Dual Rebirth

My husband worked overtime in the studio and suffered from an explosion. His body was blown to pieces. When my bestie frantically told me the news, I just nodded calmly. She called and texted me nonstop. She urged me to go to the site to recognize my husband's body. I blacklisted her and bought a ticket to go abroad. In my previous life, when I heard the news, I stopped at nothing and rushed to my husband's studio. However, I only saw my husband's cold ashes. My bestie said that my husband had poured out his troubles to her once. My husband said that I had run up a mountainous debt for gambling. He wanted a divorce, but I threatened him that he would have a sky-high debt if he divorced me. Even my mother cried and accused me of often going to the casino and taking men home at midnight. But none of this was true. I treated my husband very well; just a few days ago, I gave him a million-dollar watch as a gift. And I had never done anything related to gambling. Facing their accusation, I chose to call the police to prove my innocence. However, the police discovered my diamond necklace at the explosion site, where forensic experts also found my fingerprints. I failed to prove my innocence and became the heinous murderer who killed my husband. My mother took me to court for justice and took over my business empire. In jail, I was retaliated and died. When I opened my eyes again, I regained my life on the day when my husband suffered from the explosion.

My grandfather is a nationally renowned inheritor of an intangible cultural heritage. Today, I'm supposed to attend a grand ceremony as his rightful successor. However, when I arrive, I see my father's adoptive daughter already standing on the stage. She's dressed to the nines. She holds an award and is giving a thank-you speech, looking moved. In the past, I would've left without saying anything or speaking up for myself. Too bad for her that I'd been reborn. The discrepancy between our statuses is so large that we're basically from different worlds. Yet she has the nerve to claim to be my grandfather's successor and put on a show with what is supposed to be my family's.

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.

The moment my best friend, Patrick York, rushed ahead of me into the convenience store and asked for a lottery ticket with that specific string of numbers, I knew he was in the same boat as me. We were reborn. In the past life, Patrick and I were shortlisted for an interview at a Fortune 500 company, but there was only one opening. The day before the interview, I had a sudden urge to buy a lottery ticket. However, because of that, I missed the interview and Patrick got hired. Surprisingly, I got the winning ticket and won 50 million dollars. After my graduation, I enjoyed an easy life by living off interest from the bank. Meanwhile, despite getting hired, Patrick was paid a low wage and suffered daily abuse from his colleagues. In the end, he took out his frustrations on me by pushing me off the rooftop, killing me on the spot. After my death, my girlfriend, Emily Hayward, committed perjury for his sake. She claimed that after a prolonged period of staying home with nothing to do, I was in a bad mental state and leaped off on my own. The two of them profited off my death and became trending influencers, making it big. When I opened my eyes once more, I realized I was back to the day I purchased the lottery ticket.

My husband constantly ignored my pleas in my previous life, giving his salary to his first love despite my objections. After giving birth, I couldn't produce any milk due to prolonged starvation. My son cried desperately from hunger. When I finally managed to buy formula and brought it home, my husband snatched it away to give to his first love. "Vicky's milk supply is low too, and she's a widow. Let's give it to her child first," he insisted. I fought to take it back, but my husband knocked me unconscious. I staggered to look for him when I regained consciousness, only to discover my husband at Victoria Langford's house, putting on diapers for someone else's child. My son had already starved to death then, and out of despair, I followed him in death. When I opened my eyes again, I found myself back to the moment I first learned of my pregnancy. This time, I chose to terminate the pregnancy and file for divorce.

My fiancé fell in love with a mute woman who saved his life and wanted to break off our engagement. I kindly advised her, “The Harlow family isn’t easy to be part of. You might want to reconsider.” The mute woman, feeling insulted, took poison and ended her life. Ten years later, Victor Harlow, after taking full control of the family conglomerate, did one thing: destroyed the Grant family and came for my life. “This is the debt you owe Yvonne.” When I opened my eyes again, I had returned to my 23rd birthday banquet. The patriarch, William Harlow, asked me what I wished for. “Since Victor and Yvonne are deeply in love, please let this 'perfect couple' be together.”

My older sister was always kind-hearted, while I was born a natural troublemaker. When the intense heatwave struck, our family stocked up on supplies and stayed indoors. My sister saw a little boy, who seemed about seven or eight years old, crying and asking for help. She decided to take him in. “We’ve plenty of supplies anyway. One more person won’t make much difference. Besides, he’s just a child.” I warned her that the boy looked oddly mature and might not be as innocent as he seemed. I suggested we observe him a bit longer. She said I was a cold-hearted troublemaker by nature. Then, she went and let him in anyway. Not just that, but she also convinced our mother to force me to share a room with the boy. That night, the scheming “little boy” secretly climbed into my bed. I was brutally assaulted. Yet my sister told me to let bygones be bygones and marry him. To force me to obey, she locked me out on the balcony at over 140 °F. Enraged, I set a fire and killed everyone. When I opened my eyes again and saw my sister safe and unharmed, I smiled. This time, I would show them what a troublemaker really was.

My sister and I were both blessed with naturally fertile bodies. My sister married a poor farmer in our village and gave birth to five sons. Their family thrived and escaped poverty. I married the wealthy ranch foreman, but only had daughters. My husband resented me for embarrassing him and beat me and our girls to death. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day the matchmaker came. I watched coldly as the ranch foreman unexpectedly chose my sister with the limp, and I realized he had also been reborn. He thought marrying my sister would guarantee him sons, unaware that he had a genetic condition preventing him from having boys. I pointed to the quiet, thin educated youth in the corner and declared: "I will marry him!"

The day my husband, Caleb Vale, buries his first love, Layla Shaw, he stands in front of me and throws our wedding ring into the sea. For the next 12 years, the breakfasts I bring him go straight into the trash, and the scarf I stay up all night knitting is tossed into the fire and burned to ash. The cruelest moment is when he looks me in the eye and says, "Aurora, if you really want to please me, you might as well go die." But when a mugger comes at me with a knife, Caleb still steps in front of me without a second's hesitation. As he lies dying in my arms, he uses the very last of his strength to force out a few broken words. "Go... I hope I never see you again in my next life." At the funeral, Helena Rogers sobs until she faints. "This is all my fault. I never should've arranged your marriage..." Everyone around us pities him and resents me. They whisper that I'm a jinx and wonder why I'm not the one who died. And honestly, I wonder the same thing. Why not me? After Caleb is lowered into the ground, I climb to the top floor of the building and jump. As I hover on the edge of death, a cold, mechanical voice echoes in my mind. "Binding complete. Wish detected. The system will now send you back 12 years."

After being reborn, I decide to stay far, far away from Jasper Swanson. I resign from his company. I sell our future wedding house. I go overseas to expand our family's business. In my previous life, I used a pregnancy to force him to marry me. But on our wedding day, his beloved first love jumped off a rooftop. Jasper acted like nothing had happened. He smiled and went through with the ceremony. On our wedding anniversary, he took me and our daughter to go bungee jumping. Then, he cut the cords himself, making us fall to our deaths. Afterward, he stood over my body and laughed manically. "If it weren't for you, Coco wouldn't have killed herself! Now, go to hell and atone for it!" When I open my eyes again, I'm back on the night I used the baby to force his hand.