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In my previous life, my sister was adopted by a wealthy family while I was taken in by janitors. The wealthy family was full of internal strife–distant parents and a bullying brother–leaving her eventually disinherited and penniless. My family, however, was harmonious, and the wealthy young master even fell in love with me, a poor innocent flower, like something straight out of a television drama. My sister killed me out of resentment, and we both returned to the day of our adoption. This time, she rushed into the janitor’s arms first: “Christine, this time, I’ll be the drama’s leading lady.”
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My sister and I were reborn to the day we were adopted from the orphanage. Two families stood in the director’s office–the Brook Family and the Roland Family. The three members of the Brook Family were impeccably dressed. The man wore a tailored suit, the woman dripped with jewelry. Their only son, Hardy, wore a high school uniform with globally limited–edition designer sneakers.
This was Mistwood’s most prestigious Brook Family. Jason was a business tycoon whose enterprises contributed the largest tax revenue in Mistwood, while Rita was a socialite who frequently appeared at jewelry auctions and charity galas, mingling with celebrities. Their son Hardy was known as the golden boy of Mistwood.
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In contrast, the Roland Family looked shabby. Both spouses had calluses from manual labor, and though they’d clearly worn their best clothes, sweat stains remained. According to the director, both worked at Mistwood High–the husband as a janitor, the wife as a cleaner.
In my previous life, my sister Elva had chosen the Brook Family without hesitation. But now, almost afraid of being left behind, she flung herself into the cleaner’s arms: “Mom, take me with you! I want to be your daughter!”
“From now on, my name is Elva!” As my sister exclaimed excitedly, I walked toward the Brook Family. With our choices made, we were each taken away by our new families.
As we left the orphanage, I overheard the director muttering strangely to herself: “How odd. Elva has always been competitive and picky. Before, she wouldn’t even glance at potential parents who dressed modestly.”
“Now when a truly wealthy family comes, she doesn’t choose them?”
The director didn’t understand why. But I did.
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In my previous life, my sister had schemed to be adopted by the Brook Family first, becoming Elva. She thought a princess–like life awaited her. Not to mention having someone like Hardy as her brother. After all, a wealthy young master and his adopted sister was the most common pairing in romance novels–living
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under the same roof often led to feelings developing through daily interactions.
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However, Elva never imagined that Hardy wouldn’t show any brotherly tenderness. On the contrary, he despised her: “I hate opportunistic people more than anything. Don’t think I can’t see through you, you manipulative green tea bitch. You’re just after our money, aren’t you?”
At home, Hardy tormented Elva. At school, he led his followers in bullying her. Even when the Brook parents knew about it, they only offered half–hearted reprimands. They had no real affection for Elva; they’d only adopted her because a fortune. teller told Jason that adopting a daughter would bring him. good fortune for the next ten years of his life cycle. Between their adopted daughter and biological son, the Brook parents naturally favored their son.
While Hardy bullied Elva, he was remarkably kind to me, adopted by the Roland Family. He saw how I earned. scholarships, maintained top grades, attended school during the day, and helped my mother clean at night–living a difficult life without complaint.
“That Zhou Shichu girl, she’s really something,” he’d say. Just like in those cheesy dramas, the rebellious rich boy fell for the resilient poor innocent girl.
Later, when the Brook parents died, Hardy brought in a team of lawyers during the inheritance division. Elva was completely outmaneuvered, left disinherited and penniless, without a cent to her name. A few months later, Hardy married me. At our
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wedding, he publicly declared: “Zhou Shichu, from now on, what’s mine is yours.”
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Unfortunately, I never got to enjoy Hardy’s wealth. A few days later, Elva, driven to desperation and madness, killed me in a car crash.
In this new life, my sister unhesitatingly chose the Roland Family. Though they lacked vast wealth, there was no scheming or manipulation–she could enjoy her parents‘ wholehearted love and grow up in a happy family. Her background would earn the wealthy young master’s sympathy and protection, eventually leading to a fairy–tale wedding.
She smiled at me and said: “Sister, this time, I’ll be the stereotypical drama heroine.”
“You should get a taste of everything I went through.”
