I died once.
My own younger sister set the fire. She stood at the door and smiled as the flames licked my face.
After I was reborn, she snatched the Reincarnation Pill her mother-in-law offered and swallowed it first, smugly declaring, “Sis, this time the wealth, glory, and adoring husband are all mine.”
I looked at the burn scar on the web of her left hand, the one she got in my previous life when I grabbed her by the leg.
She thought that if she simply ignored me this time around, she could win.
But she didn’t know her adulterous husband-to-be had been rotten even before they married, and the Reincarnation Pill would turn her child into a monster, neither male nor female.
Three years later, she knelt before me, sobbing. “Sis, the baby’s a girl… My in-laws want a divorce. What should I do?”
I looked at her as if she were a joke.
This time, I wouldn’t try to talk her out of it.
I would simply turn away, open a guesthouse in Dali, and build a life she could never reach.
