Arranged Marriage

I was Princess Jiuhua’s study companion, destined to one day enter the palace as a female official.

But at the welcome banquet, the General of Agile Cavalry asked His Majesty to bestow me upon him.

His mistress left a letter behind and ran away with the child.

After he sobered up, he traveled a thousand li to make amends and only then brought that woman back.

On our wedding night, he said coldly, “That day was merely drunken nonsense; I only blame you for blocking my sister’s path. But an imperial decree is hard to defy. Once this act is over, we each return to our own places.”

I asked him, “General, you see me as a mere object, and with a few words you cut off my path to becoming a female official. How can you speak of returning to our places?”

He replied indifferently, “That is your fate, not something you can blame on me.”

But I refuse to accept my fate.

After my sister passed away, Jiang Huaizhou treated me like her substitute.

He married me, yet he despised me.

Outside our marriage, he kept one lover after another.

He even mocked me, saying, “Even with Weiwei dead, you will never compare to her.”

He belittled me until I was worth less than nothing.

But then I remembered that there had once been someone who said to me:

“Yinyin, no one else matters. You matter most.”

The year I turned eighteen, my mother took five taels of silver and married me off to Ji Songzhu, a man infamous far and wide for bringing death to his wives.

Before me, both of his previous wives had died of sudden illness three days before the wedding.

In the tenth year after I married Pei Yan, he made my legitimate elder sister his empress.

Then he ordered me to feed a gu with my own body to cure her poison.

“Yuanyuan, it is only a Forget-Sorrow Gu. Wouldn’t it be nice to forget all your worries?”

It did sound nice.

So, right in front of him, I swallowed that Forget-Sorrow Gu. Just as he wished, I began to “forget sorrow.”

I forgot how he had demoted me from wife to concubine.

I forgot the bowl of abortifacient medicine he had bestowed upon me.

I forgot that I had once loved him more than life itself.

Later, bewildered, I asked my maid,

“His Majesty is so strange.

“I smiled at him, didn’t I? So why was he still crying?”

Before my father, Zhao Yong’an, left to join the army, he said that if he died out there, my mother was allowed to remarry the village hunter.

But though the hunter had a crippled leg, he was the fiercest man around. They said he could kill a tiger with a single punch, and that he had even beaten his previous wife to death.

If my mother married him, it would be no different from sending her to her death.

Three years later, sure enough, news came that Father had died.

Grandmother and the clan elders took twenty taels of silver from the hunter and forced my mother to be sold off to him.

I used every trick in the book to marry my wife.

In front of others, she refused to acknowledge me. Behind closed doors, she kept me at an even colder distance.

I knew she hated me.

But I could live with being hated by her.

Until one afternoon, at the dining table, she suddenly said to me, “He’s back from overseas. We… should spend some time apart.”

I froze.

From the day my wife and I met until now, seven years had passed.

And I still hadn’t managed to warm her heart.

Looking at her indifferent face, I was suddenly overcome with exhaustion. “Okay.”

She had always been efficient and decisive. That very night, the villa was emptied out, leaving only me behind… She had even taken the housekeeper with her.

I drank beneath the moon until dawn, yet my mind only grew clearer.

I had waited all these years. Suffered all these years. What right did I have to give up now?

Who the hell did some bastard back from overseas think he was, daring to compete with me?!

“My youngest uncle is Yin Boyu. You’ve heard of him, right?”

My blind date asked the question with a hint of contempt.

“I have.”

“He’s only a few years older than me, but he’s already the one in charge of the family company.”

“Impressive.”

“My uncle really is impressive. Handsome, loaded, the whole package. Too bad he’s so cold. He’s almost thirty, and there’s still not a single woman by his side.”

Is that so? I took a sip of my milk tea and didn’t tell him.

My divorce certificate with Yin Boyu was tucked away in my drawer.

The day I died was the day my betrothed celebrated his wedding.

In a ruined temple on the outskirts of the city, blood poured from my eyes, ears, nose, and mouth. I lay collapsed over a prayer mat, weeping before the long-dust-covered statue of Guanyin.

In this life, this humble believer had never wronged Heaven or Earth. So why had I ended up betrayed and abandoned by everyone?

Guanyin did not answer. She only gazed down at me with compassion.

Outside the door came the hurried thunder of hooves. Someone, carrying the chill of the night on his shoulders, was walking toward me.

My eyes could no longer see. I could only turn uselessly in his direction and beg in a hoarse voice,

“Whoever you are, please… give me a proper burial. In my next life, I will repay you.”

Trembling, he gathered me into his arms. A single scalding tear fell onto the center of my brow.

On the night of the first snow, the cold was bitter.

The young granddaughter, cherished like a pearl in the palm of the Marquis of Loyalty and Valor, died in the wilderness at the age of sixteen.

My fiancé returned from the front, and with him he brought a woman.

She wore a long crimson robe, a curved saber fastened at her waist. She rode in through the city gates on horseback, bold and dazzling, like the wild azaleas that set the mountains ablaze in spring.

“So this is the kind of girl Ning Zhen likes.” She folded her arms and looked me over, one brow lifting. There was no telling from her tone whether she was pleased or displeased.

Ning Zhen only glanced at her helplessly. “A childhood promise can hardly be taken seriously.”

What a fine thing to say-a childhood promise could hardly be taken seriously.

I had waited three years for him, only to be given those words.

Everyone knew that Fu Shengchao, the titan of the Beijing Circle, loved his wife more than life itself.

On the day she died in a car accident, his hair turned white overnight.

From then on, he grew more and more violent, and his relationship with his son became increasingly distant.

Father and son ended up treating each other like enemies.

Later, Fu Shengchao finally relented and agreed to find his son a stepmother.

I was among the candidates.

When our cooking skills were tested, everyone else presented delicacies fit for a banquet. I served a plate of stinky tofu.

When our talents were tested, everyone else showed off music, chess, calligraphy, and painting. I performed a set of tai chi.

When our knowledge of Fu Shengchao was tested, everyone else praised his abilities and glorious past achievements.

I leaned in and said, “CEO Fu, you have a mole on your left butt cheek.”

Fu Shengchao: “…”

That very night, I was kept behind.

Fu Shengchao pressed a gun to my temple, his expression cold.

“Talk. Who sent you?”

I dropped to my knees at once, but my eyes darted to the side.

Over there, a female ghost who had been dead for ten years was flying around in a panic. “That shouldn’t have happened! Everything I taught you was right!”

Bullshit! She also said her husband was cold on the outside but kind on the inside, and easy to coax!