Devoted Love Interest

The Minister of the Court of Judicial Review withstood enormous pressure, uncovered the true culprit, and cleared my father’s name, sparing our entire family from exile to Lingnan.

My father was immeasurably grateful and swore he would give his life to repay the minister’s kindness.

After a little polite hesitation, Lord Fu said, “My son has reached marriageable age, and I hear the vice minister’s household has several fine young ladies.”

My father understood.

My elder sister disappeared when she was little, but fortune favored her: the Yong’an Marquis household took her in and raised her with every comfort.

By the time she returned to us, our mother had already arranged one marriage for her, while the marquis household had promised her to someone else.

One man was the adoptive brother who had grown up beside her; the other, her childhood betrothed.

Unable to let either go, she proposed a compromise: she would marry whichever man found the jade hairpin she hid.

The day she hid hers, however, she hid mine as well.

In my last life, Wei Heng found a hairpin first, but the one in his hand belonged to me.

The smile had barely touched his lips when her adoptive brother said coldly, “You cannot even recognize Ah Zhi’s hairpin. I suppose that leaves you no choice but to marry Ranran.”

After we married, every quarrel between my sister and her husband sent her running to Wei Heng in tears.

His heart ached for her, and his old regret never faded.

“If you had married me,” he would murmur, “I would never have made you cry. Not even once.”

I found them together beneath the moon, composing poems, and side by side among the spring blossoms.

Whenever I showed the slightest displeasure, Wei Heng called me jealous and narrow-minded, saying I could never match my sister’s poetry or painting.

Now I had returned to the day Wei Heng picked up my hairpin.

I held out my hand.

“Young Master Wei, Mother is already considering matches for me. Please return my hairpin.”

I transmigrated into a cultivation novel as its vicious supporting woman.

The system told me that if I kept courting death, I could die and go home once my true colors were exposed.

So I devoted myself to making trouble for the heroine.

I seduced the senior brother she loved, poisoned her medicine, and deliberately injured myself in a secret realm so I could accuse her of attacking me…

At last, the day of judgment arrived.

Senior Brother produced the evidence and tore away my hypocritical mask.

The elders sentenced me to endure forty-nine bolts of heavenly lightning, have my immortal bones stripped away, and be cast down as a mortal.

I was overjoyed. My exit scene had finally come.

Then I heard the heroine say, “Senior Sister didn’t mean it.”

I whipped around in shock.

Her cheeks were faintly pink, almost as if she were shy.

“Senior Sister only did all that because she loves me too much.”

“It was her way of testing me.”