Story Pages

As the owner of a small private business, I had never been stingy with my employees. Having made a million in profit, I distributed $850,000 to them. I believed this would win people’s hearts. I never expected it would lead to being reported by my own employees. "We have received an anonymous tip-off from your company’s employees alleging arbitrary wage deductions and unfair profit distribution. The report further states that company discipline is disorganized and that employees are being compelled to work overtime, constituting a serious violation of labor laws. Immediate corrective action is hereby required, along with a fine of $500,000." Fine. Since they were so dissatisfied with my policies, then we would do things by the book—by the rules every other company followed. I would keep every last cent of this one million in profit.

Mom has extreme mania. Dad was murdered when I was eight, and I went blind while trying to save Mom. I became her only family and weakness. Anyone who makes fun of me for being blind has their eyes gouged out; anyone who disrespects me is sliced and diced before being fed to the dogs. Later, Mom turns into a she-devil with a hundred-billion-dollar net worth. Everyone in Gristport fears her, but she treats me like a princess. The whole city knows not to offend Eleanor Heinrich's daughter. She scours the world for the best optometrists to treat my eyes. On the day I regain my vision, I hear about Mom finding her birth daughter. She says, "You'll soon have a sister who loves you very much, Sienna." I hear that my sister has been through a lot since childhood and is introverted. I prepare many gifts for her, even wanting to give her the pendant Dad gave me. Yet she instructs her people to take me to a deserted roof. "You're nothing but a faker who stole my place in life! I'm going to slice your tongue—let's see how you can continue lying to Mom when you can't speak!" She shatters the pendant, gouges my eyeballs out, slashes my tongue, and has several men torment me to death. Lastly, she includes my eyeballs as decorations in a bouquet and brings it to Mom. "This is a gift I've prepared for your birthday, Mom. Do you like it?"

My younger brother had opened a high-end beauty salon, so I took my mother there for a facial. We picked the most expensive package, but the moment the mask was applied, Mom's face began to burn. When we peeled it off, her entire face was covered in rashes. I called for the director, but she looked impatient. "Oh, that's just a normal detox reaction." I was stunned. "Her face is practically ruined! What products are you even using?" "Ruined?" She flared up like someone had stepped on her tail. "Your mom's skin is just too bad to handle premium nutrients! Once our products are opened, they're non-refundable—got it?" I pointed to the brochure. "It says right here—'gentle and non-irritating, full refund if any adverse reaction occurs.' Is this how Stellan Fallow taught you to run a business?" She crossed her arms and lifted her chin high. "I am the boss! You and your mother look broke as hell—clearly here to mooch a free treatment. Now that it didn't work, you're trying to scam us for money? "Let me tell you something—this set costs 38 thousand, and with my emotional damages and lost wages, that's a total of 100 thousand. If you don't pay up today, I'll have the police take you both in!" A hundred thousand for a product that ruined someone's face? It was no wonder Stellan suddenly wanted to open a salon—it turned out he and his girlfriend were running a scam together! I was about to call Stellan, but before I could, she hit the video dial first. "Bubby, get over here—two broke idiots tried to freeload a treatment and now they're trying to shake us down for money!"

After I dropped out of school, my parents didn't pressure me to do anything. But Nicole Hicks kept calling nonstop. She was my boyfriend's childhood friend who had established a reputation as a genius. I was too busy helping out in the fields, growing vegetables, and splashing around in the creek, living my best carefree life. Writing code wasn't even on my mind. In my past life, she had turned in a project just one day before I did. Her codes were exactly the same as mine. Everyone called me a fraud and said I had stolen it. I tried to explain, but no one believed me. Later, she even did a livestream, accusing me online of being a school bully. People went wild. They didn't just come for me—they went after my whole family. Some obsessed troll chased my parents in a car, and they died in a crash. I couldn't take it anymore. I jumped off a high-rise, my eyes still wide open, refusing to accept the way it all ended. Even in my last moment, I couldn't figure it out. That code was mine. My hard work. So how did she manage to post it before me? When I opened my eyes again, I was back, right before everything fell apart.

My father-in-law, George Lane, suffered from a brain aneurysm and fell onto the ground. The floor was covered in his blood. I calmly picked up a mop and wiped the floor clean. As his daughter-in-law, I gave up on saving him within the most critical time. In my last life, I was the first person who found out that George was injured. I immediately got an ambulance and sent him to the hospital. Before the surgery, the hospital required his immediate family member to sign off the consent form. However, when I asked my husband, Brian Lane to come to the hospital to sign that document, he thought that I was acting out of jealousy because he was spending time with his first-love. He thought I was making an excuse to get him home, so he refused to go to the hospital. In the end, George passed away as he did not receive the treatment on time. Brian did not manage to see George for the last time, and he blamed it all on me. He then hacked me to death. “It’s your fault! My dad was so old, and you didn’t take good care of him as a daughter-in-law! Since you’re not doing your part when he’s alive, then you should continue your duties as a daughter-in-law in hell!” When I opened my eyes, I found myself on the day when George died again.

I'm reincarnated a week before the college entrance exam. Despite being the soon-to-be top scorer, I stab my eye with a syringe. In my past life, Marianne Quentin, my boyfriend Lance Russell's childhood friend, reported me for cheating off her during the final mock exam. The teacher compared our papers and found that my essay was identical to hers. He harshly criticized me and warned me not to repeat my mistake. However, Marianne reported me for copying her answers again during the math exam. Once again, my answers were found to be identical to hers. The teacher scolded me for being incorrigible and sent me home to reflect on my actions. I couldn't understand what had happened. Clearly, I'd never cheated, but my answers were nearly identical to Marianne's, whether in writing and language or in math. As the SAT exam loomed over me, I could only suppress my doubts as I stepped into the exam hall. I finished the writing paper and thought I was safe. However, Marianne stepped out and accused me of cheating again. I tried to defend myself, yet the answers on my paper were identical to hers. In the end, I was disqualified, kicked out of the exam hall, and banned from taking any exams in the next two years—just because I "cheated". I succumbed to despair and leaped from the rooftop. When I open my eyes again, I'm back to one week before the SAT.

After winning 800 thousand dollars, the first thing I did was rush to the hospital to pay for my daughter's surgery and treatment. Then, out of nowhere, a colleague called. "There's an extremely urgent situation at the company. You need to come back and handle it right now!" My husband took the bank card from my hand and, with thoughtful understanding, said, "Tell me the PIN. I'll go pay for Alicia's surgery. You head back to the company and focus on work." In my past life, I trusted him without hesitation and hurried back to the office. Before my daughter could even make it into surgery, I received a police summons instead. It turned out my husband had conspired with my colleague to file a report against me, pinning the crime of embezzling company funds—money my colleague had actually stolen—on me. With no money for treatment, my daughter died in the hospital. My parents, shattered by grief, suffered heart attacks and passed away. I ended my own life in prison, consumed by bitterness and regret. After death, my soul drifted to where my husband was vacationing abroad. I heard him say to my colleague with my own ears, "That stupid woman wins such a huge jackpot and only knows how to waste it on that worthless daughter's medical bills, dragging me into a life of hardship! "Now their whole family's deaths have bought us endless wealth and luxury. Consider it that idiot woman's compensation to me. Hahaha!" When I opened my eyes again, I had returned to the very moment my husband took the bank card from my hand. This time, I still told him the transfer PIN.

While visiting a property development with my fiancé to buy our first home, I ran into a two-faced real estate agent.   She showered my fiancé with compliments, praising him for being young and successful enough to afford a Rolls-Royce.   Then, she suggested I was a fake socialite with a knockoff designer bag, implying that I was just using my charms to snag a free house.   When she found out the property was meant to be a marital home, her voice grew loud enough for everyone nearby to hear.   “I just think the sugar daddy who bought you those two properties last time treated you pretty well!” “Oh, wait. Miss Gwen, don’t you have several sugar daddies? Do they all know about each other?”   I chuckled. What she didn’t know was that my “sugar daddies” were my godfathers and I really was a socialite.   The kicker, though, was that my so-called wealthy fiancé wasn’t rich at all. In fact, he was just a scholarship student I had been financially supporting!

The fifth year of my marriage to Silas marked a turning point I would never forget. Our son, Yael, was kidnapped. The ransom was set at ten million dollars, an insignificant amount for Silas, yet his response chilled me to the core. “No rush. A Gardner needs to experience some hardships to grow.” Ten million meant nothing to him, but Yael’s life meant everything to me. I dropped to my knees, tears streaming down my face, and begged him relentlessly, pleading for Yael to be brought home as soon as possible. Silas, however, remained unmoved. Three days later, Yael was returned to us, but the cheerful boy I knew was gone. He had been so traumatized that he could not speak. Far from showing concern, Silas coldly remarked, “Yuna said Yael keeps telling everyone at school she’s a fatherless child. Let’s see how he spreads lies now.” His words cut through me like a knife. I picked Yael up in my arms and whispered softly in his ear, “Don’t be afraid, Yael. Mommy will take you away from here.”

On the day of Lucas' engagement, he managed to get a few lackeys to keep me occupied, and by the time I stepped out the police station, done with questioning, it was already dark outside. Arriving home, I stood there on the doorstep and eavesdropped on Lucas and his friends talking about me. "I was afraid she'd cause trouble, so I got her to spend the whole day at the police station. I made sure that everything would be set in stone by the time she got out." Shaking my head with a bitter laugh, I blocked all of Lucas' contacts and went overseas without any hesitation. That night, Lucas lost all his composure, kicking over a table and smashing a bottle of liquor, sending glass shards flying all over the floor. "She's just throwing a tantrum because she's jealous… She'll come back once she gets over it…" What he didn't realize, then, was that this wasn't just a fit of anger or a petty tantrum. This time, I truly didn't want him anymore.