📕The fake heir drove me to death; all thought it was tragedy—then I came back a ghost & hell began!

📖 Story Synopsis: After I was diagnosed with a terminal illness, not a single person in my family believed me. My parents mocked me with cold sarcasm, and Willow flaunted her affection with the fake young master right in front of me all day long. In my despair, I prepared to end my life. But suddenly, a stream of bullet comments appeared before my eyes. They read: Here we go again. Male leads in death-driven storytelling are all pathetic losers. Always fantasizing about using their death to punish their family and some trashy woman. What, you think dying will make them regret it? How spineless can you get? You’re already dead—so what if they regret it afterward, does that make you happy? That’s the most disgusting part of death-driven storytelling! I laughed. Who said death-driven storytelling couldn’t be satisfying? The next second, I wrote down a lethal curse, swallowed the talisman, and hanged myself right at the front gate of my home. When I opened my eyes again, I was floating in midair, radiating overwhelming resentment, smiling like a vengeful spirit. The bullet comments were stunned: Wait— why does it suddenly feel like chills are crawling down my spine? If you feel chills, that’s right. This is now a revenge power fantasy about a vengeful ghost!