Jiuye Fenglin
12 Published Stories
Jiuye Fenglin's Books and Stories
Heartbreak, Betrayal, and Billion-Dollar Revenge
Romance After two years of brutal IVF treatments, I finally held a positive pregnancy test in my hand. I was the brains behind our billion-dollar tech company, and this baby was meant to be my greatest joint venture with my husband, Harden.
Then an anonymous text arrived. It was a video of Harden kissing an Instagram model, his hand high on her thigh. A second text followed: a bank statement showing he'd stolen millions from our company to pay for her.
I decided to go to the company gala and use my pregnancy to save us. But his mistress, Celine, showed up first, also claiming to be pregnant.
In front of everyone, my mother-in-law embraced her, calling her the true mother of the next heir. She gave Celine the family necklace she had refused to let me wear on my own wedding day.
Later, Celine shoved me. I fell, and a searing pain shot through my abdomen. I was bleeding on the ground, losing our miracle baby. I begged Harden for help.
He glanced at me, annoyed. "Stop being so dramatic," he said, before turning his back to comfort his mistress.
But as my world went dark, another man ran to my side. My biggest rival, Atticus Rios. He was the one who scooped me into his arms and raced me to the hospital.
When I woke up, the baby gone and my world in ashes, he was still there. He looked at me and made an offer. An alliance. A chance to take everything from the men who wronged us and burn their empires to the ground. Reborn Mother: The Billionaire's Ruthless Bride
Billionaires In my past life, I was the naive surrogate who fell desperately in love with Karson King, an untouchable Wall Street billionaire.
I thought my blind devotion would earn me a place in his family. Instead, his cruel mother forced me to sign away my parental rights to my three-year-old daughter.
I was locked in a dark, freezing basement. I watched helplessly as his arrogant relatives tormented my child, pushing her down a flight of marble stairs and shattering her tiny arm.
When we finally died in a horrific car crash, my face covered in blood amidst the shattered glass, Karson didn't shed a single tear. To him, my death was just the convenient erasure of a cheap mistake.
I sacrificed my dignity for his approval, but they treated us worse than stray dogs. Why did my innocent daughter have to pay the ultimate price for their ruthless arrogance?
Opening my eyes again, the harsh glare of a massive crystal chandelier pierced my vision. I was back in the grand foyer of the King estate, exactly five years ago.
"Sign it. You are nothing but a gold digger."
My soon-to-be mother-in-law slammed the thick legal contract onto the marble table, demanding I give up my daughter.
This time, the paralyzing fear evaporated, replaced by absolute, icy clarity.
I didn't cower. I picked up the pen, looked right at the billionaire who despised me, and prepared to manipulate his entire empire. Fired By The Father Of My Child
Romance Six years ago, Breanna was shoved into a pitch-black hotel suite by her own uncle.
She was forced to endure a brutal night with a drugged stranger just to keep her grandmother's ventilator running.
Nine months later, she gave birth in a cold underground clinic.
But her uncle immediately snatched the crying newborn from her trembling hands, coldly announcing the baby had died.
For six years, Breanna lived in agonizing grief, working as a lowly hotel cleaner just to survive.
But a cruel setup threw her directly into the path of Elliot Finch, the arrogant billionaire from that dark night.
He did not recognize the woman whose life he had completely ruined.
Instead, he looked at her like she was rotting garbage, had his guards drag her into a wet alley, and mercilessly got her fired.
"If I ever see your face again, I will make sure you cannot get a job cleaning toilets."
Breanna was suffocating from the injustice, stripped of her dignity and her family's only lifeline.
Yet, when she instinctively protected a traumatized little boy from bullies, she discovered he was Elliot's son.
The boy clung to her neck, crying and desperately begging his father to let her stay.
But Elliot just threw a massive check at her chest, violently accusing her of brainwashing a sick child for a meal ticket.
Looking at the toxic disgust in his eyes, something inside Breanna finally broke.
She picked up the check, ripped the millions into tiny shreds, and let them rain down on his expensive shoes.
"Keep your dirty money."
She turned her back on the crying boy and the stunned billionaire, deciding she would no longer be their victim. A Billionaire Heiress From The Ashes
Modern My husband, Deegan, plunged a needle into my heavily pregnant belly. He said it was a mild sedative to "slow things down." The truth was a brutal betrayal.
His brother's widow, Karmen, was also due, and her son had to be born first to secure the family inheritance. He was sacrificing our child for money.
He locked me in a panic room, leaving me to suffer through agonizing contractions alone.
His sister found me, not to help, but to kick me and let her venomous snake sink its fangs into my arm.
As I lay bleeding out, my baby dying inside me, he had all the life-saving medical equipment moved to Karmen's private clinic, leaving me with nothing.
He called me a manipulative actress, a gold-digger trying to steal the inheritance. The man who swore to protect me left me to die on a cold floor, choosing a birthright over his own child.
But I didn't die. My billionaire father saved me, and I was reborn from the ashes of my grief. Years later, when Deegan stormed into my boardroom, convinced he could drag his "dead" wife home, I looked at the pathetic man he'd become. I slowly pulled the wedding ring from my finger and let it fall to the floor.
"The woman who loved you died that night." My Sister's Betrayal, My New Life
Modern I thought my partner Brayden and I were building an empire together. He was my rock, my partner in life and business, the man who understood my ambition to save my family's restaurant.
But one night, I woke up to his laughter mixed with another, sickeningly familiar voice-my little sister, Holly. They weren't just having an affair.
I listened from the shadows as they plotted to steal my restaurant, my recipes, and my entire life's work.
They mocked my dreams of starting a family, dreams Brayden had always dismissed with me. Holly was pregnant with his child, and they planned to rebrand my legacy as their own, leaving me with nothing.
The two people I trusted most weren't just stealing my future; they were erasing my past. They saw me as a fool, too blinded by loyalty to see their betrayal.
They were right about one thing: the Clare they knew was about to disappear. But not in the way they expected. I made a call to a controversial neuroscientist, ready to undergo an experimental procedure to erase my memory, change my identity, and orchestrate their complete and utter ruin. Revenge Is Sweet When Love Dies
Romance I gave up a life in London for my high school sweetheart, Blake Shaw. He repaid me by leaving me to be trampled by a panicked crowd while he saved another girl. That was just the beginning.
His obsession with being a hero to the fragile transfer student, Kris Gray, became a slow poison. He abandoned me during dates, gave me food I was deathly allergic to, and ignored my screams for help when I was assaulted. Each time he chose her, it was another cut, until I was raw and bleeding.
The end came when he believed her most vicious lie.
He looked at me with cold certainty as he called the police, framing me for a crime I didn't commit.
I watched from the back of the cop car as he held her, the hero protecting his damsel from the monster he had made me into. My love didn't just break that day; it turned to dust.
My family wiped the charges and put me on the next jet to London. I never looked back.
Until now. Five years later, I'm back, and Blake is about to learn that some choices come with consequences you can never outrun. The Wife Who Buried Our Child
Romance The rain fell on my daughter Lily' s tiny coffin. She was only six. I looked for my wife, Sarah, but she wasn' t there; everyone said she was overcome with grief.
But when I returned home, I heard her voice from the patio. She was smiling, talking to her ex-boyfriend Mark, purring, "It's done now. She's gone. Her birth was an accident anyway. A mistake that tied me down for six years." Then, she uttered the words that shattered my world forever: "The trip to Switzerland wasn't for some new miracle treatment... It was for euthanasia. It was quicker that way. Cleaner."
Just hours after burying our child, Sarah and Mark were laughing in my living room, celebrating her death as "a special occasion." The house, once a home, now felt like a tomb of lies. My daughter' s room was eerily empty, every trace of her existence erased, as if she had never lived.
I was living in a nightmare. My wife, the mother of my child, betrayed and murdered our daughter, then tried to erase her memory from our home. The woman I loved was a monster, celebrating her freedom from a child she called a "burden."
A cold resolve filled me. I packed Lily' s few remaining treasures, left Sarah and her lover, and drove to our secret clubhouse. I wouldn't let her erase Lily. This wasn't over. My fight for justice for my daughter, for her legacy, had just begun. Erased, Not Forgotten
Fantasy I died in Montana, exiled to a sanatorium by my husband, the President, who called me "unstable" because a broken heart dared to challenge his polished image.
One moment I was staring at a cracked ceiling, the next I was a ghost, bound to my husband, Julian, watching him sign documents in the Oval Office, oblivious to my spectral presence.
He had no idea I was dead, no idea I was trapped, a silent witness to his new life with Savannah Reed, his predatory mistress, who now occupied my White House, my roles, and even my family's legacy.
My very existence was being systematically erased – my name scorned, my achievements dismissed, and soon, even my beloved son Leo's resting place was threatened by their callous ambition.
How could the man I built, the man I loved, betray me so completely, framing me for a scandal I never committed, mocking my grief, and now plotting to defile our son's memory?
But even in death, a truth demands to be heard, and soon, the empire Julian built on lies began to crumble, promising a reckoning that would either free my soul or drag him into the abyss he created. Pampered by the Ruthless Boss: A Deceptive Sweetness
Mafia My last memory was the smell of ancient celluloid in a 21st-century archive, then a sharp chest pain. I woke up to the stench of gin and stale perfume, trapped in a stranger's body, in 1920s Chicago. My own mother, a faded vaudeville dancer, sold me to a notorious gang boss, Artie Gallo, for a sapphire cloche hat.
I found a flicker of connection with Leo, the kind projectionist, and risked everything to steal medicine for the starving poor. But when Artie discovered our secret, Leo, the only person I' d dared to trust, pointed a trembling finger at me. "She made me do it." The betrayal was a physical blow, worse than the whip that lashed my back in Artie's cursed cellar.
They threw me back in my room, broken and left to fester. The film, my last connection to my old life, gone with him. My body healed, but my soul was twisted into something cold and hard. How could he? How could the one pure thing I found in this nightmare turn out to be the cruelest blade?
When I finally emerged, adorned in garish makeup and a deceptively sweet smile, the old Clara was gone. I would become the woman Artie wanted, the woman this brutal world demanded. And I would make sure everyone who ever wronged me paid the price, even if it meant burying every last piece of my humanity. Their Betrayal, Her Billions
Sci-fi My world was a bland digital prison, my consciousness shunted into OmniVerse after their "Full Dive VR Consciousness Upload" experiment went belly-up, leaving me stuck in a hideous default avatar.
I streamed as SeraphSix, a voice of calm in the chaos, but I was constantly battling the insidious rumors calling me a "catfish" and a fraud.
Rival streamer JessiByte, more cleavage than content, fanned those flames, and "KevlarKing," my biggest tipper, arrogantly challenged me to turn on my face cam for a pathetic five hundred dollars, clearly wanting to impress her and humiliate me.
He'd even stooped to leaking a blurry, out-of-context screenshot of my plain default avatar, trying to make me look bad.
The constant accusations, fueled by their jealousy and entitlement, were draining.
Living as merely a voice behind a mask, fighting off attacks from those who sought to expose me as a "fraud" because my forced avatar didn't match the allure they imagined from my voice and intellect, felt like a constant insult to my true self.
My real life had been about beauty and presence; this default skin was a torment, and the whole situation entirely unfair, festering with cold anger.
Why was I stuck fighting in this superficial world that judged only surface, while my intellectual contributions were dismissed? Why did they so desperately want to expose a "plainness" that wasn't even mine?
Just as I prepared to end another exhausting stream, a private notification from the System flashed: "Host compensation protocol initiated. Restitution package available. Replicate original biometric signature onto current avatar?"
My breath caught.
My real face. The one I thought I' d lost forever.
The game was about to change. You might like
Jilted Wife Returns As A Billionaire Heiress
Paula Gardini Chloe had just given birth to twins, lying exhausted in a cramped, bustling hospital ward.
When she called her husband, Julian, he was busy partying with his actress mistress. He coldly hung up on her, having already drafted a brutal divorce agreement that would leave her with a pittance.
Strangers in the next bed loudly mocked her pitiful state, gossiping about how Julian was dumping her. For years, Chloe had erased her own identity to fit into his elite world, only to be thrown away like garbage. She was completely alone, clutching her helpless babies, bracing herself to sign the cruel papers just to survive.
She couldn't understand why her absolute devotion was met with such chilling indifference. Why did she have to suffer this ultimate humiliation while he celebrated with the woman who ruined her life?
But then, a senior doctor noticed a unique mole on her wrist and ran a secret DNA test. The results were staggering: Chloe was the long-lost daughter of the billionaire Beaumont family. With her fiercely protective parents and three powerful brothers suddenly forming an impenetrable fortress around her, Chloe picked up her phone and texted her arrogant husband.
"City Hall tomorrow at 10 AM. If you don't show up, my lawyer will handle everything. And trust me, you won't like their terms." The Runaway Wife: Hiding His Secret Triplets
Hen Bu Five years ago, I stood in the freezing rain at my mother's funeral, waiting for my husband.
Blake Knight, the billionaire NHL superstar, was two hours late. When he finally showed up, he brought his rumored girlfriend, the woman he had just rented a hotel rooftop for to celebrate her birthday.
Watching him defend her fake tears, my heart completely died. I took off my diamond wedding ring, placed it on my mother's headstone, and walked away from my marriage forever.
I fled to London, changed my name to Ava, and secretly raised the triplets he never knew existed. I thought I was finally safe from him.
But today, my kids vandalized a silver Aston Martin in our apartment's parking garage, and the owner caught my youngest daughter.
My phone rang. The voice on the other end was Blake's.
He had moved into my building, and he was holding my little girl in his penthouse, demanding her mother come get her immediately.
Panic suffocated me. If I walked through that door, my five years of hiding would be instantly destroyed. He would recognize me, realize I didn't get rid of our child like everyone thought, and he would use all his power to take my babies away.
I couldn't let him ruin my life again.
"I'm just her nanny," I lied through my teeth.
I frantically begged my best friend to go upstairs and rescue my daughter in my place. He bought the disguise, but now, the King of the Ice is dangerously obsessed with investigating my new identity. His Tamed Wife, The Wild Heiress
Whisper 119 She married him out of desperation, becoming the perfect docile wife while he treated her like dirt beneath his shoes. But everything shattered the night she overheard him mocking her with his friends-and discovered the necklace she'd cherished, her only link to the boy who once saved her life, didn't even belong to him.
It was all a lie.
No longer the doormat he married, she discards her fake identity and reclaims her birthright as the hidden heiress of Salvadore City. Now she's on a mission: find the necklace's true owner among his circle of friends, no matter how many hearts she has to break along the way.
But her husband isn't ready to let go. Convinced she's playing games to make him jealous, he's blindsided when divorce papers land in his hands. By the time he realizes the woman he dismissed was never who he thought she was, she's already moved on-living her truth, chasing her destiny, and leaving him choking on regret.
Some cages, once opened, can never be closed again. The Silent Heiress's Million Dollar Gambit
Maui My stepmother’s bodyguards were seconds away from dragging me back to a life that was essentially a prison cell wrapped in silk. I couldn't even scream for help because the words always died in my throat—a clinical condition called selective mutism that felt like drowning on dry land.
I had just discovered the sickening truth: my father was planning to sell me to a sleazy investor named Sterling to cover his company’s bankruptcy. They were going to drug me, ship me off to a private island, and strip away the only thing I had left—my late mother’s multimillion-dollar art trust.
When I arrived at the manor, my stepmother Lydia handed me a glass of wine laced with bitter sedatives, her smile sharp as a razor.
"Drink up, darling. It’ll make the transition to Mr. Sterling much easier."
My stepsister Harper stood in the corner, wearing a dress bought with my mother’s stolen money, mocking my inability to speak. My father didn't even look me in the eye as he calculated my price tag, treating his own daughter like a piece of damaged, mute inventory.
They thought because I didn't speak, I didn't hear them laughing about the "accident" that killed my mother or how they planned to burn her final restoration work. They assumed my silence was a sign of surrender, a white flag waved by a broken girl who would never fight back.
How could the people who were supposed to be my family treat me like a commodity to be traded? Did they really think my silence meant I was weak, or that I didn't know every dirty secret they were hiding in their ledgers?
I didn't drink the wine. Instead, I burst into the VIP suite of Carlisle Pierce, the most cold-blooded billionaire in New York, and slammed a crumpled napkin on his table with a desperate, last-second gambit.
"MARRY ME. NOW. $1 MILLION." The Neglected Wife's Vicious Comeback Game
Xiu Luo On our third anniversary, my husband canceled our dinner, claiming a sudden work emergency.
I tracked his phone to an exclusive French restaurant, only to find him tenderly fastening a blessed bracelet—one I had flown across the world to get for him—onto his college ex-girlfriend's wrist.
The sheer shock triggered a violent placental abruption. Bleeding out in my car just across the street, I frantically called his number. Through the window, I watched him glance at his screen, frown in annoyance, and press decline to focus on his lover. While I was wheeled into a freezing operating room for an emergency C-section utterly alone, he took his mistress back to our marital bed.
He didn't even bother to check if I was alive, completely oblivious that our premature daughter was fighting for her life in the NICU. I soon discovered our entire marriage was a sham. He had used my family's wealth to save his company, and now he was trading me to secure a massive business deal with his ex's father. The man I loved didn't exist; he only saw me as a disposable asset.
"I'm going to make him wish he had never been born."
After secretly securing my baby in a private retreat, I ordered a medical-grade silicone pregnancy belly to hide my flat stomach. I stepped back into our penthouse, ready to burn his precious empire to the ground. Fake Dating the Secret Billionaire Hockey Star
Fallen Nimbus My sister-in-law didn't want me to marry for love.
She wanted me to marry rich-so she could turn my husband into her personal ATM.
So I did the one thing guaranteed to ruin all her plans.
I got myself a broke hockey player.
At least, that's what everyone was supposed to believe.
Beckett Hayes needed a girlfriend badly. The Chicago hockey star had a reputation problem, angry sponsors, and too many headlines painting him as arrogant, reckless, and impossible to settle down. I needed a man convincing enough to stop my family from arranging my future for me.
Our solution was simple: fake date.
His rules were even simpler. Live in his shabby apartment. Help sell the struggling-player act. Smile for the cameras. No real feelings.
Easy.
Until my family showed up to mock the "loser" I'd chosen-and Beckett stepped between us like they had insulted something that belonged to him.
Until he put a no-limit black card in my hand and told me to stop sacrificing my dream of becoming an artist just because I was afraid to spend money.
Until our fake dinners started feeling domestic, his hand started finding mine under the table, and I began forgetting that every protective look and possessive touch was supposed to be part of the contract.
Then Beckett's grandfather arrived at our tiny apartment wearing cashmere, flanked by bodyguards, carrying a priceless Hayes family heirloom for me.
Apparently, pretending to be broke was the easy part.
Pretending I wasn't falling for my fake boyfriend was becoming impossible.
Especially when his grandfather took our only bedroom and left Beckett and me with one pullout sofa, one night, and absolutely nowhere left to hide. While I Was Bleeding Out, He Lit Lanterns For Her
Katie Oettgen As I lay on the floor of our manor, bleeding out from a ruptured ectopic pregnancy, I used my last ounce of strength to call my husband, Cole.
I begged him for help, my vision blurring.
But the only thing I heard was the clinking of champagne glasses and his mistress's giggle in the background.
"Stop the drama, June," Cole snapped, his voice cold. "We're about to go on stage. Don't call again."
He hung up, leaving me to die alone on the Persian rug while he accepted an award with another woman on his arm.
I woke up in the hospital days later. My baby was gone. They had removed my fallopian tube.
Cole finally arrived, smelling of expensive scotch and his mistress's perfume. He didn't hug me. He didn't cry.
Instead, he leaned over my hospital bed, pressing his knee into the mattress until my fresh stitches tore open and bled.
"You embarrassed me by calling an ambulance," he hissed. "My mistress, Alycia, says you're faking it. Clean yourself up."
He left me bleeding again to go announce a $10 million donation to Alycia's "groundbreaking" medical research.
I stared at the TV screen, numb. The research Alycia was taking credit for? It was mine. I wrote that patent years ago under a pseudonym.
They thought I was just a poor, orphan housewife who needed Cole's money to survive.
They had no idea I was actually a billionaire scientist hiding my identity.
I pulled the IV needle out of my arm. A drop of blood fell onto the divorce papers I had been hiding.
I didn't wipe it off. I signed my name right over it.
Then I walked into the bank, reactivated my dormant account with $128 million, and bought the penthouse directly overlooking Cole's house.
The mourning widow is dead. The avenger is born. Shielded By The Ruthless Military Boss
Mo Yufei I was an intern nurse working exhausting shifts, yet my mother constantly forced me into blind dates with wealthy, arrogant men to secure our family's social standing.
During a terrifying hospital lockdown, an assassin disguised as a doctor held a scalpel to my throat. I was almost killed, but a high-ranking military colonel threw his own body down a flight of concrete stairs to shield me.
I survived with cuts and bruises, but when I went home, my mother didn't care about my near-death experience. She was only furious that I had rushed out on my blind date with Preston, a rich financial analyst.
She forced me to meet him to apologize. When Preston grabbed my arm, bruised me, and mocked my attack as a pathetic lie, my mother still took his side.
"Men get angry," she told me coldly. "It's your job not to provoke them. You will beg for his forgiveness, or you are no longer welcome in this house."
I had narrowly escaped an assassin, yet my own family was willing to feed me to a monster just for a fat paycheck and neighborhood gossip.
My heart went completely dead.
So, when the intimidating Colonel appeared, offering me maximum military protection through a sudden marriage, I didn't hesitate.
I walked back into my parents' house and calmly slapped a crisp marriage certificate onto the coffee table.
"I won't be apologizing to Preston. I got married today." The Ice Captain's Stolen Fiancée
Jasper Wren I was carefully folding a new silk nightgown, ready to fly to New York and surprise my fiancé of several years, Donald.
Then my phone pinged with a photo from my stepsister, Cindy. It was a high-resolution image of her and Donald, tangled together naked on messy bedsheets.
On his arm was the one-of-a-kind silver bracelet I had custom-designed for his birthday last month.
Cindy was staring right at the camera with a triumphant, provocative smile.
A second message popped up: "Omg, sis, so sorry! Sent that by accident!"
It was a blatant, mocking slap in the face.
Later, I even intercepted a call where Donald laughed with his mother about how my declining family was just a worthless stepping stone for them.
He called me a "boring, good girl" who was easy to manage, bragging that he would just go back to having his fun with Cindy right after our wedding.
They really thought I was just a naive fool who would either come crying to him or quietly swallow this humiliating betrayal.
They thought my silence meant I was weak and defeated.
But I didn't shed a single tear, nor did I scream.
A cold, sharp anger shot up my spine, extinguishing every last ember of heartbreak.
I threw the silk nightgown into the trash, opened my laptop, and used my MIT computer science background to hack straight into their luxury hotel suite's smart system.
I wasn't going to New York to cry.
I was going to broadcast their filthy affair to the entire city at the most prestigious charity gala of the year. Betrayed Heiress: Marrying The Hockey King
Gu Chen I gave up my college dreams and spent every penny I had to support my boyfriend Boyce's NHL ambitions.
But as I lay dying in a damp hospital room, I called him begging for treatment money, only to hear his new girlfriend laughing on the line.
Boyce coldly called me a useless "Puck Bunny" and a convenient ATM before hanging up.
Moments later, his new girl Beryl called back to deliver a truth that shattered my reality.
"Do you know how you got sick? It wasn't an accident."
Boyce had deliberately arranged for me to be infected with HIV.
He thought I was too clingy, and this was the easiest way to get rid of me so he could chase his hockey dreams without baggage.
Just before I took my last breath, a man arrived to save me, sent by Case Hoover-a wealthy fiancé from an old family arrangement I had completely forgotten.
The irony was crushing. I had destroyed my life serving a monster who murdered me, while my actual fiancé tried to protect me.
I died in excruciating agony, my soul held together by nothing but pure, bottomless hatred.
Why was I so blind? Why did I give everything to a man with a heart blacker than a starless night?
Opening my eyes, I gasped for air, finding myself staring at my healthy, eighteen-year-old reflection in the mirror.
I was reborn in my senior year of high school.
This time, I wouldn't be his stepping stone; I was going to make him pay the ultimate price. 
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