Romance

I fell into a world of Strange Tales, but I thought I was playing a romance otome game.

At the stroke of midnight, the cobweb-covered landline rang. A raspy, eerie voice drifted through the receiver.

“You watched that videotape, didn’t you? In seven days… I will come for you…”

Me:

“Why seven days? Are you just not going to contact me at all during that time? Is this the silent treatment?

“And you’re only messaging me at midnight? Ah, I get it. You probably just finished spending time with someone else, and now your conscience is pricking you, so you’ve come to check on me.

“What’s the point of just calling? If you actually cared about me, you’d be by my side constantly. I absolutely hate long-distance relationships!”

Strange Tale: “Uh… I’ll come sooner, then.”

The other participants struggling to survive: “? No, wait, man! He said he’d take our lives in seven days-why the hell is he starting his shift early?”

Lately, I keep feeling as if there’s someone else in the house.

At night, while I’m studying in the Study, I hear a faint breathing sound behind the right wall, along with the soft rustling of clothing.

I’ve been living in my boyfriend’s house for two months now, and I’m familiar with the layout of this villa. There’s no room to the right of the Study-my boyfriend said so too.

But is there really not?

I’m the most notorious actress in the entire entertainment industry.

My agency booked me on a wilderness survival reality show.

They told me I had to kick up as much drama as possible to set off the “perfect” new girl they’d just signed-the so-called National Daughter.

But as soon as we got deep into the mountains, we lost contact with the production crew.

The variety show turned into actual wilderness survival.

Out there, I built a log cabin, hunted pheasants, caught fish, and lived a carefree life.

Meanwhile, those flawless idols were swearing like sailors just to stay alive.

They fought over supplies, and their carefully crafted images shattered completely.

Only later did we find out there were hidden cameras everywhere-and the whole thing had been streaming live every single day…

My husband and I have been sleeping in separate rooms for two years now. We’ve grown distant, with no passion left between us.

But last night, after he’d been drinking, he climbed into my bed and went absolutely wild…

I said, “Honey, you were nothing like yourself last night!”

Later, I saw a message from an unknown number on his phone:

“You slept with my wife, so I’m going to sleep with your wife. Only then are we even!”

My husband’s latest reply was:

“Now we’re square, right!”

The Emperor’s beloved Noble Consort, his one true love, was dead.

His one true love?

It was almost laughable.

And yet, the rumor had spread throughout all of Dayan.

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In the fourth year of our marriage, both Lu Jingli and I had affairs.

He kept a female college student, treating her like a treasure.

Behind his back, I supported a pure-hearted male college student, reliving the passion of youth.

I had thought he was already tired of this messy marriage.

But on the day he discovered my betrayal, he went crazy, insisting that we return to our family together.

The West Coast-style video I filmed of my son has gone viral.

But I’m not the one who’s famous.

It’s my son.

Netizens recognized him at a glance as a mini version of Liang Jingnian.

That man is the head of Xiyue Group and the renowned Crown Prince of the Jing Circle.

The more the internet dug, the more they found.

They even unearthed a video of Liang Jingnian and me breaking up, leading everyone to conclude that I’m the ex-girlfriend who ran away with his child.

I sighed. They’ve got it all wrong.

Liang Jingnian and I weren’t just dating-we were actually married.

Rumor had it that a woman bearing a Lotus Birthmark would become a femme fatale, a harbinger of war and destruction.

Upon hearing this, the Imperial Consort immediately dispatched her people to scour the countryside, intent on strangling this threat in its cradle.

When the news reached Jiangling City, Miss Song was consumed by terror.

She bore a Lotus Birthmark on her own body. If the Imperial Consort’s men found her, she knew she wouldn’t survive.

To save her, her lover decided to find another woman and brand a Lotus Birthmark onto her back, sending her into the palace to take Miss Song’s place.

It was a perilous mission. Even with the promise of a massive reward, there were few takers.

That was until I accepted the post in the Ghost Market.

“I’ll go.”

I committed suicide.

On New Year’s Eve, when families gather together.

But I never expected that my ex-husband, who had always been indifferent to me, would go mad with revenge against those who treated me badly after my death.

He even wanted to die for me.

Yet when I was alive, he clearly didn’t love me.

During the first week of the semester, I frequently dreamed of two men. Both of them claimed to be my boyfriend.

I woke up every morning with my entire body aching, so I went to see a psychiatrist.

“It’s just too much stress. Don’t be nervous.”

He gave me a mild smile and prescribed some medication. “Take these, and you’ll fall asleep much earlier.”

Later, I realized the dreams were only getting longer.

In the dream, the other man pinned my hands down and chuckled.

“I told you to keep the dosage small. If it lasts too long, she won’t be able to handle it.”