Romance

Everyone in Shengjing knows that Young Marquis Shen despises his wife, Meng Suichao.

He spends his days in brothels while she tends to him with unfailing devotion—until a scar destroys the one resemblance that kept her at his side.

When Suichao finally asks for a divorce, an old love believed dead returns through the snow, forcing every buried truth into the light.

A mistaken phone call makes Si Yun order her distant contract husband, Huo Jingheng, to come home before she locks the door.

He obeys—and after an illness brings them closer, the cold businessman discovers how much he wants her care, her rules, and a real marriage.

But meddling parents, a proposed heiress, and the fragile terms of their agreement force them to decide whether their marriage is still a transaction or the home they have both been missing.

I had been nursing a secret crush on Zhuang Jinyu for five years.

My home was filled with life-sized dolls made in his likeness.

While on a business trip, Zhuang Jinyu was caught in a mudslide and ended up comatose in the hospital.

I was wailing his name, sobbing uncontrollably after seeing the news, when a voice drifted down from above me.

It was a lazy, haughty voice, delivered with a biting tone I knew all too well.

“What are you screaming for? Trying to wake the dead?”

My crying jagged to a halt. I spun around in terror. The tall, exquisitely crafted doll standing behind me had actually come to life.

To win Jiang Bai over, I, a spoiled little princess with a monthly allowance of hundreds of thousands, spent three whole years pretending to be dirt poor.

All just so I could mooch meals and drinks off him.

But now his “white moonlight” has suddenly returned, and she even had the nerve to mock me for being a broke loser.

Fine! Great! You want to see who’s richer?

I’m done pretending!

My father successfully overthrew the throne, and he didn’t know how best to gloat:

“The Deposed Emperor still has his charms, and the Former Crown Prince is quite the beauty. I bestow them both upon my daughter!”

The father and son were so enraged they spat blood.

I was even more agitated: “Why give them to me? Give them a death sentence!”

During the year of our purest love, Chen Ming and I shared a kiss in front of everyone when we won the Zhengfa Cup debate competition.

But later, when our son was diagnosed with autism, we both came to regret it.

After ten years of love, the wear and tear of life had transformed us from a match made in heaven into a pair of bitter rivals.

Time skipped forward to our son’s fifth birthday.

Chen Ming and I were in the car, arguing once again over our child’s illness.

Right in front of our son, we cursed each other, screaming for the other to drop dead.

The next second, an out-of-control heavy truck barreled toward us.

Chen Ming went against his instincts and jerked the steering wheel to the right, but the violent impact swallowed all the shouting and cursing anyway.

When I woke up again, we were back on the day we won the Zhengfa Cup.

This time, facing a stadium full of cheering and jeering, we pretended we barely knew each other.

I’d had a crush on my best friend’s stiff, proper little brother for years.

To look younger, I always wore fresh, barely-there makeup and bright, cheerful outfits whenever I saw Jiang Heng.

He never so much as batted an eye.

Then came the bachelorette party before my best friend’s wedding.

With my hair in big, man-eater waves, a bodycon skirt, black stockings, and red-soled heels, I cut completely loose.

Afterward, I took my hopelessly drunk best friend home.

The door opened.

Jiang Heng and I stared straight at each other.

The sweet-girl act I’d kept up around him for years shattered on the spot.

Feeling guilty, I turned to leave.

But Jiang Heng, always so cool and scrupulously polite, raised a hand to block the doorway.

“It’s late, Qingzhou.

Why don’t you stay the night?”

When the apocalypse came, I struggled to stay alive.

Then the zombie king ate a hopeless romantic’s brain—and fell hopelessly in love with me.

Every day, I opened my door to find him offering me fresh food, eager to please.

Until he read a book called The Rules of a Shady Merchant.

Then the food came with a price.

“One sausage for a hug.

One bag of bread for a kiss.”

“What about hot pot?”

I asked nervously.

The zombie king chuckled and beckoned me closer.

“That costs a little more.

Come here, and I’ll explain it to you.

Slowly.”

My buddy’s older sister was an aloof, goddess-level doctor, and every time I saw her, my heart started pounding.

Then one day, while I was eating skewers at a barbecue stand, I passed out from blood loss and got rushed to the hospital in an ambulance.

After she performed hemorrhoid surgery on me, I finally found out she’d been secretly in love with me for ten whole years!

By day, my straight roommate and I are sworn enemies.

By night, I secretly write slash fanfiction about the two of us.

[He slowly closed his eyes, his soft lips pressing against mine…]

That very night, in my dreams, we reenacted the exact scene from my story.

Later, I discovered that whatever I wrote, I would dream about that night.

I became addicted to it, losing myself in the fantasies until there was no turning back.

Still, I always made sure to maintain a sense of propriety, never daring to go too far or truly offend him.

Until one day, I finally plucked up the courage to reach out and touch my roommate in the dream.

The next morning, the look in his eyes when he turned to me was dark and unreadable.

“What’s the point of just dreaming?” he said, grabbing my hand and pulling me toward him.

It turned out that I wasn’t the only one; he had been having those dreams too.