Josei

The day Father strangled Mama to death, a fox spirit took over her body.

I caught her just as she was digging out Father’s heart.

She fumbled around trying to hide it, then deliberately let her fox muzzle show.

“I killed him, not your mother. Your mother was a good woman.”

“Oh,” I said, bringing over a clay pot.

“Wouldn’t that heart taste better stewed?”

The day my childhood sweetheart and I had our worst fight,

he slapped me for the sake of the young woman he loved.

And I, in a fit of rage, broke three of his ribs.

He screamed that he wanted a divorce, but I refused.

I thought we would keep dragging each other down like this until the day we died.

But reality proved me wrong far too quickly.

Three months later, I fell head over heels for a sweet, innocent younger guy.

He kept chasing me for an official title.

So I had no choice but to pull that familiar number out of my blacklist.

When the call connected, the young woman’s playful voice came from the other end.

“Su Yi, you’re too late. Even if you crawl over like a dog and beg for forgiveness now, Ah Xu won’t spare you a second glance.”

Faced with her provocation, I only said calmly, “Tell Zhou Xu I want a divorce.”

The next second, the phone on the other end seemed to be snatched away. A burst of rustling static followed before Zhou Xu’s voice finally came through, trembling despite his best efforts to restrain it.

He said, “Su Yi, don’t you dare.”

Ruan Yueying was born into the Ruan Clan of Chenliu. By all rights, she should have become the Crown Princess, but because Crown Prince Gu Ming insisted on marrying Qin Yunnong, she was made a Side Consort instead. In the Eastern Palace, she formed a brief yet precious bond with Qin Yunnong and Hu Mianmian. But after a wedding night spun out of control, and amid the pull of power, desire, and love, she was forced into the schemes of the deep palace. Hu Mianmian withered away for love. Qin Yunnong, desperate to protect her own love, grew more ruthless with every step. And through loss and revenge, Ruan Yueying rose to the position of empress. Years later, she possessed honor, children, and power, yet remained forever trapped in the waxing and waning of that moon-until, on her deathbed, she finally spoke to the emperor of the clearest hatred and deepest regret of her life.

Lu Jia wakes inside a novel as a beautiful orphan doomed to die after drugging her adoptive brother, Lu Fang.

Desperate to survive both the gentle Lu Fang and his ruthless alternate personality, she accepts an arranged marriage and escapes to quiet Spring Mountain Temple.

There she meets Ye Yi, a tenderhearted traveler who promises her a life beyond the Lu family’s walls.

As Lu Fang’s forbidden feelings surface, Lu Jia clings to the freedom and future she has chosen, while her brother must decide whether love means possession or letting her go.

In the third year of Jiang Yan’s affair, I met a fresh-faced college boy.

He wore a white T-shirt and faded jeans.

His brows held a rebellious slant, his thin lips were pressed together, and his fringe fell a little too long over his eyes.

He bore more than a passing resemblance to Jiang Yan when he was young.

My car had broken down halfway to my destination.

He haggled me up to five hundred yuan and promised he could fix it.

Halfway through the repair, he took a call.

It seemed to be the hospital chasing him for payment.

He held the phone in silence for a long time before pleading in a low voice, “I’m doing everything I can to raise the money.”

“I promise I’ll have it all by the day of the surgery.”

“Please.”

“Just give me a little more time, okay?”

Standing beside him, I suddenly remembered the day I first learned Jiang Yan had been unfaithful.

He had sat slumped on the sofa with his face in his hands.

“Xiuxiu, I swear I never meant for this to happen,” he rasped.

“But she looks so much like you did when you were young.”

“Do you understand?”

“Whenever I look at her, I remember how much you suffered back then—and how powerless I was to help you.”

“I have the means now.”

“I want to help her.”

“I want to give the younger you the care I couldn’t give you the first time.”

“Please don’t blame me.”

At that moment, I suddenly stopped blaming Jiang Yan.

Because at last, I understood him.

My celebrated fiancé casts me aside for the brilliant female thief who became his partner in solving the capital’s most sensational cases.

Branded a discarded woman, I am forced by imperial decree to marry Li Fu, an unlettered general whose rough manners could not be further from the refined husband I once imagined.

Yet beneath his beard and battle scars lies a loyalty steadier than any storybook romance, while I discover that managing a difficult household may demand more courage than grieving a broken engagement.

When the applause fades and ordinary life begins, both Gu Huaichuan and I learn which kind of love can truly survive beyond the stage.

My husband is very rich, but I don’t love him.

In university, he once used every trick in the book to pursue my roommate Jiang Sizhu. He sent luxury gifts one after another, and even made a grand gesture by sending nine thousand roses downstairs from the girls’ dormitory. All the girls in our dorm benefited; we carried armloads of roses back to our rooms, as if we were moving a flower bed. Only Jiang Sizhu remained indifferent. She even warned Pei Lu not to come looking for her again.

“He’s very rich and not bad-looking. You really don’t want him?”

I had a face mask on and finally asked the question I could never understand.

With such a beautiful face, she spent every day hanging around that senior who worked odd jobs everywhere.

“No way, a stuffy old bore like him? If you’re so interested, go after him yourself,” Jiang Sizhu said with disdain.

I rested my chin on my hand, thought for a moment, then nodded.

“Fine.”

“I’ll go after him.”

My father’s favored concubine trained my younger sister in all the arts of the pleasure quarters, convinced it would help her secure a man’s heart.

When I came of age, she proposed that Yuniang marry alongside me as an accompanying concubine.

There was only one flaw in her plan.

As the Qiao family’s legitimate eldest daughter and future head, I was never marrying out—I would take a husband into my own household.

I am the vicious supporting character in a novel.

Yet I have been forced to watch one transmigrator after another take over my body, throw away all dignity, and grovel before a little beast already rotten to the core, all because they dreamed of saving him.

They called it redeeming the villain—showing him the warmth and beauty of the world.

Without exception, every one of them was betrayed once the little beast rose to power, and every one died without an intact corpse.

Now the cycle has begun again.

I expected another laughable attempt at redemption, but this time, before the villain could grow into his power, the new transmigrator drove a blade straight through his heart.

Blood flecked her face, making her smile look dark and uncanny.

“I’d already made a mortal enemy of him, so why not kill him and end the threat for good?”

“This redemption game is painfully dull.”

When the marquis’s household finally brought me home, I was already twenty years old—old enough that women my age had children, while I remained unwed.

Only after entering the estate did I learn that I had been promised in marriage before I was born, but the false heiress raised in my place had already married my betrothed.

She and the ducal heir were deeply in love, with both a son and a daughter, and theirs was celebrated throughout the capital as a perfect match.

When she faced me, guilt overwhelmed her so completely that she could not speak through her tears.

Mother held her close and comforted her, while the ducal heir vowed that she would be the only woman in his life.

I stood straight and composed, pretending none of it mattered.

Hidden inside my sleeve, however, my fingers clutched my skirt so tightly that they ached to the bone.

That night, Mother took my hand and sighed, urging me to accept that everything was already settled and let it go.

She promised to find me a better marriage and said she had already considered several fine young gentlemen.

I stared at the osmanthus tree perfuming the courtyard and found myself thinking instead of the pigs back home, with no one left to tend them.

“Mother,” I said, “I don’t want a marriage. Please let me go home.”