Comedy

In my tenth year as a beggar, I was so hungry I had wrapped myself around a tree and started gnawing on its bark when a young lord in brocade appeared and promised to take me to Chang’an to live in luxury.

Tears filled my eyes at once.

I knew this plot: he had to be some poor boy I once saved, now rich and powerful and eager to repay me.

I hurled myself at him and cried, “Husband!”

The young lord nearly did the splits trying to escape.

“Shut your mouth,” he shouted, “I’m your real brother!”

For ten years, I was a corporate Head of Administration.

Then I woke up as the legitimate daughter of a marquis.

Only then did I discover that I had landed in a female-led power fantasy about a maid’s rise to glory.

Blessed with the heroine halo, the maid could do everything: manage a household, run shops, organize disaster relief.

Everyone adored her.

Even my own younger brother and fiance became devoted second male leads who protected her at every turn.

In the end, the senior maid became a legendary merchant queen known throughout the realm.

I, meanwhile, grew jealous of the heroine.

Spoiled and willful, I courted disaster at every step until everyone abandoned me and I died alone in a secluded estate.

After a long silence, my professional instincts kicked in.

Household management was simply a logistics support system.

Running shops was supply-chain management.

Disaster relief was an emergency response plan.

Well, wasn’t that convenient?

She was the all-conquering maid with fate on her side.

I was an administrator trying to stay alive.

And survival began with rules.

Just as I was confessing my feelings to Lu Qinian, I suddenly learned that he was the male lead of a novel—and I was not the heroine.

I snapped on the spot, my face twisting as I yanked the love letter out of his hand.

“How could a bookish girl like me dare touch a shameless flirt like you?”

“Goodbye.”

Lu Qinian stared at me in confusion.

Later, Lu Qinian pinned me in his arms and kissed me senseless.

Between ragged breaths, he gave a cold laugh.

“I went to all that trouble seducing you, and you called me shameless?”

“You’re unbelievable.”

In my fourth year as Song Jingyuan’s kept woman, he tired of me and asked to break up.

I had meant to cry, make a scene, and threaten to kill myself to keep him, putting on the same devoted performance that had pleased him countless times before.

But the floating comments before my eyes said he meant it this time.

He had fallen for someone else, and this truly would be the last time we ever met.

I fell silent at once.

While tears slipped down my face, I hooked a bill from the floor with my little finger, rolled it into my palm, and tucked it deeper into my sleeve.

When I asked my husband of one year to end our contract marriage, he agreed without hesitation.

That same night, I found an anonymous post from a man desperate to win back the wife who wanted to divorce him.

The details were suspiciously familiar, so I created a fake account as a love guru and offered to coach him through the final month.

To my astonishment, the brilliant and untouchable CEO I had married turned out to be a shy, hopeless romantic who had loved me since high school.

As every absurd piece of advice brings us closer, I must decide whether the marriage I planned to leave is the love story I never knew I wanted.

Artifact-conservation student Lin Fu wakes in the body of the lowest-ranking maid in the imperial harem, where saving a priceless cup brings her to the attention of Emperor Qin Zhi.

Protected by the kind Empress Shen Chenxiang, she finds purpose restoring paintings, porcelain, and other damaged treasures inside a palace that destroys people far more easily than objects.

After tragedy takes her benefactor, Lin Fu is pulled into a dangerous struggle among the Emperor, the Shen clan, and the Yan clan.

To avenge the dead and protect the children entrusted to her, she must survive as the Emperor’s favored consort without allowing the harem to turn her into another weapon.

From shattered porcelain to broken friendships, every relic she repairs reveals a history of love, betrayal, and the things no pair of clever hands can ever restore.

Madam Lin is choosing a bedchamber maid for her son.

All the pretty maids are eager to be picked.

Holding my fire poker, I ask Granny Shi, “Can I roast a potato?”

Granny Shi says, “Can you please show a little sense?”

On Qixi Festival, the Chinese Valentine’s Day, my husband turned out to have another woman.

He not only paid me two hundred thousand yuan a month, but also asked me to look after her during her pregnancy.

What could I possibly say?

Tears of joy streamed helplessly down my face.

I packed overnight and moved straight into their little love nest.

Before stepping through the door, I raised my price at the last minute. “Three hundred thousand.”

Xu Chen gritted his teeth. “Deal.”

I was Sword Venerable Jiang Tingxue’s most devoted anti-fan.

I spent nearly a century slandering him from the shadows, yet he never once noticed me.

Then his cultivation was destroyed overnight, and his enemies threw him into a brothel to be humiliated.

I went there especially to laugh at him.

But when I saw the sickly beauty in a blood-soaked robe, blind eyes veiled in white, the words that came out of my mouth were not the ones I had planned.

“Hey, Jiang Tingxue, want to come with me?”

“…I suppose I could treat you a little better.”

And so, in the hundredth year of my futile obsession with Jiang Tingxue, he became the beautiful prize I kept all to myself.

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?”