Slice of Life

Five years ago, I left Qi Tan in a fit of pique.

Later, after he won the Best Actor award, he stood at the Hundred Stars Awards Ceremony holding my photograph, pleading for help to find me. “My lover has been missing for a month,” he said. “Please, help me find her.”

But the news of my gruesome death had already broken countless times back in 2018. Qi Tan, however, had suffered a trauma-induced bout of amnesia, forgetting everything that happened after I died.

On the day his manager announced that Qi Tan was retiring from the industry indefinitely, the news of his suicide exploded across the headlines.

Song Qi drew a dare: check his phone.

Of everyone in his contacts, who had he told “I love you” the most?

The class beauty: three times.

Me: 972 times.

The jeering around us died at once.

The class beauty burst into tears.

In front of everyone, Song Qi deleted my contact information, then smiled as he coaxed her.

“That’s worth crying over?”

“You know I only dated her for three months to keep up an act.”

“Nothing I said to her was real.”

Those nine hundred-odd declarations had all come from one drunken night.

Song Qi had crouched by the roadside, impossible for anyone to pull away, his head bowed as he sent me the same three words over and over.

“Once I send you ‘I love you’ 999 times, the bet is off.”

“Then we’ll be together for real, okay?”

It was the fifth year of our engagement, and Meng Cijun still refused to marry me.

The first time he turned me down, he said the King was placing great importance on him, so how could he indulge in the trivialities of love?

That made sense, so I nodded and waited another two years.

The second time he turned me down, he said that since the King had yet to choose a Queen, how could a mere subject like him marry first?

That made me angry. I felt the King was being completely unreasonable-I had waited so long that I was practically an old maid, yet he still wouldn’t allow Meng Cijun to marry me?

Meng Cijun and I had a fight. In a fit of pique, I left home, only to rescue a palace official who was trying to end his life by the river.

One of the girls selected for the draft had run away, and Wang Shiguan was so distressed he was ready to jump into the water.

“If I enter the palace, will I be able to see the King?”

Wang Shiguan looked at my hair, which was not yet pinned up in the style of a married woman, and my youthful face. He nodded with delight.

“Of course! If you find favor, you’ll see the King every single night!”

“Alright then,” I said, nodding as I gathered my skirts and stepped into the carriage.

Once I saw that King, I intended to ask him exactly why he wouldn’t let Meng Cijun marry me.

“Miss, if you leave, how am I supposed to explain this to Master Meng?” Xiao Tao asked, panicked.

I thought about it for a moment, then pulled back the curtain and waved a hand.

“Just tell Meng Cijun that Ah Wu is still mad at him and won’t be coming home for dinner tonight!”

My son was being pestered by another boy.

The teacher called and asked me to come to the school.

When I arrived, he shouted at me for the first time. “Mom, what’s wrong with me liking boys?”

I looked at him, feeling neither anger nor resentment.

I crouched down and asked him in a low voice, “Then how can you be sure that you like boys?”

I transmigrated into the villainess’s… apple.

That’s right, the Poison Apple from Snow White’s stepmother.

On the very first day after transmigrating, I cried because I was so ugly.

Damn it, half red and half green.

Maybe because I was crying too loudly, the Magic Mirror next door cautiously poked me.

“Um… actually, I think you’re the most… special… apple in this world.”

I paused, then glanced at his slightly reddened mirror surface.

“…Thanks, Comfort Hero.”

This was the seventeenth time I’d run into my roommate Cheng Yuming’s girlfriend on my way downstairs.

As was her habit, she pulled a plump orange from her bag and offered it to me, her eyes curving into a gentle, sweet smile.

I didn’t take it. I simply called her name. “Jiang Tingyu.”

“Yes?”

“Try a different fruit,” I said, my voice flat. “Oranges cause too much internal heat.”

In the dead of night, only after I let out a satisfied sigh did Wei Che gently roll off me.

He had been putting in so much effort lately that I figured he was probably about to leave me.

With a faint sigh, I turned over and went to sleep.

After all, everyone knew it.

I was the most useless kind of lovesick fool.

When the sky wanted to rain and a man wanted to leave, what could I possibly do about it?

Beg him bitterly? Threaten suicide and make a scene?

That was what a real lovesick fool would do.

But I was a fake.

A long time ago, I had already understood one simple truth-

Everyone despised a lovesick fool.

Pretending to be one, however, was the advanced strategy.

In my previous life, as my Imperial Younger Brother and I were being hacked into mincemeat by a flurry of blades, the Imperial Son-in-Law stood outside the bamboo grove, cold and detached, as if he were a mere bystander.

In this life, I looked at the handsome gigolo kneeling before me-the same man who had once died while shielding me from a blade-and I couldn’t help but smile.

“You’ll do.”

From a very young age, I knew I was a Villainess Supporting Character.

I knew because of a strange palace maid by my side named Sui’an. Sometimes, she would stare blankly at the top of my head as if there were words written there.

Later, after spending enough time with her, I managed to piece together the truth from countless minor details: There really were words floating above my head, and those words were: Villainess Supporting Character.

I lost my mother at seven and my father at ten, leaving me with only Grandma to depend on.

Grandma made a living sewing and doing laundry for others, while I spent my summers farming and my winters heading into the mountains.

We managed to scrape by.

When I was fourteen, I had a dream.

In that dream, I was a princess.

After being brought into the palace, I engaged in a life-and-death struggle against the Impostor Princess.

In the end, we were both killed by the transmigrator, becoming nothing more than stepping stones on her path to power.