After my parents died, the family went bankrupt, leaving my brother and me with a large sum of debt. To pay it off, he became a haunted-house test sleeper, while I acted as a corpse on film sets. For five years, we worked tirelessly, not daring to rest a single day—and still, the debt wasn't cleared.

By the end of the year, only 13 thousand dollars remained. Gritting my teeth, I signed up as a clinical trial volunteer. When it was over, I dragged 13 thousand dollars in cash, brimming with joy, to show my brother.

But I found him frowning, on the phone.

"Dad, Mom, Lily's doing well. Have fun abroad," he said. "She's stopped spending recklessly. The punishment ends next year."

What? Our parents weren't dead? Our family wasn't bankrupt? The five years of hardship, every ounce of struggle—I'd endured it all as punishment for my love of spending.

My smile froze on my face. My stomach churned violently. A mouthful of fresh blood spilled out.

"Think carefully. Once you sign the contract, we won't be responsible for anything that happens."

That was what the pharmaceutical company staff told me during the clinical trial. He had repeated it many times: the contract we signed was legally binding.

After drinking the medicine, I'd be observed for five hours. If nothing went wrong, even if I died afterward, I couldn't hold them accountable.

At the time, all I wanted was to celebrate the New Year with my brother, so I signed without hesitation.

But now… looking at the cash in my hand, a wave of irony hit me. I raised a hand and wiped the blood from the corner of my mouth with my sleeve, then pushed the door open and stepped inside.

My brother hurriedly ended his phone call. When he turned, his eyes immediately caught the blood on my clothes.

"What happened?"

His expression shifted, and in a few quick steps, he was by my side, pressing my shoulders to check for injuries.

I gently pushed his hands away, keeping my tone casual. "Props blood from the set."

"Good… I thought you were hurt."

He let out a sigh of relief. Then his eyes fell on the bag of cash on the floor, and they sharpened.

"Where did this come from? Lily… you didn't steal this, did you?"

My heart sank. Suddenly, I realized how little I truly knew him.

Steal money. Was that how he actually saw me?

I clenched my fingers and, after a long moment, said softly, "The director gave it. New Year bonus."

He frowned, still doubtful.

"A bonus in cash?"

"Just say whether you want it or not." I glanced at him, irritated. "Wasn't there only 13 thousand dollars left on the debt? This covers it exactly. If you don't want it, I can give it back."

He paused, then finally put the money away.

"I'll pay off the debt tomorrow," he said.

Then he changed the subject. "What do you want to eat today? I'll cook."

I looked around.

A thirty-square-meter room, everything visible at a glance. A wardrobe, a bed, and a tiny bathroom. No kitchen—cooking meant chopping on the coffee table. The ten-dollar electric skillet had been used for five years and its wires had been burned out twice and patched up with black tape by my brother.

I asked suddenly, softly, "Shane… aren't you tired?"

He smiled and looked back.

"No, my work's actually easy. I just lie around. The main one who's tired is you. All these years… you must be exhausted."

What I really wanted to ask was: after pretending all this, aren't you tired? With billions in the family, you could live however you wanted. Yet you choose to live like this, punishing me… aren't you tired?

But he didn't understand.

Fine. I'd be blunt.

I looked him squarely in the eyes and asked, "Shane… do you think I like to spend money?"

I still couldn't understand what part of me was supposedly "extravagant."

Our family had money, sure—but I wasn't obsessed with luxury. Clothes, jewelry—I never spent more than a few hundred. Among the socialites in Halo City, I was considered odd.

Shane's expression stiffened.

"Why would you even ask that? You're much better now."

"What do you mean 'now'? What about before?" I pressed.

He frowned.

"When our parents were alive, you didn't understand saving. They built everything from nothing—they were farmers. Even I had to think before spending. But on your birthday, you'd beg them for gifts worth thousands. How do you think that looked?"

Anger flared in me and I took two steps forward.

"Our family is that rich—can't I buy a phone worth one thousand? What's the point of earning money then?"

He darkened.

"Listen to yourself. It's just a phone. What's wrong with any of them? You're just vain, always comparing yourself to those socialites. That's why you wanted this and that. After these past five years of having nothing, haven't you done fine?"

I stared at him in disbelief, my blood running cold. In his eyes, I'd done fine?

Every day I played a corpse, begging directors to let me take extra scenes just to earn twenty dollars more. Sometimes lying in mud, sometimes in a stinking ditch. More than ten hours at a stretch.

My old rival, Charlene Cooper, would see me struggling and seize every chance to humiliate me. I couldn't even fight back.

Just because I wanted to celebrate the New Year with my brother, I became a clinical trial volunteer—and to this day, I didn't even know the state of my own body.

Was that really "doing fine"?

My stomach twisted painfully as Charlene's words flashed in my mind, "Fool. This is all your own fault. I'll follow you anywhere—whatever drama you're in, I'll be there. My family can invest however they want to stick me in. For the next five years, you'll suffer in my hands!"

A chill ran down my spine. Five years—why five years? Could Charlene know something else? My gut told me my brother and the others were hiding more than I realized.

I clenched my fists, swallowing the urge to demand answers, and obediently said, "Okay… I'll change."

My brother put down the vegetables and gently ruffled my hair, satisfied.

"That's better. Eat on your own later. I have to go to work."

Once he left for work, I pulled on a mask and hat and quietly followed him.

After leaving the slum, he stopped by the roadside and made a call.

Within five minutes, a black Maybach pulled up in front of him. He got into the car.

I quickly hailed a taxi and tailed him. Half an hour later, he entered an upscale restaurant.

I slipped in five minutes later, sitting just behind him.

My heart pounded. I didn't dare look up, so I couldn't see who he was meeting. But when I heard the other person speak, my blood froze.

"Shane, I've been following your orders to 'train' Lily… and she's been doing very well lately!"

It was Charlene.

"Great," Shane said, his tone flat as if stating the most ordinary fact. "Only by suffering will Lily understand that money isn't so easy to earn.

"As a reward, I'll make sure your family's business gets extra attention. But Lily mustn't know this yet. After the New Year, when our parents return, I'll tell them myself."

My breath caught. My heart nearly stopped.

A waiter came by to take my order. I couldn't speak—I only trembled, pointing randomly at the menu. Then I signaled him to leave quickly, hoping my brother wouldn't notice me.

Charlene's voice came from the other side, soft and attentive.

"Shane, you told Lily you were testing haunted houses, but you were sneaking home every day. Aren't you tired? Why didn't you just go abroad with your parents back then?"

My chest heaved. A tidal wave of realization crashed over me.

So the haunted-house story my brother told me—it was a lie. He had been coming home the whole time, while I suffered alone. For five years, had I been the only one enduring hardship?

My brother sighed.

"Lily is my little sister. I couldn't leave her alone in the country. Besides, the company may have moved abroad, but it will return eventually."

He shook his head, a hint of nostalgia in his voice. "The five-year punishment we planned has flown by. Time passes so quickly."

Quickly? I let out a bitter laugh in my mind. For me, every single day of those five years had been torture.

Playing a corpse wasn't easy. Under Charlene's instructions, I was always placed in the most grueling, dirtiest scenes.

Wind, rain—it didn't matter. I couldn't move. Over time, my body grew weak. My periods came irregularly or dragged on endlessly. And in their eyes, it was just a punishment.

Ridiculous…

"Charlene, you've worked hard these five years too. Consider this a gift," Shane said as the conversation continued across the table.

He handed Charlene a delicate gift box.

She opened it and gasped, "What a beautiful diamond necklace!"

My heart sank into a pit of despair.

That necklace—the one I had pouted to my parents for five years ago. Back then, they didn't buy it for me. Too expensive, they said.

I had let it go, thinking it wasn't essential.

Now, it seemed that necklace had sparked my five years of punishment.

But why? Our family was so rich—why would wanting a necklace earn me five years of suffering?

And Charlene, whose family was less wealthy, could effortlessly get whatever she wanted?

Had I been disobedient? Naughty?

I'd been obedient all my life, never defying them. So why was I the one being punished like this?

Emotions overflowed. I couldn't contain myself any longer. I slammed my hand on the table with a loud bang and stood up abruptly.

All the diners turned to look.

Shane spun around, his face instantly pale.

"Lily… what are you doing here?"