Revenge

My mistress prides herself on being a virtuous wife, even as she forces her husband’s bedmaids to drink mercury-laced contraceptive draughts.

When one girl dies and another is sold, my mistress chooses me as the next woman for her husband’s bed.

She does not know that I was once a modern physician—or that I have stopped waiting for mercy.

If this household refuses to recognize its servants as people, I will teach its masters the price of treating women as things.

The day I went to visit Duan Yujing on set, he openly skipped work to meet a popular young actress at a hotel.

When the intimate photos reached me, everyone on set watched my expression with nervous care.

I hardly cared. My attention had already been captured by a young man in the corner who looked somewhat like Duan Yujing.

Lunch was being served, and the cook gave him an extra lion’s-head meatball.

His eyes curved as he smiled with unguarded delight.

I studied him. “Who is he?”

In the third year of my secret marriage to a top celebrity, I visited him on set and found his assistant hand-washing his underwear.

He was playing video games.

When I tried to fold his clothes, his assistant shoved me aside. “Let me handle his clothes, sis. You don’t know how he likes them. He can’t get by without me.”

The suds on her hands splashed across my brand-new Chanel.

My celebrity husband explained from the sidelines, “Li always does it. Just let her.”

All at once, I said, “Let’s get a divorce.”

He froze.

His assistant had to fight harder to suppress her grin than the recoil on an AK.

I had no choice.

I was pregnant, and this four-person marriage was getting rather crowded.

Both the Crown Prince and the Grand General wished to marry me.

I hated the intrigue of the Eastern Palace, so I chose the Grand General who had sworn that I would be the only woman in his life.

Yet on our wedding night, his female deputy lured him out of the bridal chamber with a single flask of wine.

Still dressed in my wedding robes, I listened to their moans through the wall for half the night.

When the rain became a downpour, I threw on a cloak and knocked on the Eastern Palace gate under cover of darkness.

At the Crown Prince’s astonished expression, I gave a bitter smile.

“Your Highness.”

“Tell me—if a woman suddenly thinks of another man on her own wedding night…”

“Isn’t that ridiculous?”

Artifact-conservation student Lin Fu wakes in the body of the lowest-ranking maid in the imperial harem, where saving a priceless cup brings her to the attention of Emperor Qin Zhi.

Protected by the kind Empress Shen Chenxiang, she finds purpose restoring paintings, porcelain, and other damaged treasures inside a palace that destroys people far more easily than objects.

After tragedy takes her benefactor, Lin Fu is pulled into a dangerous struggle among the Emperor, the Shen clan, and the Yan clan.

To avenge the dead and protect the children entrusted to her, she must survive as the Emperor’s favored consort without allowing the harem to turn her into another weapon.

From shattered porcelain to broken friendships, every relic she repairs reveals a history of love, betrayal, and the things no pair of clever hands can ever restore.

By the year 3026, society’s race to the bottom had accelerated beyond control.

Pregnancy ruined a woman’s career prospects, so I had my uterus removed to improve my chances of finding work.

HR rejected me anyway.

The reason was simple.

“I’m sorry, but you have a twelve-hour gap in your employment history. That’s far too long.”

My best friend stumbled into a suicide game, and it shattered her worldview.

Talk one person into killing themselves, and you were guaranteed at least ten thousand yuan.

Sell “suicide merchandise,” and you earned a twenty-percent cut.

The merchandise included death-scene photos, bloodstained clothes, ongoing reports on the victim’s family, and more.

My righteous best friend worked tirelessly for a month…

and managed to talk eight of the game’s chat groups into disbanding.

The people behind it lost their minds. “Wasn’t she diagnosed as an extremely rare antisocial personality during testing? How did she turn into a saint?”

Had it ever occurred to them that she wasn’t the one who took the test?

I was.

And as someone with that exceedingly rare antisocial personality, I preferred making my own rules.

I stayed beside Xie Chen from the days when he had nothing until he became a wealthy man, only to discover his affair seven days before our wedding.

He expected me to forgive him, protect his company, and leave our marriage with nothing, but I had built his success with my own hands and knew exactly how to take my life back.

While his first love fought to become Mrs. Xie, I divorced him, sold my shares at a premium, and founded a company of my own.

By the time their so-called true love collapsed under greed, debt, and betrayal, I had already learned that the best time to call off a bad marriage is the moment you see it clearly.

Mother always said that if a woman wanted to stay radiant, she had to know how to nourish herself.

Ginseng and deer antler were useless.

What truly nourished a woman was a young, vigorous man.

Following that regimen, she still looked sixteen well into her forties.

Having grown up under her influence, I understood the secret by the time I turned eighteen.

Scholars were lean, generals solid, actors charming.

I had sampled them all.

The one I found most intoxicating was Shen Zhaoye.

I lavished mountains of gold and silver on him, yet never so much as put an arm around his waist.

Then he came to take his leave, claiming he had found a more powerful patron.

Furious, I followed him by lantern light into Springwater Lane.

When I kicked open the door, he was kneeling beside a couch, offering tea to someone.

The beauty reclining there lifted her eyes lazily.

My lantern went out, and my soul nearly fled with the flame.

“Mother?! You’re sleeping with my man?”

Lady Wang and I went into labor on the same day.

She bore a son, while I bore a daughter.

When I awoke, lines of floating comments suddenly appeared in the air.

[The supporting woman is going to die of rage when she finds out the emperor switched her son for some stray girl.]

[With a family like hers, do you think the emperor would ever have risked letting her get pregnant if it weren’t for our precious Lulu?]

[The emperor is willing to corrupt the imperial bloodline for Lulu. The god of pure love has fallen!]

The next moment, Pei Yangxi carried the baby girl to my bedside.

“Ah Ci, look how adorable our child is.”