The Butcher Son Is the Family Savior

After passing through the lowest point in his life, the trash son-in-law has risen. After passing through the lowest point in his life, the trash son-in-law has risen.

In my past life, my selfish son stopped caring about my husband and me after marrying a woman who followed her mother's words like they were holy commandments. In fact, he orchestrates an accident to kill my husband and me under the influence of his wife and her family. It's all so he can inherit our fortunes earlier than expected. When I'm reborn, I look at my son, who's rotten to the core, and decide that I don't want him anymore!

To realize my brother’s dream of getting a girlfriend in college, my mother drugged me just before the start of the semester, knocking me out for three straight days. By the time I came to, my brother had taken my spot at an Ivy League school. I bought a train ticket there to expose him as an impostor. However, my mother broke my legs and locked me up in the cellar. She bolted the door to the cellar. “I’ve taught you time and again to put your brother first, but it goes straight over your head. It’s just college. It won’t kill you to let him take your place. “You ought to reflect on your behavior. I’ll let you out once you’ve learned how to be part of the family.” With that, she left to play poker with her friends. For the next ten days, my presence was the last thing on her mind. She didn’t bother to send me food. It wasn’t until the weeds in the field had grown tall enough to need clearing that my mother finally unlatched the cellar door. By then, hunger had already taken me. No longer would I pull those weeds again.

My son, Caleb Yates, is publicly known as the most caring son ever. But I've written a letter just to cut off all ties with him on New Year's Eve. The community workers take turns in trying to mediate the situation. "Your son cares a great deal about you. Since young, he has never caused trouble for you, and he often visits you at home. Whenever he comes back, he makes sure to bring gifts, too. "Are you going senile, Bruce? You already have one foot in the grave, so why are you still cutting off ties with Caleb?" I never waver in my decision. Instead, I snatch up a pole and drive Caleb out of my home. Even though I keep berating and hitting Caleb, he refuses to leave. He then jumps off the fourth floor without hesitation. When I walk past him, Caleb does his best to grasp my pant leg despite still lying in a pool of his own blood. I merely take a step backward. "If you want to die, do it somewhere else." My neighbors can't take it anymore. They claim that I'm a bad father before dragging me to the hospital by force. Once Caleb regains consciousness after undergoing surgery, he keeps apologizing to me even though he has tubes connected to him. I refuse to even spare him another glance. The next day, I sue him at the relationship severance court immediately.

I had two fathers. One was Vincenzo, who was gentle and cultured. The other was Matteo, who was called "Il Diavolo Sanguinario", meaning the bloodthirsty devil, by everyone. Both were men my grandfather, Don Rossi, had chosen for my mother, Sofia. In my last life, my mother had chosen Vincenzo, thinking he was the man she could trust for the rest of her life. But after a woman called Carla came between them, he grew colder toward my mother and me. He took Carla's side and became convinced that my mother had drugged him on purpose and slept with other men. In his eyes, I was a bastard whose father was unknown. After my grandpa passed away, Carla framed my mother repeatedly. Vincenzo would let her get away with it every time. He had even forced my mother to apologize and locked us in the basement, to the point of starving to death in the end! When I opened my eyes again, I was back at my fifth birthday party. My grandpa was still gravely ill, and he was urging my mother to make a choice. "Sofia, whoever you choose will inherit everything in the Rossi family and protect you and Lia in my place." Mom held me in her arms, hesitant to make a decision. I pointed at the man everyone called the Diavolo Sanguinario. "Pick him! Only he can protect us!"

When I was discharged from the psychiatric hospital, my brother and sister-in-law dropped everything to personally pick me up. Even my nephew, who had just finished his college entrance exams, arrived with a box of carrot cake he had waited in line all day to buy. His warm smile was the picture of innocence. “Auntie, congratulations on your discharge. With me here, you’ll never feel lonely again.” To outsiders, we were the perfect family—envied by all and even awarded the title of a local model family. But behind the facade of family bliss lay a very different story. On the very day my brother transferred the last of the family properties to me, I went live on social media. In front of an audience that idolized my so-called perfect family, I boasted about my "accomplishments." I conned my nephew into paying for a spot at an elite school, duped my sister-in-law into stepping into a scandalous club, and tricked my brother into losing everything he had worked for. “My brother has treated me with nothing but kindness. And I can only repay his kindness with betrayal.”