

Everyone in the family can see the countdown above Eli Nash, my brother, so we all know he dies the day he turns 16 years old. Thus, Eli becomes the most pampered person in the family. He gets all the good food, the latest limited-edition sneakers, and even the bedtime stories from Mom and Dad. I feel very bad for him, yet I am jealous of all the love he receives. I finally make it to the eve of his 16th birthday. But Mom and Dad fear that I will cause trouble, so they lock me in a storage room while I am suffering from a high fever. I panic as I bang on the door. "Please let me out, Mom! I'm running a fever, and my head hurts so badly!" Mom snaps through gritted teeth, "That's enough, Ash! Eli is going to die tomorrow! Why can't you just put up with it?" "I feel really sick, though…" I start losing consciousness as the sounds outside the door die down.

Modern corporate drone Jake Clark died from overworking himself during a late-night gaming session, only to wake up as the idol of Azury!

Yannis has performed 1,300 surgeries without a single failure, earning him the title of a peerless physician. When Joseph, the richest man in Riverton, begs Yannis to save his son's life, he never expects his arrogant son Jack to offend the very doctor who could save him. Before the surgery, Jack crosses paths with Yannis' wife and brother and deliberately humiliates them. Even when Yannis arrives and reveals his identity, Jack refuses to believe him and continues his arrogant behavior. Until the moment Jack enters the hospital room and discovers the shocking truth: The man he insulted is the very doctor he desperately needed.

Five years ago, Jason Stone was diagnosed with a terminal illness, and his girlfriend ran off with all his money. When he was about to commit suicide, his master, who was passing by Earth, took him to cultivate immortality. A thousand years later, he became a Great Sage, living on an alien world. One day, he finally connected to a spacetime vortex back to Earth, so he risked his life and made it back.

While they slice me apart, I desperately call my brother, Nathan Slade. He finally picks up as my consciousness starts to slip and answers in an annoyed voice, "What now?" "Nathan, help—" I don't get to finish before he cuts me off. "Can't you ever go a day without drama? Gemma's graduation is at the end of the month. Miss it, and I swear I'll kill you!" Then, he hangs up without a second thought. The agonizing pain swallows me whole, and my eyes close for good, tears still trailing down my cheeks. Well, good news, Nathan… You won't have to kill me because I'm already dead.

The doctor told me I had 72 hours left, unless I got access to the newest experimental treatment. However, there was only one slot available, and my husband Bowen Liddell gave it to my sister Yvonne Lawson instead. "Her kidney failure is more critical," he said. I nodded and swallowed the white pills that would only speed up my death. In the time I had left, I got a lot done. The lawyer's hand trembled as he passed me the documents. "Are you sure you want to transfer the two billion dollars in shares?" I replied, "Yes. Give them to Yvonne." My daughter, Candice Liddell, was giggling in Yvonne's arms. "Mommy Yvonne bought me a new dress!" I said, "It looks beautiful. Make sure you always listen to Mommy Yvonne, okay?" The art gallery I built from the ground up now had Yvonne's name on the sign. "You're too kind, Kathy," she said, crying. I told her, "You'll run it even better than I ever did." I even signed all my parents' trust fund away. That was when Bowen finally gave me his first genuine smile in years. "Kathleen, you've changed. You're not so aggressive anymore... You're beautiful like this." Indeed. This dying version of me finally became the 'perfect Kathleen Sullivan' in their eyes—obedient, generous, and no longer argumentative. The 72-hour countdown had already begun, and I couldn't help but wonder what they would remember when my heart stopped for good. The good wife who 'finally learned to let go', or the woman who completed her revenge by dying?

After eight years of marriage, Marvin discovered that his wife Hannah’s eight “miscarriages” had all been a lie. Her ninth pregnancy wasn’t his child—it was Jack’s, her adopted brother’s. She had only gotten pregnant to give birth to a child who could save Jack’s life.Heartbroken and betrayed, Marvin signed the divorce papers and accepted a position in a top-secret national project, ready to disappear from her world forever.But before he left, Hannah forced him to kneel, slapped him across the face, and even threatened him with his grandfather’s safety. For three days, he endured everything in silence.On the day he walked away, Marvin removed his wedding ring and never looked back.Only after Jack’s lies were exposed did Hannah finally realize what she had lost. But by then, Marvin’s phone number was no longer reachable—and the man who once loved her had vanished forever.

I am diagnosed with severe systemic lupus erythematosus, and I only have three days left to live. When my husband rejects my 188th plea for help, I take my test results and enter the hospice care center. "Hello, I'd like to schedule my own cremation process and apply for government aid." Ten minutes later, they arrive. Before I can speak, my lawyer husband, Jasper Horton, coldly slaps me across the face. "You're faking a terminal illness just to steal attention from Janice?" My doctor brother, Casey Carter, snatches the medical report from my hand and scoffs at it. "Lupus? If you're going to fake being sick, at least make it believable. Only one in a million people gets this." I endure the pain in my body, return to the counter, and hand in the application form and my medical records once more. The staff member sees the butterfly-shaped rash on my wrist and sympathizes with me. "I have no family left," I say. "I'm requesting cremation in three days, location doesn't matter. I just don't want my death to burden anyone."

I am diagnosed with severe systemic lupus erythematosus, and I only have three days left to live. When my husband rejects my 188th plea for help, I take my test results and enter the hospice care center. "Hello, I'd like to schedule my own cremation process and apply for government aid." Ten minutes later, they arrive. Before I can speak, my lawyer husband, Jasper Horton, coldly slaps me across the face. "You're faking a terminal illness just to steal attention from Janice?" My doctor brother, Casey Carter, snatches the medical report from my hand and scoffs at it. "Lupus? If you're going to fake being sick, at least make it believable. Only one in a million people gets this." I endure the pain in my body, return to the counter, and hand in the application form and my medical records once more. The staff member sees the butterfly-shaped rash on my wrist and sympathizes with me. "I have no family left," I say. "I'm requesting cremation in three days, location doesn't matter. I just don't want my death to burden anyone."