Ancient China

Men with big butts are good at bearing children. That’s what my mom always taught me.

She said that no matter how disobedient a man was, once you got him pregnant, he’d do whatever you said.

As luck would have it, my boyfriend abducted me and took me deep into the mountains, demanding that I bear children for his bachelor buddies.

“You’re not allowed to stop until you’ve had eight sons!”

Eight? I passed out from sheer delight.

Well, in that case, don’t mind if I do…

My mother had been a pawned wife, passed through many households and made to bear many sons.

When age took her beauty and she could no longer have children, she opened a wife-pawning house of her own and began selling other men’s wives.

One spring day, a carriage stopped outside our shop.

A handsome young scholar stood there with tears reddening his eyes.

“Mother,” he said, “I’ve come to take you home and give you a life of comfort.”

The newly appointed imperial scholar claimed he was one of the sons she had borne, and he had returned to repay the gift of life.

Lin Wanrou was twenty-four this year, an old maiden who still had not married.

Madam Lin’s standards for a son-in-law had fallen from imperial kin to any promising young talent with ambition.

She refused to believe that, with the Grand General’s influence, she could not raise up one dragon among men as her son-in-law.

Lin Wanrou did not want to marry. She would rather stay at home for the rest of her life.

After eight years of marriage, divine physician Huo Yunqiao discovers that her beloved husband has betrayed her to protect the junior martial sister who has always hated her.

Bound to a System that will send her home only if she dies by the male lead’s hand, Yunqiao chooses to drink the poisoned prescription he writes for her—and spends her final days exposing every lie, reclaiming her dignity, and forcing those who wronged her to face the ruin they made.

I have a secret: eight years ago, I was married.

Originally, I planned to take that secret with me to the grave.

Then I ran into my former husband, Hang Lanque, in Shangjing.

I asked Hang Lanque, “Husband, didn’t you say you were going to the borderlands to repair city walls and earn money to buy me a hairpin?”

Hang Lanque replied, “Wife, didn’t you say you were going to the capital to dance and earn money to buy me a fine horse?”

Excellent. I am now prepared to send him to the grave along with this secret.

After being reborn, I met Song Shixing again.

He was slumped at the end of an alley, covered in wounds and barely clinging to life.

I knew that in three years, he would become the ruler who stood at the pinnacle of the world.

And I would be his empress. Power and riches would all be within my grasp.

But this time, I didn’t want to save him.

Song Shixing, in this life, I don’t want anything to do with you ever again.

Gu Yuqing is the daughter of a fallen general and the most unlikely court historian in Great Chu: a woman who can fight an army but can barely read.

When a modern woman awakens in the body of Empress Pei Lingyi, the two of them turn Yuqing’s brutally honest records into a weapon against corrupt ministers, unfaithful men, and a kingdom built to erase women.

As reforms spread and the Chancellor moves to seize the throne, Yuqing must return to the battlefield while Lingyi risks being erased from history altogether.

Between broken brushes, unfinished chronicles, and birthday cakes from another world, two women fight to write their names—and their love—into the future.

At twenty-five, I arranged for Bighead Xiao to take his first concubine.

Her dowry was an entire city.

At twenty-six, I arranged the second.

Her dowry was ten li of granaries.

At forty-two, he took his eighteenth.

There were so many women that I could no longer remember their names.

And I had gone from a farmer’s wife to the founding empress of Great Zhao.

For a year after I was brought back to the Prime Minister’s mansion, I grew used to admitting fault.

When Song Ruoyun fell at my side yet again, she filled her eyes with practiced tears and looked at me as if words failed her.

My mother, utterly disappointed, struck me without a second thought.

I realized I would never live to see the day they understood they had wronged me, so I chose to leave.

Braving the rain, I knelt before my aunt, who had never gotten along with my mother, and wept: ‘Please take me in, Aunt. Even as your maidservant, I would fare better than as my mother’s own daughter.’

On the day of my hairpin ceremony, my brother-in-law, tipsy from wine, barged into my room.

That same night, my mouth was gagged and I was taken to the Marquis’s Mansion.

My legitimate elder sister told me she could not bear children and needed to borrow my womb.

A year later, I gave birth to a son.

My legitimate elder sister brought me to the Bamboo Garden, where four old maids covered my mouth and buried me in a pit they had dug long before.

Before I died, I kept wondering what the point had been of someone like me coming into this world.

But I never imagined that I would be dug up again.

The person who found me was small and thin, yet he staggered along with me on his back for ten miles.

He covered me with the only clothing he had and gave me a chance to live.

An old man took me in. From that day on, I changed my name and became someone else.

Five years later, my wonton shop opened in Capital City, and I happened to run into my legitimate elder sister and her family being sold off.

She begged me to save her son.

But I pointed to the young man kneeling off to the side and said, “I’ll only save him.”