Josei

Ever since my husband brought his mistress home as an honored concubine, I had been living like a goddess.

Getting up at the fourth watch every morning to prepare him for court?

The concubine’s job.

His clothes, his meals, his daily needs.

Taking care of him when he was drunk or ill.

The weighty business of attending to his parents—all hers.

So were the marital bed and bearing children.

When I asked her, yet again, to make shoes and socks and do the other needlework, I told her, “You’re an honored concubine, practically half a mistress of the house.

These are a mistress’s duties.

If you won’t do them, who will?”

She looked at me, dressed to the nines and ready to go out.

Seething with resentment.

Then her child was registered as mine.

And she became more respectful and obedient by the day.

I was perfectly happy with the arrangement.

My husband, however, began to grow restless.

Seven years after he forced me into marriage, my domineering CEO husband fell in love with someone else.

I wasn’t worried.

His sister, on the other hand, was so anxious she burst into tears.

“If you get divorced, what are Song Yu and I supposed to do?”

Song Yu.

The name sounded so familiar.

He was, if I remembered correctly, the childhood sweetheart I’d been dating before I married Gu Zeyan.

My husband found my long-lost cousin in a brothel, dying of a venereal disease.

She took one look at my happy life and decided I had stolen it from her.

I was never an impostor: my mother had given me to my grieving aunt in adoption when I was five.

For nine years, I had been made to soothe a woman who resented my happiness.

Now my husband expected me to sacrifice myself for my cousin too.

I was done paying for everyone else’s guilt.

This time, I would take what they owed me—and leave with my daughter.

On the day Pei Rongqi ascended the throne, a number of people were driven out of the palace.

Some were restless young maids; others were aging servants.

I looked at the eunuch and asked a rather presumptuous question.

“Eunuch Chen, must I leave too?”

We had known each other for years, and he looked a little troubled.

“His Majesty said it makes no difference whether the others go, Aunt Feng, but you must leave.”

I nodded in understanding and packed my things.

Looking back at the palace walls through the fine snow, I suddenly remembered Rongqi at nine, clutching my sleeve with all his strength.

“Sister, you must never, ever leave Rongqi.”

The Noble Consort wants the emperor’s heart.

Qingtang, her maid, thinks authority over the harem matters far more.

When her mistress’s reckless devotion threatens her own future, Qingtang decides that if a fool can become Noble Consort, there is no reason she should spend her life as a servant.

I was born with a honeyed tongue.

I knew how to win people over.

As a child, I coaxed my father’s wife from despising me into loving me as her own.

After I married, I charmed my icy mother-in-law into treating me like her own daughter.

But it didn’t work on my husband.

He had a woman he loved and could not have.

In two years of marriage, he had never so much as touched a finger of mine.

Once again, at my mother-in-law’s bidding, I took a nourishing soup to his study and tried to coax him into sharing my bed.

He shoved me away in disgust and flung the soup aside.

“Wen Xiaoxiao, spare me your honeyed words and hidden knives.”

“I’d sooner die than touch you.”

Oh, well.

There really was nothing I could do.

If he wouldn’t be charmed, I would simply have to charm someone else.

A man of insatiable desire loses his manhood, but never his craving for his wife.

Jiang Youze, the legitimate son of the Jiang household, was as graceful as an orchid, as splendid as a jade tree.

He placed first in the imperial examinations at sixteen. Accomplished in both letters and arms, he had outshone his peers since childhood.

Si Yan, the only daughter at the minister’s residence, was treasured beyond measure, the moon around which every star revolved.

She and Jiang Youze had grown up together, their affection mutual.

Cool and difficult to approach, he reserved all his closeness and tenderness for her.

Everyone called their betrothal a perfect match between families of equal standing, a marriage made in heaven.

Then, the year after Jiang Youze’s triumph in the examinations, everything changed.

The Jiang clan was condemned on a fabricated charge of treason. The entire household was executed, its blood staining the long street.

Jiang Youze alone was spared, sentenced to castration and service as a palace eunuch.

The once-celebrated son of the Jiang family became, in an instant, a ruined man whom everyone shunned.

On the day he was imprisoned, Jiang Youze paid some unknown price to have a letter written in blood delivered from his cell to Si Yan.

Every line was written with her future in mind. He plainly offered to release her from their betrothal, yet every word bled with anguish.

Si Yan, however, found only the repeated endearment “Qingqing” an intolerable eyesore.

After reading the bloodstained letter, she turned and tossed it into the brazier of fine charcoal.

She had intended to call off the engagement on the very day the Jiang household was executed.

But the night before, she had a dream.

She dreamed that Jiang Youze would one day wield power over court and country, and that he would imprison and humiliate her, shutting her behind the palace gates forever…

My husband brought home his “true love” and insisted on taking her as a concubine.

Tears of emotion filled my eyes as I clasped his true love’s hand and refused to let go.

“How could I possibly let you settle for being a concubine?

You can have my place as his lawful wife!

“Why don’t we make it a one-stop affair today—divorce for me, wedding for you!”

There was no time to waste.

The imperial decree ordering the confiscation of the family estate was already on its way!

Prince Xiang’s heir was every noble young lady’s dream—and the emperor’s favorite candidate for the throne.

I slipped a little something into his soup to secure my future.

Unfortunately, my sister and three other ladies had the same idea.

One bowl later, he dropped dead at the imperial banquet, and all five of us became suspects.

I swore on my father’s life that I hadn’t killed him.

The trouble was, every suspect had a secret—and I wanted far more than a handsome husband.

Years ago, I saved the crown prince from a falling beam.

It broke my leg, and I became the capital’s notorious young lady with a limp.

Later, when he ascended the throne, he sat high in the imperial hall and asked what reward I desired.

Everyone thought I loved him deeply and would surely ask to enter his palace as a consort and remain at his side.

After all, no official family in the capital would take a woman with a limp as its mistress.

What they did not expect was that I would ask for a title of my own and the revenues of a thousand households.

As they whispered among themselves, no one noticed the faint tension in his brow vanish.

“Then let it be as you wish.”