Marriage of Convenience

The year I came of age, Father gave me three marriage choices.

I could become the lawful wife of a penniless scholar, the honored concubine of the Marquis of Pingnan’s heir, or the second wife of a wealthy merchant.

I wanted none of them.

Marriage negotiations always came down to the woman’s family, and my father held a modest post while I was merely a concubine-born daughter, so no truly eminent house would consider me.

Still, low birth had never cured me of high ambition.

If I could not marry up, I would sooner hang myself.

By the time Xie Ruo’an realized he had mistaken me for someone else, I was already his wife, three months with child.

That night, the eldest young master, always so dignified and composed, got drunk.

He looked at me for a long time, then sighed.

“Very well.

Let things stay as they are.”

And so I spent my whole life as the Marchioness of Xie.

I alone shared his bed, adorned in pearls and jade.

Everything seemed perfect.

Yet whenever I woke from dreams in the middle of the night, I remembered the stillness in Xie Ruo’an’s eyes that evening.

There had been no joy in them.

No dislike, either.

A twist of fate had kept him from marrying the girl he loved.

So he accepted it, and spent the better part of his life quietly by my side.

When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day he came to ask for my hand.

Lavish gifts filled the hall with gold and jade.

I refused the marriage and told him calmly, “My lord, you have the wrong woman.”

When the war ended, the army prostitutes did everything they could to persuade soldiers to take them home, because the alternative was being sold to a brothel.

By the time the dark-skinned, taciturn centurion came looking for me, only an old dying woman and I remained in the camp.

She laughed and asked why I was still waiting for Young General Pei when he was about to marry a princess in a blaze of glory.

That night, Pei Qingfeng pinned me to the bed and ordered me to wait for him at the house he had bought outside the city.

Not once did he ask about the man who had visited me that day.

He seemed certain I would never leave with anyone else.

What he did not know was that I had already accepted the centurion named Zheng Yuan.

On the day Pei Qingfeng married his princess, Zheng Yuan and I would be married too.

After a fight with my husband, I went to my boyfriend for comfort.

Then we got caught.

My boyfriend stepped in front of me and told my husband, “The one she doesn’t love is the other man!”

I said, “Keep your voice down!

Is this something to be proud of?”

I was fighting someone in the street when Young Madam took a liking to me on the spot.

She gave me fifty taels of silver and asked if I was willing to become her husband’s concubine.

They say a debt of recognition should be repaid with one’s body. Fair enough.

But was this really the way to repay it?

Still, I was desperately short on silver, so I gritted my teeth and agreed.

Only after entering the manor did I learn that my husband was introverted, my mother-in-law was tyrannical, and my sister-in-law was insufferably arrogant.

Young Madam hadn’t bought me back to serve anyone at all.

She had brought me into this family to be King Yan.

I have never been able to stand idle people.

The moment I married into the Li family, I found my new husband surrounded by a flock of talented beauties—and not a single one of them doing a day’s work.

So I lined everyone up and put them all to work: the pipa player to the music house, the dancer to the embroidery shop, and my useless heir of a husband off to perform for Prince Qi.

What started as a scheme to pay off the manor’s debts snowballed into a commercial empire—until the court, the temples, and a rebellion turned my money-making machine into something far more dangerous.

At the age when palace maids are meant to leave, Ah Li asks the imperial guard she loves to marry her—only to discover that he is the emperor, and that she is merely a substitute for his cherished Consort Rong.

After he keeps her trapped in the palace and sacrifices her to protect his favorite, Ah Li quietly accepts a marriage arranged as an act of spite.

Her new husband, General Wei Yuan, can see the floating comments that have distorted everyone’s story, and he offers her something the emperor never did: honesty and protection.

When the emperor tries to steal her back, Wei Yuan defies the throne, forcing every supposed lead in this romance to face the truth.

I found a chat log on Sheng Jing’s phone.

He had sent his female assistant a video of me helping Jiu Jiu with her homework and losing my temper.

“This is why I’d rather work overtime at the office than come home.”

The young assistant replied with a “poor you, sending hugs” sticker. “Manager Sheng, you have it so hard.

Work is exhausting enough, and then you have to deal with all that when you get home.”

I have a secret: eight years ago, I was married.

Originally, I planned to take that secret with me to the grave.

Then I ran into my former husband, Hang Lanque, in Shangjing.

I asked Hang Lanque, “Husband, didn’t you say you were going to the borderlands to repair city walls and earn money to buy me a hairpin?”

Hang Lanque replied, “Wife, didn’t you say you were going to the capital to dance and earn money to buy me a fine horse?”

Excellent. I am now prepared to send him to the grave along with this secret.

I was born fickle and faithless.

Every man I met was my next great love.

Whenever I tired of one, I gave him a potion that erased his memories of loving me.

Until one day.

They all remembered.