After saying goodbye to Amanda, I headed to the hospital. When I saw the report confirming that everything was healthy with the baby, I realized I truly had been reborn. Thinking back on everything from my previous life, I couldn’t help but grit my teeth.

Amanda Collins was my best friend and a well-known yoga instructor. She had a beautiful face and a graceful, flexible body. Even in her thirties and unmarried, she still held her charm in the eyes of men, often more so than the younger women. In her past life, she had been dating a wealthy man, a second-generation heir. Men like him were drawn to women who exuded a certain allure and maturity.

When Amanda first heard about the beauty treatment, she was immediately intrigued. She had undergone an abortion once and that experience left her feeling she could not compete with younger women. Amanda was desperate to elevate herself, to force her way into the upper echelons of society.

I came from a family with a strong tradition in herbal medicine, particularly in gynecology and women's health. I warned Amanda that the treatment could severely damage her uterus and harm her body’s natural functions. I explained that not only could it cause infertility, but it might even lead to systemic infection, organ failure and, ultimately, be life-threatening. I told her she was in excellent health and didn’t need to risk her life for such a procedure.

I worked as a lesser-known practitioner of traditional medicine at a general hospital and I also helped people restore their health in my spare time. I had experience in this area, so I spoke from knowledge and concern.

Amanda eventually listened to my advice, hesitating for a long time before canceling her appointment. But I never imagined that her wealthy boyfriend would leave her for a younger model. Losing her "golden ticket," Amanda was devastated. She had always thought she was better than me, ever since we were children. But now, without her wealthy benefactor, she was left with nothing.

Consumed by anger and resentment, she stormed into the hospital with a knife, stabbing me violently. I fought desperately to protect my stomach, trying to shield the baby inside. I had struggled for so long to conceive and this child was precious to me. But Amanda, with a cruel smile, stabbed my belly, targeting my uterus, cutting my unborn child from me with a blade.

"He said I wasn't young enough, not desirable enough and it's all because you stopped me from getting the treatment," she hissed. "You're just jealous of me! You can't stand to see me live a good life. My life in that mansion—ruined, all because of you!"

A flicker of hatred crossed my eyes as I remembered that terrible day. Now, I was back, given a second chance. This time, I knew better than to try and stop her.

As I finished my facial, I could already smell the strong chemicals in the beauty products they used at this salon. The so-called "top-secret treatment" was likely filled with dangerous substances. I could only imagine the damage it might do to someone’s body.

If Amanda was determined to follow a destructive path, why should I stop her? Let her choose her own fate.

When I got home, my thoughts returned to the hospital where I worked. After being stabbed to death there in my previous life, I couldn’t help but feel uneasy. The security measures were inadequate and the stress on the doctors was immense.

“Honey, I’m thinking about quitting my job and taking some time off,” I said.

Michael paused, looking at me with concern. "Sweetheart, if you’re feeling overwhelmed, just tell me," he replied gently. "We don't need the extra income."

He raised his eyes and continued cautiously. As a doctor, my job was always demanding and he had often encouraged me to take care of my health. But I had always dismissed his concerns, driven by my desire to advance my career.

“Are you hiding something from me, love?” Michael's mind seemed to race through countless scenarios. Eventually, a specific thought crossed his mind and his eyes filled with tears.

"No matter what it is, we'll find a way to cure it," he declared, his voice trembling. "Even if we have to spend every cent we have! I've saved up a lot over the years."

I smiled, raising an eyebrow and handed him the report from the obstetrician.

"I'm going to be a dad?" he exclaimed, his face lighting up with joy. He lifted me into his arms, alternating between laughter and tears.

After a while, he calmed down and promised, "Don't worry, darling. I’ll take the best care of you."

So, I spent the next few weeks at home, focusing on my pregnancy. As I did, my body softened and filled out.

A month later, I saw Amanda again. There was a new, flirtatious air about her. She came over with several gifts, saying, "Hey, Samantha, it's been over a month! You've put on some weight!"

She looked at me with feigned sympathy. "I bought these clothes especially for you—they’re all from high-end brands."

I glanced at them. They were, indeed, designer labels. But the sizes she chose seemed intended to accentuate my fuller figure in the least flattering way.

I knew exactly what she was up to. "Amanda, I can't wear these," I said, deliberately sounding regretful. "It's a waste to give them to me."

Then, with an overly admiring tone, I added, "Not like you—everything looks fabulous on you, even a burlap sack."

Amanda beamed, clearly pleased with the compliment. She patted my hand and said, "It's okay, Samantha. You can wear them once you’ve slimmed down. We've been like sisters since we were little. We should go shopping together more often!"

With that, she strutted out in her trademark high heels, clearly enjoying the chance to flaunt her appearance. As the scent of her perfume lingered in the air, I wrinkled my nose and turned on the air purifier. A hint of a smile tugged at my lips—the perfume had an odd, faintly fishy undertone. It seemed she had developed a mild infection.

I glanced at the expensive clothes she’d brought over, my expression unreadable. Even though I couldn’t wear them, they were still valuable. I took them and decided to hang them up for sale at a local seafood market. Might as well make some use of them.

I guessed Amanda hadn't been seeing her wealthy benefactor recently. If she was so desperate to get back in the game before her body had fully recovered, she was bound to catch something nasty.

My husband, Michael, came home early that day. As he stepped inside, he caught a whiff of the lingering strong perfume in the air and frowned slightly. Without a word, he went out to the balcony and returned with a few potted plants that were safe for pregnant women and known for their air-purifying properties.

Michael had been taking excellent care of me lately. I’d even made a few small videos of him cooking and tending to my flowers and plants and surprisingly, these clips had garnered quite a few fans online. Occasionally, feeling a bit restless, I’d decide to go out and buy groceries myself.

But I never expected to run into Amanda on one of these outings. A flashy red sports car pulled up beside me and there she was.

“It’s rare to see you these days,” she remarked, a smile playing on her lips. “Care to join me for dinner?”

Inside the restaurant, I watched as she took out her cell phone, constantly posing for photos. Her every gesture seemed designed to emphasize luxury. She was a completely different person from the Amanda I had seen two months ago. She removed her sunglasses, revealing her flawless makeup. Her long, slender fingers had been adorned with an elaborate manicure. I glanced at the menu and the prices were staggering—a single dish cost as much as a month’s living expenses for an average family.

I couldn't help but feel a bit taken aback. Amanda casually ordered a lobster that cost thousands of dollars, which was enough to shock even the restaurant owner into coming out to speak with us.

“Ladies, just so you know, we don't allow refunds here,” he said, eyeing the extravagant order with thinly veiled disbelief. "Are you sure you want this much?"

Amanda’s smile never wavered. “Oh, we can afford it,” she replied, glancing at me. “And if you can’t finish, Samantha, you can always take it home and reheat it. But next time, you’ll have to be quicker to enjoy a meal like this.” She laughed, clearly relishing her display of superiority.

The restaurant owner's expression soured, but he left us to arrange the meal.

When we finished eating, Amanda glanced at me as I gathered my belongings, clearly hesitant. I could tell she was worried I might dirty her brand-new car.

“No need to worry,” I said warmly. “Michael will come and pick me up. Thank you for the lovely meal.”

She seemed relieved. “You know, Samantha, I have a date to get to,” she said with a slight smirk before walking away.

I watched her back as she left and sighed softly. Then, I called Michael.

“Honey, can you pick me up at Yao’s restaurant on X Street?” I asked.

After a brief pause, I added, “And next time, maybe we should raise the prices of the ingredients we supply to Yao. You wouldn’t believe the markup he’s charging for our seafood—it's practically highway robbery.”