Slice of Life

On my first day in the palace, I told my own fortune.

A west wind slipped along the foot of the wall, lifting three dead leaves.

Two fell into the gutter; one landed on my shoe.

I studied that leaf for a long while and reached a conclusion: Don’t compete.

Stay alive.

Excellent.

I decided on the spot that, from that day forward, I would be a layabout with principles.

Before I even married my husband, I already owed his family a life.

His elder brother had died in an accident while working away from home to save up for my husband’s wedding.

On our wedding night, my husband dragged me to his brother’s grave and forced me to kowtow.

“If it weren’t for you, my brother wouldn’t be dead.”

“You’ll spend the rest of your life paying for it.”

After that, I worked in the fields all day and waited on his entire family at night.

Whenever he drank, he beat me.

I fled to my mother’s house.

She held me and cried all night.

The next morning, she pushed me toward the door.

“Go back.”

“Your sister-in-law doesn’t want you staying here.

There’s nothing I can do.”

“Just bear it.

Once he’s old and too weak to hit you, your life will be over anyway.”

But I didn’t want to bear it anymore.

I was drunk.

Out of habit, I sent my ex-husband my location.

“Come get me.”

He replied at once.

“Remember?

We’re divorced.”

“You were the one who asked for it.”

“What, you still want to order me around like a dog?”

I was about to reply when comments started scrolling past: “Is the supporting girl nuts?

Why interrupt the male lead’s date now?”

“If it weren’t for her, he would’ve kissed the female lead already!”

“AAAAAAH, I HATE HER!”

I hurriedly texted him, “Wrong person.”

Ten minutes later, he arrived.

With a woman I’d never seen before.

On the day I ascended the throne, I discovered that I could hear objects speak.

The Dragon Throne was a chatterbox, and a scalding bowl from the imperial kitchens screamed in my hands.

When I dropped it, only I could hear the shattered pieces lamenting their fate.

I won my husband, Yang Dongye, with thirty wontons.

His family had fallen on hard times, and I was a notorious old maid: plain, fiery-tempered, and perfectly capable of keeping a household standing.

He wanted someone capable; I wanted someone young and handsome.

After several happy years, his family was exonerated—and his former fiancée came running from the capital.

I came second in the imperial examinations.

The first-place winner was the sort of swaggering hero who conquered everything in his path.

He spent his days drinking, writing poetry, and visiting brothels.

The third-place winner was the hero of an erotic novel.

He spent his days sleeping with princes and generals.

Once I became a censor, I worked overtime every day impeaching the two of them, until my face turned sallow and my eyes were ringed with blue.

Then I checked my pay at the end of the month: ten taels of silver.

Furious, I threw down my memorials, picked up my brush, and started a side business: Episode One: “The Third-Place Scholar Charms in Women’s Clothes; the First-Place Scholar Spends a Fortune for His Smile.”

Ji Yan’s first love hit me with her car.

When she called him, he rushed to the hospital.

His expression faltered slightly when he saw me.

After he and his first love accompanied me through the examinations, he asked how much the medical bills were.

For three years, we had kept our marriage a secret.

Even when I miscarried, he had never come to see me in the hospital.

This was the first time he had ever accompanied me to a medical appointment.

When the nurse told me to have my husband look after me, I switched off my phone.

That would not really work.

We were in the process of getting divorced.

I’ve always been absurdly confident.

When the system told me to win over the male lead, I said it would be a piece of cake.

He rejected me, begged me to torment someone else, and claimed he wasn’t good enough for me.

Clearly, he needed a guiding partner he couldn’t chase away.

I succeeded—until the system returned and announced his affection score was zero.

Apparently, I’d fallen for an extra with the male lead’s exact same name.

I’m obsessed with my big sister.

I’ve spent twenty years as her devoted servant, practically born into the job.

Nobody knows how to take care of her better than I do, and I’m immensely proud of that.

So when I learned she was going to marry Jiang Xubai, I promptly made a move on his little brother, Jiang Muye.

Dad exploded on the spot and threatened to break my legs.

I protested, “If my sister can marry into their family, why can’t I?”

Dad answered with a sweeping slap: “Because your sister is a girl, and you—are a boy!”

“Can I touch your tail?”

Twenty years ago, I used that same pitiful act to lure a snow fox into a cage and sell him to people from a zoo.

Twenty years later, I was on a blind date when a beautiful silver-haired youth sat down beside me, gently linked his arm through mine, and pouted.

“Honey, why are you going on blind dates behind my back?

Don’t you like me anymore?”

A cup of coffee hit me in the face.

The woman opposite knocked her chair aside and stormed out.

“Gay men who trick women into marrying them can go to hell!”

I wiped the coffee off my face and turned to him.

“Who are you?”

The silver-haired youth had already resumed his icy aloofness.

He sneered.

“The Fox King.

Here for revenge.”