Tragedy

Born into a family of household servants, Zhou Fanxing is chosen as a maid for a noble girl and discovers a gift for mathematics and astronomy that no woman of her station is meant to possess.

While her beautiful younger sister Mingyue climbs into the imperial harem and their mistress struggles with betrayal, Fanxing works in secret, knowing her discoveries can never bear her name.

Released from the palace into an ordinary merchant marriage, she keeps calculating the heavens as illness shortens her life.

At last, beneath a meteor shower she predicted decades in advance, the nameless servant finds the answer she has spent her life pursuing.

Three women—and the husband who loved her quietly—reveal what the stars meant to a genius the world refused to see.

Huang Hongyu learned young that survival meant becoming whatever powerful men wanted to see.

When the ruthless Cheng Hao takes her as his mistress, she turns dependence into an education in money, power, and human weakness.

As her businesses grow and her past closes in, Hongyu must decide whether love can exist inside a bargain built on violence.

Years later, the secret Cheng leaves behind reveals that the woman he could never keep had become the legend he always knew she would be.

Everyone in Shengjing knows that Young Marquis Shen despises his wife, Meng Suichao.

He spends his days in brothels while she tends to him with unfailing devotion—until a scar destroys the one resemblance that kept her at his side.

When Suichao finally asks for a divorce, an old love believed dead returns through the snow, forcing every buried truth into the light.

For four years, Emperor Pei Guannan has refused to fill his harem, and the court blames the man at his side.

Xie Yuanzhen has shared his hardships for fifteen years, asking for neither power nor reward.

But loyalty cannot give the dynasty an heir, and love cannot silence the ministers.

To protect the emperor’s name, Yuanzhen leaves the palace to serve the people.

Across snowbound roads and the endless rain of Nanyue, the words they cannot say become letters—and a promise to live to eighty.

At fourteen, naive Ah Yuan enters the imperial palace beside her fearless friend Xiaochun, believing the two of them can survive anything together.

But as Xiaochun rises through the emperor’s favor, the women around them are drawn into a harem where affection is political currency and every child can become a weapon.

Ah Yuan survives by holding fast to kindness, even as loyalty turns into leverage, ambition demands blood, and the people she loves make choices she cannot undo.

Across a lifetime shaped by palace secrets, she bears witness to the cost of clinging to power—and to the quiet courage it takes to walk away.

While we were fleeing the famine, my elder brother, He Peizhi, insisted on taking in a mysterious mother and daughter, heedless of the danger to our whole family.

Later, the young woman was carried off by bandits and vanished without a trace, and my brother blamed me for refusing to save her.

Years afterward, his success brought us neither relief nor reunion, only Bai Yuanqing’s merciless revenge.

Given another life, I will no longer work myself to the bone for a brother who cares only for his precious Qingqing.

Before we married, I already knew my husband had a concubine he doted on.

It did not matter.

I was marrying into a great house to become its mistress.

Naturally, I could afford to be generous.

After the wedding, I put the marquis’s household in perfect order, and my reputation as a virtuous wife spread throughout the capital.

Whether that concubine had a brain in her head, I could not say.

She actually let people know that the marquis and I had never consummated our marriage.

She meant to humiliate me, to make me a laughingstock.

What she never imagined was that her little stunt would force my mother-in-law to send the marquis knocking on my door late one night.

In the year when I was at my most spineless, the Noble Consort called me oversensitive.

That very night, I took a rope to her bedchamber, intending to hang myself beside her bed.

Fortunately, she found me in time and rescued me in tears.

Later, a beauty newly arrived at the palace called me as stupid as a pig.

I said nothing.

I simply took out my rope.

The Noble Consort said nothing either.

She just kept slapping her.

“Even I daren’t scold her.

Who do you think you are?”

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.”

The crown prince married me because I seemed content to ask for nothing.

He made me promise that when my elder sister changed her mind and returned, I would surrender my place as crown princess.

What did he know?

Asking for nothing could be the surest way to gain everything.

After the wedding, I wore myself out in his service, at court and within his household alike.

I even nearly “died” for him several times.

The day my sister returned, I kept our agreement: I took off the crown princess’s robes and handed over the phoenix seal.

He was the one who began to hesitate.