Theme Of The Story Meaning

Out of the blue, my younger sister posted the result of her pregnancy test. The caption? "Thank you my dear brother-in-law for helping me when I needed help the most and fulfilling my dreams of becoming a mother!" Shocked and furious, I couldn't resist leaving a snide comment. "Congratulations. Maybe you can keep my husband too?" My husband's reaction? He blew up and dismissed me. "I just donated my seed to Cara! Don't make a scene, Barb!" Oh, I'll make a scene.

The powerful Will Hudson, Bardou City's untouchable kingmaker, was set to marry my sister. Everyone said he was a monster, a man broken in body and mind, that marrying him was no different from stepping into hell itself. My sister, Carrie Wheaton, wept as if her heart would break. I pulled her aside and said, "I'll marry him for you. But in return, you'll stay in the countryside and guard the safe buried beneath Mom's grave. For three years, you mustn't open it." She thought it held a fortune—billions, perhaps—and joy lit up her face. She agreed without hesitation. I watched her greedy expression twist with excitement and couldn't help the cold smile that rose within me. 'Carrie, guard it well. Let's see if you can handle the kind of fortune that can destroy you.'

Five years after we married, Reuben Slade wants to send me to his superior's bed. The first time, he says, "Lissy, I'll get the project once you have a few drinks with him." The second time, he says, "Sleep with him just once, Lissy. I'll be free of debt once you do." He guarantees it won't happen again, but he goes back on his word. "Maybe you should give him a child, Lissy. He'll promote me to general manager once you do." The day Reuben is promoted to general manager, I divorce him and marry his superior.

My husband died in a fire trying to save me, leaving behind a mountain of debt and a newborn child. I worked hard to pay off the debt while raising the child, only to unintentionally discover that my husband hadn’t died at all. Instead, he was sleeping with my cousin. “Honey, you’re so clever. You transferred all the company funds and faked your death, leaving that stupid wife of yours to shoulder all the debt. “She’s so clueless that she doesn’t even realize the son she’s raising isn’t hers, that I swapped him out. Once she’s done paying off the debts, the three of us can live a great life together.” I silently sneered, pretending I knew nothing, and continued to raise the child. Twenty years later, my son returned home after studying abroad. The company went public in New York. On the day of the IPO, my cousin appeared arm in arm with my husband, holding a paternity test. “Claire, your husband never died. We’ve been together all these years. Alex is my son. Now that you’ve been his mother for so long, isn’t it time to return him to me?” My husband also presented a divorce agreement. “I built this company from scratch. It’s premarital property. Sign the divorce papers, walk away with nothing, and you can leave now.” I smiled and told him, “I’ve prepared a special gift for you too. I wonder if you’ll like it."

I have claustrophobia, yet Luther Jansen abandons me in a stopped elevator so he can bring some flu medicine to his assistant. I ask for a divorce after that. He signs the papers without hesitation and laughs about it with his friends. "She's just throwing a tantrum—her parents are dead, so there's no way she'll leave me. "Besides, there's a 30-day cooling-off period for divorces, right? I'll generously let this matter slide once she regrets this, and she'll be back." The following day, he shares an intimate photo of himself with his assistant. "I want to record every moment of your shyness." I count the days until I'm free. Then, I calmly pack my stuff and make a call. "Can you buy me a flight ticket to Nanderton, Uncle David?"

Two years ago, as a graduate of Werewolf Medical School, I volunteered to go to the most remote and poorest pack, as it had always been my dream to help werewolf patients in need. I heard from my teacher that the werewolves in the Rogue Pack were the poorest and that their living conditions were the worst. Most of the werewolves there were old and weak, so I volunteered to go to that pack as soon as I graduated. After I arrived, I helped them build an infirmary and even set up a blood station. Every year, I led them in voluntary blood donations. But one time—right after I had taken a short break following a blood donation—they turned on me. They slandered me, calling me a selfish and heartless healer. Worse still, they accused me of faking illness, claiming I was lying comfortably in bed while patients were dying—refusing to lift a finger to save them. Not only that, they stormed into the infirmary, seized all my herbs and equipment, and completely trashed the place I had built for them with my own hands. Recalling the days I had spent day and night healing them—only to see my infirmary destroyed and my dream shattered—I let out a bitter smile. I picked up the phone and called the dean of my home pack. "I'm ready to return," I said. "I want to serve the patients in our own pack." Then, without a trace of regret, I left that place behind. However, after I gave up, the whole pack regretted it and begged me to return.

My boss gives me 200 thousand dollars in cash so I can pay his workers their salaries. I leave the house to buy some envelopes to put the money in, but that's when my father lends the money to our neighbor so they can buy a house. I question him about it, but he says I know nothing about forging relationships. Even my mother and brother blame me for not keeping my things properly—they say I'm dumb for leaving money lying around when I know my father likes to lend money to others. Later, my boss fires me but doesn't call the cops. All he wants is for me to repay him. To do so, my father finds me a high-paying job. It's only when I get there that I realize I'm supposed to be an old man's housekeeper. On my first day there, he violates me. I want to call the cops, but my father tells me to be forgiving of him. After that, the old man's daughter thinks I seduced her father and has me beaten to death. When I open my eyes again, I'm back to the day my father lent money to our neighbor.

Lesley Hummer, my husband's sister, lies to me about being unable to conceive. She wants me to help her produce a child. To my shock and horror, my husband and mother-in-law agree with her! I refuse to give in, so they drug me and force me into bed with my her husband. When the pregnancy comes to term, I give birth to a daughter. My husband and his family go nuts because it's not a boy. They kill the baby before my very eyes! They even take away all my organs that can be exchanged for money. Then, they continue searching for a surrogate for Lesley. When I open my eyes again, I'm back to the day Lesley kneeled before me to beg me.

I was the Peacock Princess. On the day I came of age, suitors from every corner of the clan gathered, all eager to win my hand. I chose Silvan, the noble Green Peacock, believing him to be the finest of them all. But after our marriage, I gave birth to a third-tier White Peacock. When Silvan saw the child, his face twisted with fury. He snatched the baby from my arms, killing it in one brutal motion. In his rage, he attacked me, ripping me apart from neck to feather, and tossed my remains to the wild beasts for their feast. Meanwhile, my elder sister, who married a second-tier Blue Peacock, gave birth to a rare and magnificent Purple Peacock. Her husband was crowned the new King of All Birds because of their child. But when I opened my eyes again, I found myself back on the day I had first chosen Silvan. This time, he publicly rejected me, turning to my sister instead, convinced that marrying her would bring him the coveted Purple Peacock. I knew then that he had also been reborn. He believed he could change his fate and father a Purple Peacock with her. But in this lifetime, he wouldn't even be able to produce the humblest Black Peacock.

In my dormitory, there was a poor student. With all the good intentions in the world, my roommates and I were eager to help her, not realizing how much our help would cost. She wasn't impressed by the hairdryer we offered, insisting on borrowing a branded one instead. The skincare products we gave her? They were applied to her feet. And, as if that wasn't enough, she specifically demanded luxury face cream. One day, I lent her my tablet to look up some information, and to my surprise, she secretly opened up my gaming app, spent all the diamonds and reward tickets I had saved for half a year, and left me empty-handed. When I asked her to pay me back, she turned the tables and posted a public message online, accusing me. "I'm just a poor student from the countryside, never played games before. Are the materials in the game really worth this much?" Before I knew it, the comment section was flooded with criticisms of me. In a fit of frustration, I fired back with a post of my own, throwing her into the spotlight. "Well, I suppose you've never tasted the bitterness of being cyberbullied, have you?"