Qiang Weiwei
9 Published Stories
Qiang Weiwei's Books and Stories
When Pity Dies: Her Sweet Revenge
Young Adult The harsh clang of the school bell ripped me from a nightmare.
One moment, I was bleeding out on the cold community center floor, choked by smoke and gasoline, watching the Outlaws murder my family.
The next, I was back in my high school classroom, the familiar scent of chalk and disinfectant filling the air, alive and untouched.
My heart hammered-not with teenaged excitement, but with the primal terror of a ghost, knowing this was it: the day it all began.
Brittany Hayes, perfect blonde hair and a weaponized smile, stood at the front, pushing her dad' s "Life Path AI" onto our entire class for free.
Liam Carter, the class golden boy, nodded eagerly beside her, his handsome face alight with ambition, calling it "foolproof."
A wave of excited chatter filled the room: the exact siren song that had led to ruin in my last life.
I remembered standing up then, my voice trembling but determined, warning them about the AI' s flaws, its bias towards corporate partners.
They' d laughed, calling me jealous, a conspiracy theorist, just because my family ran a charity center.
They ostracized me, humiliated me, and then Brittany' s father' s media machine discredited my family, painting us as backward fools.
Then the Outlaws came, paid to send a message, and they destroyed everything: my parents, my little sister Lily, and me.
The memory burned, a raw, open wound in my soul.
This time, I didn't stand up.
I leaned back, a mask of calm indifference, an empty smile for Liam who glanced my way in surprise.
Let them walk into the fire.
This time, I would be the one holding the gasoline. This Time, I Fight Back: The CEO's Daughter Returns
Modern The staff party was a dull throb, a familiar exhaustion settling deep in my bones.
Then Sabrina Chavez held out the brownie, her eyes wide and innocent, just like before.
But I remembered the last time.
Taking that brownie led to my throat closing, my lungs burning, and a severe anaphylactic shock.
I was dying on the floor, gasping for air, while my boyfriend, Ethan, comforted Sabrina, who claimed it was just cross-contamination.
He called me "dramatic" at my hospital bed.
That "accident" cost me my promotion, gave me lifelong respiratory damage, and shattered my relationship.
It all ended when Ethan, defending Sabrina again, pushed me, and my head hit the counter.
I died.
Now, I' m back, standing at that exact moment.
Sabrina' s smile was sickeningly sweet.
The world snapped into focus.
This time, everything changes. Five Years Old, Billionaire Bound
Romance I was five years old when my dad traded me to a dying billionaire.
He called me his lucky charm, a living prophecy, and in return, I got a mansion, a trust fund, and a fancy title: "Madam Chair" of a multi-billion-dollar foundation.
I grew up navigating the opulent halls, an outsider in a gilded cage.
My only real connection was with Ms. Chadwick, the formidable chief of staff, and the quiet, observant Wesley.
But my twisted stepsister, Jennifer, refused to let my past stay in the past.
She, along with my opportunistic father, saw my position as their ticket into the Blakely empire.
They relentlessly schemed, first trying to marry Jennifer off to the heir, Caleb, then, when that failed, she orchestrated a horrifying corporate sabotage.
She framed Caleb, leading to scandalous accusations and the collapse of a crucial merger.
Then came the news: Caleb's fiancée, Victoria, was dead, killed in a suspicious car accident.
I knew in my gut Jennifer was behind it, her ruthlessness finally escalating to murder.
The Blakelys were in chaos, desperate to cover up the scandal, so they gave Jennifer a high-profile role, silencing her with money and status.
They bought her silence, but they ignited my fury.
This wasn't just about family feuds anymore; it was about justice and survival.
I, the quiet girl dismissed as a symbolic chairwoman, decided to wield the foundation's immense power like a sword.
It was time to expose every lie, every betrayal, and tear down the very people who thought they could control my destiny. When Love Was A Trial
Fantasy For forty years, my life with Elara as a humble Appalachian herbalist was filled with quiet love and shared purpose.
Then, on her sixtieth birthday, a blinding light revealed her true form: an Aetheling, and our marriage, a cold "trial" to regain her powers.
She abandoned me for her "true love," Caelus, cursing me with unnatural eternal life to watch my entire world slowly die.
But the true horror came when Caelus, in a jealous rage, obliterated Hollow Creek, eradicating everyone I loved with a single blighting spell, leaving me the sole, cursed survivor.
Elara dragged me to their glittering Aethelgard, where I was a humiliating "pet," a constant reminder of her past.
The ultimate betrayal struck when Caelus framed me, and Elara, without hesitation, condemned me to the inescapable Barrow of Whispers, a prison worse than death.
How could the woman who shared my heart inflict such calculated cruelty and discard me so utterly?
My soul burned with an unbearable mix of grief, helplessness, and seething rage.
Yet, in that forgotten abyss, I found the echoing spirits of Hollow Creek, my murdered people.
They infused me with the ancient, untamed power of the earth itself, transforming me from a broken mortal into an unstoppable vessel of vengeance.
I am no longer Liam, the pet. I am the wrath of the mountains returned, and Elara and Caelus will pay. The Widow Who Wasn't
Romance My husband, Ethan Vance, was presumed drowned, swallowed by the Serpent River. For three agonizing months, I, Ava – owner of our beloved Portland bakery, "The Daily Rise" – had been a grieving widow, the city's gray mirroring the hollow ache in my chest. My dreams felt entombed by tragedy.
My friend Maya finally dragged me to a New Orleans music festival, desperate for a change of scene. Amidst the chaotic pulse and anonymous crowd, I saw him. Ethan. Alive. Laughing, his arm around Chloe Hayes, his "childhood best friend" and a flashy influencer who' d always been a little too close.
He looked vibrant, not like a man who' d fought a treacherous river. I heard him brag about "escaping the grind" thanks to "Chloe' s genius plan." Then came the gut punch: "Give it another week... Ava will have really hit rock bottom. She' ll be grateful for anything when I 'miraculously' return." My husband, celebrating my destruction.
The betrayal was colder, sharper than any grief. This wasn't just him being alive; it was a premeditated, cruel deception. He'd orchestrated my despair, mocking our shared life. How could the man I loved be such a monstrous con artist?
My hands shook, but my voice was steady as I called my lawyer friend. "He's not dead, Ben," I told him, the cold fury replacing my tears. "He's a con artist. And now, I want everything." The Watch That Broke Us
Modern My 31st birthday should have been a joyful celebration, a moment of genuine warmth with my younger brother, Mike.
He gifted me a luxury smartwatch, a gesture that, after years of my financial and emotional support for him, felt like a true acknowledgment of our bond.
But the warmth turned to ice moments later when Mike's new girlfriend, Brittany, barraged my phone with aggressive direct messages.
"Jealous old maid," she called me, accusing me of trying to "leech" off Mike and demanding *her* watch back.
Mike, bafflingly, defended Brittany's behavior, calling it "loyalty" and allowing her to launch a vicious online smear campaign against me.
He prioritized her whims over my needs, even lending out my professional camera equipment, only to publicly humiliate me at my office when I requested it back.
How could the brother I’d practically raised, the one I’d sacrificed so much for, turn so cruelly against me?
Every past act of love and support was now twisted into a cynical attempt to "control" him, dictated by a manipulative stranger.
The ultimate betrayal came when he shoved me, leaving me bleeding on my floor, snatching the watch, and walking out, incited by Brittany’s taunting text.
That moment transformed my pain into cold resolve: this wasn't just about a watch anymore; it was time to fight back. A Serpent in My Bed
Young Adult The smell of stale coffee hung heavy in my college dorm room.
My roommate, Jessica, hovered over me, her face a mask of feigned concern.
She was my best friend, or so I believed then.
It was the Monday before Thanksgiving break, a seemingly ordinary start to a week.
But the moment I opened my eyes, a brutal wave of memories crashed over me.
The screech of tires, blinding headlights, then utter darkness.
My family's beloved restaurant, Miller’s Place, crumbling to dust.
My dad, debilitated by a stroke, his once vibrant eyes now vacant.
My brother, Michael, broken, his promising future stolen.
And my sweet sister-in-law, Emily, clutching an empty nursery.
Jessica, the viper I’d foolishly welcomed, had meticulously orchestrated their ruin.
She’d falsely accused Michael, leading to Emily's devastating loss.
Her calculated lies had bled our family savings dry to fuel her extortion.
The shame, the whispers, the very fabric of our small town life, torn apart.
I, Sarah Miller, became the pariah, blamed for enabling the monster.
The relentless online bullying drove me to walk into traffic, desperate for an end.
Now, here she was again, playing the innocent victim, sighing about a lonely Thanksgiving.
Her eyes, wide and pleading, mirroring the exact look that had sealed our destruction.
How could I have been so catastrophically naïve, so utterly blind to the serpent in my bed?
A cold, potent fury roared inside me, threatening to consume everything.
The nightmare was beginning anew, a cruel replay of my worst past.
But this time, I wasn't the gullible girl.
I was back, somehow, exactly one year before the catastrophe.
This time, the script was mine to rewrite.
This time, I would not be her fool, her stepping stone to ruin.
This time, Jessica would finally pay.
Every last, agonizing cent. When the Wife Disappeared
Romance My tenth wedding anniversary, but the simmering lobster bisque couldn’t mask the acrid taste of my husband’s lies.
Mike, the man I’d built a life with, was openly having an affair with a twenty-something influencer, Skyler, her perfectly curated Instagram a brazen display of my unraveling world.
The real agony began when our young son, Leo, innocently spoke of "Aunt Sky," recounting secret adventures and sugary treats, blissfully unaware he was a pawn in his father’s cruel game.
Mike’s betrayal deepened into an insidious wound as he used our child, poisoning Leo against me, while claiming he was saving a vintage champagne for "a special occasion" that he'd uncork for Skyler on *our* anniversary.
But the final, gut-wrenching blow came when Skyler sent a text: a picture of her draped provocatively across *my* bed, wearing *my* husband’s shirt, flaunting her conquest with a chilling message: "#Upgrade."
My life, my home, my dignity, shattered into a million pieces, while he, completely oblivious, hummed about a "surprise" he had planned for my birthday.
The pain, the humiliation, the sheer audacity of it all was suffocating; divorce felt too clean, too easy for him, as if he could simply walk away unscathed.
My heart splintered further when Leo, confused and innocent, asked if "Aunt Sky" would be his new mommy, a question Mike himself had evidently planted.
There was no turning back, no hope for repair; in that moment of absolute despair and righteous fury, I knew Ellie Hayes had to die.
And Mike Hayes, the man who had stolen my future and poisoned my son, would watch his entire world burn down around him, ensuring he would finally pay the true, devastating price for his betrayal. You might like
Invisible To Her Bully
Dea B Unlike her twin brother, Jackson, Jessa struggled with her weight and very few friends. Jackson was an athlete and the epitome of popularity, while Jessa felt invisible.
Noah was the quintessential "It" guy at school-charismatic, well-liked, and undeniably handsome. To make matters worse, he was Jackson's best friend and Jessa's biggest bully.
During their senior year, Jessa decides it was time for her to gain some self-confidence, find her true beauty and not be the invisible twin.
As Jessa transformed, she begins to catch the eye of everyone around her, especially Noah.
Noah, initially blinded by his perception of Jessa as merely Jackson's sister, started to see her in a new light. How did she become the captivating woman invading his thoughts? When did she become the object of his fantasies?
Join Jessa on her journey from being the class joke to a confident, desirable young woman, surprising even Noah as she reveals the incredible person she has always been inside. The Hockey Star Regret
Aya Starr Coleen Maine hated Hayden Michaels with her entire heart. After high school graduation, she thought she had escaped the hell that being a classmate to Hayden was. Being his academic rival was enough to put her, Coleen, at the top of his shit list. To make matters worse, he's the hot, popular jock with a full-ride scholarship he doesn't need, because he has all the money that she doesn't.
When Coleen finds herself in close contact with Hayden again out of no free will of her own, she expects things to be the same. But somehow, somewhere between summer and starting their first year at college, something changed.
Now, Coleen isn't sure Hayden hates her anymore. Between her new job, college, and her friendships, she finds herself wondering what lies behind Hayden's deep gaze towards her. The Ninety-Ninth Goodbye
Tango The ninety-ninth time Jax Little broke my heart was the last time. We were the golden couple of Northgate High, our future perfectly mapped out for UCLA. But in our senior year, he fell for a new girl, Catalina, and our love story became a sick, exhausting dance of his betrayals and my empty threats to leave.
At a graduation party, Catalina "accidentally" pulled me into the pool with her. Jax dove in without a second's hesitation. He swam right past me as I struggled, wrapped his arms around Catalina, and pulled her to safety.
As he helped her out to the cheers of his friends, he glanced back at me, my body shivering and my mascara running in black rivers.
"Your life isn't my problem anymore," he said, his voice as cold as the water I was drowning in.
That night, something inside me finally shattered. I went home, opened my laptop, and clicked the button that confirmed my admission.
Not to UCLA with him, but to NYU, an entire country away. The Unwanted Heiress's Billionaire Return
Estelle Cramail After eight years in captivity, I was finally rescued. I thought it was the beginning of a new life with my mother.
But she didn't even look at me. She ran into the arms of a handsome stranger, her real husband, and I was treated like a dirty secret from her past.
They called me a contamination, a reminder of their trauma. My new stepsister set their Doberman on me, and as the dog's teeth sank into my arm, I looked up and saw my mother watching from the window.
She met my eyes for a second, then slowly closed the curtains.
In that moment, the last bit of hope I had died. The shallow bond of family was completely gone, and I finally gave up.
But they made one mistake. The family patriarch, suspicious after a car accident, ordered a secret DNA test.
The results came back on the day of my stepsister's birthday party, revealing a truth that would burn their perfect world to the ground. The Price of Unrequited Love
Shearwater Eighteen days after giving up on Brendan Maynard, Jayde Rosario cut off her waist-length hair and called her father, announcing her decision to move to California and attend UC Berkeley.
Her father, surprised, asked about the sudden change, reminding her how she' d always insisted on staying with Brendan. Jayde forced a laugh, revealing the painful truth: Brendan was getting married, and she, his stepsister, could no longer cling to him.
That night, she tried to tell Brendan about her college acceptance, but his fiancée, Chloie Ellis, interrupted with a bubbly call, and Brendan' s tender words to Chloie twisted a knife in Jayde' s heart. She remembered how his tenderness used to be hers alone, how he had protected her, and how she had poured out her heart to him in a diary and a love letter, only for him to explode, tearing the letter and yelling, "I'm your brother!"
He had stormed out, leaving her to painstakingly tape the shredded pieces back together. Her love, however, didn't die, not even when he brought Chloie home and told her to call her "sister-in-law."
Now, she understood. She had to put that fire out herself. She had to dig Brendan out of her heart. When Charity Turns Deadly
Shu Yu The last thing I saw was the Chicago skyline rushing up to meet me.
Then, merciful darkness.
Now, blinding sunlight streamed through a window, hitting my face as I lay in my university dorm room.
My head throbbed with a pain far deeper than a physical fall.
It was the brutal, horrifying memory of my parents, David and Susan Miller.
Their kind faces, now hauntingly overlaid with images of their blood on the polished floors of our beautiful Chicago home.
They were murdered.
And the architect of that devastation?
Brittany Evans, the very scholarship student my generous parents had taken under their wing, hailed as their "charity case."
Her smile, so sickeningly sweet and fake, her boyfriend Spike's cruel, calculating eyes, haunted my every waking thought.
She had meticulously orchestrated their downfall: the forged will, the baseless accusations leveled against me.
I endured the looks of disgust, the complete abandonment from everyone I had ever known.
The crushing despair consumed me, pushing me to the desperate, final leap.
How could such an act of profound kindness be repaid with such heinous betrayal and wanton violence?
How could I have been utterly blind, so incredibly naive, to allow my entire family, my entire life, to be so mercilessly dismantled, ending in that horrific, unjust way for all of us?
The injustice burned.
But then, I sat bolt upright in bed, gasping for air.
My hands flew to my throat, my chest.
I was whole.
Alive.
It was the first week of freshman year.
Again.
I had been granted a second chance, and this time, a cold, unyielding rage, something I' d never felt in my first, naive life, settled deep in my bones.
Brittany Evans would not win. Echoes of a Nightmare
Zi Ya The night before the SATs, I sat at my desk, my mind fixed not on review books, but on Kevin Johnson, my ex-boyfriend, whose excited voice boomed from downstairs, bragging to my dad about Tiff Rodriguez' s party-his new girlfriend.
Then, a horrifying, vivid memory jolted me from what should have been a normal evening: Tiff, sneering in the school bathroom, outlining her vicious plan to drug Kevin so he' d miss his Ivy League SATs. In that other life, the one I somehow lived, I' d desperately tried to intervene, to warn him, but he' d just laughed it off.
Tiff' s scheme ultimately failed and led to her death, but Kevin, consumed by rage, responded by framing me for sexual assault. The unbearable shame of his lies drove my parents to suicide, and I, arrested and condemned, died in juvenile detention, haunted by Kevin' s cruel visit displaying my parents' last, broken moments.
The utter injustice of his monstrous lies, the agonizing despair of being blamed for everything while struggling to help, was an unbearable burden. How could one life be so thoroughly shattered by such a deep, twisted betrayal?
But then, a sharp gasp brought me back to my room, the exact same night before the SATs, Kevin' s laughter still echoing. This was it: my second chance. A cold, knowing smile touched my lips. This time, I would write a different ending. 
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