Happy Ending

I wanted to stroke the aloof campus heartthrob’s…

cat.

In the middle of the night, I finally couldn’t hold back anymore and sent him a message:

[Hey, classmate, can I stroke it? Just once!]

Campus Heartthrob: [Classmate, that’s a little forward of you.]

I refused to give up.

[I’m really good with my hands. I guarantee I’ll make it comfortable! You just run one hand from head to tail, right?]

The other side went silent.

An hour later, the campus heartthrob finally replied:

[One hand won’t work.]

[You can’t get a proper grip.]

I transmigrated into a Merfolk Princess who burst into tears at the drop of a hat.

The System wanted me to bully the brooding villain before his Dragon Transformation.

I swam up to him and, trembling all over, slapped his face with my fishtail.

“B-bas… bastard.”

The System lectured me, “Own it! Put your back into it!”

Later, the villain completed his Dragon Transformation and became the Lord of the Four Seas.

He pinned my fishtail beneath the dragon claw of his lower body, his voice hoarse.

“Not enough. Again.”

My sister-in-law and the youngest daughter of General Zhao were carried to the wrong bridal sedans.

By the time everyone realized it and wanted to switch them back, the woman who should have been my sister-in-law had already completed the wedding night elsewhere.

And just like that, my rough-and-tumble brother somehow ended up with a refined young lady from a noble household as his wife.

But later, when I saw him in the courtyard using a broadsword to cut a thread for her, I suddenly felt the two of them were actually a perfect match.

For three years after I entered the Eastern Palace as a concubine, I had never even seen the Crown Prince.

I took it in stride. After all, I was face-blind.

If I mistook someone else for the Crown Prince and committed a capital offense, I would rather have no favor at all.

But after so long without his favor, even my food, clothing, and daily expenses became a problem.

To live a little better, I simply found three lovers to support me.

Zhang San worked in the Imperial Kitchen and could always bring me plenty of delicious food.

Li Si guarded the Garment Bureau and often sent me beautiful clothes.

As for Wang Wu, he was a skilled craftsman in the workshops. Every time we met, he gave me some clever new toy.

Lately, though, all three of them seemed short on money.

So I began thinking that I should try to please the Crown Prince and ask for some rewards to help support them.

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 five years of marrying into my family, my penniless scholar husband passed the imperial exam-and suddenly decided I, his butcher wife, reeked of grease and blood.

For half a month, he hemmed and hawed and refused to do his husbandly duties.

So I used the silver I’d earned selling pork to buy him two ink sticks and a ream of fine paper, then scraped together the last of my coins for a tiny bar of scented soap.

When I made it home through the rain, the big yellow dog under the eaves had one of the meat dumplings I’d wrapped dangling from its mouth.

From inside the house came a coy, wheedling voice.

“Father, the magistrate’s daughter smells so nice. Not like Mother.”

“And these pastries taste better than meat dumplings too.”

I took all the bits and pieces I’d hidden against my chest and threw them out-along with the father and son.

When Zheng Huaishu signed the divorce papers, he held our son in his arms and glared at me with resentment.

All the neighbors in the village laughed at me for letting a future official go.

The very next day, the matchmaker introduced me to a fair, slender stutterer.

A little girl trailed behind him.

Father and daughter gave me timid looks.

I asked irritably, “How often can you do your husbandly duties?”

“And how much meat will you eat in a day?”

The stutterer’s face turned bright red. The matchmaker yanked his clothes down over half his shoulder, and he said in a slow, gentle voice, “As long as my child gets a mouthful of rice… as her father, I’ll do anything…”

It had been three months since I completed my mission and logged off.

The System tracked me down, looking frantic and disheveled. “You have to go back! Your husband has lost his mind!”

I calmly continued washing my cat. “Oh, please. He was never normal to begin with.”

“He’s in the black market right now, trying to sell your son!”

I cursed under my breath and slammed the teleport button.

A moment later, I found two White Tigers-one large, one small-huddled in a corner of the black market.

The large one was covered in blood. Next to his paw sat a small sign. It read in bold letters: SELLING SON EARLY TO FUND FATHER’S FUNERAL.