Feel Blessed Quotes

The zombie apocalypse had arrived, and pets could transform into guardians to protect their owners—each person was allowed no more than three. My best friend had spent a fortune on three Tibetan mastiffs. The landlord cleared out a fish tank to raise a crocodile. My boyfriend? He had stormed the zoo and dragged a lion home. And me? I only had three stray cats. The eldest was blind, the second one limped, and the youngest had just turned one month old. The moment the apocalypse system announced that pet slots were locked, I knew I was doomed. I tried to hide with my three disabled cats, hoping to survive quietly. Day one of the apocalypse: terrified… Day two: helpless… Day three: my cats sauntered over, tails swishing, carrying some unidentifiable object. "Mama, I bit off all the zombie heads on this street. How's that? Solid enough?" I was rendered speechless.

Right before graduation, my roommate waved around a job offer from some overseas company. It had a three-day workweek, with a starting salary of $50,000 a month. It sounded too good to be true, so I warned her it might be a scam. When she struck out on other job leads, I asked my dad to get her a position at his company. She scoffed at the eight-hour days and $6,000 monthly salary, calling it slave labor. Then she went live online, falsely accusing my dad of inappropriate advances and pressuring her to bear him a son. When skeptics questioned her, she swore no woman would lie about her honor. The internet erupted, branding my dad a predator. Our company collapsed under the backlash, leaving us drowning in debt. To spare me, my dad jumped from a rooftop to his death. Devastated, I wandered into traffic and was struck by a truck. When I opened my eyes again, I was back to the day Amber got that shady offer.

When I found out I was pregnant, I immediately went to buy abortion pills. When I decided to take the pills, I could hear my unborn son’s heartbeat. [Mom, please don’t abort me! I can bring you fortune!] [My dad is super rich. He loves simping and chasing women.] [He goes after innocent and strong-willed women. He gives away gifts freely, but the women usually would throw them away. I know where these thrown away gifts are!] I thought I must be crazy. I hurriedly swallowed the pills and drank water. [Several hundred grams of gold! The latest handphone! Tens of millions of jewelry! What’s more…] I gagged and spat out the pills into the trashbin next to my feet. “Where are they? Tell me now!"

Outside the police tape surrounding a fancy hotel, a police officer can be seen blocking my way. "There seems to be a bomb hidden in the hotel! Unauthorized personnel are not allowed to get any closer!" I'm just about to dig out my work badge when the intern next to me, Christine Wyatt, covers her mouth in a pretentiously shocked manner. "Officer, there's a detonator and a timer in his bag! Those things look so scary!" The entire scene goes eerily silent. Almost immediately, I see a few guns getting aimed at my forehead. Anxiety begins overwhelming me. "I'm a bomb disposal expert from the Headquarters Explosive Ordnance Disposal Unit! My bag contains all the tools necessary to dispose of a bomb!" "Throw your bag over to me and keep your hands where I can see them!" Captain Scott Hunter roars at me. My bag is opened afterward. Things like an insulated cutter, a bomb suppression blanket, and a liquid nitrogen cooling tank are scattered across the ground. Before I can explain myself, Christine suddenly points at me while screaming, "Why are you still playing dumb? You just told me that you wanted to set off an explosion in that hotel! "What, now that the police are here, you dare not admit what you just said, huh? You're a terrorist through and through!" Scott reacts quickly by pinning me on the hood of the police cruiser with my hands folded behind my back. "We're taking you back for a thorough interrogation!" My heart almost stops at those words. The bomb that's packed with enough firepower to take out half a street has already gone on a countdown in the hotel lobby. But I, the only bomb disposal expert who can get rid of the bomb, have handcuffs put on me because of Christine's nonsensical accusations. Right now, there are only 29 minutes left before the bomb goes off.

"Chloe, when you were younger, our family arranged a marriage for you. Now that you're almost recovered from your illness, would you be willing to return to Kingston City and marry?" "If you still don't agree, I'll talk to your father and cancel the engagement." In the dimly lit room, Chloe could only hear silence. Just as the person on the other end of the line thought they would not be able to convince her, she suddenly spoke up. "I'm willing to go back and get married." Her mom, Felicia, froze, clearly surprised. "You... you agree?" Chloe's tone was calm. "I agree, but I still need a little time to wrap things up in Marina City. I'll be back within two weeks. Mom, please go ahead and start preparing for the wedding." After a few more words, Chloe hung up the phone.

I suddenly got a call from the police, telling me I was involved in an abandoned baby case. My best buddy was holding me up as we rushed to the scene when Shirley Dunn, the girl who had asked me for directions last week, suddenly pointed straight at me. "That's her. I saw her this morning, holding her stomach, going into the restroom! Now the baby's been born, and her belly's flat!" I was completely stunned. Before I could react, she shoved the newborn straight into my arms. "This is your own flesh and blood! How could you abandon him?" The officer's expression was equally severe. "Miss, I understand that becoming a mother at 20 can be scary, but abandoning a baby is a crime. If you didn't want to raise a child, you shouldn't have had one." More and more college students gathered around, their stares stabbing into me like needles. Cold sweat soaked my back. My best friend suddenly burst out laughing. "Congrats, man! You're a dad now!"

My boyfriend's childhood sweetheart bound herself to a transfer system: everything she ate would be redirected straight into my stomach. She opened a streaming account and broadcast herself eating for twelve hours straight. She earned a fortune. Meanwhile, I collapsed with acute pancreatitis and was rushed to the hospital. When I explained the situation to my boyfriend, he only stared at me like I was insane. "How could something that absurd exist? If food could really be transferred, no one in the world would ever starve. You're just jealous that she's making money from streaming." After that, every time his childhood sweetheart went live, I ended up hospitalized again. I kept hovering between life and death. I sought medical help, but the doctors couldn't explain my condition. Some even wanted to commit me to a psychiatric ward. Then, one day, in order to outdo her rivals in a PK match, she devoured ten pounds of rice in a single sitting. At that very moment, my spleen and stomach ruptured, and I bled to death on the spot. When I opened my eyes again, I had returned to the day of her very first livestream. This time, I was prepared. I rushed out and bought twenty takeout meals. "This time," I said, "I'll eat first."

Past thirty, my usually serious husband suddenly developed a fascination with pink. The dark-colored furniture that had stayed the same for ten years was replaced with pink; even the utensils he picked up casually were pink. I stared at the line of pink pajamas, pink bow ties, and pink underwear hanging out to dry on the balcony, feeling something was off. "I thought you said you hated pink—that it was a color only women liked?" He was unpacking a new pink bed set and didn't even look up. "Oh, Jack and I made a bet. If I can replace everything in the house with pink, he'll give me his seaside villa for free. Honestly, after looking at it for a while, pink isn't that bad, don't you think?" I neither agreed nor disagreed. Instead, I called Jack, who blurted out, "What seaside villa? I don't remember ever buying one!"

My daughter, Nina Camollo, who was badly injured in a car accident, died in the operating room after life-saving measures failed. Before I could recover from the shock of her death, I received the horrifying news that all her organs had been removed. Devastated and desperate, I threw all my energy into uncovering the truth. Only then did I discover that the consent form I had signed—given to me by the lead surgeon Avelina Bianchi—had a voluntary organ donation clause hidden in it. Moreover, Nina hadn't been in critical condition at all. She was still alive when all her organs were harvested. Enraged, I showed my husband, Arturo Camollo, all the evidence and declared that Avelina must suffer. Yet, three months later, I see Arturo holding Avelina's daughter in his arms at the mall with Avelina herself leaning against him affectionately. When I storm over to confront him, I learn that Avelina was Arturo's childhood best friend. Nina's heart had long been transplanted into Avelina's daughter, who suffered from a heart condition. Faced with my accusations, Arturo insists that Nina has always been kind-hearted. He believes that Nina would have agreed to it if she knew that her life could save so many others. Amid my struggle with them, a speeding car runs over me, killing me on the spot. When I open my eyes again, I find myself reborn to the day Avelina hands me the critical condition notice and consent form.

I come home and find my husband's female best friend, Winona Langdon, who claims to be one of the guys, sleeping in my bed. I bring up divorce with Lucas Gardner for the 99th time. This time, he finally snaps. "Natania Simmon, are you done making a scene? Are you throwing a tantrum again just because Winona stayed over at our place and slept in our bed?" I answer calmly, "That's right." His friends throw their arms around his shoulders and chime in sarcastically, "Don't take it to heart, Lucas. Women get jealous easily. Oh, how I miss the days when we all slept under the same covers together." Lucas smiles bitterly and says, "When you guys get married in the future, remember this—you can't afford to mess with jealous women. Still, there's no helping it. Natania just loves me too much. She's trying to scare me by throwing divorce around. "Listen. In less than three days, she'll come crawling back to me." The derisive smirk playing on my lips deepens. In our seven years of marriage, Winona stays at my house whenever she pleases. I watch with my own eyes as Lucas and Winona grow increasingly inappropriate in their interactions. They reach into each other's pants. They also share the same straw and wash each other's underwear. And now... She even sleeps in my bed! These last seven years were not love. I was just foolishly blind. Right in front of everyone, I dial a number and say, "Dad, I'm done messing around out here. Your heiress is ready to come home."