Historical
The Ring
I was the adopted daughter of the most beautiful widow in Jiangcheng.
When I was twelve, the Yellow River burst its banks and Jiangcheng was swallowed by the flood.
As we fled, the beautiful widow fell gravely ill.
Before she died, she clutched my hand and, after a long hesitation, told me to go to the capital and find her lover once she was gone.
I followed the refugees for half a month.
At last, in Prince Hongyang’s Manor, I met Prince Hongyang-a man who looked half like me.
The Runaway Prince at My Door
I became a simpleton while saving my childhood friend.
He promised to repay me by finding me a good husband.
“Tonight, a man will collapse at your doorstep,” he told me. “That is the husband I have chosen for you.”
I followed his instructions to the letter.
Half a year later, my childhood friend returned from the borderlands.
I excitedly introduced my husband to him:
“This is the husband you picked for me back then. He’s a wonderful man, and he even said he wants to make me his Crown Princess.”
He froze in his tracks, his face turning deathly pale.
“It was supposed to be a beggar… How could it be the… Crown Prince?!”
The Scheming Beauty: Bad Seed
I was never born to be harmless.
At three, I stabbed the young master next door in the eye with a hairpin, simply because he had peeped at my mother while she was bathing.
At five, I set fire to a theater, merely because I saw the troupe buying and selling children.
At ten, I secretly brought people with me and crippled the censor’s grandson.
Who told him to harass my elder sister in the street?
There were countless incidents like these… Later, I married a good man.
Everyone in his family was kind and decent, and I nearly died of boredom in the inner household.
When I was reborn on the day the Emperor granted marriages to my elder sister and me, I decisively swapped marriages with her.
In my previous life, less than two years after my sister married into the Duke’s Mansion, she passed away like a withered flower.
My sister had been reborn too.
With tears in her eyes, she said, “Second Sister, the Duke’s Mansion is a death trap! You can’t marry into it!” I was thrilled. “But… Sister, I was born a bad seed.”
The Scholar’s Wife
The year I turned eighteen, my mother took five taels of silver and married me off to Ji Songzhu, a man infamous far and wide for bringing death to his wives.
Before me, both of his previous wives had died of sudden illness three days before the wedding.
The Second Chance
When the matchmaker came to propose the marriage, she said Cen Dalang (Eldest Master Cen) of the Cen family had talent, while Erlang (Second Master) had looks.
“A perfect match for your two young ladies.”
“The eldest son for the eldest daughter, the second son for the second daughter.”
“With their older brother and sister looking after them, how could the younger ones ever have a bad life?”
In my last life, things were indeed just as the matchmaker had said.
I married Dalang, and my younger sister married Erlang (Second Master).
Dalang and I spent years cleaning up mess after mess for our younger siblings.
Until Dalang died saving Erlang (Second Master).
I thought he would resent them.
But instead, he looked at my plain, unremarkable face, tears in his eyes, and sighed bitterly.
“This life was far too worthless.”
“Was I not even worthy of having a beautiful wife?”
He passed away with that regret.
It struck me like a bolt from the blue.
So all those messes he had cleaned up-he had done it willingly.
Not only for his younger brother, but for my younger sister as well.
Now, reborn into this life,
as I listened to the matchmaker say those same words,
I merely replied calmly,
“Let’s forget it. Dalang has no looks, and Erlang (Second Master) has no talent. Neither of them is a good match.”
The Second Male Lead Refuses Deep Affection
I transmigrated into the mistress of the Marquis’s Mansion, and my stepson was the devoted second male lead.
When he grew up, he would try to take the female lead by force and spend fortunes on her without blinking.
As for the male lead, he would sow discord, frame him, and set him up at every turn.
In the end, the male and female leads would join forces to defeat him.
He would flee into monastic life and never marry.
And the Marquis’s Mansion, implicated because of him, would be raided, stripped of its title, and tragically exiled.
After transmigrating, I looked at the tiny little thing in front of me, pretending to be obedient.
He wanted to grow gloomy and brooding? Absolutely not.
He was going to become sunny if it killed me. He wanted to squander money?
Absolutely not. I had to raise him into a stingy, family-minded model of virtue.
I was definitely going to protect the vast fortune of the Marquis’s Mansion.
Later, everyone said I threw money around like dirt and lived in arrogant, extravagant luxury.
My stepson refuted them.
“Nonsense. My mother is the most frugal, capable, virtuous, and dignified woman there is. She sponsored so many scholars with money she saved up herself. Could you do that?”
Someone said my methods were ruthless and that I acted like a man.
My stepson’s face turned cold.
“My mother is gentle, virtuous, and the very soul of benevolence. She clearly could have just robbed you outright, yet she still gave you a chance to compete fairly. You’re the one who was useless. Utter trash.”
Even his father couldn’t stand it anymore.
“Son, open your eyes and take a good look. Your mother is not the kind of person who lets herself be wronged.”
My stepson flew into a rage.
“Father, don’t force me to turn against you. You can say whatever you want about me, but you absolutely cannot say that about my mother.”
The Silk Tassel
I once saved a pregnant noblewoman. She smiled and told me that once the child was born, they would recognize me as their godmother.
But later, as I led my troops to station at the border, we gradually lost touch.
Until one day, eight years later, my subordinates reported that someone had come all the way from Jinling, specifically asking to see me by name.
“Who is it?” I asked as I walked toward the entrance.
There, I saw a young girl sitting atop a pony, threatening the group of soldiers surrounding her.
“Song Yunying is my mother! If you dare bully me, you’re all finished!”
I am Song Yunying.
The Sprouting Chronicles
Zhao Qingzhu and I were betrothed through an exchange marriage.
The agreement was that his older sister would marry my older brother, and I would marry him.
He was a scholar, which meant his education was a money pit.
My family had to tighten our belts to provide for him, and the entire village laughed at us for being fools.
But five years later, he passed the imperial examinations with top honors and became the most sought-after bachelor around.
Suddenly, everyone was saying I was no longer worthy of him.
The Stench of Copper
My father was the richest man in Great Zhou, and I was his only daughter.
To protect me, he arranged for me to marry into Marquis Manor with an enormous dowry.
On the day of my engagement, I had a dream.
I dreamed that Marquis Manor looked down on me for being born to a merchant family, while the Young Marquis doted wholeheartedly on his talented cousin.
After my father died, my dowry was swallowed up completely.
To make his cousin his legitimate wife, the Young Marquis bribed the midwife to murder me while I was in childbirth.
When I woke from the dream, the Young Marquis walked into my family’s jewelry shop with his cousin in tow.
“Since you’re going to marry into Marquis Manor, you ought to shed that stink of money. Marquis Manor can’t afford that kind of embarrassment.
“Give this shop to my cousin. Consider it a greeting gift from you, her future sister-in-law.”
I looked at his smug, superior face and let out a cold laugh.
Then I turned and ordered the steward to throw him out.
“What kind of down-and-out household starts eyeing a wife’s dowry before she’s even married in?
“Your highborn Marquis Manor has worse manners than a farming family!”
The Substitute Empress
On the day I was deposed and consigned to the Cold Palace, Yan Yuheng came personally to see me off.
Before the palace gates were locked, he asked whether I hated him.
I touched the old gold hairpin hidden in my sleeve and smiled. For three years as Empress, I learned to speak like her, to carry myself like her, and to love him the way she once had.
But even as I was dying, he never understood: I was never like Shen Zhaotang. I had only acted too well.