Short Story

On the day Song Cheng and I got married, his ex-girlfriend showed up in a wedding dress to steal him away.

“Song Cheng, I’m only going to be this brave once in my life. Are you coming with me or not?”

I looked at the panic all over Song Cheng’s face and was just about to marvel that this kind of ridiculous soap-opera scene was actually happening to me.

Then Song Cheng grabbed the emcee’s microphone and shouted, “Who the hell are you? Did you wander onto the wrong set?

“Mess with my wedding again, and I’ll punch your left eye into your right socket.”

Chapter 0

I am a Noble Consort, and I can hear the Emperor’s thoughts.

In my previous life, I followed those thoughts and fulfilled his every wish.

I thought I would climb the ranks and maybe even snag the seat of Empress for myself.

In the end, the Emperor turned out to be the worst kind of bastard.

He rejected every kindness offered to him and insisted on courting disaster, falling in love with a Fisher Girl outside the palace.

Against all opposition, he made her Empress.

And because he feared I would harm his Empress, he had me sentenced to death in advance.

After being reborn and hearing the Emperor’s thoughts again,

I leaked the information to my sworn enemies.

[His Majesty breaks out in hives whenever he eats lychees.]

[His Majesty plans to punish your family.]

[His Majesty cannot stop praising your younger sister.]

Consort An and Consort Shu were stunned.

“Sister, what should I do? Please, Sister, hurry and think of something!”

The day the bandages came off my eyes, he never showed up; instead, I received a message from his childhood sweetheart.

“You may have saved him, but don’t try to hold it over his head. He doesn’t have time to pick you up, so make your own way home.”

I called him, only for him to hang up the instant his phone rang.

When I finally saw him again three days later, he demanded to know why I had sent such a message to slander his precious childhood sweetheart.

I watched the aura of fortune above his head hemorrhage away.

Suddenly, accepting that I was the heroine of a melodramatic angst novel did not seem so difficult after all.

After I died, the System gave me two options:

1. Come back to life.

2. Bring my best friend’s true love back to life.

I didn’t want to be the True Young Master everyone hated anymore. I didn’t want to keep trying to please my whole family and wronging myself in the process.

So I chose option 2.

A flash of white light passed before my eyes, and I woke up in a hospital.

The person waiting for me wasn’t my family.

It was my best friend, Lu Tinglan.

His eyes were red-rimmed as he climbed onto my bed.

The Xie Family came to my door to break off the engagement, offering me two options.

Either the First Young Master and I dissolved our betrothal, and from then on, he and I would marry whomever we pleased, with nothing more to do with each other.

Or we changed the match: I would marry the Second Young Master instead, and I would still become a daughter-in-law of the Xie Family.

The First Young Master was a dragon among men. He had rendered great service while away on official business, and once he returned to the capital, he would be able to enter the Hanlin Academy. As an orphaned girl, my status was no longer worthy of him.

The Second Young Master was a concubine-born son of the family. Though he could not compare to his elder brother, he was still quite learned.

They were certain I would agree to the change. After all, no one could withstand the pressure of gossip and rumor-not to mention the Second Young Master was exceptionally handsome.

But what did any of that have to do with me?

I only asked calmly, “Is this the First Young Master’s wish?”

“It is! The First Young Master said that times change and circumstances shift. A clever young lady like you will surely know how to judge the situation.”

Later, I entered the palace and became a female official.

The Xie Family was about to be punished for their crimes.

The First Young Master Xie knelt outside the palace gates, begging me to pass a message inside.

My gaze fell on him without sorrow or joy, and I said mildly, “Young Master once told me to judge the situation. I have always kept that lesson close to heart and have never dared forget it.”

My father was a professor at a prestigious university, and my mother held a doctorate in literature.

But only my older sister inherited their brilliant genes.

As for me, all I could do was chant “Makka Pakka,” the bitter little gourd their family tree had produced.

When my parents divorced, my sister chose Dad.

“I don’t want a retarded little sister,” she said.

I turned to Mom. “Be happy, Mommy. Makka Pakka!”

Luckily, Mom took my advice: she happily quit her job and started a company.

Years later, Dad nearly drove my genius sister out of her mind.

And I, still Makka-Pakka-ing my way through life, became the daughter of a millionaire.

I suspect I’m an NPC in a horror novel.

And a feral NPC at that. The kind with no official position on the payroll.

Because I overheard a few official NPCs whispering among themselves, discussing how they should go easy on this batch of newbie players.

So this was a supernatural horror infinite-flow novel.

I rubbed my hands together in excitement. “Can I join you?”

The Instance Mini Boss rolled his eyes. “You’re too weak. You couldn’t even handle one of my han-”

Watching the Instance Mini Boss get slapped three miles away, I guiltily withdrew my hand. I hadn’t meant to send him that far. Turns out he really couldn’t take a hit.

I picked up the employee badge he’d dropped, hung it around my neck, and looked expectantly at the Instance Master. “I’m an official employee now, right?”

The Instance Master leaped away with a whoosh and answered timidly, “Yes.”

I also dashed off with a whoosh, then dragged back a three-meter-wide bowl. I knocked on the bowl, brimming with anticipation. “Boss, pay me! Hurry up and pay me! It’s already been five whole minutes since you last paid me!”

A bloody, brutal murder had shaken the city.

The prostitute Yuanyang was found dead and naked on her embroidered bed, her body slashed again and again, drenched in blood.

The authorities proved utterly useless at catching the killer. They could not find so much as a single suspect.

Just as rumors were flying everywhere, a young victim came to my stall.

With the only five copper coins she had, she begged me to find Yuanyang’s murderer.

Me: “?”

But I was only a fortune-teller.

For five years, I brought meals to the scholar next door.

When he passed the imperial examinations as Tanhua, he did not come back to marry me.

Others laughed at me for being foolish. Though it hurt, I still waved it off and pretended to be carefree.

Then, one year, Mother was beaten half to death by the principal wife. Clinging to what little old affection remained, I cast aside my dignity and went to beg him.

I begged him to find a way to invite Doctor Dong, the most renowned physician in Shangjing City, to come take a look at her, and to help me obtain some good medicine for my mother.

The scholar advised me with a troubled expression, “It isn’t that I won’t help you. It’s just… how could I possibly interfere in your father’s inner household? I know Mother has been wronged, but as a concubine, how could she never suffer a beating?”

Years later, the scholar was implicated by others and demoted, and came to beg at my door.

By then, I was already Lady Jun, a First-rank Imperial Mandate Lady, not someone ordinary people could meet at will.

People of the time had a saying: Better to offend Lord Zichen than to offend Lady Jun.

I idly picked at the gold foil on my nail guard and said slowly,

“It isn’t that I won’t help you. It’s just… I am only a woman of the inner quarters. How could I possibly have any say in affairs of court? Besides, as an official and a subject, how could one never suffer a grievance?”

Twenty years ago, my dad got drunk and let it slip to someone that he had made two hundred thousand yuan in a year raising chickens. Before long, every chicken on his farm had been poisoned to death.

Later, my dad bought an eighty-million-yuan apartment in Beijing outright, and he didn’t tell a single person back home. Even my grandparents had no idea.

Now my dad has long since become the CEO of a corporation worth several hundred million. Every time we go home for New Year’s or the holidays, he makes my mom and me help him pretend we’re poor.

At the New Year’s Eve dinner, I sat there bundled in a thick cotton coat and cotton slippers, both hands shoved into my pockets.

And so began my proud inheritance of my father’s fine tradition: talking absolute nonsense.

Who would’ve thought I’d overdo the act and run into someone I knew?

Me: “President Gu?”

Him: “President Shen?”

Then we both clapped a hand over each other’s mouths.