Ever since I married Myra Cowan, I started living like a beggar despite making an annual salary of a million dollars.

She kept telling me, "We should hang in there for now, honey. Once we've saved enough money, we'll be able to live however we want without worrying about our financial situation."

My closet was stuffed with old suits bought ten years ago. My lunches were always sandwiches, which were nearing their expiry dates, bought from convenience stores.

My friends made fun of me for marrying a woman who was addicted to saving money. But my heart went out to Myra for suffering with me in life.

But when I was diagnosed with late-stage stomach cancer and needed money for a life-saving surgery, Myra broke down in tears and told me that all of our savings were kept in a fixed-term deposit.

Before I drew my last breath, I heard Myra telling her younger brother, Dwight Cowan, over the phone in a gentle tone, "I've already transferred you the down payment for your house."

When I open my eyes again, I've returned to the day Myra demands that I sell my gaming account in exchange for money.

The monitor shows a familiar login screen. Myra can be seen standing next to me.

"This account can be sold for 8,000 dollars. We can save three months' worth of expenses with this money!"

I just laugh in response.

In my previous life, I had done nothing but save money. In the end, all of my money became someone else's assets.

Why the hell should I save money in this life?

With just one click on the mouse, I reload a million dollars into the game right away.

Immediately, a reddish-golden meteor shower covers the skies of the entire server. The system makes an announcement in a bold, enlarged font that gets repeated for a long time.

"Player 'Void' spares no expense, inviting fair maidens from across the realms to forge a destined bond! Those who are interested are welcome to attend the Celestial Lake Gathering. A bride price of one million awaits—offered in exchange for a single, sincere heart."

"Glenn Miller, have you gone completely insane? How could you spend so much money in a game? This is one million dollars we're talking about!"

Myra Cowan's scream was deafening. Heaving violently, she stared fixedly at the still-scrolling announcement on the screen, as if the money that had gone up in flames was her very life.

"Hurry and contact their customer service! Tell them you made a mistake when topping up and ask for a refund! Do it now!"

I looked at her and said calmly, "I earned this money, so I can spend it however I want."

Myra seemed choked by my words, and the fierce expression of her face froze for a moment. In the next second, she took a deep breath and forced a smile.

"Honey, are you mad at me? Was it because I asked you to sell your account?" she asked softly, her voice laced with an almost hesitant eagerness to please.

Tugging at my sleeve, she continued tearfully, "I'm doing this for our sake. Haven't you always said work is exhausting, and you dream of retiring early to give us a comfortable life?

"Didn't we agree that sacrificing a little now and being more frugal is all for our future? You push yourself so hard at work that it's even giving you stomach issues. It simply breaks my heart to see you like this."

As she spoke, she turned and hurried into the kitchen. Moments later, she came back out holding a white ceramic bowl with a gentle smile.

"See? I remembered you've been complaining about bloating lately. I even asked the herbalist and made you this chicken soup. It's really good for the stomach." She held out the bowl toward me, her gaze earnest. "Have some while it's still hot, okay?"

The soup was clear and light, with a few pieces of vegetables floating on the surface. My stomach seemed to twinge faintly again.

It was just like this in my previous life.

Myra would always gently tell me to endure and save a little more for our future. She would make soup for me, plan every expense meticulously, and hold tightly onto every penny I earned through blood, sweat, and tears.

Every time I asked, she would tell me the money was in a fixed-term deposit, that we were working toward "financial freedom".

And I had believed her.

Behind the gleaming title of a million-dollar annual salary, I lived like a beggar hiding in the shadows. I gave her all my trust and money, yet in the end, she let me die in agony on a hospital bed.

The chicken soup she had brewed countless times now carried the scent of deceit.

As I gazed into the feigned worry and tenderness in Myra's eyes, I suddenly let out a low laugh. The sound was so cold it felt foreign even to me.

"Fine, you're right," I said as I took the bowl from her.

I placed the soup gently on the table and fixed my gaze straight into her eyes, which were struggling to remain composed.

"I will get every last cent of my money back."

Myra visibly relaxed when she saw me placing the bowl down.

"Alright then, you go ahead and reach out to their customer service, and I'll get the bed ready for us. Don't forget to drink the soup—taking care of your stomach is important."

Her footsteps faded away toward the bedroom.

I lifted the bowl and took a sip. My stomach abruptly clenched. It was a sharp, visceral pang that instantly brought back the relentless agony of stomach cancer from my previous life.

I picked up a spoon and slowly pushed aside the vegetable pieces floating on the surface. Beneath lay chunks of chicken, stewed under tender and soft. And beside them were thick slices of ginger, a handful of cardamom pods, and three plump, whole peppers.

My hand stilled.

Ginger was naturally spicy and could irritate an already sensitive stomach lining. Cardamom pods were intensely warming and could cause indigestion or heartburn for some people, especially with regular use. Peppers were also sharp and spicy.

While using a pinch of these in cooking was generally harmless, simmering large amounts for hours concentrated their irritating compounds into the soup. For someone with stomach issues, drinking this was the same as taking a slow-acting poison.

In my previous life, when I was diagnosed with late-stage stomach cancer, the doctor had frowned and asked about my diet.

I told him Myra often made me stomach-nourishing soup.

The doctor only shook his head, saying some folk remedies might not suit the condition and could even make things worse.

At the time, I defended Myra, insisting her intentions were good.

Ha, so much for her good intentions.

It turned out even back then, this so-called soup made with love was slowly poisoning me all along.

I forced down the anger and hatred churning inside me, as it wasn't time to confront her yet.

Aside from the project bonus I'd just squandered in the game, all my salaries, bonuses, and savings from over the years were still in Myra's hands. If I forced a showdown now, I wouldn't get a single penny back.

I had to endure, to wait, and to come up with a plan.

I set the bowl down and walked to my computer. On the screen, a notice suddenly popped up.

"Announcement of Further Strengthening the Management of Minors' Game Spending."

The content was nothing more than the usual official boilerplate calling for compliance, implementing real-name verification, prohibiting underage users from making in-app purchases, and so on.

I skimmed lazily over the text, and I was just about to close it when my finger suddenly froze mid-air.

The words "minors", "irrational large-amount spending", "identity verification", and "refund appeals" caught my eye, making me raise a brow slightly. I had just found a way to get my money back.

Soon, the door opened.

"Honey, how did it go with the customer service? Are they going to refund the money?" she asked, unable to hide the urgency in her eyes at all.

I let out a heavy sigh and pulled up the page with the announcement regarding minors. Then, I turned the screen toward her and said, "I already contacted them. But they said I'm an adult and that the top-up was voluntary, so it doesn't meet the refund criteria."

"What?" Myra's face instantly paled. "How can they do this? This is a million dollars we're talking about! They can't just decide it's non-refundable!"

Her chest rose and fell sharply, and her eyes burned with anger.

"Actually," I began hesitantly, "it's not completely hopeless."

Myra immediately looked up at me. "What do you mean? Hurry up and tell me!"

I pointed to the keywords on the screen—"minors", "irrational spending", "guardians can appeal for refunds".

"You see, the rules are really strict about protecting minors these days. If the money was spent by a minor, the chances of getting a refund are very high as long as a guardian steps forward to appeal."

Myra paused for a moment, not immediately grasping what I meant.

I looked at her and continued slowly, "What if we say the one who actually made the top-up wasn't me? Isn't Dwight just starting high school and still underage?"

Myra's breath hitched.

"We can claim he used my account and payment password without us noticing and made a huge purchase. Since you're his older sister, that makes you his guardian. You can absolutely file an appeal with the game company to demand a refund."

Observing her slowly growing interest, I carefully fanned the flames a little more.

"Besides, I heard a colleague from the legal department mention once that in clear-cut cases like this, where a minor was induced into making huge in-game purchases, if you can stir things up a bit—like getting the media involved…"

"The game company will sometimes not only issue a full refund but also offer extra compensation just to settle the matter and protect their reputation."

"Compensation?" Myra's breathing quickened.

I nodded and said confidently, "That's right. Given that this matter involves a minor, the public pressure would be intense. By then, we might even get back more than a million dollars."

Myra's eyes suddenly lit up, greed swiftly overriding her hesitation and unease.

"You're right!" She quickly pulled out her phone. "I'll call Dwight right now! That kid has gone too far. How could he secretly top up so much money?"

Even as she spoke, she had already dialed the number. She turned and walked toward the balcony, deliberately closing the door behind her.

Through the glass, I eavesdropped on her phone call.

"Dwight, it's me. That idiot Glenn blew a million on game top-ups. But there's a way to get it back—maybe even more." She paused briefly. "Right, you just stick to the story and say it was you who secretly topped up.

"What's there to worry about? With me handling things, that idiot Glenn won't suspect a thing. Seriously, the money he earns is rightfully ours anyway. Once we get this refund, you'll have more than enough for the down payment on your apartment.

"I'll even chip in some extra. Trust me, Glenn's easy to manipulate. He's been drinking that soup of mine for so long, his head's practically foggy these days."

She even let out a couple of smug laughs as she spoke.

I sat in front of my computer, the glow of the screen washing over my face. A cold, slow smile crept across my lips.

Just as I thought, Myra couldn't even bother keeping up the act around me till the end.

Now that she had taken the bait, the plan was finally in motion.

The next afternoon, Dwight swaggered in. He was only 17 years old, but his face was already full of the arrogance that came with being spoiled.

"Glenn, I heard from Myra that you've got trouble with that lousy game account of yours," he said flippantly. "Hurry up and give me the account and password. I'll handle it for you. Let's get that money back so you don't have to mess around yourself."

Myra, standing nearby, didn't stop him. Instead, she smiled and handed him an ice-cold soda.

"Dwight's right. You don't understand these things, so it's best to rely on him. Hurry up and give him the account."

I pushed down the cold, bitter irony rising in my chest.

How could I have been so blind in my previous life to believe this family actually wanted to build a future with me? To them, all my hard-earned money probably belonged to Dwight from the start.

"Okay. Sorry to trouble you," I said, obediently taking out the account and password I had prepared in advance. "Just log in and follow what the customer service says."

After eagerly snatching the note, Dwight opened my computer and logged into the game.

When Dwight saw the magnificent login screen, the top-tier server outfits and mount effects, and the blinding exclusive title and halo unlocked by that million-dollar top-up, his eyes instantly widened, and his breathing grew heavy.

"Glenn, your account is amazing!" He swallowed hard, his finger sliding excitedly over the mouse.

"If you like it, play more," I said from behind me, my tone calm and encouraging. "We're appealing for a refund anyway, so it's a good chance for you to get a feel for it. Play a little more immersively. That way, it'll look more realistic to the customer service too."

Dwight just grunted vaguely in response without looking back.

Over the next few days, Dwight practically moved into my place.

At first, he just wandered around, trying out the top-tier skins and mounts he could never afford. But soon, he started spending recklessly.

"Myra, transfer me some money. This equipment enhancement double-success-rate event ends today. I've got to get it!" he shouted toward the kitchen, not even turning his head.

Myra came out, wiping her hands. "Dwight, aren't we supposed to be appealing for a refund? Why are you still putting money in?" she asked hesitantly.