Short Rebirth Stories & Novels

After being sent back in time, Emma Horten did two things. The first thing she did was abandon her ungrateful husband and son; the second thing she did was set out to rebuild her career.

On the heavy traffic road rushing my father to the hospital due to a cerebral hemorrhage, we ran into my husband, who was directing traffic as a police officer. My mother was about to wind the window down and beg him for help, but I immediately stopped her and decisively turned the steering wheel, taking a narrow side road instead. In my previous life, at this exact situation, after a brief moment of hesitation, my husband had chosen to clear a path for us and personally escorted my father to the hospital. That very night, his childhood sweetheart, out of spite because he hadn't answered her calls, turned on the gas and killed herself. He seemed utterly unaffected by her death. He even organized a welcome-home party for my father when he was discharged from the hospital. But on the day of the party, he poisoned every dish on the table. "It's because of you and your damn father! If it weren't for you, Rosalin wouldn't have killed herself! You're the ones who drove her to death! You should pay for her life!" When I opened my eyes once more, I had returned to the day my father collapsed. This time, my husband answered the phone. Without a second thought, he ran to his childhood sweetheart. Yet, why had he still come to regret it?

I regressed to the day I auctioned for the school idol’s sugar baby agreement after her family went bankrupt. This time, I chose to stand by and watch coldly, rather than saving her… Because after I saved her last time, she was forced to marry me due to the rumors spreading at the auction. For the eight years we were married, she made me keep my distance from her. At the same time, she gave her old flame my company and my assets, even bearing him three children. When Gwen Hughes kicked me out of the house, she sneered at me. “It’s all your fault! You acted holier-than-thou, buying out my contract and spreading rumors so I had no choice but to marry you! If it weren’t for you, Ivan and I wouldn’t have missed each other for all these years!” After that, I died in agony. Now that I had regressed, I would not interfere in their lives again.

The maid's daughter, who grew up in my home, had the nerve to act like an heiress. On her birthday, she invited every kid from school for a full-on rager at my family's villa. When I suggested they take it to a hotel, she lost it. "You don't get to tell me what to do! My friends can party wherever they want!" She added, "The ten-layer cake my parents ordered for me is on the way. Why don't you park yourself by the door and wait for it, huh?" Her crew circled up, laughing and pointing at me. But I'd lived through this before. Nothing about her little act rattled me. I turned to the butler and told him to lock the gate. Then, I went to Rambo's cage. "Hey, buddy," I said, opening it up. "See those trespassers?" I pointed at the crowd. "I'm counting to three. If they're still here, don't let a single one get away."

On my way home from the night shift, a patient who held a grudge against my husband, the hospital director, forced half a bottle of pesticide down my throat. Terrified, I called my husband, Jasper Flint, for help. He rushed over and saved me. I survived by sheer luck. But tragically, his first love, Ruby Gray, died in a car accident on her way home that same night. After Ruby's funeral, Jasper carried on as if nothing had happened. I thought he had finally let her go. But on New Year's Eve, he poisoned our food, tied up my parents and me, and took us hostage. Through tears, I begged him to spare my parents. He killed them right in front of me. Their blood splashed across my face. "If you hadn't been so jealous of Ruby, if you hadn't pretended to drink pesticide just to lure me away, she never would've driven off like that. She'd still be alive!" he snarled. "How does it feel to watch your parents die? When Ruby died, what I felt was a thousand times worse than this! Since you like drinking pesticides so much, go ahead. Drink up!" Jasper forced my mouth open and poured the poison down my throat. I died in agony beside my parents' bodies. And then I opened my eyes—only to find myself reborn alongside Jasper. This time, Jasper chose to save his first love.

When my older sister, Rhea Silverhilt, and I are given a chance to choose our marriage partners for the clan alliance, she rushes ahead and claims the noble fire dragon, Drakon Ragnarok. I am left to match with a brutish wolf, Flint Greyfang. Not long after the wedding, Drakon dies in an unexpected accident. Rhea loses her protector and is vulnerably subjected to scorn and abuse. Meanwhile, the sharp-minded and shrewd Flint reveals a surprising talent for business and swiftly amasses a fortune. Consumed by bitter hatred, Rhea corners me at the grand sacrificial rite and stabs me to death. When I open my eyes again, I am back on the day we are to choose marriage partners. This time, Rhea darts forward and holds Flint's hand. In that instant, I know that she's reborn, just as I am. What she doesn't know is that wolves are innately violent and abusive. They love settling disputes with fists.

I hated my husband most in the moment he died for me, swallowed by the flames. Right before he took his last breath, he tore our marriage certificate in half, his eyes burning red. "If there's another life," he said, "I'd rather we never met." My whole body went rigid. Only then did I understand—he blamed me. Ten years ago, his childhood sweetheart and her family had been exiled. She had begged him for help. But that day, he'd gone with me on a trip and missed the chance to save her. And for ten long years, he held that grudge against me. After my husband's death, the world turned on me. Even my in-laws, who had always cared for me, looked at me with pure disgust. "If not for you, Russ wouldn't be dead. We wish you'd never been born!" I couldn't bear it anymore. I ended my life. I never expected that when I opened my eyes again, I would be back on the day Russ Williams came to propose. This time, I would do exactly as he wished. I would give everyone what they wanted.

On my birthday, my boyfriend ditched his childhood friend's desperate call to be with me. Devastated by his rejection, she spiraled into depression and ended her life. Heartbroken, he proposed to me beside her body. "I've already lost Giselle. I can't lose you, too." I said yes, moved by his grief and sincerity. But on our wedding night, he turned on me, hacking me with a knife. "You vile woman! Giselle died because of you. Time to feel her pain!" As I bled out, the girl waltzed back, saying she'd faked her death to spook him. Overjoyed, he pointed at my corpse. "Thank God, you're alive. This wretched woman is gone, and we're free to be together." They looted my wealth for their lavish wedding and happy life. When my eyes snapped open again, I was back on that fateful birthday.

I burned my painting right in front of the students and university staff. Thunderous applause filled the hall. Everyone thought it was some kind of performance. But my senior in the graduate program panicked. He rushed forward and grabbed my wrist, his voice tight. “Connor, have you gone mad? This is your only shot to prove yourself!” I shook him off, cold. A chance? That was his chance, right? During my past life, he stole the painting I poured my heart and soul into and entered it in the competition ahead of me. The composition, the colors, even my original technique… He copied all of it. He won the Gold Award for the National Youth Art Competition, signed with a top gallery, and basked in glory. Meanwhile, I was branded a shameless plagiarist. The insults and curses overwhelmed me completely. "Get out of the art scene already!" “A plagiarist like you should just die!” His fans stormed my studio, smashed my tools, and broke my right hand. With my world in ruins, I jumped off the studio roof. Opening my eyes again, I realized I had returned to the day my senior accused me of plagiarism.

The tour bus that my mother-in-law, Madison Caldwell, and my son, Samuel Sadler, are on flips over on a mountain road. It hangs from a tree on the cliff, on the verge of falling at any moment. My husband, Jared Sadler, is the leader of the nearest emergency response team. When the police officer calls the emergency hotline, he learns that Jared and his team are at a school event for Jared's first love's son. In my previous life, I asked my friend to drag Jared here to save Madison and Samuel. However, ashamed that her son had lost the competition, Jared's first love cut off all ties with him. On top of that, Jared was also fired from the emergency response team. After Madison and Samuel were discharged from the hospital, Jared tied my friend and me up and threw us off a cliff, shouting, "I lost everything because of you!" In this life, his first love's son wins the competition, but Jared will never laugh again.

Brandon Fenton, a scholarship student my father had been supporting, was drugged one night. After some consideration, I chose to lie beneath him. I had loved him for ten years. Giving myself to him felt like something I had long decided, something I owed to that love. But everything fell apart the moment Melissa Giles, his childhood sweetheart, walked in on us. Before she could even process what she saw, she ran out in a panic and was struck by a passing car, killing her on the spot. Brandon held me afterward, telling me it wasn't my fault. He even proposed to me. Because of that, Dad placed the entire company into his hands. But the day before our wedding, he set his plans in motion. He deliberately caused a car accident that took Dad's life. When I was at my lowest, drowning in grief, Brandon took me deep into the woods. There, he drove his car over my body, crushing me repeatedly just so I could feel the same agony Melissa had suffered before she died. "If you hadn't drugged me, why would I have ever touched you? If not for you, Melissa would still be alive! I hate you. All of you deserve to die!" And then, after the pain reached its unbearable peak... I opened my eyes and found myself back on the very day Brandon was drugged.

The moment my best friend, Patrick York, rushed ahead of me into the convenience store and asked for a lottery ticket with that specific string of numbers, I knew he was in the same boat as me. We were reborn. In the past life, Patrick and I were shortlisted for an interview at a Fortune 500 company, but there was only one opening. The day before the interview, I had a sudden urge to buy a lottery ticket. However, because of that, I missed the interview and Patrick got hired. Surprisingly, I got the winning ticket and won 50 million dollars. After my graduation, I enjoyed an easy life by living off interest from the bank. Meanwhile, despite getting hired, Patrick was paid a low wage and suffered daily abuse from his colleagues. In the end, he took out his frustrations on me by pushing me off the rooftop, killing me on the spot. After my death, my girlfriend, Emily Hayward, committed perjury for his sake. She claimed that after a prolonged period of staying home with nothing to do, I was in a bad mental state and leaped off on my own. The two of them profited off my death and became trending influencers, making it big. When I opened my eyes once more, I realized I was back to the day I purchased the lottery ticket.

After being accepted into Doctors Without Borders, I handed over the position of Chief at the capital’s hospital to Elaine Brown. My best friend frowned at me. "You’re destroying any chance of a future with Jeffrey if you go.” I gave him a faint smile. "I'm just returning him to the woman he's always had in his heart." In my previous life, Jeffrey Carter and I were the infamous bickering couple everyone in our circle knew to avoid. He resented me for refusing to replace Elaine when she applied to join Doctors Without Borders. She later caught an infection and died on the job. I resented him for his hypocrisy. If he loved Elaine so much, why did he agree to my parents' demands to care for me for the rest of our lives? We spent seven years of marriage together, yet the best we ever wished for each other was a miserable death. However, amid the gunfire and chaos on the battlefield, he used his last ounce of strength to shield me completely when his heart was pierced by a bullet. "I've arranged for someone to meet you. Once the sweep ends, run. You must survive!" he whispered, his voice fading. "I'll protect you fully in this life… and in the next, we’ll never meet. "Elaine, I'm doing this for you." However, the bomb dropped from above gave us no chance to escape, and we were both annihilated. When I opened my eyes, I had returned to the eve of our wedding. Jeffrey… In this life, I would fulfill your wish.

Right before graduation, my roommate waved around a job offer from some overseas company. It had a three-day workweek, with a starting salary of $50,000 a month. It sounded too good to be true, so I warned her it might be a scam. When she struck out on other job leads, I asked my dad to get her a position at his company. She scoffed at the eight-hour days and $6,000 monthly salary, calling it slave labor. Then she went live online, falsely accusing my dad of inappropriate advances and pressuring her to bear him a son. When skeptics questioned her, she swore no woman would lie about her honor. The internet erupted, branding my dad a predator. Our company collapsed under the backlash, leaving us drowning in debt. To spare me, my dad jumped from a rooftop to his death. Devastated, I wandered into traffic and was struck by a truck. When I opened my eyes again, I was back to the day Amber got that shady offer.

My husband tells me he's a wanted fugitive. He doesn't want to drag me down with him, so he turns himself in and tells me to marry another. My heart aches for him. I scrimp and save to raise our son while waiting for him to be released from prison. It's only when my hair has gone gray that I learn the truth—I see him holding his true love's hand as they go shopping. They buy luxury products like they cost nothing. Only then do I understand that he pretended to be thrown behind bars to be rid of me and our son. When I open my eyes again, I'm taken back to the day my husband pretended to be a fugitive. I immediately call the police and give them the evidence of his crimes. He likes acting like a fugitive, doesn't he? He can spend the rest of his life behind bars, then.

On my 28th birthday, I announced that I was pregnant. But my husband told everyone that he was sterile. Together with my best friend, they said that this was proof that I cheated on him. I tried defending myself, but in the end, I, along with my baby, died while burning with hate. When I reopened my eyes, I returned to the moment three hours before my death.

On our fifth wedding anniversary, my husband, Damian Pyke, once again left me for his first love. He said, "Taking care of a child alone isn't easy for Waverly. You're both women—can't you show her some understanding?" Not only was I willing to understand Waverly Benson, but I was also ready to step aside entirely so they could raise her child together. So, I packed my bags and applied for an overseas architecture program through my workplace. However, he eventually regretted it, crying and begging me not to go.

The housekeeper’s daughter, Selena Greene, deliberately chose to get married on the same day, at the same hotel as me. When our cars passed each other on the way to our weddings, she rolled down her window and asked to switch my bridal bouquet with hers. My bouquet, however, wasn’t just any bouquet. It was hand-carved from priceless jadeite by my grandfather himself—a one-of-a-kind heirloom and his blessing for my wedding day. “Trish,” she pleaded softly, “please. I’ve sacrificed so much for this wedding. I just want it to be perfect. I’ll give it back to you as soon as we get out of the cars.” My heart softened. Against my better judgment, I handed her my bouquet and took her cheap, plastic flowers instead. However, when we stepped out of our cars, she refused to return it. Worse still, during her ceremony, she tossed my jade bouquet onto the floor, shattering it into countless pieces. That bouquet had been my grandfather’s way of being present at my wedding. It was all I had left of him. Yet, in front of everyone, Selena put on an innocent act and accused me, “Who takes back a bouquet after a switch? A glass bouquet like this is all over online shopping platforms for ten bucks. I’ll just pay you back. Trish, you’ve made my life hard enough on normal days. Do you have to humiliate me on the most important day of my life, too?” Furious, I confronted her, but she ducked behind my fiancé and my brother, wiping at her eyes like the victim. My fiancé immediately went to comfort her, leaving me standing alone at the ceremony, humiliated and ridiculed by everyone. My brother, too, called me cruel and heartless. He cut me off financially and threw me out of the family home. Selena’s husband, having quickly risen to success with the help of powerful backers, unleashed his relentless revenge on the now penniless and alone me. In the dead of winter, hired thugs found me and brutalized me to death. And Selena? She became their princess, adored by all three of them. I sank into darkness, full of rage and regret. However, when I opened my eyes again, I was transported back to the day of the wedding.

My art studio caught fire. I risked my life to pull my boyfriend, Vincent Parcelle, out of the flames. Vincent wanted to rush back inside to save his first love, Tammy Reese, who was trapped inside. But I stopped him. The fire destroyed her face and left her legs amputated. Unable to face her disfigurement and disability, Tammy took her own life by overdosing on pills. Afterward, Vincent and I moved forward and got married. On our wedding night, he slit my throat without thinking twice. "If it weren't for you, Tammy wouldn't be dead. Go to hell and pay for your sins!" Only after dying did I realize—Vincent had hated me to the core ever since the fire. For some reason, I was reborn. Grateful that the heavens had given me another chance at life, I ran without looking back this time. To hell with love. I was determined to survive.

Within the circle, everyone knew I had been Leo’s most devoted, submissive admirer. For thirteen years, I chased him relentlessly, transforming myself from an uneducated, middle-school-dropout, illegitimate child of a wealthy family into an Ivy League economics master’s graduate. Only then did his mother finally acknowledge me, and I became Mrs. Smith. However, after the wedding, I no longer meddled in Leo’s company, cooked, or served him. While he stayed up late planning strategies for his first love, I traveled the world with friends. He would accompany her to Paris fashion shows, and I celebrated my cat’s birthday at home. I understood that a commercial marriage could never produce love. Everything I had poured my heart into was just my own foolish obsession. In my past life, I handled his company’s internal conflicts for him. Yet, he frowned, scolding, “You’re reaching too far.” I cooked soups for his stomach ailments, only to see him hand them off to his overworked first love, brushing it off, “She works harder than I do.” Even on the day I had a car accident, he lit fireworks across the city just to see her smile. I begged him, but he looked down at me from above. “Nicole, what we have is only a transaction.” Then, I opened my eyes and found myself back at our engagement banquet, watching him leave midway to comfort his heartbroken first love. This time, I did not chase after him. Instead, I picked up the microphone and said before all the guests. “Sorry, everyone. My engagement with Leo is canceled.”