Childcare

After stepping into a giant footprint out in the wilderness… I got pregnant.

It was such an outrageous thing that, naturally, my mother refused to believe it.

She slapped me across the face right off the bat and demanded to know which man I’d been sneaking into the woods with.

I clutched my cheek and didn’t dare make a sound.

In an attempt to salvage a little dignity, Mother had me put on a Heaven’s Headdress, implying that this child had no father and was a gift from the heavens.

Who would have thought that, as dusk approached, people really did descend from the sky?

Every last one of them was bristling with righteous fury, their eyes red-rimmed, looking even more wronged than I did.

“My Lord was born divine. He is the King of the State, and the Universal Lord besides. How could he possibly have anything to do with some village woman from the countryside?”

“Speak. What exactly did you do?!”

Thinking back to that enormous, awe-inspiring footprint from last night, I was completely bewildered.

“Me? I just… shivered on top of it?” -After Stepping on the God’s Footprint This story is adapted from the ancient myth of “the Jiang Maiden conceiving after stepping in a footprint.”

Basically, it’s a story about the female lead raising a child, the male lead also raising a child, or the two of them raising a child together.

I was sent into the palace because I wasn’t clever.

Before I left, Mother warned me never to fall for the emperor.

I asked her what falling for someone meant.

“It means seeing him makes you happy.”

Puzzled, I tilted my head and asked: “Happier than eating braised pork?”

“A hundred times happier.”

I immediately thumped my chest and promised I would never fall for anyone as long as I lived.

After all, nothing in the world tasted better than braised pork.

Then one day, the noble consort everyone called arrogant and overbearing smiled and pressed a sweet cake into my hand.

When I was twenty-five, I had a child with one of the most powerful heirs in Beijing’s elite circle.

There was no future for two people as unequal as us, so I took the money and opportunities the He family offered and broke up with him.

Then, five years later, during a break on set.

A little boy who looked strikingly like He Jinnan came looking for me.

He pursed his lips, aggrieved yet stubbornly proud.

“My dad is He Jinnan,” he said.

“And you’re my mom.”

I looked at him and gave a faint hum of acknowledgment.

He hurriedly pulled a thick wad of cash from his backpack.

His eyes were full of pleading.

“Can I hire you for one day to come to my parent-teacher meeting?”

The day I decided to divorce Pei Qingshu was an ordinary one.

Only the night before, he had promised that he would send Miss Liu away the next day, then celebrate my birthday properly with me.

It finally seemed as though our life was about to get better.

Delighted, I rose early, opened my dressing case, and carefully drew my brows while looking into a copper basin.

Then I dug an old pomegranate-red skirt out from the bottom of the camphorwood chest.

After seven years of marriage, I did not own a single decent piece of jewelry.

Seeing my bare ears, I pinched off a balsam blossom and tucked it behind my bun.

On my way out to buy vegetables, I ran into Chunxiang’s mother, who caught my arm with a teasing smile.

“I saw Master Pei buy two hairpins the other day—one gold, one jade. Let me see which one you’re wearing.”

Then she noticed the balsam flower in my hair and froze.

“I’m sorry, ma’am, but this card has insufficient funds.”

I froze for a heartbeat before quickly handing over another one.

The red light flashed again.

“I’m sorry, this card is also declined.”

“…What?”

I steadied my breathing and dialed my husband’s number.

“Honey, haven’t you been paid yet? The baby is out of formula.”

His voice through the receiver was devoid of warmth.

“A household isn’t supported by one person alone. I expect you to learn how to be independent instead of living like some pathetic parasite.”

With those words, he declared war.

Fine.

Then let the hunt begin.

On the day my elder sister died of illness, I took my nephew to the Marquis’s Mansion to claim kinship.

The Second Young Master of the Marquis’s Mansion was in the middle of his wedding, and the place was bustling with celebration.

When the Marchioness saw the jade pendant I brought out, she nearly fainted.

She hid behind a screen and, suppressing her anger, said, “If the Chancellor’s Daughter finds out about the evil deed he committed, this marriage will be ruined!”

An old nanny offered her advice in a low voice.

“Madam, don’t panic. Back then, the Second Young Master said that woman had been drugged and never saw his face clearly.

“It was only because he left in such a hurry that he dropped this family heirloom jade pendant and gave someone leverage over him.

“Since this woman has come looking for us, we can simply pin the whole matter on the Eldest Young Master.”

I had possessed astonishingly sharp hearing since childhood, so I heard every word of their little conspiracy.

In truth, whether it was the Eldest Young Master or the Second Young Master made no difference to me.

It did not matter who became my husband.

What mattered was that my nephew would have a good place to study.

The Marquis Manor Clan School had a great scholar of the current dynasty presiding over it.

It would not waste his natural gifts.

While the concubines of the harem fought for favor, the Empress was wondering when the emperor would finally die.

The emperor and I had been married since our youth, but ours was a match arranged without either of us having any say.

After all these years, we had only ever treated each other with distant courtesy.

And as my son grew older by the day, I found myself hoping more and more that His Majesty might depart this world sooner rather than later-if only so all my years of diligently managing his harem would not have been in vain.

My mother was the ubiquitous housekeeper Mrs. Wang from domineering-CEO romance novels.

After graduating from college, I inherited the family profession and became Mrs. Wang 2.0.

When the CEO’s first love faked a fall, I slid a cushion under her to keep her safe.

When Madam was too depressed to eat, I cheered her up with warm words and good food.

When the CEO scolded his first love, I comforted her too.

I lived by the housekeeper’s creed my mother had taught me: every visitor is a guest, and a good worker always sees what needs doing.

In the end, Madam and the first love came to blows over me.

“You can have my man—we can negotiate; try taking my housekeeper, and you’re dead!”

I transmigrated into a tragic romance novel as the female lead’s sister.

In the original plot, I spent my time abusing her daughter while simultaneously trying to seduce her husband.

Ultimately, I groomed her daughter to become the next generation’s tragic heroine, while I met a miserable end myself-tossed into the ocean to feed the fish.

Now, looking at the innocent Little Bean Bun standing before me, I said: “If you love suffering, you’ll have a never-ending supply of it. So, do you want to swallow that bitter pill, or are you going to speak up for yourself?”

“Go up there and give him a piece of your mind. If you win the argument, I’ll buy you a burger; if you lose, I’ll buy you a drink.”

“What? You’re afraid to win? Do you really love being a perpetual runner-up that much? You don’t have to be number one, but you can’t settle for second best, and you certainly can’t be a pushover.”

“Your mother brought you into this world to enjoy life, not to suffer. Go compete, go grab what’s yours, and be brave! Go get ’em, baby!”

My older brother was eighteen when he was married off as a live-in son-in-law to my sister-in-law.

My sister-in-law said that if he gave her a child, she’d reward him by letting him continue his studies.

Later, the day my brother passed the imperial exam, Father still refused to give up and asked,

“Son, now can my grandson change his surname back to mine?”