Josei

When I was forced to propose to Pei Zhan, I saw his group chat:

[If she dares bring up marriage, I’ll dump her on the spot.]

I blinked, and my heart suddenly soared.

Every one of Pei Zhan’s ex-girlfriends had received a hefty breakup settlement.

I had waited three years.

Finally, it was my turn.

After I was brought back to the household as its true-born daughter, my parents were full of guilt, and my brother doted on me.

Even the girl who had taken my place was truly kind and virtuous.

Tears on her lovely face, she knelt and bowed her head to me.

“I took your place and left you to suffer all those years.”

I smiled and said it was all right.

Then, before long, I ended up in the pond with her impeccably virtuous fiancé.

My youngest aunt was the most notorious woman in our entire family.

Grandma and Grandpa had worked hard to raise her, put her through school, and even arranged a marriage for her.

Yet she had cut them off and run away from home.

Mom was always telling me, “When you grow up, you must be good to your parents.

Don’t ever turn out like your aunt.”

Back then, nobody could have imagined that I would grow up to be even more ruthless than she was.

Everyone in Shengjing knows that Young Marquis Shen despises his wife, Meng Suichao.

He spends his days in brothels while she tends to him with unfailing devotion—until a scar destroys the one resemblance that kept her at his side.

When Suichao finally asks for a divorce, an old love believed dead returns through the snow, forcing every buried truth into the light.

I was the CEO’s white moonlight, but I had gone dark.

“So you can fly overseas for business, but you can’t come overseas to see me? Is it that you can’t afford a ticket, or that you can’t make the time?”

“You keep saying I’m your white moonlight, then turn around and find a substitute. If your feelings are that cheap, don’t ever tell anyone you liked me.”

“I don’t want a man who’s been tainted. Don’t come looking for me again.”

At the age when palace maids are meant to leave, Ah Li asks the imperial guard she loves to marry her—only to discover that he is the emperor, and that she is merely a substitute for his cherished Consort Rong.

After he keeps her trapped in the palace and sacrifices her to protect his favorite, Ah Li quietly accepts a marriage arranged as an act of spite.

Her new husband, General Wei Yuan, can see the floating comments that have distorted everyone’s story, and he offers her something the emperor never did: honesty and protection.

When the emperor tries to steal her back, Wei Yuan defies the throne, forcing every supposed lead in this romance to face the truth.

The first wife said that a concubine’s daughter ought to become a concubine herself.

She used my mother’s life to force my obedience.

A little sedan carried me into the prince’s household, where I was to help my elder sister secure his favor.

I schemed and plotted, watching every step, until my hands were steeped in blood.

My sister, meanwhile, remained pure and unsullied, radiant as the moon.

In that life, I harmed far too many people.

And others harmed me in return.

On the day I died, Mother told me she was not my birth mother.

The first wife had poisoned my real mother the very day she gave birth to me.

The woman who raised me was merely a pawn the first wife used to keep me in her power.

Given a second life, I turned my schemes upon my sister instead.

Have you ever seen the moon fall into the mud?

It must be a lovely sight.

On a family reality show, superstar Lu Ling was the pampered heiress from Jiangsu, Zhejiang, and Shanghai, and award-winning actress Shen Fan was the Northeast’s eldest daughter.

Unremarkable me?

I was there to make them look good.

My family wasn’t helping.

In the trailer, their elders showered them with money or love.

My grandma kept telling me to quit showbiz.

“Girls should stay home.

They shouldn’t work.”

The internet tore into her.

[Another old relic.]

Then the full episode aired.

What Grandma had actually said was: “Why not just spend my pension?”

“By the time I’m gone, your dad should be retired.

You can spend his next.”

“I’ve been paying your social insurance at the highest contribution level.”

“By the time your parents are both gone, you’ll be collecting your own pension.”

The internet changed its tune instantly.

[People like this terrify me.]

[Don’t they say whatever you fear comes your way?]

I booked an appointment with a specialist for pain during sex, only to discover that the intern sitting behind the kindly old doctor was my longtime crush.

The professor turned around to quiz him.

“He, what usually causes pain during intercourse?”

He Shiyu looked past his silver-haired mentor and stared straight at me.

After a long silence, he answered in a voice cold enough to splinter ice, each word striking like a blow.

“Rough movements.”

“A lack of restraint.”

“Excessive frequency.”

“Mechanical injury.”

The professor nodded in satisfaction and continued, “And what information should we ask this patient for now?”

He Shiyu thought for a moment. When he spoke again, his voice slipped out of control, trembling with accusation.

“Meng Yin, these past two months… who exactly have you been with?”

The day I decided not to get married, Chen Shuo was at the market buying a bass.

He sent me a photo and asked, “This one’s nine hundred grams.

Too big?

Mum said you liked it steamed.”

I stared at the fish lying in its plastic basket for ten or fifteen seconds, then replied, “Chen Shuo, let’s not register our marriage next week.”

He probably thought I was stressed about the wedding again.

After a while, he replied, “Sure.

We can push it back.

You’ve been busy with your project lately anyway, haven’t you?”

I said, “I don’t mean push it back.”

There was nothing from him for two minutes.

“What do you mean?”

I put my phone facedown on my desk and didn’t answer.

At 4:27 that afternoon, I was sitting in a windowless meeting room with a final account for a construction project worth forty-seven million yuan spread out before me.

The printer kept spitting out paper next door.

The air vent hummed overhead.

My supervisor, Wei, was arguing with the contractor’s people over a hundred and seventy thousand yuan in additional works claims.

Everything was ordinary.

So ordinary it hardly seemed like the afternoon a woman had decided to cancel her wedding.

No one had been caught cheating.

There had been no slap, no other woman, no sudden revelation of anyone’s true colours.

Chen Shuo hadn’t betrayed me.

He was, by most standards, a decent man.

He didn’t smoke, didn’t throw money around, wasn’t violent, and had no interest in going out for what men called “a night with the boys.”

If you drew up a job specification for a suitable husband, he’d score eighty-five out of a hundred.

So everyone asked me, “Then why on earth won’t you marry him?”

That turned out to be the hardest question to answer.

Because when an adult truly wants to leave a relationship, there often isn’t one devastating piece of evidence against the other person.

Just one small bill after another.

And suddenly you realise that, for seven years, every one of those bills has had your name on it.