In my past life, I was startled and anxious, afraid she would do something foolish, so I hurried over and poured out that pot of oatmeal.

Yet I overlooked her calm demeanor at such a young age. Even upon seeing me, Lizzy showed no signs of panic. In her eyes, deep and cold as the abyss, there was only endless indifference and ruthlessness.

Lizzy's gaze was as calm as stagnant water without ripples.

She asked, his expression unreadable, "Auntie, are you going to expose me?"

Approaching, I poured out the oatmeal and gently embraced her. "Don't ruin your future for unworthy people," I whispered.

I felt sorry for this little girl, who was burdened with a life of torment at such a tender age, mirroring my own fate.

I wanted to help her as if I was helping the isolated and helpless version of myself from the past.

Seeing her emaciated figure and bruised face, I was too preoccupied with my sympathy for her to notice the fleeting malice and resentment in her eyes.

And that hatred was directed towards me.

The icy December water chilled me to the bone, each wave slapping against my face, nearly numbing my thoughts.

But amidst it all, I distinctly heard her say, "Why did you meddle and pour out that pot of oatmeal?

"If you hadn't interfered, they would all have gone to die with Grandpa!

"If it weren't for you, I wouldn't have suffered for so many years! It's all your fault! You deserve to die just like them!"

Suddenly, the words came to me. "A beam of light shines into the dark tower, exposing all the dirt and sin within, thus tainting the light with guilt."

Thinking of Lizzy's resentful face and her resolute decision to drag me into death with her, I chuckled bitterly, thinking, "Am I that guilty light?"

In my past life, I couldn't fathom it, and in this life, I still couldn't.

I couldn't understand, but I also didn't want to.

Upon rebirth, I grasped the most profound truth. That was letting go of the savior complex and respecting the destinies of others.

Moreover, staying far away from vampiric, toxic families.

So this time, as Lizzy wished, I didn't step forward to pour out that pot of oatmeal.

Concealed by the wall, I recorded the entire scene on my phone before quietly leaving.

Not long after I walked back to the table, Lizzy walked in carrying a bowl.

Inside, steaming hot oatmeal laced with something extra.

I glanced over and then averted my gaze.

Lizzy kept her head down and went to hand the bowl to her mother.

I couldn't judge whether this was right or wrong, for I myself had been a child bound by a toxic family intimately acquainted with the bitterness, hatred, resentment, and unwillingness within.

But everyone must bear the consequences of their choices.

Sipping my coffee, I sat on the sidelines, silently observing the scene.

I couldn't help but wonder, "In this life without my intervention, will Lizzy be content?"

Amanda merely cast a fleeting glance her way, dismissively remarking, "Just leave it there."

Her gaze dripped with disdain.

"It was just cooking oatmeal. What took you so long? Useless!

"And now you've made it all mushy, how am I supposed to eat this?"

She grumbled incessantly, never once considering preserving a shred of dignity for her own daughter in front of so many others.

Lizzy stood by, head bowed, seemingly oblivious, as if she had long grown accustomed to it all.

Suddenly, Lizzy lifted her head, locking eyes with me directly.

"Auntie, long time no see."

When I left, Lizzy was already seven years old and adept at recognizing people.

As I stopped feeling sorry for her, this statement struck me as somewhat eerie.

I was suddenly reminded of my mother's snide words from the past.

"You seem quite concerned about that little girl.

"You fool! She sells you out, and you will still be worried about her!"

Back then, I brushed it off, thinking my mother was just venting as usual.

But at this moment, the gaze projected by Lizzy across the table seemed to merge with the look she gave me five years ago. At that time, I planned to escape the village and attend university, but Lizzy stood in the doorway, staring into my eyes.

A sudden chill ran down my spine.

At her age, young girls still struggled to conceal their emotions well. However, despite the faint smile on her face, Lizzy's eyes couldn't hide the malice brewing within.

For the past five years, I had been unable to comprehend why, despite meticulously planning everything, I was still discovered by my family.

If it weren't for my teacher's timely intervention, I might never have escaped this secluded village nestled in the mountains.

I would have been forced to marry an old man by my mother, condemned to a life of laundry, cooking, and childbearing, a fate sealed without reprieve.

Under the pitch-black sky, clutching my ID, I made my way out.

A soft voice echoed from behind, "Auntie, where are you off to?"

Cold sweat trickled down my back as I frantically scanned my surroundings. Only after confirming no one else was present did I exhale deeply.

As I looked at Lizzy, who I had always shielded, a pang of guilt washed over me. But I understood that staying here would mean settling for a life of mediocrity.

I approached, gently patting her head, whispering, "Be a good girl, Liz."

At that time, I still called her nickname "Liz."

Born into a family that favored sons over daughters, I could sense her sorrow.

"Liz, I'm going to university. Remember, you must persevere in your studies, okay?

"Education is our only chance to escape the mountains, our sole path to changing our fate..."

With her head bowed in the dim light, I couldn't discern Lizzy's expression, only hearing her somber words.

"Can you take me with you?"

"Sorry."

That was the only answer I could give back then.