Beautiful Female Lead

I am the unlucky princess who got thrown into the Cold Palace.

The people above gave me two choices: either become a eunuch’s palace wife, or marry a fool.

Without the slightest hesitation, I chose to marry the fool.

After all, he comes with an extra part. I’d be getting the better deal~

I transmigrated into the villainess’s… apple.

That’s right, the Poison Apple from Snow White’s stepmother.

On the very first day after transmigrating, I cried because I was so ugly.

Damn it, half red and half green.

Maybe because I was crying too loudly, the Magic Mirror next door cautiously poked me.

“Um… actually, I think you’re the most… special… apple in this world.”

I paused, then glanced at his slightly reddened mirror surface.

“…Thanks, Comfort Hero.”

In the year of famine, disaster fell upon our entire village.

My little brother was so hungry he no longer had the strength to cry, yet his small belly was swollen tight and shiny.

Mother held him in her arms and sat on the threshold, motionless, like a clay idol that had lost its soul.

In the pot was Guanyin clay boiled in clear water. Eating it made your stomach swell, and then you couldn’t pass it.

“Girl…” Father finally spoke. “Don’t blame your mother and me for being cruel… In the palace, in the palace there’ll at least be a mouthful of food.”

When the human trafficker came in, he brought with him a gust of dry, cold wind.

“She’s decent-looking enough, just a bit too thin and weak.

“Three pecks of millet. Not a grain more.”

I saw Father’s hand trembling violently as he pressed his handprint onto that sheet of paper.

Three pecks of golden-yellow millet were poured into the only broken grain jar in our home, making a soft rustling sound.

It was such a beautiful sound-the most beautiful sound I had ever heard.

My little brother would probably live through this winter.

Spending the night in an abandoned temple, I found a thin gauze handkerchief wreathed in fragrance. After nightfall, someone murmured beneath the window:

“My lady, have you perchance seen the handkerchief this humble scholar left behind?”

Through the crack in the door, the figure outside looked so ethereal that it seemed he might drift away on the wind at any moment.

At his words, I couldn’t help recalling the rumors about this place.

They said this temple had been abandoned for ages, and that seductive ghosts haunted the area. Any traveler who got entangled with them would either have their essence sucked dry or be dragged into another world, vanishing without a trace.

With that in mind, I hurriedly cracked open the window and tossed out the piece of cloth I had used to wipe the floor, the windowsill, and my stinky feet.

The other party caught it with lightning-fast reflexes.

Then he stared down at the gauze scarf in his hand, now crumpled and ruined like dried pickled greens, and fell into deep contemplation.

My husband is someone who transmigrated into a novel.

What a coincidence. So am I.

He said, “I’m the protagonist of a male-oriented webnovel, so what I’ve gathered isn’t a harem, but various factions.”

I said, “I’m the protagonist of a female-oriented webnovel, so all those various factions of yours love me but can never have me.”

He said I was joking.

I burst out laughing. “You caught me. I was joking. The truth is, they’ve already had me.”

Because I was beautiful, my foster father adopted me.

Because I was strong, he gave me to the Ninth Prince.

Unfortunately, the very next day, the Ninth Prince was thrown into the Imperial Prison for treason.

I asked the Ninth Prince if he wanted to break out.

The Ninth Prince looked utterly despondent. “The iron prison has layer upon layer of bars. Even with wings, there would be no escape.”

That very night, the Imperial Prison was razed to the ground. The Ninth Prince vanished without wings, disappearing from the capital.

After eating a poisonous mushroom, I thought I’d transmigrated into an erotic novel.

I was the female lead, working as a little maid in the home of a Beijing Elite Young Master.

When I woke up and saw the male lead, I was slightly disappointed.

I muttered, “Why are there only six people? Do they get Sundays off?”

The Young Master was so angry he laughed. “If I’d known you were this wild, I never would’ve gone easy on you.”

After I sobered up, I burst into tears. “Honey, I was wrong, waaah…”

He leisurely tugged his tie loose and said darkly, “Don’t worry. On Sundays, we don’t rest. We’ll just follow the pace of that trashy little novel of yours.”

The newly appointed Tanhua Scholar was gentle and refined, a young lord as flawless as jade.

No one knew that at three, he had killed a man and slit him open from chest to belly. At five, he had peeled off a human face to make a lantern. He was born rotten to the core.

Xie Zhixing and I grew up depending on each other for survival. I exhausted every trick I had just to barely rein him in and make him pass for a normal person.

During the parade through the streets, the Commandery Princess fell in love with him at first sight. When she confessed her feelings, he politely refused.

Several days later, I was found dead in the street, violated and murdered by wandering bandits.

At last, the Commandery Princess got her wish and took my place. With a gentle smile, Xie Zhixing married her as Madam Xie.

Later, when blood dyed the capital red, this became the thing she regretted most in her life…

Without me to hold him back, Xie Zhixing went on a killing spree.

Fu Shiyu, the crown prince of Beijing’s elite circles, was famously untouchable.

I worked as his chief interpreter for three years.

He still never managed to remember my full name.

Until the day I “ran into” him at the gallery he often visited, my fingertip brushing over his Adam’s apple.

“CEO Fu, your tie is crooked.”

He pinned me against the floor-to-ceiling window and bit my earlobe.

“Who are you calling CEO Fu?

“Say that again. I dare you.”

I was helping my mom sell grilled sausages by the roadside when a handsome guy in a cap scanned the QR code to pay. He gave his phone a little shake, signaling that the payment had gone through.

I smiled and nodded. Then my gaze suddenly sharpened, landing on the pale, prominent bone of his wrist.

There was a tiny black tattoo there.

I narrowed my eyes slightly and recognized it.

It was that bastard Chen Wen.

His friend came over, hooked an arm around his neck, and urged him on. “Come on, Chen Wen. Let’s go to the usual spot.”

But Chen Wen just had to do the opposite of what I wanted. He took two steps toward me, bent down, and met my eyes. A moment later, recognition dawned. He let out a laugh, his eyes curving like peach blossom petals.

“Is that… Boss Tang?”

“…”