Cun Li
14 Published Stories
Cun Li's Books and Stories
The Wife They Buried: Now Watch Her Rise
Sci-fi My experimental cure for a degenerative neurological disease had a bizarre requirement: "positive emotional resonance."
Love was a luxury my family never afforded me.
My twin Jessica, my parents David and Linda, and even my husband Mark, bled me dry, taking credit for my genius.
The Phoenix Foundation announced my therapy was failing: seven days until my death.
Still, they demanded more.
Parents needed me to fix Jessica's buggy app for a funding round.
Mark required elaborate legal strategies for his career.
My talent, always theirs.
My head throbbed, my body failing, but they saw only annoyance, demanding I work.
Jessica feigned illness, then brazenly demanded IP rights to my groundbreaking app.
Mark, dismissing my imminent death as "dramatics," framed me for Jessica' s hit-and-run, securing my forced committal-a painful death sentence.
He even injected me with a lethal dose.
My ultimate betrayal came when Jessica brutally attacked me with shears, and Mark, seeing my bleeding face, still prioritized her comfort.
Lying there, bleeding and abandoned, a cold clarity dawned: they would never change.
My life, a relentless sacrifice, was ending in torment.
Why did they always break me, only to demand more?
But then, a whisper from the Foundation: "Protocol transition."
"Karmic Retribution Resonance."
Not death, but a second chance.
Not for love, but for their regret.
I would become Anna Hayes, an architect of their downfall, finally taking back what was mine. Discarded Love, The Reaper's Regret
Mafia My husband, Dante Moretti, the feared Underboss, signed the divorce papers I slipped him without a glance. Too busy texting his true love, Sofia, he was blind to the annulment decree ending everything. The Reaper couldn't see the death of his own marriage.
For three years, I was Elena, his silent wife, the "Caged Canary," cleaning his messes while meticulously planning my escape from our loveless world.
He dismissed me for Sofia's every whim, publicly shaming me after a past love letter was read, then abandoning me again for her fake crisis.
That night, he violently shoved me against a wall, leaving me bleeding and concussed, rushing instead to protect Sofia. Discarded and injured, my invisible love became a weapon against me.
His crushing blindness, the cold realization I was a mere placeholder, fueled a profound injustice. How could he be so lethal, yet oblivious to his wife, favoring the one who betrayed him?
With chilling resolve, I uploaded Sofia's confession, initiated a massive financial transfer dismantling his empire, and staged my own death. Under a new identity, I fled to San Francisco, ready to build my power, far from his bloody, deceitful world. The Vanished Wife's Revenge: No Turning Back
Mafia My husband looked at the toxicology report proving the daughter of the Chicago Capo had poisoned my mother.
Then, without missing a beat, he looked me in the eye and asked if I wanted to discuss the dinner menu for the gala.
That was the moment I realized Dante Vitiello wasn't my savior; he was the devil in a bespoke suit.
To protect his precious alliance with Chicago, he buried the truth.
When my mother died from the arsenic, he didn't offer comfort. Instead, he forced me to sign annulment papers, claiming I was mentally unstable.
He stripped me of my title, my home, and my dignity to marry Sofia Moretti—the very woman who killed my mother—all because she claimed to be pregnant with his heir.
I stood in the freezing rain, watching a giant screen in Times Square as he proposed to her.
He told the press that Sofia was his hero, the one who saved his life during the ambush in Chicago.
He lied.
Under my soaked hoodie, the jagged scar on my arm throbbed. I was the one who took that bullet for him. I was the one who stitched myself up in silence so he wouldn't feel indebted to me.
He erased my sacrifice to build a throne for his mistress.
He thought he had broken me. He thought Elena Vitiello would fade away in a crumbling apartment in Queens.
But he forgot one thing: I was the one who built his encrypted laundering network. I held the keys to his entire empire.
I threw my wedding ring into the trash can and lit a match.
Elena Vitiello died that night.
And the woman who rose from the ashes didn't want his love anymore.
She wanted his ruin. The Alpha's Secret Heir and the Vanished Luna
Werewolf I was pregnant with the Alpha’s heir, yet Michael refused to Mark me, calling my concerns "hormonal" while he paraded another woman, Serena, as his future Luna.
The betrayal cut deep, but the breaking point came at the pack celebration.
Serena slapped me across the face in front of everyone, and instead of defending his pregnant mate, Michael looked bored and ordered me to stop making a scene.
That night, I didn't just leave; I ripped the mate bond out of my own mind.
The pain was blinding, but necessary.
With my mother's help, I faked my death—and the death of our unborn child—to escape his toxic hold.
For four years, I raised my son, Finn, on a hidden island, safe from the politics that nearly destroyed me.
I thought I was free, until a ragged, broken man washed up on my shore.
It was Michael.
He wasn't the arrogant King anymore; he was a beggar who had spent years mourning a ghost.
When he saw Finn, he fell to his knees, weeping at the sight of the boy who had his golden eyes.
"Is he mine?" he begged.
"He is mine," I told him coldly. "You lost him the day you chose her."
I prepared to send him away, but then the alarms rang.
Serena had found us, leading a rogue army to slaughter my son for dark magic.
Michael looked at me, his eyes clearing for the first time in years.
"I will be your shield," he vowed.
He ran straight into the silver blades, taking the death blow meant for our child.
As he died in my arms, I finally forgave him.
Now, I stand over his grave not as a victim, but as the Alpha Luna who will rule the world he left behind. My Fiancé's Ultimate Deception
Modern After seven years of devotion, I finally became pregnant with my fiancé Coleton's twins. But he secretly terminated the pregnancy, claiming it was for my health.
The real reason? His ex-girlfriend, Annis, suggested it.
He came to the hospital late, a fresh hickey on his neck, and instead of comforting me, he forced me to post a public apology to Annis for causing her "drama." He even used my phone to flirt with her, planning their dinner date right in front of me while I was still bleeding from the procedure he ordered.
When I refused to play along, he abandoned me at the hospital exit, causing me to fall and get a concussion. Later, I found them in our bed, and he had the audacity to invite me to their "celebratory" dinner.
"You're doing this for me, right?" he asked, a hopeful smile on his face. "So I can finally be happy with Annis?"
I looked at the man I had given my life to, the man who had just stolen our children from me, and saw a stranger. This time, there would be no tears, no second chances. I took the pre-nup he signed years ago-the one that gave me a huge chunk of his company if he ever betrayed me-and walked away for good. Love's Betrayal, Fortune's Irony
Modern I gave up my art scholarship to put my boyfriend, Armand, through law school. I worked three jobs and even took a knife for him, believing his promise that we would build an empire together.
But the day he became a star lawyer, I found him kissing his client, Cassandra, in the snow.
The shock caused a miscarriage. When I tried to end my life, he brought his mistress to my hospital bed to call me a lunatic.
He then used my family to blackmail me, forcing me to play the perfect wife while he flaunted his affair.
For years, I was his broken trophy, a testament to his power. He had the career I funded, the woman he chose, and complete control over my life.
But on the night his mistress held me at knifepoint on a skyscraper rooftop, she didn't kill me.
She turned and plunged the knife into Armand's chest instead.
And as his legal wife, I inherited everything. His Betrayal Created A Ruthless Queen
Billionaires My marriage ended the way the world found out about it: on a police report that landed on my desk. I was a prosecutor who had moved back to San Francisco to save my political marriage to tech billionaire Hilton Austin.
When I confronted him at the hotel, I found my husband on one knee, not proposing, but tenderly tying his influencer mistress' s shoe.
That night, he abandoned me on a dark highway to rush to her side, causing me to miscarry the child I was secretly carrying. At the hospital, he publicly accused me of faking the pregnancy, slapped me, and then cut my arm with a piece of broken glass.
"Now you have a reason to be in the hospital," he said coldly.
The love I' d held for him since I was sixteen didn't just fade; it was murdered. He thought he had broken me, but he only created a monster.
I used my family's power to have him thrown in jail. When he begged for a second chance, I brought in my childhood friend, Adrien, and delivered the final, killing blow.
"The baby wasn't yours," I said, my voice like ice. "It was his." My Life, His Deadly Design
Horror My life was a perfectly crafted blueprint of happiness. I was an architect, and my daughter, Lily, was my beautiful design.
Then Sophia came along, filling spaces I hadn't known were empty, and her angelic son, Lucas, instantly became Lily' s "best brother."
But on our first family camping trip, I found a horrifying collection: a dozen broken dolls, hair snipped, limbs twisted, eyes gouged out.
"Lucas said it's his collection," Lily whispered.
He smiled his innocent smile, claiming he "just found them and gave them a home," and Sophia rushed to his defense, completely blind.
Then Lily fell sick, a strange, spiderweb-like rash spreading across her body.
Lucas, the doting brother, sat by her hospital bed, winding a beautiful antique music box-his father' s, he said-filling the room with gentle melodies.
But when no one was watching, his sweet expression would vanish, replaced by a cold, detached curiosity as he stared at Lily' s fading form.
The day Lily died, that infernal music box was still playing.
Her death wasn't an accident; I saw the cold, unnerving stillness in Lucas' s eyes.
He had poisoned my daughter, enjoying every slow, agonizing moment.
My world was annihilated, consumed by grief and the chilling melody of that music box, until everything went black.
Then I gasped, eyes flying open, the scent of grilled burgers and fresh-cut grass in the air.
I was holding a velvet ring box, and Sophia was smiling, her voice full of love. "Yes, Ethan, I' ll marry you."
It was the day of our engagement party.
The day before the nightmare began.
And standing next to Sophia, holding her hand and beaming up at me, was Lucas, the monster hiding behind an angel' s face.
I was back. I had been given a second chance, and I would not waste it. A Sacrifice Rekindled
Fantasy The smell of smoke and burning wood woke me, my heart pounding. It was the same fire, the one that had consumed everything in my first life.
But this time, Kaelen was alive, his silver eyes narrowed, not in concern for me, but in a frantic search for Lyra.
He accused me of setting the blaze, demanding I save her with my own lifeblood, forcing the agonizing transfusion while she smirked, thriving on my pain and his blind devotion.
How could he believe her lies, even as I sacrificed everything, again and again, for the very life he now blamed me for saving?
Then, the memory hit me: Kaelen, dying in my past life, his last breath a bitter regret not for Lyra, but for me. This second chance wasn't just about saving him from fire, but from himself, from the painful, world-shattering regret that had haunted his dying eyes. Her Ex, His Redemption
Romance I was the rock of InnovateATX, Bella's husband, the tech visionary who' d put his own startup on hold to support her dream.
Our Austin home, a life I helped design, was where I genuinely believed our future lay, despite the secret pact I' d made years ago with venture capitalist Olivia Hayes to neutralize Victor Cole, the man connected to my family' s ruin.
Then, Bella handed me divorce papers, declaring, "It was always him," nodding towards Victor, her resurrected college sweetheart.
Weeks blurred into public accusations – Bella siding with Victor, dismissing me as "moping" after a staged office "accident"- and private indignities, as she signed my resignation without a glance, calling my efforts a "drag."
She watched me clear out our home, deeming our shared memories "sentimental junk," and, as I stumbled through the wreckage of my life, coldly stated, "I don' t love you anymore."
Just when I thought it couldn't get worse, a truck swerved into my car, leaving me mangled and bleeding on a Hill Country highway.
Through my blurring vision, all I could see was Bella, rushing past my wreck to Victor' s less damaged Tesla, cradling him, utterly oblivious to me.
In that moment, the final, agonizing truth slammed into me: she truly felt nothing for me, the man she married, the man who had loved her.
The raw realization was more painful than any shattered bone.
Desperate, I fumbled for my phone and choked out Olivia' s name.
Her voice cut through the chaos, calm and cutting: "They can make you disappear, Ethan. Officially. A clean slate. A new life. If you want it."
Watching Bella's betrayal unfold, I whispered, "Yes. Do it."
As darkness consumed me, my old life ended, and a new one, colder, sharper, was born from the ashes. The Unwanted Wife's Unstoppable Rise
Romance For five years, I was the devoted rock for Mark, pouring my love, money, and unwavering support into his struggling tech startup, dreaming of our shared future.
Then, on April Fool's Day, a wedding invitation flashed on Instagram: Mark and Chloe.
His college crush.
Her smug caption, "#NotAJokeAnymore?", felt like a direct stab.
He'd hidden it.
That night, a drunken Mark called me Chloe, regretting he was "too broke" to pursue her.
His friend confirmed I was a convenient rebound.
Days later, I found Chloe in our apartment, wearing his shirt, who then gloatingly showed me their engagement photos – taken a month ago.
I blacked out.
Waking in the hospital, Mark brazenly offered a "solution": he' d keep me, his "wife," while managing Chloe.
Five years of devotion, reduced to a reliable appliance, while my prematurely white hair screamed the truth of his deceit.
But a notification for my expedited transfer to Europe was my lifeline.
I ripped out my IV, walked out, and never looked back.
Two years later, a frantic Chloe called: Mark was gravely ill, delirious, calling only for me, for my comforting remedies.
He missed the services, not the woman.
I calmly hung up; my new life was finally my own. The Queen Bee's Fall
Modern The drone of Mr. Davies' voice, the familiar hum of my junior year English class, felt strangely distant. Once, my life was a clear path: top student, Yale-bound, my future set. My mother, Dr. Emily Miller, a respected psychometrician for the College Board, a source of pride.
But that perfect future shattered. Tiff Reynolds, the school' s queen bee, twisted my academic talents and my mother' s connection into a weapon. Jealous of my success, she spread a monstrous lie: I was the mastermind of a cheating ring, funneling actual test questions from my mom.
The investigation hit like a Category 5 hurricane. My Yale admission, rescinded. My mother, suspended, her brilliant career in ruins. And Dad… Dad, hounded by shame and stress, passed away. The weight of their blame, the utter desolation, crushed me. I tried to end it all, escaping into a cold abyss.
Why? Why did Tiff' s greed and lies destroy everything I loved, everything I was? The injustice was a searing, raw wound. There was no relief, no way out of that suffocating despair, only the consuming question of how my innocent actions could lead to such a catastrophic fall.
Then, the world snapped back. Heart hammering, I was sitting in class again, the date September 14th. It was real. A second chance. My hands clenched under the desk. This time, I wouldn' t just survive. This time, they would pay. His 'Practice' Bride, Her Real Wedding
Romance For five years, Ava Miller navigated a passionate, secret relationship with Ethan Hayes, her best friend's younger brother. High above the New York skyline, she lived in their bubble, cherishing his touch and believing his fervent promises that their hidden love would "soon" be revealed to the world. She devoted herself, feeling vibrant and truly loved.
One devastating night, her carefully constructed world shattered. Hiding just outside a half-open door, Ava overheard Ethan tell his closest friends she was nothing more than "great practice"—a mere "walking manual" for him to hone his boyfriend skills for his true, long-held obsession, Chloe Vance. Five years of her life, dismissed as a calculated "training program."
The revelation was a gut punch. Ethan, the man who pursued her so ardently, abandoned her at her sickest to fuss over Chloe’s minor scrape. He allowed Chloe to publicly gloat, calling Ava a "warm-up act" and "convenient." Every tender word, every intimate gesture, now felt like a meticulously rehearsed lie. The man she loved saw her as a disposable tool.
How could someone be so callous? Was her entire five-year relationship a horrifying, humiliating charade? The sheer audacity, the betrayal, left her reeling, disgraced and utterly heartbroken. What was she if not a placeholder, a learning experience for someone else?
Refusing to be a discarded practice doll any longer, Ava made a stark choice. She severed all ties, sold her life in New York, and fled to Charleston, determined to build a new, honest life—one where she was truly valued. But would her past, and Ethan’s eventual realization, allow her to move on untouched? You might like
The Villain's Popular Apocalyptic Bride
Xing Bao Julia was anchored to the freezing concrete floor, forced to watch the man beside her get his head blown off.
The mechanical system in her head announced she had transmigrated into the apocalyptic novel Wasteland Frenzy-right at the villain's execution phase.
A tall figure in an immaculate black suit stepped through the blood. Byron Serrano, the man the original host had tormented for years, grabbed her jaw with an ice-cold leather glove.
"My dear fiancée, now, it is your turn."
His henchman pulled out a rusted skinning knife, aiming the serrated edge directly at Julia's right eye.
The system blared a fatal crisis warning. She was going to be brutally tortured, skinned, and murdered to pay for the sadistic games of the body's previous owner. The agonizing phantom pain and the suffocating stench of rotting meat paralyzed her.
She screamed internally, cursing the chains and the unfairness of it all. Why did she have to die for a vicious persona she never chose?
Just as the blade touched her skin, the system triggered a time rewind.
Julia gasped, waking up in a luxurious bed exactly three months before the apocalypse outbreak.
The system immediately ordered her to take a bloody whip and punish the heavily injured Byron downstairs to maintain the plot.
Julia coldly refused.
Instead, she sold her fifty-million-dollar inheritance for five million in immediate cash, bought an underground doomsday bunker, and secretly bandaged the bleeding villain's wounds in the dead of night.
This time, she would survive her own way. Tundra Survival: While Others Freeze, I'm Building a Base
Qijia Lady When the global countdown hit zero, humanity was instantly teleported into a brutal, frozen wasteland.
The system's rule was absolute: keep your campfire burning, or be permanently erased from existence.
While others arrived in thin pajamas to freeze in the sub-zero wind, I had spent my final hours on Earth preparing, bringing a full survival pack and a cordless chainsaw.
By unlocking a hidden inventory system, I endured back-breaking labor to chop down ancient pines, hoarding over a hundred units of life-saving wood.
But when I offered to trade my surplus for coal and blueprints, the public chat completely turned on me.
"You selfish monster! You're hoarding resources while people are dying!"
They cursed me as a ruthless pariah, demanding I hand over my hard-earned fuel for free to save strangers who hadn't prepared at all.
I watched the survivor count plummet from a thousand to barely three hundred in just four days, listening to the agonizing screams echoing across the ice.
I couldn't understand why they felt entitled to the results of my blood and exhaustion, expecting my compassion to warm them while I froze.
With the inhuman howls from the dark forest growing louder, any lingering sympathy in me completely died.
I calmly blocked the public channel, tossed another piece of coal into my roaring fire, and opened my private messages to build my own fortress. The Wife They Buried: Now Watch Her Rise
Cun Li My experimental cure for a degenerative neurological disease had a bizarre requirement: "positive emotional resonance."
Love was a luxury my family never afforded me.
My twin Jessica, my parents David and Linda, and even my husband Mark, bled me dry, taking credit for my genius.
The Phoenix Foundation announced my therapy was failing: seven days until my death.
Still, they demanded more.
Parents needed me to fix Jessica's buggy app for a funding round.
Mark required elaborate legal strategies for his career.
My talent, always theirs.
My head throbbed, my body failing, but they saw only annoyance, demanding I work.
Jessica feigned illness, then brazenly demanded IP rights to my groundbreaking app.
Mark, dismissing my imminent death as "dramatics," framed me for Jessica' s hit-and-run, securing my forced committal-a painful death sentence.
He even injected me with a lethal dose.
My ultimate betrayal came when Jessica brutally attacked me with shears, and Mark, seeing my bleeding face, still prioritized her comfort.
Lying there, bleeding and abandoned, a cold clarity dawned: they would never change.
My life, a relentless sacrifice, was ending in torment.
Why did they always break me, only to demand more?
But then, a whisper from the Foundation: "Protocol transition."
"Karmic Retribution Resonance."
Not death, but a second chance.
Not for love, but for their regret.
I would become Anna Hayes, an architect of their downfall, finally taking back what was mine. When the Small Town King Met a Space Queen
Luo Chengfeng I used to think my biggest challenge was building life support systems for astronauts, but then I came home.
My quiet Ohio hometown, the one I' d escaped with an MIT scholarship and a secret burning desire for a bigger life, felt smaller than ever.
I was back for a high school reunion, reluctantly, to face Matthew Scott, the boy who' d relentlessly bullied me and now owned half the town.
He thought I was still "just Gabby," a wash-up struggling with a boring data entry job, a lie I carefully maintained to protect my parents and my classified work at NASA.
The reunion quickly devolved into the public humiliation I expected, with Matthew and his sycophants cornering me, pouring wine on me, and trying to extort money.
But then, he crossed a line far more dangerous than he could ever comprehend.
He snatching my phone, oblivious that it held top-secret national security data, and used it to call his corrupt sheriff buddy, thinking he had finally trapped me.
He thought he was calling in local backup to finish off his high school rival, but in reality, he had just triggered a security alert that would bring the full force of the federal government crashing down on his little kingdom.
He had no idea that in his arrogant attempt to destroy my life, he had just detonated his own, and mine was about to get a surprising new chapter. The Last Call: From Star to Scapegoat
Zhi Yao My life was a blueprint for success.
Ethan Miller, a rising star in architecture, about to claim the American Horizon Architectural Prize, surrounded by my loving sister Ashley, my beautiful fiancée Victoria, and even my adopted brother Jason.
But one call, one dark warehouse, shattered it all.
Ambushed, my hands crushed, my career obliterated, I woke to a nightmare.
My own sister and fiancée, the women I trusted most, confessed to orchestrating the brutal attack to clear the path for Jason’s success.
They abandoned me in an earthquake, then left me for dead on an exploding yacht, all while publicly slandering my name to cover their tracks.
The betrayal was a pain far deeper than any broken bone, a horrifying injustice that twisted my soul.
Why them? Why Jason? Why this absolute destruction of my life?
But just as despair threatened to consume me, a mysterious offer emerged: "reforging" through Phoenix BioGenesis.
I accepted, not for healing, but for a chilling rebirth, returning as a ghost of my former self, a silent observer ready to meticulously dismantle the lives of those who thought they had won.
This time, the masterpiece would be my revenge. Betrayal's Echo: A Wife's Revenge
Huang Xiaohuai Dr. Evelyn Reed had finally done it.
Three years of relentless work, the neural interface cure for her paralyzed husband, Ethan, was a success.
A triumphant smile touched her lips as she reached for her phone to share the life-changing news.
But an email caught her eye, a cheerful invitation that turned her world to ice.
"Dr. Ethan Vance and Miss Tiffany Reed request the pleasure of your company at the celebration of their marriage."
Ethan. Her husband. Tiffany. Her own niece.
It was a sick joke, a complete error, yet the high-end Parisian wedding agency confirmed its legitimacy.
Her joy evaporated, replaced by a cold dread as she drove through the night, a ghost to a celebration she was never meant to see.
She saw him there, standing, whole, laughing, with Tiffany tucked into his arm, radiant in white.
He kissed her, a tender kiss meant for the world to see, and Evelyn' s world tilted off its axis.
Then she heard them talking, overheard their cruel confessions: he had always loved Tiffany, while Evelyn was merely "a necessary step," "a convenient solution."
The man she had sacrificed everything for, the man who had promised his undying love, had been betraying her for two years with her own blood.
The pain of betrayal, the hollowness of her sacrifice, the absolute injustice of it all, left her hollowed out, empty of tears.
She watched him walk away from her in the hospital, choosing Tiffany, right after a fire, right after she found out a bomb, orchestrated by Tiffany, nearly killed her.
This wasn't a love triangle; it was a war, and she was losing.
Driven by a quiet, ice-cold resolve, Evelyn began to fight back. Stolen Code, Broken Heart, Fierce Comeback
Gu Mumu The flickering TV in my dingy motel room was the only light, illuminating the peeling wallpaper.
On screen, Ethan Vance, my ex-fiancé, smiled his perfect, camera-ready smile, touting 'EvolveAI' and his "future-defining" Prometheus algorithm.
Reporters swarmed him; he was the king of Silicon Valley, the brilliant mind behind the world' s most advanced AI.
My world. My code. My future. He had stolen it all. Everything.
I remembered the day he left, his eyes cold and empty, my three years of coding on a hard drive in his bag, a venomous "You were always just… holding me back."
He didn't just take the code; he took my savings, my reputation, blacklisting me from an industry I helped build, all while Bethany Cole, my best friend, stood arm-in-arm with him, eyes gleaming with triumph.
They left me with nothing but eviction notices, forcing me to sell everything I owned, living as a ghost under pseudonyms, cleaning up security flaws for companies that would never hire Scarlett Hayes.
The pain of that betrayal was a constant, suffocating darkness, a deep pit I couldn' t climb out of, trapped by unseen enemies and their whispers of my failure.
But watching him on that screen, basking in my stolen glory, a cold, sharp rage began to burn through the despair.
In that cheap motel, I swore a vow: I would get justice, I would take back what was mine, and he would not build his empire on my ruins.
My chance came weeks later: a vulnerability in his IPO network led me to a familiar digital signature-a back door I'd built into 'Prometheus,' a failsafe only I knew. He was arrogant, so certain he' d erased me he never looked for the ghost I' d left behind.
He was on the verge of becoming a billionaire. And I had the key to his kingdom.
A slow smile spread across my face. The game wasn't over. It had just begun. I wasn't going to be a victim. I was the storm he never saw coming. I would let him climb to the peak of his triumph. And then, I would burn it all to the ground. 
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