Revenge

When bandits swept through our village, every man in the family vanished without a trace.

The women, hobbled by their tiny bound feet, could not keep up and were abandoned to die.

Before he left, Father handed Mother a knife.

“If they violate your chastity, use this to kill yourself.”

“When I return, I’ll see you enshrined in the Chaste Women’s Hall.”

After Father left, Mother smashed the memorial tablets in that hall and used the wood to build several beds.

Then she and my sisters-in-law went into business with the bandits.

That night, every woman suffered worse than death.

But every one of us survived.

When Father finally came home, he asked Mother how she wanted to die.

Mother set down the knife, raised a pistol, and aimed it at his head.

In the twelfth year after my rebirth, the first thing I did upon leaving the Xie estate was visit my grave from my former life.

It lay alone in the wilderness, with Qingming as cold as winter and weeds growing ten feet high.

I added a shovelful of fresh earth and told myself, “Ah Lan, don’t look back. Keep walking.”

Sent into a prince’s estate at nine as a future concubine, Lu Sui’an is raised instead as a beloved daughter by the kindhearted Shen Ning.

When a rival consort uses Sui’an’s own hands to murder her guardian, innocence gives way to a patient hunger for justice.

Years later, inside the emperor’s harem, Sui’an turns beauty, loyalty, and palace intrigue against the woman who destroyed them both—but revenge cannot restore the life she loved most.

My family had been physicians for generations. The blood in our veins could be used as medicine to save lives.

One day, the princess who was visiting Yue City for leisure fell from her horse. In her final moments, with blood draining from her body, the prince consort forced my parents to let her drink their blood.

They had checked the princess’s pulse. She was already beyond saving; no amount of blood could turn back death.

The prince consort said, “If one bowl is not enough, then drain every last drop of blood from your bodies and feed it to the princess!”

My parents were held down by government soldiers and bled for an entire night. My six-year-old little sister was also cut open and made into medicine, dying weakly and miserably.

When the princess awoke and heard what had happened, she cooed, “To be able to save my life was their honor in this lifetime.”

They did not know that the divine-doctor family still had an eldest daughter skilled in witch-doctor arts.

Three years later, the princess became pregnant and suffered every kind of discomfort.

I disguised myself as an ordinary female physician and went to serve at her side during the pregnancy.

After my “careful treatment,” the princess gave birth to a male child, only this child had three faces.

I held the baby in my arms and met the terrified eyes of the princess and the prince consort, then smiled.

“The princess’s life was bought with the blood of three people. Now those three have been reborn and come back to find her. What are you afraid of?”

Five years after her elder sister fails to produce an heir, concubine-born Song Yao is forced into the palace as the Song clan’s replacement pawn. With her mother and ailing brother held hostage, she turns the family’s coercion into a weapon, pledging herself to a ruthless emperor while plotting to dismantle the clan that murdered her brothers. In a harem ruled by rival families, every act of devotion is a gambit—and Song Yao intends to survive long enough to claim the board.

A gripping tale of betrayal, revenge, murder mystery, hidden identities, an original wife’s counterattack, and one woman’s awakening.

Qin Jiajia, granddaughter of the renowned painter Qin Mo, loses her womb and then her life in a fire after being betrayed by her husband, Zhong Mingjiang, and his mistress, Luo Xia.

But soon afterward, an anonymous text appears on Luo Xia’s phone.

“A life for a life. Your reckoning is here. Are you ready?”

On his way home from work, Zhong Mingjiang encounters something equally horrifying: photographs of Qin Jiajia’s charred, mutilated body suddenly appear inside his car, along with a blood-soaked uterus on the passenger seat.

Every chilling incident leads back to Qin Jiajia’s death.

Trapped in boundless terror, the cheating husband and his mistress cry out for help, but no one answers….

My best friend is the heroine of a forced-love novel.

The male lead, Gu Beichen, destroyed her career, got her first love killed, and locked her up in a villa like some precious treasure.

I’m the heroine of an angst novel, and I have it even worse than she does.

The male lead, Shen Xingjin, killed my child, cut out my kidney, ruined my entire family, and treated me like a plaything.

My best friend and I wanted to change our fates.

Later, Gu Beichen and Shen Xingjin, those two unhinged male leads, fell in love with each other.

Before I married into the Eastern Palace, I secretly kept a man in Jiangnan behind the Crown Prince’s back.

He had broad shoulders, a narrow waist, and worked hard in bed.

His only flaw was that he bragged far too much.

He was plainly a rough country man, yet he spoke of imperial treasures with utter disdain.

He claimed the Cloud-Mist tea reserved for the imperial family tasted like swill and that he used it to feed his cattle.

Rubies worth a fortune, he said, had been nothing but marbles to him as a child.

Even when I decided to leave him, he kept boasting.

Kneeling at my feet with both arms wrapped around my legs, he begged, “Weiwei, don’t go. I’ll make you Crown Princess!”

I rolled my eyes at him. “I have no interest in being Crown Princess.”

He stared at me in shock and muttered, “Weiwei, how are you even better at bragging than I am?”

Later, I married into the Eastern Palace. I heard the Crown Prince had long cherished another woman in his heart.

Though he had lost his memory, he had remained chaste for her.

He told me coldly, “I do not love you. Expect nothing from me.”

I blinked at that familiar face. Even after he crouched down to wash my feet, he still could not make sense of it.

With an adorably baffled look, he asked, “What’s going on? How come I’m so good at taking care of you?”

Mother ascended to heaven.

She left me two things: an old yellow dog and a manual for cultivating immortality.

Oh, and one promise.

“Whenever someone beats you, shout your mother’s name three times, and I will come save you.”

I never shouted.

Father had seldom used his fists lately; he had heard that girls in our area had suddenly become valuable, and a wounded one would fetch a poor price.

My eldest legitimate sister hanged herself the night before she was to marry into the Eastern Palace.

The Court of Judicial Review’s postmortem report recorded an impossible finding: she was a virgin, yet three months pregnant.

Her baffling death destroyed my family—my mother killed herself, my father went mad, and the once-glorious Pei estate became a house of ghosts overnight.

Ten years later, I became the Court’s only female coroner and pushed open the carved door of my sister’s long-sealed chamber.

There, buried in my memories of that night, I found a truth monstrous enough to overturn everything I believed.