Slice of Life

The year I turned seventeen, my wealthy birth parents brought me home.

They hemmed and hawed before saying, “You also have a twin brother and a younger sister, but they…”

Judging by their attitude, I understood at once.

My brother and sister probably weren’t going to welcome me.

But in the next second, the door was pushed open, and a flamboyant figure strode in.

His hair was dyed a bright red, and he said with cheerful swagger, “So this is my little sis, huh? I dyed my hair red just to celebrate you coming home. Festive enough for you?”

Behind him followed a little girl with side-swept bangs, holding pomelo leaves, a peachwood sword, and yellow talismans.

“Sis, I got these from a master specially for you. They’ve even been consecrated. They’ll drive away all your bad luck!”

“…”

Every family has its own difficult story. Mine had two volumes.

I was never smart, but the neighbor’s son was a once-in-a-century genius.

I spent day after day hunched over my desk doing practice problems before I finally got into a Project 985 university. He skipped class and dated the prettiest girl in school, yet the top universities fought over him.

I practically lived in the library, studying from morning to night, only to miss out on a guaranteed graduate school spot by one rank. He flipped through his books right before the exam and easily took first place in the entire department.

Whenever my parents scolded me, they would twist my ear and say, “Look at Little Lin! You’re both human, so how are you so much stupider than him?”

…

I spent the first half of my life living in his shadow. The moment I graduated, I couldn’t wait to leave home and run away from it all.

For three whole years, no matter how hysterical my parents got over the phone, I never went back.

On New Year’s Eve of the fourth year, I was carrying shopping bags back to my rented apartment when I saw him at the door.

His thin frame leaned against the wall, and he asked softly,

“Why won’t you go home?”

I didn’t answer.

The light in his eyes dimmed. Then he said, “Come back. Your parents miss you so much… and so do I.”

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.

When Xie Yan was diagnosed with stomach cancer, I was abroad, clearing my head.

He was calling for the hundredth time when my secretary-a man standing six-foot-two-finally picked up the phone.

“Where are you? Who is that with you?” I heard his voice crack over the line, sounding like he was on the verge of a total breakdown.

I couldn’t help but let out a mocking sneer. “Didn’t we agree to stay out of each other’s business? Why are you acting like such a sore loser now?”

I was the concubine Madam forced on the General.

She was testing whether his heart had strayed.

He remained perfectly unmoved and ordered me to copy scriptures all night to prove his devotion.

And me? My hand ached. So did my heart.

The first time I stayed over at my boyfriend’s place, his ex-girlfriend suddenly burst into the bedroom in the middle of the night.

I could clearly feel his body stiffen. The room fell into a dead silence.

“Song Yuan,” she choked out, her voice so hoarse it was barely recognizable.

But he acted as if nothing was happening, pinning my wrist down and nonchalantly continuing to kiss me.

The tattoo on the back of Wei Yan’s neck was the initials of his ex-girlfriend’s name.

The only reason he had spared me a second glance in that vast sea of people was because my eyes and brows bore a striking resemblance to hers.

My husband is wonderful to me.

He is incredibly considerate and gentle in bed, too.

After several failed attempts to actually make him angry, I finally resorted to posting a plea for help online: [How can I get my husband to be a bit more aggressive?]

[Sweet talk is all well and good, but I really want to try dirty talk.]

[Angry sex? Never tried that either.]

There were plenty of helpful netizens, but unfortunately, their suggestions were underwhelming.

That was until the day I came home drunk after a class reunion.

The living room was shrouded in darkness.

In the fragmented Moonlight, my husband did something rare-he called me by my full name. “Lin Sui, come here and kneel.”

The day my fiancé came to break off our engagement, my mother was so excited that tears streamed down her face.

As it turned out, I was not her biological daughter.

She had adopted me only so I could take the calamity meant for her real daughter.

She said, “Now that the ordeal has been fulfilled, you ought to return to your own family.”

I packed my bundle. There was little I could take with me, which made for easy travel.

My birth mother was waiting by the back gate.

She had a booming voice and had come driving an ox cart-every inch an uncouth peasant woman who knew nothing of proper manners.

Because of her, everyone in the Marquis Manor looked down on me even more.

And yet, the one who would bring me back to the capital in splendor was precisely her.

Chapter 0

Pei Qian forgot me. All because, on the eve of our wedding, he got drunk, took a fall, and forgot he was supposed to take a bride. Was I to believe that, or not?

Naturally, I believed it with the utmost gratitude. Since he had forgotten me, my marriage to him could be written off in one stroke.

I packed up my money and dowry. Boling was no longer an option, so for the time being, I settled down in Hedong.

If my father had not died so early, I feared I never would have come anywhere near the gates of the Pei Family.

My father died after taking elixirs and running naked through the streets. Everyone praised him for being romantic and unrestrained-a true eminent gentleman!

He had only been a concubine-born son of a collateral branch of the Cui Clan, yet within a few days of his death, he had somehow become the pride of the Cui Clan.

For a time, the worth of my sisters and me rose with the tide. The great aristocratic families all came asking for our hands. Mother even forgot to fake her tears. Every day, she beamed with joy as she received one guest and sent off another.

This world had gone mad, and so had the people in it.

After much careful selection, Mother chose Pei Qian, the Second Young Master of the Pei Clan of Hedong, for me.

Everyone said he was elegant, graceful, wild, and unrestrained-the foremost romantic figure of Great Wei.

At that, I thought of my father, sprinting along with all that pale flesh jiggling in the wind.

I despised these so-called eminent gentlemen from the bottom of my heart.

As it turned out, he would rather change his name and identity than marry me. Excellent. That suited me perfectly.