Historical

Qiao Ying had transmigrated into a book. Unfortunately, kidnappers had injured her head, leaving her with amnesia.

In a dark, damp dungeon, she met a young man.

He wore robes of blue-green, his white hair as pure as snow. His face was exquisitely beautiful, but a white silk blindfold covered his eyes. Though he was disabled, he was the most optimistic person she had ever met, always smiling.

That day, the amnesiac Qiao Ying escaped the dungeon with the harmless-looking young man in tow.

The young man was a good person.

Because he was afraid of blood, even amid mountains of corpses and seas of gore, not a speck of dust stained his robes.

Because he was timid, whenever others fought, he only dared to hide far away, only for everyone to die in a poisonous mist the next moment.

Because he was kind, he offered medicine to enemies suffering in agony. Sadly, they failed to endure it and died with blood pouring from all seven orifices.

And so, she decided to marry such a good person.

Later, righteous cultivators came charging in with swords drawn, shouting that he was a monster.

That night, corpses littered the ground.

At last, she remembered the plot.

This was a bizarre, fantastical world crawling with eerie horrors.

There was a great villain who lacked the emotions of an ordinary person. He brought calamity to the world and stirred up countless conflicts, until in the end, the male and female leads sacrificed their lives to seal him away.

Amid the storm of blood and violence, the young man looked back at her.

His blue eyes were deep and uncanny. Blood spattered his face, making him look like an Asura descended upon the mortal realm. Behind him, nine fox tails unfurled with wanton grace, bewitching and breathtakingly vivid.

Qiao Ying went deathly pale with fright.

But he only smiled softly. “If you’re scared and want to run, it’s too late-”

Before he could finish, Qiao Ying ran, but straight into his arms. She wiped the blood from his face and said, “You scared me! I thought you were hurt!”

The young man blinked, patted her head, then poked her cheek. “Are you stupid?”

I woke up in my arch-rival’s bed.

His clothes were in disarray, his body was covered in red marks, and his eyes were clouded with the lingering haze of intimacy.

Shocked and enraged, I pointed at him and yelled, “Traitorous Chancellor, how dare you defile me-”

“This Chancellor has fulfilled every custom from the three letters to the six rites. Why would I not dare?” he countered calmly.

“Nonsense!” My eyes widened. “When did I ever marry you?”

“Not long ago,” he said, his long eyes narrowing as he looked at me, “while you were suffering from amnesia.”

After my elder sister passed away, I entered the palace and became the new empress.

The emperor asked me to choose one of the princes to raise as my own.

The moment my fingers brushed against the two princes, I saw two chaotic glimpses of the future.

If I chose the Third Prince, he would one day ascend the throne, slaughter my entire family, and stab me to death.

If I chose the Ninth Prince, then after he became emperor, he would have me fake my death and confine me within the palace, turning me into a reviled temptress spat on by all.

I fell silent for a moment, then raised my hand and pointed at the little princess peeking in from behind the doorframe.

“Your Majesty, I believe I share a greater affinity with the Thirteenth Princess.”

My cousin’s parents passed away, so my Imperial Mother brought her into the palace to live with us.

From then on, she enjoyed the favor of my parents, the protection of my elder brother, and the devotion of my younger brother.

Even my fiancé praised her for being exceptionally gifted and refined.

There was only one exception. His heart and eyes were filled only with me, never swayed by any outsider.

I married beneath my station to become his wife, and for a time, we lived a life of joy and freedom.

But later, he died-stabbed countless times before being hurled off a cliff.

My husband brought home a child.

I raised him as my own, teaching him poetry, books, and proper etiquette.

I molded him into a noble young gentleman skilled in both letters and arms.

Years later, when he had risen to the highest ranks of court, he locked me away in a dark dungeon.

With both hands, he crushed my jaw. “My birth mother was Shuang’er, the woman you murdered.”

“A venomous woman like you thinks she deserves to be my mother?”

My husband stood by and watched, his palms pressed together in prayer.

“Shuang’er, may your spirit finally rest in peace.”

After being tortured to death, I was reborn.

Faced with the child my husband had brought home, I still smiled and said, “Of course. From now on, he will be my own son.”

I was in the middle of feeding the pigs in my village when I suddenly saw a Danmaku.

[Is this bystander the villain’s younger sister?]

[She still thinks she’s an orphan. She has no idea that the villainous Chancellor is actually the brother she got separated from back then.]

[It’s a pity the villain lost to the male lead. He’s about to hang himself.]

[The villain only became an official to find his sister in the first place. If they could just meet once, maybe he wouldn’t have to die.]

What?!

I immediately sold my pigs to scrape together some travel money and rushed to the Capital overnight.

I knocked on the gates of the Prime Minister’s Mansion.

A pale man draped in a heavy cloak stood at the entrance, his gaze deep and haunting.

I lunged forward and threw my arms around his legs, wailing, “Brother! Wang Ergou from the village is trying to force me to marry him!”

When he called out his first love’s name in the heat of passion, I knew that woman had to die.

The General and I were wed by imperial decree, our families perfectly matched in status. In a marriage like this, I never expected much in the way of affection.

Yet, he brought back a woman from his past-his “white moonlight.” She was pregnant, and he even intended to raise her status to that of an Equal Wife.

He does not understand me. Though I am a virtuous and kind wife, I will never allow another woman to claim a share of my husband.

At Yuchi Wei’s wedding, I once fired an arrow that pierced through the bride’s red veil, killing her on the spot.

I did it because that woman was a spy.

In the aftermath, Yuchi Wei was moved to tears of gratitude. He promoted me to be his personal lieutenant.

Because of that proximity, he eventually discovered my secret-that I was a woman disguised as a man.

Five years later, on our wedding night, he walked into the room carrying a funerary urn he had cherished for years.

“I want you to experience the same thing I did back then,” he said. “To taste the bitterest pain at the moment of your greatest joy.”

Only then did I realize he had deeply loved that spy all along, and his heart had never changed.

He gouged out my eyes and crippled my hands so that I could never fire an arrow again.

Amidst a world of bloody light, I set the house ablaze, dragging him down to death with me.

When I opened my eyes again, I had returned to the day of Yuchi Wei’s wedding.

“General, do you think the woman who just stepped out of the bridal sedan could be that spy?” my subordinate whispered.

I stopped him, my expression indifferent.

“We are only here today to offer our congratulations. We will not discuss official business.”

I paint faces for the dead and open The Door for the living.

After the Prime Minister’s Daughter met a sudden, violent end, I painted the last thing she ever saw.

Three months later, that very face smiled at me from a crowded street.

Later, when the Grand Princess lay within her coffin, she reached out and gripped my brush. “Don’t paint me,” she whispered. “Paint yourself.”

At the Dong Manor’s night banquet, the beautiful Singing Girl transformed into a Pink Skeleton.

The next day, I entered the manor to interrogate, but everyone gave the same answer: they saw nothing.

What was even more outrageous-

The coroner’s examination revealed that the skeleton was a man!