I have never enjoyed any love because, in their eyes, I was always not a family member.

After the high school entrance exam, my parents secretly changed my application. I could have attended a top high school, but I ended up at a vocational school that didn't charge tuition.

When I found out the truth, I cried my heart out, clutching the admission letter and reading it over and over again.

My parents, seeing my breakdown, looked slightly guilty and awkwardly held my trembling hand.

"Lisa, why should a girl study so much? Besides, your brother needs money for his work. You understand, right? Vocational school is good. You can get a job in three years and start earning money."

I couldn't understand why my brother, who was working, still needed financial support from our parents.

I couldn't understand why my education was a burden to them.

That's when I finally understood what gender discrimination was.

With tears in my eyes, I nodded and packed my bags for vocational school. I enrolled in a nursing program that guaranteed job placement and spent three years living independently.

Life was like this, one wrong step led to another.

During those three years, I worked hard, earning scholarships, doing part-time jobs, saving every penny for tuition and living expenses.

Every time Linda called, she would plead, "Lisa, Jeremy is getting married soon, and we're short on money."

Despite my struggles and the burden of family needs, I felt guilty spending my own hard-earned money.

After graduation, I was assigned to work at a county hospital.

Without enough savings to rent a place, I had to move back home.

When I wasn't working, I was treated like a servant—washing all the clothes, doing all the chores.

They still called me a good-for-nothing.

Silently, I put down my fork and prepared to go back to my room.

"Lisa, stop right there!"

Jeremy's cold voice stopped me.

"You're 19 now. Amanda was already with me at your age. You need to find a man soon. You can't live with us forever."

He patted my Zed's head with a proud look. "Don't worry, everything at home will be yours.

"Lisa, I met an old workmate in town today, the one who stayed at our place a few days before. Ethan, do you remember him?

"His family got four houses from the government. They're rich. I showed him your photo, and he's interested."

I forced a smile, hiding my true feelings.

Ethan was a gambling, drinking, and womanizing man Jeremy hung out with when he worked.

When I was studying, he stayed at our house for a while.

The first time Ethan saw me, he looked at me lecherously.

One night, he sneaked into my room and groped me. I wasn't having it and smashed a lamp over his head.

The next day, I packed my things and returned to school, far away from this mess.

I thought he must have hated me ever since.

A bastard asked his sister to marry another bastard.

I stood still, calmly speaking, "Do you remember what he did to me?"

Amanda quickly smoothed things over. "Oh, your brother is doing it for you. Ethan doesn't even look down on you!"

Her eyes gleamed with shrewdness as she revealed the real reason. "Besides, if you marry him, we can get a house for Zed. He won't have to worry about finding a wife in the future!"

Zed, grabbing my clothes. "Auntie, I want to get married!"

I looked down, smiling, hiding the mockery in my eyes. "Alright! I promise you have a house to get married."

At the dinner table, they laughed and planned after my marriage.

I ignored them.

That night, I cried, letting go of any hope for family.

These past years, I had been saving to buy a house near the hospital to move out.

Luckily, the hospital was in an old part of town where prices were reasonable.

Working the night shift, I had time during the day to visit houses.

I only had enough savings for a down payment, so I bought a small one-bedroom apartment.

Though small, it was enough for me.

After viewing the house, it was dark. I hurried to the bus stop to go to work.

"Lisa?"

A male voice made me look back. I saw those familiar, lecherous eyes again.

Ethan grinned, his face oily and red. "I heard you work at a hospital?"

I nodded indifferently.

He squinted, his mouth twisted in a greedy smile. "Being a nurse is great! When we get married, we won't have to pay for hospital visits."

I forced a smile, unable to hide my disgust.

Thinking I was shy, he kept bragging about his family's new houses.

I pointed at the approaching bus. "We'll talk later."

I walked away.

Behind me, Ethan raised his voice. "I'll come to discuss our marriage!"

I was organizing patient records when the call from home came.

Amanda's voice was tearful. "Lisa, help Zed!"

I interrupted her sobbing on the phone, "What's wrong with him?"

She choked out. "Zed has a terrible stomachache. He keeps throwing up everything he eats."

It turned out he had food poisoning from eating too much of the red corn.

"Take him to the clinic. It's probably food poisoning," I advised before hanging up.

Without waiting for them to speak, I hung up the phone.

I hoped they would understand the source of the poisoning.

After my night shift, I dragged myself home, exhausted. The house was unusually quiet.

Linda was in the kitchen, still cooking the red corn.

She turned and saw me, her face darkening with displeasure. "Couldn't find you when Zed was in trouble yesterday! Now you dare to come back!"

"Thank god, Zed's fine."

Ignoring her discontent, I asked, "How is Zed?"

Linda was proud. "He's resting. Yesterday, he had some chicken and red corn. With the avian influenza going around, no more chicken for now! My poor boy."

I scoffed, shrugging indifferently. "Yes, no more chicken."

But it wasn't the chicken that was the problem. It was the red corn.

The toxins in moldy corn were dozens of times more potent than arsenic but accumulated slowly.

Mild cases led to diarrhea and food poisoning, but over time, they damage the liver and were carcinogenic.

In my previous life, I didn't even get a chance to explain before they beat me to death.

Now, given the chance, they still didn't listen, clinging stubbornly to the superstition of the red corn's supposed good luck.

The seeds of poison were already sown. I waited to see the outcome.