Short Story

During our sophomore year of high school, the underprivileged student my childhood friend had been sponsoring transferred to our school.

She was plain, rustic, and awkward, yet her eyes carefully concealed a crush on Xiao Yunzhou.

Everyone at school mocked her for her wishful thinking, and they warned me with heavy hearts:

“Huaishan, you’d better be careful. Having Wei Xiaoyun stick to Xiao Yunzhou is like getting a piece of gum caught in your hair-you’ll never get rid of her.”

“Having someone like that hovering around your childhood friend every day is honestly disgusting.”

“Exactly, Huaishan. It’s not the thief you should fear, but the one who’s always watching. Sooner or later, you’re going to suffer at Wei Xiaoyun’s hands.”

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!”

When I married Pei Miao, everyone praised our union as a match made in heaven. Our honeymoon bliss lasted less than three months before I discovered he had a soulmate. Pei Miao cherished and adored her, even setting up a private residence for her outside our home. When I confronted him, he coldly rebuked me: jealousy was unbecoming of a virtuous wife. So I learned to be magnanimous, until I too stepped beyond the boundaries of marriage and forced him to taste the same pain he had given me.

I spent ten years in the imperial harem testing rouge, and not once did I fail to detect a single trace of poison.

That was until Consort Hua dropped dead after applying the “Drunken Beauty Red” I had personally verified.

It was then that a newly arrived talented lady told me: what truly kills isn’t the rouge, but the intent to murder.

When Wei Zhao married me as his lawful wife, all of Shangjing City laughed.

The once-proud Eldest Young Master of the Wei Family had fallen so low that even a phoenix in decline was no better than a chicken.

In the end, he had only managed to marry a maid who tended the fires and cooked the meals.

Later, when Wei Zhao achieved fame and success, noble ladies from aristocratic families who wished to marry him were too many to count.

So I made an appointment with a well-known matchmaker in the capital, intending to take in two honored concubines for him.

But just as I was about to leave, Wei Zhao, who should have been handling affairs in Yangzhou, blocked me at the front gate.

Travel-worn and furious, he was trembling all over. “Try stepping out of this gate today. I dare you.”

A friend of mine worked at the Egyptian Mummy Museum.

She said something had happened there and asked me to come take a look.

Out of curiosity, I unwrapped the mummy’s bandages.

Beneath layer after layer of linen was my friend’s face. “Lu Lingzhu-“

When I was born, the stars showed an omen so strange that the Imperial Observatory calculated until dawn broke at the edge of the sky, yet still could not reach a conclusion.

The National Preceptor, who had lived for more than two hundred years, descended from Tianxuan Pavilion and left behind a single prophecy for me.

“This child will kill the current emperor.”

My father dropped to his knees in terror, kowtowing to his imperial father and begging him to spare my life.

The emperor held me in his arms-his newborn granddaughter, bound to him by blood-and was silent for a very long time.

In the sixteenth year of Shunhe, my imperial grandfather was forty-nine years old, and learned his fate ahead of time.

The Battle for First Seat.

Just as the match between my junior sister and me was about to be decided, my life-bound sword suddenly turned its edge on me and gravely wounded me.

The sword spirit said, “Your swordplay is too fierce. You would have hurt her. I didn’t want you to bear the infamy of injuring a fellow disciple, so I had to act as the situation demanded. I’m sorry.”

They all say swords have souls, and that they are loyal to the masters they acknowledge.

But I had rescued the Muyuan Sword from the abyss, then carried it to fame throughout the world. For decades, we were inseparable.

Even so, he remained proud and untamed. Everyone advised me.

A bond with a divine sword could not be forced. What was not mine would never belong to me, no matter how tightly I held on.

In that case, I might as well give the Muyuan Sword to my junior sister.

I thought they were right. After all, in all these years of using the Muyuan Sword, I had never been able to draw out even seventy percent of my strength.

It was time to choose a new sword.

Dad didn’t like me. I knew this from a very young age.

Because I wasn’t the boy he wanted.

To have a son, he sent me away, saying, “Sons are the roots, and I don’t lack daughters.”

Never having been loved, I was upset about it for a long time.

But when it came time for him to need support in his old age, he said, “Sons are unreliable; daughters are the most caring.”

“Second Sister, when Dad gets old, it’ll all be up to you!”

My Mother was a courtesan, earning money with her own flesh and blood to support my father’s studies and imperial examinations.

Five years later, my father succeeded and was granted marriage to a princess by the Emperor.

Yet, in the Golden Throne Hall, he refused the marriage at the risk of his own life, and with great fanfare, married my Mother with ten miles of red bridal procession.

The princess was displeased.

Three days later, Mother was found abused and disheveled, dying at the entrance of an alley.

Half a year later, the princess finally married my father as she wished.

She did not know that this was the beginning of her misfortune.