Slice of Life

On the third day after being diagnosed with Stomach Cancer, I chose a grave for myself.

They say the feng shui is especially good.

It’s supposed to bless me so that in my next life, I won’t be the real daughter everyone despises.

No one will steal my parents, my brother, or everything else from me.

No longer… unloved.

I burned my photos and clothes, erased every trace of my existence.

Then I slit my wrists, lay down in the bathtub, and waited peacefully for death.

But then the Cemetery Center suddenly called me:

“Miss Lu, we’re terribly sorry.”

“Two Agents accidentally sold the same plot.”

“This grave was also sold to another gentleman.”

“Would you… mind moving your grave?”

In the third year of my marriage to my childhood sweetheart,

I happened to stumble across an old post he’d written.

In it, he talked about being forced to part from the person he truly loved, and how he had “no choice” but to marry the girl-next-door childhood friend.

And I just so happened to be that childhood friend in his story.

In his tragic little romance, I was the obstacle standing between the male and female leads.

My boyfriend’s manipulative junior had tried to steal him away from me one too many times. Finally, I reached my breaking point and gave him a piece of advice.

My boyfriend replied, “Got it.” The next day. The junior said, “Good morning, Senior! What a coincidence, seeing you here again.”

My boyfriend replied, “Good morning. I’m gay.” The junior: “?”

The day I found out I had cancer.

He Wei frowned and said coldly to me, “Do you think anyone would be sad if you died? No one would feel bad about it.”

I said, “Whatever.”

Then I sincerely wished him, “I hope you’ll do as you say.”

After all, the year my brother died saving me, everyone looked at me and said:

“Why wasn’t it you who died?”

Later, I stood on the rooftop of the abandoned building where my brother passed away and jumped off.

But He Wei, why were you crying?

I tried to persuade my best friend to break up eight hundred times, but in the end, I attended her wedding and drank her wedding wine.

On the wedding day, I sat at the main table with the guy’s strategist, both of us checking our phones and comparing notes.

We realized that every time the couple threatened to break up, it was always the two of us who got dragged into it.

Our chat histories were eerily similar.

[We broke up. This time it’s for real.]

[But what about him/her? What should I do?]

Guy’s strategist: [Maybe you should change jobs. You’d make a great clown in a circus.]

Me: [Pay me some compensation.]

Because he was poor, Zhou Jinyan never brought up the subject of marriage.

That was until the day I saw him casually open a bottle of wine that cost as much as my entire annual salary.

It turned out that being born into royalty and living a life of luxury was the true Zhou Jinyan.

His friend asked, “Aren’t you tired of playing the pauper after five years? When do you plan to come clean with her?”

Zhou Jinyan flicked his eyelids open with nonchalance. “On the day of the engagement, I suppose.”

I didn’t get hysterical. On the day of his engagement, I boarded a plane and crossed the ocean.

I later heard that on the day of his engagement,

He suddenly had a change of heart midway, driving back to an old rental apartment.

When he saw that the place was empty and I was gone, he completely lost his mind.

By the time the Female Lead appeared, I was already pregnant with Zhou Shiyu’s child.

I failed to fight against fate. He once risked everything to break off his engagement with her for my sake, but eventually, he grew to hate me to his very core. Even a single glance at me filled him with nothing but disgust.

Finally, I grew tired of it all. I let go of our tangled emotions and even gave up on the child.

It wasn’t until an evening six years later.

A young child knocked on my door.

With a stern, stoic expression that mimicked an adult, he said, “My dad doesn’t want me anymore. Can I stay with you?”

My sister was beautiful and brilliant, always effortlessly winning people over.

Compared to her, my plain self was like a timid little mouse.

My parents used to say, “How can you even compare yourself to your sister?”

My childhood friend said, “Jiajia and you don’t look like sisters.”

I asked him, “Then what do we look like instead?”

Sniffling, he replied:

“Like a princess and her maid.”

That was until I met Cen Yi.

My parents were clinging to my sister, introducing her to his family and boasting about how exceptional their daughter was.

I stood off to the side, stealing glances at the cookies on the table.

But he bypassed everyone else and pulled me into a tight embrace.

“Mine,”

he said.

In the first year after my divorce, I announced my retirement from the scene.

Everyone said I had gone mad after being abandoned by Lu Xiao.

Until one day, a Wish Blogger’s video shot to the top of the trending searches.

My video was split into seven episodes.

Those were the last fragments of my life, flashing by like a carousel.

The title of the first episode was:

[By the time you see this video, I will already be gone.]

I am the most pathetic Marchioness in all of the capital.

Marquis Jing’an married me for one reason only: I was honest, kind, and easy to manipulate.

Before our wedding, he told me quite bluntly, without a shred of hesitation:

“As long as you treat my beloved Concubine Bai well once you enter my home, and as long as you don’t get jealous or pick fights with her, I will grant you the dignity and status you deserve.”

For the sake of my family, I had no choice but to marry him.

From then on, whenever Concubine Bai sat, I stood.

When Concubine Bai ate meat, I drank the broth.

Whenever rewards arrived from the palace, Concubine Bai got first pick; I only received whatever she didn’t want.

I thought Marquis Jing’an was satisfied with my performance over the years, yet when I prepared to leave, he blocked the doorway, his hands trembling.

“You are my wife! You aren’t going anywhere!”

Me: “?”

I’m literally making room for your sweetheart!