Category: English

The first thing I did after being reborn was sign up for a weight loss boot camp. In my previous life, my boyfriend Riley thought I was too fat and demanded I lose weight down to 100 pounds before he’d marry me. I desperately tried to lose weight, but instead of getting thinner, I actually gained more. Meanwhile, my best friend Kate Lawson, who never dieted, managed to drop from 130 pounds to 100 pounds in less than a month. Kate’s successful transformation quickly caught Riley’s attention. The two of them had an affair behind my back, and when I discovered it, they pushed me off the rooftop. Only after I died did I learn that Kate had been bound to a weight exchange system. No matter how hard I tried to lose weight, every pound I lost would transfer to her. And her excess weight would transfer to me in return. When I opened my eyes again, I was back to the day Riley demanded I lose weight down to 100 pounds. With all my memories from my previous life restored, I smiled. Kate wanted to be thin, but would she still be happy if she weighed only 45 pounds? “I’ve always told you to watch your figure, but you never listen. Look at yourself in the mirror—you have absolutely no curves whatsoever! “You need to lose weight. If you can’t get down to 100 pounds, don’t even think about marrying me!” The impatient voice reached my ears, snapping me back to reality as I met Riley’s disgusted gaze. I instinctively touched my body, the phantom pain of broken bones still lingering. Seeing me standing there in a daze without responding, Kate, who was standing next to Riley, chimed in. “Rose West, you’ll never get married if you don’t lose weight! “Listen to Riley and lose the weight properly. Otherwise, if the engagement gets called off, I won’t be able to help you.” I turned to look at Kate, seeing her expression of schadenfreude mixed with anticipation, and I was certain I had truly been reborn. I was back to the day Riley demanded I lose weight down to 100 pounds. In my previous life, Riley and I had gone to try on wedding dresses just one month before our wedding. While watching scantily clad, sexy women on his phone’s live stream, he criticized and mocked my figure. “Other people look more beautiful in wedding dresses, but you just look uglier. Such a beautiful dress is completely wasted on you! “You need to lose weight immediately. At the wedding in a month, if you haven’t lost down to 100 pounds, I’ll find a new bride!” My weight at the time was 120 pounds. I wasn’t really fat, just looked a bit stocky. To be able to wear my wedding dress beautifully and marry Riley, I desperately tried to lose weight. I ate only vegetables for all three meals, exercised and ran every day, and tried every weight loss method I could think of. But not only did my weight not decrease, I actually ballooned up to 165 pounds. In contrast, Kate, who never dieted, dropped from 130 pounds to 100 pounds in less than a month. Kate’s great figure quickly caught Riley’s eye. The two of them had an affair behind my back. When I discovered them, they shamelessly called me a fat pig who deserved to be unwanted, and then pushed me off the rooftop. My wedding was given to a new bride. Only after I died did I learn that Kate had been bound to a weight exchange system. No matter how hard I tried to lose weight, every pound I lost would transfer to her. And her excess weight would transfer to me in return. Kate, who successfully lost down to 100 pounds in a month, stole all the good fortune from my life. She not only got my man but also took over my job at the state-owned enterprise. She even won big in the lottery later on.

Recalling everything from my past life, I wanted nothing more than to tear these two people apart limb by limb. But I held back. Now wasn’t the time to drop the mask. I smiled as I responded to Riley’s weight loss demand. “Don’t worry, I’ll definitely lose the weight!” Riley asked doubtfully, “Really?” I nodded. “Really!” Seeing how obedient and eager I was, Riley said gently, “Rose, you’re such a good girl. I can’t wait to see you at 100 pounds. You’ll be my most beautiful bride!” As Riley spoke, he leaned in to kiss me. Just as his lips were about to touch mine, I felt a hostile gaze. I glanced sideways and caught the jealousy in Kate’s eyes, her hands clenched into tight fists at her sides. Naturally, Kate couldn’t stand seeing Riley and me being intimate. She quickly masked her jealousy and rushed forward to separate us. Then she pressed close to Riley’s arm, batting her eyes as she pouted, “Riley, stop showing off your love in front of me, a single person. If you keep being all lovey-dovey with my Rose, I’m going to get jealous of you.” Unfortunately, Riley had zero interest in Kate, who weighed 130 pounds and stood only 5 feet tall. He directly dodged her advance. Kate was displeased, but she didn’t blame Riley. Instead, she turned her anger toward me. She pretended to joke, “Rose is such a foodie. Can you really succeed at losing weight? Rose, it would be so embarrassing if you got even fatter!” Upon hearing this, Riley also cast a doubtful look my way. Both of them stared at me with their own hidden agendas. Under their intense scrutiny, I smiled and nodded. “Don’t worry, I definitely won’t disappoint you! I promise to lose weight to exactly what you want!” After saying this, right in front of Riley and Kate, I pulled out my phone and signed up for a weight loss training program. Now both their eyes lit up, absolutely thrilled. Riley excitedly held up his phone and started making demands. “Rose, lose weight according to this influencer’s figure. You must have S-curves just like her. My happiness depends on you!” Kate also crowded in, chattering nonstop. “Rose, you need to stay steady at 100 pounds. 100 pounds is the perfect weight—not even one pound more!” Both of them were smugly satisfied. Looking at their greedy, ugly faces, I sneered inwardly. Riley couldn’t get the sexy female influencer online, so he set his sights on me, trying to remake me. Kate, in order to steal everything from me, was using me as a stepping stone. Having grown up in an orphanage, I had once wholeheartedly considered these two the only family I had in this lifetime. Riley was my boyfriend of three years, Kate was my best friend. In the end, they conspired together to scheme against me, betray me, and even caused my death. This time, I’m going to make both of them pay the price!

The night I signed up, Riley and Kate immediately packed my bags and shipped me off to the weight loss boot camp, claiming they wanted me to complete my mission early. I trained hard every day at the camp, while Riley was out bar-hopping. He’d brag to me about the waitresses’ figures, saying it was to motivate my weight loss. Riley’s disgusting behavior was absolutely revolting. I have no idea how I was blind enough to fall for him before. Thankfully, I knew his true nature from my past life, so I wasn’t fooled by him this time around. Kate, meanwhile, was posting photos of herself eating all kinds of delicious food on social media, deliberately making sure I could see every single one. When people kindly advised her not to overeat and hurt her stomach, she didn’t care at all. Instead, she replied to those concerned people saying she was doing “alternative” weight loss. Others didn’t know the truth, but I knew perfectly well that her alternative weight loss method was stealing my workout results. I didn’t have time to worry about her antics—I just focused on exercising properly every day. A week later, Riley and Kate came to check on my weight loss progress. The moment Riley saw me, his face darkened. He immediately lashed out at me: “Rose, I sent you here to lose weight. How did you get fatter? Can’t you be useful for once? Stop acting like a pig that only knows how to eat!” Seeing me get scolded, Kate laughed with pure delight. She looked me up and down, reached out to pinch the fat around my waist, then started mocking me: “Rose, you’re absolutely useless! You’re turning into a fat pig, but I’ve actually lost weight. I’ve been eating so much these past few days, yet I somehow lost 10 pounds. How annoying!” I looked up at her, and Kate had indeed visibly slimmed down. Since she was on the shorter side, losing ten pounds made her collarbones more defined and her neck appear much longer. I pretended to be upset as I said, “I don’t know what’s wrong with me either. I actually gained 10 pounds. I feel terrible!” My defeat made Kate absolutely ecstatic, and she smugly continued her taunts: “Maybe it’s just fate! I’m God’s favorite child. Don’t you agree, Riley?” “Absolutely. Kate, you’ve definitely lost a lot of weight recently.” Riley had been staring at Kate the whole time. Only after my comment did he look away. After flattering Kate, he glanced at me again, frowning with displeasure as he accused me: “Rose, look at Kate. You’re such a disappointment! Haven’t you been trying to lose weight?” I shook my head. He continued pressuring me: “I’m warning you. You better lose weight properly. Otherwise, I’ll definitely punish you!” Kate chimed in to lecture me too: “Rose, you should just stop eating altogether. You’re not as lucky as I am, so you need to exercise honestly!” The two of them finished berating me before leaving. During dinner, Kate sent me photos of her and Riley eating together. Kate: [To celebrate my weight loss, Riley specially took me out for steak. But I don’t want to lose weight at all.] Kate: [Rose, you’re living such a happy life. You’re gaining weight every day. You’re almost a fat pig now.] Kate: [Rose, you need to work harder at losing weight. Otherwise, what if I, as your bridesmaid, steal your spotlight at the wedding?] ***** I stared at the barrage of texts Kate was sending to my phone, then took another bite of my chicken leg. After a while, I finally replied. Rose: [Don’t worry. You’re my good friend. Having you as my bridesmaid is the best gift I could ask for. Even if you steal the spotlight, I won’t blame you.] Of course I wouldn’t blame her. I should congratulate her instead! When the time comes, she’ll get to thoroughly enjoy the spotlight I personally hand over to her! A few days later, I received a video on my phone. In the video, two people were making out in my room. Kate was wearing Riley’s favorite outfit, straddling his waist and teasing him. Kate’s eyes sparkled as she spoke in a sultry voice: “Riley, my collarbone—don’t you want to take a bite?” Kate in the video was thin, exactly Riley’s type. Riley obliged, biting down on her collarbone as she laughed with satisfaction. “Riley, what if Rose fails to lose weight?” Riley kissed her neck, answering absentmindedly: “I’ve already given her a chance. If she can’t lose the weight, I’ll find a new bride!” “So who would be the best replacement?” Riley naturally caught the hint in Kate’s words. He chuckled softly, pinning her beneath him: “If Rose fails, then I’ll marry you, kitten!” The two began having wild sex. Watching them make out in my room, I felt no anger whatsoever. Instead, I calmly ate the fried chicken in my hands. I’d let them enjoy their moment of triumph for now, because soon they wouldn’t have the chance to be so smug. A month later, the wedding proceeded as scheduled. I appeared at the venue wearing the same wedding dress I had tried on before. When Riley saw me, the anticipation in his eyes instantly dimmed. He strode forward, looking me up and down from head to toe. His eyes were filled with disbelief, as if he’d seen a ghost. “Rose, how have you not lost any weight at all? Did you even take what I said seriously?” At that moment, I looked exactly the same as before he’d demanded I lose weight. Riley’s parents, who had traveled from the countryside, also shook their heads. “Didn’t you say Rose had a great figure? She looks way too fat!” “Yeah, she’s as fat as the pigs we raise back in our village. How embarrassing!” This was my first time meeting Riley’s parents. Before the wedding, Riley had often told me his parents were simple, hardworking people. That’s why I hadn’t asked for any wedding gifts. Turns out, his parents were typical social climbers. I suddenly felt grateful that I hadn’t married him. At this point, I was too lazy to keep up the act. I rolled my eyes at this family and shrugged: “What can I do about it?” Seeing my attitude, Riley became even more furious. He glared at me viciously: “Rose, you’re absolutely useless! Since that’s how it is, don’t blame me for abandoning you!” Then he grabbed the officiant’s microphone and announced to all the guests: “I declare that I will not marry Rose, this fat pig. I’m changing brides!” The crowd below erupted in chaos. People began whispering among themselves, many pointing and commenting on my figure. I remained expressionless, as if I were a bystander: “Whatever. Just don’t regret it!” Riley spat in my direction. “I’d only regret marrying a fat pig like you!” Then he continued: “I’m going to marry the maid of honor, Kate Lawson!” After he spoke, everyone began looking around for Kate. But after waiting a long time, no one stepped forward. “Where’s the maid of honor? Where did she go?” “I heard that maid of honor was the bride’s best friend. What a sin to encounter someone who steals her friend’s husband!” “That maid of honor must be really pretty, otherwise the groom wouldn’t change brides on the spot!” Riley panicked too. He held the microphone and shouted Kate’s name loudly. “Kate, where are you? Come out!” Amid everyone’s calls, the doors to the wedding venue were pushed open. When people saw who entered, they were completely shocked and screamed in terror!

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My best friend Bella Burns was hemorrhaging after childbirth, her life hanging by a thread. My husband Peter Green urged me to donate blood to save her. To save her, I didn’t hesitate to give blood, pulling her back from the brink of death. But this exposed the fact that I have an extremely rare Rh-negative blood type. Later, when her daughter developed a rare disease requiring a complete blood transfusion, she begged me desperately to donate blood. But I had just gotten pregnant and couldn’t donate blood at all. Peter persuaded me: “You just need to save a little girl. You don’t need to give much blood. Don’t be so heartless.” After I firmly refused, Bella knelt in front of me in public, crying her heart out. “Paige is only two years old. How can you bear to watch her die!” Bella even spread the word online that I was refusing to save a life, not even sparing a child. I was condemned by internet users, spurned by friends and colleagues. Even Peter found me cold-hearted and demanded a divorce. Meanwhile, Bella went viral online, not only receiving millions of dollars in donations but also having hospitals offer free treatment for her daughter. I rushed to Bella’s house to confront her, only to walk in on Peter and her passionately kissing. Bella laughed: “You can’t have children, so naturally he favors me more.” I had an emotional breakdown and grabbed scissors, ready to stab Bella. But Peter plunged a knife into my throat. I died from suffocation. When I opened my eyes again, I was back to the day Bella knelt and begged me to donate blood to save someone. ***** “Lara Lewis, just donate blood for Paige. Paige just needs a complete blood transfusion, it’s no big deal.” I looked coldly at Bella, who was kneeling in front of me crying her eyes out, my nails digging into my palms until they drew blood. My voice was hoarse as I replied: “I can’t donate blood. Bella, you should find someone else.” Bella cried even more heartbreakingly. Anyone who saw her would think she was utterly pitiful. Peter also frowned, looking at me with disapproval. “How much blood could Paige possibly need? Don’t be so heartless.” Seeing the heartache in Peter’s eyes and his hand on Bella’s shoulder, the hatred in my heart deepened. In my previous life, Bella had hemorrhaged after childbirth, her life in danger. Peter looked anxious and urged me to donate blood to save her. He condemned me: “Bella is your best friend! Can you bear to watch her die?” Bella and I had been best friends for nearly twenty years, so naturally I couldn’t bear to watch her die. So I didn’t hesitate to donate blood, just to pull Bella back from the brink of death. But when Bella woke up, she didn’t thank me. Even after her daughter was diagnosed with a rare disease requiring a complete blood transfusion, she set her sights on me again. At that time, I had just learned I was pregnant, so naturally I firmly refused to donate blood. But Bella spread the word online that I was refusing to save a life, that I was heartless and cruel. I was condemned by internet users, chased and blocked by strangers, and nearly lost my child. My friends and colleagues also spurned me. They not only cut ties with me but also reported me to the company for misconduct, getting me fired. Even Peter found me cold-hearted and would rather give up all his assets than divorce me. Meanwhile, Bella won the sympathy of internet users. She not only received millions of dollars in donations but also had hospitals willing to provide free treatment. I rushed to Bella’s house, only to see her and Peter passionately kissing. Instantly furious, I rushed over to demand why they were doing this to me. Bella leaned into Peter’s arms, smiling smugly. “You can’t have children, so naturally he favors me more.” I had an emotional breakdown and grabbed the scissors from the table, lunging at Bella. But Peter plunged a knife into my throat. In the end, I died from suffocation. Thinking of this, I instinctively touched my abdomen. Bella’s shrill crying brought me back to reality. She crawled over to me crying, hugging my legs and refusing to let go. “Paige is only two years old. How can you refuse to save her? “She has a rare Rh-negative blood type. Only you can save her. How can you bear to watch her die?” Her crying immediately drew everyone else’s attention. Everyone urged me to donate blood. “How much blood could a small child need? As an adult, don’t be so petty.” “You won’t even save a two-year-old child? Are you even human!”

A smug look flashed in Bella’s eyes as she lifted her chin, waiting for me to give in. I shot back directly: “Why don’t you donate yourself? Blood donation isn’t something to take lightly!” Everyone immediately fell silent, afraid that saying one more word would get them forced into donating blood too. I turned around and looked at Bella with confusion: “You also have the rare Rh-negative blood type. Why aren’t you donating blood to Paige?” Bella panicked for a moment, stammering her rebuttal: “Lara, don’t talk nonsense. I’m not some rare blood type.” I covered my mouth, putting on a surprised expression: “Bella, what are you saying? When you had postpartum hemorrhaging, I was the one who donated blood to you!” Bella reacted quickly, immediately declaring with righteous indignation that doctors don’t allow direct family members to donate blood. She expressed her anguish: “If direct family members could donate blood, I’d risk my life to save Paige!” Peter stepped protectively in front of Bella, frowning as he scolded me loudly: “Stop hitting Bella where it hurts! If you really care about Paige, you should hurry up and donate blood!” The people around us chimed in, pressing me from all sides, all just to force me to donate blood to save Paige. I even heard someone in the crowd whispering that Peter was so good to Bella, and that they clearly looked like a loving couple. The smile on my face completely crumbled as my emotions broke down: “So you’re just going to keep protecting Bella? Don’t forget, I’m your wife!” A chorus of boos rose from the crowd of onlookers, and everyone’s gaze toward Peter and Bella changed. Panic flashed in Peter’s eyes before he composed himself. He declared righteously that he was a champion of justice and would never cover for me just because I was his wife. Bella also dropped to her knees in front of me with a thud, kowtowing to me over and over: “Lara, please save Paige this once. As long as you’re willing to save Paige, I’ll do anything for you!” The people around us couldn’t stand it anymore. Not only were there angry shouts, but someone even morally blackmailed me: “If you don’t save this child today and she dies, you’ll be a murderer!” Peter played the righteous hero, making the decision for me: “You’re going to donate blood to Paige right now. If you don’t donate, we’re getting divorced!” With that, he grabbed my hand and forcefully dragged me toward the blood draw station.

Behind me, Bella triumphantly thanked me loudly, saying Paige would remember my kindness for the rest of her life. I looked at Bella, who thought she had victory in the bag, and forcefully broke free from Peter’s grip. Following Bella’s example, I knelt in front of her, silently shedding tears. I cried loudly: “But I really can’t donate blood. I just found out I’m pregnant a couple days ago. I’ve been married for so many years, and it’s taken so long to finally have this child. Bella, you should understand, right?” As soon as I finished speaking, Bella immediately screamed: “Impossible! How could you possibly be pregnant?” Peter was also skeptical about my pregnancy. He insisted it was a misdiagnosis and told me not to believe it. Looking at the two panicked people in front of me, my heart sank slightly. Could it be that my years of infertility were their doing? I suppressed the panic in my heart and looked at Bella apologetically: “I really can’t donate blood. Bella, as a mother yourself, you should understand me.” Bella still wouldn’t give up, persistently denying the fact of my pregnancy. Even when I placed the pregnancy test results in front of her, she insisted I couldn’t possibly be pregnant. Peter also accused me with righteous indignation: “How could you make up being pregnant just to avoid donating blood to save someone?” Seeing how certain they both looked, I couldn’t help but laugh: “Who told you I can’t get pregnant? The doctors all said there’s nothing wrong with me.” Bella helplessly tapped my forehead with her finger, looking at me with mild reproach: “Lara, have you forgotten? The pre-marital medical report clearly stated you’re one hundred percent unable to conceive.” Peter turned his head away with an expression of reluctance to discuss it, obviously agreeing with Bella’s statement. Everyone mocked and ridiculed me, saying I was pretending to be pregnant just to avoid donating blood, no wonder I didn’t have children. Several emotionally agitated middle-aged women even pointed at me and cursed: “You don’t have children because you’ve done nothing but evil!” “You better do some good deeds, or you’ll go to hell when you die!” With the support of the onlookers, Bella and Peter became even more smug. The corners of my mouth turned up slightly as I suggested getting another pregnancy test at the hospital. Bella hesitated, but I immediately said: “Don’t tell me you don’t even trust the hospital you found for Paige? This isn’t some fake hospital, is it?” Hearing me question the hospital, the patients’ families immediately defended it, saying the hospital was nationally ranked and absolutely couldn’t make mistakes. I raised an eyebrow at the two standing together. After exchanging glances, they agreed to my suggestion. The test results came back quickly. Peter volunteered to get the report. He looked at the pregnancy test in his hands for a long while without saying anything. I was confident, believing my pregnancy was absolutely undeniable. But the next second, Peter held up the test results and accused me with heartbreak: “Honey, you’re clearly not pregnant. Why won’t you just admit it?” I instinctively protested. In my past life, I watched my belly grow day by day—how could I not have been pregnant? Bella’s mouth fell open as she stepped back several paces, muttering: “Do you hate seeing me have children so much? You even want to take away my only hope. You’re trying to drive me to death!” She burst into tears and collapsed to the ground. Peter rushed over to help her up, glaring at me viciously: “You were the one who demanded the test. The results are out, but you still won’t admit it. I never should have married such a vicious woman!” With that, Peter handed the pregnancy test to the onlookers. After everyone looked at it, they all concluded I was faking pregnancy. The last man to read it threw the test results at me with disgust: “It clearly says you’re not pregnant—this can’t be faked.” I picked up the fallen test results in disbelief. It indeed stated I wasn’t pregnant, and there was even a small line saying I had no reproductive capacity whatsoever. Looking at Peter’s heartbroken expression over the results, I felt a chill. What hospital pregnancy test would specify lack of reproductive capacity? I forced myself to stay calm and pointed to that small line, saying the test was fake. A scoff came from the crowd, and a doctor in a white coat emerged from the group. She pushed up her glasses and declared forcefully:

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Prologue To cure my adopted younger brother’s depression, Chandra Thorn-my childhood sweetheart and fiancée who grew up with me in the orphanage—chose to betray me. She secretly registered her marriage with him. Not long after, my brother inherited all of my birth parents’ private hospitals and pharmaceutical companies. In a fit of rage, I agreed to a marriage alliance with Winona Lowell, heiress to a California real estate empire. On our wedding day, she confessed tearfully that she had loved me for 14 years in silence and had finally waited long enough to call me hers. After the wedding, I brought along my beloved Steinway piano and moved into the Beverly Hills villa under Winona’s name, cutting off all contact with the Xander family. For the next seven years, I spoiled her to the bone. We spent every night entangled in passion, and she clung to me as if starved for touch. The world saw her as a ruthless businesswoman, but only I knew she couldn’t fall asleep without me in her arms. Even when traveling for business, she insisted on video calling me before bed. I truly believed I had finally found happiness. Until one night, after we made love, I went to the bathroom to clean up—only to accidentally overhear her on a phone call with her bestie on the balcony: “Yvon is back in LA and opening a new medical lab. You’re still not divorcing Evan?” Winona’s voice drifted in through the door, laced with a contempt I’d never heard before. “You think I enjoy screwing him? Though I’ll admit, his pianist fingers aren’t bad…” “In the end, it’s just being with someone you don’t love. What’s the difference? And I need to keep an eye on him. I can’t let him threaten what Yvon worked so hard to inherit.” My hands shook as I opened her study computer. In a hidden folder labeled “Lab M”, I found over a hundred thousand photos of Yvon Xander. • “White coat close-up from med school graduation.” • “Candid from international medical forum.” The most recent one was taken just last week—while she was supposedly on a business trip. In the corner of the image, her signature red nail polish was unmistakable. There were also a hundred unsent love letters. If I still refused to see the truth, then I truly deserved to be deceived. I bought a synthetic corpse online and set a fire. From this day forward, not even death would reunite us. *** I cleared the fogged-up mirror and stared at my pale face and bloodshot eyes. Water droplets slid down the ends of my hair. The scent of Winona’s perfume still clung to my skin, mingling with the mint of the body wash—a strange, almost eerie harmony. “Evan, need a towel?” Her voice came through the door, drowsy and satisfied from what we’d just done. “No, I’m good. Almost done.” My knuckles whitened as I pressed down on the edge of the sink. Fifteen minutes ago, we were still tangled together in the bedroom of the Beverly Hills mansion she owned. Winona had been unusually passionate today, her nails raking red lines across my back like she needed proof I was real. Today marked our seventh wedding anniversary. I thought it was her way of showing love. Until I overheard her conversation with her best friend. Winona stood on the balcony, her back to me, phone pressed to her ear, city lights of Los Angeles glittering in the dark. “Of course I know—Yvon gets back LA today.” My steps froze. “You think I actually enjoy screwing him?…” She lowered her voice gradually, but each word stabbed into me like a blade. The doorframe creaked beneath my hand. She turned at the sound. “Evan? Is that you…?” I’d already slipped back into the bathroom and locked the door. The man in the mirror stared back at me—eyes red, lips twitching in silent tremors. So this was the truth. Seven years of marriage. Fourteen years of secret love. All of it—lies. She’d never loved me. It was always Yvon Xander—the man my father adopted as my “brother”. I cranked the faucet to full. Ice-cold water blasted down my body. The roar drowned everything else, except the shards of memory stabbing into my mind like broken glass— The glances she exchanged with Yvon at every family gathering. How she always left the room when I played “Mariage d’Amour.” The way her gaze burned through the veil on our wedding day—aimed not at me, but at the best man. Seven years ago, when my fiancée Chandra Thorn chose Yvon over me, I thought I’d lost everything. Then Winona appeared, promising to erase all my pain. How ironic. The two women I trusted most… both chose Yvon. I turned off the water, dried myself off. By the time I opened the bathroom door, I’d already put on the perfect mask. Winona sat at the edge of the bed, hands clenched, knuckles white. She looked up. “Just now, I—” “What were you talking about with friend?” I cut her off, voice calm as I walked to the wardrobe and pulled out a robe. I turned around—and met her perfectly painted smile. “Nothing important…” She had stood on the balcony for quite a while. Now, after warming up indoors, she cautiously wrapped her arms around me from behind. “Why aren’t you asleep yet?” “Waiting for you, so we can sleep together.” She rubbed my back with her full breasts. That familiar softness, that warmth I used to treasure—now it only made my heart ache. For seven years, I had adored her. Spoiled her. In the circles of California’s elite, everyone knew Winona Lowell was madly in love with her classical pianist husband. She once said she’d fallen for me at first sight. That she’d secretly loved me for fourteen years. At our wedding, she cried while confessing she never imagined I would actually marry her. She knew everything about my past. She used her family’s influence to fight against Chandra Thorn after she left me, and even tried to sabotage Yvon’s pharmaceutical ventures for my sake. She said she resented anyone who’d ever hurt me. She played her part so well—better than any Oscar-winning actress. She always liked to call me Evan right before she came — but the tone was always… off. I used to think it was just her voice trembling from pleasure. But looking back now, I’m afraid she was calling my brother’s name — Yvon — all along. I looked down and quietly unclenched my fist, smoothing the veins rising on my hand. She didn’t notice. She kept talking. “Your brother opened a new lab in LA. The government’s hosting a ceremony in two days. Stay home with me, okay? I don’t want you running into him and getting upset.” I silently counted—this was at least the hundredth time she’d come up with an excuse to keep me from attending public events. I used to think she was just possessive, loving me too much. So I tolerated everything. At the peak of my music career, I chose to retire early. I distanced myself from the pharmaceutical world, even though I had a more advanced medical license than Yvon—and a degree in business management on top of it. Now I know—it was all to clear the path for him. “I’ve got a meeting with Tina tomorrow,” I said casually. “She asked me to perform at her promotion ceremony in three days. I promised I’d go.” “That Tina looks at you like she wants to eat you alive. I’m worried she’s after your good looks.” She even pretended to be jealous. She knew I never cared for fame or fortune, only classical piano. And I was good at it. I once told her: playing at the Burbank Music Hall was my dream. Tina’s ceremony would be held there—in just three days. Tina was both a fan and a friend. She had invited me specially. But Yvon always mocked my music, and Winona used that to her advantage. She’d repeatedly guilt me into quitting, claiming she feared female groupies would try to seduce me. When I didn’t respond, she pouted slightly, “Honey, can’t you just give me a little more reassurance? There will always be parties, but our time together is what really matters, isn’t it?” I forced a smile. “Don’t worry. On that day, I’ll give you a surprise gift.” The freshly changed sheets smelled faintly of lavender. I picked up my phone and pulled up the floor plan for the concert hall. Burbank Music Hall. Wooden architecture. Outdated electrical systems. A perfect venue. My fingers swiped across the screen, marking key spots. The fuse box beneath the piano. The curtain control rigs. The backstage emergency exits. A plan was forming—A fire spectacular enough to make headlines, yet harmless to others. I glanced at her sleeping face, peaceful and sated. And in my heart, I whispered— Just three more days, Winona. Then I’ll disappear from your world—forever.

Two days later, I attended the opening ceremony of the laboratory that Yvon Xander had invested in. Winona linked her arm with mine as we entered, and all eyes turned toward us — the perfect pairing of California’s real estate queen and her pianist husband. “Mr. Xander!” Tina waved at me, beside her, Yvon smiled brightly. Tina Thompson, Director of California’s Urban Planning Department, , was an audience I saved at my solo recital six months ago. She had suffered a sudden heart attack, and I had used my trained emergency skills to pull her back from death. Today she wore a crisp white suit, her blonde hair pinned up—a striking contrast to the sea of evening gowns. “Mr. Xander,” she took my hand, her blue eyes sincere as she leaned in to whisper, “The development permit for that land has been approved. Mrs. Xander’s project can move forward on schedule.” I was surprised. “So soon?” “Well, you did save my life.” She chuckled softly, “Plus, the project really does have great potential.” Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Winona being introduced by Yvon to several investors. “Winona is really lucky,” Tina said, her voice lowering as she leaned in just slightly. Her eyes locked onto mine—bold, admiring, and unmistakably suggestive. “To have a man like you—talented, loyal… and so incredibly perfect.” I felt the weight of her gaze, intense enough to make my throat tighten. I looked away, a bitter smile tugging at my lips. There was no point in telling her the land was my last gift to Winona. Yvon stepped forward. “What’s got you and Tina so happy?” he asked with a grin. Winona’s gaze flickered between Tina and me, her red lips pressing into a thin line. “I was praising Mr. Xander’s piano talents,” Tina said with a smile. “He’s invited to support me at my promotion ceremony tomorrow.” Yvon sighed dramatically, “Evan’s talent? Sure, he’s got plenty of that — just a shame it can’t make any fortune.”He cast a glance at Winona, “Good thing someone’s willing to keep him fed.” The banquet hall fell silent for a few seconds. Winona stared at her champagne flute, saying nothing. Tina raised an eyebrow and laughed lightly, “The value of one Chopin piece he plays could buy you ten hospitals.” Yvon’s face darkened immediately. Winona suddenly looked up, a flicker of emotion I couldn’t read flashing in her eyes. “Excuse me.” I set down my glass and turned away. I’d seen this act too many times over the past seven years—Yvon publicly belittling me, Winona silently allowing it, and the same old crowd laughing at the pianist’s ‘useless talent.’ The cold wind on the terrace blew away some of the alcohol’s haze. I heard the sound of heels behind me. Thinking it was Winona, I turned — but it was Tina. “Need any help?” She offered me a cigarette. I shook my head. “Only if you can give me a new identity,” I joked half-seriously. Tina’s blue eyes deepened under the moonlight. “Serious?” I froze, realizing this might be my chance. “After tomorrow’s recital… I might need to vanish for a while.” She didn’t ask why, only nodded, “Give me 24 hours.” A joyful scream suddenly burst from the banquet hall. Through the glass doors, I saw Winona almost throw herself into Yvon’s arms, visibly moved, while Yvonne waved exaggeratedly to show that it was nothing. “Mr. Xander?” Tina looked at my pale face with concern. “I’m fine.” I forced a smile. “I need to prepare for tomorrow’s recital. Excuse me.” I made my escape, heading straight for the outdoor parking lot. Cold rain lashed the car roof as I slipped into it. Winona seemed displeased and followed me into the car. The moment the door clicked shut, she lunged at me—pressing me against the driver’s seat with a fierce kiss. Her fingers slid to the back of my neck, tracing the small mole there like she was reclaiming a brand. Her eyes narrowed, a glint of anger flashing beneath their half-lowered lids. “Evan Xander, you’ll only ever belong to me.” She provocatively unbuckled my belt and straddled me, about to kiss me again, when her phone vibrated. A message popped up. I glanced at the number — Yvon’s. “I forgot I still have clients to entertain…” she said smoothly, flawless in her act. I stared at her perfectly composed face, every inch a performance — then sank my teeth into her collarbone with sudden fury. Emotions like a taut string about to snap. I grabbed her neck from behind, flipped her roughly onto the leather seat. Her eyes widened, no time to resist before I crushed her with a violent kiss. It wasn’t a kiss—it was a devouring. She whimpered and struggled, but I only pressed harder, knuckles turning red as I clenched. My knee pried her legs apart firmly. I plunged in, deep and unrelenting, again and again—piercing, crushing, like I was breaking her lies with every thrust. Pain furrowed her brows, yet she gasped and gave in, hips lifted instinctively, trembling with every thrust. Outside, cold rain drummed on the car window, but inside, a burning burial raged. Before the final climax, I whispered into her ear: “This is the last time.” She paused, seemingly not understanding. Then her purse lit up. I froze, instantly pulling away and buckling my belt. I didn’t look at her again. It took a while for Winona to come back to herself. She parted her lips to ask something—then her phone rang again. She paused, then rasped, “I have to get back to the banquet.” And with that, she adjusted her gown and left. **** At three a.m., Beverly Hills was eerily silent. I stood motionless in the center of the bedroom. My suitcase lay open on the bed, packed with only essentials: passport, cash, and that original Chopin score. My phone lit up — a message from Winona: “Yvon helped me secure that land. I have to entertain a few government officials tonight. Don’t wait up.” My fingers hovered over the screen for a long time, but I didn’t reply. Yvon had sunk to shameless depths—I sneered, but wasn’t surprised. After all, he’d impersonated me more than once. Outside, Los Angeles still glittered—a sleepless city that never dims for anyone’s departure. I picked up the photo on the nightstand: Winona, leaning on my shoulder during our Maldives honeymoon, smiling as if nothing would ever change. “It was all a show from the start…” I tossed the photo into the trash and turned to the safe behind the wardrobe. Inside lay my final card — a share certificate for 3% of Xander Pharmaceuticals, quietly transferred to me by my father on my twentieth birthday. Even Yvon never knew it existed. Just as I was zipping up my suitcase, my phone buzzed. A message from Yvon — a photo of Winona, kneeling by his bed in nothing but a shirt, holding a bowl of sobering soup. [Thanks for training Winona so well, big brother.] And another line of text, [By the way, check the safe in her study. Surprise awaits.] I went straight to the study. The safe was hidden behind an original Monet. What was the code? Our wedding date? No. Yvon’s birthday? I tried—and it opened immediately. Inside, among some documents, lay a velvet box. Opening it revealed a pair of platinum rings glittering under the light — similar in style to mine and Winona’s wedding bands but engraved inside with “W&I 4ever.” My phone started vibrating relentlessly. Yvon’s texts came flooding in like snowflakes: [Did you know Winona’s always loved me?] [Her marriage to you was just to stop you from stealing my inheritance!] [She said the only way she could fuck you was by imagining you were me.] [She was too excited on my bed tonight, so she’s a bit sleepless. I gave her medicine. Tomorrow, during your recital, she’ll probably still be in my bed. She won’t even show up. Evan Xander, everything that belongs to you will become mine — including Winona.] I slammed my phone against the wall, shards scattering. The cracked screen reflected my twisted face… I took a deep breath. Then another. Anger would ruin the carefully laid plans. As the first morning light poured through the floor-to-ceiling windows, my heart was cold again — sharp as a surgeon’s blade. I took out the SIM card, snapped the phone in two, and threw the pieces into the trash.

The sound of the suitcase snapping shut echoed sharply in the silence. I left the signed divorce papers under Winona’s favorite champagne glass, pressing them down. In the dim light before dawn, I drove toward the Burbank Concert Hall. There was still fog ahead, but it didn’t matter. I’ve always made it through to the morning. The concert hall lights glowed like a haze through the rainy night. “Are you sure about this?” Tina asked over the phone. “Faking your death is a felony.” I glanced at the mannequin in the dressing room, dressed identically in my performance suit. “Worse than pretending to love someone for seven years?” I replied. Winona’s betrayal and Yvon’s mocking laughter last night still echoed in my mind. Backstage was deserted. It took me two hours to set everything up—the timed ignition device, scattered traces of life in the dressing room. Everything had to be perfect, just like every note I’ve ever played. By noon, the staff had begun to arrive. I lay backstage, feigning rest, while carefully tracking everyone’s movements—the stage manager, lighting crew, security—memorizing every location to ensure no one would be hurt in the fire. Tina had planted her people with the fire and police departments. Once the fire broke out, the “corpse” would be reduced to something beyond recognition. “Mr. Xander, you look pale,” the young makeup artist said, concern in her eyes. “Just nerves,” I forced a smile. “Today’s program is… demanding.” Especially the last piece: Funeral March. A requiem for dead love, dead trust, and the soon-to-be-dead Evan Xander. By 6 p.m., the audience began to file in. I stood backstage, peeking through a gap in the curtain at the growing crowd. At precisely 7 o’clock, the performance was set to begin. “Five minutes, Mr. Xander,” the stage manager whispered. I nodded, adjusting the platinum tie clip Winona gave me three days ago—the anniversary gift. Ironically, it would be the key identifier on my “body.” “Mr. Xander? It’s time.” The stagehand’s voice pulled me back. I took a deep breath and stepped onto the stage. All 700 seats were filled under the glow of the spotlight. Bow. Sit. The moment my fingers touched the keys, the world fell silent. They danced across the keyboard while my soul floated above it all, watching the farewell like a ghost. Moonlight Sonata mourned, Revolutionary Etude raged, Mariage d’Amour wept—each one telling a chapter of my life. Before the final piece, I glanced into the audience. In the VIP section, Tina sat alone, nodding slightly, her blue eyes shining with unease under the dim light. “The next piece is Chopin’s Funeral March,” I said into the mic, my voice echoing through the hall. “Dedicated to all that once was beautiful… and is no more.” The first note fell. A soft click came from inside the piano. The timer had started. In three minutes, the flames would rise. The music surged like a tide, each note peeling back my wounds, raw and bleeding. By the second movement, I smelled smoke. People began to shift, uneasy—but the music still held them captive. Third movement. A thread of smoke rose from beneath the piano. —Time to go. “Fire!” someone finally screamed. Chaos erupted instantly. I kept playing until the flames licked the piano lid. Fire shot up from the stage like a monster unchained. “Mr. Xander! Get out!” a stagehand grabbed my arm. Tina stood still. Our eyes met. She gave the faintest nod. “My sheet music!” I shouted, feigning panic. “It’s still in there!” I broke free and ran back into the flames. I darted backstage through the smoke and pressed the platinum tie clip into the mannequin’s plastic finger joints. Then I slipped out the side exit—just as planned. Tina’s car was already waiting. Behind me, the dome of the concert hall began to collapse, firelight swallowing the LA’s skyline. A black sedan pulled up to the alley on cue. I slid into the backseat. The driver said nothing, just handed me an envelope. A new passport. New name: Victor Ducrest. Swiss-American. “To the airport,” I rasped. “Don’t look back.” As we drove off, the fire truck sirens wailed through the city. I rolled down the window and tossed my phone into a passing garbage truck. Let it all turn to ash. At Yvon’s villa, Winona slept deeply, unaware of it all. Calls from the Lowell family’s butler kept lighting up her screen. She grunted and silenced them in her sleep. After a dozen attempts, she finally stirred, sensing something was wrong. “What is it?” “Miss… Mr. Xander—he… the piano caught fire during the concert… He was burned alive!” “We tried everything, but… it was too late.”

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When he found his urologist to be his brother’s fiancée – the first beauty in the country, he panicked and tried to escape, only to be gently caressed by her, “You know, your brother is impotent. And you…” With that she bent down, staring at the unusual bulge of his manhood. “You are so sensitive.” Then she swallowed the tip deep, down her throat. *** Ethan Shaw sat in the hospital waiting room, his knuckles tapping lightly against his knee as his gaze remained fixed on the examination room door. He was here for a pre-employment physical. With top grades in his year, he had finally landed a summer internship at a listed company—only to be stalled by a so-called “private examination” at the hospital. “Ethan Shaw.” The door opened, and a voice called out—cool, crisp, and emotionless. He looked up—and froze. Standing at the door was a woman in a white lab coat. Her figure was graceful, her features sharply refined, her skin nearly translucent in its fairness. That face—he knew it too well. Vivian Reed. His brother Ryan’s fiancée. Ryan, the so-called eldest son of the Shaw family, was in fact just the bastard child of their father’s long-time mistress. “Come in,” Vivian said without even glancing at him, her tone all businesslike. Maybe she didn’t recognize him. After all, he’d grown up in boarding schools and only started coming home on weekends since entering college. But he knew her. He knew her so well, it ached. He even kept a hidden photo of her in his drawer. She was, after all, the most beautiful woman in the country. Ethan stiffened and stepped into the exam room, perching awkwardly on the examination bed. Sweat slicked his palms. His entire body was taut—like a live wire. “Take off your pants. I need to perform a peripheral check,” Vivian said calmly as she pulled on a pair of gloves. Ethan’s face flushed deep red. “C-Can I… ask for another doctor?” “Why?” She looked up, her eyes cool and unreadable. “I’m the attending physician. Are you questioning my credentials?” Gritting his teeth, Ethan closed his eyes and complied. As the exam progressed, the air between them grew thick, charged. Her gloved fingers brushed over the sensitive tip of his length—clinical, or intentional? He couldn’t tell. Just as his heart felt ready to burst out of his chest, he heard a soft laugh escape her lips. “So sensitive.” His eyes snapped open—Vivian was staring straight at his aroused shaft, an unreadable glint in her gaze. Admiration? Curiosity? “You—” He moved to cover himself, but she caught his wrist in a swift, practiced motion. “Don’t move,” she murmured. “We’re not done yet.” Then, slowly—deliberately—she peeled off her gloves and reached out with bare hands. One wrapped around his flushed tip. The other fondled the swollen sac below with a practiced touch. “P-Please… stop…” Ethan gasped, already at his limit. But the next second shattered whatever control he had left. Vivian Reed bent down—and took him into her mouth. … Shame and disbelief nearly drove Ethan mad. When the exam finally ended, he scrambled to put on his pants and rushed out of the hospital like he was fleeing a crime scene. His heart pounded like a drum all the way home. But just as he dropped his backpack, he froze. He found something buried inside—a white lace panty, still carrying her familiar scent. He sat dazed on the edge of his bed, mind blank. When he stepped into the shower and looked into the mirror, he caught sight of a faint love bite on his neck. “Shit…” he hissed, biting back a groan as he remembered the way her fingers had brushed over his Adam’s apple. His body burned with heat, a confusing blend of rage, shame… and desire. He knew this was wrong. She was his brother’s fiancée. But those eyes— They had dared him. Mocked him. Vivian Reed, are you out of your mind? After the shower, he stepped out with a towel around his neck—only to hear Ryan’s voice from the living room: “Ethan, I heard you went for a physical today? What’s the matter—something wrong down there? Want me to recommend a urologist?” Ryan lounged on the sofa, legs arrogantly crossed, smirking like a victorious fox. “I’m perfectly fine,” Ethan said coldly. “Tsk, such a temper.” Ryan sneered. “Don’t forget—you’re living and eating off the Shaw family. Or more precisely, off my mom and dad.” Ethan clenched his jaw and said nothing. Ever since his mother died ten years ago, everything had changed. His home was no longer his. His father was no longer his father. That mistress and her bastard son had moved in. His mother’s portrait was taken down. His room was given to Ryan. He was sent to boarding school. And the Shaw Group’s shares? Transferred entirely to Ryan. He was nothing but a living, breathing nobody. “Oh, by the way,”Ryan said lazily, “my fiancée will be at tonight’s dinner. Try not to embarrass yourself.” Ethan’s heart skipped a beat. Images from this morning flashed before his eyes—and his pants tightened again. Does she even know I’m her future brother-in-law?

The night was heavy and still as the gates of the Shaw estate slowly opened. Vivian Reed stood at the entrance, holding a box of tonic supplements in her hand, a perfectly measured smile resting on her lips. It was Ethan who opened the door. Their eyes met—and for a moment, time stopped. The air thickened, as if someone had seized it by the throat. But she only tilted her head slightly, her voice polite and distant. “Hello, may I ask if tonight’s family dinner is being held here?” Her tone was calm, unhurried, as clear and detached as a stranger’s. Ethan’s throat bobbed, his fingers tightening against the doorframe. He gave a low “Mm,” and stepped aside. “Come in.” As she passed by, her fingertips brushed across the back of his hand. It wasn’t accidental—it felt deliberate, as if to drag him back into the chaos of the morning. The dinner had already begun. “Vivian, come sit next to Ryan,” Ethan’s stepmother Karen said warmly, pulling her toward the long table. She sat beside Ryan Shaw, gently serving him food and pouring his wine, smiling with the gentle ease of the perfect fiancée—at least, in the eyes of others. Ethan’s father Victor Shaw watched the loving pair with satisfaction, nodding in approval. Only Ethan sat across from the scene, like an invisible figure in a family portrait. He spaced out and dropped his fork, bending down to pick them up. And then he froze. Beneath the tablecloth, Vivian’s legs were crossed, her skirt had ridden high, and she wasn’t wearing any underlayers. That flash of white nearly knocked the air out of his lungs. Her red-soled heels dangled slowly, teasingly. Ethan’s pupils contracted. His heartbeat erupted in his chest. He stood abruptly, feigning calm. But then, under the table, her foot slid forward—brushing against his knee. He froze. She, however, went on as if nothing had happened, picking up a bite of food and smiling sweetly. “Ryan doesn’t like scallions. I remembered.” Ryan ruffled her hair fondly and chuckled. “Vivian’s always so thoughtful.” The others burst out laughing, teasing them. Ethan, though, felt like he was sitting on needles, his breath catching. Under the table, her foot continued to brush deeper, against his sac—soft, slow, like a snake wrapping itself around its prey. No one else noticed. Vivian turned her head slightly to glance at him, her lips curling into a subtle smile. What the hell is this woman playing at? Just as Ethan clenched his jaw and was about to stand, Victor Shaw raised his wine glass and stood up: “Everyone, since we’re all here tonight, I’d like to share some wonderful news—” The room went quiet. Victor spoke with ceremony: “Vivian and Ryan were promised to each other as children by our two families. Now that they’re of age, it’s time to formalize the union. I’ve decided—next month, at Old Mr. Reed’s birthday banquet—we’ll host their engagement ceremony. A double celebration.” “Wonderful!” Applause broke out. Vivian lowered her gaze, smiled faintly. She neither agreed nor declined. But in that moment, something dimmed in her eyes. Ethan’s heart sank. This engagement had originally been arranged for him by his late mother, Grace Sinclair, before she passed. But after he’d been sent to boarding school, Victor publicly announced that Ryan was the eldest son of the Shaw family—and the future heir to the Shaw Corporation. Even the engagement had been reassigned—from Ethan to Ryan. Vivian had only been four at the time—already a bargaining chip in this powerful alliance. — Later that night. Ethan tossed and turned in bed, unable to sleep. All he could think about was the feel of her foot brushing against his lower part. Frustrated, he got up, threw on a jacket, and stepped out to use the bathroom. As he walked along the second-floor hallway, he heard faint sounds ahead—from Ryan’s room. The door was ajar. He hadn’t meant to look—but curiosity, and a restless urge he couldn’t name—made him stop in his tracks. He leaned in slightly. Inside, the lights were dim. Vivian was kneeling on the carpet, her shoulders bare, hair in disarray, a trace of blood on her lips. Ryan stood in front of her, grabbing her chin as he shouted, “Were you trying to seduce my brother during the toast just now?!” “I wasn’t,” she said hoarsely. “You’re being paranoid.” “You’d better not be playing games with me. Or I’ll send those photos of you to the press—” Before he finished, a harsh slap landed on her cheek, snapping her head to the side. Ethan’s mind went blank. His fists clenched tight, knuckles cracking. Bang—he kicked the door open with one furious punch.

“Stop!” Ethan Shaw burst through the door, yanking Ryan’s hand away and shielding Vivian Reed, who was trembling on her knees, behind him. A flicker of shock crossed Vivian’s bruised face—her lip split and eyes wide with disbelief. Ryan’s face twisted instantly. “What the fuck are you doing?!” “Are you insane? She’s your fiancée, not your punching bag!” Ethan was furious, fists clenched so tightly his knuckles turned white, barely restraining himself from losing control. The commotion had woken the entire Shaw estate. Lights snapped on. Footsteps thundered upstairs. Soon, Victor Shaw, his second wife Karen, and the servants all rushed to the scene. “What’s going on?” Victor frowned. “What is all this noise in the middle of the night?” Ryan sneered, his voice laced with venom. “Dad, he barged in while I was with Vivian and acted like a dick.” “Bullshit!” Ethan roared. Ryan pressed on, fueling the fire. “If you don’t believe me, ask her. He’s been staring at her all night. Something’s clearly wrong with him.” Ryan’s mother Karen threw her arms around him. “Oh, Ryan, stop—your brother has always been jealous of you. Now he wants to steal your fiancée too? It’s disgusting.” Ethan’s chest heaved with rage. All logic burned away. “That’s not true! Ethan didn’t—!” Vivian tried to speak, but Ryan jerked her toward him. The look in his eyes was a silent, cruel warning: one word, and those photos—the ones that could ruin her—would be everywhere. And then Ethan let out a bitter laugh. “Jealous of you? Of course I am. From the moment you and your mother moved in, you became the eldest son—I became nothing. You got the master bedroom, I got the storage closet. The walls are full of your happy family photos. I’m not even allowed one picture of my mom.” He turned to his father, stepped closer, eyes burning. “No one knows she was the legal wife. That woman with you now? is just a cheap streetwalker.” “That’s enough!” Victor snapped, and without warning, slapped Ethan hard across the face. Smack! The sound echoed like a thunderclap. Silence fell over the hallway. Ethan’s head jerked to the side. For a moment, his ears rang and blood trickled from the corner of his mouth. “You’re ruthless. Do you even remember my mother?” “If you dare stir up trouble again—get out of my house!” Victor growled through clenched teeth. Ethan didn’t argue. He just chuckled—soft, cold, and hollow. He glanced at Vivian, whose wrist was still gripped by Ryan. In his eyes: regret. And shame. Regret for losing temper towards someone who doesn’t give a fuck about him at all. Shame for being humiliated like this in front of the woman he liked since young. “Fine. I’ll leave.” Just as he was about to storm off— “Wait—” Vivian broke free from Ryan’s grasp, ran to Ethan, and whispered, “The engagement party… ten days from now. You have to come.” Ethan looked at her—a girl so small, so fragile—and gave a faint nod. Then he walked out without another word, into the pounding storm. — Ethan sat on the front steps, rain soaking his hair, lashes, and open wounds. He looked like a discarded child—battered, abandoned, and completely alone. “Mom!” he cried out into the storm. The image of her dying face flashed in his mind. Her hand on his cheek, her voice gentle: “Don’t worry, Ethan. He’ll find you one day.” But Ethan never understood what she meant—even after she was gone. The one person who had truly loved him, gone forever. Then, through the downpour, blinding headlights pierced the night. A convoy of black sedans rolled to a stop before him. Car doors opened in unison. Dozens of men in black suits stepped out with military precision, cold and composed. The man leading them held a black umbrella. He approached Ethan, bowed respectfully. “Young master. The Godfather requests your return.” Ethan looked up. His eyes were cold as steel, rain streaking down his face like tears.

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The day I received my study abroad permit, my husband, Colonel Alex Grant, was diagnosed with cancer. He begged me to give up my spot so he could live. “Leila,” he said, “only Molly’s father can cure my illness. His only condition is that Molly takes your place to study abroad. I’m not afraid of death, but without me, how will you and Freya survive?” Looking at Alex’s bloodshot eyes, I abandoned my studies and devoted myself to caring for him and our daughter. Yet three Christmases later, his beloved Molly Curtis returned from her studies abroad, and Alex embraced her with a kiss. “Leila is such a fool,” he said. “I’ve been faking my illness for three Christmases, and she never caught on. Thankfully she earned enough money so you didn’t have to work while studying.” Our daughter Freya Grant happily jumped into her arms, calling her “Mom.” I was completely shocked, and in my daze, I crashed into an oncoming truck. When I opened my eyes again, I had been reborn to Christmas 1980, the day I received my study abroad permit. Just after getting the permit, my husband Alex hugged me and began to cry. “Leila, the doctors say I have cancer and don’t have long to live. How will you and Freya manage?” He looked utterly vulnerable. “I’m not afraid to die, but I’m worried about you and Freya!” Suppressing my disgust, I patted his back to comfort him. “Don’t worry, I’ll definitely take good care of Freya.” Alex froze. “Why aren’t you upset at all?” I deliberately put on a sad face and sighed, “What good would being upset do? This is fate. I got the opportunity to study abroad, but you’re going to die. How unfortunate.” Alex’s expression turned awkward. “Actually, there is a way to cure my illness. Molly’s father is an expert in this field. He can cure me. But his only condition is that Molly takes your place to study abroad.” He finally revealed his true purpose. In my previous life, he hadn’t been so quick to tell me all this because as soon as I heard about his cancer diagnosis, I panicked and immediately borrowed money for his treatment, begging others to find doctors to save him. As a result, I fell into their carefully crafted web of lies. Alex made me surrender my study permit so his first love, Molly, could take my place abroad. To save him, I had to give up my dream of studying overseas and devoted my heart and soul to our family. From that day on, I lost everything. Because of his illness, I borrowed a large sum of money from friends and family. For the next three Christmases, I worked multiple jobs to pay off the debt. But in the 80s, money wasn’t easy to come by. I had to work tirelessly at three factories every day. In reality, that money became Molly’s tuition for studying abroad and spending money for their family’s entertainment. Only before my death did I discover how completely I had been fooled. After being reborn, I would never let these people control me again. My six-year-old daughter Freya ran over and hugged Alex. “Daddy, I want Molly to be my mom. Can we go out with mom? She said she’d buy me candy!” Alex’s expression changed instantly. He quickly said, “Don’t talk nonsense! Molly is not your mother.” He glanced at me cautiously. “Leila, don’t overthink it. Molly’s just been so good to her that she misspoke. Freya doesn’t have many relatives, and Molly likes her. That’s a good thing.” I laughed inwardly. Without Alex’s encouragement behind my back, how could Freya have become so close to Molly? So he had been secretly letting Freya call Molly “mom” all along. But none of it mattered anymore. Alex and Freya both had someone they preferred, which was certainly for the best. Freya said dejectedly, “But Daddy, you told me to call her mom.” “Shut up!” Alex snapped. Freya jumped in fright, then ran away crying. In the past, I would have chased after her to comfort her, telling her Alex didn’t mean to yell and that he loved her. But now, I remained unmoved, coldly watching as she tripped over the doorstep and cried even louder. I would not keep an ungrateful child.

Three days later, I’ll be heading to California with my study permit, boarding a flight to my dream school. I ignored both of them and took all the necessary documents to my supervisor Caleb’s office to submit the divorce paperwork. Alex’s special status meant that a normal divorce procedure wouldn’t work. I wrote several pages of applications, documenting Alex and Molly’s inappropriate relationship in meticulous detail. Caleb had long noticed their unusual relationship and just sighed. “Ms. Welch, your studies abroad are also for work purposes. Don’t worry, we’ll definitely approve your divorce.” When I returned home to pack my things after completing the paperwork, Alex came back with Freya. Freya had stopped crying and was carrying a pretty transparent bag filled with various candies. I remembered Molly had bought her these candies several times before. She deliberately criticized me in front of Freya, “Leila, you’re too strict with Freya. It’s normal for children to like candy. Having a few occasionally won’t hurt.” At the time, I didn’t want to create an awkward situation, so I said nothing in front of Molly. After she left, I took away all the candy and advised Freya to eat less sweets to prevent cavities. But Molly had influenced her too deeply, and she became increasingly resistant to my restrictions. When Freya saw me, she seemed to remember all the candy I had confiscated and quickly hid the bag behind her back. I frowned instinctively. “You already have so many bad teeth. Why are you still eating so much candy?” Alex said, “Freya was crying earlier, so we bought some candy to cheer her up.” I regretted my words as soon as they left my mouth. No wonder Freya wasn’t close to me since she was little. Alex always compromised. Moreover, Molly indulged her completely. Children can’t distinguish right from wrong, so naturally they think whoever spoils them is the good person. Sure enough, after meeting my eyes, Freya boldly shouted, “You’re a bad mom! Don’t try to take my candy! Molly is better! Molly is my real mom! I hate you!” People say children’s words are childish and funny, but sometimes a child’s words can be the most hurtful. I calmly said, “Then you can go to Molly from now on. I’m going abroad, and no one will take care of you. Let Molly be your mother from now on.” Freya pouted and threw herself into Alex’s arms, crying loudly. “Daddy, she’s a bad mom! She doesn’t want me anymore!” “Leila, stop talking nonsense!” Alex frowned and scolded me angrily. “Freya is only six years old. She doesn’t understand anything! How can you say such harsh things to her?” Looking coldly at their deep affection, I suddenly pictured my past life where Alex held Freya in one arm and embraced Molly with the other. That was truly a harmonious family of three. I sneered, “Without your indulgence, how could Freya possibly be so dependent on Molly? Alex, isn’t this what you’ve been hoping for? Don’t you want Molly to replace me as Freya’s mother and your wife?” Alex instantly became furious and shouted, “Do you have to fight with me over something so trivial? Do you have to be so harsh to a six-year-old child? “And you absolutely must study abroad, right? You don’t care at all that I might have a terminal illness, do you? “Yes, now that you have great prospects, you want to abandon me, our daughter, and this family, is that it? “Leila, you’re so selfish!” Watching him yell and judge me, trying to make me feel guilty, I found it ridiculous. “Alex, do you really have a terminal illness?” I asked. Alex opened and closed his mouth, not answering immediately. I sneered, “Why don’t we go to California together and get a re-examination at a major hospital to see if you really have a terminal illness?”

Alex was clearly flustered, but the composure he’d developed over the years quickly helped him regain his calm. “Leila, you don’t believe what I’m saying? I’m so disappointed in you!” I couldn’t tell if he was guilty or genuinely angry as he picked up Freya and left the room. I had no interest in dealing with them and continued packing my things. During our five-year marriage, I had accumulated many items, most of which were gifts from Alex, including letters he wrote before we married, overflowing with his admiration and affection for me. I kept these letters in a candy box. Now as I flipped through them one by one, looking at his familiar handwriting and the declarations of love I had memorized long ago, I still felt heartbroken. There was also a pair of dolls he brought back for me from his business trip to California, one male and one female, both incredibly cute. That night, he kissed me for the first time and promised in my ear, “Leila, I’ll love you for a lifetime, no, for lifetimes to come, I will always love you.” Yet in just five short years, his promises had already turned to nothing. His love had an expiration date of barely a thousand days. Alex used to be so good to me. When we were dating, he often took me cycling along small paths. The wind would blow his white shirt until it billowed out, the very picture of youthful freedom. When I was sick and had no appetite, he would specially go to the largest candy store in California to buy me sweets. He’d return after dark, yet still come to my doorstep that same night, offering those sweet candies to me. But all his kindness toward me completely vanished after Molly appeared. Molly was beautiful and came from a good family. A country girl like me couldn’t compare to her. Alex no longer prioritized me, no longer saw me as his only one, and no longer loved only me. These past few days, I had been slowly sorting through my belongings, packing everything related to him into a large box, which I then dragged out to the yard and threw directly into the garbage dump. On my way back, I passed a low flower wall and suddenly overheard Alex and Molly’s conversation. Molly’s voice was tearful: “Alex, can’t Leila really give up her spot for me? She doesn’t even speak German. What could she possibly do abroad? Why won’t she give up her place? Besides, doesn’t she care about your health at all? Are you that unimportant to her?” She was clearly trying to drive a wedge between us, but Alex couldn’t hear it at all. He embraced the sobbing Molly, tenderly stroking her head to comfort her: “Molly, don’t worry, I’ll figure out the study abroad situation. Leila always listens to me; she won’t go against my wishes.” Molly looked up at him with tear-filled eyes: “Really?” Alex nodded solemnly. Immediately, Molly’s eyes lit up. She wrapped her arms around Alex’s neck and kissed him on the cheek: “Alex, you’re so good to me!” Alex smiled somewhat shyly. I took a deep breath, no longer interested in watching the two of them, and walked away. That night, as I lay in bed with the lights off, nearly asleep, Alex slipped under the covers. He was shirtless as he embraced me from behind, his voice husky in my ear: “Leila, are you asleep? We haven’t made love in a long time. Tonight…”

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When my good friend Layla Parker found out that I had switched the condom used by my husband Matthew Miller with the one used by her husband Carter Johnson’s father, Nathan Johnson, she broke down in fury right on the spot. In my previous life, Layla was abused by Carter and asked to stay at my place. Feeling sorry for her, I agreed to let her stay for a while. But I never expected that half a month later, Layla would “accidentally” discover she was pregnant. Just as I was about to ask Layla what happened, Carter came and broke Matthew’s legs, and even took us to court. In court, Layla tearfully accused Matthew of having ill intentions toward her, raping her while she stayed at our house, and claimed that not only did I fail to stop Matthew, but I even helped him harm her. Matthew and I denied everything, but Layla produced an amniocentesis report showing that the baby in her womb was indeed Matthew’s. We were condemned by the public, and the court sentenced both Matthew and me to prison and ordered us to pay Layla ten million dollars in emotional damages. In the end, Matthew and I went to prison, while Layla used the ten million dollars we paid her to get an abortion, then lived happily ever after with Carter. When I opened my eyes again, I had returned to the day Layla asked to stay at my house. My head was throbbing, but looking around at my familiar home, I realized I wasn’t on the streets being beaten and cursed at, nor in a damp prison cell despised by everyone—I was home. “Naomi Brooks, you’re so kind. If it weren’t for you, Carter would have beaten me to death,” came Layla’s familiar voice. I turned around immediately and saw Layla standing before me in tears. That’s when I knew for certain I had been reborn. I had returned to the day when Layla begged me to rescue her from domestic violence, and I, soft-hearted, brought her back to my home. “Naomi, your house is so spacious. It must be worth at least a few million dollars, right?” Before I could speak, Layla walked right in, her eyes filled with greed and envy. Just then, Matthew came home from work. Seeing him, Layla quickly fixed her hair and even touched up her makeup before approaching him softly, “This must be Matthew, right? I’ve only seen him once at your wedding. He’s so handsome.” As she spoke, she deliberately took a step forward, her posture extremely flirtatious. Matthew frowned slightly, then stepped back, saying, “Thank you for the compliment.” I knew he was uncomfortable with Layla. Matthew’s family were businesspeople, so he was quite wealthy and often targeted by women with ulterior motives. Because of this, he could easily see through people’s intentions. In my previous life, he had awkwardly warned me that Layla wasn’t as innocent as she appeared. At the time, I thought he was looking down on my friend. Now, I realized how stupid I had been. Just like in my previous life, seeing that Matthew didn’t say much, Layla suddenly burst into tears, “Naomi, you’re so lucky to have found such a good husband, unlike me. I have to earn money every day and still get abused.” As she spoke, she kept glancing at Matthew, deliberately acting pitiful, waiting for his reaction. Sure enough, hearing this, Matthew frowned and said, “Domestic abuse? My company has professional lawyers. If you need help, you can talk to Naomi about it.” Layla exclaimed excitedly, “Really, Matthew? Then I really need to thank you properly.” I interrupted Layla, saying, “Matthew, don’t mention lawyers. They just had an argument.” I no longer advised her to get divorced, but deliberately said, “Layla, have you considered that maybe you’re being abused because you’re the problem? You’d better listen to me. Go back and apologize to Carter, then beg for his forgiveness. You might make up tomorrow.” Hearing my words, Matthew seemed surprised, as I was never one to advise people to reconcile. Layla was equally surprised and asked confusedly, “Naomi, how can you say that? I’m the victim.” “Victim?” I raised an eyebrow at her and said, “If you put it that way, it’s a different matter. If you’re a victim, then Carter is deliberately causing harm. In that case, he would go to prison. Are you sure you want Carter to go to prison?” “I…” Layla didn’t know what to say. I laughed coldly inside, because of course she wouldn’t want that. After all, if Carter went to prison, who would help her act out the grand finale of her scheme?

Sensing the awkward atmosphere, Matthew made an excuse and went to the study for a meeting, leaving only Layla and me in the living room. Seeing this, Layla immediately became impatient. “Naomi, why did you say those things in front of Matthew earlier? Are you trying to stop your husband from helping me?” I struggled to control the hatred inside me and chuckled lightly, “How could that be? I’m just afraid you might lose a man who loves you. After all, I know your husband loves you very much. If he beat you like this, it must be because he doesn’t know how to express his love for you.” Layla was stunned by my words. “You…” After a long pause, she said, “I’m going to take a shower first.” Then she hurriedly left. Watching her walk away, I smirked coldly, memories of my previous life flooding back. Layla was my college classmate. Because of her beauty, she had many suitors. In the end, for money, she chose Carter. However, just a few months after their marriage, Carter went bankrupt due to an accident. The once loving couple immediately began fighting, and their Instagram was filled with insults and complaints about each other. Initially, Layla and I weren’t close. After I married Matthew, she became very interested in Matthew’s family background and began contacting me frequently, becoming my “good friend.” When she was abused by Carter, she came to me crying in the middle of the night. Feeling sorry for her, I didn’t refuse and let her stay at my house for a while. But after moving in, she deliberately showed off her figure in front of Matthew, repeatedly pretended to be pitiful, and even pretended to enter the wrong room in the middle of the night, walking into Matthew’s study. Realizing something was wrong, Matthew used business trips as an excuse to stay away until he returned half a month later. What I didn’t expect was that Layla would discover she was pregnant at that time. Just as I was about to ask Layla what had happened, Carter came and broke Matthew’s leg, and even took us to court. In court, Layla tearfully accused Matthew of having bad intentions toward her, raping her while she was staying at our house, and accused me of not only failing to stop Matthew but even helping him hurt her. Matthew and I strongly denied it, but Layla produced an amniocentesis report showing that the child in her womb was indeed Matthew’s. In front of the media cameras, she cried and said, “I always considered Naomi my best friend. But I never thought she would be the devil who pushed me into hell, and Matthew is even more of a bastard.” Because of this statement, Matthew and I were cursed by netizens. After Layla reported us to the police, we were thrown in prison and even required to pay Layla one million dollars in emotional damages. In the end, Matthew and I died miserably in prison, while Layla used the million dollars we paid her to get an abortion, then lived happily ever after with Carter. Thinking about all this, I gritted my teeth in hatred. In this life, I would definitely expose Layla’s true intentions!

The next day, I secretly installed surveillance cameras at home. After Matthew left, I also made up an excuse to go out. Then, from a nearby café, I opened my phone to monitor everything Layla was doing in my house. She walked into my bedroom, wearing my luxurious pajamas and spraying my perfume. She snorted coldly, then muttered to herself, “How could such a wealthy man like a boring woman like Naomi? How could her figure ever compare to mine?” As she spoke, she took out my limited-edition Hermès handbag and wore it, her expression filled with vanity. Just then, Carter called Layla. She answered impatiently, “What is it?” “Any progress? Did Matthew sleep with you last night?” Carter’s anxious voice came through the phone. Layla sneered, “No. He’s incredibly stupid. I tried to seduce him, but he didn’t respond at all. He might be gay.” Carter became more anxious, “You’re useless! You’re usually so good at seducing other men. Why are you failing now?” “Psh!” Layla immediately cursed, “Carter, how dare you question me? If you hadn’t almost been killed by debt collectors, would I need to seduce other men? Besides, he’s the one who refuses to sleep with me. What can I do about it?” Carter retorted, “You’re so stupid! If you don’t sleep with him, you can’t get pregnant.” Hearing Carter’s words, Layla suddenly thought of something and excitedly said, “Technology is so advanced nowadays. As long as I get Matthew’s condom, I can get pregnant with his child.” Then, she lowered her voice and started plotting with Carter. Due to the limited audio quality of the surveillance, I couldn’t hear the details of their plan. However, by now, I had a pretty good idea of what they were trying to do. That evening, I returned home. As soon as I walked in, I saw Matthew hurriedly coming out of the bedroom, followed by a disheveled Layla. Seeing me return, Matthew immediately hugged me and nervously said, “Naomi, don’t misunderstand. She said her clothes were damaged and asked me to check. I was about to refuse when she suddenly started undressing.” Worried that Matthew might say something he shouldn’t, I quickly interrupted him: “Matthew, how could I misunderstand you?” Then, I directly took Matthew’s arm and pretended to casually look at Layla: “Layla, are you okay?” “I… I’ll go to the guest room first.” Layla suddenly covered her mouth and ran back to the guest room. In my previous life, Layla had also made this gesture. The reason she acted so pitiful was that she had already turned on her phone to record and fabricate “evidence” that Matthew had harmed her. It was because of this “evidence” being spread that Matthew and I couldn’t defend ourselves in court and were directly sent to prison. In this life, I want to see what tricks she can play under surveillance. Matthew wanted to explain what had just happened, but I hugged him and deliberately said softly, “Matthew, I’ve missed you so much. Don’t worry about Layla. Go take a shower.” Understanding my hint, Matthew smiled and said, “Wait for me.” Then he quickly went to shower. I took the opportunity to leave our bedroom door slightly ajar. Though not obvious, it was enough for Layla to hear our voices and know what we were doing. Matthew soon came out of the bathroom. Then, we didn’t finish until late into the night. He kissed me contentedly before casually tossing the condom into the trash can. I looked toward the door and noticed a silhouette in the gap. Then, I smiled coldly. Layla was indeed outside our bedroom. Just then, Matthew received a call from his company about a business error. He had to return to the office, and I volunteered to walk him downstairs. Matthew hurriedly drove away. At that moment, I took out my phone and checked the home security camera. Layla was rummaging through the trash can in our bedroom. She was truly disgusting! The next morning, Layla messaged me on WhatsApp saying she had reconciled with Carter and moved out of my house. I had anticipated this, so I ignored her and waited for her next move. Sure enough, less than two weeks later, just like in my previous life, Matthew and I received court summons. A police officer came directly to our home and said with contempt, “Matthew, Naomi, you’re suspected of illegal detention and rape. You need to come with us to the police station immediately.” Just like in my previous life, the police gave us no chance to explain, ignored our protests, and took us straight to the station. The media and reporters had already surrounded the police station entrance, with Layla, Carter, and their friends and family standing in the center. Seeing us brought in by the police, she looked extremely pleased, though pretending to be upset. She cried, “Naomi, you’re a monster. To please your husband, you tricked me into your home so he could rape me. You even helped him imprison me!” Carter’s acting was even better than Layla’s. “Naomi, my wife genuinely considered you a friend. How could you do something so horrible? I should kill you.” The police quickly stepped in to stop him, while the reporters around us were furious. One man said, “They’re such bastards to do something like this!” A woman agreed, “Naomi is inhuman, hurting even her own friend. She’s shameless!” Another man angrily added, “They’re a pair of scumbags. That poor girl.” Just like in my previous life, Matthew’s face turned red with anger. “You’re all insane! I didn’t rape her—she’s been constantly trying to seduce me. Her face is surgically altered. I find her repulsive.” Hearing his words, Layla cried, “Matthew, I knew you wouldn’t admit it. But I have crucial evidence—I’m pregnant. All I need is an amniocentesis to test the baby’s DNA, and we’ll know who the father is.” Her statement excited the crowd even more. They praised her for being brave and clever, knowing how to fight for herself. The police agreed and immediately contacted a medical team for DNA testing. Within two hours, the results were ready. At this moment, Carter and Layla were extremely smug, barely able to contain their smiles. But after opening the test results, the officer responsible for announcing them froze in place. “The DNA comparison shows that the father of this child is…” he said in shock, his voice cracking. “Nathan Johnson?”

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My academically averse sister, Alayna James, suddenly decided to apply for college and convinced our parents to marry me, Sienna James, off to Colonel Dylan Webber’s son, Austin Webber, planning to use the wedding gifts to fund her education. I knew it then—she had been reborn too. In my previous life, Alayna thought education was useless and married Austin right after high school graduation, enticed by the generous gifts he offered. Later, when Austin was reassigned to Adak, Alayna refused to follow him, complaining about the harsh environment. Meanwhile, I worked my way through college, secured a stable job, and moved into the city. Alayna began accepting bribes in the military district using Dylan’s name, which led to Dylan being investigated and ultimately punished by his superiors, resulting in Ella Webber, Austin’s mother, throwing her out. After the divorce, Alayna was tricked into stock trading in Los Angeles, and when the market crashed, she lost all the money our parents, Gavin James and Natalia James, had saved. Desperate, she came after me, threatening me with a knife to hand over my savings and house, hoping to use that money to recover. In the chaos, I was stabbed twelve times and died from blood loss. When I opened my eyes again, Alayna was convincing our parents to marry me off to Austin. I gladly accepted and immediately dropped out of school. “He’s the colonel’s son! What a great opportunity. If Sienna hadn’t brought them food back then, do you think you’d have this marriage prospect?” “So what if his father is a colonel? Austin is just a recruit now. If I hurry and get into college, I can work in the city later. Finding a rich boyfriend will be much easier then.” Gavin and Natalia kept trying to persuade her, but Alayna wouldn’t listen. Ten Christmases ago, when Austin and Ella first arrived at our farm, they were emaciated and nearly dying. No one dared approach them except me, who secretly brought them food and cotton clothes in the middle of the night. Because of this, the first thing Austin and Ella did after returning to the city was to propose to my family. In my previous life, Alayna took credit for my good deed. Since it was dark, Ella couldn’t see my face clearly and only asked which family’s child I was. Gavin and Natalia insisted that it was Alayna, their favorite daughter, who had delivered the supplies. I watched helplessly as Alayna married Austin and enjoyed her moment of glory. Gavin said, “College costs money. We’re poor—how are we supposed to pay for your education?” He slammed the table in anger, making it shake. Alayna replied, “Then let Sienna marry Austin. Ask his family for more money, and that’ll cover my college tuition.” Alayna knew that marrying Austin meant following him to Adak, likely never to return, yet she deliberately pushed me into it. She walked over to my spaghetti, snatched the book from my hands, the edges of the pages painfully scraping my palm. She said, “I’ve already told the teacher to cancel your enrollment. Give me your textbooks and workbooks—you won’t need school anymore.” She was informing me, not asking for my opinion. I looked up to meet Alayna’s gaze and smiled, “Sure.” Natalia, seeing Alayna’s determination, sighed. “You really won’t listen to reason. You’ll regret this later!” Then she turned to me. “You’re getting a great deal! When you marry into the Webber family, remember to introduce boyfriends to your sister. Forget about recruits like Austin—your sister will go to college, she should marry a lieutenant at least!” Gavin and Natalia were always like this, thinking of Alayna first whenever something good happened. They felt I didn’t deserve anything. Just because when I was born, Natalia was in pain for three whole days and nearly died in childbirth. Since I was little, Gavin and Natalia called me a disaster. So whenever Alayna bullied me, Gavin and Natalia thought she was avenging them. This time, sending away the “disaster” while earning tuition money for Alayna seemed like a good deal to Gavin and Natalia. They quickly responded to the matchmaker, saying they would double the originally agreed wedding gift amount, and the marriage was settled. The matchmaker agreed while rolling her eyes. As she left, I overheard her muttering, “All this fuss over the kindness of one meal—this family has no shame!”

The Austin family received word from the matchmaker, and although reluctant, they grudgingly agreed. That evening, gifts arrived at my home. Alayna paraded around the village wearing her expensive watch, head held high with pride. Gavin and Natalia counted the $1,200 over and over again. Yet their gift to me was merely a piece of old fabric. I stayed up all night using the sewing machine the Webber family sent to quickly make a shirt and a dress. Alayna mocked me from the side: “Is this for you? You’re about to get married and won’t be part of our family anymore. If you break this sewing machine, what will my mom use to make new clothes for me?” I cut the last thread and silently returned to my room. Seeing her blank test papers spread out, a cold smile appeared on my lips. I thought, “Alayna, you have no idea how much effort it takes to study in the city.” In my previous life, because of the village’s poor education, there were no teachers who understood the SAT. Gavin and Natalia wanted me to come home and farm, but I refused to accept that fate. I persistently sought help from visiting teachers in the village. After the teachers returned to the city, no one could teach me anymore. I relied on a pair of worn-out shoes to walk four miles to town to borrow study materials. During my free time, I sat under trees, buried in books. I either worked or studied, which is how I got accepted into the city’s top university. Gavin and Natalia loved to brag, never mentioning my hard work, only claiming I got into university after barely glancing at the textbooks. Alayna actually believed them, thinking she was a genius who could easily get into college with minimal effort. She clutched my workbooks thinking they were some kind of cheat code, not realizing that without determination to endure hardship, no one could escape this dream-devouring family. Soon, the day of my wedding to Austin arrived. Austin’s parents booked a restaurant in the city. My parents had never been to the city before, and Alayna looked at their timid demeanor with disgust. She said, “This is just a small restaurant. I’ve seen much more luxurious places.” Indeed, compared to the lavish lifestyle she had lived in her previous life through bribery, this was nothing. Though modest, the wedding was properly arranged. Ella held my hand apologetically and said, “Sienna, we originally wanted to make it more elaborate, but we gathered the wedding gifts in a hurry and couldn’t afford more. Please understand.” I smiled and said it was fine, but Alayna looked dissatisfied. “People would throw money at you with just a casual request. Who are you trying to fool by pretending to be poor?” As Ella was about to retort, a commotion erupted outside the private room. Someone shouted, “Austin, don’t be stubborn! The bride’s family is all here. You can’t just call off the wedding. Where will your father put his face?” Austin wanted to back out of the marriage? Ella’s expression changed dramatically as she went to check the situation. I didn’t remember much about Austin, but he was a man of integrity. In my previous life, even when he was transferred to Adak with its harsh environment, and Alayna refused to go with him, he never complained. Later, when Alayna got into trouble for embezzling money using Dylan’s name, Austin, out of gratitude and consideration for their marriage, gave her a settlement during their divorce. He had always valued relationships and loyalty; he would never call off a wedding like this. I stared at the door of the private room as it kept opening and closing, with Austin’s friends rushing out one by one to persuade him. Through the gap in the door, I vaguely saw his face, more rugged and determined than when he was young. Austin said, “No matter what, I cannot marry this harbinger of disaster! I can repay the debt of gratitude, but this bride—I absolutely cannot marry her today!” He actually called me a “harbinger of disaster”? My heart ached sharply as a cold feeling spread through me.

Alayna burst into laughter when she heard this. “Sienna, I can’t believe your reputation as a jinx has already reached your husband’s ears!” she said. After a brief pause, she lowered her voice with a hint of mockery, “A jinx and a loser—truly a match made in heaven.” I clenched my fists, my knuckles making a slight cracking sound. Austin was pushed through the door by several friends, looking reluctant. Alayna stood up straight with her arms crossed when she saw him enter. With her tall figure, she always stood out in a crowd. However, Austin ignored everyone else, his eyes fixed only on me. I stared at his chiseled features, momentarily stunned. Up close, his handsome, stern face was even more striking than the movie stars on posters. No wonder Alayna never failed to mention how good-looking Austin was whenever she brought him up. Austin noticed the corsage on my chest that matched his boutonniere exactly, immediately realizing the bride had been switched. His thick eyebrows furrowed as he blurted out, “Why is it you? Wasn’t I supposed to marry Alayna?” Alayna, already displeased about being upstaged, didn’t hesitate to strike back. “Who would want to marry a rookie like you? You should know your place—you’re not good enough for me!” she snapped. She then smoothed her two braids, lifted her chin, and turned her face away. Austin’s expression changed slightly, clearly realizing he had said the wrong thing. I spoke calmly, “You said you wanted to marry the girl who saved you back then. That was me.” Austin’s gaze froze, his chest visibly rising and falling as he stared at me with unusual intensity, as if he had been waiting for this moment for a long time. “I know,” he said. I widened my eyes in shock, a bold guess flashing through my mind. He continued, “I’m sorry. Let’s continue with the wedding. I want to marry her!” Everyone was confused by Austin’s reaction. Ella quickly said, “Look how excited he is! He’s completely disoriented! What a softie!” Austin suddenly shed his rebellious attitude, a blush spreading from his neck to his cheeks. Alayna muttered something and returned to her seat with a cold snort. The rest of the wedding proceeded smoothly. However, near the end, Alayna mentioned that the study environment in the village wasn’t good and asked Austin to find her a tutor in the city. At this request, Austin visibly showed his reluctance to deal with her and remained silent. Ella, however, readily agreed, “Since you’ve asked, we’ll definitely help.” She then arranged for Alayna to stay at a test prep center. Before Gavin and Natalia left, they repeatedly instructed me, “Now that you’re married, don’t forget about our family. Make sure to bring back plenty of good things from Austin’s home for your sister, and don’t let her get too tired.” “Prepare three meals a day and deliver them to her, and come back to wash her clothes.” “Your sister’s exam is important—taking care of her is your real duty!” Alayna lounged on the bed, eating snacks with a smug expression. “Did you hear that? Don’t think you’re special just because you married into the Dylan family. No matter where you go, you’re destined to be my servant!” Gavin and Natalia nodded in agreement, saying Alayna was right and that I shouldn’t forget my roots. I swallowed my anger without arguing back. For the next two weeks, I shuttled back and forth between the test prep center and the Dylan house. Seeing how hard I was working, Austin arranged for the family’s housekeeper to deliver meals instead. But Alayna threw a plate in front of the housekeeper. “Go back and tell Sienna not to act high and mighty with me! If I hadn’t given her the opportunity to marry Austin, she’d still be doing chores at home.” When Austin heard about this, he was furious and wanted to send her back to the village to defend me. But Alayna mocked him to his face, “Austin, don’t be so smug. Be careful or you might get deployed to some wasteland in Adak and never return.” “Tsk, you might even die there.” In my previous life, I had heard stories about Austin while living in the city. Adak was where he met his end, and they never even brought his remains back. Austin glared at Alayna, his whole body trembling, seemingly with a thousand words he wanted to say. I dragged him home, and it was the first time he lost his temper in front of me. “Why are you taking her side instead of mine?” I was speechless, a strange atmosphere spreading between us. It wasn’t the right time yet; I needed to wait a little longer. On the last day of the SAT, I was more nervous than Alayna. It was also the day Austin’s transfer orders would be issued. Alayna walked into the exam room confidently, saying to me, “Sienna, after today, let’s see what you have to be so proud of!” Gavin and Natalia watched her go with high expectations, as if Alayna would be accepted into college just hours later. I was so nervous that my palms were sweating. When I turned around, Austin was calling my name from across the street, waving a folder with a bright red seal clearly visible. My heart skipped a beat.

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On Christmas Eve, my grandfather Paul Walsh’s experimental field suddenly suffered a severe pest infestation. We booked last-minute flights to handle the situation, but at the airport, we encountered celebrity Chloe Michell who had chartered the entire plane for herself. She completely ignored our requests and even had her bodyguards roughly force us off the aircraft. Not only that, but she also sneered mockingly: “Sorry, but I need to rush to the Christmas tree lighting ceremony where many fans are waiting to see me! Who do you think you are? If you died in some corner, nobody would even notice!” The airport staff actually took her side, urging us to back down: “She’s a big star with appointments to keep. Why are you making trouble? Just apologize and get out of here! Otherwise, she could crush you with one finger!” I felt both angry and incredulous. Paul was the director of a national laboratory, officially appointed to lead a major rice improvement project, yet he was being treated as insignificant by some entertainer. At that moment, a bodyguard picked up Paul’s suitcase and slammed it down violently, hitting him hard on the shoulder. He fell to the ground but still clutched tightly to the research papers that had fallen out of his suitcase. Those were the scientific proposals he had written during sleepless nights at his desk, skipping meals—the crystallization of multiple Christmases worth of hard work. I remember Paul telling me with an empty stomach but a smile on his face: “With this proposal, improved rice can yield over two hundred more pounds per acre. I want to help more people have enough to eat!” However, Chloe looked at Paul with contempt and mocked: “Look at the junk in your suitcase! Reading glasses, patched-up clothes, and some crumpled papers! Is this the standard of a so-called laboratory director? “If you’re so capable, why don’t you charter a plane like me? Why are you flying economy? Don’t lie if you can’t afford it, you shameless old man!” I was furious. Paul chose to fly economy to save money for the national scientific research fund, yet he was being slandered like this. I couldn’t help rushing forward to defend him: “This is my grandfather’s work ID. He’s in charge of a key project at a national laboratory! If you don’t believe me, you can call to verify. “We need this flight because our experimental field is suffering from a pest infestation! “If we can’t get back in time to save it, the rice will die on a massive scale, and our team’s work of over three Christmases will be destroyed, along with wasted government funding.” However, Chloe didn’t even glance at the ID and ordered her bodyguards to push me aside. She said: “Don’t come near me! I’m wearing a custom-made dress worth millions of dollars. You people can’t even afford to charter a plane—if you stain my clothes, could you pay for it? “You want to fly on the same plane as me? I bet you’re just paparazzi! Faking identities to intimidate me? No way!” Paul and I were desperate. Almost all Christmas Eve flights had already departed, with everyone returning home to reunite with their families. Yet we were forcibly removed from the last flight because Chloe had chartered it at the last minute! Paul, clutching his injured shoulder and sweating profusely, still humbly pleaded: “Young lady, you’re a big star, certainly more successful than me, able to earn big money. “But could you please show some mercy to this old man? “Please, let us board the plane! My granddaughter and I promise we won’t disturb you!” To save the rice crop and the national research results, Paul was willing to set aside his personal dignity. But Chloe remained unmoved: “No! Playing the victim won’t work. If you weren’t trying to secretly photograph me, why would you be so desperate? Can’t you just fly tomorrow?” She wouldn’t listen to any reason. With no other option, I dialed my superior’s number, hoping to request official transportation arrangements to catch up with our schedule. But as soon as I took out my phone, Chloe immediately shrieked: “She’s taking pictures of me! Smash her phone! And check if that old man is hiding a camera! “Absolutely don’t let them take photos to share online, and don’t let them contact anyone!”

My phone was slapped out of my hand by a security guard, crashing to the ground with its screen instantly cracking. The call I had just connected was abruptly cut off. Paul’s old, paint-chipped phone was stomped on even more viciously, completely destroyed beyond use. We had lost our means of contacting our superiors. Every second of delay increased the risk of the rice in the experimental field withering away. Realizing this, Paul’s voice began to tremble. “What are we going to do? The country is waiting for our results—this is the hope for so many impoverished people to have enough to eat! If we have to restart the experiment, it will take another three years. “I’m already in my seventies. How many more three-year periods do I have left in my life? I just wanted to contribute one more time to our country while I still can move around. Why is that so difficult?” Paul was in tears. Meanwhile, the airport staff around us were mocking him. Some of them had even grown up eating the rice he had helped improve. “Look at this old man, looking so shabby, actually thinking he’s some big shot? Probably just delusional. How embarrassing!” they whispered among themselves, laughing continuously. At that moment, General Manager Allan Barnes was drawn over by the commotion. He asked, “What’s going on? Why are you all gathered here?” I quickly called out, “Mr. Allan, please help us. My grandfather and I are rushing to participate in a national project. Could you possibly make an exception and arrange another flight?” But in the next second, Allan started yelling at me, “What the hell is wrong with you people? Weren’t you supposed to get Ms. Michell off the plane and escort her away? Why is she still hanging around here?” I was stunned, anger rising within me. I slammed my ID badge into Allan’s chest and furiously demanded, “Are you trying to obstruct national scientific research too? “Look carefully—my grandfather is the director of a national-level laboratory! Are you illiterate? Why don’t you make a phone call to verify?” My voice was hoarse and urgent. Allan was momentarily taken aback by my emotion and hesitantly pulled out his phone. But Chloe casually remarked, “Just forged credentials, what’s there to look at? Do you really need to verify?” Allan immediately stuffed his phone back into his pocket and sneered, “Hmph, I almost fell for your trick.” I was nearly livid with rage. Just because Chloe was a celebrity, people blindly worshipped her, even willing to turn right and wrong upside down for her! “Ms. Michell, don’t worry, I’ll drive these scammers away right now. Since she refuses to leave, the airport just got some new police dogs—big and fierce ones.” Allan picked up his walkie-talkie to call for someone to bring the dogs over. Chloe smiled with satisfaction. “Very good, Mr. Barnes. I’ll send your daughter an autographed photo of mine later. “But make absolutely sure this damn paparazzi doesn’t take any photos of me and create more negative publicity for me.” Allan bowed and scraped with even more enthusiasm. He pointed at Paul and me, saying, “Both of you, take off your clothes! I suspect you’re carrying dangerous items and need to conduct a body search!” This was utterly absurd! I hugged my arms in horror, while Paul’s eyes were filled with despair. He had dedicated his entire life to serving his country and people, pouring his heart into scientific research. Now, this professor who deserved respect was being humiliated like this. In the cold wind, Paul couldn’t help but start coughing. He was thinly dressed, having only focused on rushing to the experimental field to save the rice, forgetting even to grab a coat on his way out. Paul was old now, suffering from rheumatism developed during years of harsh rural scientific work, which caused him excruciating pain in winter. If the airport staff forced him to remove his clothes, he wouldn’t be able to handle it. “You’re going to kill my grandfather!” I cried out in anguish, standing protectively in front of Paul. But Allan impatiently urged, “Hurry up! My wife and daughter are waiting for me to come home for dinner.” He smacked his lips smugly and said, “Hey, my wife tells me the new rice we bought makes especially fragrant meals.” What he didn’t know was that the rice he was using had been developed by Paul himself. Other staff members joined in, hurling insults at us. “Damn paparazzi, hurry up and strip! I need to go see the Christmas tree lighting ceremony with my family. I’m especially looking forward to Ms. Michell’s performance…” As they cursed, they eagerly unleashed the dogs. The vicious dogs lunged wildly toward Paul and me.

I felt an excruciating pain shooting through my calf, which was now a bloody mess. The sound of gnawing teeth mingled with Paul’s desperate cries for help, but no one came to our rescue. In desperation, I had a flash of inspiration and shouted, “Murder! You’re really ruthless! Let the dogs bite harder—that’ll make the video more explosive when it gets out. By tomorrow, Chloe’s scandal will be everywhere, and you’ll all be blacklisted!” Since Chloe feared paparazzi and scandals, I decided to hit her where it hurt. Sure enough, she ordered her men to stop and pull the dogs back. She snarled through gritted teeth, “So you were taking secret photos of me! How much do you want to keep quiet? Consider it money for your coffin.” I continued my act: “Listen carefully—let me and my grandfather leave safely, and I’ll contact you later about the money. Otherwise, the video goes public immediately! “Do you think the show directors will still let you participate in the Christmas tree lighting ceremony when a scandal breaks about you bullying people? “If the event goes wrong, will your career survive?” Chloe’s face instantly turned pale. Reluctantly, she waved her hand, signaling her men to let us through. Limping with blood streaming from my feet, I roughly pushed past Allan who stood in front of us. I said, “Get out of my way! Just because you run a private airport in this small town and can close the gates doesn’t mean you’re above the law!” Paul supported me as I could barely stand, and we made our way out of the airport step by step. His eyes filled with tears, looking increasingly desperate. He said, “It’s Christmas Eve—everyone’s gone home. We can’t even flag down a car to take you to the hospital! And we can’t borrow a phone to contact headquarters for help. “Everything is ruined! It’s all ruined!” Suddenly, a car came speeding toward us, stopping right in front of us! “Lucas, what are you doing here?” Paul exclaimed. Research scientist Lucas Perkins helped Paul and me into the car while explaining. Apparently, Paul had planned to return by plane, but when his phone call suddenly disconnected and couldn’t be reached again, headquarters worried something had happened and sent Lucas, who was in a nearby county, to check on the situation at the airport. If the plane was delayed, they would arrange to requisition a courier plane, and this car would take us directly to board it. Paul, filled with guilt, said, “I’ve caused trouble for both the country and you. You probably haven’t even had time to eat.” Lucas laughed heartily, “A quick bite was enough. As researchers, we need to be ready whenever the country needs us!” Paul nodded in agreement, but as he described our experience at the airport, Lucas gripped the steering wheel so tightly it creaked. He solemnly said, “Mr. Walsh, don’t worry. My phone has been on the whole time, and headquarters has heard about your situation. They will definitely get justice for you. “Someone like Chloe who doesn’t deserve her position—and she calls herself a star? She dares to appear at the Christmas tree lighting ceremony? She’ll only pollute everyone’s eyes!” I refused Lucas’s suggestion to take me to the hospital first. The experimental field’s treatment couldn’t be delayed because of me, which would cause losses to the country. As a rice researcher, at this critical moment, the country needed my contribution more. Afterward, Lucas accompanied us onto the plane, saying official personnel would escort us upon arrival. However, two hours later when we disembarked, we happened to encounter Chloe also arriving at the airport. She spotted us immediately and shrieked, “It’s you paparazzi again! First you blackmailed me with photos, and now you’re still following me around, taking secret pictures and fabricating scandals!” Her outburst instantly drew a crowd of fans who rushed toward Paul and me. Chloe’s fans who had come to pick her up began shouting angrily. “How dare you paparazzi harass Chloe! Don’t you know she’s performing at the Christmas tree lighting ceremony tonight? Her career is about to take off!” “That’s right, no one can interfere with Chloe’s career! Let’s grab these people, search them, strip them naked, and throw them out! We absolutely cannot let those scandalous photos get leaked.” I felt utterly miserable. On a night that should be about family reunions, these people had abandoned their loved ones to blindly worship a celebrity, even becoming manipulated accomplices. I stepped forward, trying to stop them. “Back off! Or I’ll release all the dirt I have on Chloe and ruin her reputation!” But this tactic no longer worked. Chloe’s manager, Elaina Walker, attacked from behind with her bodyguards, pinning me down. Elaina coldly whispered in my ear, “Chloe wanted me to tell you that she’s already taken care of the media. Even if you gave them your footage for free, no one would report it. She was looking for someone to teach you a lesson, and here you are, delivering yourself right to us. Perfect timing—she specifically called these fans to deal with you, strip you naked, and take some photos to post online. How does that sound?” I trembled with rage, and as I struggled, the wound on my leg reopened, bleeding profusely. Paul stumbled and fell in the crowd, then got up again, desperately crawling toward me, trying to save me. Elaina snorted, “Chloe specifically instructed that if you don’t cooperate with the photos, we should beat you severely, break your limbs!” I quickly begged, “But my grandfather is an old man! He can’t withstand this kind of violence. Beat me if you must, beat me to death if you want, but please don’t hurt him!” Paul had always dreamed of seeing his improved rice varieties yield a bountiful harvest. If he couldn’t save his rice fields because of this incident, he would die with regrets. However, Chloe walked over and sneered in my ear, “So what if he’s old? I have plenty of money. I can afford a few lives.” Then she further incited her fans to attack us. “My darlings, I’ve worked so hard for many Christmases, and finally have the chance to perform at the Christmas tree lighting ceremony, but my competitors hired people to take photos to smear me! But I can’t personally teach these bastards a lesson, or I’ll be accused of bullying! What should I do?” As long as Chloe didn’t act personally, everything could be blamed on her fans. And there were always some fools who acted impulsively, immediately punching and kicking Paul. Lucas tried desperately to stop them but was violently pushed down and trampled. I watched in horror as Paul was kicked to the ground, coughing continuously, while someone prepared to deliver a heavy kick to his head. I frantically broke free from the bodyguards and threw myself over Paul to protect him. In that instant, a sharp pain shot through the back of my head, as if my skull was about to split open. My consciousness began to fade, but the blows continued to rain down on us like a storm, and Paul’s cries grew more agonizing. Just then, Chloe smugly announced, “Alright, I’m off to the Christmas tree lighting ceremony now.” However, the next moment, a familiar voice interrupted her—it was Sheriff Elijah Martin. He said, “Ms. Michell, you won’t be going. As a criminal, the Christmas tree lighting ceremony committee has decided to cancel your performance. You’ve harmed national scientific talent, and now you need to come with us to the police station!”

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The day I received my study abroad permit, my husband, Colonel Alex Grant, was diagnosed with cancer. He begged me to give up my spot so he could live. “Leila,” he said, “only Molly’s father can cure my illness. His only condition is that Molly takes your place to study abroad. I’m not afraid of death, but without me, how will you and Freya survive?” Looking at Alex’s bloodshot eyes, I abandoned my studies and devoted myself to caring for him and our daughter. Yet three Christmases later, his beloved Molly Curtis returned from her studies abroad, and Alex embraced her with a kiss. “Leila is such a fool,” he said. “I’ve been faking my illness for three Christmases, and she never caught on. Thankfully she earned enough money so you didn’t have to work while studying.” Our daughter Freya Grant happily jumped into her arms, calling her “Mom.” I was completely shocked, and in my daze, I crashed into an oncoming truck. When I opened my eyes again, I had been reborn to Christmas 1980, the day I received my study abroad permit. Just after getting the permit, my husband Alex hugged me and began to cry. “Leila, the doctors say I have cancer and don’t have long to live. How will you and Freya manage?” He looked utterly vulnerable. “I’m not afraid to die, but I’m worried about you and Freya!” Suppressing my disgust, I patted his back to comfort him. “Don’t worry, I’ll definitely take good care of Freya.” Alex froze. “Why aren’t you upset at all?” I deliberately put on a sad face and sighed, “What good would being upset do? This is fate. I got the opportunity to study abroad, but you’re going to die. How unfortunate.” Alex’s expression turned awkward. “Actually, there is a way to cure my illness. Molly’s father is an expert in this field. He can cure me. But his only condition is that Molly takes your place to study abroad.” He finally revealed his true purpose. In my previous life, he hadn’t been so quick to tell me all this because as soon as I heard about his cancer diagnosis, I panicked and immediately borrowed money for his treatment, begging others to find doctors to save him. As a result, I fell into their carefully crafted web of lies. Alex made me surrender my study permit so his first love, Molly, could take my place abroad. To save him, I had to give up my dream of studying overseas and devoted my heart and soul to our family. From that day on, I lost everything. Because of his illness, I borrowed a large sum of money from friends and family. For the next three Christmases, I worked multiple jobs to pay off the debt. But in the 80s, money wasn’t easy to come by. I had to work tirelessly at three factories every day. In reality, that money became Molly’s tuition for studying abroad and spending money for their family’s entertainment. Only before my death did I discover how completely I had been fooled. After being reborn, I would never let these people control me again. My six-year-old daughter Freya ran over and hugged Alex. “Daddy, I want Molly to be my mom. Can we go out with mom? She said she’d buy me candy!” Alex’s expression changed instantly. He quickly said, “Don’t talk nonsense! Molly is not your mother.” He glanced at me cautiously. “Leila, don’t overthink it. Molly’s just been so good to her that she misspoke. Freya doesn’t have many relatives, and Molly likes her. That’s a good thing.” I laughed inwardly. Without Alex’s encouragement behind my back, how could Freya have become so close to Molly? So he had been secretly letting Freya call Molly “mom” all along. But none of it mattered anymore. Alex and Freya both had someone they preferred, which was certainly for the best. Freya said dejectedly, “But Daddy, you told me to call her mom.” “Shut up!” Alex snapped. Freya jumped in fright, then ran away crying. In the past, I would have chased after her to comfort her, telling her Alex didn’t mean to yell and that he loved her. But now, I remained unmoved, coldly watching as she tripped over the doorstep and cried even louder. I would not keep an ungrateful child.

Three days later, I’ll be heading to California with my study permit, boarding a flight to my dream school. I ignored both of them and took all the necessary documents to my supervisor Caleb’s office to submit the divorce paperwork. Alex’s special status meant that a normal divorce procedure wouldn’t work. I wrote several pages of applications, documenting Alex and Molly’s inappropriate relationship in meticulous detail. Caleb had long noticed their unusual relationship and just sighed. “Ms. Welch, your studies abroad are also for work purposes. Don’t worry, we’ll definitely approve your divorce.” When I returned home to pack my things after completing the paperwork, Alex came back with Freya. Freya had stopped crying and was carrying a pretty transparent bag filled with various candies. I remembered Molly had bought her these candies several times before. She deliberately criticized me in front of Freya, “Leila, you’re too strict with Freya. It’s normal for children to like candy. Having a few occasionally won’t hurt.” At the time, I didn’t want to create an awkward situation, so I said nothing in front of Molly. After she left, I took away all the candy and advised Freya to eat less sweets to prevent cavities. But Molly had influenced her too deeply, and she became increasingly resistant to my restrictions. When Freya saw me, she seemed to remember all the candy I had confiscated and quickly hid the bag behind her back. I frowned instinctively. “You already have so many bad teeth. Why are you still eating so much candy?” Alex said, “Freya was crying earlier, so we bought some candy to cheer her up.” I regretted my words as soon as they left my mouth. No wonder Freya wasn’t close to me since she was little. Alex always compromised. Moreover, Molly indulged her completely. Children can’t distinguish right from wrong, so naturally they think whoever spoils them is the good person. Sure enough, after meeting my eyes, Freya boldly shouted, “You’re a bad mom! Don’t try to take my candy! Molly is better! Molly is my real mom! I hate you!” People say children’s words are childish and funny, but sometimes a child’s words can be the most hurtful. I calmly said, “Then you can go to Molly from now on. I’m going abroad, and no one will take care of you. Let Molly be your mother from now on.” Freya pouted and threw herself into Alex’s arms, crying loudly. “Daddy, she’s a bad mom! She doesn’t want me anymore!” “Leila, stop talking nonsense!” Alex frowned and scolded me angrily. “Freya is only six years old. She doesn’t understand anything! How can you say such harsh things to her?” Looking coldly at their deep affection, I suddenly pictured my past life where Alex held Freya in one arm and embraced Molly with the other. That was truly a harmonious family of three. I sneered, “Without your indulgence, how could Freya possibly be so dependent on Molly? Alex, isn’t this what you’ve been hoping for? Don’t you want Molly to replace me as Freya’s mother and your wife?” Alex instantly became furious and shouted, “Do you have to fight with me over something so trivial? Do you have to be so harsh to a six-year-old child? “And you absolutely must study abroad, right? You don’t care at all that I might have a terminal illness, do you? “Yes, now that you have great prospects, you want to abandon me, our daughter, and this family, is that it? “Leila, you’re so selfish!” Watching him yell and judge me, trying to make me feel guilty, I found it ridiculous. “Alex, do you really have a terminal illness?” I asked. Alex opened and closed his mouth, not answering immediately. I sneered, “Why don’t we go to California together and get a re-examination at a major hospital to see if you really have a terminal illness?”

Alex was clearly flustered, but the composure he’d developed over the years quickly helped him regain his calm. “Leila, you don’t believe what I’m saying? I’m so disappointed in you!” I couldn’t tell if he was guilty or genuinely angry as he picked up Freya and left the room. I had no interest in dealing with them and continued packing my things. During our five-year marriage, I had accumulated many items, most of which were gifts from Alex, including letters he wrote before we married, overflowing with his admiration and affection for me. I kept these letters in a candy box. Now as I flipped through them one by one, looking at his familiar handwriting and the declarations of love I had memorized long ago, I still felt heartbroken. There was also a pair of dolls he brought back for me from his business trip to California, one male and one female, both incredibly cute. That night, he kissed me for the first time and promised in my ear, “Leila, I’ll love you for a lifetime, no, for lifetimes to come, I will always love you.” Yet in just five short years, his promises had already turned to nothing. His love had an expiration date of barely a thousand days. Alex used to be so good to me. When we were dating, he often took me cycling along small paths. The wind would blow his white shirt until it billowed out, the very picture of youthful freedom. When I was sick and had no appetite, he would specially go to the largest candy store in California to buy me sweets. He’d return after dark, yet still come to my doorstep that same night, offering those sweet candies to me. But all his kindness toward me completely vanished after Molly appeared. Molly was beautiful and came from a good family. A country girl like me couldn’t compare to her. Alex no longer prioritized me, no longer saw me as his only one, and no longer loved only me. These past few days, I had been slowly sorting through my belongings, packing everything related to him into a large box, which I then dragged out to the yard and threw directly into the garbage dump. On my way back, I passed a low flower wall and suddenly overheard Alex and Molly’s conversation. Molly’s voice was tearful: “Alex, can’t Leila really give up her spot for me? She doesn’t even speak German. What could she possibly do abroad? Why won’t she give up her place? Besides, doesn’t she care about your health at all? Are you that unimportant to her?” She was clearly trying to drive a wedge between us, but Alex couldn’t hear it at all. He embraced the sobbing Molly, tenderly stroking her head to comfort her: “Molly, don’t worry, I’ll figure out the study abroad situation. Leila always listens to me; she won’t go against my wishes.” Molly looked up at him with tear-filled eyes: “Really?” Alex nodded solemnly. Immediately, Molly’s eyes lit up. She wrapped her arms around Alex’s neck and kissed him on the cheek: “Alex, you’re so good to me!” Alex smiled somewhat shyly. I took a deep breath, no longer interested in watching the two of them, and walked away. That night, as I lay in bed with the lights off, nearly asleep, Alex slipped under the covers. He was shirtless as he embraced me from behind, his voice husky in my ear: “Leila, are you asleep? We haven’t made love in a long time. Tonight…”

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In my previous life, I lived to be seventy-six years old. I thought I had lived a happy life with no regrets. Until after my husband Leon Hale died, when his lawyer announced at the funeral that he had left all his assets to his beloved Ariel Bates and nothing to me. Only then did I realize what Leon truly felt for Ariel. After I calmed down, I decided to sue Ariel for taking what should have been our marital property. When my son heard the news, he imprisoned me in our home and warned me: “Dad couldn’t be with the person he loved. All he could leave Ariel was money. Mom, if you insist on suing her, I’ll cut ties with you!” Watching my son yell at me, I fainted from anger. When I opened my eyes again, I had been reborn in the 1970s. Everything was just beginning. In this life, I want neither husband nor son. ***** As soon as I opened my eyes, I saw my son Zayn Hale tugging at my clothes, stubbornly saying, “Mom, I want you to stay home with me! Don’t go to work!” Seeing that I didn’t respond, he pouted, his eyes immediately turning red. The familiar feeling of heartache surged within me. But when I remembered his words from my previous life—”I’ll cut ties with you”—I felt a sharp pain in my heart. I believed I was a good mother. In my previous life, I gave Zayn enough love and attention, caring for his studies and daily life. To be with him, I willingly gave up my high-paying translation job to Ariel, just so I could give Zayn a complete childhood. In the end, I gladly served as a housewife for decades. But only after my death did I learn that the reason Zayn refused to let me work that day was because Leon had told him: “If your mom goes to work, no one will take you to school anymore, no one will make you breakfast, and your classmates will mock you for being a child without a mother.” Thinking about this, I smiled bitterly. They were all so ungrateful. I said, “Zayn, you can’t get what you want by throwing tantrums. I worked hard to get this job. Why should I give it up just because you want me to stay with you?” Then, ignoring Zayn’s reaction, I walked back to my room and locked the door. Zayn froze for a moment, then rushed over and began kicking and punching the door. “Bad woman, you’re not my mom! I don’t want you to be my mom anymore!” If the old me had heard these words, I would have panicked, gone out to hug Zayn, and comforted him. But now I didn’t care. Living this life again, I only wanted to live for myself. I said, “If you don’t want me to be your mom, then tell your dad to divorce me. I can’t wait.” Zayn stood frozen. He was somehow afraid and stopped talking, running to the doorway to look outside, waiting for Leon to return. I looked around the familiar room, took a deep breath, and touched the old familiar items. When I saw our wedding photo, I finally believed completely that I had been reborn. In all the years of marriage with Leon, our only photo together was taken at our wedding. In my previous life, we lost this photo when we moved, and I was sad for a long time, but Leon never suggested taking another one with me. Now I realized it was because he no longer loved me. A familiar set of footsteps sounded, followed by coughing.

I shuddered, reflexively about to stand up. Then I realized this wasn’t my previous life anymore, and I chuckled softly. I opened the door to find Leon Christmas standing coldly in a suit outside. Next to him stood a beautiful girl, Ariel, wearing a new red gown that made her look charming and confident. She frowned at me, then tugged at Leon’s sleeve. “Leon, I don’t think Danna intentionally left Zayn outside alone. Don’t blame her.” Leon frowned at me, angrily demanding: “Danna, what’s wrong with you? Zayn is just a child, and you left him alone outside!” I looked at Zayn and sneered with contempt: “He’s nine years old already. Are you afraid he’ll get kidnapped?” Leon seemed surprised by my retort and froze in place. Ariel said, “Danna, you shouldn’t talk like that. You’ll hurt Zayn’s feelings.” I looked directly into Ariel’s eyes, and she nervously averted her gaze. “I’m his mother. If I’m not worried, why should you be?” I said. Ariel stepped back, looking flustered. “Danna, I…” Leon positioned himself protectively in front of Ariel and gave me a cold glance. “Ariel is my comrade’s daughter. Don’t be so harsh with her.” I found it amusing. So Leon knew Ariel was his comrade’s daughter, yet he clearly had feelings for her. Now it seemed they were interested in each other. Leon cleared his throat again. In my previous life, he always did this. Whenever he wanted something, he never asked directly—just coughed once and gave me a cold look, and I would dutifully bring whatever he needed. But now, I looked at Leon and pretended to be disgusted as I stepped back: “This is my room. Get out.” Leon was furious: “Tomorrow, you’ll hand over your job to Ariel. Don’t make me tell you twice.” Ariel looked at me somewhat embarrassed, though a flash of satisfaction crossed her eyes. “Danna, this wasn’t my idea, Leon insisted…” Leon explained, “Ariel needs a job immediately, or she’ll be sent back to her hometown.” I folded my arms: “Helping develop her rural hometown—isn’t that a good thing? Besides, if she needs work, why doesn’t she find her own job? Why should I give her mine?” Leon said, “Ariel’s image is more suitable for this position than yours, and I’d feel better about it. Look at yourself—you still think you can be a translator?” I examined my clothes—worn, rough, but clean. Throughout our marriage, I had given the best to him and our son, never considering myself. I rarely bought new clothes; when something tore, I just patched it up. I took a slow, deep breath and said firmly: “No.” Ariel quickly interjected, “It’s okay, Leon. I don’t necessarily need Danna’s job.” Leon’s gaze turned threatening: “If you insist on keeping this job, then let’s get divorced. And I want custody of Zayn.”

Leon stared at me. Zayn also lifted his chin proudly and said, “Bad woman, if you divorce my daddy, I won’t let you be my mommy anymore!” Leon seemed confident that I wouldn’t want a divorce because of Zayn, considering I was an orphan. Sure enough, Leon said with a hint of pity, “Danna, you know how difficult life is for children without parents. Could you really bear to let Zayn end up like you, without a happy family?” I pointed at Ariel. “Isn’t there someone right here who’s eager to be his mother?” Leon froze for a moment, panic flashing in his eyes, before raising his voice. “This is between us. Why do you keep bringing Ariel into this? Are you jealous?” I found it amusing. Leon could always easily pin some ridiculous accusation on me. “Think whatever you want,” I said, then returned to my room, grabbed some money, and left. Leon had reminded me that if I wanted to be an interpreter, I needed to buy some proper clothes. After purchasing fabric, I found my neighbor Nicole and asked her to make me some clothes. Nicole was an excellent seamstress. She said, “Danna, I just overheard your argument. Are you really divorcing your husband? He’s a military man, handsome, with a good salary. Are you really willing to leave him?” I nodded. He didn’t love me, so no matter how excellent he was, it meant nothing to me. Nicole saw my determination. She looked around and whispered in my ear, “But I suspect your husband won’t divorce you.” I raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean?” “I heard your husband’s superior hates men who cheat on their wives. So if your husband files for divorce, his career would be over.” I immediately felt worried. With complicated thoughts, I returned home. Just as I was about to enter, I heard Ariel crying inside. “Leon, why won’t Danna give me the job? I’m not trying to steal it from her. I just thought since Zayn is still young, wouldn’t it be more important for her to stay home and take care of him? I’d be willing to give her ten dollars a month from my salary.” The door was slightly ajar. I saw Leon holding Ariel in his arms, tenderly wiping away her tears. Leon said, “Ariel, trust me. She will have to give you this job, and you won’t need to pay her anything.” Then, he handed a packet of powder to Zayn. “Zayn, mix this in water and have your mother drink it.” Zayn asked curiously, “Daddy, what is this?” Leon displayed a warm smile, but I found it terrifying. “This is medicine to make your mother quiet.” Zayn clapped his little hands, laughing happily. “Great! Mom has become so annoying lately. I don’t want to hear her say those nasty things!” Zayn couldn’t wait to make me take the powder right away, to silence me forever. Ariel looked hesitantly at Leon and said, “Leon, isn’t this a bit harsh?” Leon patted her head. “Only the mute can’t be interpreters. Don’t worry, as long as she behaves herself and takes good care of Zayn from now on, I’ll give her enough to eat. I won’t let her starve.” Ariel was deeply moved. “Leon, you’re so kind!” Watching their intimate interaction, I felt nothing but disgust. In my previous life, they treated me like a servant, making me willingly serve as the Christmas family housewife for decades. In this life, just because I refused to give up my job to Ariel, they forcibly tried to poison me mute, and even thought keeping me as their diligent servant was some kind of reward? Did I owe these three something in my past life? I felt sad but looked up, forcing myself to hold back tears. After quietly leaving the courtyard, I ran to my supervisor Mark Campos’s office. I asked, “Mr. Campos, if I remember correctly, don’t we still have an overseas assignment position available?” Mark quickly pulled out a chair and poured me a cup of coffee. “Please, sit down. Weren’t you unwilling to go abroad because of your husband and child?” I shook my head. “That’s in the past now. To serve my country, I need to sacrifice my family life. Besides, they don’t need me to take care of them anymore, so I want to divorce Leon. That way I can fully devote myself to my work.” Cold sweat appeared on Mark’s forehead. “Ms. Garner, I’m glad you think this way, but if you divorce because of this, it would be my fault. I can’t break up your family.” I took a sip of coffee and told him about Leon and Ariel’s affair. Mark looked at me sympathetically. After a long pause, he sighed, “Ms. Garner, I’ll apply to the higher-ups for your divorce. You don’t need to discuss it with Leon. There’s a team heading overseas soon—you can leave with them in two days.” I bowed deeply. “Mr. Campos, thank you.” Mark patted my shoulder. “Ms. Garner, you’re the most linguistically gifted person I’ve ever met. You’re truly a genius. Work hard and serve your country well.” I nodded. “Yes, I will.” After resolving the divorce matter, I let out a huge sigh of relief. When I returned home, Zayn ran toward me enthusiastically. “Mom, I got an A on my test today.” I noticed the obvious signs that the “A” on the test paper had been altered, but I smiled without showing any reaction. Leon and Ariel were sitting in the living room, appearing normal, but I could sense something was off. They glanced in my direction, seemingly anticipating something. I smiled, bent down, and stroked Zayn’s head. “Well done. What reward would you like?” Zayn smiled somewhat triumphantly, then ran to the table to fetch a glass of water and brought it to me. “Mom, I don’t want any reward. Our teacher taught us to be considerate. Mom, you must be tired, have some water?”

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