2026

When I asked my husband of one year to end our contract marriage, he agreed without hesitation.

That same night, I found an anonymous post from a man desperate to win back the wife who wanted to divorce him.

The details were suspiciously familiar, so I created a fake account as a love guru and offered to coach him through the final month.

To my astonishment, the brilliant and untouchable CEO I had married turned out to be a shy, hopeless romantic who had loved me since high school.

As every absurd piece of advice brings us closer, I must decide whether the marriage I planned to leave is the love story I never knew I wanted.

Both the Crown Prince and the Grand General wished to marry me.

I hated the intrigue of the Eastern Palace, so I chose the Grand General who had sworn that I would be the only woman in his life.

Yet on our wedding night, his female deputy lured him out of the bridal chamber with a single flask of wine.

Still dressed in my wedding robes, I listened to their moans through the wall for half the night.

When the rain became a downpour, I threw on a cloak and knocked on the Eastern Palace gate under cover of darkness.

At the Crown Prince’s astonished expression, I gave a bitter smile.

“Your Highness.”

“Tell me—if a woman suddenly thinks of another man on her own wedding night…”

“Isn’t that ridiculous?”

In the third year of my secret marriage to a top celebrity, I visited him on set and found his assistant hand-washing his underwear.

He was playing video games.

When I tried to fold his clothes, his assistant shoved me aside. “Let me handle his clothes, sis. You don’t know how he likes them. He can’t get by without me.”

The suds on her hands splashed across my brand-new Chanel.

My celebrity husband explained from the sidelines, “Li always does it. Just let her.”

All at once, I said, “Let’s get a divorce.”

He froze.

His assistant had to fight harder to suppress her grin than the recoil on an AK.

I had no choice.

I was pregnant, and this four-person marriage was getting rather crowded.

After my boyfriend dumped me, he planned to go to Tsinghua University with the beautiful top student and live happily ever after.

But when the National College Entrance Examination ended, I was the only student from our school admitted to Tsinghua, and I took the stage as the student representative.

The two of them could only watch from below.

The day I went to visit Duan Yujing on set, he openly skipped work to meet a popular young actress at a hotel.

When the intimate photos reached me, everyone on set watched my expression with nervous care.

I hardly cared. My attention had already been captured by a young man in the corner who looked somewhat like Duan Yujing.

Lunch was being served, and the cook gave him an extra lion’s-head meatball.

His eyes curved as he smiled with unguarded delight.

I studied him. “Who is he?”

The year I turned eight, I was trampled to death beneath the Crown Prince’s horse.

His guards paid my parents one tael of silver to make the matter go away.

My parents did not even retrieve my body; they took the money with ingratiating smiles and said, “For our daughter to die beneath His Highness’s horse is a blessing she could never have hoped for.”

Before my first seven days of mourning were over, Father divorced Mother and took another wife.

Mother remarried with every appearance of joy.

It seemed they had forgotten me.

Later, just as I was about to be reincarnated, Father and Mother dragged the Crown Prince to my grave and made him pay for my death with his own.

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.

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?

The day after our wedding, my husband went to the city for work and was killed by a falling billboard.

The CEO of the company responsible came to discuss compensation.

I said I was struggling to make ends meet.

He transferred me three million yuan.

I said I had nowhere to go.

He gave me a luxury apartment.

I said I didn’t want to stay a widow.

He gave me a handsome young man.

The morning after we slept together, he came to see me.

I was about to thank him when his expression changed.

“What is my brother doing here?!”

Before the zombie virus broke out, I could barely lift a thing.

After the apocalypse hit, I was taking out zombies with a single swing.

When that two-faced bitch threatened me, I had one answer: Then we die together.