Arranged Marriage

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.

My best friend is the heroine of a forced-love novel.

The male lead, Gu Beichen, destroyed her career, got her first love killed, and locked her up in a villa like some precious treasure.

I’m the heroine of an angst novel, and I have it even worse than she does.

The male lead, Shen Xingjin, killed my child, cut out my kidney, ruined my entire family, and treated me like a plaything.

My best friend and I wanted to change our fates.

Later, Gu Beichen and Shen Xingjin, those two unhinged male leads, fell in love with each other.

After my sister was widowed, she applied for a new Beastman partner.

As fate would have it, she was matched with my husband’s twin brother.

Upon learning this, Jiang Xu held me in a daze, his eyes wide open the entire night. I, too, suffered a rare bout of insomnia.

It wasn’t until the early hours of the morning that I heard him finally lose his resolve.

He slipped outside to make a quiet phone call to his brother.

“Ah Chi, I really don’t want to spend my whole life missing out on her.”

“Just help me this once.” “Don’t worry, Wen Ning is dim-witted; she’ll never realize you’re pretending to be me.”

“Remember? She already mistook us for each other once before.”

“Wen Lin hasn’t met you yet either, so even if I take your place for a few days, she won’t notice.”

“I’m begging you, just for a week. One week is all I need. I just don’t want to live with any regrets…”

He kept pleading until the sun began to rise.

Only then did Jiang Chi finally agree to pose as his brother to stay with me. At that moment, Jiang Xu and I both breathed a sigh of relief.

He never knew. In truth, I was just like him. I, too, harbored the regret of an unrequited love.

After my eldest sister took her own life, her marriage to the Heir of the Marquis of Changping was passed down to my second sister.

After my second sister took her own life, the original betrothal landed on my head.

Less than half a year after marrying into Changping Marquis Manor, I wanted to take my own life too.

Just as I was hesitating over whether to hang myself like my eldest sister or swallow gold like my second sister, the heir returned from disaster relief.

And he brought back a concubine.

I looked at the delicate, beautiful concubine and nearly wept with joy.

Wonderful. In this grand, suffocating mansion, I was finally not the only unlucky one anymore.

My concubine-born younger sister has experienced Rebirth twice.

In her first life, she chose the Sixth Prince, but it was the Ninth Prince who eventually ascended the throne.

In her second life, she chose the Ninth Prince, but it was the Sixth Prince who eventually ascended the throne.

In this third life, she wants to destroy whoever I choose.

I didn’t choose the Sixth Prince, nor did I choose the Ninth Prince.

Instead, I chose the physically disabled First Prince. She was dumbfounded.

Later, I ascended the throne as Emperor, and my sister became a prisoner.

She raved in madness, saying it was impossible-that only the Sixth Prince or the Ninth Prince could ever be Emperor.

I couldn’t help but laugh. She will likely never understand that it doesn’t matter who the Emperor is.

What matters is that whoever I choose becomes the Emperor.

In the previous two lives, I chose the Sixth Prince and the Ninth Prince. But in this life, I chose myself.

Zhao Qingzhu and I were betrothed through an exchange marriage.

The agreement was that his older sister would marry my older brother, and I would marry him.

He was a scholar, which meant his education was a money pit.

My family had to tighten our belts to provide for him, and the entire village laughed at us for being fools.

But five years later, he passed the imperial examinations with top honors and became the most sought-after bachelor around.

Suddenly, everyone was saying I was no longer worthy of him.

“Sis, you can have the female lead role!”

At the wedding venue, I clutched the hand of the male lead’s unattainable first love, sobbing my heart out.

“Whoever wants it can take it. I sure don’t!”

After transmigrating into a docile-wife romance and learning that I was expected to give the male lead eighteen children, I immediately started looking for someone to take my place.

Who would’ve thought that the frail first love, who’d always seemed one breath away from death, would sit bolt upright from her sickbed and cry: “If you don’t want it, then I don’t want it either!”

As if by tacit agreement, our gazes both turned toward the trembling third female lead.

My Mother was a courtesan, earning money with her own flesh and blood to support my father’s studies and imperial examinations.

Five years later, my father succeeded and was granted marriage to a princess by the Emperor.

Yet, in the Golden Throne Hall, he refused the marriage at the risk of his own life, and with great fanfare, married my Mother with ten miles of red bridal procession.

The princess was displeased.

Three days later, Mother was found abused and disheveled, dying at the entrance of an alley.

Half a year later, the princess finally married my father as she wished.

She did not know that this was the beginning of her misfortune.

My Imperial Elder Brother is into men, and my Imperial Elder Sister is into women.

Imperial Father has pinned all his hopes for the empire on me.

I’m trembling-should I tell him that the one I love is a eunuch?

Imperial Father: “Impressive.”

When Xie Yan was diagnosed with stomach cancer, I was abroad, clearing my head.

He was calling for the hundredth time when my secretary-a man standing six-foot-two-finally picked up the phone.

“Where are you? Who is that with you?” I heard his voice crack over the line, sounding like he was on the verge of a total breakdown.

I couldn’t help but let out a mocking sneer. “Didn’t we agree to stay out of each other’s business? Why are you acting like such a sore loser now?”