Revenge

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.

When I was eighteen, I didn’t dare push open that door. Behind it, my best friend was playing adult games with the male writer I secretly loved.

I remembered that moment for ten long years. In that decade, my friend died, the writer stopped writing, and my life was ruined.

I respectfully composed a letter and mailed it to the man I had once loved from afar: Chen Song.

My husband cheated on me.

My best friend has it even worse-her husband turned out to be gay.

I was raring to go: “Wanna get revenge?”

She clenched her teeth. “Yeah, let’s do it. Make them suffer.”

So, I swapped the lube with superglue.

She smeared chili extract all over their little toys.

That night,

our husbands ended up glued together, shaped just like the letter H.

I was the widow everyone despised.

One summer night, I went out intending to seduce Censor Zhang, only to be stopped by the Crown Prince.

He bent to my ear and murmured, ‘Aunt, am I not good enough for you?’

Oh, he was good.

Just rather exhausting.

My elder sister and I were twins, born of the same womb.

But an eminent monk declared that I was the reincarnation of a fox demon, and that one day I would become a Wicked Concubine who bewitched the sovereign.

My family concealed my identity and sent me to Fahua Temple to cultivate a pure heart in seclusion.

In the sixteenth year of my quiet practice,

I had almost forgotten I was a demon. I only wanted to be a good person.

But then the Empress, favored above all in the six palaces, had a dream. She dreamed that one day, a woman of the Shen Clan would steal her phoenix throne.

And so my elder sister, who was soon to be married, was taken by bandits and violated again and again before dying an innocent, miserable death.

I held her body in my arms and wept until I had no tears left.

Three months later, the emperor came up the mountain to pray for blessings. The moment he saw me, he fell in love.

He asked if I was willing to follow him back to the palace.

I thought,

That title of Calamitous Demon Concubine… I suppose I ought to make it true.

After dying under the torture of the man she once saved, Lu Shiyi awakens on the day her younger sister frames the penniless scholar Gu Ningcheng.

Armed with memories of her first life, she refuses to play the merciful victim again and sets out to strip Gu Ningcheng and her treacherous sister of every advantage they once used against her.

But destroying her enemies is no longer enough, because Lu Shiyi intends to escape the inner quarters, enter the imperial examinations, and seize the power that women have always been denied.

That dog of an emperor ordered me to marry a young eunuch, and I didn’t even blink before agreeing.

Yet, on the night of the wedding, I was tied up and hauled into the emperor’s bedchamber before I even had the chance to remove my bridal veil.

The third time my parents came to order me to pay my brother’s gambling debts, I tossed a dagger onto the ground.

“Fine.

One finger for a thousand taels.”

As they had so many times before, they cursed and lunged to beat me.

A guard caught them by the backs of their necks and pinned them to the ground.

I raised an eyebrow.

The guard kindly taught them to kowtow.

“Repeat after me—We greet Her Highness, the noble consort.”

At the Immortal Trials, Zhao Fuqu glimpses a future in which Shen Du, the master she once trusted, accuses her of colluding with demons and executes her.

Determined to escape that fate, she kneels before the sect’s most useless elder instead—only to awaken a sharp-tongued divine sword and a path to power, revenge, and a destiny of her own.

While carving the demon king’s core from his body, Zhao Fuqu is dragged into a chain of illusions built from the past of her supposedly useless master.

She witnesses Fu Ning—the first child of destiny—sacrifice himself for the Changheng Sect, then endure three brutal reincarnations for defying the Heavenly Dao.

Shen Du insists that fate cannot be changed, but Zhao Fuqu refuses to stand by while the people she cares about are sacrificed for the sect’s glory.