In the late autumn of my sophomore year, plane tree leaves carpeted the stone path leading to the Scott Family's Villa. I stood outside the ornate iron gate, clutching the yellowed paternity test report, my knuckles white from gripping it so tightly.
The corner of the report had been rubbed so much it was creased, and the words "Probability of non-biological relationship: 0%" felt like a cold stamp, seared into my heart for a whole week.
Three months ago, when my foster parents were cleaning the attic, they accidentally discovered a half jade pendant engraved with the character "Scott" hidden inside the swaddling clothes I was wrapped in as a baby.
The pendant's texture was smooth and warm, with faint wear marks along the edges, clearly carefully preserved by someone.
Knowing how curious I was about my origins, my foster parents followed the pendant's clue, asking around, and unexpectedly it led to the local famous real estate tycoon Hector Scott, who, biologically, is my real father.
"Ms., do you have an appointment?" The security guard at the door wore a sharp black uniform and respectfully stopped me, his gaze carrying a faint, almost unnoticed scrutiny.
His eyes swept over me, from my faded jeans to the old canvas bag on my shoulder. The disdain in his look was like a thin needle, lightly pricking me.
Just as I was about to explain, a clear, mocking laugh rang out from behind, full of blatant superiority and as sharp as shattered glass: "Well, if it isn't Mia Shaw, the campus belle. What's she doing here as a visitor at our place?"
I suddenly turned around and saw Maggie Scott walking toward me, linking arms with a familiar figure.
Their fingers were tightly intertwined, the couple bracelets on their wrists sparkling in the sunlight, and their intimate posture was so glaring it made my eyes ache.
That guy was Finn Jones, my ex-boyfriend of six months, who had broken up with me just two weeks ago, giving the casual excuse, "We're not compatible."
Maggie deliberately shook her wrist where she wore a silver limited-edition bracelet, its links adorned with tiny star charms.
That was the gift I bought for Finn last month on my birthday, after saving two months' pocket money. Back then, he even smiled and said he'd wear it all the time. But now, this bracelet is actually on Maggie Scott's wrist.
"Looks like you still don't know, huh?" Maggie leaned close to Finn, her voice sickly sweet, "Finn and I are together now."
No wonderwhen you were chasing Finn back then, wasn't it all about throwing money at him?
Buying him a computer, clothes, and even staying up late to organize his postgraduate entrance exam materials, right?
Now that he's found someone he truly loves, of course he's breaking up with you.
Finn Jones's face flushed slightly, and the tips of his ears turned an unusual shade of pink, but he didn't deny Maggie Scott's words. Instead, he lowered his head and whispered, "Mia Shaw, we've already broken up. Don't keep bothering Maggie."
I looked at this so-called "perfect couple" in front of me and suddenly found it kind of funny.

Back then, Finn's family was struggling; his father was bedridden, and all of his tuition was covered by student loans.
I was afraid of hurting his pride, so I never dared to help him directly. I always came up with excuses, like, "A friend of mine has an unused laptop; since you're preparing for the postgraduate entrance exam, you can borrow it for now.""There's a sale at the mallbuy one, get one free on this jacket. It's too big for me, why don't you try it on and see if it fits?" He said he wanted to take the postgraduate entrance exam. I asked a relative who works at a university to get review materials from a top tutor, stayed up late organizing clear notes, and then pretended it was "something I found online" before sending them to him.
But now, he's standing with another woman, holding the money I gave him, and he's actually accusing me of "stalking."
"Stalking?" I raised an eyebrow, my voice rising a few tones without meaning to. "Finn Jones, last month you said you wanted to buy the new game console. I transferred you five thousand that very dayso why don't you call that stalking?"
Your mother was hospitalized, and the surgery fees weren't covered. I secretly fronted you 30,000 for the medical costs. Why don't you call that harassment?