After ten years studying interior design overseas, I came back to my hometown to do work that mattered to the people who raised me.

I offered the full package, from site survey to soft furnishings. The materials were chosen by hand. The price was fair to the bone.

The town had just gone through a redevelopment. Everyone was getting new units. With the new family policy, every family wanted a third bedroom too. My business was good. Customers from the next county were driving in.

Then a girl just back from a city college kicked open my studio with her phone on a livestream and her neighbors at her shoulder.

"This is the dishonest one. Look at her. She has been ripping the village off."

"In the city, an eighty-square-meter unit can be done for twenty thousand dollars. She is charging eighty."

"That's a sixty-thousand-dollar margin. Sixty thousand. Right out of our pockets."

The village fell in line behind her. They demanded the difference back. When I refused, they smashed my studio. They beat me into a coma. The pile-on online killed me.

When I opened my eyes again, I knew exactly what I was going to do.

I would refund every single one of them. And then I would tear out every single thing I had installed.

Let's see what twenty thousand dollars actually buys you.

A burst of noise outside dragged me out of my sleep. I sat up abruptly, looked around, and my heart started pounding.

This… this was my studio?

Had I been reborn?

Before I could think any further, a rapid series of knocks slammed against the front door.

My chest tightened. I hurried over and pulled it open.

Crystal Mason.

The college girl who had just come back from the city, and the one who led the online harassment against me in my previous life.

She held a phone gimbal in one hand, her face full of righteous anger. She leaned back to whisper something to Mrs. Walters behind her, then suddenly shoved the camera right up to my face.

"This is her! Everyone, take a good look at this person!"

I straightened slightly and rolled my eyes at her.

"Miss, my renovation studio is closed today. Please leave."

Instead of backing off, she let out a mocking laugh.

"Renovation studio? You actually dare to call this a studio?

"I think it's more like a scam operation!

"With your skill level, who gave you the nerve to charge that much?!"

I leaned against the doorframe, letting my gaze sweep over the angry villagers behind her. A chill ran through me.

"Oh? Then, when I was measuring your homes for free, drawing plans for free, redesigning layouts for free… why didn't you call me a scam then?"

My voice was not loud, but the exhaustion in it was impossible to hide.

This small town was where I was born. Even after leaving for years, I came back after finishing my studies, determined to help the people here.

And yet, in my previous life, just a few words from her were enough for them to smash everything I had.

Mrs. Walters stepped forward from behind Crystal, pointing at me with a face full of anger.

"You can't say it like that! How were we supposed to know back then?!"

"If Crystal hadn't come back and told us, we'd still be in the dark!"

"She's a college graduate from the city. Why would she lie to us?"

Her voice grew louder.

"And you, after your father died, you ran off with your mother. Who knows what kind of things you learned out there!"

Anger flared in my chest. But the moment I noticed the camera, I hesitated.

I knew all too well the power of public opinion.

I took a deep breath, forcing myself to stay calm, and addressed the livestream.

"Everyone, the materials I use are formaldehyde-free and fully certified. I selected them carefully myself.

"On top of that, I provide site measurements, drawings, and layout design completely free of charge. How could it be expensive?

"If you want a full materials list, I can provide it to you, item by item."

Crystal did not care. She cut me off arrogantly.

"I studied in the city for three years. Don't you think I know what renovation costs there?!

"My classmate's place, 100 square meters. Full renovation, hard and soft, just twenty thousand!

"And here? You're charging eighty thousand! Where's your conscience?!"

Twenty thousand?

I let out a cold laugh internally. Just the material and labor costs alone would not come close to that.

Even in my previous life, I refused to believe a house could be done properly for that price.

Seeing me stay silent, the villagers started shouting.

"Exactly! Do you even know what eighty thousand means to us?! That's enough for my son to get married!"

"Making sixty thousand off a single job. You're not afraid of karma?!"

"That's right! You need to compensate us! Return the dirty money!"

In my previous life, I had stood firm. I believed I was right. I poured my heart into every design.

I remembered how I argued, how I explained costs and value, and how all it earned me was more accusations and abuse.

That helplessness still lingered.

I took a deep breath, suppressing the surge of emotion. My lips twitched slightly.

"Fine.

"I'll give you all full refunds."

The mob looked at me like I had spoken the wrong language.

I kept going.

"With one condition: the work I have already finished, I am tearing it out. Floors, walls, fixtures, the whole renovation.

"If you agree, sign in. I'll send a crew tonight."

Mrs. Walters lit up. "Annie Lane, are you deaf? We just want the difference back. Nobody said anything about tearing out a house."

I almost laughed.

"Mrs. Walters, the unit you live in is the one I designed. I think the design is worth what I charged.

"Every material on that bill came from a factory I sourced directly. I have the receipts. If you want a refund, I take back what I installed and give you the money. There is no middle option."

The phrase 'full refund' landed. The faces relaxed half an inch. Then the next set of objections came.

"You can't just tear my house up and tell me where to live. My family has nowhere to go."

"Annie, we're asking you to give back what you took. We're not asking you to wreck the place."

I knew this town. Once I went soft, every problem the building had for the next five years was going to land on me.

I picked up my phone and held it up.

"You all signed contracts with my studio. I have receipts for every material and every labor hour. If we go to the police, you don't get the difference back. You don't get anything back. Tearing it out is the offer."

I stole a glance at the chat scrolling on Crystal's livestream. The comments had shifted from where they had been in the prior life.

[Honestly, the woman is being patient. she's offering refunds.]

[Full refund means they have to gut it. Fair enough.]

[I don't know about renovation prices, but 80k for a full eighty-square-meter unit doesn't sound crazy.]

Crystal saw the chat too. She caught Mrs. Walters by the wrist and softened her voice.

"It's all right. Tear it out. I will redo your renovation for twenty thousand.

"Think about it, you walk away with sixty thousand in your pocket. Renting a place for a while won't cost much compared to that."

A woman near the back hesitated. "Twenty thousand? Are you sure?"

Crystal slapped her chest. "I grew up in this town. Why would I lie to you? I learned the entire renovation supply chain in college. I have direct contracts with major brands. Hard finishes, soft finishes. Twenty thousand, all in."

She did not forget to take a jab at me.

"And those manufacturers all carry certifications. Annie Lane has nothing in writing."

If I had not been given a second chance, I might have started doubting myself.

Now I knew exactly what she was after, my business.

I let her take the stage.

She turned back to the crowd, expectant.

"Such a good deal. You're not seriously going to walk away from it, are you?"

The villagers looked at one another. Mrs. Walters stepped forward first.

"Annie is rotten to the core. She only knows how to take advantage of people like us."

"She doesn't deserve any loyalty. I'll go with Crystal. Where do I sign?"

The rest of them followed.

"Tear it down if you want, but the refund comes today. Every cent."

When they were gone, I called my mother. I told her everything.

The line went quiet for a moment.

"Annie. Stop. Stop helping people who don't want help. Come back to the city. Help me run the firm."

I held the phone tight.

"Mom, I sourced everything from your factory at cost for these people. I gave them the design for free. I caused you losses. You aren't angry?

"You and your father are the same kind of person. You give until your hands hurt. Cost-only is fine. Whatever makes you happy. I just didn't think it would land you in something like this.

"Look, after the refund, any soft furnishings that are still usable—send them to me. I know a few resale dealers. We won't have to absorb the entire loss."

I had been bracing for an 'I told you so.' What I got instead felt like a tired hand on my shoulder.

The next morning, I drove out with my crew, going house to house according to the sign-in list, dismantling everything.

Every layout I had carefully designed was torn down under my own direction.

Some villagers had hidden the more expensive soft furnishings. Fortunately, the signed inventory list I had prevented bigger losses.

On the way out, they spat at me.

"Cheap! Crystal would never do this. She'd let the sofa go!"

"Look at her. Came here just for money. Now she can't squeeze anything out of us, she's even taking the washing machine!"

I listened to the insults and found them almost laughable.

Those furnishings were part of my renovation package. I hadn't even charged depreciation. And they still wanted everything.

Crystal showed up that afternoon, holding blueprints, chin lifted.

"You can draw? So can I. I didn't go to college for nothing."

She glanced at me with disdain.

"Such simple layout changes, and you still dare say you didn't charge?"

I had already looked into her background the night before.

She majored in Business English at an ordinary college, completely unrelated to design.

I honestly didn't know where she got the confidence.

I gave a faint smile.

"I'm curious. Plumbing, electrical, tiling, carpentry, painting… materials alone cost more than twenty thousand. What kind of cheap materials are you using?"

My mother had been in this industry for decades. Even she had never heard of materials that cheap, let alone branded ones.

Crystal's expression changed instantly. She lifted her chin.

"What? Can't make that kind of money yourself, so now you're slandering me?"

She pulled out her phone and swiped through several photos.

"Look at this. My classmate's house. What you see is what you get. Tell me—where's the problem?

"All big brands. Full renovation, hard and soft finishes, twenty thousand. They've lived there for over half a year."

The villagers flared up instantly, like a match to gasoline.

They turned on me, glaring, cursing, saying I was just jealous of Crystal.

I let it go. You can't reason with people determined not to listen.

A few days later, just as I was about to shut down the studio, a well-dressed man came in.

He looked me over and handed me a business card.

"Ms. Lane, hello. I'm Ethan Howell from Brookfield Academy. We're opening a branch campus here and would like to hire you to handle the design and renovation."

I was surprised.

Word had already spread across the county. Why would he still come to me?

He seemed to read my thoughts.

"I'm a friend of your mother. She recommended you after hearing about our project."

"Your mother's company has an excellent reputation in the industry. If you're her daughter, I trust you."

So it was my mother.

I hesitated.

"I've only worked on residential spaces before… projects around a hundred square meters."

He smiled.

"It's a small private school. We have our own construction team. We just need you to handle layout, circulation, and spatial planning.

"If the collaboration goes well, we'll also assign your firm the furnishing phase.

"Money isn't the issue. We care about practicality and safety.

"Five hundred thousand upfront."

My phone buzzed.

[Annie, the studio is your dream. If you don't want to give it up, don't. I'll support you. I'll arrange a design team. Just go for it.]

I steadied myself and looked at him.

"Alright. I'll take it."

Just as we were about to sign, the studio door slammed open.

Crystal rushed in, out of breath, snatched the contract, and shouted:

"Five hundred thousand?! Annie Lane, your appetite just keeps growing!"

Then she turned to Ethan with a flattering smile.

"Mr. Ethan, right? She's a fraud. Charging you five hundred thousand?

"Come to me. I'll do it for two hundred."