Slice of Life

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!

On the final day of the divorce cooling-off period, I waited for Yuan Shiyu at the Civil Affairs Bureau for three hours.

The person who eventually arrived wasn’t him; instead, it was a hospital representative delivering a critical condition notice and a last letter.

Everyone thought he had finally agreed to let me go. Only I knew that the first sentence of that letter read: Wantang, I’m sorry, I really can’t make it this time.

Li Xiuyi was my fiancé.

Yet, at his own birthday banquet, he announced that he was marrying another woman.

Everyone turned to look at me, their eyes filled with uncertainty.

Amidst the awkward atmosphere, I was the first to start clapping.

I even presented a ring as a blessing.

“I wish you a long and happy marriage, and may you be blessed with a child soon.”

I have been selling wontons in the capital for twenty years.

Prince Cheng’s Heir was galloping through the city when his horse’s hooves trampled my wonton stall. He even struck me with his whip.

The heir was incredibly arrogant. “You’re just a lowly commoner,” he sneered. “Even if I don’t pay you a copper, what can you possibly do about it?”

The next day, I went to the Capital Prefecture to beat the drum and cry for justice.

The Six Ministers of the Six Boards arrived in person, and the Left and Right Censors were present to observe the proceedings.

Marquis Ningzhao hauled the heir into the hall. “I’ve caught the little brat!”

The Emperor, seated upon the main throne, declared, “Beat this boy until even his father won’t recognize him.”

My mother-in-law’s secret identity has been exposed.

I accidentally discovered that she is actually a legendary author of Stepmother Literature.

And my husband is her stepson.

On the very first day I hung up my sign offering a “Protection Charm for a Happy Marriage,” the handsome guy from next door came to make a wish: he wanted to be a normal person.

That night, he collapsed beneath the Torii of my home, drenched in blood that shimmered like liquid gold.

My small shrine, which hadn’t seen a single offering in three months, had suddenly picked up a deity on the verge of being reclaimed by the heavens.

My sister has hated me for twenty years. She once told me to my face that it would be better if I just died.

So, just as she wished, I was diagnosed with stomach cancer.

I was known for being a good girl. During our five years together, no matter how Liang Yansheng played around behind my back, I obediently endured it all.

Until that day, when I found a pair of stockings and a set of lingerie in his hotel suite that didn’t belong to me.

He didn’t show a hint of guilt at being caught. Instead, he just gave a lazy smile. “Be a good girl and go check out of the room for me.”

His friends were all placing bets on how long I could hold out this time.

Liang Yansheng rested his chin on his hand, sounding indifferent. “She’s such a good girl. She’ll settle down in a couple of days.”

He expected me to be just like before, begging him with puppy-dog eyes not to leave.

What Liang Yansheng didn’t know was that once a good girl like me reaches marriageable age, we always listen to our parents.

And so, while he was riding high on his own arrogance, I gathered my courage and asked the handsome man at my blind date: “If the child takes my last name, can you accept that?”

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: “?”

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.”