Holistic Health Journey, 1600 Amsterdam Avenue, New York, New City, NY (2025)

09/17/2025

Teacher Told the Black Student: “Solve This EQUATION and My Salary Will Be Yours” — What Happened...

You couldn’t solve a simple arithmetic problem even if your life depended on it, Marcus. But here’s a challenge.

Solve this equation and my entire year’s salary will be yours.

And now, let’s dive into the full story.

The afternoon light filtered through the dusty windows of the Roosevelt Middle School advanced math classroom, casting long shadows across the worn wooden desks.

Mr. Harold Whitman stood at the front of the room, his half-bald head gleaming under the fluorescent lights as he regarded his seventh-grade class with thinly veiled disdain.

His mustache twitched with every scornful glance, especially when his eyes fell on Marcus Johnson, the only Black student in his advanced math class.

“Today, class,” Mr. Whitman announced, his voice dripping with condescension, “we are going to explore something that will separate the truly talented from those who, well, let’s just say, are here by mistake.”

His gaze deliberately lingered on Marcus, who sat quietly in the third row, his dark eyes fixed on the blank notebook in front of him.

Sarah Chen, the best student in the class, shifted uncomfortably in her seat. She had noticed how Mr. Whitman always directed his harshest comments toward Marcus.

Despite the fact that Marcus maintained a steady B-plus average, Tommy Rodríguez, who sat next to him, clenched his jaw but stayed silent. Everyone had learned that standing up to Mr. Whitman only made things worse.

“I’ve prepared a special problem,” Whitman continued, turning to write on the chalkboard with exaggerated motions. “A real mathematician’s challenge, something that even college professors might struggle with.”

He finished writing and stepped back, revealing a complex differential equation full of multiple variables, integral symbols, and nested functions that seemed to dance across the board in a labyrinth of mathematical complexity.

The classroom fell silent.

Even Sarah, who usually solved every problem with confidence, stared wide-eyed at the board. This wasn’t just advanced for seventh grade — it was advanced even for high school, maybe even at the university level.

“And now…” Mr. Whitman said, his lips curling into what could only be described as a cruel smile.
full story: https://celebritytimess.com/dung1/teacher-told-the-black-student-solve-this-equation-and-my-salary-will-be-yours-what-happened/

09/16/2025

My Husband’s Mistress—A Newly Graduated Student—Sat Across From Me, Pulled Down the Collar of Her Blouse, and Revealed a Small Firework Tattoo on Her Chest, Their “Symbol of Love,” Then Said: “Nothing will ever change our love…” I Burst Out Laughing and Showed Her What It Really Means to Be a Young Woman Desperate for Money.

My husband and I are nearing fifty. We met in college — years when every day meant frugality, when dinner sometimes was just half a pack of instant noodles split between us, and our dreams reached no farther than having a roof of our own. But together, we built a company from nothing, forged through every hardship until prosperity finally came.

Now, we have a thriving business, a luxurious home, and an eight-year-old son — bright, obedient, and the pride of our lives. A family that others envy.

I always thought our marriage was solid. I believed that the man who stood with me in hardship and triumph would never turn his back on me. But I was wrong.

One day, while fixing his coat, I found lipstick in the pocket. A bold, vivid red — with a scent that was not mine. A chill ran through me. As a woman, I knew. From then on, I watched silently, gathering evidence.

And then I uncovered everything: he was having an affair with a young woman, freshly graduated, barely starting as an intern in our company. Young, pretty, pretending to be innocent — but her ambition was obvious.

My husband showered her with reckless spending: expensive clothes, designer bags, dinners at fine restaurants, even an apartment bought just for their rendezvous. And worst of all, he whispered to her the same promises he once made to me.

When I confronted him, he fell to his knees before me, crying, begging forgiveness, promising to end it all. I gave him a month — one month to clean up the mess. He agreed, and he kept his word.

But for the mistress, letting go wasn’t so easy.

Furious, she bombarded my husband with calls and messages, all unanswered. Until one day, she demanded to meet me. I accepted.

That day, we sat across from each other in a café. Her hair was long, her makeup flawless, and her gaze sharp, brimming with challenge. Suddenly, she yanked down her blouse collar, revealing a small tattoo of a firework on her left chest.

“This,” she said proudly, “is the symbol of our love. He loved kissing it. Nothing will ever change his love for me.”

I burst out laughing. My laughter stopped her cold. I looked straight into her eyes and, with an icy voice, I said:
full story: https://celebritytimess.com/dung1/the-young-mistress-a-fresh-graduate-sitting-across-from-me-she-pulled-down-her-collar-to-reveal-a-tiny-firework-tattoo-over-her-heart-a-symbol-of-love-for-my-husband-and-s/

09/16/2025

The Little Girl Complained of Severe Abdominal Pain After a Weekend Spent With Her Stepfather — and When the Doctor Saw the Ultrasound, She Immediately Called an Ambulance… 😱

That Monday morning should have started like any other. Clara, mother of an eight-year-old girl named Ana, was preparing breakfast before taking her to school. But something felt deeply unsettling.

Ana was pale, sitting at the table with her hand on her stomach.
— “Mom… it still hurts,” she whispered weakly.

Clara felt a knot in her chest.
— “Did it hurt yesterday too?”
Ana nodded, her wide eyes full of fear.
— “It started Saturday night… really strong. I told Martín (Clara’s husband, Ana’s stepfather), but he told me it was probably just the pizza.”

That weekend Clara had been working, leaving her daughter in Martín’s care. Until then, she had always downplayed the girl’s complaints, convinced they were only passing discomforts. But this time, a chilling premonition ran through her veins.

Without wasting time, she took Ana to the pediatrician who had cared for her since birth.

After a thorough examination, the doctor decided to perform an ultrasound “just in case.” However, the moment the images appeared on the screen, the calm expression vanished from her face. She exchanged an alarmed glance with her assistant.

— “Doctor, what’s happening?” Clara asked with a trembling voice.

The doctor immediately picked up the phone and, with a firm tone, said:
— “I need an ambulance for an eight-year-old girl.”

Then she turned toward Ana, lying frightened on the examination table. And at that instant, a terrifying thought crossed Clara’s mind:

What had really happened during that weekend with her stepfather?
full story: https://celebritytimess.com/dung1/the-girl-complained-of-severe-abdominal-pains-after-a-weekend-spent-with-her-stepfather-and-the-doctor-seeing-the-ultrasound-immediately-called-the-ambulance-2/

09/16/2025

A Stranger Brings Flowers to a Dying Grandmother Every Day — When Asked Why, Her Answer Is Tears I have been a hospital nurse for ten years, and I have seen so many. But I will never forget this couple. We had a patient at the time, a seventy-year-old grandmother. According to the doctors, she was hopeless — she might only live a month, or maybe even less. But despite this, she kept on hanging on, always smiling, joking, handing us candy, and trying to cheer up the other patients. The most amazing thing: every day a man, the same age as her, would visit, and always bring a different flower — sometimes a rose, sometimes a daisy, sometimes a tulip. And every time the grandmother saw the flowers, her face would light up like a young girl in love. She would carefully accept the bouquet and express her heartfelt gratitude. It was noticeable that he did not stay long in the room. He would just offer the flower, say a few sweet words, and leave immediately. The day came when I could bear it no longer and I asked him: — “Sir, why do you always bring flowers every day? We know that you are not her husband.” He sighed, and tears glistened in his eyes. — “You are right. I am married, and I am not her husband. But I have to do this.” — “Why?” I asked, wondering. And then he told me something that gave me great horror and amazement. He said that he was a close friend of the grandmother’s husband. The grandmother’s husband was also confined to another hospital, bedridden and unable to get up. But throughout their lives, he always gave his wife flowers — even on no special occasion. The man knew how much the grandmother loved flowers, and he always said that her smile was the most beautiful sight in the world. Now that her husband could no longer do this, she asked her friend to continue her tradition. And she faithfully fulfilled her wish, bringing her grandmother a fresh bouquet every day. When I heard that, my heart seemed to break with pain and admiration. I immediately told our head doctor about it, and soon we organized the transfer of her husband to our hospital....
full story: https://celebritytimess.com/dung1/a-stranger-brings-flowers-to-a-dying-grandmother-every-day-when-asked-why-her-answer-is-tears/

09/16/2025

After a night of passion, a tycoon left the poor young student one million pesos and disappeared. Seven years later, she discovered why she had that “value”…

That night, after the heat of alcohol, the student woke up beside an unknown man. On the table lay a thick envelope with a figure that made her tremble: one million pesos. He had vanished as if he had never existed, leaving her with a question that haunted her: why was she worth so much to him? Only seven years later did the truth come to light…

She was a third-year student in the Faculty of Economics at UNAM, from a small town in Oaxaca. Her parents were farmers who scraped together every peso so she could study in the capital. Still, between rent, tuition, and food, she always lived in hardship. Even so, she felt obliged to send some money home to support her younger brother, who was in high school.

One night, after finishing her shift at a café in the Historic Center, a friend convinced her to join a birthday party at a luxurious restaurant in Polanco. She didn’t want to go, but her friend insisted, saying maybe she could find work there as a waitress for events.

During the party, without realizing it, she drank several glasses of tequila. With an empty stomach and accumulated exhaustion, she soon lost control. When she opened her eyes, she found herself in an elegant hotel on Paseo de la Reforma, next to a mature man of distinguished bearing. The shock left her paralyzed. What unsettled her even more was the envelope on the table: one million pesos in cash and a short note that read:

“Consider it fate. Do not look for me.”

She felt confused, ashamed, as if she had been treated like an object with a price. Yet the amount was too large to ignore. She spent days crying and torn between pride and need, until finally she decided to use it to pay off her university debts, help her family, and continue her studies.

She graduated with honors, secured a good job at a finance company, and little by little built a stable life. But for seven years, deep in her heart, she lived with that lingering question:

Who was that man? Why had he done such a thing?

And then, seven years later…
full story: https://celebritytimess.com/dung1/after-a-night-of-passion-a-tycoon-left-the-poor-young-student-one-million-pesos-and-disappeared-seven-years-later-she-discovered-why-she-had-that-value/

09/16/2025

My Husband Threw Me Out of the House. I Agreed to Marry a Construction Worker Just to Have a Roof Over My Head. But Three Months Later… I Discovered a Truth That Left Me in Shock.

I still remember that rainy afternoon — when I was cast out of what I once called “home” in Quezon City, carrying only a suitcase of clothes and a phone with barely any battery left. My husband — the very one who had sworn to “love you forever” — mercilessly threw me out onto the street, just after my second miscarriage.
— “I married you to have children, not to take care of someone who only knows how to cry,” he growled, slamming the door shut. The sound felt like a sentence.

I stood there, frozen under the rain. My parents had died young, I had no siblings, and only a few distant relatives. My friends were busy with their own families. I took the night bus to flee Manila, escaping the pain. I returned to Batangas, the humble town where I was born and had left years ago. No one remembered the brilliant student I once was.

I rented a small room by the market and started living day by day: helping sell vegetables, cleaning, doing whatever people asked.

Then I met Tomas.

He was my age, working as a laborer in a small crew near the market. He was tall, fair-skinned, quiet, but his calm eyes inspired trust. That day, he stopped by the stall and asked:
— “Did you just return to town? It’s strange… you look familiar.”
I smiled awkwardly:
— “Strange but familiar… because we’re both poor.”

Tomas laughed — a rare but genuine laugh. From then on, every afternoon after work, he would stop by to buy vegetables, even though it was clear he didn’t really need them.

One day, heavy rain poured and the roof of the small room I rented began leaking everywhere. Tomas stopped by, saw me huddled under a blanket, and said:
— “Come stay at my place for a few days. No leaks there. I live alone.”

I felt nervous, but I was so tired that I agreed. He was kind, respectful, never crossed the line. We lived in the same house, but didn’t share a bed. He cooked rice, saved what little he could; I washed and hung his clothes. Everything happened naturally.

A week. Then two.

One evening, while I was cleaning the table for dinner, he hesitated and said:
— “I know you’ve suffered… I don’t have my own house, or money… but if you don’t mind… will you marry me?”

I was speechless. Part of me wanted to say no — the wounds were still fresh; but another part longed for a real home. So I nodded.

The wedding was simple, at the barangay office: a few trays of food, some construction co-workers. There was no white dress, no bouquet. I wore my mother’s old Filipiniana; the ring was a silver bracelet Tomas himself had melted down.

After the wedding, life was surprisingly simple. Tomas kept working, woke up early to cook me rice porridge before heading to the site. I planted vegetables and sold them in the market. He never raised his voice, didn’t drink, didn’t gamble. At night when he came home, the only questions he asked were:
— “Have you eaten?”
— “Are you sad?”
— “Has anyone hurt you?”

I began to feel valued — not for whether I could bear children or not, but because someone considered me important.

Until one day, while cleaning the house, I found a wooden box hidden under our bed.

Curious, I opened it.

And inside was…
full story: https://celebritytimess.com/dung1/he-kicked-me-out-of-the-house-i-agreed-to-marry-a-construction-worker-and-three-months-later-i-discovered-the-truth-2/

09/16/2025

The Little Girl Whispered to Her Teacher: “I’m Afraid to Go Home” — The Next Day, Police Uncovered a Terrifying Secret in the Dark Basement…

The bell had just rung at Rosewood Elementary School in Ohio when Miss Carter noticed something unusual. Eight-year-old Emily Walker lingered by her desk, clutching her notebook tightly against her chest. Emily was usually quiet, but that day her silence carried a weight the teacher couldn’t ignore.

“Emily, are you all right?” Miss Carter asked gently, bending down to meet the girl’s eyes.

The child hesitated, her lips trembling as if she were about to reveal a forbidden secret. Finally, she leaned closer and whispered:

“I’m afraid to go home.”

The words froze the teacher. She kept her voice steady.

“Why, sweetheart? What’s happening at home?”

Emily quickly shook her head, as though terrified someone might overhear.

“Please… don’t tell them I told you.” Her eyes filled with tears, and she ran out of the classroom before Miss Carter could ask more.

That night, Miss Carter couldn’t sleep. Teachers often dealt with children carrying heavy burdens, but Emily’s words haunted her. She debated calling child protective services immediately, though she had so little information. By the next morning, when Emily didn’t show up to school, the teacher’s concern turned into alarm. She contacted local authorities and relayed the girl’s fearful whisper.

The police took her statement seriously. Detective James Holloway, with twenty years of experience, was assigned to the case. He knew too well that children’s vague warnings often pointed to something grave. That afternoon, officers arrived at the Walker residence—a modest suburban home with neatly trimmed hedges and cheerful curtains that masked the tension inside.

Mr. Walker greeted them politely, insisting Emily was sick in bed. His voice was calm, but his eyes betrayed unease. When the officers asked to see her, his reluctance only deepened their suspicions. After a moment’s hesitation, he allowed them inside.

Upstairs, Emily sat silently on her bed, pale and withdrawn. She avoided eye contact, clutching a stuffed bunny. Something felt terribly wrong. The officers asked routine questions, but Emily barely responded. Only when her father stepped out of the room did she whisper, almost inaudibly:

“Please… don’t make me go back down there.”

“Down where?” Detective Holloway asked softly.

Emily’s eyes shifted toward the floorboards, then to the door, her small hands trembling.

Within the next hour, police searched the property. The basement door was secured with a heavy padlock. Mr. Walker claimed it was “just storage.” But when officers forced it open, a rancid stench wafted up the stairs. Flashlights cut through the darkness, revealing a hidden section behind a false wall. What they discovered inside left even the most hardened detectives stunned.

The “storage” wasn’t an ordinary basement. It was a concealed chamber, equipped with restraints, old mattresses, and evidence that more than one child had been held there. The secret Emily had hinted at was far worse than anyone could have imagined…
full story: https://celebritytimess.com/dung1/the-girl-whispered-to-the-teacher-im-afraid-to-go-home-the-next-day-the-police-discovered-a-terrifying-secret-in-the-dark-basement-2/

09/16/2025

On My 34th Birthday, I Invited Everyone to Dinner at Six. I Only Asked That They Arrive by 6:45; No Gifts Needed. At 7:12, I Received a Message From My Sister Saying It Was Too Long a Drive Just for a Birthday…

I turned thirty-four. My invitation read: “Dinner starts at 6:00. No gifts, just your presence.”
By 6:45, I realized no one was coming.

At 7:12 p.m., my sister texted: “Too far to drive just for a birthday. Sorry.”

My mother added: “Maybe next weekend. We’re exhausted.”

I didn’t argue. I simply logged into the foundation account I had created two years ago to support them, deleted all authorized names except mine, and then sent a one-line email:
“As of today, I am suspending all support. At midnight, the ATM is no longer available.”

My sister called twelve times. Then, an automatic notification lit up my phone. What it said completely changed my next step.

I had prepared their favorite dishes. My mother loved my lemon roast chicken. My sister, Ila, used to ask me for my rosemary potatoes every time she went through a breakup. I sat at the head of the table, the food cooling, my jaw tight. I had been through this before. Not at this exact table, but in the same silence, the same avoidance.

The notification read: Bank transfer declined: insufficient authorization. Below was the account name: Martin Family Relief Foundation. The sender: Cheryl Martin, my mother. She had just tried to transfer $3,200—the same woman who, only hours earlier, couldn’t drive “so far” for her son’s birthday dinner.

In that moment, the veil lifted completely. My role in this family had always been the same: provider, ghost, a bank with a heart. I wasn’t celebrated; I was depended on. Two years ago, when my father’s heart attack wiped out their savings, I was the one who quietly set up a fund and began channeling money to them every month. They called it the “family cushion.” They used it like an ATM.

When Ila lost her job for the third time, I paid her rent. When Mom’s car broke down, I transferred $600 within an hour. When my cousin Devon wanted to rebuild his credit, I co-signed a loan. I never saw anything in return. Not even a thank-you card.

The worst part is that they never asked how I was doing. Not when I worked seventy-hour weeks to keep my job as a senior project lead. Not when I canceled vacations to send them emergency transfers. I was useful, not loved.

I scrolled through the foundation’s transaction history. My stomach turned. Ila had withdrawn $1,000 three weeks ago, labeled “professional development.” That was the same weekend she posted bikini photos from Cancún with the caption: “Catch me where the vibes are strong.” Devon withdrew $500 for “car repairs.” He doesn’t even own a car—but he does play poker at the highway casino.

They hadn’t forgotten my birthday. They had simply decided it wasn’t worth their time.

At 1:03 a.m., I wrote each of them an individual email:
You’ve withdrawn more than money. You’ve drained my time, my energy, my joy. I gave without asking. You took without limits. With immediate effect, I withdraw as well. The foundation is closed. I am no longer your financial plan. Happy belated birthday.

Then I turned off my phone.
full story: https://celebritytimess.com/dung1/on-my-34th-birthday-i-invited-everyone-over-for-dinner-at-six-all-i-asked-was-that-they-come-over-at-645-no-gifts-needed-at-712-i-got-a-text-from-my-sister-saying-it-was-a-long-trip-just-for-a-2/

09/16/2025

I Knew My Ex-Wife Was Marrying a Poor Man, So I Went to Mock Her — But When I Saw the Groom, I Went Home and Cried All Night…

She and I had been in love for four years during university. She was sweet, always patient, and loved me unconditionally. But after graduation, I quickly landed a well-paid job at a foreign company, while she spent months struggling to find work, until she finally got a job as a receptionist.

Back then, I thought I had the right to choose.

I left her for the director’s daughter — someone who, in my mind, would help me rise faster in my career.

She cried her heart out the day I coldly broke up with her.

But I didn’t care.

I believed she wasn’t good enough for me.

Five years later, I had become deputy director of the sales department.

But my marriage was nothing like I had imagined.

My current wife constantly despised me and criticized me for earning a “modest” salary — despite working in her father’s company. Every day I had to walk on eggshells, fearing her mood swings… and my father-in-law’s as well.

One day, I heard news about her.

She was getting married.

A friend told me:
— “Do you know who she’s marrying? A laborer without a cent. She really doesn’t know how to pick a man!”

I laughed scornfully. In my mind, I pictured her in a cheap wedding dress, her face aged from years of hardship.

I decided to go to the wedding — not to congratulate her, but to mock her. To prove how wrong she had been.

That day, I dressed elegantly and arrived in a luxury car. The moment I stepped into the courtyard, all eyes turned to me.

I felt superior.

But then… I saw the groom.

He wore a simple suit, but his face — it struck me like lightning.

It was far too familiar.

I walked closer, my heart pounding wildly.

And then I realized — it was…
full story: https://celebritytimess.com/dung1/i-went-to-make-fun-of-my-ex-at-his-wedding-to-a-poor-man-but-when-i-saw-the-groom-i-went-home-and-cried-all-night/

09/16/2025

CEO Mocked a Poor Mechanic: “Fix This Engine and I’ll Marry You” — Then He Did It…

The boardroom on the 50th floor of Automotive Mendoza vibrated with tension when CEO Isabel Mendoza, heiress to a €2 billion empire, came face-to-face with the greatest failure of her career: a revolutionary engine that no engineer had been able to make work.

In her glass-and-steel office overlooking Madrid stood 12 of the best engineers in Europe, who had spent 6 months working in vain on the prototype.

Isabel, 29 years old and infamous for her arrogance, was about to lose a €500 million contract with SEAT when a janitor knocked on the door. It was Carlos Ruiz, 32, a former Formula 1 mechanic fallen from grace, now cleaning offices to survive.

With just one look at the engine, he said: “Ma’am, I know what’s wrong.”

Isabel burst into mocking laughter and, in front of all the executives, issued the most reckless challenge of her life:

“If you manage to fix this engine that 12 engineers couldn’t repair, I’ll marry you.”

The room fell silent.

Carlos looked her straight in the eyes and replied: “I accept.”

What happened in the hours that followed not only changed the fate of the company but also the lives of two people whom destiny had decided to test in the most unexpected way.

The 50th floor of the Automotive Mendoza skyscraper dominated Madrid’s skyline as a monument to Spanish industrial power.

Behind the glass walls of the most prestigious office, Isabel Mendoza, the 29-year-old third-generation CEO, stared with growing frustration at the engine that threatened to destroy the empire her grandfather had built.

Six months earlier, Automotive Mendoza had signed the most important contract in its history: to supply SEAT with a revolutionary hybrid engine for a new limited-edition hypercar. €500 million were at stake.

A figure that would have permanently consolidated the company’s position among the global leaders in automotive technology.

The project seemed perfect on paper. The research and development team had designed a powertrain that combined a traditional B1 with a cutting-edge electric system.

Simulations showed extraordinary performance: 100 horsepower, near-zero emissions, unprecedented energy efficiency. But reality turned out very different.

The prototype stubbornly refused to function properly. Every ignition attempt ended with abnormal vibrations, unexplained overheating, and a metallic noise that made the technicians shudder.
full story:
https://celebritytimess.com/dung1/ceo-mocked-a-poor-mechanic-fix-this-engine-and-ill-marry-you-then-he-did-it/

09/16/2025

The Adopted Son Drove His Mother Out of the House… Without Knowing She Was Hiding a Shocking Secret That Would Make Him Regret It Forever…

News spread quickly throughout the small barangay in Bulacan: Nanay Lita had been thrown out of her own home by the very adopted child she had cared for all his life. Neighbors whispered, pitied her, and judged. Everyone knew Nanay Lita as a gentle woman. Her husband had died young, and with no biological children of her own, she adopted Jun — a baby abandoned at the steps of San Roque Church — when he was just a few months old. The whole neighborhood praised her, calling her “blessed” because the boy grew up healthy, intelligent, and well-educated.

But as Jun grew older, he changed. Having secured a stable job in Quezon City and built a wide network of friends, his personality began to shift. He started criticizing the poor community he grew up in and became disrespectful to his mother. The house Nanay Lita had slowly built over many years, Jun renovated, added new floors to, and then transferred the title into his own name. She stayed quiet, even felt joy, believing her son had ambition — that one day, he would be her source of comfort and security.

The tragedy struck on a rainy afternoon. Neighbors witnessed Jun’s furious shouts echoing from inside the home:

“Ma, get out! This is my house. I don’t want to live with someone who only holds me back. I’m sick and tired of it!”

Nanay Lita froze. Her eyes clouded, her hands trembled as she clutched a worn cloth bag, quietly stepping out of the house that once rang with laughter. The neighbors sighed: “Ungrateful adopted child!”

No one knew that inside that bag, she carried a shocking secret — the secret of more than ₱500 million worth of assets she had quietly saved and hidden away for years.

The story seemed like nothing more than a family dispute, but it opened the door to an unexpected journey — where a mother’s love, a son’s greed, and the true meaning of life would slowly come to light.

Nanay Lita closed the wooden door behind her, leaving a bundle of keys on the stairs. The sound of the rain outside the balcony blended with the pounding of her heart. Her frail figure slowly disappeared into the night, leaving Jun standing in the middle of a brightly lit house — but one that suddenly felt unbearably empty.

What no one knew was that inside that old cloth bag, along with a few sets of clothes, were bankbooks, CTDs, legal papers, and clues about a hidden family fortune — enough to completely turn Jun’s life upside down. And when he discovered it… it might already be too late, leaving him with a regret that would haunt him for the rest of his life.
full story: https://celebritytimess.com/dung1/adopted-son-kicked-his-mother-out-of-home-didnt-know-he-was-hiding-a-surprising-secret-that-made-him-regret-it/

09/16/2025

The Billionaire Invited His Ex-Wife to His Wedding—But No One Expected Her to Arrive With Two Children Who Looked Exactly Like Him…
The wedding of the city's youngest billionaire was the most anticipated event in high society. But no one expected that the one who would shock the entire hall wouldn’t be the bride… but the groom’s ex-wife—who showed up late, holding the hands of two children whose faces looked exactly like him.
At 35, the billionaire—CEO of a renowned tech conglomerate—was preparing to walk down the aisle with a glamorous model, ten years his junior, known for her striking beauty and powerful ties in showbiz.
This event wasn’t just the start of a new chapter in his personal life—it was a public declaration of his dominance in the elite financial world. The guest list was star-studded, featuring international investors, tech moguls, and A-list celebrities. Everyone was buzzing with excitement, expecting a once-in-a-lifetime wedding spectacle.
But the most talked-about element wasn’t the bride’s million-dollar dress or her massive diamond ring—it was one unexpected name on the guest list: the billionaire’s ex-wife.
Three years ago, the two had quietly divorced. No press coverage, no lawsuits, no property battles. Their story ended as abruptly as it began.
Everyone thought she was just another lucky woman who had the chance to marry a billionaire but failed to keep his heart.
She vanished from public view. No one knew where she went or what she did.
Meanwhile, he focused on growing his empire, becoming the face of a new generation of tycoons.
So why had he invited a woman long forgotten by the media to his wedding?
Maybe he didn’t know the reason himself. Maybe it was courtesy… or maybe a lingering memory that never quite faded.
“Just send her an invitation,” he once told his assistant while compiling the guest list. “I’m curious to see how she’s doing.”
The ceremony began in a serene and elegant ambiance. The bride walked in to soft, romantic music—her beauty almost divine, drawing admiring stares from everyone.
He stood at the end of the aisle, poised and confident—but his eyes kept drifting toward the main doors… as if waiting for someone.
And then… just as the vows were about to be exchanged, the doors swung open once more.
The entire hall turned around. The person who entered left everyone speechless.
It was his ex-wife—wearing a simple yet elegant dress—walking hand-in-hand with two children, around five or six years old.
But what stunned the crowd even more… was how much the two children looked like him.
From their eyes, their nose, to that signature half-smile—there was no mistaking it.
They were his mirror image.
He stood frozen.
Amid the stunned murmurs and hushed whispers, she remained composed.
She said nothing.
Just quietly led the two children to the last row of seats and sat down.
The wedding coordinator hesitated. The bride, upon seeing them, went pale—but managed to keep her poise and continued walking toward the altar.
She knew that on this day, no hint of negativity could be allowed.
But his eyes… ever since that moment, had not once looked at his bride.
They remained fixed on his ex-wife and those two children.
The ceremony went on, but every eye in the hall was glued to the back row.
No one listened to the MC. No one cared about the singer’s performance.
There was only one question echoing in everyone’s mind:
“Are those kids… his?”
After the ceremony, the reception carried on in a strange, tense atmosphere.
Some guests awkwardly avoided the ex-wife’s table, while others deliberately walked past her to get a closer look at the kids.
The groom couldn’t focus.
He kept checking his watch.
And finally, he excused himself from the head table, claiming there was urgent business to handle.
In truth, he walked straight over to her.
“Can we talk… just for a moment?”
She looked at him, nodded silently.
They stepped out into the garden behind the luxurious mansion where the reception was held.
For a few seconds, silence thickened the air between them.
Then he finally spoke.
“…Those kids…”
full story: https://celebritytimess.com/dung1/the-billionaire-invited-his-ex-wife-to-his-wedding-but-no-one-expected-her-to-arrive-with-two-children-who-looked-exactly-like-him/

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