2026

After seven years together and more than seven hundred breakups, my ex wanted us to drink a potion that would make us forget each other.

Worried it might taste bitter, he took the first sip.

Then he looked at me as though we had never met—and decided he wanted me all over again.

When he poured away my glass, he had no idea what I had put in it.

Or so I thought.

My husband could not father children, but he was so kind and capable that he brought home another man for me.

“He is an outsider, and a handsome one at that; once he gets you pregnant, we will simply throw him out.”

We pretended to be brother and sister and carried out our plan.

To our surprise, the man proved practically saintly: he not only left me with a child, but also paid me a fortune before he departed.

“A rustic village woman is no match for me, so do not pester me again.”

My husband was so furious that he tried to fight him, and I tearfully held him back.

“Brother, let it go—do not hurt him.”

Then I turned and whispered to my husband, “A gigolo who works for free and pays us on top of it is hard to find these days, so just play along.”

Together, we saw our generous benefactor off, used his money to buy land and open a clinic, had a son, and lived very comfortably indeed.

Three years later, the Crown Prince returned to the place where it had all begun and found the three of us together.

He went mad on the spot.

“Some brother and sister you are—you made a complete fool of me!”

At seven, Jinxi is sold to the Marquis of Martial Valor’s household and trained to become a dowry concubine for its formidable legitimate daughter.

Knowing that one wrong move could cost her life, the transmigrated girl hides her intelligence and searches for a way out.

Her chance comes in the innocent Ninth Prince, but every kindness in the marquis’s household carries a price.

As Jinxi rises from purchased pawn to legitimate daughter and princess consort, she discovers that the ruthless women around her are neither as simple nor as heartless as they first appeared.

My mother-in-law brought home a child whose features looked just like my dead husband’s.

She called it fate.

My husband had been reincarnated and returned to repay my kindness.

So I rallied the full strength of our clan to make the boy heir to the marquisate.

But once he had risen to power and made a name for himself, he locked me in a woodshed in the rear courtyard and left me to die.

Then my supposedly dead husband came to my grave with his wife.

“Our son saw you to your end, at least.

That makes your life worthwhile.”

Now that I had been reborn, they could play their parts onstage, and I would applaud from below.

I would help them put on a tragedy of blood ties severed and a family destroyed.

In the year of severe famine, Mother took me to Prince Zhong’s Mansion, a place so distantly related it could hardly be called kin, to seek charity.

We came back with eighty taels of silver and a cart of grain, which we shared with the villagers.

In exchange, the whole village was abuzz with rumors.

The villagers gossiped that she had traded her chastity for grain. After my father divorced her, she hanged herself with a hemp rope, swaying there with her eyes open.

Later, after Prince Zhong’s Mansion fell, the Little Commandery Princess from the mansion, who had once given me a Golden Phoenix, was kidnapped and sold into the brothels.

I pretended to redeem her, then robbed her of her last few pieces of silver.

People-aren’t they all like that?

Qi Sinian had one rule for his affairs: his mistresses had to know their place.

Any woman who dared show herself in front of his wife would be dealt with by the next day.

And still they kept coming.

Because I, Mrs.

Qi, was so easy to push around.

To marry Qi Sinian, I had signed a prenup.

If we divorced, I would leave with nothing.

Later, to be allowed to have our child, I agreed to send him to the family estate.

I could see him only once a month.

I had no power, no connections, no family or friends.

All I knew was beauty treatments and flower arranging.

Then another of Qi Sinian’s mistresses came to gloat.

“He’s so bad.

He kept me on my knees all night.

They’re still swollen.”

Smiling, I set down my scissors and led her to fetch something.

When she wasn’t looking, I pushed her inside.

“Since you’ve worked so hard, take a couple of days off.

Don’t see anyone for the next two days.”

On my first day in the palace, I told my own fortune.

A west wind slipped along the foot of the wall, lifting three dead leaves.

Two fell into the gutter; one landed on my shoe.

I studied that leaf for a long while and reached a conclusion: Don’t compete.

Stay alive.

Excellent.

I decided on the spot that, from that day forward, I would be a layabout with principles.

For two years, my online boyfriend and I have turned ordinary life into an absurd rich-heir role-play.

Then he adds me to his childhood-friends group, and I discover that every outrageous claim was true: he really is a powerful heir, and his so-called loyal lackey is the president of my company.

Convinced I have deceived him, I try to run before the truth ruins everything.

But Fu Yan has known exactly who I am all along, and he has no intention of letting class differences—or my spectacular misunderstandings—end our romance.

My older brother was eighteen when he was married off as a live-in son-in-law to my sister-in-law.

My sister-in-law said that if he gave her a child, she’d reward him by letting him continue his studies.

Later, the day my brother passed the imperial exam, Father still refused to give up and asked,

“Son, now can my grandson change his surname back to mine?”

When the zombie outbreak hit, my two-faced best friend locked me out.

Before I could find somewhere to hide, the ten-year-old next door bit me on the butt.

He was little, and his teeth weren’t much good.

Becoming a zombie hadn’t made him much tougher, either.

Once he’d bitten me, he stiffly shuffled away.

Watching him go, I suddenly felt a little embarrassed.

Suppose zombies ruled the world years from now, and someone asked how we’d all turned.

Everyone else would have fought off a whole pack of vicious zombies before finally going down.

Or sacrificed themselves heroically to save humanity.

Was I supposed to say I’d been lousy at hiding and some brat shorter than me had bitten my butt?

I felt pretty miserable.

But not for long.

Then I decided to stop trying.