I no longer deliver meals to my husband, Zachary Smith—the man who became the factory manager after receiving a scholarship that brought him to the city—since my rebirth.

I even make sure to detour using the gate at the factory's north side whenever he uses the southern gate after he finishes his meetings.

In my past life, I was fully aware he took me as his wife—a humble country woman—just for the chance to move to the city. Yet, I insisted on becoming his wife, anyway. After all, I was convinced that a person's true affections could be earned and nurtured.

Yet, Zachary maintained a constant, formal distance throughout our marriage. He would simply offer me a book the moment I attempted to bridge the gap, saying, "You should study more so that you don't continually attract people's contempt."

I got emboldened by the drink as I threw my arms around him, yet he merely accepted the embrace rigidly, whispering, "It's just what married couples do."

It wasn't until decades later, as I lay on my deathbed, that I discovered the heartbreaking words in his autobiography. In it, he stated that our entire marriage was like being trapped in a mire and that he never wanted to be with me again if he were to ever be reborn.

I felt a searing pain tearing through my heart as I closed my eyes in devastating anguish.

When I open my eyes again, I find myself back at the point in time when the gossip about Zachary and Juliana Ziegler, the factory's technician who studied abroad, first began to spread.

In this life, I choose not to fight or cause drama. Instead, I am the one who brings up the divorce.

In that instant, Zachary Smith's composure finally broke.

Juliana Ziegler, who was standing beside him, immediately replaced her triumphant smirk with a look of utter distress. "You've got this all wrong, Ms. Warner. There's nothing inappropriate going on between us, as Zachary merely admires my talent.

"I came here today for the sole purpose of clearing up this misunderstanding, so please spare him and direct all your anger at me instead, Ms. Warner!"

Having said that, Juliana flexed her knees, intending to grovel before my feet.

Zachary quickly moved to support her. He then turned to glare at me, snapping, "That's enough, Serenity Warner! Do you really have to humiliate someone like this over such a trivial matter? You'd better apologize to Ms. Ziegler now!"

I hadn't even uttered a single word, yet I was immediately labeled the jealous, histrionic one. In my past life, whenever I had a conflict with Juliana, I was always deemed the one at fault, as Zachary consistently took Juliana's side.

In addition, our arguments were always the talk of the town, with them always dismissing me as nothing more than a narrow-minded country bumpkin with a vindictive streak.

"What is there to apologize for when I hadn't even uttered a single word? Do you expect me to prevent her from groveling before me just because she's spineless, Zachary?"

Juliana's gaze registered a momentary surprise as she realized that she had failed to provoke me and was met with a challenge instead. She quickly resumed her desperate performance, her eyes brimming with tears while saying, "You have to believe me, Ms. Warner. Zachary and I—"

I couldn't be bothered with her pretense, so I instantly cut her off, saying, "I've heard enough. I'll get a divorce, which will free up the position you're so clearly angling for."

I shifted my attention downward, fixing my gaze on the watch she wore. "Why are you wearing the watch Zachary bought with three months of pay if there's genuinely nothing going on between you two? You ought to know that some acts, once overplayed, just look utterly fake."

Juliana reacted as if struck, her free hand instinctively clamping over the watch on her wrist.

I had already laid eyes on the watch long before. Zachary cherished it like a treasure on the day he bought it, carefully stowing it in a cabinet and handcrafting a wooden box for it.

Those hands of his, unused to any physical labor, had developed multiple blisters from the physical work involved in acquiring that watch and crafting that wooden box.

Since my birthday was just around the corner back then, I foolishly allowed myself to believe that this might be the very first genuine present Zachary had ever prepared for me. I was filled with happiness as I eagerly anticipated that day.

So, I spent my birthday waiting for him. I waited until the food was long past cold before I saw Zachary and Juliana approaching together beneath the streetlight.

I noticed that the way he looked at her was filled with tenderness and warmth—something I had never seen before. I then saw the watch on Juliana's wrist, which she was showing off to him with a flourish.

Zachary immediately turned away from my gaze, stating, "You shouldn't overthink it. That's merely a birthday present I prepared for Ms. Ziegler."

I had already made up my mind to move on from him, but my heart still ached painfully at his statement, thinking that in the six years we had been married, he had never once remembered my birthday.

Meanwhile, Juliana and Zachary had only known each other for one month.

I recalled the lines in his autobiography, where he had written that every single day spent in my company had been sheer agony and torture.

It was then that my final flicker of resentment was extinguished completely, replaced by a profound, consuming weariness.

I looked at Zachary and stated earnestly, "I'm serious about getting a divorce, so let's just move on with our lives separately, Zachary."

…

In the end, Zachary opted not to return home that night, taking up residence in the single dormitory at the factory instead.

I, on the other hand, didn't seek him out. Instead, I was preparing to sell my position at the factory.

It wasn't long before this information circulated and became common knowledge across the factory floor, and I was met with expressions that simultaneously conveyed scorn and profound pity.

"Have you heard the news? Serenity's getting kicked out!"

"Isn't it because Mr. Smith and Ms. Ziegler are about to make things official?"

"It's about time a country bumpkin like her figured out where she stood."

They naturally assumed I was Zachary's relative from the countryside who came to the city to stay with him, since he had never spoken of our real relationship. I had tried to clarify before, but I held back, fearing that it would hinder Zachary's career.

Hearing their gossip now, I merely smiled faintly, saying, "You're absolutely right. I, the country bumpkin, have given up the dream of climbing high. I'd much rather return to the ease of the countryside since city life is so dull."

They had no idea that I wasn't conceding, though—I was merely choosing a completely new direction for my life.

In my past life, I had desperately tried to bridge the intellectual gap between us. I studied relentlessly, earning a university degree and then even a master's.

Yet, even as an engineer, Zachary still saw me as the same old country bumpkin whose conversation never strayed beyond domestic minutiae, so much so that he would rather speak to the mute parrot at home than have a single conversation with me.

In this life, I wanted to live my life on my own terms. I had planned to wait until the position was sold and the money was in hand before going to Zachary to finalize the divorce procedures, and then we would end it completely.

Yet, an urgent call immediately disrupted all my plans—Mom was in critical condition with a fractured leg that required two thousand dollars for medical treatment.

I was instantly overcome by dread, thinking that, though I had sold my position in the factory for 3,200 dollars, the official transfer and funds would take at least two weeks to process. I knew that Mom couldn't wait that long.

It was then that I spotted Zachary, just emerging from the factory floor. I couldn't care about anything else at that moment, as I rushed over and blocked his way, exclaiming, "I need two thousand dollars this instant! It's an emergency, Zachary!"

In an instant, everyone's attention immediately zeroed in on us, their faces alight with curious scrutiny.

Zachary's cheerful expression instantly faltered. "How could I possibly have that amount of money on me?"

I knew he was lying. I had been earning 480 dollars per month, and aside from the 120 dollars I kept for household expenses, the rest all went to him. In any case, no matter how extravagantly he spent, it was impossible that he didn't have two thousand dollars on him.

I looked at him with bloodshot eyes, my voice wavering and bordering on a cry. "It's my mother. She's been injured—her leg is fractured, and she's in the hospital right now waiting for the money for treatment!

"I really need that money now! I have been giving you my salary all these years, so there's no way you don't have any money on hand!"

Zachary furrowed his brow, feeling utterly mortified from the surrounding workers' gazes. He hissed under his breath, his voice dripping with impatience, "Have you not made enough of a fuss yet, Serenity? I already told you that I don't have the money!"

I stared intently at him, my heart sinking bit by bit. "I have been giving you 360 dollars every month for the past six years. How can you possibly claim not to have two thousand dollars right now?"

Zachary's eyes flashed with impatience as he retorted curtly, "Do you not know how much you've eaten or spent all these years?"

In an instant, the surrounding factory workers erupted in loud laughter, and jeering remarks rose and fell in quick succession.

"Serenity lived off Mr. Smith and stayed under his roof, and now she just asked for two thousand dollars straight up! How utterly shameless of her!"

"I think she was provoked by Ms. Ziegler and came here intentionally to pick a fight!"

I looked at Zachary, who, true to form, made no attempt whatsoever to defend me.

I clearly hadn't used any of his money, and Zachary was fully aware of that. I suddenly realized that he was deliberately retaliating against me for challenging him and demanding a divorce a few days earlier.

I had no other choice, as Mom was still in the hospital, and every second mattered. I forced down the bitter metallic taste of blood rising in my throat and whispered hoarsely, "What do I have to do for you to give me the money, Zachary?"

It was evident that Zachary was pleased with my submission, as he smugly lifted his chin and said, "I'll give you the money as long as you respectfully apologize to Ms. Ziegler."

Juliana was standing right there, wearing a thoroughly practiced and hypocritical smile of benevolence.

I clenched my fists at my sides, my nails digging into my palms. I chose to swallow my pride for Mom's sake and lower my head before her, forcing out the words through a veil of humiliation. "I'm so sorry for misunderstanding you a few days ago, Ms. Ziegler."

Juliana made a show of reaching out to stop me, but her voice was laced with passive aggression. "You don't have to do this since I never blamed you, Ms. Warner. You have constantly badmouthed me and dragged my name through the mud at work, but since we are colleagues, I won't fuss over it."

I immediately looked up, realizing that she was completely making things up.

Zachary's expression hardened, snapping, "You're truly despicable, Serenity! How could you treat your colleague in such a manner? Get down on your knees and apologize to Ms. Ziegler now!"

"I did no such thing!" I protested, the humiliation crushing me.

"You still dare to talk back, huh?" Zachary's expression hardened, his eyes brimming with disgust and distrust.

In the meantime, the onlookers eagerly fueled the confrontation with their taunts and shouts.

"That country bumpkin just doesn't know any better! Get her to grovel before Ms. Ziegler!"

"You either grovel before Ms. Ziegler or get out of the factory!"

In the end, the two nearby colleagues, known for always sucking up to the supervisors, rushed forward and tried to physically shove me down into a groveling position.

I struggled fiercely against their grip, the sting of shame burning in my eyes as tears threatened to fall.

Zachary asked indifferently, "Have you already given up on the two thousand dollars meant for your mother?"

In that single moment, every ounce of my energy completely deserted me. I ceased all resistance, yielding to their strength as they pushed me down onto the factory floor.

In the end, the impact of my knees striking the floor resonated dully, drowned out by the factory worker's boisterous mocking. I stared defiantly at Zachary as my eyes turned bloodshot from shame. "I did what you asked, so hand over the money now."

Zachary looked down at me and stated indifferently, "You'll get it when I collect my paycheck at the end of the month, since I don't have that kind of money on me right now."

I felt the fury boiling within me as I gritted my teeth, snarling, "You went back on your word!"

Zachary casually brushed off his sleeve, stating, "I clearly stated that I didn't have the money, Serenity—you were the one who chose to be so persistent."

In that instant, all the humiliation and bitterness I had swallowed finally erupted. "You're truly despicable, Zachary!

"Mom and Dad treated you like their own child back in the village! Mom even sold all her wedding gifts and pleaded with everyone she knew to send you to the city for this position of yours! How can you be so utterly ungrateful?"

I was just about to say more when a slap across my face silenced me. Zachary glared at me with bone-chilling coldness, yelling, "How long must you cling to such a trivial kindness, Serenity? You'd better stop making any trouble. Otherwise, you can walk out that door for good!"

Having said that, Zachary ignored me completely and left, taking Juliana with him.

"Why don't we try that Franconian cuisine place on Central Street, Zachary? It might be pricey, though—I heard a meal costs a few hundred dollars."

"I've got it covered! It'll be considered a celebratory dinner for us!"

I felt an overwhelming fury consuming my final bit of control. I immediately bolted toward the police station, and by the time I led the two police officers to the restaurant, Zachary and Juliana were finishing their Franconian cuisine.

Zachary's sophisticated smile vanished the moment he noticed the police officers.

I lowered my gaze and noticed the 1,440-dollar bill, thinking that he was certainly spending on a grand scale.

Upon hearing that I had reported him to the police on charges of "personal property theft", Zachary completely lost it, quickly raising his hand to strike me.