Short Rebirth Stories & Novels

After being reborn, I quietly cut all ties with my husband, Nathaniel Cole. I go to work alone. I watch movies alone. Even when I cook, I only make enough for one. All because in my last life, I had married him only to be neglected for 40 years. At the very end, he coldly pulled the oxygen tube from me, spitting out words filled with hatred. "If I had a choice, I never would've married you!" I died in pain, filled with resentment. When I open my eyes again, my mother is speaking to me and my sister. "According to the marriage agreement, one of you has to marry Nathaniel. Which one of you will it be?" I'm just about to refuse when my sister, Catherine Brown, steps forward. She shoots me a contemptuous glance and says, "Mom, I'll marry him."

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.

After my death, my parents sign an organ donor consent form on my behalf. They have my corneas removed and transplanted onto their beloved adoptive daughter, Grace Lane. She later marries my brother, and they become a true family. Grace and I competed over everything in life, yet I ended up dying with nothing. Now that I've been given a chance to start over, I decide to live life without them. Surprisingly, I find myself getting a happy ending.

I am heading to my job interview when my close friend, Thomas Lang—the same guy who always cautions me about meddling in other people's business—suddenly throws caution to the wind and sprints toward the wrecked limousine. I instantly realize that Thomas has been reborn, too. In my past life, Thomas and I were the top two graduates of the finance department, both making it to the final round of interviews at a Fortune 500 conglomerate. Yet, on the day of the interview, we suddenly came across the CEO, Ruth Gibson, who had just gotten involved in a car crash. I abandoned the interview to save her, while Thomas hurried off to the interview. In the end, Thomas landed the offer, while I lost my shot at working at the top conglomerate. I received sympathy from everyone around me. However, Ruth sought me out eventually, and in the spirit of profound gratitude, she presented me with an immediate proposal of marriage. I became the man who would marry Thomas' superior, achieving incredible status overnight. Meanwhile, Thomas stayed an ordinary worker, perpetually crushed by impossible metrics and corporate pressure. I was enjoying the heights of my privilege at the annual dinner, standing beside Ruth, while Thomas lurked in the background. He was a miserable face lost among the nameless guests. Consumed by jealousy, he brandished a knife and stabbed me to death right there. I suddenly open my eyes and realize we are both back at this single, pivotal day of Ruth's accident.

My widowed mother-in-law has an affair with a married man. Whenever she goes out to meet him, she uses me as an excuse and says I need her to run errands. Slowly but surely, my husband, William Sanders, thinks of me as a cruel daughter-in-law who orders her mother-in-law around. One day, my mother-in-law gets pregnant. She secretly uses my name when getting a checkup at the gynecology department and even wants to play the child off as mine and William's. Her lover's wife mistakes me for his mistress and strips me in public before beating me to death. When I open my eyes again, I'm back to the day when my mother-in-law's lover's wife finds out about her going to the gynecology department under my name. This time, I'm calm as I tell the woman what to do. "Let's get to the bottom of this. Let's ask the doctor who the actual patient was!"

After being married to Nathan Baldwin for five years, news of him making a home for a young woman in a hotel gets out. The whole world knows of her existence. He doesn't want her to be known as a mistress, so he comes to me with a divorce agreement. "Mr. Price helped me in the past. He asked me to take care of Jenny before his death. I can't not do anything now that everyone thinks she's a homewrecker." I'm not surprised—Jenny Price has always been his first choice for the past five years. When Nathan came to me about this in my past life, I broke down and had a screaming match with him. I refused to get a divorce. Even after I became severely depressed, he doggedly believed I was merely putting on an act because Jenny said I didn't look like I was sick. He thought I was pulling tricks to avoid the divorce and lured me into a trap. He made it seem like I was the one having an extramarital affair. Then, he took me to court to have the divorce enforced. Only then did I understand that I would never compare to the debt he thought he owed Jenny's father. I took my life in a moment of despair. When I open my eyes again, I don't hesitate to sign the divorce agreement.

I died giving birth. I gave George Norris ten children in seven years and died with my last child during childbirth. Everyone said I was unlucky, but no one knew that I saw the comments on the screen as I was dying. [The cannon fodder is pretty pitiful. Now the female lead gets ten healthy babies for free.] [The female lead is so clever. She likes children but doesn't want to give birth to any for the male lead, so she added fertility pills in the cannon fodder's food.] [Tsk, tsk, tsk, the cannon fodder probably won't even know she gave birth to the male lead and female lead's children.] The comments made me so angry that I dropped dead right then and there. When I opened my eyes again, I found myself back, right after I had married George. [Tsk, the female lead is so ruthless; she added three fertility pills to the chicken soup.] [Is the female lead not afraid that the cannon fodder will give birth to triplets and die on the operating table?] Watching the chicken soup Cheryl York handed me, I grinned, grabbed her mouth, and poured the soup down her throat. If she liked having children so much, she could have as many as she wanted!

In order to find clean water for his beloved Liana Hughes to bathe, Castiel Fenton, my brother, left the base with all the able-bodied men. But among the zombies, a sentient Zombie King emerged and took it as an opportunity to invade the base. June Morgan, my pregnant sister-in-law, was torn in half by zombies while protecting me, and Poppy, my little niece was devoured down to the bone trying to help me escape. To save the base, I called Castiel for help. Upon hearing the news, he had no choice but to abandon Liana and rush back with his men. Eventually, the zombies were driven out of the base, but Liana was eaten by a passing zombie. Castiel said nothing and only collected Liana’s remains expressionlessly. On the day of Liana’s funeral, Castiel deliberately pushed me into a horde of zombies and let them feast on my body. “If you hadn’t called me back, Liana wouldn’t have died! You must pay for her life!” When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day the zombies invaded the base.

When my husband Jason Carter’s first love, Renee Lynn, showed up at our doorstep heavily pregnant in my past life, I still refused to divorce him. She was soon accidentally pushed down the stairs by debt collectors, killing both her and the baby. Ever since then, Jason hated me to the core. Not only did he cheat and keep a mistress, but he also conspired with her violent, mentally unstable brother to kill me. Before I took my last breath, he sneered, “You owe Renee a life. It’s time to pay up.” Fine. I must have been blind. After my reincarnation, I decisively signed the divorce papers, abandoned my savior complex, and stopped meddling in others’ fates. If he wanted to be a pathetic simp, I would let him be.

My husband falls for my cousin at first sight while still married to me. They conspire to make me fall from grace. I end up with a ruined reputation and family. I can't handle the devastation, so I decide to drag them to hell with me as we're on the way to get the divorce finalized. Unexpectedly, all three of us are reborn. As soon as we open our eyes, my husband asks me for a divorce so he can be with my cousin. They immediately get together and leave the country. Meanwhile, I remain and further my medical studies. I work diligently. Six years later, my ex-husband has turned into an internationally renowned artist, thanks to my cousin's help. Each of his paintings sells for astronomical prices, and he's lauded by many. On the other hand, I'm still working at the hospital and saving lives. A family gathering brings us three back together. It looks like life has treated him well as he holds my cousin close and mocks me contemptuously. However, he flies off the handle when he learns I'm about to marry someone else. "How can you get together with someone else when all I did was make a dumb mistake?"

Gilbert Pierce, my wife's male trainee, bragged that he could disarm a bomb just by relying on his senses and with his eyes closed. However, he misjudged it and triggered the bomb's secondary detonation sequence. I stepped in at the last second and used the most dangerous method available, liquid nitrogen flash cooling, to save the entire building. Gilbert was pulled off frontline duty and placed on suspension for review. My wife, Jasmine Clem, tried to speak up for him, but I stopped her cold. "If you defend him now, you won't save him. You'll just get dragged down and suspended alongside him." Unable to handle the pressure, Gilbert blew himself up in an accident. In his suicide note, he accused Jasmine of choosing self-preservation when he needed her most. Jasmine said nothing. She only locked that letter away in her study. Years later, Jasmine became a nationally renowned bomb disposal expert. During a terrorist attack, I was captured and strapped with a timed explosive. Jasmine came to the scene personally to defuse it, but right in front of me, she repeated the exact same mistake her trainee had made years ago. She watched the countdown and smiled lightly at me. "See? He was just nervous back then. If I had encouraged him, he'd be a hero now." The bomb detonated, and I was blown apart. When I opened my eyes again, I was back at the moment she was about to defend Gilbert. She didn't know that inside that building sat the nation's most classified core servers.

I, Cassandra Channing, don't stop my fiance, Hades Emerson, from rushing into the flames to save his non-biological niece, Olivia Emerson, this time. Instead, I watch as the fire swallows him whole. In my past life, a fire broke out at the hotel on our wedding day. Hades and I escaped in time, but Olivia was trapped inside. Seeing the flames grow bigger, I did everything I could to stop him from charging in to save her. When the fire was finally extinguished, Olivia was dead. Hades claimed he didn't blame me for the incident, and purchased diving tickets for me and our son on our third wedding anniversary. When we were 300 feet below sea level, he ripped out our oxygen tank and snarled, "You're the reason I couldn't save Olivia back then. Now, a life for a life." Crying, I begged him to understand that our son is innocent, but he swam away without looking back. In the end, my son and I suffocated to death. After dying, I learned that Hades had always been in love with Olivia. He hated me for stopping him from saving her. He blamed me for causing him to lose the love of his life. I am back on the day of the fire when I open my eyes again.

My boyfriend, Sam Gibson, had a childhood best friend named Tina Lincoln. She was a star medical student. On the day Sam and I were supposed to get our marriage license, Tina took one look at the tight top I was wearing and flat-out claimed I had been sleeping around for years. She pointed at my chest with obvious disgust. “If men hadn’t been all over you, there’s no way your breasts would be this big.” Sam believed her completely. He started cursing at me, calling me a slut who had sleep with anyone, and refused to go through with the marriage license. I tried over and over to explain, but Tina just sneered at me. “People may be more open-minded these days, but that doesn’t mean you can sell your body and make your chest that big.” She used me as some kind of “example,” started a livestream to lecture people online, and exposed all my personal information. After that, strangers kept sending me disgusting, harassing messages, asking how much I charged for a night. Some even followed me and tried to force themselves on me. I begged her to clear things up for me, but she just shrugged and said, “If you never did that kind of thing, why would people be asking you?” In the end, I was assaulted and killed. And she went on to become a nationally famous influencer doctor, gaining fame and money at the same time. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day I was supposed to get my marriage license with Sam.

When I went to buy a new house, all I found was crumpled newspaper where my savings should've been. I almost called the cops—until I found out Tony Jarrett, my own husband, had blown seven years of my hard-earned cash on a shiny new motorcycle. For Pauline Schmidt. His ex. I asked why. He just shrugged. "She's a single mom. Life's tough. This way, she won't have to walk so much." I wanted to scream, but I swallowed it down. Made him at least get an IOU from her. While I was busy sourcing stuff for the factory, a flood warning hit our town. And Tony? Out buying toy cars with Pauline and her kid. Our son was home alone, trying to stay above water. I was back. Like life hit rewind and dropped me into that exact day. The day he gave her the motorcycle. I saw them—laughing, tight, like their own little picture-perfect family. But I didn't cry this time. Didn't beg. Just turned and walked off.

My dad’s crush came back, and my mom decided to fake her death. “Jane, I’m the main character of a tragic story. If I don’t fake my death now, I’ll end up miserable. “Go tell your dad that Quiana killed me.” In my past life, I had done exactly as she said. My dad had flown into a rage and destroyed the Sullivan family. After that, my mom returned to the land of the living. I thought our family would finally be whole again. Instead, she clung to Dad and cried. “I gave Jane my contact information. How could she say I was dead?” To punish me, my dad locked me in a cold storage room. My mom shot me a cold look. “That’s what you get for calling that woman pretty.” In the cold storage room, at −58°F, I froze to death. When I opened my eyes again, my mom had already faked her death and ran off with her devoted admirer. I looked at my dad and asked with an innocent expression, “Dad, what does eloping mean?”

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?

My son accidentally ate peanuts and suffered a severe allergic reaction. I threw away all the anti-allergy medication in the house and even hung up when he called 911 for help. I watched helplessly as his airway swelled shut and he suffocated to death. In my previous life, when my son struggled to breathe, I immediately drove him to the hospital. After an intense rescue effort, he survived, and I finally breathed a sigh of relief. However, my mother-in-law stormed in, furious, accusing me of being a monster and blaming me for nearly killing him. I hurried to explain that he was fine. Yet, when I presented the doctor's report and discharge paperwork, I was horrified to discover that they had turned into a death certificate. My son, who had been resting safely in the ICU, was gone. He had somehow appeared in the morgue. Refusing to accept it, I checked the surveillance footage. However, the footage clearly showed that my son never left the operating room. Instead, it was just me, talking to myself the entire time. I had no idea what was happening. No one believed me. They locked me in a psychiatric hospital. In the end, as my condition worsened, a swarm of frenzied patients attacked me and tore me apart alive.

At the family tea-tasting event, I openly admit that I am terrible at it. I also announce that I am cutting ties with the White family and giving up my inheritance rights. My father trembles with anger and points at me while furiously questioning, "Are you out of your mind?" My fiance, Liam Ford, holds the fake heiress, Laura White, in his arms. He snaps, "Juliana White, if you can't handle losing, then don't agree to compete in the first place. The way you are acting now is an embarrassment to my family and me!" Only I know that I am not crazy. In my previous life, at this very tea-tasting event that determined who got the right to the inheritance, they joined hands to drag me down in the most humiliating way. Laura beat me and uttered every tasting note I came up with first. Again and again, I try to prove myself, only to be refuted by her each time. She became the celebrated tea prodigy, while I turned into a laughingstock who made a fool of herself. In the end, I suffer a mental breakdown and run out of the house, only to be hit and killed by one of Laura's fans. No one bothered to claim and bury my corpse. When I open my eyes again, I am back at my first family tea-tasting event after being brought back to the White family.

My wife, Wendy, faked her death and took her younger sister’s identity, and I pretended not to know. I removed her from the position of general manager at the company and went to the police station to cancel her identity registration. In my past life, Wendy’s younger sister, Stacy, died in a car accident. Wendy chose to live as her, only because she could not bear to let Eric, her sister’s husband, become a widower. I confronted Wendy and demanded to know why she was impersonating her sister, but she refused to admit anything. “I understand that losing Wendy hurts, but you cannot treat me as if I’m her just because she is gone.” After that, Wendy spread rumors everywhere, saying I had lost my mind. She claimed that my wife had just died and I was already harboring improper thoughts toward her younger sister. In a short time, I suffered an unprecedented wave of online harassment. In the end, an overzealous netizen stabbed me to death in an alley. When I opened my eyes again, I had returned to the day Wendy was preparing to take her sister’s identity.

I stand before the judges at the jewelry design competition and admit to plagiarism. Then, I announce my withdrawal from the contest, along with my resignation as Design Director of Fairchild Group. My fiance, Caleb Fairchild, shoots daggers at me. "If you walk away from this competition, our engagement is off!" My father follows up by slapping me across the face. "First, you plagiarize your own sister, and now you're breaking off your engagement with the Fairchilds? Are you trying to ruin our family?" "Oh, I'm not just calling off my engagement. I'm also cutting off my ties with you," I respond apathetically. I make this decision because I have been given a second life. In my previous life, my stepsister and I competed in this contest. First place earns the title of the nation's top jewelry designer and 50 million dollars from Fairchild Group. However, round after round, her designs are exactly the same as mine, and she submits them before I do. The judging panel gives me a pass because of Caleb and lets me advance to the finals, but not without a warning to never plagiarize again. I refuse to believe it. I switch to a brand-new computer, lock myself in my room, and pour everything into a new design. Yet, when the final designs appear on the big screen, history repeats itself. In the end, my sister takes first place and walks away with everything that should have been mine. The reputation I painstakingly built is ruined, and my name is dragged through the mud online. My parents are ashamed of me. They knock me out and sell me off to the countryside to marry an old man. Ultimately, I die after endless abuse. When I open my eyes again, I'm back at the semifinals. Everyone is pointing at me as they stare at the two identical designs.