Death And Rebirth

My husband was in the late stages of liver cancer. Afraid of dragging me down, he committed suicide by jumping into the river. I couldn’t swim, but I dove in after him without hesitation. To give him the will to live on, I told him about winning the lottery. He pretended to struggle but took the chance to shove me underwater, drowning me. Before I could rest in peace, he ran off abroad with his first love using my money. Only then did I realize that he had planned to fake his death all along just to get rid of me! When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day he jumped into the river. You wanted to die, huh? Well, let me help you with that!

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.

I was born into hardship, but my beauty led to my adoption by the Maddox family. When I was 18, they brought home two boys. Dustin Holland, a piano prodigy, quickly bonded with my sister, who was the darling of our social circle. Nathan Holland remained in the shadows. He didn't like to talk, laugh, or even show the normal emotional fluctuations of a person. His stubborn, wooden gaze was like that of an abandoned stray dog. Diagnosed with emotional detachment disorder, he became my project. I vowed to heal him. He locked me in a dark room, scarred my face with a branch, and encased my favorite doll in plaster. I forgave it all, thinking he was just traumatized. The elite in the circle mocked us, urging me to abandon him, but I kissed him publicly, declaring, "I love Nathan. Anyone who hurts him will pay." Then a fire tore through our home. Nathan stepped over my broken body to save my sister, his eyes wet with rare tears. Turned out, his disorder had a cure. It was just not me. Reborn on the day they arrived, I looked at the taciturn boy and sneered, "Dad, must we take in every stray?"

My husband, a surgeon, committed a fatal error during surgery. In despair at the loss of his patient's life, he chose the ultimate escape via sleeping pills on the very same night. By the time I reached his side, his ice-cold body was already being carted into the morgue. His death set the beginning of my tragedy. The patient's family, consumed by grief and rage, turned their wrath on me. Their cruel vengeance eventually took my life. As my spirit left me, I came to witness a shocking revelation. My supposedly dead husband was, in truth, alive and well! While I suffered, he enjoyed a life of luxury with his mistress and his new family. He had it all—sleek fancy cars, a stately mansion, and a mountain of wealth. The discovery burned me with rage. So furious I was, I couldn't rest in peace. When I opened my eyes again, I awoke not in the afterlife, but on the day my husband faked his death. I had returned…

The day the Porter family went bankrupt, my elder sister, who had been engaged to Calvin Porter, claimed she was in love with someone else and cut ties with him without a second thought. I was the one who stepped forward to take her place, becoming the laughingstock of our social circle. I smoothed away all the hardness in him, tried to shape myself into the woman he liked, and swallowed countless moments of bitterness, hoping only to warm his distant heart. Until our wedding day. A car accident happened, and Calvin's first instinct was to shield my sister with his whole body. "Rebecca, don't be scared. Where are you hurt? We'll get you to the hospital right away!" He carried her into the ambulance without so much as glancing back at me. I looked down at the iron rod piercing my chest and felt warm blood gush out. It was only then I understood. He was not indifferent by nature, he was simply indifferent to me. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day Calvin came to our house carrying the engagement gift.

Victor and I were nothing more than a pair of sworn enemies married inside the camp. He hated me for handing over my frail sister to the research institute, all so they could extract the antiviral serum from her blood. And I hated him for never seeing anyone but her, even in the apocalypse, when she could barely lift a metal rod. For the ten years of the apocalypse, the words we said to each other most often were, "Die a miserable death." … However, when the zombie horde finally broke through the last line of defense, he chained me to the modified mech truck and went out alone to face it. "Live…" I watched as the tide of corpses swallowed him whole, the crack of breaking bones mixing with the sound of flesh being torn apart. On the edge of death, he pulled out my sister's faded photo and placed it over the one clean spot on his chest. "This life is yours. But if there's a next one, don't go near her again." … That night, when I returned, I blew up the camp. When I opened my eyes again, I went to the zombie king. His razor-sharp claws closed around my throat, and I smiled as I took hold of his hand. "Let's make a deal. Give humans five more years, and I'll willingly be your queen." Last time, he gave his life to save me. This time, I'll be the monster—so they can all get what they want.

In my previous life, my brother Elliot Quinn's close female friend, Ava Sutton, told him she wanted to camp on the mountaintop and watch the stars. Wanting privacy, he took all the bodyguards from home with him. Unexpectedly, the rival whom Elliot had once humiliated took the opportunity to break into the house seeking revenge. My pregnant sister-in-law fought to protect me with everything she had, while my three-year-old nephew got hurt badly trying to save me. I called Elliot over and over, begging him to come home. Knowing that the situation at home was urgent, he had no choice but to leave Ava Sutton behind and rush back. Elliot's rival was captured, but from the mountaintop came terrible news. Ava had vanished after sending her last message. "I know your sister and wife have been waiting for me to die. Well, they got what they wanted." Elliot coldly deleted the message and told me not to overthink it. Afterward, Dad punished him, and he lost control of the family business. But after the corporate gala, while I was in the backyard, Elliot killed me mercilessly. His face was cold and cruel as he said, "You're the one who made me come back. That's why Ava died. Go and make amends to her!" When I open my eyes again, the front gate of the villa echoes with the voice of Elliot's rival.

My husband died unexpectedly, and my mother-in-law adopted a newborn boy. She said she wanted to keep this child by her side as a reminder of my husband. Therefore, I raised him as my own child. Later, when he grew up, I gave him the company with peace of mind. The first thing my son did after taking power was to have someone lock me up in the basement and torture me. He said, "If it weren't for you, I wouldn’t have been separated from my parents all these years." At the moment of my death, my husband, who had supposedly passed away for many years, appeared with his first love in his arms. "Sophia, how does it feel to be cheated for more than ten years? Fortunately, you raised a son for me so that we can live happily without you." Angered to death, I could only watch the three of them. When I opened my eyes again, I returned to the day when my husband died unexpectedly.

The first experiment in the world of retrieving memories after death succeeds, and my memories are going to be broadcast live all over the Internet. My dad has just learned about my death, but he only says in a disgusted tone, "Who would want to see the memories of someone who is selfish, mean, and has nothing commendable at all about them? Today is the wedding day of Zoe and Cameron. Pause the live broadcast and stop being so sickening!" Zoe is my stepsister, and Cameron is supposed to be my fiance. After that, my father finds out the truth from the live broadcast of my memories. He begs for my forgiveness tearfully but… I'm already dead.

My husband had a heart attack on his way to work and died. All I could see was his body when I rushed to the hospital. I was heartbroken and bedridden. When I was about to die, I saw on the news that he won a lottery ticket worth 300 million dollars. My bestie cashed the prize money with him. When I opened my eyes again, I was back to the day when my husband faked his death. But I wanted to make his death real this time! “Are you from the funeral home? My husband is dead. We need to plan a cremation for him right away!”