Historical

Eternal Autumn

Mother often taught me, “A principal wife must have the grace to accept others.”

I was born into a prestigious family as its eldest legitimate daughter. From the day I entered this world, it was destined that even if my future husband was not a prince, nobleman, general, or minister, he would at least be the eldest legitimate son of a family equal to mine in status.

A man destined to inherit his family’s legacy and become the head of his clan was, in all likelihood, never going to be monogamous.

And so, from my earliest childhood until the day I married, I heard the same lesson over and over again: “A principal wife must have the grace to accept others.”

The Grand Tutor

“Miaoren, this beauty mark of yours is truly lovely.”

Xuan Changjun lifted my bridal veil. By the light of a small lamp, he reached out and gently brushed the tiny mark at the corner of my eye.

I smiled at him. “Husband, is this beauty mark the only lovely thing about me?”

He did not answer. Instead, he said, “Xuan’er has a beauty mark just like it. It makes her look especially lively.”

I nodded and told him, “Wait a moment.”

Turning around, I fetched paper, brush, and ink from the writing desk and spread them out before him. “Go on. Write it.”

He looked up at me. “Write what?”

I straightened the tinkling jeweled flower in my hair and said unhurriedly, “A divorce letter.”

Xuan Changjun chuckled softly. “Miaoren, there are seven grounds upon which a man may divorce his wife. You have committed none of them, so how could I write such a letter?”

“Oh?” I lazily propped my chin on one hand while scraping the lid of my teacup with the other. “And what are these seven grounds?”

“A wife may be cast out for seven reasons: disobedience to her parents-in-law, childlessness, adultery, jealousy, serious illness, excessive talkativeness, or theft.”

I nodded, rose to my feet, and stood across from him.

“Go fuck yourself!”

I kicked him over. He toppled backward onto the bed and sank into the red silk wedding quilt embroidered with mandarin ducks.

“Y-you… Miaoren! You, you…” Struggling upright, he clutched his chest and stared at me in shock.

Taking up the brush, I neatly drafted the divorce letter for him:

There is now a wicked woman in this household. She is unfilial to her parents-in-law, disobedient to her husband, and disrespectful to her elder brother- and sister-in-law. She is therefore cast out.

“All you need to do is press your thumbprint onto it,” I said. “Otherwise, I’ll turn the entire Xuan Family upside down. Today I kicked you over. Tomorrow, I’ll dare to beat your father, curse your mother, ruin your family’s reputation, and squander your fortune. Changjun, you should simply accept your fate.”

“Miaoren, why are you doing this?” Xuan Changjun had been a scholar before entering officialdom, so he did not panic when trouble arose. Once he had caught his breath, he said, “I only married you because you liked me.”

“Oh, Changjun, that may be the most absurd joke under heaven!” I clapped my hands, sat down in the armchair, and lowered my head to peel a grape. “Do you know who I am? I am the Grand Tutor, an official of the first rank. Even His Majesty must courteously address me as his teacher. And what are you? A newly crowned Literary Champion. What official rank can you even expect to receive? I lowered myself to marry beneath my station, yet you somehow have the nerve to claim I married you because I liked you?”

Xuan Changjun’s face alternated between red and white. After a long silence, he finally managed to say, “Since we are both scholars, you should not use your official rank to lord it over others.”

“You’re a scholar, my ass. You’re clearly a lecherous creep pretending to be some charming libertine. What a joke!” I sneered, then continued, “I’ll tell you the truth. I chose you reluctantly because I thought you were devoted and faithful, which would spare me plenty of jealous squabbles in the future. If I’d known that a beast like you was lusting after his own younger sister, I would have refused even if the emperor himself arranged the marriage. I’d have gone and beaten the emperor too!”

“You… Miaoren!”

“What? Did I say anything wrong? I’d long heard that your younger sister Changxuan looked seventy percent like me-even the beauty mark at the corner of her eye was identical to mine. I didn’t believe it at first, but after seeing her in person, I realized she truly does resemble me.”

“How could you say Xuan’er resembles you? You’re clearly the one who resembles Xuan’er!” His face flushed red with agitation.

“Say whatever you like. The divorce letter is right here. Hurry up and press your thumbprint onto it. I’ll return to my residence at once, and from this day forward, we’ll each go our separate ways.” I gave the flimsy sheet of paper a shake. “Hurry. You’re a grown man, so why are you being so indecisive?”

Even as I was leaving, he still called me Miaoren.

I told him, “Lord Xuan, I happen to love throwing my rank around. You’d better address me as Grand Tutor Yu.”

Crossing Qinghuan

The man I was to marry was a young general who had lost the use of his legs.

Rumor had it that he suffered from an unspeakable ailment and didn’t have long to live.

Later, behind the bed curtains, I discovered just how vigorous he truly was. Face burning, I shouted, “Stop bullying me!”

The man laughed hoarsely and caught my hand. “Then how about Qingqing bullies me this time?”

The General, the Scholar, and My Love Gu

The newly crowned top scholar accidentally swallowed the love gu I had meant for my absent husband.

To keep him alive, I had to share his bed every seven days until the antidote arrived.

What began as mutual resentment slowly turned dangerously tender—just as my husband, General Zhou Hanchuan, returned and recognized me as the woman he had never forgotten.

Now one man refuses to let me go, the other refuses to grant me a divorce, and I am trapped between two rivals who would sooner kill each other than give me up.

Has My Beloved Consort Cooked Today?

My father wanted me to enter the palace in my elder sister’s place, so I packed my valuables that very night and ran away.

I left the capital and traveled south toward Jiangnan through the turn of winter and spring.

Thin snow and frost-laced woods followed me most of the way, but by the time I reached Jiangnan, the grass was lush and orioles filled the air.

Drunk on the spring scenery, I spent my days roaming mountains and rivers to my heart’s content.

One day, I was crouched beside a food stall with shining eyes, waiting for a braised pork knuckle to come out of the pot, when hurried footsteps erupted behind me.

A hand seized my ear and hauled upward until I had no choice but to rise with my face twisted in pain.

My father strode out from among the servants with a mocking smile. “Yin Chuchu, agree to enter the palace for your sister, and I can overlook your running away this time.”

The emperor had ordered the Yin family to send a maiden to the imperial selection, and by custom, my eldest sister should have gone.

But she had been sickly since childhood, and Father and his concubine could not bear to send her into that man-eating palace, so they set their sights on me instead.

My own mother had died giving birth to me, and as the unsupported second daughter of the Yin household, I was someone they could squeeze however they pleased.

Was my sister made of flesh and blood while I was not?

I lowered my head, gripping the silver hairpin I had bought at the night market the evening before. “And if I refuse?”

His wrinkles bunched into a hideous mask as he laughed. “Where could you possibly hide? Unless you die, I will turn over every inch of earth to find you.”

Understanding dawned across my face, and I dipped into a graceful bow. “Thank you for granting my wish, Father.”

Then, before his stunned eyes, I drove the silver hairpin into myself.

The early-spring wind slipped cold fingers beneath my clothes as I lay on the ground, regretting only that fragrant bowl of pork knuckle.

If it had finished cooking a little sooner, perhaps I could have eaten myself to death instead.

This was the seventh time I had died, and frankly, I was tired of it.

Number One in the Harem

After ten years of training for the wrong kind of ‘dance,’ the formidable Li Rourou must win an emperor’s favor or die.

Her strength, appetite, and spectacular misunderstandings turn every elegant harem scheme into chaos.

While the emperor plays rival clans against one another, Rourou blunders through assassination attempts, poisoned soup, princely feuds, and a brewing coup.

When imperial gratitude proves dangerously short-lived, she discovers that becoming the harem’s number one woman may require replacing the man at its center.

Osmanthus

My young mistress was a transmigrator.

She declared arranged marriage unacceptable and ruined the match between me and the childhood sweetheart I had hoped to marry.

Then she insisted that women should not be trapped inside the home and forced me to enlist with her.

We became separated from our unit and stranded in a vast desert without water.

I risked my life to obtain two barrels of water from desert bandits and repeatedly warned her to ration it.

While I slept, she used every drop to wash her hair and bathe.

I died of thirst, while she emerged spotless and was rescued by the passing Crown Prince.

When I opened my eyes again, I had returned to the day she first tried to persuade me to enlist.

Pomegranate Blossoms Aflame

On my birthday, the Fourth Princess and I both set our hearts on the same pomegranate-blossom crown.

At a loss, Father told each of us to choose a young man from the imperial clan to ride and shoot on our behalf.

Whoever struck the kite first after it was released would win.

I chose Qin Yan, my dearest childhood friend.

I knew he could hit the mark with his eyes closed, and I was certain he would make my wish come true.

But all three of his arrows missed by a hair.

I hid in the attic and wept after losing, until Qin Yan came to find me and finally snapped in exasperation, “That enormous gold crown would never have suited you. Jade is better. Plain, pure, and far easier on the eyes.”

“Stop competing with the Fourth Princess over everything.”

Then, with the solemn patience of someone offering hard-won wisdom, he said, “Jiajia, you need to understand that sometimes being right for something matters more than winning it.”

I took his lesson to heart.

So years later, when Father held trials to choose my prince consort, Qin Yan placed first in both the civil and martial examinations.

And I still did not choose him.

In My Own Good Time

On our wedding night, my husband told me something plainly.

His heart belonged to Concubine Song, and there could never be anything between him and me.

I was not to use my position as the lady of the household to make Concubine Song’s life difficult.

Furious, I tore off my bridal veil and gave him two choices.

Either we went to his parents together and asked what exactly they meant by arranging this marriage.

Or he brought Concubine Song to me so the three of us could settle matters face-to-face.

He feared I would bully his beloved concubine, while I feared she would use his favor to humiliate his lawful wife.

After a brief hesitation, my husband chose to summon her.

The three of us sat down and agreed on three rules.

First, Concubine Song was never to set foot in my main courtyard, and anything that happened if she did would be her own responsibility; the same rule applied to me.

Second, since my husband refused to consummate our marriage that night, we would never share a bed for the rest of our lives.

Third, if his parents pressed us for an heir, he would deal with them, and if I suffered punishment or loss because of it, he would compensate me.

My husband’s face turned glacial as he signed the agreement in a fury.

From that day on, he never entered my room again.

Concubine Song basked in her victory and laughed at me for giving up the finest man in the world.

The two of them settled into their sweet little romance.

I was too busy building a life of my own to spare them a thought.

But three years later, my husband stepped into my courtyard with an uneasy look on his face.

I knew at once that he regretted everything-and that he wanted to sleep with me.

I said calmly, “Let’s divorce.”

The Cry of Moss

Mother ascended to heaven.

She left me two things: an old yellow dog and a manual for cultivating immortality.

Oh, and one promise.

“Whenever someone beats you, shout your mother’s name three times, and I will come save you.”

I never shouted.

Father had seldom used his fists lately; he had heard that girls in our area had suddenly become valuable, and a wounded one would fetch a poor price.