Arranged Marriage

Everyone calls Xie Qingwei the finest nobleman in Shengdu, and Jiang Zhiyu has perfected every virtue expected of a woman to win his family’s approval.

Then a vision shows her the miserable future awaiting her as his wife.

Determined to escape, she points to the impoverished Xue Shao and declares him the man she loves.

But securing a better marriage is only the beginning: in a world that gives women so few choices, Zhiyu may have to find a higher place of her own.

“Oh, very well.

I will marry him.”

My sisters’ eyes went round.

Everyone knew how hopelessly I adored Ninth Young Master Cui: his literary gifts, his youthful grace.

I had led his horse, ground his ink, and made an utter fool of myself over him.

Why would I now agree to help our aunt the empress build her faction by marrying Pei Yao, that Turkic bastard neither of his parents cared for?

“Quick, tell Father!

Sanniang has agreed!”

My eldest sister reacted at once.

Afraid I might change my mind, she loudly applauded my decision and sent a servant off with the news.

The others recovered, hastily put on smiles, and clasped my hands from either side.

Such a sensible girl, they told me.

I was bound to go far.

I knew none of them would accept this splendid opportunity if it were offered to her.

But for me, it was already the best future I could hope for.

After all, in that dream, I had fought against it.

After I was brought back to the household as its true-born daughter, my parents were full of guilt, and my brother doted on me.

Even the girl who had taken my place was truly kind and virtuous.

Tears on her lovely face, she knelt and bowed her head to me.

“I took your place and left you to suffer all those years.”

I smiled and said it was all right.

Then, before long, I ended up in the pond with her impeccably virtuous fiancé.

I am Gu Qianyu, the chancellor’s daughter, and I have unexpectedly acquired a unique gift.

I can see whether a man has been faithful.

If he has been with only one woman, a cucumber floats above his head.

The number of cucumbers increases with the number of women he has had.

The man I am supposed to marry is the heir to the Marquis of Wuling.

A rare specimen of male virtue, scrupulously chaste.

Famous for it throughout the capital.

On the day he came to ask for my hand, he stood tall and elegant, every inch the gentleman.

But when I looked up, the cucumbers above his head stretched all the way out of our residence.

With a woebegone face, I told Mother, “Mother, this is a very, very dirty cucumber!”

“I won’t marry him!”

To repay a bandit for saving his life, Father promised him one of his daughters in marriage.

When the family heard, my eldest sister accepted our cousin’s proposal that very night.

My second sister jumped into the river and fell gravely ill.

My third sister ran away with a scholar.

I alone knew nothing about it.

I was in my courtyard, kicking a shuttlecock.

The bandit passed my courtyard with Father, pointed at me, and said, “Her.”

After marrying a blind CEO, I took full advantage of the fact that he couldn’t see me and kissed him again and again.

Blushing, he kept saying, “Miss Lin, please don’t.”

Later, he backed me into a corner, his gaze dark and intent.

“Come here, sweetheart.

I need a cuddle.”

I was a terrible stickler for the truth.

When my husband returned from war, he brought a woman home.

The moment she saw me, she dropped to her knees and declared that she wanted to marry the marquis, even if she could only be his concubine.

I said nothing at the time.

But after tossing and turning until midnight, I could bear it no longer and knocked on her door.

My husband wasn’t the marquis.

The marquis in this household was my widowed father-in-law; my husband was only his third son, born to a concubine.

Her dimming eyes suddenly lit up at the word widowed.

My husband—an arranged match—and my boyfriend had swapped bodies.

But I didn’t know.

All I knew was that my husband had been very happy lately.

Something about finally being official.

My boyfriend wasn’t nearly so brooding anymore, either.

He kept saying things like, “As long as it’s the man I am now that you love.”

Until one day.

My boyfriend asked me when I was getting divorced.

My mother taught me never to trust a man’s affection.

When a marquis’s family chose me to marry their reckless third son, I saw my chance to rise.

He already kept a pregnant mistress, but I had no intention of fighting her for his love.

I would save her, secure my place, and make myself indispensable.

In a house full of secrets, every crisis could become a rung on my ladder.

After they discovered I was not their real daughter, they began withholding everything—my food, my clothes, even the charcoal for my fire.

My betrothal to the Pei family became the only thing I could rely on.

But Pei Xuan’s moods were impossible to predict.

A single word from me would often anger him enough to send a letter breaking off our engagement.

I spent my days in fear and my nights in worry.

At last, I fell gravely ill.

When I woke, the lady of the household stood before me.

“A captain serving under my uncle commands a hundred men.”

“His birth is humble, but he is young and brave.

He has distinguished himself in battle again and again.”

Holding the letter of repudiation, she looked pained.

“The Peis may be an excellent family, but your present standing makes you an unsuitable match.

You live in constant fear.”

“What are wealth and glory worth beside your life?”

“We were mother and daughter once.

I truly want to find you a good husband.”

I pressed a hand to my chest and nodded through my tears.

“I understand, my lady.”

“I will marry him.”