My Parents Sold Me, I Exposed the Traffickers

After the college entrance examination, I became the top scorer in the province and was successfully admitted to Yale University—just as I had always dreamed.

My parents were overjoyed. They hosted a grand buffet that lasted three whole days, inviting everyone from the village to celebrate.

But in the morning we were supposed to leave—when a special car arranged by the village came to take us to the station—my mother suddenly blocked the door, refusing to let me go out.

To my shock, my father—who had always obeyed her without question—grabbed her and shoved her against the wall.

I froze in place as the two of them began arguing furiously.

"My daughter, please believe me!" my mother shouted, eyes wild with desperation. "I’ve been reborn. There's going to be a mudslide on the way to the station. If you leave today, you’ll die!"

My father scoffed, eyes flashing with fury. "Don’t listen to her, Sam. This is just her excuse—she doesn’t want you to outshine the bastard child she had with another man!"

My mother’s face flushed scarlet. She jabbed a trembling finger at him. "You heartless man! You know full well that if she goes to college, she’ll be bullied! You’re sending her to her death!"

"And you?" my father barked. "Don’t twist the truth! In the last life, you were the one who stopped her from going to the university she worked so hard for. She died of depression because of you!"

I didn’t step in to calm them this time. Instead, I turned away with a cold sneer and slammed the door behind me.

Let them argue. I wasn’t the same naive girl anymore.

They didn’t know that I, too, had been reborn.

——

The moment I opened the door earlier and heard them spew the exact same lies they told in my past life, I realized the truth—I had come back. This was my second chance.

Sitting on the edge of my bed, my heart pounded violently, the weight of it all crashing down like a tidal wave. For a long while, I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t move.

Then, from outside the door, I heard my mother’s smug voice:

"I told you. My daughter always listens to me."

I snapped back to reality.

Enough was enough.

I repacked my bag with steady hands and opened the door once more.

My mother’s victorious smile faltered the moment she saw me.

"Sam, where are you going with your suitcase?"

I ignored her and looked past her at my father.

"Once you’re done arguing, take me to the meeting point. If I miss the special car, there won’t be another."

My father flicked away his cigarette, startled but pleased. He immediately came over to help carry my luggage.

As he passed my mother, he shot her a smug look, raising an eyebrow in triumph.

I didn’t care about either of them anymore.

My mother grabbed my arm one last time, her voice trembling.

"Sam, please… think it over. If you walk out that door, you might die!"

I pulled away and looked at her straight in the eye.

"I’ve studied for nine years for this moment. Even if the sky rains knives today—I’m going."

She stood frozen, torn between fear and guilt, and didn’t follow me.

As I stepped outside, I heard her whisper behind me,

"What a pity."

My father pedaled the tricycle faster than ever, like a rooster strutting after a victory.

When we reached the meeting point, he even gave me a rare word of advice before I boarded the bus.

"Sam, study hard. Get your doctorate and make our family proud, you hear?"

Hypocrite.

I held back a laugh, nodded indifferently, and turned away.

The driver was doing roll call. I didn’t need to count—I already knew. There were 23 passengers, all girls.

Someone asked the driver, half-jokingly, "Uncle, why are there only girls on this bus?"

The driver chuckled. "To keep you innocent! We sent the boys off on another bus. Don’t want you falling in love too early!"

"No way!" another girl groaned. "I’m still single—how am I supposed to survive without the drama?"

Laughter rippled through the bus.

But I didn’t join in.

I turned my head to look out the window as the scenery passed by in a blur. The road ahead twisted and turned—and we were nearing the dangerous section.