who Martin is."

The person outside replied, "No need. I'm your dad."

Pomelo thought for a moment, then said, "But I still need to tell Mom."

The person outside was speechless.

Pomelo ran back to me, "Mom, Dad is here."

I was initially confused, glancing at the door, "Dad?"

Pomelo nodded seriously, "He said his name is Martin."

My expression turned cold, "Tell him I'm not here."

Seeing my displeased expression, Pomelo ran back to the door, "Dad, Mom said she's not here. You should come back tomorrow."

Martin was speechless.

6

Martin called me, but I didn't answer. I was trying to make steamed egg custard for Pomelo.

The phone kept ringing.

I glanced at the camera in the room. It seemed to be off.

So, I had to open the door.

Martin saw me wearing an apron, his eyes flickering with some emotion.

I had never cooked at home in the past five years, let alone made a meal for Martin.

He was dressed in a suit, holding a document in his hand.

I could tell it was the item I asked my assistant to give him.

Inside was a diamond ring.

He walked in, glanced at Pomelo, and then focused on me, "What made you decide to join a reality show?"

I retorted sarcastically, "Did you really think you could keep me like a bird in a gilded cage?"

Without waiting for his response, I took Pomelo's hand and led her into the kitchen.

Martin took out the wedding ring from the document.

Opening the box, he took out the ring.

Grabbing my wrist, he forcibly slid the ring back onto my finger.

7

Martin took out the box containing our wedding rings from a file.

He opened it and took out the diamond ring inside.

Grabbing my wrist, he forcibly slipped the ring onto my finger.

I've become more detached from everything, and while I was angry at Martin's actions, it wasn't enough to let my anger show, especially with Pomelo watching nearby.

I casually tossed the ring into the kitchen trash can, not bothering to look at Martin, and coldly said, "Get out."

Martin didn't look too upset. Instead, a hint of awkwardness crossed his face.

Ignoring him, he turned his attention to Pomelo, "Little girl, what's your name?"

In a sweet, childish voice, Pomelo replied, "I'm called Pomelo."

Martin asked, "Why are you here participating in this show?"

Pomelo responded, "Daddy and Mommy sent me here to make money to treat my little brother's illness."

Hearing Pomelo's words, I paused what I was doing.

Most of the kids participating in this variety show were the children of investors, celebrities, or wealthy families. How could Pomelo come from such an ordinary background?

Martin held Pomelo on his lap on the sofa, continuing, "What's wrong with your little brother?"

Pomelo lowered his head, his little face full of sadness, and shook his head, "My little brother has leukemia and needs a bone marrow transplant, but our family has no money."

The egg custard I made for Pomelo was ready.

Listening to Pomelo's words, I got lost in thought and reached for the custard bowl with my bare hands.

I screamed in pain as I burned myself, and the custard and bowl fell to the ground.

Martin saw this and quickly put Pomelo down, rushing over, "Let me see."

He grabbed my hand to check the burn.

It wasn't serious, just a bit red, but it was my first time cooking in years, and the egg custard I made for Pomelo was ruined.

Martin held my hand under cold water, scolding me, "Don't you know your own cooking skills?"

I pulled my hand back and coldly replied, "You have some nerve staying here after I told you to get out."

After a while under the cold water, my hand stopped hurting. I squatted down and said to Pomelo, "Pomelo, we'll have to order takeout for dinner tonight."

Pomelo nodded, holding my hand and blowing on it, "Mommy, Pomelo will blow on it; it won't hurt anymore."

For some reason, my nose started to sting.

Martin sneered, "If the cameras weren't off, ordering takeout would have people thinking you're abusing the kid."

He's always had a sharp tongue.

He's been like that since he was a kid.

In the past, I might have snapped back at him, but now, all I feel is a deep sense of weariness.

8

Martin said, "Give me the apron."

I immediately ordered him out, "I won't eat anything you cook. It's late. You should leave."

Martin began untying the apron I was wearing, "How about I cook something for the kid?"

Pomelo looked up at Martin, "Daddy, I have a name. I'm called Pomelo, remember?"

Martin asked, "Pomelo, what do you like to eat? Daddy will make it for you."

Pomelo glanced at me with her big, grape-like eyes and sweetly said, "Whatever Mommy likes, Pomelo likes too."

"Alright, you and Mommy go wait outside for a bit," Martin said to Pomelo before starting to search the fridge for ingredients.

I led Pomelo out of the kitchen.

Martin's cooking skills are excellent, though he rarely cooks.

Whatever he makes for Pomelo should be fine.

Pomelo took a peek into the kitchen and then said to me in her sweet voice, "Mommy, you don't seem to like Daddy, do you?"

I was speechless.

How was I supposed to answer such a deadly question from Pomelo?