Look Good Meaning

My family was supposed to be the richest of the land, yet I had to refund even a cheap delivery. Why? In my previous life, my housekeeper's daughter got her hands on a trading system. Every cent of money I spent would be hers. She started trying to guilt-trip me into donating to all the impoverished students in her school. It was charity anyway, so I signed a check worth 300 grand. The moment I did, that money became part of her savings, and the amount on my check was zero. Everyone called me names, called me a charlatan. Even the boy toy I spent good money on broke up with me. That girl used my money to donate to charities and became the kind and beautiful heiress. She told everyone I was the housekeeper's daughter instead. Furious, I grabbed my black card and started shopping like crazy. I wanted to prove I was the real heiress, but the balance in my account was cleared immediately. That girl then spent 1.2 million right away, like it was one dollar. She scoffed at me. "Don't try to act like you're rich when you're a broke loser. Your mother doesn't make enough as a housekeeper." The Internet decided to hunt me down. I could not handle the stress, and my mind broke. For some reason, my body withered away at a blistering rate. Before my father could save me, I drew my last breath. When I opened my eyes again, I returned to that fateful day. The day the housekeeper's daughter made me donate to the school.

I return to my hometown after becoming the wealthiest person in the world. I stand beside a luxury car I bought for my father and call him—I want him to be surprised when he picks me up. However, this backfires on me. I joke with him and tell him my company has gone bankrupt. My debtors are coming after me, so I'm home to flee from them. I end up standing under the sweltering sun until the sky goes dark and it starts to pour—my father never shows up to see his gift. I brave the rain as I head home. Before I even enter the house, I can sense my sister-in-law's panic. "Listen to me—don't tell that jinx that Dad has just won a million dollars!" My mother says, "I knew having a daughter was a bad decision. It's bad enough that she doesn't have money for us—why is she coming home when she's in trouble? She should just die out there!" My father sneers. "Well, we can sell her off to that cripple in the village. Maybe she'll fetch a good price!"

Out on a holiday with my boyfriend, Jack, and my good friend, Eva, a catastrophe occurred. As the floods came, we waited for the rescue helicopter to come. As I fastened the safety rope, I noticed that my metal safety clip had been swapped for a plastic ring. Climbing up the rope ladder, Jack said nonchalantly, "Eva's luggage is heavy. She needs another safety clip, so I gave her yours. You can wait for the next rescue." I replied in a panic, pointing at the water level already past my chest, "But I can't swim!" Jack replied irritatedly, "Naomi, stop causing a scene! You're a strong swimmer, what's a little time in the water? Eva is my boss's relative. If something happens to her, my promotion is gone. Why can't you understand that?" "Which matters more? My life or her luggage?" I reached for the rope ladder when he kicked my hand away. "I've studied the waters. The flood won't rise so quickly. It will at most be at the level of your neck. You won't die!" I said nothing further. Watching the floods rise crazily, I quickly pressed my family's special alarm on my wrist.

My wife—Nancy Valente—had been "missing" for three months after some fake skiing accident. I spotted her at a bar. She was draped over Finley Bennett's shoulder, laughing like she hadn't wrecked my life. "Good thing you came up with this plan. I almost forgot what freedom felt like." Her crew kept clinking glasses, asking when she planned to pop back up. She glanced down. "Maybe in a week. I'll show up once he's lost his mind." I stayed in the shadows, watching her bask in her little escape act. Then I grabbed my phone and called a buddy at the Vital Records Office.

I was reborn back to 1975, when the child in my womb was three months old. I did not tell anyone and quietly had an abortion. However, I still wrapped cotton around my belly every day, pretending the baby was still there. In my past life, my husband Declan Huxley's childhood sweetheart Jane Patton and I gave birth on the same day. She had a healthy, ordinary baby boy. But my child looked nothing like us—he was mixed-race, with features of the Valorian people. Declan and I were both locals, so there was no way our son could look like this. Enraged, Declan scolded me in front of everyone, accusing me of cheating on him and having a disgraceful affair with a Valorian. No matter how many times I explained, no one believed me, and I became the shameful woman everyone pointed at. Worse still, Declan reported me and handed in some foreign letters he found at home, which led to me being taken by federal agents and sentenced as a spy. I spent ten years in prison, and when I finally walked out, I was nothing but skin and bones. Meanwhile, Declan had climbed the ranks for his so-called loyalty to the country. He held Jane's hand and brought along my real son, Seth Huxley, then threw 500 dollars at me like it was charity. He said, "Back then, Jane was accidentally deceived by someone else and gave birth to that brat. Unlike you, she has a gentle nature and couldn't endure hardship, so I had no choice but to switch your children. "This money is payment for your ten years and your reputation. You have a criminal record, and I already filed for divorce long ago to be with Jane. Seth also thinks you're not worthy of me, so you better take care of yourself." Seth also looked at me with disgust. "Mommy Jane treats me very well, and she's not like you; she's never been to prison. I don't want a mother like you!" When I learned the truth, the fury was so overwhelming that I had a stroke and died in despair. In this new life, I want to see how they plan to scheme against me when the child is already gone.

My husband and his twin brother get into an accident during a test drive. To protect his older brother, my husband is thrown from the car and dies on the spot. Hearing the news of his death, I, four months pregnant, collapse in tears outside the hospital morgue. When I come to, I overhear my sister-in-law, Gloria Quinn’s voice outside the door. "Mason, are you sure Celine won't find out about this?" Mason? Isn't that my husband, who died in the crash? A familiar male voice replies, "Gloria, you're the one I truly love. If I hadn't mistaken Celine for you that drunken night, I'd never have let you end up with Jason. Celine loves me so much and is carrying my child. "If I take on Jason's identity and look after her, I swear she'll never leave me. Then, all her family's money will be ours." I smirk coldly as I listen to their conversation. He cheats on me, yet expects me to keep his child? Since he's already "dead", he's lost everything.

The Moon Goddess offered me her protection. If I died, I'd get one chance to be reborn through the werewolf trials. I was born with "sensory impairment." I wasn't an Omega, but I couldn't shift into a wolf. I couldn't see or sense wolves in their lupine forms or their power. When I appeared alongside ninety-nine other trial candidates in an ancient rainforest shrouded in thick fog and darkness, everyone assumed I wouldn't make it past the first day. But here I was, in the terrifying rainforest nests, treating a ghostly wolf pup, drowned for its unusual coat color, as my own little cub. And, I flirted with a bloodthirsty vampire spirit who took pleasure in killing, treating him like a lover. I even befriended the evil twin Hexenbiest, treating them like sisters. The first time we met, I reached out and ran my hand over the vampire's abs. "Nice body," I commented, "just a bit on the short side." He let out a humorless laugh, reattached the head he'd been holding to his neck, and gripped my chin. "I'm six-foot-five," he said. "Want to take another look?"

The Beast Nation sent our royal family two beast slaves as a token of goodwill after they were defeated. My concubine-born younger sister took the tall and upstanding white tiger with piercing eyes, leaving me and the dying merman to look at each other. In my previous life, I took the merman as my personal bodyguard and trained him out of compassion. I spent a fortune to treat his injuries, and I even bought his slave contract at the price of ten cities and set him free. He also took great care of me, staying by my side day and night. I thought we were both in love, so I turned down dozens of marriages and stood by him with all my heart despite everyone's loud disapproval. However, when the beasts attacked again and threw my sister and me into the surging river, I frantically pleaded with the merman to save me, only to be violently slammed under the water by his massive tail. I watched helplessly as he carried my sister away. I realized at that moment that he had only given himself to me to save his own life. He had remained loyal to me even after regaining his freedom because he wanted to see my younger sister. I struggled in the filthy river, eventually suffocating as my lungs filled with mud and sand. When I reopened my eyes, I was transported back to the day of the beast slave selection. Looking at the dying merman, I covered my nose and taunted, "Where did this dead fish come from? It reeks!"

I don't kick up a fuss when Jasper Sutton's childhood sweetheart once again takes my spot in the front passenger seat. Instead, I obediently head to the backseat to sit with his good friend, Jonathan Clayton. When we drive along a bumpy road, my knee brushes against Jonathan's toned thigh. I deliberately leave it there, and he doesn't move. We stop for a break at a rest area. Jasper's childhood sweetheart clings to him as they head to the restroom. As soon as the door is shut, Jonathan grabs the back of my neck and pulls me in for a kiss. As I descend into the throes of passion, I can't help thinking it's no wonder people like to cheat.

The intern secretly submitted a voluntary pay-cut application on my behalf. As a result, my salary dropped from $10,000 to $2,000. When I found out and confronted him, my boss and colleagues all defended him. "The company is not doing great right now. Oscar was just trying to save costs for us. Do you have to nickel-and-dime over this?" With my salary so low, I couldn't afford the special medication for my chronic migraines, and one day I passed out at my desk during an attack. But the intern snuck a video of me unconscious and posted it on the company's website. He even whipped up a detailed 100-page slideshow breaking down how I was slacking off on the clock and dumping all my work on him. Overnight, I was labeled a workplace bully. My boss gave me the cold shoulder, and my colleagues whispered about me. Even worse, some extreme "anti-workplace-bullying" activists tracked me down to my home, showed up with two cans of gasoline, and burned me and my parents alive. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on that very day when the intern had submitted my pay-cut form. In this second chance at life, I would make sure everyone saw the intern for who he truly was.