Can High IQ Low EQ People Succeed In Real Life?

In my previous life, after I got divorced, the court awarded me custody of our newborn son, as he was still nursing. On the other hand, our daughter would live with my ex-husband. I raised my son to be humble and polite. He was admitted to MIT. On the day the results were announced, various media outlets rushed to interview me to ask about my parenting secrets. Meanwhile, my daughter dropped out of school and eloped with a hooligan. She got pregnant before she was even sixteen, becoming a negative example of teenage delinquency. At thirty, she was still sponging off her father, having achieved nothing in life. My ex-husband's dream of having a successful daughter was shattered, much to his shame. He came to confront me at my son's college acceptance party. He insisted that I had passed on bad genes to our daughter, which caused her failure. During the argument, he stabbed me in the chest and then jumped to his death. When I opened my eyes again, I was back in the courtroom on the day of the child custody ruling. This time, my ex-husband spoke before I could, asking the judge to grant him custody of our son. I immediately realized he too had been reborn.

Nicholas Hunt loves testing me a lot. When I just graduated from university, he tried to make me take on a five-million-dollar house mortgage. After I turned him down, Nicholas was quick to buy Yvonne Myers, the campus belle, a villa that was worth eight million dollars. It was even paid in full. As he held the property deed, he told me, "The truth is, I'm super rich. I've been pretending to be poor just so I can test your integrity. "It's a shame that you never passed my test. I'm very disappointed in you, Elizabeth. Let's break up." I just smiled at him casually. Then, I walked away without hesitation. What a coincidence. I'm the daughter of the richest man in the country. I, too, had been pretending to be poor. Four years later, we bump into each other at the Fortune List Summit. At that time, Nicholas has just squeezed into the top 50 rank. He walks into the venue with Yvonne clinging to his arm. It's then he notices me. I'm wearing plain-looking clothes without any jewelry adorning me, and I happen to be holding a child. Thinking that I'm a nanny, Nicholas begins mocking me. "Wow, you really went all out just to steal one more glance at me, huh? I can't believe you're able to follow me all the way here. "You should learn to accept reality, though. I'm on the Fortune List, while you're working as someone else's nanny. The gap between us is far too wide, so you should stop dreaming already!" I just ignore Nicholas in favor of resenting my dad for making me attend this stupid event. After all, I've just managed to block out one full day just to spend time with my son, and yet I have to waste my precious time on this dumb event.

At the company's annual gala, the CEO announced that this year's top sales performer would receive a two-million-dollar year-end bonus. I was the top performer. However, my manager called me into his office the very next day and explained that the company was cutting costs and improving efficiency. As a result, my bonus had to be reduced. I initially assumed everyone's bonus was being cut. Then, I found out I was the only one getting shortchanged. Even worse, they handed my position to a useless coworker who could barely do the job. I understood everything immediately. 'So this is how it is. You're tossing me aside after you got what you wanted from me.' Fine. I stopped putting in any effort from that day forward. I clocked in, did the bare minimum, and watched the company slowly fall apart. Sales began to drop month after month. Even the major clients I had already secured began withdrawing their investments. That was when the CEO finally panicked. He showed up at my front door, begging me to fix things. I kicked the door open and looked down at him. "You think a garbage company like yours deserves my help?"

A month before the SATs, I, Jenny Reid, could see my score. Literally. It was just floating right above my head. But there was a catch. Every time I cracked open a prep book, my score would drop by ten points. But if I skipped a day of school? It jumped right back up by ten. So, I played the system. For a whole month, I barely lifted a finger. And on the day of the test, the number glowing over my head was a solid 1560. When the scores finally dropped online… I'd scored a 500. And the 1560? That was my little sister Patricia's score. My parents lost it. As punishment, they got me a grueling night-shift job at a local electronics factory. That first night, a bunch of guys I'd never seen before cornered me in the parking lot and beat me half to death. Fading in and out of consciousness, I heard my sister's voice right by my ear. "You just had to one-up me, didn't you? Thought you were so smart… but you never figured out I was the one controlling that number over your head." The truth hit me like a physical blow. The score had been her trick all along. I opened my eyes—and I was back. One month before the SATs. The number above my head read exactly 1300. "Hey," my sister said, all fake sweetness. "Want to study together tonight? We can go over the practice tests." I looked at the stack of papers in my own hands. Without a word, I pulled out my lighter and set them on fire right there in the driveway. "Exams are coming," I said, watching the flames. "I'm not studying." My score ticked up to 1310. My sister's face was this perfect mask of disappointment, but the second I turned away, I caught the sly smile she couldn't quite hide. She had no idea… the real performance, the one I'd been rehearsing just for her, was finally about to begin.

When the SAT scores are out, I've scored 400 out of 1600. That's because I never wrote anything on my exam papers. My mom goes crazy, whereas my younger sister, Melinda Bolton, bursts into tears. But I just laugh at them instead. In my previous life, Melinda had formed a pact with the score-swapping system. That was how she swapped our SAT scores. She became the top scorer that all prestigious universities fought to recruit. I, the valedictorian of my year, not only got into a trade school, but I also got expelled from my previous high school. Melinda had the gall to comfort me. "Didn't you call yourself a genius, Melissa? Trade schools are very popular right now. In the future, you'll secure a job at a factory out there!" In this life, I spend my exam hours sleeping in my seat the whole time. Melinda wants to swap her scores, right? Then, let's do it properly!

I am heading to my job interview when my close friend, Thomas Lang—the same guy who always cautions me about meddling in other people's business—suddenly throws caution to the wind and sprints toward the wrecked limousine. I instantly realize that Thomas has been reborn, too. In my past life, Thomas and I were the top two graduates of the finance department, both making it to the final round of interviews at a Fortune 500 conglomerate. Yet, on the day of the interview, we suddenly came across the CEO, Ruth Gibson, who had just gotten involved in a car crash. I abandoned the interview to save her, while Thomas hurried off to the interview. In the end, Thomas landed the offer, while I lost my shot at working at the top conglomerate. I received sympathy from everyone around me. However, Ruth sought me out eventually, and in the spirit of profound gratitude, she presented me with an immediate proposal of marriage. I became the man who would marry Thomas' superior, achieving incredible status overnight. Meanwhile, Thomas stayed an ordinary worker, perpetually crushed by impossible metrics and corporate pressure. I was enjoying the heights of my privilege at the annual dinner, standing beside Ruth, while Thomas lurked in the background. He was a miserable face lost among the nameless guests. Consumed by jealousy, he brandished a knife and stabbed me to death right there. I suddenly open my eyes and realize we are both back at this single, pivotal day of Ruth's accident.