Romance

After being stolen from her husband and caged in the palace, Jiang Yunshu dies branded as the stain on an emperor’s perfect reign.

Reborn before her disastrous marriage, she breaks her engagement, evades Prince Jing’s search, and chooses the sickly Crown Prince Xie Zhao as her unlikely ally.

Armed with memories of betrayal and rebellion, Yunshu pursues revenge against everyone who destroyed her first life.

Yet the partner she meant to use may become the one man willing to share both his throne and his years with her.

Shen Chang’an is reborn on the day her elder sister again tries to force the family into a disastrous royal marriage.

In their first life, that choice delivered the throne to a ruthless prince and condemned more than three hundred members of the Shen clan to grotesque deaths.

But Chang’an soon discovers that her sister remembers the past as well—and has merely chosen a different prince to cling to.

Refusing to entrust her fate to any man, Chang’an retreats to Jiangnan, studies statecraft and military strategy, cultivates a divine reputation, and turns the imperial succession into her own chessboard.

Crown Prince Lu Zhao wants to possess her; Third Prince Lu Heng thinks he can use her to seize the throne.

Both are wrong.

Armed with foreknowledge, family power, and an unshakable will, Chang’an sets out not only to avenge the dead, but to claim the realm for herself.

That morning, I was still a filthy beggar.

By nightfall, I had been scrubbed clean and smelled sweet.

I had sold myself to a brothel.

The madam looked me up and down, a smile spreading through the creases of her forehead.

“The Mid-Autumn Festival is in five days.

You’ll start taking clients then.”

I didn’t look at her.

The money was in my pocket.

Did she really think she still had a say?

All I wanted now was a good night’s sleep.

The room was lovely in every way, except that the fragrance made my head swim.

I shut the door and pushed open a small, carved window.

A streak of white light squeezed through the gap.

It widened until it filled my vision.

Why was there a luxurious room outside my window?

A man sat straight-backed at a writing desk, his head bent over the bow he was polishing.

He looked up and saw me too.

He wasn’t surprised, but he was very angry.

“I asked for nothing in return.

Who brought you into my residence?

This is absurd!”

Only then did I see his face clearly.

He was extraordinarily handsome.

It was Song Shan.

Wait.

Song Shan?

Hadn’t he been put to death by slow slicing at the third quarter of the noon watch that very day?

I had watched it myself.

My sister died, leaving behind two young children.

Mother begged me to marry her widower.

I got straight to the point.

“Your grandson is precious.

If he misbehaves, may I smack him?”

Mother nodded repeatedly.

“Of course.”

“Your granddaughter is delicate.

If she does something wrong, may I scold her?”

“No problem.”

“And my brother-in-law?

I’ve never liked him.

May I beat him up?”

Mother wiped the sweat from her brow.

“You’ll have to ask your mother-in-law about that.

I didn’t give birth to him, after all…”

At sixteen, Fu Zhiya wakes on the day she finished her high school entrance exam, decades before her husband, sister, and mother shattered her life.

This time, she refuses to carry anyone else’s debts.

As she cuts ties with a family that never truly chose her, faces old betrayals in their earliest forms, and fights for her education, she begins to discover what it means to live for herself.

But freedom is never given freely—and every boundary she draws forces the people around her to reveal who they really are.

My elder half-sister was dying of an incurable illness.

My fiancé had just placed first in the imperial examinations.

She invited me to her house to entrust her children to my care.

After dinner, I lost consciousness.

When I woke, I was in her husband’s bed.

He slapped me several times, accusing me of scheming against him and drugging him.

My father’s wife held my grief-stricken sister and called me shameless.

I watched the three of them act out their little drama, coldly.

Fine.

Wonderful.

You could all go and die.

On the night I was crowned Empress, Lu Yuheng personally handed me a cup of Poisoned Wine. He said that since the Ye Family’s name had been cleared, I should spend one night as a glorious Empress before going to meet my kin with a clean slate. But what he didn’t know was that the most painful wound of my life was never death-it was him.

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.

My sister was beautiful and brilliant, always effortlessly winning people over.

Compared to her, my plain self was like a timid little mouse.

My parents used to say, “How can you even compare yourself to your sister?”

My childhood friend said, “Jiajia and you don’t look like sisters.”

I asked him, “Then what do we look like instead?”

Sniffling, he replied:

“Like a princess and her maid.”

That was until I met Cen Yi.

My parents were clinging to my sister, introducing her to his family and boasting about how exceptional their daughter was.

I stood off to the side, stealing glances at the cookies on the table.

But he bypassed everyone else and pulled me into a tight embrace.

“Mine,”

he said.

“I’m sorry, ma’am, but this card has insufficient funds.”

I froze for a heartbeat before quickly handing over another one.

The red light flashed again.

“I’m sorry, this card is also declined.”

“…What?”

I steadied my breathing and dialed my husband’s number.

“Honey, haven’t you been paid yet? The baby is out of formula.”

His voice through the receiver was devoid of warmth.

“A household isn’t supported by one person alone. I expect you to learn how to be independent instead of living like some pathetic parasite.”

With those words, he declared war.

Fine.

Then let the hunt begin.