Is 'Discord' Based On A True Story?

Thanks to my addiction to the stories regarding true and fake heiresses, I'm afflicted with strong paranoia that everyone is out there to get me. For some reason, I keep thinking that I'm a fake heiress who will eventually get kicked out of my home. In order to avoid getting set up, I stay on my guard every day. Not only do I hire some people to act as the actual heiresses and visit my home from time to time, but I also have them put on performances with me while clutching paternity test reports and heirloom pendants as props. On the day I'm done rehearsing all of the webnovel tropes, a pure and innocent young woman comes knocking on the door. Interestingly enough, she has live comments surrounding her. As she shows the pendant and a paternity test report, she starts crying sadly. "Mom, Dad, I'm your actual daughter!" The live comments begin spamming relentlessly. "I'm tired of looking at pure and innocent female leads! A manipulative true heiress, on the other hand, is a breath of fresh air! Not only does she intend to regain everything that belongs to her, but she also vows to teach the fake heiress a lesson she will never forget!" "Just look at how amazing her acting and her expression are! Her parents will definitely fall for her excuse, hook, line, and sinker!" Amid the live comments' cheering, my parents just nod thoughtfully. "The actress who's playing this role today is quite talented."

In the middle of the night, my smurf account gets added into a group chat called "lucky draw group". The rule of the group chat is rather weird. Whoever gets their hands on the lucky draw that's titled "lucky winner" must reveal their deepest and most shocking secret. I intend to watch the entire drama at first. But that's when a female user named Evie Sachs suddenly posts in the group chat. "My husband has always thought that he's the children's actual father. The truth is, he's not." Everyone in the group chat is quick to spam the chat with laughing emojis. "Miss, you can't just come up with a story that far-fetched without any logic!" "That's a really ridiculous story! Do you seriously take for all men to be idiots?" "We demand photos as proof!" Evie uploads a few photos of her sleeping with other men as well as the dates of her children's birth. The moment I glance at the birthdays, my hand goes slack, causing the milk bottle to fall to the floor. My daughters actually share the same birthdays as Evie's children!

A week before our engagement, I finally learned that the man Madison Clarke had always secretly loved... was me. Overjoyed, I hurried to sign to her, wanting to tell her that I was LeoWinter—the gaming partner she'd been coupled with online. What I got in return was ridicule. "Charlie, how does a mute guy like you manage to pull so many tricks?" "LeoWinter already told me his account got stolen. He switched accounts ages ago. And you still want to pretend you're him?" It felt like a bucket of ice water had been dumped over my head. My entire body went rigid. She had forgotten that this game ID was permanently bound to the account. It was impossible for it to be stolen.

On the day the male influencer patient was discharged, he posted a tearful video accusing my chaste, principled doctor wife of sexually assaulting him. In the clip, he cowered in a corner of the hospital, trembling, his clothes disheveled. With a terrified cry of "Dr. Shelby," he abruptly cut the footage. Overnight, my wife became a monster in a white coat—public enemy number one across the internet. We begged him, again and again, to come forward and clarify the truth. Instead, he posted an injury assessment report and wept about being bullied by his doctor. My wife had no way to defend herself. She was suspended pending investigation—and in the end, she leapt from the thirtieth floor. I endured humiliation and waited for the truth to surface. When it finally did, I obtained a reexamination report that proved her innocence. But by then, no one cared about the truth anymore. And I, consumed by despair, died of cancer. When I opened my eyes again, I had returned to the day that patient was first admitted. This time, I begged my wife to take leave—I wanted to take her away from this doomed fate. But my gentle wife wrapped her arms around me, her eyes red, and said, "Don't be afraid, honey. This time… I won't run away."

The day I was about to quit the game, countless floating comments suddenly appeared before my eyes. [Finally! The villainess is quitting!] [Now Janet Cole doesn’t have to worry about getting exposed for using her account to flirt online.] [The heroine is so smart–she always uses voice chat in-game. The villainess has no idea.] [Janet is living the dream–using her max-level account to juggle five top-tier players at once!] [At 2 PM today, she’s meeting her 'No.1 catch'–the cold, untouchable campus heartthrob Cedric Barnes!] [Assassin god tomorrow, rich scion the day after… her time management is insane!] The Janet they were talking about… was the fake heiress who had taken my place in my own family. She had been impersonating me–using my account to flirt with five elite players at once? Then more comments appeared… [Why hasn’t the villainess left yet? The male lead is already waiting.] [This is the first sweet date between the leads–can’t wait!] I turned to look at Janet, touching up her makeup in front of the mirror–and suddenly, it all clicked. The 'villainess' they were talking about… was me. So the real heiress–me–was nothing more than a disposable side character, a stepping stone for the fake one? A faint smile curled on my lips. If she could impersonate me online and play the field, then me showing up in person and stealing everything... wouldn't be too much, right?

Every year on the day the SAT results are released, I spend the entire day kneeling at my mother's grave. Three years ago, I fell for a phone scam and transferred all of the tuition money she had saved through years of diligently saving up to the scammers. Unable to take the sudden blow, Mom suffered a fatal heart attack. After she passed away, debt collectors began showing up at our door. Only then did I learn how much money she had borrowed just to keep us afloat. I have no choice but to give up my admission offer from Jaloria College. Working five jobs a day, I finally repay every last debt today. On the subway ride to the cemetery, I suddenly come across a streamer whose voice sounds strangely familiar. She blabs, "How do you teach kids the value of earning money? In my experience, extreme circumstances work the best. I deliberately created a scenario for my daughter where both her parents are supposedly dead, and she inherited a million dollars of my debt. "She's almost finished paying it off now. Tell me, can your kids do that?" Someone in the comments section questions her methods, saying it is too insane. She only grows more smug as she gloats, "So what? She's the one who was stupid enough to get scammed. I was just teaching her a lesson. As a reward for doing so well, I'll tell her the truth on her birthday five days from now. Any sensible child will understand their parents' good intentions." As she gestures animatedly, a crescent-shaped birthmark on her wrist comes into view. It's identical to my mom's. My hands tremble as I create a new account. I switch the profile picture to a man in a suit and change the background to luxury cars and mansions. Then, I send her an expensive virtual gift. While she excitedly thanks me, I leave a comment. "You're absolutely right, ma'am. If only I had a smart woman like you around to help me raise my children."