Mature

I was an emperor.

Now I have become another emperor.

But this one has made a miserable job of it.

The crown princess is sleeping with the imperial tutor in the Eastern Palace.

My daughter is imprisoned and humiliated in her own residence by her husband.

Even my favorite niece has been judged by the country-bred heir to the Marquis of Xuanyang: “Fit only for a concubine, never a wife.”

Well.

You are all remarkably brave.

How about we find out how sharp my executioner’s blade is?

In my third year trapped inside a novel, the emperor learned to watch livestreams—and struck up an online flirtation with a thirst-trap streamer.

He even promised her: “Come over to this world, and you can be my empress!”

“Remember, bring your body.

No possessing someone else’s.”

I took one look at her username, “Will Fly Anywhere in the Country,” and spent the night packing my escape bag.

People from the modern world were crawling with viruses.

One sneeze could wipe out the whole palace.

And this woman was a prostitute!

The princess had set a trap for me.

I had been drugged.

The man on the bed had a face as flawless as jade, his eyes clouded by the drug.

I recognized him as one of her favorite male companions.

Clearly, she was determined to ruin me.

But what did she know?

I had worked on a pleasure boat and slept with countless men.

This was hardly enough to frighten me.

I leaned close and murmured in his ear, “The princess has never treated you as a person.

Don’t you want revenge?”

The man’s eyes turned abruptly cold.

In my last life, I sold myself and sacrificed my dignity to keep my mother and younger sister alive.

Once my sister grew up, she despised me for it.

“If you hadn’t been involved with Master Su, how could such a wonderful marriage have fallen through?

Young Master Su liked me so much.

He was going to marry me.”

She had forgotten that Master Su was my first patron.

That night, I had swallowed my shame and gone to him only to pay for a doctor when she was burning with fever.

I, too, had a childhood sweetheart who had promised to marry me.

Later, Mother helped my sister poison me.

I died in agony in our own home.

Their tears fell on my face.

“The rest of us have to live.

We had no choice.”

When I was given another life, I woke on the very day of my sister’s fever.

The day they took my mother away, I clung to her and wouldn’t let go.

My little brother blocked the car too, demanding fifty thousand yuan.

That was about the going rate for a wife in our village.

But she was my mother.

You couldn’t sell your mother.

No dutiful daughter would do that.

Sure enough, someone in the car shoved me aside and roared, “To hell with your dad!

We can’t stay here!”

Then they drove off.

I’d never been to school.

I didn’t understand things.

But one sentence stuck in my head: “He can’t stay here.”

My cousin got drunk and raped my little sister.

“I’ll take her as a concubine, then,” he said, as though it hardly mattered.

Grandmother said, “With that ugly face of hers, my precious grandson is the one being wronged.”

Mother murmured, “Amitabha.

Perhaps this is a blessing in disguise.”

I took a willow switch and whipped my cousin without mercy.

Then I told them all, “Under the laws of this dynasty, the punishment for raping a girl under twelve is death.”

I was a virtuous woman, particularly skilled at repaying malice with kindness.

After years of marriage, I had little to complain of.

Except for one thing.

Whenever my husband and I retired a little early, my mother-in-law would bring her maids and serving women to pound on our courtyard gate.

Sometimes it was, “My boy, it’s cold tonight.

Be careful you don’t catch a chill in bed.”

Other times, “Son, you ate rather well at supper.

Your food hasn’t settled yet.

Don’t let it sit in your stomach and make you ill.”

After a while, I understood.

We were both women.

It wouldn’t do for me to be the only one getting her fill.

The thought was keeping Mother awake, tossing and turning all night.

So while my husband was away on business, I took three husbands for her in one go.

I was an old concubine.

After the old master died, I stayed on at the estate to enjoy a comfortable retirement.

The new mistress was a hopeless weakling.

Her husband’s mistress walked all over her, driving the couple apart and throwing the household into turmoil.

I could bear it no longer.

I decided to give her a hand.

Through tearful eyes, she looked at me doubtfully.

“That woman is terribly cunning, and my husband always takes her side.

What could you possibly…” I gave a smug little smile.

“Don’t underestimate me.

The old master once had a houseful of wives and concubines.

Now I’m the only one left.

Do you know why?”

The Young General, who avoids women, took a concubine.

The Crown Prince asked me, “Why does she look so much like my beloved consort?”

I smiled coquettishly, “I just have a common face.”

I found a bottle of women’s lubricant in my husband’s bag.

I didn’t argue or make a scene.

I quietly replaced it with a bottle of 502 super glue.

At 2 a.m., the new postpartum nanny was taken to the emergency room.