Romance

I was a palace maid serving at the emperor’s side when I accidentally started seeing floating comments.

The comments said the emperor was hopelessly love-brained.

By day, when Consort Gui treated him coldly, he acted as if he couldn’t care less.

By night, he would sob under the covers, terrified his eyes would turn red from crying, then sneak out of bed in the middle of the night to press ice against them.

I didn’t believe it. Was this really my cold-blooded, ruthless, domineering emperor?

Later, I discovered the comments were right.

He really was love-brained.

Only, the target of his obsession had become me.

But I… didn’t love him.

I was the famous beauty for miles around.

Oval face, shapely figure, hardworking. Suitors came asking for my hand from one end of the village to the other.

After weighing my options again and again, I chose Shen Jingzhi.

He was the only scholar in the several villages near us, with clean, handsome features, a gentle way of speaking, and a scholarly air no one else had.

My parents said he had a bright future ahead of him.

If I married him, maybe I’d even end up a government official’s wife someday.

They were only half right. Shen Jingzhi did indeed earn an excellent ranking later on.

But he was also unexpectedly taken back by the General’s Mansion and, in the blink of an eye, turned into a young master from a powerful family.

He didn’t want anything to do with his past anymore.

Neither I nor my mother-in-law was wanted anymore.

My roommate insisted on teaching me how to chase her childhood sweetheart.

Then she turned around and made a post asking for help:

[My good son said he wants to date, so as his dad, I introduced him to my roommate.

[And he got mad.

[How am I supposed to coax him, huh~]

The comments were dying of laughter:

[Brother Pei doesn’t want to date. He wants to date you.]

[He’s mad because you’re so clueless!]

The barrage comments exploded too:

[If the supporting female character tries a little harder, this dense female lead is about to realize her own feelings.]

[With her in the middle, their feelings will heat up and sparks will fly, and then they’ll finally break that last unspoken barrier~]

[She’s seriously using 001 like he’s Unit 001, huh.]

[Pretty durable, then. So when is she going to use him up and toss him in the trash?]

I let out a soft laugh.

Then I deleted the draft I’d been about to post: [Not chasing him anymore.]

You want me to keep pursuing him?

Sure.

It’s just that-

if I really do win him over,

don’t go being unhappy about it again.

Chapter 0

My Empress Mother was a transmigrator. Before she returned to her original world, she told me:

I am the vicious villainess in a side story. I would supposedly be consumed by hatred born of love, commit all sorts of evil, and ultimately bring about my own destruction, my corpse abandoned in the wilderness.

“Until you have the power to protect yourself, remember: you must stay far away from Gu Qinglan.”

At first, I truly intended to stay away from Gu Qinglan.

But the plot still forced us to cross paths in the capital.

Left with no choice, I took on the role of the villain and began actively sabotaging him.

Yet, Gu Qinglan looked at me in confusion and said:

“Why is it that even though you’re so wicked, I still find myself falling for you?”

Tsk, tsk. Honestly? I have no words!

The emperor woke from a nightmare in the dead of night. In his dream, he had a daughter who had been lost among the common people. So he offered a handsome reward for any news of the princess’s whereabouts.

Everyone said His Majesty was a man of deep feeling.

But I knew there was another reason behind it.

The capital had gone a full year without rain. National Preceptor Xuanxiu advised the emperor that the only way to end the drought was to sink a princess into the river as a sacrifice to the gods.

The emperor had only one daughter, born of the Empress, and he treasured her like the apple of his eye.

And so, at long last, he remembered that sixteen years ago, when he had been living among the common people, he had once had another daughter.

He offered a great reward to find her so that daughter could take Princess Mingzhu’s place.

And die.

The day Fu Chengbi broke up with me, I got into a car accident.

I didn’t die.

The one who died was the personality inside me that loved him.

My fiancé returned from the front, and with him he brought a woman.

She wore a long crimson robe, a curved saber fastened at her waist. She rode in through the city gates on horseback, bold and dazzling, like the wild azaleas that set the mountains ablaze in spring.

“So this is the kind of girl Ning Zhen likes.” She folded her arms and looked me over, one brow lifting. There was no telling from her tone whether she was pleased or displeased.

Ning Zhen only glanced at her helplessly. “A childhood promise can hardly be taken seriously.”

What a fine thing to say-a childhood promise could hardly be taken seriously.

I had waited three years for him, only to be given those words.

My wife is the kindest person in the world to me.

I know I should cherish her, but looking at her body, which has been out of shape since she gave birth, I honestly can’t muster a spark of interest.

I ended up keeping a mistress on the side. She’s been pressuring me to get a divorce, but I refuse.

I tell her that my wife loves me too much-that she wouldn’t be able to survive without me.

I’ll stay in this marriage out of pity for her.

The daughter of the Yong’an Marquis Estate had committed a grave breach of etiquette within the palace, accidentally shattering a relic of the Late Emperor.

Furious, Grand Princess Anping ordered her to be seized and brought back to the Princess Manor immediately.

That night. The Heir of the Yong’an Marquis Estate knelt at the foot of my steps.

I reclined on my daybed, my fingertip tapping rhythmically against the armrest.

My gaze swept slowly over him, tracing the line of his brow, his Adam’s apple, and the breadth of his shoulders.

After a long silence, I finally uttered a single word: “Strip.” Those slender hands, which had once composed the most brilliant of essays, trembled as they reached for the buttons of his slate-blue official uniform.

After an argument with Zhou Mingyu, I jumped from the thirtieth floor with my five-month-old daughter in my arms.

When I opened my eyes again, time had actually returned to yesterday.

On this day, because the baby wouldn’t stop crying, Zhou Mingyu snapped at me for the first time: “Chen Ran, you don’t have a mother yourself, so it’s no wonder you don’t even know how to take care of a child!”

Our relationship had always been good, so I thought he hadn’t meant it; I blamed it on my own volatile temper and for taking things too hard.

But time continued to flow backward, and I discovered that this wasn’t the first time Zhou Mingyu had said such things: During my postpartum recovery month, he joked, “If your mother were still alive, my mother wouldn’t be so exhausted.”

On the day I was hospitalized to give birth, in response to the nurse’s questions, he said with a smile, “Her mother passed away, so who else could be her caregiver but me?”

At our wedding, he held my hand and vowed, “Chen Ran, I will definitely take good care of you in your mother’s stead!”

… It turned out he had always cared about the fact that I didn’t have a mother.

But the strange thing was, why didn’t I have any memory of my mother at all?

Had she ever truly existed?

If time continued to flow backward, would I eventually see her?