Gujian Qitan
11 Published Stories
Gujian Qitan's Books and Stories
The Second Chance Life
Modern The sterile beep of the heart monitor was counting down the final seconds of my life.
Then the door creaked open, and Scarlett Hayes, my husband' s manipulative childhood sweetheart, entered with a venomous smile.
She informed me, with cruel satisfaction, that my husband, Mark, had only married me for a free nurse and babysitter, and that our son, Tommy, wasn't truly mine – he was theirs. My own baby, she revealed, wasn't stillborn, but had been given away by Mark to prevent me from having a "real heir." As she casually unplugged my life support, my world went black.
The silence was deafening, the betrayal immense and crushing. I couldn't comprehend such calculated cruelty, and the pain left me paralyzed in my own body, unable to scream.
But then, a blinding light, a familiar voice, and I gasped, sucking in air that didn' t feel like it came from a machine. I was back in my parents' living room, staring at Mark Peterson, kneeling before me with a velvet box, proposing. It was the day my miserable past life began, and this time, I wouldn't let it. Jilted Bride's Revenge: The Valkyrie Awakens
Modern I had been a wife for exactly six hours when I woke up to the sound of my husband’s heavy breathing. In the dim moonlight of our bridal suite, I watched Hardin, the man I had adored for years, intertwined with my sister Carissa on the chaise lounge.
The betrayal didn't come with an apology. Hardin stood up, unashamed, and sneered at me. "You're awake? Get out, you frumpy mute." Carissa huddled under a throw, her fake tears already welling up as she played the victim. They didn't just want me gone; they wanted me erased to protect their reputations.
When I refused to move, my world collapsed. My father didn't offer a shoulder to cry on; he threatened to have me committed to a mental asylum to save his business merger. "You're a disgrace," he bellowed, while the guards stood ready to drag me away. They had spent my life treating me like a stuttering, submissive pawn, and now they were done with me.
I felt a blinding pain in my skull, a fracture that should have broken me. But instead of tears, something dormant and lethal flickered to life. The terrified girl who walked down the aisle earlier that day simply ceased to exist. In her place, a clinical system—the Valkyrie Protocol—booted up.
My racing heart plummeted to a steady sixty beats per minute. I didn't scream. I stood up, my spine straightening for the first time in twenty years, and looked at Hardin with the detachment of a surgeon looking at a tumor.
"Correction," I said, my voice stripped of its stutter. "You're in my light."
By dawn, I had drained my father's accounts, vanished into a storm, and found a bleeding Crown Prince in a hidden safehouse. They thought they had broken a mute girl. They didn't realize they had just activated their own destruction. Too Late, Mr. Tycoon: Watch Me Bloom
Modern I was a top hand model, just weeks away from marrying billionaire Chase Strong.
But my life was destroyed when my hands were severely burned by an exclusive cream recommended by my bridesmaid, Karis.
The chemical burns ruined my career and cost me a three-million-dollar contract.
When I cried in agony, Chase just frowned in annoyance, calling my pain a dramatic tantrum.
He fiercely protected Karis, claiming she was worried sick about my accident, while his mother openly mocked me as a cripple unfit for their family.
He even crossed my name off our first-class honeymoon tickets and wrote Karis's name instead, telling me it was compensation for her stress.
I didn't understand why the man I loved was so cruel, until I secretly investigated the salon.
I found out the cream was an unlicensed, corrosive chemical Karis deliberately used to disfigure me.
And Chase knew. He was actively covering up her crime, treating me as a convenient placeholder while he protected the woman he truly wanted.
I didn't scream or beg for his love anymore.
On the morning of our multimillion-dollar wedding, I left the ten-carat diamond ring on his nightstand and vanished on a private jet.
As he stood panicked at the altar in front of New York's elite, I sent him one last text:
"I left you everything you ever gave me. Including this wedding." The Jilted Assistant Is A Zillionaire
Modern Grace hid her identity as the heir to a multi-billion-dollar empire just to experience ordinary love, acting as a free, devoted assistant to her actor fiancé, Hayden.
But while delivering his coffee, she caught him cheating with a new actress in his dressing room.
Through the crack in the door, she heard the actress whine about Grace being a feelingless robot.
Hayden just laughed, not stopping his frantic movements.
"She is a shield. She is a boring, free assistant. That is all she is."
He bragged that their upcoming engagement was just a PR stunt to build his perfect boyfriend image, and he would dump her the second he didn't need her.
He thought he held all the power, completely unaware that every massive movie contract and endorsement he had was secretly funded by Grace.
The betrayal poured over Grace like ice water, freezing her heart completely.
She had fought her aristocratic family and lowered herself to serve a man who treated her like disposable trash.
The girl who believed in simple love died in that hallway.
Grace didn't cry or burst into the room. She calmly hit record on her phone, securing the evidence to trigger his morality clause.
Then, she dialed her billionaire mother.
"I made a bad investment. Now I am liquidating the asset."
She was going to artificially inflate his fame to the absolute peak, and when he finally thought he was untouchable, she would strip him of everything. He Saw My Soul, Not My Scars
Modern My husband, Jeremiah, let me die from an allergic reaction because he couldn't pause his video game. He dismissed my kidnapping as a prank and refused to come to the hospital when I was miscarrying our child.
But the final straw came when he ordered doctors to carve skin from my body for his mistress's minor burn.
He thought he had broken me, but he was wrong. I exposed his affair, took his company, and left him with nothing.
Years later, he crashed my wedding to another man, begging for a second chance. "Elena lied to me! She manipulated me! It was always you, Celina!"
I looked at the monster who had destroyed my life, my family, and my child.
Then I picked up a wine bottle and smashed it over his head. The Vows Unspoken
Romance For five years, Liam was my world.
I thought we were building a future, heading for marriage, and I even used my connections to get us VIP tickets to a tech conference-a power move for his career.
Then, on the giant live-stream screen, I watched him kiss his new assistant, Sarah, a deep, passionate embrace for thousands to see.
Hours later, after a dazed walk and a screech of tires, I woke up in a hospital, bruised, concussed, and staring at Liam, who casually informed me he had hit me with his car.
He then lied to my face, claiming Sarah was just his boss, and somehow convinced the hospital I had amnesia, painting me as an unstable woman who' d simply "forgotten" our relationship.
The humiliation deepened when I discovered his hidden journal-a five-year chronicle of how I was merely a "placeholder," a temporary fix until his true love, Sarah, returned.
He tried to reconcile, offering money and calls, but his desperate attempts felt hollow against the truth: he had never seen me as a person, only a convenient stand-in.
Then came the final blow: Sarah announced as the new Head of Architecture, taking the promotion I' d worked years for, a public, corporate execution.
But just as I thought I' d lost everything, a forgotten connection resurfaced.
My Uncle David' s persistent offer of an arranged marriage, a path I' d once dismissed, suddenly glimmered with an unexpected promise.
Little did I know, the man I was about to meet wasn't just a family friend, but a quiet, constant presence from my past, ready to offer a future I never dared to dream of. Justice Served Cold
LGBT+ My 18th birthday was supposed to be a celebration, a chance for my biological family, the Hewitts, to finally accept me.
Living in their lavish Napa Valley winery, I desperately hoped for their love, despite being cast aside for their adopted daughter, Nicole.
But the party turned into a nightmare when Nicole burst in, smeared with fake blood, dramatically accusing me of hiring men to hurt her.
The room erupted.
My "parents" looked at me with disgust, my brother Andrew, the one I' d longed for a bond with, unleashed his fury.
He beat me, kicking me as I collapsed, while my father watched indifferently and my mother prepared to institutionalize me.
They dragged me out like trash, sending me to Dr. Albright' s "behavioral correction facility" – a private asylum for inconvenient children.
I felt a deeper pain than any physical blow; the betrayal was absolute, the injustice unbearable.
How could they believe such a monstrous lie? How could my own family turn on me so viciously, so easily?
They broke Molly there, with every needle and shock, every whispered lie, until, on the brink of sexual assault, her gentle spirit gave way.
But a whisper echoed in my mind: "Stella… make them pay."
That night, Molly died, and I, Stella, was born, ready to exact a chilling revenge. My Second Death, My Second Chance
Young Adult I died once trying to be a hero.
It was after high school graduation, at Brad Thompson' s notorious "End of the World Bash" lake party.
I warned everyone about the spiked punch and Brad's predatory nature, but my girlfriend Tiffany scoffed, and my childhood friend Sarah, blinded by her crush on Brad, turned away.
They went, everyone went, except me.
Later, Sarah blamed me for ruining her shot with Brad; one rainy Tuesday, she found me and ended my first life with a knife.
Then, I woke up, gasping, back in my high school bedroom, reliving the day Brad would announce his party.
I wasn't dead.
But then I saw Sarah in the hallway.
She remembered everything too.
And her already dangerous obsession with Brad had intensified, chillingly so.
"This time, I' m going to be by Brad' s side. No matter what," she whispered, a promise that sent shivers down my spine.
I tried to avert disaster, to warn everyone away from that party, but Tiffany broke up with me for being a 'buzzkill.'
Brad' s jock friends cornered me, forcing me to attend.
I desperately tried to record Brad admitting his punch was spiked, but they caught me.
Brad had his goons lock me in the boathouse, just before the cops raided.
But instead of being safe, it was worse.
Sarah pointed at me, claiming, "He' s the one who brought the spiked punch!"
Tiffany and Brad quickly corroborated her lie.
I was arrested, charged with felony drug distribution, for something I had fought to prevent.
My childhood friend, now my accuser, was willing to destroy my life to preserve her twisted fantasy with Brad.
Her obsession was a cancer, eating away at her humanity, and I was caught directly in its malignant path.
Was this second chance just another slow, agonizing death, orchestrated by the very person who ended my first?
My confiscated phone might hold hidden fragments of truth.
Could those damaged recordings be my only proof, my sole hope to prove my innocence and change a grim fate once more? My Perfect Marriage, His Secret Sons
Romance My life with Ethan Hayes was the American dream: a brilliant tech visionary, a devoted husband, and a seemingly perfect marriage.
He built her a state-of-the-art lab, named a literacy program after her, and swore he'd walk away from everything for her.
I believed him, utterly, deeply, until I stumbled upon a hidden folder on his laptop.
There, I found photos of Chloe Van Doren holding two baby boys, clearly Ethan's sons, his secret family.
Dates on the pictures stretched back over a year, overlapping perfectly with our "perfect" marriage.
The horror of his betrayal was matched only by the shocking truth she carried: I was also pregnant with his child, a dream now turned into a nightmare.
Every loving gesture, every tender word, every shared memory was instantly poisoned by his calculated deceit.
How could the man I loved be so captivatingly charming, yet so utterly, viciously deceptive?
I was trapped in a gilded cage of his lies, my trust shattered beyond repair.
I couldn't just walk away and be free; his control ran too deep.
So, I had to choose a more extreme escape plan.
I had to vanish, leaving behind nothing but a tragic, staged death. You might like
The Neglected Wife's Vicious Comeback Game
Xiu Luo On our third anniversary, my husband canceled our dinner, claiming a sudden work emergency.
I tracked his phone to an exclusive French restaurant, only to find him tenderly fastening a blessed bracelet—one I had flown across the world to get for him—onto his college ex-girlfriend's wrist.
The sheer shock triggered a violent placental abruption. Bleeding out in my car just across the street, I frantically called his number. Through the window, I watched him glance at his screen, frown in annoyance, and press decline to focus on his lover. While I was wheeled into a freezing operating room for an emergency C-section utterly alone, he took his mistress back to our marital bed.
He didn't even bother to check if I was alive, completely oblivious that our premature daughter was fighting for her life in the NICU. I soon discovered our entire marriage was a sham. He had used my family's wealth to save his company, and now he was trading me to secure a massive business deal with his ex's father. The man I loved didn't exist; he only saw me as a disposable asset.
"I'm going to make him wish he had never been born."
After secretly securing my baby in a private retreat, I ordered a medical-grade silicone pregnancy belly to hide my flat stomach. I stepped back into our penthouse, ready to burn his precious empire to the ground. Shielded By The Ruthless Military Boss
Mo Yufei I was an intern nurse working exhausting shifts, yet my mother constantly forced me into blind dates with wealthy, arrogant men to secure our family's social standing.
During a terrifying hospital lockdown, an assassin disguised as a doctor held a scalpel to my throat. I was almost killed, but a high-ranking military colonel threw his own body down a flight of concrete stairs to shield me.
I survived with cuts and bruises, but when I went home, my mother didn't care about my near-death experience. She was only furious that I had rushed out on my blind date with Preston, a rich financial analyst.
She forced me to meet him to apologize. When Preston grabbed my arm, bruised me, and mocked my attack as a pathetic lie, my mother still took his side.
"Men get angry," she told me coldly. "It's your job not to provoke them. You will beg for his forgiveness, or you are no longer welcome in this house."
I had narrowly escaped an assassin, yet my own family was willing to feed me to a monster just for a fat paycheck and neighborhood gossip.
My heart went completely dead.
So, when the intimidating Colonel appeared, offering me maximum military protection through a sudden marriage, I didn't hesitate.
I walked back into my parents' house and calmly slapped a crisp marriage certificate onto the coffee table.
"I won't be apologizing to Preston. I got married today." Flash Marriage To My Best Friend's Father
Madel Cerda I was once the heiress to the Solomon empire, but after it crumbled, I became the "charity case" ward of the wealthy Hyde family. For years, I lived in their shadows, clinging to the promise that Anson Hyde would always be my protector.
That promise shattered when Anson walked into the ballroom with Claudine Chapman on his arm. Claudine was the girl who had spent years making my life a living hell, and now Anson was announcing their engagement to the world.
The humiliation was instant. Guests sneered at my cheap dress, and a waiter intentionally sloshed champagne over me, knowing I was a nobody. Anson didn't even look my way; he was too busy whispering possessively to his new fiancée. I was a ghost in my own home, watching my protector celebrate with my tormentor.
The betrayal burned. I realized I wasn't a ward; I was a pawn Anson had kept on a shelf until he found a better trade. I had no money, no allies, and a legal trust fund that Anson controlled with a flick of his wrist.
Fleeing to the library, I stumbled into Dallas Koch-a titan of industry and my best friend's father. He was a wall of cold, absolute power that even the Hydes feared.
"Marry me," I blurted out, desperate to find a shield Anson couldn't climb.
Dallas didn't laugh. He pulled out a marriage agreement and a heavy fountain pen.
"Sign," he commanded, his voice a low rumble. "But if you walk out that door with me, you never go back."
I signed my name, trading my life for the only man dangerous enough to keep me safe. While I Was Bleeding Out, He Lit Lanterns For Her
Katie Oettgen As I lay on the floor of our manor, bleeding out from a ruptured ectopic pregnancy, I used my last ounce of strength to call my husband, Cole.
I begged him for help, my vision blurring.
But the only thing I heard was the clinking of champagne glasses and his mistress's giggle in the background.
"Stop the drama, June," Cole snapped, his voice cold. "We're about to go on stage. Don't call again."
He hung up, leaving me to die alone on the Persian rug while he accepted an award with another woman on his arm.
I woke up in the hospital days later. My baby was gone. They had removed my fallopian tube.
Cole finally arrived, smelling of expensive scotch and his mistress's perfume. He didn't hug me. He didn't cry.
Instead, he leaned over my hospital bed, pressing his knee into the mattress until my fresh stitches tore open and bled.
"You embarrassed me by calling an ambulance," he hissed. "My mistress, Alycia, says you're faking it. Clean yourself up."
He left me bleeding again to go announce a $10 million donation to Alycia's "groundbreaking" medical research.
I stared at the TV screen, numb. The research Alycia was taking credit for? It was mine. I wrote that patent years ago under a pseudonym.
They thought I was just a poor, orphan housewife who needed Cole's money to survive.
They had no idea I was actually a billionaire scientist hiding my identity.
I pulled the IV needle out of my arm. A drop of blood fell onto the divorce papers I had been hiding.
I didn't wipe it off. I signed my name right over it.
Then I walked into the bank, reactivated my dormant account with $128 million, and bought the penthouse directly overlooking Cole's house.
The mourning widow is dead. The avenger is born. His Unwanted Wife Is A Tech Genius
Elroy Notman For three years, Cali Sullivan abandoned her brilliant tech career to be the quiet, accommodating wife of billionaire Halsey Donovan.
But on her thirtieth birthday, she returned to their London mansion only to find it empty. The housekeeper, looking at her with deep pity, revealed that Halsey had taken his female friend, Brittaney, out shopping to celebrate her birthday instead.
He had even taken their young daughter, Lily, with them. When Cali called him, Halsey coldly dismissed her, his attention entirely on Brittaney's bright laughter in the background. The crushing blow came the next morning when Cali stood outside Lily's bedroom and overheard her own daughter's innocent wish.
"I wish Auntie Brittaney could be my new mommy. I think Daddy would like that, too."
Later that afternoon, Cali saw them through the window of a private club. Halsey was wiping a smudge from Lily's face with a tender focus he never showed his wife, while Brittaney casually fed him cake. They looked like the perfect, happy family. All of Cali's desperate love and sacrifices felt like a cruel joke. She had been entirely erased from her own family.
In that moment, the agonizing pain just stopped, replaced by a cold, absolute clarity. Cali drafted a divorce agreement waiving every cent of his wealth, left her platinum wedding rings on the nightstand, and booked a one-way flight back to New York. She was no longer Mrs. Donovan; it was time to get her real name back. One Night With My Billionaire Boss
Nathaniel Stone I woke up on silk sheets that smelled of expensive cedar and cold sandalwood, a world away from my cramped apartment in Brooklyn.
Beside me lay Ezra Gardner-my boss, the billionaire CEO of Gardner Holdings, and the man who could end my career with a snap of his fingers.
He didn't offer an apology for the night before; instead, he looked at me with terrifying clarity and proposed a cold, calculated business arrangement.
"Marriage. It stabilizes the board and solves the PR crisis before it begins."
He dressed me in archival Chanel and sent me home in his Maybach, but my life was already falling apart. My boyfriend, Irving, claimed he had passed out early, yet his location data placed him at my best friend's apartment until three in the morning. When I tried to run, I realized Ezra was already ten steps ahead, tracking my movements and uncovering the secret I'd spent twenty years hiding: my connection to the powerful Senator Grimes.
I was trapped between a CEO who treated me like a line item on a quarterly report and a boyfriend who had been using me while sleeping with my closest friend. I felt like a pawn in a game I didn't understand, wondering why a man like Ezra would walk up forty flights of stairs on a broken leg just to make sure I was safe.
"Showtime, Mrs. Gardner."
Standing on the red carpet in a gown that cost more than my life, I watched my cheating ex-boyfriend's face turn pale as Ezra claimed me in front of the world. I wasn't just an assistant anymore; I was a weapon, and it was time to burn their world down. The Runaway Wife: Escaping His Gilded Cage
Jing Buhui Ava had been married to Wall Street titan Damian Carlisle for three years, an orphan chosen by his late grandmother solely to provide an heir.
But at the matriarch's funeral, Damian stood intimately before the flashing cameras with his childhood sweetheart, Isabelle.
The entire elite family deliberately excluded Ava, leaving her standing alone in the shadows.
The guests whispered about how perfect Damian and Isabelle looked together, completely ignoring the actual wife standing right there.
To Damian, Ava was nothing more than a piece of inherited furniture he didn't know where to place.
Realizing she was just a discarded placeholder, Ava quietly left the estate and sent him divorce papers.
But Isabelle secretly intercepted the legal documents to keep Damian in the dark.
Enraged when he finally discovered her escape, Damian tracked Ava down to her shabby Brooklyn rental.
He smashed through her door, physically dragged her out in the middle of the night, and forced her back to the sprawling estate.
He installed new locks on the reinforced windows, pinned her to the bed, and coldly commanded her to fulfill her biological duty.
"You owe this family, Ava. You were given everything, and this is how you will repay that debt."
Trapped in the dark, a chilling despair washed over her as she realized a piece of paper could never free her.
Against his absolute wealth and power, her rights and her tears meant absolutely nothing.
But as her gaze fell on the corporate financial reports she had been secretly analyzing, her fear vanished.
If the law couldn't beat him, she would use the only language he understood.
She would accept the executive position at his rival's firm, dismantle his empire piece by piece, and personally ruin him. Pampered By The Cold Mind Reading Tycoon
Hen Bu I woke up from a coma in the hospital, universally condemned as the vicious daughter who pushed the beloved fake heiress, Georgina, down the stairs.
My ruthless billionaire brother, Angelo, stood over my bed with cold eyes, ready to destroy me for hurting his precious sister.
But as I looked at him, a terrifying prophecy from my coma flooded my brain. Our entire family was doomed.
In the original timeline, Georgina would team up with corporate rivals to bankrupt the company, frame Angelo, and send him to federal prison, while our parents would abandon me to die miserably.
Lying there, I didn't dare speak. I just desperately cursed my idiot brother in my head.
"This stupid brother is still yelling at me for that fake heiress. He doesn't even know he's going to be framed and sent to prison next month!"
I just wanted to stay quiet, let them ruin themselves, and run away from this toxic family.
But strangely, Angelo didn't strangle me. Instead, his attitude took a shocking turn.
He abruptly fired the driver plotting to kill him, destroyed the abusive fiancé of a family ally, and publicly humiliated Georgina at a high-society gala.
He even shielded me from our abusive parents, declaring to the world that I was the only sister he would ever protect.
I was completely terrified and confused. Why was the tyrant brother suddenly acting like a protective beast?
It wasn't until he flawlessly crushed a massive corporate attack using the exact financial secrets I had just complained about in my mind that a horrifying realization hit me.
He could hear my inner thoughts! He Thought I Was A Doormat, Until I Ruined Him
SHANA GRAY The sterile white of the operating room blurred, then sharpened, as Skye Sterling felt the cold clawing its way up her body. The heart monitor flatlined, a steady, high-pitched whine announcing her end. Her uterus had been removed, a desperate attempt to stop the bleeding, but the blood wouldn't clot. It just kept flowing, warm and sticky, pooling beneath her.
Through heavy eyes, she saw a trembling nurse holding a phone on speaker. "Mr. Kensington," the nurse's voice cracked, "your wife... she's critical." A pause, then a sweet, poisonous giggle. Seraphina Miller. "Liam is in the shower," Seraphina's voice purred. "Stop calling, Skye. It's pathetic. Faking a medical emergency on our anniversary? Even for you, that's low." Then, Liam's bored voice: "If she dies, call the funeral home. I have a meeting in the morning." Click. The line went dead.
A second later, so did Skye. The darkness that followed was absolute, suffocating, a black ocean crushing her lungs. She screamed into the void, a silent, agonizing wail of regret for loving a man who saw her as a nuisance, for dying without ever truly living.
Until she died, she didn't understand. Why was her life so tragically wasted? Why did her husband, the man she loved, abandon her so cruelly? The injustice of it all burned hotter than the fever in her body.
Then, the air rushed back in. Skye gasped, her body convulsing violently on the mattress. Her eyes flew open, wide and terrified, staring blindly into the darkness. Her trembling hand reached for her phone. May 12th. Five years ago. She was back. 
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