Ginger Jobless Reincarnation

A century ago, the head of the powerful Gilbert family in the capital made a cruel remark: "A woman who can't bear sons is nothing but a hen that lays no eggs." His words provoked forces beyond his understanding, and brought a generational curse upon his bloodline. Since then, every Gilbert man has faced the same fate: on his 30th birthday, he begins to grow feathers and wings... until he fully transforms into a clucking, egg-laying hen. The only way to break the curse? Marry a girl born on a rare, fated date, the Cursebreaker. Both my sister, Ruby Larson, and I were born under that date. In my previous life, Sean Gilbert, the cursed heir to the Gilbert fortune, asked for Ruby's hand in marriage. To protect her, I took her place and married into the Gilbert family myself. However, Ruby thought I had betrayed her for money. She livestreamed her suicide. Sean never forgave me. From that day on, he despised me with everything he had.

My mother marries into the Patterson family with me after her divorce. She marries Thomas Patterson, the dean of a veterinary hospital. Meanwhile, I marry Walter Patterson, a firefighter captain and Thomas' son. On this day, there's a huge storm. I'm almost due for labor, but I still head to the hospital to pick my mother up after an operation. We head to the subway, but it ends up being flooded. I endure the labor contractions and call Walter with trembling hands, wanting to ask for help. He finally answers after hanging up on me 18 times. "What the hell do you want? How stupid can you be, calling me in such a huge storm? "I'm saving lives here! Tracy's foot was cut by glass while being saved, and I've just bandaged her wound. Now, I have to take her dog to Dad's hospital so he can save it. The dog is hanging by a thread; if you need help, get some other firefighter to do it! Don't pester me!" Later, the rescue team arrives. My mother and I are pushed to the back of the crowd, and people won't stop shoving us around. The floodwater rises, and I have no choice but to carry her on my back while trudging along the corridor. This continues for three hours. When we're finally rescued, my mother is already unconscious, and I end up losing my child, who's almost to term. My mother and I look at each other tearfully in the ward we share. I say, "Mom, I'm getting a divorce." She says, "It's not a big deal, sweetheart. I'll do it with you. I've done it once before—I know how this goes."

A group of unexpected guests suddenly barged into my relative’s funeral. The woman, Xena Carter, leading them claimed to be my husband’s girlfriend and declared that she was here to punish me, the supposed mistress. Out of respect for the funeral, I did not want to make a scene, so I calmly suggested she wait until it was over. But out of nowhere, she lashed out and ordered her group to shred all of my clothes. My relatives around us did nothing and watched coldly as it happened. I calmly dusted myself off, stood up, and led her over to the urn. "This urn for my mother was bought by your boyfriend. It cost nearly a million!" As expected, the mistress flew into a rage, smashing the urn to pieces. "You shameless family of lowlifes! Don’t think you’ll get a single cent from my boyfriend, even in death!" What she did not know was that when I said "mother," I was referring to my husband’s mother, my mother-in-law. She was causing a scene at my mother-in-law’s funeral, and she had just smashed her urn to pieces.

The boy, George Larson, whom I once saved as a child, when he was struggling with asthma, repaid my kindness by imprisoning me for seven long years. "Luna, you're my everything. I won’t let you out of my sight," he said, his voice filled with obsession. He tied my hands and feet, keeping me bound to the bed like a helpless doll, but I did not love him; I wanted to escape. In his madness, he set fire to my family’s ancestral home. The last traces of the Sachs burned to ashes, disappearing into the wind. He said that since my home was gone, I could just live with him and that it would be my new home. However, because I refused to let him touch me, he found someone else—a girl with a beauty mark under her eye, just like mine. The girl, drunk on his affection, thought I was trying to imitate her by faking the same tear-shaped mark. In a fit of jealousy, she gouged out my eyes. My face was covered with tiny, bleeding holes, blood streaming down my body. When George came home, the girl gleefully stuffed me into a trash bag, proud of her handiwork. “George, look! I caught some trash that broke into the house!” George did not even glance at me. He just loosened his tie, his voice calm and detached. “Just toss it where trash belongs.”

On the day of my wedding with my girlfriend, I was unexpectedly informed by the hotel that our ceremony had to be postponed by a couple of hours. With no time to notify relatives and friends of the change, I had to rush to the hotel entrance to intercept guests. Upon arriving, I was stopped at the door by security, who told me that a wedding was currently taking place inside. The host's voice could be heard as I saw my girlfriend, wearing a veil, smiling and extending her hand to a man who was half-kneeling. In the audience, all the bride's relatives who were supposed to attend our wedding were seated, clapping and cheering. The man on stage was her dream guy and also my current superior. Seeing me causing a commotion, my girlfriend warned me, "I'm just helping out. Alex is your superior. I'm also doing this to help you. Don't cause any trouble." Just helping out? I had booked the wedding venue, chosen the time, designed the wedding dress, and personally sent out the invitations. How could a wedding be rearranged so suddenly? I looked coldly at the ring box the man was holding. "It seems my taste is quite similar to my yours. If that's the case, this diamond ring is yours, including the wife." My girlfriend finally panicked.

The day after my best friend, Sarah Blunt married Patrick, the second son of the Brosnan family, I too became a bride and wed Matthew, his older brother. She married a swimming champion, and I, the rock-climbing coach. We thought we had our futures all figured out. Then, something happened that summer. The four of us planned a getaway but Matthew and Patrick’s baby sister, Megan joined us and our peaceful trip became a crowded affair.  While rock climbing, disaster struck—the rope snapped, and all five of us plummeted into the river below. The brothers rushed frantically to save Megan, leaving Sarah and me at the mercy of the river’s current, battered and tossed like driftwood. By the time the rescue team pulled us from the water, we were bruised, scraped, and utterly spent. In the hospital, Megan and I received devastating news that would change everything.  “You’ve been pregnant for 40 days, Ma’am. How could you put yourself in such a risky situation? Your baby survived, but your friend lost hers.” Shaken, I called Matthew to tell him about the pregnancy. His anger cut through the line. “You’re angry that I went to Megs first and now you’re trying to fool me with a fake pregnancy? She’s my sister—it’s my duty to protect her!” Sarah faced her own storm. Patrick practically scoffed at her grief. “Miscarriage? Do you expect me to believe that? The doctors said you only had a 30% chance of conceiving. I can’t stand women who create drama out of nothing.” Both calls ended abruptly, leaving us stunned as we stared at each other in the sterile light of the hospital room. In that shared silence, we made our decision—we would leave these men behind and start anew, launching a business together. But when the brothers received our divorce papers, they showed up at my door in the middle of a storm, kneeling in the pouring rain, crying through the night for a second chance.

A group of unwelcome visitors suddenly show up at a relative's funeral. The man in the lead claims to be my wife's boyfriend and wants to punish me. Apparently, I'm her fresh-faced lover. I don't want this to turn into a big deal because we're at a funeral, so I tell him we'll settle this after everything's over. Unexpectedly, my wife's boyfriend causes a huge fuss and instructs his men to pin me to the ground, wanting me to get on my knees and grovel at his feet. The rest of my relatives are unmoved by this. They watch as my legs get broken. I sneer and say, "Your girlfriend bought this urn for my mom. She spent a fortune on this, you know!" Sure enough, the man is furious. He clamors and wreaks havoc, ultimately smashing the urn to pieces. "How dare you parasites latch onto my girlfriend and try to exploit her! Don't think you're getting a cent out of her!" What he doesn't know is that the "mom" whose funeral is being held is my wife's mother and my mother-in-law. The funeral that is crashing is hers, and her urn is the one he's just smashed.

Because I made Sam Whitaker's "perfect girl" take a cold shower, he threw me inside a freezer and locked the door. "Nancy caught a cold, so now I'm going to make you suffer with her!" I desperately clawed at the freezer door, screaming for help, but all I could see was Nancy Bullocks' lips moving. "Sam cares too much about me, so there's nothing I can do to plead on your behalf. I'm afraid you'll just have to endure this one." She set the temperature to the lowest possible setting, and the last sliver of my vision faded as the dust cover slipped into place. When Sam returned from his honeymoon, he finally showed some mercy and said he would let me out. "I'll let it slide this time, but let's see if you dare target Nancy again." 'I won't dare to target her again because I have already become a massive block of ice. One touch and I will shatter into a thousand pieces,' I said to myself.

Dahil sa isang masamang plano, nawala kay Maisie Vanderbilt ang kaniyang pagka-birhen at napilitan siyang lumayas sa kaniyang bahay. Paglipas ng anim na taon, bumalik siya sa bansa kasama ang tatlong maliliit na bata, handa na siyang maghiganti.Hindi niya inakalang mas madiskarte pa sa kaniya ang tatlo niyang mala-anghel na mga anak. Hinanap nila ang kanilang tatay, isang taong makapangyarihan at kayang protektahan ang kanilang ina. Kinidnap nila ang kanilang ama.“Mommy, kinidnap namin si Daddy at inuwi na siya!”Pinagmasdan ng lalaki ang tatlo niyang mini-me. Saka isinandal si Maisie sa pader. Habang nakataas ang kilay, bigla siyang ngumisi. “Dahil mayroon na tayong tatlo, bakit hindi pa tayo magdagdag ng isa?”Umangal si Maisie, “P*nyeta ka!”

“Maximo Guevarra, maghiwalay na tayo,” malamig niyang sabi sa asawa. “At sino naman ang nagbigay sa 'yo ng karapatan na sabihin 'yan, Mrs. Luciana Mendoza-Guevarra? Tandaan mo, akin ka at walang ibang aangkin sa 'yo kaya hindi ako papayag!” **** Si Luciana Mendoza ay dalawang taon ng kasal sa CEO na si Maximo Guevarra. Halos dalawang taon din siyang nagtiis sa malamig nitong pakikitungo sa kanya at paulit-ulit na pinapamukhang pinakasalan lamang siya dahil wala na itong ibang magagawa. Ngunit, hindi iyon nagpatinag sa kanya at pilit na kinukuha ang puso ng asawa hanggang sa napagod na siya lalo na nang magbalik ang dating minahal nito at nagdadalantao sa kanilang anak. Hangad na niyang makipaghiwalay ngunit, nang wakasan na niya ang kanilang relasyon ay bigla naman siyang pinigilan ni Maximo. Laking gulat na lamang niya na biglang nagbago ang pakikitungo sa kanya ng asawa. Hindi na ito ang dating walang pakialam at ngayon, siya naman ang hinabol-habol nito pagkatapos niya itong sukuan at nang paligiran siya ng maraming lalaki matapos siyang sumikat sa kanyang mga disenyo. Sa pamamagitan ng pagkuha ni Maximo sa kanyang malamig na puso, at walang tigil na pagsuyo, magagawa kaya ni Luciana na magtiwalang muli? O sapat na sa kanya ang dalawang taon na sugat na natamo niya sa mga kamay nito…