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In order to stop me from spending money recklessly, my mom has exchanged my college living expenses into coupons. If I need to buy anything, I must buy it online. Also, I need to send a copy of my expenses sheet and the details behind said expenses to my mom so that she can check everything thoroughly. Only when she's given me her permission can I buy that item. When I tell my mom I want to buy a shirt, she tells me, "I remember you could still wear that shirt back in your high school days. You should just stick with it. Why waste your money on new clothes?" During winter, I can only wear the old sweater I've been wearing since my high school times while huddling in a corner of my dorm and nibbling on a sandwich. Meanwhile, my mom smugly posts a picture of the six-thousand-dollar dress she has just bought on her social media feed. "What a beautiful dress!"

As the project lead, I was supposed to receive an annual bonus of $28,000. However, my wife transferred all the money to her newly hired male assistant and simply tossed me a supermarket gift card instead. “There’s $30 on this card. Buy whatever you want. I’m pretty generous, aren’t I?” I was stunned. “Joy, my mother needs that money for her surgery. You can’t be serious!” She sneered and said, “Why waste money on someone who’s dying anyway? At most, I’ll give you $700 to pick out a nice coffin.” Looking at her smug face, I smiled as well. Joy probably forgot that although she held all the company shares, the core patents of the company were registered under my personal name. I immediately sent a message to my lawyer. [Starting today, I’m releasing all patents in my name for free!]

My mom wants me to report every single detail in my life to her every day. I only get to receive my allowance once I do so. One phone call is equivalent to me receiving one cent. "My dear daughter, I love you so much, you know. Just let me know whatever you're doing every day. Only then can I relax." I don't have the heart to let my mom down, so every day I put all of my effort into coming up with something. That way, I can only gather enough money to buy the cheapest food in the cafeteria. But the food isn't enough to sustain me, leaving me hungry every day. Finally, I break down emotionally. That is, until I receive an allowance from my dad, who's supposed to be dead for many years…

I ran a bakery studio in an old neighborhood for three years, focusing on good quality and fair prices. When neighbors came to buy cakes, I gave them a twenty percent discount. I also made it a habit to add an extra piece of pastry. During holidays, I handed out free samples. I believed that treating others with kindness would never go wrong. That was until my neighbor Rosalind Weber asked me to make a thousand-dollar money-pull cake but only transferred one hundred dollars as payment. “I’m supporting your business. Even at twenty percent off, you’re still making a huge profit. “Use the best buttercream and give me your most expensive pastries for free. I need it tonight, so don’t embarrass me.” Thinking we were neighbors, I held back my anger. When I pointed out that the thousand dollars in cash hidden inside the cake had to be covered by the customer herself, she flew into a rage. “What cake costs over a thousand dollars? Is it made of gold?” She immediately went online and accused me of hiking prices. She also used AI to create obscene images, falsely claiming that I smeared cream on private body parts to seduce men, which was why I had repeat male customers. She called the city’s business complaint hotline eight times in a single day. Her actions not only destroyed the reputation I had built over three years but also caused my fiance to break off our engagement. Because of that, I was forced to refund the money and apologize to her. Later, for her husband Marvin Smith’s birthday, she swaggered back to my shop. This time, she slapped the table and ordered a ten-thousand-dollar money-pull cake. I smiled and agreed. This cake would be my “congratulatory gift” to her entire family.