Category: English

Last life, he called out the wrong name at our wedding, and his first love tragically jumped from the building during the ceremony. Her suicide note was exposed, branding me as the undeniable homewrecker. I was fired, subjected to relentless online abuse, received death threats, and ultimately died tragically on the streets. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day his first love was threatening to jump. This time, don’t be in such a rush to die. I’ll personally drag you both to hell. “Chloe! What are you spacing out for?! Explain your relationship with Daniel right now!” A sharp, urgent female voice pierced the air. I snapped back to reality, realizing I was standing on a rooftop. Before me was Brittany, in a wedding dress, swaying precariously on the edge in the fierce wind, her eyes brimming with tears. Everyone was staring at me, their faces etched with anxiety and confusion. I suddenly realized I was back at the critical turning point of my life. Any second now, Brittany would leap, using her own death to firmly place the monumental blame squarely on my shoulders. She would falsely accuse me of being the mistress who drove her to her death. “Chloe! What are you doing staying silent at a time like this! Are you deliberately trying to kill Brittany?!” Sarah, the bridesmaid, urged again. “Chloe, please… save Brittany!” Daniel, the groom, pleaded, his voice trembling. I said sharply, “Brittany, Daniel and I have had absolutely nothing to do with each other for a long time.” “I have a boyfriend, and you know him too.” I pointed to the man, “Your brother, Julian!” The four of them looked astonished, but Brittany quickly snapped back, screaming through her tears. “You’re lying! You just got back from abroad, how could you know my brother! You’re just trying to fool me!” “I knew you wouldn’t admit it!” The more she spoke, the more agitated she became, leaning out further! In a flash, I spoke quickly, “Julian. Graduated from Berkeley College of Music, a traveling violinist, loves to fly all over the world. He owns two golden retrievers. He’s two years older than you, but he’s not your biological brother.” “We’ve been together for two years. Believe it or not.” “Really? Julian?” Julian responded calmly, “It’s true. Come down, and I’ll explain everything to you.” After a prolonged standoff. Brittany finally jumped back into Daniel’s arms. I sank to the ground, drenched in a cold sweat. However, it wasn’t over yet. Julian, who had left and then returned, suddenly stood in front of me. Silhouetted against the light, he asked in a deep voice, “Ms. Xu… I mean, Chloe, who are you? How do you know all these private details about me?”

Who am I? I am Chloe, the woman those two dogs drove to a tragic death. In my last life, Brittany’s leap from her own wedding shocked the entire society. News of the pregnant bride’s tragic death rocked society. And in her suicide note, she turned all accusations squarely on me. Overnight, I became the mistress who drove the original wife to her death, hated by everyone. “Hope every homewrecker in the world rots in hell!” Furious netizens ceaselessly cursed me on all my social media accounts. I clarified, I called the police, I filed lawsuits. But to little effect. After all, who can win against a dead person? Later, with the public release of Brittany’s secret Ins account, I spiraled into an irredeemable abyss. Finally, on my way to therapy, a severe depressive episode hit, and I rushed into traffic, dying tragically on the streets. Shaking off the painful memories. I opened Brittany’s secret Ins account. “He was completely out of it tonight… It turns out, she’s back.” “I saw her. Why didn’t she just stay abroad? Why did she have to come back and mess up my peaceful life?” “He called out her name in his sleep. I know he never truly got over her…” “We promised to get married, but he hesitated. She must be meddling.” “The night before my wedding, my fiancé actually messaged another woman, asking if there was still a chance between them… What should I do?? My heart is a mess.” The latest post stopped at, “One last chance for him. I want to be his most beautiful bride…” Heartfelt and dripping with sorrow, every word. Between the lines, she painted herself as a humble, fragile woman, enduring for love. But she never mentioned my clear boundaries or my deliberate efforts to avoid him in front of her. Nor did she mention my firm “No” and blocking him after his “Is there even a tiny chance?” message. With a cynical smirk, I posted my first thought on a newly registered Ins account. “I didn’t want any involvement with them, but she still threatened to die if I didn’t show up on the rooftop. I really don’t want them to disturb me anymore. Can anyone save me?”

Standing in the cubicle, I listened to the whispers outside. “Did you know? That day, Daniel called the bride’s name Chloe during his vows! Brittany freaked out right then and there, grabbing her dress and threatening to jump…” “Oh my god, seriously? That’s so dramatic! I always thought Daniel’s gaze toward Chloe was weird…” “It’s true, I was there. Those two had a thing back in college. Otherwise, why do you think Chloe suddenly came back to the country and joined our company?” “That bride is really unlucky, getting her ‘one that got away’ coming back to interfere right before the wedding…” “You just pray Chloe dares to come to the team-building event! Then we’ll have a real show.” The next second, I pulled up my phone’s chat window and replied to HR. “Available to attend.” To clear my name, the first step is to shut down these gossipmongers! On camping day, a dozen or so people sat around picnicking on the lawn. I was the first to grab a drink, proposing a toast with my soda, “Let’s all toast to the happy couple!” Amidst everyone’s congratulations, Daniel downed his drink in one gulp. Brittany, clinging to Daniel, shot me a hostile glance before taking a tiny sip. I looked directly at Brittany, “Brittany, you misunderstood me at the wedding that day. I’d like to use this opportunity to formally clarify: Daniel and I are completely innocent, and we are, and will only be, colleagues.” “Some might bring up our three-month college romance,” I deliberately glanced at Sarah, “but that ended a long, long time ago.” Perhaps not expecting me to tackle the rumors head-on, my colleagues’ faces were a mix of awkwardness and curiosity. Just then, a voice cut in, “But I’m really curious, Chloe, why did you choose to join our company right after returning to the country?” Sarah paused suggestively, “Wasn’t it because of Daniel?” “Because the general manager is an alumnus from our university. I joined the company at his invitation.” She pressed on, “Then how come it’s such a coincidence that you happen to live right across the hall from Daniel and Brittany?” I stared at this former college classmate, Brittany’s best friend, and the bridesmaid at the wedding. In my last life, she was the one who made Brittany’s Ins account public. I wondered how much of Brittany’s supposed ‘evidence’ of me seducing her husband was fabricated and spread by Sarah? Sarah flinched under my gaze. I said, word for word, “Listen closely. I bought my place shortly after graduation. When I returned this year, I discovered they were living across the hall.” “So, you should ask Daniel and Brittany why they moved in.”

Amidst the quiet, the female lead, Brittany, finally spoke. “Chloe, since you want to clear the air, let’s clear it all.” “This past week, the ‘love porridge’ Daniel brought you–the one you posted on SnapChat – was it tasty?” “I made it.” Under everyone’s surprised glances, she looked at me with a sinister glare, her voice calm. “You wear that niche Guerlain perfume, don’t you? Every day my husband comes home, he smells of it.” She pulled out an earring, “And, you accidentally left an earring in Daniel’s car.” “It’d be a shame for it to be unpaired, so here you go.” The evidence was undeniable. Everyone’s gaze shifted back to me. I smiled, my tone light. “Porridge? I bought it from the 7-Eleven downstairs from the office. I can post the receipt if you need it.” “Perfume? My apologies, I have allergies, so I barely wear any.” “As for the earring… Hmm, it looks familiar, but it’s definitely not my style.” Her face instantly turned pale. Suddenly, I had an ‘aha’ moment, “Ah, I remember. Isn’t this the earring Sarah asked about in the group chat?” “The porridge and perfume… I think I saw them on Sarah’s desk too.” Brittany’s head snapped towards her best friend. Sarah, who had been enjoying the show a second ago, was instantly flustered, “Brittany, don’t believe her nonsense!” “I didn’t drink any porridge, and the earring is mine, but I’ve been looking for it for days!” “Even the perfume, someone just inexplicably left it on my desk, and it smelled nice, so I started using it…” She explained frantically. But she was interrupted by a recording from the bathroom, played loudly from my phone. Watching her reddened face, filled with humiliation, I asked softly, “Sarah, I originally didn’t understand why you were spreading baseless rumors behind my back, but just now, I had a wild guess…” “We were classmates, now we’re colleagues. How come you’ve always been following Daniel so closely?” “Are you the one who actually likes him?” Facing Brittany’s dagger-like gaze, Sarah completely panicked, her words coming out in broken fragments. I secretly chuckled, watching her struggle desperately to prove herself. Last life, you were the executioner who pushed things along. This life, I’ll make you pay first!

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My husband died in another woman’s bed. When I got the call, my first reaction was pure disbelief. It wasn’t until they clearly stated my husband’s name and age that I rushed over to deal with his remains. Everyone around cried and cursed him for being a heartless man, but I calmly covered him with a blanket. David’s ghost hovered beside me, asking, “How come you’re not angry at all?” When I arrived at the hotel, the small room was already packed with people. Chloe, David’s young girlfriend, was trembling as she answered the police’s questions. The officer asked her, “Did the deceased show any unusual signs before his death?” Her slender, pale fingers clutched the towel draped around her, and she nervously replied, “Nothing unusual, he just had two bottles of alcohol.” The officer saw me approach and, as a matter of routine, asked me, “You’re the deceased’s wife. Did your husband show any unusual signs before he left?” I glanced at the naked man lying on the bed, confirming it was my husband, David. I spoke, “No. At eight tonight, I asked him to pick up some soy sauce. He said traffic was bad and he might be home late.” Now, the soy sauce sat on the table beside the bed. The officer’s expression was hard to read, full of unspoken thoughts, but he eventually finished his questioning. Soon, he concluded, “David already had a congenital heart condition. After drinking alcohol and engaging in strenuous activity, he suffered sudden cardiac arrest due to excitement.” After he finished, he looked at David’s young girlfriend, then at me. “The cleaning lady called the police. She heard screaming from inside. The girl initially tried to hide it, but couldn’t. When we arrived, it was just the girl and David. No one can really be blamed for this.” He seemed to fear I might react violently if I got too angry, so he half-shielded the girl behind him. But I just calmly replied, “Understood.”

Next, I called all our relatives, one by one, to tell them the news of David’s passing. The small hotel room quickly filled with people. Every relative who arrived was furious with him, cursing David. “How could he just die like that? You heartless bastard.” “Of all the ways to die, why in another woman’s bed?” “He’d finally made something of himself, becoming a university professor, and he died such a pathetic death.” I watched everything calmly. David’s young girlfriend saw an opportunity and tried to slip away, but I spoke up, “You’re David’s student, aren’t you? When did you two start?” The girl stammered, saying nothing, completely different from the defiant person she’d been when she came to see me before. Many relatives spotted her, and some, highly agitated, immediately moved forward. “It’s you, isn’t it? You had to be a homewrecker! I’ll beat you to death!” The police couldn’t hold back so many relatives. Slaps rained down on the girl’s face. I didn’t intervene. David’s anxious voice echoed beside me. “Don’t hit her! Hit me instead! We had true love, it’s not her fault.” “Chloe and I have been together for over a decade. I truly had no feelings for my wife anymore.” It was only then that I realized David’s ghost had been in the room the whole time. He anxiously shielded the girl, watching the relatives punch and kick her. After he spoke, he seemed to remember something and quickly turned to me. “Serena, you’ve always been able to see ghosts, haven’t you? I’m sorry, I cheated on you after all these years, but I really couldn’t control myself.” “Don’t be angry. Please help me. Don’t let them hit Chloe anymore.” “If you help me, I’ll tell you where I hid my bank card. Leo wants to take an interest class, doesn’t he?” I turned to look at him. He thought I’d agreed and was overjoyed. But the next second, I turned my head away again. He floated in the air, relentlessly asking me, “Serena, can you really see me? If you can see me, just answer me.” “You shouldn’t be lying, right?”

I didn’t answer David. I just watched him fret and pace in circles. David’s parents were the last to arrive. As soon as they came in, they hugged David’s body and began to wail. “David, how could you just leave us like this? What will become of us?” “What about Serena?” Their cries were heart-wrenching, and many shed tears. It was then that everyone realized a life had truly been lost. Chloe, the girl, crawled over then. “You can hate me all you want, but please let David rest in peace first. It’s all my fault.” “You can do whatever you want to me later.” She sobbed loudly as she spoke, which made David’s ghost quickly float to her side to comfort her. The entire room instantly burst into tears. Those who could cry, and those who couldn’t, now tried to squeeze out a few tears. But at that moment, I wanted to blast some celebratory music. I just couldn’t shed a single tear, so I lowered my head and gently covered David with the blanket. It was then that he suddenly realized something. He stood beside me and asked, “Serena, you’re not sad at all that I’m dead?” Sad? Why should I be sad? Just as he said, we had been together for over a decade, and he wasn’t the only one who had lost feelings. I had lost feelings for him a long time ago. In fact, David’s young girlfriend had come to see me half a month ago. She looked at me defiantly. “Are you David’s wife? Are you as young and beautiful as I am? You’re not good enough for him.” “You two should get a divorce quickly.” The young girl, blinded by love, came to confront me in a fit of passion. I told her, “If you can convince David to get a peaceful divorce with me, I’ll do it immediately.” I don’t know how she resolved it, but she never came to find me again. The next time we met was in this hotel. David’s body was still lying on the bed. Everyone was in a frenzy. Amidst the clamor, I spoke, “Let’s send David for cremation first. The funeral arrangements still need to be made.” My in-laws were sobbing uncontrollably, clutching my hand and saying, “Serena, thank goodness for you.” I contacted the funeral home staff. After everyone arrived, I suddenly remembered that Leo was still at home. He didn’t yet know about his father’s scandalous death. I lowered my head and opened Daniel Anderson’s chat. I typed and deleted lines of text until he sent a message first: “Serena, what’s wrong?” Only then did I send the message I had prepared: “Can you bring my son to the funeral home? Something happened to his dad.” He replied quickly: “On my way.”

David’s ghost hovered beside me, reading every word of my conversation with Daniel. He furiously questioned me, “When did you two reconnect?” “Didn’t you two unfriend each other ages ago? How did you add him back?” “Have you no shame?” Daniel was my first love. We were young then, and a small misunderstanding led to neither of us wanting to back down. The end result was an unhappy breakup. When I was older, my family pressured me to go on blind dates, and that’s how David and I met. Our families were a good match, and he seemed decent enough. After less than six months of dating, we decided to get married. A month before the wedding, Daniel sent me a message: “You were always so critical in relationships, agonizing over every little thing. How come you’re not agonizing over something as big as marriage?” I didn’t reply to that message, but David saw it. He angrily asked who it was. I told him everything, but he was still bothered. So, I deleted Daniel in front of him. I thought I would never have any contact with him again. Until Leo was one year old. I discovered David was cheating and posted on Ins, looking for a divorce lawyer. Daniel sent a friend request. The verification message read: “My divorce lawyer is really good. I used him when I divorced my ex-wife. I’ll recommend him to you.” That divorce didn’t happen because there wasn’t enough evidence of David’s infidelity, and his family threatened me with Leo. Everyone advised me to turn a blind eye, and ultimately, I swallowed my pride. It was during that time that Daniel and I reconnected on SnapChat. We hadn’t chatted in years, until last month. He sent me a photo. A young woman was walking hand-in-hand with David, looking intimate as they shopped. He asked me, “Get a divorce.” Having learned my lesson from last time, I wasn’t in a hurry. I waited to find more evidence, but I never imagined I wouldn’t find evidence, and David would just die instead. Daniel arrived quickly. Leo held his hand, looking up at me and asking, “Mom, what happened to Dad?” I took Leo’s hand. David’s ghost anxiously said beside me, “Tell him I died in a car accident. At least let me keep my image as a father in his eyes.” “Serena, I know you can see me. Help me come up with an excuse.” But I didn’t come up with any excuse for David. I told Leo the truth, every detail: “Your dad cheated, and his emotions got too intense, leading to sudden cardiac arrest.” He’s five this year, and still a little confused. “So, I don’t have a dad anymore?” Then he tugged on Daniel’s hand. “Can I have Mr. Anderson as my dad?” As soon as he said that, Daniel gripped Leo’s hand tightly, staring at me. David’s ghost was utterly dumbfounded. He couldn’t understand why his son wasn’t at all sad about his death and was instead eager to call someone else his father.

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When my husband’s mistress showed up, pregnant and demanding, I actually sighed in relief. No one knew how long I’d been waiting for this exact moment. The woman looked at me with open disdain. “Daniel’s heart belongs to—” I cut her off swiftly. “To you, I know.” The very next second, I pushed the wheelchair from behind me. “So, this old lady is all yours now.” The woman’s face instantly went pale. “No! That’s impossible, Daniel told me his mom died ages ago!” I waved my hand dismissively.”You misunderstood. This isn’t his mother. This is his father’s former mistress.” The woman was completely stumped. “You… are you out of your mind? His father’s mistress? What does that have to do with you?” I nodded in agreement. “Nothing at all, but she’s got everything to do with you now.” Then I pulled out the divorce papers and shoved them right into her shirt collar. “From now on, you’re responsible for this woman’s medical bills, her nurse’s fees, her living expenses. Oh, and a little extra, you’ll be covering my and Lily’s support too.” With that, I quickly dragged my suitcase and strode toward the door. A heavily pregnant woman simply had no time to react. Ever since I found out about her, I’d been plotting how to turn the tables. Assets? No, Daniel had transferred most of his wealth a long time ago. Guilt? No, a man with no morals feels no remorse. “You stop right there! His father’s mistress… why are you dumping her on me?” “Because Daniel loves you! You’ve successfully climbed to the top, so you’re the lady of this house now!” Bang! The door slammed shut with a resounding thud. I let out a long, heavy breath. This security door required a fingerprint to unlock, both from the inside and the outside. So, she wasn’t getting out. She wanted to force her way in and take over, right? Well, she could skip the forcing part. She was already in. My phone rang just as I stepped into the elevator. It was Daniel. I quickened my pace. After all, I’d messed with his precious little thing. He wouldn’t let this go easily. He’d called over thirty times, but I ignored every single one. Texts immediately flooded in: “Get home within half an hour and give me a proper explanation!” Explanation? “Nothing to explain. What goes around comes around, right? And hey, a stepmom is still a mom! So, let your precious mistress take good care of your daddy’s mistress. What a heartwarming family saga that’ll be for everyone to hear!” When we got married, Daniel told me he had a terribly unhappy childhood. His father’s mistress moved right into their home when Daniel was fifteen, driving his biological mother to her death. He hated that scumbag father and that conniving woman with a burning passion. But fate has a twisted sense of humor. Less than two years later, his good-for-nothing dad died suddenly from a drunken heart attack. And that stepmom, who had sworn she’d take care of Daniel, ran off overnight with every penny the family owned. She only left behind a historic family estate that had belonged to his biological mother. I thought my love could heal the scars of his childhood. But only now did I understand. He’d become just like his father. “Bullshit! What does this have to do with Chloe? Why should she have to take care of that btch?” Daniel’s rage practically dripped from every word. I quickly typed back: “Because she loves you. Because she’s your soulmate. Because she isn’t after your money and just wants to build a life with you.” If she loved him that much, what was a little sacrifice? I once tearfully asked him why, despite hating scumbags so much, he was following in his father’s footsteps. He was silent for a long time before giving me a truly gut-wrenching answer: “You’re great, Grace, but Chloe makes my heart race. When I’m with her, every struggle feels meaningful. I finally understand now, you can’t force feelings. I… I finally understand my father.” I looked at his shameless face and felt a wave of blackness wash over me. He said he understood his father. Understood the irresistible pull of “true love.” Yet he forgot his mother, who jumped to her death. Of course. Sons can never truly empathize with their mothers. But they’ll always find a way to excuse their fathers’ sins. Since you understand your father so well, Daniel, then let me make you relive those pains you conveniently forgot.

Daniel ran a small company. As for his income, I honestly had no idea. For the first few years of our marriage, he deposited a fixed amount for household expenses each month. But ever since Chloe, his mistress, started working for him, Daniel changed completely. He constantly complained about the company’s poor performance. So, he mortgaged this pre-marital historic estate for $400,000 in cash. And I became the guarantor. Later, things only got worse. He stopped giving me a single cent for household expenses, claiming the business was struggling. Yet, Chloe was always impeccably dressed in designer clothes, radiating affluence. Only Lily and I were his old world, slowly being abandoned. I couldn’t just sit back and do nothing. Otherwise, one day, Lily and I would surely be thrown out. A plan began to form in my mind. The process was smoother than I’d imagined. Daniel’s father and Martha hadn’t actually divorced. After much searching, I finally tracked down Daniel’s father’s former mistress. When I actually met her, I was still taken aback. She was covered in unexplained scars and was frightfully thin. Her medical report listed various infectious and chronic diseases, including late-stage syphilis. It seemed that life after running off with the family’s money hadn’t been so sweet for her either. She scrutinized me, a hint of calculation in her murky eyes.”You… you’re Daniel’s wife?” I didn’t answer. For women like her, I felt nothing but visceral hatred. Legally, she was Daniel’s stepmother. In terms of marriage, she was his father’s spouse. So, after local social services had tried contacting Daniel multiple times without success, they sent the old woman right to his doorstep. I processed the paperwork as quickly as possible. Once inside the house, her cloudy eyes instantly lit up. She quickly pushed her wheelchair around, surveying everything in the house. It was as if she was already prepared to be the new lady of the house. However, she didn’t know Daniel hadn’t stepped foot in this house for over six months. But I still took excellent care of her, raising money for her medical treatment. After all, the best way to punish a mistress is to make her suffer the consequences of her own actions. She thought she was coming to claim her spot. She didn’t realize she was just there to take over my mess.

I pulled out my phone and opened the home surveillance app. Daniel was back. He looked completely bewildered by the scene before him. Chloe, heavily pregnant, was weeping in his arms. And Martha in the wheelchair was groaning incessantly, clutching the armrest. Daniel, meanwhile, was continuously pinching the bridge of his nose. Soon, a second message popped up: “Grace, don’t think bringing this woman back will give you leverage over me. Get rid of those stupid ideas of yours. I was going to give you more compensation, but now, I see no need.” A slight smile played on my lips. “You’re overthinking it. We can talk about compensation later. For now, settle the medical and nurse fees that woman owes. All the detailed breakdowns are attached to the divorce papers.” Through the monitor, Daniel slowly flipped through the stack of documents. His expression gradually twisted into a grotesque mask of fury. “Late-stage syphilis?” “Ah—!” Chloe instantly sprang to her feet. “What did you say? Who has late-stage syphilis?” Yes. That was the real reason local social services had delivered his father’s old mistress to our door. Nursing homes wouldn’t take her, hospitals wouldn’t keep her, and out of eight nannies, nine bolted. The only remaining option was for family members to personally care for her. So, I was even more eager for this day to come than Chloe. “All expenses related to your mother during this period were personal loans. A total of $25,000. Please settle it as soon as possible.” On the screen, Daniel kicked over the coffee table. Amidst the shattering glass, both women shrieked in unison. The woman in the wheelchair shuddered, and a puddle of waste dripped down her leg. No one dared to approach her. The pregnant Chloe, catching a whiff of the smell, immediately threw up… Moments later, she grabbed her bag and fled. Daniel followed closely behind. I kept my eyes on the woman in the wheelchair. Sure enough, she shakily pulled out her phone. The people from social services had carefully instructed her. If her children refused to support her, she could call the police. The police would charge Daniel with abandonment. So, during this time, the threats I heard most often were hers: “If you don’t give me imported medicine, I’ll report you!” “If you don’t hire me a nurse, I’ll report you!” “If you don’t make me delicious meals, I’ll report you!” For the sake of today’s show, I had been utterly compliant with her every whim. The tonics in her bowl, the gold jewelry on her body, all inflated her confidence and greed. “Hello? Police?” Her voice echoed through the monitor. “My son abandoned me, a sick person, at home to die! I want to report him!” Two hours later, Daniel was brought back. The once dashing man now looked like a humiliated stray. He squatted dejectedly by the door, fingers deeply buried in his hair. “Mr. Miller, abandoning a gravely ill relative carries criminal liability. We hope you resolve your family dispute properly. If we receive another report, we will legally open a case.” Chloe, the pregnant one? Legally, Daniel had no obligation to her. But this woman, who had once run off with his family’s money and driven his biological mother to her death, he had to support. That was the law. A taste of his own medicine. I used his legal responsibility to block his path to his “true love.” He had finally understood his father, hadn’t he? Well then, in the dead of night, he could explain to his mother just how grand and self-serving this “true love” of his really was. The wheelchair slowly rolled closer. Martha reached out, not a hint of remorse on her face. “Daniel, why bring up old things? Haven’t I come back now? That Chloe doesn’t look like the type to settle down. Listen to me, Grace is easier to handle. Hurry up and coax her back.” “Shut up!” Daniel suddenly stood up. “When you ran off with the money back then, why didn’t you think about whether I’d starve? Now you’re diseased, at your wit’s end, and you remember you have a son? Where do you get the nerve to lecture me?” Seeing Daniel’s resolute attitude, Martha waved her hand nonchalantly. “Fine. Since you’re acting like you have no family, I have nothing more to say. Anyway, I’m your mother. I raised you for two years, so you have to support me for life! I don’t like that cheap hussy, Chloe. Bring Grace back now!” With that, she went straight into the master bedroom and slammed the door shut. My phone buzzed, receiving another message from Daniel: “You brought Martha back, so you’re responsible for her! I don’t have time to play games with you. This has nothing to do with Chloe, she has no obligation!”

See? That was the scumbag’s calculation. Marriage, to him, was a game he could exploit. He found the perfect loophole. Let Chloe, in the name of “true love,” enjoy all the benefits. And me, in the name of responsibility, bear all the risks. The people from social services simply followed procedure, pushing that foul-smelling woman in front of me. It was like the whole world was conspiring with him to exploit his wife. Was he stupid? Not at all. He knew exactly how to use the shackles of marriage to legally plunder his own wife. I sent him the $25,000 bill again. “Settle the debt first. This is for your mother’s medical treatment.” His call came immediately. “I’ll say it again, that woman is not my mother. She’s a btch. Don’t expect me to pay a dime for this. You treated her without my consent; that’s your personal debt!” Then he hung up. A buzzing sound filled my ears. If that’s how you want to play, then so be it. I then sent the recording to Daniel’s stepmother. “Martha, you heard him. Daniel isn’t acknowledging this debt. This $25,000, you’ll have to repay yourself.” Martha instantly panicked. “Grace, you know I don’t have any money! If I had that kind of money, I wouldn’t have ended up…” I cut her off. “You forgot, when Daniel’s father passed away, he left behind a house. You legally inherited 25% of it.” Martha looked bewildered. “A house?” “Yes, that house was Daniel’s biological mother’s personal property. But after she passed, Daniel and his father each inherited 50%.” “When Daniel’s father passed, his 50% was split between you and Daniel again, so you own 25%, and Daniel owns 75%.” “Daniel will definitely challenge your share. After all, you ran off with the money, so it’s like a worthless piece of paper. But if you assign that share to me, it’s a completely different story. Not only will I continue to pay for your future medical treatments, but your previous debt will also be cleared.” Martha fell silent. The reason Daniel kept that house was not out of sentimentality, but because Martha’s disappearance all those years ago meant the inheritance procedures couldn’t be executed. “Fine!” Martha texted back: “I’ll sign! But you have to put it in writing, clearly stating that you’ll be responsible for my treatment! Don’t let me end up homeless again!” “It’s a deal.” The next day, after dropping Lily at school, Martha immediately came home and signed the “Debt Assignment Agreement.” The entire process didn’t require Daniel’s consent. This 25% ownership was my first trophy. Though it originated from a woman I once despised, I now firmly believed: The enemy of my enemy is my friend. But my mortgage debt was still a marital joint debt. Subsequently, I moved Martha into a newly rented apartment. She had an infectious disease, and this was a necessary isolation measure to protect Lily. This new rental expense, like her previous medical bills, once again became another clear marital joint debt under Daniel’s name. After all, I was fulfilling his legal obligations. Upon returning, I began a systematic liquidation of our home. I sold off all the valuable items at low prices. The cash was used to repay the medical debts I had incurred earlier. Next, I put the house up for rent. This pre-marital property of his, with a monthly rent of $2,500, could precisely cover his mother’s treatment costs. Lily was temporarily being picked up and dropped off by my parents. You see, fate can sometimes be so ironic. He thought he had defined the rules of this game, and I was destined to be the trapped player. But he forgot that rules are a double-edged sword. If he could build high walls, I could carve out a path to survival. With these maneuvers, that pile of rotten debt he left behind was completely revitalized by me. Days later, seeing that I was no longer hounding him, he smugly assumed I had finally given up. It wasn’t until his fingerprint couldn’t unlock his own front door, and a strange tenant slowly appeared at the entrance, that he truly panicked. All traces of me and Lily had been erased from the house. He furiously called my phone, but was met only with a cold “phone is off” message. Soon, he received a thick envelope. The first document was the “Deed of Gift” for that 25% property share. Next to the agreement, I’d attached a sticky note: “Friendly reminder: No need to find Martha for a signature, the ownership has already been transferred. Awaiting division. If you wish to sell the house, please consult with me.” Following that was his stepmother’s rental contract for $3,000 a month, with an attached doctor’s note recommending separate isolation due to her condition. Then came the nurse’s contract, with a monthly salary of $5,000, and a note in the remarks section: “Special infectious disease caregiver, high-risk position allowance.” Finally, there was a densely itemized “Summary of Advanced Expenses,” including medical fees, living expenses, nutritional costs… all shockingly high. He threw the documents to the floor, roaring in front of everyone. “Grace! If I give you one damn penny, I’m a dog!” Finally, he sued me for property damage, demanding that I immediately cease infringement and return his pre-marital property! He demanded that I return all his rent money. He demanded that I bear all legal costs. I calculated the court date. How convenient, Chloe was about to go into labor. This was truly a double celebration. So, I would use this trial as their wedding gift.

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To test my loyalty, Asher Hayes drugged me and sent me to his best friend’s bed. They had placed a bet, ten million dollars, to see if I would uphold my integrity. Furious, I went to confront Asher, only to overhear his conversation with his friend outside the door. “Chloe is so proud. Don’t you think you went too far this time?” Asher scoffed, “She wasn’t a virgin to begin with. If she cheated, it’d just give me a reason to dump her. But Serena gave her first time to me; I can’t let her down.” Five years of devotion, and this was the betrayal I received. The next day, my explicit photos were splashed all over the internet. But what I didn’t know was that the man in those photos wasn’t Asher’s friend, but a homeless man. At the entrance of a dimly lit club, Asher’s friend, Leo, teased him. “You just wanted to prove Chloe couldn’t live without you, but you played way too dirty.” “Drugging her was bad enough, but posting it online? How do you expect Chloe to ever live this down?” Asher idly scrolled on his phone. “Without this, my old man wouldn’t have given his blessing.” Leo retorted, “You still have feelings for Serena, don’t you? So why string Chloe along in the first place?” “I was giving her a chance. If she passed the test, I’d marry her. Now that she’s been ‘played,’ it saves me the trouble of breaking off the engagement.” “Serena was right. People who’ve been violated easily lose their moral compass.” I collapsed at the door, listening as Asher nonchalantly spoke of the nightmare buried deep within my heart, drawing laughter from his friends. Once upon a time, Asher would tenderly hold me, reassuring me again and again that he didn’t care about my past. The door swung open. The moment Asher saw me, his brow furrowed almost imperceptibly, but the disgust in his eyes was undeniable. “Good, you’re here. Come back to the Davis mansion with me.” In the living room, Serena Davis sat ramrod straight, a picture of demure silence. Only my parents were wringing their hands in distress, sighing while facing Asher. “Asher, it’s all Chloe’s fault. We were so close to the wedding, and she pulled a stunt like this.” My stepmother dabbed at her eyes, echoing his sentiments. “I just pity my Serena. Her reputation is also tainted by association, and it’ll be tough for her to find a suitable partner now.” Asher tapped his fingers idly on the chair. “I’ll marry Serena.” A lightning bolt struck me, and the words burst out emotionally. “No!” “After doing something like that, how dare you say ‘no’? Asher marrying Serena now is already a huge favor.” Serena had left Asher to fend for himself when his company went under, jetting off for her studies abroad. I’d stayed by his side, helped him build everything back up from nothing. Asher had been withdrawn, trusting no one, but I’d been there for him, day in and day out, for five years, eventually receiving his proposal. I opened my mouth, wanting to demand why he’d orchestrated this cruel test, but then I saw the possessive longing in Asher’s eyes as he looked at Serena. It was like he was looking at a long-lost treasure he’d finally reclaimed. My stepmother exclaimed, her face alight with relief. “Back then, Serena had to leave the country for ‘your sake,’ but now, after all these years, you two still found your way back to each other…” There was nothing left to misunderstand. I swallowed all my questions, silent tears streaming down my face. “As for Chloe, Mr. Harrison doesn’t care about your scandal. Marrying him would at least salvage some dignity.” I sat numbly on the bed. Serena walked in without knocking. After surveying the room, she started collecting the jewelry Asher had given me. There was a simple, hand-braided ring he’d given me when he was broke, and a million-dollar necklace he’d bought after he’d made it big. “Who said you could take those?” I croaked, grabbing the necklace she had just picked up. Serena looked at me as if I’d said something ridiculous. “I’m marrying Asher, so how could you possibly keep these things?” My eyes were red, but I refused to let go. That ring was a young man’s earnest affection, one of the few genuine gestures of love I’d ever known. Serena winced in pain from my grip. She simply gave a vicious yank, then dramatically collapsed to the floor. The loud thud drew attention from downstairs. Less than a minute later, Asher pushed open the door. Seeing Serena’s tear-filled eyes, he pulled her into a comforting embrace. My father, who rushed in right after, witnessed this very scene. A stinging slap, no questions asked, left my ears ringing so loudly I couldn’t make out the barrage of insults that followed. “She was trying to steal my things!” Despite Asher’s icy glare, I still tried to explain. No one listened, just like every other time I had been framed.

Serena bit her lip, her hands clenching the hem of her dress into wrinkles. “She did something like that; those things should stay…” She buried her head in Asher’s chest, sobbing softly. “I just didn’t want you to be upset.” Asher’s voice softened with tenderness. “Shh, I’ll get you something much better. Those are… soiled anyway.” “But the bracelet your mother gave you, it’s your only keepsake.” Asher’s brow instantly furrowed. Other things could be discarded, but that bracelet was his mother’s sole relic. At the thought, Asher’s eyes grew even colder. “Hand over the bracelet.” I bit back my tears, reaching to take off the simple white bracelet, but it was stuck on my wrist. Asher lost his patience, stepping forward and using force. My wrist bones creaked, and I gasped in pain. All I got was a cold remark. “Don’t play the victim.” Asher had gently placed that bracelet on my wrist himself, the day he secured his first big project. Under the soft glow of candlelight, his eyes had sparkled as he’d whispered, “Chloe, I’ll cherish you forever.” “You once said…” Asher glanced at me, seemingly knowing what I wanted to say. He interrupted, “If you hadn’t constantly provoked Serena, I wouldn’t have grown so tired of you.” After Asher finished his business, he was about to leave. Serena, in the struggle, had cut her hand and was taken by my father to get it treated. I grabbed Asher, who was about to get into his car, and spoke bitterly. “I don’t want to marry into the Harrison family.” Now that my father’s mind was made up, I only hoped Asher would speak up. Even not getting married was better than marrying into the Harrison family. Asher stared at me for a long moment, then suddenly spoke softly. “I have to take responsibility for Serena. She’s not like you; she gave her first time to me.” “However, for the next three years, if you can keep a low profile and not bother Serena…” “I won’t let you want for anything – clothes, food, amenities. There’s still a place for you in my heart, as long as you don’t make trouble or try to undermine Serena.” His words, unspoken, made it clear he was asking me to be his mistress. I bit my lip, unable to believe these words came from Asher. “What if I don’t agree?” Asher’s face darkened, his voice laced with a threat. “Then you’ll go to the Harrison family and learn your place.” At Asher’s signal, the black Maybach drove away. Inside the car, Jake, Asher’s assistant of seven years, asked, “Asher, do you think Miss Davis will agree?” Asher chuckled lightly, his words full of certainty. “Given her current predicament, keeping a low profile and accepting her lot is the best she can hope for.” He then sighed. “I didn’t want things to escalate like this, but Chloe is so stubborn. If I didn’t do this, Serena would have a hard time.” “As for the rest, I’ll compensate her later.” The old wound on my wrist from the struggle with Serena had already scabbed over, unnoticed, just like when I was first brought back to the Davis mansion. If my mother were still alive, she’d be heartbroken for me. She’d never have let them push me into this abyss. I bit my lip, the blood seeping from the corner of my mouth bringing a semblance of clarity. But who would help me now? Suddenly, I remembered Asher’s friend, the other person involved in the “scandal.” I searched for days, finally cornering him in the restroom of a nightclub. “Please, help me,” I pleaded. The casually dressed young man in front of me looked helpless and annoyed. “Miss Davis, I already told you, with your situation, who would dare to help you?” “Asher said he’d blacklist anyone who helps you. If I were you, I’d just quietly go along with the plan.” Swallowing down the shame and nausea, I spoke again, refusing to give up. “You and I… did what we did. Do you really think he doesn’t mind?” I was ready to crush my dignity completely, just to escape all of this. I could find a quiet place to live out my life. Leo looked left and right, then bit his lip. “Chloe, don’t you dare threaten me. The truth is, it wasn’t me who took advantage of you that night.”

“I never even went into the hotel that night. Who knows how you ended up with that homeless guy later?” For a moment, my vision blurred. “What…?” Before I could finish, Asher’s voice, laced with fury, grated behind me. “Serena was right. You truly are a social climber.” I turned to face Asher’s disgusted gaze. “To avoid marrying into the Harrison family, you’d even crawl back into my friend’s bed, wouldn’t you?” Serena, clinging to Asher’s arm, spoke hesitantly. “Sister, I didn’t want to tell you, afraid of hurting your pride.” A metallic taste of blood filled my mouth. I spoke like a madwoman. “Asher Hayes, wasn’t all of this orchestrated by you, including the drugs?” After burning all my bridges, I hoped for a flicker of remorse from Asher. But Asher was merely startled for a second, then scoffed coldly. “Chloe, that was just a convenient excuse, a cover-up I fabricated for you.” “That tiny dose wouldn’t even knock out a mouse. It wouldn’t make anyone lose control.” “My friend didn’t even go. You’d even go for a homeless man. You sicken me.” No, that’s not right. After that drink, I lost all sensation. How could it have been such a small dose? I rambled on, as if possessed, trying to explain. “Impossible, impossible, I…” Asher’s eyes were filled with disappointment and anger. “Chloe, maybe even back then, when you claimed to be raped, you were actually willing?!” As if deaf to the scattered, cruel laughter of the onlookers, I walked away, completely distraught. When Asher’s company faced bankruptcy, I attended a late-night meeting to raise funds, which was when that terrible thing happened to me. To avoid adding to Asher’s stress, I gave him the million dollars in startup capital and kept silent about the incident. Watching my retreating figure, Serena spoke, “Asher, don’t be too sad. I know the pain of having given your heart to the wrong person.” “I was always so good to her too, but Chloe, she simply has no heart.” Asher pursed his lips, saying nothing. Leo, nearby, muttered to himself, “She won’t run away from the wedding, will she?” A cold, emotionless voice answered, “Keep an eye on her. Don’t let her escape. I want to see her marry that old man.” My phone buzzed with a new Ins post from Serena. In the photo, she wore a haute couture wedding gown, the diamond bracelet on her wrist sparkling softly. The caption read: “Always led me back to you.” Another picture, taken candidly, showed Asher, his eyes brimming with a tenderness and love that sickened me.

That wedding gown was custom-designed by Asher himself, who’d said he wanted to give it to the woman he loved most. I’d waited for it for so long. Only now did I realize that the woman he loved was never me. Tomorrow was the Harrison family engagement party, my last chance to escape. My phone vibrated with a new friend request on SnapChat: ‘Ryan Harrison’—the name felt vaguely familiar. I ignored it, picked up my suitcase, and quietly left through the back door. But as I turned a corner, someone clamped a hand over my mouth and nose until I lost consciousness. “This is her. Have you memorized all of Miss Davis’s instructions?” a hoarse, unfamiliar male voice asked. “Got it. Just keep her here, then tomorrow, during the Harrison family engagement party, strip her clothes off and dump her at the entrance.” Suffocation and terror washed over me like a flood. I forced myself to calm down. I feigned sleep, quietly pressing the panic button hidden in my bracelet. Asher had custom-made it for me, fearing something might happen. I could only hope this would work. The old wound on my wrist was bleeding from the ropes, and each press was excruciatingly painful. Meanwhile, Asher saw his phone’s notification light flashing repeatedly. He frowned, hesitating. Serena walked over, dressed in a wedding gown. “I remember the first time I wore a dress was on my birthday, but she ruined it in the end.” “But it doesn’t matter now. I get to wear the most beautiful wedding dress and marry the man I love most.” Asher’s heart softened. He pulled her into his arms, then freed a hand to permanently silence the flashing notification. I, on my 23rd press, heard an enraged male voice beside me: “Boss, this woman has an alarm!” The Harrison family was a big name, but C-City was just a smaller branch. Mr. Harrison, over 60 and a widower for many years, was still quite spirited, but couldn’t quite compare to the Davis family, bolstered by Asher’s connections. Even so, the engagement was planned to the highest standards, but Chloe, the main protagonist, was nowhere to be found. Asher, an invited guest, basked in the flattery of the crowd. He occasionally glanced towards the door. Since he’d cut off the notification light, Chloe hadn’t sent any more messages. Serena had said that Chloe was safely at home, so he figured it was just a small trick because she didn’t want to see him get engaged. If Chloe were to humble herself now, he could even go negotiate with Mr. Harrison. As long as she behaved and didn’t make a fuss, he wasn’t set on her marrying a sixty-year-old widower. Serena looked at the message on her phone: ‘Miss Davis, it’s all taken care of.’ Immediately, the entrance erupted into a commotion of screams and gasps. Serena’s heart leaped with joy. She clung to Asher’s arm. “What’s happening, Asher? Come with me to see.” At the hotel entrance, a crowd had gathered in a short time. Serena, holding Asher’s hand, walked forward. Seeing the figure struggling inside a large sack, the corners of her mouth curled up uncontrollably, yet she feigned a worried expression. “Asher, is it some troublemaker? Today is my sister’s big day.” Asher frowned, gesturing to his men to open the sack. Serena stared intensely at the sack, but gasped in fright when she saw the familiar scarred face. The moment the gag was ripped from Mick’s mouth, he saw Serena standing before him. “Miss Davis…” “Asher, he’s clearly a bad guy, hurry and drag him away!” Serena cried out in alarm, cutting off Mick. Perhaps Mick’s voice wasn’t loud enough, or Asher simply didn’t care to hear. He waved his hand, and the man was dragged away. The crowd hadn’t dispersed when a black Maybach slowly pulled up. The 60-year-old Mr. Harrison still looked quite energetic. Behind him followed an unfamiliar but distinctly refined face. Serena tugged on Asher’s arm. “Is that Chloe’s fiancé?”

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My crazy sister, completely hooked on soap operas, insisted on divorcing her husband, firmly believing a Billionaire would fall in love with her, a divorced woman with a child. I tried everything to dissuade her, and for a while, she seemed to calm down. But she just wouldn’t give up. To “accidentally” run into a Billionaire, she drained her savings on all sorts of high-end places. At one fancy hair salon, her mischievous son, Leo, grabbed a pair of scissors, planning to cut a customer’s hair. Luckily, I stopped him in time, preventing a disaster. But then, out of nowhere, another naughty kid copied Leo and snipped that same customer’s hair. And guess what? That kid’s mom ended up marrying into a wealthy family! When Chelsea found out, she completely lost it. She blamed me for ruining her chance with a Billionaire. She hit me with her car, leaving me paralyzed from the neck down. Then, she made Leo take the scissors and cut into my flesh. I was tortured to death. Before I took my last breath, I heard her whisper, full of venom: “Victoria, if there’s a next life, please, *please* don’t meddle in my business anymore!” The next moment, I opened my eyes. I was back at the time Chelsea was fighting with her husband about the divorce. I immediately raised both hands in support: “Do it! You absolutely HAVE to divorce him!”

After I said that, both Chelsea and her husband stared at me with shocked expressions. “Victoria, it’s bad enough Chelsea is being ridiculous, but why are you joining her?!” Ryan, her husband, practically yelled. “Do you even know why she wants to divorce me? She says she’s going to find true love with our son, and that *I’m* standing in the way of her marrying into a wealthy family!” “Chelsea, seriously, look at yourself! Do you honestly think a Billionaire would even glance at you? And with Leo, who’s just a complication, no Billionaire in their right mind would marry you!” In my past life, I, like Ryan, thought Chelsea was completely insane. But her brain had been so utterly poisoned by those soap operas. She genuinely believed she was the suffering heroine from one of those shows, waiting for her Billionaire savior to rescue her. Last time, I tried to reason with her: “Chelsea, honey, in those soap operas, when a Billionaire marries a woman with a child, it always turns out the kid is actually the Billionaire’s biological child.” “What kind of Billionaire would marry a divorced woman who already has a kid? Do you think those wealthy families would actually raise someone else’s son?” But Chelsea just scoffed: “That just means you haven’t watched enough soap operas! I’ve seen plenty where Billionaires marry divorced women with kids. Oh, just stop interfering in my life. Once I marry into a wealthy family, won’t you be living the good life too?” Eventually, I gave up. Ryan and I were practically on our knees begging her to reconsider. In the end, I had to promise her thirty thousand dollars for her to temporarily agree not to divorce Ryan. Now, I stood by Chelsea’s side: “I respect every decision Chelsea makes. She must have a plan for doing this! Divorce is a huge deal, she wouldn’t do it if she wasn’t sure!” Chelsea excitedly grabbed my hand: “Victoria, you’re the only one who understands me!” Understand you? How could I not? You lunatic, you practically ruined my life in the last one! “Ryan, if you don’t divorce me, I’ll sue you for adultery! I’ll even call the police and accuse you of domestic abuse!” Ryan’s face was beet red with anger. “Fine! Divorce then!” Finally, Chelsea got her divorce, just as she wished.

Just like in my previous life, Chelsea blew through money, dragging Leo to all sorts of high-end places. Today, she asked me to accompany her to an upscale salon to get Leo’s hair cut, and I knew the turning point was coming. The moment we walked into the salon, I spotted *the* Billionaire already there, talking to a stylist. Chelsea’s eyes lit up, and she nudged my elbow. “Victoria, did you see him? He’s definitely a rich guy.” “Soon, Leo will cut his hair, and then we’ll fall in love at first sight!” My eyes nearly popped out of my head. Had she been reborn too? Then she added: “I had a dream yesterday, and it was in this very salon. Leo was about to cut the Billionaire’s hair, but you stopped him.” “Then another kid did it instead, and that kid’s mom fell in love with the Billionaire and successfully married into his family!” “It actually woke me up, you know? That’s why I brought Leo here for a haircut today.” “This time, you are NOT allowed to mess things up for me, understand? If anything goes wrong because of you, I swear I’ll never forgive you!” *Phew*, I thought. Good thing she only dreamed about part of the last life. Otherwise, if she knew I’d also been reborn, how would I get to watch her self-destruct? “Don’t worry, Chelsea, you specifically told me not to, so how could I ruin your plans?” “Go ahead and do whatever you want, bravely! Whatever you do, I’ll support you!” Chelsea, touched, patted my hand: “Victoria, I’m so glad I have you! Everyone else thinks I’m crazy, but you’re the only one who supports me unconditionally!” “Of course! I’m your sister, after all! Our parents passed away early, and I raised you! So I have absolute faith in you. I know that anything you set your mind to, you can achieve!” Chelsea’s eyes welled up with tears. “Victoria, once I marry into the wealthy family, I’ll make sure you come live with us and enjoy the good life!” I nodded. “Okay, I’ll be waiting!” Leo had been playing with a pair of scissors the whole time. When he saw the Billionaire, who had just had his hair washed, sitting there, he crept up quietly. *Snip!* He cut off a huge chunk of the Billionaire’s hair. The Billionaire gasped, instantly touched his head, and let out a furious bellow: “Whose kid is that?!” Chelsea was ecstatic. She immediately rushed forward and took her son’s hand. “Oh, I’m so sorry, sir. My son was just playing, and I wasn’t watching him.” She even deliberately chose what she thought was her most flattering angle, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. The Billionaire looked like he was about to lose it. “Do you have any idea how important my image is? I have an international meeting tomorrow! How am I supposed to meet clients looking like this?” “I’m so sorry, I’ll definitely compensate you for your losses!” She pulled out her phone. “How about we exchange contact information? It’ll be easier to get in touch later.” “No need. Just contact my lawyer directly!” Chelsea grabbed the Billionaire’s arm. “Oh, come on! Even though I’m a single mom, I promise I’ll pay back every penny of what I owe! Not a single cent less!” “And if I really can’t afford it, well, marrying you is always an option too!” She even winked at the Billionaire. He got even angrier. “Let go!” He yanked his arm, pushing Chelsea so hard she landed squarely on her backside on the floor. “Running into someone like you first thing in the morning? What rotten luck!” Seeing the Billionaire about to leave, Chelsea scrambled up from the floor and chased after him. Just as the Billionaire got into his Maybach, she rushed over and grabbed the car door. “You can’t leave! We haven’t exchanged contact information yet!”

The Billionaire looked utterly disgusted, throwing out a cold, “Forget the compensation. Just get lost!” Chelsea still clung to the car door, refusing to let go. “No! We haven’t exchanged contact info, and I *have* to compensate you for this money!” To keep the Billionaire there, Chelsea shouted and tried to open the car door. But the door was locked, and she couldn’t budge it. The Billionaire said coldly, “Drive.” The driver immediately hit the gas. Chelsea was dragged along, but she still wouldn’t let go, screaming at the top of her lungs. “This is destiny, a fated love! We HAVE to exchange numbers, or who knows when we’ll meet again!” The Billionaire rolled up his window, completely ignoring her. After being dragged for hundreds of feet, Chelsea finally couldn’t hold on any longer and let go. I quickly ran after her with Leo. “Victoria, quick, call an ambulance!” Chelsea said that then passed out. I had no choice but to take her to the hospital. After the doctors examined her, they said she only had minor scrapes and bruises. I couldn’t help but roll my eyes. That woman truly had nine lives. During the few days I took care of her in the hospital, she was constantly glued to her phone, tinkering with something. The day she was discharged, she excitedly told me: “Victoria, I found out! My future husband’s name is Alexander Vance, and he’s the heir to Vance Group!” I just said, “Oh.” Chelsea grew even more excited: “If I go to his house as a maid, he’s definitely going to fall in love with me! After all, that’s how it always happens in the soap operas – the Billionaire falls for the housekeeper!” Sometimes, I honestly wanted to crack open Chelsea’s head and see what was rattling around inside. After she was discharged, she disappeared. Leo cried inconsolably, unable to find his mom. I had to take the child to Ryan, since I certainly wasn’t obligated to raise her kid. Three days later, the police called. “Are you Chelsea Vance’s sister? Chelsea Vance is suspected of unlawful entry, please come down to the police station.” I rushed to the police station and found a bruised and tearful Chelsea. “What happened?” “Victoria!” Before Chelsea could continue, Alex stormed over. “Can you control your sister?! If she has mental problems, send her to a psychiatric hospital! Don’t let her out to harm other people, please!” I was startled. “I’m so sorry, my sister doesn’t have mental problems. And she’s twenty-five years old, she’s responsible for her own actions!” “Chelsea, what exactly did you do?!” “She snuck into my house, crept into my bedroom, and almost *assaulted* me!” I was shocked again by Chelsea’s sheer audacity. “Could there be some misunderstanding?” “What misunderstanding?! She climbed in through the window, burst into the bathroom while I was showering and completely naked, and literally *pounced* on me!” “If I hadn’t pushed her off, my reputation would have been ruined! I’m pressing charges for attempted assault! I’m going to make sure she rots in jail!”

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Levi stood at the foster home entrance, his shirt worn thin. But my sister Vivian skipped to him and threw herself into his arms, cooing his name. In that instant I knew. Vivian had been reborn too. In our past life, when asked to choose between the city’s wealthy Prestons and the struggling Millers, Vivian had shoved me to the ground and sprinted for the sleek black limousine. “I’m not living in poverty, Skylar! You can wallow in misery all by yourself.” She got her wish. She lived in luxury, but the smile on her face faded with each passing day. Five years later, she was thrown out of the mansion and met a tragic end in a dirty alley. Meanwhile, I aced my exams, got into the best university, and studied abroad with Levi. With the blessing of our foster parents, we built a happy, fulfilling life together. Now, with this second chance, Vivian had chosen the exact opposite. I looked at Levi, the man I’d shared an entire lifetime with, waiting for him to speak. But he pulled Vivian behind him, his gaze icy as it fixed on me. “Stay away from her.” With Vivian’s triumphant stare burning holes in my back, I turned and walked toward the waiting stretch limousine. Perfect, I thought. I wanted a different life this time anyway.

“Get in, miss.” The Prestons hadn’t sent a welcoming committee, just a driver. On the way, he rattled off all the rules I’d need to follow once we reached the Preston estate. The car soon arrived. I followed the driver into a mansion that loomed like a palace of cold marble and soaring ceilings. “Madam, she’s here.” The elegant woman sipping tea on the sofa looked up, her gaze sweeping over me. She waved me closer. “Come here.” “What’s your name?” “Skylar.” The woman nodded. “Good. From now on, you’ll be Skylar Preston.” “Mr. Sterling, take her upstairs.” “Yes, Madam.” I trailed behind the butler, my steps quiet on the gleaming floors. The stair railing was carved from expensive sandalwood. Everywhere I looked, it screamed luxury. But honestly? I wasn’t all that impressed. In my previous life, I’d earned all this through my own grit and grind. Mr. Sterling glanced back at me, a flicker of surprise in his eyes. He pushed open a door, revealing a sprawling princess-themed room. “Miss, this will be your room from now on.” “You can rest for a bit. I’ll be back later.” I stepped inside, surveying my surroundings. The environment was exquisite. It was clear the Prestons spared no expense, even for an adopted daughter. The room exuded the refined luxury of high society. A wave of pure excitement surged through me. Last time, I had to claw my way up from nothing to earn a life like this. This time, with the Prestons’ power behind me? I was going to conquer the world.

I was lost in thought when shouts erupted behind me. The door burst open, and a basketball flew out of nowhere, hitting me square in the head with a dull thud. “Hey, you! Country bumpkin! Go get my ball!” a spoiled voice called out. I turned slowly. A boy who looked about my age, though taller, stood there. His chin tilted up in pure, unadulterated arrogance. If my memory served, this was Jax Preston, the family’s only son. He was the epitome of a spoiled heir, obsessed with racing and skydiving and completely uninterested in the family business. In my past life, a racing accident crushed his lower body, leaving him paralyzed. His temper became legendary after that. “Hey, what are you gawking at? Did you hear me?” His impatient voice cut through the air. I snapped back to reality, picked up the basketball, and handed it to him. Remembering the driver’s instructions, I softly said, “Here you go, Jax.” He paused, then sneered. “Playing nice already, huh? Think that’s gonna get you a piece of the Preston fortune?” He scoffed and walked off. Over the next few days, I rarely saw Mrs. Preston, and Jax was practically a ghost. Mr. Sterling took me around, helping me familiarize myself with the mansion. The entire estate was huge. After the tour, he handed me a schedule. It was packed with various business management courses. “Here is your class schedule. Beginning tomorrow, you will begin private lessons in corporate management. Mrs. Preston has arranged it all. Your sole focus is to apply yourself. Do well, and you will be rewarded.” “So, think you can handle it?” This was the kind of stuff Levi and I only got into when we started our own business in my last life. To be exposed to it at just fifteen? I was thrilled. I nodded. “Of course, I can.” A flicker of surprise crossed his face, but he said nothing, continuing to give me instructions. To ensure I didn’t fall behind on my middle school studies, Mrs. Preston also hired a private tutor for me. But I’d already mastered all of this in my previous life, so it was a breeze. In just one year, I absorbed all the knowledge and applied it flexibly. “This child is a fast learner! Not only has she mastered all the middle and high school subjects, but she can also grasp those complex professional corporate management courses.” The tutor praised me relentlessly to her. I sat quietly, listening. “At this rate,” he said, beaming, “Skylar won’t even need to finish high school! She could go straight to studying abroad!” But that wasn’t Mrs. Preston’s plan. She wanted me to accompany Jax through high school first, then go abroad with him. The official reason was “so you can look out for each other.” The real reason, which I understood perfectly, was to make me her wild son’s keeper. Mrs. Preston gave the tutor a generous bonus, and her gaze towards me held a new level of approval. “Come here.” She pulled me down to sit beside her, handing me an acceptance letter. “Well done. Since Jax’s grades aren’t improving, you’ll help him. I don’t expect miracles-just keep him from failing.” “Once you both graduate high school, I’ll send you abroad. How does that sound?” Without any preamble, Mrs. Preston laid out her demands. I didn’t hesitate. “Thank you, Mom.” Her eyebrows lifted, clearly pleased. She squeezed my hand tighter. “Good girl.”

As a reward, Mrs. Preston gave me a credit card and told me to enjoy a free day out. It was the most relaxed I’d been since coming to the Preston mansion. The driver dropped me off in the bustling city center, and I got out alone. I hadn’t walked far when a familiar figure appeared. It was Vivian, or rather, Vivian Miller now. She was standing on the roadside, under the scorching sun, handing out flyers. The Millers were practically penniless, with almost no spare cash, so it was no surprise she was forced to work to earn money. My past life had been just like that; during summer break, I’d juggle three jobs a day while still keeping up with my studies. Not only that, but I also had to help my foster parents with all sorts of chores. They claimed to treat us equally, but in reality, they never made Levi lift a finger. I even found out later that my foster parents had initially adopted me not because they wanted a sweet, affectionate daughter. But because they were looking for free labor. “Hello, would you like to see this?” A flyer was thrust in front of me. Vivian’s voice abruptly cut off when she looked up and saw me. “Skylar?” Noticing my luxury brand clothes and well-maintained skin, a flicker of jealousy crossed her face. She smiled. “You’re living pretty comfortably now, aren’t you? But don’t say I didn’t warn you, the Prestons are a family that’ll chew you up and spit you out. Mrs. Preston is far scarier than you can imagine. You’ll find out soon enough.” “Fine.” My flat reply annoyed her slightly. She began to boast about her foster family. “Mr. and Mrs. Miller are so good to me. My days are packed, and Levi even tutors me. And we were both admitted to Northwood High this year!” Northwood High… The acceptance letter Mrs. Preston had given me was also for Northwood High. Only students from influential backgrounds or those with exceptionally high grades were admitted. In my previous life, Levi and I were the ones who got in on merit. “Our lives are only going to get better, while you, well, you’re going to meet a tragic end on the streets.” She sounded absolutely certain. My lips parted, just as I was about to say something. “Vivian!” “Levi! What are you doing here?” Vivian beamed, throwing herself into Levi’s arms. Levi, carrying a lunchbox, handed it to her. “Mom told me to bring you lunch. It’s too hot and tiring at midday. Why don’t I take over for a bit?” “No thanks, Levi. I can do it.” The Millers would rather pinch every penny to send Levi to expensive tutoring than let Vivian take a single break. I was exploited the same way in my previous life. “You’re working hard.” As he spoke, Levi noticed me standing nearby. “Levi, this is Skylar, my sister. You met her at the foster home before.” Vivian introduced. Levi scrutinized me, his cold expression laced with a hint of disgust. He ignored me, turning to Vivian. “Don’t hang around with sketchy people. Let’s go.” Without giving me a chance to speak, Levi pulled Vivian away. “Levi, why were you so mean? What if you scared her?” “Silly Vivian, that person just now didn’t look like good news. You should stay away from her in the future, otherwise, who knows how she might hurt you behind your back.” Their sharp voices faded behind me. I couldn’t understand his sudden hostility, but the question only flickered briefly in my mind before vanishing. Instead, I took out the card Mrs. Preston had given me and went on a shopping spree, buying out half the luxury store.

When I emerged, laden with shopping bags, Vivian’s face was green. “Hmph, what’s there to be so proud of? You’ll still end up dead eventually. Not like Levi and me; we’re going to open a big company.” I chuckled, amused by her naivete. Then I turned and headed back to the Preston mansion. Actually, none of the things inside were for me. They were all for Mrs. Preston, Jax, and the other staff members in the house. When I got back, Jax was home, a rare sight. He saw me and sneered. “Well, well, been with us for only a short while and already hauling in bags? You really think the Prestons’ stuff is yours?” “Jax!” Mrs. Preston warned him, “She’s your sister.” Jax pouted. “Sister? What kind of sister? I don’t have a country bumpkin sister like her. It’s embarrassing to even be seen with her.” Jax and I never got along, so I wasn’t about to stick my head in the lion’s mouth. I pulled out the gifts one by one from the bags. “Mom, this is for you.” I handed her the gift box, which contained a sheer, silky scarf. Then I gave gifts to the other staff members who had been looking after me-Mr. Sterling and the housekeepers. I saw an expression of genuine satisfaction on Mrs. Preston’s face, different from her usual demeanor. Mr. Sterling and the other staff members also looked pleasantly surprised. Jax’s face fell immediately. “Hmph. You think you can bribe people with a few presents? You think you’re-” “Jax,” I cut in, acting as though I hadn’t heard him. “This one is for you.” I pulled out the final gift. It was a race car model. “I heard Mom say you like racing, so I bought this when I saw it at the mall.” He froze, mumbled something, and took it.

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In my previous life, Caleb’s first love died taking a knife for me. He hated my guts for it. He locked me away and subjected me to years of relentless torture, day and night. Until my twenty-second birthday. My body and mind were utterly exhausted, and I couldn’t take it anymore. I chose to slit my wrists. Before I lost consciousness, I saw Caleb’s bloodshot eyes. He warned me: “In your next life, don’t love me. And don’t ever stand between me and Luna again.” As he wished. When I woke up, I was sitting in my high school classroom. The clamor of a basketball game drifted in from the sports field outside the window. Caleb pushed the door open, casually tossing his jacket into my lap: “Hold this for me. Luna’s coming to watch the game later.” For the first time, I didn’t greet him with my usual eager smile. Caleb had no idea. In this life, I would automatically keep my distance from him. His school jacket floated lightly onto my desk. I subconsciously moved my wrist. There was no agonizing pain. These wrists, in my previous life, had been bound to the headboard of a bed with Caleb’s tie for seven whole days. All because, on the anniversary of Luna’s death, I still refused to admit guilt. Admit guilt for what? Luna was my older sister, the real daughter of the family. The moment she was found and brought home, she immediately won over everyone’s affection. I admit, I used to envy her. And for a long time, I resented her. Resented her for appearing and stealing my mom and dad. Stealing my Caleb. But she was so tiny and frail. When she was first brought back, her face was pale. She would only gently call me: “Rosie.” Suddenly, my heart softened. I thought, maybe having an older sister… wouldn’t be so bad. My parents said Luna wasn’t healthy. I needed to always give in to her. So, she wanted my room. I gave it to her. She wanted my dolls, I gave those too. She liked pretty dresses I had my eye on, I gave them all up. But when I started middle school, I found out Luna also liked Caleb. This time, I wasn’t giving way. He was my favorite Caleb, the one I’d grown up with since childhood. I couldn’t give him up. What I didn’t expect was that I only argued with Luna once. Just once. The cost, however, was a life. And my own miserable four years. Luna taking a knife for me was incredibly sudden. She fell into a pool of blood. Her last words were: “Rosie… I’m giving Caleb back to you. Please don’t blame me, okay?” At that moment, Caleb rushed over, and that’s the scene he saw. Luna had taken a knife for me. She bled profusely. And with her blood clotting disorder, she didn’t make it to the ambulance. She died on the spot. And her cryptic last words made Caleb hate me to the core. That day, my Caleb asked with a chillingly calm expression: “Rosie, why wasn’t it you who died?” It was only then that I knew. That afternoon, Luna had actually planned to confess her feelings to Caleb. But by an unfortunate coincidence, they ran into some hoodlums looking for a fight. In the chaos, she pushed me away.

It was strange. Everyone was strange. After learning Luna had died taking a knife for me, I became the target of everyone’s accusations. The home I’d lived in for over ten years was completely shattered. Dad’s hair turned white overnight. He told me: “You shouldn’t have lived.” Mom punched and kicked me, screaming hysterically: “You b*tch, you killed Luna! Give me back my Luna!” They stopped letting me go to school. They locked me in the basement for days on end. But… Why blame me, instead of the assailant? Wasn’t I the victim? Was being the one who lived the mistake? I didn’t know. I only knew, just as they said. I owed Luna for a lifetime, owed her my life. I stayed in that pitch-black basement for a long, long time. Until my eighteenth birthday. Caleb convinced my parents. Finally, they let me out. Seeing sunlight after so long, my legs felt weak. I could barely stand. Caleb didn’t say a word, just carried me on his back. Step by step, he walked all the way to Oxford. Oxford, that was the university I wanted to attend. And it was also Luna’s dream. In the season of blooming jacarandas, Caleb’s voice was very, very soft. “Rosie, do you know? This was Luna’s dream too, but she can never achieve it now.” I didn’t respond. I just silently cried on his back. This day was my eighteenth birthday. And it was Caleb’s last moment of tenderness towards me. After that, I was expelled from school. Locked away in the attic of the house. My parents went abroad, completely abandoning me. Caleb had no more reservations. At first, I would beg for mercy. “Please let me go, Caleb.” But the attic was so dark, so gloomy. Not a single ray of sunlight. Trapped inside, I lost track of time. Lost track of the seasons. Gradually, my mind began to unravel. On another anniversary of Luna’s death, when Caleb told me to kneel. We had a furious argument. “I won’t kneel!” “I hate her! I hate her! I hate all of you!” “I never asked her to save me.” “Just kill me, Caleb! Why don’t you just finish me off?” I must have been half-mad then. Caleb kicked me in the knee. He didn’t like it when I disobeyed. As punishment for talking back, he dislocated my wrist again. Binding me to the headboard in a humiliating position. Caleb’s tone was cruel. “Don’t blame me, Rosie, this is what you owe Luna.” “You’re not wronged. At least you’re still alive.” Oh. So my being alive. Was a mistake. Then I didn’t want to live anymore. On the night of my twenty-second birthday, I couldn’t bear it any longer. Blood soaked the sheets. I chose to slit my wrists. To fulfill their words: to give my life back to Luna.

Caleb’s handsome brows furrowed. He waved a hand in front of my eyes. “Rosie?” I snapped back to reality. The boy’s eyes were clear now. None of the gloom and hatred from the previous life. But I instantly jumped up. Putting as much distance between us as possible. “Um… I have something to do. I won’t be going to the basketball game.” “You guys go.” I was scared of Caleb. Truly scared. I trembled every time he came close. The person opposite me froze slightly. He seemed unaccustomed to me refusing him for the first time. After all, every interaction between us had always been me chasing after him. He thought for a long time before finally speaking: “Rosie, are you mad? Because I brought a gift for Luna the other day and not for you.” Mad? I gave a bitter laugh. What right did I have to be mad? In my previous life, Caleb never said he liked me, nor did he say he liked Luna. But he was always by Luna’s side. Yet I was blind. I deluded myself with foolish hopes. And competed with Luna. No wonder I met such a tragic end. The school bell rang on cue. If I remembered correctly, this was P.E. class. Classes 1 and 2 had a basketball game. Luna was in the next class, already standing at the door. Caleb finally didn’t say anything else, just glanced at me. Then he turned and ran towards Luna, who was waiting by the classroom door. Watching their shoulders side by side as they walked away. I let out a long sigh of relief. However, having just been reborn, I hadn’t even had a chance to properly enjoy the sunlight. When school was almost out, my mom’s phone call summoned me to the hospital again. The reason: Luna had an attack. And needed a blood transfusion. Just like in my previous life, whenever she needed it. I was still her walking blood bank. Actually, at first, Mom and Dad said Luna had a rare illness. And needed frequent blood transfusions. And when they found out my blood type matched perfectly. I was even quite relieved. Because I had so much blood. I could save my sister. I knew very early on that Mom and Dad loved Luna more. After all, Luna was their biological daughter. That was understandable. I only thought, if I could just be a little nicer to Luna, just a little more. My parents would be happy. And when they were happy, they would love me again too. But Luna was too greedy. She was always crying, always needing my blood. The increasingly frequent transfusions made it hard for me to cope. Especially when Caleb was around, it was particularly noticeable. Like right now. I took a cab and rushed over. Before I was pushed into the ward, Caleb hurriedly slipped a gift box into my hand.

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My roommate, Chelsea, who had interned at my mom’s company for three months, suddenly claimed to be pregnant with my dad’s baby. “Chloe, please, I’m begging you, make your dad acknowledge this child. I know I’m just a poor student and not good enough for your family’s status, but the baby is innocent…” I was completely flummoxed. “Chelsea, are you sure you have the right person? My dad passed away a long time ago.” The words had barely left my lips when my boyfriend, Albert, slammed a paternity test report onto my face. “Chloe King, to defend your father, you’d cook up a lie like that?” “Don’t think I don’t know, you’re just scared the baby Chelsea’s carrying will cut into your inheritance, right?!” Hundreds of thousands of viewers flooded the comments, cursing me out, saying I deserved to die for helping my scumbag father deceive someone. It wasn’t until I saw the so-called intimate photo on Chelsea Miller’s phone wallpaper that I burst out laughing. Turns out, the “baby daddy” she was talking about was my mom – all six feet of her, so striking, people often couldn’t tell her gender at first glance. So what was up with that paternity test report?

I was busy revising my graduation thesis when my boyfriend, Albert, suddenly called, his voice accusatory. “Chloe King, what the hell is wrong with you?! Chelsea is your roommate! How could you help your dad do something so disgusting?!” I couldn’t quite process it. “Albert, what are you talking about?” “Still playing dumb?!” Albert continued to roar into the phone. “Go watch Chelsea’s live stream yourself! She’s pregnant and standing outside your house! You and your father, the Kings, are truly a pair of despicable monsters!” The call was abruptly cut off. My fingers trembled as I clicked open SnapChat. The first thing I saw was a huge push notification: **[Poor Female Student, Unwed and Pregnant, Exposes Corrupt Businessman’s Deception, Only to Be Threatened by His Daughter and Cruelly Abandoned!]** The cover photo was my roommate, Chelsea Miller. She stood outside my house, her stomach slightly protruding, tears streaming down her face. Behind her, a crowd of angry netizens livestreaming on their phones had gathered. I rushed home. Sure enough, the entrance was swarming with people. When Chelsea saw me, she dramatically fell to her knees, her voice a desperate wail. “Chloe, I’m begging you, make your dad acknowledge this child! I know I’m just a poor student and not good enough for your family, but the baby is innocent…” The live stream comments instantly exploded. “Holy crap! The villain is here! So young, yet helping her own father deceive people, even preying on her roommate! How disgusting!” “Exactly! She looks like a good person, but her heart is so evil!” I was fuming, shaking with anger, and tried to pull her up. “Chelsea, get up! Explain yourself! Who deceived you? My dad has been…” Before I could say “dead” a tall figure suddenly burst forward. He pushed me aside, shielding Chelsea. It was my boyfriend, Albert. The look he gave me was filled with disappointment and disgust. “Chloe King, I never thought you’d be this kind of person! Chelsea is so pure and kind, yet you used her trust to trick her into your family’s company, letting your dad exploit her! You utterly sicken me!” Chelsea nestled into Albert’s arms, crying her eyes out. “Albert, don’t blame Chloe. It’s my fault for falling for someone I shouldn’t have. Chloe just doesn’t want her inheritance to be split with a younger sibling…” Seeing her fake demeanor, my stomach churned with disgust. As graduation approached, I noticed Chelsea only had $500 a month for living expenses and often couldn’t afford food. So, out of kindness, I offered her an internship at my mom’s company, paying $300 a day, plus free meals. She had thanked me profusely back then. Now, this is how she repays me? I was so angry I laughed. “Chelsea Miller, are you out of your damn mind?” “You keep claiming my dad deceived you, but his ashes have been cold for eight years! How could he possibly get you pregnant? In your dreams?” The crowd went silent for a moment. Chelsea lifted her tear-stained face, whimpering. “Chloe, how can you curse Mr. King like that? When I interned, I was with him every day. He even told me he was single and really admired me…” With that, she pulled out her phone and showed me her wallpaper. The photo showed someone in a crisp black suit, with slicked-back hair and features as handsome as a movie star, slightly tilted their head, listening to Chelsea speak. That profile, that aura—it was breathtakingly handsome. But my vision swam. That was my mom! Though my dad passed away early, my mom was incredibly capable, single-handedly keeping the entire company afloat. She was tall, with short hair, and always dressed in suits, exuding an imposing presence. Nine out of ten strangers mistook her for a successful, powerful CEO. I never imagined Chelsea would make the same mistake, but what about the baby in her belly?

I took a deep breath, trying to explain. “Chelsea, you’ve got it all wrong! That’s not my dad, that’s my mom!” The words had barely left my lips when Albert let out a scoff. “Chloe King, you really just lie without thinking! To avoid responsibility, you’d even change your own father’s gender?” “Your mom? Why don’t you say it’s your grandma?” The live stream comments erupted in mockery. “LOL, this woman is desperate, she’s talking nonsense!” “Exactly, she just doesn’t want to share her inheritance! Selfish and greedy, afraid of a younger sibling taking her stuff!” “Don’t worry, streamer, we support you! That scumbag must take responsibility!” Chelsea weakly tugged on Albert’s sleeve. “Albert, don’t say that about Chloe, she’s just having a hard time accepting it. Mr. King is so masculine, how could he be a woman?” Watching the two of them play off each other, I felt my blood pressure shoot up. I pulled out my phone, found the number saved as “The Dragon,” dialed it, and put it on speaker. A low, neutral voice answered. “Honey? What is it? I’m in a meeting!” I practically yelled into the phone. “Alex! What kind of mess have you gotten yourself into?! Someone’s at our door saying you got her pregnant!” My mom on the other end was silent for a few seconds, then suddenly snapped. “Watch your tone, young lady! I’m working myself to the bone every single day. When would I have time to father a love child? You’ve probably run into some scammer. Deal with it yourself!” Immediately after, the call was abruptly hung up. Chelsea’s face turned pale, and tears instantly welled up. “Everyone heard that, right? Chloe just called him ‘Dad,’ not ‘Mom.’ And she just lied, saying her dad was dead.” “Mr. King clearly said he liked me a lot. Chloe must be threatening him not to acknowledge me…” I was so angry I laughed. “Alex is my mom’s name! A powerful name for a powerful woman!” “My grandpa named her that, saying a woman needed a commanding presence so she wouldn’t be bullied…” But before I could finish, Albert cut me off. “Chloe King, that’s enough! The baby in Chelsea’s belly is your own brother! How can you be so vicious, not even giving him a chance?” Seeing him blindly defend Chelsea without bothering to learn the truth, my heart went cold. But mostly, I was furious at his stupidity. “Albert! Are you out of your damn mind?! The ‘Mr. King’ Chelsea is talking about is my mom!” “She’s a woman! How could she possibly get Chelsea pregnant? Did she impregnate her with her mind?!” But Albert wouldn’t believe it. “Mental impregnation? Chloe King, you’re getting more ridiculous by the second!” The people who came with Chelsea, calling themselves online judges, sneered. “Where’s the proof? You say she’s a woman, and we’re supposed to believe it?” “They’re definitely in cahoots, the father and daughter, that’s why the scumbag is avoiding them!” “Poor streamer, her youth and good years wasted by a monster roommate and an old man!” Chelsea clutched her waist, looking like she might faint at any moment, and cried into the camera. “I know my family isn’t well-off, and I’m not worthy of the King family, but I truly love Mr. King. I don’t ask for a title, just for my child to have a legitimate identity.” “Chloe, you get $600,000 a month for living expenses! Just a little bit of that money would be enough for my baby and me to live comfortably for life. Why do you have to be so cruel?” Her words instantly ignited the anti-rich sentiment among the onlookers and online viewers. “$600,000 a month? No wonder she’s so arrogant!” “Exactly, that money must be dirty. We need to report her and demand an investigation!” “Support the streamer! Give birth to that son and inherit the family fortune, just to piss off this evil older sister!” Watching Chelsea’s pathetic act, I felt sick to my stomach. I must have been blind to think she was innocent and pitiful.

“Chelsea Miller, stop your acting! My mom is a woman, that’s an undeniable fact!” “The baby in your belly has absolutely nothing to do with my family!” To prove my innocence, I rushed back inside, found my dad’s death certificate, and shouted. “Look closely! My dad, David King, passed away in a car accident eight years ago!” Seeing the death certificate, the crowd quieted down again, and some faces showed hesitation. A flicker of panic crossed Chelsea’s eyes, but she quickly suppressed it. She clutched her stomach, her voice tearful. “This certificate must be fake! Chloe, you’d even forge a death certificate just to avoid acknowledging your little brother…” Albert, hearing this, snatched the certificate, ripped it to shreds without even looking, and yelled. “Chloe King, you came well prepared to deny the baby in Chelsea’s belly, even getting a fake document in advance!” “If Mr. King really is a woman, would you dare let us check her bedroom?” The surrounding crowd started to chant. “Yes! Let the facts speak for themselves! Fakes can’t be real, and real things can’t be faked! If you don’t let us see, it means you’re hiding something!” Incited by provocateurs, the crowd started pushing their way into my house, unstoppable. Chelsea had been to my house before and led them straight to my mom’s master bedroom on the second floor. The door swung open, revealing a massive walk-in closet. Inside, rows of designer menswear hung neatly—not a single piece of women’s clothing could be found. Chelsea looked as if she’d caught me red-handed, her face alight with excitement. “Everyone, look! If Mr. King is a woman, why are there only men’s clothes in her closet?” The public opinion, which had just wavered, swung back again. “Exactly! This is solid proof now! That death certificate must be fake!” “This Chloe King is full of lies, all to monopolize the family fortune!” “So selfish, she can’t even tolerate her unborn brother!” Albert looked at me coldly. “Chloe King, what else do you have to say?” I was speechless, veins throbbing in my forehead. “My mom is tall, women’s clothes don’t fit her well, she just likes wearing neutral clothing! What can I do about that?” “Besides, who says women can’t wear men’s clothes?” “Oh yeah? Then explain this!” Chelsea suddenly pulled a report from her bag and slammed it down in front of me. “If he’s a woman, how do you explain this?” Seeing the conclusion on the last page of the report, my mind went completely blank. Paternity probability: ninety-nine percent. It supports Alex King as the biological father of the fetus. My hand, holding the report, trembled slightly. A massive sense of absurdity threatened to drown me. How was this possible? My mom was clearly a woman; how could she have gotten Chelsea pregnant?

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When we were planning our Christmas show, Tiffany, our queen bee, convinced everyone to chip in for matching uniforms. But when the uniforms arrived, mine was a joke. The fabric was thin and scratchy, and the size I had ordered as a 3XL had been swapped for a Small. I went to Tiffany to ask for an exchange. She cut me off impatiently. “You’re bigger than everyone. Your uniform costs more. What quality did you expect? Maybe if you weren’t so fat, you wouldn’t have this problem. Figure it out.” After humiliating me, she turned and walked away. But when I refused to just accept the uniform, she panicked. Tiffany’s humiliating words cut through the room. Every classmate turned to stare, their judgmental eyes burning into me. Tiffany didn’t care. She pressed on, sharp and merciless.. “Let’s be real, you’re fat. If you were thinner, it would fit. It’s that simple.” “This was a custom order with our names on it. You can’t just return it just because you feel like it.” “Just make it fit. Stop being so difficult!” I bit my lip white, still struggling to be heard. The fabric was cheap and rough. It was not smooth like the others. And the size was wrong. This was not the 3XL I ordered. Everyone else was in their perfec uniforms. I stood there, a misfit. I took a breath, shut out their stares, and spoke. “Tiffany, never mind the quality. This uniform is too small. I can’t even get into it.!” The words had barely left my mouth when Tiffany’s face twisted with impatience. “I said no!” She yelled. “How do I know you didn’t just mess up your own size? And besides, we’re not that close!” I instinctively took a half-step back, my voice dropping. “Sorry, I-” Ashley, Tiffany’s friend, cut me off. “Oh my god, you fat pig, you’re doing too much! You filled out the form yourself, and now you’re complaining it’s too small? What do you even want?” “You’re being so pushy! She’s not your nanny. Who do you think you are, some kind of princess?” I shook my head, trying to deny it. But Ashley wasn’t listening. “Well, can’t you just squeeze your fat into it then? How small can it possibly be?” Just then, Tiffany, who had been quiet, spoke up. Her voice carried a strange, wounded tone. “Chloe, are you trying to cause trouble on purpose? You clearly filled out a Small yourself. Why are you trying to make it look like I deliberately ordered the wrong size for you?” With that, she pulled up the digital form where we’d submitted our sizes. I leaned in, my heart sinking. My size was listed as S, not the 3XL I knew I had entered! Before I could process it, others crowded around to see. Someone snatched the uniform from my hands to check the tag. “It is a Small,” they said, their eyes sweeping over me without a hint of shame. “Of course it doesn’t fit. Is she pretending to be skinny or something? She filled it out herself, so who knows what she’s trying to pull.” “Seriously?” another voice chimed in. “I’m 110 pounds and I wear a Large. You, at over 200, put down an S? The audacity.” “She’s so disgusting. She messed up her own order and has the nerve to blame Tiffany.” Their words came at me, one after another, suffocating me. I gained weight two years ago because I was sick and on hormone medication. After I recovered, I tried desperately to lose weight, but with little success. Now, it had become their weapon to attack me. I looked at them, enunciating each word. “I reported 3XL. I’m fat, and I’m well aware of it.”

Tiffany suddenly stepped forward, glaring at me and speaking loudly. “So, you’re saying we changed it? Seriously, no one is that bored, Sweetie!” “If you’re really that bothered, I’ll pay for a new custom one for you myself. What bad luck to run into someone like you.” Seeing this, the other classmates grew even more disgusted with me. “Fat pig, is this really necessary? You’re not going to let Tiffany off the hook, are you?” “First you accuse her of changing your size, and now you want her to pay for a new uniform? Have you no shame at all?” I swallowed the bitter taste rising in my throat. “That’s not what I mean. Even if I made a mistake with the size, there are plenty of people here wearing a Small. So why is mine the only one made from this cheap, scratchy fabric?” As I spoke, I pushed my uniform towards them. Tiffany’s eyes flickered. She snatched my uniform, holding it close as if to inspect it. “Oh really? Well, Well, why didn’t you just say that from the beginning?” But I had. I’d brought up the quality first. She was the one who had cut me off, citing my size as the cause for the cheap material. She knew she’d been caught. She threw my uniform back at me, pushing all the blame back onto my shoulders. “Next time, just get to the point, okay? Don’t beat around the bush like this. It’s exhausting!” Ashley also chimed in.”Seriously, a simple explanation would have saved us all this drama.” I let out a deep breath. I honestly didn’t know what the “point” was-the size or the quality. It was obvious that only my uniform had both the wrong quality and the wrong size. Seeing me fall silent, Tiffany snorted. “Fine,” she said, her tone dripping with condescension. “Just send me your size and the money. Don’t waste any more of our time.” “Everyone wears a uniform. Ruin the performance without one, and Mr. Miller will have your head. Don’t expect me to save you.” She paused, then shot me a glance and continued, “Don’t say I didn’t warn you! The district officials are coming to this performance, and it affects our school’s funding for next year. If you hold us back, you’ll face the consequences alone!” I didn’t rush to answer. Instead, I looked directly at her and retorted, “But I’ve already paid for the uniform. The vendor made a mistake, so why should I have to pay again?” Tiffany exploded. “The vendor had a problem? What about your problem? You messed up the size yourself!” “I’ve never seen someone as shameless as you. Do you expect the vendor to just do it for free?” “And this is a designer uniform! Do you think it’s some cheap thing from a discount store, that you can just return it whenever you want?” I bit my lip hard. I had double-checked the size when I filled out the form. And I was the only one in the entire class who had put 3XL. I even specifically mentioned it to Tiffany. Tiffany pushed me, her face darkening. “Speak up! Are you refusing to pay?” I lost my footing and stumbled back a few steps. Tiffany got even angrier, her eyes blazing. “What are you acting like, you fat pig! You’re so heavy, how could I possibly push you? Do you think you’re some delicate little thing?” “It’s absolutely disgusting! If you don’t want to pay, just say so. Don’t waste everyone’s time here!” Hearing her mock my weight again, I clenched my fists, my jaw trembling with rage. “I didn’t say I wouldn’t pay. It’s just not my fault, so I shouldn’t have to.” Tiffany crossed her arms and sneered. “Fine, I won’t push it. If you want to be cheap, we can all chip in.” “There are fifty of us besides you. Can everyone just contribute ten bucks? I don’t want to waste any more time.” She looked at me, her tone dripping with passive-aggression. “Otherwise, people might think I’m bullying you.” Her words were clearly mocking me, implying I was faking pity. Faced with her humiliating suggestion of a collection, I finally looked up and raised my voice. “No need. As you said, if I made a mistake with the size, then the vendor also made a mistake with the fabric. I’m willing to negotiate with the vendor myself.” “Can you give me the contact information for the custom uniform vendor?” Tiffany stared at me for a long time, then seemed to concede. “Fine, fine, I’m just tired of dealing with someone as nitpicky as you. Transfer the money to me, and I’ll handle the vendor.” “Honestly, I’ve never met anyone so slow!” I turned away without another word. The show was over, and the audience dispersed, heading back with their uniforms.

Tiffany kept saying she’d handle the negotiations. But as Christmas performance day approaching, and my uniform was still nowhere to be found. Everyone else came and went, wearing their new uniforms. I sat in a corner, feeling like a total outsider. People started ignoring me. If I took an extra bite during meals, I’d be laughed at and called a fat pig. When I practiced the routine in my own clothes, people would always stare. The uniform became an obsession. I carried the weight of it everywhere. I even secretly took pictures of the other uniforms, desperately trying to find the vendor. But no one sold this specific custom design. Left with no choice, I contacted Tiffany again. “Has the uniform exchange been processed?” Her reply came much later. She ignored my question entirely, zeroing in on my phrasing. “Is that how you ask for a favor? Where are your manners? Not even a ‘hello’?” I stared at the screen, baffled. Wasn’t my question polite enough? Still, I tried again, forcing patience into my words. “Hello, Tiffany. Has the vendor given you an update on the exchange?” She still dodged the question. “Use ‘please’ ! I’m the Tiffany! Do you have manner? You’re impossible!” “But I’m a bigger person, so I’ll let this small thing slide! I’ll tell you when the uniform arrives!” The words I wanted to say got stuck in my throat. I was just asking a normal question, did she really need to get so angry? At two in the morning, my phone started blowing up with messages. I groggily answered the FaceTime call, and Tiffany’s angry shouts came through. “Are you dead? Why are you answering so late?” “Didn’t you see all the messages I sent you?” I checked the time and frowned. “Sorry, my phone was on silent, I didn’t hear it. What’s up?” She said a nonchalant. “It’s nothing big. The uniform is back.” Hearing that, my heart leaped with joy. Just as I was about to speak, her furious voice erupted again. “I’ve been running around, dealing with your uniform, and you can’t even say thank you?” “Seriously, I don’t know how your parents raised you! So ill-mannered!” A knot of anger formed in my chest. I opened my mouth to argue, but she hung up directly. The next day, the day of the Christmas performance. Tiffany finally sauntered over with my uniform and threw it at me. “Go change into your uniform quickly! Don’t hold everyone up!” “I already stressed that the district officials are coming to this Christmas performance. If anything goes wrong, don’t blame Mr. Miller for kicking you out of our class.” I picked up the new uniform she’d had custom-made and saw the size printed on it. It felt like something exploded in my head. XS size! This uniform was even smaller than the last one. So small I probably couldn’t even get my leg into it. I pushed open the bathroom door and shoved the uniform directly into Tiffany’s face. “Tiffany, this is XS! Can’t you tell the difference between 3XL and XS? Why did you get the smallest size again?!” Tiffany slapped my hand away, fuming. “I told the vendor to make the largest size! How was I supposed to know they’d send an S? It’s the vendor’s fault, not mine! What good does it do to blame me?” “You are such a pain! I can’t deal with this anymore. Figure out your uniform situation yourself!” I stared at her for a long time. “Fine, I’ll figure it out myself.” She turned and walked away. I looked at the XS uniform in my hand and tried it on. But that tiny, almost childlike garment made me break down again. The horn for the Christmas performance sounded. Tiffany’s urgent message came through. “Gather up! If the uniform’s too small, just wear it anyway and get over here!” I tossed the uniform aside. In the very last second before our formation was about to go on stage, I rushed to the field. Mr. Vance, who had been waiting at the venue, frowned when he saw me. “What’s wrong with this class? So undisciplined! Why aren’t their uniforms uniform, everyone wearing their own thing?” Hearing that, Tiffany spun around, her eyes, spitting venom, locking onto me. She screamed without restraint. “Chloe! I told you to wear your uniform!”

I wasn’t flustered in the slightest. I challenged her openly. “I wanted to ask you the same thing! You prepared uniforms that were too small for me twice! How long are you going to keep targeting me like this?” Publicly called out, Tiffany exploded in rage, cursing and reaching out to hit me. “Damn it, you absolute bitch! What are you talking about?! When have I ever targeted you?! Do you have a death wish?!” “Tiffany!” The slap never landed. It was cut short by Mr. Miller’s sharp, commanding voice cutting through the air. Mr. Miller’s face had turned a ghostly pale. Beside him, Vice Principal Thompson was visibly shaking with rage, his jaw clenched and fists tight. On the stage, the district official glanced at Principal Evans, a dry, humorless smile on his lips. “The ‘culture’ here at your school is certainly…unique.” Mr. Evans forced a smile. “Please excuse us, Mr. Vance. These kids are just playing around.” He probably thought Mr. Vance would drop the matter to save face. But he didn’t. He continued, as if to himself, “Playing around? It looked like bullying to me!” Those words sent a chill down Mr. Evans’s spine. He lowered his head and shot Mr. Miller a look, urging him to quickly get us out of there. He then changed the subject. “No, no, that’s not it at all! Let’s watch the next class’s formation, I guarantee it won’t disappoint you!” Because our class was the first to perform, we left a bad impression on Mr. Vance right from the start. As a result, he barely paid attention to the subsequent performances. As soon as they were over, he made an excuse and left. Our class was kept back, and everyone remained silent. Only Tiffany was covering her face and crying. As soon as she saw Mr. Miller and Mr. Thompson appear, she choked up and ran to them, sobbing. “Mr. Miller, help me! I really wasn’t targeting Chloe. It’s her own fault for being too fat, that’s why the uniform seams ripped.” Mr. Miller remained silent, but Mr. Thompson snorted. “Then how do you explain secretly switching her 3XL uniform to an S-size?” “I just heard about this on my way over! Chloe’s uniform was replaced twice, and both times it was unwearable. What are you going to do about it?” “Are you sure this isn’t targeting?” Yes. That was the question. If this wasn’t targeting, what was it? If the first wrong size was a genuine mistake, I would have accepted it. But the second time, I confirmed my size was 3XL, repeatedly. What arrived was an XS. And after trying it on for just a few minutes, a red rash had already bloomed around my neck-proof of the uniform’s toxic quality. Wasn’t all this targeting? A mistake could happen once, but twice? Tiffany sobbed, trying to defend herself. “This really isn’t my fault. Maybe the vendor was negligent.” “Besides, maybe it’s because Chloe is too fat, and they just didn’t have enough fabric, so they could only make a smaller size. How is that my fault?” Mr. Thompson, being a reasonable man, didn’t buy her nonsense. He pointed at the uniform I’d taken off, gritting his teeth. “Isn’t this supposed to be a designer brand? Such a big company doesn’t have enough fabric to make clothes?” “Send me the manufacturer’s contact information. I’ll call them personally. I want to see how they make their clothes!” This made Tiffany panic. She clutched her phone, frozen. Mr. Thompson’s tone was unyielding as he repeated, “Did you hear me? Send me the manufacturer’s contact information!”

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After I was reborn, my first priority was to cancel our anniversary trip with my husband, Leo. I was still trying to figure out how to tell him that our booked flight was destined to crash. Then I overheard him on the phone with Stella, his childhood sweetheart. “With this second chance,” he said, “I finally see clearly. You’re the one. The regret I can’t live with.” That night, he came to me. “Iris, why don’t you go ahead tomorrow without me? Something’s come up. I’ve rescheduled my flight.” In that moment, I knew the truth. Leo had been reborn too. And this time, he had chosen to let me die alone. Seeing me dazed, he stepped closer and repeated himself. “What’s wrong? Not happy?” “Silly, I’ll rush to meet you the moment I wrap things up here..” The bitterness in my chest spread to the tip of my tongue. My clenched fingers dug deep into my palms. My body trembled, almost uncontrollably. My thoughts were a tangled wreck. The words spilled out before I could stop them. “Then I’ll reschedule with you. We can go together after you’re done.” But his eyes skittered away, a flash of pure panic. He couldn’t meet my gaze. “You still go first. The change fees are outrageous. It’s a waste of money.” “Be good. I’ll drive you to the airport tomorrow.” With that, he decided for me. Without waiting for a reply, he muttered something about work and retreated to his study. Countless questions warred in my mind, rendering me momentarily speechless. I didn’t even know where to begin. After a daze, I pulled out my phone to check our flight tickets. I tried to delude myself, searching for any evidence that the plane crash was just a nightmare, that Leo and I hadn’t been reborn at all. But the stark, familiar flight number glaring from the screen sent a searing pain through my pupils, scorching my very soul. The pilot’s final announcement began to echo incessantly in my ears, each word etched into my mind. “The flight is going down. Passengers, please help one another and stay strong…” This year was our fifth wedding anniversary. Before takeoff, I’d been excitedly chatting about our plans. He was distracted, constantly checking his phone. I finally asked, “Are you waiting for someone’s message?” He just said, “No, just checking the time.” It wasn’t until we hit violent turbulence over the Caspian Sea that I was truly terrified. I clung to Leo, sobbing. He fixed an oxygen mask over my face, helped me into a life vest, and held me steady. Then he held my face, his voice urgent but calm. “Iris! Listen to me…” “No matter what happens, I’ll be with you.” “But… if I’m not here, and you have a chance to survive, you must live on. You have to live a good life.” A love forged in the face of death should be unforgettable. So why, when given a second chance, did his choice change?

I hadn’t slept at all. At eight sharp, Leo knocked on my bedroom door. “Honey, are you awake?” “We’ll be late if you sleep any longer. Come on, up you get.” I dragged myself out of bed and opened the door. He looked refreshed after a night in his study, while I was completely exhausted. He seemed willfully blind to the shadows under my eyes. He gently pushed me into the bathroom to get ready. When I emerged, our luggage was already packed and waiting by the door. “This early? The flight isn’t until noon.” He just smiled, ruffled my hair, and handed me a boiled corn and a coffee. “Better to be safe than sorry. I’ve got some things to take care of later.” With that, he picked up the suitcases and walked out. On the way to the airport, he didn’t connect his phone to the car’s Bluetooth as he always did. Instead, he placed it on his left, occasionally glancing at incoming messages, an unconscious smile flickering on his lips. After we arrived, I hesitated before security. He gave me a gentle push. He gave me a gentle push. “It’s the same waiting inside. Iris, I really have to go now. The company is waiting.” I couldn’t help but let out a cold laugh. Was he really… hoping I’d die? I picked up my luggage, passed through security, and sat down at the gate. I secretly pulled Leo’s tablet from my bag. I’d taken it from his study that morning. His SnapChat was still logged in. The top contact, saved as “Sweetheart,” was Stella, his childhood sweetheart. Last night, Leo and Stella had been on a FaceTime call for five hours, from ten at night until four in the morning. Even after hanging up, they couldn’t get enough of each other. Leo: “I’ll see you tomorrow. Too excited to sleep.” Stella: “Silly, we have a lifetime together ahead of us.” Leo: “You didn’t have a wedding the first time you got married. When we get married, I’ll make sure you have an unforgettable ceremony.” Stella: “I’ll go confront him tomorrow about a divorce. What about you? When will you tell Iris?” Leo: “Don’t worry, I’ll handle it.” The tablet in my hands felt like it was about to snap. Of course, he’d handle it. He wouldn’t even need to mention divorce. Because, he’s waiting for me to die… I opened Leo’s Ins feed. He had posted something visible only to Stella. “You are the regret of my youth, and the joy of my future.” The photo accompanying it was their high school graduation picture. Two innocent-looking teenagers, holding hands in their school uniforms. And on his Ins feed, all posts related to me had been deleted overnight. Tears splashed onto the screen. The boarding announcement began. I sniffed, grabbed my luggage, and walked towards the gate.

Reborn, I wasn’t sure if this flight would crash again. I guessed Leo wasn’t sure either, which was why he was waiting. Ten minutes before the plane doors closed, I grabbed my luggage, preparing to get off the plane. The flight attendant asked me, confused, “Ma’am, is everything alright? Do you need any help?” I said, “I suddenly have a fear of flying, and my heart feels uncomfortable.” “I’m voluntarily ending my trip.” After the flight attendant consulted with the pilot, they let me leave. I returned to the boarding gate, standing by the glass window, watching the plane taxi to the runway. Then it gradually ascended, disappearing from my sight. I had thought about warning the people on the plane that it might crash. But rebirth felt too ethereal. I was afraid they’d think I was crazy. So, I could only pray in my heart for their safe journey. I sat in the airport for three hours, constantly staring at Leo’s chat logs. After dropping me off at the airport, he had immediately gone to meet Stella. They met at a hotel. He had screenshotted the group-buy room details and a delivery order for condoms, sending them to her. He asked her, “Is there anything else you need me to prepare?” She replied, “I heard men aren’t so good after twenty-five. Are you ready?” He answered, “Maybe not for others, but for you, you’ll be the one screaming you’re done.” Shortly after that message was sent, a notification popped up on the screen: a consumption record. The details showed a pharmacy, male enhancement products. I took photos of all the content in their chat and then took a cab to the old house where Leo and I used to live. Leo and I were college classmates. Though he struggled financially, he was handsome and academically gifted, which made teachers and classmates alike want to look out for him. My mother, who was also his professor, was especially kind. She often invited him home for dinner and bought him clothes and daily necessities, treating him almost as her own son. At that time, I only saw him as a classmate. I never thought about dating him. It wasn’t until shortly after college graduation that my mother passed away from cancer. Leo, along with other classmates, came to mourn my mother. But while others left, he stayed. He helped me tirelessly with all the funeral arrangements. My father had left when I was very young. After my mother passed, I felt like an orphan. Friends and relatives urged me to be strong. But those two words were easy to say, yet so incredibly difficult to embody. Thankfully, Leo stayed by my side during that time. He told me, “Iris, I’m here for you.” “Your mother was so kind to me. Now that she’s gone, I’ll take care of you for the rest of my life.” At first, I didn’t want to accept his kindness. A part of me was afraid of falling for him. But no matter how hard I tried to push him away, he remained steadfastly by my side Everything changed on the first anniversary of my mother’s death. Grief-stricken, I drank too much. I kissed him wildly, tearing at our clothes and pulling him onto the bed. He didn’t refuse me. His touch was nothing but gentle. The next morning, I told him we could pretend it never happened. But Instead, he immediately asked me to marry him. I was stunned for a moment, then hesitantly refused. “I don’t want you to marry me out of gratitude.” “You’ve already repaid your debt to my mother.” He didn’t say anything, just got dressed and left. I thought he would never come back. But to my surprise, less than an hour later, he reappeared, breathless, with flowers, a ring, and breakfast. “I want to marry you because I genuinely love you, Iris.” “Not for anyone else, only for you.” That ring, which he bought with all the money he had, is still on my hand today. Even though he bought me many other rings later, I never replaced it. I opened the door to the old house. Having been empty for so long, the air seemed to float with endless dust. The familiar scene made me feel like I was witnessing Leo’s proposal again. I chuckled self-deprecatingly. I took off the ring on my right ring finger and placed it on the console by the entrance. Perhaps he and I were a mistake from the very beginning.

In the afternoon, I was so tired that I drifted off to sleep on the sofa. I was woken by a series of phone calls. All my friends were calling me. Messages flooded in, one after another. “Iris! Are you okay?” “You’re not on the plane, are you? Please tell me you’re not!” “I’m begging you, text me back…” “Leo wasn’t on the plane, right? Why did you go alone?!” I glanced at the time: 8:30 PM. I numbly searched for news about the flight. The top trending headline read: Air disaster, crashed into the sea, no survivors. Those keywords flashed before my eyes. I understood then; the accident still happened. I didn’t immediately reassure everyone. Instead, I wanted to see Leo’s reaction. He posted a tribute online, titled “In Loving Memory of My Deceased Wife.” It was a rambling, thousand-word essay explaining that he couldn’t go with me due to an emergency. He also recounted our story, how we met and fell in love. He played the role of the devoted husband, his words brimming with apparent grief. He even declared that whether I was alive or dead, he would love me forever. He wrote that after the funeral, he would adopt a child to be “our child.” The picture accompanying the post was our wedding photo. Only, my half of the photo had been photoshopped in black and white, while his half remained vibrant red. In the comments, many comforted him, telling him to accept his condolences. Some even transferred him money, calling it a small token of sympathy. A sharp pain twisted in my chest. I opened his chat with Stella. Stella: “Iris is gone?” Leo: “Yeah, it was an accident.” Stella: “Then what about us… if we get together now, everyone will trash me.” “Leo, I’m with you because of love. I don’t want people to think I’m a home-wrecker because of this.” “You promised you wouldn’t let me get hurt.” Leo sent several sixty-second voice messages, continuously coaxing her, reassuring her of his feelings. He said, “Regardless of whether this accident happened, you are the only one I love.” “Please don’t leave me, you’re all I have left…” “After Iris’s funeral, we’ll get married.” “And we’ll bring you and his child to live with us.” “We’ll tell everyone it’s a child I adopted for Iris.” “Don’t worry, I would never let you be wronged.” “As for Iris’s inheritance, her mother’s old house, I’ll transfer it to the child.” A wave of bitter anger rose in my chest, so potent it felt suffocating. My hands trembled violently. How could he shamelessly say such things? I took several deep breaths to calm the choking emotions. So be it. If he’s so eager to hold my funeral, I’ll be sure to give him a parting gift he’ll never forget.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “306461”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster #浪漫Romance #现实主义Realistic #重生Reborn