Psychological

When we loved each other most, Jiang Shen and I promised ourselves three lifetimes together.

Perhaps our hearts were too sincere in that moment, for Heaven actually granted our wish.

In our first life, he and I walked hand in hand through the innocence of youth, stopping only one step short of marriage.

In our second, he was reborn as the Crown Prince, second only to the emperor and above all others, while I became the daughter of an impoverished family. I was imprisoned deep within the palace; he galloped across the battlefield.

In our third, the wheel of fortune turned, and it was I who became the sovereign.

Three lives, three lifetimes. How romantic—and how terribly long.

Long enough for me to become meat beneath another’s knife. Long enough for me to become the butcher.

And long enough for me to be born anew.

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 mother’s new husband’s son called me a gold-digging freeloader, said my mother had seduced his father, and declared us both shameless sluts.

I cornered him against the wall and attacked his lips with my tongue.

“That’s right! My mom seduced your dad, and now I want to seduce you!”

The school heartthrob claimed I had a crush on him, mocked me for dreaming above my station, then photocopied my secret diary and scattered the pages all over campus.

I pasted his face over a photo of the hottest host at a male revue, then grabbed his ass in front of the entire school.

“Are you jealous because I didn’t book you last weekend?”

When my homeroom teacher said I was a troublemaker and threatened to punish me, I tied him up instead.

“When a student misbehaves, her teacher is to blame—so please accept your punishment, sir!”

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.”

After my older sister was assaulted, she fell for her attacker.

He was handsome, she said, and she wanted to marry him.

The news landed our parents in the hospital.

She still refused to come to her senses.

She clung to that man shamelessly and even transferred our family’s money to him behind our parents’ backs.

Everyone thought she had lost her mind.

Only I did everything I could to grant her wish and help her marry him.

The day Grandpa’s legs were crushed, I knelt on the ground, kowtowing as I heard the thoughts of the people around me.

[The heroine is so pitiful. Shouldn’t we help her?]

[No! If we help her, how is Song Hansheng supposed to make his entrance? He’s my favorite male lead in a redemption romance!]

[Shen Song is the heroine’s true love!]

[Nonsense! The heroine is the wife I picked for my darling Jiang Yanbei!]

Later, those male leads really did enter my life, one after another.

They loved me, saved me, fought over me, and tried to force me into their arms…

But I hated this world, and I had no need to be saved.

My goal was to kill the male leads.

Sixteen-year-old maid Chen Yue’er has spent her entire life inside the House of Crimson Delight, where women who claim to have transmigrated are bought cheaply and broken quickly.

When the irrepressible Zhi Niang arrives expecting a trashy romance, she discovers an age that treats women as property and refuses to let it crush her spirit.

Through forced prostitution, betrayal, war, captivity, and flight, Zhi Niang and Yue’er cling to each other and turn survival into a stubborn march toward freedom.

Darkly funny and unflinching, their journey is a story of female friendship, dignity, and the courage to keep living without looking back.

My father was once the best-known peddler on Qingyun Street.

He walked from lane to lane selling everything from thread to malt candy.

Then he became addicted to opium.

He sold Mother back to a brothel and stuffed my little sister and me into the baskets on his carrying pole.

The last time he shouldered that pole, the rest of our lives swung from either end.

I am a woman of boundless kindness.

So when Song Lin’an told me that the only woman he had ever loved was my elder half sister, I sent him straight to the grave without hesitation.

“My sister is dead, and since your devotion runs so deep, you should join her. No need to thank me. Nothing delights me more than helping true lovers fulfill their wishes.”

When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day of our betrothal.

Song Lin’an glared at me and humiliated me before everyone. “The Song family will only welcome a truly virtuous woman. We will never let a vicious shrew through our doors!”

He broke off the match and made me the laughingstock of the capital.

He also branded me a vicious woman.

Song Lin’an schemed his way into marrying my elder half sister instead.

No one wanted me after that.

On the day they returned to visit her family, Song Lin’an sneered at me. “Everyone knows what you really are now. Let us see who else you can ruin!”

I only smiled.

The fool had no idea that in our previous life, I had lived to eighty while he had dropped dead at twenty.

I knew far too many things he did not.

When Princess Huaying catches a lowly musician wearing her ceremonial robes, mysterious floating comments reveal that she is meant to be the vicious supporting villainess in someone else’s triumphant love story.

Refusing the fate of disgrace, exile, and death assigned to her, Huaying turns every trap against the scheming Prince of Qi and follows a buried imperial secret to the heart of a decades-old succession struggle.

Yet when rebellion finally erupts, Huaying discovers that her cleverest ally may be her formidable mother—and that surviving the story requires more than defeating its supposed heroine.