The moment my husband, Ryan, put on those smart glasses, he became a stranger. He’d always been a skeptic, scoffing at horoscopes and superstition. But now, he meticulously followed the glasses’ "Luck-Enhancing Outfit" advice every day. Soon, he started trying to control me. “The intelligent analysis says wearing high heels today will benefit my career.” I reminded him it was pouring rain outside. He immediately scowled. “I have a massive contract signing today. Even if you sprained your ankle, you can’t sabotage my luck!” I didn’t want to argue. I changed into the heels. That very day, I landed in the ER with a Grade 3 sprain. The second day I was recovering, he said, “Climbing a mountain today is crucial for me to get a promotion from the VP.” I was furious. “My foot is broken! You want me to climb a mountain?” “You can just go slowly. Once I’m promoted, you’ll enjoy a life of luxury with me forever.” I refused vehemently, but he physically forced me to the summit. With no strength in my legs, I accidentally lost my footing and tumbled over the cliff. After I died, I was certain Ryan had cheated and was using those glasses as a twisted excuse to torment me to death. But then, I heard a conversation between Ryan and the smart glasses. Ryan was sobbing, clutching my body. “This is because I listened to you! You killed my wife!” “Without her, what’s the point of living?” “Your wife died because her hair was too straight,” a cold, synthetic voice responded. “If she had gotten a loose wave perm, this tragedy would have been avoided.” I opened my eyes and found myself back on the day Ryan bought the smart glasses. I was about to stop him from putting them on. But Ryan spoke first. “Honey, I think you would look incredible with curly hair.” I froze in place. This time, I had to understand why he trusted a pair of high-tech lenses with such blind, deadly faith. 1 Seeing my lack of response, Ryan rushed to reassure me, as if afraid I was mad. “I’m just giving a suggestion. You’ve had your signature straight, dark hair for so many years. Aren’t you tired of the style?” I played along. “I’ve thought about it, but I’m worried it won’t suit me.” “What are you worried about? You have to be brave and try new things!” “And how could my wife ever not look beautiful?” “I know a fantastic stylist. I’ll book you right now.” He then started using the smart glasses—the AuraLens, as the brand called it—to schedule the appointment. Ryan’s AuraLens connected directly to his phone. In my previous life, ever since he got those glasses, he’d spend hours on the sofa, just staring into space and giggling. Whenever I asked what he was doing, he’d just say he was streaming videos. I thought he’d merely transferred his phone addiction to the glasses, and I didn’t think much of it. When he started believing its insane luck advice, I thought it was just a passing obsession. But then I realized: every single “luck-enhancing” tip the AuraLens gave him was a precise, targeted attack on me. It resulted in injury after injury. I finally couldn’t take it anymore and asked him why he put such absolute faith in a gadget. Ryan just mumbled vague excuses. What truly chilled me was the total lack of genuine concern when I was injured. That was when I started to suspect he was cheating. But after I died, he not only collapsed, weeping hysterically over my body, but he was also despairing enough to talk about following me. My curiosity deepened. What secret did those glasses hold that was more important than both our lives? While Ryan was busy booking the stylist, I secretly contacted the official store where he bought the AuraLens, asking about its features. After I sent them the product serial number, the representative told me that Ryan’s glasses were a special edition prototype. Some of its hidden, proprietary features couldn’t be accessed by them. Furthermore, the designer and creator of this custom pair was completely untraceable. A cold knot formed in my chest. If the official channels couldn’t tell me, there was only one way left. I had to put on Ryan’s glasses and see for myself. But how could I ever get my hands on them? “Honey, the stylist has an opening right now. Let’s head out.” I snapped back to reality. Ryan was already packed and waiting. He adjusted the glasses on his nose and gave me a faint smile—one that made him look utterly foreign. As I stood up, I smiled back, keeping my tone light. “You love those glasses so much you won’t even take them off to sleep.” His hand paused on the doorknob. He offered a quick, casual explanation. “All my phone messages and notifications pop up right here. It’s normal to rely on it.” I didn’t press him. While I was getting my hair done, Ryan worked on the contract he was supposed to sign the next day. He finished his work just as I was done with my new hair. “Wow, you are a stunning bombshell now, honey!” Ryan nodded in satisfaction. “And a pair of stiletto heels would just complete that powerful look!” “Wear high heels tomorrow. I want to see a fierce, polished professional!” Just like in the previous life, I reminded him. “It’s supposed to rain tomorrow. Heels will be a hassle.” But he insisted. “The AuraLens just told me that high heels tomorrow will significantly boost my business luck.” “Honey, if I close this deal, the bonus is thirty thousand dollars.” “You wouldn’t refuse me, would you?” I laughed. “You’ve signed six deals like this already this year. With your talent, you could wear flip-flops tomorrow and still close it.” I didn’t believe for a second that my high heels were the reason he succeeded the first time. But he was persistent. Until I uncovered the truth, I wanted to avoid unnecessary conflict. I nodded and agreed. The next day, however, once I arrived at the office, I deliberately changed into flats. I was going to see if his contract would fail simply because I didn’t wear heels. 2 What I hadn’t anticipated was Ryan coming home that evening with a face like thunder. “The deal fell through.” The moment he said it, my body went rigid. The project had been discussed and agreed upon long ago. Ryan’s contract was airtight; otherwise, he wouldn’t have closed it in the past. Could it truly have been because I didn’t wear the heels? “Honey, did you… not wear the high heels?” Hearing the accusation, I quickly flashed my injured ankle. “You saw me put them on when I left. And look, I sprained my foot, remember?” To prevent him from discovering I'd switched shoes and to make the failed contract seem plausible, I'd gone ahead and painfully twisted my ankle that morning. Looking at him now, the pain hadn't been for nothing. Ryan looked even more confused. “You followed the luck advice perfectly. Why did my contract still fail?” “It’s just an AI fortune-teller, Ryan. You don’t need to believe in it so much.” He instantly snapped. “How can you say that?” “My AuraLens is different from every other AI!” “How is it different?” I pressed, leaning into his frantic mood. He didn’t answer. Instead, his expression became deadly serious as he warned me, “The failure today is because you weren’t devout enough.” “From now on, you must obey every single thing I say, or you will ruin my career!” “Tomorrow is the day my department finalizes promotions. Going on a hike tomorrow will boost my career luck.” “You must stand on the highest peak and pray with sincerity.” I sneered, pointing to my sprained foot. “How am I supposed to hike with this?” “It’s a sprain, not open-heart surgery. Why can’t you hike?” “I’ll push you up there. That’s why.” He roared at me. I stood there, stunned by the sight of the unhinged man who was supposed to be Ryan. He seemed to realize his emotional outburst was a problem and softened his tone immediately. “Honey, I’m sorry. The contract failed, and I just lost control.” “The tech sector is bleeding, the pressure is immense. Please, just see this as me searching for a psychological anchor. Help me out, okay?” I looked at him, feeling helpless. “If you need spiritual guidance, I’ll go with you to a psychic or a temple. But why are you placing all your faith in some AI’s ‘good luck’ suggestions?” “Is this science or a cult? Tell me the truth. Is there something you’re hiding?” Ryan panicked. “What could I possibly be hiding?” “We’re a team. I work this hard because I want to lower your stress!” “I’m so anxious I’ve started believing this stuff, and you still suspect me?” “I think you just don’t want me to succeed! Are you afraid I’ll surpass you professionally?” “Other wives willingly support their husbands’ careers from home. I respect your career, I’m happy to play second fiddle, and this is the suspicion and doubt I get in return?” He abruptly slammed his coffee mug onto the floor, scattering shards of ceramic everywhere. I didn't argue. I simply narrowed my eyes and watched him. In the silence, our eyes met. He suddenly asked me, “Eliza, how can you be so calm?” “Did you... come back?” My back went rigid. Had I given myself away? Frowning, I kept up the pretense. “Come back from what? What are you talking about?” “You don’t want to explain the glasses, so you’re changing the subject?” Ryan crouched down in front of me, his expression deadly earnest. “Honey, the truth is, I came back.” 3 “In the last timeline, I used these smart glasses to climb all the way to a senior executive position at the company. It completely transformed our lives.” “That’s why I trust these glasses so absolutely.” “But as for why they’re so powerful, I can only tell you after I secure that executive role. Otherwise, the effect will vanish.” He gripped my hands tightly, his eyes pleading. “Please, just trust me this one time.” Ryan had concocted a lie about a past life. This only cemented my certainty: the glasses’ secret was far more sinister than he was letting on. Asking wouldn’t work. I would have to risk my life and find out myself. “You’re right. We’re a team. I will always, always trust you.” “I’ll take a sick day from work. I’ll go hiking with you tomorrow.” Ryan was so thrilled he pulled me into a tight hug and kissed me. Then he retreated to his study to work. He often worked himself to the bone for his job. That was why, in the previous life, when I realized his obsession with the smart glasses was tied to his ambition, my tolerance for his eccentric behavior had been so high. But I didn't believe it was just about work anymore. I prepared his usual glass of warm milk. Ryan drank it without suspicion. He didn’t know that this time, I’d added something extra. Half an hour later, Ryan was slumped over his desk, fast asleep. I called his name. No response. I pushed his shoulder. Nothing. Once I was sure he was deeply unconscious, I reached out to take the glasses. But the instant my fingers brushed the frame, a hand shot up and clamped onto my wrist! The supposedly unconscious Ryan was suddenly wide awake. His eyes were savage, his voice icy. “What are you doing?” “Eliza, you were trying to steal my glasses while I slept!” “I already promised I’d tell you everything once I made it to the executive level, but you still don’t trust me!” “I think you just want to ruin me!” “Are you insane?!” I yanked my hand free. “I thought you were asleep, and I wanted to take the glasses off so you could rest better.” “My good intentions are wasted on you! Keep your stupid glasses. Marry your damn glasses for all I care!” I feigned outrage and stormed out, slamming the study door shut. But just as I stepped out, I received a text from the private investigator. The PI had managed to track down the designer/creator of Ryan’s custom AuraLens prototype. The moment I saw the name, a cold dread completely paralyzed me. I knew. Tomorrow’s hike was almost a death sentence. But I had to go. I immediately spent the night frantically contacting local search and rescue teams. I spent a full ten thousand dollars, begging them to set up a hidden, emergency response near the precise spot where I had fallen before. Every team was hesitant, fearing liability when they heard my request. “Ma’am, if you know you might die, why are you going anyway?” I didn’t have the time or the words to explain that my husband had fallen in love with a smart gadget. I had to repeatedly sign written waivers, absolving them of all responsibility should the rescue fail. Finally, one team agreed to the contract. By the time I finished everything, the sun was rising. The end was near. The game between Ryan and me was about to conclude. 4 Ryan finally emerged from the study, where he’d spent the entire night. The dark circles under his eyes showed he hadn’t slept well either. But he acted perfectly normal, greeting me. “Honey, get ready. Let’s go for our hike.” He smiled at me, but the heavy bruising under his eyes made him look like a desperate, restless ghost. I pretended not to notice and got in the car with him. When we reached the bottom of the mountain, Ryan dropped me off first and went to find parking. In that brief moment, I received another bizarre text message. “You’ll die if you go up with him. You came back and you’re still this stupid?!” Who was this? How did they know I had come back? I texted back a question mark. They didn’t reply. I immediately called the number, but it was disconnected—an empty line! The person on the other end clearly knew Ryan’s secret. Who were they? My heart hammered in my chest. Ryan, who had gone to park, was already back. He jogged over, taking a firm grip on both sides of my wheelchair, controlling my every direction. Before we started up the path, he suddenly said, “I thought about it. I want to respect your feelings.” “If you truly don’t want to climb, we can forget it.” I knew better. Even if I didn't go up today, he’d find another opportunity and method to kill me later. It was better to get it over with and find out the truth today. “If this truly helps your state of mind, I’ll climb.” Thanks to the lessons of my first life, I was hyper-aware of my surroundings as we ascended. When we reached the exact spot where I’d fallen before—the loose patch of ground—my heart trembled uncontrollably, even knowing the rescue team was waiting below. “Honey, that spot ahead is very narrow. Be careful.” He patted my shoulder. “I’m here. You think you’d fall doing something as simple as a hike?” I closed my eyes in tension. But this time, we passed the spot safely. Only when we truly reached the summit did I feel a brief rush of surviving a near-death experience. Ryan spread his arms wide and took a deep breath. “The mountain air is beautiful, Eliza.” “It would be quite a peaceful way to go, if you had to die here.” His words struck a tightly wound cord in my mind. Clenching my fists, I admonished him. “Don’t talk about dying. It’s bad luck.” Ryan slowly turned to face me. The instant our eyes met, his held a chilling, undisguised intent to kill. “Stop pretending, Eliza.” “I can’t believe, even after coming back to life, you still love me this much.” “I texted you a warning, but you still chose to climb up here with me.” “Since you’re so willing, I’ll grant your wish and let you die right here.” I was stunned. That was you? He smiled, and a deep chill settled in my bones. Ryan started walking toward me. I quickly spun the wheelchair back, but he grabbed me and pinned me in place. He leaned down, whispering in my ear. “You thought you noticed my strange behavior, but you didn’t think I’d notice yours, did you?” “Your biggest weakness, Eliza, is that you loved me too much.” “I owe you an apology in this life, but after you’re gone, I’ll make sure you have the finest grave.” “Ryan, what are you talking about?!” I yelled, hysterical now. “You know I love you! Why are you doing this?!” He didn’t answer. Instead, he kicked the wheelchair. “Ah!” Seeing the chair begin to roll toward the cliff edge, I instinctively threw myself out, landing hard on the ground. The wheelchair plunged into the abyss. I desperately clung to a jagged rock at the edge of the cliff, shaking uncontrollably. Tears streamed down my face. “We’ve been married for years! I swear I’ve never wronged you!” “Why do you hate me this much?!” “You’re a good woman. That’s why, down below, I actually regretted it for a second.” “I almost gave you a chance to escape.” Fear and grief made me tremble, but with my last ounce of strength, I pleaded, my voice raw. “Let me go.” “Whatever trouble you’re in, tell me! We can face it together, can’t we?” Ryan shook his head. “Of course not.” “The AuraLens told me this is the only way for my life to be successful.” “Honey, I’ll make it up to you in the next life.” “The smart glasses again!” I screamed, my voice hoarse. “Why do you believe that thing so blindly?!” “Our years of marriage, the two children I lost for you—do none of those matter more than a piece of AI-guided plastic?!” Hearing me mention the children we’d lost, Ryan finally flinched. My eyes were blurry with tears, my voice trembling. “Fine. I know I won’t survive today.” “But let me die with an answer.” “Tell me. Why do you have such absolute, blind faith in that AuraLens?” Ryan finally nodded. He took the glasses off and handed them to me. This time, I finally put on my husband’s glasses.
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