Historical

My younger sister stole the man I was supposed to marry, and the empress’s public reprimand seemed to destroy what remained of my future.

Then my sworn rival arrived to laugh at me—and I heard the thoughts behind his smug smile.

She could have spared herself all this trouble by marrying me.

So I asked him, in front of everyone, if he would.

The next instant, his face turned scarlet.

The emperor died too soon, and I became Empress Dowager at a young age.

To secure my son’s throne, I had no choice but to yield to the Prince Regent and become his illicit lover.

Later, when my son came of age, he finally reclaimed imperial power.

I sent the Prince Regent to the underworld with a cup of poisoned wine.

But I never imagined the Prince Regent had poisoned me as well.

As I coughed up blood in agony, he held me tightly in his arms and laughed madly in my ear: “If we die, we die together. Once we’re dead, we can be reborn together.”

Our blood mingled, and neither of us met a good end.

Before I died, through the haze, I thought: I had been such a pathetic Empress Dowager.

I had never lived a single good day.

If I truly could be reborn, I would stay far, far away from those two: the short-lived ghost and the madman.

But I did not get to be reborn into another life. Instead, I was reborn at the palace banquet where marriages were decreed.

The Crown Prince was about to hand the one and only Phoenix-patterned Jade Pendant to the woman he loved.

His gaze lingered on my face for an instant, as if he had made up his mind to give the pendant to me.

The next moment, I lowered my head and shifted slightly aside, letting him see Song Xiuying behind me clearly.

She was the one who had shared life and death with him in my previous life.

My mother was a farm girl who couldn’t read a single character, yet she still supported my father all the way until he passed the provincial examination.

On the day my father married the Prime Minister’s legitimate daughter, my mother obediently became his equal wife.

My father thought my mother loved him, which made her easy to control.

My father’s principal wife thought my mother, born and raised in the countryside, could never be a match for her.

And so, beneath their contempt, my mother played the fool while hiding her claws, raising me into someone whose worth was beyond measure.

I was the lowly maidservant Xiao Yu found too filthy to even spare a glance.

But on the day he realized I had feelings for Xie Lin’an, Xiao Yu abandoned his heavily pregnant favored consort.

He seized me by the throat, his voice cold enough to chill the bone.

“Mutual affection, is it? You think you and Xie Lin’an can run off and live happily together? Keep dreaming!”

My sister was a goldsmith who entered the palace to deliver jewelry, only to be knocked unconscious by Consort Yi.

Consort Yi had quarreled with the emperor, so she stole my sister’s clothes and exit token and slipped out of the palace for fun.

Furious and frantic, the emperor cut my innocent sister down with a single stroke, then rode out to find the woman he loved.

In the end, my sister’s body was thrown into a mass grave.

The emperor and Consort Yi returned sweetly together on the same horse, and their reunion became a celebrated romance.

Half a year later, I became one of the emperor’s beauties.

After all, I am not human—I am a marten.

If a fox spirit can bewitch a ruler, so can a marten.

After Yun Xiu survives a staged drowning, she claims she has returned from a disastrous first life.

Armed with memories of the future, she steals her concubine-born sister Yun Xia’s fiancé, certain that Wen Changfeng is destined to become prime minister.

Yun Xia yields without protest—but only because she has spent years building a fortune and plotting revenge for the mother Yun Xiu left to drown.

While Yun Xiu chases status and love for a second time, Yun Xia quietly guides every ambition toward ruin.

Some sins cannot be atoned for in a single lifetime.

Shen Chang’an is reborn on the day her elder sister again tries to force the family into a disastrous royal marriage.

In their first life, that choice delivered the throne to a ruthless prince and condemned more than three hundred members of the Shen clan to grotesque deaths.

But Chang’an soon discovers that her sister remembers the past as well—and has merely chosen a different prince to cling to.

Refusing to entrust her fate to any man, Chang’an retreats to Jiangnan, studies statecraft and military strategy, cultivates a divine reputation, and turns the imperial succession into her own chessboard.

Crown Prince Lu Zhao wants to possess her; Third Prince Lu Heng thinks he can use her to seize the throne.

Both are wrong.

Armed with foreknowledge, family power, and an unshakable will, Chang’an sets out not only to avenge the dead, but to claim the realm for herself.

At the funeral of my father’s lawful wife, he brought home an illegitimate daughter.

The hall was draped in mourning white.

She alone wore pink and red.

My eldest sister’s murderous glare sent her cowering behind Father, her eyes brimming with helpless tears.

He took her hand and said fondly, “Don’t be afraid.

This is your eldest sister.

This will be your home from now on.

In a little while, I’ll bring your mother here too.”

Watching from the side, I laughed to myself.

Where did those two get the nerve?

My eldest sister had already lived this life once!

I had been married to Shen Shi’an for eight years, but he still cherished the woman he had never forgotten.

He had grown tired of me, sick of me, finding me dull and vulgar.

When I cooked porridge or simmered soup, I was a woman with no ambition, forever fussing over a stove.

When his beloved washed her hands and made a bowl of soup, she was gentle, considerate, and understanding.

Later, after I had written our divorce agreement, Shen Shi’an traveled all the way to Jiangling to ask me for a bowl of jujube porridge.

I smiled and told him, “We don’t grow jujubes in Jiangling.

I haven’t made it in years.

I’ve quite forgotten how.”

I have slaughtered pigs in the palace for four years; wherever my axe struck, none survived.

With every pig I killed, I recited “Amitabha.”

My skilled butchering caught the attention of the Prince, who took me as his trusted aide.

I became the deadly butcher’s knife; he became the executioner who wielded it.

Killing and beheading – “Amitabha”; burying them on the spot – “well done, well done.”