Where Can I Read 'Facing Death Facing Oneself' For Free?

Three years after I died, my mother sent me twenty dollars for living expenses. Three years before that—the first time I ever asked my family for money—she said to me, offhand, "Sometimes I think you're just putting on an act. What's so unsanitary about a thirty-cent boxed meal? And why can't you wear a five-dollar down jacket? Face it, you're just more high-maintenance than your little brother." Later, when I needed twenty dollars to buy some cheap medicine for my stomachache, she blocked me immediately and cut off all contact—along with every relative we had. "Don't contact me anymore. I'm clearly not a good mother. I can't afford to give my son a life of luxury." But for my younger brother, who had just started high school, she spared no expense—renting him a three-bedroom apartment. Even the family dog got its own room. In the end, on the day my brother became the top scorer in the state, she finally remembered me. She took me off her block list and transferred twenty dollars. "It's only twenty dollars. Was it really worth giving your family the silent treatment for three whole years?" What she never knew was this— On the night my stomach ruptured, three years ago, I had already died. I couldn't afford to go to the hospital. I froze to death in the snow.

Reborn as the long-lost Rogers heir, missing for fifteen years, I avoided every chance to bond with my two brothers in this family. When they tossed me Vivi’s discarded, ill-fitting gown for the family gala, I smiled and put it on. When they sent Vivi to get an elite education while ordering me to scrub the utility room, I picked up the mop without a word. When they let Vivi chase love and dumped her rejected suitor on me, I didn’t fight. I accepted her leftovers with a calm nod. This was all because in my past life, I had spent my entire life desperate for my brothers' approval, only to end up despised by everyone for it. When I died in the crossfire of a gangland shootout, my own son pushed my body away in disgust. "Mom, did you really waste your whole life on such a petty fight with Aunt Vivi? Dying for the family would have been a more dignified end. At least then you wouldn't have disgraced our name." I left this world filled with resentment, only to open my eyes and find myself back at the moment I first set foot in the Rogers estate. This time, I'm done fighting. The power, the name, the honor. I'm letting them have it all. I’ve already been accepted into a closed-door medical project. Soon they will never see me again.

I have been reborn 999 times, all to save my husband from the woman he can never forget. Each time, he hides the truth from me, only to be tricked by her into entering that room destined to go up in flames. He always dies in the fiery explosion. Nearly a thousand lifetimes pass, and I never once complain, even though loving him tears me apart. However, this time, I have made up my mind. I won't save him. This time, I will watch him die with my own eyes.

After my younger brother died, my parents and grandfather all killed themselves. Each of them died in a different way, but they shared one thing in common: Before their deaths, every one of them had read my brother's suicide note. And in that note, there was only a single sentence. Reporters fought for a chance to interview me. The police interrogated me overnight. Countless people wanted to know what that sentence said. But I never told anyone. Until the tenth anniversary of my brother's death, when I saw a figure standing in front of his grave. At that moment, I felt an overwhelming sense of excitement. Because I knew my turn had finally come.

My sister and I are twins, and we both have kidney failure. After a long wait, we finally find two matching kidneys. The doctor is prepared to transplant one for me and one for her. However, she breaks down in tears in my fiancé's arms—she wants both kidneys for herself. When I object, my fiancé locks me up at home. He has my sister undergo surgery to have both kidneys transplanted. "You haven't been sick for as long as your sister has. She just wants to live like a normal person—how can you be so selfish? Can't you wait for the next matching kidney?" He doesn't know that I can't wait any longer, though. I'm going to die soon.

In my previous life, my husband suffered a sudden brain hemorrhage and died instantly in his office. When I arrived at the hospital, all that awaited me was his lifeless body. Overwhelmed with grief, I coughed up blood and was bedridden ever since. On my deathbed, I happened to see a news report—my husband had won a $15 million lottery. Standing beside him at the prize ceremony was none other than my best friend. The shock killed me on the spot. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day my husband had just died.