Drama

I was scammed by a real estate agent into moving into a Columbarium. To my surprise, the place was already occupied by a handsome, young, and tsundere ghost. When I took a closer look, I was even more shocked-it turned out we were old acquaintances.

When the master hosts a banquet, he often has beautiful women serve wine.

If a guest refuses to drink, the beauty is executed on the spot.

Unluckily, I am that unfortunate beauty.

Tonight’s guest of honor is an aloof and distinguished scholar, Yan Xuan.

First cup: he complained the wine was cold and wouldn’t drink. A sword swung, a head fell.

Second cup: he complained the server was vulgar and wouldn’t drink. Blood splattered on the spot.

By the third cup, the serving maid pleaded pitifully, but his expression never changed.

Now it’s my turn to offer wine.

The swordsman beside me sharpened his blade ominously.

I raised my hand and splashed the wine across his face.

“Are you just asking for it?”

Sold for two jin of millet during a devastating famine, eight-year-old A-Xi enters Yichun House with only the fiercely loyal Zhao Si at her side.

Across years of loss, friendship, betrayal, and revenge, she watches women condemned by class and custom struggle to claim the one thing the world denies them: the right to choose their own lives.

When old dynasties and old cages finally begin to crumble, A-Xi must decide what freedom means—and whether returning home can ever restore what was taken from her.

I was born in Qingshi Town, the daughter of a respectable family who ran a rice shop.

Later, I ended up living under someone else’s roof at the Censor’s Mansion, serving as a maid.

The Second Young Master wanted to take me as his concubine, but I said that Colonel Chao from Kaizhou was my Brother-in-law. They did not believe me.

It was not until the mansion hosted a banquet for guests that Lord Chao, the former bandit chief, accidentally crushed the wine cup in his hand and smiled at Zhang Censor, saying, “I hear your Second Young Master wishes to take my wife’s younger sister as a concubine?”

It was my fifth year since transmigrating from a smut novel into ancient times.

My body had been feeling worse and worse.

Then one day, I coughed up a mouthful of blood from my heart.

I knew that if I did not have a man to relieve me, I would die when my body burst apart.

Just then, lines of floating comments suddenly appeared before my eyes.

[The Male Lead has been afflicted with Lust Poison tonight. What a shame the Female Lead hasn’t appeared yet. The Female Supporting Character will have to detoxify him instead.]

The Male Lead was my eldest brother, a man as pure as a clear breeze and bright moon, cold and aloof.

But I was neither the Female Lead, nor the Female Supporting Character, nor Female Character N.

I was only an adopted daughter with the role of Background Character A.

Being Background Character A meant I could do anything.

So under cover of night, dressed in nothing but a layer of gauze,

I secretly slipped into my brother’s room.

I’ve been stalking my husband’s mistress.

She lives a glamorous life-she resides in a villa in an upscale neighborhood, drives a car worth millions, and is a pampered heiress.

Even when she’s out on a date with my husband, she has to be home by a certain time.

“I’m sorry, my father is very strict,” she would say.

To defend my marriage, I secretly took some photos and sent a message to that strict father of hers.

“Did you know your daughter is someone’s mistress?” It took a long time before he finally replied. “I know.” “I’m the one she’s cheating on.”

Ten years into our marriage, my husband began lavishing attention on a Transmigrator outside our home.

While the two of them were in the throes of their affair, that Transmigrator, in all her ignorance, came to make a scene before me.

“As expected of a feudal relic trapped in the inner residence until death. You think everyone is like you, unable to live without a man. You underestimated me and belittled him. Apologize.”

I sat in my warm, cushioned sedan chair, my head propped lazily on one hand, without even lifting my eyes.

“Slap her mouth. Use the roughest bamboo paddle.”

This feudal relic might not have much else, but my rank was a little higher, and my methods a little harsher.

So when they beat her, they put a little more force into it.

For six years after marrying into Xiping Marquis Manor, I spent six years a living widow.

My husband was stationed at the Northern Frontier, yet somehow found time in the midst of his duties to fall madly in love with another woman.

She was beautiful and strong, able to ride tall warhorses, wield a long spear, and read the art of war.

She fought shoulder to shoulder with my husband on the battlefield, killing the enemy.

The people and soldiers of the border city all called her the General’s Lady.

As for me, the true General’s Lady, no one even knew I existed. She was the eagle of the Northern Frontier.

I was a sparrow trapped in the inner courtyard.

But disaster was already creeping closer.

My father was a treacherous official.

The man who raided my home was my fiancé.

When he slipped the iron chain around my neck, his touch was even more tender than the year he placed a flower wreath upon my head.

On the day my father was beheaded in public, I was calmly picking lice off my mother. I remarked, “If I had a fire, I could stir-fry these lice and pair them with a pot of wine.”

Unexpectedly, my words drew a laugh from the young general in the neighboring cell, despite the hooks driven through his collarbones. Was it that funny?

My father had many illegitimate daughters.

Some were brilliantly talented, some were gifted in song and dance, and others possessed breathtaking beauty.

He scoured the world for beauties, siring one little belle after another.

Among them all, his favorite was Xidai.

Consequently, she was the one I hated most.

“She is the most beautiful and has a timid nature. She’ll be the safest choice to accompany you when you marry into the Wang Family,”

Father said, “I am not being partial; I am doing this for your own good.”

But I thought to myself: his actions did not match his words.