Intelligence Emotional

My father-in-law tossed a credit card across the table and looked down at me, demanding that I divorce his daughter. In my past life, I had refused with everything I had. But this time, I picked up the pen and signed the divorce papers without a second thought. Because right then, I remembered what had happened last time. In that life, I found my wife after she had lost her memory. To support her, I worked myself to the bone, delivering 200 food orders a day. But when her memories came back, she realized she was actually the daughter of the wealthy Harretts. She saw our marriage as a stain on her perfect life. To get rid of me, she pretended to have amnesia again. She said, "Since you saved me once, I'll give you some money. But after this, don't ever show up in front of me again." I refused. I stayed by her side, enduring her insults and beatings. But in the end, she ordered our son to set the fire that killed me, just so she could marry her first love. Now that I had been given another chance, I wasn't about to make the same mistake twice.

My nanny, Lucci Eyre, liked to call herself an independent, modern woman. She used to tell me every day to be self-reliant, do my own laundry and cooking, take care of the kids by myself, and even suggested that I divorce my husband. Later on, I found out that she was actually a social media influencer. Without asking for my permission, she made a series of videos trying to make me look pathetic as a Stepford wife. She also stole my jewelry and clothes. After I fired her, she accused me in the live stream of being a rival female competitor and pandering to men. Then one of her crazy fans tricked her way into my home and poisoned me. When I woke up again, I was reborn to the day I discovered that her social media account had millions of followers. ‘Since you're so into live streaming and making short videos, why not show everyone who you really are and let them see the independent woman that you are?’

My brother-in-law, Benjamin Fallow, got trapped in a deep pit, so I grabbed some ropes and risked my life to climb down and pull him out. Just after I tied the rope around his waist, the line went slack and we both came crashing down. When I looked up, I couldn't believe my eyes. My wife, Celeste Fallow, had cut the rope. Meanwhile, her childhood friend, Vincent Jameson, grinned and egged her on. "Do it." Black-clad bodyguards started shoveling sand into the hole, trying to bury us alive. I grabbed the walkie-talkie and screamed up at her, "Celeste, your brother and I are still down here!" She sneered back. "Three years ago, during the quake, you left Vincent's brother trapped under the rubble for five days while you saved others. Now it's time to pay what you owe." Vincent shed crocodile tears and crowed, "Celeste, thanks to you, my brother's revenge is finally complete." With the sand already up to our ankles, I shouted at the top of my lungs, "Celeste Fallow, your brother is really down here with me!"

After being reborn, the first thing I did was forge a medical report diagnosing chronic kidney disease. In my previous life, my nephew had been diagnosed with kidney failure, and he needed a transplant to survive. I rushed to get a matching test and donated one of my kidneys to him. But over time, my health deteriorated. At twenty, my body felt like it belonged to someone eighty. Even simple chores like sweeping the floor left me exhausted. I couldn't go out to work or earn a living, yet my brother and sister-in-law scolded me for "pretending to be sick." "It's just a kidney." my sister-in-law snapped. "Do you expect to leech off our family forever?" She even went so far as to buy a pair of fresh pig kidneys and smash them in my face. "Since we took one of yours, here's a new pair. Happy now?" Because I had lost a kidney, I died before the age of thirty, alone in a rented apartment. The next time I opened my eyes, I was back—before my nephew's diagnosis even came in.

My sister is diagnosed with leukemia after a medical checkup at the hospital where I work. My bone marrow is a match for her. Out of curiosity, I tell my family I'm the one who's sick. They vehemently oppose to her donating her bone marrow to me. "A bone marrow donation is risky! We can't let your sister put herself in danger." "Don't drag your sister into this just because you're sick. Everyone's life and death is fated—you have to accept your destiny." My sister also refuses to help me, brushing me off with the excuse that she's preparing to conceive. My relationship with my family is strained, so their behavior thoroughly destroys it. When I realize this, I leave the diagnosis report behind and walk out on them.

My wife, Sarah, died unexpectedly. My in-laws made an absurd request. "Why not have Stella play both roles? After all, Luke can't be without a mother." My brother-in-law, Greg, yelled at me, calling me shameless, and stormed out in anger. I looked at my sister-in-law, Stella, who looked exactly like my late wife. I could hardly conceal my grief. I was about to urge them to abandon their ridiculous idea, when I accidentally overheard a conversation between her and her parents. "It was Stella who died, so why did you lie and claim it was you?" Sarah sighed. "I love Greg. I staged my death so I could be with him legitimately. As for asking me to play both roles, don't even bring it up again. As for Michael, I have already given him a child and a respectable marriage. I owe him nothing." Turning around, I saw Luke with reddened eyes, asking me softly, "Daddy, does that mean that Mommy no longer wants us?" I bent down and pulled him into my arms, forcing myself to soothe him. "Your Aunt Stella wants to protect the person that she loves. We shouldn't bother her. It's time for us to prepare a new life."

I went abroad for a year to further my studies and kept in touch with my girlfriend through video calls every day. One day, I saw her first love posted a photo with a caption: [We are finally back together after ten years!] In the photo, my girlfriend was visibly pregnant, holding the arm of the man next to her with a sweet smile.

My younger fraternal twin brother finally gets a girlfriend. Our parents, who are overseas, entrust me with the task of welcoming her. I instruct the maids to prepare a feast to welcome her. As we sit around the dining table, my brother scoops a bowl of soup for me himself. After that meal, my brother's girlfriend pulls a long face at me. "Who gave you the right to eat the soup my darling scooped? How could you be so lazy? You can't even cook, yet you're not even embarrassed to stuff yourself with all that food!" I'm stunned by her outrageous words. I reply in annoyance, "What does that have to do with you anyway? I'll do as I please!" She glares at me with hatred written all over her face and yells, "Why aren't you married yet? The family's assets belong to me and my darling. Who do you think you are that you can spend our money? "Just look at you. You will never be able to get married like this. Perhaps it'll be better for you if you beg me to introduce my elder cousin to you. He doesn't mind that you're lazy. All he wants is for you to give him a son. He earns over ten thousand dollars a month!" I'm dumbstruck by her shamelessness. I storm straight to the bathroom where my brother is and bang on the door repeatedly. "Come out here right now! What is with your girlfriend? And since when have our family's assets become yours and yours alone?"

After our class reunion, my best friend naturally expected me to play chauffeur and drive everyone home. I agreed. However, halfway down the road, a limited-edition luxury car slammed into the back of my car. The owner, who claimed to be a wealthy businessman from overseas, waved off the idea of filing an insurance claim. He said the crash was fate, and with a grand gesture, handed the luxury car over to me on the spot. From that day on, I drove the million-dollar luxury car every day, until jealousy consumed my best friend. She secretly sabotaged my car, and it ended with my death in a fiery wreck. My boyfriend turned on me, insisting I had simply fallen asleep at the wheel. My parents, unable to bear the shock, both died of heart attacks. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day of the reunion.

I die in the basement after being burned by acid. My family doesn't recognize me, and they don't call the cops. My mother picks up the scalpel that hasn't been used in years and debones me. My father excitedly mixes my skeleton with concrete and turns me into an exquisite statue. My sister uses the sculpture she's made out of my flesh and portrays herself as a genius sculptor whom everyone admires. Later, the sculpture is shattered, revealing half a broken finger inside. That's when everyone panics.