Romance

Gu Lin is a notoriously timid player who survives the Infinite Horror Game only by hiding behind her powerful boyfriend, Li Jingchi.

When a harmless slogan mutates into a world rule and hurls her into an SSS-rank wedding instance, she wakes beside a charred, many-armed entity that insists she is its wife.

To escape, Gu Lin must decode the rules, confront the man who sacrificed her, and decide whether the monster she fears is truly more dangerous than the humans she once trusted.

My best friend is the heroine of a forced-love novel.

The male lead, Gu Beichen, destroyed her career, got her first love killed, and locked her up in a villa like some precious treasure.

I’m the heroine of an angst novel, and I have it even worse than she does.

The male lead, Shen Xingjin, killed my child, cut out my kidney, ruined my entire family, and treated me like a plaything.

My best friend and I wanted to change our fates.

Later, Gu Beichen and Shen Xingjin, those two unhinged male leads, fell in love with each other.

On the eve of His Majesty’s bestowal of marriage, I lay in the Crown Prince’s arms and murmured, “Your Highness dotes on me so much. When my sister marries into the household, she won’t be angry, will she? Everyone else envies Your Highness for receiving His Majesty’s favor and being allowed to hold the wedding in the palace, but all I feel is sorry for you. It must be exhausting.”

I thought I was just putting on a fragile, sweet little act for the Crown Prince.

I never expected him to be sincere with me.

Before I married into the Eastern Palace, I secretly kept a man in Jiangnan behind the Crown Prince’s back.

He had broad shoulders, a narrow waist, and worked hard in bed.

His only flaw was that he bragged far too much.

He was plainly a rough country man, yet he spoke of imperial treasures with utter disdain.

He claimed the Cloud-Mist tea reserved for the imperial family tasted like swill and that he used it to feed his cattle.

Rubies worth a fortune, he said, had been nothing but marbles to him as a child.

Even when I decided to leave him, he kept boasting.

Kneeling at my feet with both arms wrapped around my legs, he begged, “Weiwei, don’t go. I’ll make you Crown Princess!”

I rolled my eyes at him. “I have no interest in being Crown Princess.”

He stared at me in shock and muttered, “Weiwei, how are you even better at bragging than I am?”

Later, I married into the Eastern Palace. I heard the Crown Prince had long cherished another woman in his heart.

Though he had lost his memory, he had remained chaste for her.

He told me coldly, “I do not love you. Expect nothing from me.”

I blinked at that familiar face. Even after he crouched down to wash my feet, he still could not make sense of it.

With an adorably baffled look, he asked, “What’s going on? How come I’m so good at taking care of you?”

I was the Noble Consort.

An assassin struck at a palace banquet, and the Empress took a sword for me.

The Emperor was stunned.

“I’m right here!

Why are you saving her?”

The Empress collapsed into my arms, blood spilling from the corner of her mouth.

“Her crying is unbearable.

I don’t want to deal with her nonsense.”

But I’d trained in martial arts since I was little.

I could look after myself.

The crying was just to win favor.

Well, this was a mess…

Maybe I should ask Dad’s five hundred thousand soldiers what to do?

I transmigrated into a Merfolk Princess who burst into tears at the drop of a hat.

The System wanted me to bully the brooding villain before his Dragon Transformation.

I swam up to him and, trembling all over, slapped his face with my fishtail.

“B-bas… bastard.”

The System lectured me, “Own it! Put your back into it!”

Later, the villain completed his Dragon Transformation and became the Lord of the Four Seas.

He pinned my fishtail beneath the dragon claw of his lower body, his voice hoarse.

“Not enough. Again.”

On the first day after I died, my boyfriend brought his first love back home.

They kissed passionately on the sofa I bought, acting as if no one else were there. They ate the celery dumplings I had made by hand and played with the gaming console I had given him.

One day, his first love asked curiously, “Where’s An’an?”

My boyfriend’s voice was calm. “We had a fight a few days ago. She applied for a business trip with her company.”

Oh, he still doesn’t know that I’m dead.

At my grand wedding to my Boyfriend, a stranger pushed open the door and walked in elegantly.

Who is he? What does he want? Is he here to bless me, or to destroy me?

When the man smiled, raised his hand, and lightly pushed me off the rooftop, I finally remembered who he was.

After fate destroyed me once more, it granted me the chance of Rebirth.

Since then I have decided: I will never bow my head or admit defeat. Even if I fall into Avici Hell, I will stop at nothing.

I ended up sleeping with the deaf-mute college boy my husband and I had been sponsoring.

While my husband brought his secretary home and took her to bed, I was in the next room, tangled up endlessly with the boy he had sponsored.

He bit his lip, trying to hold back, his face flushed, his eyes hazy.

He typed on his phone and played it aloud through text-to-speech: “Stop! Please don’t touch me there!”

Neither of us expected the volume to be so loud that my husband in the next room heard it.

In our seventh year together, Liang Qiezhao was getting married into another family for business reasons.

The night we broke up, we were unusually calm. “I’ll move out as soon as possible,” I said.

“There’s no need for that.” The man sat hunched by the window, slowly and methodically clipping a cigar as he gave his instructions. “I’m transferring the title of this apartment to you. It’s closer to your office.” “Your old car is getting on in years and should be replaced. I’ve also left some money in your primary account.” “As for the future… if you run into any trouble and it’s inconvenient to contact me, you can call Secretary Qin.”

He spent a long time clipping that cigar. The cut was perfectly smooth, yet he kept his eyes down, inspecting it repeatedly. He didn’t light it, nor did he look up for a long time.

Behind him, clean, even snowflakes were drifting down. I suddenly remembered Christmas Eve that year. Regent Street was bustling with people under the Angel Lights, snow falling all around us.

Twenty-seven-year-old Liang Qiezhao had held my hand tightly. He held on until our palms were damp. And even then, he couldn’t bear to let go.