Reborn Five Years Ago, I Refuse to Be a Doormat Stepmom

At the celebration banquet, Lu Zhaoning tore the painting I'd given him in half in front of all the guests. "What does my success have to do with you?" After saying that, he put his arm around his biological mother and walked away. That night, I died of a heart attack in my studio. On the table lay the painting Lu Zhaoning had torn up, which I'd picked up and barely managed to glue back together. When I opened my eyes again, I was five years in the past. Fifteen-year-old Lu Zhaoning was smashing my easel. His voice, rough from puberty, scraped against my ears. "Why do you care what I do? You're not even my real mom!" I looked down at him. In my previous life, those words had been like shackles, binding me for so many years. Now...