Marriage

The Empress had devised an elegant diversion: if a prince shot down a kite bearing a noblewoman’s name, he could choose her as his consort.

I made a point of running over to remind the Third Prince.

“That huge red butterfly kite is mine.

Don’t mix it up with the others later.”

He grinned and teased me.

“Are you that eager to marry me?”

“Fine.

I’ll think about it.

If I can’t hit anyone else’s, I’ll shoot yours.”

I flushed and spat at him in mock disgust.

“Plenty of men want to marry me.

I’m only afraid you’ll fail to win me and start bawling.”

Pei Qing and I had grown up together, bickering and playing since childhood.

It was the most ordinary kind of banter between us, but I knew he would take my words to heart.

Yet once the contest began, Pei Qing kept aiming at my elder sister’s kite without so much as glancing at mine.

My kite was so conspicuous.

He could not possibly have missed it.

I watched several arrows skim past it.

I grew anxious that someone else might shoot it down.

I had no choice but to let it climb higher and higher, beyond everyone’s reach.

Then, without warning, the string in my hand snapped.

The kite swayed as it fell—and landed on the Crown Prince, who had set his heart on renouncing the world for a Buddhist monastery.

I had been married to Shen Shi’an for eight years, but he still cherished the woman he had never forgotten.

He had grown tired of me, sick of me, finding me dull and vulgar.

When I cooked porridge or simmered soup, I was a woman with no ambition, forever fussing over a stove.

When his beloved washed her hands and made a bowl of soup, she was gentle, considerate, and understanding.

Later, after I had written our divorce agreement, Shen Shi’an traveled all the way to Jiangling to ask me for a bowl of jujube porridge.

I smiled and told him, “We don’t grow jujubes in Jiangling.

I haven’t made it in years.

I’ve quite forgotten how.”

On April 27th, Shen Yichuan wished me a happy birthday.

I was silent for two seconds and nodded.

“I agree to the divorce.”

An awkward look crossed Shen Yichuan’s face.

“That’s not what I meant…”

He paused. “At least not today.”

I just said, “Mm.”

“Then take it as my return gift for your birthday.”

In my dreams, I kept giving myself over to wild passion with a man.

One day, I finally saw his face.

It was Li Jici, the icy Chief Justice of the Court of Judicial Review, a man said to have no interest in women.

When my brother is falsely accused, Li Jici mocks me for begging him for help—yet that very night, the man in my dreams is more passionate than ever.

Only after a drunken guest reveals the peach-shaped birthmark on Li Jici’s chest do I realize the truth: the beautiful dreams we have shared belong to both of us.

Eight months pregnant, Jiang Xingluo is attacked by her husband’s childhood sweetheart and accused of being his mistress.

At the police station, Fu Tingchen tears up their marriage certificate and walks away with the other woman.

He thinks her demand for a divorce is another jealous tantrum.

This time, she means every word.

I knew nothing of the zither, chess, calligraphy, or painting.

Before I married Yu Huaiqian, the matchmaker asked me what I was good at.

I thought for a long while, then said,

“Picking rice.”

The whole room burst into laughter.

Yu Huaiqian laughed too, but there was no mockery in it.

He said, “Being able to pick rice is quite good. A household still has to eat.”

He was a famously refined young gentleman of the capital.

Everyone thought he should have married that childhood sweetheart of his, the one who could compose lyrics.

But he married me.

After the wedding, we each did our part and supported each other.

I asked him if he ever found me dull.

He placed a chopstickful of greens into my bowl. “Dull is good. I’ve heard enough of all that outside.”

I remembered those words for a very long time.

Until his childhood sweetheart broke off her engagement and returned to the capital.

At the Qushui Banquet, she casually recited a single line from a new lyric.

The wine cup in Yu Huaiqian’s hand froze in midair.

After the banquet ended, he sat in the study and filled an entire page with that one line.

I picked up the paper and looked at him. He immediately reached out to snatch it away.

“Don’t look.”

I asked, “Is it so good that I can’t see it?”

He was silent for a moment, then his voice lowered.

“You wouldn’t understand anyway. Why insist on asking?”

Five years into my career, people called me pale, skinny, young-looking, and a fake-innocent schemer.

Meanwhile, my stunt double used me as a stepping stone to climb her way up, becoming wildly popular with an occult persona.

On shows, she told fortunes for celebrities, saying she had learned it from her boyfriend.

That boyfriend she kept talking about was the eldest son of a famous Occult Family.

But when she and I ended up on the same paranormal variety show, her talismans suddenly stopped working.

As for me, right in front of an audience of tens of millions, I took down a whole pack of ghosts with my bare hands.

“You want to be my nephew’s wife? Did you get my permission first?”

Four years ago, Gu Jinzhi, the Crown Prince of the Beijing Circle, fell in love with me at first sight.

After three years of relentless pursuit, I finally gave in.

In the first year of our relationship, he started pestering me to get married.

I was hesitant, but I couldn’t withstand his endless coaxing.

In the end, I brought him home to meet my parents.

But that day, outside the private room, I heard one of his buddies ask him, “You’ve met her parents now. When’s the wedding?”

Gu Jinzhi clicked his tongue and said unhurriedly, “All of a sudden, I don’t want to get married that much anymore.”

Someone beside him jeered, “Oh, stop pretending. You spent three years chasing that untouchable ice queen. You’d really give her up?”

“Ice queen?”

I heard him let out a scoff.

“If you saw how her parents treat her, you’d feel the same way I do.”

“The same how?”

“That she’s nothing special after all.”

On my first day in the Duke of Liang’s household, my stepdaughter threw her ceremonial tea onto the floor, and my stepson threatened to have me cast out.

I drenched her with a teapot and took a ruler to his hand.

When their father asked what had happened, I told him I was merely teaching the children our household’s rules.

Everyone says a stepmother’s lot is hard.

But this household would recognize only one mistress: me.

Xu Jiao built a merchant empire while funding her childhood sweetheart Song Yin’s path into officialdom.

When she catches him courting a powerful princess and learns he expects her to accept life as his concubine, she ends their engagement and turns her full ambition toward business.

Her talent carries her from imperial supplier to a third-rank official, drawing the respect—and carefully restrained affection—of Crown Prince Xiao Jingyi.

But as court factions close in, Xu Jiao must decide whether love behind palace walls can offer partnership instead of confinement.