Category: English

I’ve always been known as the prettiest and most popular teacher at our school. Everyone admired me. But then, one of my students, a boy I tried really hard to help, tricked me. He drugged me, and while I was out of it, calling him “sweetie,” he put his hand under my shirt. Afterwards, he bragged about it and shared videos everywhere. “What’s so great about her? I slept with her, and she’s not special at all,” he said. My world crashed. No one looked up to me anymore. My husband left me, my family was ostracized, and I got fired from the school. The online bullying was too much, so I jumped from the school’s roof. But then a miracle happened. I woke up again on the exact day that boy was supposed to transfer into my class. Once again, I stood in front of my senior-year class, wearing my familiar Bohemian dress and white sandals, looking as graceful as ever. I was still that young, beautiful English teacher. A new student had just joined our class, and today was his first day. As he walked in, everyone looked at him curiously and started whispering. “Whoa, he’s so ugly! My expectations have just been crushed.” “I’m not being mean, but he makes me feel sick. Sorry, not sorry.” He walked in with a limp, his face covered in acne scars, and a big mole under his nose. “Hi everyone, I’m Rolf Wagner. ” At that moment, he shyly greeted the class, his gaze fixed on me. I stopped breathing for a second. Rolf Wagner — no matter how many times I die, I’ll never forget that name. Hatred surged within me. In my previous life, I pitied him for his poor background, stood up to bullies for him, bought him new clothes, and taught him life lessons. But on a stormy night, Rolf Wagner followed me home. I let him in to avoid the rain, but he secretly drugged my drink. While I rested on the couch, calling my husband’s name in a daze, he trembled as he unbuttoned my shirt. I passed out completely, helpless. The next day, I woke up covered in bruises and marks. Panicking, I immediately called the police, but he was nowhere to be found. During the days he disappeared, I was constantly on edge. Then, I saw the explicit video that was spreading like wildfire in every group chat, captioned: “What’s the big deal about her? I’ve had her, and she’s nothing special.” The woman in the video being humiliated was me, sobbing helplessly, begging for mercy. The internet exploded with rumors, because once, my candid photos had gone viral, and I had been dubbed by netizens as the “Dream Girl” and “First Love Face.” #DreamGirlTeacherFakesDrunkennessToSeduceStudent# He didn’t come forward to admit what he did. Instead, he hid in the shadows and sent me a creepy anonymous text: “Mrs. Gregory, now you and I are both in the mud. Be with me, I’ll treat you well.” Ultimately, unable to withstand the online bullying, I jumped off the school’s rooftop in despair. At that time, I was already three months pregnant. From being praised by everyone as their ideal to falling from grace, I found myself in a hopeless abyss. But now, as I once again stand in front of the classroom, looking down at the students below. The gears of fate start turning. This is my chance to redeem myself.

He gave me a shy smile, and when our eyes met, a shiver ran down my spine. I tried to stay calm. After all, I had a second chance, and he had no idea about it. I could still stop everything from happening. “We have a new student today. Who wants to sit next to him?” I announced. Since he started school late, he was older than the rest of us, already twenty, and he wasn’t what you’d call good-looking. The classroom fell silent—nobody wanted to pair up with him. Just then, the top student in our class raised her hand. “Mrs. Gregory, I’ll sit next to him.” Her kind face reminded me so much of my past life. I replied coldly, “I’ve heard that Wagner is struggling academically. I wouldn’t want him to hold you back. Let’s have him sit by himself in the last row.” There were plenty of empty seats where he could sit with someone, but I chose the harshest way possible. He seemed puzzled, as if he couldn’t believe my indifferent attitude and how I was deliberately making things hard for him. Rolf Wagner muttered to himself, “Why she treated me like this…” Every word he said sent chills down my spine. After class, I bolted back to my office, my back soaked with cold sweat. I gulped down some hot coffee but didn’t even feel the heat. My mind was racing. Should I quit and leave now? I had worked so hard to get this job. Why should I give it all up because of him? I sat there, dazed, until it was time to go home. My husband, Albert Gregory, was waiting in the car at the school gate for half an hour. When he saw me coming down, he hurriedly got out and pulled me into his arms. “You seem really upset. What happened?” he asked. Smelling his warm, familiar scent, I couldn’t hold back my tears any longer. Albert and I had a great relationship. In my previous life, he divorced me to protect me from online bullying, moving with me to another city under new identities. When he saw how much I was suffering, he even took a knife to confront Rolf Wagner, but Rolf turned the tables on him, leaving him dead in a pool of blood. Looking at Albert’s handsome face, I wiped away my tears and forced a smile. “It’s nothing, just feeling a bit unwell. Let’s go home.” Albert was still worried, insisting on taking me to the hospital for a check-up. An hour later, the blood test results were in. I was pregnant. Albert, over the moon, lifted me and spun me around. “Honey, this is amazing! We’re going to have a baby!” “If it’s a girl, she’ll be as beautiful and cute as you,” he said. I laughed through my tears, silently vowing to protect this hard-earned happiness. The next day, I went to class as usual, using a microphone because my voice was hoarse. The loudspeaker drowned out all my chaotic thoughts. I didn’t look towards that corner of the room, focusing solely on teaching. A few days passed peacefully, until Thursday afternoon. After my last class, I was heading back to the office when several female students blocked my way. They were supporting Rolf Wagner, who smelled like the bathroom and was covered in injuries. His limp was worse than ever. I knew his pitiful demeanor was just a facade. He was strong enough to fight back but never did, silently enduring the bullying from a few troublemakers. His nails were long and dirty, and his left hand was bloody, with a chunk of skin missing. “Mrs. Gregory! Rolf got bullied, and his finger’s skin was ripped off. What should we do?” one of the girls asked, standing up for him. Rolf looked at me pitifully, his nose scrunched in pain, making his face even more disgusting. “Please help me, Mrs. Gregory…” I didn’t want to deal with it and told them to take him to the nurse’s office, turning to leave. “But, Mrs. Gregory, you have a first aid kit in your office. The nurse’s office is too far. Can’t you bandage him up here?” A student called out. I hesitated, seeing Rolf’s pleading eyes and his bleeding hand. Just then, the bell rang. I suddenly nodded. “Alright, follow me. Everyone else, go back to class.” Rolf flashed a barely noticeable sly smile. He followed me to the office, which was empty because it was class time. I opened the first aid kit and pulled out some alcohol, tweezers, and gauze. “Sit down, I’ll dress your wound,” I said. The breeze fluttered the curtains, lightly ringing the seashell wind chime near the window. I gently and meticulously cleaned his wound. As I worked, he suddenly blushed. “What’s wrong?” I asked. “Mrs. Gregory, you… you’re really beautiful,” Rolf said, staring blankly at me. Taking advantage of his distraction, I smiled and dunked his entire finger into the bottle of alcohol. His wound, already down to the raw flesh, was now submerged in disinfectant. “Be a good boy and let me disinfect it, okay?” I said. He screamed in pain, trying to pull away, his face contorted in agony. “It hurts, teacher! It hurts so much!” But I kept smiling, gripping his wrist tightly, forcing his finger into the narrow bottle neck, soaking it in alcohol until it turned red. He bit his lip, drawing blood, his eyes bulging in shock. For the first time, I saw clear hatred in his eyes.

He could see clearly that I was kind and gentle to everyone—everyone except him, the monster I knew he was. Because of his serious injuries, the school nurse sent him to the hospital. After a few days, Rolf Wagner came back to school with his hand wrapped in bandages. He worked hard in my classes, raising his hand to answer questions, but I always ignored him. Even when he won first place in the school computer competition, I gave him no praise. His enthusiasm gradually dimmed. One day, he approached me and asked, “Mrs. Gregory, why can’t I earn your approval no matter how hard I try?” I slightly swiveled in my office chair, not even looking at him. If showing mercy and compassion results in betrayal, then I didn’t mind being the villain. As long as I can protect myself. “Because you’re unworthy. Some things can’t be changed with effort. Your disgusting heart is far uglier than your face,” I said, feeling justified. Just days ago, on my way home, I caught him torturing a stray cat. By the time I saw it, the poor kitten had been scalded to death with boiling water. He had smiled and said, “That little cat-so naughty! It scratched me.” And back to the moment, Rolf Wagner glared at me, his hand clenching slightly under his sleeve. I didn’t care and continued to treat him coldly. Even the headmaster noticed and frowned while reminding me, “Mrs. Gregory, treat all students equally. Don’t be harsh on him; he needs extra care.” But I didn’t hide my disdain. Right in front of Rolf, I said, “What’s so special about him? He is no different from the other kids. If I treated him differently, would that be fair to the other students?” As a result, he began to hate me, spreading rumors about an improper relationship between me and the principal. However, whenever he saw me, he still put on a smile and greeted me. As fall turned to winter, he started wearing shabby jackets and torn jeans, sticking out in our well-dressed student body. I heard he lost his parents young and was raised by his grandmother, who spoiled him rotten. On my twenty-fifth birthday, I was awarded the title of Outstanding Teacher at the city level—a double celebration. I had a great relationship with my students, making this job something I loved deeply. A few students pooled their money to buy me a beautiful, grand bouquet, which I accepted with a smile. Just as I was laughing and chatting with the students, I saw an unexpected guest in the crowd. Rolf came up to give me a flower as well. He handed me a single white rose, its petals crushed and oozing sap—a hideous sight. “Mrs. Gregory, I saved up my allowance for a week to buy this for you. Please like it,” he said, full of hope. But I, with my smile gone, took a tissue, picked up the flower with it, and tossed it to the ground in front of all the teachers and students. I wrinkled my nose in disdain. “Gross.” Rolf’s mouth quivered, but he still bent down to pick up the flower and walked away silently. His brooding gaze sent chills down my spine, but I didn’t turn back. I wasn’t afraid of his hatred. He always directed his anger toward those weaker than him, while he feared the strong.

My husband, Albert Gregory, had earned a black belt in Taekwondo in his spare time. I had even picked up some basic moves for self-defense. When I got home, Albert was waiting with a big bouquet of roses, his voice soft and loving. “Happy birthday to my amazing wife!” Despite his efforts, I couldn’t shake off my worries. During our candlelight dinner, he mentioned his upcoming overseas research trip. “This trip is really important, honey. I’ll be away for two months and I won’t be around to take care of you,” he sighed. I surprised him by firmly saying no. Knowing he wouldn’t believe in superstitions, I explained, “Albert, I had a dream a few nights ago. After you left, a guy broke into our house, tortured me, and you got killed while trying to protect me.” “Our whole family was ruined, while the bad guy got away,” I said, trembling. Albert squeezed my hand, worried. “How could that happen? We live in a safe neighborhood. Are you feeling okay?” After a lot of pleading, Albert decided to stay and give up his scholarship opportunity. I felt bad for holding him back, but I couldn’t ignore the grim date approaching—that stormy night when Rolf Wagner had broken into our home before. Fate seemed cruel. I remembered it was a Friday. After school, Rolf had once followed me in the rain, begging to come inside. That night, Albert was delayed by a storm. I grew anxious after I couldn’t reach him. He finally texted me, “Honey, the rain’s causing accidents on the highway. Traffic’s crazy, and I can’t make it back. Rest up, okay?” By 10:30 PM, there was no knock at the door. The rain pounded harder, drowning out my scattered thoughts. I began to relax a bit and got sleepy. My body was sticky with cold sweat, so I decided to take a shower before bed. The hot water felt comforting against my skin. In the bathroom mirror, I saw my reflection—cherry-like lips, a dainty nose, and big almond eyes with long lashes. I looked beautiful. I touched my still-flat belly. Albert always said I was beautiful, and he wasn’t bad-looking either. Our baby would be adorable. Lost in thought, I grabbed a towel. But then I saw a shadowy face in the foggy mirror moving towards me. It was Rolf Wagner! Panic surged through me. This wasn’t a hallucination. He had somehow cracked our door lock. A cold, muddy hand reached in. I screamed, but he quickly grabbed my waist, his other hand moving up my body. “Mrs. Gregory, it’s raining outside, and I’m so cold. Can you… hold me?”

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After my daughter caused a hit-and-run accident, she knelt in front of me, sobbing. “Mom, I just got accepted into Yale University. I have such a bright future ahead of me. If I go to prison, my life will be over. Please, I’m begging you—save me…” I agreed. Two years in prison, and neither my husband nor my daughter visited me even once. When I was finally released, I learned the bitter truth: it had all been a plot between my husband and daughter. They had transferred all my assets into their names long ago. The daughter who once wept and begged me to take the blame now spat at me, calling me a worthless, ugly ex-convict, and kicked me in the chest. I died on the spot, despite efforts to save me. But when I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day Charlotte received her college acceptance letter. “Mom, Dad! My scores are out! I got into Yale University!” Charlotte Carter, my adoptive daughter, exclaimed excitedly. “Well, of course, you did! After all, you’re Jack Carter’s daughter! Yale is one of the top universities. You’ve made your parents so proud. Honey, didn’t your year-end bonus just come through? Give it all to Charlotte and buy her that BMW,” my husband Jack declared proudly. It was a conversation I knew all too well, and I immediately realized—I had been reborn. “Dad, I’m still young. A car would be too flashy. Besides, Mom works so hard to earn that money. I’d feel bad spending it,” Charlotte said sweetly. In my past life, I had always thought she was a kind, dutiful, and considerate girl. But after going to prison, I learned she was nothing more than a snake hiding behind a sweet smile. “But your dad promised you—if you got into Yale, you’d get a BMW,” Jack said, glancing at me expectantly. Jack was a stay-at-home husband, and all our household expenses were covered by me. In my previous life, I had even felt guilty for not giving him a child of his own. “Why are you looking at me? You made the promise, not me,” I said coldly. Both Jack and Charlotte stared at me, wide-eyed. In my past life, they were always perfectly in sync—Charlotte playing the innocent angel, and Jack playing the doting father—all to squeeze money out of me. And I, foolishly, had fallen for it time and time again, thinking Charlotte was a loving daughter and Jack a generous man who treated her like his own. But now, watching them put on the same act, I felt nothing but disgust. “Did you lose your mind today? Charlotte got into Yale! That’s something to celebrate! You can’t even buy her a car? Do you even deserve to be her mother? Or is it that you’ve never truly seen her as your daughter?” Jack lashed out at me. “Dad, don’t say that. $50,000 isn’t a small amount, and Mom’s business needs the cash to keep things running smoothly. It’s fine if we don’t buy the car,” Charlotte said, still playing the part of the understanding daughter. “Fine, then we’ll get her a cheaper one—how about a $30,000 car?” Jack shouted, turning his anger toward me. “Have you been living under a rock? Since when is a $30,000 car considered cheap? If you want to buy her a car so badly, why don’t you use your own money?” I mocked. Jack stared at me, unable to believe I had just said that. Charlotte had the same shocked expression, as though the world had flipped upside down. In my past life, their tricks had always worked on me, and I would have done anything for them. I got swindled time and time again, and still believed they were good people. “Mom, I don’t need a car. Please don’t fight. This is all my fault,” Charlotte whimpered, tears spilling from her eyes. In my previous life, I would have hugged her, wiping away her tears, and promised her anything she wanted. But this time, I knew better—Charlotte was a manipulative viper. Watching her fake tears made my blood boil. SLAP! I slapped her across the face, hard. Father and daughter stood frozen in shock. Charlotte looked at me, terror and confusion in her eyes. “A mosquito bit your face. I swatted it too hard,” I said, feigning concern, as I reached out to touch her reddened cheek.

The next day, I went to my office and immediately changed all my bank account passwords, including the payment ones on my phone. This time around, I wouldn’t let Jack get a hold of my assets. Later, I asked the school for Charlotte’s SAT registration number and looked up her actual scores. I was stunned—she only scored 230. Even with an extra 400 points, she couldn’t have made it into Yale. In my previous life, Charlotte had shown me several of her mock exam scores—always over 650. I had believed her then, but now I realized those score reports must have been forged. That afternoon, I went to a private investigator and hired them to look into Jack and Charlotte. I suspected they were actually father and daughter. Twelve years ago, Jack had taken me to an orphanage, and out of all the children there, he had chosen Charlotte. At the time, I had thought they were simply drawn to each other by fate. But looking back, the way they had conspired against me, there was no other explanation. They had been planning this for twelve years—slowly but surely draining me of everything I had. A week later. I received a text from the bank saying that my supplementary credit card had been charged $30,000. In my haste, I had forgotten to cancel the supplementary card. I had given Jack the card for convenience—so he could buy groceries and cover household expenses. But I didn’t need to guess—I knew the $30,000 had gone toward buying a car. I quickly called the bank and had the card canceled.

That evening, as I arrived home, I saw a brand-new BMW X2 without license plates parked outside. When I stepped inside, Charlotte was there, smiling sweetly as she handed me my slippers. “Welcome home, Mom. You must be tired from work.” Looking at her fake smile, I wanted nothing more than to slap her again, but I had to restrain myself until I had all the facts. “Did your dad buy you the car?” I asked coolly. “Mom, I didn’t want it, but Dad insisted. There wasn’t anything I could do,” she said, putting on her most innocent expression. “I’ve canceled your supplementary card. From now on, I’ll give you $1,000 a month for household expenses. If you need to buy anything big, just let me know and I’ll get it for you.” “What’s that supposed to mean? Our daughter got into Yale, doesn’t she deserve a reward?” Jack stormed over, his face red with anger. I nearly exposed them right then and there. 230 points. That pathetic score wouldn’t get her into Yale in a million years. But I held back. “I’m only thinking of her. She’s still young and just got her driver’s license. What if she gets into an accident? Then what? Am I supposed to bury my own daughter?” I asked, pretending to be concerned. Jack slammed his fist on the table and leaped up. “How dare you curse my daughter?” In that moment, I was absolutely certain—Charlotte was Jack’s biological daughter. “I’m not cursing her. I’m just worried for her safety.” “Hmph. You’re just too cheap to spend money,” Jack sneered. “Mom, did you get upset because Dad used your money to buy me a car?” Charlotte immediately went into victim mode, her eyes welling up with tears. I gently patted her head and said, “How could I be upset about spending money on you? I’m just worried about your driving skills. If something happened to you, how could I go on living?” If they could play their games, so could I. “Mom, I got into Yale, one of the best universities in the country! Any other mother would have thrown a massive party and showered me with gifts, but you haven’t done anything. Do you not love me anymore?” she cried, her acting flawless. Her performance was nothing short of brilliant. I continued patting her head and replied, “Well, these days, the country promotes frugality. Throwing a party would be wasteful. Besides, it’s important to stay humble. Being too flashy will only make others jealous. As for gifts, isn’t that BMW a gift?” “Mom, you don’t love me anymore! You don’t understand! The car isn’t for showing off or making my life easier. It’s because I want to fulfill a dream—I want to take you on a road trip, across the country, to thank you for everything you’ve done for me.” “Charlotte, I appreciate your sentiment, but doesn’t something feel off?” “What’s off?” she asked, looking genuinely confused. “Shouldn’t you be the one earning the money to buy the car and take me on a road trip? It’s like saying you’re going to treat me to a meal, but then I end up paying for it. Doesn’t that seem odd?” She froze, clearly unable to come up with a rebuttal. “Emma Richardson, how can you call yourself a mother? How could you crush your daughter’s loving intentions like this?” Jack said, sending Charlotte a quick wink. “Mom, you’re being so cruel. You don’t love me anymore…” Charlotte wailed as she stormed out of the house. “Charlotte, wait!” Jack followed after her. Suddenly, I remembered the notice at the entrance of our building: Last night, the surveillance cameras were damaged. Repairs are underway. Please secure your belongings and lock your doors. Were they trying to set me up? With the cameras down and no witnesses, they could easily frame me for something. The thought sent a chill down my spine. I immediately called my assistant, Claire, who lived just a mile away. Then I phoned five of my employees and told them there was an emergency meeting at my place and that they should come as quickly as possible. I’d cover their cab fare. By 9 p.m., I heard the door open and stepped out of the study. “Have you been here the whole time?” Jack asked. “Yes.” “I don’t believe you. You didn’t go out looking for Charlotte?” “She’s not a child anymore. She can take care of herself.” “What kind of mother are you? How can you be so heartless?” “We can’t protect her forever. She has to walk her own path,” I said coolly. After another ten minutes of bickering, Charlotte burst back into the house, looking frantic. She immediately dropped to her knees in front of me. “Mom, I was in a hit-and-run accident! Please, you have to take the blame for me. Save me! I just got into Yale. My life is just beginning—I can’t go to prison!” Hearing those familiar words made my blood boil. I wanted to strangle her on the spot. In my previous life, I had been such a fool to take the blame for her. “Charlotte, don’t be afraid. Don’t worry,” I said, faking concern as I pulled her into my arms, comforting her. “Mom, will you help me?” she asked, her voice trembling, her eyes wide with fear. “Of course I’ll help you. You’re my precious daughter.” “I knew it! I knew you wouldn’t abandon me! I swear, when you get out of prison, I’ll make it up to you. I’ll be the best daughter.” “Prison? What prison?” I pushed her away, feigning surprise. “Mom, didn’t you say you’d help me? Didn’t you say you’d take the blame?” she asked, her voice full of confusion. “When I said I’d help, I meant I’d hire you the best lawyer. We’ll fight for leniency,” I said, smiling sweetly. Charlotte’s jaw dropped. “Emma, this is all your fault! If you hadn’t upset Charlotte, she wouldn’t have run off, and none of this would have happened. You should take responsibility and go to prison for her,” Jack said, his voice full of righteous indignation. “And why don’t you take the blame for your daughter, Jack? Listen, Charlotte, your father is just a stay-at-home dad. A few years in prison won’t be a big deal for him. But your mom? I run a company. I’m the one making the money. If I go to prison, who’s going to pay for your education?” Jack’s face turned beet red, and he had nothing to say. “Mom, Dad can’t take the blame for me. After I hit that woman, I got out of the car to check on her, but she grabbed my ankle. I screamed—she didn’t see me, but she definitely heard my voice.” I sighed and placed both hands on her shoulders. “Charlotte, you need to stop running from this. Take responsibility for what you did. Go turn yourself in. You’re still young, a few years in prison won’t ruin your life. And don’t worry, you’ll always have me. When you get out, you can work at my company.” Her mouth hung open in shock. How could the woman who once loved her more than anything suddenly seem so… indifferent?

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“Honey, let’s kill Mia.” Just as I was getting engrossed in my late-night novel, my mom, sleeping beside me, suddenly uttered these chilling words. And I am Mia. Since Dad works the night shift, I usually share a bed with Mom. We were sleeping back to back when I felt an icy chill run down my spine. I carefully turned my head to look at Mom’s side, which was shrouded in darkness. By the faint light of my phone, I could see her body rising and falling rhythmically, clearly sound asleep. Before I could make sense of what had happened, a wave of drowsiness washed over me. Leaving my phone screen on, I drifted off to sleep.

When I woke up, it was already late afternoon. “Sweetie, lunch is in the pot. Your dad and I had to go out for something.” Signed: Your loving Mom. Everything seemed normal, just like any other day. This made me think back to last night’s incident. Maybe I had imagined it? I had been staying up late reading novels, so perhaps it was just a hallucination? Thinking hard, I vaguely remembered it was around 2 AM. I was engrossed in a romance novel, moved to tears by the beautiful love story between the main characters, when I suddenly heard my mom’s voice. It wasn’t her normal speaking voice, but a deliberately hushed whisper, the kind used for secrets: “Honey, why don’t we kill Mia?” And I am Mia.

As I lifted the pot lid, a delicious aroma wafted out. Corn chowder, my favorite soup. But as soon as I tasted it, I noticed something odd. There was a strange bitter taste, along with a hint of rust. Looking closer at the soup, I saw tiny gray particles floating on the surface. It looked like some kind of soil.

Suddenly, I remembered an urban legend. On Halloween, if you cook a dead person’s ashes with a living person’s blood, make the blood donor drink it, and light a candle, the dead person’s spirit can possess the living person’s body.

Halloween had just passed a few days ago, and I was on my period. It’s gross to say, but it would have been easy to get my blood. The more I looked at the soup, the more unsettling it seemed.

Should I take a picture and ask some experts online? I took out my phone, about to snap a photo. “Click—” An unusual sound came from outside the door. “Click click click—” The door seemed to be stuck and wouldn’t open. The person outside appeared very impatient, repeatedly pushing and pulling the door. The force was so great that the entire door was shaking. I stared at the door in terror, my mind flashing with scenes of murderers breaking in from countless horror movies. “Bang—”

“Mia, why are you sitting there like an idiot?” Mom pushed open the door and came in. “Why aren’t you eating your lunch?” She looked at me suspiciously. “Hurry up and eat, I need to wash the dishes.” I don’t know if it was my imagination, but she seemed particularly anxious, constantly urging me to drink the soup.

I blurted out, “I think this soup has gone bad.” “Gone bad?” A dark look flashed across Mom’s eyes. “Let me see.” “Does it?” “It’s a bit sour. Did you accidentally use vinegar instead of water when making the soup?” Of course, I didn’t dare voice my real suspicions, so I made up an excuse.

he leaned in close to the bowl, taking a perfunctory sniff before setting it down. “No, your dad and I just ate some, it’s fine.” “Hurry up and eat.” She pushed the soup back towards me. I shook my head firmly. “What if it’s spoiled?” “You guys shouldn’t eat questionable food either.” “You’re so picky.” “If you don’t believe me, try it yourself. It really is sour.” “Forget it,” Mom ignored me, looking displeased. “If you don’t want to eat it, I’ll just throw it out.”

Normally, my mom wouldn’t even throw away a half-rotten apple. Even if food was visibly spoiled, she’d insist on tasting it first. Why was she so quick to discard this soup? I felt an inexplicable sense of unease. It was just a pot of soup, after all. I shook my head, trying to dismiss these ridiculous thoughts.

After going out for a run and taking a shower, I was comfortably lying in bed. I took out my phone, planning to play a game. Suddenly, I felt something cold on my nose. I figured my allergies were acting up again. I sniffled hard, and the next second, I tasted a strange salty, metallic flavor in my throat. That’s not right, mucus doesn’t taste like this. Confused, I instinctively touched my nose—ice-cold, bright red liquid stained my fingers.

My first thought was that I had a nosebleed from overexertion. I tilted my head back, trying to stem the flow. But the next moment, plop plop plop, blood drops fell on my face like rain. One drop even landed right in my eye, making it impossible to open.

It was then that I noticed a colorful flying squirrel hanging from the ceiling. Its belly had been sliced open by the decorative wire of the ceiling lamp, its body dangling and swaying in the air. Blood was steadily dripping from where its body met the wire, with half its intestines hanging down, nearly touching the floor. A few disgusting green flies buzzed around, and the stench of decay filled my nostrils.

“Spotty!” I cried out in shock. This was my pet flying squirrel of three years. How did it end up there? Flying squirrels are intelligent animals, very cautious of unfamiliar places. How could it have gotten caught and died on the ceiling lamp wire?

Spotty had been by my side ever since I graduated college and moved back home. But now, its once soft body was split open by the wire, its internal organs blackened and rotting, its death horrifically gruesome and bizarre. What was going on?

“What are you doing? Why are you shouting?” “Why is your face covered in blood?” Mom pushed open the door. Without a word, she grabbed a towel and started roughly wiping my face. “Spotty…” I mumbled. “That old rat? Good riddance, it was creepy anyway,” she said coldly.

“How did it get up there?” “How should I know? Doesn’t it fly? Maybe it crashed into something and died,” Mom dismissed carelessly. “Look at it yourself, it was hanged by the wire. Besides, no matter how well it could fly, it wouldn’t end up like this.”

Mom shoved me aside, revealing a cold and fierce expression. “Fine, I get it! How annoying! It’s already dead, what can you do about it?” “It’s just a rat, why are you making such a big fuss?” “If I kill a cockroach tomorrow, are you going to hire a funeral procession for it?”

My heart slowly turned cold. It must have been Mom who did this! She had always disliked having pets in the house and had threatened to get rid of Spotty several times.

I could almost imagine her grabbing Spotty from its cage, grinning maliciously as she wrapped the wire around its belly layer by layer until it was split open and bleeding. The scene was horrifyingly gruesome. Suddenly, I had a chilling realization. Was what I overheard a few nights ago real? If my parents really wanted to kill me, it would make sense for them to practice on Spotty first.

I turned off the lights and lay in bed. Suddenly, I heard a faint rustling sound from the doorknob—the very soft sound of a key turning. I have a habit of locking my door at night. My parents have always kept a spare key to my room, but they’ve almost never used it.

“Click—” The door lock was opened. Then I heard very slow, eerie footsteps. Someone had come in! The old wooden floorboards creaked under their steps. They seemed to be moving very carefully, trying not to make any noise. But I could clearly feel them slowly approaching.

The air seemed to stand still. I held my breath nervously. My heart was pounding in my chest. I kept my eyes tightly shut, not daring to move a muscle. The person came closer and closer until I could almost hear their breathing.

Suddenly, I sensed a flash of light pass in front of my eyes. A long, cold light. A sense of dread washed over me. I opened my eyes just a tiny crack.

An eerily gleaming knife blade was pointed right at me, less than four inches from my face. If it moved down even slightly, I would be decapitated.

Without time to think, I screamed and ducked under the covers. “What’s wrong, Mia? You were sleeping so soundly, did you have a nightmare?” “Dad?” “What are you doing here?” I quickly rolled to the side, wrapping myself tightly in the blanket and eyeing him warily.

“I told you she was pretending to sleep,” Dad turned and smiled at Mom, who was now leaning against the doorway. But for some reason, his voice sounded sinister and creepy. “Your mom and I had a bet about whether you were asleep. I said you definitely weren’t.”

“Want to get up and have some watermelon? We just bought some.” Only then did I notice Dad was holding a fruit knife. I relaxed slightly: “No thanks, you guys go ahead. I need to sleep, I have work tomorrow.” They looked at me for a moment, then left without saying anything. Lying in bed, I was wide awake. Thinking back on recent events, everything started with that overheard sleep-talking. Could what I heard that night be true? I tossed and turned, unable to fall asleep until the middle of the night. I got up to get a glass of water from the kitchen. But something felt off. It was like I had forgotten something important. Standing alone in the living room for a long while, I suddenly realized— There was no watermelon in the kitchen at all! I even checked the fridge again, but there weren’t even any leftover watermelon rinds!

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My boyfriend’s uni mate got into trouble with loan sharks. I tried to stop him from getting involved, but I never imagined that she’d be pushed to the brink and take a bottle of sleeping pills to end her life. My boyfriend carried on as if nothing had happened, and we were preparing for our wedding. Until one night, when he was drunk, he caressed her photo tenderly and forced me to swallow an entire bottle of sleeping pills. He told me that it was my cold-heartedness, my selfishness, that had driven her to take her own life. If I had the chance to live again, I would never interfere in their mess. “Darling, how much money do you have left? Sophie’s family is in trouble again. You know we’ve always been close, and those people said if she doesn’t pay up today, they’re going to take her away and sell her off.” I blinked, still caught in a daze, the lump in my throat not yet gone when a large hand tugged at my sleeve. I had come back to life, back to the very day Tom Shaw was running around, borrowing money for Sophie White. Sophie was his uni mate—sweet and delicate, just like her name suggests. She was soft-spoken, with perfectly drawn features. But she had a father who gambled away everything. Word was he’d racked up an impossible debt over the years and ended up killing himself when he couldn’t repay it, leaving behind a beautiful daughter constantly hounded by loan sharks. To be fair, Tom had always been good to me. Everyone knew he loved me more than life itself. So, in my previous life, when Tom was scrounging for money for Sophie, saying she was like a sister to him and he couldn’t stand to see her in such a mess, I didn’t suspect a thing. But Sophie’s father owed over eight million pounds. That kind of money isn’t easy to come by, especially since those loan sharks were criminals. If Tom got too involved, he might lose more than just money—he could lose his life. Of course, I didn’t want my soon-to-be husband getting mixed up in that, so I gave him my savings, but on one condition: he had to stop helping Sophie and focus on our wedding. But I never expected Sophie to take sleeping pills and end her life. When I heard the news, I felt genuinely sorry for her. A young girl, barely out of her teens, with such a tragic fate. Tom only showed a brief moment of sadness. He didn’t say much to me about it. But what I could never have imagined was that he’d kill me for Sophie. Now, looking at Tom, who stood anxiously in front of me, all I could hear in my mind were his words before I died. “I told you, Sophie and I weren’t what you thought we were. Why, why couldn’t you just help her!” “Your family is well-off, aren’t they? You people with money would never understand this kind of desperation. Lucy Thompson, you’re such a cold-hearted, selfish person!” “You could stand there and watch her die, and you still expect me to marry a woman with a heart of stone like yours? People with money—none of you are any good!” I couldn’t help but laugh. My family, with its multimillion-pound income, had only one child—me. My parents never approved of Tom, who came from a modest background. They wanted me to marry someone who was our equal, but I was hopelessly in love with Tom. They cut off my finances, hoping I’d eventually give in. But Tom had grown so bitter towards me for not asking my parents to save his dear Sophie. Eight million pounds. Was I really expected to sell everything and sacrifice myself for him and his precious Sophie?

Seeing me silent, Tom cupped my face with an intensity I once loved. Now, that same touch made my skin crawl. “Darling, you know me. I just want to help her because I feel sorry for her. You know Sophie is sweet. She even said she likes you.” I brushed his hand away, my voice cold. “My parents cut me off ages ago to be with you. Where exactly am I supposed to get this money you need?” Tom didn’t seem to notice the sarcasm in my voice. “Darling, you’re an only child. Just explain the situation to your parents. They’ll help you, won’t they?” I asked him flat out, “Do you like Sophie?” There was a flicker of guilt in his eyes, quickly replaced by composure. “Of course not, darling. Everyone knows you’re the only one I love. Sophie’s just a close friend. I only want to help her because she’s in a difficult spot. Don’t overthink it.” I stood up and didn’t even look back at him. “She’s your friend, not mine. I have no obligation to fix her family’s problems.” Tom’s brow furrowed. “Lucy, you’ve always been so kind. Why are you suddenly so heartless? You’ve got money. Your parents are still alive and well. But Sophie—her mum died when she was little, and her father left her with all this mess. How can you be so indifferent?” As he spoke, he pulled out his bank card, didn’t say another word to me, and walked straight out the door towards Sophie’s house. I couldn’t believe the nerve of him, using guilt and moral blackmail to make me feel responsible for Sophie’s troubles, as if I were the villain in this story. I calmly packed my bags and sent him a text: We’re over. Then I blocked him from everything. Let’s see how long he lasts without my support this time around. Right now, Tom’s company was at a critical stage of development. In my past life, I begged my parents for help, drank so much at business dinners that I ended up with a stomach ulcer—all for him. And what did I get in return? Did he even really love me? On all those nights when we were so close, was he thinking of me, or his poor Sophie?

I returned home with my suitcase. My parents were visibly shocked to see me. My dad crossed his arms and scowled. “If you’re back because of him, don’t even bother coming in. Your mum and I are sick of it.” Seeing my parents, both healthy and still in their prime, made my eyes well up with tears. In my previous life, after Tom killed me, what kind of despair must they have felt when they saw my body? Overcome with emotion, I broke down at the door. My mum nudged my dad and frowned. “This is your fault, speaking so harshly. Look at her, she’s in pieces.” I buried myself in my mum’s arms and cried until I couldn’t anymore. The regret, the anger—everything came pouring out. “There, there, our darling girl. What happened? Did that Tom Shaw hurt you?” I nodded. “I broke up with him. I don’t love him anymore. I just want to come home.” The look on my parents’ faces was a mix of disbelief and joy. It was almost comical. As if afraid I might change my mind, my dad asked cautiously, “You mean for good, right? No getting back together?” I laughed through my tears and nodded. Then I told them everything. My parents were furious. “I told you that Tom wasn’t a good guy,” my dad said. “What kind of man runs a business and needs his fiancée to handle all the social events? You did all that for him, didn’t even come home, and he had the nerve to blame you?” I couldn’t help but feel guilty under their gaze. How on earth did I lose myself so completely over a man in my last life? “Well, you’re home now, and that’s all that matters.” Mum gently patted my back, comforting me just like when I was a child. After the whirlwind of events that day, I was exhausted and quickly fell into a deep sleep. When I woke up the next day, it was already noon. I opened my phone to find twenty missed calls from Tom, and a new post from Sophie on her Facebook. In the picture, she was sitting in Tom’s car, her eyes red from crying as he tenderly wiped away her tears. The caption read: No matter what happens, you’ll always be by my side. Even though I had prepared myself for this, seeing it still made my heart ache. Tom and I had been together for six years. People joked that if we didn’t get married, they’d stop believing in love. But feelings change, don’t they? My phone buzzed with a message from Sophie. Lucy, I’m so sorry for posting that on Facebook. You know how complicated things are with my family right now. Tom was just looking out for me last night. I heard you broke up with him, but please don’t let it be because of me. I’d feel terrible if that were the case. I didn’t reply. This kind of passive-aggressive guilt trip didn’t deserve my time. She posts something like that and then sends me this message—what does she want me to do? Am I supposed to beg Tom to stay with me, or storm over to her house and slap her? Sophie White and Tom Shaw—two of the most despicable people I’d ever known.

I once saw a conversation between Tom and Sophie. You’re so good, Tom. Lucy’s so lucky to have you. Lucy’s so fortunate. A perfect family, a boyfriend who adores her. I wish I could have what she has. And Tom? He ate it up. He insisted she was like a little sister, always delivering her lunch or coffee. When my best friend Chloe heard that I’d broken up with Tom, she insisted on dragging me out to celebrate. Watching her burst with energy, I found myself in a surprisingly good mood. “You’ve no idea how much I hated Tom,” she said, laughing. “Since you got together with him, it’s like you forgot all about me. You’re the poster child for ‘love makes you blind’!” I wrapped an arm around her shoulders, smiling. “I know, I know. I was wrong. I was blind. Satisfied?” Chloe nodded, then pulled me through all the luxury stores. It struck me how much I’d changed since being with Tom. I’d lost touch with who I used to be, a woman who lived life on her own terms. But because his business was just getting off the ground and money was tight, I hadn’t gone shopping at any of my favourite stores in years. “Wait, isn’t that Tom?” Chloe exclaimed suddenly. I followed her gaze. There he was, walking with Sophie, dragging a suitcase behind him, acting suspicious. I didn’t want to get involved, but Chloe’s curiosity got the best of her, and she dragged me over to see what they were up to. They walked into a second-hand luxury store. A sneaking suspicion began to form in my mind. “Isn’t that the bag I got you for your birthday two years ago?” Chloe pointed to a high-end, limited-edition handbag in the shop. I frowned. When I left Tom’s place, I hadn’t packed everything. I’d planned to have a moving company pick up the rest. But here he was, selling my belongings for cash to help Sophie. I stormed into the shop. Tom saw me and immediately looked guilty, then quickly switched to relief. “Lucy! What are you doing here? Why haven’t you been answering my calls? I was going to explain everything—” Smack! I slapped him across the face. Tom’s eyes filled with shock. Sophie rushed over to check on him. “Lucy! How could you hit Tom? You—” Smack! I slapped her too. “Hitting you was just an afterthought.” Chloe stood by, grinning as if she were watching the best show ever. Everyone in the shop gathered around to see what was going on.

“Lucy Thompson, you witch! Why are you hitting Sophie? What has she done to deserve this? Why are you targeting her?” Tom pulled Sophie behind him, shielding her like a mother hen protecting her chick. I pointed at the bags on the counter. “You sold my bags without asking, didn’t you?” Tom’s face flushed. “I… I was only borrowing them. It’s not like I wasn’t going to give them back.” “Borrowing my bags? Funny, I don’t recall giving you permission. We’re not together anymore. This is theft.” “Lucy, you’re so shallow. They’re just handbags. You can buy more. But a life? You can’t replace that. Are you really going to stand by and watch someone die just because of a few designer bags? Does that make you happy?” Tom grew more and more worked up, acting like I was the villain here and not him. I marveled at how shameless he could be. “Are you really trying to guilt-trip me?” “Too bad—I don’t have a conscience.” People around us started whispering, and a few even took out their phones to film the scene. “First off, we’re over. Secondly, these are my bags. Lastly, if you want to help your precious Sophie, go right ahead. But what’s it got to do with me? Do you expect me to raise your future kids too?” Tom was speechless. He knew he was in the wrong. Seeing the crowd gathering, he must have realised this wouldn’t end well for him. Reluctantly, he muttered, “This one, this one, and that one—those are the bags I bought you. I have the right to sell them.” Chloe and I exchanged looks, our jaws practically on the floor. Since when do men reclaim gifts after a breakup? “Fine. Whatever.” I didn’t want to waste any more energy on him. I turned to the shop owner and said, “The rest are mine. Can you give me an estimate on how much they’re worth and wire the money to my account?” Tom’s company was struggling for funds. There was no way he could scrape together the money to help Sophie, so here he was, resorting to this pitiful scheme. “Lucy, are you really breaking up with me? Think about it. You’re already 28. Don’t you know how old you are? If you break up with me now, who else would want you? You should be asking your parents for five hundred grand to pay off Sophie’s debts, and then we can move forward with our lives.” He was so serious, as if breaking up with him would leave me penniless and hopeless. “Tom, you’ve lost it. Lucy is way out of your league.” Chloe chimed in, “Besides, my brother is 32, single, six-foot-two, and looks like a young George Clooney. Lucy without you? She’s going to do just fine. You can run along with your scheming little Sophie now.” With that, Chloe grabbed my arm, and we strode out without a backward glance.

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After entering college, I ignored the school rules. Gradually, I found that no one in the dormitory remembered me anymore. I screamed loudly in front of them, but they couldn’t hear me; I danced wildly in front of them, but they couldn’t see me. I hurriedly flipped through the group photos we had taken together in our dorm, wanting to prove my existence to them, But I accidentally discovered that there were two people I didn’t recognize standing next to me in the photos… My name is Rachel Lane, and I’m a sophomore in college. With my poor grades, I got into this low-ranking university. After arriving, I felt bored every day. At first, I could obediently follow the school rules and attend classes seriously. Later, I found it meaningless, so I skipped classes every day to sleep and play games in the dorm. That’s how I made it to sophomore year. One day, I got down from my bed to go to the cafeteria for food and found my roommates were all downstairs. I asked if they had eaten, but strangely, no one answered me. I walked away awkwardly. When I came back, I realized I had forgotten my key. So I knocked on the door, hoping my roommate would open it for me. After a while, the door opened. It was Samantha, the head of our dorm. I thanked her. But she seemed not to see me and said to the other two in the dorm, “How strange, someone knocked but there’s no one here.” I thought they were playing a game with me, so I went along with it and said, “Yeah, because I’m a ghost!” Still, no one responded to me. I felt weird and said, “Have you had enough? I admit your acting is very good. Hey!” I raised my voice and shouted at them. Next, I made faces and jumped around in front of them, but they still ignored me. “I suddenly realized that I haven’t seen Rachel all day,” one of them said. “Maybe she’s sleeping up there again. She played games all night last night!” “But she can’t skip meals. I’ll go call her!” Samantha called out to my bed. I climbed up to my bed, thinking that if they couldn’t see me when I actively moved around in front of them, maybe they could see me if they actively came to find me. Samantha pulled open my bed curtain and saw me looking expectant. She couldn’t help but smile. “Get up, it’s time to eat!” Thank God, they could finally see me. I couldn’t help but hug Samantha, forgiving them for their earlier game. But gradually, I found that no one in the dormitory remembered me anymore. I screamed loudly in front of them, but they couldn’t hear me; I danced wildly in front of them, but they couldn’t see me. I confirmed that they weren’t acting, but really couldn’t see me. Only when they actively wanted to find me could they see me. But slowly, even when they wanted to find me, they could barely remember my name… I hurriedly flipped through the group photos we had taken together in our dorm, wanting to prove my existence to them. But I accidentally discovered that there were two people I didn’t recognize standing next to me in the photos…

I was startled. Who were they? Why were they in the group photo with us? I saw a note next to the photo: “303, a family of six!” So, our dorm originally had 6 people! I broke out in a cold sweat. Perhaps two people, like my recent situation, had gradually been forgotten by others, as if their existence had been erased. I walked out of the dorm room and found that my name on the nameplate at the door had faded, as if it was about to disappear. There was a blank space under the words on the nameplate, as if two other names had once been written there. I also noticed places I had never paid attention to before. Throughout the dormitory building, there were 6-person, 5-person, 4-person rooms, and even 1-person rooms. Some dorms seemed to have disappeared, such as rooms 203, 502, and 409, which couldn’t be found. But no one found this strange, including my previous self, as if it was all normal. It seems this phenomenon wasn’t just happening in one dorm, but was widespread! But why was I being forgotten? Why did my other two roommates and some dorms in the building disappear? Suddenly, I looked up and saw a large warning sign in the dorm corridor. It listed the school rules: 1. Always remember your student identity and obey school rules; 2. Each person enters school with 50 initial credits, violating one rule deducts 2 points, severe consequences when all points are lost; 3. After lights out in the dorm, please lie down immediately, close your eyes, and no matter what happens, don’t open them; 4. Wake up at 7 am every day to listen to the principal’s speech in the auditorium, no sleeping or talking during this time; 5. No being late or leaving early for class, no sleeping or talking in class; 6. You can earn 2 credits by doing volunteer cleaning activities for the school; 7. No asking for leave or leaving school, good students persist in attending class even when sick~ 8. If you have any problems, find the counselor, although he may not help you; 9. The higher the grade, the greater the challenges, please be prepared. I recalled the scene of the first day I entered this school when many students saw these 9 rules. But everyone ignored these rules. We’re all college students now, how can we be managed so strictly? Is there any justice? Later, some students did violate these rules, but everyone saw that they didn’t seem to suffer any serious consequences, so gradually everyone became careless, and I was one of them. These school rules posted in plain sight every day were gradually ignored by everyone, but now they seemed very eye-catching on the wall. Combined with my recent experiences and discoveries, perhaps the severe consequences written in the rules were gradually being forgotten, then having one’s existence erased. Previously, people didn’t see any consequences for those who violated the rules, purely because everyone forgot about these people, until they themselves were erased from existence. I opened the school’s official website, which showed that my current credit score was 10 points. So the lower the credits, the closer one is to being forgotten by everyone and finally being erased from existence? I took a photo of these rules, planning to study them carefully back in the dorm.

For the next two days, I studied the school rules while constantly verifying them. Sure enough, as long as I violated the rules, my credits would automatically decrease, as if there was 24-hour monitoring on you. But as long as I followed the rules well, credits wouldn’t be deducted, but they wouldn’t increase either. As my score decreased, besides finding that I was being forgotten by people, many things that could prove my existence gradually disappeared, including photos, nameplates, and even my chat records in other people’s phones. Not only that, but I always heard someone knocking on the dorm door and windows when I slept at night. Then it felt like something was touching my feet, and there was a child’s wail in the distance. I was shaking with fear, but I didn’t dare open my eyes or call out to wake my roommates. Because I knew they could no longer hear my voice. Even if I called for help in any way, they couldn’t see or hear me, and couldn’t save me. I could only remember the rules and keep my eyes tightly closed. I tried to call for help, but I couldn’t remember my parents’ phone numbers or even what they looked like. I called the police, but couldn’t get through. I sent a message to the counselor saying I wanted to ask for leave to leave school, but he wouldn’t approve it no matter what. I was nearly breaking down, but I told myself I had to stay calm. Since I couldn’t get out, I had to ensure I wouldn’t disappear first. Currently, I only had 8 credits left. From now on, I must obey all the rules to ensure I don’t lose any more points, and I must also increase my credits! I went to find the counselor, thankfully he could still see me. I applied for a campus cleaning volunteer activity. He smiled, his mouth corners stretching to his ears, showing all his teeth. I saw some red liquid on his teeth and couldn’t help but shudder. He said unclearly, “Rachel, it’s you again. Not bad, not bad. For so many years, only you have been doing this consistently…” He rambled on about many things I couldn’t understand, and finally let me take the cleaning tools to find Old Joe the gardener. I didn’t have time to think deeply about the strangeness in his words. I grabbed the cleaning tools and ran towards the large lawn at the back of the school. The grass was overgrown here, with only Old Joe cutting it with a sickle. I told him who I was, but he didn’t say a word, just handed me a note that read: Volunteer content: Clear all the weeds and clean up everything that shouldn’t be here. During the volunteer work, no matter what happens, you cannot run away, or points will be deducted! Also, volunteer activities add 2 credits per hour, no more. Looking at my precarious credit score, I had no choice but to brace myself and start working. The activity wasn’t complicated, just very tiring. I kept clearing weeds and picking up trash non-stop. Suddenly I felt like I stepped on something. I looked down and saw it was an arm. My scalp tingled. The further I went, the more human limbs and body parts I found. By now it was dark. To earn more credits, I had been working for 3 hours since class ended. Hungry and exhausted, I started retching at the sight before me. At this moment, Old Joe walked over. His eyes were hollow, looking like a corpse in the moonlight. Then he said to me, “These things that shouldn’t be here need to be cleaned up too. Do it quickly, lights out in your dorm soon.” I stared with wide eyes, trembling as I said, “Joe, what’s going on here? Why not call the police?” Joe replied strangely, “Haven’t you cleaned this before? Don’t ask too much!” Forget it, nothing in this school surprises me anymore. After all, if they can erase people from existence, which is so unscientific, what else wouldn’t they dare to do? I just want to survive well first, then figure out what to do after ensuring I won’t disappear. I held my breath, forcing down the nausea as I cleaned up those things that shouldn’t be there. Before lights out in the dorm, I closed my eyes, but couldn’t sleep. Accompanied by those usual sounds and sensations tempting me to open my eyes, I kept replaying all the bizarre things that happened today. Why did the counselor and Old Joe seem to know me from before, when I had never sought them out before?

For the next few days, even though I was exhausted physically and mentally, I forced myself to wake up on time, obey school rules, and do volunteer work after class. I did 4 hours of volunteer work every day. Finally, after 5 days, I successfully added 40 credits, currently at 48 credits. Just 2 more credits and I’d be back to the initial credit score. Since I only needed to do 1 hour of volunteer work today, I came a bit later. On the 6th day coming to this lawn, it was still the same – cleared the day before, restored to its original state today. I couldn’t help but wonder about the meaning of this cleaning activity. But it didn’t matter, as long as I could add credits. In the evening, I returned to the dorm at 9 pm. My credits were now back to the initial 50 points. I was ecstatic because Samantha could now see me normally and hear me speak. Everything of mine was restored to its original state. My name on the nameplate at the dorm door was also restored. Samantha’s name and mine were on the left and right of the nameplate. Suddenly I thought of something and asked Samantha confusedly, “Samantha, is our dorm a two-person room?” “Hasn’t it always been? We’re almost done with sophomore year and you’re still asking?” she replied. My head hurt for a moment, then I nodded in affirmation. Yes, it’s always been two people. I don’t know why I just asked that. Oh right, there’s something more important! I took out my phone and called the police, reporting the school’s address. But they said there was no such school and warned me not to interfere with their work. What!? Why can’t the school be found outside? I tried to secretly climb over the school wall to escape, but it was useless. The school wall seemed ten stories high, impossible to climb over. I walked to the school gate and through the gaps in the iron bars, I saw that the outside was a blur. The security guards at the gate were tall and strong. Some held chainsaws, some held axes, staring at me with a pair of bloodshot, protruding eyes. I didn’t dare to act rashly. I wanted to ask other students for help, but I found their eyes were all very hollow, completely ignoring me. At this point, I thought of my roommate and quickly ran back to the dorm. On the way back to the dorm, I frowned, thinking, I live alone, where did the roommate come from? I still returned to the dorm. There was only one bunk bed with a desk underneath. I was more certain that only I lived in the dorm.

I still obediently followed the school rules, maintaining my 50 initial points. Since I couldn’t escape, and people outside couldn’t save me, I might as well follow the school rules well and be able to leave when the holiday comes, right? But I remember I haven’t been out for a long, long time. The school seems to have never had a holiday. I just became a sophomore. I went to ask the counselor when we could have a holiday. He still stared at me with that weird look, but there was no choice, the rules said we could only seek help from the counselor. He said unclearly, “No holidays, you’ll degenerate at home, won’t be good students anymore…” I asked again, “Sir, can we only leave after graduation?” He laughed loudly, the sound almost piercing my eardrums. After laughing, he said, “No one can persist until graduation… you degenerates!” I didn’t understand. Does it mean no one can leave? In the end, can everyone only be gradually erased from existence in this school? I must investigate this school well and find a way out. At 7 am, I woke up on time and went to the auditorium as usual to attend the principal’s speech. The content of the principal’s speech was the same every day: “Students, obey the school rules! Students, be good students! Students, listen to classes carefully! Students, …” The principal kept repeating these words, waving his hands as he spoke with great emotion, but his eyes were very small, so small they seemed to have disappeared, and only a mouth was speaking on his entire face. When I noticed this, I instantly broke out in a cold sweat. But every student around me didn’t find it strange. They stared blankly at the principal with hollow eyes. At the end of the speech, the principal suddenly announced that the students present had been promoted to junior year. After that day, I often felt more and more like a walking corpse. Numbly obeying school rules, my mind was in a fog, always feeling like I had forgotten something. I suddenly realized that the longer I stayed in this school, the easier it was to lose consciousness, become numb, and finally forget who I was. This perfectly proved the last rule of the school: the higher the grade, the greater the challenges indeed became as we stayed in school longer, but this challenge seemed to let no one win. The school made those who didn’t obey the rules be forgotten by others, and made those who obeyed the rules forget themselves. It seems that obeying the rules can’t guarantee that I can leave either. Is it destined that coming to this school means we can’t leave and will eventually disappear?

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My husband’s ex-girlfriend secretly donated a kidney to me. After the surgery, her health declined rapidly, and my husband took care of her with overwhelming attentiveness. Then, standing on his moral high ground, he scolded me, “Nina, she ended up like this because of who? Can’t you be a little more understanding?” Endless arguments followed, and I eventually wasted away from the emotional exhaustion. When I opened my eyes again, I had returned to the moment right before my kidney transplant surgery. I immediately pulled out my oxygen tube, “I’m not going through with the surgery. I’m giving up on treatment.” I never imagined that after my death, my husband would go insane. 1 The overhead fluorescent light flickered, making me dizzy. The sound of the doctor’s voice announcing the countdown to the kidney transplant echoed in my ears. I suddenly realized I had been reborn. Without hesitation, I pulled the oxygen tube out. Struggling, I sat up on the operating table, “Dr. Lucas, I’m not going through with the surgery. I’m giving up treatment.” Dr. Lucas was shocked, repeatedly emphasizing that my body couldn’t afford to wait any longer and that if I missed this chance, I might not find another matching donor in time. I thanked him, but I remained firm. Dr. Lucas sighed in resignation and notified everyone to cancel the surgery. After signing the organ donation consent form, I returned to the Downtown Loft I shared with Ryan. I started packing my bags. I had been diagnosed with kidney failure in the second year of our marriage while we were trying to conceive. At that time, Ryan and I were constantly at odds because of Claire Young. I thought having a baby might bring us closer, but instead, I received the terrible news about my health. Strictly speaking, Claire wasn’t really Ryan’s ex-girlfriend. She appeared in his life while I was abroad pursuing my ballet career, and they never officially became a couple. Back then, I was ambitious and determined not to give up my career for love. And I succeeded, becoming the principal dancer of the Joffrey Ballet in just two years. When I returned, I found out Ryan had been waiting for me all those years. His devotion moved me beyond words, and memories of our time together as students filled me with warmth. I accepted his proposal. It was only after we married that I learned about Claire Young. I discovered they had nearly become a couple, but my return to the U.S. had torn them apart. Because of my upbringing, I’ve always been sensitive and insecure in relationships. Ever since learning about Claire, I couldn’t sleep at night, and the arguments between Ryan and me grew more intense. I questioned him, asking why he claimed to love me but still had feelings for someone else. He accused me of being unreasonable and making things up. As the fights escalated, Ryan started working late just to avoid coming home. It wasn’t until I sought help from a therapist that I realized I still loved Ryan, this man who had been such a huge part of my youth. So I called him and asked him to come home. That night, he rushed back, embracing me as if he never wanted to let go. He promised he would transfer Claire to another city and focus on our marriage from then on. It was around that time I went for a check-up, planning to start preparing for a baby. Later, the doctor told me they had found a matching kidney donor. The donor wished to remain anonymous and didn’t want to reveal their identity. I understood. But I never imagined that person would be Claire. The day after my surgery, Ryan sat by my bedside with red eyes and told me we owed Claire a huge debt. From that point on, he showered her with care and attention. I couldn’t show any dissatisfaction. If I did, I’d be seen as ungrateful—a heartless woman. I could only watch as Claire slowly took Ryan away from me. I was powerless to stop it. In the end, I wasted away from the stress. When I died, Ryan stayed by Claire’s side, refusing to leave her for a moment. This time, I’ve chosen to let them be. To free myself. 2 I had lived in the Downtown Loft for two years, and packing took three suitcases. I sat on the couch, waiting. By 11 PM, Ryan still hadn’t come home. I called him. He answered almost immediately. But on the other end, it was Claire’s voice, “Mrs. Carter, is there something you need from Mr. Carter? He’s exhausted from back-to-back meetings and fell asleep at the office.” Claire had just undergone the kidney transplant surgery in Chicago—I knew that. But I didn’t expect her to head straight to Ryan’s office after getting off the operating table. She really did love him. I spoke calmly, “It’s nothing important. Just let him know when he wakes up.” “I’ve left the divorce papers on the dining table. Tell him to sign them when he has the time.” Claire gasped in shock on the other end of the line, her excitement barely concealed. Before she could say anything else, I hung up. I moved back to my Gold Coast Apartment, the one I’d bought before we were married. I thought Ryan would come looking for me, or at the very least call to discuss the divorce. But, as it turned out, I was overthinking it. There was no word from him. His phone had even been turned off. With no other choice, I went to his office. To my surprise, the receptionist informed me that Ryan had been in a car accident three days ago. His phone had been smashed, and he hadn’t had a chance to replace it. He had just undergone surgery and was now out of danger. My first reaction wasn’t worry, but amusement. I had been diagnosed with kidney failure and hadn’t told him. He got into a car accident, and I didn’t know. This marriage had clearly run its course. I drove to Northwestern Memorial Hospital, and sure enough, I ran into Claire outside the Private Suite. She was dressed casually, with perfectly applied makeup, radiating friendliness. I glanced toward the hospital room, “Is Ryan not here?” “Mr. Carter’s getting some tests done. He should be back in about an hour.” Claire’s expression turned cold as she closed the door to the suite. “Why don’t you head home?” Her disdain for me was clear. I smirked. “Claire, you can play the part of Mrs. Carter all you want after the divorce. But right now, you’re still not qualified.” Claire frowned, her voice dripping with sarcasm, “Is that all you’ve got?” She paused for a moment, then smirked, bragging, “Did you know, when Ryan was unconscious and being rushed to the hospital, he was calling out my name the entire time? That’s why the hospital called me and not you, Mrs. Carter.” She bit hard on the words “Mrs. Carter,” her tone heavy with ridicule. In the past, hearing this would have sent me into a rage. But after all the arguments and silent treatments, I no longer cared. I was dying anyway—what did it matter what she said? I remained calm, pulled out the divorce papers from my bag, and handed them to her, “In that case, could you give this to your Mr. Carter? Have him sign and return them when he gets the chance.” As I spoke, I watched Claire’s face change. She grabbed my wrist, trying to make me slap her with the papers. The divorce papers scattered everywhere, and Claire turned her head to the side, dramatically covering her face with her hand, feigning pain. I winced from the sharp pain in my wrist, sucking in a breath. Before I could react, Ryan’s cold, angry voice came from behind, “Apologize.” 3 Ryan stormed over and immediately pulled Claire behind him, shielding her. Claire shot me a triumphant smile. She was claiming her territory. I could feel my blood boiling. I didn’t care who Ryan wanted to protect, but if Claire thought she could openly frame me, she was mistaken! I coldly bent down to pick up the divorce papers, walked right up to Claire, and slapped them against her face again. Ryan moved to stop me, but it was too late. I glared at Claire fiercely: “See it clearly? Next time you try to frame me, at least make it convincing!” Claire’s face flushed red on one side. Tears welled up in her eyes as she looked pitifully at Ryan. “Ryan, I didn’t…” Ryan’s brow furrowed deeply, and he pulled Claire even further behind him. His eyes pierced through me: “Can you leave her out of this? Why are you acting like a lunatic?” “I’ve heard this a thousand times before,” I replied calmly, unfazed. “If you don’t want your assistant to be hurt again, just sign the divorce papers.” Ryan’s face was tense with anger, but after a moment, he turned to Claire with a professional tone: “Sorry, my wife didn’t mean it. Consider this a workplace injury. Keep your receipts, and the company will reimburse you.” “You’ve worked hard these past few days. You can head home now.” “Thank you, Mr. Carter.” Claire gave a soft, grateful reply before gathering her things and leaving the room. Once she was gone, I followed Ryan into the suite. The moment we stepped inside, he pulled me into his arms, burying his face in my neck: “Nina, don’t you have any compassion? That night, I woke up to see you had been calling me repeatedly, saying you wanted a divorce. I panicked, speeding home, and ended up in the car accident.” “And now you don’t even visit me in the hospital. You still want to go through with the divorce.” His voice broke as he clung to me like a lost puppy: “Nina, please, have mercy on me.” 4 I should feel pity for him, right? But who pities me? And fine, if he wants to blame me for the car accident, I’ll accept it. But what did he mean by saying I didn’t come to the hospital because I was being difficult? My blood started to boil. Ryan, however, ignored my growing frustration and leaned in, trying to kiss me. Suddenly, an image of Claire in his arms from my previous life flashed through my mind. Disgust churned inside me, and I pushed him away violently. I ran to the bathroom and vomited, my body shaking with revulsion. When I came back out, Ryan’s face had turned icy cold. “Nina, do I disgust you that much? You can’t even pretend for a moment!” “If you need someone, go find your precious Claire,” I shot back, my voice as cold as his. “She’s sweet and considerate—everything I’m not, right?” I cut him off before he could respond, thrusting the divorce papers at him again. “Just sign the papers. The sooner, the better.” Ryan was at a loss for words, his anger barely contained. After a tense silence, he forced himself to explain, his voice tight with frustration: “I’ve told you a thousand times, Claire is just an employee. There’s nothing between us, Nina. Why can’t you believe me?” I looked up at him, eyes blazing, and his tone softened in response. “Nina, I’m recovering from an accident here,” he pleaded, reaching out for my hand. I instinctively pulled away. He took a deep breath, his frustration visible, but he still knelt in front of me, trying to calm me down. His eyes were full of sincerity. I stared at him, a bitter feeling rising in my chest. In my past life, he had apologized countless times for Claire, explaining himself and asking for forgiveness. And every single time, I had forgiven him. But what did I get in return? Every time Claire and I clashed, he took her side, standing against me. As a woman, I saw through Claire’s games clearly. I knew exactly what she was doing. But Ryan always thought I was the one being unreasonable, that I was the one stirring up trouble. This wouldn’t change, no matter how many lives I lived. I was exhausted. “Ryan, let’s just stop this.” “Three days from now, I’ll be waiting at the Cook County Clerk’s Office. If you don’t show up, I’ll have no choice but to take legal action.” I didn’t want to die being labeled as “Ryan Carter’s tragic widow.” Without another word, I turned and walked out. Behind me, I heard his voice crack, filled with frustration and vulnerability: “Nina, why are you always so rash? Do you know how unfair you’re being to me?” I had never heard him sound so fragile before. 5 Three days passed, and I stood outside the Cook County Clerk’s Office, but Ryan never showed. I called my lawyer immediately and initiated divorce proceedings. My health was deteriorating fast, and I couldn’t afford to wait any longer. That afternoon, after returning from the hospital, I found Ryan standing angrily outside my Gold Coast Apartment. His lips were pressed into a tight line, his entire posture radiating tension. Claire was standing behind him, her eyes red and swollen, the clear imprint of five fingers on her pale cheek. When she saw me, she instinctively shrank back, as if afraid I might hit her again. I raised my eyebrows, annoyed. “Really? Trying this trick again? Didn’t get enough the last time, huh?” “Nina, enough!” Ryan exploded, shouting at me with a mix of fury and disappointment. “You’ve crossed the line—vandalizing my car, hiring people to harass me, hitting Claire? Do you realize you’re breaking the law?” He started listing my supposed offenses, as if I were some criminal mastermind. Honestly, if he and Claire hadn’t shown up at my door, I wouldn’t even have known I’d committed so many “crimes.” I opened my mouth to throw back a snarky remark, but Claire beat me to it, interrupting in tears: “Mrs. Carter, Ryan and I are only work colleagues.” “I come from a difficult family background. I worked hard, studied hard, and finally managed to make something of myself. I don’t want to go back home.” “I’ll resign if it helps. Please, just let me go.” As she spoke, she started to kneel down in front of me, but Ryan pulled her up quickly, his face burning with anger as he turned to me. “Look at what you’ve reduced her to. Is this what you wanted?” He stood there, looking at me with the same disappointed, angry eyes I’d seen countless times before. It was as if I was back in my previous life, being endlessly blamed for things that weren’t my fault. And once again, Claire played the victim perfectly. I had seen this too many times. Claire’s innocent act was something Ryan never seemed to see through. My body was already wracked with pain, and now, my anger added to the suffering, tightening my chest. I glared at both of them, my voice sharp. “You two come here, invade my space, then ask me if I’m satisfied? Ryan, are you out of your mind?” “If you really believe I did all this, call the cops. Let the law deal with me.” “But stop pretending you’re on some moral high ground, looking down on me. It’s disgusting!” I gasped for breath as the pain wracked my body, but I managed to give them a final ultimatum: “Now, get out of my home before I call the police myself.” Ryan looked like he had more to say, but Claire gently tugged on his sleeve, urging him to let it go. With fury in his eyes, he turned to me, spitting out his final words: “Nina, don’t think I don’t know what you’re doing. You’re just trying to push me into a corner so I’ll divorce you!” “Fine, divorce it is. I’ll do it. Let’s just say I loved the wrong person all these years.” He turned and stormed off. Claire followed, but not before casting me a smug, triumphant glance, like she had finally won. Tears welled up in my eyes, and my chest ached with frustration. How dare Ryan say that? The truth was, I was the one who had loved the wrong person all along. 6 That very night, Claire moved into the Downtown Loft that Ryan and I had shared. She even recorded a video and sent it to me. Every word she spoke in the video dripped with pride and smugness. Without a flicker of emotion, I took screenshots of her messages, packaged them neatly, and sent them to Ryan’s email. I scheduled them to go out two days later. Ryan and I had agreed to meet the next day to finalize our divorce. I planned to sever all ties with him before showing him Claire’s true colors. I wanted him to regret it, to suffer. He owed me that much.

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The house I bought before marriage was set for redevelopment,so I rushed home to tell my husband the good news. But instead,I found him walking in with his pregnant mistress. I filed for divorce at lightning speed,slamming my infertility report in front of him.“So,you enjoy raising someone else’s kids,huh?” I’m Juliah Johnson. Now,it’s been three years since I got married. My mother-in-law has been nagging me to have a baby,hoping for a big boy to carry on the family name.But three years have passed,and my belly hasn’t stirred at all. At first,I thought I was young and didn’t need to rush into having kids.But when my husband,David Smith,started feeling anxious,I thought maybe I should feel that way too. I tried all the home remedies my mother-in-law suggested and even made a special trip to the local neighborhood to see the most renowned alternative medicine practitioner to help me conceive. But nothing worked;I still hadn’t gotten pregnant. I started wondering if there was something wrong with my body,so I mentioned it to David and went to the hospital for a check-up. When the doctor returned with my results,looking a bit heavy-hearted,I feared there was something seriously wrong. But to my surprise,the doctor told me I was perfectly healthy and had no fertility issues. So why couldn’t I get pregnant? I began to wonder if perhaps there was an issue with David’s health.Maybe he should get checked out too. Just as I was thinking this,I received a phone call. It was the property management of the apartment complex where I bought my house before marriage.The voice on the line was slightly excited.“Juliah,we’re redeveloping the complex!Your house is quite large,and you can expect a payout of several million!” I was momentarily stunned.“Several million?” I had only spent less than two hundred thousand on that house!Now I could be getting so much money! I had never seen that much money in my life. I was so shocked that I forgot all about wanting a child and was filled with thoughts of those millions instead. “We’re redeveloping to build shopping malls and office buildings.It’s going to be prime real estate!Don’t worry;I’ve heard inside info that you’ll get at least two million!” The property manager sounded confident,saying the compensation would be available in a month or two. I was trembling with excitement.“Two million…” Keep in mind,that the one hundred thousand I used to buy the house was from working for seven or eight years,plus some help from my parents.It had been a struggle to afford it. After I renovated the house,I got married and moved into David’s home,never really living in mine. Three years had passed,and I had almost forgotten about that house,but now it brought me such a huge surprise. Suddenly,I wasn’t worried about having kids anymore.Since I had this unexpected windfall,why not take my parents and my mother-in-law on a trip to enjoy life together? Once we returned from the vacation,I could think about kids again. Raising a child costs so much,and with this money,I could give my future child a better life. I practically skipped home,eager to share the good news with David. But before I could tell him,an unexpected guest showed up. “Are you Juliah Johnson?” The woman stood a head taller than me,looking stunning with a confident posture,her eyes glinting with malice.

“And you are?” I was sure I had never met this woman before. “Juliah,right?Honestly,you’re just average-looking and have an ordinary figure.Do you think you deserve David?You should just get a divorce while you can.” Her tone dripped with contempt.“I don’t understand how David even looked at you.” “What do you want from me?” This woman had completely ruined my good mood,so I snapped back. “Who says I’m here for you?I’m here for David.” She walked right into my house as if it were her own,kicked off her high heels,and plopped down on the couch. She eyed me with an amused expression. “Are you dying to know what our relationship is?” There was a clear sense of schadenfreude in her gaze. To be honest,I had already entertained a possibility in my mind,but I didn’t want to believe it— that my husband David had cheated on me with this woman standing in front of me,flaunting her superiority. “Get out.This is my home.” No matter how patient I was,I couldn’t tolerate such provocation. Deep down,I still wanted to trust David. After all,we had built some trust over the years. I thought that kicking her out would make her leave,but instead,she chuckled at my attempt.“Juliah,you think you can kick me out?How amusing.” She casually picked up a cup from the table and took a sip.“And by the way,we don’t even know who the real mistress of this house is.” Her words were absolutely outrageous,and I felt anger rising in me. “By the way,my name is Lisa Brown.You’ll remember it for the rest of your life.” Lisa Brown,huh? I smirked.“Oh,really?” I dialed David’s number immediately.“Hey,there’s a woman named Lisa Brown here looking for you.” As soon as I finished,I could sense a hitch in David’s voice. “W-wife,don’t listen to her!She’s crazy!I’ll be home soon!” His voice was filled with panic. Suddenly,I wasn’t sure if my trust in David was well-placed. If David was truly innocent,why was he so frightened? Could it be that he really had cheated on me? My heart raced with anxiety. Meanwhile,Lisa was smirking at me,looking entirely too pleased with herself. “Juliah,you’ll find out soon enough that life can be a lot harsher than you imagine.” “How do you know your life is as great as you think?” I shot back without thinking. At that moment,the door burst open,and David rushed in.His eyes changed upon seeing Lisa. “What are you doing here?I told you not to disturb my family!” After he scolded her,he hurried over to explain to me that Lisa was a former coworker who had a crush on him,but he had never reciprocated. Seeing David so eager to explain eased my heart a bit. But Lisa’s next words sent my heart plummeting.“David,what does your explanation even matter?I have to tell you—” “I’m pregnant.”

David turned to her,stunned.“What did you just say?You’re pregnant?” “Yeah,”she said,running her fingers through her hair with an air of triumph.“While your wife can’t have kids,I’m carrying one of your family’s children.” “You’re really pregnant?” David’s expression was a whirlwind of emotions—joy,regret,and panic all rolled into one. He glanced between me and Lisa,gritting his teeth.“Is that really my child you’re carrying?” Hearing that made my eyes well up with tears. So it was true;Lisa wasn’t lying.David had been cheating on me all along! “David!You’re such a jerk!” I lunged at him,slapping him hard. David’s face turned from shock to anger as he held his cheek,turning his gaze to Lisa. Lisa,seeing my humiliation,laughed mockingly.“Of course,it’s not your child;who else could it be?I only have one man.” “Juliah,Juliah,I told you,we’re not sure whose house this will be in the future.” Lisa’s words ignited my fury.Knowing David had cheated and that there was now a child involved made me scream,“David!I want a divorce!” David seemed enraged at my outburst and struck me back. A man’s strength is different from a woman’s;he hit me hard enough to send me crashing to the floor. I slammed against the ground painfully. “Juliah,don’t you dare lose your mind!” He pointed at me,unleashing a torrent of insults before turning back to Lisa with eyes filled with tenderness.“Lisa,you’re really pregnant?Did you find out if it’s a boy or a girl?” “It’s a boy.The doctor said I’m having a boy.” When he heard it was a boy,David’s eyes lit up with excitement. “A boy!You’re having a boy!Our family will finally have a future!” His gaze toward Lisa softened in an instant. Then Lisa added another delightful piece of news,“I invested in a beauty salon and get a yearly payout of fifty thousand.David,you’ve always wanted to quit and start your own business,right?I can give you a hundred thousand to start.” After saying that,she kept glancing at me as if she were the victor and I was merely a loser. David had been thrilled about having a son. Now,learning that Lisa was willing to fund his business venture made him ecstatic. He joyfully hugged Lisa and kissed her.“Lisa!I love you.I’m going to divorce Juliah right away and marry you,giving you and the baby a proper name.” I stared at David in disbelief.Was the man I had been with all these years such a despicable person?Not only was he a cheater,but he was also disgusting. Thankfully,I hadn’t told David about the redevelopment yet. But I was shocked when Lisa said,“You two will definitely get divorced,but before that,I want Juliah to serve me like a maid!”

How could there be such shameless people in the world? Not only had she destroyed my family and become a mistress with a love child,but now she wanted me to serve her. “Dream on!” I shouted,“You lowly mistress!” David was completely blinded by thoughts of money and the child,and hearing me say that,he feared Lisa would be unhappy. He stormed over and kicked me.“Juliah,right now,Lisa is the most important person in our home.Whatever she says goes.If she tells you to serve her,you have to do it.” I glared at David.“Why should I listen to you?I want a divorce!” “You absolutely have to listen to me.If you don’t,think about your mother!” David’s tone was laced with a threat. I immediately understood what he meant. My mother had surgery last year,and the doctor was a friend of David’s.She had a recurrence and needed a second operation.If David instructed his doctor friend to do something— What would happen to my mom? No,the person I loved most in this world is my mom,and I can’t let anything happen to her! The only way out was to agree to him for now. “David,you’re truly a beast.You’re ruthless!” I looked at him with pure hatred. I realized I had been blind,placing my trust in the wrong person,which led to this miserable outcome. If I had seen through him earlier,perhaps none of this would have happened. When I learned about the redevelopment payout,I even thought of sharing that good news with him and helping him start a business. Now,I was incredibly thankful. So thankful I hadn’t called David to tell him about it. No matter how unwilling I was,I would have to serve Lisa in the coming days. But I secretly gathered plenty of evidence of David’s infidelity during our marriage,convinced it would come in handy. Meanwhile,I reached out to friends to find the most reputable doctors to expedite my mother’s transfer process. Soon,I would have money,and she could receive the best medical care. Lisa had been feeling quite triumphant lately;she moved into the master bedroom that David and I had shared,shoving me into the living room. The second bedroom was occupied by my mother-in-law. Yes,my mother-in-law knew everything—her son had cheated and had a mistress and a love child.But instead of feeling any guilt,she was excited to have a grandson,looking at Lisa with admiration every day. At that moment,I was helping Lisa wash her dirty underwear while she made snide remarks.“Oh,Juliah,your underwear isn’t clean enough.You should wash it a few more times.” As she spoke,she tossed her soiled underwear toward me. She closed the living room door behind her.It was freezing outside,and with the door shut,all the warmth vanished.I immediately felt a chill run through me. To top it off,I noticed the hot water was gone.I could guess who was behind it—Lisa,without a doubt. I held back my anger. I would hold on until my mother found a suitable doctor.Then I would make sure to slap both of them. But at that moment,I received a call from the hospital—not the one where my mother was undergoing surgery but from the place David and I had gone for our check-ups. They had my phone number on file. “Ms.Johnson,we couldn’t reach your husband,so we’re calling you.Your husband has been diagnosed with oligospermia and is infertile.Please come to the hospital to pick up the report when you have time.” When I heard that,I was completely stunned. So,the reason I couldn’t get pregnant for three years was that David had fertility issues. Wait a second—if David was infertile,then whose child was Lisa carrying?

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My mom wanted to marry me off to Lachlan Walker, the town’s simpleton, for money. I resisted with all my might and jumped into the deepest lake in the village. Lachlan lost his life trying to save me. I survived, only to be despised by everyone in the village. My brother died in a fight because he couldn’t afford school, my mom went crazy, and my dad threatened to beat me to death. In the end, I jumped into that lake again. When I woke up, I had been reborn to the day Lachlan came to my house to propose. Lachlan Walker was simple-minded but the best-looking man in town. His family had moved here five years ago, supposedly because a fortune teller said that if they lived in this town for six years, Lachlan would escape disaster and might even regain his senses. I learned all this in my past life when the whole village cursed me after Lachlan’s death. The Walker family had made significant contributions to the village and were highly respected in town. Now, Lachlan wasn’t dead yet, and I hadn’t become the village pariah. Lachlan walked through our broken doorway, a chicken in his left hand and a fish in his right. “Brynn, wife, for you!” he said. My mom took the items from Lachlan’s hands, grinning from ear to ear, and urged me to go for a walk with him. I had just woken up from my rebirth, my head spinning and memories jumbled. Before I could say anything, Lachlan grabbed my hand and pulled me outside. “Lachlan, be gentle!” I said. Hearing the anger in my voice, Lachlan apologized, “Sorry, wife!” Even though I had been reborn, even though Lachlan had saved me in my past life, I still rolled my eyes at him in disgust. “Who’s your wife?” Lachlan let go of me and started gesticulating wildly. “Brynn! Brynn! Wife!” My mom pushed me again, threatening me in a low voice, “The money for your brother’s wedding and your younger brother’s school fees all depend on you. Behave yourself, or I’ll beat you!” I shuddered. Worse than death was the beating and cursing from my whole family. Whenever I disobeyed, my dad would whip me with his belt, my mom would hit me with her slippers, my older brother would tie me up, and my younger brother would prick me with needles. In my past life, fearing to jump from one fire into another, I had jumped into the lake on the day Lachlan came.

Lachlan jumped up and down, shouting, “Brynn! Let’s go! Buy!” He pulled out some money from his pocket and waved it in front of me. I had barely gone to school, not even finishing elementary. I had never left the village and had only seen ten or twenty-dollar bills. I had never seen what a hundred-dollar bill looked like. Now Lachlan was holding hundred-dollar bills, saying he wanted to buy me things. It felt like a dream. My mom pushed Lachlan towards me, smiling, “Go on! Look how much Lachlan likes you!” Lachlan took my hand, and this time, I didn’t refuse. As we walked through the village, eyes were everywhere – curious, probing, and mostly mocking. “Only Rosemary would be willing to marry her daughter off to a simpleton like Lachlan Walker, and an outsider at that!” “Rosemary got two thousand dollars! She can pay for her eldest son’s wedding, send her youngest to school, and even fix up the house. What a great deal!” “Her dad’s always saying Brynn’s a money-losing proposition. Well, look at her now, earning big bucks for him! It’s just a shame for the poor girl, abused at home and now marrying a simpleton!” Rosemary was my mother’s name. What a beautiful name! Even with my limited education, I knew it was a pretty name, but my mother never bothered to give me one. The name Brynn, I had chosen for myself when I started elementary school. They only ever called me “Unlucky” or “Little bitch.”

Lachlan held my hand tightly and whispered in my ear, “Brynn, don’t be scared! I won’t bully you! I’ll take care of you!” Around us, people snickered, mocking the simpleton for wanting to take care of a wife. I looked at Lachlan, the words “I’ll take care of you” echoing in my ears. Even my parents, who had given birth to me, never bothered to take care of me. A few days after I was born, my mom got sick. The whole family clamored that I was a star of misfortune, bringing disaster to my mother as soon as I was born. They dumped me on my grandmother. My grandmother raised me for three years. I never spoke a word, and she called me unlucky, saying I couldn’t even talk. She sent me back. From then on, my life changed from occasionally going hungry to being hungry and beaten every day. “Brynn! Hot! Eat!” Lachlan pulled out a paper-wrapped package from his jacket. When he opened it, there was a steaming hot bread roll. I swallowed hard. At home, my youngest brother always ate first, then my older brother, then my parents, and finally me. By the time I finished washing clothes and doing chores, there was only a bit left at the bottom of the pot. I had never eaten anything hot, let alone a bread roll. “Really for me?” I asked, surprised and delighted, my stomach starting to growl. Lachlan nodded, pushing the bread towards my hands. “For Brynn, eat!” I took the bread and started eating, my mouth full, but still managing to give Lachlan a big smile. In my past life, on the day Lachlan came to my house, all I did was cry and run away. I never paid any attention to Lachlan. If I had eaten Lachlan’s bread in my past life, I might not have thought about jumping into the lake. Because the bread was so good! I had never eaten such delicious, warm bread before! I wanted to eat more in the future…

“Brynn Summers! What are you doing wandering around in the middle of the day?” Hearing this voice, I couldn’t help but tremble all over. I saw my older brother, Derek Summers, walking over. He immediately grabbed my arm, forcibly pulling me away from Lachlan. The remaining uneaten bread fell to the ground. Derek’s angry roar rang in my ears: “Oh! Not going home to do chores, but out here eating bread!” Derek stepped on the bread, crushing it to pieces, as if he wanted to crush my dreams along with it. “Brother…” I called out fearfully, “Mom told me to come out.” “Brynn Summers!” Derek continued to shout in my ear, his expression twisted, “Don’t think that just because you’re marrying a simpleton, you’ll be living the high life! Don’t forget, you’re my sister. You should always think of your family, got it?” Derek worked at the only distillery in town. Whenever his boss berated him at work, he would come back to beat and curse me, saying I was unlucky and that I had passed my bad luck to him since birth, causing him to have no money or status. But what did that have to do with me? I was just a child born with a mother but raised without one. “Don’t bully Brynn!” Lachlan pushed away Derek, who was grabbing me, and shielded me behind him, pointing at Derek’s nose and scolding, “You’re bad!” Derek raised his hand to hit Lachlan without a word. “Derek Summers! What are you doing?” “Derek, stop right now!” The town mayor and my mom came from different directions. Seeing this, Derek waved his hand, put on a smile, and said, “Good afternoon, Mayor! Mom, why are you out too? Haven’t you made lunch?” Usually, Derek would come home for lunch after work, and my mom would have food ready for him. If he went hungry, I would inevitably receive another beating.

“Derek Summers! If you want to beat your own sister, do it at home! Who do you think you are to hit Lachlan?” the mayor glared at Derek angrily. Lachlan was a frequent guest at the mayor’s house. From what my mom had said, he often gave money to the mayor. The roads in town were paved with that money, the school was built with it, and even the only distillery was constructed with those funds. Derek could beat me behind closed doors at home, but he couldn’t touch anyone from the Walker family in public. My mom looked at Derek, giving him a meaningful glance, completely ignoring me, showing no concern whatsoever. But I was used to it. “Mayor, he’s too much!” Lachlan pointed at Derek, then at me. “He hit Brynn! He’s bad!” The mayor nodded, “Yes, yes, Derek is bad.” He looked up at Derek, “Derek, why don’t you take your sister home? If you want to beat her, scold her, or teach her a lesson, do it at home!” I fearfully leaned closer to Lachlan. Derek must have been upset at work, and now, not having eaten lunch, he would definitely beat me when we got home. Lachlan protected me, “Don’t be afraid! Brynn! Come to my house!” Derek shouted, “You’re not even married yet! How can that be? Brynn’s coming home with me!” My mom reached out to grab me, “That’s right, Lachlan. You’re not married yet! This won’t do. Once your family sends the money, I’ll give Brynn to you right away!” My heart sank. So my mom hadn’t received the two thousand dollars yet! I couldn’t go with Lachlan! Knowing my mom’s nature, she wouldn’t let me go without getting the money. “Lachlan…” I looked at Lachlan longingly, really wanting another bite of that warm bread. The mayor spoke up, “Lachlan, go home and tell your parents that getting married costs money. There needs to be a wedding feast! Only then can Brynn become your wife and go home with you, understand?”

“I understand! I’ll marry Brynn! I’ll go get money!” I watched as Lachlan was convinced by their few words. I quickly grabbed him, “I have a couple of words I want to say to Lachlan in private!” The mayor looked at my mom, my mom looked at me, and I anxiously waited. “Brynn, speak! I’m listening.” Lachlan leaned his ear closer. I glanced at my mom and my older brother, finally getting my mom’s permission. I knew that even if I married Lachlan, they wouldn’t let me go. So, I whispered something in Lachlan’s ear. Lachlan nodded vigorously, looked at me once, and ran off. Then I was dragged home by Derek, my toes barely touching the ground as he gripped the back of my collar. Derek still beat me. This time he only hit places that others couldn’t see, then threw me into the cellar. This was a place I often stayed. Now, apart from a few dry sweet potatoes, there was nothing else, just darkness and dampness. “Mom, how could you marry her off for just two thousand dollars? It costs me eight thousand eight hundred to get a wife!” Derek’s voice came from above the cellar. “Eight thousand eight hundred could get you two wives! Red from the front village, her mom told me it would only cost four thousand eight hundred. Once the money’s there, she’ll be yours right away!” Ruby? Ruby was two years younger than me, only sixteen this year! Derek was already twenty-five after the New Year! Besides, Ruby said she wanted to go work in the city, to see a broader world, not to get married and stay here for life! When Ruby said this, there was a light in her eyes. I envied her fiercely, thinking how great it would be if I could go work in the city too, and escape my family! “Ruby? Ruby’s great! Ruby’s figure is so slim! Mom, let’s get Ruby! Hurry and bring Ruby over!” Derek exclaimed excitedly. “What’s the rush? Wait until Lachlan brings the betrothal gift, then I’ll bring Ruby back for you. These couple of days, don’t beat that dead girl too much, don’t cause any more trouble…” Their voices grew fainter, and I couldn’t hear anymore. In my past life, I didn’t marry Lachlan, my mom didn’t get the money, and Derek didn’t get a wife. But now I could barely save myself, how could I save Ruby? Did I have to die again?

I was starved for two days and two nights. I thought I was about to die when Lachlan came with two thousand dollars, bringing his dad and the mayor to marry me. Mr. Walker held two pieces of paper in his hand. Seeing how weak I looked, he angrily put the papers on the table, insisting that everyone in my family sign and put their fingerprints on them. My mom couldn’t read, so she handed the papers on the table to my older brother and asked the mayor, “What does this mean?” The mayor said, “Mr. Walker means that you’re marrying your daughter to his son. They’ll give you two thousand dollars, and from now on, your daughter will be part of their family, with no more connection to you.” My mom wasn’t happy about this: “Why? I gave birth to her and raised her! This is like selling my daughter!” My older brother looked at the black and white text, then pulled my mom aside to discuss. My dad was a true farmer, working in the fields all day. My younger brother had just started elementary school and needed money for many things, so our family had almost no savings left. That’s why my brother hadn’t been able to get married for so many years. My brother was determined to get Lachlan’s money. “I’ve discussed it with my mom. We’ll give this dead girl to you, no problem! But two thousand dollars is definitely not enough!” My brother held up one hand to Mr. Walker, “It has to be this much! Otherwise, no one’s taking her away!” Five thousand dollars? My brother had gone crazy for money! Five thousand dollars was enough for our family to live on for several years!

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “294708”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster #重生Reborn #现实主义Realistic #励志Inspiring #浪漫Romance #玄幻Fantsy #惊悚Thriller #魔幻Magic #校园School #擦边Steamy

I’m just an innocent little flower protected by my brother. The girl who bullies me likes my brother and wants me to introduce them. But she doesn’t know that my brother will kill anyone who has ever bullied me. My brother buries his face in my neck, breathing heavily. “Aria, you smell so good.” I tremble beneath him. “Let go of me.” He’s holding me too tightly. My brother laughs. “You’ll have to let go of me first, Aria.” “You’re gripping me so tightly down there, how can I let go?” He forces tears from my eyes. I frantically slap his shoulders. He reaches out to wipe away the tears from the corner of my eye, then sucks his finger into his mouth. “Aria, you look so beautiful when you cry.” “…”

I jolt awake from the dream, clutching my blanket tightly. How could I dream about doing that with my brother… I must be going crazy! It must be because of my condition that I… Suddenly, out of the corner of my eye, I see someone standing by my bed. My pupils constrict in fear. Isn’t the house supposed to be empty today except for me? Seeing that I’m awake, the person walks over to my bedside. As the moonlight falls on him, I finally make out his face. It’s my brother. But this doesn’t relax me at all. If anything, it makes me even more afraid. I know my brother is more terrifying than any psycho killer. Seeing my disheveled state, my brother reaches out to wipe my face. I don’t move. Even when his fingers trail from my cheek down to my collarbone and chest, I still don’t move. I don’t want to show weakness in front of him. It would only make him crazier. He raises his hand and suddenly yanks off the blanket. I hurriedly press my legs together. My brother laughs. “Aria, how can you still be wetting the bed at your age?” There’s a wet patch on the sheets. It’s not from wetting the bed, it’s… My face flushes red uncontrollably. My brother says: “Who were you dreaming about, Aria?” I choke out: “No one.” “Oh?” My brother chuckles softly. “But you kept calling out ‘brother’.” It’s like he’s hit a sore spot. I bristle defensively. “You’re making that up! How could I?” “If it wasn’t me.” My brother looks at me but says: “Aria, you’ve changed.” “You used to always seduce me like a little vixen, but now you’re like a frightened rabbit.” My body starts trembling uncontrollably. “Get out! I never seduced you!” I really didn’t. Back then I just didn’t understand anything. How can you slander me like this?

My brother is a pervert who lusts after me. The first time I realized this was probably when I graduated high school. That day I was watching TV in the living room, my feet propped up on the coffee table, painted toenails swaying gently. My brother sat down next to me and said: “Aria, your feet must be cold.” His fingers twitched a couple times before landing on my feet, massaging them. His touch was just right, very soothing. I dozed off. But half-asleep, I opened my eyes to see my brother’s usually cold expression twisted with desire. And my foot was pressed against his… My heart pounded wildly. An indescribable feeling welled up inside me. I felt so ashamed. I wanted to cry. No wonder my brother never let me date anyone. No wonder my underwear would mysteriously appear in his bedroom. No wonder he was always finding excuses to get close to my body. All those strange signs from before suddenly became clear. But I’m trapped in this house, with no way to escape.

My brother chuckles softly, his tone teasing: “My sweet Aria, I know you can’t bear to be apart from me.” Suddenly, my brother’s gaze falls on my neck. His pupils constrict. The next moment I’m pinned to the bed as he yanks open my collar. My brother demands harshly: “Who bullied you?” It’s over. Even though I’ve been bundling up in the summer, my brother has still seen the injuries on my body. They’re from when Olivia and her gang beat me up at lunch. But I can’t tell my brother that. Tears are forced from my eyes. I shake my head: “No one. No one bullied me.” He stares at me intently. My eyes are full of pleading. “Aria is being naughty,” he says. This position also makes me feel violated. I just want this to end quickly. “Go away. Don’t stay in my room.” His breath fans against my neck. Hatred flashes in my eyes. “Don’t make me hate you.” He sighs helplessly, finally getting up. The door slams shut. I start trembling, curling up in my blanket. My brother is gone, but not completely. The camera in the corner of the room keeps blinking green. A sticky gaze remains fixed on me. I know my brother will be watching my every move. Until dawn breaks.

At midnight, I hide in the camera’s blind spot, crouching down. I cover my mouth, my whole body shaking as tears stream from my eyes. What should I do? Just yesterday, the people who bully me found out that Lucas is my brother. They said they want me to introduce them to my brother. But they don’t know that if my brother finds out someone’s been bullying me, he’ll kill them.

In middle school, my best friend spread rumors that I was a slut, photoshopping nude pictures of me. The whole grade of over 2,000 students was calling me a whore in the group chat. At that time, I kept seeing that best friend around my brother. My brother would buy her bubble tea, pick her up from school, help her with homework. He’d even smile gently and pat her head. Angrily, I said: “I don’t want to see her.” My brother smiled. “Alright, Aria.” “Whatever you say.” That night, my brother came home very late. When I opened the door, I saw my brother wearing a black jacket, slowly taking off red gloves. No, the gloves were white originally, just stained red with something. Seeing me, he walked over and led me to the bedroom, gently coaxing me to sleep. But I could smell a faint scent of blood on my brother. My brother said casually: “I was just helping a friend slaughter a chicken.” I never imagined my brother’s hands that wrote legal documents would slaughter chickens. But the next day, my best friend was found dead in her own room. The blood spatter at the scene was shocking. Even though she had dozens of wounds on her body, the police ruled it a suicide. Because of that certificate of severe depression, and that suicide note. The note said she felt guilty towards me, was under a lot of pressure, had been self-harming for a while, and regretted spreading those rumors about me. So she chose to end her life then. The note was posted in the group chat. The rumors about me were debunked, and many people came to apologize to me. But I realized that when my brother was helping my best friend with homework, he had already perfected imitating her handwriting. … In high school, my math teacher would always use tutoring as an excuse to take me to his office. He would do strange things to me and tell me not to tell my parents. I said I don’t have parents, only a brother. He smiled, his eyes crinkling. “Then let’s keep this a secret from your brother together.” But when my brother couldn’t find me after school one day, he burst in, discovering everything. The math teacher used his authority to pressure the police into not investigating. My brother was just a poor student then, powerless to fight back. He quietly transferred me to a new school, telling me to forget everything. After moving to our new home, my brother started keeping a vicious dog. He wouldn’t let me touch it, just fed it himself every day. Much later, the math teacher caught an STD from fooling around. Then one day on an old, run-down school building… The railing gave way, and the math teacher fell straight down. When he was found, his lower parts were missing. The police determined the fall was an accident, and those parts had been eaten by a dog. The day the news broadcast, my brother sat laughing in front of the TV. He turned to ask me: “Aria, do you like this gift?” That day was my 16th birthday. My brother had just returned from that school building that morning. I looked at him, feeling my heart sink inch by inch. Even though my brother seemed to dote on me so much, I still lived in fear every day. Afraid of angering him and being devoured by him.

The next day, I went to school and entered the classroom. But as soon as I opened the door, a bucket of water came crashing down on my head, drenching me completely. Immediately after, the room erupted in raucous laughter. The whole class was laughing, everyone delighting in seeing me soaked like a drowned rat. I stood frozen in place, aware of a foul odor emanating from my body. Olivia walked up. She wanted to slap my face like before, but hesitated and drew back her hand. She said smugly: “Jack specially scooped this water from the toilet. A few classmates even took a piss in it.” So it wasn’t water, but urine. I wanted to ask for leave to go home and wash up, even if it meant skipping class. But Jack and Chris blocked my way out. Olivia said: “Skipping class is a bad habit. If you dare leave, I’ll tell my dad to expel you. You believe me, don’t you?” Olivia is my classmate, and also the principal’s daughter. I worked so hard to get into this school. I can’t be expelled. Olivia knows this, so she always uses it to threaten me. I could only walk back to my seat step by step. Along the way, everyone covered their mouths, looking at me with disgust. I opened my textbook to find it filled with vicious words written in red pen. “Whore!” “Slut!” That was Alex’s handwriting. I lowered my eyes to see the camera lens hidden in my desk drawer blinking green. Voices sounded around me. Alex said: “I can’t believe this bitch is actually Lucas’s sister!” Jack said: “A dog and a heartthrob, who could’ve imagined that combination?” Chris said: “They can’t be blood related. Wonder how that bitch latched onto Lucas.” … My brother graduated from Oxford Law School. He’s still a legend there even years after graduating. No one could believe someone like me was the sister of someone like him. My brother and I aren’t actually blood siblings. I was adopted by his parents when I was 8, but soon after his parents died in a car accident. So people always said my bad luck caused their deaths. I don’t know if my brother resented me for that back then, but regardless, he still raised me. Many times I’ve hated that I’m not his real sister. Maybe then the shackles of blood relation could restrain this madman, keep him from being so unrestrained with me.

No one would team up with me for PE class. I snuck back to the dorm to change clothes, but was pulled into the equipment room on my way back. Olivia stood there with Jack and his gang, looking down at me imperiously. She stepped forward, ignoring my struggles as she yanked off my clothes and shoved me to the ground. My arms scraped against the floor, leaving bloody scratches. I covered my chest with my hands, trembling. Looking at each of them, I asked: “Why? Why me?” Olivia laughed mockingly: “Because you’re a bitch in heat, that’s why.” “You’re so desperate, of course we have to satisfy you.” Even though Olivia and the others now know Lucas is my brother, they don’t care at all. That day, Olivia had her foot on my shoulder, her hand viciously gripping my face. “What? Are you going to tell anyone about this?” I shook my head, tears streaming down. “No, I won’t say anything.” Finally satisfied, she patted my face. “Good bitch.” Jack looked at me, his eyes full of lust. “I heard people with that condition are extra sensitive.” Chris said: “Wonder if she’s still a virgin?” Alex said: “I’ve wanted to strip her clothes off for so long. Who would’ve thought such an innocent face could be so slutty in private?” They were all tall and strong, closing in on me like that nightmare from a month ago. I was cornered against the wall as they all started taking off their clothes. Olivia sat on the desk, filming us with her phone flashlight on. If the security guard hadn’t come by on patrol, I probably would have been molested then… But now, it seems I can’t escape. I stared at them blankly, suddenly breaking down. My constant yielding had only made them more aggressive. “Just because I have that condition, does that mean I deserve to be abused?”

I have sex addiction. I first found out about this condition when I was a freshman in high school. I was really scared at first, often researching it alone late at night. When I finally understood it, I emerged from my room in a daze. I’ve never even had sex, how could I have this condition? I gritted my teeth, not daring to tell anyone, not even my brother. But when I started college, Olivia stole my phone and accidentally discovered that diagnosis photo. From that day on, my peaceful campus life was over. Even though I hadn’t done anything, everyone thought I was naturally promiscuous. “Bitch”, “slut”, “whore” – these words followed me throughout college. But I’ve been holding back so hard, trying so desperately to act like a normal person!

Their hands reached for my body. Tears streamed from my eyes. I looked at Olivia. “I promise, I’ll introduce you to my brother.” Olivia already hated me, but after discovering I was Lucas’s sister, she hated me even more. But she still hoped to meet Lucas through me, to date her former crush. As soon as I said this, she froze. Her goal achieved, she smirked. “We’ll let you off this time.” Jack got agitated. “You’re playing us!” Olivia slapped him hard. “Shut up.” Because her family was richer than all of them, everyone listened to her. They glanced at me, reluctantly withdrawing their hands. Olivia looked triumphant, clapping her hands. “See, wasn’t that easy?” She doesn’t know, I’m just trying to protect her. But since she wants me to know my place. She can just die.

That afternoon after school, she linked arms with me, acting all friendly as we arrived at the school gates. Jack and the others followed behind, also wanting to meet my brother. He was already leaning against a Porsche waiting for me. My brother affectionately tapped my nose. “Why are you letting me pick you up today?” My brother never uses this tone with others. Olivia’s expression changed. She dug her nails into my arm, breaking the skin. My brother noticed her and asked me: “This is…?” Olivia immediately said: “Hi senior, I’m Aria’s friend. We’re super close~” Jack and the other guys quickly chimed in: “Yeah, Lucas. That’s why she brought us to meet you.” “We had no idea she had such an amazing brother.” My brother’s gaze swept over my slightly trembling body. I hurriedly pulled down my sleeve to hide the scratches Olivia had left, but he still saw them. My brother’s eyes darkened, but he still nodded politely to them. “Hello.” Then he said to me: “Didn’t you say you wanted to go to the amusement park? I’m free today, let’s go.” Olivia dug her nails into me again. I got her meaning and stammered: “My friends all want to go too. Can we bring them along?” My brother never refuses my requests, so he opened the Porsche door. “Kids, get in.” Olivia immediately said sweetly: “Thanks, big bro.” Hearing this, I instinctively looked at her, my body trembling uncontrollably. I had begged her not to call Lucas “big bro”. But it’s like she’s deliberately going against me, still calling him that. She doesn’t know, my brother only allows me to call him that. Sure enough, my brother’s expression changed when he heard it. Olivia sensed something was off and asked innocently: “What’s wrong?” My brother looked at her, his eyes darker than the night, but he laughed softly. “You have a lovely voice.” Olivia lowered her head shyly. “If you like it, I’ll call you that more next time.” I heard Jack and the guys snickering behind me. “Looks like Olivia’s about to marry into money.” “The senior must like Olivia too, why else would he say that?” I gently touched where she had just dug her nails into me, thinking: My brother said that because he wants to slit Olivia’s throat. Because the last person who called him “big bro” died just like that.

My brother is very busy, but today he specially took a day off to entertain my friends. The amusement park was completely empty, not even any staff around. My brother looked at me tenderly, telling them: “I invested in building this amusement park.” “I originally wanted a quiet day alone with Aria, so I had the park close for the day and sent all the staff home.” “If I’d known you were coming too, I would have kept some staff.” Olivia glared at me hatefully. Jack and Chris sighed in admiration at my brother’s wealth and influence. Alex volunteered eagerly: “Senior, then let me try being an amusement park staff.” “I’ve done that kind of work before.” His family is poor, so he often works part-time jobs. The first ride we went on was the river rapids. We put on raincoats and got into the raft. After Alex pressed the start button, the raft carried us into a colorful cave. I tilted my head back, admiring the beautiful projections on the cave walls. I felt my brother’s hand gently rest on my thigh.

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If I hadn’t accidentally seen my husband’s phone, I would never have discovered his secret. It turns out that my meticulous husband, Jacob, was living a whole other life on his second Instagram account, posing as some kind of player. They even had a group where they competed to see whose affair was the most thrilling. Wow, I was in for a real eye-opener. When Jacob “Jake” Rivers pursued me back in the day, he put in a lot of effort. Even after we got married, he never changed—always so caring and loving. He would wake up early to make me breakfast and then drop me off at work. One morning, I woke up with an urgent need to use the bathroom. I rushed to the restroom, and I heard the shower running—Jake must have been in the bathroom. I didn’t pay much attention to it and went about my business. Suddenly, I heard a notification chime. I looked over and saw Jake’s phone lying on the bathroom counter, screen lighting up. It seemed like a message had come in. Curious, I picked it up. The screen was flashing, showing an Instagram account I had never seen before. The profile picture was of a shirtless guy flaunting his six-pack abs—definitely not the Instagram Jake normally used. I froze for a second and instinctively tried to unlock it. But something unexpected happened. The password was incorrect. My heart skipped a beat. Jake had always used my birthday as his password, and it had never changed. How could it have changed overnight? There was only one explanation: Jake must have changed it while I was asleep. I tried entering his own birthday, but that didn’t work either. Not wanting to try again and risk locking the phone, I placed it back on the counter and walked out. A few minutes later, Jake finished his shower and came out. He noticed I was awake and came over to kiss me on the cheek, saying he’d make me breakfast. I watched as he busied himself in the kitchen. Something felt off, so I casually asked him for his phone, saying I needed to look something up. Jake handed it to me without hesitation, just like he usually would. I sat down on the couch and unlocked the phone with ease this time. To my surprise, the password was once again my birthday. My instincts told me something was up, so I started scanning through his phone. Everything seemed normal—his apps were all still there. I opened his Instagram, and the first pinned chat was with me, with the note “Your beloved wife.” His profile picture was still the one of the two of us together. Nothing seemed to have changed. Had I imagined the other Instagram account? A little doubt crept into my mind. Jake came out of the kitchen with breakfast and called me over to eat. I got up and handed his phone back, my mind distracted as I ate. Just like always, Jake kept putting food on my plate, encouraging me to eat more. I looked up at his face, and his eyes reflected nothing but love for me. Could I have been overthinking? Doubts continued to swirl in my head.

After breakfast, Jake handed me a handful of prenatal vitamins, which had become part of my daily routine. If there’s one thing I regret in life, it’s that despite being married to Jake for years, we never had a child of our own. We’d tried everything—doctors, treatments, and all kinds of medications, but nothing worked. Then one day, Jake brought home some vitamins from who knows where. He told me that many people at his company had tried them and, sure enough, they had soon gotten pregnant afterward. I believed him, so I took them dutifully every morning. After I swallowed the pills, Jake smiled, ran his hand through my hair, and called me a “good girl” before dropping me off at work. The whole day at the office, I couldn’t concentrate. Something didn’t sit right. I opened my computer and searched: “Can you have two Instagram accounts on the same phone?” I was shocked by what I found. Phones could, indeed, support multiple Instagram accounts. I remembered Jake had just upgraded his phone, and it was capable of running two accounts. That night, when I got home, I grabbed Jake’s phone again. This time, I went straight to Instagram, into settings, and found the dual-app function. I switched accounts, and sure enough—there was a second Instagram account. The profile picture? That same shirtless guy with abs I had seen earlier that morning. I opened the account. Messages flooded the screen, the unread number glowing red. The group chat was titled, “The Best Affairs Start Here.” I clicked into it. Jake was one of the most active members, constantly posting photos of himself with different women. Looking at the pictures, I felt a wave of defeat and heartbreak like I’d never known before. It was as if I had never really known the man I married. From the kitchen, I heard Jake calling me to dinner. I quickly noted the group name, switched back to the original account, and returned the phone to its place. That night, I locked myself in the home office. I created a fake account and spent a little money to join the group chat. As soon as I entered, I saw Jake bragging about his affairs. He had just posted a picture of himself on top of some woman, her face hidden but her body was curvy. After that post, the group chat exploded with excitement. Reading those messages and seeing the pictures felt like a dagger twisting inside me. I could barely breathe. The group buzzed with more activity because of Jake’s post. Someone even suggested a competition to see who could have the most affairs. Without hesitation, Jake was the first to agree. He even said he’d share the time and hotel details for his next affair. I couldn’t believe my eyes. Was this really Jacob “Jake” Rivers—the man who claimed to love and care for me?

Jake and I met in college. He was a year ahead of me and sort of like my mentor. When we were both looking for internships right before graduation, one of my professors suggested I apply to the same firm where Jake was working. When I joined, I didn’t know much, and Jake patiently guided me through everything. That’s when I started feeling something for him. One night, I stayed late at the office to finish some work. I was so busy I didn’t even have time for dinner. When I finally finished, I stood up, feeling dizzy and sick. Before I knew it, I collapsed. The last thing I remembered before passing out was hearing Jake’s voice and seeing him running toward me. When I woke up, I was in a hospital bed. Jake was sitting beside me, fast asleep. Sensing I had woken up, he opened his eyes, smiled, and said, “You’re awake. The doctor said it was just a bad case of gastritis, but you’re going to be fine.” I looked at the clock; it was nearly 5 a.m. He had stayed with me all night. I was touched. The doctor released me after a night of observation, and Jake even took me out for breakfast afterward. That incident brought us closer, and soon after, we started dating. Jake was incredibly attentive, and with his care, my stomach issues never bothered me again. After graduation, I was offered a permanent position at the firm because of my excellent performance. But shortly after, Jake resigned, and I was shocked. I went down to the parking garage to confront him, asking why he quit. He just stared at me without answering. I was so anxious that I started crying and grabbed his hand, begging to know why he was leaving. He sighed, pulled me into his arms, and whispered in my ear, “Silly girl, the company doesn’t allow office relationships. I had to quit so I could date you.” I blushed like a tomato. After he left the company, we officially started dating. It was like being wrapped in sweetness every day. Not long after, Jake proposed, and I didn’t hesitate for a second—I said yes immediately. I took him to meet my parents, expecting them to love him as much as I did. But they were adamantly opposed. They thought Jake was too complicated, and I was too naive, that I would end up getting hurt. I didn’t listen. I fought with them for a long time before they finally gave in. To prove himself, Jake continued being the perfect husband after we got married, and my parents eventually warmed up to him. My father even pulled some strings to get Jake a job as CFO at a major international firm. Meanwhile, my career was thriving. Within a few years, I became the head of overseas business for our firm. I thought life would stay perfect forever, but then Jake slapped me in the face with reality. Not only had he cheated, but he was bragging about it in a group chat. I was furious and didn’t sleep all night. The next morning, I went to work with two huge bags under my eyes. I sat at my desk, trying to figure out who the other woman could be. I took out my phone and started scrolling through Jake’s Instagram. Most of the pictures were of us, smiling happily together in every shot.

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