Plot Twists Short Stories & Ruthless Face Slapping Novels

After three years of gathering herbs, I finally returned to Green-Pouch Valley. But my master, Mr. Gu, was not there. On the ground, only a dark red pool of blood remained, soaking his cloth robes. My senior brothers and sisters, usually so lively, were nowhere to be found. My master's wife, Auntie Qin, sat collapsed beside the pool of blood. Her once-black hair was now mostly white, her voice a hoarse whisper as she called to me. "Shuang'er, your master traded his life for the valley's ascension. You must go to the Nine Heavens and offer your thanks." It was only then I understood. The Celestial Lord, Jun Che, in his quest to forge an immortal body for his mortal wife, had coveted my master's rare Celestial Bones of Healing. He used the promise of ascension for everyone in Green-Pouch Valley as bait, then brutally tore the bones from my master's living body. I was born with a strange affliction, a void where joy and sorrow should be. The others in the valley secretly called me a cold-blooded monster. Now, as I stared at the blood-soaked robes of the man who had saved me and treated me like his own daughter, my expression remained blank. "Auntie Qin, did Master do this willingly?" Auntie Qin's eyes instantly reddened. "Jun Che is the Celestial Lord. His word is heavenly law. How could we ever defy it?" I gave a faint nod. "If it was not what Master wanted, then Jun Che deserves to die." Auntie Qin's face went pale with fright. She lunged forward and clutched my arm. "Shuang'er, your master's last words were for you all to protect yourselves, not throw your lives away fighting an unwinnable war against the heavens." I pried her fingers off one by one and looked up at the glittering, golden Celestial Realm beyond the clouds. A faint smile touched my lips. "Auntie Qin, Master taught me that a healer's heart must be compassionate." "But he never taught me that gods can't be killed."

I'm admitted to the hospital for gastritis, but my boyfriend shoots to his feet after receiving a call. "Chelsea has a fever. I'll go check on her; I'll be right back!" He runs off without waiting for me to say anything and doesn't return for the rest of the night. That night, I see a short clip that Chelsea Calloway has shared. "I'm not afraid of any illness with you by my side." I comment, "He is pretty good at caring for others."

My father had a PhD in AI, and he built me an AI little sister named Ava. He said she could see through every lie I told, so I could forget about pretending to be sick to get out of school. From that day on, every time I said I didn't feel well, my father asked Ava first. If she flagged what I said as a lie, it didn't matter whether I was telling the truth. All I got was a cold look from him and hours locked in a room. I argued. I fought it. But my father would just look at me as if I were a failed experiment. "I built Ava myself. The system doesn't make mistakes. You do." On Halloween, for the first time ever, my father took Ava and me to an amusement park. The Zombie Drop Tower stood right in front of us, rated ten out of ten on the scare scale. Pain gripped my heart. I clutched my chest and shook my head as hard as I could. But Ava coldly pulled up a data report. "Nora Whitaker's heart rate is elevated because she is lying. A full-body scan shows she is completely healthy." My father's face went hard. He grabbed my wrist and dropped his voice. "Nora, you're allowed to be scared. You're not allowed to lie. The data is right here. Get in." "Dad, my heart hurts... it really hurts..." His expression didn't change. "Here we go again. You've been embarrassing me since you were little." The moment the ride dropped and the holographic zombies lunged at my face, my heart hurt so much I couldn't breathe. My vision blurred, but beside me, he was still speaking in that same cold voice. "When are you going to stop lying your way out of things?" Tears of blood slid from the corners of my eyes. Dad, I really wasn't lying this time. I'm dead now. I'll never lie again.

"Mrs. Sterling, are you sure you're ready to end this marriage of twenty years and give up the custody?" "Yes. File it. I’m done." I said calmly through the phone as I scrubbed at a stubborn grease stain on the granite island. For twenty years, I poured my entire being into this family. I managed the households, handled the children's education , and stood by my husband's side, supporting his rise in the syndicate without complaint. But my husband Alexander brought his young adopted sister Chloe to the interview, saying, "My success today is all thanks to my adopted sister." Even my own children looked down on me, calling me common and crude housewife. They had formed an alliance with his ever-present "auntie," the woman who seemed to think she was the true lady of the house. I signed the divorce papers and walked away, leaving them to become the "perfect family" they clearly wanted. But that when the family panicked…

After I graduated, I kept hitting walls while job hunting, but my boyfriend landed a position at a big company with ease. My boyfriend of two years voluntarily gave me his salary to comfort me. When I finally found a job, he worried about my long commute and bought me a car. All my friends envied me for having such a thoughtful boyfriend. In order to buy our first house, I secretly transferred my own salary into his account as well. A year later, we decided to get married. He held my hand and said excitedly, “I know you don’t have much saved. I don’t want a single cent from you. All I want is your whole heart.” I was deeply moved by how considerate he was. However, on the day of our engagement, he pulled out photos of me with more than 40 different men and accused me of cheating. I stared at them. I had never even seen these people before. Then, he showed me his card’s transaction history, filled with charges from a place called Sunshine Club. “I trusted you with my card, and you used my money to fool around! I’m not marrying you. Give me back my car and the 800,000 dollars you’ve burned through.” I calmly took out the card he had given me before and sneered, “Sure. Let’s settle the accounts properly.” The moment my attorney revealed the true financial statements, he was completely stunned.

My online boyfriend dropped a bomb on me the day before freshman orientation day. He had been playing dice with a group of friends and lost a bet. Apparently, I was the prize. Before I could even figure out whether he was joking, he added me to a gaming group chat packed with more than a hundred people. The announcement at the top had already been changed. "Congratulations, Oliver! You just won yourself a 200-pound girlfriend!" A few seconds later, someone posted an old high school photo of me. It was a picture of me in my loose school uniform. As I was at nearly 200 pounds, my neck had practically disappeared into my shoulders. The chat instantly erupted. "Holy shit! That's not a girlfriend. That's a pig in human form." "A bet's a bet. Oliver, you have to do the couple challenge with her tomorrow." The jokes only got worse from there. Before long, someone even started a betting pool over whether I would have the nerve to show up the next night. My own boyfriend threw 10,000 at me and then backed out. "Don't blame me, man. You rolled a six. You won her fair and square." Oliver, the guy who had supposedly won me, stayed completely silent. Then, the girl everyone in the freshman group had already crowned the hottest girl on campus suddenly tagged me. "Lauren, you're coming tomorrow night, right?" I watched message after message fill the screen. Then, I smiled. They had no idea that I had spent the past several months preparing for the day I finally met my boyfriend in person. I was no longer the girl in that photo. I had gone from 200 pounds to 110. I'd been stopped by plenty of guys over the past two months. I'd gotten so many men asking for my number in the past couple of months than I had during the first 18 years of my life combined. None of the people laughing in that chat knew any of that. And I… Well, I didn't see the need to explain myself. Instead, I quietly put 3,000 on myself. My bet was simple. I would show up exactly on time. The entire group chat went crazy the moment they saw it. Mocking comments, jokes, and laughing emojis flooded the screen. I didn't say anything, letting their jeers fill the screen. Then, I sent one final message. "A bet's a bet."

For the past three months, I've slept only three hours every day just so my team and I can create an app. Thanks to our hard work, the app goes absolutely viral to the point we've garnered over 100 million registered users on the first week of its launch. At the afterparty, my wife, Stacie Woodward, announces that her godbrother, Tory Frost, who's the PR manager, will be the one receiving the million-dollar bonus. She then tosses me a few 50% discount coupons that can be used in shopping malls as my bonus. "You're just a code monkey—why do you need that much money anyway? You can have these discount coupons. Use them on anything you want. At least buy some nice clothes for yourself. Don't go around wearing these rags. You'll just end up humiliating me more." I plead to her in a low tone, "Have you gone crazy, Stacie? My dad needs the money for the best medication in order to save his life! Can you please stop joking around?" But Stacie clings to Toby's arm, looking high and mighty. "Your dad's dying, isn't he? He might as well stop wasting the public resources! I can always choose him a better grave and hold a nice funeral for him when his time comes!" As I look at Stacie's smug face, I just smile at her instead of getting mad at her. She must have forgotten that the app's core algorithm and the user growth model are built using my private, undisclosed technology stack. That means the copyright is mine and has nothing to do with the company. I just smile while nodding at Stacie. That night, I activate the technology stack's self-destruct and migration protocols.

In my past life, my selfish son stopped caring about my husband and me after marrying a woman who followed her mother's words like they were holy commandments. In fact, he orchestrates an accident to kill my husband and me under the influence of his wife and her family. It's all so he can inherit our fortunes earlier than expected. When I'm reborn, I look at my son, who's rotten to the core, and decide that I don't want him anymore!

My boyfriend's tablet, left behind at my place, suddenly lit up with a group chat notification. "Ron, that gold digger's totally hooked, right? When are you taking her to the luxury boutique so we can humiliate her in public?" "Everything's ready. We're just waiting to film her fawning over the designer goods like the greedy little gold digger she is. The guys are gonna love it!" The group chat was called "Exposing Gold Diggers." And my boyfriend Ron was the one who'd created it. I opened the tablet and scrolled through the message history. Screen after screen of vile, disgusting garbage. My blood boiled with every word. So that so-called love at first sight at the designer boutique had been a setup from the very start. He'd spent the better part of a year carefully worming his way into my life, showering me with attention, all while treating me like prey, waiting for the perfect moment to humiliate me for an audience. What a joke. I was the real deal, a genuine heiress from one of the wealthiest families in the country. The gifts he'd gone to such lengths to give me? I couldn't have cared less about any of them. If he was so obsessed with playing people, then I'd give him a taste of his own medicine! Let him see what it felt like to be the one getting played!

My husband promises to go to my hometown with me for the New Year holidays this year after I go to his. But before the trip to my hometown is due, he suddenly tells me he doesn't want to go anymore. I argue with him about this, and he pummels me with a bat. Meanwhile, his family eggs him on, telling him to kill me. Intense pain shoots through me as the blows land. I try my best to fight back, but I can't win against the majority. As the sky darkens, everyone heads home for dinner after giving me a good beating. When I regain consciousness in a corner of the garden, I see sense.

With my first paycheck, I buy three air conditioners for my family. But when I come home from work, I find that my west-facing bedroom is still sweltering like an oven. And there's a huge winter melon sitting on my bed. Mom proudly pats its skin. "We moved the air conditioners into your brother's and sister's rooms. We had one left over, so we installed it in your sister's art studio. "The outdoor unit for your room would be right outside your sister's window, and the humming would keep her awake at night. Just sleep with a winter melon. It'll keep you cool enough." I open my mouth, but the dull ache in my chest leaves me unable to speak. She has forgotten that I was hospitalized for heatstroke just last month. The doctor warned me to stay out of the heat after I was discharged. I turn toward the studio at the end of the hallway. Cool air spills through the crack beneath the door. Dad is adjusting the lighting over my sister's easel. My brother is holding a freshly cut slice of chilled watermelon to her lips. And my boyfriend of three years is carefully adjusting the airflow for her with the remote. "Angle the vents upward. Don't let her catch a cold." I wipe the sweat from my forehead and stare at the ridiculous winter melon on my bed. Suddenly, I don't want to fight for anything anymore. I take out my phone and reply to my supervisor. "You said I could become a permanent employee early if I transferred to the new branch in Veymont. I agree." After making it through twenty-two summers, all I want is to give myself a spring that never ends.

My husband, Theodore, was about to take his childhood sweetheart, Rosalie, around the world in a hot-air balloon when I was kidnapped by his enemy. They were about to throw me into a snake pit. I gave up asking Theodore for help and called my father-in-law instead. In my previous life, I begged Theodore to save me, even kneeling in front of the phone camera. Hence, he abandoned the hot-air balloon ride with Rosalie and rushed to negotiate with the kidnapper. Rosalie was all alone and angry. She took another hot-air balloon, but it exploded mid-way, causing her to die on the spot without even leaving behind an intact corpse. Hearing the bad news, Theodore showed a rare calm expression. He seemed to forget about Rosalie's existence and took me on a trip around the world. As we were sailing in Norwol, he suddenly pushed me into the sea. "I should never have saved you. Snake pit? Kidnapper? How could they have had the courage to push you into it? I should've never saved you if I knew it'd kill Rosalie. You should go to hell sooner!" When I opened my eyes again, I had come back to the day I was kidnapped. This time, I chose not to call for help. Humble love would only leave you bruised and battered.

At the base entrance, the guard stopped us for the usual inspection. “Your infection test came back negative, right?” I nodded. The guard was just about to let me through when Ethan Cross, the team’s new medic, suddenly spoke up. “Wait, Captain. What about that scratch on your arm from the mutated rat?” The air froze. The guard’s expression changed at once. “Captain Hale, is that true?” I gritted my teeth. “It is. But the wound has already been treated, and I have antibodies.” “I’m carrying a top-level mission. I need to enter the base immediately.” The guard hesitated, his hand already moving toward the gate controls. But Ethan stepped across my path and blocked me. “Captain! You were coughing badly on the way back. What if you’re a carrier?” Then he turned to the guard, his voice firm and absolute. “I request immediate quarantine for Falcon Squad and a full screening for Captain Hale.” The guard’s eyes sharpened. He raised his weapon. “I’m sorry, Captain Hale. You’ll need to come with me to isolation first.” I froze where I stood. A full screening would take at least forty minutes. But the zombie king in the base laboratory would awaken in thirty. I had to lead my team in and stop it before it broke free.

I'm playing hide-and-seek with my little niece. I close my eyes, count to 20, and head up to the attic, only to find the door padlocked shut. I turn to leave, but then I hear rustling on the other side. I tiptoe closer and press my ear against the wooden door. I'm about to shout, "Found you!" when I catch the sound of my buddy Alec Redmond's breathless breathing. "Cassidy, you think anyone's going to come up here?" My girlfriend, Cassidy Brennan, laughs softly. "Don't worry. I promised Cora I'd buy her that Barbie she's been wanting. She locked the door, so no one's going to find us." I freeze outside the door. My blood runs cold. This morning, Cassidy and Alec tell me they have a surprise planned for me. Then the two of them drive off together. I clench my fists until my knuckles go white. So, this is the real surprise.

I lent the company two hundred thousand dollars' worth of camera equipment for three years, and my boss repaid me by cutting my salary. My monthly pay dropped from two thousand dollars to six hundred. I went to ask him for an explanation. But when I arrived, the newly hired photography intern was showing him a refurbished camera. "The company can use my equipment too. Six hundred dollars a month is enough for me." My boss spotted me coming in and seized the chance to put me in my place. "See, Joe? If you won't do the job, plenty of other people will." I froze for a moment, then asked the intern, "How can you live in Fairhaven on just six hundred dollars a month?" He answered with self-righteous conviction. "Why couldn't I? I've done the math. A room in a shared place farther out costs a hundred and sixty. Food is six dollars a day, so a hundred and eighty a month. If I'm still short, I'll take out a loan." "What's wrong with enduring a little hardship when we're young? We should be working hard and learning, not constantly making demands of the company. How do you not understand something so basic?" My boss beamed as he listened. I smiled too. So, you enjoyed suffering? Fine. I bought the company. It was time to show them how a real capitalist operated.

My name is Danielle Crawford. My younger brother, Darrell Crawford, is bringing his girlfriend, Vivian Gallagher, home for Thanksgiving. When she changes her shoes in the entryway and notices my pink slippers, she suddenly looks up and says sweetly, "Danielle, you're Darry's sister-in-law, right? I heard you've been a widow for two years. Have you… been living here this whole time?" Her eyes dart back and forth between Darrell and me. I frown, and I'm about to explain when she beats me to it. "Let's get one thing straight. Once Darrell and I tie the knot, you'll have to move out. I'm not going to let you stay here and act like you're Darrell's responsibility!" Darrell's face turns bright red. Looking at me awkwardly, he mutters, "Elle, Vivi didn't mean it like that—" I slap him across the face and snap, "A fallen officer's family is being insulted right in front of you. Are you blind or deaf?"

On the train to college registration, my heart gave a sharp, agonizing flutter. I leaned over the bunk and tapped the frame below me. "Mom, Dad, my heart hurts. Can you ask Julian to grab my medicine?" Thunder flashed outside, illuminating the compartment. The five other bunks were empty. I had been forgotten again. Ever since my younger sister, Lily Hayes, fell ill last year, I became an afterthought. “She needs all our attention,” they told me. “Stop competing for love.” So I ate alone, studied alone, and learned to keep my quiet during my worst heart episodes. Then came the next excuse, my grades were too good. Seeing my success would stress Lily to the point of breakdown. So they shipped me off to boarding school. My presence at home shrank until my house slippers vanished from the entryway, unnoticed. Julian Hayes never noticed when I scrambled for medication during an attack. And now, they didn't notice leaving me behind on a train. My eyes stung. Chest tightening, I grabbed my phone to call for help, but an app notification froze me. A photo posted by Lily minutes ago. Five beaming faces under the streetlights outside the campus gates. Beside her, Seth Vance stood with his arm around her neck, flashing a peace sign. Before we boarded, I had pulled on Seth’s sleeve, asking for a quick photo together. He had pushed me aside gently while stowing Lily’s luggage. "Later. We have four years to take pictures. Go get some sleep. I’ll wake you before we stop." Seth forgot. And there would be no "later." I opened the app and changed my ticket destination to a distant city a thousand miles north. The world was wide. I would walk into this future alone.

Ever since I was little, I knew my mom didn't want me. My dad, though, kept telling me that she loved me, but some complicated stuff was keeping her away. He said that once I grew up, I needed to find her and claim my place in her life. I always figured he was just making things up so I wouldn't grow up resentful of the motherly love I never had. Then the debt piled up. Dad was scrolling through TikTok, looking for any way to drum up sympathy online, when he suddenly let out a wild yell. "Scrappy! Look, it’s your mom! Pack your stuff, we’re going to find her!" I stared at the screen. The woman in the video was stunning, effortlessly poised, and dripping in old-money elegance. A cold pit formed in my stomach. My mom was a wealthy socialite from New York City? How could someone like her ever be connected to a holler like ours? Even with the doubts screaming in my head, I packed my worn-out duffel bag and boarded the bus to Manhattan with my dad.

In my previous life, I inherited the family's steakhouse, while my sister asked our dad to get her a job that paid 75 hundred a month. To her shock and surprise, the heir of a rich family and I fell in love at first sight when he came over for a meal. I became his wife, and everyone envied me for marrying the richest man in Imperia. My sister lost both her legs during a work accident. Jealous of my great life, she set me up and killed me with her own hands. We were both reborn at the same time, back to the moment where we would make the decision that would change our lives forever. Right before our father, she told him she wanted to inherit Shaw's Steakhouse. I heard everything, and in a corner where no one could see me, a sneer curled my lips. Poor thing. She had no idea at all. Her nightmare would begin the moment she met Jonathan Landton.

My boyfriend belonged to the untouchables among the capital's elite, with a family fortune worth tens of billions. To "test" me, he spent seven years never buying me a single gift, never spending a cent on me. Even a stop at a convenience store for condoms had to be split down the middle. Then, my mother fell critically ill. I borrowed from every friend and relative I could, but I was still two thousand short to cover the surgery fees. No matter how much I pleaded, he refused to lend me the money. I arranged my mother's funeral on my own. When I went back to pack my belongings, I accidentally found a list of gifts he had bought for the young woman next door. A private luxury estate. Designer handbags. Jewelry worth hundreds of millions. There was also a voice chat with his friend. "Caleb, is it true Jessica actually humbled herself and begged you for two thousand?" Caleb Brooks let out a low, amused laugh, his tone lazy and indifferent. "Nevaeh wasn't wrong. Anyone who goes around begging over two thousand — what else is she if not a gold digger? "We've only been together seven years and she's already trying to get money out of me." So that was the truth. Seven years of so-called testing, it seemed, had been sparked by nothing more than a few manipulative words from a young woman next door. However, it no longer mattered. The moment my mother passed away, I had already decided to leave him.