Ting Er Xiao Ling
11 Published Stories
Ting Er Xiao Ling's Books and Stories
The Secret Wife Makes A Spectacular Comeback
Modern On our third anniversary, I spent hours cooking my husband's favorite meal, waiting for him to come home.
Instead of a greeting, I overheard him and his mother in the living room, planning to evict me. He was an A-list actor, and I was his secret wife—a "failed PR investment" they now wanted to erase with a $250,000 NDA.
He told me my trailer-park background was a stain dragging his career down. Later, when I suffered a severe allergic reaction to a sleeping pill and nearly died, he didn't care. He stormed into my hospital room, accused me of faking a suicide attempt for attention, and called my late mother a pathetic drunk. Even the arrogant ER doctor treated me like a desperate, hysterical housewife wasting medical resources.
I gave up three years of my life to be his unpaid maid and his shadow, only to be thrown away like garbage. But what my husband didn't know was that the mysterious, top-tier creator "Xen" he was desperately trying to sign a life-changing deal with to save his career... was actually me.
I ripped the IV out of my arm, bleeding onto the hospital floor, and smiled at him.
"I'm going to watch you fall."
I hired the most ruthless divorce lawyer in LA to take half his fortune, and quietly canceled his dream contract. This time, I'm going to watch his gilded life burn to the ground. Too Late, Ex-Husband: Watch Me Shine
Modern Idella's mother was dying in the ICU, needing a two-million-dollar deposit within forty-eight hours for a lifesaving surgery.
Desperate, she begged her billionaire husband, Fount, for an advance on her own trust fund.
Instead, he tossed her a hundred-thousand-dollar check for "funeral expenses," fired her from his company, and seized her life's research.
He froze all her bank accounts, leaving her unable to even pay the vet bills after their five-year-old surrogate son nearly drowned her dog.
When she tried to stop the boy, Fount threatened to have her dying mother thrown onto the street unless she bowed her head and apologized to the child.
Stripped of her dignity and money, Idella dragged herself to Fount's private office, only to overhear a conversation through the cracked door.
Inside, Fount was intimately holding his adopted sister, Angelita.
"But Austin is our flesh and blood, Fount. He can't keep calling that barren loser 'Mom' in public."
Idella's universe shattered. She was nothing but a pathetic shield to cover up their incestuous affair, and her severe infertility diagnosis had been a complete lie orchestrated by Fount's doctor.
Three years of a sham marriage crushed her soul, but the absolute despair quickly morphed into a freezing knot of hatred.
Just as she hit rock bottom, her phone buzzed with a call from Fount's biggest corporate rival, offering her a five-million-dollar signing bonus.
Idella took off her diamond wedding ring, ready to burn the Fitzgerald empire to the ground. I Am Not Your Pawn Anymore
Modern Barrett handed me a Montblanc pen and a legal document, his voice as cold as the rain lashing against his Tribeca penthouse. He told me to sign an admission of guilt for an SEC violation I never committed.
"Eighteen months in prison, Anaya," he said, adjusting his cufflinks without looking at me. "The trust fund is set up. You'll get twenty million dollars the moment you step out."
I was being sold. The man I had loved for ten years, the man whose secrets I had kept, was trading my freedom to save his merger with Adele Townsend. He had scrubbed the digital logs of Adele’s illegal trades and pinned everything on me. When I refused, he didn't see my heartbreak; he only saw a malfunction in a business transaction.
"Do not speak her name," he hissed when I mentioned Adele’s fraud. "This merger is bigger than you."
He forced the pen into my hand, calling me dramatic while his security guards dragged me to a locked bedroom to "cool down." I spent three days parched and starving, listening to the muffled sound of champagne corks popping down the hall. They were celebrating my destruction. My heart finally gave out in that luxury cage, the darkness swallowing me as I realized I was nothing more than a disposable asset to him.
I died in that room, alone and betrayed by the person I trusted most. How could he do this? How could a decade of loyalty be worth less than a stock price? Why did I let him treat me like a sacrificial lamb for so long?
GASP. I shot up in bed, my lungs burning, but I wasn't in the penthouse. I was in my old, peeling Brooklyn apartment, and the date on my phone was May 12th—three years ago.
My phone buzzed with a text from Barrett: "Where are you? Bring the Townsend files. Now."
A cold, cruel smile touched my lips as I typed the reply that would start his nightmare.
"I quit." Orchestrated Accidents: A Heiress's Revenge
Modern They told me one of them would be my husband. Seven men, groomed by my father to be part of our music empire. I only ever wanted one: Devon Valenzuela, the band's brilliant, brooding lead singer.
But the night I caught him kissing his "sister," Delilah, I learned the devastating truth. The seven of them weren't rivals for my hand; they were a pack, united in a secret pact to protect her. I was just a variable in their game.
They orchestrated "accidents" to keep me dependent-a near-miss in the studio, a fall from my horse that left me with a broken leg. Devon played the part of the doting fiancé perfectly, nursing me back to health.
Then I overheard him confessing to another band member.
"It was the only way to get her attention," he said. "The bone breaking… that was an accident. Not part of the plan."
At my 21st birthday party, he humiliated me by broadcasting a video of my most private confessions of love for him to all our guests. But he didn't know I had a video of my own-one that would expose his precious Delilah and tear their entire world apart. The Altar, The Lies, His Penance
Modern Five years ago, my fiancé, Carter, left me at the altar. My sister, Camilla, framed me, and my own parents helped brand me a promiscuous woman who got pregnant by a stranger.
Abandoned and shamed, I was left to raise my son, Leo, alone, surviving three suicide attempts and a complete mental breakdown.
Now, Carter is back. He's obsessed, convinced Leo is his son, and is trying to take him from me. He even used a DNA test to prove Leo isn't my biological child, pushing me back to the edge of insanity.
When my sister tried to disfigure me with acid, I finally fought back. I slapped my parents, severing ties with the family that used and abused me.
But the truth was far more twisted than I ever imagined. Carter's mother confessed everything-the lies, the manipulation, the real reason he abandoned me.
He destroyed his own career in an act of penance, but it was too late.
Because the man who saved me, the man who stood by me through it all, had loved me in secret for years. And I was finally ready to see him. When Memory Returns, Love Dies
Romance Sunlight hit my face, but I woke to a room I didn' t know, a smiling couple in a picture on the nightstand-strangers. Panic built. Then, a man from the picture walked in, tray in hand. "Good morning, sleepyhead," he said. He was my husband, Ethan, and my name was Ava, but it meant nothing. My memory reset every night, a rare amnesia, he explained.
Then, one evening, it happened. My memory didn' t reset. I remembered everything: his assistant Chloe, their too-familiar glances, and their cruel whispers in his office. "It's convenient," he' d said. "She doesn't remember. I can do whatever I want." He saw me as a broken toy, his "perfect arrangement."
I ran, lost in a city that was supposed to be home. When I returned, defeated, Chloe was on my sofa, wine in hand, acting like she owned the place. "Where else would you go?" she purred. Ethan, instead of concern, was annoyed. When I dared to demand a divorce, he grabbed me, threatening. He coerced me into kneeling before Chloe, forcing me to apologize. Then, she slapped me. He watched.
The monster had built his life on my disability, isolating me, delighting in my helplessness. He had convinced my parents I needed isolation, turning me into a commodity. He didn' t just exploit me; he maintained my torment. How could he be so cruel?
But then, a secret journal, hidden by a past self, revealed everything. He hadn't just used me; he was enabling my condition. The realization was sickening. I was trapped, but this time, the truth was burned into my mind. I knew I had to escape. Dowry Denied, Destiny Rewritten
Modern The air in the Las Vegas hotel choked with stale champagne and failure.
My fiancé, Mark, slumped at the poker table, surrounded by his smirking cousins, Kevin and Brian.
A fortune in chips piled before them. Mark' s pile was empty.
My heart sank when Kevin announced the amount: "One hundred and eighty thousand dollars."
That was my dowry, a fund for our future, our new home.
Mark' s mother, Brenda, cornered me, her voice sharp. "You need to fix this, Sarah. It' s a family debt. You have the money. Pay it."
My blood ran cold. She wanted my dowry to cover a reckless gambling debt.
Mark wouldn' t even look at me, a pathetic man playing for sympathy.
"Brenda, that' s… that' s everything we have," I stammered.
"What kind of life will you have if your husband is in debt to his own family?" she countered. "Pay it, Sarah. It' s the only way."
I looked at Mark, begging him with my eyes to defend us. He just shook his head, a weak gesture of defeat.
The pressure was crushing, a trap closing in. My hand trembled as I reached for my purse, numb with shock and a twisted sense of duty.
Then, a line of text shimmered in the air, a translucent pop-up.
"Kevin and Brian are exchanging triumphant glances. They are predators who just cornered their prey."
I blinked, shaking my head, but it was still there.
Then another: "Brenda' s eyes are fixed on your purse, gleaming with anticipation, like a hawk watching a mouse."
The fog in my brain cleared. This wasn' t tragic loss. This was a performance. A carefully planned scam to steal my money.
Seven years of love, crumbling in an instant. The man I was to marry was a conspirator, his mother the mastermind.
The devastation felt physical, but a cold, hard anger began to rise.
They thought I was a fool. They were wrong.
My hand became perfectly steady. I took a deep breath, the air tasting of betrayal.
"No," I said, the single word cutting through the tension. When Best Friends Become Strangers
Young Adult I spent my entire childhood as one-third of an inseparable trio: "EOM Forever."
That meant a built-in future, headed to UCLA with my best friends, Olivia and Maya.
And by college, I was supposed to choose which of them I' d pledge my heart to.
But as my cursor hovered over the UCLA "Submit" button, thinking about that pact, triumph was replaced by a chilling sense of surrender.
Instead, on a whim, I clicked "Confirm Enrollment" for Yale.
It wasn't just a different school; it was an escape route.
Because for months, our tight-knit world had been invaded by Liam Spencer, a charming new transfer.
He charmed Olivia and Maya, and then effortlessly pushed me to the sidelines.
My messages in our group chat became sparse, often ignored, as their plans revolved around him.
Liam's "accidents" were always strangely convenient – a spilled glass of red wine on my laptop, a sudden "fainting spell" right before graduation.
And every time, Olivia and Maya leaped to his defense, dismissing my feelings.
"It's just a sweatshirt, Ethan," Olivia chided when Liam wore mine.
"He needs it more," Maya chimed in, with a heart emoji.
The ultimate betrayal came on Decision Day: Liam pushed me, cracking my head open on a stone planter.
Even then, as I lay in the hospital, Olivia and Maya pled for his forgiveness, calling him "tormented."
How could they be so blind?
My childhood best friends had become total strangers, enabling a manipulative narcissist, turning my life into a living hell.
I was done being their afterthought, their punching bag.
Leaving them behind wasn't just a decision; it was a desperate declaration of war for my own life.
But letting go of "EOM Forever" meant they wouldn't let go of me.
Not Olivia, not Maya, and certainly not Liam. You might like
Flash Marriage to the Tycoon, I'm Spoiled Rotten
Hollow Echo Cast out by an "elite" family and mocked by high society, Elena shocked everyone by marrying the most powerful man in town.
They assumed it was a temporary arrangement-after all, he had said, "The agreement is for two years. After that, we're done."
Yet after the wedding, he refused to let her go. "Elena, you can't leave me."
As he doted on her, rumors shattered one by one. A renowned painter, top hacker, and tech mastermind-her true identities stunned the world.
When a luxury empire announced their lost heiress, all eyes turned to her. "Why did she look exactly like Elena?" Married To My Ex-Fiancé's Silent Uncle
Ming Yue Twenty minutes before the "Wedding of the Century" at The Plaza, I stood outside the Presidential Suite in a fifty-thousand-dollar Vera Wang gown. I was the girl from a West Virginia trailer park about to marry Hugh Maxwell, the golden heir to a billion-dollar defense empire.
I pushed the door open only to find Hugh pinned against the bed with my own stepsister, Floy. She was wearing my bridal diamond necklace, and the sounds of their laughter scraped against my eardrums like sandpaper.
I didn't scream; I listened as Hugh grunted that once the wedding was over and the trust fund unlocked, he'd dump "that hillbilly trash" on a bus back to the mountains. They weren't just cheating; they were planning to steal my family's land deeds and leave me with nothing. When I set off the sprinklers and exposed their naked bodies to the paparazzi, the Maxwell family didn't apologize. They called me a "greedy peasant" and threatened to ruin my life unless I signed a new deal to save their crashing stock.
I realized then that I was never a bride to them. I was a transaction, a rounding error in a ledger to be used and discarded. They thought my poverty made me weak and my silence made me a victim.
"If we don't have a marriage certificate by midnight, the bank freezes thirty percent of our liquidity," their lawyer warned.
So, I gave them exactly what they wanted. I used a loophole in their hundred-year-old family covenant and married the only other direct heir available. I didn't marry Hugh. I walked into the ICU and married his uncle, Fleet Maxwell-the legendary war hero who had been in a vegetative state for months.
Now, I am the matriarch of the Maxwell dynasty. I've suspended Hugh's executive powers, exiled my mother-in-law to the Swiss Alps, and taken control of the family vault. They think I'm just a gold-digger waiting for a "corpse" to die so I can collect a fifty-million-dollar widow's payout.
But last night, as I lay beside my comatose husband, the man they called a vegetable gripped my hand back. The Unwanted Wife Is A Zillionaire
Reilly Mcardle For seven years, I played the perfect, hidden wife to billionaire August Chambers while working quietly as an ER nurse.
Three days before our marriage contract expired, he stormed into my emergency room carrying a bleeding woman. It was Allena, his cousin's fiancée.
She had suffered a ruptured corpus luteum from their violent, aggressive sex. Instead of hiding his affair, August ordered me to clear the floor and threw a massive check at my face to buy my silence. Later, his friends trapped me in a VIP club. When a waiter tripped, August violently shoved me aside just to protect Allena from a spilled cup of coffee. I crashed into a glass table, a sharp edge slicing deep into my arm.
"Apologize to her, and I'll have my driver take you to the hospital."
As my blood soaked into the white rug, he stood over me, demanding I get on my knees for his mistress. He didn't know I had faked a miscarriage five years ago to secretly raise our daughter far away from his cruelty. He also didn't know the money he flaunted was pocket change compared to my hidden AI tech empire.
I calmly tied a tourniquet around my bleeding arm with my teeth and wiped my blood directly over his heart onto his custom suit.
"I'm done with you."
The submissive nurse was dead, and it was time to let him burn in the ruins of his own lies. The Humble Ex-wife Is Now A Brilliant Tycoon
Flory Corkery For three quiet, patient years, Christina kept house, only to be coldly discarded by the man she once trusted.
Instead, he paraded a new lover, making her the punchline of every town joke.
Liberated, she honed her long-ignored gifts, astonishing the town with triumph after gleaming triumph.
Upon discovering she'd been a treasure all along, her ex-husband's regret drove him to pursue her. "Honey, let's get back together!"
With a cold smirk, Christina spat, "Fuck off."
A silken-suited mogul slipped an arm around her waist. "She's married to me now. Guards, get him the hell out of here!" Untouchable After Goodbye: She Had A Secret Empire
Mira Westfield "Let's get a divorce. She's pregnant and deserves a place in my life."
He once promised to protect Claire forever, yet when his first love returned, he cast her aside. For three years, Claire dimmed her brilliance, living quietly as the obedient wife behind him.
When he handed her divorce papers to give his pregnant mistress a place, Claire no longer hid her talents.
The woman he had overlooked was a legendary healer, racing prodigy, and a genius designer. After the divorce, she reclaimed her glory.
When he pleaded, "Honey, let's remarry," another man pulled her close. "She's my wife now. As for you... Someone, take him out and give him what he deserves!" Jilted Heiress: Marrying The Untouchable Tycoon
Piao Guo Allison Montgomery was waiting at the airport when an audio alert from her parked Range Rover flashed on her phone.
Assuming it was a break-in, she checked the live dashcam feed, only to see her fiancé, Finn, and her younger sister, Cheyanne, passionately making out in the backseat.
"Tell me I'm better than her," Cheyanne whispered. "Tell me I'm better than Allison."
"You are," Finn gasped. "God, you are."
When Allison confronted her family with the video, she expected justice.
Instead, her uncle and mother fiercely defended the cheaters.
They blamed Allison's "cold and frigid" nature for pushing Finn away, victim-blaming her in front of the entire household staff.
To protect their corporate alliance, her uncle ruthlessly announced that the engagement would be transferred to Cheyanne, and threatened to strip Allison of her inheritance.
Stripped of her fiancé, her family, and her dignity, Allison realized her pristine twenty-year life was a complete lie.
The people who were supposed to love her were actively protecting her abusers, leaving her utterly isolated and burning with a cold, protective rage.
Refusing to be their victim, Allison targeted Finn's ruthless, billionaire uncle, Adam Kensington, proposing a fake marriage to secure the capital needed to crush her family.
But when the notoriously untouchable Wall Street phantom not only accepted her proposal, but demanded she immediately move into his penthouse to raise his secret daughter, Allison realized she had just sold her soul to the devil. Abandoned Ex-Wife: Now Untouchable
Tao Yaoyao My five-year-old daughter was dying in the ICU, her heartbeat replaced by the continuous, electronic scream of a flatline. I gripped her cold hand, my throat sealed shut by a terror so absolute I couldn't even cry out.
I dialed my husband Grayson's private number, the one reserved only for me and his assistants. He declined the call instantly. A second later, a text buzzed against my palm:
"In a meeting. Do not disturb. Stop calling."
Five miles away, Grayson was at a luxury gala, adjusting his silk tie and laughing with Belle Escobar. He told her I was just being "dramatic" and using our daughter's "fever" as an excuse to avoid the event. He had no idea Effie's heart had already stopped.
When I finally reached our penthouse, soaked from the rain and carrying Effie's small socks in a plastic bag, Grayson didn't even look at me. He snapped at me for ruining the hardwood floors and asked if I'd left Effie with the nanny just to "feel sorry for myself."
Three days later, while I buried our daughter in a small, lonely ceremony, Grayson was at the Hamptons. Belle posted a photo of him golfing with the caption: "A mental health day with the boys." He didn't even attend the funeral, but he returned home demanding I clear out Effie's room to make a study for Belle's son.
The injustice burned through me until there was nothing left. I swallowed a handful of sleeping pills, desperate to join my daughter. But instead of the darkness, I woke up to blinding lights and the scent of Grayson's expensive cologne.
I was standing in a ballroom, wearing a blue silk dress I had already burned. Above me, a banner read: "Happy 5th Birthday Kaiden & Effie."
I was back, exactly one year before the tragedy. This time, I wasn't going to be the grieving wife. I was going to be their worst nightmare. Bound To The Disabled Apocalyptic Tycoon
Star Cruiser Jessie's biological parents brought her back from a Rust Belt wasteland just to force her into marrying a paralyzed heir to save their bankrupt empire.
Three years later, when the global doomsday apocalypse hit, her own family shoved her into a swarm of infected corpses.
As she was being torn apart by mutated hounds, she was stunned by what she saw.
Her fake sister, Harley, was clutching the antique silver necklace she had stolen from Jessie—an heirloom that secretly contained a magical spatial dimension.
When the infected swarmed them, her biological mother didn't even look back.
"Jessie is just white trash, she is perfectly suited to buy us time to run!"
Harley used Jessie's stolen necklace to live in absolute safety and luxury, while Jessie's windpipe was ripped out in the rotting wasteland.
Until she died, Jessie didn't understand. She was their true flesh and blood.
Why did her parents hate her so much? Why was she sacrificed so easily while the fake daughter got everything?
Opening her eyes again, the blinding glare of a crystal chandelier stabbed into her retinas.
She was back in the Manhattan penthouse on the exact day they sold her off.
This time, Jessie calmly signed the marriage contract, demanded a one hundred million dollar buyout, and walked out to prepare for the apocalypse. The Jilted Ex-Wife Is A Zillionaire
Felix Turner Isabel returned to her penthouse after a grueling seventeen-hour flight, only to be greeted by the cloying scent of another woman's perfume.
Her husband of three years, Darius, sat waiting with divorce papers. He wanted to marry his mistress, Dove, and offered Isabel a measly one million dollars, treating her like a greedy charity case from the Rust Belt who should just take the payout and vanish.
But Isabel didn't want his pity. She demanded the four percent equity stake in his family's company that she rightfully owned—a stake worth 1.5 billion dollars. When she revealed this, the wealthy family turned vicious. They refused to acknowledge that she had secretly saved their empire from bankruptcy years ago. Instead, Darius and Dove orchestrated a brutal public execution. They ambushed her at a top law firm, spreading malicious lies that her investment money was stolen from a Ponzi scheme. They even hired a fake victim to scream at her in the lobby, successfully terrifying Isabel's lawyer into dropping her case on the spot.
She had quietly rescued their entire legacy, yet they were willing to frame her as a criminal and destroy her life just to keep her rightful billions.
As Darius and his mistress gloated over her absolute ruin, the most ruthless and feared lawyer in New York suddenly stepped in front of Isabel, his voice cutting through the dead silence.
"Your case, I'll take it." 
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