Can You Analyze 'I Was Worth Less Than His Debts' In Context?

Peter Crowley finds out that it's been three days since I last lodged a purchase request from him. Thinking that I've finally learned how to become a good wife, he decides to text me as a form of reward. "I've already restored your adoptive mother's treatment privileges. You should be more docile from now on. Don't keep lying just to ask for more money from me. "I know that it's tough, being from the bottom rung of the society and all, but I'm not a gullible idiot, you know." What Peter doesn't know is that I've already finished drafting a divorce agreement by the time I receive his text. Before leaving the manor, the only thing I can take with me is the white T-shirt and the jeans I wore when I first married into this family. No one will ever believe that I, the glamorous and radiant Mrs. Crowley, don't have enough decent clothes to take up an entire closet. Every cent meant for any private expenses needs to go through a corporate approval system. All of the fancy clothes and jewelry are locked up in a safe, too. If I ever need money, I'll have to submit a request to Peter's secretary, Cara Harden. This is all because Peter looks down on my background. He thinks that I'll somehow develop a bad habit of spending money excessively just because I've married rich. But three days ago, my adoptive mother was in critical condition. I quickly put in a request for 200 thousand dollars for her surgical bills, only for Cara to drag out the approval system's procession. In the end, my adoptive mother died in the hospital. Peter has no idea that the only reason why I can tolerate his behavior for so many years is for the sake of the medical resources that can cure my adoptive mother. Now that my adoptive mother is dead, there's no need for me to continue staying in this marriage.

Five years ago, my family died in a car crash. My parents. My adopted sister, Liz. Everyone but me. They left behind grief, an empty house, and a debt so large it swallowed my life. When the collectors came, I turned to the only person I had left—my husband, Adrian. He told me he had cut ties with his own family to marry me and had nothing left. I believed him. For five years, I worked every job I could find, paid every dollar I earned, and told myself love was worth the suffering. When the balance dropped to its final $18,000, I signed up for a paid drug trial at a private clinic. They handed me a waiver, warned me about possible delayed reactions, and promised fast money if I swallowed the experimental dose. I thought it would buy us a new beginning. Instead, I came home early and heard Adrian on the phone. “Let Liz use the card. Evelyn still doesn’t know. She took away Liz’s money five years ago, so she has to earn every dollar back herself.” Then he laughed softly. “One more year, and her punishment is over.” That was how I learned the dead were alive. The debt was fake. My husband had never been poor. And the life I had fought so hard to survive was only a sentence they had given me.

My husband, Julian Harlow, has died, leaving behind a five-million-dollar debt. I decide to inherit his debt right away. However, my best friend, Evangeline Frost, goes crazy from worry because of my decision. In my previous life, Evangeline had advised me to not inherit Julian's debt because he didn't have any assets. So, I signed the agreement to give up on inheriting his assets and declare that I had nothing to do with Julian in order to escape from the debt. But the debtors kept haunting me. They even kidnapped my son, Shawn Harlow, just to force me to pay the debt. The debtors were extremely violent and ruthless. On top of that, they kept using Shawn's safety as leverage over me. Every time they forced me to pay the debt, I felt as though I was being tormented slowly yet painfully. In just 24 hours, I asked all of my relatives for help, but I was only able to gather 100 thousand dollars. In the end, Shawn never escaped from his fate. I was sold to Northreach by the cruel debtors in order for the debt to be cleared. But that was when Evangeline claimed that her own son had finally returned to his roots, thus successfully inheriting the assets of a billionaire. I finally found out that said billionaire was actually my dead husband when I watched the news on the TV. Only then did realization dawn on me. Julian was pretending to be poor this whole time. It turned out that Evangeline's son was actually his illegitimate child. The assets that I had given up all went to Evangeline and her son in the end. Filled with resentment, I tried to escape back to the country in order to settle the score with Evangeline, only to die to the electric fence surrounding the slave camp in Northreach. When I open my eyes again, I've returned to the day Evangeline tells me to give up on the assets.

After my family is burdened with a debt of 5,000,000 dollars, I become the only person in the family who can no longer afford to "die". Dad is trampled in the mud by our creditors, protecting what's left of my school tuition fees even if it means breaking his fingers. He roars, "You can hit me, but don't you lay a finger on my daughter!" At that moment, Dad's small, hunched figure becomes a debt that I can never repay in my lifetime. Meanwhile, Mom kneels before the creditors, grovelling in the mud as she begs for a few more days of grace. Burdened by Mom and Dad's love for me, I drop out of school and go to work at a factory to make as much money as I can as quickly as possible to pay back the debt. Ultimately, my landlord kicks me out of my lodging on Christmas Eve. I'm also sporting a high fever in the snow, but my wages from the factory are still unpaid. I call Mom and beg her to transfer just 50 dollars to help me out. However, she doesn't sound concerned or anxious on the other end of the line and utters in disgust, "Haven't you gotten your wages already, Carolyn Swanson? "How dare you lie to us? Who taught you that? If you can't afford to buy the meds for your so-called fever, then you might as well just die!" Then, she hangs up on me cruelly. I grip my phone in my hands, watching the snow falling from the sky. My hands feel even colder than the icy ground at this point.

In order to take care of my father, who got hurt from a fall, I gave up on my chance to get promoted and even took a week's leave. On the day he gets discharged from the hospital, my dad hands me a mysterious envelope with a wide smile on his face. "Thank you for your trouble over the past few days, Luther. This is a little token of appreciation from me. You can buy yourself a nice pack of smokes." I rub my hands together, feeling warmth surging into my heart. But when I open the envelope, all I see is seven dollars. Still, I comfort myself in thinking that the sum isn't important at all. It's the thought that counts, after all. But the next day, I come across a social media post of my younger brother, Felix Grayson, who never showed his face around the hospital during Dad's hospitalization. It features a photo collage of a luxurious villa, with a photo of the purchasing contract smack dab in the middle of collage. The caption writes, "I bought the top-tier riverside villa for seven million dollars! Thank you so much for your support, Dad!"

The graduate school admissions are nearing an end. At the same time, a post titled, "What Happened to the Boy Who Left the Last Two Questions Blank for You?" goes viral. Amid countless comments criticizing people who throw away their futures for love, one young woman's boastful comment stands out. She writes, "Back then, he left the last two questions blank just so he could attend the same college as me. Now, he gives up his chance to attend graduate school abroad so that we won't have to enter a long-distance relationship. He says that between his future and me, I'll always be more important." Those who know they are loved always have the confidence to take it for granted. As soon as the comment is posted, countless replies pour in. There are envious replies and increasing arguments over the topic. I feel a twinge of envy because my boyfriend and I are the exact opposite. When my boyfriend does poorly on his exam, I want to apply to the same college as him. However, he advises me against it, saying my future is more important. Yesterday, he tells me he fails to secure a graduate school recommendation and won't be able to go abroad with me to continue his studies. Staring at the two lines on the pregnancy test, I begin seriously thinking about our future. Perhaps because the young woman has received too many hateful comments, she eventually posts a photo showing her boyfriend's side profile. She gloats, "You're all just jealous because I have a handsome boyfriend who loves me this much, aren't you?" The instant I see the photo, my blood runs cold. The man in that picture belongs to Joshua Salter, my boyfriend of seven years. Everything from the past comes crashing over me like a tsunami. It turns out the signs have been there all along. I wipe away my tears. Joshua is right. Between my future and him, my future is indeed more important.