Cerita Pendek Reborn & Novel Hypocrisy Face Slapping

When I turn 18, my family suddenly strikes gold. Dad makes a fortune in business. We move into a huge house with a driver and a housekeeper. My younger brother, Vincent Becker, is sent to study in Basmar. After that, he graduates and marries a rich heiress. Their partnership makes our family's business soar. I'm the only one who misses my college entrance exam because of stomach cramps, and my parents marry me off to a lonely man in some rundown countryside. He locks me in a basement and hurts me every single day. I crawl my way back home, half-alive, but my parents only look at me with disgust. "Useless brat! How did you not die out there?" Vincent says that he'll take me out to clear my head. Instead, he shoves me in front of a truck. I'm rushed to the ICU with nearly every bone in my body broken. Right before I die, he leans down in his designer suit and whispers in my ear. "Let me tell you the truth before you die. Our family didn't get rich from business. We got rich because of the hundred-million-dollar lottery ticket you bought. "We cashed it behind your back and never told you." I die full of resentment, and right after my death, they sell my organs for 120 thousand dollars. I open my eyes, and suddenly I'm there again—to the very day I bought the lottery ticket.

As the price of gold soars, my late mother, Eleanor Hutchinson, appears to me in my dream. She tells me she has left a gold bangle on my nightstand. If I wear them, they'll bring me wealth and bless the child I'm carrying. But after I find the bangle, I give it to the rabid dog the neighbors keep locked up. In my previous life, my younger sister, Irene Owens, and I marry two brothers and become pregnant at the same time. During a prenatal checkup, the doctor says Irene's baby appears to have severe birth defects and recommends terminating the pregnancy. She doesn't take it seriously at all. That very day, Mom comes to me in my dream, and I find the gold bangle on my bedside table. After I tell Irene about it, she slips the bangle onto my wrists. She says, "You always say Mom favors me. But after she dies, you're the first person she thinks of and approaches. Just wear them." I do exactly as she says and never take the bangle off. But on the day we give birth, Irene delivers a healthy baby boy with rosy cheeks and a loud, vigorous cry. My baby, however, is born with two sets of reproductive organs. The child isn't breathing the moment it's delivered. Before this, every prenatal exam has shown that my baby is healthy. I realize Irene and the bangle must have something to do with it. The sight of my horribly deformed baby drives me insane. In a fit of rage, I dig up Mom's grave and confront Irene. "Why does Mom keep paving the way for you even after she's dead?" She has me committed to a psychiatric hospital. I waste away in despair until I die. When I open my eyes again, I'm back on the day Mom first appears in my dream.

When Mom gave birth to my baby sister, Jocelyn Hanson, she'd reserved an entire floor of the hospital. The next day, a young, handsome nurse named Mike Sutton kept watching her. He told Mom she needed to rest and insisted on taking Jocelyn next door to feed her. Back then, I didn't know any better, and Mom saw no reason to be suspicious. So she let him take Jocelyn. That same day, Mike vanished with Jocelyn. We never saw either of them again. Mom never forgave herself. She sank into a deep depression and eventually took her own life. Dad couldn't handle what had happened. He left me with Grandma, then took his own life too. Just like that, I lost everyone. I shut myself off from the world, and less than two years later, I fell from a balcony because my nanny wasn't watching me. None of us escaped a tragic end. 18 years later, Mike resurfaced as Jocelyn's adoptive father. He brought her back to the Hanson family, and everything my family had left behind ended up in their hands. Even on his deathbed, he still bragged to anyone who would listen, "I sure didn't raise her for nothing." Then I get a second chance. I'm three years old again, back on the day after Jocelyn was born. Mike pushes open the door and comes in. "Ms. Hanson, it's time to feed the baby. Why don't I take her next door so you can get some rest? Kiddo, how about I take your little sister next door so she can have some milk?" His warm smile makes me shudder. All at once, I remember the pain of losing Mom and Dad in my previous life. I gather my courage and shout, "No! My mom can feed her. We don't need you!"

Before filling out our college preferences, Ethan Barron, our class president and son of the richest man in the country, suddenly claims that he can get everyone in our class into Meridian College. "My parents have donated several buildings to the college. It'll be a piece of cake to get all of you in." Even though most of my classmates have scores that fall well short of Meridian College's admission threshold, they fall for his promise, skip their official applications, and count on Ethan to pull strings and get them into college. In my previous life, I realize Ethan's words can't be trusted, so I immediately urge them to submit their college applications, just in case. I also make a point of calling their parents one by one to warn them. However, this infuriates Ethan. He mocks me for being a penniless nobody who knows nothing about the rules of high society and accuses me of ruining the lives of our classmates. My girlfriend, Sasha Corbin, also berates me for being consumed by jealousy. "You're just jealous that Ethan comes from a wealthy family and can get all of us into Meridian College. So what if your grades are good? You could work your ass off your entire life and still never catch up to what his family has amassed over three generations!" For the sake of our three years as classmates, I choose not to hold it against them. Yet, when I realize right before the deadline that they still haven't submitted their college preferences, I immediately call the cops and expose Ethan's fake identity. Ethan is vilified by everyone and, overwhelmed by despair, jumps into the river to end his life. My classmates claim he got what he deserved and thank me for saving their futures. However, at our class farewell dinner, Sasha poisons my drink. My classmates watch coldly as I writhe in agony. "We may have lost our chance to get into college, but Ethan has lost his life!" When I open my eyes again, I find myself back on the day Ethan claims he can get us into Meridian College through his family connections.

After blowing through 15 million, which was my wedding gift from the Masons, I turned myself in for marriage fraud. That was when the housekeeper's daughter, Hannah Castillo, panicked. On May 5th, Castillo Enterprise and Mason Group were set to unite through marriage. I was meant to be the bride, but instead, I was locked away in a dark storage room. By the time I fought my way to the ceremony, Hannah had already finished the wedding using my identity. I went onstage and said I was the Castillos' real daughter, only to be questioned by everyone in the company. The reason was simple: Hannah had been using my name and status openly inside the company for the past six months. Hannah kicked me to the ground and sneered, "You're the housekeeper's kid! How dare you make a scene!" Before I could pull out any proof, the bodyguards Hannah hired dragged me out and dumped me on the road. A car ran into me, and I died on the spot. When I opened my eyes again, I was back to the day before the wedding.

My sister lied and accused me of cheating right in the middle of the college entrance exam, all to snatch my guaranteed spot in college. My results were voided, and I was banned from taking the exam for life. "I don't want her to stray from the straight and narrow…" My sister cried in front of the cameras, as if she were the victim here. Then, she took the acceptance letter from a famous college that should've been mine. She also stole my boyfriend and told everyone they were an official item. Eventually, she got her happily ever after. Meanwhile, I got into a car crash on my way to the precinct to clear my name and died a horrible death. When I opened my eyes again, I was back in the exam room.

When Princess Adelina returned to the capital from her lands, my younger brother flung his arms wide, planted himself in front of her carriage, and shouted for everyone to hear, "My father says we've got all the troops and supplies we need. Next month, we rise. Once someone else is sitting on the throne, I'll be a prince—and you'll be worth less than our family dog!" The entire Grand Avenue went deathly silent. I scrambled out, forced him to his knees, and pressed his head to the ground until his forehead was raw and bloody, covering for him by claiming he'd lost his mind. The princess's expression softened. When the King heard, he only docked Father a year's pay and let the matter drop. But my brother couldn't bear the shame of being dragged away in front of everyone. That night, he hanged himself, leaving behind nothing but a note written in blood and covered with my name. When Father and my elder sister found out, they had his body thrown out without a proper burial. They praised me for my quick thinking and said I'd saved the family. Even my wife, who had always been cold to me, turned gentle from then on. I never imagined that a year later, when I suddenly fell gravely ill, they would drag me into the family chapel while I was in agony, force me to my knees before my brother's portrait, and break both my legs. Father and my sister watched coldly. "Percival was just a boy trying to show off for the princess, and you drove him to his death! "You didn't really think you saved this family, did you? The Arkwrights have a war record to stand on. Even if His Majesty had heard, he would have laughed it off. Why would he punish us over a joke or two?" My wife wound the same white silk my brother had hanged himself with around my neck, her face like ice. "In your next life, don't be so full of yourself." When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day the princess returned to the capital. My brother ran out laughing. I lowered my head, sipped my tea, and pretended I hadn't seen a thing. I was a disgraceful bastard son who had never once been acknowledged by House Arkwright. So if every last Arkwright went to the block, what did that have to do with me?

My best friend, Kahlan Ellis was invited by an online acquaintance to explore an abandoned school. I told her it was dangerous and urged her not to go. A young woman nearby overheard our conversation, got curious, and went with him instead. Later, the local news blew up with a trending story about how a wealthy heir and a village girl who met during an exploration adventure had fallen in love and lived happily ever after. Around that time, I was preparing to get married. On the night before my wedding, Kahlan pushed me off a high-rise. "If you hadn't stopped me from going back then, I'd have married rich by now! You deserve to die!" It was only then that I realized how much she had resented me all this while for stopping her that day. When I opened my eyes again, I had been reborn to the day she first asked me to go on that exploration. In the parking garage, Kahlan looked at me excitedly and asked, "Patricia, do you think I should go explore that abandoned school with Robert?"

In my previous life, I, Ruth Spencer, fell seriously ill. Because of that, I managed to stop my husband, Zayne Colman, from going on a business trip to the country border. He immediately canceled his flight, pulled me into his arms, and gently comforted me. Over the phone, he gave instructions to my younger sister, Reagan Spencer. "The project comes first. You go in my place." But no one could have known that the so-called business partner was actually a ruthless scam syndicate. Reagan had her organs harvested and was tortured to death. I was devastated. Zayne held my frail body in his arms and hoarsely promised that even though Reagan was gone, he would still love me twice as much. And he kept his promise. For ten years, he never let me suffer at all. In fact, he spoiled me rotten. This went on until the day I gave birth. The pain nearly knocked me unconscious, but Zayne put his hand over the call button to prevent me from summoning help. The words he spoke were laced with malice. "If you hadn't gotten sick at such a convenient time back then, Reagan wouldn't have gone alone! I could have saved her. "It's your fault she's dead! She must feel so lonely down there. You and this bastard child can go keep her company!" That was when I finally realized that our love were nothing but a lie. When I open my eyes again, I am back on the day he is about to leave for that trip to the border. This time, I release them to the path leading to freedom, or, in other words, to hell.

After being reborn, I secretly switch the man I want to marry the most to the useless scion who loves flirting with me that lives next door. My dad, who's a high-ranking military colonel, is quite surprised by my choice, but he respects my wishes. In my past life, when Dad asked who I liked the most in the entire neighborhood, I had written down Damian Conrad's name. He nodded and told me, "This man has contributed greatly to the country despite only joining the army for three years. His future will definitely be a bright one. "A man as just and fair as him will undoubtedly be a good man who takes good care of his family and stays devoted to them." Dad immediately arranged for the two families to meet. Everyone thought that it was a rare and fated union. Our wedding was very grand and high-profile. Most of the people living in the military base came over to celebrate our wedding. But Damian set off for the frontier half a year after our marriage, with the excuse of wanting to contribute to the country. Not only did he leave me behind to take care of my in-laws on my own, but he also cut off all contact with me when Dad was severely ill. When I was finally done dealing with Dad's funeral matters, all I received was the bad news of Damian's death at the frontier. Crushed by the devastation and despair of the news, I fell into severe depression. Soon, I took my own life by jumping off the building. After my death, my soul refused to fade away at all. 40 years later, an elderly man and woman with graying hair showed up before my grave. With an arm around Heidi Myers' waist, Damian paid his respects to me at my grave. "It's my fault for lying to you back then, Carla. But Heidi doesn't have much time to live, so I can resort to desperate measures. Please let everything go and stop pestering her, Carla. If you really are resentful, feel free to come at me instead." It turns out that Damian loved Heidi this much that he was willing to fake his death just to trick me. But at the same time, they were so superstitious that they thought I was the one pestering Heidi, causing her to be afflicted with a terminal cancer. Now that I found out about the truth, I finally let my obsession go. When I open my eyes again, I realize I've returned to the day Dad asks me who I want to marry the most.

I suffered from a skin condition. I scratched myself in the library, and millions of netizens spammed my private inbox. Only then did I find out that a girl accused me of harassing her. I took out my diagnostic report to defend my innocence, but the girl cried pitifully. “You really know how to make an excuse for yourself! How could someone innocent like me frame you?” Even my elder brother spoke up for her! “Why would she frame you of all people? Can’t you take a look at yourself?” I could not bear the cyberbullying, and I died from a sudden heart attack the day before the court hearing. My grandfather could not accept my death, and he collapsed into a coma. My parents cut off ties with my brother before they committed suicide at home. Meanwhile, the girl did not just successfully make her way into graduate school, but she also dug open my grave and used my ashes to make fireworks. When I opened my eyes again, I was back to the day when she had asked me to reserve a seat in the library.

My fiancé, Julian Vance, was the definition of a prince charming—the kind every woman in town would kill for. He was stunning to look at, a devoted lover, and looked at me with eyes so sweet they seemed to drip with honey. Chloe Mercer, my best friend, was a ray of sunshine. Whenever I needed a pick-me-up, she would show up with a strawberry crepe cake—sweet, soft, and comforting. They were the two most important people in my life, my sanctuary, whom I trusted with all my heart. Until the iron doors were welded shut. The screech of rusting metal scraping in the dark sounded like the wailing of damned souls from hell. Gasoline came seeping in through the crack under the door. When the flames roared to life, I heard Julian’s voice. He was standing right outside. Through billows of thick, suffocating smoke, his voice was gentle, caressing. “Hazel... I’m sorry. “Sterling Group’s ten-billion-dollar empire... “Starting today, it would be under the Vance name.” Chloe stood right by his side. The inferno cast a sickening crimson glow across her face. She didn’t utter a word. But the corners of her mouth were curled upward. Her eyes were overflowing with triumph. I choked down one last breath of heavy, toxic smoke. My lungs felt like they were being sliced up under a blade. I died—but did I?

My roommate, a poor student I sponsor, is obsessed with making every first occasion memorable. There is always another milestone to celebrate. At our first college class dinner, he orders ten bottles of expensive imported liquor. When the $150,000 bill arrives, I'm stunned. I ask why he did it without consulting me. He pouts. "I just wanted everyone to have an unforgettable memory. I care too much about making things special. "Please don't be angry, Mr. Fairchild. I'll work my whole life to pay off the debt. I won't drag you into it." Our classmates accuse me of making a scene over nothing. To salvage my reputation, I reluctantly pay the bill. Then a video of him kneeling and begging forgiveness appears on the campus forum. Suddenly, I'm the vicious rich kid who bullies the poor. When I ask him to clear things up, his answer is simple: "That depends on how you behave." From then on, he uses every new "first" as an excuse to make me pay. In just one month, I spend almost $1.5 million on him. It's still not enough. He livestreams an accusation that I've been tormenting him. "Mr. Fairchild says poor students are beneath him! He says we don't deserve to celebrate anything!" The internet turns against me. My university expels me. My family disowns me. I die a miserable death by the roadside. He, meanwhile, convinces my guilt-ridden parents to adopt him and inherits everything that should have been mine. When I open my eyes again, I'm back on the day my roommate suggests the class dinner.

At my daughter's high school graduation party, she greeted me with a bouquet containing her wish list. "My dearest Mom! "My life truly begins at eighteen! "This is the first step toward rebuilding my social image and starting an entirely new life! "Thank you, Mom, for supporting me completely!" The list tucked into the bouquet included the newest phone, tablet, laptop, and earbuds. Together, the smaller items cost more than five thousand dollars. But the final line, printed in bold red letters, stabbed into my eyes like the point of a knife: Helena Abernathy must give Chloe Collins a house free of charge. The property will be for Chloe's exclusive use, and no one else will be permitted inside. I stared at the bouquet, while the soul that had died unjustly in my previous life trembled inside my body. Last time, I carried that bouquet home and tossed and turned all night. In the end, I still tried to discuss it with my daughter. "Chloe, about the house... I truly can't afford it right now." "Could we possibly..." Chloe was silent for three seconds before accusing me through tears. "I knew it! You never loved me. You only love yourself!" My photograph, address, and workplace were posted across social media. Then came the online attacks, the doxxing, the red paint splashed across my door, and the suspension from my job. When I stood on a rooftop, unable to endure the abuse any longer, the people below kept recording and shouting: "Jump! If you aren't guilty, why would you jump?" This time, I looked down at the bouquet in my arms and smiled. I didn't want the list. And I didn't want this daughter anymore.

The first thing I do after being reborn is secretly keeping six stunning male models behind my wealthy husband’s back. I seduce them and sleep with them for 999 days to get myself pregnant. I do all this because in my past life, my husband found out that he had asthenozoospermia and married me because I am known for being fertile. He wants to carry on the family line so that he will have a successor to inherit the family fortune. I try everything I can to get pregnant, but nothing works. Conversely, my infertile best friend gives birth to twins and triplets within two years after marrying a 70-year-old man. When my wealthy husband hears that my best friend is blessed with children, he is immediately captivated. They get together behind my back and even arrange for someone to run me over with a car when I find out the truth. After my death, I discover that my best friend has bound herself to the child switch system. Any child I am impregnated with is transferred into her womb. My best friend's infertility is transferred to me in return. When I open my eyes again, I find myself back on the day when my husband married me and brought me home. I smile happily when I think about all the things that took place in my past life. My best friend wants lots of children, doesn't she? If so, I will make her experience the joy of having 18 babies in one pregnancy!

My roommate is the kind of person who has to get to the bottom of everything and doesn't stop asking questions until she's satisfied. One night, while I'm sound asleep, she suddenly stands by my bed and calls my name, "Melissa, are you asleep?" Having been awakened by her, I shoot her an annoyed glare, but she just says, "See? You weren't really asleep. Otherwise, how could you have answered me?" One day, she decides to skip class. Thinking that I could help by signing her in on my phone, I do just that. However, near the end of the lecture, she suddenly bursts into the room and asks the professor, "I wasn't here today, so why does it show I was marked present? Is the system down?" The professor traces it back to me, fails me on the spot, and makes me retake the class. Later on, I join a speech contest. My roommate stands up in front of everyone and asks why my speech sounded exactly like her ideas. I get disqualified, lose my scholarship, and am labeled a plagiarist. Devastated, I climb onto the rooftop late at night. When I open my eyes again, I'm back to the night when my roommate first asked if I was asleep.

The day I receive my acceptance letter from a top-tier university, I'm over the moon. On my first day of school, I pick up some greens and sauteed chicken from the cafeteria and place them on my tray. A single bite of the greens sends a wave of spiciness straight to my head. I scramble for water, desperately trying to cool the burn. My parents, who tagged along to help me settle in, immediately confront the cafeteria manager. "What is wrong with you people? Students come here from all over the country! Why would you make simple greens devilishly spicy?" The manager looks at us in confusion. "It's just seasoned with a couple of dried chili peppers. It's not spicy at all." Refusing to back down, I drag over a few students nearby to taste it, but everyone says it isn't spicy at all. My parents quickly soothe me, saying it's probably just a regional taste difference, and tell me to eat the pickled olives we brought from home instead. I nod through my tears and scoop a generous portion over my pasta, planning to make do with the meal. To my horror, a huge mouthful of olive pasta hits me with that exact same searing heat! The explosive spice makes my throat swell and constrict at an alarming rate. No amount of water helps, and breathing grows harder by the second. In the end, I suffocate to death. Even as I draw my last breath, I can't wrap my head around it. It's just olive pasta without a speck of chili in sight. How could it possibly be that spicy? When I open my eyes again, I'm back to the first time I sat down with my tray in the cafeteria.

The entire ward could hear the thoughts of the beautiful intern nurse, Sonya Row. When a patient kept vomiting nonstop, and I suggested increasing the pain medication, she stood nearby, sighing. [What should I do? Should I tell the family this painkiller can be addictive and really bad for the body? If they just wait a few more minutes, he'll recover on his own. There's no need to spend money at all.] The room fell silent in an instant. Everyone's gaze shifted toward me, and the family quietly refused my treatment plan. After that, I became the joke of the entire department. Every patient specifically asked not to be assigned to me. Later, while comforting a terminal stomach cancer patient, I followed her family's wishes and lied, saying it was just gastritis. Sonya complained about it in her thoughts. [The patient's practically dying already, but she's still saying she can be cured. It's obviously just to trick this old woman into draining her life savings on treatment.] That night, the old lady jumped off the building so she wouldn't burden her family. Her family thought I had revealed the truth and driven her to her death. They reported me directly to the hospital director, and I was stripped of my position as department head. Then, on a holiday weekend, the hospital admitted a pregnant woman with a suspected amniotic fluid embolism. To save her life, I had no choice but to remove her uterus. At that moment, Sonya's thoughts rang out again. [She doesn't have an amniotic fluid embolism at all. She was on her phone during surgery, which caused this. Now look what happened. This baby's a girl. This family wanted a son, and now they'll never get one.] The family attacked me on the spot, recorded it, and posted the video online to harass me. The desperate husband, obsessed with having a son, stabbed me to death to vent his rage. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day Sonya first revealed her thoughts. This time, I could hear her thoughts, too.

Todd Robyn, the intern, had used some kind of savings-transfer trick on me. No matter how much money I put into my bank account, the balance always turned into fifty dollars. In my previous life, I dreamed of buying a place of my own near the office. At last, I scraped together a five-thousand-dollar down payment. But when I swiped my card, the sales agent told me it had been declined for insufficient funds. I checked my transaction history, confronted the bank, and even went to the police, but everyone treated me like a lunatic. After all, every single purchase on my bank statement was recorded in black and white. But I lived so frugally. I had never made any of those purchases! When I told my coworkers about it, a few of the men took one look at my statement and started mocking me, "Drew's always dropping thousands at some bar in the middle of the night. That's exactly the going rate for an all-night escort!" No matter how hard I tried to explain, no one believed me. I posted the whole story online anonymously. The comments accused me of making things up for attention so I could start selling products. Only one person suggested I keep an eye on the people around me and see whether anyone's spending matched the charges on my statement. So I watched closely, and sure enough, I noticed something about Todd, the new intern in our department. Every time he spent money, the same amount was deducted from my card. Even when he ordered a drink, the charge showed up on my account right away. Once I was sure, I confronted Todd directly. He laughed in my face and said I was a spendthrift who couldn't save a dime and now wanted to pin it on someone else. He said I'd completely lost my mind. He even got our coworkers to help him have me committed to a psychiatric hospital. After two years of torment there, I finally found a chance to escape and threw myself into the river. But when I opened my eyes again, I was back to the day before I was supposed to buy my home.

On the day of the Hunt Festival, I have the healer remove my corneas. In my past life, my fiance's adopted sister, Mandy Wells, steals my Crescent Moon Bow and sneaks three Omega wolves into the royal hunting grounds. Mandy spends the day showing off, right up until one of her arrows pierces the chest of the pregnant Luna. The Luna dies on the spot, along with the heir in her womb. Afterward, the three Omegas claim in unison that I was the one holding the bow. When the enforcers show up at my door with the Crescent Arrow, I desperately try to explain that Mandy fired the shot. Mandy cowers in Connor Parker's arms while weeping like a victim. "Aliya, it's fine if you hate me, but you can't frame me for murder." Connor pulls out a memory crystal right then and there. The person drawing the Crescent Bow in the image has my face. "The evidence is right here! How dare you try to frame someone else?" The enraged pack drags me onto the execution stand. They gouge out my eyes, snap my legs, and burn me alive in the sacred fire. When I open my eyes again, I've returned to the day before the Hunt Festival.