Jiuye Fenglin
12 Published Stories
Jiuye Fenglin's Books and Stories
Reborn Mother: The Billionaire's Ruthless Bride
Billionaires In my past life, I was the naive surrogate who fell desperately in love with Karson King, an untouchable Wall Street billionaire.
I thought my blind devotion would earn me a place in his family. Instead, his cruel mother forced me to sign away my parental rights to my three-year-old daughter.
I was locked in a dark, freezing basement. I watched helplessly as his arrogant relatives tormented my child, pushing her down a flight of marble stairs and shattering her tiny arm.
When we finally died in a horrific car crash, my face covered in blood amidst the shattered glass, Karson didn't shed a single tear. To him, my death was just the convenient erasure of a cheap mistake.
I sacrificed my dignity for his approval, but they treated us worse than stray dogs. Why did my innocent daughter have to pay the ultimate price for their ruthless arrogance?
Opening my eyes again, the harsh glare of a massive crystal chandelier pierced my vision. I was back in the grand foyer of the King estate, exactly five years ago.
"Sign it. You are nothing but a gold digger."
My soon-to-be mother-in-law slammed the thick legal contract onto the marble table, demanding I give up my daughter.
This time, the paralyzing fear evaporated, replaced by absolute, icy clarity.
I didn't cower. I picked up the pen, looked right at the billionaire who despised me, and prepared to manipulate his entire empire. Fired By The Father Of My Child
Romance Six years ago, Breanna was shoved into a pitch-black hotel suite by her own uncle.
She was forced to endure a brutal night with a drugged stranger just to keep her grandmother's ventilator running.
Nine months later, she gave birth in a cold underground clinic.
But her uncle immediately snatched the crying newborn from her trembling hands, coldly announcing the baby had died.
For six years, Breanna lived in agonizing grief, working as a lowly hotel cleaner just to survive.
But a cruel setup threw her directly into the path of Elliot Finch, the arrogant billionaire from that dark night.
He did not recognize the woman whose life he had completely ruined.
Instead, he looked at her like she was rotting garbage, had his guards drag her into a wet alley, and mercilessly got her fired.
"If I ever see your face again, I will make sure you cannot get a job cleaning toilets."
Breanna was suffocating from the injustice, stripped of her dignity and her family's only lifeline.
Yet, when she instinctively protected a traumatized little boy from bullies, she discovered he was Elliot's son.
The boy clung to her neck, crying and desperately begging his father to let her stay.
But Elliot just threw a massive check at her chest, violently accusing her of brainwashing a sick child for a meal ticket.
Looking at the toxic disgust in his eyes, something inside Breanna finally broke.
She picked up the check, ripped the millions into tiny shreds, and let them rain down on his expensive shoes.
"Keep your dirty money."
She turned her back on the crying boy and the stunned billionaire, deciding she would no longer be their victim. A Billionaire Heiress From The Ashes
Modern My husband, Deegan, plunged a needle into my heavily pregnant belly. He said it was a mild sedative to "slow things down." The truth was a brutal betrayal.
His brother's widow, Karmen, was also due, and her son had to be born first to secure the family inheritance. He was sacrificing our child for money.
He locked me in a panic room, leaving me to suffer through agonizing contractions alone.
His sister found me, not to help, but to kick me and let her venomous snake sink its fangs into my arm.
As I lay bleeding out, my baby dying inside me, he had all the life-saving medical equipment moved to Karmen's private clinic, leaving me with nothing.
He called me a manipulative actress, a gold-digger trying to steal the inheritance. The man who swore to protect me left me to die on a cold floor, choosing a birthright over his own child.
But I didn't die. My billionaire father saved me, and I was reborn from the ashes of my grief. Years later, when Deegan stormed into my boardroom, convinced he could drag his "dead" wife home, I looked at the pathetic man he'd become. I slowly pulled the wedding ring from my finger and let it fall to the floor.
"The woman who loved you died that night." My Sister's Betrayal, My New Life
Modern I thought my partner Brayden and I were building an empire together. He was my rock, my partner in life and business, the man who understood my ambition to save my family's restaurant.
But one night, I woke up to his laughter mixed with another, sickeningly familiar voice-my little sister, Holly. They weren't just having an affair.
I listened from the shadows as they plotted to steal my restaurant, my recipes, and my entire life's work.
They mocked my dreams of starting a family, dreams Brayden had always dismissed with me. Holly was pregnant with his child, and they planned to rebrand my legacy as their own, leaving me with nothing.
The two people I trusted most weren't just stealing my future; they were erasing my past. They saw me as a fool, too blinded by loyalty to see their betrayal.
They were right about one thing: the Clare they knew was about to disappear. But not in the way they expected. I made a call to a controversial neuroscientist, ready to undergo an experimental procedure to erase my memory, change my identity, and orchestrate their complete and utter ruin. Revenge Is Sweet When Love Dies
Romance I gave up a life in London for my high school sweetheart, Blake Shaw. He repaid me by leaving me to be trampled by a panicked crowd while he saved another girl. That was just the beginning.
His obsession with being a hero to the fragile transfer student, Kris Gray, became a slow poison. He abandoned me during dates, gave me food I was deathly allergic to, and ignored my screams for help when I was assaulted. Each time he chose her, it was another cut, until I was raw and bleeding.
The end came when he believed her most vicious lie.
He looked at me with cold certainty as he called the police, framing me for a crime I didn't commit.
I watched from the back of the cop car as he held her, the hero protecting his damsel from the monster he had made me into. My love didn't just break that day; it turned to dust.
My family wiped the charges and put me on the next jet to London. I never looked back.
Until now. Five years later, I'm back, and Blake is about to learn that some choices come with consequences you can never outrun. Heartbreak, Betrayal, and Billion-Dollar Revenge
Romance After two years of brutal IVF treatments, I finally held a positive pregnancy test in my hand. I was the brains behind our billion-dollar tech company, and this baby was meant to be my greatest joint venture with my husband, Harden.
Then an anonymous text arrived. It was a video of Harden kissing an Instagram model, his hand high on her thigh. A second text followed: a bank statement showing he'd stolen millions from our company to pay for her.
I decided to go to the company gala and use my pregnancy to save us. But his mistress, Celine, showed up first, also claiming to be pregnant.
In front of everyone, my mother-in-law embraced her, calling her the true mother of the next heir. She gave Celine the family necklace she had refused to let me wear on my own wedding day.
Later, Celine shoved me. I fell, and a searing pain shot through my abdomen. I was bleeding on the ground, losing our miracle baby. I begged Harden for help.
He glanced at me, annoyed. "Stop being so dramatic," he said, before turning his back to comfort his mistress.
But as my world went dark, another man ran to my side. My biggest rival, Atticus Rios. He was the one who scooped me into his arms and raced me to the hospital.
When I woke up, the baby gone and my world in ashes, he was still there. He looked at me and made an offer. An alliance. A chance to take everything from the men who wronged us and burn their empires to the ground. The Wife Who Buried Our Child
Romance The rain fell on my daughter Lily' s tiny coffin. She was only six. I looked for my wife, Sarah, but she wasn' t there; everyone said she was overcome with grief.
But when I returned home, I heard her voice from the patio. She was smiling, talking to her ex-boyfriend Mark, purring, "It's done now. She's gone. Her birth was an accident anyway. A mistake that tied me down for six years." Then, she uttered the words that shattered my world forever: "The trip to Switzerland wasn't for some new miracle treatment... It was for euthanasia. It was quicker that way. Cleaner."
Just hours after burying our child, Sarah and Mark were laughing in my living room, celebrating her death as "a special occasion." The house, once a home, now felt like a tomb of lies. My daughter' s room was eerily empty, every trace of her existence erased, as if she had never lived.
I was living in a nightmare. My wife, the mother of my child, betrayed and murdered our daughter, then tried to erase her memory from our home. The woman I loved was a monster, celebrating her freedom from a child she called a "burden."
A cold resolve filled me. I packed Lily' s few remaining treasures, left Sarah and her lover, and drove to our secret clubhouse. I wouldn't let her erase Lily. This wasn't over. My fight for justice for my daughter, for her legacy, had just begun. Erased, Not Forgotten
Fantasy I died in Montana, exiled to a sanatorium by my husband, the President, who called me "unstable" because a broken heart dared to challenge his polished image.
One moment I was staring at a cracked ceiling, the next I was a ghost, bound to my husband, Julian, watching him sign documents in the Oval Office, oblivious to my spectral presence.
He had no idea I was dead, no idea I was trapped, a silent witness to his new life with Savannah Reed, his predatory mistress, who now occupied my White House, my roles, and even my family's legacy.
My very existence was being systematically erased – my name scorned, my achievements dismissed, and soon, even my beloved son Leo's resting place was threatened by their callous ambition.
How could the man I built, the man I loved, betray me so completely, framing me for a scandal I never committed, mocking my grief, and now plotting to defile our son's memory?
But even in death, a truth demands to be heard, and soon, the empire Julian built on lies began to crumble, promising a reckoning that would either free my soul or drag him into the abyss he created. Pampered by the Ruthless Boss: A Deceptive Sweetness
Mafia My last memory was the smell of ancient celluloid in a 21st-century archive, then a sharp chest pain. I woke up to the stench of gin and stale perfume, trapped in a stranger's body, in 1920s Chicago. My own mother, a faded vaudeville dancer, sold me to a notorious gang boss, Artie Gallo, for a sapphire cloche hat.
I found a flicker of connection with Leo, the kind projectionist, and risked everything to steal medicine for the starving poor. But when Artie discovered our secret, Leo, the only person I' d dared to trust, pointed a trembling finger at me. "She made me do it." The betrayal was a physical blow, worse than the whip that lashed my back in Artie's cursed cellar.
They threw me back in my room, broken and left to fester. The film, my last connection to my old life, gone with him. My body healed, but my soul was twisted into something cold and hard. How could he? How could the one pure thing I found in this nightmare turn out to be the cruelest blade?
When I finally emerged, adorned in garish makeup and a deceptively sweet smile, the old Clara was gone. I would become the woman Artie wanted, the woman this brutal world demanded. And I would make sure everyone who ever wronged me paid the price, even if it meant burying every last piece of my humanity. Their Betrayal, Her Billions
Sci-fi My world was a bland digital prison, my consciousness shunted into OmniVerse after their "Full Dive VR Consciousness Upload" experiment went belly-up, leaving me stuck in a hideous default avatar.
I streamed as SeraphSix, a voice of calm in the chaos, but I was constantly battling the insidious rumors calling me a "catfish" and a fraud.
Rival streamer JessiByte, more cleavage than content, fanned those flames, and "KevlarKing," my biggest tipper, arrogantly challenged me to turn on my face cam for a pathetic five hundred dollars, clearly wanting to impress her and humiliate me.
He'd even stooped to leaking a blurry, out-of-context screenshot of my plain default avatar, trying to make me look bad.
The constant accusations, fueled by their jealousy and entitlement, were draining.
Living as merely a voice behind a mask, fighting off attacks from those who sought to expose me as a "fraud" because my forced avatar didn't match the allure they imagined from my voice and intellect, felt like a constant insult to my true self.
My real life had been about beauty and presence; this default skin was a torment, and the whole situation entirely unfair, festering with cold anger.
Why was I stuck fighting in this superficial world that judged only surface, while my intellectual contributions were dismissed? Why did they so desperately want to expose a "plainness" that wasn't even mine?
Just as I prepared to end another exhausting stream, a private notification from the System flashed: "Host compensation protocol initiated. Restitution package available. Replicate original biometric signature onto current avatar?"
My breath caught.
My real face. The one I thought I' d lost forever.
The game was about to change. You might like
Wrong Room: Sleeping With My Fiancé's Uncle
Natala O'neal To revenge herself on her unfaithful fiancé Kevin, Isidora hides her striking beauty behind a plain disguise, and targets his uncle - the most formidable man Kevin fears.
After one reckless night, Isidora leaves cash as payment and says lightly, "You were good last night." She tries to leave quietly, but is pulled into his arms.
"You think you can walk away after this?" he says, his tone low and possessive.
Cedrick is a feared, untouchable titan on Wall Street - elegant, aloof, and completely uninterested in women. Not even the most beautiful socialites in the city can catch his eye. When gossip spreads that he was seen pressing a woman against a wall and kissing her fiercely, no one believes it.
When the rumors name Isidora, the crowd scoffs. He rejects even the most beautiful women, so why would he notice a plain girl like her?
All doubt disappears when they see the dignified Cedrick drop to one knee to help Isidora with her shoe, pleading softly for just one kiss.
When Kevin finally sees Isidora's true beauty and begs for forgiveness. But Cedrick kicks him out at once, slams a marriage certificate on the table, and says sharply.
"Call her Aunt." The Jilted Wife Is A Secret Heiress
Zi Ya The Wellington beef sat cold on the mahogany table, a graying monument to three years of wasted devotion. It was my birthday and our anniversary, but my husband, Hamilton McKee, didn't even look at the gift I’d spent months knitting.
"Our marriage is a transaction," he said, his voice cutting like a scalpel. "Stop trying to make it a romance novel. I just need you to stop existing in my space for five minutes."
Then his phone buzzed with a call from Cuba, the ex-girlfriend he never truly left. His cold mask shattered into frantic concern, a look he had never once given me. "I'm coming," he whispered to her, sprinting for the door without a backward glance at the wife he was leaving behind.
I chased him into the freezing Boston night, only to be swarmed by predatory paparazzi. As Hamilton’s Maybach roared away, a heavy camera bag slammed into my shoulder. I slipped on the black ice, my skull hitting a granite gate pillar with a sickening crack.
Warm blood trickled down my neck, and as the world tilted, the fog in my brain finally cleared. I wasn't the penniless orphan from Southie he thought I was. Images of sterile operating rooms, complex sutures, and a billion-dollar inheritance flooded back—along with the memory of the car wreck three years ago where I was the one who pulled Hamilton from the flames, not Cuba.
How could I have spent three years begging for scraps of affection from a man who didn't even recognize his own savior? Why did I let a fraud steal my life while I played the role of a submissive shadow?
When I woke up in the hospital, the trembling girl was gone. I ripped the IV from my arm and stared at the man who had come back only to demand I stay out of his way. I didn't cry. I didn't beg. I simply handed him a piece of paper with one word written in the sharp, confident script of a woman who owned half the city: DIVORCE.
"Sign it, Hamilton," I said, my voice like ice. "Because by tomorrow, I’m not just leaving you—I’m taking the McKee empire with me." The Jilted Wife's Spectacular Billionaire Comeback
Zhi Yao For ten years, I was the perfect, obedient wife to my wealthy husband, managing his severe OCD and hosting flawless high-society parties.
But on our tenth anniversary, when I brought him his special hangover soup, I caught him sleeping with my younger sister in our master bedroom.
Instead of panicking, he coldly handed me divorce papers with zero assets. He told me I was just a "placeholder" until my sister finished her degree and was ready to take my spot.
Desperate, I called my mother for help, only to find out she had known about their affair for years.
"You don't have Jana's drive or her looks. You clean house and you cook. That's not a wife, that's a domestic."
My own mother sneered at me, telling me to walk away quietly because our family needed his financial support.
They kicked me out of the penthouse with nothing but a suitcase, laughing that a woman who hadn't worked in a decade would end up begging on the streets.
I bled for this family for ten years, only to be thrown away like garbage when my sister wanted my life.
But they didn't know that while I was playing the boring housewife, I had secretly earned a Cordon Bleu diploma, a Cornell nutrition certification, and a Columbia master's degree.
Using a hidden photo to blackmail a property out of him, I packed my elite credentials and landed a $300,000-a-year job managing a billionaire's estate.
When my ex-husband drunkenly called days later demanding I come back to serve him, I calmly hit block. The Jilted Heiress's Ruthless Billionaire Revenge
Gray Matter For five years, I abandoned my status as the heiress of the powerful Montgomery family to play the role of a poor, submissive housewife for Barrett.
Then, a bank notification popped up on my phone. Barrett had forged my digital signature and transferred our entire $50 million joint trust fund to a woman named Crista Reid.
When I called his boardroom to confront him, he humiliated me in front of a dozen Wall Street executives.
"Stop acting like a hysterical housewife. You're living in a penthouse I pay for, so don't embarrass yourself."
I broke into his encrypted laptop and uncovered the sickening truth. Crista was his mistress, and they had a five-year-old son together.
Barrett hadn't just stolen my money; he had spent years painting me as a helpless charity case he rescued, completely erasing the fact that my financial models built his entire company.
He thought I was just a discarded peasant he could manipulate, cheat on, and replace. He truly believed he held absolute power over my life.
He had no idea that I still possessed the highest security clearance of the Montgomery empire.
I pulled an old BlackBerry from a hidden wall compartment, plugged it in, and dialed my family's lawyer.
"Draft the prenup for Commodore Clayton IV," I ordered, choosing to marry Wall Street's most ruthless predator. "I'm done playing the peasant." From Prison Cell To Billionaire's Target
Jv Lingxian The freezing rain lashed against my face as I clung to the iron gates of the Hendrix estate, begging for a chance to prove I didn't kill my best friend.
I had come here for mercy, but the man I had secretly loved for years had a different plan. He didn't want to hear my truth; he wanted to see me broken.
As the sun rose, the estate manager delivered the final blow. He shoved Emery’s phone into my face, showing a forged text message that framed me for her death, then turned his back as the gates slammed shut.
My own family didn't offer a lifeline, either. When the police came for me, my parents didn't fight for my innocence; they chose to disown me to save their bank accounts from Alfredo’s wrath.
I was thrown into Rikers Island, stripped of my dignity, and subjected to years of calculated, brutal torture paid for by the man who once held my heart.
How could the person I loved turn my life into a private slaughterhouse based on a lie?
After three years of hell, I walked out of those prison gates with nothing but a scarred body and a hollow soul. The woman who loved Alfredo Hendrix died in that cell. Now, I’m back in the city where it all began, and I’m done hiding. The Trophy Wife's Ruthless Revenge
Little Pink Lace Keely returned to her Manhattan penthouse a day early, expecting the loving billionaire husband who had just told her how much he missed her.
Instead, the scent of cheap vanilla perfume led her to the guest room, where she found Haden tangled in the sheets with his timid, soft-spoken secretary.
To the world, Haden was the flawless, devoted partner. He would even beat a man to a bloody pulp at a high-society gala just for insulting her, violently claiming he was protecting his wife.
But behind his golden-retriever facade lay a narcissistic monster. While begging for her affection and making her breakfast, he was secretly draining their marital assets into offshore accounts in the Cayman Islands.
Keely had to swallow her disgust, forcing a perfect smile as she played the clueless, dependent trophy wife he wanted her to be.
It made her physically sick. She couldn't understand how the man who looked into the camera with eyes full of love just last night could be the same thief plotting to leave her with nothing. Was his violent, suffocating obsession with her just a sick cover for his betrayal?
But Haden didn't know his "helpless" wife was actually the ruthless CTO of a tech empire. She had already hacked the home surveillance and traced the missing funds, ready to make him bleed. Then, her private investigator called with a medical report that pushed her revenge to the edge.
"Mrs. Jones, Darlene Sutton is six weeks pregnant." Pampered By The Ruthless Tycoon Guardian
Julian Reid Kenzie, the former leader of the Aegis Alliance, opened her eyes to find herself reincarnated as a freezing, abandoned infant in a wet cardboard box.
She was rescued from the rain by Devin Ayers, a ruthless billionaire, and rushed to a private hospital, but a deadly threat was already waiting for her.
The ER doctor, Desiree Dillon, approached her with a syringe. Through a sudden burst of telepathy, Kenzie read the doctor's dark thoughts. Desiree wasn't trying to cure her fever. She deliberately ignored the safe dosage, drawing a lethal amount of Diazepam to permanently silence the crying baby and disguise it as sudden infant death.
"This will make it all go away," Desiree smiled gently, the needle glinting as it moved inches from Kenzie's arm.
Trapped in a weak, paralyzed three-month-old body, Kenzie couldn't run, fight, or even speak. She could only watch the poison inch closer.
How could she survive death only to be assassinated in a hospital bed by a corrupt doctor? She used to command armies. The sheer injustice and terror of dying completely helpless in this tiny body ignited a blinding rage inside her.
Refusing to be a victim again, Kenzie pushed her newborn brain to its absolute limit and unleashed a desperate telepathic scream directly into the billionaire's mind.
"Poison! She's trying to kill me!"
Devin, who had been looking away, suddenly froze, his icy gray eyes locking onto the doctor's wrist. You Can't Afford Your Genius Ex-Wife Now
Xin Miaomiao For two years, Kailey lived as the invisible wife of billionaire Jack Velasquez, treated like a ghost in a mansion that felt like a beautiful cage.
When Jack finally grew tired of her, he didn't even show up to say goodbye. He sent his cold-faced butler to hand her the divorce papers, kicking her out like trash.
The entire East Coast high society mocked her, laughing at the "gold digger" who got dumped. Jack expected her to cling to his wealth, assuming she would eagerly take the fifty million dollar alimony. But shortly after the divorce, Jack's precious ward was diagnosed with an inoperable brain tumor. Desperate, Jack ordered his men to turn over every rock in the world to find "The Surgeon"—a legendary, untraceable medical genius.
He had no idea that the mythical savior he was frantically searching for was the quiet, forgettable ex-wife he had just thrown away. When Jack finally stood before her in the hospital, he didn't apologize. Instead, he threatened to destroy her career if she failed the surgery, arrogantly calling her a greedy opportunist.
"I will take your license, your reputation, and your precious new center, and I will burn them to the ground."
Kailey didn't shed a single tear. She had already signed away his fifty million without taking a cent.
She simply picked up her old surgical tools, put on her pristine white coat, and forced the arrogant billionaire to fund a nine-figure neuroscience center just to get her to the operating table. Discarded By Him, Claimed By The Zillionaire
TESS WHITE I was Landon Mercer's secret girlfriend and loyal assistant for four years. I thought my absolute devotion would eventually win his heart.
But he casually announced his engagement to a wealthy heiress, reminding me I was just a convenient nobody from an orphanage.
When I got trapped in a horrific car crash and begged him to call an ambulance, he just hung up on me, annoyed that my bleeding was ruining his romantic getaway.
He even blackmailed me with my orphanage's land lease, forcing me to attend his engagement party as a prop.
At the party, his elite family and friends brutally humiliated me.
They deliberately crushed my broken arm, poured red wine over my head, and kicked me into a freezing pond.
When Landon finally pulled me out, he didn't care that I was suffocating and turning blue.
"Are you out of your mind? You come out here and cause a scene during my engagement party?"
He threw a stack of cash at my shivering body, furious that I had embarrassed him in front of his wealthy guests.
Looking at the hundred-dollar bills floating in the muddy water, my four years of foolish love completely died.
To him, I wasn't even human; I was just a cheap toy he could abuse and pass around.
I didn't cry, and I didn't beg.
I dragged my soaked, battered body into a car and headed straight to the penthouse of his biggest billionaire rival.
It was time to burn Landon Mercer's world to the ground. Shattered Vows: The Secret Heiress's Dazzling Return
Nap Regazzini For two years, Clementine played the perfectly obedient wife to billionaire Donovan Bray, wearing his heavy diamonds and enduring his cold indifference.
Until she accidentally saw his tablet and discovered she was just a "collateral asset"—a cheap lookalike prop hired to make his ex-girlfriend, Gisela, jealous.
When Gisela returned to New York, Donovan's mask completely slipped.
During a vicious argument where he mocked Clementine as a pathetic shadow, he grabbed her, causing her to fall down a flight of marble stairs.
Waking up in the hospital, Clementine learned she had miscarried a six-week-old baby she didn't even know she had.
But what truly shattered her was hearing Donovan's voice through the cracked hospital door.
"It changes nothing."
He coldly lied to his friend that the fall had caused permanent infertility.
"It was probably for the best."
He had killed her unborn child and casually dismissed her worth, truly believing she was a penniless nobody who would suffer his abuse in silence.
He thought he held all the power, leaving her broken and discarded for his true love.
What Donovan didn't know was that his fragile, dependent wife was secretly "C.", the billionaire genius behind Aurelian, the world's most exclusive luxury jewelry empire.
Lying in the sterile room, Clementine dried her tears, filed for a ruthless divorce, and permanently froze his supplementary black card.
It was time to show him who really held the strings. 
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