The Obsession For A Boy
My cousin Quinn Scott lies in the bed opposite me, her pregnant belly swollen high, her pants pulled up nearly to her chest.
There was only one week left until her due date, and the way she touched her belly brimmed with resolute determination.
She had married Dylan Scott, the live-in son-in-law, and by agreement, the child would be considered part of the Lynn Family. She was single-mindedly intent on having a boy to firmly seize control of the Lynn Family's inheritance.
On this very day, in my previous life, I was slicing apples and handing them over just like this.
Back then, I had just found out I was pregnant. Sympathetic to her struggles, I took detours every day to bring her fresh fruit, peeling them spotless.
But that night, after she gave birth to a daughter naturally, she vented all her anger on me.
"Windy Lynn! Did you do this on purpose?" She sat on the bed in the postpartum care center, her hair wild and tangled like a bird's nest, her eyes bloodshot as if they might bleed.
"You know I want a son! What does giving me an apple mean?—you're just waiting for me to have a daughter!"
Back then, I was still naive, thinking she was just overwhelmed by postpartum emotions, so I held her hand and tried to comfort her: "Cousin, things have changed, we no longer favor sons over daughters. Daughters are wonderful too."
But she jerked her hand away and stood outside my hospital ward every day, muttering that she wanted me to have a daughter too, so I could taste her bitterness.
Later, when I gave birth to a boy, she completely lost her mind.
That day, I had just finished feeding the baby when she and Dylan Scott stormed in.
"This boy should have been mine!" she hissed, digging her nails into my arm, the pain bringing tears to my eyes.
"Go to hell! I'll be his mother and inherit the Lynn Family's fortune!"
I desperately called out to Dylan Scott for help—after all, he was my cousin's husband; he should have some sense.
But he just stood there coldly watching, until Quinn Scott, unable to drag me any further, shouted, "Dylan! Are you blind? She's heavier than a pig; I can't lift her!"
Then she added, "Forgot? You still owe Windy Lynn a hundred thousand! If you don't finish her off, where will you get the money to pay back?"
Only then did Dylan Scott step forward, clasping my arms with hands as cold as ice. "Windy Lynn, don't blame me. Quinn and I will take good care of your child."
The last thing I saw were their cruel, twisted smiles—then I was thrown out of the seventeenth-floor window of the postpartum care center.
The wind whipped through my clothes, chilling me to the bone.
When I opened my eyes again, I was still in this hospital ward, the apple in my hand left unopened.
My heart pounded fiercely against my ribs, cold sweat dampening my bangs, as if the fall had just happened moments ago, still playing before my eyes.
"Windy, hand me the apple as soon as it's sliced." Quinn Scott frowned, speaking with undeniable entitlement.
"I'm carrying your future nephew; I need to nourish him properly."
I gazed at her face, slowly merging with the madness from my past life, and a sick churn rose in my stomach.
I withdrew my hand and shoved the apple chunks into my mouth.
The apple was sweet, its juice sliding down my throat, yet I could taste no sweetness—only a lingering bitterness filled my mouth.
"Why did you eat it all by yourself?" Ms. Bella pushed the door open and stepped inside. The moment she saw the apple in my hand, she burst into rage.
She slammed her bag onto the bedside table, her voice piercing like nails scraping glass: "Windy Lynn! Is this really how the Lynn Family treats a mother in labor? My daughter is carrying the Lynn Family's child, Dylan Scott is a live-in son-in-law, and yet here you are, gobbling it all up yourself!"
I took another bite of the apple, chewing slowly before I said, "Ms. Bella, eating an apple is a bad omen for having a daughter. Cousin wants a boy, so she mustn't touch it. She hasn't eaten a single apple during her pregnancy; the boy is bound to come."
Sure enough, the moment they heard "a boy," Quinn Scott and Bella's expressions softened immediately.
Quinn Scott proudly pushed out her belly and said, "Exactly! The doctor said my baby is strong, and a strong baby must be a boy!"
No sooner had she spoken than she suddenly cried out, "Ow," gripping the bedsheet tightly, her face turning pale instantly.
A thought crossed my mind—last time, it was exactly at this moment that her labor pains began.
The doctor hurried in, examined her, and smiled, saying, "It's nothing, just early signs of labor. Prepare some high-calorie food for the mother in labor, and she'll be able to enter the maternity ward tonight."
Quinn Scott's eyes sparkled instantly, "Doctor, can I have the spicy oil noodles downstairs? I've been craving them for so long!"
I quickly shook my head, "Cousin, no! Sour sons and spicy daughters, remember? The oil noodles are full of chili; what if it drives the son away? This critical moment is no time to take risks."
Quinn Scott quickly shook her hand in fright, her face etched with lingering fear: "Yes, yes, no spicy food! I almost forgot!"
She rubbed her stomach, frowning, "But my stomach is upset, and I can't eat sour food either. What should I do?"
After a while, her eyes lit up again: "Windy, go buy me a chocolate cake! Didn't the doctor say I need high calories?"
I shook my head again, feigning worry: "Cousin, only girls like sweets—how could a boy like sweets? If you eat it, your son might be upset."
Quinn Scott's face instantly drained of color, and she never brought up the cake again.
The hospital ward fell silent, broken only by the rumbling of her stomach.
She wore a pained expression, tossing and turning, unable to decide what to eat for a long time.
I ignored her and pulled an apple out of my bag again, peeling it slowly.
The blade scraped the skin with a faint "shush" sound, standing out sharply in the silent hospital ward.
After a while, the hospital ward door opened, and Dylan Scott walked in.
The moment he saw me eating the apple, his face darkened instantly. He stormed over angrily and scolded, "Windy Lynn! How can you care for our cousin like this? Eating all by yourself? Quinn is carrying a child of the Lynn family, and you're so heartless!"
I stared at his face, my fingertips trembling uncontrollably.
In my previous life, it was this very cousin's husband, someone I had always treated with kindness, who pushed me off the seventeenth floor with his own hands.
I still remember the scene at the postpartum care center—I was clutching my baby, curled up in a corner, while he and Quinn Scott slowly closed in on me.
Quinn Scott accused me of "grabbing the family fortune," and Dylan Scott grabbed my arm, dragging me out.
I am begging for mercy, but he didn't even bat an eye.
This time around, I won't show him an ounce of mercy.
I lifted my head and kept chewing the Apple, refusing to explain like I did last time—there was simply no need.
"Dylan, I can't eat apples. If I do, the boy will run away!" Quinn Scott gripped Dylan Scott's hand, her eyes swelling with tears of hurt.
"But I'm starving! I feel like I'm going to die of hunger!"
Dylan's expression softened. Holding her hand gently, he soothed, "Quinn, no matter if it's a boy or a girl, I love you and our child all the same."
I couldn't hold back a cold sneer.
Last life he said the exact same thing. But after Quinn gave birth to a daughter, he was the first to walk away, barely staying at the hospital, complaining that Quinn was "useless, unable to bear a son."
This time, without me as their scapegoat, I'm eager to see where they'll vent their bitterness.
Dylan claimed he wasn't biased, but his actions told another story—he quickly began discussing what to eat with Quinn Scott.
"How about noodles?" He thought for a moment. "I'll ask the owner to leave out the spice and use less vinegar."
Quinn immediately shook her head. "No way! Noodles are thin—what if the child ends up a girl?"
"Then dumplings?" Dylan suggested again.
Bella interrupted from the side, "Even worse! It's about losing a son, a son!"
Several people babbled on for a long while, but no conclusion was reached.
Suddenly, Quinn Scott screamed in pain, more violently than before.
Her face grew increasingly pale, her breathing rapid and ragged like a bellows.
Before long, her eyes rolled back and she fainted.
"Quinn! Quinn!" Dylan Scott panicked, holding her tightly, shouting, "Doctor! Call the doctor quickly!"
Bella touched Quinn Scott's pants, her face suddenly drained of color. "It's bad! She's spotting blood! Quinn, wake up! You have to push hard!"
The hospital ward was in utter chaos. After the doctor arrived to check, he immediately insisted on a cesarean section.
The moment Dylan Scott heard this, he panicked and grabbed the doctor's hand. "Doctor, we won't do a cesarean! We agreed on natural birth! The cesarean costs seven thousand more—that money could buy so much milk powder for the baby!"
The doctor snapped back angrily, frowning. "What time is it to worry about money? What matters more, life or money? She fainted from hunger—how can she have the strength for natural birth? Use some common sense! This is the best private hospital in the city. If you want to save petty money, you shouldn't have come here in the first place!"
Dylan Scott instinctively glanced at me, his eyes heavy with guilt.
I understand why he was pretending—Quinn Scott was originally going for a prenatal checkup at the city Hospital.
Three months ago, I discovered I was pregnant. Simon Green worried about me and arranged for me to be admitted to this private Hospital.
When Quinn Scott found out, she threw a huge fit at home, saying the Lynn Family treated her like an outsider and even threatened to have an abortion.
Dylan Scott lacked the means, so he had no choice but to come begging me with Quinn Scott, borrowing a hundred thousand just to turn her around.
In my previous life, this hundred thousand was one of their reasons for killing me, saying I was 'too harsh about collecting debts.'
Dylan Scott and Bella exchanged a look, and Bella immediately waved her hand: 'Don't look at me; I have no money. I've spent all mine buying supplements for Quinn.'
Dylan Scott clenched his teeth and asked the doctor, "Are you sure it's a boy?"
The doctor rolled her eyes. "You refused to have an amniocentesis—how would I know? Besides, if it's a girl, do you not care about the mother and daughter's lives?"
Dylan Scott didn't listen at all, muttering to himself, "It has to be a boy. Quinn's been eating sour food every day—sour boys, spicy girls. That can't be wrong."
At that moment, Quinn Scott woke up, drenched in sweat from the pain, crying out that her entire body ached.
Bella didn't offer comfort; instead, she laughed, "Quinn, you're definitely having a big, strong boy! Only a boy could stretch his mother out this much!"
Quinn Scott was in so much pain that tears streamed down her face. Seeing no one show her any sympathy, she suddenly grabbed my hand and cried, "Windy, it hurts so much. Is there any way to ease the pain?"
I immediately looked up and called out to the doctor, "Doctor, my cousin is in unbearable pain. Can we use the pain relief pump? I've heard that after a Cesarean section, using a pain relief pump can make it painless, right?"
The moment Dylan Scott heard "pain relief pump," his face drained of color. "Doctor, what is a pain relief pump? How much does it cost?"
The doctor replied emotionlessly, "One hundred and ten thousand."
"One hundred and ten thousand?" Dylan jumped up, his voice rising, "Where am I supposed to get that much money? How can you be so fragile? You can't even endure a little pain? One word from you about pain and our entire year's salary will be gone! No way, I won't allow it!"
I whispered softly beside him, "Simon said I can use the pain relief pump whenever I want during delivery; he'll pay for it."
Quinn Scott immediately burst into tears, wailing, "Fine, all of you in the Lynn Family! Is this why you brought me here—to make me suffer? Dylan Scott, have you lost your conscience? Have you forgotten how I begged to marry you? I'm giving your Lynn Family a son! And you can't even spare the pain relief pump?"
Dylan Scott's face flushed bright red, clearly humiliated in front of me. He shouted hoarsely, "Enough! For a boy, I'll pay. For a girl, your mother will."
Quinn Scott fell silent, but Bella suddenly erupted in anger.
She slammed the table and stood up. "Dylan Scott, what do you mean? I married my daughter off as a live-in wife, and now you want me to pay for you to have an heir? Unless the boy carries our Clark surname, I won't spend a single cent!"
"How could a boy possibly carry his mother's surname?" Dylan Scott frowned and retorted.
"The boy will carry the Lynn surname, and the girl will take your Clark name."
Bella immediately collapsed to the floor, beating her thigh and crying, "Why would I want a girl to carry the Clark name? You're tormenting an old woman! This is a curse!"
The nurses and patients nearby gathered to watch the commotion, whispering and pointing fingers at them.
I threw fuel on the fire: "Ms. Bella, cousin, there's no need to agonize over this.""The doctor said the pain relief pump isn't good for recovery. If you skip it, cousin can leave the confinement period earlier to take care of the baby."
Quinn Scott glared at me: "If I don't use the pain relief pump, I won't give birth! Windy Lynn, you talk as if it's easy, but when it's your turn, you'll understand!"
I ignored her and kept slicing the apple.
The cries and whispers in the hospital ward blended together, buzzing around my ears like a swarm of flies.
Before I even finished peeling the apple, the flames of war had already reached me.
I didn't know who shouted, "If it's a girl, let Windy Lynn pay for the pain relief pump!"
I laughed in anger, "What does that have to do with me?"
Quinn Scott shouted hoarsely, "How could it not be related! You in the Lynn Family are all in this together! You have the money, if you don't pay, then who will? Your husband doesn't even care about that money!"
Dylan Scott came over to persuade me, his tone thick with moral pressure: "Windy, you married a rich man, what's wrong with helping your cousin? You're all Lynn family. Your money is Lynn family's money. You have a duty to help."
I sneered, "I've already lent you 100,000—not a single cent repaid—and now you expect me to cover 110,000? In your dreams! I don't spend my own money to have my child, so why should I pay for someone else's?"
Quinn Scott started to whine again, "Didn't you say you liked girls? Here's your chance to prove it! You're carrying a boy, I'm having a girl—you must be eager for that, so you have to pay!"
"Impossible." I said coldly.
Ms. Clark pointed at me and shrieked, "You heartless b*tch! How dare you refuse to help your own cousin in her time of need? Have you no shame? And to think we actually believed you when you said you wanted a daughter — you were just flaunting your pregnancy with a son all along! Disgusting! Is this how the Lynn family raises their daughters?"
I looked at Dylan Scott's face. When he heard I was carrying a boy, his expression visibly darkened, and he didn't say a word.
In my previous life, it was just like this—when he found out I gave birth to a boy, fearing I would take away the Lynn Family's resources that rightfully belonged to him, he tried to kill me. He always believed that, as a "live-in son-in-law," he should be the head of the Lynn Family, while I, his own daughter, was an "outsider."
Quinn Scott was still cursing, her insults growing harsher and more vicious: "You're just a girl, five or six months pregnant and still clinging to your mother's home—aren't you ashamed? Every grain of rice you eat is because of what I gave up! What's wrong with asking for some money? Your husband is so rich but won't take you in; maybe you're the other woman! Otherwise, how could you be so disgraceful?"
Smack.
I raised my hand and slapped her; my long nails raked across her cheek, and blood immediately welled up.
Quinn Scott was stunned, Bella and Dylan Scott frozen in place, and silence descended over the hospital ward.
"I'm pregnant too—hitting you isn't wrong." I looked at her coldly, my voice calm and unyielding.
"If you keep spinning lies about Simon Green and me, I'll make sure you give birth at the police station."
Having said that, I turned and walked away without glancing back.
The antiseptic smell in the corridor grew stronger; I steadied myself against the wall and walked slowly, my heart still pounding.
Simon went abroad on a business trip. Worried I might be wronged, he arranged for me to be admitted to the most expensive hospital in the city, with 24-hour security.
I pitied Quinn Scott, knowing how difficult her pregnancy was. I paid out of my own pocket to have her transferred here, and that hundred thousand—I never intended to accept it.
Simon and his parents were all overseas. I was bored staying alone in the hospital, so I occasionally joined Quinn Scott and Dylan Scott for meals at home. When Dylan worked overtime, I even stayed overnight, afraid Quinn might face an emergency.
But in their eyes, I became the mistress abandoned by my husband, stealing Quinn's rightful place.
Last life, they pushed me off the seventeenth floor just to avoid repaying that hundred thousand. How could I possibly soften my heart this time?
I walked into the doctor's office and pushed the door open. "Doctor, I want to do the gender screening one more time."
The doctor prepared the equipment, smiling as he reassured me, "Don't worry, our technology is reliable. If the result says it's a boy, then it definitely is. No matter how many times we test, it won't change."
The machine beeped steadily, but the doctor's smile slowly faded.
"What? A girl? How can this be?" He held the report, staring at it in utter disbelief.
I took the report and saw the word "female" written there. My lips slowly curved into a smile, but my eyes grew wet.
When I was reincarnated, a voice asked me what privilege I wanted.
I could choose to be richer, or make Quinn Scott's child born with defects.
I chose to swap the genders of Quinn Scott's child and myself.
Simon Green and I always wanted a daughter. In the last life, we had a boy, and we even promised to have another one. But I died before he came back.
In this life, I can finally have a daughter.
"A daughter is wonderful—I love daughters." I smiled at the doctor, who was still scratching his head in confusion.
Clutching the report, I returned to my hospital ward, passing by Quinn Scott's room where the quarrel was still going on; Bella's crying echoed clearly through the door.
I made a video call to Simon. It was past midnight on his end; his eyes were bloodshot, but he still smiled as he listened to me.
"Honey, we're going to have a daughter." I held the report up to the camera; his eyes immediately filled with tears.
"That's wonderful, Windy. When I come back, I promise I'll spend plenty of time with you." His voice was a little hoarse. I knew he was busy with a case, so I didn't say much and hung up.
By the time I went upstairs again, Quinn had just come out of the cesarean section room.
The entire hospital ward was brimming with joy. Dylan held the baby, grinning from ear to ear.
Bella was flattering nearby: "I told you it's definitely a boy! Our Quinn is incredible!"
I stood at the door, sneering coldly. In my previous life, they fought over the inheritance just to have a boy, but their wish never came true.
This time, I'll give them what they want. Let's see if they can truly get their wish fulfilled once there's a boy.
Quinn Scott had just woken up, still numb from the anesthesia. She gripped my arm tightly: "It's all your fault! If you hadn't refused to cover the costs, why wouldn't Dylan let me use the pain relief pump? It hurts so much! You're so heartless!"
I pried her hand away, my voice calm: "The pain relief pump was withheld by your husband and your mother — what does that have to do with me? Besides, didn't you have a boy? What else could you possibly be unhappy about?"
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