Family Conflict

I met someone named Chen Ye.

Everyone says he is loyal, kind, and a rare good person in this world.

But I think he is vulgar, hypocritical, and the most despicable and shameless scoundrel in the world.

Yet I kind of like him.

On a rainy night, in what used to be my home, the police discovered a decaying female corpse.

The woman’s name was Song Ling.

She was my mother’s best friend.

My grandmother died in a car accident. My father accepted 600,000 yuan from the perpetrator and became the envy of everyone in the village.

But outside the crematorium, I personally overheard the perpetrator laughing as he made a phone call: “600,000 settled it, pretty cost-effective. Don’t worry, our secret will never be revealed.”

On the day of the school forum’s campus belle contest, my sister won over the Beijing Circle Little Princess Jiang Tingrou by a narrow margin of a few votes.

Everyone thought Jiang Tingrou would be angry, but instead, she took the initiative to befriend my sister and invited her to her own birthday party.

On Jiang Tingrou’s birthday, my sister fell from the top-floor suite of the hotel and died instantly. At the time of her death, she was wearing nothing but disheveled underwear.

Jiang Tingrou, still shaken, cried to the police and the media: “I wanted to be friends with her, but she seduced my boyfriend. When I found out, she tried to escape and ended up falling from upstairs.”

For a time, the internet was flooded with abuse directed at my sister, calling her heartless and saying she deserved her fate.

Five years later, Jiang Tingrou is about to marry the president of Gu Group, happily preparing for her wedding.

She no longer thinks of my sister; to her, she was nothing more than an ant crushed underfoot.

But what Jiang Tingrou doesn’t know is that the Butler, Fitness Coach, Wedding Dress Designer, and countless other “ants” she looks down upon are quietly brewing a storm of revenge.

When I was five years old, my mother and I died in a car accident.

The people who orchestrated the accident were my father and my mother’s best friend.

After receiving two insurance payouts, they got married and lived happily together as a family.

Occasionally, That Woman would get scared: “The mother and daughter who died-won’t they turn into Vengeful Ghosts and come back to take revenge on me?”

My father would laugh at her for being superstitious.

But they didn’t know-I wasn’t dead.

And the me who returned alive for revenge would be far more terrifying than any Vengeful Ghost.

My husband had an affair with the Married Woman downstairs.

I hid in the hallway, smoking with the Married Woman’s husband.

We didn’t dare return until they’d finished.

Later, they became even more brazen.

The Married Woman’s husband said, “I’m going to catch them in the act. What about you?”

I kept nibbling on my skewer, unconcerned.

“You go catch them, I’ll come too!”

Seven years after marrying the devoted second male lead, she came back.

She had quarreled with the male lead and stood in the rain at my doorstep:

“Brother Meng, I have nowhere else to go.”

My usually gentle and steady husband, Meng Heshu, lost his temper:

“I’ll go settle this with him!”

Even my seven-year-old son, Meng Bai, waved his fists:

“Fairy, don’t cry. When I grow up, I’ll marry you.”

While they all scrambled to cheer her up,

I was trapped on a fishing boat by a sudden downpour – I had gone out to buy river fish.

The boatman was shouting toward the shore, trying to attract passengers:

“Anyone else going to Qingzhou?”

I looked down at my basket – I had just bought three cutlassfish and had one tael of silver left.

I handed a tael of silver to the boatman and asked:

“How far can I get with one tael of silver?”

After Grandfather passed away, I traveled to the Capital to seek refuge with my Fiancé.

I had heard that he was proud and aloof, already enamored with someone else, and looked down upon me, his country-bred fiancée.

Anxious all the way, I only realized upon meeting him that the rumors were false.

He was clearly upright and self-disciplined, gentle in temperament, and not only handsome but also cherished me deeply.

I married him with peace of mind.

Three months after our wedding, his nephew, who had just returned to the Capital from his studies, came to pay his respects and stared at me in a daze.

Later, I happened to witness him confronting my Husband at our door, his face full of disbelief.

“Second Uncle! How could you impersonate me and marry my Fiancée?”

I livestream my mom dancing the Soul Summoning Dance.

Netizens rush to like and comment.

Only one bullet comment says: [Your mom is dancing the Soul Summoning Dance. If she dances for seven days straight, she can exchange a life.]

My hand holding the phone trembles.

Today is the seventh day.

Five years after my boyfriend’s death, I met a man in an interview who looked exactly like him.

When work was over, I cornered him in the conference room: “Since you’re not dead, why haven’t you contacted me in these five years?”

He straightened his tie, his smile both flippant and distant: “This kind of pick-up line is a bit cliché, Miss Meng. Why not just offer yourself directly?”

I ignored him and reached out, touching a slight bump behind his ear.

He froze instantly.

I laughed: “What’s wrong? You look alike, and now even your sensitive spots are the same?”