Free to Read

The night I was sent into the Royal Palace, snow was falling from the heavens.

One hundred and twenty silver lamps lined the steps, but their wicks were not made of cotton; they were segments of little finger bones coated in white wax.

Everyone said that as long as I sold my last box of matches to the Crown Prince, Baili City would survive this winter.

Only I knew that the flames capable of conjuring the scent of bread, the crackle of a hearth, and the warmth of a grandmother’s smile were not blessings from God.

They were the final dreams of children who had frozen to death in the streets.

Tonight, the Royal Palace was coming for mine.

My friend went on a trip to Tibet and unexpectedly vanished.

It wasn’t until much later that I discovered a tattoo on a drum that was identical to the one on her back.

I struck the human-skin drum. The sound was dull and heavy.

Suddenly, my friend burst in from outside. “Run!”

While exploring Devil City with the Decoding Science Program Team, I was looking straight into the camera, talking absolute nonsense with a straight face.

“The recent buzz surrounding the Man-eating Snake incidents is all fake. These are just ordinary Sand Snakes.”

The next second, the ground beneath us gave way, and the entire Program Team plummeted into a pit of snakes.

In Jiangnan, the Shen Family possessed a secret technique passed down through generations: the ability to embroider a person’s final appearance before they died.

For thirty years, my father embroidered for the powerful and elite, never once making a mistake.

That was until he died in his embroidery room, and on the Death Portrait before him-depicting a face bleeding from every orifice-was me.

I spent ten years in the imperial harem testing rouge, and not once did I fail to detect a single trace of poison.

That was until Consort Hua dropped dead after applying the “Drunken Beauty Red” I had personally verified.

It was then that a newly arrived talented lady told me: what truly kills isn’t the rouge, but the intent to murder.

My name is Zhou Jiu, and I’m a professional haunted-house test sleeper.

Tonight, the company assigned me a new job: the old house where my entire family burned to death fifteen years ago.

But that house had long since been reduced to a barren wasteland.

I returned with a black-and-white photograph of the fire scene.

In the shadows of that photo, a person who looked exactly like me was already waiting at the door.

A couple lived next door to me, and they were like tinder and flint-always ready to ignite.

Every night, their loud, frantic wailing kept me from getting a wink of sleep.

I tried reasoning with them, I tried cursing them out, and I even called the police, but nothing worked.

So, I decided to start pursuing his wife.

On Valentine’s Day, I went out of my way to tuck a small note inside a bouquet of roses: “Your husband hasn’t found out about us yet, has he?” Then, her husband absolutely blew his top.

Rules Rewritten by Me On my first day being pulled into the infinite game, the System announced that the survival rate for novices was a mere 3%.

However, when the broadcast read out the first death rule, I suddenly smiled.

That specific rule was the very opening I had written with my own hands three years ago.

While we were conducting a quantum computing experiment, my graduate student suddenly asked me a question. “Professor, do you know what it means when they say, ‘Primordial Chaos Gives Birth to the Two Poles’?”

I set down the equipment in my hands, but before I could speak, she began to strip off all her clothes right in front of me.

She placed my hand against her softness, her seductive eyes locked onto mine.

“Primordial Chaos Gives Birth to the Two Poles, and the Two Poles Return to One Place.” “The height of nobility is also the height of debauchery.”

My boyfriend’s manipulative junior had tried to steal him away from me one too many times. Finally, I reached my breaking point and gave him a piece of advice.

My boyfriend replied, “Got it.” The next day. The junior said, “Good morning, Senior! What a coincidence, seeing you here again.”

My boyfriend replied, “Good morning. I’m gay.” The junior: “?”