Author: Momo Chan

I couldn’t believe it. My father-in-law had suffered a heart attack and urgently needed a transplant. By some miracle, the hospital had just received a matching donor heart. My mother-in-law and I were overjoyed, thinking this was a blessing from above. But as we prepared for the surgery, my husband Nathan, who had taken the donor heart, was nowhere to be found. When I finally got through to Nathan’s phone, I heard the voice of his ex-girlfriend Mia: “Nathan’s very busy preparing for my dad’s heart surgery! Don’t bother him!” My mother-in-law trembled with rage. On her way to confront Nathan, she got into a car accident and was critically injured. I begged Nathan to come back and operate on his mother, but he went into a different operating room instead. Both my in-laws passed away. Their bodies were donated for organ transplants. Later, I discovered that my in-laws’ organs had been given to Mia’s family members. “Doctor, my father-in-law is fading fast. He needs surgery immediately! Didn’t you tell us there was a matching donor heart available? What happened to it?” My mother-in-law and I pleaded desperately outside the doctor’s office, begging for news about the donor heart. The doctor looked at us helplessly for a long moment before sighing deeply. He wrote down a phone number and handed it to us. My mother-in-law and I stared at the familiar number in disbelief. It was Nathan’s phone number. My mother-in-law’s anxiety visibly eased. “I knew Nathan was reliable. He must have taken the donor heart early to make absolutely sure nothing went wrong. Don’t worry, Frank can hold on a little longer!” I hesitated. “But I just tried calling Nathan and couldn’t get through.” My mother-in-law smiled reassuringly. “I’m sure he’s just busy with something. He has a lot on his plate. Oh, I should go tell Frank the good news – his son will be here soon to save him!” She hurried off towards my father-in-law’s hospital room. But I had a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach. Nathan was the head cardiac surgeon at this hospital. If he had reserved the donor heart in advance, why wouldn’t he have told us? I tried calling Nathan again, but there was still no answer. I watched my mother-in-law chatting animatedly with my struggling father-in-law, her face full of hope. My heart grew heavier by the second. Clutching my phone, I couldn’t bring myself to enter the room. I leaned weakly against the wall outside. Suddenly, the heart monitor let out a piercing alarm. My father-in-law’s condition had worsened again. The smile froze on my mother-in-law’s face as she watched the doctors rush to resuscitate him. In a panic, I tried Nathan’s number one more time. Miraculously, this time the call connected. My mother-in-law stared at the phone expectantly. I quickly spoke into the receiver: “Nathan, your dad’s in the hospital. His condition is critical. You took the donor heart, right? Please bring it quickly! Your father can’t wait any longer!” But it was Mia’s voice that came through the line: “Nathan’s preparing for my dad’s surgery. He’s very busy! Anna, what are you playing at, calling him now? He’s working – don’t disturb him!” The call abruptly cut off. A horrible realization began to dawn on me. My mother-in-law’s voice was brittle as she asked, “What did Mia just say? Nathan is preparing for surgery…for her father? The donor heart…the heart…” Her hands began to tremble uncontrollably. I quickly grasped her hands in mine. “Mom, there must be some misunderstanding. I’ll go find Nathan and get him to bring the heart back. Don’t worry!” “Mom, please try to stay calm. Dad will be fine! You stay here with him, and I’ll go track down Nathan right away.” I grabbed my car keys and headed for the door. But my mother-in-law called out to stop me: “Anna, let me go instead. Nathan always listens to me. I’ll bring him back, don’t worry.” I was reluctant to let her go alone, but she smiled reassuringly. “Anna, you’re not as familiar with driving around the city as I am. Don’t worry, I know what I’m doing. I’ll bring Nathan and that donor heart back safe and sound. Frank needs me – he’s helpless without me, you know!” I still wasn’t comfortable with the idea and suggested she take a taxi instead. But my mother-in-law snatched the car keys from me, insisting she wanted to be prepared for any situation. I sighed in resignation and watched her leave. I had no idea this would become the decision I’d regret most for the rest of my life.

I stayed at the hospital and paid all the necessary fees, including for the upcoming surgery. The doctor was reluctant to process the paperwork, but I pleaded with him: “What if my mother-in-law really does bring the donor heart back? We’d need to start the surgery right away! I just want to be prepared.” The doctor relented and gave me the forms. But just as I had finished all the preparations, I received a call from the traffic police. My mother-in-law had been in a car accident. When I saw her, I broke down in tears. She had collided with a truck. A metal rod from the truck had impaled her chest, piercing her heart. The doctor explained that removing the rod would cause massive blood loss. Only Nathan had the skill to perform such a delicate operation in our city. None of the other doctors were confident they could save her if they tried to extract the rod. The doctor sighed heavily and looked at me. “I heard Dr. Song has another surgery scheduled today. We really have no way to get him back here in time.” Nathan! How could he do this? I watched in despair as my mother-in-law’s pristine white hospital gown became stained with spreading crimson. The sight filled me with utter hopelessness. My heart felt like it was being ripped to shreds. The pain was unbearable. Marrying Nathan had brought me the greatest gift – in-laws who loved and cherished me like their own daughter. They had given me the parental affection I’d been starved for since childhood. For the first time, I got to experience what it felt like to be part of a real family. And now, was fate going to cruelly snatch even this small happiness away from me? I clutched my mother-in-law’s increasingly cold hand, my mind reeling with fear and desperation. Where was Nathan? How could he abandon us like this? I tried calling him again. Once more, Mia answered: “What is wrong with you? I told you Nathan’s busy!” Before she could hang up, I choked out: “Nathan’s mom was in a car accident! Do you hear me? She was in an accident and needs Nathan to save her life!” I heard Nathan’s voice in the background: “Anna, there are other doctors besides me, you know. Why do you always have to drag me into everything? You’re being ridiculous.” “You just don’t want me operating on Mia’s dad. Why are you always so petty? This is my job, don’t you understand? Mia’s father needs me more right now. Our hospital has plenty of skilled surgeons – I trust them to handle things. Stop calling me!” “No, Nathan, listen! Your parents’ surgeries – you’re the only one who can do them! Please come back, they don’t have much time left!” Nathan scoffed. “Anna, your lying is getting worse and worse. First you said my mom was in an accident, now suddenly it’s both my parents? I’m losing patience. Don’t bother me again.” The line went dead. I stared at the blank screen, feeling like I’d been frozen solid. An icy chill spread from my fingertips holding the phone all the way to my heart, leaving me unable to breathe or move. I tried calling back, but the number was blocked. I glanced at my in-laws’ pale faces in the hospital room, wiped away my tears, and ran out of the hospital. I got the name of Mia’s father’s hospital from one of the doctors. I had to find Nathan and beg him to save his parents while there was still a chance.

“Mia, where’s Nathan?” I demanded, grabbing her arm. Mia shook me off in disgust, holding her nose. “Ugh, you reek of sweat. Get away from me!” “You’re like a bad penny, always turning up. I told you Nathan’s busy. Even if you tracked us down, you can’t take him away. Listen carefully – today is my dad’s surgery. If anything happens to him, you’ll be sorry!” “But Nathan’s parents need him too!” I shouted. “Nathan, come out here now! Your dad had a heart attack and your mom was in a car crash! You need to come with me right away!” A nurse rushed over to scold me for yelling in the hospital. I ignored her and kept calling Nathan’s name, searching frantically. Mia tried to restrain me, but I shoved her to the ground. As several nurses converged on us, I finally spotted Nathan. I grabbed his arm and tried to pull him towards the exit, but he yanked away from me. “Anna, I’m prepped for surgery! Your hands are covered in germs – you’ve ruined all my preparations! Stop making a scene. You’re embarrassing me, acting like a crazy person. How did I ever end up married to you?” His words stung, but I refused to let go. Tears streamed down my face as I pleaded, “Nathan, please come with me. Your parents are dying – they need you to save them!” The nurses tried to pry me away from Nathan. He sneered at me. “Anna, I made myself very clear on the phone. If my parents were really in critical condition, how would you have time to come all the way here? I deliberately scheduled Mia’s dad’s surgery at a different hospital to avoid your interference. I should have known you’d find a way to cause trouble anyway. When will you stop being so selfish and petty?” My chest constricted painfully, like my heart was trying to escape my body. I fell to my knees in front of Nathan, tears blurring my vision. “I swear I’m telling the truth. Nathan, please just come take a look. Your mom really was in a terrible accident. I’m begging you, come with me now before it’s too late!” Nathan’s expression softened slightly as he saw my desperation. He took a few steps towards me, his resolve wavering. I seized the opportunity and started pulling him towards the exit. “She’s lying!” Mia’s shrill voice cut through the air as she blocked our path. She thrust her phone in front of Nathan’s face. “I just checked the local news. There was a car accident in the city, but it wasn’t your mom, Nathan. And it was just a fender bender – no one was even hurt!” Nathan’s face fell as he glanced at the phone screen. He looked at me with bitter disappointment. “Anna, you lied to me again. You disgust me.” “Call security,” he told the nurses. As he turned to leave, I struggled and screamed, “Nathan, don’t go! I’m not lying, I swear! Please believe me!” Hospital security guards pinned me to the ground. I watched helplessly as Nathan walked away. Mia leaned down and whispered venomously in my ear as she ground her heel into my fingers: “How the tables have turned, Anna. If your in-laws really were in an accident, I guess it was just their time to go. That’s what you get for having a daughter-in-law like you. I’m back now, and Nathan will be mine again. You’ve lost.” The police took me to the station for disturbing the peace. Tears streaming down my face, I fell to my knees and begged the officers to let me return to the hospital. My in-laws were still there, waiting for me.

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The third time I filed for divorce, my husband broke two of my ribs in a fit of domestic violence. After spending two weeks in the hospital, I returned home. Even the neighbors came to persuade me: “Couples don’t hold grudges overnight. It’s not easy for a man to make money out there…” I smiled and agreed, “You’re right. My husband is everything. I should always support him.” I started acting like a submissive wife from the old days, serving my husband hand and foot. Within a few months, my husband made a small fortune. Those relatives and neighbors who had advised me earlier couldn’t sit still anymore. When I filed for divorce for the third time, my husband knelt down in court, begging me to reconsider. He even used our 2-year-old daughter as leverage, saying that without me, he and our daughter couldn’t survive. The judge ruled that our marriage wasn’t beyond repair and dismissed the case, even though I provided a thick stack of evidence of domestic violence. That night when we got home, my husband grabbed me by the neck like a dog and slammed me against the wall in a fit of rage. Even as I lay on the ground with blood streaming from my head, he became more excited and continued to punch and kick me. “Damn it, you bitch! Didn’t I tell you never to mention divorce again?!” he yelled. “You dare to sue me again?!” His angry shouts accompanied the dull thuds of his fists and feet hitting my body. Our two-year-old daughter was too young to understand what was happening. She could only instinctively hear my miserable moans from the bedroom. She cried and knocked on the door. “Don’t hit mommy, daddy, don’t hit mommy…” Her crying and knocking irritated my husband. He angrily dragged our daughter into the room and threw her in front of me. “Ava, if you dare to talk about divorce again, I’ll kill her in front of you first!” I endured the pain and held our daughter in my arms. The commotion in the house attracted the neighbors. Seeing that things had “escalated,” my husband started slapping himself and crying, “I’m sorry, honey. I had too much to drink… I can’t live without you and Chloe.” He alternated between “self-harm” and kneeling to apologize. The neighbors who had gathered around started saying things like, “A man’s knees are worth gold. He’s already apologized. How can you, as his wife, still not know when to stop? Are you determined to tear this family apart?” Everyone loves to join in on the drama. Almost all the residents in the community squeezed into our home. After my husband’s apology, the neighbors started comforting him instead. Meanwhile, I, the victim of domestic violence with a bleeding head, was treated as if I deserved it. It wasn’t until after the neighbors “mediated” that they thought to call an ambulance to take me to the hospital. When they learned that two of my ribs were broken, I had a mild concussion, and multiple soft tissue injuries, they only said lightly: “Oh my, Jack, how could you hit her so hard?” “Men are stronger. He didn’t mean to hurt you. He just had a bit to drink.” “Rest well and recover. Once you’re out of the hospital, live your life properly. If you don’t provoke him, how could he hit you?” Ha, how ridiculous! Being abused by my husband somehow became my own fault. After being abused so many times, even my parents couldn’t be bothered to visit me in the hospital anymore. In this battle for self-preservation in marriage, I was forced to stand against everyone. It seemed that I could only quietly endure my husband’s abuse, unable to fight back or even “escape.” Otherwise, I would be seen as inconsiderate, airing out marital problems for everyone to see.

After staying in the hospital for two weeks, I had to leave early because my husband didn’t pay the extended fees. As soon as I returned to the neighborhood, a group of gossiping older women saw me and “caringly” surrounded me. “Couples don’t hold grudges overnight. It’s not easy for a man to make money out there…” “That’s right. In our generation, which woman hasn’t been hit by her husband? We’ve lived through decades like this. For the sake of your Chloe, just endure it.” They enthusiastically advised me one after another, saying it was for the child’s sake, and that all women get hit sometimes. I didn’t get angry. I smiled and agreed, “You’re right. My husband is everything. I should always support him.” “Look, on my way back from the hospital, I even bought a few pounds of pork ribs. My husband loves eating them.” I showed them the bag in my hand. “I need to go now. I have to get home and start cooking the ribs.” “Oh… it’s good that you can think this way.” They looked at me with expressions that seemed to wonder if I had been hit stupid. I slowly walked towards the apartment building, holding my left side. My ribs hadn’t fully healed yet, and even the slightest movement caused pain. “Has Ava been beaten into submission by her husband?” “I told you she just needed some discipline. Women become obedient after a few beatings.” I heard the older women talking behind me. It was hard to imagine that women themselves would say such things so matter-of-factly about other women. The sun was shining brightly, but I felt a chill deep in my soul that couldn’t be dispelled. I grew up in a family that favored boys over girls. I thought it was because my mom had two daughters before finally having a son that she particularly favored my brother. But now I realized that the whole society favored men over women. Even women themselves valued men more than themselves. … As I carried the pork ribs upstairs, my mother-in-law saw me and immediately slapped me across the face. “You worthless woman! Let me tell you, you’re not getting a divorce until you give my family a son or two!” “You think that $20,000 bride price we paid was for nothing? We bought you for our family. So what if my son beats you when he’s in a bad mood? It’s not like it’ll kill you!” My mother-in-law unleashed a torrent of abuse. My daughter hid in the corner of the sofa, wanting to come hug me but not daring to. When my mother-in-law finally tired of yelling, I forced a smile and apologized, promising to live a good life from now on and give the Wang family a healthy baby boy soon. Only then did my mother-in-law glare at me a few more times before turning to scold my daughter, calling her a money-losing burden and other insults. “Mom, go rest. I’ll start cooking the ribs. They’ll be ready when my husband gets home from work.” I turned and went to the kitchen. I didn’t talk back like I used to, saying that the $20,000 bride price was actually money I had saved up myself from seven years of working. There was no point in saying it. Even though we all knew that $20,000 was my own money. But once I married into their family, any money became theirs. I dropped out of school at 15 to work. My parents didn’t want me to continue studying and waste time, so they sent me to work in a factory. For the first two years, I sent most of my wages back home every month. Later, as I had more contact with the outside world, I met several girls who, like me, grew up in families that favored boys over girls. We slowly became aware and started sending less and less money home. I had a natural talent for painting since childhood. Although I couldn’t continue my studies, I still paid for adult art classes. Later, I worked part-time as an artist while keeping my day job, slowly saving up money. The first time I met my husband was at a coworker’s wedding. That day I had terrible menstrual cramps. Somehow he noticed and gently offered me a cup of hot water. It was the first time I felt the strange sensation of being specially cared for by someone. After that, it seemed like fate. We kept running into each other every few days. When my husband first started pursuing me, he treated me so well, like I was the most precious thing in the world. In the first half of my life, my husband was the person who treated me the best. I gradually fell deeply in love with him. During our dating period, we were inseparable. I truly believed I would live happily ever after for the rest of my life. When it came time to discuss marriage, my parents demanded a $20,000 bride price before they would agree. My husband said his family had just bought a house and didn’t have the money. He asked me to wait a few years. I couldn’t wait, so I took out my $20,000 in savings and gave it to him. I used my own money to marry myself. It was also because of this $20,000 that my parents later found out I had secretly saved money without telling them. They called me an ungrateful white-eyed wolf. Even when I was abused later, they didn’t lift a finger to help me and instead gloated and mocked me.

Around noon, my husband came home from work. As he walked towards me, I couldn’t help but tremble when he raised his hand. I heard him sneer. Forcing myself to overcome my fear, I glanced up at him. His face wore a smug, triumphant expression at seeing me shudder in fear of him. “Hehe, I’m not going to hit you,” he said. My husband was clearly in a better mood. He patted my head like I was a dog. In his eyes, I was probably no different from a dog that could be abused at will. What did it matter if I was battered and bruised? He didn’t have to pay any price for it. The second time he abused me, I called the police. That was the first time he kicked me in the stomach. The police came, but since there was no substantial injury, they just advised us a bit, criticized my husband, and left. My husband seemed to have gotten a taste for it, knowing he could hit me without consequences. He even searched online about domestic violence and looked for posts about abuse on forums. After learning that as long as he didn’t kill or permanently injure me, domestic violence was considered a family matter that even the police wouldn’t interfere with, he began to test his limits step by step. At first, whenever he was in a slightly bad mood, or if I wasn’t paying attention, he would slap me across the face at any time. People who have never been slapped by a man may not be able to imagine how heavy their hands can be. One slap to the face makes your head buzz, the pain numbing you for several seconds before half your face swells up red. My husband’s limits escalated from slapping to choking me, kicking my stomach, twisting my arms. I fought back once. The most extreme time, when he was hitting me, our daughter came to protect me and he accidentally kicked her. I went crazy and started scratching and biting him. He knocked me out cold with one punch to the head. After that, he seemed to think my life was worthless and his beatings became more and more vicious. The natural physical difference between women and men meant I couldn’t even fight off one of his hands. “What are you thinking about? What, still want to go to the police station to report me?” Seeing my expression change, my husband immediately grabbed my hair tightly. He raised an eyebrow and taunted me contemptuously. “I’m sorry, honey. Don’t be angry. I made the pork rib soup you love.” I endured the pain and forced myself to look up with an obedient smile. My husband snorted and told me to go serve the soup. At the dinner table, I picked out the best ribs for my husband’s bowl and ladled a bowl for my mother-in-law. “Let the money-losing burden gnaw on the bones.” In front of my husband and mother-in-law, I gave my daughter a piece of bone with very little meat. My daughter’s eyes filled with tears but she didn’t dare make a sound. I ladled myself a bowl of soup with no meat, just some vegetables. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw my mother-in-law give me an approving look. In the past, I always protected my daughter and went against her. Now she saw that I had finally “learned my place.” My husband, on the other hand, looked at me with some surprise for a while before picking up his chopsticks like a lord. I stood by like a servant, serving them dishes. … That night, my husband pressed himself on top of me. I controlled my facial expression and actively put my arms around his neck. “Mom said we should have a son soon…” My husband’s touch made me nauseous. He touched the place where he had broken my ribs and pressed down hard. “Ow!” My face contorted in pain, but my husband just laughed at my suffering expression. “It still hurts after more than two weeks? Are you faking it? Want me to feel sorry for you?” I nearly threw up. I endured the pain and kissed him to shut him up. It was like being violated by a dog – no, that’s an insult to dogs. My husband was in high spirits that night. Knowing my ribs hadn’t fully healed, he deliberately pressed on them during sex, getting more excited as I grimaced in pain. He tormented me for half the night before finishing. After showering, he came out looking at his phone and chatting with someone, an evil smile unlike a human’s on his face. I was drenched in sweat from the pain. When I came out of the bathroom after washing up, my husband was already asleep. I saw his phone on the bedside table and, on an impulse, picked it up and unlocked it with his fingerprint.

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After losing his job, my husband Ethan insisted on franchising a trendy bubble tea shop. I refused, saying our daughter Lily had leukemia and urgently needed money for treatment. To my shock, he immediately went and took out a high-interest loan, sneering at me: “I don’t believe she’ll die tomorrow.” “The bubble tea shop will make over $10,000 a day. In just two months, we can cure any disease!” A few months after opening, Ethan was raking in money. He sent countless large red envelopes to relatives who fawned over him, but wouldn’t spend a penny on our sick daughter, believing she was blocking his path to wealth. When his business was booming, he asked me for a divorce, saying, “If you hadn’t always held me back, I would have made it big five years ago. You were born to bring bad luck to your husband!” Without tears or fuss, I signed the divorce papers and left with our daughter, taking nothing else. On the day of the Consumer Protection Program, the trendy bubble tea was exposed for using a “deadly formula,” and my ex-husband was taken away for investigation on the spot. In court, he cried that he was wronged, “I was just a franchisee, I knew nothing!” But what he didn’t know was that I was the undercover reporter who took down the trendy bubble tea brand, and I had the purchase order for the “deadly ingredients” with his personal signature.

“You short-sighted woman! You’re only fit to be a coward all your life!” Jack slammed his chopsticks onto the table, pointing at me as he yelled. “Tom has made it crystal clear. An initial investment of $50,000, and we’ll break even in just three months!” “This is a guaranteed money-maker. If I wasn’t his cousin, he wouldn’t have let me in on such an amazing opportunity!” I tried to reason with him anxiously, “Jack, you’ve just lost your job. The severance pay is only $10,000, nowhere near $50,000.” “Besides, countless bubble tea shops have gone bust in recent years. How can it be a sure thing?” “Emma is still in the hospital. We need money for her treatment. I don’t agree with you joining this bubble tea franchise!” Seeing my refusal, Jack swept all the dishes off the table in a fit of rage. “When I married you, you were so down-to-earth. When did you become such a money-grubber?” “Yes, I lost my job, but that’s because the manager felt threatened by me and bribed other colleagues to give me low scores! If it wasn’t for him, I’d have been promoted by now, with my salary doubled!” “I don’t have enough money on hand, but if we mortgage the house, won’t that be enough?” Our daughter had leukemia and needed money for treatment, yet he not only called me greedy but also wanted to mortgage the house. I felt my heart sink to the bottom. “The franchise fee is $30,000, equipment costs $10,000, and rent plus renovation is another $10,000. If the bubble tea shop doesn’t do well, all this money will go down the drain!” I tried to make him see reason. “We absolutely cannot mortgage the house. If Emma’s condition worsens, this will be our last lifeline!” Jack let out a cold laugh, “My shop hasn’t even opened yet, and you’re already cursing it. You really can’t stand to see me do well, can you? Afraid I’ll earn more than you!” “She’s already cost us over a hundred grand, and she’s still not better. Isn’t that money down the drain too?” His words stabbed at my heart. After having our daughter, I became a full-time housewife. He never missed a chance to remind me that I didn’t earn a penny and only knew how to spend. But the truth was, before we got married, both the house and car were bought outright with my salary. He was the one who moved in with just his bags. Back then, he proudly boasted to all our relatives, “My Olivia is beautiful and capable. Marrying her is the greatest fortune of my life.” But since I quit my job, all his gentleness and consideration vanished, replaced by tyranny and bullying. I had endured all of this, wanting only for our daughter to have a complete family. However, I never imagined he would think the money spent on our daughter’s treatment was a waste. Jack’s face turned red with anger, “Let me tell you, Olivia, I’ve researched this brand thoroughly. It’s the newest trending franchise in our city.” “They use only pure tea and milk for their bubble tea. From 3-year-old kids to 80-year-old seniors, everyone can drink it. How can a bubble tea that appeals to all ages not be successful?” “Stop trying to stop me. Tom said he’d help me run it. I’m definitely joining this franchise!” With that, he stormed out, slamming the door behind him. Not long after, he posted on SnapChat: “All in!” The image was a loan contract. In our family group chat, messages kept popping up. Tom complained, “Sister-in-law, you’re just too timid. You don’t have my brother’s guts. You’ll never make money like this!” I couldn’t help but send a message, “All I know is that right now, my daughter needs money to save her life!” Jack’s reply came quickly, “I don’t believe she’ll die tomorrow.” “The bubble tea shop will make over $10,000 a day. In just two months, we can cure any disease!” The relatives in the group chat chimed in, each supporting Jack, implying between the lines that I was overbearing and didn’t know how to support my husband. My in-laws even sent a voice message, cursing our daughter as a debt collector, not only causing her father to lose his job but also draining the family’s money for treatment. Looking at my daughter lying pale-faced in the hospital room, I couldn’t bear to read these heartless words anymore and turned off my phone. Since you’d rather take out a high-interest loan to open a bubble tea shop, I won’t try to persuade you anymore!

The bubble tea shop Jack franchised opened in just a month. He deliberately chose a location near an elementary school. Every day at dismissal time, students would rush into the shop to buy bubble tea. Because of the promotional slogans plastered all over the store, parents paid without hesitation. With low prices and claims of using only pure tea and milk, the shop’s turnover reached $500,000 in just a month of operation, with Jack guaranteed to pocket at least $100,000. At the celebration dinner, Jack proudly announced to the whole family that his business venture was a success, and he planned to become the city’s largest bubble tea franchisee in the future. My mother-in-law excitedly said, “I’ve always said that Jack was born with a silver spoon in his mouth. He was destined to be a big boss!” My father-in-law chimed in, “That’s right, Jack was never meant to be someone’s employee!” Jack smiled smugly, then looked at me with disdain, “It’s a pity some people don’t think so!” “People can’t earn money beyond their comprehension. She’s destined to be a poor wage earner, without any vision. All she knows is to cling to her measly earnings!” The relatives present all knew who he was referring to and looked at me scornfully, their eyes full of contempt as they sized me up from head to toe. Although I had long known they didn’t like me, I couldn’t help feeling hurt. “Now that it’s open, you need to manage it well. If…” I hadn’t finished speaking when I was interrupted. “There are no ‘ifs’! I can see you’re just jealous that I can make money!” Jack glared at me fiercely, “Your mouth never has anything good to say!” Being scolded in front of so many relatives, my heart turned cold. Tom stepped in to smooth things over. He took out his phone to show Jack, “Brother, this is my bank statement for one month.” “See? I didn’t lie to you! Opening a bubble tea shop is quick money!” Jack’s eyes widened, “How is your monthly turnover four times mine?” Tom smiled smugly, “I’ve opened three more bubble tea shops, and they’re all doing just as well. Of course I’m earning more!” “Let me give you some advice as your brother, the earlier you get in, the more you earn. Once others rent out all the good locations, you’ll only have regrets!” Jack furrowed his brow, deep in thought for a while. Then his eyes grew increasingly feverish, “You’re right, the earlier in, the more we earn. I’m going to open another shop!” “That’s more like it.” Tom smiled as he poured him a drink. Jack hadn’t even recouped his initial investment, and the high-interest loan wasn’t paid off, yet he was already thinking about a second shop. I felt uneasy. “This is too risky. If business isn’t good, with compound interest, the debt will keep growing. It’s better to pay off the loan first.” “When you’ve saved up enough capital for a second shop, then open one. There’s no rush!” As soon as I finished speaking, my mother-in-law splashed her red wine all over me. She angrily said, “When men are discussing important matters, you have no right to butt in!” “Didn’t you hear what Tom said? It’s guaranteed profit!” Jack looked at my disheveled state, his eyes devoid of any warmth. “I’ve already decided, and it’s not up to you to object!” “I’m the head of this family. You rely on me to support you, so you have no right to criticize me.” “Get out now. You’re not welcome in this family!” I looked at him in disbelief. I had merely advised him to consider carefully, yet he trampled on my dignity in front of everyone. My heart ached to the point of suffocation. I resolved never to ask him another word about the bubble tea shop. Over the next few days, I watched coldly as he sweet-talked relatives into giving him more money and franchised a second shop.

The hospital told me that Emma’s chances of recovery were high if she underwent a bone marrow transplant. Hearing this news, I was overjoyed. But the bone marrow transplant surgery required a large sum of money, and I had long since exhausted my savings from earlier years, leaving me in dire financial straits. Just as I was at a loss, my phone screen kept lighting up with notifications. When I opened them, I found that Jack was sending out red envelopes in the family group chat. He sent out over a dozen red envelopes, each containing $500. In just a few minutes, he had given away $5,000 or $6,000. The relatives in the group kept complimenting him, praising his generosity. Everyone was saying how generous and kind-hearted Boss Jack was, calling him the most successful person in the Lin family of this generation. But all I knew was that he was Emma’s father, and he should have stepped up when Emma needed money for medical treatment! I returned home from the hospital to find Jack already drunk. When I told him the news that Emma could be cured after surgery, he showed not a hint of joy, his expression very irritated. “When I wanted to join the bubble tea franchise, you didn’t give me a penny. Now that I’ve earned some money, you’re after it. I won’t give you a cent!” “I’ve opened another bubble tea shop and invested a lot of money. I don’t have any cash on hand now. You figure it out yourself!” I looked at him in disbelief. Emma’s surgery would cost only $150,000, much cheaper than opening a bubble tea shop. He had money to open another shop but was unwilling to pay for his own daughter’s treatment. Did he deserve to be a father? Disappointed, I left and called my best friend to borrow money. After learning about Emma’s situation, my friend transferred $100,000 to me without hesitation. She apologized, “That’s all I have on hand. Try to borrow more from others. Don’t delay Emma’s treatment.” With a mortgage and a child to raise, it was already a big deal for her to lend me $100,000. I felt deeply touched. For the remaining $50,000, I had no choice but to borrow from my parents. They had already given me a lot of money when Emma first fell ill. Having to ask them again made me feel very awkward. But my parents didn’t hesitate for a second and transferred the money right away. They even told me not to scrimp and save, and to take care of myself. I felt both moved and guilty. With this hard-earned money, I sent Emma into the operating room. But as I waited anxiously, my best friend called me. “I saw Jack with a woman inspecting the bubble tea shop. He even had the staff address her as the boss’s wife. The woman had a big belly, looked like she was pregnant!” “Jack said he was preparing to open his sixth branch, and then he wants to open even more, to dominate the bubble tea market in our city.” “Olivia, he has enough money to open a sixth store, his liquid assets must be at least a million dollars. He definitely lied to you when he said he had no money!” I gripped my phone tightly, feeling a surge of grief and anger. Not just because of his betrayal, but also because of his disregard for our daughter. Since you’re so heartless, I won’t show you any mercy! ———-This is the breakpoint———-

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The year I turned 24, I lost my family completely. To attend a concert, my sister stole the $60,000 I had painstakingly saved and bought scalped tickets at an inflated price. She knew full well this was my life-saving money for surgery. When I confronted her, my biased mother said, “She’s your sister. What’s wrong with using some of your money? Don’t be so calculative in a family.” Later, my sister ran off with my mother’s retirement savings, beating her so badly she was hospitalized. My mother then cursed my sister for being heartless, praising me as the best, saying she would rely on me for her retirement. I coldly rejected her: “That’s your daughter. What’s wrong with using some of your money? Besides, I don’t have a mother. Don’t claim false relationships.” “Early-stage stomach cancer. With timely surgery, it can be cured. Don’t worry too much.” “Young lady, don’t just work hard. Take care of your health too. You have a long life ahead.” The doctor’s advice fell on my dazed ears. My mind was filled with “stomach cancer”, “payment”, and “surgery”. When I came to my senses, I was already drenched in cold sweat. I knew how I got this illness. One word: poverty. Because of poverty, I saved desperately, wishing I could stretch one loaf of bread into three meals. Because of poverty, I worked tirelessly, wishing I could sleep at the office and work overtime every day. After two years of grueling work since graduation, I had finally saved $60,000 with sheer determination. Now, it was about to vanish, and I’d have to start from scratch again. My heart was bitter, my mouth sour. I slapped myself hard, forcing myself to stay strong as I called my mother. Surgery was a big deal, and I should at least inform my family: “Mom, I have something to tell you.” “You ungrateful girl! Has your salary been paid this month? If so, send the money home immediately. Your sister wants to buy new clothes. As the elder sister, you should volunteer to pay!” I swallowed the acid in my mouth, fighting the urge to vomit, and said bitterly, “Mom, I have stomach cancer. I need my savings for surgery. I don’t have extra money to send home.” There was a pause on the other end for a few seconds. Just when I thought my mother might show some concern, reality slapped me hard in the face. “How unlucky! You ungrateful money-pit! Looks like you’ve saved quite a bit in two years of work, only sending $3,000 home each month. Have you no conscience?” “Let me tell you, don’t expect the family to pay for your treatment. Your sister has been nagging about going to some concert recently but couldn’t get tickets. I’m trying to pull strings everywhere to buy tickets. Don’t bother the family with your trivial matters.” Then, “click”, the call ended. I forced a bitter smile. As expected, even my cancer surgery couldn’t compare to my sister’s desire to attend a concert. What was I hoping for? After all these years, I’m still so pathetic. I dragged my exhausted body home, collapsed on the bed, and recalled the bits and pieces of all these years. Tears soaked my pillow. I grew up in a single-parent family. My father died in a car accident early on, and my mother raised my sister and me. Life was tough. I felt sorry for my mother and was always the most sensible child in the family. But sensible children aren’t loved; it’s the crying children who get the candy. My mother could never treat us equally. I was the family’s beggar, while my sister was the little princess. All these years, I struggled, but I was still suffocated more and more by the shackles of so-called family affection. As I cried, I lost consciousness, seemingly having a beautiful dream where my father was still alive… When I opened my eyes again, I found myself lying in the hospital with an IV drip. Beside me was my best friend, Yolanda. Seeing me awake, she burst into tears: “You scared me to death, Penny! You had a fever all night. The next day, you didn’t go to work or call in sick. Your colleagues called you, but you didn’t answer. They went to your house and found you unconscious, so they rushed you to the hospital.” Then, with a trace of reluctance in her eyes, she continued, “Your colleagues called your mom and sister. They said…” She paused, “They said as long as you’re not dead, it’s fine, and then hung up. They couldn’t be reached after that, so they had to contact me based on your contact list.” I gave a bitter smile. My mother and sister were as consistent as ever. I told Yolanda about my stomach cancer and the need for surgery. She hugged me sympathetically, cursing my mother and sister for being inhuman! I shook my head. Forget it. After so many years, I’m used to it. I stayed in the hospital for two more days. Feeling better, I set a surgery date with the doctor and planned to pay the fees. But when I went to the payment window, I was shocked to find that my bank card linked to PayPal had a zero balance! This was impossible. I clearly had $60,000 in that card. I rushed home, but as soon as I arrived, I was dumbfounded. The house looked like it had been robbed, turned upside down. The bank card I kept in the drawer was gone, and even the little cash I had was swept clean.

I was about to call the police, but looking at the front door, I suddenly calmed down. This wasn’t a break-in; someone had used a key to enter directly. And the only person who had the key to my apartment and could do such a thing was just one person. My heart sank. I tremblingly took out my phone and dialed: “Ava Song, did you come to my house? Did you take my bank card?” A careless snicker came from the other end of the phone: “Yeah, it was me. Penny Song, you’ve been such a pushover for so many years, it’s about time you were of some use. I’ve already used your $60,000 to buy scalped tickets. I’m going to see my idol’s concert this weekend, third row in the inner circle. It’s going to be awesome!” I gripped my phone tightly: “Do you know how I saved that $60,000? How hard I worked for it?” “Do you know that $60,000 is my life-saving money for surgery!” “I know, Mom told me. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have known you were hiding so much money, Penny Song. You’ve got some nerve.” “Also, you’re really stupid. All your passwords are Dad’s birthday. It’s like you’re afraid people won’t guess it. The old man’s been dead for so many years, you should get over it. What, are you still feeling guilty about killing Dad? You’re so dumb. Bye!” Thinking of Dad, I collapsed on the floor. Is this really karma for what happened back then? If it wasn’t for buying me a birthday cake that year, Dad wouldn’t have driven out in the heavy rain, and he wouldn’t have died in a car accident. I wouldn’t have carried this guilt for so many years, enduring the exploitation from Mom and my sister. Looking at the mess in the room, my heart felt like a sour, soggy bun. Fighting the urge to vomit, I made one last call to Mom, hoping against hope that this wasn’t real: “Mom, my $60,000 was taken by my sister to buy concert tickets. Did you tell her about it?” “You ungrateful money-grubber! Looks like you’ve saved quite a bit in two years of work. You only give the family $3,000 a month. Have you no conscience?” “Let me tell you, don’t expect the family to pay for your treatment. Your sister has been nagging about going to some concert recently and couldn’t get tickets. I’m trying to pull strings everywhere to buy tickets. Don’t bother the family with your trivial matters.” Then “click”, the call ended. I forced a bitter smile. As expected, even my cancer surgery couldn’t compare to my sister’s desire to attend a concert. What was I hoping for? After all these years, I’m still so pathetic. I dragged my exhausted body home, collapsed on the bed, and recalled the bits and pieces of all these years. Tears soaked my pillow. I grew up in a single-parent family. My father died in a car accident early on, and my mother raised my sister and me. Life was tough. I felt sorry for my mother and was always the most sensible child in the family. But sensible children aren’t loved; it’s the crying children who get the candy. My mother could never treat us equally. I was the family’s beggar, while my sister was the little princess. All these years, I struggled, but I was still suffocated more and more by the shackles of so-called family affection. As I cried, I lost consciousness, seemingly having a beautiful dream where my father was still alive… When I opened my eyes again, I found myself lying in the hospital with an IV drip. Beside me was my best friend, Yolanda. Seeing me awake, she burst into tears: “You scared me to death, Penny! You had a fever all night. The next day, you didn’t go to work or call in sick. Your colleagues called you, but you didn’t answer. They went to your house and found you unconscious, so they rushed you to the hospital.” Then, with a trace of reluctance in her eyes, she continued, “Your colleagues called your mom and sister. They said…” She paused, “They said as long as you’re not dead, it’s fine, and then hung up. They couldn’t be reached after that, so they had to contact me based on your contact list.” I gave a bitter smile. My mother and sister were as consistent as ever. I told Yolanda about my stomach cancer and the need for surgery. She hugged me sympathetically, cursing my mother and sister for being inhuman! I shook my head. Forget it. After so many years, I’m used to it. I stayed in the hospital for two more days. Feeling better, I set a surgery date with the doctor and planned to pay the fees. But when I went to the payment window, I was shocked to find that my bank card linked to PayPal had a zero balance! This was impossible. I clearly had $60,000 in that card. I rushed home, but as soon as I arrived, I was dumbfounded. The house looked like it had been robbed, turned upside down. The bank card I kept in the drawer was gone, and even the little cash I had was swept clean.

I was about to call the police, but looking at the front door, I suddenly calmed down. This wasn’t a break-in; someone had used a key to enter directly. And the only person who had the key to my apartment and could do such a thing was just one person. My heart sank. I tremblingly took out my phone and dialed: “Ava Song, did you come to my house? Did you take my bank card?” A careless snicker came from the other end of the phone: “Yeah, it was me. Penny Song, you’ve been such a pushover for so many years, it’s about time you were of some use. I’ve already used your $60,000 to buy scalped tickets. I’m going to see my idol’s concert this weekend, third row in the inner circle. It’s going to be awesome!” I gripped my phone tightly: “Do you know how I saved that $60,000? How hard I worked for it?” “Do you know that $60,000 is my life-saving money for surgery!” “I know, Mom told me. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have known you were hiding so much money, Penny Song. You’ve got some nerve.” “Also, you’re really stupid. All your passwords are Dad’s birthday. It’s like you’re afraid people won’t guess it. The old man’s been dead for so many years, you should get over it. What, are you still feeling guilty about killing Dad? You’re so dumb. Bye!” Thinking of Dad, I collapsed on the floor. Is this really karma for what happened back then? If it wasn’t for buying me a birthday cake that year, Dad wouldn’t have driven out in the heavy rain, and he wouldn’t have died in a car accident. I wouldn’t have carried this guilt for so many years, enduring the exploitation from Mom and my sister. Looking at the mess in the room, my heart felt like a sour, soggy bun. Fighting the urge to vomit, I made one last call to Mom, hoping against hope that this wasn’t real: “Mom, my $60,000 was taken by my sister to buy concert tickets. Did you tell her about it?” “You ungrateful girl, are you obsessed with money? She’s your sister. What’s wrong with using some of your money? Don’t be so calculative in a family.” “Didn’t you say it was early-stage stomach cancer? I heard early-stage won’t kill you, at least you can drag on for eight or ten years. With such a long time, you’ll definitely save enough money. What are you panicking about? So useless!” Hearing this completely unapologetic response, I finally let out a desperate cry: “Mom! Why? Why are you so biased towards my sister? Am I not your daughter? Am I not your flesh and blood? Do you have a heart?” “In the cold winter, you made me wash clothes with cold water, my hands covered in chilblains, while my sister watched cartoons and ate sweet potatoes in the heated room.” “My clothes were always hand-me-downs that others didn’t want, while my sister could buy many new, pretty clothes every month.” “My sister ate meat while sitting, I licked meat scraps while standing.” “I got into a key provincial high school, but you said $8,000 a year was too much and didn’t let me go. I ended up in a regular high school, but you spent over $100,000 for my sister to attend a private school.” … I poured out all the grievances of these years in one breath, each sentence dripping with blood, each word falling with tears. But what did I get in return? A word of comfort? An apology? What I got was a “You’re crazy, I have to pack your sister’s luggage. Don’t bother me.” I hung up the phone, silently tidied up the house, and went to the hospital to tell the doctor that the surgery would be postponed for now. The doctor sighed, telling me to reconsider, and that he would keep my surgery date open. Grief beyond measure leads to a dead heart. I bid farewell to the doctor like a walking corpse. Just as I walked out of the consultation room, I bumped into someone. “Penny, is that you!” I looked up and saw it was Aunt Zhang, my father’s former colleague. She used to be close to our family, often visiting and bringing me candy. She was one of the few people who brought joy to my childhood. However, after my father passed away, my mother moved us, and we hadn’t seen her in all these years. Aunt Zhang noticed my poor condition. Upon learning about my stomach cancer, she angrily said, “How can Gwen be a mother like this? She promised me she would take good care of you sisters, that’s why I didn’t reveal the truth about your father’s death…” She seemed to realize she had said too much and abruptly stopped mid-sentence. A thunderbolt struck in my mind. I quickly grabbed Aunt Zhang’s hand and asked, “Wasn’t my father’s car accident because he went out to buy me a birthday cake?” Aunt Zhang looked shocked: “Of course not! That wasn’t the reason for your father’s accident at all. The real reason was your mother!” In the subsequent conversation with Aunt Zhang, I finally learned the truth about my father’s death in the car accident. I had been carrying the burden of my father’s death for so many years, allowing my mother and sister to exploit me, not daring to decisively rebel. I never imagined it was all a big joke.

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I received the news that my ex-husband had been in a car accident. My son knelt before me, begging me to take care of his father. For my son’s sake, I reluctantly agreed. My ex-husband recovered and was discharged, but I suffered a debilitating illness that left me paralyzed. Afterwards, my ex-husband ignored me completely, and my son left me to fend for myself. I died alone, hungry and in pain. When I opened my eyes again, I had returned to the day my son knelt before me. This time, I said: “Hell no!” Lying in the cramped storage room, I groaned in agony, my heart filled with regret and resentment. I regretted showing kindness to the ex-husband I had divorced twenty years ago. I resented my son for abandoning me. From outside, I heard my daughter-in-law’s voice, “Jason, I think it’s quiet now. Is she gone?” “It took longer than I expected,” my son Jason replied coldly. “Good riddance. The smell was unbearable – I couldn’t stand it anymore.” “If this went on any longer, the neighbors might have noticed,” Emily added. My five-year-old granddaughter Lily piped up innocently, “I want to play with grandma.” Emily brushed her off, “Oh honey, grandma is very dirty and sick right now. She can’t play with you.” She then instructed Jason, “Go check on her. I’ll take Lily to my mom’s place first.” The door clicked shut and silence fell. My fading consciousness was jolted back by another wave of pain. I couldn’t die yet. I needed to ask my son – had I not been a good mother to him? Why would he treat the woman who raised him this way? How could he be so cold and heartless? In the dark little room, the cold seeped into my bones as demons gnawed at my soul. What was that creaking sound? I forced my bloodshot eyes open, staring intently at the door. Whether from guilt or fear, my son hesitated for a long time before moving. Since becoming paralyzed, every day felt like an eternity. The only thing keeping me alive was my desperate need to confront my son. Suddenly, my body felt light as my consciousness plunged into endless darkness. I was not ready to go! When I opened my eyes again, I had returned to three years ago. My son was kneeling before me, pleading: “Mom, dad was in a car accident. His mistress not only abandoned him but also ran off with all his money.” “The doctors say he might not have much time left.” “Please have pity on him and go to the hospital to take care of him for a while.” I stood there stunned, then suddenly slapped him across the face. Jason held his stinging cheek in confusion. “Mom, why did you hit me?” I felt the slight numbness in my palm and flexed my limbs, delighted to find I could move everything freely! I scrutinized my son’s honest face, which seemed to have shed two or three years of age, no longer so smug and self-satisfied. A chill ran down my spine as I violently shook off his hands clinging to my legs and stumbled backwards. Jason looked at me in bewilderment. “Mom?” I snapped out of it and checked my phone. Unbelievably, it was now two years in the past. Looking again at my son kneeling on the ground, I realized this was exactly that moment. Jason kept trying to persuade me to take care of his father Robert. When I refused, he knelt and begged, playing on my sympathy while making grand promises. Robert and I had been divorced for 27 years. We split up because of his affair and emotional abuse – I simply couldn’t take it anymore. During the divorce, I worried he couldn’t properly care for our six-year-old son, so I fought hard for custody. For Jason’s sake, I didn’t tell him the real reason for the divorce. I just said his father and I weren’t getting along. After the divorce, I didn’t cut off Jason’s relationship with his father either. I have to say, while Robert wasn’t a good husband, he was a decent father. He paid child support on time and occasionally took Jason out, so they maintained a good relationship. In my past life, although very reluctant, I agreed to care for Robert when Jason knelt and begged me, given their close bond. Jason seemed unsettled by my strange gaze, but for his father’s sake in the hospital, he gathered his courage and pressed on: “Mom, dad only has us left now. We can’t abandon him!” I let out a cold laugh and slapped him hard again. “No way in hell!” Jason cupped his swollen face in shock. “Mom? Why are you hitting me again?” I grinned from ear to ear. “Because I’m happy!” Jason was even more bewildered. Without any explanation, I returned to my own room. This room became Jason’s study after I was paralyzed. How absurdly ironic! The house I bought for over $300,000 – when I became completely incapacitated, I was relegated to a storage room smaller than the kitchen. Looking back on my life, everything revolved around my son. When he was still in the womb, I quit my job to be a full-time mom. When he took his first steps, I was there to catch him. When he started school, I had to work hard to earn money while also helping with his studies. Finally, when he graduated college, I had a few years of respite before I started saving frantically for his wedding. After Jason got married, I thought I got along well with my daughter-in-law. Remembering how difficult my own pregnancy was, I took care of everything when Emily was expecting. I respected her wishes to keep working and personally delivered nutritious lunches to her office every day, attending to her every need. After Lily was born, Jason and Emily found her crying annoying. Emily didn’t want to breastfeed after her maternity leave. When my attempts to persuade them failed, knowing they both had to work every day, I simply took Lily into my room to care for her myself. Lily grew up healthy and beautiful. At three years old, she was an adorable little thing – everyone in the neighborhood would praise her when they saw her. I thought I had done more than enough as a mother, mother-in-law and grandmother. I had no regrets and owed them nothing. I let out a long sigh. In my past life, I was like a candle burning myself to light the way for my son’s family. Unexpectedly, I met such a tragic end. Now that I’ve been given a second chance at life, I believe it’s an opportunity from heaven. I’m no longer just a mother, mother-in-law, or grandmother. Although I’m 57 years old, I should still have my own life and be true to myself. As I pondered my next move in my room, Emily shuffled in. She smiled at me and sat down beside me. “Mom, Jason is being unreasonable. You and his dad have been divorced for almost 30 years. How can he expect you to take care of him now?” I kept a stern face and said nothing. Emily’s eyes darted around as she continued, “But dad is in really bad shape now. He’s 60 years old, bedridden and can’t move at all. His wounds look awful.” I didn’t respond, waiting to see how she would play this out. In my past life, Emily always had a sweet face but a bitter heart. She would coax people into doing things, taking credit while others did all the work. Seeing my silence, Emily played the sympathy card: “Dad only has Jason as his son. Now that he’s seriously injured and can’t move, Jason feels he must be by his bedside to fulfill his filial duty. Otherwise, people will talk and it won’t look good for us.” “But Jason has to work to support our whole family. He really can’t spare the time. Otherwise, I’d tell him to quit his job and take care of his dad himself.” Emily kept talking, hinting that I should volunteer to care for Robert. I rolled my eyes. “If Jason doesn’t have time, why don’t you go? You’re young and have more energy than this old lady. Besides, your salary is less than my retirement savings anyway, so it won’t make much difference if you’re not working.” Emily’s face tightened for a moment before relaxing again. “Mom, I’d love to take care of dad, but if I quit my job now, I’ll never find another one with weekends off and a $2000 monthly salary. Plus, Lily can’t be without me.” “I’ve always been the one taking care of Lily,” I said bluntly. “Enough said. I’m not going!” Emily’s lips curled up, but her eyes held no trace of a smile. “Mom, are you trying to make Jason lose his job?” I had painstakingly raised my son, helping him smoothly complete his PhD and pass the civil service exam. Now he was a mid-level manager, and according to him, he had a chance for a promotion to senior management this year. So he absolutely couldn’t have a black mark of being unfilial on his record. In my past life, I had considered his career prospects. Now I only cared about myself. Robert was his father, his responsibility. Why should I have to shoulder it? Oh right, my son’s filial piety was supposed to be demonstrated by me waiting on Robert hand and foot. But I still needed to play along for now. I couldn’t directly confront them yet. My retirement savings for this month had already gone towards household expenses. Thinking of this, I wanted to slap myself. How foolish I had been! Always assuming my son and daughter-in-law would take care of me in my old age, I had no real expenses myself, so I handed over my retirement savings as soon as it came in each month. Their salaries weren’t high – Jason made about $70,000 a year, while Emily made $2000 a month. Yet they insisted on buying a car beyond their means. Between the car payments and other expenses, the two of them were just breaking even before Lily was born. After Lily arrived, they started struggling financially. I couldn’t bear to see it, so I started contributing all of my retirement savings to help out. What a mess – not only had I used up all the money from selling my old house for Jason’s wedding expenses, I had also depleted all my savings. Now my monthly retirement income was gone too, leaving me completely broke. After a moment of silence, I suggested, “Why don’t you just hire a caregiver to look after Jason’s dad? Problem solved.” Emily didn’t even blink before replying, “That won’t work. A caregiver costs $80-100 per day. You have the most free time at home, so you can just go take care of him temporarily.” In my past life, I agreed too quickly. Look at how they’re treating me like free labor now. Emily must have realized her words sounded harsh, so she added, “Lily is about to start preschool, and we need money for everything. Dad’s savings were all taken by that shameless woman. The surgery and medical bills are a huge expense. We need to save wherever we can.” Emily tried to flatter me, “Every little bit helps, you know.” I pondered for a moment before relenting, “You have a point. I’ll go take a look.” Emily was overjoyed. She stood up and patted my shoulder, “You’re so kind and understanding, mom. You always see the big picture.” I silently scoffed to myself. She was good at sweet talk, but I hadn’t agreed to wait on my annoying ex-husband – I was just going to check on the situation. I held out my hand to Emily, who pretended not to understand my meaning and completely ignored me. I was truly fed up. “Emily dear, I’ll need some money to go to the hospital, won’t I?” Emily smiled brightly, “Mom, I’ll SnapChat you $100 later.” That’s right, my daughter-in-law controlled the finances for our family of four, being extremely generous only to herself. She bought new skincare products, makeup, clothes, shoes and bags every month. For the rest of us, especially me, she was incredibly stingy. In my past life, I was somewhat prepared for her refusal to pay for my medical treatment. What I never expected was that my son would also listen to her and not give me a single cent. I glared at her coldly, “$300. Send it now!” Emily tried to say some nice words to gloss it over. I stared her down, enunciating each word: “Send. It. Now.” Emily reluctantly took out her phone and sent me $300. After the transfer, she looked at me hopefully, “Mom, I’ll pack your things now.” I retorted, “Pack what? I’m going to ask the doctor what’s needed and how to provide care first.” Emily plastered on a smile, “Right, you’re always so thoughtful, mom.” I left the house with my phone and headed to the neighborhood activity center. A group of ladies I often babysat with surrounded me, eagerly fishing for gossip. “Lily’s grandma, we heard your ex-husband was in a car accident!” “Is it serious?” “What does your son plan to do?” “You should still go visit him, it’s the right thing to do.” These bored, retired ladies loved to spread rumors and had big mouths. In my past life, to build up my son’s image, I told them Jason wanted to quit his job to care for Robert, but I stopped him and volunteered to go myself. Thanks to their efficient gossip network, the news spread quickly, and my son was soon promoted to a senior management position. He even received an award from his department. Later, I worked with the doctors to help Robert recover enough to get up and speak. So I discussed with Jason about hiring a professional caregiver to look after Robert. First, I was exhausted from the constant night shifts. Second, a caregiver would be stronger and more skilled than me. Jason looked troubled and said his department promoted him specifically because I was personally caring for Robert. If I suddenly stopped, his superiors might think we were putting on an act and could revoke his position. He asked me to hang on a bit longer, until his position was secure, then he would immediately hire a caregiver. I was repeatedly manipulated by my son and daughter-in-law, along with the constant praise from these ladies. I was pushed onto a pedestal I couldn’t get down from. I gritted my teeth and cared for my ex-husband for two whole years until he recovered. Thinking of this, I casually dropped some information: “It’s pretty serious. He hasn’t woken up yet.” “My son and daughter-in-law want me to go take care of him.” “I’m almost 60 years old. Where would I get that kind of energy?” “I’m going to check on him now and plan to hire a caregiver. My son and daughter-in-law have never dealt with anything major before – they don’t think things through.” “A caregiver is both professional and strong. Is this really a place to try to save money?” One old lady chimed in, “I heard your daughter-in-law say you paid for all the surgery and medical expenses. There’s not much money left now. Where would you get the money for a caregiver?” I laid it all out, “Yes, my ex-husband’s mistress wasn’t legally married to him. When she saw how serious the accident was, she disappeared with all his savings.” The group was shocked by my sudden revelation, their eyes lighting up with excitement. I continued, “I paid for everything. I’ve spent all my retirement savings from the past few years on this.”

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Jack is my husband. I met him during my freshman year of college. He was the one who pursued me first. Four years of college, four years after graduation, a total of eight years. Before we got married, he said he would love me for a lifetime, and only me. After we got married, I heard he went to a nightclub while I was still heavily pregnant. I slapped him hard outside the operating room while supporting my pregnant belly. I even questioned whether the child inside was his. Jack said it wasn’t, he had just met her for the first time. I laughed coldly, “Oh, so you slept with her the first time you met? Well done, Jack.” His face darkened instantly. The doctor said the girl’s heavy bleeding was due to her pregnancy, but told us not to worry. The girl was fine, just the baby couldn’t be saved. Late at night, Jack and I stood outside the girl’s hospital room. I had calmed down by then. I watched him chain-smoking and frowned, saying, “Jack, what do you plan to do?” Before he could answer, I continued, “I told you before we got married, if you ever cheated, the house would be mine, the car yours, and I’d get all our assets after marriage. You’d be left with almost nothing.” I added, “The baby can’t stay with you.” The baby in my belly, almost ten months along now. Jack took a deep drag of his cigarette, looking very impatient. After a long while, he said, “Ava, the child can’t be born without a father.” I laughed, “With a father like you? Better off without one.” Jack seemed very sensitive to my sarcasm. He looked at me coldly, “Ava, watch your words.” I sneered, “Why don’t you watch yourself?” Jack refused to divorce me. He even called his mother from their hometown to persuade me. As soon as his mother arrived, she grabbed my hands and said all men cheat, even if I divorced Jack and married someone else, the next guy might cheat too. She went on about how excellent her son was, already making a six-figure salary. If I really divorced him, where would I find another man making that much, especially in my pregnant state? Listening to her made me sick to my stomach, strengthening my resolve to divorce. Back when Jack’s career was struggling, I supported him for years. When he wanted to start a business, I even used all my savings, including mortgaging the house my parents bought for me. Now that Jack was making good money, with our child about to be born, he didn’t mention redeeming that house or any of those things. It seemed he had forgotten who helped him get where he was today. Later, when I brought up divorce again, Jack argued with me due to disagreement and pushed me to the ground with one hand. I felt a dull pain in my abdomen. I went into premature labor. Due to fetal displacement, I stayed in the operating room for two days and two nights. I saw blood-soaked medical gauze changed again and again. I heard Jack and his mother shouting outside the operating room, “Save the baby! You must save the baby!” I felt more exhausted than ever before, like I had struggled to swim to shore, only to be pushed back into the water just as I was about to climb out. Extreme suffocation.

Perhaps God wanted to spare my life. Both the baby and I survived. The day I left the operating room, I saw my mother-in-law’s face fall when she heard it was a girl, muttering “money-losing burden.” Jack didn’t even glance at the baby, just lit a cigarette and left. I stared blankly at the hospital ceiling, constantly comforting myself. It’s okay, I still have my daughter. I slept in the ward for a day. When I woke up, my parents had rushed over from out of town. Seeing them, I felt a sense of relief. But tears kept flowing. I said I wanted to divorce Jack. My parents had already heard what happened. Seeing my haggard state, they supported my decision to divorce. When I called a nurse to take my parents to see the baby, the nurse looked surprised and said, “Your mother-in-law just took the baby out.” My face turned pale. I called Jack. He told me his mother was worried I’d be too tired caring for the baby, so she took her back to their hometown. My whole body shook as I tried to steady my trembling voice, “Jack, the baby is only two days old and very fragile. She can’t be exposed to wind. Please bring her back…” I heard his mother snort on the other end of the phone, saying sarcastically, “What’s there to be delicate about a money-losing burden? It’s not a boy. She’ll be married off sooner or later anyway. If she dies, she dies. Just have another one.” I had the call on speaker. Hearing my mother-in-law say such things, my parents were furious and wanted to drive over to confront them. But Jack on the phone didn’t panic. Instead, he laughed and said to me, “Ava, I still have feelings for you. Are you sure you still want to divorce me?” I didn’t understand why he was asking such an obvious question. Things had come to this point, how could I not divorce him? Suddenly, a loud “bang” came from downstairs. Soon after, I heard nurses shouting, “There’s been a car accident! We need help!” A chill ran down my spine, my heart turning ice cold. Based on the timing, my parents should have been in the car by now. I bit my lip hard, holding back tears as I said word by word, “Jack, if anything happens to my parents, I will never let you off!” Jack actually had the audacity to laugh. Fortunately, my parents were fine. The car had just started moving when the gas pedal was too loose and the brakes failed, crashing into the hospital wall. No one was hurt, except my dad’s leg got stuck and he’ll need a cane for the rest of his life. I didn’t tell my parents about this accident being related to Jack. They didn’t suspect anything either. I stopped mentioning divorce to Jack. Our baby was still with his mother in their hometown. Every day, I would receive videos of the baby from his mother. But my hatred for Jack only grew. I knew he was using our baby to threaten me, to prevent me from divorcing him. I hated him every day, hated how he pushed me to this point, hated that I had wasted eight years of my youth on this scumbag. Because of this, I learned that Jack didn’t want to divorce me because his company was competing for a partnership with a big corporation. His married status would help him stand out among other candidates. I didn’t want him to get this project at all. Especially when I found out the big corporation was hosting a banquet and invited us as a couple to attend, I wanted to sabotage it. But Jack seemed to know what I was thinking. As we got in the car, he casually said to me, “Ava, if you want to see our baby’s corpse tomorrow, go ahead and do whatever you’re planning.” He always knew how to hit my weak spots. He always knew. At the banquet, I naturally didn’t do anything rash. But I learned a lesson. If I didn’t get rid of this psychopath, he would control me for the rest of my life, and my child would always be in danger. I couldn’t just sit back and do nothing. Jack’s career was thriving, while I had become a tool he used to maintain his image in business circles. Looking at his increasingly smug face, I felt utterly disgusted. On one hand, I was looking for an opportunity to bring him down, on the other, I carefully avoided any resistance. After a while, I really found a breakthrough. Jack liked women. After I caught him, he became even more reckless. Few women could stay around him for long, but there were always exceptions. And this exception was a woman named Fiona. I didn’t know Fiona, but someone among my friends did. When I intentionally posted a photo of scenery from a shopping trip, someone recognized the woman in the photo as Fiona. My friend asked me, “Ava, how do you know Fiona?” Without waiting for my answer, she continued, “She’s the mistress of the CEO of Saint Corp. Any chance you could introduce us sometime?” Saint Corp? I remembered, that was the big corporation Jack had partnered with through my efforts earlier. I just didn’t expect Jack to be so bold as to get involved with the wife of his business partner. I casually replied to my friend that I didn’t know her well, but inside I was overjoyed. Because I had finally found a chance to deal with Jack. Jack was very cautious. I couldn’t gather much information from his side, so I started following Fiona. Fiona was a rich housewife. Every day, besides playing mahjong and getting beauty treatments, she would meet Jack at various hotels to have fun. Jack met her quite often, at least three times a week. I captured all those moments – hand-holding, kissing. While holding back my disgust, I carefully took more evidence, hoping for some other juicy details to emerge. Perhaps heaven heard my call. One day, I noticed something odd about Fiona. She didn’t go play mahjong or get beauty treatments. Instead, she went to a psychiatric hospital. That psychiatric hospital was famous in our city, specializing in patients with mental illnesses or confusion. I didn’t enter the hospital, just waited outside, timing how long she stayed. A full hour. Fiona stayed inside for a whole hour. I didn’t want to give up any leads and wanted to investigate further. But facing this heavily guarded psychiatric hospital, I knew that even if I barged in, I wouldn’t be able to find out anything. So I needed someone to help me, and that person had to be a professional. So I asked a friend to contact the most reliable private investigator in the city. A few days later, my friend introduced me to someone. He was expensive, but guaranteed results if he took the job. Jack controlled all my credit card transactions to keep tabs on me. Luckily, I had saved some secret funds. Though not a huge amount, it was enough to buy this information. So I said, “As long as your results satisfy me, I’ll pay whatever it costs.” My instincts told me that once I knew this secret, things would completely turn in my favor. Not long after, the investigator arranged to meet me. We met at a coffee shop. When we met, I was surprised by how young and handsome he was. He handed me a manila envelope and said, “The person Fiona visited at the psychiatric hospital is named Lily, a 21-year-old performing arts student. She was often with Fiona recently, and Fiona took very good care of her. Last month, she went to a nightclub and had an accident, then went to the hospital…” I already knew the latter part of what he was saying, because this Lily was the girl Jack had made bleed heavily that night. I glanced at Lily’s photo in the envelope and saw another piece of paper. Then I heard him say, “The CEO of Saint Corp has never had a son. A fortune teller read his birth chart and said he’d have a better chance with a young woman whose birth chart matched his. But Mr. Saint is old now and can’t perform, so they could only use IVF. The baby in Lily’s belly was actually Mr. Saint’s…” I didn’t need to hear the rest to know what happened. Lily lost the baby at the nightclub and no longer had any value to them, so Fiona put her in the psychiatric hospital.

I asked, “Is Lily really sick now or…?” The investigator shook his head, sounding regretful, “She’s already lost her mind.” Looking at Lily’s young, beautiful face on the table, I felt sorry for her. At such a good age, she should have had a bright future ahead, but now she could only stay in a psychiatric hospital. After getting this information, I went home, planning to use it to force Jack to return our child and divorce me. The CEO of Saint Corp was already in his sixties and had never had a son. The baby in Lily’s belly could be said to be his last hope. Jack had caused the loss of that child, so Mr. Saint must hate him. So I wanted to use this point to make Jack compromise. However, I didn’t expect that when I went to negotiate with Jack, Fiona was there too. When I laid out the evidence on the table, Fiona’s presence made me realize something was off. Since when had Jack and Fiona become so close that he’d bring her to our home? Just as I thought this, I saw Fiona pick up the evidence from the table and smile meaningfully, “So you really found out, huh.” I immediately sensed something was wrong. Fiona had already torn up the evidence I had worked so hard to gather. As she tore it up, she looked at Jack, “She already knows everything. Is there any point in keeping her around? If she goes to the old man and exposes us, what chance will we have?” My heart sank as I suddenly realized what was happening. Could it be that Jack and Fiona were in cahoots, and they had deliberately caused Lily to lose the baby?! If Lily’s child was really born, it would indeed be a threat to Fiona. Lily was young and beautiful, and she was carrying a son. With that, she could easily take Fiona’s place. But I never imagined they would intentionally scheme to make Lily lose the baby! These two monsters! Weren’t they afraid of karma?! I was furious at their actions, but Jack said, “You think Saint Corp’s deal was really closed because of you? The only reason I’ve kept you around until now is because of that insurance policy!” Jack and I had signed a contract before marriage stating that if one party died accidentally, the other would receive a huge accidental death payout. So that was his plan all along! I suddenly started shaking all over and turned to run! But Jack had anticipated this and worked with Fiona to knock me out! When I woke up, I found myself in a sealed wooden crate. It was tightly sealed on all sides, with only a tiny gap at the top where I could see outside. It was pitch black outside, with occasional shadows of leaves making me realize we were in some remote wilderness. Before I could fully react, the crate containing me was heavily set down, and someone knocked on the side. It was Fiona. She seemed to know I was awake and said to me, “You might as well reincarnate soon. Your husband doesn’t love you, your child isn’t with you, and you don’t even have any money to your name. What’s the point of living like this?” After saying that, she put me into a large pit. The sound of sand and dust hitting the crate told me she was trying to bury me alive. I struggled and cried out, wanting to see Jack. I couldn’t believe that after so many years together, our relationship meant nothing to him. How could he be so heartless as to want me dead? But I heard Jack’s voice outside saying, “Ava, rest in peace. In a few days, I’ll let our child come join you.” At that moment, my heart completely shattered. I kept kicking at the crate, trying to save myself, to escape. I desperately hoped that if I could get out, I would protect my child and make this evil couple pay for what they’d done! But the sand kept piling up thicker, and the air in the crate was getting thinner. I felt like I was about to die. But after who knows how long, suddenly someone tapped on the crate and pried open the lock. ———-This is the cutoff point———-

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The Third Year After My Death Three years after my death, my blind ex-boyfriend returned from abroad. He brought back the luxury car and million-dollar engagement ring I had once dreamed of. But he said he never loved me. He just wanted to see the regret on my face, thinking I was a gold digger. What he didn’t know was that the corneas he received three years ago were my final gift to him after I died from breast cancer. I saw James Foster again three years after my death. His limited edition Bentley was parked in front of my old, rundown apartment, nearly blocking the entire street. He stepped out of the car in an expensive suit, his eyes filled with arrogance as he looked down on my younger sister, who was still in college. “Where’s Lily Adams? Tell her to come out and see me,” he demanded. When he mentioned my name, a clear hatred flashed in James’s eyes. My sister, feeling indignant on my behalf, angrily replied, “Why are you back? My sister is already dead…” As he was an ex-boyfriend, she had expected James to be saddened by the news of my death. But James just let out a cold laugh. “That gold digger, is she regretting abandoning me and faking her death to trick me?” With that, James snapped his fingers, and a group of men in black suits swarmed into our cramped yard. Each of them carried a briefcase, which they opened in unison, revealing stacks of crisp bills. A rough estimate put it at about ten million dollars. Neighbors gathered at our door to watch the spectacle, murmuring in astonishment. “Back then, Lily rejected me because I couldn’t afford an engagement ring, and she cruelly abandoned me when I went blind. Now that my eyesight is restored, let her come out and see if she’s worthy of this ten-million-dollar ring!” James declared, arms crossed and chin held high as he stared at my sister. He continued, “Tell Lily, I will never forgive her for what she did, unless…” James’s threat was obvious. “She kneels down and begs me.” The onlookers began to whisper among themselves. “Ten million dollars for an engagement ring? That’s insane! She always seemed like such a nice girl, who would have thought…” “Come to think of it, we haven’t seen that girl in about three years. Did she run off with some rich guy?” These hurtful comments reached my ears, and I saw my sister’s expression darken. “I told you, my sister is dead. Now get out of here, I don’t want to see you,” she snapped. When I died, my family had spent almost all their money on my treatment. To leave something for my sister’s education, my funeral had been a simple affair. So most people didn’t know about my death. It was understandable that James didn’t believe it. I had said some hurtful things to leave him, but I loved him. I would rather have the man I loved hate me than spend his life in sorrow! Clearly, James enjoyed seeing me subjected to public criticism. After hearing those comments, he left, satisfied. The commotion quickly died down. I was relieved… If James had walked in a bit further, he would have seen the memorial tablet my sister had set up for me. My sister was still shaking with anger over those nasty comments. After everyone left, she went back inside, muttering to herself. “Sis, was this man really worth it?”

James’s blindness wasn’t congenital. He lost his sight as a child after being kidnapped. As the illegitimate son of the Foster family, with his mother long gone and his father always away, no one really cared about him, which delayed his treatment. Our meeting wasn’t exactly a fairytale. I was running a small flower shop at the time. He got lost and stumbled into my shop asking for directions. I guess you could call it love at first sight. In the sea of flowers, the handsome boy’s face was half-hidden by petals. Though his eyes were vacant, they couldn’t hide his noble air. I remember thinking what a shame it was that such a good-looking boy couldn’t see. Later, I was the one who pursued him. I figured there was nothing wrong with a girl making the first move. They say it’s easy for a girl to catch a boy, and James quickly surrendered to my advances. I found a sense of home with James, while James experienced being truly loved for the first time. The unexpected happened three years ago when I was suddenly diagnosed with late-stage liver cancer. Afraid that James couldn’t handle it, I made up an excuse to break up with him. I still remember the day we broke up. It was snowing heavily. James stood across from me. When I said, “I don’t want to be with a useless illegitimate son anymore. I want to find someone rich,” James bit his lower lip hard. “So all those promises about staying together forever were lies?” he asked. “Of course. I just thought you were good-looking and wanted to play around. Did you really think I liked you?” Those words were like a knife carving out his heart, and they hurt me just as much. The cold wind crept under my clothes. I gritted my teeth, clutching the medical report in my pocket, trying to keep my voice steady, but it still trembled. “Lily, I’ll talk to my dad about working at the company. Even though I can’t see, I’ll work hard to learn. Trust me, I’ll give you a future, please don’t leave me.” “A future? You’re blind, with no money or connections. How can you compete with your brothers and sisters? How can you give me a future?” “Let’s just end this on good terms,” I said, unable to look at James’s face. I was afraid I’d break down crying the next second, so I turned and walked away. But I couldn’t help worrying about James, so I secretly followed him. That day, James fell several times on the path that usually took only ten minutes to walk. It took him a full hour to get home. Each time James fell, my heart ached. I hated myself for not being able to tell James the truth, but I couldn’t selfishly let him suffer for the rest of his life. Now, as I floated above, watching James achieve success and fame, I felt a mix of emotions. My soul followed James. To my surprise, the second place James visited after returning to the country was the flower shop I used to run. The door hit the wind chimes, making a crisp sound. A young girl turned around to greet James warmly. It felt like a lifetime ago. That girl looked a lot like me when I was younger – pure and innocent. A wave of bitterness washed over me. This flower shop held all my beautiful memories; it meant so much to me. James carefully looked around. I don’t know if it was my imagination, but I saw James’s eyes turn red. “Can I help you with anything, sir?” the girl asked as she approached. James snapped out of his thoughts and apologized. “I’m sorry, we don’t sell irises here.” The girl noticed some irises in the corner and pointed at them. “Aren’t those irises over there?” “Those… are reserved for someone I love,” James replied. His cold and cruel tone sent chills through me. “But the business here looks pretty good…” his assistant remarked, surprised. James’s face showed annoyance. “This place is my shame. It must be destroyed!” My heart clenched. So James hated me this much.

In just a week, James bought the flower shop. He came in person to watch as bulldozers razed it to the ground. I stood at the shop’s entrance, stretching out my arms to try and block them, screaming desperately. “No! Please, don’t…” My voice grew fainter. I had almost forgotten – they couldn’t see or hear me. But James used to cherish this flower shop as much as I did. He cared for it no less than I did. Once, when some thugs came to collect protection money and I couldn’t afford it, they threatened to wreck the shop. Although James couldn’t see, he still stood at the door, vowing to protect our little shop that felt like home. The thugs beat him mercilessly. Even when he could barely stand, covered in bruises, he still shielded me and wouldn’t let them come near the shop. If the police hadn’t arrived in time, he might have been beaten to death. That night, as I tended to his wounds with tears in my eyes, I asked him why he was so foolish. James said, “This is where we met. I can’t bear to lose it.” I think at that time, James must have loved me deeply, protecting our memories with his life. How many times had others tried to destroy this place, and James had desperately protected it? But now, it was he who personally ordered it to be razed to the ground. I looked back at what was once called home, now just a pile of rubble. I collapsed to the ground. James’s face was hidden in the dust, his eyes cold as ice. A woman stepped out of the car, thoughtfully draping her coat over James’s shoulders. The woman was beautiful and elegant, dressed in designer clothes from head to toe. Standing next to James, they looked like a perfect match. “It’s just an old flower shop. Why did you have to come here in person?” she asked. I recognized her. She was Vanessa Thompson, James’s high school classmate, known as a social butterfly. How did they end up together? James seemed to rely on Vanessa quite a bit. I was shocked. Even though I was dead, I worried about James being deceived by such a manipulative woman. I hurried to follow them. In the car, James held Vanessa’s hand, looking somewhat tired. “Thank goodness I have you. You helped me find the cornea donor.” These words hit me like a thunderbolt, making my ears ring. Vanessa snuggled into James’s arms, smiling. “Silly, it’s because I love you. I’m not like Lily, who abandoned you when you needed her most.” At her words, a crack appeared in James’s previously calm expression. “Don’t mention that gold digger. She doesn’t deserve to be compared to you. She makes me sick.” The disgust in James’s eyes was obvious, sending a sharp pain through my heart. No, the corneas were donated by me. I clenched my fists tightly, my shoulders shaking. Vanessa chuckled softly. “Alright, we’re getting married soon. You’d better give me a romantic wedding.” Vanessa rested her head on James’s chest again. My mind went blank. James was getting married? To such a liar? I felt suffocated, staring at James in disbelief. Only then did I notice the diamond ring on his finger. A heartbreaking pain spread through my entire being. If I had known that the corneas I donated to James would be claimed by an imposter, I wouldn’t have died so quietly. But it was too late now. James absent-mindedly looked out the car window, gripping his phone tightly, his knuckles turning white. I could see that the phone displayed the last message I had sent him. [I wish you happiness.] That was the message I sent to James with my last moments of sight before donating my corneas. I had been following James for a long time now, so long that I had lost track of time. It seemed that after death, my sense of time had become vague. “Still haven’t found her?” James looked up at his assistant from his desk in the office, his eyes full of impatience. “I’m sorry, Mr. Foster. We’ve been searching for a week, but there’s no trace of Lily Adams,” the assistant said, hanging his head. “Useless! All of you are useless! How hard is it to find one woman? I refuse to believe she’s vanished into thin air! Keep looking! Even if she’s dead, dig her up from the grave!”

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I was working in the gynecology department when a young woman came in for hymen repair surgery. Her delicate face flushed with embarrassment as she timidly asked me, “Will anyone be able to tell?” I took a liking to her and advised her to be honest. “If two people can’t be together because of this, is there any point in continuing the relationship?” The young woman’s face turned an even deeper shade of red. “I had an accident while running. He says he likes me pure and innocent, and I want to do this for him.” Three months later, the young woman came back to see me. She was cradling her belly, saying she was already pregnant. Her eyes were brimming with happiness. Before I could offer my congratulations, her boyfriend called. “Honey, is the baby okay? Get ready, I’m taking you on a week-long trip abroad as a reward…” Long after the call ended, I couldn’t shake off my daze. The young woman waved her phone in front of my face. “Doctor, when there’s no love left between two people, that’s when there’s no point in continuing.” It was then that I realized. Her boyfriend was my husband. At a coffee shop, Tiffany ordered me a latte. “Iced, no sugar, right?” “Three years ago, you were the youngest surgical prodigy at First Hospital. You gave up your career to take care of your family and chose a less demanding department.” “But Emily, why do you have to do this? Parker doesn’t love you anymore. Why can’t you let go and find someone more suitable?” She held her head high, her pretty face showing not a hint of guilt or shame for being the other woman. Half defiant, half pitying. I took a sip of coffee, suppressing my anger. “You went to all this trouble to investigate me and approach me just to pressure me to leave?” Tiffany scoffed, “I just want you to face reality and stop clinging to Parker.” “He hasn’t touched you in a long time, has he? He’s already chosen a name for our baby.” In that moment, I had the urge to throw the scalding coffee in her face and scream at her! But what would be the point? It was a fact that she was carrying Parker’s child, and it was also a fact that my husband of eight years had been working late for six months straight, barely touching me. My tired face reflected in the glass window, time having taken away my youthfulness and left fine lines. I regretted my impulsive decision to accept her invitation to meet, hoping to learn more about this mistress. What did I have to compete with her for? If she wanted the cheating man, she could have him. “If you’re still not convinced, let’s make a bet!” Tiffany caught up with me as I was leaving, her confident face flushed with excitement. “The day after tomorrow is your 8th anniversary. Guess whether he’ll spend it with you or take me out?” As soon as she finished speaking, her phone chimed. Parker’s voice message was full of affection: “Honey, have you eaten? I know you love seafood, so I had some specially flown in for you…” I looked down at my phone. There was also a message from him. Just a few short words: “Working late, don’t wait up.” Only then did I realize that the happy marriage I thought I had was just an elaborate lie he had carefully maintained. At three in the morning, Parker came home, put down his briefcase, and tiptoed to the bathroom. “Why didn’t you turn on the lights?” My sudden voice startled Parker. Seeing me sitting on the couch, a flicker of panic crossed his eyes, but he quickly put on his usual gentle expression and came over to embrace me lightly. “Of course, I didn’t want to wake you, darling.” “You work during the day and do housework when you come home. I worry about you being so tired. If you don’t get enough sleep, you’ll get wrinkles and won’t be beautiful anymore…” So he knew about my efforts for this home. He was busy with work and had a mild case of OCD, so we couldn’t hire a housekeeper. I managed everything inside and out. For him, I gave up my career, transforming from a surgical prodigy to practically a housewife. Ironically, my womb showed no signs of life, while his mistress was already carrying his child. “If you prefer young and beautiful women, just say so.” He froze, his smile becoming slightly stiff and probing: “Why are you suddenly saying such things? Emily, I love you no matter what.” “You’re not sleeping now, is something bothering you? Do you want to talk about it?” Before I could respond, his phone on the coffee table suddenly lit up. A voice message came from a contact saved as ‘Sweetie’. Parker snatched the phone back almost instantly, making an excuse about “work stuff” and running to the bathroom. When he came out, he hurried towards the front door to change his shoes, barely concealing his eagerness: “Honey, there’s a problem with a big project. You go to sleep first.” “Once this busy period is over, I’ll spend more time with you…” Suddenly, I couldn’t remember the last time Parker had taken me out. The wedding photo on the wall emitted a soft glow. The house was still neat and orderly, and the study was almost overflowing with gifts Parker had given me, so I had put the more valuable ones in a bank safe deposit box. Everyone said our marriage was the model of a perfect couple. But now, all the warmth of the past was tainted with cold lies and betrayal, leaving me feeling chilled to the bone, almost unable to breathe! “Emily, looks like you’re going to lose~” “Parker has already booked flights for us to go abroad the day after tomorrow. He’s going to spend a whole week with me.” “Oh, and Parker won’t be coming home tonight. I told him my stomach hurt, and he rushed over here, worried about leaving me alone…” After reading the taunting messages from the mistress, I sat quietly until dawn. I remembered the first year of our marriage when I had an allergic reaction to peanuts and broke out in a rash. Parker rushed me to the hospital, not even frowning when he missed out on a $300 million project because of it. In our third year, when I passed out from exhaustion after surgery, he stormed into the hospital and berated the director until he was red in the face. But last year, when I had a fever of 102°F from the flu, he only sent a fruit basket and didn’t even visit me in the hospital. I thought time had made our love more subtle, less intense. Little did I know, he had simply transferred his love to someone else. “Darling, why are you up so early?” “I brought you breakfast, and look, I got you some new jewelry from the company. I had to really sweet-talk the board to get it for you~” Early in the morning, Parker returned with dark circles under his eyes and immediately presented a gift, his face showing the same adoration as always, without a hint of anything amiss. The more he acted like this, the colder I felt. I couldn’t tell how much of the past eight years was genuine affection and how much was pretense. “Why aren’t you saying anything? Emily, did you not sleep well? Do you want me to call the hospital and ask for a day off for you?” His face showed urgency as he gently felt my forehead. I resisted the strong urge to push him away and stared deeply into his eyes: “Parker, I’ve taken tomorrow off. Can you spend the day with me?” I wanted to know if our eight years of love could compare to his six months with Tiffany. I wanted to know if he could leave me with some dignity before the divorce. “Tomorrow… I really can’t reschedule tomorrow’s commitments.” Parker pretended to be troubled, holding me tighter: “How about the end of the month? I’ll take you wherever you want to go.” Seeing no response from me, he pouted innocently: “Darling, we have a long future ahead of us, why does it have to be tomorrow?” I froze, instinctively pushing him away and retreating two steps. Not only had he not chosen me. He had even forgotten! Forgotten our 8th wedding anniversary! My unusual behavior made Parker suspicious, but just as he was about to comfort me, he was called away by a phone call. Half an hour later, Tiffany sent me another picture of them together. I had loved Parker for eight years, giving him almost everything, only to be utterly defeated by the mistress! “Emily, I’ve dug up the background on that homewrecker you asked me to investigate…” My best friend sent me information about Tiffany. She was the illegitimate daughter of the Yang family, owners of a major corporation in the city. Although she had grown up separated from the Yang family, living with a housekeeper, she still had inheritance rights to 10% of the family’s assets.

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I spent three years in prison for my husband Adam’s company. When I got out, all I received was a $1 bonus check for the business opening. Just as I thought there must have been a mistake, I noticed the girl next to me, Lily, also only had a single dollar bill in her envelope. Putting aside my concerns, I happily accompanied Adam to complete the opening ceremony. But that night, I came across Lily’s Instagram post. She had shared a photo of a check: “Congrats on the big opening, boss! So generous with that $1 million bonus!” The comments were full of envy, congratulating her on her relationship with the “boss.” Not only did Adam fail to explain, he was quick to distance himself from me: “You just got out of prison, it’s not appropriate to go public. Let’s keep our marriage secret for now. Just call me boss in front of others.” Then he immediately liked Lily’s Instagram post. I wiped away a tear and called his arch-rival. “I’ll work for you from now on.” “You were willing to go to prison for three years for Adam’s business. Why the sudden change to work for me?” “I remember he promised to give you a department manager position when you got out. Are you sure you don’t want it?” I fidgeted with the $1 bill, letting out a bitter laugh. “Mm, I don’t want it anymore.” Just as I said that, Adam suddenly appeared in front of me, asking suspiciously: “What don’t you want?” I calmly hung up the phone and told the truth: “The department manager position.” Hearing this, a flash of relief crossed the man’s complex expression. “Good. I was planning to give it to Lily anyway. You can start as a clerk for now.” Hearing these words, I couldn’t help but frown. Back then, I endured three years behind bars for Adam’s company. He had repeatedly promised me that when I got out, the position would be mine and mine alone. Who would have thought that in the end, I’d become nothing more than a lowly office worker. At this moment, Adam was breaking the promise he made three years ago with his own mouth. But I couldn’t see a hint of guilt in his eyes. My eyes burned as an unstoppable pain flooded my heart. Seeing I didn’t respond, Adam took out a contract from his briefcase and tossed it on the coffee table. He said nonchalantly: “This is a secret marriage agreement, for the sake of the company.” The words “Secret Marriage Agreement” stung my eyes badly. Three years ago, the day before I went to prison, Adam and I got our marriage certificate. The only thing that kept me going was the thought of a happy married life after my release. But now, I had become something he was ashamed to mention. He even wanted me to disappear without a trace. I laughed bitterly to myself, picked up the pen without a second thought. Adam suddenly turned his head, frowning as he watched me about to sign. She who once couldn’t wait to announce this marriage to the world, how could she suddenly be so decisive? He instinctively grabbed my wrist, his words puzzling: “You’re not even going to think about it?” I didn’t even look up, signing immediately. Getting the secret marriage agreement as he wished, he fell oddly silent for a moment. After a while, he cleared his throat, his voice turning gentle: “Rachel, don’t worry. Once the company stabilizes, I’ll definitely make it up to you properly.” I responded with a noncommittal “mm”, just as the company WhatsApp group lit up. Lily had become the company’s first department manager, with all the employees offering congratulations. “You’ve been by the boss’s side these past three years, we’ve all seen it. This position is well-deserved!” “I think Lily will be the boss’s wife soon, right? We’ll have to get on your good side from now on.” Immediately after, Lily sent a shy emoji, tacitly accepting everything. “I still think Rachel is luckier. She went to prison for three years and can still be a clerk at the company. The boss really spoils her!” Knowing the truth, she was clearly mocking me. I struggled to look away from the screen, inadvertently catching Adam staring at his phone. The smile on his lips was a tenderness I had never seen before. It made me wonder. Was his secret marriage to me really for the company, or was it for Lily?

To fulfill the secret marriage contract, Adam moved from the master bedroom to the guest room. Besides that, he also made it crystal clear: I wasn’t allowed to ride in the same car as him. I couldn’t talk to him at the company, only call him boss. And his relationship with Lily was just an act, I wasn’t allowed to make a fuss about it. After explaining everything, Adam disappeared for three days. It wasn’t until I took a day off work with a fever that he bothered to call me: “You’ve only been working a few days and you’re already taking time off. Aren’t you being a bit dramatic?” “You’ll have to go to the hospital yourself. I’m still on a business trip, I can’t take you.” An expected result. I mumbled a vague “mm”. But just as I finished speaking, a coquettish female voice came through the phone: “Adam, my zipper’s stuck! Come help me quick!” Although Adam quickly hung up, I still heard the sound of his hurried footsteps. Looking at Lily’s Instagram again, she had already changed her profile picture. It matched Adam’s as a couple. I remembered when we were dating, I always pestered him to use matching profile pictures. But he always had countless reasons to refuse me: Too much trouble, childish, tasteless… I don’t know what came over him, but he started frantically texting and calling me. I only replied once: “This is my rest time, please understand, boss.” After finishing the IV drip, I returned to the company. My coworkers were as cold to me as ever, piling work on my desk. In their minds, I was probably just a lucky ex-con taken in by the boss. I should naturally take on more. I adjusted my mood and packed all the couple items from the storage cabinet into a black garbage bag. If I had known they would never see the light of day, I wouldn’t have worked so hard to bring them to the office. I was about to go throw them away when Adam unexpectedly returned. Before I could react, he angrily dragged me all the way to the stairwell. Seeing the garbage bag in my hand, the man’s face darkened: “You have time to clean up garbage but not to return my calls?” The strong perfume on him made me take a step back involuntarily as I said calmly: “I replied to your message.” Hearing this, Adam seemed to catch fire, demanding: “Why did you call me ‘boss’ on the phone?” What’s the difference between on the phone and in person? He was the one who told me to, so why was he upset when I did? Seeing I had no intention of explaining, he let out a cold laugh: “You know I don’t like willful women. You’d better not turn into someone I hate.” As he spoke, he snatched the bag from my hand and hurled it to the ground with all his might. Amid the thunderous crash echoing through the stairwell, he strode away. Looking at the shattered photos and couple mugs, my heart trembled. Just like our years of feelings would ultimately be broken to pieces. I cleaned up the fragments and called a lawyer to draft a divorce agreement. After getting the document, I printed a copy in the copy room. Just as I had mentally prepared myself and was about to knock, Adam opened the door first. Meeting his icy gaze, I calmly handed over the document: “Sign it when you have time.” But Adam didn’t even look at it, flipping straight to the last page to sign. Then he handed it back casually, instructing: “Come out with me for a business dinner later. Be smart and remember to help block the drinks.” I was puzzled – Adam could usually hold his liquor well, why did he need me to block drinks? Before I could ask, Lily bounced out from behind him: “Boss is so thoughtful! You even remembered I have a cold and can’t drink!”

Lily sat next to Adam wrapped in a blanket, her head resting directly on his shoulder. Seeing me, she frowned and complained: “The boss is just overreacting. It’s only a cold, but he won’t let me drink or go to work. If I hadn’t begged him, he wouldn’t even bring me to this business dinner.” Hearing her say this, Adam fondly tapped her nose. “I don’t care what you say. Just don’t cry when it’s time to take your medicine.” The two people before me were clearly a couple in love. His gentle humor was also a side of him I found unfamiliar. Clutching the divorce agreement in my hand, I felt oddly relieved. Arriving at the restaurant, Adam exchanged pleasantries with the business partners for a while. Then he stepped back and began introducing everyone. “This is Lily, our company’s department manager.” When introducing me, the partner’s boss frowned slightly. “I remember clearly, this young lady went to prison for owing money. Boss Adam, you really are loyal to old friends.” Adam tensed up, glancing at me before laughing it off in agreement. During the project discussion, Adam and Lily’s seats were pressed close together. He kept giving me looks, telling me to proactively help block drinks for Lily. At the table, someone noticed their intimate gestures and couldn’t help teasing: “Boss Adam and Miss Lily look so well-matched. I wonder if the boss is married?” As soon as the words fell, Adam looked at me, a flicker of hesitation in his eyes. The next second, we said in unison: “No.” Even though we gave the same answer, he abruptly turned his head to stare at me in shock. It wasn’t until the partners went to the restroom that he messaged me: “It’s all just an act, don’t take it to heart.” Adam said it was acting, but I was telling the truth. After all, he had already signed the divorce agreement. I glanced at the message and flipped my phone face down. Seeing this, Adam was about to get up and come over, but I turned and went to the restroom. Coming out of the stall, I ran into Lily. She stood with her arms crossed, clearly with a victorious attitude. “Rachel, you’re truly pathetic as a woman. To be so despised by your husband – if it were me, I definitely wouldn’t have the face to show myself in public.” I washed my hands nonchalantly, saying coolly: “That’s not for Miss Lily to worry about.” Drying my hands, I prepared to leave. But Lily darted in front of me, looking me up and down. “How can the boss’s wife still wear such rags?” “Oh I forgot, Adam must have spent all the money buying me haute couture. Sorry about that.” The expensive brands she wore seemed to constantly remind me of the difference between $1 and $1 million. In an instant, the bitterness that had built up in my heart exploded, and I fled in a panic. Back in the private room, I picked up my bag to leave. Adam hurriedly came over to stop me, his tone gentle: “Don’t go yet, I’ll take you home later.” I was about to refuse when Lily suddenly burst in crying. Instantly attracting everyone’s attention. Adam immediately let go of me and ran over to ask what had happened. Lily was frantically rummaging through her bag and all her pockets. Then she cried out in dismay: “My custom diamond ring is missing!”

As soon as the words left her mouth, everyone in the room started looking for Lily’s ring. While searching, she kept muttering: “This was a birthday gift from Boss Adam, worth over $3 million. I can’t bear to lose it!” Though I didn’t know what game she was playing, I just wanted to leave immediately. But just as I reached the door, Lily blocked me. “Rachel, let me check your bag. Otherwise you won’t be able to clear your name.” Whether or not I stole her ring, I knew the truth. “I’m tired. Miss Lily can look for it herself.” Seeing I was determined to leave, Lily actually grabbed my bag directly. In the struggle, the contents of my bag spilled all over the floor. And among the scattered items, there was indeed a sparkling large diamond ring. I stared at the ring in shock, suddenly meeting Lily’s provocative gaze. “Why are you framing me?” Turning around, I found everyone looking at me with contempt. Especially Adam, who frowned with disgust in his eyes. I instinctively tried to explain to him: “I didn’t take this!” But my explanation seemed so feeble in the face of the glaring “evidence”. Next, Lily picked up the ring and started crying even harder. “This ring means so much to me. How could Rachel steal it?” “I thought Rachel had reformed in prison, but I never expected she’d still do anything for money. I don’t dare work with her anymore…” Lily’s words made everyone’s expressions turn ugly. The partner’s boss spoke up first, breaking the awkward silence: “Boss Adam, let’s call off this deal!” With that, he stormed out of the room with his people. I wanted to chase after them to explain, but was met with a solid slap from Adam. Meeting my incredulous gaze, there wasn’t a hint of regret in his eyes. “I never thought you’d be the type to see money and lose your mind!” “I brought you out, not for you to steal things!” Adam’s words completely convicted me. Didn’t he know what kind of person I was? Had he also forgotten why I went to prison? Seeing the anger in his eyes, I knew he would never believe me. I could only laugh bitterly and hand him my phone. “Then call the police.” He looked down at the phone, then frowned at me again, still not moving. The long stare seemed to let me see through the man before me. After a while, Adam snorted coldly, “Ridiculous!” He turned around, helped Lily put on the diamond ring, and gently coaxed her to leave. In the room, only I remained, along with the mess on the floor. I picked up my scattered belongings and headed straight for the airport without hesitation. In the late night waiting area. I was about to draft a resignation letter when I received a dismissal notice from Adam first. His words were filled with anger: “Don’t come to the company anymore. Stay home and reflect on yourself!” Seeing his absurd demands, I couldn’t help but laugh bitterly. Without thinking, I sent him a photo of the signed divorce agreement. Along with the text: “Adam, I wish you and Lily a hundred years of happiness and growing old together!” “But first you need to get our divorce certificate, otherwise I’ll report you for bigamy.” After I sent this, Adam started frantically calling me like his life depended on it. This is the cutoff point I hung up on all the calls, so Adam sent messages instead: “Rachel, what kind of joke are you playing? When did I ever agree to divorce?!” “If you really think there’s something between Lily and me, then I’ll actually do something with her for you to see!”

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Jack’s dog was sick, and his wife abandoned their seriously ill son to go take care of it. I called her over and over again, but all I heard was my wife’s angry scolding: “Did our son die or did you die? Why are you calling? Buddy is very sick, I can’t leave him.” “I can’t be as heartless as you. Buddy is dying, how can I not care?” After saying that, she hung up and turned off her phone. The night our son passed away, I received a video from Adam. I was finally devastated and prepared our son’s funeral alone. But on the day of Tommy’s burial, my wife insisted on fighting for the burial plot I had bought for our son, in order to bury Adam’s dog. 0 Our son had leukemia. I took care of him day and night, nurturing him meticulously, but we still couldn’t overcome the illness. On a warm spring day, our son passed away. Before he died, he held my hand tightly and cried: “Dad, I want to go to the amusement park. I want to see fireworks. I don’t want to be alone.” After our son’s death, I arranged the funeral by myself. I found a burial plot for him near an amusement park and circus. Today is the day of our son’s burial. I held his ashes numbly. Olivia’s parents also rushed over. Her father, despite his age, was crying uncontrollably. “My poor Tommy! How could you leave us at such a young age…” “Grandpa didn’t even get to see you grow up!” He looked at our son’s photo with deep sorrow, sighing repeatedly. Everyone was dressed in black mourning clothes, looking solemn. Only Olivia’s mother had her eyebrows drawn and was wearing colorful clothes, without a trace of sadness in her eyes. Olivia’s mother had always looked down on me, and by extension, our son. She never visited him in the hospital. She despised my poor background and always thought I wasn’t good enough for her well-educated, beautiful daughter. It was Olivia’s father who agreed to our marriage, seeing that I was hardworking and kind-hearted. Olivia’s mother looked around, not seeing the person she wanted to see, and then walked straight up to me, displeased: “Where’s Olivia?” “I’ve been here for a while, why haven’t I seen her?” During the days when our son was seriously ill, Olivia had abandoned him to go find her ex-boyfriend. The reason was that their previously shared dog was seriously ill, and Olivia insisted on going to accompany it in its final moments. Adam even arrogantly posted on social media. He shared a photo of the three of them – him, Olivia, and the dog – with the caption: “From the beginning until now, mom and dad have been by your side the whole time.” Just yesterday, I even received a video from my wife’s ex-boyfriend. I watched expressionlessly as the two of them were intimately entangled. I thought I would be angry, but I wasn’t. Our son was gone, and I no longer wanted to deal with these rights and wrongs. I just wanted to quietly divorce Olivia after our son’s funeral was over. Seeing that I didn’t respond, Olivia’s mother pushed me again. “I’m asking you a question! Where exactly did Olivia go?” My mother thought I was overcome with grief, so she reluctantly answered for me: “Your precious daughter has gone who knows where. Her son is gone but his mother is nowhere to be seen. Even the funeral was arranged entirely by Jack.” I hadn’t told my parents about Olivia’s affair. If they knew the truth, they would surely cause a huge scene. Olivia’s mother was very displeased seeing my mother’s sarcastic tone. “Watch how you speak! What do you mean ‘gone who knows where’? You raised such a good son, who doesn’t even know where his wife went.” My mother, seeing Olivia’s mother’s arrogant attitude, didn’t hold back either and pulled me to ask: “Jack, everyone’s here today. Call Olivia and ask her what exactly she’s doing?” 0

I was about to open my mouth to make up some excuse to get by, when Olivia’s mother stepped forward and slapped me. “Why are you pretending to be innocent? Walking around with that dead expression all day, acting like you’re so wronged!” “No wonder Olivia doesn’t like coming home, having to see your face every day!” Looking at Olivia’s mother’s aggressive face, I really wanted to lay everything out in the open. But the words were on the tip of my tongue and I couldn’t say them. My parents were old and in poor health, they couldn’t handle the shock. And these past two days were my son’s funeral, I didn’t want to make the scene too ugly. Seeing my silence, Olivia’s mother continued: “Hmph! Can’t say anything, can you? Useless man, it’s obvious your family must have bullied my daughter a lot, that’s why she doesn’t dare come home!” Then she turned to complain angrily to Olivia’s father: “This is the good marriage you talked about! I was against it from the beginning, but you insisted on letting Olivia marry this kind of useless man! Now look what’s happened, our daughter is missing!” Olivia’s father really couldn’t stand her unreasonable nagging anymore and shouted at her in a low voice. “Enough! Olivia is a grown woman, how could she just disappear? Her own son has died and she doesn’t even come, yet you have the nerve to yell at Jack! I think Olivia is clearly in the wrong here.” Seeing that her husband wasn’t taking her side, Olivia’s mother was in an even worse mood. She looked at our sad and solemn faces, feeling angry. She took out her phone on the spot and said defiantly: “You cold-blooded people, if you won’t look for my daughter, I’ll do it myself!” She quickly dialed Olivia’s number and put it on speaker. After two rings, Olivia picked up the phone. “Mom? What’s wrong, why are you calling me?” Hearing the familiar voice, I smiled sarcastically. She doesn’t answer any of my calls, but picks up immediately when her mom calls. “Olivia, what are you doing? Why aren’t you coming home?” Olivia’s mother asked. Facing her mother, Olivia lied more naturally. “I’m busy working overtime. The company has a lot going on these days.” Olivia’s mother breathed a sigh of relief and turned to glare at me fiercely. “That’s fine then. Jack said he didn’t know what you were doing. His attitude really made me angry.” Not realizing she was on speaker, Olivia complained about me without hesitation. “Don’t mind him, Mom. He’s just a big man who likes to be petty.” “He always tells others bad things about me, acting like he’s so wronged.” Knowing Olivia was safe, her mother hung up the phone, satisfied. Then she looked at my parents smugly. “Did you hear that? My daughter is busy working. For the sake of this family, she can’t even come to her son’s funeral. Yet you people keep badmouthing her all day! Your whole family is rotten to the core!” Seeing Olivia’s mother’s attitude, my parents couldn’t stand it anymore and wanted to argue properly. I held them back, clenching my fists tightly. I grabbed Olivia’s mother’s phone, wanting to call Olivia back and ask her why, during the days when our son was suffering the most, she was in bed with another man! Olivia’s mother slapped me again. “What are you going crazy for? You useless waste! No skills but such a bad temper!” “You can’t earn money yourself, so don’t disturb my daughter’s work!” Before we got married, Olivia had said she wanted me to be a full-time stay-at-home husband to take care of her. I agreed, and while managing household affairs, I also wrote novels online and accumulated a certain fan base. In the end, our son’s illness became too serious, so I put everything down to fully take care of him. “Once the funeral is over, I’m going to tell Olivia to divorce a useless man like you right away!” “Fine! Let’s divorce, I’ve long wanted to end this!” Olivia’s father looked at the time and pulled his wife back, warning her: “Can you say a few less words? Today is Tommy’s burial day. As his grandmother, just behave yourself!” After saying that, he looked at me apologetically. “Jack, let’s go. Don’t delay Tommy’s time to rest in peace.” 0

I silently hugged the ashes tightly and walked towards the burial plot I had already bought. Seeing her husband’s serious expression, Olivia’s mother finally contained her temper, but she found the coffin inauspicious and didn’t walk at the front, instead following far behind the procession. Our group arrived at the cemetery. I presented the relevant documents and materials. But the staff member looked at me with a troubled expression and stammered: “I’m sorry, Mr. He, but I’m afraid we can’t sell you that plot anymore.” Faced with this sudden situation, I was confused. Could they really cancel an order after the money had already been paid? Seeing our displeased expressions, the staff member continued to explain: “I’m really sorry. Everything was prepared, but suddenly a VIP came and offered ten times your price for this burial plot.” “I’m sorry, we didn’t dare offend them, so we had to inconvenience you. How about I choose another plot for you? This time it will be free of charge.” A gloomy mood gradually spread. “What do you mean? My son is being buried today and you tell me we can’t use it. Is this reasonable? You have no professional ethics!” My mother was also very angry. “This is too unreasonable. How can you sell it to someone else? We want this plot. It was carefully chosen!” Because we had many people, the staff didn’t dare obstruct us. “Fine then. The person who offered the high price is still inside. Why don’t you negotiate with them directly? I’m just an employee, I was only following orders from higher-ups.” I was in a very unpleasant mood. I wanted to see who exactly was doing such an unethical thing as snatching someone’s burial plot. I walked in angrily. But I saw Adam instead. He had a small coffin at his feet. As I walked closer, I saw it was actually the dog Buddy that he and Olivia had raised together before. He seemed to have expected it was me and smiled smugly. “Jack? What are you doing here? Did someone in your family die?” Seeing the memorial photo behind me, he understood, but still taunted: “Oh, so your son died. What a pity.” I ignored his provocation and questioned: “I paid for this plot first. What right do you have to snatch it!” He looked at me and laughed. “Jack, you may be grieving the loss of your son, but I’ve also lost my dog.” “And Olivia paid ten times your price. This dog was like her son too!” I was shocked that Olivia could be so shameless to this extent. I clenched my fists, trying hard to control my emotions, but Adam leaned in and whispered words that stabbed my heart. “You didn’t know? When Olivia found out the owner of this plot was you, she got so angry. I had to work hard to comfort her!” “After Buddy died, Olivia was too sad. We comforted each other, and she released all the frustrations she’s had over the years.” I couldn’t hold back anymore. I raised my fist and swung hard at Adam’s smug, arrogant face. This scene was just seen by Olivia, who was returning from the bathroom. She helped Adam up worriedly and yelled at me: “Jack, have you gone crazy? What are you doing here?” I laughed coldly, my heart turning to ashes. “Olivia, do you know this plot was prepared for our son!” “While you were having an affair with this man, our son was suffering in agony from his illness!” “Do you know today is our son’s funeral!” 0

As expected, Olivia also slapped me. I turned my face. After three slaps from Olivia and her mother, my cheek was already slightly swollen and red. “Adam, are you even human? How dare you curse your own son?” “Tommy has leukemia, but his condition was stable. It’s not at all like what you’re saying!” She really was good at self-deception. “Olivia, during the time our son was sick in the hospital, how many times did you take care of him? How do you have the face to say such things?” “Are you blaming me? Everything you ate and used, Tommy’s medical expenses, which one wasn’t paid for by me?” “Even the burial plot you bought to curse our son was with my money!” She always brings this up. I’m too lazy to argue anymore. “Olivia, if you don’t believe me, I don’t want to bother anymore. But I bought this plot first.” Olivia’s eyes were full of disgust. “Jack, is it worth being jealous of Buddy? This is also a life! Moreover, it accompanied me and Adam for so many years!” “Do you have any heart at all? I won’t let you have this plot no matter what!” At this time, the staff and others finally walked over. I turned and said loudly in front of everyone: “Please help me find a new plot. Olivia won’t allow our son to be buried here.” Olivia’s father looked at her with wide eyes. “Olivia? Didn’t you tell your mother you were working overtime? Why are you here? What’s going on?” Olivia avoided her father’s direct gaze, explaining nervously: “Dad, a dog I raised with a friend before died. I took some time off to accompany him in burying the dog.” Olivia’s father was indeed angry. “You have time to bury a dog! Do you know this was bought by Jack for Tommy!” Olivia was very defiant, “Dad, why are you speaking for Jack! Tommy is alive and well, how could I as his mother agree to buy a burial plot to curse him!” My mother really couldn’t stand it anymore. She held up the memorial photo and cursed: “Olivia! How dare you call yourself a mother? Are you blind? Can’t you see we’re all wearing mourning clothes? Tommy passed away three days ago!” “And you as his mother are busy arranging a funeral for a dog!” Olivia shook her head, still expressing disbelief. She looked straight at me. “Interesting. Jack, you actually got the whole family to cooperate in acting out this play. If you can’t go on living, let’s just get divorced! There’s no need to make up such a clumsy lie to anger me!” “I didn’t expect you all to be such shameless people, actually daring to take a memorial photo of my son?” Then she stared intently at the box in my arms. “What’s in the box you’re holding? Don’t tell me it’s ashes.” After saying that, she snatched the urn of ashes from my arms and scattered them on the spot. Our son’s ashes immediately dispersed in the wind. “Stop pretending with a few handfuls of dirt!” Olivia’s father’s voice trembled as he used all his strength to slap Olivia. “You wretch! You’re truly a wretch!” “You just destroyed the only memento your son left in this world!” I could no longer hear the calls of those around me. There was only one voice in my mind telling me: “Our son’s ashes are gone. I couldn’t preserve his body, and now I couldn’t even protect his ashes.” I knelt on the ground and broke down crying. 0 My parents helped me up, their eyes red. “Olivia, Jack loves Tommy more than anyone in this world. How could he possibly joke about something like this!”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “295977”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster #浪漫Romance #现实主义Realistic #励志Inspiring #重生Reborn #惊悚Thriller #校园School