Revenge of the Thorn Rose: The best friend is the Worst Person

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.