Category: English

Prologue Bid Farewell to the Past I traveled through time and space and became the heroine of sad romance fiction. On the day I cut my wrist, the hero of the fiction brought his first love home from abroad. He sneered and said, “Didn’t you say that you could tolerate anything as long as you could marry me? It’s just an appetizer, but you can’t stand it.” His first love said, “It was me who he loved. If you hadn’t threatened him with his mother’s life, he wouldn’t have been with you. Now it’s time to return him to me.” My mother-in-law, who has been saved by me, said coldly, “I will return the money to you. Can you let go of my son? It’s good for everyone if you get divorced.” I was not going to divorce. Because he was about to die.

True Love I had expressed my love to Ethan Grant, my brother, while I was slapped and left by him abroad. He left me to fend for myself. Eight years later, he drunkenly knocked on my door in the middle of the night. He hugged me and cried, “Jenny, don’t leave me behind.”

I’m the illegitimate daughter of a powerful figure in Washington, and my mother was his first love. To provide a kidney transplant for his other daughter, he brought me back from overseas. The first time I met her, she cried and threw herself at me, but whispered in my ear: “You bitch!” Then she pushed me away and deliberately fell down the stairs. My biological father slapped me hard across the face: “You’re as vicious as your mother.” He still doesn’t know that my mother is already dead.

On the day I, Zoey Snyder, left to study abroad, my boyfriend Joel Lakin personally drove me to the airport. On his way back, he hit someone. The victim was a terminal cancer patient who deliberately rushed in front of his car to scam him, but ended up losing her life. Joel, being kindhearted, not only took the initiative to compensate but also secretly brought the victim’s daughter, Isla Reid, home to care for her without telling me. Three years later, I returned after completing my studies. The first time Isla saw me, she frantically threw herself into his arms, as if she was terrified of me. When I questioned Joel, he said, “If I hadn’t driven you to the airport, I wouldn’t have killed her mother. We’re both responsible.” So I proposed breaking up and chose to marry my adoptive brother Kaleb Snyder, arranged by my grandfather Carlos Snyder. At the engagement ceremony, Joel acted like a madman trying to take me away, saying I was the only person he’d ever love in this lifetime. I sneered, “Joel, what makes you think I could possibly want you back?”

When my mom Sophia Barnes came to pick me up from school, that girl who’d been bullying me, Aurora Palmer, was standing on my head. “Could you tell me your name, young lady?” Sophia flashed her a composed smile. “Please don’t,” I desperately shook my head at Aurora. Unfortunately, she completely ignored my warning and smugly announced that her father was New York’s wealthiest man, Raymond Palmer. A week later, Sophia and Raymond’s wedding hit the trending topics.

Eight Christmases ago, my boyfriend Liam Mitchell held my hand and said, “Once I make it with my startup, I’ll give you the good life you deserve.” To support him, I gave him all my savings, sold my house, and even racked up millions in debt. We crammed into a rundown rental that cost fifteen dollars a day, surviving on three part-time jobs. Until one day, I collapsed at the factory and was diagnosed with terminal stomach cancer. Just as I was debating whether to tell him the news, I received a livestream link from Eleanor Baker, his childhood friend. I clicked on it and saw Liam in a custom-tailored suit, slipping a ten-million-dollar diamond ring onto Eleanor’s finger under dazzling fireworks. The screen was flooded with comments. [Mr. Mitchell spoils Ms. Baker so much. That diamond ring on her hand could feed that beggar Caroline Thompson for ten lifetimes.] [When will Caroline’s livestream shut down? I just want to see her face when she learns the truth.] [Soon. They’ve already changed the stream’s name. Then we’ll get to watch her get brutally dumped.] With trembling hands, I clicked into the stream they mentioned, only to discover the camera had been focused on our cheap rental all along. Even the stream’s name had been changed to [Breakup Countdown: 3 Days]. It turned out Liam was never poor at all—he was the heir to Mitchell Group. These eight Christmases of my desperate sacrifices were just his carefully orchestrated reality show for the entire internet’s entertainment. But now, it was my turn to direct the ending. ***** My hands wouldn’t stop shaking as I held my phone, watching the viewer count for the three-day countdown stream skyrocket. Liam had his arm around Eleanor, speaking with casual indifference: “Time’s almost up—just a few days left. When the moment comes, I’m going to dump that stupid woman without mercy. Want to make a bet? Let’s bet on whether she’ll jump off a building when she learns the truth. After all, she has nothing left now except me.” Every word pierced my heart with surgical precision, the pain so intense it triggered spasms in my stomach. Since Liam wanted to put on a show, I’d play along for these final fourteen days. Only this time, I wouldn’t let things unfold according to his plan. I didn’t return to the factory. Instead, I clutched that diagnosis and walked along the riverbank before heading back to the rental. The moment I pushed open the door, I was hit by the stench of mold mixed with dampness. Several cockroaches scurried away from the light, leaving tiny tracks across the moldy bedsheets. Liam hadn’t come back, as expected. Before, I thought he was busy with business meetings and deals. Now I realized that every time he stepped into this dump, his eyes held not exhaustion, but barely concealed disgust. Familiar stabbing pain shot through my stomach, but it couldn’t compare to the tearing agony in my heart. Eight Christmases ago, when I withdrew all my family’s savings to help Liam, my parents Matthew and Audrey Thompson were so furious they cut ties with me. Later, I even sold the downtown riverside apartment Matthew had given me when I came of age, transferring every penny to Liam’s account. That day, he held me with tears in his eyes: “Caroline, once my startup succeeds, I’ll buy you ten houses better than this one.” But through the livestream replays, I learned he’d immediately taken Eleanor to luxury boutiques and blown through all my money. He’d even said, “It’s not much, but we’ll make do.” Thinking about it now, I let out a bitter laugh. Last night’s livestream clips had gone viral. Liam became the “public’s ideal boyfriend,” and Mitchell Group’s stock price had doubled. My phone’s vibration snapped me back to reality. I realized the livestream in my room had been activated without my knowledge, with over a hundred thousand viewers. The screen was flooded with comments. [How did this woman get so filthy? She must actually be begging on the streets.] [Pay attention everyone, because there’s about to be a good show. Though I have to say, she’s got a nice body.] I clutched my clothes tighter, trembling uncontrollably. Following the camera’s angle, I looked toward the piggy bank on the broken wooden desk. It was the birthday gift Liam had given me on our first Christmas together. Just a clay piggy bank, worthless really. But I’d treasured it as a token of our love, carefully carrying it with me through every move. I never imagined it contained a livestream surveillance camera, clearly recording eight Christmases of my pathetic existence. Just then, urgent, violent pounding erupted from outside the door. The voice shouted: “Bitch! If you don’t pay rent today, get the hell out!” My heart seemed to stop, but searching my entire body, I found only a few dollars. Last week’s wages had been transferred away by Liam the moment they hit my account—he said the company needed them. When I didn’t respond, even more violent kicking and cursing came from outside. “I saw you come back with my own eyes. How dare you hide from me?” Instinctively, I wrapped my arms around myself and cowered in the corner, shaking. The pounding suddenly stopped, replaced by the sound of keys turning in the lock. The door opened. I stepped back twice, then saw Liam appear before me. He’d changed from his custom suit into a worn T-shirt, waving several crumpled bills in his hand. Liam said, “Caroline, I picked up a side job today and made three hundred dollars. I just paid the rent. You can spend whatever’s left however you want.”

Liam looked incredibly excited, as if he was genuinely thrilled about these three hundred dollars. With trembling hands, I took the three crumpled bills, tears blurring my vision. Eight years had passed. Now, his acting skills had become even more refined—I had never seen through them. Liam seemed to notice something was off with me, his tone almost deliberately enthusiastic. He said, “I earn money just to spend it on you, don’t I? Once my company takes off, forget this little amount—I’d give you three million dollars without hesitation.” I looked up at him, suddenly remembering a comment that mentioned Liam had spent thirty million dollars on Eleanor’s personal exhibition tomorrow. I stared into Liam’s eyes, my voice barely audible: “Could you stay home and spend time with me tomorrow?” Liam froze for a moment, instinctively glancing around the room. Just then, moldy wallpaper fell from behind me, crumbling into black debris at my feet. I clearly saw him frown slightly, a hint of impatience flickering in his eyes. He said, “Baby, I have to meet with investors tomorrow. This is crucial—it’s a matter of life and death for the company.” For all these years, Liam had used this same excuse, and he’d gotten increasingly smooth at it. He would disappear for a week at the shortest, sometimes for months. Yet after eight years of these “critical periods,” his company still hadn’t made any progress. If it weren’t for those livestream recordings, I would never have known that his so-called business trips were just shopping sprees, vacations, and even studying abroad with Eleanor. Now Liam couldn’t even remember my birthday, just habitually brushing me off. This familiar attitude broke my heart. I forced a smile and said, “It’s okay. Focus on your work.” “Alright, I’m going to take a shower first.” Liam nodded as if he’d been granted a reprieve, hurrying into the bathroom as if staying here another moment disgusted him. My phone buzzed—Eleanor had started a livestream. As if possessed, I clicked in and saw her sitting surrounded by luxury shopping bags. She laughed softly, “Someone’s asking what’s special about today. Actually, it’s not really a special day. “Liam just loves giving me gifts. He says every day we’re together is an anniversary.” She suddenly leaned closer to the camera, blinking sweetly: “He even mysteriously told me this morning that he’s preparing a huge surprise for me.” The screen instantly filled with comments full of envy and well-wishes. But a few harsh comments slipped by. [Just came back from that beggar woman’s stream. I’m dying laughing. She actually thinks Mr. Mitchell would spend a whole day with her in that dump.] [I’m so embarrassed for her. Mr. Mitchell is helping Ms. Baker with her exhibition tomorrow—how could he possibly have time for her?] I squeezed my eyes shut, unable to bear reading those cruel comments. I had spent eight years of my youth with him, exhausted my family’s fortune, and this was what I got in return. While I was lost in thought, the bathroom door suddenly burst open. Liam emerged, toweling his hair, carrying the scent of an unfamiliar body wash. He said, “Caroline, didn’t you complain about me not spending time with you? Tonight, I’m taking you to meet the investors.” Before I could process my surprise, a wrinkled dress was thrown into my arms. There were obvious foundation stains on the neckline—clearly Eleanor had worn it. My heart ached, but he simply helped me put on the dress. Liam took me to a luxurious banquet hall, then skillfully pushed open the door to a VIP room. Instantly, I was hit by the overwhelming smell of smoke and alcohol. I instinctively frowned and started coughing, but Liam pushed me forward. He said, “Go say hello.” Several sleazy men sat on the sofa. Their gazes roamed shamelessly over my body, making me tremble uncontrollably. Liam shoved a wine glass into my hand, saying, “Go toast them. Whether the project succeeds depends on tonight.” One of the men approached and refilled my empty glass. He leered, “How much we invest in Mr. Mitchell depends on your performance.” Amid the raucous laughter, I was forced to drink glass after glass. After two bottles, my consciousness began to blur. When rough hands reached for my thigh, I finally broke down. I pushed through the crowd and stumbled into the bathroom. I vomited until I nearly passed out, my stomach feeling like it was being stabbed with blades, the pain making me break out in cold sweat. Humiliation and despair overwhelmed me, and I couldn’t stop crying. After what felt like forever, my phone rang. I answered, and a man’s voice came through: “Is this Caroline? This is the oncology center at Central Hospital. “We’re currently recruiting stomach cancer patients for paid human trials of a new treatment. Would you be interested in participating?”

I agreed almost without hesitation. At Central Hospital, Wyatt Hughes showed me around the treatment facility and patiently explained the feasibility of the treatment plan. He said, “This treatment will take about a year. In return, after the experiment ends, we’ll pay you two million dollars in compensation.” I nodded quietly, my voice hoarse as I said, “I have only one request. Before the project begins, I need you to help me fake my death from stomach cancer.” Wyatt frowned slightly but eventually nodded. When I left the hospital, dawn was breaking. I looked around in confusion, suddenly unsure where to go. Just then, my phone, clutched tightly in my hand, began to vibrate. I answered the call, and Ellie Morris’s cautious voice came through: “Caroline, are you free today to help me with something?” These past few years, Ellie had found me many odd jobs, barely allowing me to make ends meet. “Sure, I’ll be right over.” I swallowed the words of refusal. I wiped the tears from my face and headed to the agreed location. The moment I stepped into the art gallery, an uneasy feeling washed over me. Walking into the exhibition hall, I saw Eleanor’s life-size standee. So this was where her solo exhibition was being held. She was like a ghost I couldn’t shake off. I stopped in my tracks, instinctively turning to flee. But then I saw Liam at a nearby display, struggling to move a massive painting. Sweat trickled down his jaw, soaking the custom suit I had bought him on installments over a year. Yet he didn’t seem tired at all, his face showing barely concealed joy. This was completely different from his attitude when I’d asked him to help hang laundry. Eleanor suddenly looked up and met my gaze, flashing a provocative smile. “Liam, don’t move,” she said, standing on her tiptoes to tenderly wipe the sweat from his forehead with her handkerchief, her movements gentle and lingering. Liam obediently bent down, letting her fingertips trace suggestively across his brow and lips. Watching this scene, a dull pain shot through my chest. Eleanor deliberately raised her voice while staring straight at me. She said, “Liam, if that beggar woman saw us like this, would she make a scene with you right here?” Liam hadn’t noticed my presence and only indulgently pinched Eleanor’s nose: “That would be perfect—saves me from planning how to break up with her.” My heartbeat and breathing suddenly became very light, as if something was slowly being stripped away from my body. The exhibition opening began. The crowd suddenly surged forward, pushing me back step by step. A woman said, “Look, everyone. That’s Mr. Mitchell and Ms. Baker. They’re so sweet together.” A man excitedly said, “Mr. Mitchell is going to livestream his breakup with that beggar woman tomorrow, right?” Another man said dismissively, “Yes. Over a million people have already signed up to watch. I really want to see that beggar woman who won’t leave Mr. Mitchell alone make a fool of herself.” The people around me were chatting excitedly. Every word pierced straight through my chest. I covered my face, afraid they’d recognize me. But as I turned to leave, someone deliberately tripped me, and I crashed onto the marble floor. At the same time, a bucket of dirty mop water beside me was knocked over in the chaos, and the filthy water splashed across my face. The dirty water ran down my hair into my collar, gradually soaking my entire body. When I tremblingly opened my eyes, everyone around me had stepped back, but they were all holding up their phones, frantically filming me. A woman said in shock, “Oh my God! How dare she show up here?” Another woman said, “She deserves it! She still dares to appear looking like that!” Their undisguised mockery drew a burst of laughter. I tried to struggle to my feet, but someone in the crowd shoved me again, and I fell heavily back to the ground. My palms burned with pain, and the marble floor beneath my hands was now stained with blood. A man shouted, “Look over there, everyone!” A piercing cheer suddenly erupted from the front, instantly drawing everyone’s attention. Through my vision blurred by dirty water, I saw Eleanor smiling radiantly like a flower, actively kissing Liam’s lips under the soft silver spotlight. Liam’s hands gripped her waist tightly. The two of them kissed passionately under the spotlight, like the perfect ending of a fairy tale. And I was covered in filth, like a discarded rag. Only after witnessing all this did I finally realize that we were never from the same world. My nails dug deep into my palms, but my mind was unusually clear. This absurd reality show had just one more day before it would finally end.

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On Father’s Day, I received the greatest gift—my one-year-old son called me “Daddy” for the first time. But in the very next second, my son suddenly convulsed all over, foaming at the mouth. Before we could even reach the hospital, he was dead. My wife Aurora Phillips broke down in tears, and I was heartbroken too. However, even the hospital couldn’t determine what illness had killed my son. Three years later, Aurora finally emerged from the shadow of grief, and we had our second child. But this child also died instantly after calling me “Daddy” for the first time. Worried that Aurora would be hurt again, I suggested we adopt a child. Yet even the adopted child died unexpectedly after calling me “Daddy” for the first time. Unable to bear the trauma any longer, Aurora asked for a divorce. Everyone said I wasn’t meant to be a father. But I refused to believe it, so I married Charlotte Ward and had a daughter, Emily Hall. I warned Charlotte never to let Emily call me “Daddy.” For years, our family had followed this rule. Until Emily turned four this year, she came home from kindergarten saying she wanted to celebrate Father’s Day for me. She pulled out a greeting card and said to me: “Daddy…” The moment I heard that word, my body froze completely. The next instant, I shot up from my seat, snatched the card from her hands, and looked around warily. Even though there was no movement around us, my violently pounding heart couldn’t calm down. I gripped Emily’s arms tightly with both hands. Emily was frightened by my reaction and cried out: “It hurts! Daddy, you’re hurting me.” “Shut up!” Overwhelming fear consumed me as I roared at Emily. Charlotte, hearing the commotion from the bedroom, rushed out to shield Emily in her arms, then yelled at me: “Jonathan Hall, have you lost your mind? Why are you doing this?” I trembled all over, cold sweat pouring out continuously. “Did you hear what she called me?” Before Charlotte could answer, Emily cried and questioned me: “Why can’t I call you that? Am I not your real daughter? My classmates all say I’m not your child, that’s why you won’t let me call you Daddy.” I wanted to explain, but I opened my mouth without knowing how to begin. I had once had three children, but they all died instantly after calling me “Daddy” for the first time. Their reactions before death were all different—the first child foamed at the mouth and convulsed all over; the second child suddenly fainted and collapsed to the ground. Without exception, they all died on the spot. Even after autopsy, doctors couldn’t determine what sudden illness had killed them. This ordeal once drove Aurora and me to the brink of collapse. We suspected genetic issues, since both children died around one year old. To prevent this from happening again, we adopted a child. When I first met her, that eight-year-old girl smiled and called me “Daddy.” But the next second, her smile froze on her face. As if suffering tremendous pain, her expression became twisted and grotesque. She spat out a mouthful of blood, then fell straight backward with her eyes wide open. The moment she collapsed, she had already stopped breathing. The scene immediately erupted into chaos. The orphanage director said in disbelief: “Impossible. This little girl has always been perfectly healthy, there couldn’t be any problems. Why would she suddenly die?” Instantly, everyone’s eyes turned to me. In the noisy crowd, someone quickly recognized me. He shouted: “Isn’t this the man whose two children died? This child’s death must be related to him. Otherwise, why would all these children die mysteriously after calling him ‘Daddy’ just once?” Countless gazes pierced me like needles as people demanded to know what I had done to the children. I froze completely in place, not even daring to look at the child on the ground. I shook my head frantically, saying I hadn’t done anything, but the people around me simply wouldn’t believe it. Then the police arrived. After months of investigation, they determined that the little girl had died from a sudden severe illness. But what exactly that illness was, the hospital never provided an answer. Although the police cleared my name, my marriage to Aurora had reached its end. Everyone said she was a poor woman, then pointed at my nose and cursed, saying I must have done something wrong, that I didn’t deserve to be a father, which is why each of my children died unexpectedly. Some people even said online that I’d never be able to have children in this lifetime. I had an emotional breakdown and wanted to leave this world. But my loving parents, Jaxon Hall and Nora Hall, desperately stopped me from seeking death and found me a therapist. Through treatment, I regained hope for life and remarried to have children again. After marriage, Charlotte and I gradually settled into a normal life and had our adorable Emily. Ever since Emily was born, I absolutely refused to let her call me “Daddy.” She lived safely to age four, and I had almost forgotten the feeling of a child suddenly dying in front of me. But Emily’s single “Daddy” completely awakened my nightmare. Before I could recover from my terror, Charlotte’s furious gaze fell upon me. She roared: “I think you really do have mental problems, insisting on tormenting Emily like this! Seeing her get called a bastard every day, called a child from a broken home, does that make you happy? She called you ‘Daddy,’ didn’t she? She’s fine, isn’t she?” Hearing Charlotte’s words, I realized that after Emily called me “Daddy,” nothing bad had happened. I rushed over to Emily excitedly, looking her up and down thoroughly. After confirming Emily was perfectly fine, I could hardly believe it. Had the curse on me finally lifted? After the initial joy, I didn’t dare relax and insisted that Emily stay within my sight today. But Emily, who had just been yelled at by me, quickly hid behind Charlotte. “Mommy, I don’t want to be with Daddy.” Charlotte frowned and glanced at me. “Don’t get so worked up.” Then, ignoring my attempts to stop her, she turned and took Emily to the bedroom to sleep. But the moment the bedroom door closed, Charlotte’s scream came from inside. I rushed into the bedroom like a madman, then saw Charlotte holding Emily’s lifeless body. My child was dead again.

I stood there in numb shock, watching Charlotte sob as she held Emily, blood streaming from her nose and mouth. When the paramedics arrived, they informed us that Emily showed no signs of life. “That’s impossible. My child has always been healthy. How could she just suddenly die?” Charlotte screamed hysterically. The doctor looked at me with a complicated expression. Charlotte became even more furious. “I don’t believe she died just from calling out ‘Daddy’ once. I demand an autopsy. Even if it was a sudden illness, I need to know exactly what kind of disease it was.” After the lights in the autopsy room went out, the doctor sighed and said, “We couldn’t determine what sudden illness caused the child’s death.” Looking at Emily’s small body covered in incisions, Charlotte’s eyes were bloodshot as she confronted me: “Why? Why did Emily suddenly die so mysteriously after calling out ‘Daddy’ just once? What did you do to my child?” Facing her accusations, I could only shake my head: “I really don’t know why she died. She’s my child too. I want her alive more than anyone else.” I collapsed to the floor in despair. The people around me showed no sympathy, whispering among themselves. One man said: “When his first two children died, I felt sorry for him. Now I see he deserves it. He knows he can’t have children, yet he keeps having them. His ex-wife Aurora remarried and now has a healthy son and daughter. The problem must be with him.” A woman said: “I’m starting to suspect he’s directly involved in these children’s deaths. Otherwise, why would he keep having children when he knows they might die?” Another woman added: “Even if he didn’t kill them, maybe his enemies deliberately killed his children to get revenge on him.” Another man sighed: “Actually, his wives and children are the ones who suffer most.” When Jaxon and Nora rushed over, they found me sitting on the ground, weakly defending myself. Gray-haired Nora protectively stepped in front of me and addressed the crowd: “Everyone, the police have already investigated. The child truly died from a sudden illness. We failed to take proper care of the child. This has nothing to do with Jonathan.” Nora then quietly begged everyone to leave me alone. The onlookers sneered: “Nothing to do with him? If one child died from sudden illness, that wouldn’t be strange. But why do all his children die this way? And they all died right after calling out ‘Daddy’ once. Even the doctors can’t identify what disease this is. How can so many coincidences keep happening to Jonathan?” Charlotte suddenly looked at me with a cold laugh: “Jonathan, do you really not know why Emily died?” Before I could respond, Nora said to Charlotte: “Charlotte, we’ve wronged you, but this truly has nothing to do with Jonathan. I know you’re heartbroken over the child’s death, but Jonathan is hurting too. Let’s go home and talk this through, okay?” Charlotte violently shook off Nora’s arm: “How long are you going to keep protecting Jonathan? When his three children died mysteriously before, you begged people on camera not to discuss it too much, afraid it would affect Jonathan. This monster could actually bear to watch you two plead with others, and you still want to protect him.” Charlotte sneered as she looked at me: “Jonathan, would you rather watch your parents, at their age, humble themselves and beg everyone like this than tell the truth?”

When Charlotte spoke, everyone’s eyes immediately focused on me. A man said, “The truth? Looks like there’s definitely more to this story. After all, how could all his children die in such bizarre ways?” A woman asked, “So what is the truth?” Everyone looked at Charlotte, but her questioning gaze was fixed firmly on me. I gave a bitter smile. “You want me to tell the truth? Don’t you think I want to find out the truth about my children’s deaths? They were my children—I loved them more than anyone. But I really don’t know why they suddenly died every time they called me ‘Daddy.’” Charlotte slapped me hard across the face. “I can’t believe you’re still lying.” She pointed at Emily’s body. “This isn’t our child at all. I’ve already seen Emily—she’s actually not dead at all, is she? Jonathan, where did you hide Emily? Give me back my child!” Everyone around us was stunned by Charlotte’s words. After all, Emily’s body was right there. They all thought Charlotte was hallucinating from grief. But the next second, they suddenly understood why Charlotte would say such a thing—because Charlotte pulled out surveillance footage. In the surveillance video, Emily had gone to kindergarten normally today and was still there now. Instantly, everyone’s eyes turned to the body covered with a white sheet. If the girl in the surveillance footage was Emily, then who was this corpse? Before I could figure it out, Charlotte continued, “Jonathan, I don’t understand why you’re doing this, but give me back my child. Which kindergarten is she at? When did you switch her out? Give her back to me!” I said, “I didn’t—” I was about to explain when Nora suddenly shouted, interrupting me. Then she turned to Charlotte and said, “Charlotte, I’m so sorry. I can’t bear the guilt anymore. I have to tell you the truth. You’re wrong—that girl in the surveillance footage really isn’t Emily. This dead girl is the real one. Because I know how she died.” “What?” Charlotte’s eyes widened instantly, her face pale as she approached Nora. Nora pointed at me. “It was him. Jonathan killed his children with his own hands. He’s had XYY syndrome since childhood. When he was little, he killed countless cats and dogs he raised by throwing them to their deaths. But I never thought he’d be cruel enough to murder his own children. His father and I tried to stop him, but he always said it would be the last time. We’re guilty too! Jonathan is our only child, so we kept covering for him. But Charlotte, I can’t bear to watch you go crazy looking for your child. Emily is dead, and she was indeed killed by Jonathan’s own hands.” Everyone around us was stunned, and it took a long time before anyone reacted. A man said in shock, “Did I hear that right? Jonathan killed his own children with his bare hands? Why would he do such a thing?” Charlotte stood frozen, staring at me stiffly. All I could do was weakly defend myself. “No, I didn’t.” Charlotte demanded harshly, “Everyone knows your parents love you dearly. How could they possibly frame you? Jonathan, why did you kill my children?” I looked desperately at Jaxon and Nora, but they looked pained as they urged me, “Jonathan, you’ve already done enough wrong. If we keep covering for you, we won’t be able to live with ourselves.” I stared at them in disbelief. Why? Why would Jaxon and Nora, who had always loved me, lie to frame me? I tried to explain, but everyone around believed that Jaxon and Nora, who loved me so much, couldn’t possibly be framing me. A bystander who couldn’t stand it anymore punched me in the face, cursing, “You animal! You actually killed your own children! How dare you stand here pretending to be innocent?” A woman shouted, “Even if the law sentences you to death, we wouldn’t think it’s excessive. Someone like you should be tortured to death!” A man chimed in, “Exactly! I’m so furious. Today, I’ll beat you to death for your children!” The crowd, believing Jaxon and Nora’s words, surrounded me and beat me mercilessly. I knew nothing I said would matter, so I just let countless fists rain down on me. Just when I was in despair, I glanced again at the child on Charlotte’s phone screen and suddenly froze. I finally understood why every child died after calling me “Daddy.”

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Reborn back to Christmas 1977, I, Julia Welch, locked eyes with my best friend Lucy Harris. We embraced tightly, crying as we declared we were calling off our engagements. Everyone thought we’d lost our minds, but only the two of us knew the truth—in our previous lives, on this very day, I had married high school teacher Harrison Stewart, and Lucy had become the wife of battalion commander Justin Stewart. That Christmas, Harrison secretly stole my college acceptance letter for his beloved Natalia Lawson, letting her take my place at university. I was mocked for supposedly failing to get into college, while Harrison turned a blind eye. After our marriage, every time he touched me, he would write Natalia a love letter as penance: “Natalia, even if I can’t be with you in this lifetime, you will forever be my only spiritual love.” My own children even saw me as an uneducated country woman, repeatedly urging me to divorce voluntarily so Harrison and Natalia could be together. Lucy, the factory director’s daughter, was swindled out of all her savings by Justin under the pretense of buying a house. Only when she fell seriously ill and tried to sell the property did she discover that the deed Justin had given her was fake—he had already bought Natalia a house in New York with cash. The price of one of Natalia’s dresses equaled Lucy’s entire monthly salary. When Lucy begged Justin to return her money, she was met with scolding and her children’s indifference. Justin said, “All you care about is money, while Natalia never covets wealth. No wonder you’re getting what you deserve.” Her child said, “Exactly. Only someone as kind and noble as Miss Lawson deserves to be my mother.” We both toiled our entire lives only to end up with nothing, dying in anger and frustration. Now that we’ve been given a second chance, I’m going to college, and she’s going to become wealthy. Without our help, they still think they can live the good life? Dream on! ***** The once-lively courtyard suddenly turned awkward and tense as Lucy and I embraced, crying and announcing our broken engagements on the spot. Guests whispered among themselves, their words filled with confusion and disapproval. Everyone knew the Stewart twins had bright futures ahead of them. If not for their prior engagements, many girls would have wanted to marry them. But as I held Lucy close, all I felt was relief and gratitude at breaking free from our bonds. In everyone else’s eyes, the Stewart family was an excellent choice. But to us, they were clearly bottomless pits. In this lifetime, anyone else could marry them—it certainly wouldn’t be us. Harrison and Justin never expected us to break off our engagements publicly. Their faces turned ashen with rage. Harrison, wearing a white shirt, furrowed his brow on his delicate, scholarly face. “Julia, marriage is a lifelong commitment. With all these people watching, don’t make a scene. The banquet is about to start, and now you’re talking about calling off the engagement. You’re just upset that I helped Natalia with a few math problems, aren’t you? Do you really need to be so petty?” I let out a cold laugh. He shouldn’t have brought that up—I’d almost forgotten about it. Harrison had once volunteered to tutor me. But every time he called me over, he would apologetically say, “Let me go check on Natalia,” and then disappear. Back then, he deceived me by claiming Natalia’s grades were too poor and she needed help more than I did. It wasn’t until decades later at a drinking party that I learned the truth from a drunk Harrison. Natalia had begged him not to let me score better than her, so he came up with this scheme to hold me back. When I still managed to get into college, he hatched the plan to use my acceptance letter for Natalia’s substitution. What had I done wrong to deserve such scheming? Just because I admired Harrison? Just because I studied better than Natalia? I could have had a bright future, but they destroyed it all. The thought deepened the hatred in my heart. “That’s right, I am petty, and you’re just realizing this today? We’re both taking the exam, and I’m your fiancée, yet every time you ask me to come study, you end up getting called away by Natalia. Do you have any idea how much precious time you’ve wasted? Stop using excuses like ‘she needs more help’ to brush me off. Her future matters, but mine doesn’t?” In my past life, I always considered Harrison’s feelings, afraid of upsetting him, so I never spoke these words. That’s exactly why everyone mocked me when my admission was stolen. This time, I won’t foolishly cover for Harrison anymore. My accusations rang out clearly, and the gossiping neighbors instantly fell silent, looking at Harrison with confusion. Just as I said, I was his long-promised fiancée, and with exam prep time so tight and precious, how could he do this? Harrison couldn’t explain himself, his face flushed red as he stammered an apology: “I didn’t think it through, Julia, I’m sorry. But marriage isn’t trivial, and the exam results aren’t even out yet. You can’t call off the engagement over this, can you?” I was about to say I wouldn’t marry him when suddenly a strong force from behind pushed me toward Harrison. I barely managed to steady myself without falling into his arms. Turning around, I saw my parents standing there, their faces full of displeasure. My father said, “Julia, enough is enough. Don’t make people think we’ve spoiled you rotten.” My mother added, “Exactly, think long-term. If you miss out on someone as outstanding as Harrison, you’ll regret it.” Hearing my own parents say such things, my heart still clenched painfully. In my past life, when I still had a shred of self-respect, I had actually considered divorce. But when I shared this thought with my parents, they tore into me, saying I was ungrateful, that every woman goes through this, and as long as I was a good wife and mother, my husband and children would eventually come around. After that, I never mentioned divorce again. But why couldn’t I have a better life? Did I really have to depend on Harrison? I said, “I don’t want to marry him. If you like him so much, then you go marry him!” After saying this, I turned to leave. But my parents exchanged glances and each grabbed one of my arms tightly. My father said, “I think we’ve spoiled you too much. So many guests have already arrived. Today, whether you want to or not, this wedding is happening.” My mother said to Harrison’s parents, “Sorry about this, she’s going through a rebellious phase. Just lock her in the room and that’ll do it.” I struggled desperately, crying and pleading, but my parents remained completely unmoved. In their eyes, I simply didn’t know what was good for me. Harrison Christmas had become a high school teacher at such a young age, while I was just a recent graduate whose college admission was still uncertain. This marriage was me reaching above my station. They locked me in a dark room. Lucy, who also refused to marry Justin, suffered the same fate. Though her family was well-off with her father being a factory manager, she had a younger brother. Apart from a wedding gift they’d already prepared for her, everything else in the family would go to her brother. Staring at the locked door, Lucy and I exchanged glances, both our eyes filled with despair. I crouched miserably in the corner, and Lucy quietly crouched down beside me. In this cramped, dark space, we huddled together, as if returning to our previous life. Only we truly understood each other’s pain. She sighed softly, “People always say that unloved girls have no home once they marry. But it seems like we already have no home even before getting married.” I sighed too, “We learned this lesson in our last life. We can’t rely on anyone but ourselves.” The banquet outside continued, with no one caring about how we two brides felt. Everyone was congratulating Harrison and Justin, blessing my parents, and celebrating with Lucy’s parents. But what exactly was there to celebrate? Since we’d been given a second chance at life, we absolutely wouldn’t live as pathetically as we had in our previous life. Thinking of all the misery from our past life, I shook my head, “No, wait. We do have an advantage this time.” Lucy rolled her eyes, “We’re locked up, can’t fight them, and can’t escape. What advantage do we have?” I patted her shoulder and whispered in her ear, “In our last life, we knew nothing. But this time, we already know what Harrison and Justin really want. And I remember clearly that after the wedding banquet, we never actually got our marriage certificates. How about we play along with their game?” The Stewart family couldn’t keep us locked up forever. When the banquet ended, the door finally opened. Harrison stood in the doorway, his face flushed with alcohol, his usually handsome features tinged with red. He asked, “Have you had enough of this tantrum? If you’re done, then be a good wife to me, and we’ll live peacefully together.” He raised his hand to touch my head, and I instinctively wanted to dodge. But I forced myself to stay still, putting on a timid, pitiful expression, “Will you really treat me well from now on?” Harrison smiled and said, “Of course. You’re my wife. If I don’t treat you well, who else would I treat well?”

I tugged at the corner of my mouth. I learned one truth in my past life—men’s words can’t be trusted. Before getting his acceptance letter, Harrison had put on quite the act of loving me. I pretended to believe his words, following him out with a mix of shyness and tenderness, playing the obedient role. Lucy watched my expression and couldn’t help but want to laugh, her shoulders trembling slightly. She only restrained herself when Harrison turned back to ask her to get something from Justin’s room. Over the next period, Lucy and I found an excuse, claiming we had our periods, to avoid those things that shouldn’t have happened. Perhaps because they still wanted to use us, or maybe out of some guilt, Harrison and Justin actually acted like decent husbands. The day Natalia came, the four of us were gathered together tending to the vegetable garden. Harrison helped brush away my scattered hair, while Justin laughingly fanned Lucy, who was sweating from the heat. Seeing this scene, Natalia’s smile clearly faltered. Fortunately, Harrison and Justin noticed in time, immediately standing up and creating distance, which eased her expression. She said, “Julia, Lucy, sorry to intrude. I need to discuss something with Harrison and Justin.” I couldn’t help but want to laugh. Her tone was so intimate—her intentions were way too obvious. How had I not noticed her little schemes in my past life? Lucy clearly showed similar confusion. But neither of us called her out, just watching as Harrison and Justin eagerly followed her into the house. Before leaving, Natalia made sure to give us an apologetic smile: “I’ll just borrow them for a little while—you don’t mind, do you?” She was clearly expecting us to show disappointment or resentment. But we just smiled cheerfully at her. What was there to mind? We’d gotten used to this kind of thing in our past lives. I said, “Don’t mind at all—feel free to use them however you want.” Natalia was momentarily speechless, like throwing a punch into cotton with nowhere to land. When she turned back and saw that Harrison and Justin’s expressions looked oddly displeased, her heart skipped a beat, and she quickly urged them inside. Lucy and I stood in the courtyard, both unconsciously rubbing the goosebumps that had risen on our arms. No choice—we still had to endure for a while longer. Natalia coming to us actually suited our purposes perfectly. We didn’t need to think hard to know that the timing was about right—she was here about the acceptance letter and money. After chatting for a few minutes, she hurriedly said goodbye and left. Of course, she carried with her the food Harrison had insisted she take, along with the hair ribbon Justin had just picked out for Lucy. The three of them stood at the door in a reluctant farewell, then turned to find Lucy and me watching with knowing smiles. Harrison explained somewhat frantically, “It’s not what you think. My mom adopted Natalia as her goddaughter—Justin and I are just looking out for our sister.” Both men felt uneasy, afraid we might throw a tantrum. After all, they both knew Natalia had taken food I liked to eat, and Lucy had wanted that hair ribbon for a long time. But we still wore smiles. I said calmly, “Since she’s your goddaughter, of course you should take good care of her. It’s fine.” Seeing their relief, Lucy and I quietly exchanged a glance. We knew our opportunity had come. In my previous life, my acceptance letter arrived at this exact time. And it was also at this time that Justin asked for money to buy a house. During this period, Lucy and I had been very compliant with them, making it seem like we had returned to our former state of being unable to live without them. When I said I was going grocery shopping, they didn’t suspect anything. Before I left, Harrison said to me gently, “Julia, thank you for all your hard work. Go buy some spinach—I remember you love spinach the most.” I love spinach? That was from my previous life. Ever since Natalia stopped liking spinach, our family hadn’t touched the stuff for thirty or forty years. No matter how much I once loved it, I had long since gotten used to not eating it. I calmly agreed, but as soon as I stepped out the door, I took a different route. Instead of going to the market, I headed straight for the school. Acceptance letters were always sent to the school in batches. Harrison would definitely intercept my mail. Using the excuse of picking something up for him, I successfully entered his office. Harrison’s office was neat and clean. Only one cup stood out as particularly exquisite, completely out of place among the other furnishings. I remembered this cup vividly. In my previous life, Harrison had always treasured it like a precious gem. Even after retirement, he would only drink from this cup at home. Later, when I accidentally broke it while mopping, he flew into a rage and slapped me across the face. I felt so wronged and wanted to explain, but even my son frowned and told me how precious that cup was. Because it came from Natalia. I looked away expressionlessly and pulled open Harrison’s drawer. My fingers brushed past several love letters he had written to Natalia, and I accurately pulled out my acceptance letter that was pressed at the very bottom. I opened the envelope directly, stuffed the contents into my jacket, then found a piece of paper, wrote a few words, and resealed the envelope. After finishing all this, my heart was beating a bit faster, so I quickly left the office. At the school gate, I sat under a tree, waiting anxiously for a long time until I finally saw that familiar figure. I said, “Lucy, you scared me to death. I thought you wouldn’t be able to get out.” Lucy had practically jogged over, out of breath. Hearing this, she rolled her eyes. “It’s all that bastard Justin’s fault!” she said through gritted teeth. “I was afraid he’d get suspicious. When he said he wanted money to buy a house, I refused no matter what, and he spent ages trying to convince me. “He’s usually so dull, but when it comes to Natalia’s affairs, he’s particularly attentive. “After getting the money, he even said he’d buy me a silver bracelet. Julia, do you know? In my previous life, right up until I died, he never kept that promise.” That silver bracelet had simply been taken by Natalia after she took a liking to it. I sighed softly and gently patted her shoulder. “Don’t think about it anymore—it’s all in the past. Did you get the money?” Lucy said, “Of course I did. This time, no one’s going to touch my money!” As she spoke, she linked her arm through mine. The light in her eyes was no longer dim and lifeless; instead, it seemed to hold tiny points of starlight. She said, “Julia, let’s go—to a broader world!”

Harrison and Justin returned home, standing at the door for a long time, hesitating to enter. The door that usually opened with just a gentle push now felt as heavy as a thousand pounds. Justin sighed softly: “Did we go too far?” Although they had no romantic feelings for Julia and Lucy, they were married after all and would spend their lives together. A trace of guilt appeared on Harrison’s face, but when he thought of Natalia’s excited and delighted expression when they gave her those things, he felt it was all worth it. After all, when they were children, Natalia had saved both his and Justin’s lives without asking for anything in return. She was so kind and wonderful, she deserved the best of everything in the world. He said: “Don’t overthink it. At worst, we’ll make it up to them more in the future. Besides, Julia and Lucy love us so much, they’ll understand us.” He looked down at the fish in his hand, thinking that Julia had just gone grocery shopping, so he could make a nutritious dish. She was too thin and needed to nourish her body properly. Harrison knew in his heart that he wasn’t completely indifferent to Julia. Years ago when their engagement was arranged, he already knew Julia would become his wife. Standing beside him was Justin, looking dazed, his hands empty – the bracelet he had originally bought for Lucy had been given to someone else, no wonder he felt so guilty. Harrison suddenly felt an inexplicable sense of superiority and pushed open the door with a relaxed mood. However, the house seemed unusually empty for some reason. Looking carefully, he realized that neither Julia nor Lucy was anywhere to be seen. Harrison’s heart tightened inexplicably. Just then he saw his mother Freya Stewart coming home and hurried forward to ask: “Mom, did you see Julia?” Freya was startled: “Didn’t she go grocery shopping? She’s not back yet? Then who’s going to cook?” Justin also showed a worried expression: “What about Lucy? She’s not here either?” Freya said: “Oh, she seemed to say she was going back to her family’s house after you two left. What’s wrong?” Hearing this, Harrison and Justin’s faces instantly turned pale. The uneasy premonition in their hearts seemed to be coming true. Without bothering to answer Freya’s question, they turned and ran outside, preparing to look for Julia and Lucy. But just as they took a few steps, they ran straight into Natalia, who had come rushing over in anger. Her small face was flushed red, and in her hands she clutched the acceptance letter and money that Harrison and Justin had just given her. Both men’s hearts immediately sank. Just as they were about to ask what had happened, Natalia couldn’t wait to speak: “Harrison, Justin, Julia and Lucy are playing us! Look what these are!” Harrison stared blankly at the items in her hands. Inside the acceptance letter envelope was only a piece of paper. On it was written: [Stop fantasizing about things that don’t belong to you. As for those two pieces of trash, you can have them back.] The handwriting was wild and sloppy – Harrison recognized Julia’s writing at a glance. Justin also stared at the money. He clearly remembered that Lucy had five hundred dollars, which was all the inheritance her father had left her. But now, that money had been replaced with a single penny. Harrison and Justin looked at each other, seeing terror and unease in each other’s eyes. It was over, everything was over. They actually knew everything!

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My husband Charlie Watson forced me, Ember Schmidt, eight months pregnant, to accompany his mistress Luna Lynch on a bungee jumping trip. I silently agreed. In my previous life, Luna was in a bad mood. To cheer her up, Charlie offered to help fulfill one of her wishes. Luna said her greatest wish was to have someone bungee jump with her. Despite being afraid of heights, Charlie immediately agreed and insisted I come along. When I refused on the spot, citing my pregnancy, Luna became dejected and eventually went to a bar to drown her sorrows. At that bar, she was drugged and lost her innocence. Afterward, devastated by the trauma, she left a suicide note and chose to end her life. [If I hadn’t gone to the bar that day, would everything have been different?] Upon reading the note, Charlie grabbed my throat and roared: “Why didn’t you agree to go bungee jumping with Luna? Would you have died if you’d said yes?” He strangled me to death with his own hands, and my unborn child died with me. When I opened my eyes again, I had returned to the day Charlie demanded I accompany Luna bungee jumping. ***** At this moment, we stood on the outdoor bungee platform. I huddled in the farthest corner, gripping the railings tightly, my eight-month pregnant belly feeling especially heavy in the harsh weather, making it hard to breathe. The bungee safety equipment on my body looked unreliable, making my face grow even paler. Meanwhile, Charlie standing opposite me showed no concern for my condition. His tender gaze was entirely focused on Luna, who had insisted on bungee jumping today. Luna clung to Charlie coquettishly: “You’re so good to me. Every time I’m upset, you’re the one who helps me vent my emotions. You’re the closest person I have in this world.” Charlie gently embraced her: “Don’t worry, Luna. No matter what happens, I’ll always be by your side, so you don’t need to fear anything.” The two gazed into each other’s eyes with deep affection, as if only they existed in this world. Just then, a gust of wind struck, causing the bungee platform to shake violently. I involuntarily staggered, drawing gasps from the surrounding crowd. “My God! Coming to bungee jump with such a big belly—does she have a death wish?” “Pregnant women should stay home. Coming out in this weather—isn’t she afraid of miscarrying?” “Some women are just irresponsible, not caring about the child in their belly. When something goes wrong, it’ll be too late to cry!” Hearing these comments, Charlie looked at me with even more disgust: “You heard them, right? Pregnant women like you are trouble wherever you go. I really regret bringing you out here.” Luna quickly interjected: “Charlie, don’t be angry. After all, Ember did drug you just to get pregnant with your child. Don’t blame her too much.” Then she lowered her head, feigning distress: “It’s all my fault. If I hadn’t developed depression, I wouldn’t have wanted to relieve stress through bungee jumping. Maybe we should just forget about today—Ember doesn’t seem too willing anyway.” “No way!” Charlie refused outright, staring at Luna with determination. “I promised to help fulfill your wish. Today, you’re definitely going to bungee jump successfully.” Then he turned to me, his gaze ice-cold: “Ember, if you hadn’t announced your pregnancy when Luna was heartbroken, how would she have gotten depression? She’s so unhappy now, and it’s all because of you. If you have any conscience left, hurry up and jump with her to fulfill her wish.” Only then did the surrounding people understand I was being forced, and their looks toward Charlie became complicated. The bungee platform staff also frowned, unable to help but intervene: “Sir, pregnant women aren’t suitable for bungee jumping, especially with such a large belly. What if she miscarries? Our scenic area can’t take responsibility for that.” “Whether she lives or dies, it’s her choice and has nothing to do with anyone else,” Charlie coldly interrupted the staff member. He shoved a bungee liability waiver into my hands, his tone harsh: “Sign it and jump!” Those few short words made me see clearly the undisguised disgust and indifference in his eyes. He looked at me as if I were trash that urgently needed disposing of. I calmly took the agreement and signed my name expressionlessly. Having experienced the tragic death in my previous life, I had long understood how ruthless this man I once loved deeply could be. He didn’t love me, nor did he love the child in my womb. Since that was the case, I no longer needed to cling to him. I would grant his wish and completely disappear from his world. I handed the signed agreement to the staff member and, under Luna’s gaze that barely concealed her malice, walked step by step toward the edge of the bungee platform. Just before leaping down, I turned back to look at Charlie and said: “Charlie, this child—I’m giving it back to you.”

A flicker of panic crossed Charlie’s eyes when he heard those words. He stepped forward, about to ask me something, when Luna suddenly rushed over and grabbed my arm. “Ember, I’m jumping!” Since Luna had chosen tandem bungee jumping, she and I were tied to the same rope. The moment she leaped, I was yanked down like a stone. The violent descent made me weightless instantly, and my already aching abdomen was hit with a wave of excruciating pain. Despite being mentally prepared, I couldn’t help but cry out: “Ah! It hurts!” But the next second, Luna’s excited voice drowned out my screams: “Wow, this is so thrilling! So this is what bungee jumping feels like! My wish has finally come true—I’m so happy!” She closed her eyes and spread her arms in bliss, like a bird soaring free. Meanwhile, my abdomen grew more and more uncomfortable under the impact of the rapid descent, until suddenly a tearing pain struck. I looked down at my pants and sure enough, found blood seeping through. “Stop! I’m in pain!” I couldn’t help but shout. But to Luna, who was immersed in excitement, my words were nothing but a buzzkill. She glared at me impatiently: “Ember, your acting is way too fake. Charlie can’t even hear what you’re screaming about from that distance. What are you pretending for?” Her body bounced up and down with the bungee cord as she shouted triumphantly in my ear, while I was tortured by the excruciating pain, barely able to breathe, let alone argue back. The baby in my belly seemed to sense the danger too, kicking frantically as if trying to burst through my skin. I hung upside down in mid-air, my legs tightly bound by the rope, the blood rushing to my head making both me and the child inside suffocate. I waved my hands desperately: “Pull me up! I… I can’t take it anymore!” The staff on the bungee platform seemed to notice something was wrong and picked up a megaphone to shout: “What’s happening? Is the customer feeling unwell?” I was already drenched in sweat and was about to use my last bit of strength to respond when I heard Luna beside me yell: “Higher! One more round—it’s not thrilling enough yet!” The staff member was stunned and asked again in disbelief: “Are you sure you want another round? That pregnant woman looks like she’s really suffering.” I managed to say weakly: “I can’t…” Before I could finish, Charlie coldly told the staff: “I’m the one paying. When I tell you to do another round, just do it. What’s with all the chatter? If Luna doesn’t have fun, I’ll file a complaint against you!” Seeing this, the staff didn’t dare say more and immediately operated the equipment for another round. Luna screamed even more excitedly, while my abdomen became increasingly unbearable, as if my uterus was being torn apart and blood might gush out at any moment. ***** I don’t know how much time passed before Luna finally had enough. The staff pulled me back onto the platform. By then, I could no longer feel any fetal movement. My belly, which had been prominently rounded at eight months, now hung limply. I was completely drained, left with nothing but agonized wails: “Save me! It hurts so much! My baby…” Even though I had prepared myself to give up everything, when true despair arrived, survival instinct still made me cry out for help involuntarily. But Charlie acted as if he couldn’t see me at all, immediately embracing Luna: “Luna, how are you? Were you scared? Are you happy?” Luna nodded happily, then glanced at me with feigned casualness: “I wasn’t scared, Charlie. But Ember seemed pretty scared—she kept shouting that she was going to miscarry.”

Charlie’s face darkened when he heard this, and he sneered, “Miscarriage? How many times has she claimed she was ‘going to miscarry’ since getting pregnant? Isn’t the baby still fine?” With that, he walked over to where I lay sprawled on the ground and looked down at me condescendingly. “Get up and get out of here. Don’t hold up other people’s bungee jumping.” I was already pale with pain, unable to utter a single word. I could only tremble as I grabbed onto his pant leg, pleading for help: “Please, call an ambulance for me. I’m dying…” Seeing this, Charlie’s expression grew even uglier. He kicked his leg sharply to shake off my hand and sneered coldly, “No wonder Luna said you’re such a good actress—she wasn’t wrong. You’re in such good shape, who are you putting on this show for? You’re not even half as good as Luna.” A nearby tourist, seeing my pained expression, couldn’t help but intervene: “Sir, your wife seems to be in real distress. Maybe you should call an ambulance?” Charlie frowned and finally bent down to take a closer look at me. But before he could see clearly, Luna’s weak cry came from behind him: “Charlie, I feel so dizzy.” Before she finished speaking, she collapsed gracefully. Charlie immediately rushed over and caught her steadily, his eyes full of concern: “Luna, what’s wrong? Were you scared just now? Quick! Call an ambulance! I’m taking you to the hospital right away!” As he spoke, he had already scooped Luna up and was rushing down from the bungee platform. From an angle Charlie couldn’t see, Luna—who had just appeared so fragile—shot me a provocative look filled with mockery and triumph. I endured the excruciating pain and stared intently at their retreating figures. I felt as if something inside me was being torn apart, and blood suddenly gushed out, completely overwhelming my body. Suddenly, screams erupted all around. “Blood! So much blood!” “Oh my God! Why is this woman bleeding so much down there? She’s hemorrhaging! Call an ambulance!” “With all that blood, she’s going to die!” Amid the chaos and screaming, I gradually lost consciousness, feeling as if I was on the brink of death. Several kind-hearted tourists and staff members found a stretcher and carried me down from the bungee platform. My lower body was soaked in blood—the scene was horrifying. Someone couldn’t bear to look and covered me with a piece of clothing. When they carried me down to the base of the platform, an ambulance had just arrived. Without hesitation, Charlie carried Luna toward the vehicle: “Quick, doctor, get us to the hospital right away!” “Wait!” A staff member from the bungee platform couldn’t stand it anymore and blocked the ambulance: “This pregnant woman here is in more serious condition—save her first!” He then directed people to carry me toward the ambulance. When Charlie saw me approaching, his emotions exploded instantly, and he shouted angrily: “Ember, are you never going to stop? Luna caught a cold from the wind and feels a little unwell, and you just have to steal the ambulance at this moment? You’re putting on quite the performance, even getting people to carry you over here. You make me sick!” I lay on the stretcher in a daze, wanting to wave my hand in explanation, but I didn’t even have the basic strength to do so. The doctor was also confused by Charlie’s words and frowned as he asked: “There’s only one spot in the ambulance. Who called first?” “I did!” Charlie answered urgently, holding Luna as he tried to get into the vehicle, urging the doctor: “Drive to the hospital now, don’t pay attention to that lunatic!” The staff member beside us couldn’t take it anymore and stepped forward to confront him: “What do you mean ‘putting on an act’? Your wife really did faint and lost this much blood, and you won’t even look at her. Instead, you’re being all lovey-dovey with your mistress!” Luna, who had been hiding in Charlie’s arms, heard this and wiped her tears pitifully: “It’s okay, Charlie, don’t fight with Ember over this. She can take the ambulance—I’ll be fine.” As she spoke, she put on another display of dizziness, as if she were about to collapse again. Charlie’s heart ached terribly. He held her even tighter and roughly pushed my stretcher away: “No way! As long as I’m here today, Ember will absolutely not get on this ambulance!” Just as he finished speaking, Sophia Fuller, a nurse who had arrived with the ambulance, lifted the clothing covering me and cried out in alarm: “Oh my God! Contact the hospital to prepare for emergency surgery! This pregnant woman has miscarried and is hemorrhaging severely—it’s extremely dangerous!” Charlie froze, his entire body going rigid.

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After my father died, my mother remarried, taking me and my sister Mia Lawrence with her. But my stepfather Richard Stanford would only allow my mother to bring one of us children. I learned from those mourning my father that my grandfather Henry Lawrence was an antique collector and very wealthy. Mia clung to grandfather, refusing to let go. But my grandfather only made her study hard, keeping her food, clothing, and expenses extremely frugal. Meanwhile, Richard’s business flourished, and he moved me into a grand mansion. I was even engaged to a wealthy young master. She went mad with jealousy, doused me with gasoline, and we both returned to that moment of choice. This time she gripped Richard’s hand tightly. “I want to stay with Mom and Dad.” I quickly ran behind my grandfather. “Mia, if this life is just a bargaining chip at the dinner table, then I’ll give it to you!” ***** Mom looked at me and Mia with difficulty. “Evelyn, Mia, which one of you wants to come with me? The other will stay and live with Grandfather.” Mom looked at me, then worriedly at Mia. Mia had always been closer to her since childhood, so naturally she wanted Mia to come with her. Under Mom’s expectant gaze, Mia proactively grabbed Richard’s hand. “I want to go with you!” And I ran behind Grandfather, grasping his calloused hands. Facing me, Mia’s lips curved upward in a mocking expression. I knew she must have been reborn just like me. In my previous life, after my father died, we also faced this same choice. But Mia had heard at my father’s funeral that Grandfather was an antique collector, so she chose Grandfather without hesitation. Before leaving, she said to me smugly: “I’ll soon be living the good life with Grandfather, while you’ll be stuck helping Richard babysit like a nanny.” But when she got to Grandfather’s house, it was nothing like the classical estate she’d imagined. Just one house, a yard full of dirt, and a beat-up old pickup truck. The antique jewelry collection she’d imagined—she searched everywhere but couldn’t find any. She went to ask Grandfather, only to receive his angry rebuke: “Who told you I collect antiques? You’re still young—studying is the most important thing for you.” While others played in the fields during summer vacation, she could only read those obscure, difficult books in her room. She wanted to dress up nicely to go out, but she wore the same old clothes year after year. Grandfather just tended his garden and played cards with neighbors. The money he gave her was barely enough for daily meals. Meanwhile, Richard’s business grew more and more successful. We moved from subsidized housing to a large apartment, then from the apartment to a villa district. Soon the Stanford family name became well-known. I wore elegant gowns with perfect makeup, appearing with Richard at various high-society gatherings. Everyone who met me praised my gracious manner and good breeding. I attended an elite private school and traveled everywhere in luxury cars. When Mia was brought over during winter break, she wore faded old clothes. My stepbrother Hector Stanford buried his head in my mother’s arms: “Who is she? She smells!” At the dinner table, Richard and I discussed which balls to attend next week, what etiquette classes to take next, and he told Mom to take me shopping for more beautiful clothes. Mia tried to join the conversation but found she couldn’t break into our discussion. She cried pitifully: “I should be a daughter of the Stanford family too! Why does she have everything while I have nothing?!” Richard frowned at my mother: “Why did you bring her here? When we’re discussing serious matters, where do you get off interrupting?” Mia thought my mother would defend her, but instead Mom said: “If I wasn’t afraid of people gossiping, saying I forgot about my other daughter after becoming successful, why would I bring her back? Sigh, children raised in the countryside really do turn out this petty.” That day Mia broke many things, and Richard decided to throw her out. In the end, it was Grandfather who drove through the heavy rain in that old pickup truck to take her back.

After Mia returned, Grandpa never allowed her to sneak over to see us again. Richard also told my mother to stop caring about Mia, that useless waste of a daughter. So Mia could only stay at Grandpa’s house, supervised by him daily as she studied. When the SAT scores came out, she did well and rekindled hope of returning to Stanford Villa. Overjoyed, she came to Stanford Villa with her acceptance letter in hand. But when she arrived at Stanford Villa, no one paid attention to her. Because today was my farewell party. Richard had already pulled strings to send me abroad to study. The hair clip in my hair, the bracelet on my wrist, the necklace around my neck—everything was sparkling. All of this stung Mia’s eyes. She struggled through the crowd, trying to show my mother and Richard her acceptance letter. But Hector pushed her to the ground. “Where did this beggar come from? Where’s security?” After Mia was pulled up, Mother finally recognized her. Her acceptance letter fell to the ground and was trampled to pieces. My mother only had someone release her, then never spoke to her again. Mother took my arm and chatted with various CEO wives. I was gracious and charming, delighting them all. “Your eldest daughter really is something—so poised and elegant. Whoever marries Evelyn will be truly blessed.” “I heard you have a younger daughter too. How is she?” Mother waved dismissively. “Better not to mention her. She’s as annoying as her grandfather.” Mia stood awkwardly to the side, watching me move through every corner of the hall. I held a wine glass, chatting enthusiastically with wealthy young men by the buffet table. Richard clapped his hands, and the entire room fell silent. He took my hand and led me to the stage. “My daughter is eighteen now, and it’s time I let her go out and make her own way in the world.” With that, Richard smiled as he handed me a bank card. “Study abroad, and make sure you take good care of yourself!” A picture of deep father-daughter affection. Then James Fulton walked onto the stage. He gently knelt on one knee and kissed the back of my hand. “I’ll wait for you to come back.” When James stood up, Richard placed my hand in his and announced the true purpose of this farewell party. “When Evelyn returns from abroad, she and James will be engaged.” Everyone applauded their congratulations, while some wealthy young men sighed with regret. “But James really is impressive—so young and already closing so many big deals. He’s practically surpassing his father.” Mia’s eyes revealed hatred as she stared at me like a venomous snake. She felt all of this should have been hers—she should be the one enjoying a life of luxury, she should be the one getting engaged to an outstanding man! That night, I received a text from Mia asking me to chat with her. “Evelyn, I’m in so much pain. I miss you.” I casually threw on a jacket and went to our agreed meeting place. Mia turned to look at me with a crazed expression, holding a bucket in her hands. “If it weren’t for you, all of this would be mine!” She splashed the liquid from the bucket on me, hugged me tightly, then threw the lighter. “Evelyn, if I can’t live well, neither can you. Let’s die together!” Both of us perished in the flames, and once again I returned to that moment of choice. This time, she chose Mother and Richard first. Before leaving, she came over to hug me and whispered mockingly in my ear, “Go ahead and rot in the ground with that old relic! You damn pauper!” Riding in Grandpa’s old pickup truck, I arrived in the countryside. It certainly wasn’t as nice as the city, but it wasn’t as terrible as Mia had described either. Grandpa had already prepared a room for me in advance. My room had a wooden bed, a wooden desk, and a wooden bookshelf. The room was filled with the scent of wood, which made me feel very comfortable. I opened my suitcase—there wasn’t much inside, so I finished organizing quickly. Grandpa had already returned from working the fields, carrying a piece of meat in his hand. Though he said nothing, I knew he had bought it especially for me. Grandpa wasn’t good with words, but he kept urging me to eat more. “After you eat, go wash the dishes. There’s no dishwasher on this farm!” Before he finished speaking, I had already started washing the dishes. Grandpa grunted. “The road ahead is long, and today doesn’t count as hardship. Since you’re with me now, there’ll be plenty more suffering to come!”

I knew he was the type who acted tough but had a soft heart. The next day, after I sneezed from catching a cold, I found an extra blanket on my bed that evening. The bookshelf Grandpa had prepared for me was packed with books, mostly history texts that looked particularly old—some didn’t even have covers anymore. Grandpa strictly demanded that I read through all of them. But history books were really boring and hard for me to understand. In the evenings, Grandpa would pull me to sit in the courtyard under the starry sky, telling me heroic stories. Gradually, I became interested. Occasionally, Grandpa would also teach me how to identify different soil layers. When I got it wrong, he’d scold me for being stupid, but he would secretly record my mistakes in his little notebook. Though life was modest, Grandpa treated me extremely well, even if he never expressed his love for me directly. He worried that a girl like me would struggle without her mother’s companionship, so he often asked available women in the village to look after me. Winter break passed quickly, and school was about to start. Late at night, I could still see him scrubbing the mud stains off that old pickup truck. Grandpa dropped me off at the school entrance, and before I even walked through the gates, I spotted Mia and Mom. Mia stepped out of a luxury car, carrying a designer bag, pulling Mom along like a proud swan. When Mia saw me, she enthusiastically came over to grab my hand but stopped abruptly in front of me, covering her nose. “Evelyn, why do you smell like cow manure?” I covered my nose too, because her perfume was overwhelming me. Mia put on a surprised expression. “Evelyn, how come you’re taking a cattle truck to school? Didn’t you say your grandpa was an antique collector? I just rode in a luxury car worth millions of dollars!” Then she casually greeted some wealthy kids getting out of their luxury cars. Mia turned to look at me. “Evelyn, you and I aren’t from the same world anymore. Richard takes me to all kinds of parties every day, unlike you who can only stay on that broken farm.” She stepped on my shoe. “Your shoes are so dirty. Mine cost hundreds of times more than yours. You should feel honored that I’m stepping on you.” I didn’t get angry. I crouched down and cleaned my shoe with my sleeve, then looked at her calmly. “Are you trying to take out all the frustration you get at home on me?” Mia laughed angrily. “Frustration? I’m having a great time every day—how could I be frustrated! You should worry about yourself!” But I could see the discomfort in her eyes—I had hit a nerve. After school, I was doing homework in my room when I heard knocking at the door. I opened it but only saw a shoebox on the ground. The grandson of the elderly neighbor lady went to my school, and yesterday I heard him begging for new shoes, saying he’d need them for PE class when school started. Before I could say anything, the shoes were already at my door. I felt incredibly warm, and suddenly tears wet my face. When I lived at Stanford Villa, Richard only cared about profit—there was no genuine affection there. Teenagers’ stomachs are fragile to begin with, and every day after school, Richard would bring out various types of alcohol and force me to drink. With each glass, I had to say something flattering. On weekends, I also had to learn “ballroom dancing.” Their so-called ballroom dancing involved finding the right angles while dancing to let men see what they wanted to see, allowing them to take advantage. I asked Mom if this wasn’t a sign of lacking self-respect. But Mom stroked her belly and said coldly, “This is all to cultivate you. Can’t you be more understanding?” They made me pour drinks for those wealthy men, satisfying their hidden desires. Only this way could Richard negotiate business deals with them. Even my marriage was something they had arranged. James appeared polished and glamorous on the surface, but privately he was a degenerate. I was pushed around like a gambling chip at their drinking parties, often waking up in pain in the middle of the night. Even when I had stomach bleeding, they’d just give me an injection and drag me to another cocktail party. A semester passed, and summer vacation arrived. Mom rarely contacted Grandpa, but now she wanted to bring me back. I knew they wanted to buy land and do business with the big boss Victor Hughes. Bringing me back was just to highlight how exceptional Mia was. It was the same in my previous life, and it had gotten Mia’s hopes up for nothing. I didn’t want to go back, but I was afraid they’d keep bothering Grandpa, so I went along. Victor was an upright man. In my previous life, Richard tried to bribe him using his usual tactics, which ruined the deal, and back then he blamed me for it. But he wouldn’t hit me because he still needed to use me—he’d just punish me by not letting me eat for several days under the excuse of maintaining my figure. Richard had originally arranged to meet at the banquet hall, but the boss brought Richard directly to the plot of land. Mia wore an ultra-short skirt, her legs covered with red welts from bug bites, yet she still had to maintain her smile. Victor asked Richard, “You want to buy this land?” Richard nodded eagerly, but then heard Victor ask again, “Do you know what this place used to be? Do you know what this soil represents?” They stammered and couldn’t answer. Suddenly, I remembered a story Grandpa had told me: “This used to be a cemetery. The soil color looks like it’s been settled for a long time—the history must go way back.” Victor’s eyes lit up. “Who taught you that? Mr. Stanford, I didn’t expect your daughter to know how to read soil layers. Such knowledge!” This was from one of Grandpa’s stories—I never thought I’d be praised for it. Richard still hadn’t figured out Victor’s true intentions and pushed Mia forward: “Evelyn’s always been in the countryside, what knowledge could she have? Let Mia chat with you instead!” Victor then realized why Mia was dressed that way and got a bit angry: “I’m not selling this land! And don’t think I’m the kind of sleazy person you take me for!” After the unpleasant parting, Richard brought us home with a dark expression. Mia cried pitifully: “If it weren’t for Evelyn, I definitely would have succeeded. She deliberately sabotaged everything!” Mom chimed in from the side: “I should have known better than to bring her back. The moment she comes home, she ruins the family’s big plans!” Richard flew into a rage, slapping me across the face and pulling out his belt to whip me: “You jinx!” It hurt so much. The more I resisted, the harder he hit. I even thought I might be beaten to death right there. As I lost consciousness, I seemed to see an upright figure. I wondered if I was hallucinating. Why did this person look so much like Grandpa?

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