Just because I peeled a shrimp for my husband, I was secretly filmed by "Feminist_Icon_Bella," a massive influencer, and labeled a "Trad Wife Pick-Me" who sets women back fifty years. Within minutes, my social media was flooded with hate. My husband, heartbroken, wanted to unleash his legal team to defend me, but I stopped him just in time. In my past life, we did exactly that—we used the law to fight back. But just as we were about to win, Bella livestreamed her "suicide attempt," and overnight, we were branded murderers. The public backlash destroyed my husband's law firm. My parents died from heart attacks brought on by the stress. And finally, I was pushed into oncoming traffic by one of her deranged fans. After my death, Bella miraculously "survived," gained six million followers, and became the top streamer on the platform. Only then did I realize it was all a orchestrated stunt for clout. And she targeted me simply because the guy she liked rejected her that day, using me—a random passerby—as his excuse. When I opened my eyes again, the first thing I did was put on my best "battle armor"—a designer dress—and apply the most perfect "no-makeup" makeup look to become the ultimate "Trad Wife." This time, I'm going to use her as my stepping stone to the top. ... When I got home, my social media was, predictably, under siege, just like in my past life. The same filthy comments, filled with creative insults about my mother. My husband, Mark, was furious. He wanted his lawyers to get justice for me immediately, but I stopped him. He was confused. "Honey, this influencer, Bella, is clearly using us for clout. Are we really going to do nothing?" I smiled and shook my head. "Of course not. But we can't explain ourselves. Instead, we need to lean into it." Seeing his confusion, I air-dropped him several clips of me looking my best. In every video, my skin looked like a peeled hard-boiled egg—smooth, soft, and radiating a vibe that made people want to protect me. "Instead of explaining, let's drown them in aesthetics. Pretty privilege is real. I'm going to be the most beautiful 'Trad Wife' they've ever seen." Mark didn't get it, but he followed my lead. I didn't stay idle either. After he left, I found the best angle, made sure I looked stunning, and started a livestream. Because of the trending topic, people flooded in. Some, total strangers, immediately started calling me a gold-digger and a disgrace to women. I didn't get angry. I just apologized softly, constantly emphasizing how sorry I was for "shaming women." I even adjusted the angle to show off my best side, sniffing tearfully as I said I shouldn't have served food to the man I love. Instantly, half the aggressive comments died down. Many people started telling me not to cry, saying I only served some food and didn't commit a crime. Of course, some were determined to smear me from start to finish. I saw a familiar alt account and recognized it immediately as Bella. I leaned in close to the camera, maximizing the impact of my face. Seeing the comments shift to praising my looks, I started reading the hate comments through my tears. "This... 'Princess_Slayer'... I don't... even know you... You can insult me... but please... don't bring my family into this..." My tear-stained face was pitiful and endearing. The netizens turned their fire on Bella's alt account, throwing the same insults she hurled at me right back at her. I waved my hands frantically, crying out, "Please, everyone, don't be angry for my sake. It's her fault for being mean, but if you get angry because of me, then it's my fault." Being so understanding only made people pity me more. Countless commenters shouted that I wasn't a "Trad Wife" but a sweet, soft angel. I widened my eyes, red like a rabbit's, and pouted. "Ah, thank you everyone... thank you for believing in me... To thank you, I..." I paused deliberately, looked around, then trotted away and came back with a plate of shrimp. "I love peeling shrimp for people I like... Can I peel them for you guys?" The chat was charmed, teasing me to make me happy. A "shrimp-peeling Trad Wife" scandal unknowingly became the stepping stone for my own traffic. In one livestream, I gained 100,000 followers. Looking at that number, the smile never left my face. I was so stupid in my last life. Why fight head-on? Water can float a boat, but it can also capsize it. If I use the traffic Bella sent me correctly, it can become the ladder I use to climb over her. The next morning, I went viral again. Because of the livestream clips, the marketing accounts were reposting videos where I looked simply too beautiful. Anyone who saw me couldn't help but follow. Aside from a few hate DMs, my inbox was full of girls asking how my skin was so perfect. To answer them, I posted my first video, focusing on my skincare routine. I studied medical aesthetics, and with my naturally good skin, the video quickly got over 300,000 likes. The niche skincare products I recommended sold out instantly. Seeing my purchasing power, brands realized my value. Many reached out for collaborations. I didn't rush. I politely declined them for now. But to annoy Bella, I screenshotted the offers and posted them. Caption: [I only recommend products I actually use. If I do ads in the future, I'll let everyone know!] Seeing this, Bella went insane. Her alt account unleashed a tirade on me. [You b*tch, seducing men wasn't enough? You have to steal my other things too? You really look like a fox.] [Don't get cocky. The higher people lift you now, the harder you'll fall later!] [Just you wait. I will ruin you. I'll make you and your family rot in hell.] ... In my past life, I would have fought back. But now, I just screenshotted everything as evidence. When Bella starts to crumble, this will be the fatal blow. She was furious. She posted two angry videos emphasizing that my shrimp peeling was "self-debasement," putting myself beneath a man for his love. She also claimed my love for makeup and skincare was for men, calling it the "beauty tax" and severe objectification—treating myself as a tool to please men. Listening to her jealousy overflowing through the screen, I only found it laughable. In my past life, on International Women's Day, she was exposed for getting a nose job at a clinic, accompanied by a sugar daddy ten years her senior. Later, those trending topics were suddenly removed, and she cried "fake news" to win back her fans. It's March 5th now. Only three days left. I'm going to watch her dig her own grave, and then I'll help kick her in. But before that, I need to get close to her obsession, Kevin. The other murderer who destroyed my family! The first time I heard of this man was the day my family was ruined by Bella. I asked her why she wouldn't let me go. She said I stole the person she loved. I explained I didn't know him at all. But she paranoidly asked why Kevin praised my beauty if I didn't know him, and why he said he'd only date someone like me. I couldn't answer. It wasn't until after I died, as my soul was fading, that I heard Kevin's friend ask him why he used me as an excuse to reject Bella. "She's insanely jealous. She hates it when I say others are prettier than her. This way, even if I reject her, she won't blame me or ask for her money back." His friend praised his cleverness. I shook with rage. Because of this undeserved disaster, my family was dead or insane. Intense resentment made me want to tear this trash apart, but I could only watch as my soul dissipated. Thank god fate gave me another chance. This time, I won't just punish Bella. I'm dragging Kevin to hell with her. Bella fell in love with Kevin at first sight when he "saved" her at her lowest point. She spent money on him endlessly, granting his every wish. Kevin was a master manipulator. He used her money to play the rich playboy outside, mixing with the wealthy crowd and constantly finding new women. But Bella, afraid of angering him, didn't dare monitor him and obeyed his every word. But now, to guard against me, she has people watching me. I'm going to use that. I'll deliberately parade in front of Kevin, forcing her to see who he really is. Let them destroy each other. The location: The Nightshade Bar. Kevin was known here as "Young Master Kevin," always buying rounds. Every night, he booked VIP Room 302. Bella knew this, but she didn't know what Kevin did in that room! So when I appeared at the bar, she automatically assumed I was there to seduce Kevin. Half an hour later, hearing the roar of a Porsche, I handed a red bill to the bartender. "If anyone asks where I went, make sure to say Room 302." The bartender took the cash and agreed smoothly. When Bella found out, she stormed over and kicked open the door to Room 302. When the door opened, Kevin was making out with the women around him. Not one, but five. Bella broke down. She grabbed a glass and smashed it on the sofa. Liquor splashed everywhere. Kevin's degenerate friends looked furious. "Kevin, where did you find this psycho? She has no manners!" "Yeah, how can a man let a woman ride on his head like this? If you're this whipped, we can't hang with you anymore!" Bella exploded at the word "psycho." She grabbed a bottle and threw it at the man who said it. Luckily, Kevin pulled him away just in time, or it would have hit his head. Filming from a distance, I sighed. Pity no one died. "Have you caused enough trouble, Bella?!" Kevin raised his hand and slapped her hard across the face, saying coldly: "If you keep this up, you never need to see me again." That one sentence brought her back to reality. She lowered her head and apologized meekly. Kevin's friends whistled, praising him for being a "real man" who knew how to handle women. Having regained face, Kevin, to show off further, pushed Bella to sit next to Nick, the rich kid she almost hit. "Toast him. You can leave when Nick forgives you." Bella, who preached independence and strength in her videos, didn't say a word. She tilted her head back and chugged. After downing three full bottles, she hugged the toilet, vomiting and having diarrhea. But this didn't earn her a shred of sympathy from Kevin. While she was passed out, he shoved her into Nick's car. Watching the car drive away, I felt nothing. This is what she owes me. What she owes my family. Sneering, I anonymously sent the photos to Nick's fiancée. The next day, Nick's fiancée, Ms. Cao, stormed a villa to catch the mistress, and the video trended at number one. The mistress's face was clearly visible: a terrified Bella. A feminist icon who taught women self-love was proven to be a mistress. The irony was palpable, and it broke the internet. Her fans felt humiliated and frantically demanded the truth. But Bella disappeared, refusing to respond. This is a classic internet tactic: thinking silence will make people forget. Later, she plans to make a comeback once the storm passes. But she underestimated how many enemies she made this year, and how terrible her character truly is. Soon, influencers came out to expose her one by one. Plastic surgery, stealing boyfriends, maliciously gossiping about other influencers' looks... the dirt piled up. It stank to high heaven. I also released screenshots of her alt account abusing me, adding "cyberbullying a regular person" to her list of sins. But she had plenty of bots and die-hard fans crying that she was being framed. They listed her charity work over the years. Many comments read: [I don't believe someone who loves charity can be that bad.] [Exactly. We must trust her. We refuse to participate in a witch hunt against a woman.] [Everyone, remember: Girls help Girls.] Reading the comments, I felt sick. The rise of feminism is hard enough without people like her exploiting the movement for clout. The netizens aren't wrong; the people using them are. And Bella played this game perfectly. That night, looking pale, she started a livestream. She started by crying. When she was tired of crying, she mentioned the events of the previous night. I knew she was looking for a scapegoat to whitewash herself, but I didn't expect her to choose me! "I didn't know anything... Vivian (me) wanted me to help her change her 'Pick-Me' mindset. She asked me out for drinks." "But after I drank, she left mysteriously. I was dizzy and got put into Nick's car." She held up her phone, showing "evidence" that we were in the same surveillance footage, editing the timestamps to make it look like we arrived one after another. This montage was enough for netizens to construct a narrative where I maliciously set her up for revenge. In an instant, I knew why she picked me. She hates me, but she dares not offend Nick. She needed someone she had a conflict with who was also at the bar. I fit the bill perfectly. Except she didn't count on me having a detailed video. I started a livestream and boldly requested a PK (battle) with Bella. She refused, so I cried, bit my lip, and showed my evidence. "I don't know why a big influencer is targeting me like this. If my friend hadn't sent me this, I would have died with this injustice." "She called me a Pick-Me, abused me on her alt, and now she's framing me. She really wants to drive me to death. If that's the case, I have to use the law to protect myself." Bella was terrified. She immediately ended her stream and fled. This brief victory resulted in her losing followers and me gaining 500,000. But I knew it wasn't over. That night, she went to scout the abandoned building where she "committed suicide" in my past life. According to my monitor, she wasn't just picking the best angle; she had someone rig a wire and specifically set up a safety cushion. In my past life, she claimed she would prove her innocence with death. In the suicide video, she edited out the wire using the night sky. Then she quickly had herself "cremated," leaving only a pile of ash for the police. Because death absolves all, public opinion flipped. We, who were in the right, became murderers. Thinking of this, I anonymously called a number from my memory. "The chance for revenge is here. Want to cooperate?" "How?" "I'll help you put Kevin in jail. You help me deal with Bella." Lydia agreed without hesitation. If there's anyone in this world who hates them more than me, it's her. Her daughter, whom she loved for twenty years, was Bella's assistant. Kevin raped her. Afterward, Bella not only didn't help but accused the daughter of seduction, driving her to a mental breakdown and suicide. In my past life, Lydia sought me out to join forces. The hatred in her eyes was unforgettable. This time, I didn't hesitate to make her my ally. Especially since she used to work in maintenance. She knows exactly how to make a wire fatal. After verifying the plan, we hung up. Then, I received an anonymous message.
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