Supernatural

I woke up as the Queen Mother of Heaven.

The moment I arrived, I caught the Seventh Fairy sneaking down to the mortal world.

Naturally, I gave her my blessing.

I even thoughtfully made her a mortal body, took away her magical powers, and escorted her down myself, so she and Dong Yong could be a mortal couple in every sense.

After she left, I gathered every fairy in Heaven to watch a livestream of her life on earth.

Peaches of Immortality and celestial wine were unlimited; daily reflection papers had a three-thousand-character minimum.

Afterward, not a single young fairy yearned for mortal life again.

My first love, a man who had clawed his way out of poverty, murdered me.

Then I was reborn inside his beautiful, wealthy wife’s womb.

If nothing went wrong, once I survived the pregnancy, that bastard would lift me tenderly into his arms and say, “Look at this little darling.

Daddy’s sweetheart from a past life.”

That’s right.

I was your sweetheart.

And I’ve come to collect.

I was a flower Shen Yan had planted.

He tended me lovingly for years, and I finally took human form the year he killed the emperor and claimed the throne.

One night, I slipped into his bedchamber and lay down beside him, only for him to seize me by the throat.

I looked at him pitifully.

“But this is how I always used to sleep.”

My husband was a notorious invalid.

We had been married for three years, and he had never once touched me intimately.

Gentle and gracious, he would often drag his frail body to the couch to read and compose poetry.

Watching him look so fragile that he might die at any moment left me utterly exasperated.

I couldn’t help demanding of the system, “Seriously?

Look at him.

He’s practically at death’s door.

“And you’re telling me he’ll become a monster everyone wants dead?”

“Fine.

I’ll marry him.”

Everyone around me breathed a sigh of relief when I said it.

My elder sister most of all.

She didn’t want to marry him.

I didn’t mind.

Mostly because the Crown Prince was offering far too much to refuse.

Besides, he’d treated me rather well in my previous life.

Now that I’d been reborn, of course I would clear the thorns from his path.

I wanted to make his journey to my side a little easier.

On the night before she joins her boyfriend’s startup, Wen Xiyue receives a call from herself twelve years in the future.

He will become a billionaire, but she will spend those years running his errands and surrendering her own ambitions.

Her future self has one urgent warning: take the developer job instead.

This time, Xiyue chooses her own career—and refuses to let the man who wants her talent steal her future.

My father is a black dragon.

My mother is a white dragon.

So my left half is black, and my right half is white.

In my spare time, I cover the left side of my face and cosplay as the White Wuchang, then cover the right side and cosplay as the Black Wuchang.

My parents will never have to worry about me finding a job again.

To break his betrothal to my elder sister and marry me, Lu Jin agreed to three conditions.

First, on her birthday every year, he must personally bring a bouquet of pomegranate blossoms to her residence.

Second, if we ever had a daughter, the child must bear her name.

He agreed to both.

As for the third, my sister said she would name it another day.

After we married, it did bother me that he went to her with flowers year after year.

But he was gentle with me, and we were so deeply in love that I could hardly bring myself to complain.

Besides, whenever I showed the least displeasure, he would say, “Once a promise is given, not ten thousand mountains can stand in its way,” and tell me not to ask again.

What truly stuck in my throat was the way he mentioned my sister every time he called our daughter’s name.

She did not live in our house, yet she was everywhere in it.

At last I could bear no more.

I wept and insisted on changing the child’s name.

Lu Jin merely watched me coldly.

“Have you finished making a scene in front of the child?”

He resented my suspicions and grew steadily more distant.

Then my sister sent word of her third condition: he was to help her divorce her husband and bring her home.

I promptly wrote a divorce agreement of my own.

Lu Jin took it with a weary sigh.

“She’s already given up so much.

What more do you want?”

“If she hadn’t stepped aside, I would never have married you.

Had I known it would come to this, she might as well have refused.”

I was reborn on the day Lu Jin came to ask for my hand.

He handed the betrothal token straight to my sister.

“The eldest Miss Xie alone holds my heart.

I wish to take her as my wife and remain true to her all my life.”

I breathed a sigh of relief.

Everyone in my family had sickly bones.

My eldest sister coughed three times for every three steps, spat blood every third day, and fainted every fifth.

My brother’s bones broke at a touch—one a month, seven or eight times a year.

I alone had a head of iron and a body of bronze.

I could ram a peach tree with my forehead to bring down the fruit.

The tree shook, the peaches fell, and I was perfectly fine.

When I was seven, an eminent monk passed by.

One look at me, and he blurted out: “Bronze skin over bone.

A demon born.”

I couldn’t be bothered to listen.

I charged him headfirst and knocked him flat on his back.

It took him ages to wake up.

When he did, he laughed instead of getting angry and asked my parents: “Would you have your children live long lives, sound in body and bone?”

“Take one bone each from your eldest daughter and your son.

Nurture them beside your youngest daughter’s heart, then cut them out when she turns eighteen.”

“Your eldest daughter will then rise like the sovereign moon, and your son will be the richest man in the realm.”

My parents trembled.

“And this girl?”

The monk held my wrist, half closed his eyes, and chuckled out a little song: “No future as a human.

As a beast, she’ll have plenty of room to roam.”

Her eldest son was devoted to a two-faced woman he thought was his one true love.

In a fit of rage, my future mother-in-law conceived a second child—and promised me to him instead.

I stared miserably at my still-unborn new fiancé and tactfully suggested that this might, possibly, perhaps be a little inappropriate.

She slapped the golden, glowing egg so hard it rang, and declared with absolute conviction that if her second son let me down too, she would simply have a third.

Me: Excuse me?