I was reborn on the very day my fake heiress sister swapped my daughter with hers.

In my past life, I quietly switched the babies back.

Later, I taught my daughter to manage the company, to be independent, molding her into a formidable businesswoman who dominated the corporate world.

Meanwhile, my sister spent her days teaching her own daughter to preen and posture, all to please men.

But on the day my sister’s daughter became the fiancée of the capital’s most eligible bachelor, my own daughter pushed me off the rooftop, screaming hysterically:

“You forced me to suffer so much growing up, and for what? I still couldn’t measure up to my cousin!”

“I hate you! How I wish Auntie had been my mother instead!”

When I opened my eyes again, I found myself back in time—right after my sister had stolen my baby.

This time, I closed my eyes and pretended not to know.

If that’s the mother you chose, then so be it.

1.

I was reborn on the day I gave birth.

A fine drizzle drifted outside the window.

The scent of antiseptic mixed with the metallic tang of blood lingered stubbornly in the delivery room.

In the bassinet beside me lay my newborn daughter, Si Tian.

Swaddled in a blue baby blanket, the tiny bundle hadn't even opened her eyes yet.

Her little face was flushed red, with sparse wisps of hair and delicate features all scrunched up.

To be honest, she wasn't particularly cute.

But in my past life, I had thought she was the most adorable thing in the world, willing to give her everything the universe had to offer.

I would have plucked the stars from the sky just to see her smile.

As time passed, she grew day by day.

Afraid I wouldn’t be a good enough mother, I often sought advice from other society matrons on parenting.

I taught her to distinguish right from wrong, to understand morality, and to take responsibility.

I nurtured her with piano, painting, literature, and art—cultivating grace and elegance.

I also schooled her in finance, management, and business operations, ensuring she could stand on her own.

Though I mapped out countless futures for her, I never wanted to chain her to my expectations, so I ultimately let her choose her own path.

I never forced her.

Never demanded she win piano competitions, paint masterpieces, or dance with perfect poise.

When Sitian developed a passion for math Olympiad, I hired a top-tier professor to mentor her.

She didn’t like playing the piano.

I decided to put the piano away and stopped forcing her to practice.

All things considered, I think I’m a pretty devoted mother—if not the best.

But my younger sister, Si Yingxue, who gave birth on the same day as me, was nothing like me.

After the baby swap was discovered, our parents disowned her, and even her husband left her. From then on, she took all her bitterness out on Si Ning.

She treated her daughter like a cash cow.

From a young age, she dressed Si Ning in revealing clothes and taught her to flirt with the camera during livestreams.

She made her five- or six-year-old daughter wear heavy makeup and dance provocatively to lure fans into tipping.

As Si Ning grew older, Si Yingxue forbade her from eating dinner.

Even for the other two meals, she was only allowed fruits and vegetables—all to maintain her figure.

While my daughter, Si Tian, happily devoured the meals I cooked for her, Si Ning would often watch with longing eyes.

But whenever I offered her food, she’d shake her head timidly and say, "Mom told me not to eat."

More than once, I caught Si Ning swallowing hard at the sight of delicious food in the dining room, her stomach growling with hunger.

It was heartbreaking.

In contrast, my Si Tian lived like a princess.

After losing financial support from the family, my sister pinned all her hopes on her daughter to turn their fortunes around.

She wanted to marry her daughter into a wealthy family so she could be taken care of in her old age.

All she ever studied were ways to please men.

She forced Sining to maintain a skinny figure, sway her hips when she walked, learn viral dance moves, and go live with suggestive content. Every gesture was calculated to be seductive.

Under my careful guidance, Sitian grew into an elegant and poised young woman.

The elite of Beijing’s high society praised her for her intelligence and capability, lining up to propose marriage alliances.

2.

Later, I introduced my daughter Sitian to Lu Han, a rising entrepreneur.

Lu Han was young, accomplished, and charismatic.

More importantly, the Lu family was one of scholars—his parents respected and cherished each other, growing old together in harmony. They upheld strict family values and placed great importance on marriage.

I hoped she would find a partner who truly loved her, so she wouldn’t have to worry about matters of the heart.

But Sitian remained silent, dragging her feet for half a month.

Then, unexpectedly, Sining—who had been forced by her sister to perform at a banquet—caught the eye of Huo Chen, becoming the fiancée of Beijing’s most eligible bachelor.

The usually composed Sitian suddenly snapped. While I was admiring the view in the rooftop garden, she pushed me off the edge.

As I clung desperately to the railing, begging her to pull me up, she glared at me with red-rimmed eyes and poured out all her pent-up resentment.

"Everyone in the industry knows Lu Han is a workaholic, cold and heartless. You're just trying to drag me down the same miserable path as yours."

I never realized that's how she saw it.

She mistook my well-intentioned guidance for torment, my earnest teachings for cruelty.

The terror of free-falling choked me, every inch of my body screaming in agony as if I were being torn apart.

Si Tian was still shrieking curses hysterically.

But it was Si Ning, who arrived just in time, who noticed something was wrong and immediately called the police and an ambulance.

"Auntie, hang in there!"

Her panicked face was the last thing I saw before my vision blurred and darkness swallowed me whole.

I passed out, slipping into unconsciousness.

Much later, someone crept into the room on tiptoe.

I kept my eyes shut, Si Tian’s furious screams still echoing in my ears like a knife twisting in my heart.

Feigning ignorance, I turned my face slightly, silent and still.

The intruder’s nervous, ragged breaths filled the air as they hesitated before finally swapping the infants.

The footsteps retreated, fading down the hallway until silence swallowed them whole.

I lay motionless, tears streaming soundlessly down my cheeks.

Since you're so determined to have that mother in this lifetime, so be it.

That evening, just as the nanny finished bathing the baby, my sister walked into my hospital room.

She was holding the daughter she had swapped for mine earlier that day, her eyes darting nervously. I barely glanced at the bundle in her arms before turning away. But my sister couldn’t tear her gaze from the baby in the nanny’s arms, staring for a long, unsettling moment. Only when she noticed me watching did she finally rub her hands together and sit back down, her eyes shifting restlessly as she forced out some meaningless small talk.

The nanny frowned. "It's so late—why bring the baby out in the cold?"

It was obvious—she couldn’t resist checking on her own flesh and blood.

My sister waved a dismissive hand. "A little cold air won’t kill her. She’s just a worthless girl, after all!"

"Not like your precious Sining, born a little princess who can’t handle the slightest hardship. My worthless brat ought to suffer a bit."

Even though I had already made up my mind to let her keep the swapped child, hearing her call my own flesh and blood "worthless" sent a sharp pang through my chest. My eyes burned with unshed tears.

I dug my nails deep into my palms, forcing myself to let go of everything.

From this moment on, Si Tian and I would be strangers.

Night had fallen when my sister finally left the room. The nanny rolled her eyes at her retreating figure before cradling Si Ning and bringing her to my bedside.

"Madam, the young miss is so well-behaved—not a single cry or fuss. But this birthmark on her ankle... it looks different from before, doesn’t it?"

She joked lightly, "You don’t think someone swapped our little miss, do you?"

A careless remark to the speaker, but a dagger to the listener.

My sister, already at the doorway, froze mid-step at those words. Her body tensed, one foot still hovering over the threshold.

I stayed silent, watching her tremble ever so slightly.

Only after a long pause, when she seemed on the verge of collapsing, did I finally smile and say, "You must be mistaken. This is my daughter."

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw my sister exhale in relief. She staggered slightly, steadied herself, and then hurried away.

The nanny, who had only meant to lift my spirits, relaxed when she saw me smile.

"Of course. The young miss has your gentle nature, after all."

But the Si Ning before me was nothing like the Si Tian I remembered.

She rarely cried or threw tantrums, always keeping her big eyes wide open to observe everything around her.

Having been given a second chance at life, I decided not to waste my energy on this adopted daughter. Instead, I focused on my own life—reading, studying, crafting, practicing yoga, managing the company, and developing new projects. I even dug out the literary classics I had loved during my college years.

As Si Ning grew day by day, I no longer felt like I was squandering my time, as I had in my past life. On the contrary, I was full of vitality.

She truly was an easy child to raise.

Though I wasn’t her biological mother, I never mistreated her. I simply followed the same approach I had used with Si Tian in my previous life—piano, dance, writing, painting, business management, and even boxing for self-defense.

I had intended to see where her strengths lay, but to my surprise, she excelled in everything.

Her business mentor had exceptionally high standards, expecting her to be the best in every field. Her boxing coach, a former martial arts champion, was extremely strict, often pushing her until she was drenched in sweat.

So I told her, "If it’s too exhausting or difficult, you don’t have to learn any of this."

In my past life, Si Tian had also complained—boxing was too grueling, piano hurt her hands, and business management was exhausting.

4.

I agreed to her request—if she didn’t like it, she didn’t have to learn it.

I never wanted to raise some kind of all-round prodigy.

All I hoped for was that she’d pursue her own passions, understand right from wrong, and grow up with a kind heart.

But to my surprise, Sinin clenched her fists, her eyes brimming with stubborn tears that refused to fall.

With quiet determination, she said, "Mom, I can do it."

Her resolve far surpassed Sitian’s.

In our past life, rain or shine, she had practiced dancing alone on the rooftop, repeating every move until it was perfect.

When my sister resented her for studying, she’d hide in the stairwell, poring over her books in silence.

It broke my heart, so I made sure to leave a few textbooks there for her.

Every time we crossed paths, she’d flash me a grateful smile.

Now, in this life, even with a different mother, that same resilience burned within her.

When word of this reached my sister, she was beside herself with concern.

"Big sister," she said carefully, "are you trying to mold Sinin into some kind of elite scholar? Why put her through all this hardship?"

I answered coolly, "No pain, no gain."

Her face twisted with pity.

At that moment, Sitian stepped forward with an ingratiating smile. "Mom," she said sweetly, "I just learned a viral dance. Want me to show you?"

Without warning, my sister lashed out, striking Sitian across the face so hard that blood gushed from her nose, sending her sprawling to the ground.

"You worthless brat!" my sister sneered, her lips curling in a cruel smirk. "Who gave you the right to speak? How dare you compare your trashy little tricks to your cousin’s talent?"

As she delivered the blow, her eyes flickered toward me, cold and calculating.

She probably thought she was the only one who knew the truth—that the girls had been switched at birth.

All these years, my sister had taken pleasure in tormenting Sitian right in front of me, relishing every moment.

Whenever I tried to intervene, she only grew more vicious.

She believed that by torturing my real daughter, she was setting me up for unbearable agony once the truth came out.

Sitian lay on the floor, trembling, unable to get up. She clutched her face, sobbing quietly.

Unable to stand it any longer, Sining reached out to help her.

But Sitian shoved her away, her voice trembling with rage. "Stop pretending to be kind! You just want to look good in front of Grandpa. You’re just as fake as your mother!"

I couldn’t help but laugh bitterly.

No matter in this life or the last, she remained blind—unable to see the truth right in front of her.

My sister was merciless.

The cruelty she inflicted on Sitian was even worse than what she had done to Sining in our past life.

Sitian was reliving the tragic fate of Sining's previous life—covered in scars as a child, then suffering hunger and cold as she grew older.

Among her peers, she stood a full head shorter than Sining, her body as gaunt as a bamboo stalk. The once-curvaceous figure had withered into flatness, devoid of any feminine charm.

After the college entrance exams, Sitian only managed to enroll in a vocational college. Her younger sister forced her to practice suggestive dances daily, posing provocatively in livestreams, swaying her hips and striking suggestive poses. The slightest dissatisfaction would earn her kicks and punches.

The leather belt lashed against the inside of her thighs—no visible marks, but the pain cut deep.

Yet despite it all, Sitian still strutted around campus in heavy makeup, hips swaying with every step, pretending to live a life of bliss.

Meanwhile, Sining's life had improved dramatically.

This time around, I focused on growing the company, multiplying our assets several times over. Whatever subjects she took an interest in, I hired the finest tutors to teach her. Sining threw herself into every discipline with passion, making astonishing progress.

The only thing she showed no enthusiasm for was dance.

This surprised me—because in her past life, her mesmerizing moves had already taken the internet by storm.

I thought she genuinely loved dancing.

Si Ning explained earnestly,

"Dancing might catch people's eyes, but I want to make my mark with real skills."

"Beauty fades, and praise blows away with the wind—only ability lasts forever."

Her mindset aligned perfectly with mine.

5.

But Si Tian didn’t see it that way.

Now, though she was nothing but skin and bones, she took pride in mastering viral dance moves.

Whatever concoction her sister had given her had made her voice unnaturally sultry, adding to her bewitching allure.

She was better at currying favor than her sister, spending her days studying suggestive livestreams and sultry dances, fawning over the rich second-generation crowd, flaunting her seductive moves to harvest endless compliments.

She often bragged to Si Ning about how her livestreams went viral or how many gifts she’d received.

Little did she know those people saw her as nothing more than a plaything, their gazes dripping with disdain.

Once, she collapsed from hunger.

Unable to bear it, Si Ning used the excuse of giving her a diamond necklace as a birthday gift to help her out.

But Si Tian flew into a rage, screaming—

"You're just jealous of my perfect figure, mesmerizing dance moves, and countless fans, so you're trying to bribe me with this tacky jewelry."

"Who cares if your mom's a CEO? I make just as much money as you!"

She tossed her head haughtily, her face dripping with arrogance.

Though Si Ning had a gentle temperament, she wasn't one to be pushed around. She fired back instantly, "I only offered to help because you looked like you were starving. If I'd known you'd be this ungrateful, I'd have given it to Big Orange instead."

Big Orange was the stray ginger cat Si Ning had adopted near the school gate.

The sisters had a blazing row that day, and from then on, they were sworn enemies.

When their younger sister found out about the fight, she gave Si Tian another harsh scolding.

6.

The younger sister even came to apologize, her eyes brimming with concern as she looked at Si Ning. "That silly girl doesn’t know any better—she offended you, Miss. Please don’t take it to heart."

Si Ning glanced up at me, puzzled. "Mom, why is Auntie so awful to Si Tian? She’s her own daughter, isn’t she?"