After I Was Bound by A Farm Stay App System I Went Viral

An employee blasted me on TikTok, accusing me of not approving her wedding leave. Ainsley Castillo ranted, "Our marriage rates are low; birth rates are low. It's all because of toxic capitalists like you! You won't even approve my wedding leave. In your eyes, am I just a workhorse? Not even a person? I believed your nonsense about building an all-women company and a women-friendly workplace. Now your true bloodsucking capitalist face is showing!" The video blew up instantly, and countless young people empathized with her hardcore. They piled on online, cursing me, even doxxing me and sending razor blades. As the boss, I went live and confronted her head-on. "Sorry, but I can't approve her wedding leave. She can quit and go through labor arbitration, or sue me, but her wedding leave is out of the question." The live stream exploded in views that day. Among the supporters for her, some claimed to be lawyers, offering to sue me pro bono. But Ainsley looked troubled. "I just want my wedding leave. I never thought about quitting, let alone suing her."

“Sorry, but due to the holiday, we’re overbooked. Your reservation has been canceled. Here’s a fifty-dollar voucher as compensation.” The hotel front desk clerk handed me a voucher with a perfunctory tone. I looked at her coldly. Then, I looked at the man next to her, who had just arrived. He had not even shown his ID, yet the clerk respectfully handed him a presidential suite key card. “Why can he check in without even showing an ID? Meanwhile, my room, which I booked a full week in advance, was canceled without explanation. And all I get is a lousy fifty-dollar voucher?” The front desk clerk let out a scornful laugh as she walked up to me. “Because he’s Mr. Ludwig, the heir of Grandview Group! His family owns the entire hotel. Do you think it’s just a matter of one room? If he wanted the whole hotel emptied out tonight, we’d do it. Who do you think you are? “If you keep standing here causing trouble and getting in his way, I’ll have security drag you outside and beat some sense into you. Now, get out!” Two security guards stepped forward. They grabbed me by the hair and roughly pulled me toward the door. My scalp hurt badly from the pulling, and my clothes were wrinkled. The front desk clerk’s shouts trailed behind me. “Next time, stay in a motel. People like you can’t afford to travel on a holiday.” I looked at the hotel’s grand entrance. Instead of shouting, I let out a quiet, exasperated laugh. The heir to Grandview Group, huh? They probably did not know that their lofty heir was right in front of them, and that he was being humiliated by their staff. Since they refused to serve guests decently, only catered to people with status, and did not think twice about hurting and humiliating their other customers, this hotel might as well shut down.

I have transmigrated into this toxic romance novel for three years. The system tells me that as long as Kendrick Miller's affection level for me reaches 100%, I can finally go home. For the sake of returning home, I spend three years acting like a hopeless simp. One day, the system suddenly tells me to catch him cheating, claiming it is just a little game couples play to strengthen their relationship. It says, "Layla, Kendrick deliberately let you discover him at the hotel with his first love because he's trying to make you jealous! Men love seeing women fight over them! "Quick! Rush in and join them. Become part of their little game and his affection will definitely skyrocket! "Trust me, this is exactly what he's waiting for. He wants to see that you care!" Listening to the system's passionate encouragement, I gather my courage and shove open the hotel room door. But instead of gaining Kendrick's affection, I am met with his cold, disgusted gaze and a stack of cash thrown directly at me. He sneers, "Are you trying to get my attention with this stunt again? Take the money and get lost. Stop bothering me." To my humiliation, the security drags me out of the hotel unceremoniously. I am left crouched over in the rain, shivering from the cold. I wipe away my tears and exclaim, "I'm such an idiot! I let that stupid system trick me again!"

On my way to work, I came across a livestream from an influencer who posted about her relationship, tagged at my company’s location. She was talking about her office romance with the CEO of a major corporation. But wasn’t the CEO of her company my husband? I clicked on her profile and saw that it was full of wedding-prep posts. The man never showed his face, but his build looked almost exactly like my husband’s. So I left a comment in the livestream: “I heard the CEO of Gibson Corporation has been married for a long time. So what does that make you...?” The streamer muted me, then instantly burst into tears. “The internet isn’t lawless. If you keep spreading rumors and calling me a mistress, I’m calling the police.” Her fans immediately swarmed me. “You’re probably the other woman yourself. That’s why your mind went there.” “I checked her profile. She’s some woman in her thirties. She’s obviously jealous because the streamer is young, pretty, and has a rich, powerful boyfriend who dotes on her.” “The account’s brand new. She’s obviously just a troll.” I tried to say more, only to realize I had already been kicked out of the livestream, and my account had been reported until I couldn’t even log back in. I stared at the proof of our marriage in the drawer for a long moment. Then I raised my hand and smacked my sleeping husband awake. “Exactly how many wives are you planning to have?”

Right after I am done with a meeting, I scroll through social media and come across a warning post with my company's location tagged. The title reads, "Avoid this place! Anyone who comes here is a sucker. The company is so stingy that it can't even provide decent snacks." The photos show the Starbucks drinks and five-star desserts I just asked my assistant to distribute to everyone. I frown and tag everyone in the group chat, asking for suggestions about the teatime snacks. A Gen Z intern, Alice Grimes, immediately sends a voice message, "No offense, Ms. Knox, but these mass-produced desserts are full of trans fats. Even dogs wouldn't eat them. A good company would hire Kitchelin chefs to cook on-site. Now that's called having true respect for employees." I laugh in disbelief. My company spends 50 dollars per person on daily tea time, which is considered top-tier in the industry. So, I reply, "Since it's hard to please everyone, we'll cancel teatime from now on and convert it into a cash allowance for everyone." Less than five minutes later, there is a new update in the social media post. "Guys, you won't believe this. I made a reasonable suggestion, and the petty boss just cut our teatime perk! This is how a typical capitalist behaves. They can't handle any honest feedback."

I'm the type who has the urge to overshare my life with him. It can be anything, be it the flowers blooming by the side of the road, the unpleasant coffee I end up having, or the sunset I've seen when I'm on my way home from work. Heck, when I think of Edwin Howell all of a sudden, I can't resist texting him at all. His replies are always short and perfunctory, though I suppose they count as a form of response from him. Hence, over the past six months, I've relied on these cold-sounding yet present replies to give me enough strength to deal with the engagement party, go wedding gown shopping, and choose the wedding venue all by myself. Somehow, I've managed to hang in there till the week before the wedding. But five days before the wedding, I discover an AI program that's installed within Edwin's computer. It can categorize every single sentence that I've sent to Edwin and extract the keywords. Then, it'll draft the most perfunctory responses that will never go wrong. If I miss Edwin, the AI will reply, "Mm-hmm." If I feel aggrieved, the AI will reply, "Got it." When I try to vent my frustrations to Edwin, the AI will reply, "Don't make such a big deal out of it." It turns out that Edwin isn't the one who has been responding to my need to overshare. The thing is, he has been texting another woman nonstop in another private chat. They talk about anything and everything under the sun, from exchanging simple good mornings and good nights to asking, "What are you having for lunch today?" and "Do you wanna go to the beach someday?" Finally, I realize that Edwin isn't the silent type who keeps his love in. If anything, he's the flashy type who will proclaim his love anywhere, anytime. It's just that… his love has never been mine to have. As for me, I've finally made up my mind to stop spending my life waiting for a response that will never come.