Gujian Qitan
10 Published Stories
Gujian Qitan's Books and Stories
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. 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. 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 Unwanted Wife Is A Zillionaire
Reilly Mcardle For seven years, I played the perfect, hidden wife to billionaire August Chambers while working quietly as an ER nurse.
Three days before our marriage contract expired, he stormed into my emergency room carrying a bleeding woman. It was Allena, his cousin's fiancée.
She had suffered a ruptured corpus luteum from their violent, aggressive sex. Instead of hiding his affair, August ordered me to clear the floor and threw a massive check at my face to buy my silence. Later, his friends trapped me in a VIP club. When a waiter tripped, August violently shoved me aside just to protect Allena from a spilled cup of coffee. I crashed into a glass table, a sharp edge slicing deep into my arm.
"Apologize to her, and I'll have my driver take you to the hospital."
As my blood soaked into the white rug, he stood over me, demanding I get on my knees for his mistress. He didn't know I had faked a miscarriage five years ago to secretly raise our daughter far away from his cruelty. He also didn't know the money he flaunted was pocket change compared to my hidden AI tech empire.
I calmly tied a tourniquet around my bleeding arm with my teeth and wiped my blood directly over his heart onto his custom suit.
"I'm done with you."
The submissive nurse was dead, and it was time to let him burn in the ruins of his own lies. Flash Marriage to the Tycoon, I'm Spoiled Rotten
Hollow Echo Cast out by an "elite" family and mocked by high society, Elena shocked everyone by marrying the most powerful man in town.
They assumed it was a temporary arrangement-after all, he had said, "The agreement is for two years. After that, we're done."
Yet after the wedding, he refused to let her go. "Elena, you can't leave me."
As he doted on her, rumors shattered one by one. A renowned painter, top hacker, and tech mastermind-her true identities stunned the world.
When a luxury empire announced their lost heiress, all eyes turned to her. "Why did she look exactly like Elena?" Abandoned Ex-Wife: Now Untouchable
Tao Yaoyao My five-year-old daughter was dying in the ICU, her heartbeat replaced by the continuous, electronic scream of a flatline. I gripped her cold hand, my throat sealed shut by a terror so absolute I couldn't even cry out.
I dialed my husband Grayson's private number, the one reserved only for me and his assistants. He declined the call instantly. A second later, a text buzzed against my palm:
"In a meeting. Do not disturb. Stop calling."
Five miles away, Grayson was at a luxury gala, adjusting his silk tie and laughing with Belle Escobar. He told her I was just being "dramatic" and using our daughter's "fever" as an excuse to avoid the event. He had no idea Effie's heart had already stopped.
When I finally reached our penthouse, soaked from the rain and carrying Effie's small socks in a plastic bag, Grayson didn't even look at me. He snapped at me for ruining the hardwood floors and asked if I'd left Effie with the nanny just to "feel sorry for myself."
Three days later, while I buried our daughter in a small, lonely ceremony, Grayson was at the Hamptons. Belle posted a photo of him golfing with the caption: "A mental health day with the boys." He didn't even attend the funeral, but he returned home demanding I clear out Effie's room to make a study for Belle's son.
The injustice burned through me until there was nothing left. I swallowed a handful of sleeping pills, desperate to join my daughter. But instead of the darkness, I woke up to blinding lights and the scent of Grayson's expensive cologne.
I was standing in a ballroom, wearing a blue silk dress I had already burned. Above me, a banner read: "Happy 5th Birthday Kaiden & Effie."
I was back, exactly one year before the tragedy. This time, I wasn't going to be the grieving wife. I was going to be their worst nightmare. Married To My Ex-Fiancé's Silent Uncle
Ming Yue Twenty minutes before the "Wedding of the Century" at The Plaza, I stood outside the Presidential Suite in a fifty-thousand-dollar Vera Wang gown. I was the girl from a West Virginia trailer park about to marry Hugh Maxwell, the golden heir to a billion-dollar defense empire.
I pushed the door open only to find Hugh pinned against the bed with my own stepsister, Floy. She was wearing my bridal diamond necklace, and the sounds of their laughter scraped against my eardrums like sandpaper.
I didn't scream; I listened as Hugh grunted that once the wedding was over and the trust fund unlocked, he’d dump "that hillbilly trash" on a bus back to the mountains. They weren't just cheating; they were planning to steal my family’s land deeds and leave me with nothing. When I set off the sprinklers and exposed their naked bodies to the paparazzi, the Maxwell family didn't apologize. They called me a "greedy peasant" and threatened to ruin my life unless I signed a new deal to save their crashing stock.
I realized then that I was never a bride to them. I was a transaction, a rounding error in a ledger to be used and discarded. They thought my poverty made me weak and my silence made me a victim.
"If we don't have a marriage certificate by midnight, the bank freezes thirty percent of our liquidity," their lawyer warned.
So, I gave them exactly what they wanted. I used a loophole in their hundred-year-old family covenant and married the only other direct heir available. I didn't marry Hugh. I walked into the ICU and married his uncle, Fleet Maxwell—the legendary war hero who had been in a vegetative state for months.
Now, I am the matriarch of the Maxwell dynasty. I’ve suspended Hugh’s executive powers, exiled my mother-in-law to the Swiss Alps, and taken control of the family vault. They think I’m just a gold-digger waiting for a "corpse" to die so I can collect a fifty-million-dollar widow's payout.
But last night, as I lay beside my comatose husband, the man they called a vegetable gripped my hand back. Phoenix Of Ruin: My Second Life Comes With A Better Man
Maple Breeze Ashley gave Nicolas ten years of love and five years of loyalty as his perfect housewife, only to be repaid with betrayal, humiliation, and death at the hands of him and his mistress.
After being reborn, she vowed to make them pay.
She tore apart the mistress, kicked her useless husband aside, and returned as the heiress of a top-tier family.
Surrounded by billions, luxury, and a parade of elite bachelors, Ashley became the woman everyone wanted-including a cold, powerful tycoon.
When Nicolas came begging for forgiveness, she smiled coldly. "Fuck off! My man is worth a hundred of you." No Longer Mrs. Cooley: The Architect's Return
Xiao Xiaosu I went to the City Clerk's office for a routine copy of my marriage license to finalize a trust fund audit. I expected a simple piece of paper, but the clerk's pitying look told me my entire life was a lie.
"The license was never finalized, Ms. Oliver. In the eyes of the state, you are single."
The three-hundred-guest wedding at the Plaza and the Vogue features meant nothing. My husband, Gray Cooley, had intentionally filed the documents with a "procedural defect" so he could discard me without a legal divorce. Moments later, an iCloud invite titled "Our Little Secret" popped up on my screen. It was a photo of my best friend, Brylee, holding a positive pregnancy test at our Hamptons estate.
Gray's text to her was the final blow:
"Happy anniversary, babe. This baby is the best gift. Once the trust unlocks today, we're done with the charade."
I soon discovered they were even stealing my career, reassigning my architectural masterpiece to Brylee while preparing my eviction notice. Gray's mother called me a "barren mule" in a leaked recording, mocking the infertility I suffered after saving Gray's life in a construction accident. I wasn't a wife; I was a three-year placeholder used to secure his inheritance.
How could the man I bled for treat me like a disposable prop? How could my best friend carry his child while pretending to comfort me through my darkest moments? The betrayal burned until it turned into a cold, hard stone of fury.
I didn't cry. Instead, I walked into the penthouse of the Barretts, the Cooleys' most powerful rivals. I signed a marriage contract with Kane Barrett, the man the tabloids called the "Beast of Wall Street."
"I want a wedding," I told his father, my voice steady and lethal. "Bigger than the one I had with Gray."
If they wanted me gone, they would have to watch me become the woman who owns their world. Phoenix Rising: The Scarred Heiress's Revenge
Xiao Hong Mao I lived as the "scarred ghost" of the Stephens penthouse, a wife kept in the shadows because my facial burns offended my billionaire husband's aesthetic. For years, I endured Kason's coldness and my family's abuse, a submissive puppet who believed she had nowhere else to go.
The end came with a blue folder tossed onto my silk sheets. Kason's mistress was back, and he wanted me out by sunset, offering a five-million-dollar "silence fee" to go hide my face in the countryside.
The betrayal cut deep when I discovered my father had already traded my divorce for a corporate bailout. My step-sister mocked my "trashy" appearance at a high-end boutique, while the sales staff treated me like a common thief. At home, my father threatened to cut off my mother's life-saving medicine unless I crawled back to Kason to beg for a better deal.
I was the girl who took the blame for a fire she didn't start, the wife who worshipped a man who never looked her in the eye, and the daughter used as a human bargaining chip. I was supposed to be broken, penniless, and desperate.
But the woman who stood up wasn't the weak Elease Finch anymore; she was Phoenix, a tactical predator with a $500 million secret. I signed the divorce papers without a single tear, walked past my stunned husband, and wiped the Finch family's bank accounts clean with a few taps on my phone.
"Your money is dirty," I told Kason with a cold smile. "I prefer clean hands."
The cage is open, the hunt has begun, and I'm starting with the people who thought a scar made me weak. The Humble Ex-wife Is Now A Brilliant Tycoon
Flory Corkery For three quiet, patient years, Christina kept house, only to be coldly discarded by the man she once trusted.
Instead, he paraded a new lover, making her the punchline of every town joke.
Liberated, she honed her long-ignored gifts, astonishing the town with triumph after gleaming triumph.
Upon discovering she'd been a treasure all along, her ex-husband's regret drove him to pursue her. "Honey, let's get back together!"
With a cold smirk, Christina spat, "Fuck off."
A silken-suited mogul slipped an arm around her waist. "She's married to me now. Guards, get him the hell out of here!" Beneath His Ugly Wife's Mask: Her Revenge Was Her Brilliance
Lukas Difabio Elliana, the unfavored "ugly duckling" of her family, was humiliated by her stepsister, Paige, who everyone admired. Paige, engaged to the CEO Cole, was the perfect woman-until Cole married Elliana on the day of the wedding. Shocked, everyone wondered why he chose the "ugly" woman.
As they waited for her to be cast aside, Elliana stunned everyone by revealing her true identity: a miracle healer, financial mogul, appraisal prodigy, and AI genius.
When her mistreatment became known, Cole revealed Elliana's stunning, makeup-free photo, sending shockwaves through the media. "My wife doesn't need anyone's approval." Wild Heiress, Tamed Billionaire
Ruby Stone When I called my husband while trapped in a kidnapper's warehouse, he laughed. "Stop faking," he said, "my delicate mistress needs her sleep." He hung up. I signed the divorce papers drenched in my own blood, giving up everything just to escape the monster I married.
His mother threw a broken umbrella at me in the rain. I had nothing-no money, no identity, no hope.
But the moment I turned away, eight black Escalades encircled the street. A man in a tailored suit stepped out of a Rolls-Royce, shielding me with an umbrella. In his hand was a DNA test-and twenty-three years of relentless search.
"Your last name isn't Smith," he said, wiping blood from my wrist with his handkerchief. "It's Wilder. The Wilder family. And the man who left you to die?" He smiled, icy. "He owes us nine billion dollars." 
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