Rebirth

My husband's true love's son starts burning up in the middle of the night. He leaves me behind to take him to the hospital. I clutch my belly and wait for him to return, but all I get is news of my child dying of asphyxiation. I'm in agony after losing my child, and I lose hope in everything. I jump off the building and welcome death. When I open my eyes again, I'm back to the day that I slip and fall and give birth prematurely. This time, all I want is for my child to be born safe and sound. Nicholas Zimmer, I don't want you anymore!

After receiving the news that her husband had died during a mission, my sister-in-law collapsed from the shock. When she woke up, she'd lost her memory. She clung to my husband and refused to let go. Our husbands were twin brothers. The doctor said she couldn't be triggered, so my husband and mother-in-law sat me down and begged me to play along until she got over this. Every time I brought it up again, they shut me down. "This is only until she gets her memory back!" So I watched as my husband and his widowed sister-in-law eat, sleep, and live under the same roof. Even our daughter could only stand by and watch her cousin call him "Daddy". One day, my daughter spiked a high fever and wouldn't wake up. I begged my husband to take us to the hospital. Unexpectedly, his sister-in-law went berserk over it and threatened to kill herself. In the chaos, I was stabbed in the heart by the scissors she swung around. When I opened my eyes again, I found myself back to the day my husband agreed to play the role of a substitute husband.

My husband worked overtime in the studio and suffered from an explosion. His body was blown to pieces. When my bestie frantically told me the news, I just nodded calmly. She called and texted me nonstop. She urged me to go to the site to recognize my husband's body. I blacklisted her and bought a ticket to go abroad. In my previous life, when I heard the news, I stopped at nothing and rushed to my husband's studio. However, I only saw my husband's cold ashes. My bestie said that my husband had poured out his troubles to her once. My husband said that I had run up a mountainous debt for gambling. He wanted a divorce, but I threatened him that he would have a sky-high debt if he divorced me. Even my mother cried and accused me of often going to the casino and taking men home at midnight. But none of this was true. I treated my husband very well; just a few days ago, I gave him a million-dollar watch as a gift. And I had never done anything related to gambling. Facing their accusation, I chose to call the police to prove my innocence. However, the police discovered my diamond necklace at the explosion site, where forensic experts also found my fingerprints. I failed to prove my innocence and became the heinous murderer who killed my husband. My mother took me to court for justice and took over my business empire. In jail, I was retaliated and died. When I opened my eyes again, I regained my life on the day when my husband suffered from the explosion.

My pregnant sister jumps off the roof of my new apartment, and my brother-in-law calls me hysterically, telling me to hurry home. I turn off my phone and continue binge-watching my show. In my past life, I hurried home to try to save my sister, but my brother-in-law accused me of abusing her, causing her to fall into depression. He claimed that was why she'd jumped off the building. The police verified that my sister was abused before her death. There were injuries all over her body and traces of an abortion pill in her stomach. My mother hated me to the core because of this. She pummeled me before disowning me. I was cyberbullied and fired by my company. After losing everything, I headed home in despair and ended my life. When I open my eyes again, I'm taken back to the day my sister took her life.

Despite dreaming of attending university all my life, I ended up stuck in my farming village. I married my brother-in-law and became my nephew’s stepmother. This all happened because my sister died trying to make money for my tuition fees on the day my results came out. I thought I had failed to secure a place at university and stopped thinking about higher education out of guilt. I married my brother-in-law according to my sister’s wishes. To pay for my sins, I raised my nephew and treated him like my own son. I made money and tutored him so that he could get into Northside University. In the end, I developed late-stage cancer. Before dying, I attended my nephew’s celebration, but he publicly accused me of being a homewrecker while my husband agreed that I had seduced him. They brought out my sister, dead for eighteen years, and made me apologize to her. It was then that I found out she had faked her death and used my university admission letter to finish her study. She had become a university lecturer after tricking me into taking care of her family. Outraged, I had a cerebral hemorrhage. When I woke up, I found I had gone back to the day my sister faked her death.

When I returned to the corporate research and development press conference, I knew Tyler Zach would step forward to accuse our team of plagiarism, yet I chose to turn a blind eye. In my previous life, Tyler’s accusation had caused Nelson Corporation to instantly lose ten percent of its core interests. Back then, I stepped up and single-handedly saved the day. Not only did I ensure the press conference ended smoothly, but I also used the opportunity to elevate the company’s reputation to new heights. However, I was eventually betrayed. My first love, Rosie Nelson, fabricated evidence against me and sent me to prison. Even the results of my project were falsely credited to Tyler. I refused to believe it. I bombarded her with questions and demanded answers. Rosie’s eyes were filled with guilt, but she only replied, “Evan, Tyler came from humble beginnings. He can’t afford to lose this once-in-a-lifetime chance to make a name for himself! “Don’t worry. We’ll get married once you’re out.” I fought desperately to appeal, but I was beaten to death in prison. I wondered if Rosie could handle the company’s losses without me fighting tooth and nail to turn things around this time. I did not expect Rosie to turn to me at the most critical moment of the conference with panicked eyes and urge me desperately, “Evan! Why aren’t you on stage explaining everything yet?!”

The moment my best friend, Patrick York, rushed ahead of me into the convenience store and asked for a lottery ticket with that specific string of numbers, I knew he was in the same boat as me. We were reborn. In the past life, Patrick and I were shortlisted for an interview at a Fortune 500 company, but there was only one opening. The day before the interview, I had a sudden urge to buy a lottery ticket. However, because of that, I missed the interview and Patrick got hired. Surprisingly, I got the winning ticket and won 50 million dollars. After my graduation, I enjoyed an easy life by living off interest from the bank. Meanwhile, despite getting hired, Patrick was paid a low wage and suffered daily abuse from his colleagues. In the end, he took out his frustrations on me by pushing me off the rooftop, killing me on the spot. After my death, my girlfriend, Emily Hayward, committed perjury for his sake. She claimed that after a prolonged period of staying home with nothing to do, I was in a bad mental state and leaped off on my own. The two of them profited off my death and became trending influencers, making it big. When I opened my eyes once more, I realized I was back to the day I purchased the lottery ticket.

My art studio caught fire. I risked my life to pull my boyfriend, Vincent Parcelle, out of the flames. Vincent wanted to rush back inside to save his first love, Tammy Reese, who was trapped inside. But I stopped him. The fire destroyed her face and left her legs amputated. Unable to face her disfigurement and disability, Tammy took her own life by overdosing on pills. Afterward, Vincent and I moved forward and got married. On our wedding night, he slit my throat without thinking twice. "If it weren't for you, Tammy wouldn't be dead. Go to hell and pay for your sins!" Only after dying did I realize—Vincent had hated me to the core ever since the fire. For some reason, I was reborn. Grateful that the heavens had given me another chance at life, I ran without looking back this time. To hell with love. I was determined to survive.

On my birthday, my boyfriend ditched his childhood friend's desperate call to be with me. Devastated by his rejection, she spiraled into depression and ended her life. Heartbroken, he proposed to me beside her body. "I've already lost Giselle. I can't lose you, too." I said yes, moved by his grief and sincerity. But on our wedding night, he turned on me, hacking me with a knife. "You vile woman! Giselle died because of you. Time to feel her pain!" As I bled out, the girl waltzed back, saying she'd faked her death to spook him. Overjoyed, he pointed at my corpse. "Thank God, you're alive. This wretched woman is gone, and we're free to be together." They looted my wealth for their lavish wedding and happy life. When my eyes snapped open again, I was back on that fateful birthday.

When my best friend and I realized we had been reborn and traveled back several decades, we locked eyes, collapsed into each other's arms, and sobbed, shouting that we wanted to break off our engagements. The entire neighborhood whispered that we had lost our minds. But only we knew the truth. In our past lives, this was the day everything was sealed: she married a battalion commander, Ned Stark, and I became the wife of a high school teacher, Robbie Stark. My husband betrayed me. For the sake of that pretentious whore, Scarlett Wheaton, he stole my university admission letter and let her take my place on campus. The world mocked me as a failure, and Robbie stood by in silence. After we married, every time he touched me, he would immediately write another love letter to Scarlett—atoning for his supposed guilt. "Scarlett, even if I can't be with you in this life, my soul will always belong to you alone." Even my own child despised me, calling me an ignorant village woman, urging me again and again to divorce so that his father could be with his "true love," Scarlett. And my best friend, Rachel Croft—born the daughter of a factory director—was tricked by her husband, Ned, under the pretense of buying a house. He drained her savings and her wages for twenty long years. It wasn't until she fell gravely ill and went to sell the house that she discovered the deed he had given her was a forgery. The real house—the one paid in full—was in Scarlett's name. One of Scarlett's dresses cost more than my friend's entire monthly salary. When Rachel begged to reclaim what rightfully belonged to her, she was met only with contempt from Ned and her child. "All you ever care about is money. You're nothing like Scarlett, who isn't materialistic at all. Your illness is retribution," Ned had said. "Exactly. Only someone as noble and kind as Scarlett deserves to be my mother!" her child had said. Rachel and I both spent our lives working ourselves to the bone, only to end with nothing—dying bitter and broken from the injustice. But this time, fate has given us another chance. I will go to university. Rachel will become a wealthy woman. This time, without us paving the way, those shameless men and that wretched woman think they can still live happily ever after? Dream on.