Mind Reading Short Stories & Novels

On the day I received my wife's prenatal checkup report, I suddenly heard the inner voice of the unborn baby in her belly. 'Daddy, Mommy is going to divorce you right after she gives birth to me! 'Since her first love is infertile, Mommy wants to give birth to a son so she can run away and live happily ever after with him!' Believing this without a shadow of a doubt, I resolutely chose to get a divorce. However, after the divorce, my health rapidly deteriorated day by day, and I was eventually diagnosed with terminal cancer. While undergoing chemotherapy at the hospital, I crossed paths with my ex-wife. Once again, I heard the voice of the baby still in her womb. 'Haha! In truth, Mommy never cheated on you at all! I lied to you!' Why did the baby lie? I couldn't understand it even up to the moment of my death. When I opened my eyes again, I had returned to the exact day my wife's prenatal checkup report came out.

The day I give birth, I hear my newborn daughter, Kayla Green's voice. "Mommy, Daddy is going to see Ms. Knightley today." Christian Green is standing beside my hospital bed when his phone lights up. A new text message flashes across the screen. The sender's name is Summer Knightley. His thumb hovers over her name for several long seconds before he quietly turns the phone over, hiding the screen from view. "Mari, something urgent came up at the office. I have to go." "He's lying." Kayla's voice doesn't come from the tiny bundle in my arms, but it echoes directly inside my mind. "It's not work, Mommy. He's going to see Ms. Knightley. Her flight lands in two hours. Next month, he'll start transferring all of his assets. The apartment, the savings, the cars. He won't leave us a single thing. "A year from now, you and I will be discarded with nothing." I pick up my phone. "Alistair, I need you to investigate two people—Christian Green and Summer Knightley. I want everything on them."

I'm about to buy a house before getting married. With my budget in mind, the real estate agent recommends a run-down apartment in a 30-year-old building. My girlfriend explodes on the spot, saying that the real estate agent is looking down on us. Her friends all live in high-end apartments. She threatens to break up with me if I buy a run-down apartment for us to live in after we get married. I'm about to defuse the situation and suggest we check out other places when an old, raspy voice echoes in my mind. "This young woman can't tell treasure from trash. I've got 110 pounds of gold in these walls. That's enough to buy a few high-end apartments! "A fortune is right in front of you, and you're letting it slip away. You deserve to be poor forever!"

Father is a seven-tailed white fox, and Mother is a five-tailed flame fox. By all logic, with those two rolling the genetic dice, the worst child they could get should be a six-tailed fox. But Mother has given birth nine times, and each baby is a single-tailed earth fox. The two of them think their cultivation simply isn't strong enough, so they train even harder. The truth is, every child Mother has given birth to is a nine-tailed fox. It's just that Father's subordinate, Oscar Brown, switches them at birth and strangles them to death. I'm the unlucky idiot who's died nine times. By the tenth time, I cry and scream that I'm done. The Heavenly Way is so sick of me kicking up a fuss that they say they'll help me solve the problem. I expect them to just strike Oscar and those fox cubs with divine lightning. Instead, they grant Father the ability to perfectly comprehend baby language. When I open my eyes again, Mother is crying to Father while holding a scrawny, dark-furred earth fox. "Darling, it's all my fault. Our child only has one tail again." Meanwhile, Oscar has hidden me in his sleeve. He's about to take me away to be disposed of. In my panic, I shout in my mind, [Father, save me! Your subordinate switched me! I'm in his sleeve!] Father, who is gently comforting Mother, freezes. He looks toward Oscar, who looks shifty, and says, "Stop right there. What's that in your sleeve?"

I am a real estate agent. For the past three years, I have been the top seller in the industry. It is not because I am a smooth talker; it is because I can hear houses speak. The houses will chatter about a hollow wall, a leaking pipe, or a window with a bad seal. During move-out inspections, I point out exactly what tenants try to hide. When showing a place to renters, I warn them about hidden red flags. I have been doing this so long that both sides treat me like family. Then, one Friday, a regular client, Eleanor Wilson, shows up. "Devan, the tenants at the Eastmere place are moving out." Eleanor is in her 60s. Her husband is long gone, and she lives off the rental income. She is a sweet soul. She charges 20% below market rate and even makes cookies for her tenants during the holidays. The couple moving out this time is Henry Johnson and his wife. They run a fruit stand at the local market and have a six-year-old daughter, Lea Johnson. "Lea is missing," Eleanor says, her eyes welling with tears. "She vanished outside the market last month. Just like that, in the blink of an eye. Henry and his wife have been searching for a month. They're worn out and broke. They just can't take it anymore." A heaviness settles in my chest at her words. I grab the keys and head out with her. Eleanor gasps for air with every flight of stairs we climb. I walk ahead of her. The moment I slide the key into the lock of Apartment 602, the doorknob vibrates violently against my palm. A second later, I dial 911. "I want to report a case of murder. There's a hidden body on the sixth floor of 18 Montclair Heights, Eastmere. The victim is their daughter."

My best friend, Summer Cortez, is a self-proclaimed independent woman who constantly talks about how much she hates men. Some time ago, she showed up with a heavily pregnant belly and claimed that she'd undergone IVF overseas because she wanted to be a single mother by choice. Today's the day she's discharged from the postpartum retreat. My boyfriend, Adrian Haynes, fusses over her every step of the way, even stocking up on the most expensive baby diapers in advance. He wipes the sweat from his forehead, trying to appease me. "Summer's had it tough. As your boyfriend, it's only right that I help to take care of your best friend." Summer reclines against the headboard, a haughty expression on her face. "If it weren't for Sylvia's sake, I'd never have let a stinking man lay a finger on my baby." I simply smile in return. I'm just about to hand her the generous gift I've prepared for the baby, Noah Cortez's one-month celebration, when Noah blows a raspberry and lets out a tiny coo in the cradle. To everyone else, it's just meaningless baby babble. But to my ears, which had just undergone surgery after a car accident, it turns into a childish voice of complaint. [Daddy's such a good actor. Just last night, he was hugging and kissing Mommy in the bathroom.] The smile on my face instantly freezes. I look up at Adrian, only to find him staring at Summer with unmistakable affection. A cold laugh escapes my lips as I slip the check back into my bag. "On second thought, I had Adrian buy the gifts. Since you're so repulsed by men, I'm sure you wouldn't accept gifts that have been bought by one."

Six months into my pregnancy, I heard my baby's cry for help. 'Mommy, save me. Please, do the C-section early. I have a congenital breathing condition. If you don't get me out now, I'll suffocate.' I listened to my baby's desperate pleading, gritted my teeth, and agreed to an early cesarean. In the end, my daughter and I both died. Right before I went, I heard the doctor say, with real regret, that the baby had been perfectly healthy. There'd been nothing wrong with her at all. When I opened my eyes again, I was pregnant once more, and once again I heard my baby crying for help. Only this time, another voice answered—soft and sweet, like a much younger child. 'Mommy, don't believe that voice. They want you to deliver early so they can give my umbilical cord blood to his illegitimate son. That boy has a blood disease, and without cord blood this month, he'll die. That's the only reason that lowlife husband of yours is so desperate to rush you into labor.'

After toiling in the underworld for three hundred years, I finally earned enough merit to be reincarnated. Then the King of Hell got drunk. Instead of sending me back as a human, he accidentally dropped me into the animal realm, where I was reborn as a plump orange cat belonging to the Sterlings, one of the wealthiest families in Evermont. Feeling guilty, the King of Hell compensated me with a hundred-year lifespan and one bizarre bonus: I could understand babies. Since I was stuck there anyway, I embraced the easy life, growing up alongside Victoria Sterling, the Sterlings' spoiled young heiress. Over the years, she became my devoted meal ticket, and I became an irreplaceable member of her family. On the day she gave birth, I lounged outside the delivery room, happily crunching on my imported freeze-dried treats. A panicked baby voice suddenly echoed in my head. [Waaah! I don't want them to take me away! My scumbag father is swapping me with his illegitimate daughter!] [I don't want to end up in an orphanage! I don't want to leave Mommy!] Before I could process that, another baby's voice rang out sinisterly. [Once I become the real heiress, the first thing I'll do is poison that woman and that fat cat.] I froze mid-bite. Every hair on my body stood on end. [Meow. You really picked the wrong cat to mess with.] [Anyone who dares lay a finger on the girl I raised is about to learn a very painful lesson.] With one powerful kick of my hind legs, I launched myself like a furry cannonball straight toward the delivery room.

Hayes Carter could hear my system. The system said, "Host, your affection is maxed out. Do you wish to return to reality?" After hearing that, his expression turned grim immediately. However, he did not hear my choked reply, "I won't leave. I want him." Thus, he left me on our wedding day and fed the ancient snow lily to his junior, Tessa Laughlin, who had just scraped her skin. He thought that as long as he lowered my affection for him and made my mission fail, I would never be able to leave him. It was why he allowed Tessa to destroy my mystical talent. Even on the day Tessa was meant to go through her trial, he allowed her to shatter my Soulsword. She stepped on my broken sword, laughing innocently. "Luna Williams, Hayes can't bear to see me in pain, so I could only use you to shield me." Hayes used Immortal Shackles to bind me tightly to the Lightning Pillar. A barrage of lightning struck, and I collapsed onto the Immortal Execution Platform, covered in blood. The system rang again. "Your affection is about to reach zero. Shall I reopen the exit passage?" This time, I did not hesitate. "Yes."

After I got a billion-dollar client drunk, I forced him to sign a contract that gave us better terms. He was then rushed to the ER. After that, I walked into the CEO's office with my legs shaking, holding my resignation letter. "Mr. Blake, I blacked out from drinking last night, lost control, and offended an important client. I'll take responsibility and resign immediately. I won't drag the company into this!" I wanted to leave as soon as possible before the Legal Department sued me and took everything I owned. The cold and distant CEO, Adrian Blake, pulled out his fountain pen with a dark expression. The next second, I never expected that I heard his thoughts wildly screaming in my head. "Damn! This woman is my lucky star! I'm someone with severe social anxiety who wants to hide the moment I see people. I was almost cornered by those ruthless businessmen! Not only did she take several drinks for me, but she also grabbed that guy by the collar and forced him to lower the contract price by 20%! But I'm the cold and untouchable CEO of a multinational company. I can't just beg her to attend every business dinner for me forever, can I?" I saw Adrian's face become tense, and a hidden excitement flashed in his eyes. I quickly grabbed my resignation letter, tore it apart, and said, "Mr. Blake, I know I made a mistake. Please let me redeem myself. From now on, I can attend all those business dinners for you!"

At my bachelor party the night before my wedding, my wedding ring starts talking to me. "In a few minutes, your childhood friend Christopher will hand you a hangover pill. Once you take it, you'll fall into a deep sleep and be taken into a private lounge. "He'll unlock your phone, take out a multi-million-dollar loan in your name, then hire escorts to stage a scandal that ruins your reputation." It goes on, "On your wedding day, your alleged sex scandal and crushing debt will be exposed. Your fiancee, Annabelle, will call off the wedding. "Your father, who rushes in from out of town, will die of a heart attack. Unable to bear the shock, your mother will jump to her death. "Debt collectors will hunt you down, and you'll contract a sexually transmitted disease. In the end, you'll die alone in a dumpster." That night's party was Christopher Larson's idea, and everyone here is a close friend or family member. I figure I'm just drunk and hearing things. But a second later, Christopher hands me a pink pill. "Take this hangover pill, Marvin. Big day tomorrow. You can't afford to mess it up," he says. He looks genuinely concerned, but my wedding ring suddenly heats up. "Don't trust him! Leave now, or you'll be completely ruined!" I sober up almost instantly and reach out to Christopher. "My phone's dead. May I borrow yours to make a call?" If he had already set a trap for me, there was no way he'd let me walk away. Then, I call my fiancee, Annabelle Sterling. She answers immediately, and her voice is tight with worry. "Chris?" Hearing her say his name like that makes my heart sink. "The wedding's tomorrow. Make sure you take good care of Marvin," says Annabelle. I let out a breath of relief, guilt creeping in. But my ring keeps getting hotter. A beat later, it says, "Annabelle is more than a month pregnant." I freeze in place as a chill runs down my spine.

The day my son, Nathan Cardin, turns one month old, we are both kidnapped. Our kidnapper demands that I call my wife, Jennifer Surton, so that he can demand ransom money. Since the phone is placed on loudspeaker mode, everyone can hear her scoff. "Asking for money again? You sure are going all out with your act this time." I'm about to explain when I suddenly hear someone sigh and lament. [Oh dear, how did I end up with the same start even after being reborn? Daddy is completely unaware that Mommy is currently busy gathering funds, after her first love claimed that he's now burdened with substantial debt due to helping her with her company.] Just as I'm wondering who said that, a man's voice comes over the phone call. "Jen, save me!" The call is abruptly cut off. While the kidnapper dials Jennifer's number over and over again, I hear that voice speak once more. It sounds incredibly young. [Daddy, don't bother wasting your energy. In our previous life, Mommy came to rescue us with the money, which resulted in her first love getting killed by his debtors. In her terrible grief, she set us both on fire and burned us to ashes.] Dozens of tries later, Jennifer finally picks up again. "Can't you be a little more understanding? What do you think is more important—Rick's life or you buying a new car?" Gazing at Nathan nearby, I grit my teeth and answer, "Go and save Hendrick. He's more important." In my mind, I vowed, "Don't be scared, son. I'll make sure that we both live on in this life."

During a viral family mediation livestream, the notoriously difficult Dolores Bishop appeared on camera clutching her beloved toy poodle, Buddy, who was foaming at the mouth and suffering violent seizures every night. Convinced her daughter-in-law cursed the dog to death, Dolores demanded half a million dollars in emotional damages. The chat erupted with criticism, calling her a shameless bully trying to extort her own family. But after reviewing Buddy's test results, renowned veterinarian Dr. Alex Warren delivered a devastating diagnosis: irreversible neurological damage. The only humane option was euthanasia before the seizures became even more agonizing. Just as everyone accepts there's no hope, I heard Buddy's desperate voice. "Don't kill me! Please, Grandma, save me! I'm not sick! Every night that chubby three-year-old grandson uses me like a mop, dragging me across the floor after spilling peppermint oil everywhere. It burns so badly I can't stop convulsing!" My hand jerked, nearly shattering the teacup I'd just poured. Taking a deep breath, I walked over to Dolores. "Mrs. Bishop, is your grandson carrying a full bottle of peppermint oil in his pocket?"

I can hear the voices of every organ in the human body. In my three years of practicing medicine, I've never misdiagnosed a single patient. For instance, a young man with wobbly legs comes in for a consultation, suspecting he has a terminal illness. His kidneys, however, start cursing up a storm. "You're juggling eight girlfriends at the same time. Even a workhorse on a farm doesn't get worked this hard!" I try my best not to laugh, prescribe him some supplements, and casually suggest he learn a little time management. Then, a well-dressed white-collar professional walks in and tells me she's experiencing heart palpitations and dizziness and insists that she must have congenital heart disease. Her heart immediately protests loudly in my ear. "You drink three iced Americanos a day! I'm about to burst out of your ribcage and start doing calisthenics!" I smile and prescribe her some chamomile tea. Less than half a month later, she returns with a healthy, rosy complexion to present me with a banner of appreciation. From that moment on, I earn the nickname "the Human X-Ray". … One afternoon, a woman walks in with a listless-looking boy. Maeve Brown looks sick with worry. "Dr. Young, please take a look at him! Lennon has been suffering from headaches, and he has already taken several days off school due to them." However, his brain is practically throwing a party in my ear. "Hell yeah, I successfully skipped class! I'm going to grind ranked matches all night long!" I smile as I diagnose him with malingering, and Lennon White goes home with a flushed face. Ten days later, Maeve and Hubert White burst into my office. This time, Lennon's complexion is pallid. Bracing himself against the doorframe, his body sways uncontrollably. Initially, I assume he's putting on another performance. However, the moment I hear the voices emanating from within his body, my mind goes blank. I immediately push him out of the room and dial 911. "I'd rather treat a dog with this condition than treat you!"

Three days ago, the Lucchese Family's assassins ambushed a Moretti Family stronghold, and I threw myself in front of Eric without a second thought. That was the fourth time I'd taken a bullet for him. But before I could even begin to recover from the gunshot wound, my attending physician handed me an even more devastating diagnosis: late-stage brain cancer. The tumor had already metastasized, and I had less than a month to live. Just as I sat there in agony,Eric walked in，he strode to my bedside and took my hand, his expression tender with concern. Knowing I only had days left, I tested the waters. "Eric... when are we getting married? Will you marry me?" "Soon, soon, sweetheart. Trust me. Once I've secured the Don's seat and cleared out all those old men in the Family who oppose me, I'll give you the most spectacular wedding this country has ever seen. I'll make sure everyone knows that you, Selena, are the only woman worthy of standing by my side." His voice was so sincere that it could have fooled anyone. But in that very instant, I heard another voice. [Damn it, why is Selena bringing up marriage now? Doesn't she know I'm at the most critical moment in the power struggle? Angelina is the Astalotta Family's princess. Only by marrying her can I get her father's backing and secure my position as the Moretti Don once and for all.] [Marrying Angelina is just a strategic move. I'm putting on a show with her, using her family's influence. Selena is the true love of my life. Why can't she just be a little more understanding and stop pressuring me at the worst possible time?] I could hear Eric's thoughts. And what chilled me to the bone was the brutal truth hidden in those thoughts. I closed my eyes, exhausted. I didn't expose him. I didn't have the strength to confront him. I was out of time.

On the day I nearly died, I was twenty-eight floors up, fixing an AC unit on an outside wall. My hand slipped as I was securing my safety line. All of a sudden, I had been pulled into a fantasy world. When I opened my eyes again, I was in a cave that was more like an ice box. There was an old man in a white robe next to me, poking me in the face. “Awake? Good. You’ll be one of the new students here at Icicle Mountain. You’ll get an allowance of two magic stones a month for sweeping up the cave.” “Wait, where am I?” “Icicle Mountain of Crylestia School.” “Can I make a suggestion? Your cave system has a ventilation problem. The cold air can’t escape and just keeps on making the place colder. I’ll get joint pains if I stay here too long,” I said. He looked at me like I was crazy.

After catching Dustin Sherwood cheating on me, I decisively break up with him and join a tour group to the Northern Pole to clear my head. However, I encounter a rare blizzard and get trapped on a glacier at -22 degrees. As my life hangs by a thread, Dustin trudges up to me, searching for me on foot. He peels off all his clothes, layer by layer, and wraps them tightly around my freezing body. "Don't go to sleep, Claudia. I'm sorry. Please forgive me. I only want you to live well for the rest of your life… If there ever is a next life, I promise that I will never betray you or let you down again." When the rescue team finally finds us, Dustin is still clinging to me, but his body is completely frozen stiff. They have to cut his arms off just to separate me from him. After Dustin's death, I live with guilt toward him until I die at 80 years old. When I open my eyes again, I realize that I am reborn a year before he cheats on me. In this life, he decisively severs all ties with Miranda Barlow and even makes a show of kicking her out of the company with me watching. He also swaps out all of his personal assistants and secretaries for married men and never brings any female companions to events or drinking parties anymore. Everyone marvels at how deeply Dustin is in love with me. However, on the eve of our wedding, I suddenly hear his heartfelt inner thoughts. [I'm about to have her, even in my second life. This time, I must make sure to hide Mimi well so she never finds out about her.]

On the very first day my biological parents brought me home, the fake heir framed me for stealing and even got my fiancée to break off our engagement in front of everyone. Then my entire family told me to get out and go back to the countryside. Completely devastated, I wandered to the swimming pool, ready to end my life. That was when the Ragdoll cat at my feet, the fake heir’s beloved pet, suddenly spoke. 【For fuck’s sake! Don’t jump, you idiot!】 【In our last life, that two-faced bastard drove you to your death, stole the multi-billion-dollar inheritance your grandmother left you, and then tortured me to death too!】 I froze, one foot already hovering over the water. The cat smacked a paw against the ground impatiently, hatred blazing in its bright blue eyes. 【And that bastard’s biological parents are serial killers! The evidence is hidden inside the teddy bear in his room!】 【So quit trying to kill yourself, go find the evidence, and let’s take him down together!】 I stared at the cat, completely dumbfounded. But after a moment, I changed my mind. If my family wanted to throw away their real son so badly, then I’d make sure they lived to regret it. I turned around, marched into the kitchen, grabbed the biggest meat cleaver I could find, and kicked open the fake heir’s bedroom door.

Everyone says Matteo only married me out of debt. My father took a bullet for him. Four years into our marriage, my separation anxiety hit an all-time high. As the Don, he never snapped. He canceled big meetings. He stayed every single time panic set in. At my worst, I held onto his arm all night. Even when it went numb, he never pulled back. He put up with it all. The late-night location checks. Going through his phone. He stayed until I thought we were solid. I thought it was love. Then the floating words started appearing. His soft chuckle and sweet "You're impossible" actually came with this: [When is this nightmare over?] His gentle "My girl is the prettiest" really meant: [God, she's so full of herself.] That was my wake-up call. His patience was never love. It was just a cold obligation. If I'm just a burden he tolerates, I'm out.

My buddy, Adam Page, calls me and says that his mom is hospitalized, and he can't rush back in time. He asks me to submit his competition entry that is due tonight. We're both in the competition, but I have already submitted my entry. I'm just about to say yes to helping him when my mouse suddenly jerks. "Don't you dare click it! If you submit his entry for him, you'll lose your first-place prize and the 20,000 dollars prize money! He'll even go on livestream and accuse you of stealing his work, saying that you cost him the prize money and caused his mom to die because she couldn't afford treatment. You'll be torn apart by online bullying, saddled with a huge debt, and end up losing everything!" My hands shake, and I immediately stop what I'm doing. My mouse jerks again. I close the page, create a group chat on WhatsApp, and add the advisor, Colby Jackman, and the teacher, Irene Dawson, who is in charge of the project.