Ancient China

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?

I am an old palace maid.

I have spent thirty-five full years in this deep palace.

The Chinese parasol tree before Qingliang Hall flourishes year after year, while I grow older with each passing year.

In this lifetime, I have seen the young and inexperienced Consort Zhen pass away, the Consort Yu in the prime of her beauty pass away, and even the white-haired Empress pass away.

They all died in the bloom of youth, crushed beneath the weight of imperial power.

Within these deep palace walls, how many beautiful women’s skeletons lie buried?

Five years after her elder sister fails to produce an heir, concubine-born Song Yao is forced into the palace as the Song clan’s replacement pawn. With her mother and ailing brother held hostage, she turns the family’s coercion into a weapon, pledging herself to a ruthless emperor while plotting to dismantle the clan that murdered her brothers. In a harem ruled by rival families, every act of devotion is a gambit—and Song Yao intends to survive long enough to claim the board.

I had the sharpest tongue in all of Chang’an.

It was so vicious that I was still unmarried at twenty.

When the dauntless Zhao family finally came to propose, I resolved to mend my ways, retire my lethal mouth, and become a quiet, lovely bride.

On our wedding night, my husband – famed for being as gentle and refined as jade – lifted my veil and rubbed his hands together in excitement.

“I hear that when my lady curses someone out, they have to rewrite their entire family tree before dawn?”

I hurried to reassure him. “Don’t worry, Husband. I’ve turned over a new leaf.”

Zhao Yuanxiu waved both hands, so anxious that he began to stammer.

“No, no, no.”

“From now on, my lady, please be even more ruthless. Spare no one.”

Me: What?

When General Lin Zhao returns from the northern frontier with a beautiful, unconventional young woman, Cheng Qingqing fears she is about to lose the husband she has loved since childhood.

Then Xu Liuzhao tells her an impossible truth: their world is a book, and Qingqing is its doomed heroine—a treasured canary destined to be abused, blamed, and caged by three powerful men.

Xu Liuzhao came to save her.

To survive, Qingqing must unlearn everything she was taught about love, obedience, and a woman’s place—and discover how far she is willing to go to claim her freedom.

I was the poor relation living under the Marquis of Ning’an’s roof.

When the marchioness saw my flawless complexion and natural beauty, she decided I should become her eldest son’s honored concubine.

My cousin, the heir, refused.

“With her background and her looks, if I took her in, what position would that leave my future wife in?”

Oh, what an exceptionally decent man. A pity he wasn’t meant for me.

So I put the thought aside and sensibly found another path for myself.

But just before my wedding, my cousin seized me and refused to let go. His eyes were bloodshot as he trembled. “You can’t marry him! I won’t allow it!”

“…”

The betrothal gifts had already arrived, and my dowry list was finished.

Who did he think he was, telling me not to marry now?

My mother was the discarded wife of a marquis, and everyone was waiting to laugh at her.

Yet she refused to give them the satisfaction.

She neither made my father regret casting her out nor won the heart of some handsome man.

She left the capital in disgrace, looking like a homeless cur.

Years later, I was betrothed to the son of an earl’s household.

Noble though his birth was, his endless visits to brothels had left him riddled with disease.

On my wedding day, I sat in the bridal sedan, about to take my own life.

Then horses reared and people shouted outside, throwing the procession into chaos.

The marquis’s discarded wife had returned—to steal the bride.

I was once my young mistress’s senior maid.

Simply because the heir cast one extra glance my way, she gave me away and I became his bedchamber maid.

Later, the heir became engaged.

His future wife disliked me, so he gave me to another man.

Later still, he begged me to return.

But by then, I was already the lawful wife of the Chief Grand Secretary.

My husband, Xiao Ji, is the realm’s celebrated Grand Chancellor.

My elder sister, the Empress Dowager, commands the inner palace.

For years, they have put each other—and the empire—before me.

When they cancel the birthday fireworks I have long awaited, I finally stop asking to be chosen.

I leave the capital with a divorce agreement and build the life I always wanted as a physician in Jiangnan.

Only after I am gone do they realize that devotion cannot excuse neglect.

But regret may have come too late, because I have no intention of returning to the game that broke me.