Ten years after my death, I was reborn as Daisy, my own pampered granddaughter, who always clung to me. In my last life, I started from a street stall, clawed my way to a publicly traded corporation, and hadn’t slept a single good night in sixty years. This time, I could finally be a third-generation heiress, living a life of leisure. But no sooner had I woken up than I saw a notification on my phone. My adopted son, Leo Maxwell, was poised to dismantle the business empire I had painstakingly built. All the Lees, my relatives, stormed into the CEO’s office, pointing fingers at him, yelling, “What right do you, an outsider, have to dispose of the Lee family’s assets!” Leo merely lifted his gaze, and the entire room fell silent, like chickens gone mute. In the end, every single Lee was thrown out of the building, becoming the laughingstock of the city. Only I was left behind with Leo. I felt a pang of guilt, half-expecting him to recognize me, his old matriarch. Instead, he tossed a stack of business management quizzes at me, his face cold. “Grandma doted on you most of all in her life, but your brain is less than a thousandth of hers.” “These tests, you must score above 90% on every single one.” He leaned in, his voice tight with suppressed emotion. “Fail to do so, and don’t even think about visiting her grave.” “I’ll tell everyone—you’re not worthy of being her granddaughter.” 1 The moment consciousness flooded back, a searing headache made me groan. Ten years of murky, post-mortem memories receded like a tide, replaced by those of another girl. Daisy Lee. My little granddaughter. The one who, at three years old, would cling to me, begging me to read to her. The one my son and daughter-in-law spoiled rotten, so delicate that a mere touch would make her cry. I shot upright and rushed to the bathroom. The mirror reflected a youthful face, wide, sparkling eyes, skin like porcelain, and softly curled hair—the epitome of a spoiled little princess. Looking at this face, untouched by the storms of life, my emotions were a complicated mess. In my last life, I built an empire from scratch, from a humble street cart to a listed corporation, working myself into ill health by sixty, with wrinkles that even the most expensive skincare couldn’t erase. Now, I’d been given a second chance, only to become my own granddaughter? Well, it’s not so bad. After a lifetime of toil, this time I’d be a third-generation heiress. I’d finally enjoy a life of… “Buzz—buzz—” My phone on the vanity vibrated wildly, the screen lighting up with urgent news alerts. [Lee Group Stock Plummets! Billions Lost in a Single Day!] [Leo Maxwell’s Leadership Fails? Lee Business Empire on the Brink!] [Industry Analysts: Lee Group CEO Leo Maxwell’s Recent Decisions Questioned, Suspected of Deliberate Self-Sabotage?] Leo Maxwell. My adopted son. When I found him, he was twelve, as thin as a bean sprout, but his eyes held the fierce glint of a wolf cub. Most of the Lee descendants were soft-natured; I was worried about finding an heir, so I adopted him. I spent ten years smoothing his rough edges, teaching him the ways of business, and on my deathbed, against all opposition, I entrusted the company to him. I thought he’d understand my efforts. I thought he’d protect my legacy. And this is how he repays me? A surge of righteous fury shot to my head. I threw the phone down, grabbed a coat, and stormed out. This life, though housed in a pampered body, still held the spirit of old Mrs. Lee. I needed to get some answers. What exactly was Leo Maxwell trying to do? Did he think that just because I was gone, no one could control him anymore? I rushed downstairs, before I could even call a driver, an urgent news flash suddenly appeared on the hundred-inch TV screen in the living room. [Breaking! Lee Group CEO Leo Maxwell Announces Donation of All Personal Assets and Remaining Group Liquid Funds, Plus Select Real Estate, Totaling Approximately Ten Billion Dollars, to Sunstone Charity Home!] On the screen, Leo Maxwell, impeccably dressed in a suit, stood beside the donation agreement, his face calm and unreadable. Below him, flashbulbs exploded. My steps faltered. I stared at the scrolling news headline, rooted to the spot. He donated everything? And to Sunstone Charity Home, of all places? While I was still reeling, my father, uncles, and aunts in this life had already erupted. “He’s lost his mind! He’s absolutely lost it!” My father, Robert Lee, slammed his teacup, his face ashen. “That’s Lee family money! What right does he have to donate it?!” “I told you this stray wouldn’t be tamed! Mom shouldn’t have been so soft-hearted and picked him up!” Uncle George stomped his foot, cursing. “Call the police! We must call the police! This is embezzlement! This is theft!” The group clawed at each other like hyenas whose food had been snatched, red-eyed, howling, completely devoid of dignity. I watched them coldly. These people, my children in my past life. Not much talent, but when it came to fighting over inheritance and being a hindrance, they were second to none. If I hadn’t kept them in check, the company would have been bled dry long ago. Now, seeing the money gone, they were more frantic than anyone. The whole group stormed out, clearly going to confront Leo. I slowly followed. My emotions were complicated. This move by Leo, it was too radical, and too unexpected. Sunstone Charity Home, that was where I met him. And it was also where I first started, where I got my first investment. The old director there was a truly good person. I had sworn then that if I succeeded, I would repay that place a hundred, a thousand times over. I had only mentioned this to young Leo once. He… remembered? 2 The top floor of Lee Group headquarters, outside the CEO’s office, was a chaotic mess, like a fish market. My children and grandchildren from this life were all blocked by bodyguards. Unable to get in, they cursed outside, their words viciously offensive. “Leo Maxwell! You ungrateful bastard! Get out here!” “That’s my mother’s company! What right do you have to donate it?! What kind of trash are you?!” “Bastard! Scum! They should have let you starve and freeze to death back then!” The security guards formed a human wall, their faces impassive, clearly well-trained. The secretary on the side was sweating profusely, trying to say something, but her voice was completely drowned out by the shouting. I watched this group argue like common street vendors, my brow furrowing deeper. Such uncouth behavior! Did decades of upbringing amount to nothing? “Everyone, shut up!” I snapped, the unconscious authority of old Mrs. Lee emerging. “What kind of scene is this?! Can’t you talk…” “Daisy, shut your mouth!” My father in this life, Robert Lee, abruptly cut me off, his face full of irritation. “What do kids know?! Go stand aside!” Uncle George shot me a harsh glare. “Adults are talking, it’s not your place to interrupt! If you keep yelling, I’ll send you home!” I instantly choked, the rest of my words caught in my throat. Looking at their agitated, distorted faces, I suddenly realized. Right now, I was Daisy Lee, the least influential granddaughter in the family. A wave of powerlessness washed over me. I pressed my lips together, silently retreating to the back of the crowd, observing the farce coldly. I didn’t expect that short moment to be perfectly captured by a pair of deep eyes peeking from behind the office door. The office door suddenly opened. Leo Maxwell stepped out. He must be thirty-five this year. Time hadn’t etched many lines on his face; instead, it had refined him, giving him a stern, imposing aura. His suit was sharp, his posture upright, and his gaze, when it swept over them, felt like shards of ice. The previously noisy crowd instantly quieted by half. My father, stiff-necked, still wanted to say something, but a glance from Leo instantly deflated his bluster. “What’s all this noise about?” Leo’s voice wasn’t loud, but it clearly cut through all other sounds. “Do I need to report company decisions to you?” “That’s the Lee family’s company!” Uncle George shrieked. “The Lee family?” Leo gave a faint, cold smirk, as if he’d heard a joke. “When Grandma was alive, which of you ever earned a dime for Lee Group? The losses you incurred, however, were countless. And now you show up claiming it’s the Lee family’s?” His gaze swept over the faces, some angry, some guilty. “When the group’s capital chain broke, and stock prices plummeted, where were you?” “When banks called in debts, and partners canceled contracts, where were you then?” “Aside from selling off Grandma’s antiques and properties to cover your messes, what else can you do?” A torrent of questions left the group speechless, their faces alternating between green and white. “As for the donation,” Leo’s tone grew colder. “I used my personal funds and disposed of the group’s remaining assets to overcome the crisis, all legally and compliantly. Who are you to dictate what I do?” “Bullshit!” My father finally found his voice, his eyes red. “You’re just seeking revenge! Revenge on the Lee family! Revenge on Mom for keeping you in line! You’re just an ungrateful wretch we raised!” Leo’s expression instantly darkened. The air around them seemed to drop several degrees. “Robert Lee,” Leo didn’t even call him by his usual title, just his name. “Watch your words. If not for Grandma’s sake, you wouldn’t even have the right to stand here and speak to me.” He raised a hand. Security personnel immediately stepped forward, forcefully “escorting” people out. “Get out! All of you, get out!” “Leo Maxwell! How dare you!” “We’ll sue you! You just wait!” Cries, curses, and threats filled the air, but my children and grandchildren were unceremoniously cleared out. The farce ended. I stood in the corner, watching these useless descendants being removed, feeling a surge of annoyance. Leo’s gaze swept past the crowd, landing precisely on me. “You,” he pointed at me, his eyes deep and unreadable, “come in.” My heart tightened. Bearing the resentful stares of the others, I bit the bullet and followed him into the office. The door closed behind us, shutting out all the noise. 3 The office was quiet. Leo walked behind his desk, turned, and fixed his piercing gaze on me. He said nothing, just watched me, as if trying to see straight through me. Under his intense scrutiny, my scalp tingled, and I tried my best to maintain Daisy’s usual timid demeanor. After a long moment, he finally spoke, his voice even. “That was quite a display of authority just now.” My heart skipped a beat. Leo was a smart kid, even as a child. Could he have… “But it was a little foolish,” his tone turned colder. “Unable to grasp the situation, trying to smash an egg against a rock.” I lowered my head, not daring to speak. He suddenly picked up a stack of test papers from a nearby table and tossed them onto the desk in front of me. Corporate Strategic Management, Advanced Financial Analysis, Market Game Theory… All business management courses, and not easy ones. I immediately recognized that some of the trap questions and assessment approaches were very similar to the tricky ones I used to devise to challenge him. “Your father says you want to intern at the company?” Leo leaned back in his chair, his tone unreadable, but his finger tapped lightly on the Market Game Theory paper, his gaze like a hawk, watching my initial reaction as I picked up the tests. I: “…” No, I don’t. Looking at these papers, I sighed inwardly. Perhaps I pushed too hard in my previous life; old Mrs. Lee, this time, just wanted to enjoy the life of a rich heiress. Otherwise, how could I justify a lifetime of hard work? But I could only nod. “…Mmm.” At the same time, my fingers subconsciously flipped through the top paper, my gaze quickly scanning several key questions. My brow furrowed almost imperceptibly, then quickly relaxed. The way these questions are designed, still the same old tricks, focusing on human weaknesses and loopholes in regulations. Seriously, no progress at all. “With your grades, failing every subject, what could you possibly do in the company? Even fetching tea and water, you’d be too stupid.” His words were blunt, but his gaze was fixed on my brow, where it had just furrowed and relaxed, and on the focused intensity in my eyes as I quickly scanned the papers—an intensity that no slacker would possess. My mouth twitched uncontrollably. That brat, still so sharp-tongued! I fought the urge to blurt out, “Your old lady used these exact tricks to test you back then, and you almost cried!” Instead, I took a small breath, suppressing the flicker of disrespect and a strange sense of familiarity. Head bowed, focused only on maintaining my disguise, I didn’t notice the increasing depth in Leo’s gaze. “Grandma always said you looked like her when she was young,” he paused, his gaze again sweeping over my face, this time with a more intense scrutiny and an almost perplexed inquiry. He even unconsciously tapped his fingertips on the desk. This was his habitual movement when deep in thought. “But seeing your pig-headed brain, you’re not even a thousandth of her.” I: “!!!” Is that how you talk about your own mother?! I almost couldn’t stop myself from slapping the desk and jumping up, the anger that flared in my eyes and the authoritative air of old Mrs. Lee, though fleeting, made Leo’s tapping fingers suddenly stop. The inquiry in his eyes instantly sharpened, and he even leaned forward slightly, almost imperceptibly, as if to see more clearly. But his next sentence rooted me to the spot, temporarily interrupting his dangerous scrutiny. “Grandma valued two things above all else in her life: the Lee family’s reputation, and the competence of its descendants.” “Before she passed, she repeatedly instructed me never to allow anyone in the Lee family to become a wasteful spendthrift who knew nothing about business.” His gaze swept over me, cold and stern, his tone growing harsher. “You failed four subjects last semester, you don’t even understand basic business principles, and all you do all day is eat, drink, shop, and party.” “With your meager abilities, do you deserve the Lee name? Do you deserve to be Grandma’s granddaughter?” He picked up the top paper, a financial report analysis covered in red crosses, and slammed it down in front of me. “Grandma doted on you most of all in her life, always saying you looked just like her when she was young.” “But seeing your pig-headed brain, you’re not even a thousandth of her!” “Redo all these tests. Every subject must score above 90%.” He leaned in, his voice carrying an undeniable threat. “If you fail to do so…” “Don’t expect to attend Grandma’s gravesite visit.” “I’ll tell everyone that Daisy Lee has no right to stand before Grandma’s tomb—because you’re not worthy of being her granddaughter.”
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