Jun Shangye
8 Published Stories
Jun Shangye's Books and Stories
Dying for His True Happiness
Xuanhuan In New York, everyone knew Grady Allen lived for me, Emely Harrison. He was my shadow, my protector, my world, and our future seemed inevitable.
But as I lay dying from ALS, I overheard him whisper, "Emely, my duty to you is done. If there is a next life, I pray I can be with Kandy." My world shattered. His lifelong devotion wasn't love, but guilt for Kandy Paul, a woman who had taken her own life after he' d left her.
Reborn, I found Grady with amnesia, deeply in love with Kandy. To give him the happiness he truly desired, I concealed my own early-onset ALS diagnosis and broke off our engagement, telling his parents, "I won't chain him to a dying woman out of a sense of duty he doesn't even remember."
Despite my efforts, Kandy' s insecurity led her to frame me, accusing me of throwing her engagement ring and setting fire to the mansion. Grady, believing her, threw me into a muddy pit and later choked me, snarling, "You're not even as good as a dog. At least a dog is loyal."
During a kidnapping, I saved Kandy, nearly dying myself, only to wake in a hospital to learn Grady had spared no expense for her, while I lay abandoned.
Why did he choose her, even when his body instinctively reached for me? Why did he believe her lies? I had given him everything, even my life, to set him free.
Now, I would truly be free. I married my brother, Jeremiah, who had always loved me, and left Grady behind, whispering, "Be happy, Grady. We're even now. I'll never see you again." The Husband She Never Knew
Romance For fifteen years, Ava Reed and Ethan Miller were Ghost and Shadow, an elite security duo woven from shared scars and unbreakable loyalty.
Their world shattered the moment Chloe Davis, a client they were hired to protect, walked into their lives, and Ethan' s professional focus vanished, replaced by open infatuation.
Ava watched, heartbroken, as Ethan ignored her tactical advice, prioritized Chloe' s every whim, and dismissed their shared history.
The final blow came in a hotel hallway, not in a hail of gunfire, but with Ethan' s cruel dismiss al of Ava as "intense" to Chloe, followed by his public, condescending declaration that she was "nothing" without him after years of her literally taking bullets for him.
Reeling, but refusing to be broken, Ava silently walked away from the wreckage of her past life, dialing a number she hadn't called in a decade to invoke an old family arrangement – a marriage to Liam Hayes, a recluse from a rival tech empire – a desperate, undeniable move to cleanse herself of Ethan' s betrayal.
Yet, her escape was far from clean. Chloe, savoring her triumph, tracked Ava down and flaunted the ultimate insult: the cheap silver locket Ava and Ethan had shared, now around Chloe' s neck, a symbol of Ethan' s ultimate betrayal, as he callously dismissed its meaning.
Just as Ava thought she had burned all bridges, Ethan reappeared at her wedding, a desperate, unhinged man, revealing a shocking truth about Liam.
Now, Ava must unravel the true intentions of her new husband while grappling with the explosive fallout of her past. Love, Lies, and Stolen Dreams
Romance Chloe Davis and I built a life together, starting from broke college kids to a married couple with a future, celebrating our tenth anniversary.
But that morning, a chilling phone call shattered everything: Chloe, distracted and distant, hung up on me before I could utter another word, leaving me with a familiar cold dread.
Later, a colleague' s photo brought the crushing truth: Chloe, hand resting comfortably on the arm of Liam Hayes, the ruthless CEO of OmniCorp, a velvet box and expensive cufflinks on the table-gifts I could never afford.
The silent, wrapped gift on her nightstand - a first-edition book carelessly torn, unopened - confirmed her indifference, leaving me with a gut-wrenching question: how could the woman I loved betray me to this extent?
The next morning, the betrayal escalated as my lead designer revealed OmniCorp had stolen our flagship game, 'Aetheria,' confirming a horrifying, undeniable picture: the person sleeping next to me every night was holding the knife, and I knew how to fight back. Revenge Served Cold, Sweet
Romance My husband, Mark, walked in with her draped on his arm, a wide-eyed girl clutching a teddy bear, and casually announced she' d be staying with us.
I watched, numb, as she ate chicken from his fork, her lips brushing the metal, her eyes locked on his-a brazen declaration made right at my dining table.
The silence that followed, thick and heavy, was broken only by the wet thud of the entire roasted chicken I scraped into the garbage, his furious outburst echoing in the sudden chill of the room.
He stood before me, defending her, blaming me, his eyes filled with a disappointment that screamed I was the problem, leaving me bewildered and furious at his immediate, instinctual betrayal.
When I stormed out, leaving him alone with her, I thought I was simply escaping, but now I know that was the moment I stopped being his wife and started planning his downfall. Where Love Died
Billionaires My life was perfect, or so I thought.
Married for five blissful years to Ethan, the powerful CEO who publicly adored me, making me feel like his most cherished person, his greatest weakness.
I believed him; I loved him with a fierce passion, a love I sincerely thought he returned.
Then, one evening, I overheard his voice-low, serious-uttering words that shattered my entire world: "If I don't make Sarah the obvious target, how can Olivia continue her work in those conflict zones without becoming a pawn?"
Olivia. His childhood sweetheart.
Suddenly, all the "accidents"-the car bombings, the kidnappings, the trauma-fell into place; I was merely a decoy, a pawn in his twisted game to shield her.
But the true horror unfurled when I painstakingly bypassed his "impenetrable" security and hacked into his private digital journal.
Page after page, it boasted of his profound, yearning love for Olivia, followed by chilling entries about me: "Found the perfect candidate today. Sarah Jenkins. Intelligent, beautiful, but with a vulnerability I can exploit. She'll be a convincing decoy."
He' d orchestrated my terror; he' d cultivated my dependence.
The ultimate betrayal?
"Sarah miscarried," he wrote. "A pity, in a way. But perhaps for the best. A child would complicate things with Olivia."
His chilling indifference to our lost child, to my deepest grief, tore me apart.
My love for him curdled into a cold, hard resolve, realizing I wasn't just a pawn, but a recipient of painful hand-me-downs, my deepest sufferings cruelly manipulated for his cruel agenda.
How could the man I loved be such a monster?
Yet, the shock quickly gave way to a steely determination.
Ethan thought I was his unsuspecting wife, his perfect decoy.
He didn't know the cybersecurity analyst I' d been, the skills I still possessed.
I would play the loving wife, enduring his touch, while meticulously plotting my escape and, ultimately, his downfall. The Bet That Broke The Hayes
Billionaires My step-sister Brittany’s graduation party quickly devolved into a public mockery of me.
My step-family and ex-boyfriend Jason relentlessly called me “slow” and “worthless.”
The scar on my cheek, a constant reminder of Jason’s past negligence, tightened with each cruel word.
My stepfather, Richard, then initiated a colossal public bet, wagering $100,000 I wouldn’t get into *any* state college.
My stepbrother Kyle bet his Mustang GT on my SAT score being below a thousand, and Jason openly wagered valuable retail spots for Brittany’s assured triumph.
They eagerly anticipated my utter public embarrassment over college acceptances and test scores.
When I calmly wrote “0” on my estimated SAT sheet, the garden erupted in a deafening, cruel laughter.
Jason, feigning disgust, publicly dumped me and added a family heirloom to the mounting betting pile.
My step-family gleefully contributed their vacation condo and company shares, convinced of my impending ruin.
Then, the official College Board site displayed "SAT Score: 0," unleashing a final, vicious torrent of triumph and online ridicule.
My heart felt like cold stone, yet my face remained impassive as I watched their unveiled greed and contempt.
They believed my humiliation was complete, oblivious to the technicality behind that "zero" score and the true story of my scar.
This public spectacle, designed to destroy me, only hardened my resolve.
However, just as my stepfather’s rage peaked, three black sedans arrived, and my formidable grandmother, Eleanor Miller, stepped out.
Flanked by admissions deans from Harvard, Stanford, and MIT, she calmly announced my actual, flawless SAT score: a perfect 2400.
They further revealed me as a National Merit Scholar and the sole heir to the multi-billion dollar Miller Industries.
With their signed betting agreement, the Hayes family’s world was about to spectacularly unravel. The Auctioned Wife's Escape
Romance For ten agonizing years, the brand on my hip was a constant, burning reminder of my forced marriage to Ethan Harrison, a symbol of the shame he inflicted on me, the "charity case" his powerful family took in. But the dreaded decade was almost over. Freedom, a word I barely dared whisper, was finally within reach.
Until tonight. At his family’s annual charity gala, surrounded by the city's elite, Ethan dragged me onto the stage, a predatory smile on his face. “We auction a unique experience,” he announced, tightening his grip on my arm. “An experience with my… wife, Sarah.”
My private photos flashed across the giant screen, then a chilling close-up of the ugly mark on my hip, exposed for all to see. The crowd gasped as the bidding began. “The highest bidder will get… quality time with Sarah. Live-streamed, of course.” This wasn't just humiliation; it was a public sale, a human auction. His conniving "true love" smirked, as Ethan whispered chilling threats about my innocent brother.
He owned me, he truly believed it. I stood there, an animal on display, utterly broken, the velvet ropes he bound me with biting into my skin. How could a man repay a life debt from my war hero grandfather by selling his wife? My family sacrificed everything, and this was my twisted reward?
But just as despair threatened to consume me, a formidable figure emerged from the stunned crowd: Marcus Thorne, Harrison’s ruthless business rival. He brought with him an unexpected ally, and as Ethan raged, a shocking truth was finally revealed: my ten-year contract was up, my marriage over. My freedom, fiercely fought for in silence, was about to begin – and Ethan Harrison was about to learn that some debts are paid with more than just money. You might like
Shattered Light: A Queen's Vengeance
AtengKadiwa I woke up back in my old novitiate room.
The sunlight was weak, my head ached, but it wasn't physical pain. It was the crushing weight of a whole life, stolen, crashing back into me.
Years of sacrifice, of pouring my heart into others-Ethan, Maya, Mr. Henderson-all ripped away.
My deepest devotions, twisted by a dark ritual, a "Charm of Transference," meant to siphon my spiritual credit to my sister, Seraphina.
She was lauded for my true work, celebrated for my love, while I was publicly shamed, exiled, and left to die, broken and alone.
Now, I' m back, and the game is already in motion. Alistair is setting the stage for Seraphina's rise, forcing me down familiar paths of betrayal.
I tried to change things, to build something real with Kai, to honor Mr. Henderson. But again, Seraphina claimed every ounce of my effort, my love, my sacrifice as her own, leaving me stripped bare, exiled, deemed "unworthy."
Each repeated betrayal, a fresh cut, compounded the rage that had settled deep within me.
How could they keep stealing my life, my essence, transforming my pure intentions into their glittering lies?
The injustice was a living thing, purer and more potent than any "Grace" they pretended to embody. It burned away the last vestiges of the hopeful girl I once was.
No more. I died once, broken and alone, with anger as my only companion.
This time, my pain is my power, my rage a crucible. On the eve of Seraphina' s coronation, I won' t just endure.
I will shatter their illusion, severing the very source of their stolen power, even if it means destroying myself in the process.
The game has changed. I am back, and this time, I play to win. Reborn: A Wife's Vengeful Return
Haley The antiseptic smell of the hospital and the relentless rain were the last things I remembered from my past life. That' s where it ended-my body hollowed by grief, my spirit eroded by depression after losing my baby in a hurricane.
But on my deathbed, a final, cruel truth echoed from outside my room: my husband, Mark, and his childhood sweetheart, Lisa, conspired to destroy me. They admitted using their own daughter, Chloe, as bait in the storm, knowing my "bleeding heart" would save her, ensuring I' d miscarry and become a "barren mule."
They rejoiced in how I' d raised Chloe, their daughter, completely oblivious to their monstrous scheme. I died with their laughter ringing in my ears, my last breath a ragged gasp of pure, undiluted hatred.
Then, I gasped again, a deep, full breath. My eyes snapped open. I wasn' t dying. I was in my living room, the wind howling, a news anchor warning of a Category 8 hurricane.
My hand flew to my stomach-a faint, familiar warmth. My baby was still there. I was still pregnant. I was alive, reborn to the day it all began.
The trap was being set again. I knew who was out there, waiting to be "saved." My nine-year-old son, Ethan, tugged my sleeve, pointing with manufactured fear.
"Mom, look! There's a little girl out there! In the water! She's going to drown!" His Second Life Begins
Mattie Valelly My soul floated above the cold asphalt, watching my own naked body lying lifelessly on the street. I was 30, a successful architect, but all I heard were whispers of judgment-that I' d thrown my life away for Olivia. Everyone knew she never loved me, that she was always with Daniel. To die like this, discarded and forgotten, was nothing short of a pathetic waste.
Then, a strange, swirling pain, and I woke up not dead, but screaming, my left hand wrapped in a bloody rag. A finger was freshly severed. Before me, tied to a chair, was Daniel. And holding a bloody knife, cold and impatient, stood Olivia. My mind reeled: this was ten years ago, the very day my life began its downward spiral. The kidnapping, the torture, the moment Olivia chose Daniel over me, leaving me for dead.
The memory of my actual death, the whispers of strangers judging my wasted life, burned clearer than any past pain. I watched her look at Daniel, her choice already made in her eyes, just like before. I was nothing to her. I had always been nothing. The desperate love, the years of pining-it all turned to ashes.
Why was I back? Why was I forced to relive this cruel charade, knowing the tragic end it led to? The injustice, the utter pointlessness of my devotion, fueled a cold, hard fury I' d never known. This time, something inside me snapped.
This time, I wouldn' t beg. This time, I' d escape. I' d use every shred of memory I had from the future I' d just left, every bitter lesson learned, to break free and forge a life entirely my own, a life where Olivia had no place. Reborn, Redeemed, Relentless Revenge
Lorraine The scent of gasoline and burning metal, the agonizing twisting of the car around me-that was my last memory. My sister Bella' s triumphant smile, seared into my mind as flames consumed me.
Then, a blinding flash, and I was back. Not in a hospital, but in my old bedroom, years younger, my hands smooth and unscarred. The shock of rebirth warred with a fierce, tiny spark of hope. A second chance. A chance to do it right.
But the past wasn't content to stay buried. The memories flooded back: my father, framed and driven to suicide; his legacy left in ruins; my life single-mindedly devoted to clearing his name. And Bella, my own sister, orchestrating my downfall, poisoning my family and reputation for her frivolous desires, egged on by her manipulative lover, Leo.
The car accident wasn' t an accident. It was a calculated murder, a final betrayal. They left me for dead, my life' s work shattered, my body broken.
The raw pain of that memory still gnawed at me, the bitter taste of betrayal fresh on my tongue. Why had they done this? How could a sister be so cruel?
Then, the creak of a door. Bella walked in, dressed in a brand new designer dress, her face a mask of practiced sweetness. "Chloe," she cooed, "I need to talk to you about something." It was the exact same scene. The same beginning. But this time, she wouldn' t find a victim. This time, I knew the game, and I was ready to play. The Twin's Fatal Deception: A Reborn Wife's Justice
Valeria A grim news report flashed on screen: "Catastrophic lab explosion at Innovatech Robotics."
Then came the update that made my blood run cold: "CEO Mark Reinhart critically injured but alive.
His twin brother, David Reinhart, tragically declared dead." My husband.
Alive. But a chilling memory slammed into me.
Because this wasn't the first time this tragedy played out, just with the names reversed.
In my first life, Mark died, and David appeared, claiming amnesia.
But I knew it was Mark, changed and cruel.
He, along with his venomous mother and David's manipulative wife, gaslighted me, painting me as delusional.
They neglected my sweet Emily.
They smeared my name, turning the community against me.
It ended in fire and screams.
Emily and I didn't escape that guest house.
That nightmare of betrayal and agony was my first life.
Now, the roles were switched, but the lie was the same.
A cold wave of recognition, brutal and sharp, washed over me.
How could this be happening again?
No. This time, Emily needed me.
I wouldn't be the victim.
I would write a new ending.
Let Mark have his stolen life with Jessica; he would lose absolutely everything else.
My resolve hardened, sharp as steel. Called by the Token: Her True Mate
Noah Reed The fluorescent hum of the county clerk's office was the soundtrack to my defiance.
I clutched the pen, ready to marry Liam Thorne, a man I' d run seven days and suppressed a blood-bound token for, all to rewrite a past that still haunted my reborn soul.
Before the ink could touch the paper, Liam snatched the license.
Rip.
My heart stopped.
"I have to marry Chloe first," he said, his words echoing the betrayal I remembered from a lifetime ago.
He spoke of a week, of saving Chloe' s reputation, but I remembered years in a damp root cellar, the loss of our children.
My blood-bound token throbbed as his guards abducted me, dragging me to his coastal estate.
There, Chloe, the cousin whose manipulations haunted my first life, paraded in my wedding gown, her triumph chilling.
With a staged cry and a splash of fake blood, she framed me.
Liam, blinded by her fake tears, roared, "Take her to the old root cellar!"
My nightmare was real again.
The sting of his slap echoed the cruelty of a past he seemed to have forgotten, but I hadn't.
Had he learned nothing?
Did he truly believe a week could erase my agony, our lost children, the years in that dark cellar?
The blood-bound token, suppressed for so long, now pulsed with a furious, undeniable call.
As the heavy door of that dreaded root cellar slammed shut, I finally let go.
No more running.
No more pretending.
My forced apology was a lie, a means to an end.
It was time for my people to find me.
It was time to go home.
And this time, I wouldn't be marrying him.
I was going home to Elijah. The Unbreakable Widow
Mo Yufei The last thing I remember is the cold, seeping into my bones as I froze to death in an abandoned barn.
But then, I heard weeping, and snapped my eyes open to find myself sitting on a hard wooden pew, at Andrew' s funeral.
My mother-in-law, Debra Chadwick, was there, sobbing about how they' d take care of me and Molly, just as she did twenty years ago.
The exact same false promise that had shackled me for two decades, turning me into their live-in nurse and servant until they threw me out to die.
The sheer audacity of it, of being brought back only to face the same manipulative lies, surged through me with a hot, sharp rage.
Not grief, not confusion, but pure, unadulterated fury.
This time, I wouldn't take her sedatives.
This time, I shoved her arm off me. This time, everything would be different. 
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