My daughter sees me as her enemy. I enrolled her in piano lessons, and she accused me of wanting her to perform like a puppet for others' entertainment. When she wanted to meet her online boyfriend, I firmly opposed, and she claimed I was restricting her freedom. Despite winning a gold medal in a piano competition with a promising future, she publicly declared that I only saw her as a money-making tool. Later, when I had a heart attack, she flushed my medication down the drain, saying I should have died long ago. After being reborn, I sold the expensive piano and stopped paying for her tutoring. I watched her fall from grace without a shred of empathy. She regretted it. ... I opened my eyes to a message from the piano teacher. "Qingqing's mom, it's time to pay the tutoring fee for the second half of the year. As usual, it's forty-eight thousand yuan." "Also, has she been troubled lately? She's been secretly playing with her phone in class, not practicing seriously, and hasn't completed her assignments for two weeks in a row." "At this rate, it will be difficult for her to even qualify for the national piano competition, let alone win an award." "If you have time, talk to her. She needs to focus more; her future is what's most important." I stared at the familiar words on my phone screen, my breathing unsteady. In my previous life, I had received these messages too. When I asked my daughter about it, I learned she had found a boyfriend ten years older than her in a game and was planning to meet him. She was still a minor, and falling for an online fantasy was likely to lead to deceit, so I couldn't let her jump into such a dangerous situation. She then erupted in anger, threatening me harshly that if I didn't let her date, she wouldn't live, and she even smashed the nearly new piano with a wrench. That piano cost nearly a hundred thousand yuan and was a gift for her sixteenth birthday. In the end, I didn't agree with her. I spent a fortune repairing the piano, made her uninstall the game, paid for her tutoring, and supervised her practice daily. After much effort, she won the gold medal at the piano competition six months later, earning admiration from several judges and a guaranteed admission to a prestigious art school. A promising future awaited her. Watching my daughter shining in the spotlight, I felt immense pride. Unexpectedly, during the post-competition interview, she tearfully accused me of wrongdoing. She said I was the person she hated most. She claimed that my reason for making her learn piano was to have her perform like a puppet for others' entertainment. She accused me of driving away her father and grandmother, preventing her from seeing her beloved family. She said I forced her to break up, threatening her with death. She claimed I was so poor that I pinned all my hopes on her, aiming to turn her into a money-making tool. Her hoarse voice moved the reporters present. Seeing the interview on television, I was overcome with rage, leading to a heart attack. She was right beside me, and with a sinister satisfaction of revenge, she flushed all my medication down the drain. "Why bother with medication? You're better off dead." Those were the last words I heard in my final moments. My soul floated above, watching her cry as she called emergency services to take my body away for futile resuscitation. In front of the media, she cried her heart out, winning countless sympathies. The prestigious art school broke its rules to waive all her tuition fees and promised her a yearly scholarship of two hundred thousand yuan. A renowned pianist also expressed a desire to adopt her as a goddaughter, planning to send her abroad for further studies. Soon, she reunited with her biological father after years apart, posting intimate photos and receiving blessings from netizens. And me? Netizens said my death was well deserved, what goes around comes around. My ashes were casually buried in a dilapidated cemetery on the outskirts, where visitors would spit as a way of marking their visit. My husband cheated and divorced me. Fearing Erick's family would bully my daughter, I left with nothing to fight for her custody. To support her piano education, I worked during the day and took on two more jobs at night. I feared her talent would be wasted, so I spent a fortune on the best teacher for her. I used years of sweat and devotion to elevate her to greatness, only for her to turn around and trample me into the dust. Such is the bond between mother and daughter. I typed a reply to the piano teacher. "Sorry, but I won't be paying Qingqing's tutoring fee for the next term." "If she wants to continue learning, let her father pay." Since she never appreciated my efforts and instead saw me as an enemy, then so be it. In this life, I give her freedom.

I slowly exhaled, stood up, and looked around. This was the home I lived in before my divorce in my previous life, shared with my daughter, husband, and mother-in-law—a total of four people. At this moment, my daughter was at school, my husband was away on a business trip, and my mother-in-law had gone out for her daily dance exercise in the park and hadn't returned yet. The house wasn't large—three bedrooms and a living room. My mother-in-law occupied one room, my daughter another, and the third was filled with my daughter's piano and books. My husband, Cory, was always busy with work and rarely came home due to frequent business trips. Whenever he did, he would stay in the room with my mother-in-law, who would then move to share the largest bed with my daughter. As for me, I slept on the sofa bed in the living room, which was folded up during the day and pulled out at night, making me feel like an outsider in my own home. My personal space was reduced to a small compartment in the room with the piano. Even so, my daughter often complained that my belongings took up too much space and wanted to throw all my clothes out. The house was supposed to be mine after Cory's affair. However, Cory and his mistress Erick were cunning, and my mother-in-law added fuel to the fire. At the time, in order to secure custody of my daughter, I had no choice but to give up the house and leave with nothing, moving with my daughter to a rental apartment close to her school. My daughter often quarreled with me over this. She believed the house rightfully belonged to Cory and accused me of dragging her into suffering because I insisted on divorcing. She frequently accused me of withholding the child support payments, claiming I gave her too little allowance. But the truth was, Cory never paid a dime in child support. She thought I was preventing her from seeing Cory because I was afraid he would take her away from me. In reality, I didn't want her to witness Cory and his mistress Erick's seemingly perfect life after marriage, especially with a long-awaited son on the way, completely disregarding her. She always thought Cory was the best and adored my mother-in-law as well. What she didn't know was that Cory and my mother-in-law never approved of me because I had a daughter and failed to continue the family line with a son. Despite my good intentions being taken for granted, I dedicated half my life to her, only to end up misunderstood and vilified. It was both tragic and absurd. But fortunately, I was given a second chance at life. In this new life, I have the chance to choose my own path. I called the music store and made a note to sell the new piano at a discounted price. In my previous life, I spent all the money I painstakingly saved over the years to buy a new piano for my daughter. Her old piano was too worn out, constantly out of tune, and couldn't be fixed despite numerous repairs. In six months, she would be participating in a national piano competition, a pivotal moment where she could soar to new heights. I couldn't let a broken piano bury her musical talent. But what about her? The carefully selected gift I gave her was casually dismissed. Since she didn't want it, I decided to take it back. Just then, my daughter returned from school, her backpack slung over her shoulder. She was smiling sweetly at her phone, cooing, "I'm home, see you later, brother." But her smile vanished the moment she saw me, her eyes filled with disdain as if I were something unpleasant she'd rather avoid. I was standing in the room with the piano when she saw me and shouted, "What are you doing here, you old woman? Are you going to watch me play the piano again? Isn't that disgusting?" "I've told you, I don't want to play the piano. I don't like it! I refuse! Why do you keep forcing me to play that stupid piano?" "Other parents are so open-minded, why can't you be? They let their kids watch TV, read novels, and play games after school. I practice piano every day, and yet you still rush me to bed when I want to play a bit more at night!" Even though I had decided not to interfere with my daughter anymore, her words still pierced my heart like a knife, causing an uncontrollable ache. I still remembered when she was little and told me she wanted to be a pianist, her eyes filled with dreams. Cory was unwilling to spend money on her, and my mother-in-law called her a drain on resources. Only I, under the pressure of the entire family's disapproval, spent a fortune to send her to piano lessons, just to help her fulfill her dream. And now she says she doesn't like it? That I forced her to play? I asked her to practice for an hour every night to maintain her skills for the national piano competition, and that was depriving her of freedom? Encouraging her to practice more and get into a top-tier university, wasn't that for her own good? She played games until two in the morning, yet had to get up at six for school. Was I wrong to tell her to stop playing and go to bed? Now, I no longer felt anger, only a deep, chilling disappointment. I spoke calmly, "You're right. I won't force you to practice the piano anymore."

"...Huh? What?" My daughter was skeptical, unable to believe I could say something like that. I repeated my words clearly, "I said, I won't force you to practice piano anymore." "Not only that, I won't make you do anything you don't like." "I won't check if you've finished your homework, and I won't nag you to go to bed when you're playing games." "If you want to date, whoever you want to date, however you want to date, I won't interfere." "I won't control you anymore. Do whatever you want." "From now on, I'll give you the freedom you've always wanted." I made it very clear to her. She could tell that I wasn't speaking out of spite, nor was I using reverse psychology. I was sincere. Her lips curled up uncontrollably. She asked, "Can I quit piano lessons too?" I smiled and replied, "Of course, I didn't plan to pay for them anymore anyway." Her expression changed slightly, as if something felt off, but she didn't dwell on it. Right now, gaining benefits was her top priority. "I have a boyfriend in the game, he really loves me. I'm planning to meet him this weekend. You won't stop me, right?" she asked again. I nodded, "Of course not. I support your pursuit of true love." She listed a few more things, and I agreed to each one, promising not to interfere. Only then did she return to her room, satisfied, tossing her backpack to the floor and sprawling on her bed to play games on her phone. "I'm so hungry. I want a Chinese dish for dinner. Make it quick!" she shouted. I ignored her, reclining on the sofa as I contacted a lawyer friend to draft a divorce agreement, printing it out with the home printer. Tonight, my husband would return from a business trip, just in time to sign it. As for dinner, whoever wants to cook can cook. I was planning to order takeout to celebrate my new beginning. After finishing two rounds of her game, she came out, hungrier than before, only to find the dining table bare. She immediately lashed out at me, "I said I wanted a Chinese dish tonight. Didn't you hear me? Are you deaf as well as forgetful?" I continued scrolling through videos, not even bothering to look up, "I told you, I won't take care of you anymore. Whether you're hungry or not is none of my concern." She shrieked, "Have you lost your mind, you crazy lady? If you don't cook, who will?" I shrugged, "Whoever wants to cook can cook. I'm not doing it." Cooking for myself is fine. Cooking for an ungrateful person? Sorry, I refuse. Just then, the doorbell rang. The delivery of Hong Kong-style dim sum had arrived. In her shock and confusion, I retrieved the takeout and began unpacking the containers. Pork congee, shrimp dumplings, crab roe shumai, crispy pan-fried dumplings... These were all dishes I usually refrained from ordering to save money. She sat across the table, bluntly asking, "Which one is mine?" I replied, "I ordered these for myself. None of it is for you." Her eyes widened in anger, "Then what am I supposed to eat? You crazy lady!" "I knew there was a catch to your sudden change. You're just using reverse psychology to force me to practice piano. I'm done with this!" "No wonder Dad doesn't like coming home. Nobody can stand you!" "Give me some cash. I want to go out for a seafood buffet dinner!" I picked up a shrimp dumpling, savoring it, "Your dad has money. Ask him for it."