I moved out.

Living alone felt great and really lifted my spirits.

But the peace didn't last long before my mom called.

"How are you doing? Still at that crappy job of yours?

"Come home right now. My chest hurts. Are you going to help or not?"

Her demanding tone came through the phone, with occasional groans of pain.

In my past life, even though my mom disliked me, she always called me first when something happened.

She felt bad for my brother working hard outside and didn't want to spend his and Kristine's money. So, she turned to me.

I spent a lot of money on her.

But now, I didn't want to be the fool anymore.

I slowly put down the documents in my hand and poured myself a glass of water. I smiled at the phone.

"Mom, that's the price of beauty. Kristine said you just need to bear it a bit longer.

"If you go to the hospital without telling her, what will she think?"

"Just massage it a little. It might be like a second puberty."

I pretended to comfort her. Hearing me mention Kristine, she quieted down.

Her voice became weak.

"Well... I'll try massaging it myself."

I heard her painful moans before she hung up, and I smiled as I sipped my water.

That was right. Just endure it a bit.

The program my mom and Kristine had was said to be a patented breast enhancement technology. In my past life, I researched it and found it unreliable, so I tried to stop them.

My good intentions were taken as meddling, and I lost my life for it.

This time, without my interference, they succeeded in their program. Who knew what would happen?

I glanced at my phone and looked away.

Massage might work.

But...

Seeing the wet patch on my mom's shirt made my eyes widen.

She screamed in fright. "Oh my God, what's happening?"

Kristine came out of the bedroom, rubbing her eyes. Seeing my mom's condition, she panicked too. After a few seconds, she nervously picked up the phone.

"Don't worry, this might be normal. Let me call and ask."

My mom wasn't in pain anymore, but a new problem had surfaced.

Seeing the wet patch, she was terrified.

Kristine made a call and then reassured my mom, "This is normal. I asked.

"After this procedure, there's some pressure in the chest. Just deal with it, Mom."

My mom was on the verge of tears, but seeing Kristine's casual expression, she could only nod.

Since it was said to be normal, my mom was too embarrassed to go to the hospital and had to endure it quietly.

She began regretting agreeing to the surgery.

She thought it would get better over time, but it only got worse. A forty-something-year-old woman with such a problem.

My mom was throwing away what she had squeezed out when she ran into a neighbor.

Seeing what my mom had, the neighbor casually said, "Why throw away good breast milk? It's valuable. Many people can't even buy it.

"A bag can cost hundreds."

My mom's hand shook, and she stared wide-eyed at the neighbor.

"What? People buy this stuff?"

They chatted, and my mom's eyes lit up. She went back home with a heavy heart but an excited look in her eyes.

She had been regretting it, but now she thought it was a good thing.

...

For a while, my mom didn't contact me, but I kept an eye on her and Kristine, visiting occasionally.

There was a new big fridge at home. Every time I tried to open it, my mom stopped me.

"What are you doing? Go somewhere else. You're not allowed to touch this fridge."

Seeing my mom in branded clothes, I just smiled and said nothing.

Once, when she wasn't looking, I sneaked a peek inside.

The fridge was packed with bags of milk, and I was shocked.

Closing the fridge, I suddenly remembered my mom's requests every time I visited.

"Don't bring anything else. Your friend likes fishing, right? Just bring me two pounds of crucian carp each time."

Her words echoed in my mind, and I thought of the crucian carp soup always on the table. I took deep breaths to calm down.

Crucian carp soup was good for lactation.

As I looked at my mom, who was laughing with Kristine in the living room, a horrifying thought struck me.

I searched on my phone and confirmed my suspicion.

I couldn't stay calm as I left the house.

For days, I followed my mom secretly, watching her hand over bags to various men while wearing a mask. I quietly took photos with my phone.

Seeing her greedily count the cash, I hid further back.

When she left, I couldn't hold it in and threw up by a tree.

I finally knew how my mom had been making money recently.

I wondered if my mom and Kristine would still be able to smile once they knew the truth.

My mom's business was booming. She bought herself several big gold bracelets.

And that wasn't the only good news.

My brother called me, sounding happy.

"Olive, you're going to be an aunt. Kristine is two months pregnant."

Just like in my previous life, Kristine was pregnant.

When I brought some fruit to visit, I heard my mom's voice first.

"Haha, my grandchild is coming. Kristine, don't worry. I'm saving money for you to stay at the best maternity center."

"Just thirty to fifty thousand. We can afford it."

My mom's laughter was hearty. But when she saw me walk in, she snorted and went quiet. She looked at the fruit in my hands and rolled her eyes.

"Cheap fruit for Kristine? How stingy!"

Ignoring her, I washed some grapes and started eating them.

My mom glared at me, but I pretended not to notice and slipped into the kitchen.

I didn't care about her cold remarks anymore. Since leaving home, I had been doing great.

My salary, including bonuses, had reached five figures, and I had just been promoted.

Humming a tune, I made some fish soup for my mom.

She didn't need to know about my achievements. She didn't care anyway.

The table was covered with steaming dishes. I served a big bowl of fish soup and handed it to my mom.

She took it, looking satisfied, and drank a big gulp.

"At least you know how to be considerate. But don't think about the family's money. Flattering me won't work."

Listening to my mom's endless complaints, I just said I wouldn't.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Kristine rubbing her chest with an uncomfortable look. I hid my smile behind my bowl.

I wondered how long it would take for the effects to show.

After dinner, my mom hurried me out. As I stepped outside, I ran into a group of young women.

Kristine's voice came from inside, sharp and urgent.

"Come in, don't stand at the door.

"Olive, move, you're blocking the way."

The first part was directed at the group, and the second part was scolding me.

I stepped aside and watched them enter. Kristine had started a new program and liked to recommend it to others, earning a referral fee.

She was always busy with guests at home.

My mom often praised Kristine to me.

"Kristine makes more money than you, even without a job."

The door slammed shut, cutting off my view of the people inside.

The door was covered in marks, and the poster my mom had me put up last year was still there, torn and faded.

Just then, my phone rang. It was the real estate agent.

I had an appointment to see a house that afternoon. From the moment I decided to move out, I planned to buy my own place.

"You useless leech, suck me dry."

My mom's words echoed in my mind. I stared at the door, my eyes stinging.

She said I was useless. I would show her otherwise.

The house purchase process was underway.

Even with all the busyness of dealing with the house and work, I made sure to bring carp soup to my mom every week.

Watching her gulp it down, almost burying her face in the bowl, I sighed deeply.

In my past life at this point, Kristine had already killed me.

Now, I could see them getting their comeuppance with my own eyes.

Kristine yawned as she waddled past me, glancing at the dishes on the table.

She pointed at the soup and said, "Pour me a bowl. I want some too."

I poured her a bowl and gently placed it in front of her.

Glancing at her belly, I casually asked, "Your due date is soon, right?"

She caressed her belly with a loving smile, her eyes overflowing with tenderness.

"Yes, only half a month left."

She looked so happy, completely unlike the venomous person who had killed me in my previous life.

I looked at her chest, and a cold glint flashed in my eyes.

"Kristine, does the cosmetic work you had done affect breastfeeding?"

Both of them froze. My mom slammed her bowl down on the table, her face livid with anger.

"What nonsense are you spouting? How could it affect anything? You're just being malicious."

My mom's reaction was the most intense. As I watched her heaving chest, I couldn't help but find it significant.

I almost forgot that my mom was a breastfeeding expert.

Kristine set her bowl down, giving me a disdainful look.

"Don't worry about it. I didn't go for those cheap treatments. It's all-natural, harmless to the body," she sneered.

"Why don't you focus on yourself? No matter how much you envy others, you shouldn't talk nonsense."

Hearing this, my mom couldn't sit still any longer. She flung her warm soup at my face.

I dodged, the soup splashing on the floor. My mom's curses echoed through the house.

"You wretched girl!"

Hearing those words again didn't faze me. Looking at them, I couldn't help but feel a bit of pity.

I was just trying to warn them. Since they wouldn't listen, it had nothing to do with me anymore.

The child was unlucky to have such a mother.

As I walked out the door, I overheard my mom on the phone, boasting about the increasingly nutritious milk she was selling, now so rich it needed a price increase.

My hand paused on the doorknob, a chill running through me.

Half a month later, Kristine gave birth to a son in the hospital.

When I arrived, the room was filled with laughter. Kristine lay weakly on the bed, a smile on her face.

My mom, chest out proudly, was calling everyone to share the good news. As I approached, she wobbled slightly.

"Oh, lately I've been feeling dizzy a lot. Could it be anemia?" She muttered, steadying herself against the wall.

My hand involuntarily clenched.

I couldn't see the baby yet. I set down my things, and my mom immediately told me to leave.

"Go on. Don't be an eyesore here.

"You irritate me just by being here."

Pretending not to care, I nodded and picked up the thermos.

"Mom, I made some special soup for you and Kristine. Drink it while it's hot."

My mom took the thermos, peeked inside, and nodded in satisfaction.

"At least you did one thing right. Go now. You're not needed here."

As usual, I nodded obediently, watching my mom rush back to the room. I couldn't help but smile.

Drink up for the milk.

With the baby born, my mom was too busy to focus on anything else. After sending Kristine and the baby to a postpartum center, she finally had time for her business.

Perhaps because she drank too much soup, the milk my mom sold became increasingly yellow and seemingly nutritious. More people came to her.

I often checked on my mom and Kristine. Seeing the yellowish milk bags in the fridge, I couldn't help but take a deep breath.

My mom and Kristine were in big trouble.

Things weren't peaceful at the postpartum center either. After leaving the hospital, my nephew frequently fell ill.

He was constantly sent back to the hospital, infuriating my mom.

"What kind of premium postpartum center is this? You're useless.

"You frauds, abusing my grandson."

The center fought back, showing my mom surveillance footage and confidently stating it wasn't their fault.

"We're professionals. If you don't believe us, call the police.

"All babies are treated the same. How could only your child have issues while others don't?"

The argument escalated, and eventually, the center refunded half the money and sent Kristine home.

"Ugh, what a scam! That so-called premium center is full of cheats."

My mom spat in the direction of the car, carefully placing the baby in Kristine's arms for nursing.

My nephew drank for a bit, then started vomiting and crying. Kristine, irritated, tried to soothe him and started feeding him again.

Seeing the baby's reluctance, I stayed silent. Kristine's milk, like my mom's, was yellower than usual.

I said nothing. What was there to fear? Like my mom said, it was just extra nutritious.

Back home, my nephew's condition didn't improve.

"He must not have been well cared for at the center. He'll get better at home.

"I'll make sure my grandson grows up strong and healthy."

My mom spoke confidently, slapping her chest as a sign of assurance.

Less than a week later, I got a phone call.

My nephew was dead.