Psychological

I got bitten by a dog, went to get a rabies shot, and ran into my ex-boyfriend. On my inner thigh, there wasn’t just a bite mark; there was also a tattoo of his name. He let out a derisive snicker. “Still haven’t had it removed?” “Is my name really that unforgettable to you?”

I was never born to be harmless.

At three, I stabbed the young master next door in the eye with a hairpin, simply because he had peeped at my mother while she was bathing.

At five, I set fire to a theater, merely because I saw the troupe buying and selling children.

At ten, I secretly brought people with me and crippled the censor’s grandson.

Who told him to harass my elder sister in the street?

There were countless incidents like these… Later, I married a good man.

Everyone in his family was kind and decent, and I nearly died of boredom in the inner household.

When I was reborn on the day the Emperor granted marriages to my elder sister and me, I decisively swapped marriages with her.

In my previous life, less than two years after my sister married into the Duke’s Mansion, she passed away like a withered flower.

My sister had been reborn too.

With tears in her eyes, she said, “Second Sister, the Duke’s Mansion is a death trap! You can’t marry into it!” I was thrilled. “But… Sister, I was born a bad seed.”

When the matchmaker came to propose the marriage, she said Cen Dalang (Eldest Master Cen) of the Cen family had talent, while Erlang (Second Master) had looks.

“A perfect match for your two young ladies.”

“The eldest son for the eldest daughter, the second son for the second daughter.”

“With their older brother and sister looking after them, how could the younger ones ever have a bad life?”

In my last life, things were indeed just as the matchmaker had said.

I married Dalang, and my younger sister married Erlang (Second Master).

Dalang and I spent years cleaning up mess after mess for our younger siblings.

Until Dalang died saving Erlang (Second Master).

I thought he would resent them.

But instead, he looked at my plain, unremarkable face, tears in his eyes, and sighed bitterly.

“This life was far too worthless.”

“Was I not even worthy of having a beautiful wife?”

He passed away with that regret.

It struck me like a bolt from the blue.

So all those messes he had cleaned up-he had done it willingly.

Not only for his younger brother, but for my younger sister as well.

Now, reborn into this life,

as I listened to the matchmaker say those same words,

I merely replied calmly,

“Let’s forget it. Dalang has no looks, and Erlang (Second Master) has no talent. Neither of them is a good match.”

My Eldest Senior Sister was a brilliant talent, yet she died young, a victim of schemes and conspiracies.

My Little Junior Sister was charming and lovely, yet she died after being possessed by a Demon Creature and suffering endless torment.

Then there was me-the plain, unremarkable Second Senior Sister of the Sect. I never drew any attention, but I lived long enough.

Eventually, I became the Sect Ancestor, taking on countless disciples. I finally passed away peacefully of old age, surrounded by the weeping of my many students and their successors.

When I opened my eyes again, I had returned to my youth.

At that time, Eldest Senior Sister was already the Prodigy everyone looked up to, and Little Junior Sister had just joined the Sect.

The two of them hadn’t yet become bitter rivals over a man; they were still sisters who loved and cared for one another.

Looking at the two of them in their prime, I made a firm resolution:

I still need to keep my head down. As long as I lay low and survive long enough, the Magical Artifacts and immortal elixirs will all be mine eventually.

However, this time around, both Eldest Senior Sister and Little Junior Sister took a liking to visiting my place.

Eldest Senior Sister once asked me with a heavy heart,

“Second Junior Sister, he always says that Little Junior Sister is better than me. I know it’s not her fault, but I still feel a spark of jealousy. Am I truly that terrible?”

I replied, “Eldest Senior Sister, one thought leads to divinity, another to the demonic. Has he caused a heart demon to take root in you?”

Eldest Senior Sister’s expression turned solemn, and she cupped her hands toward me in respect.

“Thank you, Junior Sister. I have learned much from your words.”

She turned around and immediately broke off her engagement with her Fiancé.

Little Junior Sister also came to me to complain, looking lost.

“The Senior Brothers have all given me so many things. Sometimes I really can’t use them all, but I’m afraid of offending people, so I rotate through them every day. It’s much better here with you, Senior Sister; it’s always so peaceful. But don’t you find it a bit lonely?”

I hummed in agreement and gave a gentle answer.

“I don’t like letting too many people into my life. I think things are perfect just as they are.”

Little Junior Sister dithered for a moment, her eyes shimmering with envy.

Later on, she started becoming someone not to be trifled with, systematically removing a great many people from her life.

Ironically, those people were the ones who refused to let go.

My husband jumped from a building and died in a pool of blood.

The police quickly cordoned off the scene.

A few days later, the autopsy report came back: the cause of death was a massive intracranial hemorrhage, and his body bore numerous signs of a struggle.

The police told me he had committed suicide and that there was no killer. I didn’t believe them.

On the day my stepsister was murdered.

I told my dad and the police that I had gone to school to do homework, that I hadn’t been home, and that I really didn’t know what had happened.

But the truth was, I lied.

On a night of torrential rain, I ordered my girlfriend’s favorite milk tea and river snail rice noodles while she pulled an all-nighter.

However, even though the app showed the delivery had arrived at her location, my girlfriend still hadn’t marked it as received.

Just as I was about to call and check on her, the delivery rider sent me a photo through the app.

“Hey man, this is the right place, isn’t it?”

“That guy trying to pry the door open… that isn’t you, is it?”

At three in the morning, the funeral home’s Morgue was only supposed to have five registered bodies, yet I found a sixth, unregistered, nameless female corpse in locker number six.

A slip of paper was pressed against her chest with nothing but my name written on it.

Even more terrifying was the moment my hand brushed her wrist; I saw the last seven seconds of her life and heard her raspy, blood-choked voice whisper: “Shen Nian, don’t trust your father.”

That was the night I realized that sometimes, the dead don’t come to say goodbye-they come to reopen a case.

After getting married, I found out my husband had once loved an ex-girlfriend deeply.

On the eve of her wedding, that woman drove through the night and gave herself to him, just to say goodbye to her youth.

When I found out, my husband begged me not to expose it. “Otherwise, her whole life will be ruined.”

I can see the final moments of the deceased through their eyes, a gift that has helped the government solve countless cases.

Everything changed when the body of a drowned man was brought in.

Looking into his eyes, I saw him strangling me just before he died.

And on those hands, he was wearing the Jade Bracelet that had been buried with me.