Obsessive Love

During the first week of the semester, I frequently dreamed of two men. Both of them claimed to be my boyfriend.

I woke up every morning with my entire body aching, so I went to see a psychiatrist.

“It’s just too much stress. Don’t be nervous.”

He gave me a mild smile and prescribed some medication. “Take these, and you’ll fall asleep much earlier.”

Later, I realized the dreams were only getting longer.

In the dream, the other man pinned my hands down and chuckled.

“I told you to keep the dosage small. If it lasts too long, she won’t be able to handle it.”

Pei Qi traded cities for a beauty, a grand gesture that became a legendary romance. Unfortunately, I was not that beauty, nor was I Pei Qi; I didn’t even know him.

My husband was merely a soldier defending the city. Because he refused to surrender, he died in that war, though the city was ultimately held.

The following year, when Pei Qi traded cities for his beauty, I became that beauty’s Foot-washing Maid.

[Horror Romance + damp, unhinged, obsessive male leads with lots of strange quirks + dark otome vibe]

When Qiu Rongrong met Zhou Jingxing, she thought she could start over. Later, she realized it had only been an illusion.

The gentle “older brother” tore off his disguise and revealed his cruelty. The boy at school who always seemed to protect her turned out to be the one driving the violence. The murderer’s son took her hand and said he would save her-help her escape.

They all said she should atone.

But in this grand, feverish revel, she was the only innocent survivor.

She tried to claw her way out of the mire, to struggle up onto solid ground-only for them to drag her back down into the mud.

Her beginning with him started with deception.

“Remember what fear tastes like. I don’t just want you dead-I want you to die in agony.”

Her ending with him finally came from sincerity.

“Love is the most twisted form of revenge. If you hate me, then use love as your blade-drive it straight into my heart.”

0

My sister is dead. She committed suicide for a man.

When I was sorting through her belongings, I found a pair of handcuffs and some photographs.

In the photos, she was completely naked, her body covered in bruises.

A rush of blood surged through me, my whole body turned cold, and I was instantly overwhelmed by an indescribable terror and confusion.

But I didn’t know yet that the person who started all this had no intention of stopping.

And I was his next target.

I’ve spent five years trying to win Shi Juan’s heart.

As long as he proposed to me on my birthday, I would have been allowed to stay in this world.

But I waited until the early hours of the morning, and only then did the System’s voice finally ring out.

[It is all over.]

[Shi Juan’s “white moonlight” returned today. He has been with her this entire time.]

After staying by my side for so long, the System decided to grant me one final request.

It would let me choose the manner of my death.

Fine. Since I have to leave sooner or later anyway…

I want to die right in front of Shi Juan.

I want him to kill me with his own hands.

And then, I want him to regret it for the rest of his life.

I was known for being a good girl. During our five years together, no matter how Liang Yansheng played around behind my back, I obediently endured it all.

Until that day, when I found a pair of stockings and a set of lingerie in his hotel suite that didn’t belong to me.

He didn’t show a hint of guilt at being caught. Instead, he just gave a lazy smile. “Be a good girl and go check out of the room for me.”

His friends were all placing bets on how long I could hold out this time.

Liang Yansheng rested his chin on his hand, sounding indifferent. “She’s such a good girl. She’ll settle down in a couple of days.”

He expected me to be just like before, begging him with puppy-dog eyes not to leave.

What Liang Yansheng didn’t know was that once a good girl like me reaches marriageable age, we always listen to our parents.

And so, while he was riding high on his own arrogance, I gathered my courage and asked the handsome man at my blind date: “If the child takes my last name, can you accept that?”

My mother-in-law’s secret identity has been exposed.

I accidentally discovered that she is actually a legendary author of Stepmother Literature.

And my husband is her stepson.

Chapter 0

On April Fool’s Day, a pregnancy test with two distinct red lines fell out of my coat pocket.

I turned to my wife in surprise. “Are you pregnant with our second child?”

Her voice was flat. “Chen Wei, we haven’t had sex in six months.”

I froze for a second before quickly spinning a lie.

“It’s a prank prop! It’s April Fool’s Day, I was just messing with you. Gotcha, didn’t I?”

As soon as I stepped out of the house, I called my mistress to demand answers.

If she was pregnant, she needed to get an abortion immediately.

She had a worse temper than I did and denied it outright.

What a joke.

I only had two women in my life, and neither of them was pregnant.

Was this pregnancy test supposed to be mine?

I finally plucked up the courage to drug my brother.

Unexpectedly, I wasn’t very tired that night, but I ended up falling into a deep sleep myself and didn’t wake up until dawn the next day.

The second time.

I mustered my courage and tried to drug him again.

Once more, I slept like a log until morning.

When I woke up, my brother was in the kitchen cooking.

The bright morning sun shone on him, making his hair appear almost pale gold.

Hearing me move, he turned around and flashed me a smile.

He looked like an angel descending from heaven.

“Zhiyu.”

“I made your favorite pumpkin pancakes.”

Clutching my aching conscience, I drugged him for the third time that night.

And once again, I enjoyed the sleep of a baby.

-I finally began to suspect my brother.

I’ve read so many novels about the “crematorium” trope-where the husband has to crawl back and beg for forgiveness-but I never expected to find myself starring in one.

Except there’s no chasing, only the crematorium.

Because I’m actually dead.

I’ve become a ghost, watching the man who betrayed me. Seven days after my death, he finally seems crushed by a delayed sense of grief. In the home I can never return to, he howls in agony, acting as if life is no longer worth living.

You want to know how I feel?

I just stand there blankly, carefully admiring every inch of pain etched onto his face.

I listen intently to his desperate wails, triggered by my departure.

Beyond the desolation and heartache in my soul, a massive wave of schadenfreude suddenly wells up within me.

A joyful, blissful sense of schadenfreude.

It’s a sensation so sharp it borders on thrill. I cover my mouth and begin to laugh.