Historical

On the day of my wedding to my husband, a female warrior barged in.

She lifted my bridal veil, pinched my cheek with a grin, and praised, “What a tender little bride!” Then she drifted away as lightly as she had come.

From that day on, a black ink stain appeared on my face. No matter what I tried, I could not wash it off.

My husband despised me and never once set foot in my room again.

My mother-in-law resented me for occupying the position of mistress of the household while failing to bear any children.

Even my sister-in-law sighed over her brother’s miserable fate, saying he had married an ugly woman.

I became the invisible mistress of the Marquis’s Mansion.

I worked without complaint and managed the household affairs.

I raised the son adopted into our branch and devoted myself wholeheartedly to planning for the Marquis’s Mansion.

Only when I accidentally saw my husband and the female warrior admiring flowers together on a spring outing did I finally learn the truth.

My husband and the female warrior had fallen in love at first sight long ago.

Unwilling to be bound by the rules of the Marquis’s Mansion, the female warrior had abandoned my husband and left. Yet she could not bear to hand the man she loved over to another woman, so she used a secret drug to ruin my face.

And my husband had found the female warrior long ago. He had obtained the antidote, but under the spell of her tears and tenderness, he threw it away and promised her that his heart would never waver.

For her, he kept himself pure in the Marquis’s Mansion. Outside the estate, he lived in perfect harmony with her, and they had a son and a daughter.

Their son was given to me to raise so he could inherit the Marquis’s Mansion’s estate.

Their daughter stayed by their side to bring them joy, and in the future, they would recruit a husband to marry into the family for her.

All these years, they had lived in bliss. I was the only one who suffered.

I secretly drugged the female warrior with Soft Tendon Powder, then set the villa on fire. After notifying my husband and son to come put out the flames, I had them bound up like thieves and thrown into the burning villa as well.

Knowing I had committed a capital crime, I wrote a petition in blood and struck the Dengwen Drum, accusing the Marquis’s Mansion of favoring an outside mistress and abusing the lawful wife.

The Marquis’s Mansion was stripped of its title and demoted. I was sentenced to death.

The Empress pitied me and granted me a divorce before I died.

From then on, I was no longer a wife of the Lu family. I was only a daughter of the Li Family.

After my death, I saw the masses spit curses at the Marquis’s Mansion. I also saw them call me a venomous woman.

Right and wrong, truth and blame-let others say what they pleased. But my life had indeed been wasted.

When I opened my eyes again, I had returned to the day of my wedding.

The female warrior flew straight toward me with a cheerful grin.

I yanked my husband in front of me as fast as I could.

This time, it was my husband’s face that was stained with a large black mark.

After five years of marrying into my family, my penniless scholar husband passed the imperial exam-and suddenly decided I, his butcher wife, reeked of grease and blood.

For half a month, he hemmed and hawed and refused to do his husbandly duties.

So I used the silver I’d earned selling pork to buy him two ink sticks and a ream of fine paper, then scraped together the last of my coins for a tiny bar of scented soap.

When I made it home through the rain, the big yellow dog under the eaves had one of the meat dumplings I’d wrapped dangling from its mouth.

From inside the house came a coy, wheedling voice.

“Father, the magistrate’s daughter smells so nice. Not like Mother.”

“And these pastries taste better than meat dumplings too.”

I took all the bits and pieces I’d hidden against my chest and threw them out-along with the father and son.

When Zheng Huaishu signed the divorce papers, he held our son in his arms and glared at me with resentment.

All the neighbors in the village laughed at me for letting a future official go.

The very next day, the matchmaker introduced me to a fair, slender stutterer.

A little girl trailed behind him.

Father and daughter gave me timid looks.

I asked irritably, “How often can you do your husbandly duties?”

“And how much meat will you eat in a day?”

The stutterer’s face turned bright red. The matchmaker yanked his clothes down over half his shoulder, and he said in a slow, gentle voice, “As long as my child gets a mouthful of rice… as her father, I’ll do anything…”

Because I was beautiful, my foster father adopted me.

Because I was strong, he gave me to the Ninth Prince.

Unfortunately, the very next day, the Ninth Prince was thrown into the Imperial Prison for treason.

I asked the Ninth Prince if he wanted to break out.

The Ninth Prince looked utterly despondent. “The iron prison has layer upon layer of bars. Even with wings, there would be no escape.”

That very night, the Imperial Prison was razed to the ground. The Ninth Prince vanished without wings, disappearing from the capital.

In order to win over the Tyrant Emperor, I slipped him an entire bottle of Obedience Potion.

Relying on the potion’s effects, I became utterly fearless.

Every day, I hogged the imperial bed, demanded that he coax me to sleep, and even drove away his most beloved noble consort.

Then the System appeared.

I was straddling the Tyrant Emperor’s waist, all too eager to show off.

“See? He’s as obedient as a puppy.”

The System fell silent.

Then the System screamed.

“Ancestor, you look more like a stupid dog with a death wish to me!”

“That cheap potion of yours only lasts for one day!”

My husband is someone who transmigrated into a novel.

What a coincidence. So am I.

He said, “I’m the protagonist of a male-oriented webnovel, so what I’ve gathered isn’t a harem, but various factions.”

I said, “I’m the protagonist of a female-oriented webnovel, so all those various factions of yours love me but can never have me.”

He said I was joking.

I burst out laughing. “You caught me. I was joking. The truth is, they’ve already had me.”

On the day I died, Xiao Xu was about to make another woman his empress.

He came to the Cold Palace, hoping I would swallow my pride and yield to him. What greeted him was only my ice-cold corpse.

For reasons no one could explain, Xiao Xu broke down. He did one deranged thing after another, and every day he wept blood before my grave.

In the end, he got his wish and was reborn a thousand years later.

In the twenty-first century, Xiao Xu and I were classmates.

He was still dazzling. Still exceptional.

He was looking for me.

But he didn’t know that I had been reborn too, with all my memories intact.

I transmigrated into a tragic romance world trapped in an endless cycle and became the city spirit of the Liang Kingdom.

Again and again, the heroine, Bai Ruohuan, leapt from the city wall.

Again and again, the emperor, Liang Qingci, marched toward the ruin of his nation.

At first, I only wanted to sit back and watch the spectacle unfold, but I was forced onto the stage to change their fate.

Alongside that cold-hearted, impassive emperor, I fought to survive through countless cycles, until at last I glimpsed the truth hidden behind Heaven’s Love Calamity.

I worked as a maid at Marquis Manor for ten years. Then, simply because the young lady lost a Peach Blossom Hairpin, I was driven out of the household.

In the blink of an eye, many years passed. I had nearly let go of all the grudges and grievances between me and Marquis Manor.

But to my surprise, one night, the young lady of Marquis Manor knelt before me in utter disarray, begging me to take her in.

Her husband’s family had cast her out. In all the vast world, she had nowhere left to go.

And now, I was the only person she could turn to.

Spending the night in an abandoned temple, I found a thin gauze handkerchief wreathed in fragrance. After nightfall, someone murmured beneath the window:

“My lady, have you perchance seen the handkerchief this humble scholar left behind?”

Through the crack in the door, the figure outside looked so ethereal that it seemed he might drift away on the wind at any moment.

At his words, I couldn’t help recalling the rumors about this place.

They said this temple had been abandoned for ages, and that seductive ghosts haunted the area. Any traveler who got entangled with them would either have their essence sucked dry or be dragged into another world, vanishing without a trace.

With that in mind, I hurriedly cracked open the window and tossed out the piece of cloth I had used to wipe the floor, the windowsill, and my stinky feet.

The other party caught it with lightning-fast reflexes.

Then he stared down at the gauze scarf in his hand, now crumpled and ruined like dried pickled greens, and fell into deep contemplation.

In the year of famine, disaster fell upon our entire village.

My little brother was so hungry he no longer had the strength to cry, yet his small belly was swollen tight and shiny.

Mother held him in her arms and sat on the threshold, motionless, like a clay idol that had lost its soul.

In the pot was Guanyin clay boiled in clear water. Eating it made your stomach swell, and then you couldn’t pass it.

“Girl…” Father finally spoke. “Don’t blame your mother and me for being cruel… In the palace, in the palace there’ll at least be a mouthful of food.”

When the human trafficker came in, he brought with him a gust of dry, cold wind.

“She’s decent-looking enough, just a bit too thin and weak.

“Three pecks of millet. Not a grain more.”

I saw Father’s hand trembling violently as he pressed his handprint onto that sheet of paper.

Three pecks of golden-yellow millet were poured into the only broken grain jar in our home, making a soft rustling sound.

It was such a beautiful sound-the most beautiful sound I had ever heard.

My little brother would probably live through this winter.