Li Zi Hai Shi Xing
11 Published Stories
Li Zi Hai Shi Xing's Books and Stories
Too Late Mr. Noble: You Can't Afford Me
Romance I had played the role of Hunt Noble’s perfect partner for three years, a polished asset to his multi-billion dollar empire. But the mask slipped when I saw a photo of him smiling at another woman with an intimacy he hadn’t shown me in months.
When I tried to walk away, Hunt didn't beg for forgiveness. He pinned me against a cold marble counter and reminded me that I was his property.
"I provide for you. I don't answer to you."
At the city's most prestigious gala, I made one final, desperate plea for a real commitment. He laughed, calling our relationship a "merger of assets" and labeling me a "bad investment" with a failed career. He had his lawyers draft a thirty-million-dollar NDA to buy my silence, treating our three years together like a business transaction to be settled and filed away.
I signed the papers and threw the keys to his penthouse in his face, desperate to reclaim my soul. But that same night, I was drugged at a high-end club by a predator who thought I was unprotected. Before the darkness swallowed me, Hunt reappeared, a violent shadow who beat my attacker until the floor was slick with blood.
I woke up back in the one place I swore I’d never return to: his master bedroom. As Hunt washed the filth of the night off me, his eyes burned with a terrifying, renewed possessiveness that the $30 million check couldn't hide.
"You don't go anywhere without my permission."
I realized then that the money wasn't my exit fee—it was the down payment on a permanent cage. If I ever wanted to be free, I couldn't just walk out. I had to burn his entire empire to the ground. My Wife, Her Son, His Lie
Modern The silence in our living room was heavy, broken only by my ragged breathing.
On the coffee table, a single photograph lay between us: my wife, Chloe Davis, holding a child, a man I' d never seen before, Alex Reed, his arm possessively around them.
The anonymous email was simple: "Everything you believe is a lie."
I stared at Chloe, my wife of five years, the celebrity I had helped build, the woman I loved with every fiber of my being, as she calmly confessed.
"His name is Alex Reed. And that' s our son, Noah."
Their son. The son I was told I could never have. The pain I had carried for us, the infertility I had accepted as my truth, was nothing but a calculated cover story.
Her mother, Eleanor, rushed to my side, not to comfort me, but to smooth things over, to sell me on a lifetime of complicity.
"Ethan, you know you can' t have children. This has happened. What' s the point of making a scene? Be a father to the boy. It' s a blessing in disguise, really."
The sheer audacity, the cold dismissal of my pain and betrayal, left me speechless.
Chloe, the woman I thought I knew, looked at me with chilling pragmatism.
"It' s the most practical solution, Ethan. We can keep Alex and Noah hidden. This can just be our secret."
My entire marriage, a lie. My love, a tool. My supposed brokenness, a convenient cover for her betrayal. The devastation burned away all confusion, leaving behind a stark clarity.
"No," I said, quiet but final.
Chloe blinked, as if the concept was foreign.
"I want a divorce."
Then came the storm. Not from Chloe, but from a social media post crafted by Eleanor, turning me into the villain.
"Some people can't handle a strong woman. Chloe deserves a man who can give her a real family."
My fabricated infertility, their weapon. The woman I sacrificed everything for had joined her mother and her secret family to paint me as the inadequate, abusive monster.
They thought I was weak. They were wrong.
My fingers, no longer trembling, found my phone.
"I need to file for divorce. And I want to be prepared for a fight." Ava's Echo: A Betrayed Heart Returns
Fantasy The first thing I felt when I opened my eyes wasn' t relief, but a dull ache in my chest.
This wasn't my body, but Ava's.
And with it came the ghost of her memory-a life of betrayal, humiliation, and a desperate wish for justice.
Just hours ago, she was destroyed in the very home I now found myself in.
Downstairs, the low murmur of voices belonged to the perfect, grieving family: Chloe, Ava' s supposed sister, clinging to Mark, Ava' s fiancé, both displaying a tenderness Mark hadn't shown Ava in years.
Beside them stood my father, a man of iron will, his hand on Chloe's shoulder, looking at her with a pained affection he never once bestowed upon his own biological daughter.
The scene turned sickening when Mark declared his love for Chloe, emphasizing her "softness" that Ava, with her ambition, supposedly lacked.
Then came my father' s final hammer blow: "This girl, Chloe, has more grace and kindness in her little finger than you have in your entire body. She is the daughter I always wished I had."
Every word was aimed at Ava, shattering her spirit.
This was the core of her pain, the reason she gave up.
But for me, it was the spark.
I smiled, a cold, unwavering smile.
"Good," I said, my voice clear and steady. "Then you won\'t mind when I take back everything that is rightfully mine. Every last thing." Two Days to Escape
Romance The glowing line of code on Sarah' s monitor signaled another crisis averted, a familiar satisfaction that quickly vanished, replaced by the dull ache of a life suffocating under the weight of her possessive fiancé, Mark, and his manipulative sister, Emily.
"Just three more days," she whispered to the empty office-a countdown to her escape and a new life where she would finally be valued.
But her carefully constructed countdown shattered the moment Emily, supposedly pregnant and fragile, staged a dramatic public collapse in Sarah' s office, openly accusing her.
Mark, the supposed love of her life, didn' t hesitate; his immediate, furious accusation- "What did you do?" -echoed through the silent office, his eyes burning with pure hatred.
The betrayal was swift and absolute. He accused her of attempting to kill Emily and, later, their unborn child (Emily's baby, not theirs). Her reputation, her career, and her very freedom evaporated under a deluge of his self-righteous rage and Emily' s calculated lies.
The accusations hung heavy in the sterile hospital air, turning her into a monster in front of her colleagues and the police.
How could the man who once adored her believe such monstrous lies without question? How could a bond forged in love warp into this toxic web of manipulation and deceit? The injustice was a cold, sharp blade, cutting deep into her soul. She was trapped, branded a villain, with no one but herself to fight the tide of his blind fury.
Yet, a seed of hope remained. Just two more days, she reminded herself. Two more days until a clandestine agency pulled her from this nightmare, erasing her old life and giving her a chance to reclaim herself. It was a risk, a leap into the unknown, but it was her only way out. The Villainess Who Baked Her Way To Love
Romance A blinding headache kicks off the wildest day of my life. I' m Savannah Vance, a pastry chef, but suddenly I' m a villainess in some cheesy romance novel, hated by everyone, including Dr. Kael Blackwood, the handsome, cold hero.
My new 'family,' who apparently swapped me at birth from a wealthy tech mogul father, instantly disowns me. Accusations fly-they parade my presumed low-class origins, and my adoptive mother' s misguided "love potion" gift to "secure a man's interest" only solidifies their disgust.
No matter what I do, they just see the conniving gold-digger from the book. My supposed sister, Blair, frames me again and again, turning every family member against me, while Kael watches with chilling disdain. His own family, especially his mom, seems to be the only ones who see my truth.
How am I supposed to survive in a world where everyone believes I'm the villain, especially when the hero despises me and my own family actively tries to sabotage me? This isn' t my story, but I' m living it.
I will not be this villainess. I' ll use my real skills, my baking talent, and my anonymous blog, "Sugar & Spice," to carve out my own destiny, even if it means fighting alone against a pre-written ending. Too Late For Her Regret
Romance For 15 years, Lena and I were Apex and Viper, Sentinel Group's best.
We moved like ghosts, always got the job done.
I thought our bond was iron, that nothing could break what we had.
A lifetime together, quiet, away from it all – that was the future I saw.
Then Julian Thorne, a tech billionaire's son, walked into our lives.
I saw the shift in Lena's eyes, a flicker I hadn't wanted to acknowledge.
Her laughter grew too loud, too often with him, and her subtle jabs at me turned sharper, more dismissive.
She started calling him Julian, shared operational details she shouldn't have, and openly mocked my ruggedness, insisting Julian preferred 'polish.'
My gut twisted when he tossed our custom-made challenge coin in the air – the symbol of our unbroken partnership, given to him like trash.
But nothing hit harder than her cold laugh, "A future? With you? Don't be ridiculous, Alex. You think I' d ever be with someone like you?"
Twenty years of belief, shattered in an instant.
The woman I loved, my partner for fifteen years, saw me as nothing but a grunt, a relic, beneath her ambition.
The pain was a physical blow, a cold, hard truth: this wasn't a partnership.
To her, it was just a job, and Julian Thorne, a shiny, disposable perk.
Watching her laugh with him, the knot in my gut tightened, then snapped.
I pulled out my burner phone, the one I hadn't touched in years.
"Grandfather," I said, my voice rough, "It's Alex. About that arrangement… is it still on the table?"
It was time to leave everything behind, to find a peace she could never offer. The Unforgiving Snow
Horror The scream died in my throat, a ghost of a sound from a life already lost. My eyes snapped open to weak autumn sunlight filtering through bedroom curtains.
Michael, my husband, slept beside me, his breathing even. Down the hall, Lily, my five-year-old, would soon be stirring, ready for cartoons and pancakes. It was a normal morning, but the memories, the ice-cold dread, they weren't a dream.
It was a terrifying premonition: a monstrous blizzard, Lily's small, still face, Michael's broken body in the snow. I saw the snarling faces of Frank, Brenda, Billy, and Jimmy, their greedy eyes scanning our home.
And then, the ultimate betrayal: Jessie. My adopted daughter, Jessie, siding with them, facilitating their violence, celebrating their victory over our family.
They had ransacked our home, murdered my husband and daughter, and left me to die in the freezing snow. My heart hammered with the visceral horror of that nightmare, the profound betrayal burning deeper than any wound.
How could the daughter I loved, the one I raised, turn into such a monster and actively choose our destruction? This wasn't just a nightmare; it felt terrifyingly real, a chilling glimpse into an impending doom.
"It had all happened. It was all going to happen. Today."
A tremor went through me. Today was the day the blizzard warnings began, the day Jessie first whined about wanting to see her "real" family.
I was back. Armed with the brutal wisdom of a life I'd already lost, I would rewrite every brutal chapter, protect my family, and ensure those who sought to harm us faced a fate far worse. The Ghost He Couldn't See
Romance Ethan and I were a medical power couple, brilliant doctors at Mount Sinai West, building a life, a future.
My world, however, shattered in a horrific car crash.
My head throbbed, my vision blurred, and though my words were clear enough to convey a severe neurological emergency, the man I loved, Dr. Ethan Hayes, rushed past my trauma bay.
He called me "dramatic," dismissing my critical state to focus on his stepsister, Brooke, who he believed had a 'shattered leg.'
I watched, a helpless ghost, as my body flatlined, the monitor's unbroken tone signaling my death.
He still didn't know, too preoccupied with fixing Brooke's "injuries," too blind to her manipulative tears and lies about the accident.
The betrayal was colder than death itself.
Five years, a future planned, all discarded for a carefully crafted pretense.
My heart, or what was left of it, ached with an unbearable truth.
The true horror, the one that would forever define his torment, was a secret I carried even into the afterlife: I was pregnant.
With our child.
The baby he unknowingly condemned with his catastrophic medical negligence.
His world was about to unravel – spectacularly, brutally.
And I, his silent, invisible companion, would be tethered to him, watching every agonizing moment as his brilliant career, his sanity, and his very soul disintegrated. Her Unyielding Return
Romance My name is Sarah Miller, and I gave up everything for the man I loved.
When a scandal threatened my fiancé Ethan Vance's political ambitions, I sacrificed my family's ancestral land and treasured heirloom locket to the ruthless Arthur Sterling, clearing Ethan's massive debt.
I then endured brutal months in Sterling's notorious sweatshop, working until my body broke, leaving me with a permanent limp and a jagged scar.
But the day Ethan won his election, the news crushed me: he was engaged to Tori Sterling, Arthur Sterling's cruel daughter.
I limped to his victory celebration, desperate for his promised future, only for him to look me dead in the eyes and publicly declare, "I don't know you."
Tori sneered, branding me a "delusional ex," and amid their mocking laughter, Ethan had Sterling's enforcers banish me from town.
How could the man I crippled myself for betray me so utterly, abandoning me for the very family who orchestrated my ruin?
Cast out, every sacrifice seemingly for nothing, a searing injustice ignited a desperate fire within me.
Limping away from everything I knew, I set my sights on whispered legends of a hidden community, The Hollow.
I would seek refuge there, not to hide, but to forge a new destiny and, one day, demand the fierce justice I deserved. Reborn to Ruin Them All
Billionaires The scream tore from my throat, but no sound came out. I was back. My hand flew to my belly—round, firm, eight months pregnant. Sunlight poured into my apartment. I was alive.
But the memory was searing: that sterile hospital room, the monstrous pain of losing her, my baby girl ripped away. Mark’s family, their greedy faces, haunted my vision. They wanted my company, my money. They watched as my child and I died.
Just three days. That's all I had before the loan sharks would come, the harbinger of my past life's ruin. They called my unborn daughter 'worthless' plotting my divorce and even grooming Mark's mistress to bear their 'heir.' They’d publicly shame me, all while seizing my assets.
The burning injustice was a raw wound. To protect their name and inheritance, they’d sacrifice an innocent life. How could family be so cold, so utterly devoid of humanity, willing to let me and my child perish for their selfish desires?
But not this time. Now, I knew their every cruel scheme. My shattered past had armed me with foresight. This time, my baby girl would live. This time, I was ready. And they would pay. They would pay for every tear, every life they tried to extinguish. Their downfall begins now. You might like
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. After Divorce: My Arrogant Ex Regrets Calling Me Trash
Sea Jet Aurora woke up to the sterile chill of her king-sized bed in Sterling Thorne's penthouse. Today was the day her husband would finally throw her out like garbage. Sterling walked in, tossed divorce papers at her, and demanded her signature, eager to announce his "eligible bachelor" status to the world.
In her past life, the sight of those papers had broken her, leaving her begging for a second chance. Sterling's sneering voice, calling her a "trailer park girl" undeserving of his name, had once cut deeper than any blade. He had always used her humble beginnings to keep her small, to make her grateful for the crumbs of his attention. She had lived a gilded cage, believing she was nothing without him, until her life flatlined in a hospital bed, watching him give a press conference about his "grief."
But this time, she felt no sting, no tears. Only a cold, clear understanding of the mediocre man who stood on a pedestal she had painstakingly built with her own genius.
Aurora signed the papers, her name a declaration of independence. She grabbed her old, phoenix-stickered laptop, ready to walk out. Sterling Thorne was about to find out exactly how expensive "free" could be. His Twisted Game, My Dangerous Love
Elroy Notman Vesper's marriage to Julian Sterling was a gilded cage. One morning, she woke naked beside Damon Sterling, Julian's terrifying brother, then found a text: Julian's mistress was pregnant. Her world shattered, but the real nightmare had just begun.
Julian's abuse escalated, gaslighting Vesper, funding his secret life. Damon, a germaphobic billionaire, became her unsettling anchor amidst his chaos.
As "Iris," Vesper exposed Julian's mistress, Serena Sharp, sparking brutal war: poisoned drinks, a broken leg, and the horrifying truth-Julian murdered her parents, trapping Vesper in marriage.
The man she married was a killer. Broken and betrayed, Vesper was caught between monstrous brothers, burning with injustice.
Refusing victimhood, Vesper reclaimed her identity. Fueled by vengeance, she allied with Damon, who vowed to burn his empire for her. Julian faced justice, but matriarch Eleanor's counterattack forced Vesper's choice as a hitman aimed for her. Reborn Rich, My Vengeance Rises
Rabbit My husband, Ethan Vance, made me his trophy wife. My best friend, Susanna Thorne, helped me pick out my wedding dress. Together, they made me a fool.
For three years, I was Mrs. Ethan Vance, a decorative silence in his billion-dollar world, living a quiet routine until a forgotten phone charger led me to his office.
The low, feminine laugh from behind his door was a gut-punch; inside, I found Ethan and Susanna, my "best friend" and his CMO, tangled on his sofa, his only reaction irritation.
My divorce declaration brought immediate scorn and threats. I was fired, my accounts frozen, and publicly smeared as an unstable gold-digger. Even my own family disowned me for my last cent, only for me to be framed for assault and served a restraining order.
Broke, injured, and utterly demonized, they believed I was broken, too ashamed to fight. But their audacious betrayal and relentless cruelty only forged a cold, unyielding resolve.
Slumped alone, a restraining order in hand, I remembered my hidden journal: a log of Ethan's insider trading secrets. They wanted a monster? I would show them one. HIS DOE, HIS DAMNATION(An Erotic Billionaire Romance)
Viviene Trigger/Content Warning:
This story contains mature themes and explicit content intended for adult audiences(18+). Reader discretion is advised.
It includes elements such as BDSM dynamics, explicit sexual content, toxic family relationships, occasional violence and strong language.
This is not a fluffy romance. It is intense, raw and messy, and explores the darker side of desire.
*****
"Take off your dress, Meadow."
"Why?"
"Because your ex is watching," he said, leaning back into his seat. "And I want him to see what he lost."
••••*••••*••••*
Meadow Russell was supposed to get married to the love of her life in Vegas. Instead, she walked in on her twin sister riding her fiance.
One drink at the bar turned to ten. One drunken mistake turned into reality. And one stranger's offer turned into a contract that she signed with shaking hands and a diamond ring.
Alaric Ashford is the devil in a tailored Tom Ford suit. Billionaire CEO, brutal, possessive. A man born into an empire of blood and steel.
He also suffers from a neurological condition-he can't feel. Not objects, not pain, not even human touch.
Until Meadow touches him, and he feels everything. And now he owns her. On paper and in his bed.
She wants him to ruin her. Take what no one else could have. He wants control, obedience... revenge.
But what starts as a transaction slowly turns into something Meadow never saw coming.
Obsession, secrets that were never meant to surface, and a pain from the past that threatens to break everything.
Alaric doesn't share what's his.
Not his company.
Not his wife.
And definitely not his vengeance.
Burned By Him, Reborn A Star
Rabbit The acrid smell of smoke still clung to Evelyn in the ambulance, her lungs raw from the penthouse fire. She was alive, but the world around her felt utterly destroyed, a feeling deepened by the small TV flickering to life. On it, her husband, Julian Vance, thousands of miles away, publicly comforted his mistress, Serena Holloway, shielding her from paparazzi after *her* "panic attack."
Julian's phone went straight to voicemail. Alone in the hospital with second-degree burns, Evelyn watched news replays, her heart rate spiking. He protected Serena from camera flashes while Evelyn burned. When he finally called, he demanded she handle insurance, dismissing the fire; Serena's voice faintly heard.
The shallow family ties and pretense of marriage evaporated. A searing injustice and cold anger replaced pain; Evelyn knew Julian had chosen to let her burn.
"Evelyn Vance died in that fire," she declared, ripping out her IV. Armed with a secret fortune as "The Architect," Hollywood's top ghostwriter, she walked out. She would divorce Julian, reclaim her name, and finally step into the spotlight as an actress. My Husband's Blindness, My Sweet Revenge
Winnie Suchoff The roasted lamb was cold, a reflection of her marriage. On their third anniversary, Evelyn Vance waited alone in her Manhattan penthouse. Then her phone buzzed: Alexander, her husband, had been spotted leaving the hospital, holding his childhood sweetheart Scarlett Sharp's hand.
Alexander arrived hours later, dismissing Evelyn's quiet complaint with a cold reminder: she was Mrs. Vance, not a victim. Her mother's demands reinforced this role, making Evelyn, a brilliant mind, feel like a ghost. A dangerous indifference replaced betrayal. The debt was paid; now, it was her turn.
She drafted a divorce settlement, waiving everything. As Alexander's tender voice drifted from his study, speaking to Scarlett, Evelyn placed her wedding ring on his pillow, moved to the guest suite, and locked the door. The dull wife was gone; the Oracle was back. Pregnant and Divorced: I Hid His Heir
Shirlee Melnick Vivian clutched her Hermès bag, her doctor's words echoing: "Extremely high-risk pregnancy." She hoped the baby would save her cold marriage, but Julian wasn't in London as his schedule claimed. Instead, a paparazzi photo revealed his early return-with a blonde woman, not his wife, at the private airport exit.
The next morning, Julian served divorce papers, callously ending their "duty" marriage for his ex, Serena. A horrifying contract clause gave him the right to terminate her pregnancy or seize their child. Humiliated, demoted, and forced to fake an ulcer, Vivian watched him parade his affair, openly discarding her while celebrating Serena.
This was a calculated erasure, not heartbreak. He cared only for his image, confirming he would "handle" the baby himself. A primal rage ignited her. "Just us," she whispered to her stomach, vowing to sign the divorce on her terms, keep her secret safe, and walk away from Sterling Corp for good, ready to protect her child alone. After My Husband Cheated, I Married His Greatest Rival
Rabbit The rain assaulted the glass, mirroring the storm inside me. For three years, I, Vivian Sterling, played the perfect wife to Julian Kensington, draining my life. The antique clock ticked, a reminder of time lost.
Then, I found it: a blonde hair on Julian's suit, reeking of Midnight Rose, and a text, ""Candy: You left your cufflinks on my nightstand. I'm already missing you."" My world shattered, revealing his betrayal.
This was just the beginning. I exposed Julian's fraud and his family's violent plots, surviving assassination. But their malice stole my past. Then Alexander Vance, my protector, uncovered a terrifying truth: my birth mother was alive, held captive by a shadowy order. My life was a lie, built to shield me from my dangerous bloodline.
I found strength and love with Alexander, the man who walked into fire for me. Yet, as I prepared to rescue my mother, a new life stirred within me, a secret threatening to complicate the impending war. 
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