In our seventh year together, Luther Campbell and I chose to tatto each other's names onto our skin.

After the inking got done, I woke up dizzy.

But I noticed the phrase "Phoenix City's Must-Eat List" across my chest.

Watching my face suddenly go dark, tattoo worker Faye Stewart covered her lips and let out a small laugh.

"You rely on a guy anyway, right? Did I mark something wrong?"

I threw the glass right there.

Bits scattered like tiny lights, shooting toward Faye.

The next moment, Luther Campbell rushed inside, nearly running, wrapping her fully in his arms.

He knit his brow at me; impatience pressed in his tone. "Faye is young; she was only kidding. Do you really need to throw a tantrum like this?"

I stared straight at Luther’s loose neckline.

There should’ve been my name there, yet instead, the name "Faye" was carved clearly.

Peeking out, Faye stuck her tongue out, tone childlike. "Brother Luther said he liked how my name sounded last time."

"So I just did a little joke with Brother Luther. Sister won’t be upset, right?"

——

My expression turned cold.

Before I managed to speak, a few of Luther’s buddies walked inside, laughing loudly.

"Bro Luther and Vera are still just as close as always."

"Sure. When Bro Luther chased after Vera before, he laid out a whole rose garden using 99,999 gold roses."

"Seven years married and still getting matching couple tattoos, Bro Luther never lost that care."

"So, what did you two ink?"

Right after those lines, their eyes dropped toward the edge of my shirt.

Smiles froze in an instant.

Their mouths stayed lifted, yet their eyes stiffened hard.

The whole place suddenly went eerily quiet.

Only Faye let out a tiny laugh.

Luther tightened his brow, naturally tugging Faye a little behind him. "Faye, say sorry."

Faye pushed her lips out, barely tossing a simple line, "Sorry, fine?"

She looked up toward me, rolled her eyes fast, whispering low, "It was only a joke, why act so worked up?"

"An old lady really loves a scene."

Softly, Luther tapped her arm, then faced me with a tone like gentle advising.

"Faye realizes she was at fault. Don’t argue with a kid."

"She’s just twenty, thinks simply, speaks straight."

"You’ve always been broad-minded, don’t pressure her."

Each sentence hid like a soft knife.

There he stood, polite and calm, turning clear bias into something that sounded fair.

I let out a short laugh, cold and angry.

"Say sorry?"

"I don’t take it."

Slowly, I drew my neckline together, hiding those shameful five marks.

My fingers pressed into my skin, painful, yet still not as sharp as the ache inside my chest.

At Luther, I looked, speaking slowly, phrase after phrase, "Since you cannot fix this well, I will settle it in my own style."

Then around I turned and stepped away.

When the door closed, faintly I caught voices inside.

"That stare Vera had just then, my spine went cold. She was spoiled by the Kelly family since childhood, when had she ever been shamed like that?"

One person paused, "Faye is hard to deal with; she likely won't drop this."

Luther’s even voice came, sounding sure.

"She won’t. I know Vera, she only spoke from anger, she won't truly do anything toward Faye."

He waited briefly, then said, "Plus, with me guarding her, she cannot act."

Uneasy looks passed among the group.

I hadn’t expected that Luther, who always acted soft with me, would stand in front of Faye like that.

Right then, someone nearby chuckled and praised him. "Sure, Miss Stewart is the one Brother Luther spoils the most now."

Outside the entrance, I stood there as a cold smile slowly shaped across my face.

Not strike back? Then I wouldn’t match the name Kelly.

In the car, I sat down and opened my phone. "Tonight at twelve."

"Bring Faye Stewart to me."

"And arrange skin-patch tools and a doctor team."

Around a little past eleven, my screen lit bright.

My brother wrote, [I’ve ordered the guards to send Faye to the old home. She’ll reach there in twenty minutes.]

I was ready to answer when another friend forwarded a clip.

Once I tapped it open, Faye was smiling widely toward the lens.

"Today I made a special pattern for a certain self-styled high-class old lady."

She waved the tattoo pen toward the shot. "Guess what I carved on her? Phoenix City Must Eat List!"

"You people should’ve seen it, she’s already thirty yet still dares to show her chest. The flesh was so loose I couldn’t even keep the needle steady. I purposely pressed three times. No matter what, she’ll never erase it.

The comment section burst.

[Refreshing book lead]

[Good job!]

[Hahaha, too funny!]

As she spoke more, she grew more hyped, her eyes bright with small pride.

"I’ve met plenty like her. Holding a little family cash, all they do is buy purses, sip tea, and hook men. Unlike me, I opened a store by my own hands at twenty."

She let out a dramatic sigh. "Shame, no matter how that old lady jumps around, she’s just like that. Her man must be tired of her already."

"Next round, I’ll stream something even better. Watch how I deal with these gold-digging pests."

The clip stopped.

So angry, I let out a laugh.

Faye Stewart.

That title, I named her with my own mouth.

Five years earlier, during a village support check in the hills, I found her inside a cracked mud room.

The sixteen-year-old child curled on a straw sheet, skin marked with wounds.

Her face was pale and thin, her eyes showing low self-worth and hopelessness.

Back then, she was called Hope, meaning to bring a younger boy into the home.

She held tight to my sleeve and said, "Older sister, I want to study."

I took her to Phoenix, changed her name to Faye, meaning full moon and plenty.

Sent her to the top art college, and I personally cut the ribbon for her tattoo store after graduation.

Now she used the craft I paid for to carve five shameful words across my chest, just to mock me online.

And even had her sights on my man.

But what stunned me most was that Luther guarded her that way.

My mind was cut short by noise.

Many black-suited guards marched inside like a team.

Two of them hauled Faye over and tossed her on the ground like rubbish.

Weakly, she tried to lift her head, eyes burning with anger.

"Vera! Apart from using the Kelly family’s power to push people down, what else can you do?"

Then she suddenly seemed to recall something, her lips lifting in smug triumph.

"If you treat me like this, Brother Luther won’t let you off!"

"When he gets bored with you, do you think the Kelly clan will still want a woman thrown away by the Campbell family? Later you’ll be nothing!"

Lowering my gaze toward her, I smiled.

"When Luther chased after me back then, he didn’t even know what the Kelly family was."

Her smile went stiff.

Above her, I touched her chin lightly using the tip of my shoe.

"Sure, you’re twenty now, young and fresh."

"The skin on your face is soft and new, just right to replace the tattoo carved on my chest."

Her eyes shrank tight. "As for using power to press others down…"

I let my foot drop and took the sanitizing towel offered by the housekeeper, slowly rubbing my palms.

"You said one thing wrong."

"In Phoenix City, I am that power."

When the surgery lamp came on, the disinfectant smell made me blank out for a breath.

Right then, I clearly pictured Luther at eighteen.

He always chose the front seat, back straight.

The neckline of his shirt was bleached pale, threads sticking out fine.

Once, he burned with fever and skipped class for three days. When I found him, he was hauling cement at a building site.

I slipped five thousand dollars into his backpack.

He chased behind me across three streets to return it, voice rough. "Classmate, Vera, please leave me some dignity.”

After that, I just "accidentally" carried extra breakfast, and "casually" loaned him review notes.

During the Winter Solstice evening, he held two baked sweet potatoes, stood out in minus ten degrees until dormitory lights-out, and once he saw me, the first line he spoke was, "Vera, can you wait for me?"

Years later, he rose from nothing until his company got listed.

He held me close the entire night, voice tight.

"In those times, I slept only three hours each day, scared I couldn’t stay beside you, scared you’d notice I needed a whole week just to manage one cup of coffee with you."

One day, when he visited my parents, the moment he spotted my dad in the living room, he finally realized.

The "Kelly" in Vera Kelly was the Kelly of the Kelly family.

Luther told me afterward, at that second, his thoughts were full of. "So the goal I chased with everything I owned, couldn’t even touch your starting place."

After knowing my background, he became known for his harsh ambition.

He pushed himself near collapse to grab deals and funding, to squeeze into Phoenix high circles.

He later used ninety-nine thousand nine hundred ninety-nine gold roses to build a rose field to ask me to marry him.

Back then, what line did he speak?

He said the purpose of his life was to grow good enough for me.

As anesthesia faded bit by bit, a prick spread across my chest.

The affection Luther once gave me was grand and shining.

Sadly, it was quick to vanish.

Vows were only most lovely right when they were spoken.

The talk of “forever” didn’t last past seven years.

"Miss?"

I jolted awake, fingertips brushing the wet edge of my eye.

My chest ached endlessly.

The housekeeper spoke softly, "Mr. Campbell has come back."

Head lowered, the skin over my chest had been neatly changed.

Slightly pink, but smooth and clean, no sign left behind.

Luther walked in holding shopping bags, his face wearing that once-gentle smile.

He set the brand-marked bags aside and reached out toward my cheek.

"Vera, Faye crossed the line today."

"I bought you a fresh necklace. Don’t bother fighting her, okay?"

The surgeons had already gone; only a few guards stayed.

Luther noticed nothing strange.

He smiled while opening the jewelry case; the stones shone brightly. "I swear she won’t pull nonsense again."

When he said Faye’s name, even he didn’t hear the softness in his tone.

Quietly, I stared at him.

The Luther standing here wore a watch priced in tens of millions.

The shirts, once worn thin, now had pearl-like buttons.

Even the light gardenia smell on him matched the scent in Faye’s hair.

Seeing the upscale air settled around him now, I suddenly recalled that Winter Solstice when he was eighteen.