One Fish, Two Fish, Red Fish, Blue Fish

On our wedding anniversary, I ask my husband, Luke Blackburn, to buy me some fish stew. Since I'm in my first trimester, I keep vomiting every now and then due to morning sickness. Right now, I have an intense craving for fish stew. But Luke comes home empty-handed in the middle of the night. He claims that he's completely forgotten about my request. I don't say anything at all. All I notice is a strand of long hair sticking to Luke's collar that doesn't belong to me. Some time later, I see the fish stew I never got to eat in a photo that Luke's colleague, Ruby Pollard, has uploaded to her social media feed. The caption reads, "Luke ordered this dish for me. He knows that I love fish stew from this particular restaurant the most. I'm so touched by his gesture!" In the photo, I see a pair of familiar hands picking out fish bones from the meat tenderly just for Ruby.

At the very moment Phoebe Stanton miscarries, her husband, Connor Russell, is celebrating the return of his first love. To him, her three years of devotion and companionship mean nothing more than being a live-in maid and cook. Phoebe gives up on him and decides to divorce. Everyone in their circle knows that Phoebe is clingy and impossible to shake off. "I bet she'll come crawling in a day." Connor sneers. "A day? That's too long—half a day at most." But the moment Phoebe signs the divorce papers, she decides never to look back. She throws herself into a new life. She revives her career, which she once abandoned, builds new connections, and meets new people. As time goes on, Connor no longer sees even a trace of Phoebe at home. He begins to panic. At an industry summit, he finally spots her, surrounded by admirers. Desperate, he pushes forward. "Phoebe, haven't you had enough of this tantrum?" But Gideon Blackwood suddenly steps in front of her, shoving Connor aside, his very demeanor chilling the air. "Don't touch my woman." Connor has never loved Phoebe. But now that he does, it's already too late. There's no longer a place for him in her world.

My fiancé wants to marry me in a pizzeria. At the same time, he promises to give his true love the rest of his life on a luxurious cruise. Our wedding is only 48 hours away, but I don't want him anymore.

At the wedding, I immediately recognized that the woman under the veil wasn't Selene, but an impostor. But I still went through with the ceremony as if nothing was wrong. In my previous life, Selene had been forced to return and complete the wedding with me after I exposed the fake bride in front of everyone. That very night, however, her childhood sweetheart was rushed to the ICU with acute alcohol poisoning. When Selene heard the news, she didn't shed a tear. Instead, she cursed him, saying he got what he deserved. … After we married, Selene and I appeared to be a loving couple on the surface. I kept funneling money from my family to save her family business from collapse. But on our first anniversary, my wife—with not even a sliver of warmth in her eyes—tied me to a helicopter with her own hands. "If you hadn't forced me to come back and marry you that day, Chase wouldn't have ended up like that," she snarled. "What right do you have to live so happily? I'll make sure you feel the pain he went through before he died." She threw me from ten thousand yards up, and I hit the ground as nothing more than a broken heap of flesh. So, this time, I pretended to know nothing and went through with the wedding alongside the fake bride. I wanted to see just how Selene would manage to save the crumbling Liraine Co. without the Schreiber family's support.

After completing the quest, I insisted on staying in that world, foregoing the lucrative rewards. It was because I had a happy and perfect family there. My brother was a genius world-renowned scientist, and all his research achievements were named after me. My father was the world's richest man, and all his wealth was under my name. My mother was an extraordinarily talented dancer, but she gave up the stage just to spend more time with me. My family pampered me. I was the most envied pampered daughter in the world… until the day their real daughter, Carrie Langford, showed up at our door. Their love for me vanished overnight. From then on, I became inconsequential. Carrie orchestrated her own fall down the stairs, and my mother was so angry that she broke my leg. I ate a small bite of the cake Carrie threw away, so my father locked me in a dog cage for three days to dine with the dogs. He also made a golden cake for Carrie to make her feel better. Just because Carrie complained that her heart hurt, my brother dug out my heart for her and replaced it with an artificial heart. "It's just a heart. You've always been healthy. Carrie needs it more than you do." Calmly, my brother stood to the side, analyzing the data. "Don't worry, artificial heart technology is already very advanced, so the theoretical survival rate is very high. You won't die." After my soul left my body, I saw Carrie casually throw my heart into a trash can. The long-dormant system was awakened. [Would you like to take back everything you've given them, including your father's wealth, your mother's dancing talent, and your brother's intelligence, in exchange for a chance to revive?]

My sister, Anna Hawkins, and I are twins, but I'm slightly heavier than her when we were born. Anna has always been weak and sickly since young, whereas I'm always active and healthy. When Anna was four years old, she was diagnosed with leukemia. Mom blamed me for stealing Anna's nutrients when I got born, so I needed to return the nutrients to her. When I got my blood extracted for the first time, a thick syringe was used on me. I was so scared when I saw it. Mom told me not to be scared. She gave me a magical pen, stating that whatever wish I wrote down with the pen would come true. I wrote, "It won't hurt." When the syringe was plunged into my arm again, Mom bought me a sweet lollipop. The pain never struck me again afterward. When I was five years old, I drew a strawberry cake on the paper while getting 1000cc blood withdrawn from me. That week, Anna could sit up in bed and play on her own. When I turned seven years old, I wrote down my wish that I'd like to go on a vacation. The next day, I was sent into the operating theater for the doctors to collect my hematopoietic cells. For the first time ever, Anna's cheeks became rosy. When I was eight years old, I wrote that I wanted to become the top student of my grade. But a day before my exams, my bone marrow was drawn from me. Anna finally got discharged by the hospital. She got to wear new dresses that I never got to wear. In the year I turn nine years old, my body is heavily depleted. With a trembling hand, I can only write down a line in messy handwriting. "I hope… that I won't become Mom's daughter in my next life."