Time flies. Now that I’m nearing forty, I’m the dutiful daughter who makes my parents proud, a hardworking corporate cog whose outstanding performance has earned her promotion after promotion, and, in other people’s eyes, a virtuous wife and gentle mother. But I’m the one thing I’ve never been: myself.
I always put my husband and son first, pouring half my life into them. Naively, I thought I could build a warm, loving home. But in the end, my unemployed husband complained that I had a bad temper and wasn’t gentle enough, while my child, who had dropped out of school, called me stupid and vicious and told me to go die. This so-called family nearly drained me of all my youth and passion. After a fierce argument left me dizzy, I passed out. When I opened my eyes again, I had transmigrated into the body of a twenty-year-old heiress with every comfort at her fingertips.
No endless housework, no ungrateful children, and no family ties that left everything a mess.
Instead, I found myself surrounded by a whole procession of powerful, high-ranking men who had never crossed paths with me before, yet were lining up to spoil me.
In this life, I don’t want to be trapped in the cage of any relationship. I just want to start over, love myself, and live a brilliant life that belongs to me alone.
So beautiful, I must follow it Hahahahaha, you must praise yourself