Psychological

Two years into our marriage, I finally became pregnant.

But then my husband brought home an eight-year-old girl.

That girl called him “Dad.”

My Eldest Senior Sister was a brilliant talent, yet she died young, a victim of schemes and conspiracies.

My Little Junior Sister was charming and lovely, yet she died after being possessed by a Demon Creature and suffering endless torment.

Then there was me-the plain, unremarkable Second Senior Sister of the Sect. I never drew any attention, but I lived long enough.

Eventually, I became the Sect Ancestor, taking on countless disciples. I finally passed away peacefully of old age, surrounded by the weeping of my many students and their successors.

When I opened my eyes again, I had returned to my youth.

At that time, Eldest Senior Sister was already the Prodigy everyone looked up to, and Little Junior Sister had just joined the Sect.

The two of them hadn’t yet become bitter rivals over a man; they were still sisters who loved and cared for one another.

Looking at the two of them in their prime, I made a firm resolution:

I still need to keep my head down. As long as I lay low and survive long enough, the Magical Artifacts and immortal elixirs will all be mine eventually.

However, this time around, both Eldest Senior Sister and Little Junior Sister took a liking to visiting my place.

Eldest Senior Sister once asked me with a heavy heart,

“Second Junior Sister, he always says that Little Junior Sister is better than me. I know it’s not her fault, but I still feel a spark of jealousy. Am I truly that terrible?”

I replied, “Eldest Senior Sister, one thought leads to divinity, another to the demonic. Has he caused a heart demon to take root in you?”

Eldest Senior Sister’s expression turned solemn, and she cupped her hands toward me in respect.

“Thank you, Junior Sister. I have learned much from your words.”

She turned around and immediately broke off her engagement with her Fiancé.

Little Junior Sister also came to me to complain, looking lost.

“The Senior Brothers have all given me so many things. Sometimes I really can’t use them all, but I’m afraid of offending people, so I rotate through them every day. It’s much better here with you, Senior Sister; it’s always so peaceful. But don’t you find it a bit lonely?”

I hummed in agreement and gave a gentle answer.

“I don’t like letting too many people into my life. I think things are perfect just as they are.”

Little Junior Sister dithered for a moment, her eyes shimmering with envy.

Later on, she started becoming someone not to be trifled with, systematically removing a great many people from her life.

Ironically, those people were the ones who refused to let go.

The couple living across from me fought until midnight every single day, while their child wandered around scavenging for trash to eat.

Anyone who dared to give the boy food was met with a barrage of verbal abuse at their doorstep, or even targeted with malicious sexual rumors.

One day, as I was passing through the stairwell, I spotted the boy hiding in a corner, too afraid to look at me. “Hey kid, want something to eat?” I asked.

He claimed he wasn’t hungry, but his stomach was growling like thunder. “Big sister, just leave me alone,” he sobbed. “My mom isn’t a good person.”

I leaned down and looked him in the eye. “Well, neither am I.”

On the eve of my wedding, my biological father, stepmother, and fiancé conspired to commit me to a mental asylum.

My crime? Being so “insane” that I attacked someone with a knife.

Three years later, I was discharged with a ten-billion-dollar inheritance that requires only my signature to claim.

Everyone expects me to still be a lunatic, but this time, I’m going to make them pay.

While I am at my most lucid, I will reclaim the lives, the money, and the truth they owe me, one debt at a time.

I’ve read so many novels about the “crematorium” trope-where the husband has to crawl back and beg for forgiveness-but I never expected to find myself starring in one.

Except there’s no chasing, only the crematorium.

Because I’m actually dead.

I’ve become a ghost, watching the man who betrayed me. Seven days after my death, he finally seems crushed by a delayed sense of grief. In the home I can never return to, he howls in agony, acting as if life is no longer worth living.

You want to know how I feel?

I just stand there blankly, carefully admiring every inch of pain etched onto his face.

I listen intently to his desperate wails, triggered by my departure.

Beyond the desolation and heartache in my soul, a massive wave of schadenfreude suddenly wells up within me.

A joyful, blissful sense of schadenfreude.

It’s a sensation so sharp it borders on thrill. I cover my mouth and begin to laugh.

When the chandelier came crashing down, Pei Yi pushed me toward death to protect another woman.

As I lay there, blood streaming from my head, I was so happy I could have bashed my skull against a wall.

The woman who had hijacked my body had finally failed her mission and been wiped out.

Having reclaimed control of my own body, I didn’t spare Pei Yi a single glance.

Yet, with bloodshot eyes, he blocked my path. “Is it… is it really you? Have you come back?”

I am the most ill-fated princess in history.

Widowed young, my homeland was invaded, I was carried off to a foreign land, and after suffering endless humiliation, I died at the age of twenty.

When I woke up, I thanked heaven it had only been a dream.

But then my maid told me that Father Emperor had betrothed me to the doomed Cheng Su.

In an instant, dream and reality overlapped…

Thinking of Cheng Su’s beautiful face, I steeled myself and made my decision.

“Tell Father Emperor I refuse this marriage!”

It has been three years since I transmigrated into this brothel.

I have mastered the arts of seduction, and no one knows better than I how to make a man lose his very soul in ecstasy.

But then, I overheard a group of new girls gossiping.

“It’s hilarious. Our Flower Queen really thinks she’s living in ancient times.”

“A refined Female Doctor, tricked into working as a whore for three years. These rich people really know how to have a good time.”

“Do you think she’d go insane if she found out this was all orchestrated by her ‘Young Marquis’?”

“Shh! Every actor who comes in here has signed a life-and-death waiver. Who would dare let her know?”

I froze in place, as if plunged into a pit of ice.

Could it be that these three years of transmigration were nothing more than a scam?

Before I could regain my composure, the Young Marquis’s cold voice suddenly rang out from behind me.

“Fudong, what are you doing here?”

I got bitten by a dog, went to get a rabies shot, and ran into my ex-boyfriend. On my inner thigh, there wasn’t just a bite mark; there was also a tattoo of his name. He let out a derisive snicker. “Still haven’t had it removed?” “Is my name really that unforgettable to you?”

This was the seventeenth time I’d run into my roommate Cheng Yuming’s girlfriend on my way downstairs.

As was her habit, she pulled a plump orange from her bag and offered it to me, her eyes curving into a gentle, sweet smile.

I didn’t take it. I simply called her name. “Jiang Tingyu.”

“Yes?”

“Try a different fruit,” I said, my voice flat. “Oranges cause too much internal heat.”