Why Does 'The Mimicking Of Known Successes' Have Mixed Reviews?

I was a street performer with no name, a ghost hired to wear a dead man’s skin. My mission was simple: Become Alexander Blackwood. Marry his icy fiancée. Sign over the forty-billion-dollar empire. In exchange, my dying sister lives. But the woman waiting at the altar isn't the socialite I was trained to seduce. She’s a wolf in silk—a twin who murdered her own sister to take her place. She doesn't want my money; she wants my soul. She knows I’m a fraud, and I know she’s a killer. In the gilded halls of the Blackwood estate, we are two monsters playing house, waiting for the first one to blink. Every night is a battlefield. Every kiss is a betrayal. She pins me to the silk sheets with the cruelty of a Queen, but when she whispers my real name in the dark, the mask slips. I was supposed to be her puppet, but I’m becoming her obsession. And as the real killers close in, I realize the only thing more dangerous than the lie we're living... is the heat of the truth. He’s a fake heir. She’s a replacement bride. In a world of silver spoons and sharpened knives, love is the deadliest sin of all.

My grandfather is a nationally renowned inheritor of an intangible cultural heritage. Today, I'm supposed to attend a grand ceremony as his rightful successor. However, when I arrive, I see my father's adoptive daughter already standing on the stage. She's dressed to the nines. She holds an award and is giving a thank-you speech, looking moved. In the past, I would've left without saying anything or speaking up for myself. Too bad for her that I'd been reborn. The discrepancy between our statuses is so large that we're basically from different worlds. Yet she has the nerve to claim to be my grandfather's successor and put on a show with what is supposed to be my family's.

While waiting for my sons, Mason and Cayden Cox, to get out of school, I come across a post online. The poster asks, "What's the proudest thing you've ever done?" Some people in the comments talk about their happy families, while others mention achieving financial freedom. However, the top comment stands out for all the wrong reasons. "My proudest achievement? My childhood friend's wife had twins, and one of them is mine! That poor idiot has been raising my son for me all these years." Everyone's confused. "How could twins possibly have different fathers?" He responds, "Let's just say the timing lined up perfectly… You can figure out the rest. Now that the boy looks more like me every day, I couldn't be happier!" My breath hitches in my throat.

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My roommate had a peculiar knack for pestering everyone into liking her posts on social media, all so she could collect enough likes to claim some prize or another. It was her way of life—nagging, nudging, and guilting us into clicking that little thumbs-up. One time, the campus beauty queen liked my roommate's ad for a facial mask. Not long after, she was in a horrific car accident. The vehicle caught fire, and her face suffered severe burns, leaving her disfigured beyond recognition. Meanwhile, my roommate seemed to undergo a miraculous transformation, her complexion turning porcelain fair and flawless as though she'd been kissed by the heavens. Then there was the academic prodigy, a shoe-in for graduate school, who liked her tutoring service post. Shortly after, he was exposed for academic fraud, and his once-brilliant reputation was reduced to ashes. Strangely enough, my roommate's research paper suddenly won an award, catapulting her to fame and fortune. And me? I fell into her trap too. I liked her rental agency ad, and before I knew it, my world crumbled. A scandal erupted, revealing that I was the result of a mix-up at birth. It turned out she was the long-lost child of wealth and privilege—a hidden gem cast into the rough, now reclaimed by her rightful family. As for me, I was packed off to the countryside village she had escaped from and forced into a brutal marriage with an old man. My life became a living hell, and eventually, I died there, broken and forgotten. But fate wasn't done with me yet. When I opened my eyes again, I found myself back on the day my roommate begged me to like her post in exchange for yet another prize.

After I dropped out of school, my parents didn't pressure me to do anything. But Nicole Hicks kept calling nonstop. She was my boyfriend's childhood friend who had established a reputation as a genius. I was too busy helping out in the fields, growing vegetables, and splashing around in the creek, living my best carefree life. Writing code wasn't even on my mind. In my past life, she had turned in a project just one day before I did. Her codes were exactly the same as mine. Everyone called me a fraud and said I had stolen it. I tried to explain, but no one believed me. Later, she even did a livestream, accusing me online of being a school bully. People went wild. They didn't just come for me—they went after my whole family. Some obsessed troll chased my parents in a car, and they died in a crash. I couldn't take it anymore. I jumped off a high-rise, my eyes still wide open, refusing to accept the way it all ended. Even in my last moment, I couldn't figure it out. That code was mine. My hard work. So how did she manage to post it before me? When I opened my eyes again, I was back, right before everything fell apart.