They Dumped Me—Now They’re Reincarnated and Obsessed? - Chapter 1

Breaking News!

Top-tier celebrity Yan Ze has just announced his marriage and posted a photo of the marriage certificate on Weibo—causing the site to crash instantly.

Within moments, his mysterious wife was thoroughly “dug out” by netizens.

——Xie Tingxue, his assistant and high school classmate.

And that wasn’t all. Her family background and personal history were exposed across the internet:

“Her mother worked as a maid for a local government official’s family. That woman wasn’t decent—already had a man at home and still tried to seduce the official and become his mistress. Got caught and was thrown out naked by the official’s wife! Totally true! The official’s surname is Mei—just look it up. Everyone local knows!”

“Xie Tingxue’s biological dad went to jail. She didn’t go to college after high school—just a trashy little dropout. Probably even worked at shady clubs!”

“I have relatives in the industry. After Xie got together with Yan Ze, she bought her mom a villa back home. The mother and daughter have been living off Yan Ze ever since—luxury house, luxury cars, and always acting arrogant and calculating.”

“Here’s the real tea: this assistant? Not simple. Her mom was a mistress, and she’s one too. Ruthless schemer! Yan Ze was clearly dating the rising star Yan Yaru, and they had a thing since high school. They auditioned together, debuted together—everyone shipped them! That b*tch Xie just swooped in and stole him!”

“Ugh! I’m sick. What a disgusting woman. Yan Ze, marry whoever, just not her. It has to be Yan Yaru!”

“Zeze, don’t fall for her lies!! You’ve been hexed! Our Yan Yaru is way better!”

“Is she pregnant or something? Is that how she stole him?!”

“I was her classmate in high school. Xie Tingxue was infamous. Always faking innocence and weakness—two-faced to the core!”

“Disgusting homewrecker!!!”

——

Dragon City.

Beneath a luxury apartment complex, a petite woman lay in a pool of bl00d, her white chiffon dress soaked through. She looked like a broken-winged butterfly—beautiful, but fragile. Pale brows, soft lips, her features almost translucent.

In her hand, she clutched a white phone. The screen blinked, frozen on an unsent message:

“Yan Ze, I’m sorry…”

Upstairs, the balcony doors were wide open. The wind billowed the curtains as a man stood staring at his hands… then looked down in horror at the scene below. His expression twisted—and he fled.

——

Yancheng No. 1 Broadcasting Hall.

During the Mid-Autumn Gala’s first rehearsal, a livestreamed backstage interview was underway. The hottest guest of the day was none other than the trending Yan Ze.

Yan Ze was striking—sharp features, peach blossom eyes, aloof yet radiant.

But off-camera, he was friendly, funny, humble to the crew, never acted superior—one of the reasons fans adored him.

As the livestream comments scrolled nonstop with “Do you know she lied to you?!” and “Dump that woman!”

The host asked with a smile, “When’s the wedding? Can you share a little detail?”

Yan Ze smiled faintly, his charm undiminished, eyes genuinely joyful:

“Soon. My wife loves snow, so we’re planning a winter ceremony.”

“Will it be open to the media?”

“Probably not. Just family and old classmates…”

Before he could finish, his agent rushed over, whispered urgently into his ear.

The agent’s face was pale.

Yan Ze froze, confused.

“Where is she?” he asked quietly.

“City Central Hospital,” the agent replied in a low voice.

Yan Ze stood still for a beat—then sprinted out of the studio like a madman.

The media panicked and chased after him:

“Breaking! Yan Ze just ran out mid-interview!”

——

At the hospital, Yan Ze stumbled out of the car, falling three times before making it through the entrance. His hands were bloodied, but he didn’t notice.

“Where’s Xie Tingxue?”

No answer.

“Where’s the… morgue?” he asked again, voice eerily calm. But his body trembled.

Livestream cameras caught the moment, stunned into silence.

A nurse guided him. Yan Ze’s eyes were red, his expression vacant—somewhere between devastation and madness.

The filming was shut down by hospital security. But the moment went viral instantly.

People recalled a police report from three hours earlier:

A woman in a luxury community had jumped from a building. The age and surname matched—likely Xie Tingxue.

The topic #XieTingxueSuicide trended immediately.

All those gossip posts calling her a homewrecker and a street rat started disappearing. Marketing accounts switched gears, now pushing #SayNoToCyberbullying, and authorities confirmed the incident as a direct result of online harassment.

——

In the morgue, Yan Ze stared blankly at the covered body on the table.

He slowly walked over and gently lifted the sheet.

“Is this her?” the officer asked.

He looked at her pale, bloodstained face—at the white dress she’d carefully chosen—and shook his head wildly.

“No… no… it’s not her…”

But the officer had to confirm:

“We need identification. Is this Xie Tingxue?”

Yan Ze stood frozen. Then, wordlessly, he nodded.

He took her icy hand and collapsed to his knees, sobbing.

The police handed him a shattered white phone in a plastic bag—it was still vibrating.

“This was in her hand when she fell. We’re investigating the incident. Do you know her passcode?”

Yan Ze nodded numbly. His fingers trembled as he typed in his birthday.

The screen unlocked.

“Yan Ze, I’m sorry…”

She never got to send it.

His vision blurred with tears.

“Perhaps the pressure online was too much…” the officer tried to comfort.

Yan Ze curled up, holding her phone tightly, crying in silence.

His agent entered, whispered something to the officer, and they quietly stepped out.

——

Xie Tingxue was dead.

Yan Ze cradled her body. She felt as light as a feather.

“Why…” he whispered. “Was it me? Tingxue… did I do this to you?”

The phone kept vibrating, notifications pouring in:

[Mom]: Tingxue! Call me, please!

[Mom]: I saw what people are saying online. I’m fine! It’s all lies! Don’t worry!

[Mom]: I saw something happened on TV—what’s going on? Don’t scare me!

[Mom]: Is Yan Ze with you? I can’t reach him or his agent! Are you two okay?!

[Mom]: Xiao Xue! Let Mom know you’re safe, please!!

“I was wrong,” Yan Ze murmured, holding her cold body. “I was impulsive. I shouldn’t have announced it… I thought I did everything right. I didn’t think… I didn’t think it would be like this…”

He stared into nothingness. After a long silence, he said softly:

“Tingxue… I promised, when I proposed, that we’d always be together…

Let me stay with you. Please?”

The door creaked open. Yan Ze looked up, dazed.

A man in a long coat stood there, dusty and travel-worn.

His expression twisted in grief before he forced calm and addressed the officers:

“I’m Mei Jian. I work at Yancheng University. Yes… you contacted me earlier. What happened?”

The police flipped through a record book and asked, “We’re still investigating the cause of the incident. Earlier, we contacted you based on the emergency contact listed by the deceased. Are you her brother?”

The man froze for a moment, clearly surprised, but quickly composed himself and nodded. “Yes. We were high school classmates… and used to live next door.”

The officers let him through.

Inside, Yan Ze sat by the table, holding Xie Tingxue tightly in his arms, unmoving.

He stared blankly at Mei Jian. At first, his gaze was dazed. Slowly, recognition set in, and his lips curled into a cold, scornful sneer, laced with resentment.

His voice was hoarse and eyes bloodshot. “Oh. Mei Jian.”

Mei Jian looked at the woman in Yan Ze’s arms for a long time. When he finally spoke, his voice was rough.

“I heard on the radio on my way over… they said she jumped from the building…”

His face pale, he stepped closer. “Yan Ze, let me see her.”

Yan Ze raised his eyes, gaze sharp as blades. “Get lost.”

The two men locked eyes.

Mei Jian clenched his fists.

“Yan Ze, don’t force me to lose my temper in front of her…” He removed his glasses and rubbed the bridge of his nose. “You know how much I meant to Xiao Xue. Just let me see her… one last time.”

But Yan Ze didn’t loosen his grip. His reply was cold and to the point:

“You’re not worthy.”

Mei Jian exploded. “And you are?!”

He grabbed Yan Ze by the collar. “Tell me then—who pushed her into the public eye, who left her to face the venom of your rabid fans all alone?! Did you even see what they said about her?! Yan Ze, you’re trash.

Her death is on you. Those rumors, those lies, all of it—it was you, your damn fame, that drove her to this!”

Yan Ze gave a bitter chuckle. Gently, he laid Xie Tingxue down, his gaze tender.

“Is it noisy, Tingxue? Don’t worry, I’ll take care of the problem for you…”

He stood up and grabbed Mei Jian by the collar, forcefully shoving him out the door.

Mei Jian stumbled, his glasses flying off. A vein throbbed on his forehead.

Yan Ze loomed over him.

“I’ve been sick of you for a long time. I tolerated it for her sake. But now that she’s gone—I’m going to make sure you know one thing: you’re not even qualified to die with her. You know what you said, what you did. You left her with nothing and tossed her aside without a second thought. You—who hurt her so deeply—have no right to see her now. How dare you show your face here?!”

Mei Jian’s voice cracked with rage as he stood up, barely restraining himself.

“And what about you? What are you, huh? Just some thug who got famous because of his face?! Where were you when she needed you?! Why did the police call me instead of her so-called husband? Because when she jumped off that building, you were in front of cameras, smiling—selling that fake charm to millions of fans, while the woman who loved you was being torn apart online!”

Yan Ze’s bloodshot eyes brimmed with tears.

“You know the truth too, Yan Ze. You know who really caused her death!” Mei Jian shouted.

“If it had been me by her side, she wouldn’t be lying in that morgue now, drowned in your fans’ poison and their hate!”

Then Yan Ze suddenly laughed—furiously. With slim fingers, he unbuttoned the top two buttons of his shirt.

“Fine. Yes, it was my fault. But before I bury her, I’ll beat you—you, the bastard who hurt her—so I can fulfill her last wish!”

Without another word, Yan Ze kicked Mei Jian. The two men clashed violently.

Staff rushed in to separate them, but the men were like wild beasts—grieving lions, eyes red with fury.

Words were useless now. Neither man could hear reason.

Xie Tingxue was dead.

The woman who had been as gentle and dazzling as a snowflake, who smiled so sweetly, whose eyes sparkled when she laughed… was gone.

And these two men, both consumed by grief and rage, were now trying to strangle the other—each blaming the other for her pain.

It took all the strength of the police to finally tear them apart.

Yan Ze was in a daze. Through the fog, he vaguely heard his agent asking a doctor,

“Should we give them sedatives? They’ve both gone mad… Yeah, they’re love rivals. We don’t know this Professor Mei, but Miss Xie mentioned him before… Alright, give him one too.”

Two sedatives were administered, and the men gradually calmed down.

Yan Ze closed his eyes, and the chaos around him slowly faded away.

In the distance, a train whistle shrieked, growing louder.

He opened his eyes.

In a blur of white, he saw Xie Tingxue in a school uniform, her hair in a ponytail, her arm linked with Mei Jian’s.

Mei Jian turned around, grinning smugly:

“Yan Ze, I was first. You can’t replace me. Tingxue likes—”

“GET OUT!!” Yan Ze screamed, suddenly jerking awake, his head splitting with pain.

A humid, nauseatingly familiar smell filled his nose.

Chipped windows. Cracked ceiling. The worn-down bed…

Yan Ze blinked and looked down.

A group of scruffy boys with flashy haircuts and cigarettes in their mouths were staring at him through long bangs.

“Bro Ze, what the hell are you yelling about?”

Yan Ze stared at their familiar punk hairstyles in disbelief.

From the hallway came the blaring tune of “Where the Peach Blossoms Bloom,” echoing dramatically through the school campus. The sudden loudness startled Yan Ze.

It was the afternoon wake-up bell at Haishi High.

The punk boys stubbed out their cigarettes and tossed them into the dorm toilet drain.

“Come on, come on! Afternoon classes!”

“Let’s go, Bro Ze—sleep in class instead!” one of them joked, slapping his bunk.

Yan Ze: “…”

He turned to look at the calendar hanging beside the bed.

In bold print:

October 8, 2007.

2007?

Ten years ago?

Yan Ze: “…What the f*ck?”