Tragedy

Six years after our divorce, I ran into my ex-husband on a street corner while holding my three-year-old daughter.

He stared blankly at the girl in my arms for a long time before knitting his brows. “She’s almost six years old,” he said, his voice laced with accusation. “Why does she look so thin and small?”

Ha!

He actually thought the child I was holding was his.

I suppose he believed I loved him so deeply that even after he cheated and divorced me, I would have gone off and raised his child all on my own.

When I was eighteen, I didn’t dare push open that door. Behind it, my best friend was playing adult games with the male writer I secretly loved.

I remembered that moment for ten long years. In that decade, my friend died, the writer stopped writing, and my life was ruined.

I respectfully composed a letter and mailed it to the man I had once loved from afar: Chen Song.

My husband holds the highest office in the land, and I am the most virtuous noblewoman in all of Shangjing.

The wives of the capital’s officials all claim I am blessed with good fortune, yet they have no idea that I have been neglected by him for years, my heart heavy with misery.

He finds me dull and is deeply in love with his concubines, with whom he has both sons and daughters.

Finally, after my mother-in-law had expressed her disdain for my inability to conceive countless times, I found myself pregnant.

But Cheng Wenting nearly lost his mind.

With bloodshot eyes, his hand trembled uncontrollably as he choked me. “Whose child is it?”

A gentle smile played on my lips. “My Lord, it is yours, of course.”

My boyfriend asked me to help him shut down his computer.

That was when I saw his chat logs.

A girl named Qingqing had messaged him: “So, when are you coming to marry me?”

In my past life, my sister was adopted by a wealthy family, while I was taken in by a street cleaner.

As it turned out, that wealthy family was plagued by vicious infighting. Her parents were cold, her brother was a bully, and she was eventually kicked out with nothing to her name.

My home, however, was full of harmony. To top it off, a wealthy young heir fell in love with me-the poor, innocent Little White Flower. My life was like something straight out of a romance drama.

Consumed by resentment, my sister killed me, and we both returned to the day we were adopted.

This time, she rushed forward and threw herself into the cleaner’s arms before I could move.

“Sister, this time, it’s my turn to be the leading lady of the drama.”

But what she didn’t know is that a leading lady is never defined by her background.

I was the unloved young lady of the Marquis Mansion.

My father gave me to my elder sister’s fiancé and forced me to bear his child.

I was compelled to write a breakup letter to the man I loved.

“How could a Mountain Village Bumpkin ever be worthy of a lady of my station?”

Later, the bumpkin from that letter had risen to the highest ranks, and he mocked me with disdain,

“And you, an Abandoned Wife – how could you ever be worthy of me?”

At my grand wedding to my Boyfriend, a stranger pushed open the door and walked in elegantly.

Who is he? What does he want? Is he here to bless me, or to destroy me?

When the man smiled, raised his hand, and lightly pushed me off the rooftop, I finally remembered who he was.

After fate destroyed me once more, it granted me the chance of Rebirth.

Since then I have decided: I will never bow my head or admit defeat. Even if I fall into Avici Hell, I will stop at nothing.

When I was five years old, my mother and I died in a car accident.

The people who orchestrated the accident were my father and my mother’s best friend.

After receiving two insurance payouts, they got married and lived happily together as a family.

Occasionally, That Woman would get scared: “The mother and daughter who died-won’t they turn into Vengeful Ghosts and come back to take revenge on me?”

My father would laugh at her for being superstitious.

But they didn’t know-I wasn’t dead.

And the me who returned alive for revenge would be far more terrifying than any Vengeful Ghost.

On the third day after being diagnosed with Stomach Cancer, I chose a grave for myself.

They say the feng shui is especially good.

It’s supposed to bless me so that in my next life, I won’t be the real daughter everyone despises.

No one will steal my parents, my brother, or everything else from me.

No longer… unloved.

I burned my photos and clothes, erased every trace of my existence.

Then I slit my wrists, lay down in the bathtub, and waited peacefully for death.

But then the Cemetery Center suddenly called me:

“Miss Lu, we’re terribly sorry.”

“Two Agents accidentally sold the same plot.”

“This grave was also sold to another gentleman.”

“Would you… mind moving your grave?”

My Mother was a courtesan, earning money with her own flesh and blood to support my father’s studies and imperial examinations.

Five years later, my father succeeded and was granted marriage to a princess by the Emperor.

Yet, in the Golden Throne Hall, he refused the marriage at the risk of his own life, and with great fanfare, married my Mother with ten miles of red bridal procession.

The princess was displeased.

Three days later, Mother was found abused and disheveled, dying at the entrance of an alley.

Half a year later, the princess finally married my father as she wished.

She did not know that this was the beginning of her misfortune.