The year I turned four, my biological parents finally found me and brought me home. That was the first time a bodyguard ever escorted me to that magnificent, palace-like mansion on the hill. The fake heiress, wearing an exquisite tutu dress and hair clips worth thousands of dollars, walked up to me and asked, "Are you the cleaning lady's daughter?" So innocent. So pure. According to the personality my adoptive parents had beaten into me, I should have been terrified by this grand spectacle, completely at a loss for what to do. But... sorry, sweetheart. I've been reborn this time. 1 I opened my eyes to see the scenery blurring past the car window. Besides my tiny body curled up in the plush leather captain's chair, the only other person in the luxury SUV was the bodyguard driving, dressed in a black suit and sunglasses. My eyes stared blankly out the window. There was no childlike innocence in them, just a hint of boredom. I really couldn't understand why a chance at rebirth was given to me—someone who had absolutely no desire to live. Hmm... I racked my brain. How did my past life end? Was it... suicide? Yeah, I think so. The car sped along, following the exact trajectory of my past life, heading straight toward the place that would become my lifelong prison. The mansion dripped with opulence. Only the absolute elite of high society had the right to live in a neighborhood like this. Inside this house lived the picture-perfect family of four: a father who was a powerful, billionaire CEO; a mother who was a beautiful, elegant socialite; an older brother who was gentle, handsome, and fiercely protective of his sibling; and an innocent, obedient little sister who was the center of everyone's universe. The family doted on their youngest daughter so much that they couldn't bear to send her to preschool until she was four. But the irony was, during her mandatory pre-enrollment physical, a routine blood test shocked them to their core. The apple of their eye, the precious darling they had loved and spoiled for four years, wasn't their biological child! Their real daughter had been switched at birth and had spent the last four years living in a rundown, impoverished trailer park on the outskirts of the city. Though it was hard to accept, the wealthy parents immediately brought their biological daughter back from the trailer park. But they could never have predicted that one day, they would look at this daughter they brought home and say, "You're so vicious. I wish you had just died out there!" all to protect the fake heiress. That older brother, who was always so warm and gentle to everyone else, would step in front of the fake heiress, glaring at his own biological sister with guarded eyes, warning her, "You need to learn when to let things go." Even my fiancé, whom I had barely met a few times since our arranged engagement as children, would look at me with nothing but disgust. From the moment I was brought back, everyone thought the fake heiress was better, sweeter, and more pitiful. The true heiress, supposedly returned to a life of wealth, was forever trapped in a life of being compared, despised, and framed. Desperate for love, only to be destroyed by it. I felt something warm and wet on my cheek. Tears. But I didn't feel any sadness at all? I forced my slow, numb brain to think. After a moment, I could only curse this four-year-old body for being so dramatic. Then I remembered a voice echoing in my ear just before the darkness consumed me in my past life: "Plot armor... cannot be fought..." Cannot be fought? If it can't be fought, then why let me be reborn? Did someone not get enough entertainment watching me act like a pathetic, trapped animal in my past life? Or did they think my past life wasn't enough of a joke? The car was dead silent. No one was going to give me an answer. 2 I was escorted into the mansion. Arthur and Victoria were already waiting on the plush sofas, with nine-year-old Liam sitting beside them. Perhaps it simply hadn't crossed their minds, but no one had thought to bring me a clean set of clothes for the ride. I was still wearing the filthy, oversized t-shirt I had inherited from my adoptive cousin, and a pair of dirty, unglued flip-flops on my feet. My dull, yellowish hair was matted into small clumps. I didn't miss the flash of surprise and complex emotions in their eyes. I didn't know if they were disgusted by my clothes or by me. "Mommy~" From the top of the grand spiral staircase, a little girl in a fluffy tutu, her slightly curly hair pinned back with sparkling clips, walked down step by step. A nanny trailed closely behind her. Her dress really was beautiful. Bright colors, delicate embroidery—little bunnies and flowers. Look! In an instant, she drew everyone's attention. I have to admit, in my past life, I secretly envied Chloe. Even while ridiculously putting on airs as the "true heiress," I envied her. Her parents loved her; they switched me out just so she could have a good life. My parents loved her too; until the day I died, barely anyone knew she was a fake. My brother loved her, constantly taking her side. Everyone who was supposed to be mine loved her... I was the only one who hated her. 3 My name is Harper. Before my biological parents found me, my name was Lily, named after the lilies that grew near the trailer park. It was a name chosen out of convenience, leaving me with no choice. Later, Arthur changed my name to Harper. I was so happy then, feeling like a pearl finally wiped clean of dust, picked up from a pile of mud. It was only later I realized that it wasn't the meaning that mattered, but the fact that it sounded just like my old name. Wherever I went, I was just an afterthought. My lifelong nemesis was named Chloe. A name Arthur and Victoria had chosen together, filled with beautiful wishes and expectations. Everything she had, before and after, was originally meant to be mine. She was manipulative and calculating, with a disguise so clumsy you could see right through it, but I still couldn't beat her. The ending was always my defeat. I didn't want to fight anymore. I was tired. I could no longer find any joy in the tiny scraps of attention they threw my way. "Chloe!" Victoria instinctively stood up from the sofa and walked toward her. But then, remembering something, she stopped, shooting a complicated look at the nanny behind Chloe. The nanny awkwardly lowered her head. Chloe walked toward me. Like natural-born enemies, she noticed me immediately. Or maybe my outfit was just that eye-catching among these rich people. I looked like a little beggar; even the nanny behind her was dressed better than me. She rubbed her eyes, which were slightly red from crying, and her tone was innocent: "Who are you? Are you the cleaning lady's daughter?" The exact same words. Arthur and the others hadn't even reacted yet. Everyone in the room watched us like spectators at a play. What did I do in my past life? Oh, right. In my past life, I was so terrified I plopped right down on the floor. Amidst my panic, I couldn't help but think about how soft the floor was, covered in a beautiful rug, softer than the sand after high tide. First impressions are crucial. Chloe had a massive advantage. From our very first meeting in my past life, I lost completely and utterly. She was pale, chubby, and adorable. I was sallow, emaciated, and pathetic—the kind of kid people instinctively shy away from. Tears started rolling down my cheeks. My voice was small and timid: "Did my mommy sell me here? She said if I wasn't good, she would sell me." "Lily was a good girl." I choked back my sobs, trying my best to present a terrified but brave little victim to the audience. Chloe loved using this trick. It instantly garnered everyone's sympathy, making it seem like she was the most pitiful person in the world. In my past life, I despised it, but now, I realized it was actually quite fun to play. She wasn't actually that smart, and her tricks weren't that clever. She just relied on that so-called... plot armor to get mindless favoritism along the way. I had suffered so much injustice because of it. Now, I wanted her to taste it for herself. Fight fire with fire, right? From the sofa, I heard Victoria's heartbroken sobs. I thought with self-loathing, is she really that sad? Could she guess that one day she would become one of the final straws that broke me? Forcing me to watch as Chloe slowly claimed everything that was mine. I looked at Chloe standing in front of me. Her focus seemed entirely on me. A hint of a smile flashed across her lips. My pitiful state amused her. Like a princess, she looked down from her pedestal at me, thinner and smaller than her, and said as if bestowing a grand favor: "You're so pitiful. I'll ask my mommy later, you can be my little maid from now on." I laughed internally at her clownish behavior, waiting for the real authority figure to arrive. 4 "Nonsense!" An elegant, regal woman in her sixties walked through the front door, her assistant trailing behind carrying a briefcase. The moment she spoke, the grand hall fell dead silent. Even Victoria stopped sobbing. "Grandma~" Chloe called out sweetly, lifting her tutu and jogging over. It was obvious she was heavily favored by the matriarch. But to her dismay, the grandmother she adored walked right past her and crouched down in front of the little beggar. Grandma stroked my dry, yellowish hair, her smile incredibly kind: "What's your name, sweetheart?" I dropped the act, my gaze perfectly calm. "My name is Lily." I pointed at Chloe, who was standing a few steps away: "Did you bring me here to be her little maid?" I instantly started crying as if I had been terribly wronged: "Can I say no? I don't want to be someone's little maid." "The money my mommy sold me for... I'll pay you back double when I grow up." I couldn't help but let out a little sob. In my past life, Grandma was the only one immune to Chloe's plot armor. She was also the only one who paid attention to my growth, noticed my progress, and praised me. Of course! I wasn't narcissistic enough to think I could defeat Chloe's plot armor. But Grandma was someone who valued family bloodlines and interests above all else. She would spoil you because you were of the family's blood, and she would abandon you if you weren't. To hold onto that single source of attention, I worked desperately hard to grow into the person she wanted me to be. Even then, I still couldn't outweigh Chloe in everyone's hearts, and I still fell into Chloe's poorly constructed traps. I think, in the end, Grandma was disappointed too... "Oh, sweetheart, Grandma would never make you a little maid. Do you know who you are? You're Grandma's real granddaughter, the little princess of our family!" she declared solemnly. This was said to me, but it was meant for everyone in the living room. "Grandma! Waah~ Chloe is your granddaughter!" Chloe ran over and threw her arms around Grandma. The assistant quickly pulled her away, and she struggled, crying even more hysterically. Victoria covered her mouth, tears streaming down her face, looking absolutely heartbroken. Grandma stood up, took my hand, and led me to the sofa. "Lily is a child of our family. The DNA test results show a 99% match." The assistant let go of Chloe and pulled the DNA report from the briefcase. Chloe took the opportunity to run to Victoria, who hugged her tightly, crying in distress. I felt absolutely nothing. In my past life, scenes like this played out constantly, and the only result was resentment toward me. They would tell me to be more accommodating, saying Chloe was so pitiful, why couldn't I be more generous? Basically, they resented me for being their biological daughter, for getting in the way of their deep mother-daughter bond with Chloe. "Our family's flesh and blood has been wandering out there for four years. The mix-up at the hospital... I suspect there was foul play. If it was an accident, there's nothing we can do. But if it was intentional, our family won't be made a fool of." She glanced at Chloe, who was shrinking back. "Especially since Lily suffered so much out there in Chloe's place. I don't care about scandals. Pick a good day and announce this to the public. Let Lily reclaim her identity as soon as possible. "Arthur, you're the father. It's your decision." The man sitting on the sofa, who had been silent the whole time, nodded, his stern expression unchanged. He glanced at his wife: "Fine. I'll have someone handle it in the next few days. During this time, let Li... Harper rest and recover at home. "As for Chloe..." Grandma cut him off before he could finish: "It's not that our family can't afford to raise another child, but it makes things awkward for both Harper and Chloe. Chloe has taken Harper's place for all these years, enjoying everything that was meant for her. It's time she went back to where she belongs." "We don't know yet if the adoptive parents did anything malicious back then. Regardless, the child is innocent. Our family isn't heartless. We'll set up a trust fund for Chloe, enough for her to live comfortably for the rest of her life." She turned her head and gave me a decisive look. "While she's still young, it's better to get things back on track." In Victoria's arms, Chloe sort of understood what was happening—they were sending her away. She cried and screamed, begging Daddy and Mommy not to abandon her, promising she would be a good girl and eat all her vegetables. Liam stood nearby, gently patting her back to comfort her. I stared at the dirty flip-flops on my feet, feeling no anticipation. I already knew how this farce would end. Victoria couldn't handle Chloe's hysterical crying and pleading. Arthur, being the deeply devoted husband, naturally deferred to his wife's wishes. In the end, Chloe stayed. It wasn't even that difficult. We lived together under the guise of being fraternal twins. On paper, one was the eldest daughter of the family, and the other was the second daughter. Victoria looked at me with guilt, then looked down reluctantly at Chloe in her arms. "Mom, why don't we... keep Chloe? I've raised her with my own two hands for four years. "That's over a thousand days of mother-daughter love. I didn't know Chloe... wasn't my daughter. I always thought she was mine. I gave her the absolute best... "This whole thing was a terrible mistake, but it means Chloe was meant to be with us. Our family can certainly afford to raise another child. "Harper... needs time to adapt anyway. Wouldn't it be better if she had Chloe as a companion?" I blinked, wanting to scoff. She's the daughter you raised with your own two hands for four years. But what about me? Your biological daughter. I not only missed out on your meticulous care, I suffered for four years in someone else's place. And now, I have to be considerate of your hard work? I have to generously accept you continuing to raise the thief who stole my life? In what world is that fair?! I tugged lightly at Grandma's skirt. She looked down at me, pausing before she could respond to Victoria. "I'm hot," I said. Everyone turned to look at me. It was August or September, the height of summer. The mansion's central AC was set to a perfect temperature, but I was wearing a torn, fleece-lined winter shirt with sleeves that were too long. Suffice to say, after Chloe's biological parents swapped us, they never bought me a single piece of clothing. I lived in hand-me-downs from relatives—didn't matter if they fit, didn't matter if they were for a boy or a girl. As long as I wasn't naked. The assistant heard me say I was hot and asked if she should take me to change. Grandma nodded, but to their surprise, I resisted fiercely. Grandma looked confused, but figuring there were more pressing matters, she told the assistant to just roll my sleeves up a bit to help me cool down. Under the watchful eyes of everyone in the room, the assistant rolled the sleeves up to my elbows, revealing arms covered in bruises of all sizes. Someone gasped. Victoria pushed Chloe away and rushed over to me, but Grandma was already standing between us, gripping my arm and demanding answers. "How did this happen? Harper, tell Grandma, who did this to you?" Victoria stood nearby, covering her mouth and crying, wanting to get closer but not getting the chance. 5 My adoptive parents loved to abuse kids. Their miserable lives made it a habit to take out their frustrations on their daughter. Their son was a treasure; their daughter was trash. Especially since this daughter wasn't even theirs. They thought the baby swap would never be discovered, so they acted with total impunity. "If you dare tell anyone, I'll beat you to death." That warning, delivered after every punishment, was etched deep into the mind of a four-year-old child. Even after being brought back by her biological parents, she was too terrified to complain. The only people who knew were the maids who took care of her, and those snobbish maids weren't about to cause trouble for a neglected child. The marks on the body always fade eventually. When I grew up, I regretted keeping the abuse I suffered a secret. Maybe it was out of fear, or maybe a tiny sliver of pride. Back then, as a four-year-old, I only knew that getting beaten meant I was bad. It meant I must have done something wrong. I didn't want my new mommy and daddy to see my flaws. But I've been reborn now. I refuse to suffer in silence anymore. It's time for revenge. What does a four-year-old care about pride?! This time, I'm not playing the pathetic victim! I stared at the purple and blue bruises. "Lily was bad. Mommy and Daddy punished Lily." A folder slammed violently onto the marble coffee table. Arthur stood up, his face livid with rage. Chloe was terrified by my bruises and started wailing. Grandma shot her a look, her brow furrowed in furious disgust. "This is a slap in the face to our family! We treat their child like a princess, and this is how they treat Harper?! She's just a baby! "That's it. I don't want to hear another word. Send Chloe back!" They even stripped her of her last name. Chloe? The physical pain was something I was long used to, but this slight deviation from the plot of my past life felt surprisingly good. I just wondered if Chloe's plot armor would somehow kick in and keep her here anyway. The staff moved quickly. Chloe's room was cleared out in record time. It was the second-best bedroom in the mansion, right across from Liam's room. I pouted slightly. Playing the pathetic victim really does work. I never got to live in that room in my past life~ Two months passed. I gained some weight, my skin cleared up and became fair, and my features began to define themselves, inheriting the best traits of Arthur and Victoria. This was the one area where I could always beat Chloe. But my past life had taught me that beauty doesn't guarantee you'll be favored. A few days after I was brought back, Grandma ruthlessly sent Chloe back to her adoptive parents. Although Victoria hesitated, the revelation of the child abuse crossed a hard line for both Arthur and Grandma, rendering Chloe's plot armor useless. They immediately launched an investigation into the hospital mix-up and filed criminal charges against my adoptive parents for child abuse. But I knew Chloe's departure was only temporary. She would be back eventually... 6 For those two months, Victoria treated me impeccably. After all, I was the child she carried for nine months. Bound by blood, she desperately wanted to overcompensate and build a relationship with me. I just let her, comfortably accepting everything she offered. Even though she occasionally slipped up and called me Chloe, or stared off into space, missing the child she had raised for four years. Whatever. Since my rebirth, I felt like a spectator watching a play. The dramatic ups and downs, the joys and sorrows—I felt very little of it. My older brother, who was five years my senior, kept his distance. Though he was smarter than other kids his age, polite and well-mannered, he still lacked the emotional control of an adult. Whenever Victoria tried to bring us together to foster a sibling bond, he would find a perfectly reasonable excuse to decline, leaving Victoria speechless. He didn't bother putting on a fake smile for me. He probably thought I was too young to understand. The cold resentment in his eyes made it clear he viewed me as a home-wrecker who destroyed his perfect family of four, the little beggar who drove away his sister. Fine! In a way, I suppose I was. But I actually found it quite amusing. In mid-November of that year, the family threw me the first birthday party of my life. It was meant to make up for the birthdays I had missed, so the event was incredibly lavish. It was also the official announcement of my identity. Held in Arthur's arms, I calmly accepted the blessings of various VIPs. They wished me a lifetime of joy, a smooth path ahead, and safety from all harm. They praised my adorable looks, saying I had inherited all my parents' best features. For those few short hours, I really did feel like a pampered princess. But... being a princess has an expiration date. I was a Cinderella who would lose her magic when the clock struck. Arthur had to stay and schmooze at the venue, while Victoria suggested she take Liam and me home first. Her anxious demeanor gave me a pretty good idea of what was going on. By the time the car pulled up to the mansion, it was already 10:30 PM. In the foyer, Victoria let go of the hand she had been holding all night and hurried toward the living room. Liam, trailing behind us, also lost his usual composure. "Chloe!" Chloe was sitting on the sofa, wearing a white dress. She looked much more subdued. She buried her face in Victoria's chest and cried timidly, saying how much she missed Daddy, Mommy, and her big brother. "Chloe, welcome home!" I heard my brother—the one who couldn't stand me—speak with genuine joy. I quietly slipped away from the foyer and went straight to my room. Good girls go to bed early and wake up early. The next morning, Chloe was already sitting obediently at the dining table. It seemed two months of going hungry in that rundown trailer had cured her of being a picky eater. Seeing me come downstairs, Victoria gently picked me up and placed me in my booster seat, softly asking how I slept. Liam's attitude had also improved significantly. He pushed my milk glass closer to me when I couldn't reach it. Chloe, sitting next to him, looked at me timidly, entirely stripped of her former arrogant heiress persona. "Harper, Mommy wants to talk to you about something. Your sister's biological mommy and daddy made a big mistake and the police officers took them to jail. Your sister doesn't have anyone to take care of her or anywhere to live. Is it okay if she comes to live with us?" I took a sip of the milk. I've always hated this stuff; the smell always made me gag. I sat quietly as Victoria explained how pitiful Chloe was. Arthur had left for the office early, Grandma was at the main estate, and the three people at the table were eagerly awaiting my verdict. I glanced at Chloe's pale, exposed arm, lowering my eyelashes. "Isn't this something Daddy and Mommy decide?" I want to say no. I want to throw her out. I want her to be despised, to be looked down upon. I want her to be beaten like I was, to suffer what I suffered. But do you think I actually have a choice? Victoria patted my head, smiling with relief. "Harper is so understanding. We're going to be a family of five from now on." My adoptive parents were sent to prison. Chloe was legally removed from the family registry, meaning she would have no inheritance rights. Grandma turned a blind eye. In the end, Chloe—well, not Chloe anymore, her legal name was now Chloe Smith—stayed as the family's adopted daughter. I had to marvel at the sheer power of plot armor. I felt like I had changed so much, yet somehow, nothing had changed at all.
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