My wife, Samantha “Sam” Wyatt, works as a sleep therapist, helping people with insomnia drift off through voice calls and video sessions. At first, I couldn’t take it seriously—I mean, what kind of job is that? Besides, I do well enough financially that she could live comfortably without lifting a finger. I tried talking her out of it, but she snapped, saying I was holding her back, keeping her from her “big dreams” and disrespecting her career ambitions. Her parents, both teachers, raised her as the model “untouchable beauty” back in high school, and I didn’t think she’d cross any lines. Maybe it was just her stubborn pride, I figured, and I stopped asking. Until I scrolled across a certain video… One evening, I was lounging on the couch, scrolling through my phone. I came across a video from a local group titled: “Hot Housewife.” Intrigued, I clicked on it. The video showed a man and a woman intimately entangled; the camera didn’t catch their faces, but it was far steamier than anything I’d usually see. My mind drifted, mostly wishing my wife was home instead of away on her “trip.” I even commented in the thread, joking about how “wild” the woman looked. The screen was a storm of pale skin and close-ups of the woman’s body. The footage shook wildly, filled with lust and raw energy, and a deep voice called out, hoarse, sultry—purring, “Yes, sir…” The sound was uncanny; it was Sam’s voice. Every note, every breath, hit me like a brick. The realization sank into me like a blade. I played the video over and over, desperate for any other explanation. No, there’s no way it could be her. She was supposed to be on vacation—on my dime. Besides, I thought, voices and bodies overlap, and the internet is full of fakes. Sam’s never been this “expressive” with me. She’s always reserved and quiet, especially in bed. But that voice—the same exact tone she used for her “clients”—dug into my mind with every replay, every moment wearing me down. For the next hour, I slowed the video down to analyze every detail, looking for any hint to disprove what my gut was telling me. With my heart hammering, I went frame by frame. The video blurred, the camera shook, and her face was never visible. But then, out of nowhere, something appeared—a detail sharp as a razor’s edge. Her wrist flashed, caught mid-motion, revealing a thin, simple silver bracelet. The bracelet was custom-made, our fifth-anniversary gift. I’d designed it just for her. It was her. My wife of five years, Samantha Wyatt, had betrayed me.

In that split second, rage ripped through me, obliterating every shred of rational thought. My ears roared, and every fiber of my being seethed with humiliation—I’d been played. I scoured the video, hoping to spot the man’s face. I couldn’t, but there was no longer any doubt. There was no other way to explain that reckless, eager expression, the raw intensity of her moves. I had to know who the guy was, and my best bet was to go after the person who’d uploaded the video. I set up a fake account, friend-requested the uploader, and waited. Soon enough, he accepted. I played the role of a sleazy “fan,” messaging him: “Dude, where’d you get this video? I can’t get enough!” He hesitated a bit, clearly wary. “Why do you care?” he asked. I upped my game, dropping a fat payment in his account. “Man, this chick has me on fire—can’t you help a guy out?” The money worked. After a moment, he got chatty, responding with, “Whoa, didn’t know you were that serious! Can’t leave you hanging, man.” He dropped a few more videos in the chat. Each one was more explicit than the last. Faces were still blurred, but it didn’t matter. The body, the movements, the sounds—it was unmistakably Sam. My mind blanked as waves of humiliation washed over me, taunting me. I felt like a pathetic joke. All these years, she’d never once been this way with me. She was always reserved, avoiding intimacy and rarely taking initiative. I figured she was either modest or just not that into it. But now I knew the truth. It wasn’t shyness or indifference. She just didn’t want that part of herself with me. Yet with someone else, she was willing to go this far, become this whole other person. Shaken, I lit a cigarette, hoping to calm down. I couldn’t let myself be crushed by this. Not yet. First, I had to find out who this guy was.

He never showed his face, but one detail stood out: every video had the same man, a guy with a prominent tattoo down his forearm. I tried getting more out of the uploader. “So, where’d you get these clips?” “Let’s just say I’ve got my channels, alright? Just enjoy the show,” he replied, his tone guarded. I backed off, promising him I’d pay for more “good stuff” if he got any new clips. Then I logged off, utterly spent. I threw my wedding ring in the trash. Divorce was the only answer. But I couldn’t walk away without settling the score. For years, I’d gone above and beyond for Sam and her family. Her parents were teachers, and she’d had a reputation as the “untouchable beauty” back in high school. I’d assumed they were a decent, respectable family. But on my first visit to her house, her mother asked me for a forty-thousand-dollar wedding gift, her eyes gleaming as if I were buying a product instead of marrying her daughter. When I hesitated, her mother’s face darkened, and she practically threw me out, muttering about how their beautiful, well-educated daughter had men lined up around the block. I was a catch, with a house, a car, and a solid inheritance. But they wanted the cash. Still, Sam surprised me by showing up at my place in tears, confessing that her mother had overstepped. She said her dad had hit someone with his car and they were being sued for forty thousand dollars. If I didn’t help, she’d be forced to marry a forty-something guy her mom had lined up. I couldn’t stand to see her cry, so I paid. But that was just the beginning. After the wedding, her mom and her good-for-nothing brother, Ethan, kept finding ways to borrow money that I’d never see again. Ethan, lazy and deep in debt, became my problem to fix. I finally gave up and hired him as a low-level assistant at my company, figuring I could keep an eye on him. I was exhausted with all this, but Sam’s tearful requests kept softening me up. I put up with it because, at the end of the day, I cared for her. But now, it was time to end things. I’d make sure she paid for every bit of damage. I reached out to a lawyer to draft the divorce papers, and as I finished, I heard the key turn in the front door. She was back.

As soon as Sam walked in, I caught a whiff of unfamiliar cologne clinging to her, faint but undeniably there, as if marking her for someone else. Feigning calm, I asked, “How was your trip?” I searched her face for any hint of guilt or remorse, but she avoided my gaze, mumbling a few vague comments. I recalled what she’d said before she left, “Don’t worry about me—I’m just going to relax and unwind.” What a loaded statement that had been. While she showered, I dug through her bag. Sure enough, I found an open box of condoms. It was almost too much, even though I’d already braced myself. My hands shook as I pulled out her phone, combing through her contacts and messages. Nothing incriminating. Then, on a hunch, I checked her alternate profile, the one she used for her “sleep therapy work.” At the top of her friend list was someone she’d marked as “Hubby.” I scrolled through their messages, each word driving a fresh knife into me. “Be gentle tonight; you were too rough last time, almost got me caught.” “Thank God I pretended to be drunk—almost blew our cover.” “Next time, call me with your husband in the room. Let’s make it more exciting.” My blood surged. I felt my pulse pounding in my head, barely able to keep myself from storming into the bathroom and confronting her right then and there. Suddenly, I remembered the night she’d stumbled home late, hair disheveled, cheeks flushed, no bra. She’d collapsed against me, smelling of alcohol, mumbling about feeling sick. I’d made her some ginger tea, only for her to fall asleep on the couch. I’d thought it was sweet of her to let loose. I was a fool. Now, Sam wasn’t just “putting people to sleep”—she was clearly doing much more. I dug further in her bag and found a small bottle of lubricant. That was it. I emptied the bottle and replaced it with industrial-strength adhesive. Let’s see how they handle this little “bond.” I quickly noted the “hubby” account but found it locked, blocking any friend requests. This clue was slipping away, but then I had a flash of inspiration. The video uploader—he was the key. No upstanding person makes money off footage like that, so there was a good chance he knew who this guy was. Rather than offering him cash, I decided to approach him using a woman I knew, knowing men like that tend to lower their guard with women. When the meeting day arrived, I watched from a safe distance, tense with anticipation. But when my target arrived, I was floored—it was Ethan Wyatt, my good-for-nothing brother-in-law. He was selling his sister’s affair for profit.

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In my past life, my half-sister Rose gave birth to a Great Serpent child, a feat that helped her husband, Silas King, secure his place as the King Family Heir. But as for me, I fought with every ounce of my strength, using the difficult Family Secret of the Goodwin line, only to give Silas a single snake child, Samuel. The eldest Prince, Silas, looked down on Samuel, calling him simple-minded and embarrassing. When Sammy failed to transform in a thousand years, Silas vented his anger by beheading him, and the heartbreak drove me to my death. When I opened my eyes again, it was back on the day of the royal selection for a bride for the King Family heirs. I watched Silas eagerly select Rose, my half-sister. And then I knew: he, too, had been reborn. He thinks picking Rose again will guarantee him a Young Serpent to secure the King Family’s future throne. But what he doesn’t know is that he lacks the Ancestral Power needed to father a child at all. The Goodwin Family line is renowned for its exceptional fertility, and this is the quality that binds us—our daughters chosen to bear heirs as if we were mere goods. Ordinary Goodwin daughters go to ordinary families in the Mountain Folk, but the Goodwin heirs, we are sought after by the most powerful families. This year, my sister and I turned 18, and we were taken to King’s Manor to be selected. Pain stabbed through my chest as I remembered that in my last life, Silas had chosen me, claiming that only a daughter from a proper bloodline would suit him. My sister, Rose, went to his younger brother, and she bore a Young Serpent—a clever, gifted child who quickly won the King Family’s favor. But for Silas, I had only Sammy, my small snake child. Still, Elder King Frederick favored Silas, granting him a thousand years to see if Sammy could Rise to Heir. But Sammy couldn’t manage, and Silas lost his chance at the throne. When I pleaded with Silas to grant Sammy more time, his answer was to sever Sammy’s head, which left me shattered and dying of grief. Returning to this day, my heart was still broken. I watched as Silas reached for Rose’s hand and felt a strange relief that somehow deepened my pain. My poor Sammy had trained so hard, was so sweet and eager to win his father’s favor, but Silas had cared only for his own ambitions. He hated my child. What Silas never realized is that he could not father children. Sammy was born only because I used the Goodwin Family Secret, an ancient magic that rarely works; I had failed a hundred times before Sammy finally came into my life. I clenched my fists, pressing down the well of rage. I would never forget how Silas, my husband, struck off my son’s head in a flash of heartless anger. Yet here we were, in the vast throne room of King’s Manor, on the day the four royal sons chose their wives. The Elder King, Frederick, sat above us, smiling as he addressed his sons. “It’s not easy for our King’s Bloodline to survive, but the Goodwin line has been blessed with abundant fertility. So, I’ve brought these four Goodwin daughters for you to choose from as wives, and we’ll do it in order.” Frederick was old, and he had used powerful means just to bring these sons into the world. The promise of an heir was so important to him that he’d declared whoever bore him a grandchild would be his successor. At his signal, Silas stepped forward. His eyes passed over each of us sisters with a cold, calculating look, but as he lingered on me, a flash of disgust showed. Finally, he moved toward Rose with determination. He didn’t notice my hand trembling at my side or the pallor of my face. “Father, I choose Rose as my wife.” Silas took Rose’s hand without hesitation, and she looked up, shy and surprised, with a blush that seemed to please him. But I knew his look well: it was the look of a man with ambitions in his eyes. He was reborn, too. Rose cast a fleeting glance at me, a look of smug satisfaction. My mother had been the first wife of the Goodwin heir and, as his only legitimate daughter, I’d inherited that position. Rose’s mother had tried long to become the primary wife, but my father refused. Silas, however, was the son of a primary wife, so Rose felt superior by being chosen by him. “You chose Rose?” Elder King Frederick asked, a bit surprised. To him, Silas’s position required him to marry a primary daughter. But Silas, remembering his past life, gave a hard smile and answered, “Father, my heart chose Rose the moment I saw her. It’s her I want.” Last time, Silas had married me, and the outcome was that our child was only a snake, an embarrassment that haunted him for a thousand years. He’d lost the throne and was laughed at for it. Reborn, he wasn’t about to risk the disappointment of having “a snake-breeder like Lily” as his wife. “Very well. Take your chosen bride and return to your estate.” The King respected Silas’s choice and allowed him to leave. I was unsurprised, but just as I thought I’d slip into the shadows, a soft voice behind me spoke, “Father, I choose her.” Startled, I looked up to see Evan, the second son, smiling down at me. In my last life, Evan had chosen no wife, so I was surprised. Yet my fate wasn’t mine to control. “Alright,” Elder King Frederick said, “then let Lily be yours, Evan. She’s the heir of the Goodwin line—a wise choice.” Evan extended his hand with a kind smile, and though uncertain, I took it. I knew our role in the family was lowly, born only to bear children and with no other talent. According to my father, it was “a blessing from our Goodwin ancestor” that we’d even been noticed by the King’s Bloodline. Evan took my hand, and we stepped away together. Annoyed, Silas looked at his brother. “Are you sure? She looks weak and worn. She might not even be able to bear a healthy child.” Silas, having been reborn, thought he knew everything about me. Evan, though, had been the only one in our past life who hadn’t ridiculed him, something Silas likely remembered. “Thank you for your advice, brother,” Evan replied evenly. “I’m no stranger to weakness myself. I care more for what feels right.” Silas’s frown deepened. He thought his advice was gracious, whether Evan appreciated it or not. This time, Silas was determined to be king. Soon after, the third brother and youngest brother also made their choices. Rose was now Silas’s bride, while I, unexpectedly, was Evan’s. We all left the hall as Elder King Frederick waved us on, his hopes set on each of us to secure an heir. In silence, Evan led me to Willow Manor. His hands were cold, and I could tell he wasn’t well. In my past life, I had taken on the brunt of the burden, even practicing the Family Secret to ensure Silas’s health. But this time, I wouldn’t sacrifice myself to heal another. When Silas carried Rose out of the hall, she blushed, hiding her face in his shoulder, while Silas left with an arrogant laugh. His brothers chuckled, but only I knew he didn’t truly love Rose. He only wanted the heir she might bear him. It was his ticket to the throne. As Evan and I reached the estate, I tried to look at him, and he returned my gaze with warmth. But in his eyes, I could see his own desire for an heir. It was natural, wasn’t it? After all, Evan was also an heir of the Mountain Folk. Evan left for the next three months, and I found myself alone in Willow Manor. Slowly, I settled in and started a small garden, raising vegetables and fruit. In the evenings, I would hear the palace gossip. People admired how Silas showered Rose with extravagant gifts, how he would bring in healers to check on her, and how he treated her as if she were the only woman in his world. It was strange, because I knew he wasn’t capable of such devotion. When Silas heard a rumor about his beloved Rose or felt she was unwell, he’d be at her side in a moment, doting and fretting. Their love story was now the talk of the town, a model of the perfect marriage. I simply laughed, remembering that in our past lives, Rose hadn’t conceived until a year into their marriage. As for me, I’d waited ten years to conceive Sammy. As I cut a small cucumber into the shape of a bird, a gentle voice behind me asked, “What are you doing, Lily?” Startled, I turned to find Evan smiling, though he seemed to have caught me murmuring to myself. I forced a smile. “Praying for peace,” I said, knowing he couldn’t hear the truth—that my ritual honored the memory of Sammy, my lost snake child, for whom I could do nothing in this life. Evan took my hand as we walked back, his voice soft and apologetic. He promised to care for me gently, even if he was often away. And as time passed, I saw that he was kind, patient, and good, unlike the harshness Silas had shown me in the past. After I conceived Sammy, Silas never touched me again. Just thinking about it fills me with dread, deep down. But with Evan, I couldn’t refuse him. “Lily, I’m sorry I’ve been neglecting you; the duties have been endless lately. Please don’t be upset,” he said softly. I shook my head. “I’m not upset.” But even if I were, I wouldn’t dare show it. As a Goodwin, I didn’t have the right to anger. Evan led me to the bed, though he didn’t do anything, as if sensing my reluctance. Each day after that, we continued to share the same bed. He helped me tend to the vegetable garden, sometimes even taking me to the market to buy more seeds. Little by little, I began to feel at ease with him. By now, Rose and the youngest sisters, Amy and Clara, were all expecting. Elder King Frederick was thrilled and subtly pressed Evan and me to “catch up.” I felt embarrassed but promised the Elder King I’d try. Still, Evan and I hadn’t consummated our marriage even after nine months together. Elder King’s insistence didn’t change our quiet rhythm; we simply continued on in peace. Rumors had even begun to swirl around us. “If you want a steady, gentle marriage, choose a prince like Evan,” people would say, contrasting Silas’s fiery nature with Evan’s calm demeanor. But I found such talk dull. To me, Evan’s gentleness was the real prize. Perhaps sensing my reluctance, he hadn’t once pushed me into anything. Then, one day while we were out buying melon seeds, we crossed paths with Silas. He suggested we all have a meal together. Rose was positively radiant, draped in jewels and glowing with pride. Sitting beside Silas, she had the softness of a girl in love and the maturity of a woman used to admiration. As we ate, she and Silas constantly showed their affection, while Evan and I quietly focused on our food. Evan only occasionally answered when Silas spoke to him. After the meal, Rose turned to Silas with a girlish smile. “Silas, I’d like to chat with my sister for a bit. Could you wait for me?” Silas shot me a cold glance and nodded. “Of course, Rose, go ahead and speak with her,” he replied coolly. “It’s only natural you’d want to say hello.” As Silas and Evan stepped aside, Rose’s smug expression reappeared. “Sister, did you see how wonderful my life is now? Father’s even considering making my mother the primary wife.” I kept my expression calm. “Oh. Congratulations, then.” After all, having the title of Goodwin Family’s primary wife wasn’t so remarkable. Rose pouted but continued, “And the Prince has promised me that if I bear an heir, he’ll share the Ancestral Power with me. I’ll become something new, reborn.” My tone remained steady. “Then good luck with that.” Let’s see if she still smiles once she realizes Silas can’t father a child. Rose’s expression twisted slightly. “Silas really can’t stand you, you know.” I rolled my eyes. “I’m not his wife. His opinion of me is irrelevant.” She huffed, frustrated. “Amy and Clara are both expecting. Meanwhile, there’s no sign of anything from you—are you sure you’re not barren? Even our family’s fertility isn’t a guarantee.” Seeing her annoyance, I countered, “And what about you? Trying every possible trick and still no news—is it possible that it’s Silas who’s…barren?” Rose’s face turned pale. She scowled and snapped, “What are you talking about? How dare you curse him!” She looked ready to strike, her frustration hitting a nerve. But even she wondered if Silas might be the problem.

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I’m an emergency room doctor. In the ER, you encounter all sorts of strange situations. Like kids with toys stuck in their mouths that can’t be removed… But one night, the patient rushed to the ER was my wife, and the reason was too embarrassing to mention! In the quiet of the late-night emergency room, I was yawning, my eyes almost closed from fatigue. “Dr. Carter, we have a patient!” The night shift nurse rushed into the ER. I immediately snapped awake, rubbing my face as I stood up. “What’s the patient’s condition?” I asked urgently. “The patient… she…” The young nurse seemed to have trouble speaking. Seeing her hesitation, I didn’t press further. Working night shifts in the ER, I thought I’d seen it all. But when the nurse wheeled the patient into the emergency room, I was completely stunned. Never in my wildest dreams did I imagine I’d see my wife in the ER! “Olivia!” My face paled as I rushed over. I saw Olivia’s face was ashen, and she had already passed out. “Dr. Carter, you know her?” The young nurse looked at me in surprise. “This is my wife!” I said without looking back, immediately starting to check Olivia’s condition. There were no visible injuries on her face or body, but she was unconscious. Internal injury? I grew increasingly anxious. Internal injuries were often more troublesome than external ones! But when I went to examine her legs, my pupils dilated in shock, and I froze. I knew exactly what this was at first glance. My vision went dark, and my breathing became rapid. I nearly collapsed right there in the ER. Olivia and I had been married for two years, and our relationship had always been normal. We’d never experimented with anything unusual. I’d never used these kinds of toys on her. But Olivia’s current state was clearly due to anal fissures causing her to faint! In an instant, I felt a wave of jealousy and betrayal wash over me. This definitely wasn’t something Olivia would have done to herself! I stared at Olivia in shock, my eyes wide and unblinking. “Dr. Carter, what should we do now?” The young nurse looked at me with an odd expression, asking a question. I could feel nothing but mockery and sarcasm in her gaze! Taking a deep breath, I said with a dark expression, “Anesthesia. Prepare for surgery!” The young nurse quickly busied herself in the ER, soon bringing me the anesthetic. I administered the anesthesia to Olivia and carefully removed the object. Suppressing my anger, I sutured Olivia’s wound. “Take her to the inpatient department,” I said, storming out of the ER with a black expression. Once outside, I stood alone smoking cigarette after cigarette. My mind was filled with images of Olivia’s condition. The more I thought about it, the angrier I became, feeling like a complete fool! “Damn it!” I threw my cigarette on the ground, crushing it viciously. The young nurse who had assisted me earlier immediately changed her expression and shut her mouth. With my face dark with anger, the overwhelming sense of humiliation made me feel like I couldn’t stay there any longer. “Get back to work! Don’t you all have anything better to do?” I shouted, and they quickly scattered. I went back into the ER to check, and Olivia had already been taken to the inpatient department. I wanted to rush there immediately and demand answers, but the ER couldn’t be left unattended. If a patient came in while I was gone and treatment was delayed, it would be a serious problem. My last shred of rationality kept me in the ER. As soon as my shift ended, I rushed to the inpatient department and found Olivia’s room. The anesthesia hadn’t worn off yet, so she was still unconscious. I stood by her bed, looking at this woman I thought I knew better than anyone else. At that moment, she felt like a complete stranger. After what seemed like an eternity, Olivia’s eyelashes fluttered, and she woke up. “Jack?” Olivia looked at me in confusion, then asked, “Why am I here?” My eyes were blazing with anger, wide open and staring at her. Panic flashed across Olivia’s face. She quickly said, “Jack, listen to me, this is a misunderstanding!” Olivia reached out to grab my hand, but I swatted it away. “A misunderstanding? We’ve been married for two years, and you’ve never even let me touch you there, let alone anything else!” “And now look at you! Playing so freely with other men!” “Olivia! All these years, I’ve been blind to misjudge you like this!” I shouted at Olivia. Tears immediately began to fall from Olivia’s eyes as she cried, “Jack, please let me explain. It’s not what you think… it’s not like that…” “Enough!” I roared, cutting off Olivia’s tearful pleas. I gave her one last hateful look before turning and leaving the room. “Jack!” Olivia cried out behind me, sobbing uncontrollably, but my heart didn’t soften one bit. She cheated on me, ended up in the hospital for everyone to see, humiliating me completely, and she still has the nerve to cry? Back home, looking at our wedding photo hanging on the wall, I felt nothing but bitter irony. Just then, my phone rang. It was Olivia. I hung up immediately. She called again, and I hung up once more. After that, I simply turned off my phone, out of sight, out of mind. I took a case of beer from the fridge and started drinking one after another. Before long, I had finished the entire case. I went to get another case and had barely drunk a few bottles when I felt a churning in my stomach. I ran to the bathroom and hugged the toilet, vomiting violently. Later, I lost consciousness and passed out on the bathroom floor. “Jack! Jack! Wake up!” A loud shout brought me back to consciousness. I opened my heavy eyelids to see a blurry figure in front of me. “Jack, why the hell did you drink so much?” The figure slapped my face, dragging me up from the floor. It was only then that I could see clearly – the figure was my best friend, Ryan. “You… why are you here? Hic…” I hiccupped, my tongue still feeling heavy. Ryan frowned, pinching his nose. “Damn, how much did you drink? You reek!” “Olivia called me. She said she couldn’t reach you and asked me to check on you.” As soon as I heard Olivia’s name, I became agitated and cursed loudly, “She still has the nerve to ask you to find me? Get out! Tell her to get lost!” Ryan looked at me in surprise. He nudged my arm and asked, “Jack, what’s going on between you and Olivia? Weren’t you two always so good together?” My face, which was already red from drinking, turned dark at that moment. “She cheated on me.” “What? You’re saying Olivia cheated?” Ryan exclaimed in disbelief. I gave a bitter laugh. “You don’t believe it, right? I didn’t fucking believe it either!” “But she was brought to my ER, and I had no choice but to believe it!” I clutched my head in pain, my eyes bloodshot. “What exactly happened? Tell me the details.” Gritting my teeth, I told Ryan what had transpired. After hearing it all, Ryan opened and closed his mouth a few times before finally sighing and patting my shoulder. “So what are you going to do now? Divorce?” I hung my head, my voice filled with resentment: “If not divorce, what else? Wait for the new year?” Ryan hesitated for a moment before saying, “Do you think there might be some misunderstanding? I’ve known Olivia for years too, and she doesn’t seem like that kind of person.” “What misunderstanding could there be?! She had anal fissures! What kind of misunderstanding could explain that?!” I shouted hoarsely. Seeing my state, Ryan didn’t try to persuade me anymore. “Alright, if you’ve made up your mind, then that’s that.” Ryan suddenly changed the subject: “Do you want me to help you find a lawyer for the divorce proceedings? In the current situation, since you didn’t catch Olivia in the act, there’s a high chance that the property will be split equally. If I remember correctly, you paid for this house, right?” My face tightened. “Are you saying that if I divorce now, I’ll have to give her half the house?” Ryan nodded. “Why should I?!” I shouted angrily. Ryan shrugged. “Don’t yell at me. That’s just how it is, unless you can find evidence of Olivia’s infidelity.” My face went through a series of changes before I gritted my teeth and said, “Fine! I’ll hold on a bit longer. I’ll definitely find evidence and make sure she leaves with nothing!” Two days later, Olivia was discharged from the hospital. During those two days, going to work was torture for me. The looks from my colleagues made me want to disappear into the ground. The more this happened, the deeper my resentment towards Olivia grew. If it weren’t for wanting to ensure she left with nothing, I would have divorced her already. When Olivia was discharged, I was still working the night shift in the ER. She came to the emergency room. “Jack.” Olivia stood at the entrance of the ER, wringing her hands, looking pitiful. I gave Olivia a cold look without responding. Seeing this, Olivia stepped forward. “Jack, please listen to my explanation. Things really aren’t what you think…” “Get out!” I interrupted Olivia, looking at her with disgust. Tears immediately welled up in Olivia’s eyes. She took out her phone and held it out to me. “Jack, after you watch this video, you’ll understand. I know I shouldn’t have done this, but things really aren’t what you think.” Looking at the phone Olivia was holding out, my eye twitched violently. Damn it! They even recorded a video?! Fine, fine! I want to see just how impressive you two are! With trembling hands, I snatched Olivia’s phone. I opened the video, my eyes glued to the screen. “Ah!” Olivia cried out in pain. “Olivia, don’t be scared. It’s always like this at first. Look at me, I’m used to it now,” a female voice came from the video. My eyes immediately widened. What’s going on? Why is it a woman? I stared at the phone in confusion, not daring to blink for fear of missing something. A moment later, a familiar figure walked into the frame, and my eyes narrowed. It was Emma! Olivia’s best friend!

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When I was finalizing my divorce papers, a pregnancy test with two lines accidentally fell out of my bag. Just like that, everyone knew I was pregnant. My husband, Asher Hawthorne, looked at the pregnancy test, his eyes darkening with anger as he gritted out a single word, “You.” I hurriedly tried to explain: “Listen to me! This baby isn’t yours!” “Skylar Reese!” That day, Asher directly confiscated my marriage certificate and took me home without a word. I thought I had really pissed him off this time. I wasn’t sure if I could handle his anger. Actually, this baby was something I had schemed to get. I didn’t consider it Asher’s child; I believed it was mine and mine alone! Asher and I had a marriage arranged for business purposes. We had signed a divorce agreement before getting married. Last month, when our contract expired, his first love Brielle Sinclair returned from abroad, so naturally, it was time for us to divorce. But why should I? The man I had loved for over a decade, whom I had finally tricked into marrying me, and now I was supposed to hand him back to that bitch intact? No way! “Asher, I’m fine with the divorce, but if my next husband finds out I’m still a virgin, he might think I lack charm and that’s why I was abandoned!” I took two steps forward, hooked my index finger on his tie and gently pulled, inching closer to him. His cold, handsome face magnified before my eyes. Our breaths intertwined intimately. I had practiced this angle in front of the mirror many times and even ate strawberry-flavored breath mints! “Please, Mr. Hawthorne, help me lose my virginity. I promise I’ll go through with the divorce right after.” My heart was pounding. His pitch-black eyes stared directly at me, and I felt a sense of being seen through. I can’t back down! This is my only chance! Push him down! Eat him up! As I was hesitating whether to be more proactive, desperately trying to recall the adult videos I had studied earlier, he moved. He effortlessly picked me up bridal style. Through the thin fabric of his shirt, his hot, rippling muscles pressed tightly against me! In our two years of marriage, this was the first time I entered his room. It was simple and orderly, just like him, as I had imagined. He tossed me onto the pure black bed and started unbuttoning his shirt right in front of me. Powerful pecs peeked out from the collar. Below the pecs were six-pack abs, and below the abs… I felt my face heating up. I think if I were a kettle, I’d be screaming from the heat right now! Such a cold and elegant person, yet so rough when undressed! I regretted it. If I had known it would hurt so much, I would have… wait, maybe I don’t regret it… Ah, I regret it again! I lay in bed for a whole day before I recovered. It’s pathetic, really. We had just consummated our marriage, and immediately after, the divorce application was submitted. However, we still had to wait for a month. So, isn’t this child just mine? Now I just want to run away with the baby, putting a period to my long, bitter unrequited love. After we got back, Asher seemed to be making some important decision. He just stood silently by the floor-to-ceiling window, like a statue. After a long while, he turned around and pulled me up from the chair. “Come with me to the hospital.” I panicked and broke free. Hospital? Could he be wanting to get rid of my baby? “No! I’d rather die!” He continued to pull me, and I desperately retreated, every hair on my body screaming rejection! But he still dragged me away, in an extremely humiliating manner… He held me in his arms like a child, sharing his body heat with me, his steps quick and steady. If the destination wasn’t the hospital, I’d want him to hold me like this forever. At the entrance of the private hospital, after another round of extreme tugging, I was pinned down in the obstetrics department. It was all because of that “Be good, listen to me” he whispered in my ear. His voice was so alluring and seductive, the tingling sensation ran from my ear to my heart, and the side of my body next to him felt like it was electrified. I couldn’t help but let go of the door I was gripping tightly. Ugh… I was led astray by his good looks. The name of the doctor Asher found for me seemed familiar. Brielle Sinclair. Asher’s first love! Her beauty was different from mine. She had more of an aura about her, gentle and graceful, poised and elegant. Her clothes were always clean and tidy, her face always wore a gentle smile, and her whole being radiated a dazzling, soft glow like the early morning sun. “Skylar Reese, 3 weeks pregnant…” Her hand holding my ultrasound report trembled slightly, but she still smiled. This must be the type Asher likes, while I can only be sharp-tongued, using the coldest and most vicious tone to protect my pitiful self-esteem. My mom was the mistress who became the wife, snatching the position of Mrs. Jackson from Brielle’s mother. I was the shameless sister who stole Brielle’s engagement to the Evans family. I’m grateful that I took after my mother, born with the looks of a natural seductress, allowing me to steal two brief years with Asher in the endless dark times. Asher’s brows furrowed slightly. I knew this was a sign of his annoyance. Even though I was mentally prepared, I still felt a chill. Was he so angry that I was pregnant? He stood up and walked past me towards Brielle. Is he so eager? Going to comfort another woman right in front of me? We’re not even divorced yet! He raised his hand and carefully pulled the ultrasound report from Brielle’s hand, smoothing it out meticulously, his tone slightly cold. “You wrinkled it.” He pressed it hard a few times, but there were still two handprints on the ultrasound report. So he turned to Brielle seriously and said, “Print a new one.” Me: ??? This plot twist doesn’t seem right. Even if your OCD is acting up, it shouldn’t be at this moment, right? Brielle’s ever-present smile finally cracked a bit. “Brother Asher, I didn’t mean to.” Asher shifted his gaze to her face. “Don’t call me brother. My mom only gave birth to me.” After thinking for a moment, he added, his tone sincere without a hint of sarcasm, “Or are you my father’s illegitimate daughter?” Tears stubbornly welled up in Brielle’s eyes. “You’re going too far. I’m going to tell Uncle Evans!” Asher nodded, “Go ahead.” Brielle was stunned. She didn’t expect Asher, who was always aloof and only showed a bit of special treatment to her, would speak to her so harshly. Pfft. Sorry, I really couldn’t help but laugh. It’s rare to see this white lotus bitch Brielle get put in her place. I’m so happy! If I didn’t know that Asher really hates being called “brother”, I would have doubted whether Brielle was really his first love. In the past, I used to chase after Asher calling him “Brother Asher”, and he warned me in a very fierce tone, “Don’t call me brother. I will never be your brother!” Since then, I’ve hidden my humble crush even deeper and more discreetly… Even on the way home, I still felt dizzy and unreal, as if I was walking on clouds. Asher not only didn’t force me to abort the baby, but he even carried me like a princess all the way back. He knelt in front of me, those hands that could move mountains and seas gently removed my high heels and replaced them with soft, comfortable slippers. Even the most skilled craftsmen in the world couldn’t carve out such perfect hands. They seemed to possess a heart-stirring magic, repeatedly attracting one’s gaze. Has the world… gone crazy?! In our two years of marriage, we hadn’t even held hands, and now on the day we’re supposed to divorce, these hands have held me twice and even personally changed my shoes! “Don’t wear high heels for now. It’s easy to get hurt.” He looked up at me slightly as I sat on the shoe-changing bench. Asher has a pair of eyes that are both elegant and alluring. Usually, he looks refined and cold, but when he looks at you, you feel especially cherished. I nodded hurriedly. Now, forget about not letting me wear high heels, even if he told me to eat the high heels, I’d do it without any sauce, one bite at a time! He carefully framed the ultrasound report and placed it in the most prominent position in the living room. Then he had someone send over a big package of books: “Pregnancy Guide”, “Prenatal Education Stories”, “Child Psychology”… I got it. This must be a case of loving the house for its inhabitants. I’m being loved by the big boss Asher because of the unborn baby. I tentatively opened my mouth, “So about the divorce…” Asher, who had been arranging the books, suddenly looked up when he heard my voice. My goodness, what did I see? I actually saw hesitation in the big boss Asher’s eyes! He stared at me, his throat bobbing. His expression was as if I had hurt him. For someone like him, a heaven’s favorite, to show such a vulnerable expression, though brief, made me inexplicably sad. My voice softened involuntarily, “Let’s wait until after the baby is born to talk about it.” “Okay.” He agreed very quickly. It’s all for the child. I don’t know why, but I felt even sadder… But it’s okay. The law stipulates that the custody of children under 2 years old belongs to the mother. Even after divorce, if he wants to see the baby, he’ll have to meet with me. This way, he’ll have to maintain some connection with me for the rest of his life. Thinking about it this way, it seems even more beneficial than running away with the baby! When one is too happy, it’s easy for joy to turn into sorrow. Perhaps due to my constitution, my pregnancy reactions were particularly severe. Even at 5 months pregnant, I was basically throwing up everything I ate. My appetite dropped dramatically, and I lost a full 7 pounds compared to before pregnancy. I was barely hanging on with medication. After throwing up my favorite steamed barramundi again, I started crying while vomiting. My face was a mess of snot and tears, but Asher not only didn’t mind, he focused on wiping me clean with a warm towel, as if handling a fragile piece of art. I said with a sob, “Asher, if I keep throwing up like this, the baby in my belly won’t be able to take it. I really, really want this baby.” “I know.” He let me lean against his chest, gently rubbing my back, feeding me water in small sips. The bitter taste in my mouth gradually dissipated, and my mood slowly calmed down. Only then did I realize how intimate our current position was. I just needed to tilt my head slightly to hear his heartbeat. Before I could move, he called the housekeeper to take me back to my room to rest. Tch, he can say a whole paragraph to Brielle, but when talking to me, it becomes “Mm”, “Okay”, “I know”… Am I that bad? Besides, you’re so fierce, can Brielle’s flat body handle it? While I was still lost in thought, suddenly a SnapChat message came through. It was from Brielle! She didn’t say anything, just sent a picture. It was a hospital diagnosis report. I couldn’t understand the dense medical jargon, but I understood the doctor’s final diagnosis. “Difficulty conceiving, IVF recommended.” I suddenly felt dizzy. This diagnosis report was Brielle’s. Which means, Brielle has difficulty getting pregnant, and Asher must know this too. So… so is the baby in my belly prepared by him for his first love Brielle?! I struggled to get up and find Asher. For my convenience, he had moved his bedroom from across the hall to next door. The door wasn’t closed. He was holding the “Pregnancy Guide” book, making detailed notes. Seeing him like this used to make me feel sweet, but now it just feels ironic. “Asher, you’re quite the actor! It’s a waste of your talents to be a CEO. With such good acting skills, why didn’t you go into the entertainment industry?” He nervously closed the book, a blush coloring his handsome face. His gaze fell on me, his expression tightening. “Why aren’t you wearing slippers?” He started walking out, but I stopped him. “Is it true that Brielle can’t have children?” In the struggle, the book he had hastily closed earlier fell open on the floor. He quickly covered my eyes, “Don’t look…” Why are they hiding something more outrageous from me? If you don’t want me to see, I insist on looking! And then… My face also started burning uncontrollably. A line of ten small characters was circled in red pen, ‘Sexual intercourse is possible after three months of pregnancy.’ Next to it were various notes, citing references and expert opinions… He took the book away and locked it in a drawer. My mind was still full of his flowing handwriting, those memories that make one blush and heart race resurfacing before my eyes. Taut, solid muscles, beads of honey-colored sweat, and sexy panting… But all of this was just a dream he bestowed upon me for the sake of another woman. “Skylar, you’re bleeding.” Bleeding? I touched my nose, but there was no blood. “Don’t be afraid, I’ll take you to the hospital right away!” Drip… Something warm seemed to be flowing down my leg onto the floor… My lower abdomen gradually became stiff, with a vague sinking pain. I trembled as I covered my belly with my hand, “The baby…” “Take deep breaths, try to relax your body.” Asher’s voice had a calming power. I followed his rhythm, breathing in and out, slowly calming down. Thump thump thump. Whose heartbeat is that? I looked up, only able to see his firm chin, tightly pressed lips, and the tense lines of his jaw muscles… “Don’t be afraid.” “I won’t let anything happen to you.” Through the hazy mist, I looked at him. “Asher, did you really want this baby because Brielle can’t have children?” “This is our child, what does that woman have to do with it!” I burst into tears. My anxious heart seemed to suddenly fall into a pool of warm water, neither hot nor cold, just right. At the hospital, there was a flurry of activity. In my hazy state, I could only see the white lights and blue-green figures… Then the world faded into darkness. I had a very long dream. In the dream, I went back to two years ago, when Brielle went abroad. Before I could even be happy about it, I received another shocking news – Asher was going abroad too! The Evans family is in the biotechnology industry, but he wanted to follow Brielle to France, a country known for wine, steak, and luxury goods! If this isn’t true love, what is? The me from two years ago, full of vigor and never admitting defeat, of course, wouldn’t sit idly by. I secretly followed Asher, booked the same flight as him, and to avoid being discovered, I had to squeeze into economy class very uncomfortably. It wasn’t until I got off the plane that I realized what a stupid decision I had made. As a poor student, I hadn’t even mastered French. And I had lost track of Asher. What should I do? I’ve heard that foreign countries can be dangerous. What if I get kidnapped by human traffickers? I’m so beautiful, what if I’m sold as a bar girl, or worse, have my organs harvested… I was about to cry. “What are you doing here?” A clear, low voice sounded behind me, if I listened carefully, I could hear a slight tremor in it. “Asher!” I turned around excitedly and hugged him, “Wah… I was so scared, I thought I’d never see you again…” His body stiffened, “Let go.” I felt like I had been doused with a bucket of cold water, the joy of seeing him just now was washed away completely.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “294857”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster #现实主义Realistic #励志Inspiring #重生Reborn #校园School #浪漫Romance

I drowned alongside my sister. Our parents chose to save her, leaving me to die. When I woke up again, I had been reborn into the body of Jane Johnson, another girl who had nearly drowned. I thought our paths would never cross again, but on the first day of college, I saw my sister once more. She bragged about how her parents loved her so much they abandoned her sister. Her sister’s existence was merely to make her look better in comparison. She knew how to swim all along, and her parents were aware of it too. Since that’s how it is, I have nothing left to hold onto from my past life. So this is what drowning feels like. The water gradually rises over your mouth and nose, flooding your nasal cavity. Your right to breathe is taken away, yet your consciousness remains painfully clear. Survival instinct makes you struggle desperately. But the lack of oxygen renders all your movements futile. My consciousness slowly faded in this extreme agony. In the final moment before death, I felt an odd sense of relief. It was finally over. The suffering would end at last. The water blurred my last remnants of vision. On the nearby shore, my parents and sister were hugging each other, crying and laughing with joy at having survived the ordeal. … I died. And then I lived again. When consciousness returned from the darkness, I saw the excited faces of unfamiliar people around me. “Jane, you’re finally awake! Don’t scare Mommy like that again, okay?” “Are you feeling alright anywhere? Don’t do this again in the future. Mom will be here to help you through anything.” The woman rushed over to hug me, sobbing these words over and over in my ear. I was dazed, allowing the woman to embrace me stiffly, unsure what was happening. Who was Jane? Where was I? Hadn’t I died? My gaze swept across the hospital room, landing on the man standing to the side, restraining his emotions. I was certain I didn’t know these two people. They claimed to be my parents, but my real parents would never shed tears of joy over my rescue. An absurd thought began to form in my mind. The woman calling herself my mother finally released me. She looked rather haggard, though her demeanor and attire suggested she was normally an elegant and refined person. At the moment, her appearance was a bit disheveled. I looked at her silently, keeping my mouth shut. Fortunately, the couple assumed my silence was due to my physical condition, and didn’t press me to respond. Adhering to the principle of saying less to avoid mistakes, I only gave brief “okay” responses or smiled throughout the day. I took advantage of a bathroom break to quickly look in the mirror. Sure enough, I had been reborn. But not into my own body – I was in the body of a complete stranger. I raised my hand to touch this unfamiliar face, my heart pounding with a mix of anxiety and excitement. That night as I lay in bed, I stayed awake thinking about my current situation. The next day when I met the Johnsons again, I decisively said with a smile: “Um… I seem to have lost my memory.” The Johnsons were quite surprised when they heard I had amnesia. They seemed unwilling to believe it, asking me several questions to which I responded with a blank expression. They called in a doctor, who after examination could only say it was an aftereffect that might improve with time. I cooperated obediently throughout the process. I answered everything I knew and admitted what I didn’t know. After all, I truly didn’t know anything, so even if they were suspicious, they couldn’t imagine that the core inside this body had been replaced. After various tests and probing, they finally believed I had truly “lost my memory”. This couple seemed to harbor deep guilt towards their daughter. Although I didn’t know exactly what had happened between them, I could clearly sense their kindness and desire to make amends in how they treated me. And so, under the guise of amnesia, I gradually came to understand this family anew. The Johnsons were quite wealthy, running a multinational trading company and holding high status in their social circles. Fortunately, my previous family hadn’t been too badly off either, otherwise I might have taken years to fully adapt to this sudden change in social class. After being discharged from the hospital, I went straight home with the Johnsons. They gradually introduced me to things over this period, and I came to understand the environment I would be living in from now on. The girl I had replaced was named Jane Johnson, still a high school student of the same age as me. It wasn’t until after I left the hospital that I realized there wasn’t much time left before college applications were due. After discussing it with the Johnsons, we decided I wouldn’t return to school, but would study at home instead. Not taking a gap year was my insistence. In my original body, if I hadn’t drowned, I would have also been at the age to start college. Under the Johnsons’ arrangements, I picked up my textbooks again. That unchanging knowledge finally gave me the feeling of truly living in this world again. I threw all my energy into studying. This time, with no one to hinder me, I could finally do what I wanted. After the interviews, I successfully received an offer from my ideal university for my desired major. Just when I thought everything was starting to get better and I would truly begin a brand new life, I encountered the person I never wanted to see again in this lifetime at university. My sister, Penny Parker. As luck would have it, Penny and I were assigned to the same dorm room. At my insistence, I didn’t let my parents bring a maid to help set up the dorm. I did all the bed-making and organizing myself. My parents watched me arrange everything neatly, their faces full of pride and relief. The other two girls in our quad also did everything themselves. They seemed quite friendly, and we quickly got acquainted, chatting and laughing as we made plans to get our student IDs together and explore campus later. That’s when Penny arrived. She entered with a mountain of luggage that clogged up the hallway. Since she came late, the only bed left was the one by the door. “You, give me your bed,” she demanded, pointing at me. I had already sent my parents home and was still organizing things on my bed when Penny singled me out. Seeing her bossy attitude, just like in the past, I gave a slight smirk. Did she think I was still Amy? “No,” I replied coolly, glancing at her briefly. I didn’t miss the slight frowns that crossed my roommates’ faces. No one would be happy to see a troublemaker join the dorm. “You won’t give it to me?” Penny looked taken aback. Of course, she had never been refused when bullying me before. But the Amy she used to bully had died in the water. Now, I was Jane. Penny didn’t argue with me. She turned and threw herself into her parents’ arms, starting to cry softly. “Dad, Mom, I just wanted that bed…” “It’s okay, sweetie. Daddy and Mommy will take care of it for you.” The Parkers hadn’t changed a bit – as soon as Penny cried, they rushed to back her up. It was the same now. After comforting Penny, Mr. Parker turned to me with a stern face. “Young lady, my daughter likes that bed. Hurry up and give it to her.” “Am I your daughter’s mother? Why should I give in to her?” Anger that had long been suppressed in my heart rose uncontrollably at Mr. Parker’s entitled attitude. “I like your daughter’s eyeballs – should she gouge them out and give them to me?” “How dare you speak that way!” Mrs. Parker scolded me fiercely. “My daughter has taken a liking to your bed. That’s your good fortune. Hurry up and give it to her!” “I’m sorry, but I don’t want that kind of good fortune.” I glanced coldly at the Parkers, not even interested in saying another word to them. If I had known Penny would be attending this university, I would have switched schools without hesitation to avoid the Parkers. They had already made me sick enough in my previous life. I didn’t want them anywhere near me in this one. “What an unreasonable little brat!” Mrs. Parker was like an amplified version of Penny’s personality. Instead of reflecting on the Parkers’ bullying, she turned it around and insulted me. One of my roommates frowned and said, “First come, first served. How can you bully someone like this?” “What business is it of yours?” Mrs. Parker snapped back at her, making my roommate laugh in disbelief. Mrs. Parker then turned back to me with her nose in the air. “You just want money, don’t you? How much will it take for you to switch?” “Well, in that case, I won’t give it up for anything less than $10,000.” I cut in before Mrs. Parker could start scolding again. “It’s your choice whether you want to pay up for this unsolicited deal.” “Mom, forget it,” Penny finally spoke up in a pitiful tone. “It’s just a bed after all. I won’t switch. It’s not worth that much money.” Mrs. Parker looked utterly heartbroken, hugging Penny while glaring daggers at me. “My daughter is so understanding,” Mr. Parker said, his face full of pride. I glanced at my two roommates’ expressions – they looked like they had swallowed flies and were about to be sick. I couldn’t be bothered to deal with that bizarre family anymore. As long as they stayed away from me, I’d be fine. Penny settled into the bed by the door. The maids did all the bed-making and unpacking for her, while she said a tearful goodbye to her parents. I watched the warm, harmonious family scene with cold eyes, unable to keep a hint of bitterness from showing. Though the Parkers had given birth to me, they had never been so gentle towards me. What I heard most often in the Parker household was that no matter right or wrong, I always had to give in to my younger sister Penny. Sometimes I even wondered if I was really their biological daughter. Since they chose to give birth to me, and I had never been unfilial to them, why did they treat me so harshly? Just because I was the older sister? The maids took care of everything perfectly before the Parkers finally left. My two roommates hesitated before calling out to Penny, “We’re all going for a walk around campus. Do you want to come?” “No,” Penny rolled her eyes, all traces of the sweet obedient daughter gone. The two roommates didn’t press further. They called me to join them and we set off together. The main topic of discussion along the way was our new roommate Penny. I listened quietly without commenting. After living with Penny for 18 years, I knew her two-faced nature all too well. But I didn’t expect that when we returned to the dorm after our walk, my bed would look like it had been ransacked by thieves. Everything I had neatly organized was strewn about messily. Meanwhile, my roommates’ beds were untouched, with no signs of disturbance. Such obvious targeting made me laugh in anger. I yanked open Penny’s bed curtain. She was lying there playing on her phone. Our eyes met and she suddenly sat up. “What are you doing?!” “I should be asking you that. Why did you mess with my things?” I dug my nails into my palms, afraid I wouldn’t be able to resist slapping her if I didn’t. “Penny, don’t go too far!” “Do you have proof?” She stared at me challengingly for a few seconds before suddenly putting on a hurt expression. “Jane, I really didn’t do anything. We just met, why are you being so mean to me…” “You were the only one in the room,” I said coldly, watching her act. “If a thief came in, everyone’s stuff would be messed up. You wouldn’t be spared either. Do I need to spell it out for you?” “But I really don’t know anything about it.” She started to sniffle as she spoke. “Jane, why are you bullying me?” “Jane, stop,” my roommates said softly, giving me meaningful looks. I knew what they wanted to say. There were no cameras in the dorm, so no matter what I said, Penny could deny it. But it was crystal clear who had done this. I gritted my teeth and turned away, starting to clean up my things. In my mind, I was already thinking about installing cameras in the room. But Penny kept crying persistently. “Jane, how can you falsely accuse me like this?” “I didn’t do anything, but you came over yelling at me. We’re roommates, how can you bully me like this?” “How can you bully people with a clear conscience?!” “Waaah, I’m going to report this to the RA!” She cried harder and harder. My temples throbbed in irritation and I couldn’t help but turn back and shout, “Oh shut up already!” It was exactly like her old behavior – so annoying! But she cried even harder, slapping another label on me. “Jane, this is campus bullying. I can report you for this!” “Then go ahead and report me!” I was beyond frustrated, slamming things down loudly. Perhaps I should consider changing rooms? At this rate, I wouldn’t be able to focus on studying at all – fighting with Penny would consume all my energy and enthusiasm. “Both of you, calm down,” my roommates quickly tried to mediate, helping me clean up. I glanced at Penny in annoyance and saw that despite her teary eyes, she was smirking at me challengingly. I narrowed my eyes. So she was holding a grudge over the bed incident, huh? Setting aside the Penny situation, I was quite looking forward to college life. My new classmates seemed friendly too. However, the campus rumor mill was incredibly efficient. Soon, details about everyone’s family background and looks in our business school were circulating on the university forums. As it happened, the Parker family wasn’t as well-known as the Johnsons, and Penny’s looks paled in comparison to Jane’s. I became the beauty queen of the business school, leaving Penny in the dust. Within days of starting classes, I had a group of followers, even though I kept a cold expression. They just couldn’t be driven away. But privately, I got along well with my two roommates. They enjoyed hanging out with me. The three of us went everywhere together. With the crowd that always surrounded me, we were a lively group wherever we went. In contrast, Penny’s circle was much quieter. Every time she looked at me, her eyes flashed with jealousy. But I couldn’t be bothered to pay her any attention. Why should I care about a clown who was inferior to me in every way? “Just a peacock, that’s all she is.” We were all eating dinner in the dorm and chatting when Penny suddenly threw out this comment. She glanced at me sideways after speaking, her meaning clear. I nodded towards the new security camera in the corner. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.” With such a troublemaker around, I had asked my roommates’ opinions about installing a camera. They had enthusiastically agreed, with no objections. If we couldn’t handle her, we’d find a way to protect ourselves. “Hmph, I’m going to report you all for invading my privacy by not getting my consent,” she stabbed angrily at her food, glaring at me maliciously. I ignored her and said to my roommates, “Weren’t you just talking about your sisters? Let’s continue that conversation.” “My sister can be pretty fierce. When I was little, if I didn’t do my homework properly, she’d yell at me.” “Mine too. I got smacked by my sister plenty of times.” Though my roommates were complaining, their faces were full of smiles. The deep familial affection was clear as day. I was stunned for a moment. Was my bad relationship with Penny because I had never hit her? But if I had dared to be harsh with her, I would have been beaten half to death by our biased parents before Penny could do anything. “Don’t your parents tell your sisters to let you have your way?” I asked curiously. My roommates exchanged a glance and laughed. “No way. Whoever is wrong gets punished. And even though my sister hits me, she always saves the best food and toys for me first. I love my sister the most.” “Same here.” My roommates were smiling sweetly, but my heart was filled with bitterness. All the good food and toys went to Penny first. Why would she need me to care for her? In the end, it was favoritism that created the Amy who swallowed her pride, and the domineering yet fake-sweet Penny. I guess I just never had that familial bond with the Parkers. “Jane, are you an only child?” my roommates asked curiously. I glanced at Penny’s resentful face and nodded. “Yes, I don’t have any siblings.” I used to, but they disappeared along with Amy’s death. “Then we’ll be your sisters from now on.” My roommates smiled kindly, giving me their favorite dishes from their plates. I was touched, but before I could respond, Penny snorted coldly. “As if they’re worthy of being your sisters. You think Jane would want nobodies like you?” My roommates’ smiles froze, looking embarrassed. They were both from ordinary families who had worked hard to get into this good university. They didn’t have impressive family backgrounds to boast about. But I didn’t care about any of that. I put some food on their plates and said sincerely, “I do want you as my sisters.” They smiled at me gratefully. Penny scoffed from the side. “Oh please, Jane. Stop being such a hypocrite. You just want them to run errands for you.” “I don’t have any sisters. I like having sisters – it’s lively,” I replied blandly. But Penny laughed so hard tears came to her eyes. “You think I don’t have an older sister? Let me tell you, older sisters are just there to be ordered around!” “You-!” My roommates were furious. I nodded. “Then your sister must be truly miserable.” In Penny’s heart, what was Amy worth? Nothing at all. “Exactly! With a sister like you, your poor sister must have the worst luck in the world!” my usually mild-mannered roommates couldn’t help but lash out. “Sisters are supposed to support each other, share joys and sorrows. Only you would think of the relationship in such a despicable way!” “Your sister is so pitiful. You should just cut ties with her already.” “Hurry up and stop tormenting her!” As they ranted indignantly, I dug my nails into my palms, listening silently. After all these years, someone was finally standing up for me. The feeling of being truly cared for was wonderful indeed. “Oh, her? She’s already dead.” But Penny just giggled coquettishly, looking quite pleased with herself. “We both fell into the water at the same time, but my parents love me so much they chose to save me and let her drown.” Me: “…” I wanted to ask – could I curse this beast to death? My two roommates were shocked, staring at Penny dumbfounded. “Are you even human?” “Hmph, she was never likable anyway. It’s good that she’s dead,” Penny stabbed at her food distastefully. The shiny fork was like a knife, seemingly stabbing into my soul with each jab, causing unbearable pain. How could she speak so casually about my death? Was she even human?! “Wash my bowl for me. I’m going to order takeout,” Penny commanded one of my roommates matter-of-factly. But my roommate, who had previously been somewhat wary of her, directly refused with a cold face. No one paid her any attention anymore. However, Penny directed her resentment towards me. My things started going missing again, or would end up with strange smells on them. And whenever I lost something, the security camera would mysteriously go black. Everyone knew who was behind it, but there was no concrete evidence. My two roommates privately urged me to change dorms, worried I would end up like Penny’s sister. Little did they know, I was that abandoned sister. But I didn’t want to back down again. Penny’s grades were as terrible as ever. We’d been in classes for a while, but her textbooks still looked brand new. However, between the three of us roommates combined, we didn’t have as wide a social circle as she did. Every day she would dress up glamorously, either going to meet “big brothers” or hang out with “little brothers”. And ever since that day we discussed sisters, rumors about me suddenly started spreading around the department. They said I had loose morals, secretly hooking up with guys by using my looks. They said I had a haughty temper and liked to bully others. They even said my background was fake, that my family was actually dirt poor with my parents working odd jobs, while I bought luxury goods every day. Suddenly, my classmates started looking at me strangely. My roommates tried to explain on my behalf, but ended up being labeled as my lapdogs, getting pointed at and whispered about wherever they went. They were furious, but I remained quite calm. I didn’t interact much with people in our department, and the only person I had any grudge against was Penny. If she wanted to use these petty tricks to slander me, I wasn’t going to take it seriously at all. What kind of person I was couldn’t be destroyed by a few words from her. But photos started appearing on the campus forums. Some anonymous account had somehow taken pictures of me chatting with the campus heartthrob under a tree and posted them online. I thought the guy would clarify things, so I didn’t bother with it. But he ended up writing a long post under the photos condemning the original poster, without actually clarifying our relationship. Penny’s looks towards me became increasingly strange. Many girls started probing me, asking if I was dating the campus heartthrob. Heaven knows, I barely even knew the guy. However, every chance encounter between us would be magnified and discussed on the school forums, causing hordes of girls to attack me online. I was dumbfounded. What was even more outrageous was that while I was mired in these rumors, Penny suddenly released so-called evidence of me bullying her. In the photos, her eyes were red from crying, looking pitiful. The post also included an audio clip of me yelling at her in anger after discovering my things had been messed with on move-in day. I had been furious at the time, and my words “Go ahead and report me then!” became a heavily criticized point. The sound of me slamming things was interpreted as me violently beating Penny. My roommates had already been labeled as accomplices and couldn’t show their faces. Every day, girls would curiously peek into our dorm to watch the drama unfold. Some would comfort Penny, saying I would get my comeuppance. Penny played the innocent victim, finding new ways to torment me and my roommates every day. And then I saw the campus heartthrob hugging Penny.

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The two-faced girl buried her face in her boyfriend’s chest at her mother’s funeral. Watching the lovey-dovey couple and Claire’s hyperactive seven-year-old nephew, I chose to stay quiet as a mouse. Until the little nephew threw firecrackers near the urn at the funeral, and with a bang, gray-white dust scattered all over the ground. I leaned close to the dumbfounded Claire and whispered softly. “Your mom just went boom~” “Summer, those things are in the past. Why do you keep dwelling on them?” Lucas, my boyfriend of seven years, looked at me with disappointment. “If you go today, we’re breaking up.” Looking at Lucas’s still handsome face, I felt an unfamiliar sense of estrangement. “No matter how much bad blood there is between you two, Claire’s mother has passed away. Can’t you just let it go? When did you become so terrible?” Me? Terrible? Good grief, I almost laughed out of anger. Lucas was going to attend the funeral of his subordinate Claire’s mother, but his dear subordinate was the very person who had bullied me for three whole years during our school days. I couldn’t forget Claire’s pretentious face, nor could I forget how her mother had slapped me in front of the entire school. Lucas knew all about my past, but now, this man who had sworn to love and protect me was calling me terrible because I wouldn’t let him attend his subordinate’s funeral. “You’d still go even if it means breaking up?” I thought I would be hysterical. After all, before Claire appeared, we rarely had any arguments. Even when we were in a long-distance relationship for three years due to work, the word “breakup” was still taboo between us. Lucas didn’t respond, but his action of changing shoes at the entrance made his choice clear. As the door slammed shut, I felt utterly exhausted. The black screen of the TV reflected my dejected figure, as if I had returned to those days and nights from over a decade ago. I curled up in the corner of the dorm, fists and palms constantly falling on my body and face. Back then, I was also like this, hunched over, hugging my knees, like a drowned dog. The only difference was that back then, I couldn’t fight back and could only endure their bullying. But now, even if that scumbag and bitch want to be together, I’ll make them pay the price.

After contemplating my strategy, I applied decent makeup, changed into a black velvet long dress, and called a ride to Claire’s mother’s funeral. I knew Lucas too well. He cared a lot about his image and had repeatedly asked me to cooperate with him in public to maintain his good guy facade. So even if we broke up, he would push all the blame onto me to justify being with Claire. How could I let them have their way? I should have known when we first argued about Claire that Lucas was no longer the person who had pulled me out of the mire. At the funeral, Lucas was surprised to see me but still happily came to greet me. Before his hand could touch me, a petite figure like a broken-winged butterfly darted from behind me and threw herself into Lucas’s arms. Lucas’s face froze for a moment but quickly returned to normal, comforting the girl in his arms stroke by stroke. Muffled sobs could be heard, and I didn’t miss the flash of tenderness in his eyes. I watched the two calmly. This scene was within my expectations. After all, one of Claire’s favorite hobbies was using her pitiful face to seduce other people’s boyfriends and then cruelly humiliate the abandoned girls. Claire raised her head after crying enough, seemingly just noticing my presence. She shrank back like a frightened rabbit and timidly spoke. “When did you arrive, sis? I’m sorry, I was too emotional just now and couldn’t control myself.” As she finished speaking, her eyes reddened again. To an uninformed observer, it would seem like I had done something to her. “Couldn’t control yourself so you had to cry in my boyfriend’s arms?” Perhaps not expecting me to speak so bluntly, Claire choked for a moment and stepped out of Lucas’s embrace. “I overstepped. I’m sorry.” As she spoke, large teardrops fell one after another. I could almost hear the murmurs of the people around us, as it looked like I was bullying her. “Summer, you’ve gone too far,” Lucas frowned, his large hand reaching out to pull the crying woman back into his arms, softly comforting her. This was exactly the effect I wanted. I stopped paying attention to the two and casually found a seat where I could still see their interactions. They made quite a handsome couple. “Monster, take my punch!” A pain shot through my waist. I turned to see a snotty-nosed kid hitting me with an action figure. “Scared now, big monster? Pew pew pew!” The boy, seeing that I didn’t react, became more enthusiastic and even started kicking my shin. Not far away, a woman who seemed to be the boy’s mother saw that I wasn’t reacting and rolled her eyes before continuing to chat with the person beside her. “Little one, this isn’t right, you know.” I patiently tried to reason with him, but the boy not only didn’t stop but even tried to spit at me. Seeing his mischievous nature, I suddenly had an idea. “Hey kiddo, can you shoot lasers like the action figure?” The child was drawn in by the topic and sniffled, imitating the action figure’s laser-shooting pose. “No, no, when the action figure shoots lasers, there’s light. Look, just like that,” I pointed to a group of people preparing to light firecrackers not far away. They were a group of Asian Americans who had the custom of lighting firecrackers to ward off evil spirits in their country. As soon as I finished speaking, the firecrackers started crackling, with sparks of light reflecting in the child’s eyes. “See? That’s much more fun.” Seeing his excited look, I pretended nothing had happened and quietly moved away from him. After all, a child’s mind is unpredictable, and no matter what, I didn’t want to be implicated. Sure enough, after the firecrackers finished, it wasn’t long before there was a loud bang. The urn at the center of the memorial hall crashed heavily to the ground, gray-white dust scattering everywhere. The entire place fell silent. Even Claire couldn’t have imagined this scene, standing there dumbfounded. Only the child’s giggles could be heard. Perfect. I slowly walked up to Claire and leaned close to her ear, whispering softly. “Your mom just went boom~”

A good funeral turned into a farce. After I said those words, I tactfully left the scene, naturally missing out on a big drama. This scene was even posted online and quickly became the top trending topic. The comment section was full of discussions about how to discipline unruly children and sympathy for Claire in the video. Through this, Claire unexpectedly gained some fame, which was an unexpected benefit. I directly contacted a gossip account with a burner account and sent over the video I had recorded that day with the sound removed. Claire was quite popular recently, and this video hit the sweet spot for the gossip account. The content of the video showed Claire throwing herself into Lucas’s arms, followed by Lucas softly comforting her. Although there was no sound, just looking at the video, the two seemed like a loving couple. Besides this, there were other scenes of the two interacting, and in each frame, Lucas’s gaze was firmly fixed on Claire. The gossip account was very professional and didn’t ask who I was after receiving the video. After all, my burner account was newly registered, obviously not wanting my identity known. After doing all this, I packed a simple travel bag and left for a trip. The real show was yet to come.

My trip wasn’t long, just two weeks. During this time, I blocked Lucas on all contact methods, and he truly didn’t try to find me again. But it didn’t matter. The beautiful scenery made me forget the various unpleasantnesses of life and also allowed me to see myself clearly. I didn’t need to rely on anyone. Even if it was just me alone, I could feel love. But I hadn’t forgotten to keep an eye on Claire’s news. As soon as the video was released, it received a lot of attention from netizens. Originally, everyone was commenting on the most beautiful love, but some nosy netizens dug up my existence, and the tide of opinion immediately turned. Words like “homewrecker” and “two-faced girl” filled the comment section. This was exactly what I wanted, but it was far from enough. This was just the beginning. Claire seized the opportunity to start a livestream. After all, negative publicity is still publicity, and even if she was being scolded, such a large amount of traffic was enough for her to make a big profit. I was also present during the livestream. The first thing that appeared on the screen was Claire’s pitiful face, tearfully telling her story with Lucas. She talked about uncontrollable emotions, about restraint and self-control, about vulnerability and helplessness, portraying herself as someone who loved but couldn’t be with him, silently guarding him until she finally couldn’t help but throw herself into her beloved’s arms at her mother’s funeral. Throughout the entire time, she didn’t mention me once. I have to say, Claire played this move well. With her beautiful face and pretend strength, she aroused sympathy in the barrage of comments. Some even said it was because I was too ugly, not as pretty as Claire, so it was understandable that Lucas would pity and care for Claire. This really made me laugh. What kind of values are these? Just because someone is beautiful, they can shamelessly interfere in other people’s relationships? Just because they can cry, they can be forgiven for anything? Should ugly people just die? Should children who don’t cry starve to death? Some people even started fan pages for Lucas and Claire, shipping this couple under the name ‘Echoing Clouds’.

When I returned to the house Lucas and I shared, it was Claire who opened the door. She was wearing the couple’s fluffy slippers we had bought together, and on her body was my favorite silk camisole nightgown. Lucas heard the commotion and came out from the kitchen, still holding a spoon. He was very surprised to see me. “…Summer, why are you back?” I laughed coldly, “If I hadn’t come back, I wouldn’t have seen such an exciting scene.” “It rained heavily yesterday, Claire just came to shelter from the rain. It was too late so she stayed over, don’t overthink it,” Lucas frowned, his tone stiff. I knew this was his expression when he felt guilty. “If I had come back a little later, would you two have slept together?” “You really misunderstood, Lucas and I… we really don’t have anything…” Claire jumped in before Lucas could speak, her hand seemingly unconsciously tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. I naturally noticed the red mark on her neck. It was just a provocation tactic. Did she think I would hysterically argue like her previous opponents, letting her reap the benefits? I directly pushed past the two standing at the door, locked them out, and started packing my belongings, ignoring their constant knocking. This house was bought with a down payment I managed to scrape together when I got lucky with stocks right after graduation. To save on expenses, Lucas and I moved in as soon as it was renovated, thinking it would be our marital home. Now it’s just convenient to kick him out. When I first bought the house, I had thought about adding Lucas’s name, but at that time he had just graduated and wasn’t well off. Later when Lucas asked to add his name, it was always delayed for various reasons. Now it seems even the heavens didn’t think he was worthy. After the knocking continued for a while, my phone rang. It was Lucas’s good friend, Mark. I didn’t have a deep impression of him, we had only eaten together a few times. Unlike Lucas’s subtle thoughts, his intentions were written all over his face. The first time we met, that blatant appraising look made me very uncomfortable. I knew with my foot that this call was to speak for Lucas. I had been traveling for two weeks and Lucas couldn’t contact me, but now he was just locked outside, and this call came so quickly. “Hey? Summer, I can vouch for Lucas, he and Claire really don’t have anything going on. No matter how angry you are, you can’t lock people out in the cold, what will the neighbors think?” Mark’s frivolous voice came from the other end of the phone. “They know what they did. If they dare to do it, are they afraid of others knowing? Tell Lucas we’re done. I’ll put all his things at the door tomorrow, not missing a single item.” With that, I hung up the phone. The journey had left me quite tired, so I went straight to sleep.

The next day, I called a few cleaning ladies to tidy up the house. I had thought our little home we lived in together would be full of items with memories of us, but after a thorough cleaning, Lucas’s things only filled one storage box, most of which were things I had bought. A photo in the corner caught my attention, one I had never seen before. I cleaned off the dust on the surface and looked at it. It showed a man and a woman kissing. The man was, of course, Lucas, but the girl in the photo, with a ponytail, wearing an oversized school uniform that made her look extremely thin, had a face I would never forget. It was Claire, Claire from high school, or even earlier. In her first year of high school, she loved to tie a ribbon to her ponytail’s hair tie, hanging down with her black hair, just like in the photo. My heart felt like it had plunged into an ice cave. Lucas had never mentioned that he originally knew Claire, let alone that they had such an intimate past. Those unbearable scenes flooded back into my mind, and certain details I had deliberately ignored suddenly became clear. I had thought Claire’s bullying was just because I was different from them. When everyone was eager to be a bad kid, the only good kid stood out. I, who buried my head in studies, became the object of their ridicule.

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I got into my husband’s Rolls-Royce and overheard my future daughter-in-law calling me a homewrecker behind my back. I tugged on my husband’s ear and said, “While I was abroad these past few years, how did you manage to raise our son into such a love-struck fool?” My husband shrugged. “I’m only good at making money. When it comes to dealing with gold diggers, that’s your department, my dear.” I’m a writer who just returned home after living abroad for five years. I had barely sat down when my son Jason came rushing over. “Mom, Emily is such a wonderful girl. She’s definitely not after our money.” “She’s incredibly hardworking. She came from a small town and worked really hard to get into a top university despite all the difficulties.” “Her parents are elderly, and she has a younger brother.” “But her brother won’t be a burden to her, I promise.” My first thought was that he was protesting too much. The more someone emphasizes they don’t care about something, the more they actually do care. I smiled and said, “As long as she’s a good person, it doesn’t matter. We have plenty of money. Even if she had seven brothers, it wouldn’t be an issue.” Jason threw himself at me, beaming from ear to ear. “Mom, I love you so much!” I smirked and suddenly asked my starry-eyed son: “If she’s not after the money, what does she see in you?” Jason stammered for a while, suddenly filled with self-doubt. “Maybe she thinks I’m handsome?” Oh dear, I knew it. While I was abroad these past few years, his father was busy making money and ended up spoiling him rotten. My son has always been pure-hearted and kind. When he was little, he would cry and refuse to leave until I gave money to beggars we passed on the street. I’m really worried this angel of mine will fall prey to a gold digger’s schemes. After that, I quickly investigated Emily’s company and pulled some strings to get hired there. My desk was right behind Emily’s. The first time I saw her in person, I had to admit she was quite beautiful – fair skin, rosy lips, delicate eyebrows, and large eyes. She had a soft and innocent look about her. I glanced at her desk, which was covered in expensive cosmetics. There were several jars of La Mer creams and three or four luxury handbags. After completing the onboarding process, I had just returned to my desk when I saw a group of young women gathered around Emily, listening to her brag about how wealthy her boyfriend was. “Jason treats me so well. He’s incredibly generous. He lets me use Chanel perfume to freshen up the bathroom, wash the toilet with bird’s nest soup, use Louis Vuitton bags as trash bags, moisturize my feet with Estée Lauder, and use La Mer to moisturize my body.” I listened in shock, thinking “Oh boy…” No wonder my son’s spending had skyrocketed over the past year. His credit card bills suddenly jumped to over a million dollars per quarter. My son’s excuse was that it was for his studies. My fool of a husband actually believed him and gave our son whatever he asked for. My heart ached. The money my husband and I earned didn’t just fall from the sky! I was furious inside, cursing my son, but outwardly I sarcastically said to Emily: “Bird’s nest soup isn’t meant for flushing toilets. It depends on whether the toilet is worthy. What kind of toilet are you flushing? A rental apartment toilet?” The group of young women finally noticed me, the newcomer. They were all surprised by my sharp tongue and stood there stunned. Emily was clearly no pushover. She immediately fired back. “What’s wrong with a rental apartment? I rented it with my own hard-earned money. Are you jealous? You look like you’re in your late 30s. Is it because no man will pay for your expenses?” Seeing her roll her eyes, I suddenly felt like the son I had raised for over 20 years had been defiled by a pig. I could finally understand those fathers who cry their eyes out at their daughters’ weddings. A plainly dressed girl spoke up in my defense. I later learned her name was Sarah. “Emily, don’t say that. This lady clearly comes from a good background.” The other young women sided with Emily though. It seems they often benefited from her generosity. “Emily, why are you bothering with her? She’s clearly just a bitter old maid who’s jealous of you!” “Yeah, why else would someone her age be competing for jobs with us young people?” I smiled and said, “Auntie here is 50 years old. My son is older than your boyfriends. I have a loving marriage and a harmonious family.” The young women who had just been mocking me were shocked. I only looked to be in my early 30s, which immediately piqued their interest. They crowded around me. “Auntie, how do you take such good care of yourself? You look so young!” “You don’t have a single wrinkle. You must come from a wealthy family.” “Auntie, is your son single?” “Auntie, do you want to adopt a goddaughter?” “Auntie, you’re so beautiful. Your son must be very handsome!” Emily was left standing there, her eyes wide with disbelief. I glanced at Emily disdainfully and said, “Of course. My son is 6’1″, with sharp features and bright eyes. He’s just not very smart.” Just then, Emily’s phone rang. She answered in a soft voice: “Yes, I’m free tonight. Where should we eat?” “Oh no, that place is too fancy.” “Being frugal is a virtue. Let’s go to a food truck instead.” After hanging up, Emily waved her phone at the other girls. Her expression was full of smugness as she pouted and said: “My boyfriend is so considerate. He insists on taking me to an expensive restaurant where the average bill is over $100 per person. I want to eat at a food truck, but he’s upset about it.” Then, she triumphantly showed me her phone wallpaper, which was a photo of my son. “Auntie, is your husband as handsome as my boyfriend?” I smiled and said, “No, your boyfriend is more handsome.” “After all, I gave birth to him.” I almost couldn’t hold back from saying that last part out loud. Emily smiled knowingly and said, “Of course. My boyfriend is half American and half Japanese.” I was stunned. Which one of us – me or my husband – was the secret Japanese person? After work, Emily was in a rush to leave. As she was leaving, she commanded me in an imperious tone: “Please hand in the report on my desk to the manager.” I coldly replied, “Don’t you have hands?” She smirked and touched up her lipstick in the mirror: “You’re new to the workplace. This is how things are done. Don’t be difficult!” “Fine,” I agreed reluctantly. I glanced at the manager’s office. No one was there. After she left, I tore out a page from the middle of the report and tossed it onto the manager’s desk. After doing that, I looked out the window and saw my son waiting downstairs in his Maserati. Jason opened the car door for Emily and carefully shielded her head with his hand to prevent her from bumping it on the doorframe. He had learned those gentlemanly gestures from his father, and he wasn’t bad at it. It’s just that with Emily as the female lead, my son seemed a bit… like a lovesick puppy. Just as I was feeling dejected, the group of young women invited me to dinner with them. I happily agreed. Being around young people made me feel younger at heart, which I enjoyed. I asked Sarah if she wanted to join us, since she had spoken up for me earlier. She declined, saying, “I can’t, I have a part-time job as a designated driver. Shh, don’t tell anyone.” I winked at her, silently agreeing to keep her secret. The young women took me to the food street near our office building. These young people’s tastes were certainly different from an old fogey like me. Along the way, they chatted about things like: “I’d sleep with Tom Holland on Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday, Chris Evans on Thursday, Friday, and Saturday, and both of them together on Sunday.” I didn’t even know who they were talking about. Time really does fly. Unable to join the conversation, I focused my attention on the food instead. Sizzling grilled meat skewers, fragrant egg pancakes. The air was filled with the aroma of street food. I ordered an egg pancake and was about to enjoy it. Looking down, I suddenly spotted my son and Emily in a nearby alley, Crouched on the ground, eating something that looked dark and unappetizing. Next to him was a sticky black plastic bucket that looked like it was filled with gutter oil. Flies were buzzing around my son’s glossy short hair. In that moment, I truly felt I had failed as a mother. When he was young, I often took him to shabby restaurants to experience hardship and build character. Who knew it would turn him into someone with no standards, willing to eat anything! But honestly, how could I bear to see my son eating such dirty food! At home, when his father washed fruit for him, even tap water wasn’t clean enough. We had to soak it in baking soda and then rinse it with mineral water. In that moment, I really wanted to rush over, grab his ear, and tell him: “Your girlfriend eats street food in front of you, but behind your back she’s using Chanel to freshen up the bathroom. Don’t you know that, you fool!” My hands were shaking with anger, but I had to control myself. It wasn’t time for me to reveal myself yet. I hid in a secluded corner and finished my egg pancake without really tasting it, then went home fuming. Sitting on the couch, I pouted with my lips turned down. When my husband Henry saw me, he immediately sat down beside me to comfort me. “Honey, how was your first day at work?” I described everything I had seen and heard, then asked sheepishly, “Who do you think our son inherited his intelligence from?” Henry laughed. “It must be your chromosome 16 acting up.” His reminder brought back painful memories. We lost our first child unexpectedly. Later tests showed that a duplicated segment on my chromosome 16 was the cause. Chromosome 16 is responsible for intelligence. Children born with this issue would either be extremely smart or severely intellectually disabled. Back then, my husband and I couldn’t accept the possibility of having a child with severe disabilities, so we considered not having children at all. But Jason didn’t give up on me. We anxiously went through the ten months of pregnancy, and after he was born, the doctors said there were no issues with his intelligence. Only then did we breathe a sigh of relief. Now it seems his emotional intelligence might be a bit lacking, especially when it comes to choosing a girlfriend. With mixed feelings, I waited up for my son until the early hours of the morning. When he turned on the lights, he was startled to see me sitting on the couch. After composing himself, he suddenly pulled out a bouquet of carnations from behind his back and said with a smile: “Mom, these are for you. I haven’t had a chance to spend time with you since you got back.” I immediately burst into tears. This bouquet of carnations moved this old mother to tears. But then, he asked in the next breath: “Mom, can I have the keys to the villa in the small town?” My mood immediately plummeted again. I quickly wiped away my tears and asked warily, “What do you want it for?” “Mom, I can’t bear to see Emily living in a rental apartment anymore. I want to let her live in the villa. It’s just sitting empty anyway.” This Emily was quite clever. After I mocked her for living in a rental apartment during the day, she immediately whispered in my son’s ear that night about wanting to live in a big villa. I didn’t know how to refuse, but just then my husband leaned against the doorframe with his arms crossed and spoke up: “That house is being used as employee housing now. Some employees will be moving in in a few days. The beachfront villa is empty though, does she want to live there?” The beachfront villa was a two-hour commute each way from Emily’s office. A lazy person definitely wouldn’t want to wake up early and get home late every day for work. My husband was quite shrewd. Hearing this, my son’s eyes immediately dimmed. He didn’t even bother to take off his shoes at the door before lowering his head to send a text message. He was probably asking for Emily’s opinion. Sure enough, a moment later, he declined decisively: “Never mind then.” Leaving those cold words behind, he returned to his room. I was not in a good mood. My husband took the opportunity to score some points, trying to win my favor: “Our son brings you flowers but has ulterior motives. I’m better, aren’t I?” I asked in confusion, “How so?” He looked at me tenderly and said, “You’re not going to work tomorrow. I’ve booked a table at the revolving restaurant to welcome you home.” Hearing him say that, my anger immediately dissipated. “Wow, Auntie’s husband is so classy? What a coincidence to run into you here.” At the restaurant, just as my husband and I were having our private moment, a coquettish female voice rang out. I looked up and saw it was Emily, accompanied by two young women around her age. Before Henry could even turn his head to look at her, she had already plopped herself down next to him, then said to her companions: “You two go ahead and look around. I’ve run into a colleague.” The two young women walked away, chatting and laughing. Emily sat on the corner of Henry’s black coat. His face darkened. Emily smoothed out her long dress, crossed her legs to reveal her snow-white thighs, and said to my husband, “Uncle, I’m a colleague of Auntie’s. You don’t mind, do you?” Henry looked puzzled. He had never seen Emily’s photo before, so I quickly explained, “This is Emily.” Hearing this, a meaningful look flashed in my husband’s eyes. He quickly pulled the corner of his coat out from under her bottom, but smiled and said: “Of course I don’t mind.” “Where’s your young boyfriend?” I asked her curiously. She lowered her eyes to look at the menu, answering absent-mindedly, “He’s picking out a house for me.”

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Dallas Monroe, a billionaire, announced publicly that he intended to locate his 100 biological children, born from his years of sperm donations. My best friend Amber found out she was one of his children and wanted to claim her connection with him. Out of concern, I warned her that Monroe was critically ill, and the reunion might be a front for something else. She listened and didn’t pursue the reunion. But then Monroe passed away, and every recognized child inherited millions. Amber blamed me for ruining her chance at a fortune and stabbed me to death. When I opened my eyes again, it was the very day Amber had come to tell me about her father. I was jolted awake by someone shaking me. Blinking my eyes open, I saw Amber Reed leaning over my bed, face flushed with excitement. “Jess, can you believe it? I’m actually Dallas Monroe’s daughter!” I flinched, instinctively leaning back to avoid her too-close proximity. My fingers brushed my throat, and a faint memory clawed its way back—the suffocating feeling of Amber’s crazed attack when she plunged that knife into my neck. My breathing hitched. Exactly like before, Amber was gesturing wildly as she told me the story. Her dad, suffering from infertility, had turned to a donor program. She was born from a high-quality donor’s sperm. And just yesterday, Dallas Monroe had gone public with his donation history, stating he wanted to reconnect with the children who shared his genes. Every recognized child, she explained, would be entitled to inherit his estate. “My DNA matches his exactly! Jess, I’m his daughter! Do you think I should go and claim my inheritance?” Amber’s face lit up with anticipation. She’d always been more interested in wealth than reality, spending college aiming to bag a rich guy and settle into a comfortable life. But rich guys didn’t marry girls like her—they just had fun. So, in that past life, when she discovered she was Monroe’s daughter, she was dead set on pursuing her “heiress dream.” But back then, I found out that Monroe was terminally ill and that there were almost a hundred children in line. Out of concern for her, I advised her not to rush it. “I’ve heard that some wealthy people use DNA matches like these to cultivate ‘genetic donors’—you know, personal blood banks or even organ donors. It’s strange he’d be reaching out now, right when he’s this sick. You might want to hold off,” I said. Amber brushed it off, but after a few of the so-called “heirs” went mysteriously missing, she got scared and thanked me profusely for warning her. “You saved me, Jess! I could’ve been toast without you. You’re the best!” This girl, who once said I was her “best friend,” later became convinced I was the one standing in the way of her fortune. When she failed to win over Ryan Cooper, and then learned that all the recognized children got the inheritance after Monroe died, she blamed me for the life she thought she’d been cheated out of. On my birthday, she’d come at me with a knife, stabbing my throat over and over, cursing furiously: “If it weren’t for you! If you hadn’t stopped me, I would’ve been the billionaire’s heiress! Ryan wouldn’t have left me, and I wouldn’t be living this miserable life!” “Jessica Walker! This is all your fault! Die!” What she didn’t know was that, the same day she killed me, the police released a statement exposing Monroe’s scheme. The sperm donations had been real, but the reunions were fake. Every child who’d reconnected with him had been a lab rat for a new medical experiment. Yes, inheritance rights were promised, but Monroe’s “illness” and “death” were fabricated. He’d already hidden his assets and was planning his fake death and escape. The only thing left behind was millions in debt, not a single cent of inheritance. But Amber never got to hear that truth from me. She’d already killed me. Amber’s twisted, hate-filled face from that day flashed in my memory, overlapping with her current, eager expression. This time, I only smirked. “Congrats.” Some people just can’t be saved. I chose to let fate take its course.

Amber looked smug, like she’d already planned out her entire fairytale life as an heiress. “Tomorrow, I’m going to that DNA testing lab Monroe announced. When it’s confirmed that I’m his daughter, I’ll finally be moving out of this dump.” She gave our apartment a once-over, grimacing. “I’ll make Dad buy me a real house. I’m not staying cramped in this worn-out place. It’s dirty, the neighbors are trash, and it’s just gross.” I held back a laugh, thinking of how she had zero job prospects and no money when she’d practically begged me to live with her. She’d never once paid a dime in rent, and all she did was freeload. From washing dishes to taking out the trash, I’d had to nag her three times over to lift a finger. She called it “helping me out,” but she barely ever did anything. Honestly, letting her move out would be perfect. Whatever mess she got into wouldn’t be my problem. I nodded eagerly. “You’re right, this place is way below you. I doubt your billionaire dad would want you slumming it here either.” Amber looked even more pleased, grinning as though I’d just confirmed her every hope. “Don’t say I didn’t give you a chance to shine. Drive me to the testing center tomorrow,” she said, cocking an eyebrow. I raised mine right back, not missing a beat. “My car’s still in the shop. Why don’t you ask your boyfriend? Once he knows who you are, he’ll probably be thrilled to help.” That hit a nerve. Amber had recently snagged a boyfriend from a wealthy family and was constantly flaunting her designer handbags, but she knew he was just playing around. She shot me an irritated look before plastering on a self-satisfied smile. “Fine. I mean, he’s practically my match anyway. He can drive me. He should get to see the kind of place I’ll be living in soon,” she replied, sauntering off to her room. In my last life, that boyfriend dumped her after flaunting her around a bit, then married his family’s choice. When she tried to make a scene at his company, his fiancée publicly humiliated her, calling her a wannabe Cinderella. Back then, I’d actually tried to comfort her, not realizing she blamed me for talking her out of meeting Monroe. In her mind, it was my fault she’d missed out on her golden ticket. Not this time. I was keeping my hands clean. As soon as she shut her door, I sent a message to my boss, took the day off, and scheduled a moving company. By the time Amber left the next day, I had packed everything I owned. Once the lease ended, she could deal with the apartment however she wanted. Avoiding toxic people is the first rule of happiness. When you meet someone like that, don’t fight. Just walk away.

After spending the whole morning moving into my new place, my phone buzzed with Amber’s call. “Jess, they gave me this bottle of pills to take before the DNA match can be processed. Since you’re in medical school, can you check if there’s anything weird in these pills?” Amber’s bossy tone grated at me. She was always like this, expecting me to do favors for her family or friends, to cover their costs, to use my time for her benefit. I’d drop everything to help her, and she never showed the slightest gratitude. I replied, “That’s not exactly my field, Amber. Besides, since Legacy Medical produces the pills, you’d need to go through them for testing. That’d cost you thousands.” That got her attention. “Testing, really? Come on, Jess! You’re supposed to be my best friend, and you’re asking for money?” I stifled a laugh. She just wanted a scapegoat if something went wrong, someone to take the fall. And I wasn’t about to hand her that. She kept going. “You’re so heartless! Don’t you remember how I pulled you out of that fire all those years ago?” I’d had enough. “Amber, are you really the one who saved me?” Back in middle school, when a fire broke out, I’d woken up in the hospital with Amber at my side. She swore she’d saved my life, and I spent years doing everything she wanted, “repaying her” for saving me. It wasn’t until the last moments of my previous life that she admitted, “Why do you deserve a better life than me? I locked you in that classroom and watched the fire break out. Lucky you didn’t die. It was only because they put us in the same hospital room that I could make you think you owed me.” Amber went quiet on the phone. After a long pause, she stammered, “What’re you talking about, Jess? No one but me could’ve saved you. Just tell me if these pills are safe.” Her brazen denial made me laugh coldly. In my past life, she’d also snuck off to have the DNA test. When she got the meds, she’d asked me to double-check them. Back then, I’d paid out of pocket to get them analyzed by a top lab, only to discover they were unapproved for human testing. Amber and the others were basically lab rats. Legacy Medical was hyping its newest anti-aging “blood cleansing” drug, claiming it could remove toxins. Older clients would benefit from younger relatives’ blood transfusions, living longer, more vibrant lives. After hearing my warning, Amber hadn’t taken the pills and avoided the worst. But she never thanked me—instead, she thought the dead were “unfit heirs.” She was sure she’d be the one to survive and inherit. I said, “But if you test the pills, won’t Monroe know? He might revoke your inheritance.” There was a pause. “Wait… he’d do that?” I smiled, giving her one last nudge. “He’s your father, Amber. I’m sure he’d never harm you.”

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Blake Sterling drank excessively during a social event, triggering an acute heart attack. After being rushed to Riverbend General Hospital, he died. After his death, over a dozen banks and predatory lenders came after me for repayment, and I only then realized he was buried in massive debts. I sold everything I could, but it was just a drop in the bucket. The loan sharks forced me to work at Neon Nights Club. For ten whole years, I endured abuse and contracted numerous diseases. The doctor told me I had at most another month to live. Walking aimlessly on a desolate road, a luxury car hit me, sending me flying. Out of the car came my husband Blake Sterling, who should have been dead for ten years, and his first love, Aurora Blake. “Why did you fake your death?” I raged. “Because I won a $200 million lottery, and I didn’t want to share it with you.” This malicious man enjoyed the prize money alone, living happily with his first love, but left me with enormous debts. He reversed the car, cruelly running me over. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day he faked his death. Content

“Sister-in-law, death cannot be undone. Please accept your condolences and move on,” attending physician Jasper “Jazz” Collins comforted me. He was also a good friend of my husband, Blake Sterling. I touched my face, smooth and delicate, whereas in my previous life, after contracting numerous diseases, my face was covered with dense pustules. I realized I had been reborn! Blake Sterling’s “corpse” lay peacefully on the bed, covered from feet to head with a white cloth. I bawled loudly, rushing forward to tear off the white cloth. “You bastard, how many times have I told you not to drink, not to drink, and you just didn’t listen. Now you just closed your eyes and left me alone in this world, so lonely. How am I going to live?” As I cried heart-wrenchingly, I slapped him hard. Blake’s face turned red from my slaps, but his body remained motionless, likely because he was given a sedative or similar drug; he couldn’t move, but his consciousness was still present. Seeing Blake’s face turn red, Jazz quickly came over to stop me. Because the dead don’t blush. “Sister-in-law, please calm down. I know you’re deeply grieving, but venting your frustration on Blake’s corpse is of no use,” Jazz stood in front of the “corpse.” Jazz and Blake were in cahoots. In the entire scheme to fake death, Jazz was key. He was the attending physician responsible for declaring Blake dead and issuing the death certificate. “Jazz, as a renowned doctor, you couldn’t even save your best friend. How can you live with that?” I cried, using all my strength to hit him. “Sister-in-law, I did my best…” Jazz winced in pain, “Stop hitting me. When Blake was brought in, it was already too late to save him.” I ignored his explanations; I just wanted to beat him up. This bastard, in my previous life, helped Blake fake his death, causing me to bear enormous debts and live a life worse than death. “You and he are sworn brothers. You promised not to seek the same birth year, month, and day, but to die on the same year, month, and day. Now, go die and join my husband below.” I transformed into a shrew, scratching him hard, leaving his face bruised. “Sister-in-law, that was just a joke after drinking.” “Smack!” I, holding back tears of grievance, gave him two hard slaps. “Sworn brothers are under heaven’s witness, but you called it a joke? While my husband saw you as a brother, you see him as a monkey? I now seriously doubt you didn’t try your best to save my husband.” Jazz looked embarrassed, “Sister-in-law, I swear, I did my utmost to save Blake, but I’m not a god; it was truly beyond saving.” I collapsed to the ground, sobbing, “Husband, wake up! How could you abandon me alone…” “Sister-in-law, no matter how much you grieve, Blake won’t come back. Please take care of yourself.” He said, handing me a bottle of water. “Drink some to calm down.” “Drinking more water won’t ease my inner pain.” I directly smashed the water bottle on his head. In my previous life, I drank this water, then passed out. When I woke up, my mother-in-law was already holding Blake’s urn. So, this water must be tainted. “Ah!” He cried out in pain, “Sister-in-law, don’t go too far.” “Too far? You, as my husband’s brother, didn’t shed a single tear, and yet you say I’m too far?” Jazz hesitated, looking guilty, “I… I’m deeply saddened.”

“Jazz, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have snapped at you,” I said softly, wiping my tears. “I understand, sister-in-law. I don’t blame you.” “Although Blake is gone, I want him to live on in another way.” I looked tenderly at Blake’s “corpse.” Jazz looked puzzled, “Sister-in-law, what do you mean?” I took out my phone and called the hospital’s organ donation office. “Yes, it’s my husband, he just passed away. I want to donate his organs to those in need.” Upon hearing this, Jazz turned pale. A slight oversight. They never expected me to donate his organs. “Sister-in-law, how can you unilaterally decide to donate Blake’s organs?” Jazz asked, anxious, sweating profusely. “I’m his wife. I have that right.” “Blake is dead, but you’re still tampering with his corpse. This is really disheartening.” I frowned, confused, “Jazz, you’re a doctor. How could you say such a thing? My husband is dead, but his organs can still save many people. As a doctor, don’t you have that level of awareness?” After hearing this, he became dazed, his face pale. The organ donation doctor was upstairs. He quickly entered the room, saw me, and tightly held my hand, moved: “Ma’am, thank you for supporting the medical field. Here’s the donation agreement. Please sign it.” I quickly signed. Jazz, sweating and panicked, said, “Blake’s mother hasn’t agreed to the donation yet. According to regulations, if even one direct relative refuses, the donation cannot proceed.” “Jazz, my mother-in-law is a person of great integrity. Besides, Blake told me when he was alive that if he ever dies, he would donate his organs to those in need. Blake has always been a kind-hearted person. I must help him fulfill his last wishes.” “When did Blake ever say that?” Jazz questioned. “Do we have to tell you every single thing between us, Jazz?” I retorted. He was speechless. “My husband died of a heart attack. Except for his heart, all other organs can be donated—his eyes, organs, bones, skin—give them all to those in need. The remaining skeleton can be donated to the medical university for practice or research.” “Ma’am, your generosity is truly touching. To be honest, there’s an 18-year-old girl urgently needing a kidney transplant, and a child needs a cornea…” During our conversation, Jazz grabbed his phone and walked out of the room, likely urging my mother-in-law to come quickly. “That’s urgent. Hurry and push my husband away. Extract the organs immediately. Every minute counts; any delay could cause the organs to deteriorate.” I maintained a noble expression. The donation doctor pushed the bed outside. “Can’t leave!” Jazz blocked the door, sweating profusely, forehead dripping with cold sweat. “Dr. Collins, what are you doing?” The donation doctor was puzzled. “Jazz, please step aside. If the donation is delayed, my husband’s last wishes cannot be fulfilled.” I scolded him. “Blake actually… Anyway, he can’t leave… sister-in-law, I’m begging you.” Jazz was frantic, almost revealing the truth. “Dr. Collins, please don’t interfere with my work.” The donation doctor pulled his face. “Dr. Reed, Blake’s mother hasn’t arrived yet. Sister-in-law, no matter what, you need to let your mother-in-law see Blake one last time.” Jazz insisted. “First, extract the organs, then it’s not too late to see him. You heard what was said earlier, there are patients waiting for organ transplants. Saving lives is like saving from a fire; no time to waste.” “I heard what this family member said too, Dr. Collins, please step aside, or I’ll report you to the dean.” Dr. Reed snapped. “Scarlett Monroe, you wicked woman, your son just passed away, and you want to dismember him for his organs? I won’t spare you.” My mother-in-law burst into the room, furious.

“Aunt Evelyn, it’s not dismemberment, it’s organ donation,” I explained. “Who allowed you to do this?” “I’m helping Blake fulfill his last wish.” “You’re talking nonsense. How could my son donate his organs? I absolutely refuse.” My mother-in-law pushed Dr. Reed away, “Get out of my house! I won’t donate my son’s organs.” Dr. Reed left the room, displeased. Jazz sighed deeply, his nerves slightly relaxing. Blake on the bed was probably relieved to have escaped death. “My poor son, you died, how can I live on…” Aunt Evelyn feigned despair, collapsing on Blake and crying uncontrollably, “It’s all your bad luck, your curse, you killed my son. I want you to pay for this.” Aunt Evelyn turned her wrath on me, slapping me. I was furious. In my previous life, Aunt Evelyn had sent Blake’s “corpse” to the crematorium, obviously knowing Blake had faked his death. “Vivian Harper, get it straight. It wasn’t me who killed Blake, it was you!” I pushed her aside, growling fiercely. Aunt Evelyn was stunned, “You lie! How could I kill my own son?” “Why was Blake so desperate to socialize and make money? It’s all because of you. You have a gambling problem, losing money every day. How much debt have we paid off for you? Don’t you know what’s going on in your heart?” I raged. “My gambling debts only totaled about $1 million.” “Vivian, what you say is so light. The average wage in our city is only $1,800. Most people never save up $1 million in their lifetime.” “Two months ago, your medical expenses were over $20,000, paid by us. Don’t think I don’t know. You weren’t injured from a fall; you were beaten and hospitalized.” “You hang out at the mahjong parlor every day, hooking up with married men. You were beaten up by someone else’s wife, right? I understand you’re lonely, empty, and itching for attention, but why can’t you just find an old man properly, instead of hooking up with married men?” “You’re talking nonsense.” My mother-in-law’s face was filled with shame. “I’ve seen your discharge summary, your scandalous tales have already spread. You disrespect your elders. It’s all your fault Blake died.” I cursed loudly, feeling very satisfied. “Shut up!” My mother-in-law hysterically lunged at me, trying to choke me. I dodged quickly, she crashed into the wall and instantly fainted. “Mother-in-law…” I anxiously lifted her up and rushed to an empty bed across the room. Jazz followed closely. “Jazz, hurry and save my mother-in-law. Nurses, nurses come quickly…” I shouted down the corridor. Soon, several nurses rushed into the room. Jazz was giving Aunt Evelyn treatment. Taking advantage of the gap, I put a bag of Blake’s clothes on the bed, then pushed Blake up the elevator. At the entrance, the funeral home car was already waiting. I pulled out a thousand dollars for the driver, telling him to take the fastest route. After driving a portion of the way, I received a call from Aunt Evelyn, which I didn’t answer. Then, a call from Jazz followed, which I also didn’t answer. In the back of the car, it was only me and Blake. I opened the bag of clothes, searching for the lottery ticket, and quickly found it inside my phone case. The lottery ticket was tucked into a folded $100 bill. He always liked to put a $100 bill in his phone case, symbolizing “Money in my hand, I have the world.” The lottery was a single bet, 40 times, with a prize of $200 million. With this money, this life, I could finally enjoy life. I tore off the white cloth and saw Blake’s crotch was soaking wet. It seemed the organ donation incident scared him into wetting himself, confirming that although he couldn’t move, he was still conscious. “Blake, I found the $200 million lottery ticket. Aren’t you suspicious why I knew about it? I’m telling you, I was reborn.” “In my last life, you and your first love were living luxuriously, but you left me with piles of debt. Predatory lenders forced me to work at Neon Nights Club, I got sick with diseases, and in the end, you ran me over with your car. Are you even human?” “You loved faking your death so much, so in this life, I’ll grant you. After you enter the crematorium, you’ll taste the pain of being burned alive.” I gritted my teeth. Blake’s eyelids suddenly twitched a few times. “Scared? Didn’t expect it to turn out this way? Regret it? Want me to spare you? That’s impossible. I must cremate you today.” Aunt Evelyn and Jazz kept calling, but I simply turned on ‘Do Not Disturb.’

After more than 30 minutes, we arrived at the funeral home. Originally, I thought we could be cremated immediately, but there were six slots ahead. I asked the staff, and they said my turn would be at least three hours later. I panicked; Aunt Evelyn and Jazz must be on their way right now. Suddenly, I had an idea. I pounced on Blake, crying loudly: “Husband, what are we going to do? I can’t cremate you before 11 AM. If we miss the time, you can’t reincarnate forever…” The waiting family members all looked at me. I knelt on the ground, begging them, “In our hometown, there’s a custom that cremation time can’t exceed 11 AM. Otherwise, the soul won’t catch the ferry to the Spirit City. Uncle, Auntie, can you let me cut in line?” Some of them showed compassion, some hesitated, some were undecided. I took out my phone, “I’ll compensate you $3,000.” Hearing the money, they agreed to let me cut in line. I transferred $3,000 to each of the six prior families. After more than ten minutes, I pushed Blake into the cremation chamber. I noticed Blake’s middle finger twitching a few times. I leaned over Blake’s ear and said, “Scared? Regret? It’s too late.” The cremation chamber staff told me to wait outside. I begged, “Sir, please let me give my husband his final farewell.” After saying this, I gave him the last thousand dollars in my pocket. “Good journey, husband!” I personally pushed him into the cremation furnace and pressed the red ignition button.

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After graduating with his master’s degree, my boyfriend insisted on taking us to go wingsuit flying. I advised against it, explaining that it was a professional sport and not something to try lightly. My boyfriend heeded my warning. The other adventurers? Some went missing, while others lost their lives. A year later, we went abroad for our honeymoon and encountered a robbery. I was shoved in front of my husband to block a knife; his face twisted with rage: “This is all your fault! If you hadn’t stopped me, Felicity wouldn’t have died!” It dawned on me that my husband had harbored resentment for my earlier intervention, blaming me for the death of his childhood friend. When I woke up again, I heard my boyfriend’s voice, filled with excitement but tinged with a hint of fear, asking: “Vi, are we really going to participate?” “Isn’t it dangerous?” My husband’s voice echoed in my ears, making me shiver involuntarily. I touched my waist, feeling a dull pain in my abdomen. That day was sunny, and I was in line at Horizon Trust Bank with my husband, exchanging money. Suddenly, several masked robbers burst in, brandishing guns and knives. We were close to the exit and had a chance to escape, but at the last moment, I was forcefully pushed inside. The robber noticed my attempt to flee and plunged a knife into my stomach. I stared in disbelief. He stood outside, watching me from a distance, muttering to himself. We both had a chance to get away—why was he doing this to me? Perhaps the robber hadn’t anticipated that I wouldn’t be dead yet. As I lay there, clinging to life, my husband returned after the robbers left. The crowd dispersed, leaving no one to care for a stabbed victim in a foreign land. He knelt beside me; my head spun from pain as I struggled to raise my eyes and ask him: “Why, Damon…?” It had been seven years since we graduated college and got married. Our honeymoon had just begun. Why was he doing this to me? Damon caressed my face, wiping away the blood at my mouth, then suddenly pinched my cheek hard. He leaned close to my ear, his voice a mix of sorrow and fury: “This is all your fault! If you hadn’t stopped me, Felicity wouldn’t have died!” I realized he had always believed that my interference caused his childhood friend’s death. So, when he saw the chaos, he pushed me into the abyss of death without hesitation, seeking revenge for Felicity. But if I hadn’t intervened, he could have died in some unknown corner. “Darling, what are you daydreaming about?” His deep voice brought me back to reality. I felt my abdomen; there was no blood, no terrifying stab wound. I pinched the soft flesh of my inner thigh. Ouch! Sharp pain. I had truly been reborn. It was the fourth day of our camping trip at Sapphire Peak Wilderness. At that moment, Felicity announced she wanted to go wingsuit flying. The sky was bright blue, and the wind rustled the grass beneath me, creating waves that looked like a scene from a Miyazaki film. The smell of fresh grass, mingled with a hint of mist, wafted toward me, uplifting my spirits. Behind me were my boyfriend and the adventurers Felicity had brought along. I gazed into the endless sky and casually replied: “It’s your graduation trip; you get to choose.” We were all adults here; we should bear the consequences of our choices, right?

In my previous life. Damon had asked me the same thing about going wingsuit flying. Many didn’t know that Damon had a fear of heights, which I discovered only after visiting an amusement park with him. I kept silent after that, never allowing him to engage in any high-altitude activities again. One important detail was that none of the people present had much understanding of wingsuit flying; it was an extreme sport. The reason wingsuit flying had no negative reviews was simple—those who died couldn’t leave feedback. I rejected Felicity’s invitation, but she was insistent about trying, which led to us parting ways. I dragged my boyfriend to do other activities instead. In the end, Felicity and the other adventurers crashed into trees and died in the mountains. The rescue team took a long time to find their remains. My boyfriend showed no signs of resentment toward me. He continued to care for me attentively. I thought he had moved past the shadow of Felicity’s death. Little did I know he was just burying his anger, already blaming Felicity’s death on me. This time, I respected his wishes. My boyfriend glanced at me and then back at Felicity. Without much hesitation, he accepted her invitation. “Well, if everyone’s okay with it, let’s get our gear on and start,” Felicity announced, smiling at everyone. “I’m opting out of this project,” I raised my hand to signal everyone. “You’re dropping out? But we’ve already paid!” Felicity jumped in before Damon could respond. “Right, we don’t need a refund; I have a fear of heights and won’t participate.” My boyfriend’s face immediately fell; he grabbed my hand, trying to sway my decision. Seeing my boyfriend’s small gesture, Felicity’s expression darkened, though her tone remained a bit pitiful as she said: “But I heard Vi loves high-altitude activities, so I specially chose wingsuit flying. Are you saying I wasn’t accommodating enough?” “Are you looking down on us?” As she spoke, she wiped her tears, looking sadly at Damon, whose expression turned sour. I remained silent; this kind of lowly tactic was beneath me, and speaking out would only disrespect myself further. The atmosphere grew awkward. Damon, noticing my silence, stepped forward to comfort Felicity, and I watched them like a spectator at a circus. Felicity found a way to save face and brazenly took Damon’s hand, leading him outside. “Alright then, if you’re not participating, Damon, let’s go get ready,” she said. I happily pulled my boyfriend’s hand from my arm. I couldn’t stop someone eager to meet their demise. I initially thought we would enjoy the scenery, eat, drink, and take photos. Who knew Felicity was actually thinking about extreme sports? My boyfriend chimed in with enthusiasm, but he didn’t realize his own limitations as he kept pushing forward. Though it was said to be my boyfriend’s graduation trip, the choice of destination was entirely Felicity’s. Seeing my actions, my boyfriend instantly panicked. He shook off Felicity’s hand and pulled her out of the tent, laughing as he took my hand. “Vi, what’s wrong? Felicity’s just young and talks without thinking. I’ll apologize for her; we adults should rise above petty grievances.” “Let’s go relax; we still have the parachute, right?” He couldn’t go alone and couldn’t just leave me behind. After all, a freshly graduated young man couldn’t compare financially to someone like me, a wealthy heiress. He still relied on my connections and influence. If anyone saw him getting close to another girl, and if I decided to end things, he’d lose everything. Yet he seemed to revel in other girls adoring him. Previously, I was completely devoted to him, always anticipating his feelings, taking on the rejections he wanted to avoid. He was just a passive boyfriend, a trophy in my life. Now, with my eyes opened and my mind clear, the haze of love had lifted, and I refused to waste time on a thankless person. Damon tugged at my arm, his tone a bit whiny: “If you don’t go, I’ll be worried going alone. Come with me; I’ll protect you.” In the past, when he played the charm card, I’d relent and agree. Now I just wanted to say: No way! I brushed his arm off, a teasing expression on my face: “I’m not going. A bunch of inexperienced people think they can take on wingsuit flying? If you all don’t value your lives, I sure do!” Felicity’s expression twisted; she hadn’t expected me to reject so outright, and my words were so blunt. I turned toward the direction of the car to find the keys, preparing to pack up and leave. My boyfriend dashed over, gripping my shirt tightly: “Then let’s do something else, Vi! I won’t do it either.” I shot him a glance: “I’m leaving; you can play by yourself.” Having packed my things, I couldn’t find the car keys anywhere. My boyfriend wanted to help but didn’t know how. He continued to speak kindly about Felicity, trying to win me over. I tuned him out, letting his words drift from one ear to the other without registering. I ignored him, focused solely on leaving. As for why I wouldn’t break up now, it was because we were in the wilderness. He was still a grown man; if I brought it up, what if he got angry and attacked me? I couldn’t risk facing that again. The universe had given me a second chance, and it was wise to be cautious. Once I left, I’d send a “happy breakup” text. “Don’t even think about it; the car doesn’t have enough gas to leave,” Felicity’s voice called out from behind me. I turned to see her dangling a bunch of car keys, jingling them with delight. “And we drove a long way to get here. Without a map, you’ll never make it out on foot.” “You can fly out with us.” I narrowed my eyes at Felicity, whose eyes gleamed with malice. She was right; in my past life, I hadn’t left, just stubbornly refused to join in and stayed at the campsite. It wasn’t until the rescue team arrived that I learned Felicity and the others had sent a distress signal. “What are you afraid of? I remember you loved high-altitude activities; why are you backing down?” Felicity continually tried to tempt me to join her, knowing that if I didn’t go, my boyfriend probably wouldn’t either. It was crucial that if the past repeated itself, with him blaming Felicity’s death on me and finding another opportunity to kill me, this rebirth would have no purpose. The past me would never agree. But the present me is more confident. I pondered it over and decided I’d just watch them go to their deaths. “Fine, since you insist, I’ll participate.” I set down my bag and arranged my things neatly. Felicity looked pleased as she eyed Damon beside me. Damon liked me a lot; after two years of relentless pursuit, I finally agreed to date him. I never imagined he would try to kill me for Felicity. He always prioritized my wishes. But this was the kind of person who would push me in front of danger, seeking vengeance for his beloved childhood friend. Such a character was deeply biased; he blurred the lines of right and wrong, projecting his guilt and faults onto others while judging them from a moral high ground. I had once thought he was gentle; I later realized that was weakness. Rather than getting entangled, it was better to send them off to their doom. In the middle of the night, I heard soft rustling sounds from Damon’s bed as he quietly left the tent.

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