1 My younger sister, Daisy, came home with her boyfriend every day, yet she never used any form of contraception. When I finally asked why, she calmly explained she was using the “side door.” I warned her that area was delicate, that repeated use could lead to infections and other problems. I told her that in this day and age, people were more open-minded, and a man who truly loved her wouldn’t care if she was a “pure” maiden or not. Daisy took my advice to heart. Later, after she broke up with her boyfriend, our mother set her up with a wealthy heir. On their wedding night, because Daisy didn’t bleed, the groom erupted in a furious rage. The incident spread like wildfire, becoming the talk of the town the very next day. Daisy was publicly humiliated, and she blamed it all on me. Her face contorted into a hideous mask of fury as she forced my head into a pot of scalding boiling water. “It’s all your fault!” she shrieked, her voice thick with venom. “If I had remained a virgin, I could have been a socialite, and no one would be laughing at me!” When I opened my eyes again, I was back to the day Daisy told me she never used contraception. … “Sis, don’t worry. I won’t get pregnant. Every time I’m with Leo, I use the side door.” My sister said, wiggling her hips suggestively. Looking at her face, I felt a shudder of revulsion. The suffocating sensation of boiling water filling my airways, that horrifying memory from my past life, washed over me. It took immense effort to compose myself. “Wow,” I managed, my voice strained. “You’re so clever.” Daisy continued, eager to share her wisdom. “Sis, I’m telling you, that spot can give a guy just as much pleasure. Don’t listen to Mom. It’s the twenty-first century. Living in the moment is what matters.” “It’s because of your old-fashioned thinking that you can’t keep a boyfriend.” I smiled faintly. Daisy’s smugness stemmed from the fact that her current boyfriend, Leo, was my ex. We’d dated for two years, but he’d broken up with me because I refused to have premarital sex. Less than three days after our breakup, Leo and my sister went public with their relationship. It was only when I went to Leo’s apartment to collect my belongings that I discovered they’d been secretly involved for a while. Daisy visited Leo’s rental unit every day, and their raucous antics echoed from the third floor all the way up to the fifth. All the neighbors knew. When I first learned this, my initial reaction wasn't anger, but a chilling realization: if Mom found out, Daisy would be completely ruined. Our father passed away early, leaving Mom to raise Daisy and me alone. Mom was a professional matchmaker, with an impressive network of eligible bachelors from high society. Having dealt with these affluent families for so long, Mom understood their strict requirements for a potential spouse. A key one being: “cleanliness.” So, from a young age, Mom hammered one rule into Daisy and me: dating was fine, but premarital sex was absolutely forbidden. Mom would constantly repeat, her voice earnest: “Marriage is your second chance at life. These men might say they don’t care, but deep down, they all want a pure maiden. You two must guard your boundaries, or don’t blame me for disowning you.” On the way home from Leo’s place, I kept thinking about helping Daisy confess to Mom. To my surprise, when I told Daisy this, she calmly informed me she was still a “pure maiden,” because she hadn’t used the conventional route. I stared for a few seconds, letting her words sink in. Then, my concern shifted to her health. As someone with basic medical knowledge, I knew how delicate the “side door” was. It was merely an excretory opening, with muscles around the sphincter that controlled its tightness. It wasn't meant to be open for long, let alone violently forced open repeatedly. Such abuse would surely damage the muscles and lead to a host of complications. I immediately explained all this to Daisy, telling her, “A man who truly loves you wouldn’t make you suffer like this, nor would he care about that ‘layer.’ If you enjoy that kind of intimacy, use the normal way to experience pleasure. And if someone truly cares about it, we can always get a repair surgery.” Daisy’s eyes lit up at the mention of surgery, and she subsequently changed her habit of using the “side door.” I never imagined that after she broke up with Leo, Mom would set her up with a rich heir. Despite the repair surgery, she still didn’t bleed on her wedding night. After the divorce, she blamed me for everything. Recalling this, I still offered a kind warning. “But constantly using the side door will cause injuries, and it’s prone to infection.” Daisy blinked, a mischievous smile on her face. “As long as you’re careful, it won’t. And besides, Sis, I think I was born with a natural charm. That area can also produce… fluids.” That last part sounded exactly like something Leo would have told her to string her along. Normally, that area doesn’t secrete anything. If it did, it meant only one thing: she was infected. This realization brought a surge of grim satisfaction. I feigned envy. “Is that why Leo likes you so much?” At the same time, I used a burner account to send a bunch of “toys” to Leo’s account. 【Handsome, need some little tools? Free shipping to your door!】 Daisy had always loved stealing my things. When she heard a hint of longing in my voice, she immediately became defensive. “Of course! But you probably don’t have this kind of… constitution, Sis. Now that Leo has had a taste of me, he won’t be interested in you. You should give up on him.” I lowered my head, feigning disappointment. Meanwhile, Leo’s phone buzzed with an incoming message. I quickly recommended several “aggressive” toys. Leo picked a few, sent the money, and I promptly placed an order from a local adult store. As I finished replying, Daisy’s phone vibrated. She picked it up, glanced at it, and her face flushed crimson. A moment later, she stood up, grabbed her bag, and headed for the door. “Sis, I have to go out. Remember to keep this from Mom.” Daisy didn't return that night. When she came back the next day, she could barely walk straight. For the next few days, Leo ordered new “toys” from me daily. The items grew increasingly… extreme, and Daisy’s gait became more and more peculiar. I knew if this continued, Daisy’s body wouldn’t be able to handle it much longer. And the day came sooner than I expected. One Saturday, Daisy clutched my arm, her voice a whispered plea. “Sis, I think… I think it’s torn.” I forced myself to remain calm. “Where?” “Just… there.” She pulled down her pants. “Can you take a look for me? A lot of blood just came out, and it hurts so much.” I grimaced, suppressing a wave of nausea, and saw that the area was indeed not normal. “Sis,” she asked, her voice trembling, “do you think I should go to the hospital? Every time I sneeze these days, I… leak.” That nearly made me vomit. “The hospital?” I frowned. “Do you want Mom to find out you’ve been using the side door?” Mom was very strict about our private lives, and with Daisy staying out lately, she was already suspicious. Daisy’s face fell. “Then what do I do?” I rubbed my hands together. “It doesn’t look too serious. Let’s just go to a small clinic and get some medicine.” Daisy was too embarrassed to go to a proper clinic. In the end, she bought some random ointments online and applied them to the area. Once the medication took effect, Daisy resumed her nightly escapades. But it was clear that the muscles in her “side door” had loosened. She always carried a faint, unsettling odor. Counting the days, I knew it was time. Mom had finally found a suitable rich heir, and the moment she walked in, she was buzzing with excitement, urging Daisy to meet him. “Mr. Chen is truly one in a million, Lily! Worth hundreds of millions, educated abroad, and most importantly, his private life is impeccably clean!” Mom clapped Daisy on the thigh, beaming. “The best part is, he has almost no requirements for his partner, except for one: she must be pure. Daisy, your good fortune has arrived!” Mom was so incredibly excited, but Daisy remained indifferent. “Mom,” she said, flatly, “I don’t want to.” Mom and I both froze. In my past life, Daisy had agreed without a moment’s hesitation. Why was she refusing so quickly now? Mom quickly asked, “Why? Daisy, getting married is like a second chance at life. Don’t you always complain that I haven’t given you good opportunities? This time, I’ve found you an excellent family.” Daisy threw up her hands. “I have a boyfriend.” “Break up with him then,” Mom frowned. “Daisy, you didn’t go and sleep with that boy, did you? You didn’t listen to your mother?” Daisy’s face paled. “Of course not, Mom. I just… don’t want to get married right now. Why don’t you let my sister go on the blind date?” Hearing this, Mom shot me a disgusted glance. “Do you think she’s suitable?” Mom’s hurtful words pierced me like needles. My heart ached. Without a husband, Mom feared gossip, so she was incredibly strict with both me and Daisy. But her strictness was applied very differently. She treated me like a prisoner, while Daisy was her precious child. If I didn't do my homework, she'd rip up all my textbooks and throw them in the trash, leaving me to face the ridicule of teachers and classmates the next day. If Daisy didn't do hers, Mom would just scold her softly. If I broke a bowl, she'd make me kneel all night in the freezing cold. If Daisy broke one, she’d just tap her palms twice. I always suspected I wasn't her biological daughter, even getting a DNA test done when I was an adult. But the results confirmed it: I was indeed her daughter. In my past life, after Daisy pushed me into the scalding water, I was still clinging to life. Mom rushed in, but didn't even spare me a glance. Instead, she worried if Daisy's hands were scalded. With my last ounce of strength, I asked her why she played favorites. She gave me a look of pure disgust. “How am I playing favorites? You’re just petty, that’s why you think I’m biased. Daisy never says I’m biased.” But I knew the real reason: Daisy was prettier than me. Mom always said that in this era, beauty was a resource. She firmly believed Daisy could marry into wealth and uplift our family, so she gambled everything on Daisy’s marriage prospects. Despite Mom’s immense reluctance, she didn't force Daisy to go on the blind date. Unwilling to let such a good opportunity slip through our fingers, she arranged for me to meet Mr. Michael Chen instead. All the way there, she lectured me. “Don’t you dare mention any of your past relationships to Mr. Chen. You’re already not good-looking enough, so if you talk about your past flings, he’ll definitely not be interested.” Sometimes, I wondered if Mom was blind. Daisy stayed out all night, and Mom still believed she was a good girl. I came home on time every day, checked in with her before leaving, yet she still thought I was wild and loose. Thankfully, Michael Chen didn’t seem to care about my appearance. In my previous life, because of his involvement with Daisy, I’d had a poor impression of him. But this time, after talking, I realized he was genuinely a good person. Polite, well-read, and insightful. Just as Mom had said, his only requirement for a partner was personal integrity. This standard, however, stemmed from his own aristocratic background. He was so well-off, and so many women threw themselves at him, yet he remained a virgin. His high standards for himself made his requirement for a partner seem perfectly reasonable. We hit it off. We went on several dates, and our connection grew genuinely. After our last date, a thought even crossed my mind: perhaps my rebirth wasn’t for revenge, but to correct the past, to let me marry Michael Chen. For a moment, marrying Michael Chen seemed like a wonderful idea. But I hadn’t anticipated that after Michael agreed to our engagement, Daisy would break up with Leo. That night, after returning home, she saw Michael. Later that evening, she called Mom into her room. The next morning, Mom told me, “You need to break up with Michael Chen. Your sister wants to be with him.” Her words hit me like a physical blow. I froze for a few seconds. “Isn’t Daisy sick in the head, always stealing other people’s boyfriends? She wanted that trash Leo, and she took him. But now Michael and I are about to get engaged, why does she want to steal him too? Is she addicted to being a mistress?” The words had barely left my mouth when Mom’s hand connected with my cheek, a stinging slap. “Daisy is your sister! How can you say such horrible things? Michael Chen was originally for Daisy! You were the mistress, stealing what was hers!” The slap burned, but it also extinguished the last flicker of love I had for my mother. My patience snapped. “Even so, Michael Chen is my boyfriend now! If she’s so great, let her make him fall for her!” After yelling that, I couldn’t bear to stay in the house. I grabbed my bag and ran out. I knew that if Daisy wanted Michael, Mom would make it happen. But I had faith in Michael. He wasn’t like Leo. I spent the whole day outside, the events of today and my past life replaying like a broken record in my mind. Both then and now, I felt an overwhelming sense of injustice. I thought, after I got engaged to Michael, I would move out. But I hadn’t expected that just a few hours later, before I even made it home, Michael Chen would call. “Vivian,” he said, his voice flat, devoid of emotion, “let’s break up.” My voice trembled with pain. “Why? Is it because of my sister?” A long silence stretched between us. Then Michael spoke, his honesty brutal. “Vivian, you’re a smart woman. You know, people like me, from high society, need a beautiful woman to uphold our reputation. You and your sister have identical family backgrounds. I naturally have to choose the superior one.” “I’m sorry. I’ll offer you some compensation. Just please, don’t try to cling to me. In the future, when we meet, let’s be friends.” Friends? What a load of crap. I hung up, then smashed my phone to pieces. I took a few shaky breaths, but the tears wouldn’t be held back. They poured down my face, a hot, cleansing torrent. I took out my now-smashed phone, preparing to delete all the photos I’d taken with Michael Chen. As I scrolled through a few, my eyes widened. Minutes later, all my anger and resentment melted away, replaced by a strange sense of relief, as I stared at the photo album.
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