Romance

Marrying Zhao Yunyan, Duke Wei, was hardly a joyous occasion.

He had a cherished concubine, an understanding childhood sweetheart who knew his heart.

He also had a red rose who had once saved his life, a woman he kept outside the manor in a relationship no one could quite explain.

One had accompanied him through childhood; the other had dazzled him in his youth.

No matter how one looked at it, there was no place left for me, his lawful wife.

Mother wept and said I was too simple and straightforward by nature, that I would never be able to warm my husband’s heart.

How was I supposed to live like that?

I comforted her.

I did not seek true love, nor would I harm any concubine.

If I held on to my dignity and cherished myself, how could I not live well?

My husband Chen Jing and I lived in harmony as a married couple, raising a son and a daughter.

Everyone said that for a merchant’s daughter like me to marry Chen Jing was a stroke of divine luck.

I deeply believed that too.

Reborn back to the year I turned sixteen, I held up the embroidered ball, waiting quietly for the new top scholar as he made his triumphant ride through the streets.

But Chen Jing waved the embroidered ball away.

He didn’t even care who the ball hit. It was as if, in this life, whoever I married had nothing to do with him.

I suddenly realized with a start- In this life, Chen Jing wanted a different wife.

Later, the good man I married was the very one he had caused the embroidered ball to strike.

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.”

After being reborn on my wedding night, I fed the male lead the Virtuous Wife Charm.

The world-hopping woman tried to become his concubine.

He said, “How could one man promise himself to two women?”

The world-hopping woman gave him high-yield superior seeds.

He said, “With such a divine treasure, why would my wife ever need to worry about failing in her great cause?”

The world-hopping woman broke down.

“You useless piece of trash! If this keeps up, how are you supposed to rise up and rule the world?”

He said, “My wife can dominate a region all on her own. Why would I need to rise up and rule the world?”

On the day I ascended the throne, his charm broke.

“You vile woman! How dare you usurp my legacy!” His eyes nearly split with rage.

I propped my chin on my hand. “Someone, this man has shown disrespect to Us. Kill him.”

The moment my daughter was born, Old Madam Lu of the Yongchang Marquis Estate took her away.

There was only one reason: I was once the most celebrated courtesan in Yongning, and the kept mistress of the marquis’s heir.

A filthy, lowborn prostitute like me had no right to raise the estate’s precious young lady.

Not even when I was the one who had given birth to her.

[BL + Infinite Flow + Supernatural + Crack + HE]

Before he died, Qiao Yu had a boyfriend. Their relationship was the kind of earth-shattering, legendary romance that everyone knew about-the type where they swore that not even the mountains crumbling or the heavens and earth merging would part them.

They survived the seven-year itch, and just as they were about to meet the parents and step into the halls of marriage, his big, handsome boyfriend suddenly vanished!

Vanished, in the literal sense. No body, no trace, nothing.

Faced with the world’s mockery, Qiao Yu continued to eat, drink, and sleep as usual. Then, a year later, he was hit by a car and died.

Qiao Yu finally believed it: flaunt your love, and you’ll die fast.

After an unknown amount of time, he woke up and suddenly became ‘Qiao Yu.’

Perhaps the reboot process was a bit glitchy, because he was inexplicably dragged into an escape live stream-the kind where people actually died.

And then… that boyfriend of his, who had been classified as a missing person, was standing right in front of him, shamelessly trying to hold his hand.

Qiao Yu: “Piss off.”

**

During a boss rampage in the Live Stream Room, Qiao Yu gouged out his own eyeball and, with a face covered in blood, scared the boss into fleeing for its life.

A hand suddenly pulled back the arrogantly laughing Qiao Yu: “Stop messing around. My heart can’t take it.”

Qiao Yu immediately popped his eyeball back in: “Then should I rub it for you?”

“Come on then. Whoever doesn’t rub it is a grandson!”

Qiao Yu: “Grandpa.”

“…Shut up!”

A mischievous S who values money over his life vs. a G who thinks everyone in the world is trash except for himself and Qiao Yu.

Ever since I was little, I had been slow and lacking in wit, while Elder Sister was extraordinarily gifted.

At a poetry gathering held at Marquis Manor, she was afraid I would embarrass myself, so in private, she composed a poem for me.

None of us expected that the true purpose of the gathering was to choose a wife for the Second Young Master of Marquis Manor. And the poem she wrote for me was the very one that caught the Second Young Master’s eye.

Later, I married into Marquis Manor.

After the wedding, Pei You discovered just how dull and ignorant I truly was.

Only then did he realize I was not the person who had written that poem that day.

Pei You resented me, blamed me, despised me.

He said his wife should not be someone like me, a woman with nothing but a pretty face and not a drop of learning inside her.

Whenever we were intimate, he would lean close to my ear and mock me, saying I had none of the dignified bearing of a proper main wife, only a body full of vixenish allure that was of some small use in bed.

I was terrified.

So when I returned to the day of that poetry gathering, I stopped Elder Sister before she could write a poem for me. My voice trembled as I said,

“Thank you, Elder Sister, but there is no need.”

Three days after I married the Foolish Prince, he started making a fuss about moving out of the bedchamber.

I grabbed him and demanded to know why. Blushing, he stammered, “When Ah Heng sleeps with my wife, Ah Heng always wets the bed.”

My gaze slid downward, and realization struck me at once.

As I helped him, my own face burning, I couldn’t resist teasing him. “Only children wet the bed. Why is Your Highness just like a child?”

Later, the clingy fool recovered and became the cool, aloof prince he truly was.

Day and night, he pressed close to me, his breath warm against my ear. “Only children wet the bed, Princess Consort… Why are you just like a child?”

In the third year of my marriage to my childhood sweetheart,

I happened to stumble across an old post he’d written.

In it, he talked about being forced to part from the person he truly loved, and how he had “no choice” but to marry the girl-next-door childhood friend.

And I just so happened to be that childhood friend in his story.

In his tragic little romance, I was the obstacle standing between the male and female leads.

My five-year unrequited love has come to an end.

It ended because Shen Chen’s “white moonlight,” Su Yue, has returned.

Half a month ago, on the first day of autumn, I made some stewed pear soup to bring to Shen Chen.

Shen Chen smokes constantly and never listens when I tell him to stop, so I’ve made it a habit to prepare stewed pears with fritillary bulbs for him whenever the seasons change.

When I arrived, Shen Chen opened the door shirtless.

As the door swung wide, the air in the room smelled thick and suggestive. The scent of body wash clinging to him was the very one we had bought together.

I looked down and immediately spotted a pair of round-toed, mid-heel shoes. They were cute, yet they felt like an eyesore.

“Who is it?” a sweet, cloying female voice called out from the bedroom.

Shen Chen took the pear soup from my hands. His eyes were filled with guilt, but he prioritized his options in an instant.

“It’s just delivery.”