I'm No Beggar for Love

After my death, my parents sign an organ donor consent form on my behalf. They have my corneas removed and transplanted onto their beloved adoptive daughter, Grace Lane. She later marries my brother, and they become a true family. Grace and I competed over everything in life, yet I ended up dying with nothing. Now that I've been given a chance to start over, I decide to live life without them. Surprisingly, I find myself getting a happy ending. Chapter 1 I was reborn, back to the day when Grace Lane arrived at my home. If my rebirth had occurred earlier, perhaps I could have prevented Grace's biological parents' deaths, or even desperately tried to stop my parents from adopting her. But now that she had already arrived at our home, no amount of protest would change anything. Grace was the daughter of Dad's mentor, a renowned painter who had his precious child late in life and cherished her like the apple of his eye. She displayed exceptional artistic talent but suffered from an unidentified eye condition that caused her vision to fluctuate, with the constant risk of blindness. Her parents had taken Grace to numerous doctors seeking treatment, but both died in an accident, leaving behind young Grace. Grace's childhood was tragic, so my parents immediately decided to treat her as their own daughter when they first saw her. She became even more important than their biological child, me. "Wendy, didn't you always want an older sister? From now on, Grace will be your sister. Aren't you happy?" Mom and Dad looked at me lovingly, hoping I would genuinely accept Grace. Seven-year-old me was genuinely happy in my previous life, believing I had gained another warm family member. I was willing to share my love with this gentle-faced girl. Yet I never imagined Grace to be a thief who didn't want to share my love—she wanted to steal it all. "Wendy, I know you're a sensible girl. Grace isn't well. Although you're younger, we need you to help us care for her. Can you do that?" Dad asked. Tears were already forming in Grace's eyes before I could answer. "Mr. and Mrs. Lane, I know it must be hard for Wendy to accept me. Who would want to share their family's love with someone else? Don't worry, I can go back to the orphanage." Sometimes I truly suspected that Grace had also been reborn. How could an eight-year-old girl be so manipulative? I hadn't expressed any opposition, yet she had already labeled me jealous. Mom wiped Grace's tears away tenderly. "Don't cry, Grace. It's not good for your eyes. And why are you still calling us Mr. and Mrs. Lane? From today on, we're Mom and Dad." Grace lifted her delicate little face, tears still clinging to her eyelashes. Her expression of unexpected gratitude would make anyone pity her. "I have a mom and dad now," she sobbed. In that moment, the three of them embraced and cried together. No one remembered to ask for my opinion. Grace just had that kind of power. My parents had Grace and me sleep in the same room that night. I lay quietly, unable to fall asleep, calculating how to become independent and leave this home as soon as possible. After everything that happened in my previous life, I understood that from the moment Grace invaded our family, Dad, Mom, and my brother, Jake, all became her exclusive possessions. Grace carefully got out of bed late at night. I squinted, pretending to be asleep, and watched as she headed straight for my parents' bedroom. Chapter 2 "Mom, Dad, it's so dark. My eyes hurt so badly. I'm so scared," Grace sobbed. My parents were blinded by sympathy. They didn't stop to wonder how Grace could have found their bedroom so easily in such an unfamiliar environment and during a sudden eye flare-up. They just held Grace tenderly, their own anxieties mirrored in their tearful eyes. "Don't be afraid, Grace. We're right here." Grace trembled as she nestled into Mom's embrace, appearing thoroughly frightened. "Mom, Dad, can I really stay in this family? Earlier, Wendy..." Grace whimpered. My heart sank when I overheard this. Dad burst into my room and yanked me out of bed while I was still pretending to sleep the next moment later. "What did you say to Grace? How can you be so inconsiderate? Grace has been sickly since childhood and has such a tragic past. Can't you just give way to her a little?" "Don't be like that. Wendy's still young. She'll understand with some guidance!" Mom verbally restrained Dad but continued holding Grace tightly, showing no intention of coming to protect me. Eventually, they took Grace back to their bedroom and left me standing outside in my thin nightgown. Mom used to check on me every night, tucking me in before leaving. They seemed to have forgotten that I was only a seven-year-old child who also feared the dark and the cold, and at an age when I needed parental love the most. Grace often did this in my previous life. She'd first pretend her eye condition was flaring up, then take advantage of my saintly parents' compassionate nature to fabricate lies that tarnished my reputation. I gradually became aware of the threat even as a young child. I had transformed in my parents' eyes from a sweet, adorable daughter into a "bad girl" since her arrival. So I began secretly competing with Grace, comparing myself to her in everything. Whatever Grace had, I had to have it too. Grace excelled at putting on an act in front of others—appearing gentle, timid, and always yielding—making my parents feel they owed her even more. I competed with Grace my entire life, but I could never win against her. Even Jake, who once adored me the most, fell under Grace's spell. Everyone in the art circle knew that the Lane family had a pitifully talented adopted daughter named Grace and a jealous, bullheaded biological daughter named Wendy. I decided to stop competing with Grace in this new life. I would live the life I truly wanted. Early the next morning, Grace's and my parents' cheerful voices drifted from the dining room. I quietly walked downstairs to find Grace sitting in my seat, using my favorite tableware. The previously harmonious atmosphere suddenly broke upon seeing me. It was as if I were the intruder in their family. Mom's face flashed with embarrassment. "Wendy, you're up early today. Grace doesn't have her own tableware yet, so she's using yours. Would you mind using Jake's set?" "No thanks. I don't like using things that belong to others." Everyone knew I was criticizing Grace when they heard my words. Dad, still angry about my "bullying" of Grace yesterday, transformed from his usually kind demeanor to looking extremely displeased. I glanced at the milk, sandwiches, bacon, and eggs on the table. Grace liked all of these things. Meanwhile, I was lactose intolerant and usually had oatmeal for breakfast. Chapter 3 "Oh, I forgot you can't drink milk. I'll get you almond milk in a moment," Mom hurriedly intervened, afraid of revealing that she cared more for her adopted daughter than me. Dad slammed his cup on the table and scolded me irritably, "There's no need for all these special requests! You've spoiled her too much. "She's just a child and already acts like she rules the house! We need to take Grace to arrange her school transfer soon. We don't have time to waste!" If this had been my former self, I would have been heartbroken by these words and thrown a tantrum. Yet now, I feel only numbness. I quietly sat in the corner of the table and noticed Grace eating with her head down, a smug smile playing at the corners of her lips. Yet when she looked up again, her little face was filled with sadness. "Dad, please don't talk to Wendy like that. She's not like me. She'd been cherished and protected since she was little. It's natural for her to be a bit willful. It shows how much you love her." My saintly parents were once again moved to tears. Perhaps they wondered how such an angelic little girl could exist in this world. Meanwhile, I was cast as the spoiled child who had everything handed to her since birth, yet still couldn't behave properly. When they looked at me, their eyes reflected nothing but profound disappointment. Nonetheless, I didn't care. I had practically severed ties with my parents in my previous life, and I no longer cared how they saw me. I could easily please Grace if I played the role of a mindless, easily controlled little sister. Then I would still be Mom and Dad's good daughter, able to pick up the scraps of attention left over from what they gave Grace. But I would let Grace know that the family love and affection she had schemed so hard to obtain meant nothing to me. I had already vacated my original room when they returned home as a "family of three" after completing the school transfer procedures. I moved all my belongings to the unused nanny's quarters. I didn't intentionally yield to Grace; I just wanted to preserve my private space. Dad gently patted my head and said, "You're so considerate, Wendy. You're truly a good daughter of mine." These words might have pleased a young child, but I heard the subtext, having lived through this once before. I would only be worthy of being his "good daughter" if I sympathized with Grace in everything like they did, sacrificing my own happiness to accommodate her. Grace barged into my room uninvited to look around. Her little face suddenly turned pale when she saw the complete art set my parents had bought for me. She weakly collapsed into Mom's arms, crying. "I wish I could draw carefree like Wendy," she sobbed. Mom looked at me uncomfortably. She hesitated for a long time and finally said, "I'm sorry, Wendy, but could you put away your art supplies for now? To be considerate of Grace's feelings?" There it was again. My living space had been continuously compressed since Grace's appearance, until eventually I wasn't even allowed to have my own hobbies and dreams. It was the same in my previous life. Since Grace's eyes weren't good and she couldn't draw for extended periods, I was also forced to reduce my drawing time repeatedly. Despite being the daughter of a painter, I couldn't freely purchase art supplies or attend training classes. It was simply because it would make Grace sad to see them. Yet Grace could nestle in Dad's arms and learn to paint with his hand guiding hers. Each of her works was framed exquisitely, while my paintings could only be hidden at the very bottom of my art box. Chapter 4 The situation culminated at the critical moment when we both took our art university entrance exams. Grace supposedly had a sudden vision problem during the test and couldn't complete it. She then switched our names when submitting our papers. When the admission results came out, I immediately recognized that the excellent test paper bearing Grace's name was actually mine. I begged Mom and Dad to support me, but they just held Grace, who was crying hysterically, and advised me to be more generous. "Wendy, you can always retake the exam next year, but Grace doesn't have much time left. You know she could go blind at any moment!" "Grace has had such a pitiful life. Just give in to her this once! You'll definitely pass next year!" They made it sound so easy. Who knew how many hours I had secretly practiced, drawing late into the night until I nearly ruined my eyes because my natural talent didn't match Grace's? I broke down and shouted, "Isn't it enough that she's stolen my parents? Does she have to steal my life too? Give me back my spot, or I'll leave this family forever!" My defiance didn't bring any remorse from my parents—just an angry slap from Dad. "If Grace's eyes weren't sick, do you think you could ever beat her? You have no artistic talent whatsoever. You'd be at the bottom of the class even if you got into art school!" I held my stinging cheek, unable to believe these words had come from my biological father's mouth. In the end, Grace took my place at the art university. Meanwhile, I became the laughingstock of everyone in our social circle. I was the girl who lost to her adopted sister with impaired vision. I descended into a life of mediocrity when my artistic dreams were shattered. I had already lost my passion for painting in this new life. So, I threw the entire art set into the trash in front of my parents. Dad's face darkened instantly, but they knew they were in the wrong and just awkwardly left with Grace. Jake, who usually studied abroad, came home for a family reunion when summer vacation arrived. He also came back mainly to meet our legendary new sister, Grace. Just like in my previous life, Grace completely enchanted Jake from their first meeting. She had covered her eyes with a cloth, pretending to be blind as she fumbled her way through the hall. She then "coincidentally" fell right into Jake's arms during their first encounter. Grace blushed and said sweetly, "Because I don't know when I might go blind, I want to learn to live in darkness first so that I won't burden Mom, Dad, and you in the future." Grace was so clever with her words. She subtly excluded me while hinting to Jake that we didn't get along. The young and impulsive Jake was speechless with emotion. The girl before him was as pitiable as the pure-hearted heroine from a drama. He immediately vowed to take care of Grace for the rest of his life. My parents suggested that we all go out for a day of fun to welcome Jake home. I didn't want to join them. After all, what did their perfect family of four have to do with me, the temperamental, jealous, difficult daughter that no one loved? Even then, Grace had to make things difficult for me. She hid in a corner, shedding delicate tears. "Mom, Dad, you should just take Jake and Wendy without me. I would only spoil your family reunion." Jake became anxious and gently wiped away Grace's tears. Chapter 5 "Why would you say that? We're family," Jake insisted. Grace pretended to shy away from Jake's hand while casting a timid glance at me, as if silently accusing me of something. Jake immediately shot me a vicious look. "Wendy! Why are you bullying Grace? How could you become this kind of person? You were never like this before!" What kind of person had I become, exactly? The ones who had changed were them. Mom, who once thought of me first in everything; Dad, who was strict but gentle; and Jake, who always protected me, had all become strangers to me. I smiled coldly, looking straight into Jake's eyes as I answered, "Why don't you ask Grace? How exactly have I bullied her? I gave her my room—what more could she want?" Grace grew nervous at my question, instinctively avoiding my gaze. Her fearful demeanor further ignited Jake's protective instincts, and he shouted at me without restraint. "It's that superior attitude of yours that hurts her! Grace just arrived in our family, so it's only right that you accommodate her!" Suddenly, I became the enemy who needed to be vanquished, while Jake transformed into the prince protecting his princess. My saintly parents only took sides as usual. "Wendy, your brother rarely comes home. Don't make him angry. Quickly apologize to Jake and Grace." I looked at this family, whose favoritism knew no bounds, and replied firmly word by word, "Grace can have whatever she wants from me because I don't care about those things. But making me apologize? Not a chance!" I locked myself in my room after spitting these words, shutting out Jake's impotent rage and shouting. Later, the four of them spent a joyful day together. No one remembered to call home to check on me, nor did anyone remember to bring back food for me. I would have felt incredibly wronged and might have gone on a hunger strike or even run away from home to make my parents feel guilty if this had been my previous life. But now I knew such actions would be futile and would only hurt myself. I made myself a hearty bowl of instant noodles and spread out the supplementary textbooks I had secretly purchased. I had been working diligently to improve myself since my rebirth, never daring to slack off for a single day. I would carve out my own path through my own efforts in this life. I had also decided to study medicine after careful consideration. As a seven-year-old with the intelligence of my 20-something past life, I was far ahead of Grace academically. Grace's innocent victim act worked on my family with their savior complex, but it didn't work on school teachers—a failing grade was a failing grade. I ranked first in our year at the end of the term, while Grace was near the bottom. Every time she was called in by teachers for her poor performance, Grace would cry and claim her eye condition was acting up due to stress. Nonetheless, she stubbornly refused to transfer to a special school. She would throw the household into chaos during exam weeks. My saintly parents attended her parent-teacher conferences together to spare Grace's feelings and prevent her from being looked down upon by classmates due to her adopted status, even when mine was scheduled for the same day. My parents couldn't possibly be unaware that their favoritism had made me a target for mockery and bullying at school. My classmates called me the child who had life but no love. Chapter 6 Whenever they needed to sacrifice my needs for Grace, they would trot out the same brainwashing rhetoric I'd heard so many times I could recite it in my sleep. "Grace is sickly, and she had a pitiful past. Just give in to her." Nonetheless, I didn't care anymore, because knowledge gave me my greatest power. I used my free time to study ahead, and I skipped grades at 12 years old to become the youngest high school student in our city's history. Suddenly, I became a household name in town—everyone knew the Lane family had a genius daughter. Dad's phone was constantly ringing with calls from the upper echelon of society, people wanting their children to befriend me or even arrange engagements. But again, Dad canceled all those social gatherings to spare Grace's feelings. He never considered how beneficial connections in high society could be for my future. Of course—how could I possibly compare to his precious darling Grace? The day my acceptance letter arrived, the principal and newspaper reporters came to our home personally to deliver it. But all they saw were the backs of my parents as they hurriedly left. Grace would never allow me to capture my parents' attention. She'd merely claimed she had a headache, and my parents had rushed her to the hospital without even taking time to greet the principal. Despite having long been disillusioned with my parents, I still felt a twinge of hurt and helplessness in that moment. The principal, Kate Weber, looked at me deeply and said earnestly, "Our school doesn't normally have boarding students, but you can apply to the school in advance if you want to live on campus. I'll make arrangements for you." Ms. Weber's hand, which was gently stroking my head, was so tender. It had been so long since I'd felt care and concern from an adult that I couldn't help shedding tears in front of her. I then gained the two people who would truly matter in my life because of those tears. As the new school term approached, I eagerly moved to the dormitory, away from this home devoid of warmth. On the day I left, Grace again dispatched my parents to the hospital. Though Jake was home on vacation, he showed no intention of helping me pack. He watched coldly as I bustled about, finally dropping a parting comment, "Finally, some peace in this house." I lifted my last suitcase into the cab without sparing Jake a glance. The room Ms. Weber had prepared for me was excellent. It was a comfortable studio apartment, seemingly converted from spare faculty housing. I spent a day making the dormitory clean and comfortable, then went to the bookstore to buy supplementary materials. High school coursework would be more demanding, and I needed to work even harder to outperform everyone. On the first official day of school, I faced the expected ostracism from other students. They'd heard the principal had made an exception to arrange dormitory housing for me and immediately labeled me as someone with connections. "Well, well, here comes the 12-year-old genius." "Is the prodigy scared of living alone in the dorm? Won't you cry for your mommy at night?" "Let's put the prodigy next to the water cooler. She might need to mix some baby formula between classes." These self-important students rejected me because my existence overshadowed their brilliance. Such bitter remarks might devastate a typical teenager, but they seemed childishly amusing to someone who had undergone a rebirth like me. Though young, I was tall for my age. I walked straight to a seat in the middle of the classroom and sat down. More discordant voices rose almost immediately. Chapter 7 "These privileged kids are different—they just have to pick the center seats." "Who could stand being her deskmate? The teachers would be watching us constantly." The students all scattered to the edges, leaving me alone in the middle. I kept my back ramrod straight as I turned a deaf ear to their mockery, calmly opening a supplementary textbook. Just then, someone pulled out the chair beside me and sat down. A boy extended his hand toward me. "Hi, are you Wendy Lane? Let me introduce myself—I'm Ethan Weber. Can I be your deskmate?" I discreetly sized up the boy. He had the clean-cut appearance of someone who'd be naturally popular. "Are you sure? Sitting with me might get you labeled as privileged too." He casually laughed, leaning in to whisper with a playful wink, "Ha, they wouldn't dare. I'm the principal's son." Only then did I notice that Ethan's features somewhat resembled Ms. Weber's. I guessed that Ms. Weber had anticipated my difficulty fitting in and had specifically asked Ethan to look after me. A warm feeling flowed through me. I would get along well with Ethan even if it were just for Ms. Weber's sake. After the first weekly test, my far superior scores silenced all my critics. Soon, people were swallowing their pride and asking me for help with their studies. My once uncomfortable high school life became secure and smooth. I was probably the only person left on the vast campus when the weekend came. I had planned to study diligently in the library, but Ethan unexpectedly knocked on my dormitory door. He and Ms. Weber knew I wouldn't be going home for the weekend and worried I might be lonely by myself, so they came specifically to invite me to lunch. Having lived so long with my family's favoritism and neglect, I especially treasured kindness from others. The amiable Ms. Weber and the humorous, talkative Ethan gave me a long-forgotten taste of family warmth. There really were people who would think of me and consider my feelings out there. I had spent every weekend with the Webers since I started school. Ms. Weber said having the discipline to study was good, but being too tense would hinder knowledge absorption. The Lanes were presumably quite happy without me—they hadn't even made a single phone call asking me to come home. I gradually opened up in my interactions with the Webers, rediscovering some of the innocence and vitality appropriate for my age. Ms. Weber even looked at me tenderly and said, "I've always wanted a daughter. I wish you were my daughter." No one knew how deeply those words affected me. That was because I had once overheard a conversation between my father and Grace in my previous life. "Grace, you have such artistic talent. How wonderful it would be if you were my biological daughter." My eyes welled up with tears again as I recalled this painful memory. Ethan panicked like a cat on a hot tin roof as he hurriedly wiped my tears with his sleeve. "It was just a joke! It's not like we're kidnapping you. Don't cry." However, Ms. Weber sensed my true emotions and couldn't help asking what had happened between my family and me. Ethan was so shocked that his jaw nearly dropped after hearing the story about Grace. "Your parents abandoned their brilliant biological daughter for that drama queen of an adopted sister? Were they under some kind of spell?" Chapter 8 "Her eyes may be sick, but she's not blind. Why should everyone have to give way to her in everything?" Ms. Weber tapped Ethan on the forehead, warning him to be careful with his words. Then she pulled me into her arms, stroking my back like a mother would. "You can be my goddaughter from now on. You're such a wonderful kid—if they don't want you, I do." I buried my face in Ms. Weber's embrace and sobbed uncontrollably. Meanwhile, Ethan muttered under his breath beside us, "If she becomes your daughter, wouldn't that make us siblings?" After that, I spent the most relaxed period of my life in high school. Even during winter and summer breaks, I used studying as an excuse to stay in the dormitory most of the time. My biological parents couldn't be bothered with me anyway. I heard they were busy taking Grace to various doctors while shuttling her between different tutoring classes. They were so occupied that they half-abandoned the family business and significantly reduced my allowance. Fortunately, I had already achieved financial independence and could live quite comfortably even without relying on the Lane family. I had an eye for investing in artwork from a young age. However, I was gaslit by my father and Grace in my previous life, believing that mixing art with money was shameful. They talked a good game, but secretly sold paintings I had identified as valuable, without sharing a penny with me. Having seen through their facade early on, I asked the trustworthy Ms. Weber to help me invest. Watching the numbers in my bank account steadily increase gave me unprecedented peace of mind. Having the ability to support oneself truly was the most important thing. This weekend, Ms. Weber and Ethan had specifically set aside time to take me on a picnic at a nearby park. She went to park the car while Ethan and I went ahead to secure a spot on the lawn. I had been looking forward to this day, but my good mood vanished when I saw the Lane family approaching. Grace walked in front, arm-in-arm with Jake, followed by my saintly parents, whom I hadn't seen in ages. Their bright smiles froze when they spotted me. Grace timidly hid behind Jake as if I might devour her as soon as she saw me. This delicate act provoked Jake's protective instincts, and his gaze toward me instantly turned hostile. "You claimed you were studying all this time, but you were actually lying." Grace noticed Ethan standing beside me and bit her lip with a hint of jealousy. "Wendy, are you on a date with your boyfriend? Mom and Dad have been so worried about you, yet you don't even come home during breaks. Instead, you lie to us. You've truly changed since starting high school..." My parents also looked at Ethan and me in shock. "Wendy, how are you already deceiving your parents for a boy at such a young age? Are you trying to worry us to death? When will you ever be as obedient and well-behaved as Grace?" The four of them hurled accusations at me, not even giving me a chance to explain. Although Ethan had heard about the Lane family's favoritism, he was still bewildered by their coordinated attack.