"Marriage Scam, Money, a 'Water Master' Program, and a 'Little Ear' Substitute Met at a KTV" My best friend was scammed into marriage. The scammer came from a one-year, dubious master's program in the UK. He took out dozens of loans with skyrocketing interest, had a questionable relationship before marriage, and revealed his true colors afterward—all he wanted was money. She tricked him into getting pregnant; the baby is two months old. Now she only leaves him two options: 1. A negotiated divorce with a huge abortion and compensation. 2. An endless abyss of financial support. The woman's parents, along with the woman herself, are completely unfazed. Even when verbally abused at the dinner table, they remain silent and unyielding. My friend, who had just recovered from bipolar disorder, has relapsed. Yesterday, he invited a few friends to a KTV, and each of them ordered two girls. I suddenly noticed that one of the girls looked a lot like Little Ear, but with a rounder face, more revealing clothes, and a mixed air of innocence and sophistication. She was practically a dupe, though her makeup lacked the refinement of hers. Her legs were slightly dry, perhaps from too much washing after the encounter. After carefully examining her condition, I recommended she use SkinCeuticals moisturizing serum on her legs. My good friend ordered two more lively options. A smile played on his lips, but it couldn't hide the deep sorrow on his face. A silent laugh, accompanied by the irregular, distorted tones of his singing—he shed tears in the karaoke room. It was the first time I'd seen someone cry in karaoke, and the first time I'd seen pity in Xiao Mei's eyes. Looking back at the dupe, I, a married gentleman, didn't hug or touch her. I wasn't in the mood to sing either, just listening to another Xiao Mei with a husky voice singing old-fashioned songs that someone her age probably wouldn't enjoy. The dupe was quite proactive, putting her legs on me, which I quickly pushed away. Then, she quietly rested her head on me. She touched my hand and said I was even fairer than her. I asked her, "How old are you, miss?" The music was rather jarring; she probably didn't like the word "miss" and didn't understand what "how old are you" meant. I repeated, "How old are you?" She said she was born in 2006, 19 years old, a Taurus, and the Year of the Dog. I briefly told her about my friend's depression, and I asked her, "What do you want to do with the money you earn?" I assumed it would be the same old story: building a house for the family, paying for her younger brother's schooling, and paying for her parents' medical treatment. She answered, "I want to go to school." I gestured to Xiaomei, with her husky voice, to go get her mother's phone (the one Xiao Er used for her) and recommended a study abroad agency I knew. Even though she only had a junior high school education, it wouldn't stop the agency from getting her a one-year offer for a low-quality master's program at a diploma mill. I told her she could replicate this marriage scam. Go to school, present herself well, and marry a rich and naive good man. I said, "There's nothing wrong with striving to get what you want, even if it means using any means necessary; it's society that's wrong." She fell silent, then gripped my hand tightly. She asked if I wanted to go get breakfast with her after we finished singing, and then come to my place to rest for a while. I refused. I just wanted to go back, take a good shower, get rid of the leather smell from the karaoke room and the secondhand smoke in the air, and then get some sleep.