Childcare

When Lu Zheng was poisoned with an aphrodisiac, I spent a night as his wife to repay his kindness.

The Lu family was wealthy and powerful.

I was afraid people would think I meant to attach myself to them.

Before daybreak, I slipped out of the army camp and went south to start a small business.

I next heard news of Lu Zheng six years later.

While buying wine at the market, I heard that disaster had struck the Lu family.

Lu Zheng had been thrown into the imperial prison, and no one knew whether he was alive.

I wanted to take five-year-old Ke to see him, just once.

The Lu estate had already been confiscated.

After searching far and wide, I finally found the old marquis and his wife, both white-haired now, in a ruined temple outside the capital.

On the table before the Buddha lay a farewell letter and two bowls of thin rice gruel laced with arsenic.

The old marquis sighed and told me not to dissuade them.

“Even if we cling to life, they will still humiliate us.

We will only be a burden to our son.”

Looking at the elderly couple, so determined to die, I gave Ke a gentle nudge.

“Ke, say hello to your grandfather and grandmother.”

On my last night in the palace, Xiao Zhao got drunk and took me to bed.

The next morning, I slipped a palace maid into his bed to take my place.

Four years later, a little girl held my husband’s hand and called him Uncle in her sweet little voice.

His eyes reddened.

“Ah Jie, how can she call me Uncle?”

he asked, aggrieved.

I smiled.

“But she really is my husband’s daughter.

What else should she call you?”

After dying during an all-night gaming session, I woke in another world as the daughter of a destitute family.

I had dreamed of wealth, power, and a grand new life, but this world valued poor girls less than stray animals.

Sold into a merchant household, I learned that relying on a man could cost me my life.

To survive, I would have to find another path—and build a future with my own hands.

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?”

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!”

My husband could not father children, but he was so kind and capable that he brought home another man for me.

“He is an outsider, and a handsome one at that; once he gets you pregnant, we will simply throw him out.”

We pretended to be brother and sister and carried out our plan.

To our surprise, the man proved practically saintly: he not only left me with a child, but also paid me a fortune before he departed.

“A rustic village woman is no match for me, so do not pester me again.”

My husband was so furious that he tried to fight him, and I tearfully held him back.

“Brother, let it go—do not hurt him.”

Then I turned and whispered to my husband, “A gigolo who works for free and pays us on top of it is hard to find these days, so just play along.”

Together, we saw our generous benefactor off, used his money to buy land and open a clinic, had a son, and lived very comfortably indeed.

Three years later, the Crown Prince returned to the place where it had all begun and found the three of us together.

He went mad on the spot.

“Some brother and sister you are—you made a complete fool of me!”

The moment my daughter was born, Old Madam Lu of the Yongchang Marquis Estate took her away.

There was only one reason: I was once the most celebrated courtesan in Yongning, and the kept mistress of the marquis’s heir.

A filthy, lowborn prostitute like me had no right to raise the estate’s precious young lady.

Not even when I was the one who had given birth to her.

Artifact-conservation student Lin Fu wakes in the body of the lowest-ranking maid in the imperial harem, where saving a priceless cup brings her to the attention of Emperor Qin Zhi.

Protected by the kind Empress Shen Chenxiang, she finds purpose restoring paintings, porcelain, and other damaged treasures inside a palace that destroys people far more easily than objects.

After tragedy takes her benefactor, Lin Fu is pulled into a dangerous struggle among the Emperor, the Shen clan, and the Yan clan.

To avenge the dead and protect the children entrusted to her, she must survive as the Emperor’s favored consort without allowing the harem to turn her into another weapon.

From shattered porcelain to broken friendships, every relic she repairs reveals a history of love, betrayal, and the things no pair of clever hands can ever restore.

I had the sharpest tongue in all of Chang’an.

It was so vicious that I was still unmarried at twenty.

When the dauntless Zhao family finally came to propose, I resolved to mend my ways, retire my lethal mouth, and become a quiet, lovely bride.

On our wedding night, my husband – famed for being as gentle and refined as jade – lifted my veil and rubbed his hands together in excitement.

“I hear that when my lady curses someone out, they have to rewrite their entire family tree before dawn?”

I hurried to reassure him. “Don’t worry, Husband. I’ve turned over a new leaf.”

Zhao Yuanxiu waved both hands, so anxious that he began to stammer.

“No, no, no.”

“From now on, my lady, please be even more ruthless. Spare no one.”

Me: What?