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While taking the high-speed train home, I came across a post online. “My brother-in-law is pushing thirty, but no wedding bells so far. Would it bother you if he came back to visit all the time?” The comments were all over the place. With the post blowing up, the poster started arguing with commenters. “It’s bad enough that he doesn’t start his own family, but he took one of my yogurts. I can’t stand him. “Geez. Does he know nothing about keeping boundaries? I’ve been dying to put him in his place. “I converted his room into my walk-in closet. Well, that should show him for staying here.” At that point, I stopped reading. Since I paid for the family home back then, one room would always be reserved for me. As I stepped off the train, my mother texted me. “I booked you a room at the hotel, Miles. “You might want to skip staying home this time.”

โอบกอดสตรีอื่น มิหนำซ้ำสตรีผู้นั้นยังตั้งครรภ์ แต่ท่านกลับมิยอมถอนหมั้นข้า ท่านกล้าเหยียบย่ำหัวใจของข้าเช่นนี้ อย่าหมายคืนดีเลย

ช่วยเหลือเขาจนขึ้นสู่อำนาจอย่างที่เขาปรารถนา แต่เมื่อถึงฝั่งฝัน ท่านโหวผู้นั้นก็รีบแต่งสตรีในดวงใจของเขาแทบจะในทันที เมื่อรักที่นางมอบให้ ถูกตอบแทนด้วยการหักหลัง นางจึงตัดสินใจจากลา เมื่อจากเป็นไม่ได้ ก็จากตายกันไปเสียเถิด

From a stall in the office restroom, I overhear someone badmouthing me. Henry Fielder, the intern I've been mentoring for three months, grumbles, "The guy's got zero people skills. He's a total fossil, like a robot stuck in one mode." I'm about to push the door open and jump in when someone laughs and piles on. "The paperwork is incomplete. The receipts aren't compliant. I can't reimburse it without a manager's signature. We could recite his canned empathy lines in our sleep!" Once they're gone, I quietly head back to my office. Later, Henry drops a thick stack of expense reports onto my desk. "Quit waving the rulebook and rejecting everyone's reimbursements." I skim the fake receipts, and for once, I don't call him out. Instead, I give a thin smile and say, "I have a headache. I can't make out the words."

นางนั้นฐานะเป็นเพียงบุตรสาวของอนุ ถูกปฏิบัติมิต่างจากบ่าวคนหนึ่งในจวน แม้กระทั่งวันหนึ่งพี่สาวต่างมารดาหนีงานแต่ง นางกลายเป็นผู้ที่ต้องก้มหน้ารับผิดชอบเข้าพิธีมงคลนั่นแทน

ถูกคนรักหักหลัง ครอบครัวถูกสังหารทั้งตระกูล ในมือนางจึงเหลือเพียงความแค้นจะให้นางปล่อยวางได้อย่างไร นางมิอาจปล่อยวางความแค้นลงได้ ส่วนเขาก็มิอาจปล่อยนางให้จากไปได้เช่นกัน คนหนึ่งคิดว่าอีกฝ่ายลุ่มหลงสตรีตามประสาบุรุษทั่วไปอีกไม่ช้าคงแปรเปลี่ยน แม้ลึก ๆในใจก็หวังให้เขาดีกับนางเช่นนี้ หลงใหลนางเช่นนี้ตลอดไป ทุกครั้งที่รู้สึกว่าเขามั่นคงและจริงใจต่อนาง ความหวาดระแวงที่จะถูกหักหลังก็ฉุดรั้งกลับมาอยู่ที่เดิม คิดว่าเขาเหมือนบุรุษทั่วไป นางมิเพียงแต่หลอกหลวงความรู้สึกหยางซวี่เหวิน ในขณะเดียวกันหลอกความรู้สึกตนเองไปด้วย ส่วนอีกคนคิดว่าอีกฝ่ายยืมมือตนเองเพื่อความแค้น แต่ก็เต็มใจที่จะช่วย แม้สักวันเมื่อความแค้นหมดลงนางอาจจะทิ้งเขาไป ปกครองเมือง ยืนเหนือบุรุษมากมายจะฉุดรั้งสตรีนางหนึ่งเอามิได้เชียวหรือ

To save my wife, my lungs were pierced by a knife, leaving lasting consequences. When I fell ill and struggled to breathe, she said I was dramatic and went on a business trip with her childhood friend. When she returned, I found a man's underwear in her suitcase that did not belong to me. I calmly made the call: "Director, I've made up my mind. I'm going to assist in Avrika." Later, at the airport, she bent down, publicly lowering her head and begging for my forgiveness.

After my mother shot down my pleas to cover my medical bills the 100th time, I clutched my bone cancer diagnosis papers and trudged to the crematorium. "Hi, I'd like to reserve a cremation slot ahead of time," I muttered to the clerk. Half an hour ticked by before my parents and adopted brother arrived in their car. My dad, a forensic pathologist, cracked me across the face. "You're pulling a fake-death stunt now, just to steal the spotlight from your brother?" My mom, a hospital director, snatched the papers from my hands and shredded them into confetti. "Faking records using my credentials and tying up hospital resources? You've crossed the line!" My brother cried, tugging at their sleeves. "It's all my fault. I'll skip the amusement park forever. I don't need a thing. Just quit riling up Mom and Dad." I spun around, my hand pressed against my throbbing chest, and begged the crematorium staff. "Please, when it's time, cremate me and scatter the ashes in the river. I've got no family left in this world."

Evelyn Larson's nephew, Maxwell Larson, has been staying at my home for 12 years. On top of sponsoring everything he has in life, I even view him as my own son. Heck, I'm the one who paid the down payment for Maxwell's new family home. But on the night we're having a holiday dinner, he throws me a list in front of everyone. "Uncle Lawrence, I've already hashed out the details with my fiancee's family. We'll be giving her family 700 thousand dollars as a wedding gift. You've raised me for so many years, so you need to prepare this amount for me." I frown instantly. "Didn't I just settle your down payment for you? Besides, Tiffany's about to get married soon. I need to save some money for her own wedding gift." But Maxwell instantly smashes a plate out of anger. "Since she's marrying into another family, that means she's no longer a part of this family! Are you saying that you're willing to give your money to an outsider rather than your own nephew? "If you refuse to agree to my terms, I'll make Aunt Evelyn divorce you right now!" I turn to look at Evelyn out of instinct, only to see her pulling out a gift agreement that she has already drafted. "We don't need to prepare any wedding gifts for Tiffany, seeing as she's the one marrying into another family. Max, on the other hand, is the only son of the Larson family. You should give your money to him instead."

Our third wedding anniversary was coming up, but my wife, a programmer at a major tech company, suddenly claimed she had to work overtime to meet deadlines. She said she couldn't go on the trip we'd planned. That very afternoon, however, her intern posted a video on social media. My wife—the same woman who normally wouldn't even open a door for fear of chipping her manicure—was holding a screwdriver, repairing an old flip phone. The caption read: [Having a programmer wife is the best. Even when Grandma's phone breaks, we don't need to pay for repairs.] I chuckled, liked the post, and commented: [Right up her alley.] Within minutes, the company group chat exploded. There were over ninety-nine unread messages speculating on when I'd finally snap. Not long after, my wife called. Her voice was ice-cold. "What was that comment supposed to mean? How is Shawn supposed to face anyone at work now? "His grandma's phone broke, so I fixed it. What's the problem? Your parents have always spoiled you. You can't possibly understand real hardship. "Delete the comment. I'll make it up to you over the New Year; we can take that trip then." The New Year? I'd already waited through two other major public holidays. I'd even taken special leave for this trip, and she still bailed. Now she was dangling empty promises again? I hung up on her. My leave ended around the same time as our divorce cooling-off period.