Adult

I ended up sleeping with the deaf-mute college boy my husband and I had been sponsoring.

While my husband brought his secretary home and took her to bed, I was in the next room, tangled up endlessly with the boy he had sponsored.

He bit his lip, trying to hold back, his face flushed, his eyes hazy.

He typed on his phone and played it aloud through text-to-speech: “Stop! Please don’t touch me there!”

Neither of us expected the volume to be so loud that my husband in the next room heard it.

In the fifth year of our marriage, I got pregnant, and Fu Chi wept with joy.

Everyone said I was lucky, that I had married an up-and-coming tycoon like Fu Chi.

But no one ever mentioned the actress he was keeping on the side.

It was as if everyone had forgotten that I, too, was the girl he had confessed to at seventeen, his eyes red-rimmed with emotion.

Behind his back, one of his friends warned him, “You’re being such a bastard. Aren’t you afraid Xu Man will divorce you?”

Fu Chi had nothing to fear. He only gave a lazy smile and said, “She won’t.”

Later, without making a scene or saying a word, I aborted the child.

When the news got out, Fu Chi flew back from London overnight.

Six years after our divorce, I ran into my ex-husband on a street corner while holding my three-year-old daughter.

He stared blankly at the girl in my arms for a long time before knitting his brows. “She’s almost six years old,” he said, his voice laced with accusation. “Why does she look so thin and small?”

Ha!

He actually thought the child I was holding was his.

I suppose he believed I loved him so deeply that even after he cheated and divorced me, I would have gone off and raised his child all on my own.

My younger sister eloped with a penniless scholar, and her cold-hearted fiancé broke down my door, demanding that I take her place.

I was so scared I clutched my waistband and begged for mercy.

“Brother-in-law, how can you blame this on me?”

The two cinnabar moles beneath his eyes were as red as blood, and his tone was utterly indifferent.

“An elder sister is like a mother. In other words, every grievance has its culprit, and every debt has its debtor.”

“So, are you coming with me on your own, or am I dragging you away?”

Th-thrilling. Was this the domineering forced-love plot they wrote about in storybooks?

The weak could not fight the strong, so I was just about to get out of bed when I realized my sister had run off wearing the only pair of padded winter pants in the house.

Left with no choice, I lay right back down.

“Forget it. It’s freezing out, so let’s not move.”

“If you’re going to seize me, then seize me. Hurry up, while the blankets are still warm…”

“…”

-A laid-back heroine who sleeps through the abduction x an action-oriented hero who carries on abducting while she sleeps.

I am the Empress.

The Emperor wished to take my maid as a concubine, claiming that any child she bore would be recorded under my name.

Later, the imperial physician informed me that I had been pregnant for a month.

I said to the Emperor, “In consideration of your many years without an heir, I shall have this child recorded under your name.”

I was abducted as a child, but because I had fair skin and a pretty face,

I was carefully trained into a temptress made to ensnare wealthy young masters.

That night, in the most extravagant luxury suite in Macau,

Zhao Rongzheng lay there, languid and sated, his gaze falling on me as I wept like a flower in the rain.

“Stop crying. I’ll pay off your brother’s debt for him. From now on, you stay with me.”

I took the money, coaxed him with sweet words, and then vanished without a trace.

Five years later, news that the Seventh Young Master of the Zhao Family was divorcing his wife to marry a widow shook all of Hong Kong.

Zhao Rongzheng, now the man in power over the Zhao Family, personally stepped forward to handle this sordid scandal.

Seated high above me, he looked down at my meek, submissive, pitifully vulnerable appearance.

“What is it? Does every man in the Zhao Family have to fall into your hands at least once?”

I am the most unwanted true heiress in the capital.

My mother took one look at the rough, simple-minded girl who had grown up on the frontier and acted as though she wanted nothing to do with me.

She gave me a purse of silver and coldly sent me away. “Consider it your dowry.”

I was about to leave with my head hanging when my elder brother and half-sister stopped me.

My brother saw that I was beautiful and wanted to use me to win over powerful men.

My half-sister thought I was a fool and wanted to keep me as the maid who washed her feet.

My mother burst into tears and tried desperately to drive me away.

That was when I realized she had never refused to acknowledge me—she was afraid she could not protect me.

The servants tried to hold me there by force.

In the struggle, a jade pendant fell from my sleeve.

My half-sister’s face changed the instant she saw it. “Where did you steal this?”

I answered honestly, “A gentleman with an eye condition gave it to me after I saved his life.”

I transmigrated into the story as the male lead’s sex-crazed wife. Every day, I pestered him to do it with me, endlessly demanding and never knowing restraint.

The couch, the bedroom, the kitchen, the floor-to-ceiling windows…

Only when the hatred value soared to 99 did I realize in horror that I hadn’t transmigrated into a smut novel at all, but a clean romance!

Su Yu was actually the kind of male lead who was cold and abstinent when it came to sex!

From then on, I lived in constant fear, treading on eggshells and never daring to cling to him again. As soon as night fell, I’d head to a hotel and not come home.

I even took the initiative to ask for a divorce.

I hoped it would make him hate me a little less.

But the man finally snapped. Eyes red, he erupted and locked me down in a pathologically unrestrained grip, every word crazed:

“Why don’t you cling to me anymore?”

“Is it because I’m getting old, or because that XL one outside has already satisfied your appetite?”

I run a brothel staffed by men.

But my courtesans don’t cater to men with a taste for other men.

They serve women with perfectly ordinary needs.

I named the place the Hundred Stallions House.

I don’t actually have a hundred male courtesans, of course, but I do have quite a few.

Gentle, aloof, strapping, dangerously obsessive—we have every type imaginable.

Our clients range from widowed officials’ wives to farm women who have lost their husbands, and even wandering swordswomen.

Now and then, a noble young lady sneaks out to satisfy her curiosity.

All in all, business is booming.

But there are complications.

Take that judicial officer from the Capital Prefecture, for example.

He has tried every trick in the book to shut down my Hundred Stallions House.

So when the opportunity presented itself, I drugged him.

Then I locked him in the woodshed out back.

I transmigrated and became an ancient beast of burden, with signs that I might be headed toward the life of a chicken or duck next.

My major didn’t teach me how to make soap or explosives, and the market’s invisible hand wasn’t about to scoop me up either.

Maybe if I’d transmigrated into the ruling class, I might have wanted to stay in this dynasty.

But I know one thing very clearly: I just want to go home.