In my past life, my sister insisted on going to the Peak District for an outdoor painting trip. Despite my concerns for her safety, I couldn’t change her mind, so I had no choice but to accompany her. Unexpectedly, we encountered two villagers who tried to force us back to their village. I fought to hold them off, allowing my sister to escape while I was knocked unconscious and taken away. I thought my sister, having managed to escape, would go to the police or tell our parents to come rescue me. But she didn’t. She was afraid of letting our parents know that my misfortune was because of her. So, while I endured humiliation in the depths of the forest, she continued to enjoy her once beautiful life, even receiving more love from our parents because of my disappearance. Years later, when I finally escaped and returned home, I found that my place had long since vanished. A life of illness caused me to die early in my childhood home. But then, I found myself reliving that day when she was about to set off on her painting trip.
“Artists cannot do without inspiration! Sitting at home will never lead to great works! You and Mum and Dad, with your business-minded ways, will never understand!” My sister, Lily Summers, clutched her easel in one hand and her train ticket in the other, defiantly shouting at me. “I’m not trying to stop you from going on your trip, I just think you shouldn’t go to such a remote place.” As I approached her, my previously resigned and indulgent expression suddenly darkened. Lily didn’t notice; she was still throwing a childish tantrum at me. “I’ve finally discovered a place no one has ever been to, and you want to stop me! You can’t stand the thought of me being better than you or becoming famous!” My heart trembled as I took in the scene before me: the youthful and shorter Lily, my own agile legs, and our somewhat old-fashioned home, all conveying one truth. I had returned to the very day my sister wanted to go on her outdoor trip! In my previous life, she had acted just as foolishly, insisting on visiting that desolate area. My pleas had fallen on deaf ears, and in the interest of her safety, I had to force her to agree to let me accompany her. Little did we know that we would soon encounter two locals. The greedy gazes of the two men shifted back and forth between Lily and me as they edged closer. I knew something was terribly wrong. I quickly handed my phone to Lily so she could call the police, while I relied on my limited martial arts skills to fend off the two men. But I was no match for the sturdy farmers, and in her panic, Lily couldn’t even make the call. I found myself pinned to the ground, desperately urging her to run. In that moment, Lily reacted quickly, clutching her easel, bag, and my phone before vanishing without a trace. At that time, I believed she had escaped, and we would both be safe. I fought desperately to stop the two men from pursuing her, only to be beaten unconscious. When I awoke, I found myself trapped in a dark, damp cellar. I couldn’t see anything, only hearing the scurrying of mice, the buzzing of insects, and the chilling laughter of men. I lost track of time in the cellar, but gradually, through the beatings, I learned to disguise and submit. Eventually, I discovered from those men that I had been imprisoned for four years. Four long years, with no one searching for me. I couldn’t understand why. Eventually, due to my extreme submission and my pregnancy, I was allowed to emerge from the cellar. Seven years later, seeing the sun again brought tears to my eyes, and I broke down sobbing. For I saw in the mirror a version of myself I had never known. My filthy, long hair, a swollen body barely covered in rags, emitting the same stench as those men while heavily pregnant. In the following days, under the strict watch of the villagers, I gave birth to child after child. Then, in a daily cycle of resignation, I finally found my chance to escape. I dropped my hoe, ignoring the sounds of my babbling children behind me, and sprinted through the fields taller than I was. Sharp stones cut into my feet, but I didn’t stop; thorny plants pierced my skin, yet I pressed on without slowing. At that moment, I selfishly thought I should have made this mad dash for freedom years ago. After successfully escaping, I encountered kind people in the town who provided food and drink and took me to the police, who then brought me to my parents’ new address. It was a grand detached house with a garden in a thriving city. The house was bright and sunny, with two housekeepers tending to their duties. My sister was barefoot on the lawn, arranging her paintings and occasionally flashing a cute smile at her wealthy boyfriend. But in an instant, that smile turned to panic when she saw me. She clearly hadn’t expected my return. Nor had our parents. After embracing me and weeping, they finally realized I was no longer the daughter they had once been proud of. By then, I was nearing middle age, had given birth to seven or eight children, and bore the weight of illness that made me appear older than my parents. Meanwhile, they had risen from the middle class to the upper class, and even Lily, who had little talent, had opened a small gallery and had a caring wealthy boyfriend. Everyone around me seemed to have a bright future and dignity—except for me. I pointed at Lily and revealed the truth to everyone, telling them how I had ended up in this situation, but years of harsh captivity had left me stammering and incoherent. No one believed me, or perhaps no one wanted to help. My parents continued to believe Lily’s story: that I had gone off travelling without being cautious and had been kidnapped. They thought I was now mentally unstable, which was why I was accusing her. A few days later, they decided to send me back to my childhood home. During holidays, they would only see me briefly, and I could only receive treatment for my illnesses at poorly equipped small hospitals. In the end, my parents tragically died in a car accident. I had no money for medical care. As my health deteriorated, Lily finally appeared before me. Lily, carrying the latest luxury handbag, had brought along the very family that had abducted me and the seven children I had given birth to. She urged me to go along with their ways, to love and be loved by them. Finally, she gleefully confessed, “Mum and Dad are proud of your business talent. They’ve only built their fortune using the resources you left behind. If they knew I was the reason you were captured, they would hate me forever. So, when I escaped, I knew I had to keep them from knowing the truth.” “But I never imagined you would be so clever as to return and expose my lies. Even though no one believes you, just thinking of my fiancé knowing I have a filthy sister like you makes me sick. According to the law, if Mum and Dad unexpectedly die, a portion of the inheritance would go to you! How dare you pollute my life so casually!” As she spoke, she forced my weak hand to sign a waiver of inheritance rights before driving away in her flashy car. I collapsed to the ground, wracked by pain and hatred, crying until my tears ran dry. Little did I expect that when I opened my eyes, I found myself back on the day Lily had insisted on going for her outdoor painting trip.
“I don’t care, I don’t care! I’m going! I have a feeling I’ll find a lot of artistic and life opportunities there!” Lily was still begging me. I snapped back to reality and asked with a semblance of a smile, “Really? Are you so sure?” Lily nodded, pulling out her phone to show me a strong male photographer’s profile, who had taken a stunning set of photos in the Peak District a few years back. He claimed the locals were very friendly, living a simple life far from modern society. Simple? I couldn’t help but snicker internally; it was likely just a façade of “simplicity” for strong men. Lily persisted, urging me to agree. “Just let me go! I have a feeling if I don’t go, I’ll regret it for the rest of my life!” I frowned at her words. “But I really can’t trust you to go alone.” Lily’s eyes sparkled with delight as she realized she had a chance. “You’re just worried you want to come with me…” I interrupted her, “Mum and Dad’s company has something going on today; I can’t go with you, but I can call a few of your friends from college. You’re all studying art; it would be safer for you to go together.” Over the years, I had seen through Lily’s jealousy; it was easy to push her toward despair. Sure enough, Lily’s expression changed, her voice rising, “I don’t want to! I didn’t go out with them during the last training, and their grades are better than mine; they must have laughed at me! I’ve finally found a place they haven’t been to; if I take them, I won’t stand a chance next time!” At that point, Lily’s determination was unwavering: “If you won’t go with me, I’ll go alone! The photographer said the locals are friendly, and if anything happens, I can ask for help. Just don’t tell my friends where I’m going! I won’t forgive you if you do!” With that, Lily ran out the door with her easel, pretending to be afraid I would stop her. I stared at the closed door, feeling defeated, and slumped to the floor, taking some time to collect myself.
I didn’t linger at home; instead, I put on my coat and took a taxi to my parents’ small business, which was still in its early stages. My father, not yet old and never one to show disappointment in me, smiled widely upon seeing me and invited me to sit in his office chair. “Just in time! Help me strategise; is this project worth pursuing?” My hands tightened, my fingertips digging into my skin. Sometimes, I had to admit a harsh truth: they didn’t love me as much as they loved Lily and her friends. Their affection stemmed from my talent for business and the connections I brought to the family company. If they truly loved me, I would at least have the freedom to have my own interests, like Lily, even without talent or excellent grades. “Penny for your thoughts?” Dad nudged me. “Have a look at this.” I glanced down at the tender document in my hands, nodding after a quick scan. “This is a blue-ocean project; I discussed it with a few of my university friends, and they say it has great potential. You mustn’t miss this one, Dad!” In my previous life, he had missed this opportunity, and years later, I returned to find him lamenting the loss. Mum, reviewing the accounts, looked up at me with satisfaction, and I smiled back. I had no intention of letting Lily get away with things, nor did I want them to be happy. I needed this company to pave the way for my future. Dad rushed out to instruct the team to get started, and I followed, giving them some useful direction. When I returned to my office, Mum came over with a smile and peeled a lychee for me. Just as she offered it to me, she suddenly asked, “Where’s Lily? Is she still lazing around painting at home?” I shrugged. “I took a nap, and when I woke up, I was the only one at home. I don’t know where she went.” Mum didn’t doubt my words, but her worry prompted her to reach for her phone to call Lily. However, Lily quickly hung up, refusing to answer. Perhaps she was afraid I would tell our parents, who were trying to bring her home. After a few more failed attempts to contact her, Mum sighed and sent a concerned text before shaking her head, saying, “I was going to ask her to come home early for dinner. Let her be; she probably won’t achieve anything, and it’ll be another outdoor painting trip to the mountains where she’ll just get eaten by mosquitoes.” I nodded in agreement with her assessment. Mum continued, “Later, I’m off to a spa with some friends, and your dad has a social engagement. Can you manage to eat something?” I didn’t care about the double standards; I just smiled at her. “Sounds good, Mum.”
Here’s the translation and localization of the provided passages into a natural and interesting British context: In my past life, my sister insisted on going to the Peak District for an outdoor painting trip. Despite my concerns for her safety, I couldn’t change her mind, so I had no choice but to accompany her. Unexpectedly, we encountered two villagers who tried to force us back to their village. I fought to hold them off, allowing my sister to escape while I was knocked unconscious and taken away. I thought my sister, having managed to escape, would go to the police or tell our parents to come rescue me. But she didn’t. She was afraid of letting our parents know that my misfortune was because of her. So, while I endured humiliation in the depths of the forest, she continued to enjoy her once beautiful life, even receiving more love from our parents because of my disappearance. Years later, when I finally escaped and returned home, I found that my place had long since vanished. A life of illness caused me to die early in my childhood home. But then, I found myself reliving that day when she was about to set off on her painting trip. “Artists cannot do without inspiration! Sitting at home will never lead to great works! You and Mum and Dad, with your business-minded ways, will never understand!” My sister, Lily Summers, clutched her easel in one hand and her train ticket in the other, defiantly shouting at me. “I’m not trying to stop you from going on your trip, I just think you shouldn’t go to such a remote place.” As I approached her, my previously resigned and indulgent expression suddenly darkened. Lily didn’t notice; she was still throwing a childish tantrum at me. “I’ve finally discovered a place no one has ever been to, and you want to stop me! You can’t stand the thought of me being better than you or becoming famous!” My heart trembled as I took in the scene before me: the youthful and shorter Lily, my own agile legs, and our somewhat old-fashioned home, all conveying one truth. I had returned to the very day my sister wanted to go on her outdoor trip! In my previous life, she had acted just as foolishly, insisting on visiting that desolate area. My pleas had fallen on deaf ears, and in the interest of her safety, I had to force her to agree to let me accompany her. Little did we know that we would soon encounter two locals. The greedy gazes of the two men shifted back and forth between Lily and me as they edged closer. I knew something was terribly wrong. I quickly handed my phone to Lily so she could call the police, while I relied on my limited martial arts skills to fend off the two men. But I was no match for the sturdy farmers, and in her panic, Lily couldn’t even make the call. I found myself pinned to the ground, desperately urging her to run. In that moment, Lily reacted quickly, clutching her easel, bag, and my phone before vanishing without a trace. At that time, I believed she had escaped, and we would both be safe. I fought desperately to stop the two men from pursuing her, only to be beaten unconscious. When I awoke, I found myself trapped in a dark, damp cellar. I couldn’t see anything, only hearing the scurrying of mice, the buzzing of insects, and the chilling laughter of men. I lost track of time in the cellar, but gradually, through the beatings, I learned to disguise and submit. Eventually, I discovered from those men that I had been imprisoned for four years. Four long years, with no one searching for me. I couldn’t understand why. Eventually, due to my extreme submission and my pregnancy, I was allowed to emerge from the cellar. Seven years later, seeing the sun again brought tears to my eyes, and I broke down sobbing. For I saw in the mirror a version of myself I had never known. My filthy, long hair, a swollen body barely covered in rags, emitting the same stench as those men while heavily pregnant. In the following days, under the strict watch of the villagers, I gave birth to child after child. Then, in a daily cycle of resignation, I finally found my chance to escape. I dropped my hoe, ignoring the sounds of my babbling children behind me, and sprinted through the fields taller than I was. Sharp stones cut into my feet, but I didn’t stop; thorny plants pierced my skin, yet I pressed on without slowing. At that moment, I selfishly thought I should have made this mad dash for freedom years ago. After successfully escaping, I encountered kind people in the town who provided food and drink and took me to the police, who then brought me to my parents’ new address. It was a grand detached house with a garden in a thriving city. The house was bright and sunny, with two housekeepers tending to their duties. My sister was barefoot on the lawn, arranging her paintings and occasionally flashing a cute smile at her wealthy boyfriend. But in an instant, that smile turned to panic when she saw me. She clearly hadn’t expected my return. Nor had our parents. After embracing me and weeping, they finally realized I was no longer the daughter they had once been proud of. By then, I was nearing middle age, had given birth to seven or eight children, and bore the weight of illness that made me appear older than my parents. Meanwhile, they had risen from the middle class to the upper class, and even Lily, who had little talent, had opened a small gallery and had a caring wealthy boyfriend. Everyone around me seemed to have a bright future and dignity—except for me. I pointed at Lily and revealed the truth to everyone, telling them how I had ended up in this situation, but years of harsh captivity had left me stammering and incoherent. No one believed me, or perhaps no one wanted to help. My parents continued to believe Lily’s story: that I had gone off travelling without being cautious and had been kidnapped. They thought I was now mentally unstable, which was why I was accusing her. A few days later, they decided to send me back to my childhood home. During holidays, they would only see me briefly, and I could only receive treatment for my illnesses at poorly equipped small hospitals. In the end, my parents tragically died in a car accident. I had no money for medical care. As my health deteriorated, Lily finally appeared before me. Lily, carrying the latest luxury handbag, had brought along the very family that had abducted me and the seven children I had given birth to. She urged me to go along with their ways, to love and be loved by them. Finally, she gleefully confessed, “Mum and Dad are proud of your business talent. They’ve only built their fortune using the resources you left behind. If they knew I was the reason you were captured, they would hate me forever. So, when I escaped, I knew I had to keep them from knowing the truth.” “But I never imagined you would be so clever as to return and expose my lies. Even though no one believes you, just thinking of my fiancé knowing I have a filthy sister like you makes me sick. According to the law, if Mum and Dad unexpectedly die, a portion of the inheritance would go to you! How dare you pollute my life so casually!” As she spoke, she forced my weak hand to sign a waiver of inheritance rights before driving away in her flashy car. I collapsed to the ground, wracked by pain and hatred, crying until my tears ran dry. Little did I expect that when I opened my eyes, I found myself back on the day Lily had insisted on going for her outdoor painting trip. “I don’t care, I don’t care! I’m going! I have a feeling I’ll find a lot of artistic and life opportunities there!” Lily was still begging me. I snapped back to reality and asked with a semblance of a smile, “Really? Are you so sure?” Lily nodded, pulling out her phone to show me a strong male photographer’s profile, who had taken a stunning set of photos in the Peak District a few years back. He claimed the locals were very friendly, living a simple life far from modern society. Simple? I couldn’t help but snicker internally; it was likely just a façade of “simplicity” for strong men. Lily persisted, urging me to agree. “Just let me go! I have a feeling if I don’t go, I’ll regret it for the rest of my life!” I frowned at her words. “But I really can’t trust you to go alone.” Lily’s eyes sparkled with delight as she realized she had a chance. “You’re just worried you want to come with me…” I interrupted her, “Mum and Dad’s company has something going on today; I can’t go with you, but I can call a few of your friends from college. You’re all studying art; it would be safer for you to go together.” Over the years, I had seen through Lily’s jealousy; it was easy to push her toward despair. Sure enough, Lily’s expression changed, her voice rising, “I don’t want to! I didn’t go out with them during the last training, and their grades are better than mine; they must have laughed at me! I’ve finally found a place they haven’t been to; if I take them, I won’t stand a chance next time!” At that point, Lily’s determination was unwavering: “If you won’t go with me, I’ll go alone! The photographer said the locals are friendly, and if anything happens, I can ask for help. Just don’t tell my friends where I’m going! I won’t forgive you if you do!” With that, Lily ran out the door with her easel, pretending to be afraid I would stop her. I stared at the closed door, feeling defeated, and slumped to the floor, taking some time to collect myself. I didn’t linger at home; instead, I put on my coat and took a taxi to my parents’ small business, which was still in its early stages. My father, not yet old and never one to show disappointment in me, smiled widely upon seeing me and invited me to sit in his office chair. “Just in time! Help me strategise; is this project worth pursuing?” My hands tightened, my fingertips digging into my skin. Sometimes, I had to admit a harsh truth: they didn’t love me as much as they loved Lily and her friends. Their affection stemmed from my talent for business and the connections I brought to the family company. If they truly loved me, I would at least have the freedom to have my own interests, like Lily, even without talent or excellent grades. “Penny for your thoughts?” Dad nudged me. “Have a look at this.” I glanced down at the tender document in my hands, nodding after a quick scan. “This is a blue-ocean project; I discussed it with a few of my university friends, and they say it has great potential. You mustn’t miss this one, Dad!” In my previous life, he had missed this opportunity, and years later, I returned to find him lamenting the loss. Mum, reviewing the accounts, looked up at me with satisfaction, and I smiled back. I had no intention of letting Lily get away with things, nor did I want them to be happy. I needed this company to pave the way for my future. Dad rushed out to instruct the team to get started, and I followed, giving them some useful direction. When I returned to my office, Mum came over with a smile and peeled a lychee for me. Just as she offered it to me, she suddenly asked, “Where’s Lily? Is she still lazing around painting at home?” I shrugged. “I took a nap, and when I woke up, I was the only one at home. I don’t know where she went.” Mum didn’t doubt my words, but her worry prompted her to reach for her phone to call Lily. However, Lily quickly hung up, refusing to answer. Perhaps she was afraid I would tell our parents, who were trying to bring her home. After a few more failed attempts to contact her, Mum sighed and sent a concerned text before shaking her head, saying, “I was going to ask her to come home early for dinner. Let her be; she probably won’t achieve anything, and it’ll be another outdoor painting trip to the mountains where she’ll just get eaten by mosquitoes.” I nodded in agreement with her assessment. Mum continued, “Later, I’m off to a spa with some friends, and your dad has a social engagement. Can you manage to eat something?” I didn’t care about the double standards; I just smiled at her. “Sounds good, Mum.” That night, I sat alone at home, unboxing a beautifully crafted cake I had bought, complete with a candle on top. I clasped my hands together, and after a few seconds, I blew out the candle. I didn’t wish for anything; I was simply grateful for this second chance at life. As I cut a slice of cake, the sweet flavour danced on my tongue. Just then, I heard wedding celebrations in the neighbourhood, and the sound of firecrackers seemed to cheer my new beginning. Having finished the cake, I checked the time and finally picked up my phone to call Lily, only to hear the message that her phone was switched off. I persisted, trying a few more times, while simultaneously dressing and calling my parents who were busy with their engagements, but to no avail; no one answered. Half an hour later, dressed and anxious, I stood on the street, waiting for Lily’s return. All the neighbours in the area witnessed my efforts.
Lily’s disappearance nearly drove Mum to the edge. At first, she thought Lily was just being wilful and would return in a couple of days. But after half a month, she could no longer deceive herself. I approached Mum, gently patting her shoulder in comfort. “Mum, don’t be too upset. Dad and I have already contacted the police; if there’s news, they’ll let us know.” Although I said this, with society as it was, finding a girl who voluntarily ran off to a remote place would be no easy task. Dad chimed in, “Exactly. Don’t worry too much; Lily usually takes off with some cash for a few days. She’ll probably be back before we know it. Don’t stress out, Summer; you’ve been working hard too. Don’t let her worry about her sister and the company.” Mum pushed me away, pointing a finger at me. “Tell me the truth. Did you two have a fight that day? If she hadn’t argued with you, why would she disappear for so long?” Disappointment washed over me. “Mum, how could you think that? If my sister and I had fought and she had run off in a panic, I would have told you! I love her just as much as you do!” Mum ignored my protests, her hands trembling as she did her nails. “If you loved her, you wouldn’t have let her disappear! Useless. You two don’t care about Lily! She’s only just in her third year at uni and hasn’t experienced the harshness of the world. What if a bad man tricks her?” I stood frozen, remembering how in my previous life, Lily mimicked my mother’s attitude when I had gone missing. Back then, Mum had said, “Summer’s too clever for anything to happen. Maybe she’s off with a boyfriend; your dad’s just worrying for nothing.” “To be honest, aren’t you more concerned about the company’s operations? Lily, don’t follow your dad’s worried face; you’ve both lost weight.” Heh. In the dead of night, I got up to get some water and noticed the study door was still ajar. I stood at a distance, quietly listening to their conversation. “Darling, I have to be honest with you. They’re both different to me. When I had Summer, I was forced by your mum, while with Lily, we were doing well, and I wanted to raise her like a delicate flower.”
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