Mature

Pei Xu was the Chancellor’s son.

On a wager, he disguised himself as a poor young man and set out to win me over.

Instead, he fell deeply in love with me and swore he would marry no one else.

When his sister learned of it, she had my younger brother and sister killed, then sold me to a brothel to put an end to my presumptuous dreams.

Years later, she was to marry the young marquis.

But on their wedding day, he never came to fetch his bride.

Dressed in his wedding robes, he was at a brothel, spending a fortune on me.

My youngest sister had been flirting with three men.

Unfortunately, she had used my name and our middle sister’s.

All three came to ask for her hand.

To smooth things over, our parents suggested that we each marry one of them.

My other sister wavered.

I refused.

There was nothing wrong with me.

Why should I marry a man who had loved my sister?

Didn’t I deserve a love untainted by all this?

I looked up at my youngest sister, who kept avoiding my eyes, and said evenly: “First, tell me exactly what happened between you and those three men.”

After eight years in a nunnery, I received a cup of poisoned wine from my twin sister.

Her face was full of contempt.

“You live in a nunnery, yet you bed His Majesty every night.

Have you no shame?”

“Tomorrow, His Majesty means to bring you back to the palace.

Someone as lowly as you has no business being a Noble Consort.

Let your elder sister take that place.”

Smiling, I drank the poison and watched her step over my corpse to board the phoenix palanquin bound for the palace.

What she did not know was that being summoned to his bed at any hour, in any place, was worse than death.

My first love, a man who had clawed his way out of poverty, murdered me.

Then I was reborn inside his beautiful, wealthy wife’s womb.

If nothing went wrong, once I survived the pregnancy, that bastard would lift me tenderly into his arms and say, “Look at this little darling.

Daddy’s sweetheart from a past life.”

That’s right.

I was your sweetheart.

And I’ve come to collect.

My father was an imperial censor, and nothing mattered to him more than his reputation.

He had fathered me on a prostitute.

Mother and I were the greatest stains on his life, and he would have liked nothing better than to be rid of us.

After my childhood friend and I registered our marriage, his kept woman sneered at me.

“He doesn’t love you.

This is just an arranged marriage!”

I was speechless.

“It’s a business alliance.

Could you sound any more provincial?”

In this day and age, who worried about love in a marriage like ours?

The only use I had for her sugar daddy was to give me an heir carrying both families’ blood as soon as possible.

As for the man himself, I doubted even our housekeeper, Mrs.

Wu, wanted him home.

The year I turned fifteen, I buried my foster mother and entered the imperial palace.

I became a princess.

They said the late empress had cut me from her womb before setting herself on fire.

That I looked exactly like her.

How could I not?

Fifteen years of going hungry at every meal and swallowing medicine every day had seen to that.

At least all that effort had paid off.

I had finally wormed my way into the palace!

Twenty years into Wen Lishu’s widowhood, her bedridden mother-in-law reveals a secret: her husband faked his death and eloped with her sister.

Even the children Lishu raised supposedly belong to that treacherous pair.

The old woman expects despair, but Lishu calmly offers another spoonful of medicine.

Her husband really is dead—and his ashes have been in his mother’s medicine all along.

The day after our wedding, my husband went to the city for work and was killed by a falling billboard.

The CEO of the company responsible came to discuss compensation.

I said I was struggling to make ends meet.

He transferred me three million yuan.

I said I had nowhere to go.

He gave me a luxury apartment.

I said I didn’t want to stay a widow.

He gave me a handsome young man.

The morning after we slept together, he came to see me.

I was about to thank him when his expression changed.

“What is my brother doing here?!”

My elder half-sister was dying of an incurable illness.

My fiancé had just placed first in the imperial examinations.

She invited me to her house to entrust her children to my care.

After dinner, I lost consciousness.

When I woke, I was in her husband’s bed.

He slapped me several times, accusing me of scheming against him and drugging him.

My father’s wife held my grief-stricken sister and called me shameless.

I watched the three of them act out their little drama, coldly.

Fine.

Wonderful.

You could all go and die.