My best friend and I married into the same wealthy family, becoming sisters-in-law. Shortly after, we both became pregnant. Our in-laws announced a million-dollar reward for whoever gave birth to a son. On the day I delivered, my friend, who had just undergone a C-section, came to my bedside and switched my son with her daughter. Twenty years later, after her son had caused a major scandal, she proudly declared in front of everyone, pointing at my academically excellent daughter: “Actually, this is my biological child!” I smiled and replied, “They say children often resemble their uncles. If your son shaved his head, he’d look exactly like your brother!” “Indeed, he is your biological son…” At the hospital room door, I saw a woman in a patient gown, hunched over and carrying a thick bundle. I quickly closed my eyes, pretending to be asleep. She entered, just as I expected. Even while enduring the pain from her C-section, she had come to switch our babies for the million-dollar reward. After she left, I looked at my fair-skinned daughter with love. Caressing her face, I whispered, “That scrawny, premature boy can go to whoever wants him.” Two hours later, my husband and in-laws arrived. My room was quiet, with only my husband, the nurse, and me present. Olivia’s room, on the other hand, was bustling with our in-laws, sister-in-law, and a crowd of relatives. My husband looked uncomfortable and tried to comfort me, “It’s okay, Emma. Our little princess has us, and that’s enough.” I patted his hand and said, “The surgery has left me weak. Since Olivia has the energy, let her entertain the guests.” That night, after running around switching babies and greeting visitors, Olivia suffered severe bleeding and was rushed back to surgery.
A year ago, shortly after I married into the wealthy family, Olivia would cry in front of me every day. She accused me of forgetting our promise to “stay friends even in wealth and success.” Seeing her strange, heavy makeup and exaggerated expressions, I remembered how she had cut ties with all our old classmates after marrying a nouveau riche man five or six years ago. I could only laugh it off and deny her accusations. To my surprise, within two weeks, she had hooked up with my gambling-addicted brother-in-law. When our in-laws disapproved, she got pregnant and forced a shotgun wedding. Her baby was due just a month after mine. Our in-laws were thrilled to have two pregnant daughters-in-law and announced the million-dollar reward for a grandson. I didn’t care much, as I hadn’t married my husband for his family’s wealth. I would be happy with either a son or a daughter. Olivia, however, was obsessed. She consulted fortune tellers who all said she was carrying a girl. She spent a fortune on rituals to change her luck, but to no avail. All this stress led to her being hospitalized for a month to protect the pregnancy. As my due date approached, I noticed Olivia constantly staring at my belly. My maternal instincts kicked in, and I became wary. Sure enough, on the day my water broke, Olivia arrived at the hospital right after me. She insisted on having a C-section that day, claiming it was an auspicious date. After my daughter was born, I took the opportunity to switch her son with my daughter when no one was looking. So, the baby Olivia took was actually her own son.
On the babies’ one-month birthday celebration, the family mansion was decorated lavishly, with luxury cars lining the driveway and guests filling the halls. Olivia’s “little prince” wore a bright yellow traditional outfit, which only made his complexion look darker. My daughter wore a simple pink dress, prioritizing comfort. Our in-laws had arranged stacks of cash totaling a million dollars on a long table. Olivia’s family hovered around it, as if afraid someone might steal a bundle. I rolled my eyes. How petty, I thought. Everyone here is wealthy; no one cares about your measly sum. When my mother-in-law placed a palm-sized solid gold charm necklace around Olivia’s son’s neck, Olivia immediately removed it and insisted on putting it on my daughter. “Boys are tough; this charm would be better for Sophia,” she said, taking the hollow gold charm from my daughter’s neck. Everyone praised her for being so considerate. I played along, saying, “You’re so good to Sophia, someone might think she’s your own daughter!” Olivia hesitated for a moment, then looked at my daughter with affection. “Of course, we’re best friends and sisters-in-law now. I just adore Sophia.” I blocked her hand as she reached out to touch my daughter. “Olivia, your son is crying. You should check on him.”
When the children were two years old, they were playing in the courtyard. Hearing a commotion, Olivia and I rushed downstairs. Seeing my daughter’s face scratched and bleeding, I held her silently, my face grim. Olivia went berserk, slapping her son Tyler hard across the face multiple times. His face swelled up immediately, and he cried uncontrollably. Despite the beating, he reached out to Olivia, sobbing, “Mommy, hug me.” Olivia kicked him away, “You little bastard! How dare you hurt Sophia? I’ll cut off your hands!” Hearing this, my daughter started crying in fear. Olivia glanced at her and became even angrier. She grabbed Tyler’s head and shoved it into the swimming pool. “You worthless piece of shit! You deserve to be punished! If Sophia’s face scars, I’ll kill you!” She only let go when the boy’s little hands stopped flailing. Seeing him sink to the bottom of the pool, I quickly pulled him out. The child coughed and sputtered water after being rescued. Olivia held my daughter, comforting her softly. I snorted coldly. Was she trying to kill a two-year-old child for making a mistake? She thought this was my son, which is why she treated him this way. If my daughter had been in her care, she might have suffered an even worse fate. “Olivia, no matter what Tyler did wrong, he’s still your own son. You almost killed him,” I said. She didn’t even look up. “If he dies, it’s his bad luck. We can always have another one.” Her words proved true. She got pregnant again, this time with a boy.
Our in-laws were overjoyed, saying they’d give her a million dollars for every son she bore. “The more children, the more blessings,” they said. “Have ten if you want!” Because of this, she treated Tyler even worse. After all, she had already spent the first million dollars. She had used the money to pay off her brother’s gambling debts, but he had since accumulated more. Her mother frequently came asking for money, insisting that her brother was even dearer than her own son. Years ago, when she was dating rich men to buy her brother phones and computers, I had warned her. Being excessively devoted to her brother would only lead to loss. She accused me of trying to ruin her relationship with her brother and cut off contact with me. Now, she came crying to me about her family bleeding her dry to support her brother. I advised her, “He’s your brother. If you don’t take care of him, who will? I’ve heard debt collectors use brutal methods these days. If they come to your in-laws, they’ll be very unhappy.” Olivia’s monthly allowance was only a few thousand dollars, far from enough to cover her brother’s expenses. So she set her sights on having more children for the rewards.
When Sophia was eight and starting elementary school, she suddenly had to be hospitalized. The doctor said it was a severe allergic reaction. Olivia arrived at the hospital before me. When I got there, she was arguing with the doctor: “She’s allergic to mangoes! How can it be this severe? You incompetent doctors! Use the most expensive medicine!” “If she suffers any more, I’ll shut down this entire hospital!” A nurse tried to calm her down, “Ma’am, please don’t worry. We’ve already treated her. She’ll be fine soon.” Olivia shouted, “It’s easy for you to say! What if it was your daughter lying there?” The doctors and nurses fell silent, not wanting to argue further. I ran over, caught my breath, and patted the nurse’s shoulder. “I’m sorry, I’m the child’s mother. Thank you for your help. Please, go attend to your other patients.” The doctor who had been yelled at looked confused. “Then who is this lady?” I forced a smile, “She’s the child’s aunt.” The doctor and nurse looked at Olivia, then left with expressions that suggested they thought she was mentally unstable. As he was leaving, the doctor said, “Ma’am, our hospital has an excellent psychiatric department. If you’re often overly anxious or stressed, you might want to consider a consultation.”
After Sophia was discharged, she stayed home from school for a few days to recover. During this time, Olivia nearly turned the school upside down. She reported the principal and teachers to the education bureau, accusing them of allowing students to poison others at school. She even hired tabloid reporters to interview people at the school. Banners were hung all over the school grounds: “Unethical school endangers my daughter’s life!” “Corrupt principal allows poisoning and protects the culprit!” “Immoral teachers abuse students!” To fabricate evidence against the teachers, she beat Tyler until he was black and blue. She forced Tyler to tell reporters on camera that the teachers had beaten him. The incident, involving school food safety, caused a huge uproar. Tyler, covered in new and old bruises, was dragged by Olivia to kneel at the school gate every day. He looked completely dejected. Onlookers began to speak up: “The child looks so ill, why isn’t he in the hospital?” “These injuries are clearly fresh. How could the teachers have beaten him at home?” “Rich people are so dramatic. Instead of going to the police, they put on heavy makeup and block the school entrance in luxury cars.” More and more people accused Olivia of putting on an act. The situation only ended when I brought Sophia to the school gate. I had also called reporters to explain the whole story. Sophia was allergic to mangoes, and her classmates, unaware of this, had shared some mango candy with her. I admitted that we, as parents, should have been more vigilant and asked everyone to stop discussing the incident. I apologized for the trouble Olivia had caused the school. We also withdrew the lawsuit against the classmate and their parents, hoping everyone would let the children return to their studies in peace.
Our in-laws cared deeply about their reputation. After my husband told them about this incident, they showed no mercy to Olivia, despite her having given them four grandsons. During a family gathering, they made her kneel down and apologize for her behavior in front of everyone. Olivia was humiliated, and my husband was worried. “Will Olivia take out her anger on Sophia? After all, she did all this for our daughter,” he said. I assured him, “She won’t. Olivia loves Sophia too much to blame her.” She would be too busy worrying about Sophia to be angry with her. If anyone would face her wrath, it would be her own son. That night, we heard screaming and crying as she punished her child. Tyler cried the loudest, “Mom, I’m your son! Why do you always hit me because of my sister? I feel pain too!” “Shut up! Cry again and I’ll sew your mouth shut! You don’t deserve to say Sophia’s name!” Finally, our in-laws couldn’t bear it anymore and took Tyler away. They also canceled Olivia’s credit cards and forbade Daniel from giving her money. Olivia endured a couple of years of financial hardship. She harbored resentment and pestered Daniel constantly. When she gave birth to her fifth son, she was overjoyed, expecting another million-dollar reward. Our in-laws only gave her $200,000. “$200,000 is more than enough for having a child. From now on, you’ll have to pay for baby formula yourselves,” they said.
With less money per child, Olivia decided to focus on quantity. Over the next few years, she had three more children. The toll of multiple pregnancies and raising eight children left Olivia’s face wrinkled. She looked nearly ten years older than me. What little money she received went to support her family. Daniel had taken up with a woman in her twenties and rarely came home. Even if Olivia wanted to have more children, she couldn’t find anyone to help her. Everyone thought she would become depressed and bitter, sighing all day like a wronged woman. But surprisingly, she remained energetic and upbeat, even though she had raised her sons to be good-for-nothing. They were uneducated and spent their days either playing video games at home or causing trouble outside, living off the allowance from their grandparents. Some had even dropped out of school, and Olivia indulged them. People were confused by her attitude, but only I knew the truth. Sophia was now twenty years old and pursuing a graduate degree at a top university. Whether the family fortune went to the grandsons or the most accomplished grandchild, Olivia thought she would be the winner either way.
During the New Year’s Eve family gathering, Tyler burst in, panicked and out of breath. He had been drinking at a bar and took an intoxicated girl to a hotel. Now she had called the police, and he had rushed home. He knelt before his grandfather, begging the family patriarch to save his eldest grandson. “Grandpa, please save me! When I helped that girl out of the bar, she didn’t resist at all!” “Grandpa, don’t you have friends in the police department? This girl is falsely accusing me. Can’t you have her arrested instead?” His father, seeing his father-in-law’s face turning purple with rage, smashed his wine glass on Tyler’s head. Blood trickled down Tyler’s forehead as he crawled towards his mother, his 300-pound body barely moving. “Mom, save me! I’m your own son!” His brothers stood by with their arms crossed, watching the scene unfold as if their kneeling brother were an enemy rather than family. Olivia crouched down to wipe the blood from his face. “Tyler, you’ve caused such big trouble. Even I can’t help you now. With a criminal record… I hope it won’t affect your sister’s chances of becoming a civil servant.” Tyler looked at her in disbelief. “I might go to jail, and all you care about is Sophia?” Their grandfather exploded in anger. “Enough! Olivia, look at the son you’ve raised! Take him to turn himself in right now. As far as we’re concerned, we never saw him today!” “And you, we don’t want a daughter-in-law like you in our family anymore. When you get back, divorce Daniel and leave with nothing!” Olivia panicked. She grabbed Sophia, who was sitting next to her grandparents, and before anyone could react, she blurted out: “Dad, I’m not the one who should leave. Tyler is Michael and Emma’s son. Sophia is my real daughter!”
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