Slice of Life

I did something terrible back in middle school.

At the time, I didn’t think much of it. I was even relieved that no one ever found out.

But once I learned the full truth, the despair made me want to die.

A person as vile and shameless as me is surely bound for Hell.

On the day of Zhou Huaian’s engagement, a reporter held up a microphone and asked for my thoughts.

He was a man of high standing, a true blue-blood from the Imperial Wall Base in Jingcheng.

During the eight years I spent with him, no one ever approved of us.

Every time his mother saw me, she referred to me as nothing more than an “actress.”

His circle of friends would advise him behind my back, “She’s just a minor star. It’s fine to keep her around for fun.”

And Zhou Huaian? He would toy with his lighter and joke, “What are you worried about? It’s not like I’d ever marry her.”

I looked into the camera and said slowly, “Though we aren’t close, this is good news. I wish him a happy engagement.”

The video went viral online. Zhou Huaian boarded his private jet and flew through the night from Jingcheng to Shanghai.

On her seventieth birthday, Song Xiaotao found an unconscious young man in her vegetable patch. Judging by her years of experience cracking melon seeds and shooting the breeze at the village entrance, this fellow was clearly trouble. Yet, she brought him home anyway. Song Xiaotao had seen off her last living relative ten years ago. Even if he brought a calamity that wiped out her entire household, she was the only one left to go. When the young man came to and saw Song Xiaotao’s wizened face, his vision swam, and he nearly blacked out again. Heavenly Bodhisattva, why was his Love Tribulation partner an old woman?!

In the third year of my secret crush on Zhou Jinghe, we got married. A year later, at a ski resort, his close friend and I both found ourselves in danger at the same time. Zhou Jinghe rushed over, shielding that female friend as they tumbled to the ground. As I fell onto the snow, I suddenly felt that everything was utterly meaningless. And when something is meaningless, it should simply be thrown away.

On the day my mother divorced, she held me in her arms and tore down the notice from the Marquis Mansion.

The Marquis Mansion was looking for a successor wife, which also meant finding a stepmother for the Young Heir.

A crowd of young women in the prime of their youth, as beautiful as flowers, stood at the mansion gates. They were waiting for the Old Madam to look them over, hoping to enter the household and live a life of comfort.

My brother and father mocked Mother for her wishful thinking.

“Mother has no shame, trying to remarry at her age while dragging along a burden like my sister.”

“Sang Zhi, do you think the Marquis Mansion taking a wife is like buying someone at the village entrance? Do you think being a successor wife or a stepmother is easy?”

I knew I was the one holding Mother back from remarrying, and I sobbed until I was out of breath. “M-Mother, Tao Tao is a burden. Don’t worry about Tao Tao anymore.”

Mother knelt down, gently wiping away my tears as she comforted me earnestly. “Tao Tao isn’t a burden. Tao Tao is Mother’s most precious treasure.”

Matron Deng, the steward of the Marquis Mansion, held the register and lifted her chin arrogantly. Her sharp eyes coldly swept over the group of anxious, quiet young women. Suddenly, she spotted Mother, who was wiping my tears and speaking in a soft, gentle voice. She gave a nearly imperceptible nod.

“Write her name down as well. She actually looks like a mother.”

My boyfriend was acting strange while we were getting intimate.

I was wearing the lace lingerie he’d been looking forward to for so long, yet he wouldn’t even touch me.

The lights were off as I leaned in and breathed into his ear, “I have a surprise for you. Do you like it?”

His breathing became ragged.

I felt a surge of joy, thinking it was finally working.

I hooked my arms around his neck and kissed him even more fervently.

But just then, my boyfriend’s voice suddenly drifted in from outside the door.

“The lights are all on, so why is no one here?”

I froze instantly, my blood rushing to my head.

If Jiang Chen was outside, then who was the man I was holding right now?

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.

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?”

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 five-year unrequited love has come to an end.

It ended because Shen Chen’s “white moonlight,” Su Yue, has returned.

Half a month ago, on the first day of autumn, I made some stewed pear soup to bring to Shen Chen.

Shen Chen smokes constantly and never listens when I tell him to stop, so I’ve made it a habit to prepare stewed pears with fritillary bulbs for him whenever the seasons change.

When I arrived, Shen Chen opened the door shirtless.

As the door swung wide, the air in the room smelled thick and suggestive. The scent of body wash clinging to him was the very one we had bought together.

I looked down and immediately spotted a pair of round-toed, mid-heel shoes. They were cute, yet they felt like an eyesore.

“Who is it?” a sweet, cloying female voice called out from the bedroom.

Shen Chen took the pear soup from my hands. His eyes were filled with guilt, but he prioritized his options in an instant.

“It’s just delivery.”