Are There Alternate Interpretations Of Sayuri Cause Of Death?

Even knowing that wailing at an Eravalen aristocratic funeral was considered disrespectful to the deceased, I let my husband's adopted sister make a scene anyway. In my previous life, my husband, Robert Baker, had a distant relative among the Eravalen aristocracy who passed away. A lawyer informed him that he stood to inherit the estate and invited him to attend the funeral. His adopted sister, Mia Carter, insisted on tagging along to see how the privileged few in another country lived. She wanted to rub shoulders with nobles and make herself look important, even planning to wail dramatically in front of everyone. I rushed to stop her. "Loud mourning is taboo among the Eravalen nobility. Forget inheriting anything. We'll all be thrown out!" Yet she burst into tears, accusing me of looking down on her and thinking she was not good enough to mingle with aristocrats. She stormed out and was killed by street thugs in a random attack. I thought Robert would fall apart, but he stayed silent through the entire funeral and collected his inheritance without a hitch. Six months later, on our wedding anniversary, he took me to the snowy mountains for a photoshoot. The moment we reached the peak, he shoved me into a sleeping bag and tied it shut. "If you hadn't blown everything out of proportion, Mia never would've run off and gotten herself shot." He buried me alive in the snow. I froze to death, and he used that aristocratic fortune to become the CEO of a publicly traded company. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day Mia insisted on wailing at the funeral.

My adopted Omega sister, Maya Bardolph, is known to be innocent and kindhearted. Before the practical admission assessment, I specifically tell her not to interfere in any way. But she secretly puts a prohibited performance booster into my water bottle. I am reported for cheating on the spot. My results are canceled, and I am permanently blacklisted. When I break down and demand an explanation, she bursts into tears, looking pitiful and wronged. She weeps, "Sierra, I just wanted you to get first place... I didn't know things would turn out like this." My boyfriend, Dale Ashshade, immediately pulls her into his arms and blames me instead. He scolds, "She is only trying to help. Why are you being so harsh to her?" My parents chastise me frostily as well. "Isn't it just one practical assessment? She's an Omega. She doesn't understand these things. Can't you be more patient with her?" To apologize, Maya smilingly brings me a cup of herbal tea later. "Sierra, I made this just for you. Promise you won't be mad at me anymore after you drink it, okay?" Without thinking much about it, I drink the tea. But what she uses to brew the tea is highly poisonous silver oleander. I die from the poisoning. Outside the emergency room, Maya cries hysterically, "I'm sorry! I didn't know silver oleander is poisonous... I just wanted to apologize to Sierra..." When questioned by the Enforcers, Dale calmly gives false testimony. "After Sierra was caught cheating, she became mentally unstable. She couldn't accept how things turned out and took silver oleander to kill herself..." When I open my eyes again, I return to the day before the assessment.

My family has always considered me a harbinger of misfortune. It's all because I can see a countdown to my relatives' deaths. I tell them when my grandfather, father, and mother will die. It all comes true due to various accidents. My three brothers hate me to the core because they think I cursed my parents and grandfather. My mother actually dies after giving birth to my younger sister, but my brothers dote on her to no end. They say she's their lucky star because everything goes well for the family after she's born. But didn't Mom die while giving birth to her? On my 18th birthday, I see my death countdown when I look at myself in the mirror. I buy an urn I like and prepare a meal. I want to have one last meal with my brothers, but none of them show up even when the timer hits zero…

The fake heiress, Jean Shore, has left a suicide note prior to taking her own life. In the note, she claims that I'm the one who killed her. In order to make me admit my crime, my parents has sent me to an institution as a human test subject. Every day, I'm forced to endure inhuman torture of all sorts. Needless to say, I'm in so much pain that I choose to secretly take some poison in order to kill myself. But my enraged older brother, Sebastian Shore, saves my life. With bloodshot eyes, he yanks me by the hair while yelling at me. "The pain that you've gone through isn't even a thousandth of the pain Jean had endured! You don't have the right to die!" I can only obey Sebastian numbly. But soon, I get sent to the restricted area. There, my belly swells with life, only for me to lose it some time later. Finally, I've learned my lesson and become docile. No matter what anyone asks me, I keep admitting that I'm a vile woman who has killed Jean. My parents burst into delighted tears. Sebastian can't wait to have me sent to the court, where I will be sentenced for my crime. He tells me, "As long as you admits your crime and go through the punishment, we'll forgive you." I say yes in an obedient manner. I know that my family wants me to be sentenced to death. But what they don't know is that I can't live long enough for the death sentence to be carried out.

In the late stages of her pregnancy, my wife slipped away into the mountains with her childhood sweetheart, seeking some reckless thrill under the open sky. Fate, however, had other plans. She suffered a massive hemorrhage, and the two were rushed to the hospital. As a doctor, I took one glance at her condition and instructed the nurse to prepare for the cremation. In my previous life, I had risked everything to save her. On that very operating table, she and the child inside her perished together. Her childhood sweetheart, overcome with grief and fury, rallied others to accuse me of seeking personal revenge. Their rage was relentless, and they broke my hands. "A butcher like you, without medical ethics, deserves nothing less than eternal damnation!" they shouted, their words burning like brands on my soul. Yet I distinctly remembered—the surgery had been a success. Her vital signs had stabilized. Clinging to hope, I begged my in-laws to conduct an autopsy, to uncover the truth buried beneath the accusations. Instead, they called the police, who swiftly charged me with performing surgery under the influence of alcohol. Stripped of my rights, I was thrown into prison, where suffering became my only companion. Years later, upon release, I stumbled across a sight that tore what was left of my heart to shreds—my wife, alive and well, behind the wheel of a luxury car, accompanied by her childhood sweetheart and their child, living off the fortune I had worked tirelessly to build. Their betrayal didn't end there. Coldly and methodically, they lured me into a trap, casting me into a cement mixer to erase every trace of my existence. When I next opened my eyes, time had rewound itself. I was back on that fateful day, the one when her hemorrhage began.

In my past life, my sister's secret lover says he wants to see a meteor shower. So, she takes all the family bodyguards and drives out to the countryside to create a romantic night under the stars for him. But she doesn't realize that an old enemy she once ruined sees the opening. They break into our home, seeking revenge and planning to wipe out the entire family. My mother throws herself over me to protect me, taking the brunt of the attack. She's critically injured and is barely hanging on. I call my sister again and again, begging her to come home. She eventually returns with the bodyguards, but it's too late. The enemies are caught, but then news comes in from the outskirts—her lover has disappeared, leaving behind a suicide note. In it, he blames me, accusing me of deliberately luring my sister away so that he would suffer at the hands of her enemies. Ultimately, he takes his own life. My sister burns the letter without a flicker of emotion. She says, "Don’t overthink it." Later, the blame falls on her. Our father promises to hand the family business over to me. But after the celebration banquet, my sister murders me in the bedroom. She stares at me with a blank face and snarls, "Someone as cruel as you should've died long ago. It should've been you who died, and the family inheritance should've been mine!" I die with a heart full of rage and disbelief. When I open my eyes again, I hear our enemies breaking down the villa doors.