Comedy

In the year when I was at my most spineless, the Noble Consort called me oversensitive.

That very night, I took a rope to her bedchamber, intending to hang myself beside her bed.

Fortunately, she found me in time and rescued me in tears.

Later, a beauty newly arrived at the palace called me as stupid as a pig.

I said nothing.

I simply took out my rope.

The Noble Consort said nothing either.

She just kept slapping her.

“Even I daren’t scold her.

Who do you think you are?”

As the oldest unmarried young adult in my family, I had been suffering under the pressure to get married for years.

Eventually, I simply gave up fighting it.

My mom said she was so worried she could not sleep.

So I drove two hundred kilometers overnight, got home at three in the morning, stood by her bed, and pried her eyelids open.

My mom said everyone in the family was laughing at her because I refused to get married.

The next second, I tagged everyone in the family group chat:

[My mom says everyone is laughing at her because I won’t get married. I came to ask, who exactly is laughing at her? @everyone]

My cousin was the first to start a message chain:

[Your little cousin is not laughing at her.]

Then came an orderly line of replies:

[Auntie is not laughing at her.]

[Uncle is not laughing at her.]

[Second Cousin is not laughing at her.]

[Dad is not laughing at her.]

[…]

Mother always said that if a woman wanted to stay radiant, she had to know how to nourish herself.

Ginseng and deer antler were useless.

What truly nourished a woman was a young, vigorous man.

Following that regimen, she still looked sixteen well into her forties.

Having grown up under her influence, I understood the secret by the time I turned eighteen.

Scholars were lean, generals solid, actors charming.

I had sampled them all.

The one I found most intoxicating was Shen Zhaoye.

I lavished mountains of gold and silver on him, yet never so much as put an arm around his waist.

Then he came to take his leave, claiming he had found a more powerful patron.

Furious, I followed him by lantern light into Springwater Lane.

When I kicked open the door, he was kneeling beside a couch, offering tea to someone.

The beauty reclining there lifted her eyes lazily.

My lantern went out, and my soul nearly fled with the flame.

“Mother?! You’re sleeping with my man?”

My best friend was a top-tier Alpha, but he had a medical condition.

Pheromone overload.

If he didn’t get the excess out of his system, it could kill him.

So I, a Beta, volunteered to be his pheromone storage tank.

I was a Beta, after all.

The scent wouldn’t stay on me for more than a couple of days anyway.

Except that, before long, my best friend was sinking his teeth into my neck every few days.

Wait.

Had his condition really gotten that bad?

Dude!

Keep biting me and people are going to start wondering what we are to each other!

The women in the detention center didn’t much like me.

Among all those streetwise girls, I was the only one who wore glasses.

When they finally asked what I’d done, I told them: I’d stolen five thousand yuan from my parents to go to Peking University.

They laughed and called me an unlucky kid.

The day I got out, my parents didn’t come.

A battered van did.

Blondie rolled down the window and told me to get in.

She was taking me to the station.

Lin Wanrou was twenty-four this year, an old maiden who still had not married.

Madam Lin’s standards for a son-in-law had fallen from imperial kin to any promising young talent with ambition.

She refused to believe that, with the Grand General’s influence, she could not raise up one dragon among men as her son-in-law.

Lin Wanrou did not want to marry. She would rather stay at home for the rest of her life.

When I was twenty-five, I had a child with one of the most powerful heirs in Beijing’s elite circle.

There was no future for two people as unequal as us, so I took the money and opportunities the He family offered and broke up with him.

Then, five years later, during a break on set.

A little boy who looked strikingly like He Jinnan came looking for me.

He pursed his lips, aggrieved yet stubbornly proud.

“My dad is He Jinnan,” he said.

“And you’re my mom.”

I looked at him and gave a faint hum of acknowledgment.

He hurriedly pulled a thick wad of cash from his backpack.

His eyes were full of pleading.

“Can I hire you for one day to come to my parent-teacher meeting?”

I’m a fanfic writer with nearly a million followers on Big-Eyed Guy.

My OTP? A wildly popular young actress and a famous up-and-coming director.

Soon, self-media accounts across the entire internet would be required to register under their real names, and verified influencers with over a million followers would be the first batch to go public.

The moment I got wind of it, I deleted my account and ran.

Because I was that wildly popular young actress.

But netizens loved drama far too much to let it go. They started posting gossip threads across every major social media platform: Girl, who the hell are you?

Ah Shuang transmigrates into an imperial harem as an ordinary palace maid with one mission: lie low until the story ends and earn five million yuan. Unfortunately, every attempt to avoid attention is mistaken for brilliant strategy, propelling her from lowly servant to the most trusted—and misunderstood—woman in the palace. Between feuding consorts, ambitious princes, accidental prophecies, and a return trip she never planned, Ah Shuang must survive the legends everyone else keeps inventing about her.

I cultivate the Way of Detachment, but I don’t prove my enlightenment by killing a husband—I temper my mind by getting cheated on.

After three cultivation partners betray me in increasingly absurd ways, every heartbreak becomes a breakthrough, until I ascend on the spot and discover just how useful infidelity can be.