Reborn at My Parents' Funeral

I opened my eyes amid a chorus of noisy crying. Before me was the familiar farmhouse yard, with two pitch-black coffins placed right in the center. I clenched the corner of my clothes tightly, my nails digging into my palm—I had actually been reborn. Reborn on the very day Gavin Lincoln and Lily Cunning were being laid to rest. In my previous life, these two "accidentally" died at a construction site during my senior year of high school. They left behind Ben Lincoln, my younger brother who had just turned four, abandoning the entire mess to me. Gritting my teeth, I dropped out of school and took Ben to the city to work. I washed dishes, delivered takeout, stood on the street handing out flyers in the dead of winter, my fingers frozen stiff like carrots. The boss resents me for having a deadweight attached and keeps deducting my wages every month. I could only run night deliveries after Ben Lincoln fell asleep, just to earn those extra two bucks for the night shift. Fifteen years—I haven't slept a full night or bought a single new piece of clothing. Finally got Ben Lincoln into a prestigious university, thought I could finally breathe, but at the College Entrance Banquet, I uncovered the truth. Gavin Lincoln and Lily Cunning are living well—dressed in brand names, wrapped around a girl about my age. The delicate features between that girl's brows and eyes were exactly the same as the baby photo I hid in an old album. "You're just a scapegoat. If you weren't useful, I would've strangled you long ago." Lily Cunning's voice was like a poisoned needle. "Once Ben graduates from university, you'll be useless too. Just go die." Gavin Lincoln waved his hand, and the bodyguards closed in. I looked at Ben Lincoln, the 'younger brother' I had raised for fifteen years. But he turned his face away coldly, as if I were a stranger. With fists and kicks raining down on me, I had only one thought—if there's a next life, I will make this family of three pay their blood debt with blood. When I opened my eyes again, I was back here. The coffin hadn't been laid to rest yet, and the villagers were still pretending to comfort me. I swallowed the bitter, bloody hatred in my throat and looked at the smiling faces of Gavin Lincoln and Lily Cunning in the memorial photo, feeling only bitter irony. They wanted to fake their deaths and escape to join that biological daughter who had been switched at birth? But I wouldn't let them get away with it. By the time the funeral procession buried the coffin, and the villagers gradually dispersed, I came back home. In the corner stood a rusty hoe — the very one I used in my past life to loosen the soil in the vegetable garden. I carried my hoe, climbing the mountain step by step. The earth was pale under the moonlight; every step felt like I was treading on the bones and blood of my past life. When I reached the grave, I swung the hoe down with all my strength. Dirt flew everywhere, and the black lacquer of the coffin gradually came into view under the moonlight. Sweat dripped down my forehead, but I struck harder and harder until, with a loud bang, the coffin lid was pried open. I leaned in to look, but when I saw what was inside clearly, I gasped sharply and screamed. The coffin wasn't empty. Inside were two charred bodies, curled up and unrecognizable. My hand gripping the hoe trembled uncontrollably. Gavin Lincoln and Lily Cunning went so far as to fake their deaths by using two dead bodies as substitutes. "Wendy! Are you out of your mind?!" From behind, the Village Chief's roar came, and when I turned, I saw a group of villagers rushing over with flashlights. Several women saw the charred body inside the coffin and were so terrified they collapsed onto the ground. The Village Chief's face turned ashen with rage as he rushed forward to snatch my hoe. "You actually dug up your parents' grave! This is unforgivable!" "Your parents died in a fire at the construction site trying to earn money for your tuition, and you still won't let them rest in peace!" His words lashed at me like a whip, and the villagers' eyes shifted instantly—filled with accusation and contempt. I suddenly crouched down, hugging my knees, and cried my heart out. My sobs tore through me, more heart-wrenching than when I first saw the charred corpse. "Village Chief, I don't want this either!" I wiped my tears, my voice choking, "My parents left so suddenly, I never even got to see them one last time..." "Ben is only four years old. Without our parents, how are my brother and I supposed to survive?" I pointed at the charred body inside the coffin, disbelief thick in my voice: "But you said they fell to their deaths—this is clearly from burning! Is the construction site lying?" The Village Chief's eyes flickered, and his tone softened: "Kid, you must have heard wrong. Your parents died in a fire at the construction site." "Is that so?" I lifted my tear-streaked face, deliberately wearing a half-doubtful, half-believing expression.