Romance

My beautiful, wealthy roommate and Beijing’s golden boy had a love life that was one long melodrama.

To make him jealous, she crooked a finger and stole the childhood friend I’d known for over ten years.

The golden boy came to find me.

“I’ll give you a hundred.

Get that mediocre childhood friend of yours away from her.”

Every novel I’d read about bringing an arrogant man to heel flashed through my mind.

I flicked my hair in what I hoped was a seductive gesture and said, “Give me two hundred.

Then pretend to be my dog and drive her crazy.”

“I guarantee she’ll never dare bring up breaking up with you again.”

He looked stunned.

“Two hundred?

Are you robbing me?”

I was stunned too.

“You can’t spare two hundred yuan?”

Suddenly, he went quiet.

I had a boyfriend who checked every box.

From his face to his body to his personality, he fit my tastes perfectly.

So perfectly it felt like a romance scam tailor-made for me.

Until that day, when I saw the bullet comments.

[The Female Supporting Character doesn’t actually think the Male Lead likes her, does she?]

[If his Simp Bro hadn’t threatened to jump off a building, why would he have spent so much time with a woman he doesn’t love?]

[The Simp Bro likes the Female Supporting Character himself, but he’s too insecure to confess, so he can only quietly play the role of her best friend.]

[And just because the Female Supporting Character said she was interested in the Male Lead, he actually trained his own bro into shape and sent him over to be her boyfriend. That’s insane.]

[It’s fine. Once the Female Lead shows up, the Female Supporting Character will learn the truth, and then the Male Lead will dump her.]

Stunned, I turned to look at the boyfriend beside me.

His brow was furrowed, and he looked a little impatient.

Then he said,

“No matter how long you stare at me, I’m not wearing it.”

“This outfit is seriously too much.”

I grew up in the countryside until I was seventeen. Then people from the capital came and told me I was the young lady of a marquis’s household.

But the moment I arrived in the capital, they hurriedly married me off to a spoiled wastrel.

Later, that wastrel caused a disaster and had his family estate confiscated. I was the only one who tossed him a sickle and said,

“Husband, come home with me and farm the fields.”

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.

Before my father, Zhao Yong’an, left to join the army, he said that if he died out there, my mother was allowed to remarry the village hunter.

But though the hunter had a crippled leg, he was the fiercest man around. They said he could kill a tiger with a single punch, and that he had even beaten his previous wife to death.

If my mother married him, it would be no different from sending her to her death.

Three years later, sure enough, news came that Father had died.

Grandmother and the clan elders took twenty taels of silver from the hunter and forced my mother to be sold off to him.

My father had held the imperial court in his grip for years.

He sent me into the palace and forced the emperor to take me as his empress.

On our wedding day, the young emperor and I came to blows.

With bloody scratches across his face, he swore, “Xiao Lingyue, I will wipe out your entire clan. Just wait!”

For six years, I strutted through the palace and clashed with him at every turn—until my father’s rebellion failed…

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?”

The world says that Cheng Xiu, the Director of the Eastern Depot, is sinister, cruel, treacherous, and ruthless.

The world is right.

I have always been competitive to a fault. When my elder sister from the legal wife fainted, I shoved the Regent Prince aside and carried her back to her chambers myself.

When my elder sister from a concubine fell into the water, I outstripped the Young Marquis to rescue her and bring her to shore.

When the Second Prince was about to win at pitch-pot, I fired two arrows simultaneously into the ears of the pot, snatching first place for myself.

At a palace banquet, Zhao Wangjian-who grew up with me-bet that I wouldn’t dare kick the Neighboring Country Prince in the backside. I laughed; there was nothing in this world I didn’t dare to do. I followed the prince into a small grove, but when I woke up, I was lying beneath Cheng Xiu.

He asked if I wanted to marry him.

Who would have thought? It turns out there actually is something in this world I don’t dare to do.

I was a terrible stickler for the truth.

When my husband returned from war, he brought a woman home.

The moment she saw me, she dropped to her knees and declared that she wanted to marry the marquis, even if she could only be his concubine.

I said nothing at the time.

But after tossing and turning until midnight, I could bear it no longer and knocked on her door.

My husband wasn’t the marquis.

The marquis in this household was my widowed father-in-law; my husband was only his third son, born to a concubine.

Her dimming eyes suddenly lit up at the word widowed.

How do you get a man to spend five million on you with a single sentence?

“Sir, your face bears an omen of disaster.” The man looked at me with utter disdain.

The next second, the Rolls-Royce he had parked by the roadside was hit by a van.

It exploded on the spot.