Romance

If you read a lot of historical romance novels, then I’m sure you’re familiar with this scene: An assassin draws his blade and lunges at the male lead.

At the critical moment, the female lead rushes forward and takes the stab for him.

She collapses into his arms, and he cries her name in panic…

When I transmigrated, this exact scene was unfolding.

You think I was the female lead? Nope.

And of course, I wasn’t the male lead either. I was the assassin.

The Prince Consort and I were famously husband and wife in name only.

He lived his life as the Lord Heir, and I lived mine as the Grand Princess.

We resided in separate estates and kept out of each other’s way. Until that reckless little cousin of his entered the capital.

She was a spoiled girl, indulged far beyond measure, relying on the Prince Consort’s protection and affection.

She “accidentally” barged into my study and set a fire that burned an entire room of my cherished memories to ash.

Afterward, she hid behind the Prince Consort, pouting as she complained, “I just couldn’t stand it. She’s already married to you, so why does she still keep a whole room full of portraits of other men?”

Pei Pingjin made excuses for her.

“My cousin was only being overly protective of me. Your Highness, please don’t be angry.”

I nodded. I was the First Princess, standing above tens of thousands. Why should I lower myself to get angry with a little girl?

So as I turned away, I abruptly drew my sword. With a sharp hiss, the blade pierced through the Prince Consort’s palm as he tried to stop it, then cut the little girl’s throat in a single stroke.

The first thing Lu Xiangzhi did after becoming the top scorer in the imperial examination was divorce his wife.

“The Shen family woman is virtuous enough, but far too dull.”

He married a woman from a brothel, while I remarried a spoiled heir.

Lu Xiangzhi believed I had only married that ignorant, good-for-nothing dandy out of spite.

He thought a Shen family woman valued wifely virtue above all else, while that dandy was too unruly to be managed.

It would not be long, he assumed, before the man grew tired of a dull woman like me.

He waited half a year, yet never heard that I had been cast aside.

When Lu Xiangzhi finally could not resist coming to see me, I was holding a discipline ruler and tapping my dandy husband’s head with it, rather helplessly saying, “The teacher explained it three times. You still don’t understand?”

My dandy husband wrapped an arm around my waist and grinned like a shameless rogue.

“I don’t. I want a kiss.”

The way I went from a Little Beggar to the Heir Apparent’s fiancée felt like a dream.

That day, I was crouched on the ground, gnawing on a coarse corn bun while watching two nobles argue.

They were like a pair of fighting roosters. It made for excellent dinner entertainment.

The Girl in Red sneered. “I would rather marry a fool or an idiot than ever marry a useless good-for-nothing like you!”

The Brocade-clad Youth roared back, “I would rather marry a chicken, marry a duck…” Halfway through, he pointed at me.

“I’d rather marry this Little Beggar than ever marry you!”

The Girl in Red looked at my dazed, foolish expression and laughed from sheer anger.

Her voice went taut as she said, “Fine! If you don’t marry her, you’re a cowardly bastard!”

I waited bitterly for Qu Huang for three years, only to receive a letter of divorce.

When the message arrived, I was still wiping down his bedridden mother.

It was March, and the late spring cold had returned, yet I was drenched in sweat from exhaustion.

My hands shook so badly I could barely take the thin silk letter the attendant handed me.

“Where is my husband?”

“The young master has already arrived in the front hall.”

I sighed, set down the damp towel in my hand, and smoothed back the stray hair at my temples.

“Very well. I’ll go with you.”

I transmigrated into the mistress of the Marquis’s Mansion, and my stepson was the devoted second male lead.

When he grew up, he would try to take the female lead by force and spend fortunes on her without blinking.

As for the male lead, he would sow discord, frame him, and set him up at every turn.

In the end, the male and female leads would join forces to defeat him.

He would flee into monastic life and never marry.

And the Marquis’s Mansion, implicated because of him, would be raided, stripped of its title, and tragically exiled.

After transmigrating, I looked at the tiny little thing in front of me, pretending to be obedient.

He wanted to grow gloomy and brooding? Absolutely not.

He was going to become sunny if it killed me. He wanted to squander money?

Absolutely not. I had to raise him into a stingy, family-minded model of virtue.

I was definitely going to protect the vast fortune of the Marquis’s Mansion.

Later, everyone said I threw money around like dirt and lived in arrogant, extravagant luxury.

My stepson refuted them.

“Nonsense. My mother is the most frugal, capable, virtuous, and dignified woman there is. She sponsored so many scholars with money she saved up herself. Could you do that?”

Someone said my methods were ruthless and that I acted like a man.

My stepson’s face turned cold.

“My mother is gentle, virtuous, and the very soul of benevolence. She clearly could have just robbed you outright, yet she still gave you a chance to compete fairly. You’re the one who was useless. Utter trash.”

Even his father couldn’t stand it anymore.

“Son, open your eyes and take a good look. Your mother is not the kind of person who lets herself be wronged.”

My stepson flew into a rage.

“Father, don’t force me to turn against you. You can say whatever you want about me, but you absolutely cannot say that about my mother.”

The man who had been sleeping in a separate room from me for the past six months was standing there with a pillow in his arms when I blocked him at the top of the stairs.

“The two of us together aren’t even fifty yet. We’re at the age when we should be all over each other. Is sleeping in separate rooms normal?”

He frowned at me, staring so hard that cold sweat prickled down my spine.

At last, he nodded. “Mm. It isn’t very normal.” Emboldened, I snatched the pillow out of his arms and grumbled, “You never used to be like this.”

“What did I use to be like?”

“You used to hold me every night when we slept, and before bed you’d call me your little baby.”

“…Did I?”

“You did!”

Look at me. Do these look like the eyes of a liar?

The villain was rich, but depressed.

I was poor, and worse, I was the heroine of an angst novel.

My parents were destined to die, leaving me and my grandmother to depend on each other.

Then, when Grandma fell seriously ill, I would have no choice but to grovel at the male lead’s feet.

He would torment me physically and emotionally, lock me up, make me miscarry, and in the end, I would die in despair.

Only then would he be filled with regret.

I figured all of it came down to being broke, so I decided to throw my lot in with the villain.

I found the villain quietly slitting his wrists and, fighting off the dizziness from low blood sugar, tried to talk him down.

“I’m not here to stop you. I just wanted to discuss whether you could maybe die a little later.”

“You don’t want your assets to go to your dad’s illegitimate son, do you? Are you really okay with them inheriting your money, buying yachts and private jets, and traveling the world?”

“All you have to do is hold on for a few more years. Then you’ll found your own company, become the new darling of the tech industry, and multiply your wealth more than tenfold.”

“I’ll help you take a shortcut. When the time comes, give me a cut, and I’ll help you get rid of Xie Xun.”

The villain’s eyes lit up, but he still looked disdainful.

“You?”

“Be grateful. Besides me, who else is on your side? Your dad? Your mom?”

That stabbed the villain right where it hurt.

Because he was an orphan with both parents still alive.

I was the concubine Madam forced on the General.

She was testing whether his heart had strayed.

He remained perfectly unmoved and ordered me to copy scriptures all night to prove his devotion.

And me? My hand ached. So did my heart.

After my husband’s favored concubine shoved me into a deep well, I miscarried. As crimson blood spread through the water, I heard a strange melody rise from the depths.

“Third Set of National Middle School Students’ Radio Gymnastics, Dancing Youth, begins now.”