Realism Novels & Stories

My younger sister, Sophia Ashford, got pregnant before marriage. To protect her reputation before marrying into a wealthy family, she abandoned the baby at our doorstep after giving birth. Our parents, Owen and Julia Ashford, begged me to adopt the child, Tom Ashford. Seeing how pitiful he was, I agreed. Raising Tom consumed nearly all my time and energy. I lost my original job and ended up washing dishes and carrying trays, juggling three jobs on my own just to survive. When Tom grew up and was accepted into a top university, Sophia suddenly returned, crying and accusing me of stealing her child. She had successfully married into a wealthy family and lived happily with her CEO husband, Sebastian Langford, for years. Now, she wanted Tom, who had already grown into someone accomplished, back. "She was the one who stole my baby! I finally found you, my precious child! Your CEO father is rewarding you with a million dollars for getting into university. Work hard and inherit the family business in the future!" Just like that, the son I had raised for over a decade threw himself into her arms without hesitation and cut off all ties with me. The situation spiraled out of control. Our parents were ashamed of me and kicked me out of the house. To prove my innocence, I drove to the police station to retrieve surveillance footage from back then, but I died in a car accident on the way. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day I discovered the abandoned baby. This time, I didn’t hesitate. I called the police immediately.

Mom, Dad, and Jesse—my younger sister—went out to sea on a trip, but they were caught in a tsunami, and all three perished in the accident. I was left all alone—just as I was about to start university—burdened with nothing but a mountain of debt. In the end, everything I had saved for my university tuition, along with the house Mom and Dad had left me, was taken by debt collectors. I was then forced to work in a shady factory, laboring 16 hours a day, sleeping in a shabby ten-person dorm, and surviving on nothing but thin, flavorless broth. I finally cleared the last of the debt when I accidentally discovered that Jesse—who was supposed to be dead—had appeared on television and become a famous dancer. Mom and Dad even gave an interview about her success. It turned out they had taken out a massive loan and faked their deaths to flee to Pravia for Jesse's dance studies, leaving the entire debt for me to deal with just as I was supposed to start university. I went to confront them, demanding the truth, but they threw me out like trash. I was then hit and killed by a speeding truck at the side of the road. "How could Lorraine be such a nuisance, not even having the decency to die far away from our doorstep?" I have been given another chance, reborn on the day they faked their deaths.

In a bid to assess rare resources, our expedition team ventures into an uninhabited desert, only to be suddenly faced with a heat wave that reaches 158 degrees Fahrenheit. Becoming so dehydrated that I'm close to fainting, I hurriedly open my backpack to dig out the electrolyte drink I prepared beforehand. The bottle is already about to touch my lips when I realize it's half filled with urine. I turn my head, just in time to see my husband's childhood sweetheart guzzling the electrolyte drink. Just as I'm about to lose my temper, my husband yanks on my sleeve. "Don't be mad. I was the one who gave your electrolyte drink to Maddy because she's nearly dehydrated. In the meantime, you'd better just make do and drink this, okay?" By then, black spots are dancing in my vision. Squeezing the bottle of urine, I hiss through gritted teeth, "I'm already dehydrated, but instead of letting me rehydrate quickly, you're telling me to drink this. Are you trying to kill me?" Immediately, a displeased look crosses his face. "Stop talking nonsense. Maddy isn't like you and doesn't train her body every day. She absolutely can't handle such high temperatures. Isn't it only right that she gets the electrolyte drink? "Besides, urine can rehydrate you, too. Why are you still making a fuss at this point?" Realizing that he cannot be reasoned with, I decide to send out a distress signal and seek help before I fully lose consciousness. "Severely dehydrated and near death. Expedition operations suspended. Immediate rescue required. Also reporting the presence of a robber within the team—please contact authorities as soon as possible."

The butler's son took my secondary credit card and burned through my money so he could play the part of a trust-fund prince everyone envied. He made me, his employer's real daughter, bring him lunch every day and run errands for him. In front of his classmates, he smeared me as his family's servant and a desperate girl chasing after him. He even stole my family's heirloom jewelry to impress the campus belle. I finally hit my limit. I decided to give him a lump sum and cut ties completely, treating it as payment for the life-saving favor he once gave me. But after I brought it up, he and his father poisoned my family's food and seized every bit of our property for themselves. When I opened my eyes again, I was back in my college classroom. Facing the butler's son, who was still flashing the wealth he stole from me, I took his card and cut it in half. "If you keep pretending like this, your butler dad's salary won't cover the act."

I chase my six-year-old daughter out of the house on a cold winter day. I cut her new clothes to pieces and dirty her dainty little face with mud. Then, I give her all my savings. She looks at me tearfully and reaches out for me, wanting me to hold her. However, I harden my heart and push her away, saying, "Leave! Go to Bowen Group and look for their CEO, Logan Bowen. Show him my death certificate and your DNA test—he'll take you in." She sobs while looking at me. "Don't you want me anymore, Mommy? Let's go look for Daddy together." After a brief silence, I say, "I can't go with you. I lied to him back then to have you." Yes, I'm a liar. I orchestrated everything from meeting Logan, dating him, to ultimately leaving him with his child in my womb. Even the death certificate I've given my daughter is fake. From beginning to end, I've lied to him about everything except our daughter.

I spend an entire year preparing to get my daughter, Quincy Lindell, into a top international school. By the time the application review date rolls around, I have all the documents ready. I just need my wife's and my original marriage certificate to seal the deal. However, when I reach the admissions office, my wife, Wendy, blames me for taking matters into my own hands. I am about to explode when the school staff member says with a strange expression, "Mr. Howards, our system shows that you are not Ms. Lindell's spouse." My blood turns to ice. Before I can react, Zachary Shea, who has been quietly standing behind Wendy, passes his wedding certificate to the person in charge. The school staff member nods after checking her computer. "Ms. Lindell, Mr. Shea, your certificate was validated seven and a half years ago. You can now register your child for this school." Seven and a half years ago… That was the date of Wendy's and my engagement party. She held my hand in front of a room full of guests and said that I would be the only man she ever loved. That one sentence was enough to fool me for seven years.

I failed my college entrance examination. My father decided to sell me to the village chief’s hot-tempered, crippled son. My younger twin sister helped me escape in the middle of the night. It was only later that I discovered my younger sister was the one who had failed the examination. She used my identity to attend college and hooked up with a rich heir. At her engagement banquet, they revealed the truth that she had taken my identity. As a result, the event fell apart. Out of rage, my sister pushed me down the stairs. I grabbed her and pulled her down with me. When I opened my eyes again, I returned to the day the examination results came out.

In my previous life, I, Ruth Spencer, fell seriously ill. Because of that, I managed to stop my husband, Zayne Colman, from going on a business trip to the country border. He immediately canceled his flight, pulled me into his arms, and gently comforted me. Over the phone, he gave instructions to my younger sister, Reagan Spencer. "The project comes first. You go in my place." But no one could have known that the so-called business partner was actually a ruthless scam syndicate. Reagan had her organs harvested and was tortured to death. I was devastated. Zayne held my frail body in his arms and hoarsely promised that even though Reagan was gone, he would still love me twice as much. And he kept his promise. For ten years, he never let me suffer at all. In fact, he spoiled me rotten. This went on until the day I gave birth. The pain nearly knocked me unconscious, but Zayne put his hand over the call button to prevent me from summoning help. The words he spoke were laced with malice. "If you hadn't gotten sick at such a convenient time back then, Reagan wouldn't have gone alone! I could have saved her. "It's your fault she's dead! She must feel so lonely down there. You and this bastard child can go keep her company!" That was when I finally realized that our love were nothing but a lie. When I open my eyes again, I am back on the day he is about to leave for that trip to the border. This time, I release them to the path leading to freedom, or, in other words, to hell.

I had anemia, so getting pregnant was not easy for me. My husband and I tried for ten years, and we finally had a son. When our son turned eight, he got into a car accident. The doctor said that he needed a blood transfusion, but his blood type was A. Both my husband and I were type O. My husband started to suspect that the child was not his and did a paternity test right away. The result showed that the boy really was not his son. I could not believe it and asked for another test, but the result was the same. My mother-in-law accused me of cheating and called me horrible names. My husband asked for a divorce and told me to leave with nothing except my son. We were kicked out of the house and ended up living in a cave in the mountains. A sudden rainstorm caused a landslide, and my son and I were buried alive inside. After I died, my spirit stayed near my husband. I heard him talking on the phone. “Don’t worry. I made her leave with nothing. We’ll get our marriage certificate tomorrow.” It turned out he had been seeing another woman for a while and had planned everything to make me leave with nothing except my son. What I could not figure out was how he managed to fake the paternity test in front of everyone. Luckily, I returned to the past. I woke up on the day of my son’s car accident.

When I saw my best friend tending to the elderly man upstairs with such diligence in washing his clothes, cooking his meals, feeding him medicine, and giving him massages, I immediately knew that she had been reborn, too. In my previous life, my best friend and I shared an apartment. We were often awakened in the middle of the night by the old man’s cough from upstairs. When I went up to check on him, I learned that his legs were paralyzed, and he had no children or family. Out of sympathy, I decided to care for him. I brought him his daily meals and gave him massages. A month later, out of the blue, the old man mysteriously handed me a bank card and said, “There’s eight million here. It’s my reward to you.” With that money, I immediately went and paid off my father’s medical bills. Later, the old man went even further and transferred the ownership of the apartment that we were renting to me. He told me, “When your father is discharged, move in together. That way, I’ll have someone to keep me company, too!” When my best friend learned of this, however, she went ballistic. During the few days I was having trouble sleeping, she had secretly spiked my water with a lethal dose of sleeping pills. She watched as I died in agony. After my death, my boyfriend, posing as my fiancé, cut off my father’s medical bills and took away the old man’s bank card. Meanwhile, my best friend spread slanderous rumors among the neighbors, claiming the old man gave me money because I had sold myself to him. Half a year later, the two got married and paid in full for a luxury apartment in the city centre. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on that very day when the old man upstairs was coughing uncontrollably.