Category: English

After being released from prison, I started doing risqué late-night livestreams for money. When my stepmother found out, she tried to persuade me to seduce my sister’s boss. I said, “Fine, but don’t regret it!” I want your whole family to pay for what you did to me and my deceased mother. 0 The sales representative called me at noon, reminding me to pay the remaining balance for the two burial plots I had reserved. I opened PayPal to check my balance: $19,654.07. I was still $345 short of the final payment. The sales rep suggested, “Miss Foster, if you’re tight on funds right now, we have two suitable plots in section three. They’re $4,000 cheaper than these two, and if you pay in full today, you’ll get an additional 2% discount.” I knew I couldn’t give up on those two plots. They were at the highest point on the hill, overlooking the entire city. My mother had been buried in a muddy plot in our hometown for most of her life. I wanted her to be buried with me at the highest point in this city. Together, we would watch my father’s family of three face their retribution. 0

I bought a ticket home and packed my meager belongings. On a misty morning, I returned to my father’s city from the place I had been living. By noon, I was standing at my father’s doorstep with my luggage. I hadn’t been back since my release from prison, so I had no memory of this shabby house in the run-down neighborhood. I couldn’t remember my stepmother’s phone number, so I had to tell my dad I was coming home. While waiting for him to come and open the door, a neighbor who recognized me stared at me for a long time. “You’re Mia Foster, aren’t you?” she asked. I nodded awkwardly. The woman glared at me, spat in my direction, and turned away. “Six years in prison and you still haven’t learned your lesson. You’re back to doing that disgusting stuff online as soon as you’re out.” “Robert must be blind to have a daughter like you!” It seemed my stepmother had already spread exaggerated stories about my livestreaming throughout the neighborhood. I couldn’t be bothered to argue with her. Sitting on my suitcase, I said, “You’d better keep a close eye on your son, so I don’t have a chance to seduce him.” “You little slut!” The woman was furious. “You’re nothing but a whore. Why don’t you just die? You’re wasting oxygen by being alive!” I laughed coldly. Don’t worry, I’ll be dead soon enough. The winter in this city was damp and cold. Even the slightest breeze could chill you to the bone. Despite wearing thick thermal pants, the cold wind made my lower body ache and go numb. After six years in prison, it had been a long time since I’d experienced winter outside. I sat on my suitcase, enduring the cold wind for four hours, until lights began to come on in the apartments around the neighborhood. That’s when I saw Chloe post on social media. It was a photo of her cutting a birthday cake in a restaurant with our dad and Stephanie. The warmth of the family scene was almost palpable through the screen. The caption read: “With a sincere heart, I embrace the lessons of time. Many thanks to my dearest daddy and mommy for ushering in my 23rd year.” Oh, so today was Chloe’s birthday. Chloe, my half-sister, the one who had pushed me into the abyss. I looked at my dad’s unanswered message and called the locksmith’s number posted on the wall. 0

In six years, the layout of the house had changed completely. The largest bedroom had become Chloe’s exclusive “princess room,” while what used to be my room, barely larger than the bathroom, had been merged with the balcony. The down jacket my mother had left me before she died was now being used as a dog bed. “Woof! Woof! Woof!” The family dog barked incessantly at me, so I simply locked it in Chloe’s room. My dad, who hadn’t replied to my message, finally called and told me to stay with a friend for now. Lying on the couch, I lied and said I had nowhere to go. Perhaps out of guilt, dad sent me $200 via PayPal, saying, “The house is being renovated, so there’s no place for you to stay. Go find a motel for now, and tomorrow you can go stay with your uncle in the countryside for a few days.” “You’re busy, I’ll figure it out myself!” I replied. Two hours later, I saw Chloe post a video. She was enjoying a luxurious hot spring with our dad and Stephanie. Next to them was my typically weak-willed father and my obese stepmother. This time, the caption read: “Thanks, Dad, for letting me experience a hot spring that only the wealthy can afford.” Below the video was a comment from my dad – three rose emojis. Such a touching father-daughter moment, how enviable! Lying on the couch, I thought it would be nice if they stayed away for a few more days. That way, I could come home, get my family registration document, remove myself from it, and cut ties with this family of three for good. But things didn’t go as planned. At 1 AM, thanks to some neighbor’s “kind” reminder, the family of three returned home with the police. 0

“Officer, this little bitch was just released from prison. You’d better take her back and teach her a lesson,” my stepmother’s shrill voice echoed through the building as soon as the door opened. “Robert, look at your good-for-nothing daughter. She’s been in jail for years and hasn’t learned a thing. Now she’s breaking and entering!” “You little slut, why couldn’t you have died in prison?” The police officer approached me and asked, “Let me see your ID. What’s your relationship to the owner of this house?” “I’m his daughter. I couldn’t find my key, so I called a locksmith to open the door to my own home. Is that a crime?” I handed my ID to the officer. The officer looked at my dad, expecting him to say something. But my dad looked at Stephanie and finally muttered, “Didn’t I give you money to stay at a motel? Calling someone to open someone else’s door like this, aren’t you just causing trouble for yourself?” So, in my father’s eyes, I was already an outsider? Dad pulled the officer aside and explained something, finally sending him away. Stephanie glared at me with hatred. “Robert, check if anything’s missing. Even if it’s just a pair of chopsticks, I want to send this little bitch back to jail for a few more days.” Chloe, who had been standing nearby, suddenly remembered something and rushed into her bedroom. “Mom, she locked Buddy in my room! There’s pee and poop everywhere!” Chloe angrily chased the dog out and stood at the door, crying pitifully. “Mia Foster, what have your father and I ever done to wrong you? Do you want to tear this family apart before you’re satisfied?” Stephanie demanded. “Where’s my room?” I asked. “You went to jail, why would we keep a room for you?” Stephanie was furious. She grabbed an ashtray from the table and threw it at me. I didn’t dodge. The ashtray hit my head, causing a wave of dizziness. I vaguely felt blood trickling down. “Looks like six years in prison didn’t teach you anything. Look at yourself, you’re just like your dead mother!” “Like mother, like daughter. Expecting a whore to give birth to a phoenix, what a joke!” I remained silent, but my gaze was fixed on Stephanie. If it wasn’t for her seducing my dad in the city, he wouldn’t have spent the money meant for my mom’s treatment on her. In the end, my mom died next to a dying fire in the cold winter. “After your mom died, I wanted to sell the house in your hometown and buy a new one in the city!” After my mother’s simple funeral, dad set his sights on the house my grandfather had left my mom in our hometown. He didn’t even let me refuse. I secretly went to the hill where my mother was buried, thinking about her lying in the mud, and cried my eyes out. But I was powerless. To survive, I had to follow my dad to the city and live in the new home he had built with someone else. “Do I need to remind you how we got this house?” I tried to argue. Stephanie sneered, “The money from selling that house was all spent on you.” “All these years, your schooling, food, clothes – which of these didn’t cost money? You have the nerve to bring this up?” Right, a person who could only wear her sister’s hand-me-downs and lick empty snack bags on the rooftop in summer must have cost the family a fortune. I looked at my dad comforting Chloe and thought about the medical diagnosis in my bag. I had wanted to use it to evoke some final genuine care from my dad before I died. Forget it, there’s no point in showing it now! 0

I ended up sleeping at home that night. Stephanie wanted to thoroughly check if anything was missing, afraid she wouldn’t be able to contact me if I left. “I’m going to check every inch of this house tonight. If even one thing is missing, I’ll personally drag you to the police station,” she threatened. “That’s enough. The bankbook is still here, isn’t it?” Dad rarely spoke up. “What about the watch I bought for Chloe? It cost thousands!” Stephanie persisted. “It probably just fell somewhere,” Dad replied. Since there was no longer a room for me, I had to make do with the couch. Because I needed to raise the remaining balance, I waited until they were asleep and opened my livestreaming app. I changed into a thin, low-cut nightgown and started streaming on the balcony. Men love this kind of thing. Although I tried to be as quiet as possible, I still woke up Stephanie. She stood in the living room, cursing. “If you want to act like a whore, do it somewhere else. Don’t pollute my home.” I had no choice but to end the stream and lie on the couch, wrapping myself in the down jacket from my luggage. Yes, not even a blanket in this house belonged to me. Early the next morning, I took my family registration document to the police station to process my removal from it. The police told me that without proof of property ownership, an unmarried person couldn’t remove themselves from their family’s registration. I was devastated. I couldn’t afford to buy a house! And marriage? Who would want to marry a “bad girl” who had “killed” someone, and was now in the late stages of cervical cancer with little time left to live? I returned home dejectedly. The couch was full of people, and the down jacket I had used as a blanket last night was bundled up and thrown onto the balcony. “Stephanie, did anything go missing from the house?” someone asked. “Haven’t found anything yet!” Stephanie called from the kitchen where she was busy making porridge. She deliberately raised her voice when she saw me come in. As soon as I entered the house, the pain hit me again. My lower body started to ache. “Isn’t it said that people who’ve been to prison are well-educated by the state?” a sharp-faced woman stared at me as she spoke. “How a person turns out depends on their mother’s upbringing. Wouldn’t you agree, Mrs. Pay?” another chimed in. “Absolutely. You can’t expect a phoenix to hatch from a chicken’s egg!” The living room erupted in laughter. “Mrs. Pay, you’ve hit the nail on the head. Just for that comment, I’ll make sure to give you an extra-large bowl of my Laba porridge,” Stephanie called from the kitchen. Oh, so today was the Laba Festival. Since I got sick, I’ve forgotten so many things – memories, friends, even dates. Ever since I came to the city with my dad at the age of six, Stephanie had been calling me “little bastard” behind my back and telling others that my mom was lazy and just waiting for dad to make money. She spread rumors that my mom was cheating on my dad. She’s been saying these things for over a decade, and she still seems to enjoy it. Fighting through the pain in my body, I deliberately bumped into the woman who had just spoken to Stephanie and sat down on the edge of the sofa. Looking at her, I said, “Auntie Pay, you were already pregnant when you married my uncle. Did you ever tell him the child wasn’t his?” This was a piece of gossip I had overheard Stephanie sharing with others behind closed doors thirteen years ago. “You little bitch, what nonsense are you spouting?” Stephanie, who had been busy in the kitchen, rushed out and slapped me across the face. I pretended to be wronged and said, “Mom, isn’t that what you said back then? You said Auntie Pay had been used and discarded by someone in the city, and she was afraid she wouldn’t be able to have children if she had an abortion, so she secretly slept with Uncle next door while hiding her pregnancy…” Since I didn’t have much life left anyway, I decided I would no longer hold back. “You little bastard, I’m going to beat you to death today!” Mrs. Pay was furious and lunged at me. Faced with everyone’s stares, Stephanie didn’t know how to explain. She could only run back to the kitchen and tell my dad to come home quickly. 0

The lively pre-Christmas gathering turned cold and quiet because of my few words. Stephanie told me to pack my things and get out, never to return to this home again. “Don’t worry, once I get my name removed from the family registration, I’ll never come back to disturb your perfect family of three,” I promised her. I shamelessly lay down on the couch to sleep. The physical pain almost made me pass out, until I heard my dad’s voice in the living room. Dad came back and lectured me, saying I shouldn’t have spoken ill of Stephanie in front of the neighbors. “Mia, it’s dad’s fault for not raising you properly all these years, but Stephanie is innocent in this,” he said. “You were only six or seven at the time, and I was always out trying to make money. If it wasn’t for Stephanie taking care of this home and looking after you and Chloe, this family would have fallen apart long ago.” He tried to comfort me: “What’s done is done with the prison thing. Now that you’re out and not getting any younger, and with the family’s tight finances these past couple of years, why don’t you find someone suitable and get married?” My heart felt like it was being stabbed! No matter what he said, I didn’t respond. “Mia, I hope you’ll consider things from my perspective. Dad’s getting old now, don’t make things difficult for me.” I curled up tightly, controlling my emotions so I wouldn’t cry out loud. Robert Foster, I will leave. I won’t make things difficult for you anymore. 0

I still couldn’t resolve the issue of removing myself from the family registration. I really couldn’t find anyone to marry. And I couldn’t afford to buy a house! Without these two conditions, I had no way to remove myself from my family’s registration. Fortunately, I managed to scrape together the remaining three thousand dollars for the burial plots. I transferred the final payment to the cemetery company’s account. Only after confirming that the two plots truly belonged to me did I feel some relief. As I was preparing to sleep that night, Stephanie came out of the bedroom with an envelope and stood in front of me. “What is it? It’s late,” I said, thinking she wanted to settle scores with me. She threw the envelope on the coffee table. “I’ve asked around. A woman like you is only worth this much for a night. Take the money and come with me tomorrow night to meet someone.” “What do you mean?” “Chloe has been in the dance troupe for over a year but hasn’t had a chance to perform a solo. You’re single anyway, so go spend a night with their dance troupe director. The money will be yours.” “I’ve raised you since your mother died. I’ve provided for you all these years, and I’m not asking for you to repay me in the future. Just do me this favor, and we’ll call it even for all the years I’ve taken care of you.” “Since you’re already in this line of work, just consider it me looking out for your business.” “If you please this director well, he might even be willing to keep you as his mistress. Then you won’t have to beg for a few dollars from men through your livestreams every day.” 0 Ever since I went to prison six years ago, my stepmother had labeled me as a bad woman. I coldly replied, “Take your money and get out!”

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I had been in a relationship with James for nearly 10 years, and as he approached 30, his performance in bed was declining. His temper and behavior were becoming increasingly erratic and unpredictable. After returning from a business trip, I was shocked to find that James seemed to have reverted to the state he was in when we first started dating. Our intimate life was becoming more and more in sync. But what puzzled me was that every time we made love, he would insist on blindfolding me. At first, I thought it was just a kink. Later, I realized that during our intimate moments, I would unconsciously caress a scar on his back. But James never had any scars… Today is Thursday, and it’s been over two weeks since I returned from my business trip. Strangely, since my return, James and his mother Linda have been treating me better and better, but also more and more oddly. At first, I didn’t think anything was wrong, assuming it was because I had been promoted to manager while James was still a low-level employee with no prospects for advancement. I thought it was just because I had become the main source of income for the family. Since my return, James seemed like a different person, seeking intimacy with me every night. It left me feeling dazed and confused. My mother-in-law would also bring me a cup of white fungus soup every night before bed and in the morning. She claimed it was to nourish my body. I felt like the goddess of fortune had smiled upon me.

That day, a package I ordered arrived. It was a see-through nightgown. I thought, since James was putting in so much effort, I shouldn’t disappoint him. Coincidentally, my mother-in-law called in the afternoon to say she was going to their hometown to bring back some things. So tonight, I wanted to give James a surprise. I picked up the package and went home early. James hadn’t finished work yet, so I took a shower and carefully pampered my body. My skin was fragrant and smooth, intoxicating. I changed into the see-through nightgown and hid in the bedroom closet. After a while, I heard the door open. It was James. “Hello, Mr. Robert. Yes, I’ll send you a message when everything’s ready for you to come over.” “Mr. Robert? Why does he sound so respectful and submissive?” I thought when I heard this title. “Is a guest coming? Then I better not come out dressed like this.” Just as I was about to leave the closet, I heard James walk in. I thought it would be embarrassing to come out dressed like this, so I kept waiting. After a moment, James took a phone call and left. I came out of the closet and changed into regular pajamas with a camisole underneath. It was dinner time, and I found the white fungus soup Linda had left in the pot, still warm. “How nice,” I thought, and drank half a bowl. Just as I finished, James came back. He was surprised to see me, “Lily, why are you home?” I didn’t want to tell him about the nightgown, so I made up a lie, “Oh, I wasn’t feeling well, so I took off early.” I noticed his expression was a bit off, “Is something wrong? Problems at work?” James seemed to snap out of it, forced a smile, and came over to hug me, “It’s nothing, I just missed you, honey.” I leaned into his embrace, feeling extremely warm. At this moment, James noticed the bowl on the table, “Did you have the soup?” “Yes, I was a bit hungry, so I ate some.” “How much did you eat?” “About a bowl.” Hearing this, James seemed to relax. His hands holding me started to become restless, his lips teasing my ear, making me feel ticklish and my body soft. He picked me up and carried me to the bedroom. Just like the past two weeks, he took out a black lace blindfold, intending to cover my eyes. Seeing his actions, I pouted, “Can we not use the blindfold? I want to see you when you’re… you know.” James’s face suddenly tensed up. Thinking he was angry, and not wanting to ruin the mood, I quickly said, “Okay, okay, let’s use it. Go ahead.” James then covered my eyes. The lack of vision made my skin even more sensitive. James leaned down, continuously kissing my forehead, nose, lips, neck, and then gradually moving lower. My mind was becoming hazier, but not as severe as the previous times. At this point, I felt the warmth on my body disappear. The haziness in my mind only allowed me to express my dissatisfaction with soft moans. “Be good, I’m going to get a condom. Wait a moment.” Hearing his voice, I relaxed. After a while, I felt someone on top of me again. I wrapped my arms around his neck, accepting his increasingly rapid rhythm.

At this moment, my hands, which were restlessly roaming his back, felt a scar. It wasn’t long, about 6-7 centimeters. Suddenly, a thought flashed through my mind – James didn’t have any scars… I wanted to use my hand to remove the blindfold and look at James. The next second, my hands were pinned above my head. With a shudder, the person on top of me got up and left. I waited a moment, then reached up to remove the blindfold. What I saw was James’s pale face. Seeing me move, James looked as if he had discovered something terrible, his voice shaking, “Why are you awake?” Afraid he might think he hadn’t performed well, I said, “I’m very tired and sleepy. I want to sleep again.” Then I hugged him, acting coy. James brought a face towel, “Be good, let me wipe you down.” I kissed him, “Okay!” Afterwards, James brought the white fungus soup, “Be good, drink this to replenish your energy.” I was a bit hungry, and since I had been drinking it every night, I didn’t think anything was wrong. “Okay, thank you, honey.” After that, I fell into a deep sleep.

After everything was over, James went to the hallway to make a phone call. “A total of 10 times, that should be enough! I hope you can keep your promise. Next week, I want to hear the news of my promotion to regional director.” James’s face was filled with anger, his eyes bloodshot, his fingers digging into the wall until his fingertips turned white. The person on the other end laughed, “Oh, James, James. You’re so lucky to have such a beautiful and soft wife. What can I say? I’ve become addicted.” James’s eyes widened in disbelief, “What do you mean?!” “I mean, I want one more time. One last time, and I’ll guarantee you become the regional director.” Seemingly shocked by the other party’s shamelessness, James’s face contorted, his eyes blazing red. “Absolutely not! Robert, you’ve slept with my wife 10 times already, I want to kill you!” Robert seemed unaffected by James’s anger, his tone full of confidence, “One last time, and I’ll make sure you become the head of the main office. How about that?” James’s anger seemed to dissipate instantly, replaced by disbelief tinged with excitement, “Really? The head of the main office is a much higher position than regional director!” “Of course.” James replied without hesitation, “Fine! Tomorrow night!” He hung up the phone, the hatred in his eyes instantly replaced by joy, without a trace of guilt. Naturally, he didn’t notice me behind the corner, struck by lightning, my expression devastated, yet desperately covering my mouth…

After I fell asleep, I woke up needing to use the bathroom, probably from drinking too much water. Although my body felt weak and limp, I didn’t want to wet the bed. Mustering my last bit of strength, I opened my eyes. I found that James was gone. At this moment, I heard voices from the hallway. I listened closely, it was James. I opened the door and went out. As I reached the corner, I overheard James’s conversation. “10 times”, “promotion”, “tomorrow night” Each word was like a knife stabbing into my heart, the pain unbearable. I covered my mouth tightly with both hands, my limbs growing cold, my thoughts blurry. An overwhelming hatred threatened to consume me. I needed to understand what was really going on. I struggled back to bed, lay down, and pretended nothing had happened. Moments later, James returned. I felt James kiss my forehead, murmuring, “I’m sorry, Lily. Just one last time.” I kept my eyes closed, desperately trying to suppress my body’s urge to tremble with hatred… Early the next morning, Linda returned from the countryside. Today, I noticed many things I had never paid attention to before. For instance, the white fungus soup at night and the next morning was only served when James and I had been intimate. For instance, when drinking the soup, Linda always had to watch me finish a bowl. For instance, Linda’s delighted expression and James’s unnatural attitude every time I finished the soup. For instance… every time James stopped to say he was getting a condom, but I had never seen any used ones in the house.

That day, I pretended everything was normal, drank the soup, and left for work. In reality, after leaving, I took a sample of the soup from the pot and sent it to a testing center. I requested urgent results within 8 hours. Throughout the day, thinking about what was happening at home, I felt anxious and uneasy, as if I were on pins and needles. I didn’t want to believe that the man I had been with for 10 years was a monster who would offer his wife to others for a promotion! After work, as soon as I entered the door, Linda put on a fake smile, her face full of wrinkles, “Oh, Lily’s back! Quick, quick, sit down. Mom made white fungus soup again tonight. Drink up, it’s good for your beauty and health.” I took the soup and brought it to my lips, but kept watching Linda out of the corner of my eye. Her cunning expression was disgusting. I pretended to put down the soup, “Mom, I’m not feeling well today. I don’t want to drink it.” Hearing this, Linda’s voice suddenly rose by 8 octaves, becoming piercingly shrill, “Not drinking?! How can that be? You must drink it!” She then forcefully made me drink it all. Seeing that I had finished the whole bowl, she resumed her kind and gentle demeanor, “Good Lily, you’re truly a blessing to our family.” As she spoke, she kept eyeing me up and down with a sickening gaze, like a man would. Suppressing my nausea, I said, “Mom, I’m going to take a shower.” “Good, good, go ahead. A shower is good!” I went into the bedroom bathroom and started to make myself vomit until I had thrown up all the soup! I raised my head, my fingers tightly gripping the sink. My eyes were bloodshot from the forced vomiting, filled with tears. “James! Linda! If you’re really this inhuman, don’t blame me for what comes next!” That night, I went through the motions with James as before. Having thrown up the bowl of soup, I clearly felt that today I wasn’t as dizzy as usual, but rather unusually clear-headed. As I had guessed, after blindfolding me, he got up to get a condom, and after a while, a man came. When he entered me, I clearly felt that the size was different! Every time before, my thoughts had been so muddled that I hadn’t noticed at all! I listened to his voice, my hand as always finding that scar… It was indeed him! In an instant, I tore off the blindfold. The man seemed not to expect this move from me, was startled, and immediately climaxed. I looked at this unfamiliar face, “Who are you?!”

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On Valentine’s Day, a day known as the Valentine’s Day, I made a special effort to rush home from another city to surprise my wife. When I arrived with 999 roses and her favorite stuffed bear, I opened the door to a shocking scene: my wife was asking her male “best friend” for a kiss while hugging him. She didn’t even flinch at my presence; instead, she calmly threatened to call the police if I dared to hit anyone. Her so-called friend had the audacity to say I was interrupting their private time. I snapped a photo as evidence. Love, it turns out, is fleeting; only interests last forever. When I walked in and saw Adeline kissing and embracing another man, I was paralyzed with shock. I couldn’t process what I was seeing, and the gifts I had brought slipped from my hands to the floor. The commotion snapped them out of their moment, and they turned to face me. Adeline looked displeased. “Why are you back? You didn’t mention you’d be coming. What if you scared us?” The man beside her mocked me with a dismissive gesture. “Checking in on us, are you? A grown man who can’t handle such things—how small-minded.” Rage clenched my fists, and I felt an urge to retaliate. “What are you doing?” Adeline stepped in front of him, frowning. “Assault is illegal! If you try anything, I’ll call the police!” “I was just playing a game with Lachlan, can’t you stop being so petty?” What sort of game involves kissing? Does she take me for a fool? Seeing my expression, she suddenly changed her tone. “Believe it or not, if you can’t deal with this, let’s just divorce!” Almost every argument ended with her bringing up divorce. Fine, this time I’ll give her what she wants. “Fine, divorce!” She seemed taken aback, not expecting me to agree so easily. Our daughter emerged from her room, saw the three of us there, and immediately stood by Lachlan’s side. In her innocent voice, she asked, “Uncle Lachlan, are you okay? Did Dad do something to you?” Lachlan glanced at me, feigning fear, and quickly shook his head. “No, no, I just stumbled. Your dad didn’t hit me.” When my daughter thought I had hurt her beloved Uncle Lachlan, she went wild, trying to push me away. “You’re mean! I don’t want you as my dad; I want Uncle Lachlan!” She couldn’t physically move me, but her words struck me deeply. Since she was born, I’ve been there for her, doting on her like a little princess. I cherished her so much, yet now she wants someone else to be her dad. I suddenly felt a strange calm. Adeline and Lachlan had asked for a divorce countless times. My daughter favored Lachlan because I set limits on her snacks. Each time, I begged them to come back, being nothing more than a humble admirer in their eyes. Adeline spoke in a casual tone, as if confident I would never leave. “Alright, daughter, your dad didn’t mean it. Tell him to make dinner.” The three of them snuggled together like a family. My daughter glanced at me with disdain. “Hurry up and cook. I’m hungry.” For the first time, I ignored her and threw the carefully selected gifts and roses into the trash. I took a photo of their cozy scene with my phone.

I work tirelessly away from home for the sake of this family, hoping to reunite with them sooner. Yet they spend my money and live with another man, showing no regard for my feelings. If that’s how it is, there’s no point in continuing this charade. I contacted a lawyer to discuss divorce proceedings. I definitely don’t want custody; my daughter wouldn’t choose me anyway. After the call, I lay on the couch, unable to sleep. I opened Lachlan’s Snapchat and scrolled through. He had just posted a new photo: he, Adeline, and our daughter, looking like a blissful family. The caption read: “Two beauties spending Valentine’s Day with me, I’m thrilled.” Their smiles pierced my heart. In all these years of marriage, they never took a photo with me. Whenever I asked, she claimed not to like pictures. It turns out, she just didn’t want to take them with me. Lachlan sent me a photo of him and Adeline in pajamas on my bed, full of mockery. I saved the image quietly. If he wants a woman with a tarnished past, he can have her. No matter how indifferent I act, it still hurts. How did Adeline and I reach this point? Three years ago, I chose to work in another city for a better salary. She supported me, saying she’d take care of our daughter. But gradually, she changed, complaining that I couldn’t provide her with the security she desired. She stopped sharing her daily life, and our conversations dwindled until there was nothing left to say. Our calls went from daily to weekly, then bi-monthly, each ending in an argument. But what could I do? I was buried under car loans, mortgages, and various expenses. She only knew how to ask for money, blind to the pressure I was under. My phone beeped with a message from her. She behaved as if nothing had happened and asked for money. “Rosalie needs tutoring, transfer me $1,000.” I forced myself to transfer the funds. Soon after, she messaged again, “Transfer another $2,000; I’m out of makeup.” I tossed my phone aside, refusing to respond. Drink after drink, the taste wasn’t as good as expected. I used to fear her disdain, never allowing myself to indulge. But now, the freedom to get drunk felt liberating—it let me forget my troubles, even if just for a while. The next morning, a delivery call woke me. It was our custom wedding photos. I touched the happy couple’s faces in the photo, feeling like it was from another lifetime. When we married, we had no money. She suggested skipping the wedding and photos, opting for a destination wedding instead.

That day, I cried tears of joy, grateful to have such a gentle, considerate woman. I silently vowed to give her a grand wedding once I could afford it. Two months ago, I found an excuse to take her for wedding photos, secretly planning the wedding. I intended to surprise her on the wedding day, but now it’s unnecessary. The lawyer prepared the divorce agreement, and I forwarded it to Adeline. Her call came quickly, demanding, “What do you mean? Are you really divorcing me?” I answered calmly, “Yes, I am.” My cold attitude seemed to scare her. She explained, “Don’t misunderstand. Lachlan and I were just playing around.” I stayed silent as Lachlan’s voice came through. “Oh, he can’t be serious, can he? Adeline and I are just friends. He can’t even take a joke.” “He’s always controlling you, giving you no freedom,” Adeline’s voice turned cold. “I tell you, Declan, I have the freedom to make friends. You can’t control me!” I simply replied, “Alright, if the divorce agreement looks good, just sign it.” She paused before saying, “Fine, let’s divorce. Don’t regret it!” Then she hung up. A few days later, Adeline came looking for me, ringing the doorbell continuously. I opened the door to her unhappy face. “Why did you change the lock? If you weren’t here, I’d have to wait all day!” I ignored her complaints, calmly asking, “Did you sign the divorce agreement?” She pulled out a document from her bag, coldly saying, “I want custody of our daughter. You’ll pay child support monthly.” I carefully reviewed each clause and signed my name once I confirmed everything was correct. She watched my actions and sarcastically said, “Afraid I’ll trick you? As a man, can’t you have some decency? I don’t get why I liked trash like you.” She yanked the divorce papers from my hand and stormed out. City Hall was efficient; it took less than half an hour to complete the process. After the thirty-day cooling-off period, we’d be officially divorced. As she drove away with Lachlan, her car left only exhaust in its wake. A few days later, Adeline called again. “My dad’s birthday is coming up. They want you to come. Come back for a visit.” Adeline’s parents always treated me like a son, never looking down on me for being poor. After thinking it over, I decided to visit them. On the way, she messaged, warning me not to mention the divorce to her parents. They treated me well, and I didn’t want to upset them. As soon as I entered, Adeline’s mom warmly pulled me inside, smiling at me. A few days after the call from Adeline, I received an unexpected message from her. “My dad’s birthday is coming up soon, and they would love for you to visit. Can you make it?” Adeline’s parents have always treated me like a son, never looking down on me despite my financial struggles. After giving it a lot of thought, I decided to make the trip. While on the way, Adeline texted me, cautioning me not to mention our divorce to her mother, as she hadn’t disclosed it yet. I simply responded with “okay.” They have always been kind to me, and I didn’t want to cause them any distress. As soon as I arrived, Adeline’s mother warmly welcomed me, pulling me inside with a beaming smile. “Alex, you look like you’ve lost weight. What have you been up to? Come and eat something nice.” I quickly obliged, greeting all the relatives and helping to set the table. My daughter, Rosalie, was thoroughly enjoying herself playing with Lachlan, completely ignoring me. I glanced over at them. Adeline, somewhat uneasy, explained, “Rosalie insisted on playing with Lachlan, so I brought him along. Please, just go along with it.” I nodded, feigning indifference, though it pained me inside. It’s hard for any parent to see their child growing close to someone else. At the dinner table, the adults were engaged in lively conversation, while Rosalie clung to Lachlan. She didn’t even look at me, her biological father. Adeline’s mother noticed and couldn’t refrain from saying, “Rosalie, come sit with your dad. He’s finally here; you should spend some time with him.” Rosalie shot me a glance and turned away irritably. “He’s not my dad. My dad’s right here,” she declared, happily clutching Lachlan’s arm. Adeline’s mother gave me an awkward smile and gently tried to pull her up. “What are you saying? Lachlan isn’t your dad. That’s your dad.” Rosalie resisted, loudly crying, “He divorced my mom. He’s not my dad anymore!” The table fell silent, the atmosphere unbearably tense. Adeline hurriedly went over to calm her daughter, awkwardly laughing it off. “She’s just a kid, saying things she doesn’t understand. Please don’t mind her.” Rosalie protested, “I’m not lying; I saw them divorce.” I stood up, bowing to Adeline’s parents with an apologetic smile. “I’m sorry, Mom. Rosalie’s not wrong. Adeline and I are indeed divorced.” “I’m sorry to bring this up today. I didn’t mean to dampen the mood.” Our families have been closely connected, always happily supporting our little family. Now, hearing about our divorce, Adeline’s mom was visibly upset, clutching her chest. “How could you suddenly be divorced? Rosalie is so young. What will happen to her?” Adeline’s dad frowned, clearly displeased. “I don’t agree with your divorce.” Rosalie broke away from Adeline’s grasp and ran to Lachlan’s side. “Grandma, don’t worry about me. Uncle Lachlan will soon be my dad! Look, I have proof.” She grabbed Adeline’s tablet, opened the photo album, and confidently showed us a picture. “Uncle Lachlan and my mom are together. They’ll get married and have a baby soon.” “Once they’re married, Uncle Lachlan will be my dad! No one can stop me from watching TV and eating snacks anymore.” The photo clearly spoke for itself. Rosalie spoke with innocent excitement, unaware of the adults’ discomfort. Adeline’s face turned pale. She snatched the tablet, deleted the photo, and scolded Rosalie. “When did you take my stuff? You shouldn’t look through my album without permission!” Frightened, Rosalie hid behind Lachlan, speechless. Lachlan remained expressionless, softly comforting Rosalie and saying to Adeline, “Alright, stop scolding her. She’s young and doesn’t understand. It wasn’t intentional.” Adeline could only glare at Rosalie, anxiously trying to grab my hand to explain. “Asher, please don’t misunderstand. I was drunk that day and mistook him for you…” “Believe me, I never betrayed you. You’re the only one I love.” I avoided her hand, speaking calmly. “You don’t need to explain. We’re divorced. You’re free to be with whoever you want.” In her panic, she revealed her true feelings. “I never intended to divorce you. I just wanted to scare you into caring more about me.” “Isn’t there a thirty-day cooling-off period? We’re not officially divorced yet.” I remained silent, just looked at her coldly. She suddenly broke down, yelling at me. “Why didn’t you come to comfort me! You always did when I was angry. Why are you divorcing me now?” “If you hadn’t divorced me, I wouldn’t have drunk, and nothing would’ve happened.” “This is all your fault! You have to take responsibility. You can’t treat me like this.” Finally, someone spoke up, unable to hold back any longer. “Even though I’m your relative, I can’t side with you on this. Blaming others for your own mistakes? You’re not money; not everyone has to adore you.” “You have a child but act like a spoiled girl. Divorce is the right choice.” “And you, not even acknowledging your real dad and treating a stranger like treasure? You’re an ungrateful brat. You’ll regret it when you grow up.” The mother and daughter were left humiliated. Adeline’s mom sighed, making a strong statement. “After doing something so disgraceful, don’t come back once you leave this house. I’ll pretend I never had you as a daughter. From now on, Asher is my only child.” Her words hit hard. Adeline’s face changed, her legs giving out as she collapsed, crying without tears. Since graduation, she never worked and relied on her family for support. After marriage, I supported her, and she never faced any hardships. I wouldn’t give her money anymore, and if her mom truly cut ties, what would she do?

Realizing this, she quickly shook off Lachlan’s hand, yelling at him. “You caused all this! If not for you, I wouldn’t be in this mess. Get out! Don’t show up ever again.” She crawled to hug Adeline’s mom’s legs, crying and begging. “Mom, I’m sorry. Please don’t be mad. Don’t abandon me.” Lachlan couldn’t believe Adeline would treat him this way. For years, he obeyed her every wish, only to end up like this. “What did you say? Weren’t you the one who said Asher was treating you badly and asked me to help? Now you’re burning bridges?” Adeline angrily retorted, “I was just talking! Who told you to take it seriously? This is a family matter; you have no right to speak. Get out!” Her daughter, scared, retreated to Adeline’s mom, pleading, “Grandma, don’t leave us. I don’t want Uncle Lachlan to be my dad anymore.” Adeline’s mom, disgusted, gave him a look and ordered him out. “Leave now. Knowing someone has a family and still getting involved? Shame on you.” She looked at me, wanting to say something but holding back. I knew what she wanted to say and nodded gently. “I’m okay. Please don’t hold any grudge against them because of me.” Adeline’s mom sighed in relief, then hesitantly asked, “Is there really no chance for Adeline? Maybe she truly regrets it.” I firmly replied, “No, we can’t go back.” Leaving Adeline’s house, I slowly walked down the street alone when Lachlan caught up from behind. “Don’t get cocky. Adeline will be mine eventually. She’s just mad at me for now.” I looked at him, puzzled. I was already divorced from Adeline; what’s there to be smug about? He glared at me with malice. “Don’t think being accepted by Adeline’s family is enough. Rosalie likes me the most. As long as I ask, she’ll listen to me. If I get her to speak well of me to her grandparents, where does that leave you?”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “295693”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster #现实主义Realistic #魔幻Magic #重生Reborn

I crossed over, becoming the sister of the CEO, Matthew Campbell, Lois Campbell. Right now, I was holding the eight-million-dollar necklace Kathryn Barnes, his fiancée, gave me, feeling quite pleased with myself. But the next moment, my hopeless brother suddenly brought back a woman from the slums, Nancy Decker, and claimed that they were truly in love. “I object!” I immediately shouted, standing up. My dad froze for a second just as he was about to explode, and everyone in the room turned to look at me. “Matthew, how could you do this!” I quickly walked over to them, gazing at their tightly intertwined hands, and spoke with a pained expression, “Such an important matter, and you didn’t even give us a heads-up. You had to bring it up in front of both families? “Dad always taught us to be considerate and know our place. Look at you now, acting like you’re forcing everyone’s hand. What kind of example is this!” As I spoke, my dad’s expression softened, and he looked at me with a hint of approval, nodding slightly. Matthew was shocked that I, usually so clueless, could say something like that to educate him. He stood frozen, his face turning red with embarrassment. I sighed and, with my hands behind my back, continued seriously, “And on top of that, you chose such an informal occasion, not only embarrassing yourself but also showing a lack of respect for the lady beside you!” Matthew, the mighty CEO, went from confident to deeply ashamed. He looked down and mumbled. “I… I didn’t consider this properly. I’m sorry.” With that, the two of them awkwardly left the house hand in hand. I turned around, put on my sweetest smile, and obediently sat next to Kathryn, Matthew’s fiancée. “Kathryn, don’t mind them. Please continue telling me about your studies in Virelia.” Kathryn smiled shyly and continued talking with me. Meanwhile, my dad had taken Kathryn’s father aside, likely discussing something important.

I thought after yesterday’s incident, Matthew would have learned his lesson. But to my surprise, early this morning, that slum girl showed up again in our living room. If I wasn’t mistaken, she was even holding… a dirty duck?! I widened my eyes, quickly hurrying down from the second floor in my slippers, and rushed to stop her. “No!” The stupid duck seemed to be especially out to get me, immediately jumping onto my exclusive lounge chair and leaving big, messy prints all over the cushion! Damn it, I was too late. I stood there, glaring at it, my fists tightening with anger. That chair was made from royal-grade fabric, specially brought back from Havendale by my dad. I only allowed myself an hour to sit on it each day just to avoid wrinkling it. And now it smelled like a disgusting duck! “Quack.” Suddenly, a devilish sound completely shattered my hope. It actually… dared to poop on it! I was going to kill it! Seeing the murderous look in my eyes, Nancy quickly shielded the duck in her arms, staring at me with caution. I forced myself to hold back my anger, gritting my teeth, and said, “Ms. Decker, do you have any idea how expensive the thing it just ruined is?” Nancy straightened her neck, unashamed, and replied, “Sorry! I’ll work to pay you back. You can yell at me, but please don’t hurt it!” I was stunned. How could anyone be so shameless, even when apologizing? I rubbed my forehead, feeling both furious and absurdly amused. Just as I was about to argue with her more, the doorbell suddenly rang.

Today, the butler was out with my parents, so I had to open the door myself. As soon as I opened it, I saw Kathryn coming toward me with a whole entourage in tow. Yes, an entourage. And each of them was carrying bags of finely packaged clothes and accessories. The scene was overwhelming. Kathryn took my hand gently and said in a soft voice, “Lois, I was in such a rush yesterday that I could only bring you a necklace. “I feel bad about it, so today I had someone buy a few more little gifts. Think of them as a welcome present from me.” I casually glanced at the bags, all international luxury brands, and limited edition ones at that! Things people couldn’t even buy with money! Suddenly, my eyes sparkled, and I eagerly ran over to inspect each item. After running about two hundred yards, I thought the line of gifts had finally come to an end. But then, a sharp turn revealed an endless line of bags and packages behind! I was stunned, my gaze darting toward Kathryn, who smiled shyly and covered her mouth. “I didn’t know which brand you liked, so I just had them buy some of everything.” I thought, “Wow! You’re so generous!” I rushed up and hugged Kathryn, but I moved to tears. Kathryn, however, noticed Nancy standing nearby, looking on longingly. She politely said, “Ms. Decker, if you like any of these, feel free to choose something.”

Nancy scoffed, rolling her eyes disdainfully. “I don’t want any of these! “You people are too wasteful. I can’t stand the hypocrisy of the rich! “Everything you do is extravagant, living in luxury. You don’t understand the struggles of ordinary people, so stop pretending to be so kind!” Kathryn, raised with manners, was stunned by this outburst. She’d never been spoken to like this before, and she didn’t know how to respond. But I was different. I crossed over from another world. “If you don’t like it, then don’t stay in my house! Shameless! “Also, Kathryn only offered you clothes because you look so poorly dressed. What’s so fake about that?!” Nancy sneered at me, “Tch, kindness? Don’t kid yourself. I can’t afford them. “You rich heirs have everything handed to you, high and mighty, never knowing what it’s like to struggle. But we poor people have our dignity!” I thought, “Not know what it’s like to struggle?” I reached into my bag and pulled out a stack of donation certificates, slapping them onto her face. “These are from five years ago, after the floods. I donated a million dollars. “This is from last year’s Luminor earthquake. I donated five million dollars. This one is from a platform’s program to provide supplies for girls in need, I’ve personally donated to over ten thousand girls.” I proceeded to explain each event, showing that my donations weren’t just for show. I thoroughly researched and carefully considered each one before donating based on the specific situation. “Moreover, these funds were all from my own pocket. I worked hard for every penny, and never once asked my parents for a cent.” I stared her down, my voice firm. “And what about you? What have you contributed to the people, to the country?!” Nancy was gradually losing ground, her face shifting in color like a painter’s palette. She pointed at me, her voice faltering. “You… you rich people, it’s easy for you to do surface-level work, acting all fake!” With that, Nancy shot us an angry glare and stormed out of the house.

I rolled my eyes and then turned around with a sweet smile and said, “Kathryn, stay for dinner today! I’ll make you some soup!” Kathryn, looking a little confused, nodded dazedly. “Ah… okay.” I glanced at that damned duck and couldn’t help but show a victorious grin. An hour later… “Lois, I didn’t expect you could cook! This is even better than the three-star Michelin chef at my family’s place. You’re amazing!” Kathryn took a bite and nodded furiously, her eyes sparkling as she looked at me. I looked down in embarrassment and chuckled, “Kathryn, it’s just a simple home-cooked meal. I thought you wouldn’t like it.” We were enjoying the meal when suddenly, the door was kicked open with a loud bang. The sound startled me, and I almost dropped my fork. I glanced at the door frame, wincing in pain. This door was worth millions of dollars! Matthew was at it again, full of that unshakable arrogance! “Kathryn, I’ve put up with everything you’ve done in the past, but this time, you’ve gone too far!” Matthew stormed in with cold eyes, locking them onto Kathryn. I immediately put down my fork and cast an ambiguous glance at Nancy, who was standing behind him. The person I had a conflict with was me, but she went and told Matthew about Kathryn’s situation. How typical! She knew exactly how to pick the easy target.

Noticing the sharp look in my eyes, Nancy hurriedly tugged at Matthew’s shirt and hid behind him with a pitiful look. “Matthew, I didn’t…” Kathryn’s face turned pale as she hurried to explain. Matthew sneered, “I leave for half a day, and you’ve already bullied Nancy like this. Now you’re pretending to be innocent? Nice tricks.” I was immediately accused, and Kathryn’s eyes filled with tears as she helplessly looked at me. Remembering all the glittering luxury items scattered around the house, I quickly spoke up, “Matthew, how do you know it was Kathryn who bullied her?” Matthew furrowed his brows in irritation and replied matter-of-factly, “Nancy told me herself. Can it be wrong? Clearly, Kathryn was using her position to bully her, and Nancy was so scared she cried!” I sneered and quickly pulled up the morning’s surveillance footage on my phone, showing him the evidence. The footage was crystal clear, with multiple angles, and even the voices were perfectly restored. Nancy’s eyes flickered nervously, and she muttered under her breath, “This footage… it has sound?” I thought, “Oh, so she thought she could falsely accuse someone as long as there was no sound, huh?” I exaggeratedly covered my mouth and smiled, giving her a pointed side-eye. “Well, well, well. Didn’t you say our family is rich? But we wouldn’t be so desperate as to use a silent surveillance system, would we?” Seeing Nancy’s face drain of color, I held up the phone again and pushed the screen into Matthew’s face. “See? She started the argument herself and even cried. Ridiculous!” Despite the overwhelming evidence, Matthew still stood in front of Nancy, his expression cold and unyielding. “Nancy’s not good with words. You all were too aggressive, and that’s why she only managed to retort a few times. She’s alone and weak. Why do you have to pick a fight with her?” I thought, “Okay, so all my efforts of digging up surveillance footage and explaining things were pointless, huh?” I glared at him fiercely and decided to throw in the towel. “Right, right, Nancy is the kindest. I apologize. Are you satisfied now?” “Since you know you’re wrong, then…” Matthew didn’t finish his sentence before Nancy screamed, “Lois, where’s my duck?!” She finally noticed! I leaned back in my chair, content, and exaggeratedly burped, gesturing at the pile of bones on the table. Nancy was on the verge of fainting from anger. “It wasn’t for eating! It’s my pet!!” “Oops, sorry. I didn’t mean to. You won’t blame me, will you?” I stood up, sincerely bowed, and innocently blinked my eyes at her. Nancy, however, suddenly buried her face in her hands and collapsed into Matthew’s arms, crying uncontrollably. Matthew’s face, which had just softened, immediately turned as cold as ice. “Lois, I see now that our father has spoiled you too much! You’re capable of anything!” Nancy wiped away her tears, sobbing as she spoke. “I’ve never had parents. My grandparents raised me. This duck has been with me since I was little. It’s like family to me.” She looked at me through tearful eyes, her face drenched in sadness. “Ms. Campbell, I know you dislike me, but why did you have to hurt it? It’s innocent!” After she finished speaking, Matthew looked at her with heartache, then shot me a look filled with hatred as if I had killed a living person instead of just a duck… Before I could say anything, Matthew suddenly took the initiative. “Kathryn, you must have encouraged my sister to do these things. Why are you so evil?” I thought, “What does she have to do with this??” “I will never marry you. So, you can just forget it!” He then picked up the crying Nancy and marched out the door, not giving Kathryn a chance to explain herself. That was the first time I saw Kathryn, who was always so graceful and elegant, appear so lost and distraught.

On the way back from dropping Kathryn off, I couldn’t help but ask, “Kathryn, now that Matthew is treating you like this, do you still want to marry him?” “I… I don’t know,” Kathryn replied, her gaze drifting out the window, her eyes filled with rare confusion. “But if I don’t marry him, who else could I marry?” She whispered this, her voice as soft as a falling feather. “Do you like him?” Kathryn furrowed her brows and slowly shook her head. “Like? Actually, I don’t really know him, so it’s hard to say I like him. But since I was little, everyone around me has told me Matthew is the best person to marry. They say marrying him is the best choice. Even my parents always say so…” I thought, “Here it comes again. I know Matthew isn’t that great! But the male lead halo really is powerful…” Unfortunately, Kathryn didn’t hear my internal complaints and continued on her own path. “From childhood, I’ve never made my parents angry. So I think if I don’t marry Matthew, they’ll be really disappointed in me.” At this point, a fleeting look of pain flashed across her eyes. “You won’t disappoint them.” I quickly grabbed Kathryn’s soft hand, looking at her seriously. “Your looks, your background, both are top-tier. You’re calm, kind, and fluent in eight languages. You even earned your PhD in engineering from Virelia at a young age. “You’re so outstanding, how could they possibly be disappointed in you?” Kathryn paused, her eyes seeming to light up with a spark. “Really? Even if I can’t marry him… it doesn’t matter?” I nodded firmly. “Of course. You’re already an amazing person. Whether you marry someone or not won’t change your own perfection. “If you don’t like him, then call off the engagement. Your parents will surely understand. “So, Kathryn, be brave and follow your heart.”

Kathryn stayed silent for a long time that day and didn’t say anything more as I dropped her off. In the following days, I didn’t see her again. On Monday, I arrived at the office as usual. I was already dreading work, but things were about to get worse. Nancy was standing beside Matthew, wearing the Campbell Group uniform, nervously holding some documents. We ended up taking the same elevator together. I decided to turn a blind eye and ignored both of them. Of course, they didn’t seem to care much about me either. “Mr. Campbell, I don’t understand these materials…” Nancy shook her head, acting distressed, as she looked at the papers in her hands. Matthew let out a deep, amused laugh, replying indulgently, “Well, silly… Come to my office later. I’ll teach you.” In the blink of an eye, they were sticking close to each other like magnets. A tight knot formed in my chest, and I closed my eyes with a pale face… Those few seconds felt more unbearable than a math class. The crisp sound of the elevator arriving at the floor was a small relief. As the elevator slowly opened, I couldn’t wait to rush out, sprinting straight back to my private office at full speed. Sara Hale, my assistant, stood in the hallway, looking bewildered. “Ms. Campbell, there are still five minutes until the workday officially starts. You usually like to live on the edge, barely making it on time.” I propped myself against the door, catching my breath and weakly waving my hand. “It’s not that… I… There was… a ghost behind me.” Sara, confused, turned around to glance behind her. “A ghost… in broad daylight?” When she saw Matthew and Nancy, she immediately clamped her mouth shut, her expression understanding. never underestimated Nancy’s ability to stir up trouble. As expected, she didn’t disappoint me. “Ms. Campbell, Matthew asked me to bring you a cup of coffee… Ah!” Before I could even raise my head, Nancy used her signature move. She tripped, spilling the entire coffee pot all over my desk. If it was just a cup, it wouldn’t have been such a big deal. But Who the hell brings an entire pot of coffee to someone’s desk?! Given the angle of her fall, she managed to splash it evenly. Documents and my computer were all drenched. If I hadn’t ducked, I would’ve ended up taking a coffee bath myself! With a loud thud, Nancy elegantly collapsed onto the floor. Hearing the noise, Matthew rushed in and immediately scooped Nancy up into his arms. “Lois, how dare you hit her?!”

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As the terrifying heatwave approached, my husband Jack took in his female boss. I naively thought they had a purely professional relationship, but I couldn’t have been more wrong. That day, I returned home after scavenging for supplies, only to hear sounds of pleasure coming from the bedroom – my husband and his boss. Enraged, I burst in and started fighting with her, but Jack, his sister Emily, and his mother Martha overpowered me and tied me up. Emily’s rabid dog then mauled me to death. Fearing rabies, they abandoned the idea of keeping me as a food source. Instead, they threw my body outside, where it dried up in the heat, leaving nothing but jerky. When I opened my eyes again, I had returned to two months before the heat apocalypse began. “Why are you home?” Jack asked, his face panicked when he saw me. Oh right, in my previous life, I should have been at work at this time. “I’m just grabbing something,” I replied. “Oh, okay. Be quick then.” Jack’s expression was unnatural. I noticed the sound of running water in the bathroom. “Who’s in there?” As soon as I asked, the water stopped. Rachel opened the bathroom door. “Lily, the shower in my place broke down. I hope you don’t mind me using yours?” Rachel said with a grin. She was Jack’s boss and lived in the apartment above us. I wanted to curse, but I held it in. What was the point of being reborn? It must be for revenge. “We’re neighbors, of course I don’t mind you taking a shower here,” I said with a casual smile. In my previous life, I had thought Rachel and Jack only got together in the safe house. Now I realized these two had been having an affair for a long time. “I forgot to bring a change of clothes. Can I borrow something of yours?” Rachel asked shamelessly. “Sure!” I agreed readily. After putting on my clothes, Rachel came out of the bathroom. “It’s so tight,” she said, twisting her body affectedly. I had given her a T-shirt with a Pikachu print and a pair of casual pants. When she put on the T-shirt, the Pikachu looked like it had gained three sizes. The casual pants looked like they were painted on her. Jack couldn’t take his eyes off the Pikachu, almost drooling. After a moment, he caught himself and quickly turned to ask me, “Are you still building that safe house?” “Yes.” “It’s not like the apocalypse is coming. Don’t waste your energy,” Jack said disapprovingly. “Lily, you’ve been watching too many disaster movies. It’s so cute,” Rachel said with a forced laugh. “I’m sorry you had to see this, Rachel,” Jack sighed. I swallowed my anger and left the apartment. Rachel was divorced with no children, 34 years old, six years older than Jack. She owned several apartments in this complex and was undoubtedly wealthy. In my previous life, when the heat apocalypse came, Jack said Rachel hadn’t prepared any supplies and wanted to take her in. He always talked about how Rachel took care of him at work. I thought we shouldn’t forget kindness, so I agreed. Little did I know that my kindness would lead to my demise. This time, I would make sure this pair of cheaters tasted death too. I arrived at the safe house in Greenville. The workers were drenched in sweat. It was May, but the temperature was already around 104°F and had been for a month. I was a researcher at the Environmental Research Institute and had keenly sensed that the world was heading towards a heat apocalypse, so I started building a safe house. The two-story safe house was almost complete. I took out the design drawings and instructed the workers to build a 4,300 square foot basement underneath. In my previous life, I hadn’t built a basement. “Thank you all for your hard work. The schedule is tight, but I’ll double your pay,” I told the workers. In the apocalypse, money would be worthless anyway. On my way home in the evening, passing by a lottery store, I suddenly remembered the winning numbers from my previous life – 228882+3. These numbers were easy to remember but so unpopular that no one had won the jackpot. I got excited when I saw the total prize pool was over $1.2 billion. To survive the apocalypse, I needed enough supplies, and to buy supplies, I needed money. I entered the store and asked the owner for paper and a pen. I wrote down 100 sets of numbers, including the jackpot numbers, betting $2,000 on each set, for a total of $200,000. The store owner was delighted. “I hope you win,” he said. “Thank you.” The draw was tonight.

When I got home, Jack was in the bathroom washing clothes. He was washing Rachel’s underwear. “Rachel forgot to take her clothes after showering, so I thought I’d help wash them and bring them up to her when they’re dry,” Jack said awkwardly. In the past, I would have had a fight with Jack and taken the underwear to Rachel’s place to curse her out. But I had come back to hunt these cheaters, so I had to control myself. “Rachel is your boss. Washing her clothes and kissing up to her might help you get a promotion and raise,” I said hypocritically. Jack was surprised for a moment, then showed an understanding smile. “Honey, you’re so wise.” After hanging up the underwear, the doorbell rang. Jack went to answer it. It was Rachel, wearing a skimpy spaghetti strap dress, braless and voluptuous. “I’m here for my underwear,” she said coyly. “I washed them and hung them out to dry. I’ll bring them up to you when they’re ready,” Jack replied. “Jack, you’re so thoughtful. By the way, the drain in my kitchen is clogged. Could you help me unclog it?” she asked in a sweet voice. “Sure, I’ll go get my tools,” Jack said, hurrying off to fetch them. Rachel leaned against the door and said to me sourly, “Lily, I’m so envious that you have a husband who can do everything.” I held back the urge to slap her and forced a smile. “Rachel, I’m sure you’ll find your Mr. Right someday.” “We have ride-sharing services and power bank rentals these days. If only we could have husband-sharing too. Haha, I’m just kidding,” she said, putting on airs. Jack came out with his tools. Rachel said, “My drain has been clogged for a while, so it might take some time to fix. Lily, don’t get any wrong ideas, okay?” “Rachel, I’m not that petty. Jack is your subordinate, feel free to use him,” I said with a smile. Jack only had a middle school education. When I met him, he was a water delivery man who often came to the research institute. We got to know each other over time. He pursued me for a year. As an orphan, I longed for a family, and touched by his persistence, I married him. After marriage, I had him quit his job and enrolled him in an adult education program, tutoring him myself. I supported him for two years until he got his associate degree. Then he entered the media company where Rachel worked. Thinking about Jack’s betrayal in my previous life, I gritted my teeth. At 11 PM, I checked the lottery results. 228882+3 was indeed the jackpot winner. With my 200x bet, that meant $1 billion. After 20% tax, it would be $800 million. Jack came home around 1 AM, smelling of shower gel. He had obviously showered at Rachel’s place. He was exhausted and started snoring as soon as he lay down. Apparently, unclogging the drain had taken a lot of effort. At 9 AM, I went to the lottery center and claimed my $800 million prize. With such a large sum of money, I hired another 50 renovation workers and expanded the original 4,300 square foot basement to 8,600 square feet. I went to food factories and bought large quantities of food, to electric machinery factories for imported generators, drills, and other essential equipment for the apocalypse, and to pharmaceutical factories for various medicines. Finally, I went to the country’s top protective equipment research institute, which had been involved in making spacesuits. I ordered 5 sets of high-temperature resistant protective suits according to my specifications, each costing $1 million. As I was leaving, the director said to me meaningfully, “I hope we all live to see the end.”

A month later, Jack’s mother Martha and his sister Emily came to our place. “Lily, are you trying to kill me with salt? Is that what you want, for me to die so you can be happy?” Martha spat out her food and threw her chopsticks at my face. This was the umpteenth time she had found fault with me. The reason for her bullying was that after three years of marriage, I still hadn’t given the family a child. In my previous life, I had thrown my fertility report in Martha’s face, telling her to open her dog eyes and see who really couldn’t have children. At the time, Martha was shocked but still adamantly refused to believe her son couldn’t father children. “I’ll make some new dishes,” I said, pretending to be meek and submissive. Martha and Emily were stunned. How had I become so obedient? After the meal, I mixed some food to feed Emily’s vicious dog. “Buddy, come, dinner time,” I called, suppressing the urge to kill it. Emily was shocked. The dog and I had never gotten along. It would bark furiously whenever it saw me, and I wanted to skin and eat it every time I saw it. After the dog finished eating, I went to pat its head. “Woof woof woof…” It turned on me as soon as it finished eating. I bared my teeth, thinking: Just wait, I’ll kill you soon enough. The temperature rose day by day. Two months later, it reached 118°F. The earth cracked, roads softened, and rivers dried up. Social order broke down. People realized the crisis and started panic buying supplies. Countless people died every day. The residential areas in the city lost water and electricity. The buildings became like giant steamers, roasting people into jerky. I took Jack’s family to live in the safe house. Jack praised me for my foresight, calling me the savior of the family. A week after moving into the safe house. “Lily, I want to discuss something with you,” Jack said. “Go ahead.” “Can we take Rachel in to live with us? She didn’t stock up on food before the heat came, and she’s in a dangerous situation now.” The same scene, the same conversation as in my previous life. The difference was, in my previous life, I had considered it for hours. This time, I agreed readily. Soon, Rachel arrived at the safe house. Just like in my previous life, she hugged Jack tearfully to thank him: “Thank you for taking me in. When this heat is over, I’ll definitely repay you.” I had built the safe house, yet she was thanking Jack. A month passed, and it was the day I had been killed in my previous life. Without the lottery winnings and the basement in my previous life, the stockpiled food only lasted a year. I would go out in a protective suit every few days to search for supplies and check the environment. “Be careful!” Jack said with concern. “Mm-hmm.” I put on the protective suit and left the safe house. Outside the main entrance, what used to be a forest was now a wasteland of sand and rocks. Behind a huge boulder, I brushed away some sand to reveal an alloy steel door. Opening it and going down the stairs led to the basement corridor. I opened the basement’s iron door, turned on the generator and air conditioning, and cool air started flowing. While building the basement, we had discovered an underground river. I used a pump to bring the water up and let it settle in a reservoir. After drinking a spoonful of ice-cold underground water, I felt refreshed. I walked into the warehouse, where the shelves were stacked full of food. I casually took a can of beef and a vacuum-packed crystal duck, then went to the monitoring station. In this life, I had bought several billion dollars worth of food. Without considering spoilage, I could eat for a lifetime. I turned on the monitors, and all the rooms of the safe house appeared on the screen. This time, I had installed hidden cameras in the safe house early on to monitor their every move. I ate my canned beef while watching the screen. Before long, Rachel entered the master bedroom. “I’m so hungry. I want to eat a sausage.” In the apocalypse, food was precious. Their daily food rations were fixed – enough not to starve, but not enough to feel full. I, on the other hand, could eat whatever I wanted in the basement during my “supply runs.” “I have a sausage here for you to eat,” Jack said with a wicked smile. He didn’t know that I was smiling wickedly too. Just as Rachel was eating enthusiastically, I pressed the internal-external circulation ventilation key of the integrated central air conditioning. Immediately, hot air from outside entered the master bedroom. “Why did it suddenly get so hot?” Rachel raised her head in confusion. “I feel it too. It’s so hot,” Jack agreed. They looked up at the air vent on the ceiling. “I can’t take it anymore. It’s too hot,” Rachel said, not even bothering to put on clothes as she rushed to open the bedroom door. The bedroom door was electronic, and I had already remotely locked it. “Why won’t the door open?” she asked in panic. Jack tried to open it too, but couldn’t. I watched the temperature display for the bedroom on the monitoring station: 113°F… 122°F… 125°F… The master bedroom was now like a fiery mountain, with heat waves scorching their skin. “Mom, Emily… save us!” Jack banged on the door, begging for help. “Ah… it hurts so much!” Rachel screamed heart-rendingly.

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On my birthday, my brain tumor flared up, and I lost consciousness. As the doctor worked to save me, he picked up the phone to call my family. My wife answered with irritation, “Really? Are you checking up on me at this age? I’m about to go on a trip to Florence with Declan. Don’t call me unless it’s necessary!” My daughter added, “Good riddance if he dies. The insurance payout can be deposited into my account; my boyfriend wants a new motorcycle.” Oddly enough, hearing this, I felt a sense of relief, as if a weight had been lifted. It’s the right time. Time to leave this cursed world behind. When I opened my eyes again, the doctor handed me the phone with a grave expression. “Mr. Jiang, your brain tumor is pressing on your nerves. You need surgery. Discuss this with your family.” Still disoriented, I loosely held the phone in my hand. In the ER, everyone looked at me with pity, and some family members even turned away to wipe their tears. I glanced at my phone, realizing my wife, Fiona, and my daughter, Phoebe, had blocked me. With no other option, I messaged my rival, Fiona’s first love, Declan: “Please let Fiona know she should come back soon.” To avoid any misunderstanding, I added, “I need to discuss a divorce with Fiona. It’s urgent.” After resting at the hospital and taking the prescribed medication, I returned home. When I arrived, Fiona was already seated on the sofa. She wore oversized sunglasses, a large sun hat, and a bohemian floral dress, clearly ready for vacation. Upon seeing me, she snorted, removing her sunglasses and tossing them onto the table. “What do you want now? Declan and I were at the airport when you called us back. You’re such a nuisance, no wonder Phoebe finds you annoying!” At forty-five, Fiona had fine lines around her eyes, but she maintained her skin well. Her wavy hair and red lipstick made her appear youthful. Declan stood behind her, massaging her shoulders and whispering affectionately in her ear, “Don’t be mad, Fiona. Let’s hear what Asher has to say. Maybe it’s really urgent.” Declan had maintained a refined appearance over the years with beauty treatments, although his expression was a bit stiff. I drifted off, remembering my daughter’s third birthday when Fiona first forgot her cake because Declan had returned from abroad. She was distracted. Later, when I picked up a drunken Fiona, I overheard her conversation with a friend, realizing I was just a stand-in. Now, my temples had turned gray, and wrinkles lined my eyes and mouth, making me look nothing like Declan. Snapping back to reality, I pulled out the divorce papers and handed them to Fiona. ” Fiona, let’s divorce.” Fiona, who had been enjoying Declan’s massage, suddenly opened her eyes, startled. Frowning, she snapped, “First, you pretended to be sick at the hospital. Now you’re talking about divorce. Asher, you’re almost fifty! What are you doing?” Her accusations didn’t stir me. Yes, almost fifty. Today is my forty-ninth birthday. If Fiona went into the kitchen, she’d see the half-prepped ingredients of her and our daughter’s favorite dishes. But when I collapsed while washing vegetables, there wasn’t a single family member by my side in our vast home. No need to voice these grievances. Saying them would only make Fiona feel I’m being dramatic. A dying person speaks kindly. I had no intention of arguing; I just smiled, “Nothing much. I just realized it’s best not to delay you and Declan any longer.” “Last month, when you went to the Arctic to see the aurora with Declan, you might not know my mom was buried.” “My dad drowned saving you, and my mom forced you to marry me out of gratitude. I know it was unfair to you, and you’ve always longed for Declan.” “I’ve worked diligently at your company for years, even helping it go public. That should count as some compensation.” “Now that my mom’s gone, you don’t have to worry about her causing any more trouble at the company.” After saying a long piece, I paused and wished, “In the future, I won’t bother you anymore. It’s been over ten years. You and Declan should be together. Give him a title.” Letting out words I’ve held in my heart, I felt relieved. Maybe it was fear of being abandoned by Declan again, or the need to stabilize the company stock. Fiona gave Declan everything but never mentioned marriage. Now, I, an outsider, was willing to complete them. Fiona suddenly crumpled the divorce papers, her voice tight, “I’ve endured you for over twenty years. What about Phoebe?” My daughter’s words, “Good riddance if he dies,” still echoed in my ears. I smiled faintly, nodding at Declan, “It’s fine. She doesn’t like me. She prefers Declan. Let him take care of her.” When our daughter was young, Fiona often had Declan help with her, trying to build a good impression. Now, I was fulfilling her wish. But her face showed displeasure, biting her lip hard. Her chest heaved, eyes glaring at me, trying to find anger or jealousy. But this time, she only saw indifference. She moved her red lips, took a deep breath, and said, “Fine, divorce, but you leave with nothing!” She looked at me confidently, expecting me to back down at the thought of leaving with nothing. After all, she often insulted me, calling me and my mom gold-diggers, only after her money. She despised me for exploiting a life-saving favor. But I just nodded. “No, I don’t want the money, the house, or the daughter.”

Before Fiona could speak, Declan started laughing, agreeing, “Asher, didn’t expect you to be so magnanimous now. Thanks for taking care of Fiona for so long. Don’t worry, I’ll take good care of Fiona and your daughter!” Fiona seemed not to hear, tightly gripping the pen, suddenly accusing, “After twenty years, why are you doing this? After the divorce, do you think I’ll let you stay at the company? A fifty-year-old man, who would hire you? At least now, as my husband in name, we can provide for you in old age.” Her barrage of questions didn’t ripple my emotions. I just laughed at myself. Yes, our daughter is old enough to marry. Why am I still struggling? I once used all my points to exchange with the system to live in this world for a lifetime. The system warned me it had other hosts to attend to, and I wouldn’t have a place to cry if I regretted it. At the time, holding my beloved wife and newborn daughter, I was filled with happiness, promising that day would never come. But after Declan appeared, my life changed completely. All my happiness was just an illusion. I considered divorcing Fiona, but our daughter clung to my leg, crying not to separate her parents. My mom said I was ungrateful, not realizing my blessings. As long as Fiona and I were on the same household registration, even if Declan turned the world upside down, it wouldn’t affect my inheritance rights. But I still felt oppressed, frustrated. Unhappy. This brain tumor incident made me grateful for their coldness, finally deciding to leave. Returning to the present, I said calmly, ” Fiona, my future has nothing to do with you. Are you concerned now?” I knew Fiona hated my self-pity the most. Sure enough, she looked at me like she’d swallowed a fly, quickly signing, “Asher, you better not regret it. If you make a scene at the company, I won’t let you back!” With that, she left with Declan, her heels clicking on the floor. The room returned to silence. I sat on the sofa, looking at the home I’d lived in for twenty-one years. Every piece of furniture seemed etched in my mind. Yet I felt like an outsider. After a while, hunger brought me back to reality. I went to the kitchen and threw away the beef, lamb, and salmon I had been preparing. Then I cooked myself some plain noodles. The noodles tasted of faint salt and oil. I remembered when I first got together with Fiona. She was a pampered heiress, yet she tried making noodles for me, covered in flour, hands burnt by boiling water. But she didn’t care about her injuries, smiling, urging me to eat longevity noodles for a long and peaceful life. After some time, my stomach’s hunger snapped me back to reality. I headed to the kitchen, where I threw away the half-prepared beef brisket, lamb, and salmon. Then, I made myself some simple noodles. They had just a hint of oil and salt. I remembered when I first started dating Fiona. Despite being an heiress who never touched a stove, she learned to make noodles for me. Her germaphobia didn’t stop her from getting covered in flour, and she even scalded her hand with boiling water. But she wasn’t concerned about her injury. Smiling, she urged me to eat the noodles, wishing me a long and peaceful life. To be honest, those noodles were cut too thick, undercooked, and seasoned so salty it could overwhelm even a salt seller. Yet, I ate every last bite. I once thought Fiona was my everything, someone I’d never forget. But now, her youthful face is becoming a distant memory. A sudden sharp pain shot through my head. Shakily, I took the blood pressure and pain relief pills prescribed by the doctor. Once the pain subsided, I washed the dishes, dried my hands, and started packing my belongings. There wasn’t much to pack; most of the items at home belonged to Fiona and her daughter, so I was done quickly. I stood up, looked around, and found the treasure chest I’d hidden in the closet for years. Inside were things I once cherished: ticket stubs, photos of us, our wedding pictures. Love letters Fiona wrote me, the tie clip she gave me, and other gifts. Photos of our daughter, from childhood to now, her drawings and writings. I had carefully sealed many in plastic. But now, I carried the chest to the backyard, placing it on the firepit where Fiona and Declan hosted their bonfire parties. Without hesitation, I took out a lighter and set the contents of the treasure chest ablaze. The flames reflected on my face, but suddenly, it began to rain, extinguishing the fire instantly. Under the eaves, I glanced at the treasure chest, now blackened with only ashes inside. I didn’t bother checking further. After this, I deleted all my online accounts and contact information. I had always been a drifter without roots, and now, I wanted to disappear entirely from Fiona and her daughter’s world. Since I decided to leave, I wanted to finish everything properly. After packing, I drove to the company, handed over my work to my subordinate, and cleared out my office. There was truly nothing left for me to do. Everyone at the company thought I was retiring, looking at me enviously, saying: “Mr. Asher, you’re the second-in-command of our company and retiring so early. Mrs. Fiona must really care about you. We’re so envious!” “Well, if I had a wife and kids at home, I’d retire early and enjoy life too!” I held the documents from my office and kept silent. Over the years, Fiona was secretly close with Declan, rarely home. But on the surface, to maintain a stable image for the stock market, she portrayed us as a loving couple, often attending auctions, buying luxury cars and houses, claiming to choose gifts for her husband. Everyone envied me, saying I was lucky to marry Fiona. Only I knew all the gifts were invariably sent to Declan. And I had to smile and say I was frugal, not wanting to flaunt wealth. Back to the present, the HR manager saw me moving out of my office without surprise, even immediately bringing in the latest computer to my former office. Everyone was stunned and asked: “Manager, Mr. Asher is retiring, why are you redecorating his office?” The HR manager glanced at me, cleared his throat, and said seriously: “Mrs. Fiona has a new appointee for management. I hope everyone will be cautious and avoid gossip during work hours.” As he spoke, he placed a nameplate on the desk, which read: “Vice President, Declan.” Those present were shocked, but I just smirked at myself. Over the years, I had always used the company’s worst equipment. Despite numerous upgrades, Fiona repeatedly declined my requests for replacements, frowning and calling me vain. But for Declan, she offered everything she could, never settling for less. In the past, I might have been angry or sad at such favoritism. But now, I couldn’t get angry anymore. I just sighed. Fiona was truly eager to elevate Declan; this was true love. Coming back to my senses, I nodded and turned to leave the company where I had worked my whole life. Later, I went to a funeral shop to buy my own burial clothes. Even if I were to die, I wanted to look decent. But I didn’t have much money left. Most of it went to the undertaker to ensure my burial, so I could only afford the cheapest set. Holding the burial clothes, I walked out of the shop when a rebellious youngster on a motorcycle zoomed past me, the exhaust making me cough. A few seconds later, the motorcycle came back. A girl wearing smoky makeup and a tank top jumped off the back, speaking sarcastically: “Oh, aren’t you still alive? Give me $10,000. I need to buy my boyfriend a new motorcycle!” I just frowned and said coldly: “I don’t have money, Phoebe.” “You don’t have money? You’re lying. My mom’s so generous; she’d definitely give you money.” Phoebe didn’t believe it, her face full of disdain. Who would believe a rich heir like me lived so frugally? Fiona claimed I was after her wealth, so my salary went directly to her account. Every expense needed her approval. Even if I wanted to buy a pack of cigarettes, she allowed me only $5 packs. I could only do side jobs to support the household. After being diagnosed with a brain tumor, I asked Fiona for money with the medical report. She frowned, yelled that I was scamming her, wanting $10,000 as if her money grew on trees. She locked me at home to reflect, while she took Declan to the Arctic to see the Northern Lights. Locked at home, I missed seeing my gravely ill mother one last time. Relatives told me my mom died with tears, blaming me for being a selfish son with a selfish wife. I shivered at the thought, coming back to reality. Phoebe smirked, as if she had me cornered, and said: “Fine, if you won’t, I’ll ask Uncle Declan. He’s handsome and rich, a hundred times better than you!” I looked at my eighteen-year-old daughter. How did my once well-behaved child turn into this? Since Declan returned to the country, Fiona rarely came home, leaving me to raise our daughter alone. She was sensible, siding with me, often cold to Fiona and Declan. But at seventeen, Phoebe fell for a delinquent and became rebellious, quitting school and constantly asking me for money, even threatening me with supporting Declan as her stepfather. I was exhausted, trying to persuade her to stay away from that delinquent. But his gang beat me up. I was old, taking punches while my once loving daughter cheered them on, telling the old man to learn a lesson. After that, my heart grew cold, and I stopped caring for her. Later, while recovering for a month, Phoebe apologized, wanting to celebrate my birthday with me all day. I waited all day and only saw Declan’s post on social media. In the video, she smiled sweetly at Declan during a dinner party. “Stepdad, wish you and mom a fun time in Florence.” She then took the big red envelope from Declan with a smile. Seeing this social media post, I was washing vegetables when my mind went blank, and I collapsed. Now, facing the child I raised, I felt no emotional stir. I just said calmly: “Fine, ask him for money.” “By the way, your mom and I divorced. Now you can openly call Declan your dad. ‘Stepdad’ sounds so awkward.” 4 Phoebe looked at me, shocked, fiddling with her clothes, her face flushing: “How do you know? It’s all your fault for being so stingy. I had to go to him for money. He understands love!” She eyed me, mocking: “Divorce my mom? You think I’ll believe that? Stop pretending!” Her gaze fell on the clothes in my hand, puzzled: “What are you holding? It looks ugly, clothes?” Her delinquent boyfriend draped an arm around her shoulder, cigarette in hand, and said through smoke: “Aren’t those burial clothes? Did someone in your family die?” Phoebe stepped forward, trying to grab the package from me to take a closer look. “I want to see what you’re up to!” I frowned, casually pushing her away. Suddenly, she gave me a once-over and scoffed: “Divorce my mom? Do you really think I’d buy that? Stop pretending!” She noticed the clothes in my hand and asked, puzzled: “What are those? They look awful. Are they clothes?” A guy with dyed yellow hair rested a hand on Phoebe’s shoulder, holding a cigarette in the other, a cloud of smoke surrounding him. He sneered: “Aren’t those funeral clothes? Did someone in your family die?” Phoebe immediately stepped forward, trying to grab the bag of clothes from me for a closer look. “I want to see what you’re up to!” I frowned and pushed her away. The next moment, she fell to the ground, unprepared, and a card slipped out of her pocket. I picked it up—it was an ID card. The photo was hers, but the name read “Theo.” Suddenly, a severe headache hit me. When Fiona gave birth to Phoebe, she had a massive hemorrhage, and out of heartbreak, I decided Phoebe should take her mother’s surname. Later, as Fiona and I drifted apart, Phoebe mentioned several times that she wanted to take my surname, Johnson, and cut ties with her troublesome mom. But I never expected she’d start using Theo’s surname without telling me. I held my head as everything went dark, like a light had been switched off. The doctor had warned that in the later stages of a brain tumor, it could invade the nerves, causing blindness, memory loss, and even decreased intelligence. What a mess I am now. I squeezed my eyes shut and when I opened them again, I could faintly make out some details. In front of me, Phoebe hastily snatched the ID card from my hand and stuffed it back into her pocket, babbling: “Don’t be angry. I just felt sorry for Uncle Theo. He’s so old and childless. It’s just a surname change. I’m still your daughter. Isn’t it nice to have two dads who love me?” Seeing my displeased expression, she looked at me suspiciously, wrinkling her nose with a touch of disdain: “What’s wrong with you now? Are you pretending your eyes are bad again? No wonder my mom doesn’t like you—acting like a child to get attention.” I shook my head and pushed her aside. She seemed to have more to say but ultimately didn’t follow. After walking away, my overheated mind finally cleared a bit, and with the bus ticket I had bought, I returned to my old home. It’s not far, just in the suburbs. The house is an old apartment building. Back then, my dad saved Fiona from drowning, and in gratitude, she took our family in. I hadn’t been back in a long time. Now, the house was covered in dust. I cleaned the bed, closed all doors and windows, trapping all the air inside. Then, I turned on the gas tank I had someone bring over earlier. Instantly, the air filled with a strange smell. But I calmly changed into the burial clothes and lay in bed, ensuring the undertaker could find me immediately upon arrival. Just then, my phone rang. It was Fiona. I didn’t want to answer, but I subconsciously picked up. On the other end, her voice was impatient, urging: “Asher, where are you? There’s a dinner tonight you need to attend. Get ready in half an hour.” I replied calmly: “I can’t go. I’m about to die.” There was a loud crash from her end, like something had fallen and shattered. Her voice turned sharp and angry: “Asher, what’s wrong with you, saying such unlucky things!” Before I could speak, Theo’s voice came from her end, adding fuel to the fire: “Asher, are you really so broken by your divorce from Fiona that you can’t go on living? Maybe you two should get back together. I don’t mind; I can always be there for Fiona.” Classic manipulation. Too bad Fiona couldn’t see through it. As expected, Fiona got even angrier: “Asher, don’t act like you’re in charge! If it weren’t for the boss specifically asking for you, do you think I’d bother calling you?” “Fine, come if you want. Don’t come home, and don’t expect to see your daughter again!” As Fiona hung up, my grip loosened from carbon monoxide poisoning, and the phone fell to the ground. I don’t know how long passed, maybe just a few seconds, but it felt like a lifetime. My body, weakened from lack of oxygen, was still conscious enough to feel life slipping away, my face turning purple. Enough, I told myself. Soon my consciousness would retreat into space. Death, in the cool summer night, was exceptionally quiet. I seemed to hear the faint hissing of the gas tank. Thankfully, I arranged for someone to take care of my body. Otherwise, in a place like this, I’d turn to bones without anyone knowing. But then, the door was kicked open, and an uninvited guest barged in.

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On our wedding anniversary, my husband invited Cora to our home for a rendezvous. They stayed together until late into the night. Cora caught a cold, but my husband redirected his frustration at me. He locked me out on the balcony all night and then shoved me into the freezer as if to punish me. I was trapped for three full days. After I died, my soul drifted away from my body. I watched Cora place my corpse into boiling water until it was beyond recognition. Then, she had the crematorium staff take me away to an abandoned factory. When my husband saw my pitiful state, he called Cora to remind her to stay safe. A colleague reminded him not to forget about me. He sneered, “Cora is delicate, so of course I should care for her. As for Adeline, she’s too tough to die so easily.” But he had no idea that the decayed body in front of him was mine. As a top mortician, he couldn’t even recognize my face. 0 Cora was the one who sent me to the crematorium. Before they took me in, she looked at my disfigured body and sneered, “Adeline, since you love Asher so much, I’ll let him send you off.” So, after my death, I saw Asher for the first time. He frowned at my body and then took out his phone to call Cora. “Cora, I’ve received a highly decomposed body here, so I’ll be home late. Also, with all these homicide cases lately, make sure to lock the doors and windows. Don’t go out at night.” His tone was tender and affectionate. Sadly, in five years of marriage, I never experienced that. On the other end, Cora responded coyly. “Come back soon, I’ll be worried about you.” They exchanged a few more words, and before hanging up, Cora hinted, “Asher, you’ll make sure today’s client looks beautiful, won’t you?” She meant something deeper, but unfortunately, Asher didn’t catch on. After all, in his heart, Cora was the delicate flower needing protection. But it was this delicate flower who, after my death, placed my body into boiling water until I was unrecognizable before bringing me here. Seven days ago was my fifth wedding anniversary with Asher. I prepared a candlelight dinner at home, waiting for Asher to return. Instead, he came back with Cora. Seeing my mood drop, he impatiently scolded, “Cora just came back from abroad all alone. Can’t you be a bit more understanding?” But wasn’t she alone abroad too? Before I could say anything, Asher pushed me onto the balcony. Maybe he was afraid I’d interrupt them, so he locked the door from the inside. The candlelight dinner I prepared became their feast. I froze on the balcony all night. The next day, Cora claimed she caught a cold. Unusually, Asher got angry at me, which ultimately led to my demise. While Asher and I argued, Cora pressed against his arm, trying to mediate, “Asher, Adeline surely didn’t mean it. It’s all my fault for being so delicate.” I was furious at Cora’s behavior and pointed to the door, telling her to leave. Asher, however, was enraged. He dragged me by the hair to the freezer and shoved me in. Before the light faded, the last thing I heard him say was, “Adeline, you’re worthless. Just cool off in there.” I struggled inside, banging and shouting. But the freezer door wouldn’t open from the inside. I begged until my fingers bled, but Asher never let me out. I died from suffocation and cold. Afterward, Cora soaked me in boiling water, leaving me unrecognizable. It wasn’t until today that she sent me to the crematorium. 0

After calling Cora, Asher’s colleague Gideon teased, “Asher, you’re so concerned about your first love. Doesn’t your wife mind?” Asher walked over to my body and replied, “Cora is delicate. Of course, I care about her. As for Adeline, she’s too tough to die easily.” Hearing that, my heart ached. I wondered how Asher would feel once he realized the decayed body lying before him was the same Adeline he thought was too tough to die. All I knew was that I felt deeply hurt. I had loved Asher for so many years, yet in his heart, I couldn’t even compare to a single word from Cora. After the preparations were done, Asher and Gideon stood solemnly by my body and bowed deeply. It was the first time I saw Asher at work, and the first time I realized he was gentler with corpses than he ever was with me. I had deceived myself into thinking he was just naturally cold. Turns out it was just because he didn’t love me. I felt so unwilling! But Asher was already absorbed in his work. Even when Gideon couldn’t stand the smell and stepped out for air, Asher didn’t stop. Soon, he restored my legs, body, and arms. When only my head was left, Asher took a deep breath and stood up to stretch his stiff muscles. He leaned against the hallway wall, lost in thought. Gideon asked, “Got to you?” Asher didn’t answer. As he put on his mask to return to work, he said, “Just seems a little tragic.” For someone who sees corpses daily to find my situation tragic, I chuckled, anticipating his next reaction. Asher meticulously filled, pressed, and reshaped. My face slowly took form. His skills were truly impressive. My face, once unrecognizable, began to resemble its former self. When he finished, Asher examined my face closely. After a moment, he turned to Gideon, “Doesn’t this face look familiar to you?” Gideon glanced over and exclaimed, “You know, it does look a bit like…” He stopped mid-sentence, staring at Asher, “Don’t get mad, but it looks a bit like… like your wife.” 0

After he spoke, he watched Asher intently, but Asher just frowned and stood up. “Must be a coincidence. Adeline’s worthless. Who would go to such lengths to kill her?” Gideon couldn’t respond, so he agreed, “It must be a coincidence. Your wife hardly ever leaves the house. How could anything happen to her?” They covered my body with a white cloth and called for it to be taken for cremation. Perhaps the resemblance disturbed Asher. After my body left, he followed shortly after. Several times, his car almost hit the guardrail. Eventually, he pulled over and called Cora. “Cora, Adeline… she’s at home, right?” Cora pretended to be jealous, huffing, “Why do you always ask about Adeline? You afraid I’ll eat her or something?” As Asher anxiously explained, she laughed, “I’m just teasing. Adeline’s your wife. You’re supposed to care about her. Why would I be jealous?” “Don’t worry, she was with me just now. She’s probably out shopping.” Cora lied effortlessly. Trusting her completely, Asher was reassured. After a few sweet words, he hung up and headed to the mall. Watching him walk, I recalled wanting that unique ring before our wedding. Asher berated me in public. “It’s just a gimmick meant to fool idiots like you.” The salesperson’s expression was unpleasant, and I felt humiliated under their gazes, like a cold splash of water on a chilly spring day. That was my first hint that I might just be a substitute for Cora. Asher didn’t love me. But I loved him from the moment he stood in front of me. So I swallowed my pride, smoothed things over, and bought a simple wedding band. Why was he here now? Was he finally feeling guilty after my death? Trying to make amends this way? I followed Asher to the store. Maybe it left a strong impression, because the clerk remembered him. “Mr. Asher, are you picking a gift for your wife?” 0

Asher didn’t deny it. But when the clerk showed him the latest styles, he suddenly said, “I want that ring you can only buy once.” The clerk seemed genuinely happy for me. She handed Asher that ring and said, “Your wife wanted this last time. She’ll be thrilled to receive it.” “By the way, Mr. Asher, we can engrave the ring. Would you like that?” My heart pounded. Though Asher caused my death, I had loved him for so long. I needed to know if he had even the slightest affection for me, just a tiny bit. “Engrave Cola.” When Asher’s words came, my heart shattered completely. The clerk thought it was my initials and cheerfully went to engrave it. Asher waited with an indifferent expression. But I was truly dead. My body and heart were gone. Yet for some reason, I was still bound to Asher, unable to leave. How cruel of fate, to have me killed by them, then watch their love unfold even in death. Is this my punishment for being blind and giving my heart to the wrong person? As soon as Asher spoke, my heart, which had been anxiously suspended, shattered into pieces. The shop assistant mistakenly thought it was my name and eagerly went to have it engraved. Meanwhile, Asher waited with a detached demeanor. I was the only one truly gone—my life ended, and my spirit crushed. Yet, inexplicably, I remained bound to Asher, unable to leave. How cruel the universe is, to let me be harmed by them, and even in death, force me to witness their affection. Is this my punishment for misplacing my trust and heart in the wrong person? After the engraving was done, Asher casually picked up a necklace, paid, and left. When we returned home, Cora feigned worry, “Asher, Adeline still hasn’t come back. Do you think something might have happened?” Perhaps surprised I wasn’t home, Asher paused momentarily before relaxing. “She’s probably just being stubborn. Don’t worry about her. She has no family here; she’ll come back eventually.” I was shocked by Asher’s words. Only now did I realize my journey for love, crossing mountains and seas, was just a gamble to him, certain I wouldn’t leave. No wonder! No wonder he dared to openly bring Cora home, convinced that I couldn’t survive without him. Cora blamed herself, “I shouldn’t have come here. Otherwise, Adeline wouldn’t be upset, affecting your relationship.” Her self-reproachful expression made Asher feel incredibly tender towards her, comforting her with an arm around her shoulders, “It’s not your fault. I never had feelings for her. I only married her because she seemed suitable for daily life.” Cora wanted to continue, but Asher cut her off. “Let’s not talk about these unlucky things. I got you a birthday gift. Come see if you like it?” Asher spoke as if I were the misfortune, completely forgetting that Cora had broken up with him initially because she despised his job. I couldn’t help but laugh at myself, watching as Cora easily got the ring I had desperately desired. When she put it on, it was a bit tight, and her touched expression froze. “Asher, did you get the wrong size? This isn’t my size?” Asher felt a bit frustrated. The shop assistant assumed the ring was for me and used my size. Asher, concerned about his pride, couldn’t admit it was for someone else. He had to swallow this bitter pill. Their unhappiness lightened the weight in my chest. Even in death, Asher was my unresolved issue. In the end, to maintain appearances, Cora placed the ring, meant for her ring finger, on her pinky and forced a smile, “Maybe I’ve gained weight recently. A different finger works.” Their awkwardness dissipated. To make it up to her, Asher went to the kitchen to cook, while Cora stormed into the room and stomped on the newly bought ring, her face dark. “Adeline, you bothered me alive, and now in death, you won’t let me be. Didn’t you care most about Asher? I’ll show you how he becomes mine.” I saw her take out a small bottle from a locked drawer, piecing together her words… A sense of foreboding arose. “Cora, dinner’s ready!” Asher’s voice called out, and Cora, clutching the bottle, went to the living room. “Asher, I have some fine wine. Let’s have a drink.” She suggested gently, and Asher suspected nothing, continuing to bring dishes to the table. I saw Cora pour the contents of the bottle into the wine behind his back. As they drank, their figures became suggestive. After a few sips, Asher’s eyes turned hazy, and he kept murmuring, “Cora… Cora…” They say you speak the truth when drunk. Asher really never had me in his heart. The next moment, Cora coaxed him into our room, half-undressed on the wedding bed I had chosen. I closed my eyes, not wanting to see, but the sounds still reached my ears. My hatred reached its peak. I hated the injustice of fate, hated Asher’s heartlessness, hated Cora’s malice, and hated myself more for being unable to avenge myself. I curled up in the living room, head buried, when suddenly there was a knock at the door late at night. Asher opened the door, and the person outside said with a sorrowful expression, “Professor Asher, my condolences.” Before he could speak, they handed him an urn and a peace amulet necklace. It was the one I had spent a month’s salary on to get for Asher when he first started his job. Because of Cora’s one remark about it being ugly, he had thrown it away, and I had later picked it up again. “We found this among the deceased’s belongings yesterday. I remember Adeline treasured it. Professor Asher, is this right?”

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Upon hearing the news that his beloved Fiona had passed away, my husband, who was on a honeymoon with me, dramatically leapt off the cruise ship, ending his life. It was only then I realized he had never truly moved on from Fiona. Transported back to my teenage years, he decisively let go of my hand and walked towards his cherished Fiona. I watched them leave and turned away. From that moment on, our lives became parallel lines destined never to meet. A decade later, we crossed paths again at a high-profile event in Ocean City. He had become a rising star among the elite, with Fiona affectionately on his arm. When he saw me mistakenly enter the event, he couldn’t help but advise me. “Stop holding onto the past. Even if you wait for me for another ten years, I still won’t love you.” I ignored him and retrieved my cake-eating son from the corner. His eyes suddenly reddened, and he grabbed my hand tightly. “Are you trying to provoke me on purpose? Didn’t you once say you’d love me for a lifetime?”

I never imagined I would encounter Gideon again in this lifetime. At the elite gathering in Ocean City, he stood among the crowd with Fiona, exuding charm and sophistication, showing no trace of his former youthful awkwardness. People around him were all smiles, speaking in flattering tones. “Young Master Gideon is truly promising, securing a major project at such a young age!” “Is this your beloved? You both make such a striking couple.” Fiona gazed at Gideon with deep affection and said softly. “We’re planning to get married by the end of the year. If you have the time, we’d love for you to join us.” There was another round of congratulations, and someone asked. “I heard you’ve been together for ten years. Why wait until now to get married?” This was something I was curious about too. In the previous life, Gideon loved Fiona so much he was willing to die for her. After being given a second chance, he immediately broke up with me. I assumed they would marry right after graduation, but they haven’t even registered yet. Upon hearing this, Gideon’s face momentarily stiffened, but he quickly masked it with a smile. “You need a career before family. I want to give Fiona the best life possible.” He looked at Fiona, his eyes filled with tenderness nearly overflowing. In the past, when we were together, I asked him many times when we could get married. It wasn’t until his family pressured him that Gideon reluctantly agreed to be with me. It turns out, the difference between love and lack of it can be so obvious. I was about to turn and leave when I noticed a small figure and instinctively followed. “Oops!” Champagne spilled everywhere, and the waiter holding a tray looked at me with discontent. “Where did you come from? Are you blind?” His voice was loud, drawing attention from those around us. Seeing my face, Gideon was stunned. “Adeline, why are you here?” I lowered my head to apologize to the waiter and explained. “I’m here looking for someone.” Someone curiously asked Gideon. “Do you know her, Young Master Gideon?” Gideon tightened his grip on his wine glass, his gaze darkening. “Yeah, just an ex-girlfriend.” Someone nearby blurted out, “You’ve been together for ten years; I thought you were each other’s first love.” The smile on Fiona’s face faded slightly as she held Gideon’s hand and said nonchalantly. “We were young back then, separated for a bit during a fight. Who hasn’t taken a wrong turn in their youth?” Gideon said nothing, his gaze brushing past me to the waiter. “Charge the damage to my account and let her go.” He stood there, expression calm, not sparing me an extra glance aside from the initial encounter. It seemed he was eager to draw a clear line between us in front of Fiona. The waiter quickly ushered me out. “Young Master Gideon is being kind, cleaning up your mess, but there won’t be a next time.” He glanced disdainfully at my wrinkled pajamas. “This isn’t a place for you. Hurry up and leave.” I broke free from his grip and explained politely. “I’m here to find someone. Once I do, I’ll leave on my own.” The waiter sneered, rolling his eyes. “I’ve seen plenty like you trying to climb up. Do you even have the qualifications to be here? If you keep lingering, I’ll call security!” “Wait.” Gideon’s voice came from behind him. He sighed as he looked at me, helplessly. “She’s here to find me. Let me talk to her.” Fiona, standing beside him, asserted her dominance by wrapping her arms around his shoulder. “Adeline, Gideon and I are about to get married. Anyone with a bit of self-respect wouldn’t come looking for an ex at this point.” Gideon’s face darkened slightly, and he couldn’t help but advise me. “Stop holding onto the past. Even if you wait for me for another ten years, I won’t love you.” “When I was with you, it was a mistake. Now that I have the chance to correct it, I hope you can let go of the past soon.” Fiona looked me up and down, a mocking glint in her eyes. “I understand why you would seek out Gideon. After all, he’s a renowned entrepreneur now, and there’s no shortage of people trying to cozy up to him.” Perhaps my wrinkled pajamas gave her confidence, Fiona added arrogantly. “You’re a prestigious university graduate, yet you’ve ended up like this? If I were you, I wouldn’t even show my face!” Gideon frowned, pulling out his phone, his tone growing impatient. “If you feel like you were wronged by our breakup, I can compensate you now.” “Is five hundred thousand enough?” His fingers moved over the screen, then suddenly froze. “You deleted me from your contacts?”

I was puzzled, not understanding why he reacted so strongly. Isn’t it normal to delete an ex’s contact after a breakup? Besides, I have someone at home who’s particularly jealous. If he knew I still had my ex’s contact, he’d probably make a fuss. “Didn’t you say you hoped I wouldn’t come looking for you after our breakup?” Gideon’s face turned cold, as if he wanted to say something but held back. I spoke calmly, adding. “I don’t need the breakup compensation.” After facing setback after setback, Gideon’s face darkened further, and he spoke coldly. “What are you pretending for? If it weren’t for your current misfortune, I wouldn’t even bother talking to you.” Fiona quickly soothed him with a gentle voice. “Well, she is a prestigious university graduate. Given her current miserable state, let’s just consider helping her.” “Oh Fiona, you’re still so kind. Why bother with a woman like her? Look at her pathetic state, just get lost.” His tone was disdainful, as if forgetting that ten years ago, he was in a worse state than I was. In the previous life, Gideon’s family didn’t agree with their son being with Fiona because she was a dubious woman who liked shortcuts. The first time I saw Gideon in college, he had just picked Fiona up from a club, forced by his family to break up. During Gideon’s most depressed times, I stayed by his side, helping him through. He loved photography, so I used the money I planned to start a business to buy him expensive equipment. Through freezing winters and scorching summers, I, with my frail frame, carried dozens of pounds of gear following him, just hoping to see him smile sincerely. Who would’ve thought it was Gideon who confessed to me first? I knew about his past with Fiona and had seen him occasionally stare at their photos in a daze. So when Gideon confessed, I seriously asked him. Have you truly moved on from Fiona? At that time, he held me tightly, his tone firm. “Actually, I never loved her. I just saw her as a good friend. It’s you I love, Adeline; let’s be together.” We dated for seven years, even his friends were surprised. “He liked Fiona so much, I thought you two wouldn’t last.” But no one knew, Gideon repeatedly refused to answer my prompts about marriage. “Adeline, I’m against marriage. Can’t we just be like this forever?” Until later, when Gideon’s parents pressured him about marriage, he agreed to marry. During our honeymoon, after hearing about Fiona’s car accident, he jumped off the cruise ship, leaving only a note. The note was filled with love for Fiona, not a single word for me. At the end, he wrote in blood. “Fiona, you’re the only one I want to love in this life. Now, I’m coming for you.” My love for him turned to ashes at that moment. So, after being given a second chance, when Gideon wanted to break up, I didn’t stop him. Because I knew, I couldn’t stop it. Watching them get back together, I deleted all of Gideon’s contact information, thinking there’d be no chance to meet again in this life. But I didn’t expect to encounter them here. I wanted to leave, but Fiona wouldn’t let it go, insisting on humiliating me in front of everyone. “Do you even deserve to speak to me? Look at how you’re dressed, it’s embarrassing!” “Here’s the deal, I’ll introduce you to work as a waiter here. If you learn to serve people, you can earn a five-figure salary a month.” Someone trying to curry favor with her added with a grin. “This is a hotel in the prime location of Ocean City. Working here is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity for you. You should thank Miss Fiona.” Surrounded by people, I couldn’t leave, so I replied helplessly. “Thank you, but I already have a job.” “As a photographer.” I wanted to leave, but Fiona was relentless, determined to humiliate me in front of everyone. “Do you think you’re even worthy of talking to me? Look at what you’re wearing—it’s such an embarrassment!” “Here’s an idea: I can get you a job here as a waiter. If you learn to serve people, you could earn a five-figure salary.” Someone nearby, eager to curry favor with her, chimed in with a smile. “This hotel is in a prime Ocean City location. Working here is a rare opportunity for you. You should thank Miss Fiona.” Surrounded and unable to move, I reluctantly replied, “Thank you, but I already have a job.” “Photography.” As soon as I mentioned photography, Gideon glanced at me with a complex expression, his lips twitching slightly. He averted his gaze, his tone indifferent. “How much can you really earn from photography? Hobbies don’t pay the bills. Since we’re all acquaintances, I can set you up with a job.” I was taken aback, then realized he misunderstood me. My love for photography wasn’t because I still harbored feelings for Gideon. In fact, when I saw that suicide note in my previous life, I had already given up completely. When I returned to life, I found all my money had been spent on photography equipment. I couldn’t sell it second-hand, so I had no choice but to use it myself. Eventually, I genuinely fell in love with photography. This time around, it’s not about pleasing others; it’s for myself. I politely declined Gideon again, my tone courteous yet distant. “My hobby is enough to cover my expenses, but thanks for your concern.” Seeing my ingratitude, a flash of anger crossed Gideon’s face. “If you don’t seize the opportunity I’m offering, don’t come crying to me later!” I stayed silent, not telling him that now, my photography work is featured in several national publications and top international magazines. The various licensing fees add up to no less than Gideon’s income. But even if I said it, he’d probably dismiss it as boasting. After all, in my crumpled pajamas, I did look quite shabby. It’s my son’s fault; he insisted I play with him in the sandbox. When I turned around, he had slipped downstairs again. I hadn’t had time to change clothes before chasing after him. Just as I was thinking of an excuse to leave, the waiter seemed to have noticed something. He pointed at my clothes and said, “Balenciaga? Where did you find that outfit? Are you a cleaner here, stealing from guests’ rooms?” I couldn’t help but frown. “Why can’t these clothes be mine?” Fiona sneered, mocking, “Yours? Can you afford them? What wealthy person would run around dressed so casually like you?” She pretended to cover her nose. “So dirty, you probably wore it without washing.” Gideon looked at me, his eyebrows furrowed tightly. “Adeline, have you really fallen to this state and still refuse to admit it?” I didn’t want to engage with them, so I directly addressed the waiter. “If you really think I stole something, feel free to call the police now.” I knew he was trying to please Fiona by stepping on me. Sure enough, his bravado dwindled immediately as he mumbled, “If it weren’t for the big shots at the hotel today, I’d have called the police on you already.” Fiona’s eyes lit up, quickly picking up on it. “Is it Mr. Lowe? I heard he’s here in Ocean City with his family, staying at this hotel.” Gideon nodded, a look of anticipation in his eyes. “The project our company is working on would benefit greatly from the Lowe family’s support.” The mention of Mr. Lowe sparked a flurry of discussion, as if a match had been struck in dry tinder. “We’re at this banquet today hoping to meet Mr. Lowe, aren’t we? This entire building is owned by his family.” “I heard he got married and had a child in his early twenties, but who did he marry?” As the crowd was discussing, the lobby manager rushed in, sweating profusely, followed by a group of people. “Everyone, has anyone seen a seven-year-old boy around here, about this tall?” The manager, wiping his sweat, searched the hall anxiously. Someone quick on the uptake guessed immediately, seeing the big commotion. “Is it the Lowe family’s young master? I heard he’s seven this year.” The banquet guests got enthusiastic, searching everywhere. After all, finding him could be a chance to connect with the Lowe family. Gideon and Fiona joined the search, leaving me alone. I watched the chaotic hall and headed straight to the dessert area. Sure enough, I found my son there, his face covered in cream. With a stern face, I extended my hand. “Come here.” Startled, my son clung to the table leg. “No.” Just as I was about to pull him over, Fiona appeared out of nowhere, self-righteously blocking me. “Adeline, what are you doing!” “Even if you want to connect with the Lowe family, you shouldn’t lay hands on a child!” Gideon arrived upon hearing the commotion, his eyes full of disappointment as he looked at me. “Adeline, I can’t believe you’d do something like this for fame and fortune.” The waiter grabbed the manager to complain. “This woman barged into the banquet and stole another customer’s clothes!” The manager’s face turned cold immediately, calling for the security guard. “Arrest this thief and send her to the police! If she scares the young master, none of you will keep your jobs!” A satisfied gleam flashed in Fiona’s eyes as she bent down, putting on a kind face toward the Lowe family’s young master. “Come here, auntie will protect you.” My son ignored her, and to everyone’s shock, carefully reached out to hold my hand. “Mom, I know I was wrong.”

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The poor girl I spent a million dollars sponsoring turned out to be a master manipulator. She chased after my son while sleeping with my husband. When I was on my deathbed in the ICU, desperately waiting for money to save my life, she took all our assets and went on a world tour with my husband. She even had the gall to mock me: “Mrs. Lewis, didn’t you always tell me to pursue my dreams and be brave in love? My dream was to inherit your money, sleep with your man, and take over your life.” In the end, I died full of hatred, powerless to fight back. But when I opened my eyes again, I had been reborn—back to the day she first stepped into my house. “Hello, Mrs. Lewis. Thank you for taking me in.” Standing at the door with her oversized bags, Wendy smiled shyly. She looked so timid, glancing nervously around my house as if overwhelmed by her new surroundings. In my previous life, I thought her reaction was because she felt uneasy about entering an unfamiliar environment. Now I knew better. She wasn’t nervous—she was coveting my wealth. Wendy was an orphan, her parents having died when she was still a child. She had grown up in the remote mountains, barely surviving on scraps. The story of her eating a single piece of stale bread over three days had made national headlines. I felt sorry for her back then. Her tragic situation moved me so much that I decided to sponsor her escape from poverty. For 15 years, from grade school to college, I spent over a million dollars on her education and living expenses. But Wendy was nothing more than an ungrateful snake—a manipulative, scheming woman. She started by pursuing my son, Ryan, relentlessly. When Ryan had finally had enough and confessed to me that Wendy had been harassing him at school, I thought I’d finally see her true colors. But Wendy, ever the actress, immediately burst into tears, her voice trembling as she pleaded: “That’s not true, Mrs. Lewis… I only treated Ryan kindly because I’m so grateful to your family.” “I don’t have any friends at school, and Ryan feels like family to me. I envy my classmates because they have loving parents and siblings… but I’m always alone.” Her tearful confession left Ryan speechless. In the end, he apologized to her. Even my husband, who was never particularly kind, comforted her gently: “Who said you’re alone? Aren’t we your family too?” Wendy looked up at him with watery eyes, whispering: “Thank you… Mr. Lewis.” Her tears made her seem pitiful. Yet when she smiled, she looked so pure and resilient, like someone who had endured great hardships but remained innocent. It was the kind of act that made people instinctively want to protect her. That one word, “Mr. Lewis,” was spoken so sweetly and softly—it was enough to make anyone’s heart melt. Even then, I felt something was off about her. But Wendy was too clever. She turned to me, her expression full of sincerity, as she said: “And Mrs. Lewis, I promise I won’t disappoint you. I’ll work hard to repay your kindness.” Her acting was flawless. Her eyes sparkled with such genuine gratitude that I dismissed the unease in my heart. I continued to help her, supporting her all the way through college. But as soon as she graduated, she seduced my husband. I caught them in my bedroom—her clothes a mess, her body covered in the marks he’d left behind. When I confronted her, shaking with rage, she smirked and replied: “What’s the rush, Mrs. Lewis?” “It’s not my fault you’re getting old. Mr. Lewis just prefers someone younger.” “I’m just… repaying your kindness.” As she spoke, she deliberately adjusted her clothes to reveal more of the evidence, as if she was proud of her conquest. And my husband? He had the audacity to shield her behind him, saying: “Rebecca, don’t blame Wendy. This is all my fault. I was the one who insisted on being with her.” Years of overwork had taken a toll on my health. My heart was already weak, and this betrayal pushed me over the edge. I collapsed, clutching my chest as pain ripped through me. While I lay dying in the ICU, Wendy used my money to fund a luxurious trip around the world with my husband. In the end, I died alone, consumed by anger and despair. Before I passed, Wendy finally came to see me. Smiling triumphantly, she said: “Mrs. Lewis, didn’t you always encourage me to chase my dreams?” “Well, my dream was to inherit your money, sleep with your husband, and live your life.” Her shamelessness was so astonishing that it left me speechless, even in my final moments. As my consciousness faded, I made one last desperate wish: if I could have another chance, I would never let them get away with this! The next moment, I opened my eyes— And found myself back on the day Wendy first arrived at my house. The day I had let the wolf into my home.

“Mrs. Lewis, I’ll be starting high school when the semester begins.” Wendy’s voice broke the silence, as if testing the waters when she noticed I hadn’t spoken for a while. Her words pulled me back from the memories of my previous life, and I refocused my gaze on her. I studied her carefully, forcing down a wave of disgust as I gave her a faint smile. —She’d been living quite comfortably off my money these past few years. When I first saw her in the mountains, she was dark-skinned, malnourished, and scrawny. Now? Her skin was fair and smooth, her figure well-fed, and even her voice carried a soft, sweet tone. “Come in,” I said, gesturing toward the door. “The guest room is ready. Make sure to focus on your studies.” As I spoke, I glanced at the man standing beside me—George Lewis. I had no intention of sending Wendy back to where she came from. Trash should be thrown into the trash can, after all. I had even gone out of my way to “dress up” George for the occasion. He wore a crisp white shirt paired with tailored slacks, and on his wrist was the six-figure Cartier watch I had gifted him for our wedding anniversary. From the outside, he looked flawless—a charming, successful man. But in reality, I was the one with the money. George held a useless position at my company, a job I gave him just so he’d have something to do. He had no real power. But girls like Wendy—greedy and shallow—were easily fooled by appearances. Hah. If she was so desperate to play the part of a manipulative gold-digger, I’d hand her over to the dog myself. This time, I’d push George straight into her arms so she wouldn’t have time to go after my son. Sure enough, from the moment George appeared, Wendy’s demeanor changed. She pretended to be shy and obedient, but her gaze kept drifting toward him. I nudged George deliberately and said, “Honey, don’t just stand there. Help Wendy with her luggage.” George, snapping out of his daze, finally reached out his well-manicured hands to pick up Wendy’s suitcase. He led her into the living room. When their hands accidentally brushed during the handoff, Wendy’s cheeks turned pink. She lowered her head bashfully and murmured, “Thank you… Mr. Lewis.” I watched the scene unfold, a cold smile forming in my mind. Perfect. The fish was starting to nibble at the bait.

For the first few days after Wendy moved in, she behaved herself. Well, mostly. There was just one incident: she wandered into the living room in her pajamas, pretending it was an accident, and deliberately lingered in front of George. It was subtle, more like a test than anything outright inappropriate. But I could tell—she was itching to make her move. Every day, I watched her play the role of the innocent, sweet girl, flitting around George Lewiske a little butterfly. I pretended not to notice. The more she thought she was getting away with it, the bolder she became. Then, the fall break arrived. My son, Ryan, was coming home from boarding school. In my previous life, this was when Wendy and Ryan first met. I was curious to see if she’d try to pull the same tricks on him this time. And, predictably— It seemed Wendy had decided George would take too long to seduce. She’d set her sights on Ryan instead. That day, as soon as I walked into the house, I heard her sugary voice: “Ryan, have some water.” Ryan, bless him, had a good eye for trouble. From the moment he saw Wendy, he clearly didn’t like her. He glared at her attempt to fawn over him and snapped, “Get lost. I’m not your brother, and I don’t have a sister. Stay away from me.” Wendy’s face froze, but she quickly recovered. Her eyes turned red, and tears started streaming down her cheeks. “Ryan, do you… not like me?” she whimpered. She then turned her tearful gaze toward George, sniffling pitifully. “Mr. Lewis, I’m sorry. It’s my fault. I must’ve done something wrong to make Ryan hate me…” George, predictably, softened at her display. He immediately tried to smooth things over. “Don’t worry about Ryan, Wendy. He’s always been spoiled by us—don’t take his words to heart.” I decided it was time to step in. Wendy’s lingering gaze on George hadn’t even faded yet when I walked into the room, catching her off guard. The moment she saw me, her expression stiffened. She quickly masked it with a look of vulnerability and said, “Mrs. Lewis, it’s all my fault. I upset Ryan earlier. You can blame me, but please don’t be mad at him.” Ryan’s face darkened as he glanced at me, clearly wanting to explain himself but unsure how to start. And honestly, I didn’t blame him. In my previous life, even I had fallen for Wendy’s act. How could my son stand a chance? Back then, I had scolded Ryan harshly for being rude to Wendy. He’d always been an obedient child, taking my words to heart. Because I constantly praised Wendy in front of him—telling him to treat her like a little sister and protect her—Ryan reluctantly put up with her. When Wendy got into trouble at school, he even defended her, getting into fights on her behalf. That led to a disciplinary record right before his college entrance exams. Looking back, I must’ve been out of my mind to favor an ungrateful snake over my own son. But this time, I wouldn’t make the same mistake. Meeting Wendy’s gaze, I smiled faintly. “Why would I blame Ryan?” I said coolly. “Wendy, Ryan works very hard at school, and this is his chance to rest. Don’t bother him unless it’s important.” Then I added pointedly, “I only have one son, after all.” Wendy’s eyes widened in disbelief, and for a split second, I caught a flash of hatred in her gaze. But she quickly suppressed it, replacing it with a pitiful expression as she whispered, “Of course, Mrs. Lewis. I’m sorry. I’ll make sure not to disturb Ryan again.” Ryan let out a sigh of relief and walked over to me. “Mom, I’ve missed your cooking. The food at school is terrible.” George patted Ryan’s shoulder, saying, “You’ve been working hard, son. I’ll take you shopping for new shoes tomorrow.” Wendy watched our warm family interaction, biting her lip so hard it turned white. I glanced at her out of the corner of my eye. Maybe the problem wasn’t that no one had taught her properly. Maybe she’d been rotten to the core all along.

When I started sponsoring Wendy, she was just in the third grade. She lived in the remote mountains where the roads were nearly impassable. To get to school, she had to climb over hills and leave the house before the sun even rose. Her parents had passed away, and she lived with her grandmother, barely scraping by. They were so poor that they couldn’t afford proper meals or clothing. Feeling sorry for her, I decided to sponsor her education all the way through college, giving her a monthly stipend of $500 for living expenses. Over the years, she would write me letters from time to time, bragging about her excellent grades. Out of kindness and goodwill, I believed every word she said. I never once questioned whether she was lying. But when she took her high school entrance exams, she only managed to get into the worst-performing school. Based on the grades she had claimed to have, she should have easily gotten into one of the best schools in the district. As her sponsor, I felt it was only natural to ask why she had “underperformed.” Her explanation? “Mrs. Lewis, I’m so sorry for disappointing you. “My grandma got sick, and I was so worried about her that I couldn’t focus on studying.” She used her grandmother’s health as an excuse, leaving me with no room to argue. Not long after, her grandmother passed away. At the funeral, Wendy clung to my hand tightly, tears streaming down her face as she pleaded: “Mrs. Lewis, I have no family left. “Can I live with you? “Please, let me call you Mom. I’ll take care of you when you’re old. I’ll repay you no matter what.” Looking at her tear-streaked face, I sighed and agreed. In public, she always played the role of the pitiful, apologetic girl, making herself seem so small and humble. In my previous life, I was touched by her act and tried to be as kind to her as possible. It wasn’t until my death that I realized it had all been an act. She did it to make me let my guard down.

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Karen, the daughter of my neighbor, is three months pregnant. She sent a message in our building’s SnapChat group, tagging every resident. “My daughter is pregnant, and all expenses for the child will be shared among all residents of Building 3.” “For those who can’t afford to pay, we’ll reluctantly accept valuable items as collateral, like designer bags or jewelry.” “Each household needs to contribute $1,000 upfront. Monthly payments are allowed, but with a $10 interest charge per month.” “Reply to this message to confirm you’ve seen it. Otherwise, I’ll come knocking on your door, and you’ll have to pay an additional $50 inconvenience fee.” Karen swears that her daughter’s baby daddy is one of the residents in our building. The first-floor resident protests, claiming his 90-year-old bedridden father couldn’t possibly have impregnated Karen’s daughter. The seventh-floor resident pleads innocence, stating their apartment has been empty for two years, so it couldn’t have been a ghost from their place. As a single woman living alone on the same floor as Karen, I’m under the most suspicion and am being asked to pay double the “nutrition fee.” I love money too. Is it too much to try and get a few hundred dollars out of Karen’s pocket first?

Last weekend afternoon, all residents of Building 3 were shocked by a message. Karen (402): “My daughter is pregnant. I hereby declare that the child will be raised collectively by all residents in this building.” The sender was my next-door neighbor who had moved into 402 six months ago. Her profile picture was heavily filtered, making her look like she was in her thirties. This was the first time she had spoken in the residents’ group since moving in. Messages flooded in rapidly, with people sending question marks and confused emoji faces. The resident from 501 was the first to mock her: “Did your sense of shame go on vacation with the Great Wall? What does your daughter’s pregnancy have to do with us? If you’re that desperate for money, I can charitably donate some for you to burn at a temple.” Others chimed in with agreement. “You want us all to help raise your grandchild? Will the baby call all of us mom, dad, grandma, and grandpa when it’s born?” “Your daughter didn’t sleep with all of us. Go find whoever got her pregnant.” Karen sent another message, this time a voice note. “How is this not related to you? My daughter was impregnated by someone in this building! You bastards, think you can get away with it after having your fun? Let me tell you, no way!” After hearing Karen’s voice message, everyone’s emotions calmed down a bit. Karen’s implication was clear – her daughter’s baby daddy was someone in this building, and the scumbag had taken advantage of her and was now refusing to take responsibility.

Jenny from 501 quickly apologized: “I’m sorry about earlier, sis. I didn’t know the situation. But you should go after the person responsible, why ask all of us to pay?” Seeing several residents turn sympathetic, Karen became even more aggressive, her tone increasingly disrespectful. “My daughter was knocked unconscious and assaulted just as she got off the elevator one night three months ago. Now she’s pregnant, and I don’t have money to take care of a pregnant woman.” “The son of a bitch who did this is definitely from our building. Since we can’t find out who it is, each household will have to share the cost.” “For now, I’m only collecting for prenatal nutrition and check-ups. Other child-rearing costs will be discussed after the baby is born.” I was speechless. She was clearly trying to swindle the entire building. The resident from 1201 interrupted Karen’s long speech: “We sympathize with what happened to your daughter. However, what you should do now is report it to the police immediately, not cause trouble in the residents’ group.” I had met the resident from 1201 in the elevator before. She’s a teacher at a nearby high school and often helps mediate neighborhood disputes. When she spoke up, others were willing to give her face and stopped saying harsh things about Karen’s messages. But Karen clearly didn’t appreciate it. She tagged 1201 and started cursing. “Report to the police? Report what? You’re supposed to be a teacher, don’t you know not to air your dirty laundry in public? Are you deliberately trying to let everyone know about my daughter’s situation?” “You’re just a slut who’s always flirting with male students at school, trying to drag my daughter down with you? Pah! You shameless bitch, if you dare not pay, I’ll go to your school and let everyone know what kind of filthy trash you are!” “I’ll only say this once in the group: whoever dares to spread the news about my daughter’s pregnancy, be careful I don’t tear your mouth apart.” Amidst Karen’s cursing, the resident from 102 managed to squeeze in a message. “My family only consists of my bedridden elderly father and his female caretaker. Even if your daughter was impregnated by someone, it couldn’t possibly be related to my household, right?” Karen’s fighting spirit was impressive. Her mouth spewed profanities, with many words being censored. After 102 started it, several other households began trying to distance themselves from this troublesome affair and this difficult family. “My apartment has been empty for two years, it couldn’t have been a ghost from my place, right?” “I’ve been on a business trip for six months and haven’t been home.” “Only my mother and daughter live in my place.” …… Karen relentlessly battled with her words against the group, only stopping when no one was willing to engage with her anymore. Interestingly, her daughter, the “protagonist” of this drama, hadn’t said a single word in the group chat throughout the entire ordeal.

The building I live in has two apartments per floor. Next door at 402 lives a mother and daughter pair, and I’ve never seen any man in their family. We occasionally bump into each other in the hallway. Karen dresses fashionably, with tattooed eyebrows and permed hair. Her daughter Lily, despite being only twenty, dresses like she’s in her seventies or eighties. From the few encounters we’ve had, it’s clear that the mother has a bad temper and often scolds her daughter. Lily, on the other hand, is quite polite and always greets me with a smile when we meet. The first time I met them was on the day they moved in. As I came out of the elevator, I saw Karen sitting in her living room, yelling at her daughter. Just because the moving guy had chatted with Lily for a bit, Karen was calling her daughter a “vixen” and a “slut”. Lily seemed meek, keeping her head down as she moved things into the apartment, not responding to her mother’s insults. Karen noticed me passing by and gave me a look that could cut like a knife. At that moment, I had a pretty good idea of what kind of person Karen was. A low-quality, irresponsible, difficult, and aggressively competitive middle-aged woman. It’s a shame that Lily, at such a young age, isn’t immediately reporting this incident to the police. Instead, they’re trying to cover it up and extort money. It’s a disservice to her daughter as well.

Just as the residents’ group chat had quieted down, my doorbell suddenly rang. I peeked through the peephole and saw Karen standing at my door with her hands on her hips, looking displeased. Before I could think much, she started banging on the door aggressively. Lily was behind her mother, tugging at her clothes, trying to persuade her to go home. Karen spat out a curse, calling her daughter “useless girl,” and pushed her away. She then crossed her arms and looked me up and down as if appraising merchandise. “You weren’t sleeping just now, so why didn’t you say anything in the group chat? Are you mute or did your hands fall off?” “Given that you live on the same floor as us, your household is the most suspicious. While others only need to pay one share, you must pay two. And you’ll be responsible for all the fruit. Pregnant women need the most expensive fruits for nutrition and health. You’d better not try to fool us with cheap, pesticide-laden stuff.” I’m the only woman living in my apartment, and there’s no medical miracle that could have made her daughter pregnant. Having witnessed the whole thing, I was fully aware of Karen’s shamelessness and was about to close the door. There’s no point in saying another word to someone like her. Karen was surprisingly strong, forcefully holding the almost-closed door with one hand. But her hand got caught, and a few spots of blood appeared where the skin broke. “You black-hearted little whore, are you blind? If you don’t pay a thousand dollars in compensation today, see if I’ll let you off easy.” She then sat down on my doorstep, hugging my leg and wailing dramatically. No matter how much I tried to shake her off or how red-faced her daughter was trying to pull her away, it was all useless. I glanced at my phone, which had vibrated a few times. It was a private message from Jenny in 501. Jenny (501): “Hang in there, sister. I’ve called the police for you.” Jenny (501): “Let the police deal with this lunatic, otherwise you might not be able to get rid of her today.” Jenny (501): “Let the police lock her up for a few days, see if she dares to make trouble again.” Attached at the end was a gleeful emoji. Unfortunately, Jenny’s hopes were dashed. The police just wanted to smooth things over, suggesting I pay Karen $50 for medical expenses to resolve the matter. Karen was like a victorious rooster. Seeing the police leave, she kicked my door hard and gloated. “You little bitch, you think I can’t deal with you? Pay up obediently, or else… Hmph!” I was so angered by this shameless person that my heart ached. I took a pill of the heart medication my dad had left at my place, and only then did I manage to calm down.

Karen started pestering everyone in the residents’ group daily to pay the “nutrition fee,” but no one responded to her. Jenny vented to me: “It’s unbelievable that they’re not getting rid of this bastard child. Expecting us to help raise the kid, what are this mother and daughter thinking? Have they no shame?” “If we can’t fight her, we can at least avoid her, right? Talk about bad luck. If I hadn’t spent all my savings on this apartment, I’d have moved out already.” Only a few households in this building were renters, including 402. For the past month, Karen had been waiting downstairs early every morning, trying to mooch groceries off people coming back from shopping. She’d take fruits, vegetables, and meat. If anyone refused to give her anything, she’d sit on the ground, grab their legs, and wail, calling passersby to watch the “heartless man” or his family members. The older residents would argue with her until it came to blows. The young girls, being more timid, couldn’t bear the embarrassment of quarreling with her in the busy hallway with onlookers, so they were the ones she swindled the most. At first, she got whatever she asked for. Later, people wisened up and created a group to help each other, timing their returns to her lunch hour. Several renting households were forced to move out overnight. I rarely cook at home, so I secretly rejoiced that she couldn’t bother me. The food delivery app showed that the delivery guy had already taken a photo of my lunch at the building’s designated delivery spot. After searching carefully several times, I couldn’t find it. Before I could call the delivery driver to ask, Karen posted several photos in the residents’ group, tagging me. The sushi I had splurged on to reward myself after finally satisfying a client’s demands after several sleepless nights appeared in the photos. The luxurious sushi was already half-eaten, with the remains mixed with fruit peels and other scraps in the delivery box. “You have money to order such expensive food, but you don’t know to pay the nutrition fee voluntarily?” “Don’t think I don’t know what you do for a living. I hardly ever see you leave your apartment, you don’t go to work, yet you spend money so lavishly. You must be kept by some man, probably that old guy who visited your place last time.” “Since you earn money just by lying down, you should pay three shares of the nutrition fee, and you’ll also be responsible for my daughter’s lunch from now on.” Karen continued to condescendingly “instruct” me in the group chat, warning me to be careful not to let the original wife find out and scratch my face. I responded with a string of angry poop emojis. I was about to continue, but Jenny from 501 sent me a message: “I advise you not to confront her head-on. Just endure it, at most be more careful when ordering takeout in the future. Don’t tell me you don’t know about what happened to Mrs. Thompson on the twelfth floor?”

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