Second Chance

The day I married into the Gu marquis’s household, my father-in-law died and my mother-in-law fell ill.

The wedding feast became a funeral banquet, and I was forced to take charge in the midst of the crisis, assuming control of the household and carrying the funeral through with composure.

My husband thanked me for preserving the Gu family’s dignity, yet never set foot in my room again.

In time, he filled the household with concubines and fathered a brood of sons and daughters by them.

I raised them conscientiously and planned for their futures.

Then I overheard my husband speaking to them behind my back.

“I have never met anyone as coldhearted as your mother. Your grandfather died, and she did not shed a single tear. You may call her Mother, but never learn from her. She is unworthy of the name.”

By then, a physician had already told me I did not have long to live.

Not one of those children came to visit me or bring me medicine; they simply left me to die.

With my last strength, I set fire to the Gu residence and burned that cold, loveless place to the ground.

When I opened my eyes again, I had been reborn.

The Gu family came to propose marriage, and as I looked at the refined, handsome man before me, we spoke the same words at the same time.

“I refuse.”

It turned out I was not the only one who had returned.

When my elder brother returned to the capital after investigating a case, he brought back two Liuxian Skirts, one blue-green and one pink.

He first asked my eldest sister which one she liked.

When it was my turn, my brother smiled gently.

“Pink is delicate, and it suits your complexion too. Do you like it?”

If I didn’t, there would be nothing left for me.

I nodded and took it.

Later, when choosing tutors and selecting study companions, it was always the same.

It was no different on the day we were to choose our husbands.

The Crown Prince won my eldest sister’s hand, looking thoroughly pleased with himself.

The Third Prince was crushed. He pointed at me at random.

“Then the Second Miss it is.”

After we married, the Third Prince regretted it a little.

But he was a good man.

He was willing to hand over management of the household to me, and he took no concubines.

Even when my eldest sister and I fell from our horses on the same day, he was the one who risked his life to save me.

At the very end, he touched my brow bone and let out a long sigh.

“Even if all I can ask for is a resemblance, so be it. In this life, I sought the highest, and in the end got only what was second-best.”

And so, when I was given a second chance at life, at the banquet where husbands were chosen,

I covered my brows and eyes and answered the Third Prince in a muffled voice.

“Yinyin already has someone she loves.”

Crown Prince Bai Xiuzhu had been afflicted with the Southern Border Love-Forgetting Gu.

Every time he clawed his way back from the brink of death, he would forget the person he loved most. The first time, he forgot his mother.

The second time, he forgot the marriage vows we had exchanged before Heaven and Earth at the border.

The third time-after I had slit my wrists to feed him my blood and save his life-he sat high atop his throne in the Hall of Golden Chimes and personally marked my death warrant with a stroke of vermilion ink.

During the year of our purest love, Chen Ming and I shared a kiss in front of everyone when we won the Zhengfa Cup debate competition.

But later, when our son was diagnosed with autism, we both came to regret it.

After ten years of love, the wear and tear of life had transformed us from a match made in heaven into a pair of bitter rivals.

Time skipped forward to our son’s fifth birthday.

Chen Ming and I were in the car, arguing once again over our child’s illness.

Right in front of our son, we cursed each other, screaming for the other to drop dead.

The next second, an out-of-control heavy truck barreled toward us.

Chen Ming went against his instincts and jerked the steering wheel to the right, but the violent impact swallowed all the shouting and cursing anyway.

When I woke up again, we were back on the day we won the Zhengfa Cup.

This time, facing a stadium full of cheering and jeering, we pretended we barely knew each other.

By the time the Female Lead appeared, I was already pregnant with Zhou Shiyu’s child.

I failed to fight against fate. He once risked everything to break off his engagement with her for my sake, but eventually, he grew to hate me to his very core. Even a single glance at me filled him with nothing but disgust.

Finally, I grew tired of it all. I let go of our tangled emotions and even gave up on the child.

It wasn’t until an evening six years later.

A young child knocked on my door.

With a stern, stoic expression that mimicked an adult, he said, “My dad doesn’t want me anymore. Can I stay with you?”

My elder sister disappeared when she was little, but fortune favored her: the Yong’an Marquis household took her in and raised her with every comfort.

By the time she returned to us, our mother had already arranged one marriage for her, while the marquis household had promised her to someone else.

One man was the adoptive brother who had grown up beside her; the other, her childhood betrothed.

Unable to let either go, she proposed a compromise: she would marry whichever man found the jade hairpin she hid.

The day she hid hers, however, she hid mine as well.

In my last life, Wei Heng found a hairpin first, but the one in his hand belonged to me.

The smile had barely touched his lips when her adoptive brother said coldly, “You cannot even recognize Ah Zhi’s hairpin. I suppose that leaves you no choice but to marry Ranran.”

After we married, every quarrel between my sister and her husband sent her running to Wei Heng in tears.

His heart ached for her, and his old regret never faded.

“If you had married me,” he would murmur, “I would never have made you cry. Not even once.”

I found them together beneath the moon, composing poems, and side by side among the spring blossoms.

Whenever I showed the slightest displeasure, Wei Heng called me jealous and narrow-minded, saying I could never match my sister’s poetry or painting.

Now I had returned to the day Wei Heng picked up my hairpin.

I held out my hand.

“Young Master Wei, Mother is already considering matches for me. Please return my hairpin.”

I had lived with the Shen family for eighteen years when they suddenly told me I was a fake heiress.

The real heiress wept and begged my adoptive parents to throw me out because the mere sight of me upset her.

My biological mother grabbed my hand and ran, terrified that my adoptive parents might try to stop us.

After all, we both knew the apocalypse was coming.

My mother had farmland, a house, a little grocery store, and even a storage dimension in the countryside—not a pile of useless numbers in a bank account.

Jiang Yerao is young, beautiful, naïve, and proud. Even though she knows Ruan Pingshan is only willing to give her money and affection, not an official place by his side, she stays with him because she likes him too much. While enjoying the sweetness of being spoiled, she is also stung by the realities of class differences, marriage, and her own self-respect. Little by little, she realizes that being nothing more than a pampered canary can never truly put her at his side.

With the encouragement of her friends and the push of her career, Jiang Yerao goes from relying on Ruan Pingshan to running her own buyer’s boutique. She learns how to judge people’s intentions, protect herself, and rethink both love and independence. Meanwhile, through her transformation, Ruan Pingshan gradually lets go of his fear of marriage and family relationships and begins to face his own feelings. The two of them pull against each other, misunderstand each other, and test each other along the way, until in the end, they choose each other in a more equal and open-hearted way.

Ever since I was little, I had been slow and lacking in wit, while Elder Sister was extraordinarily gifted.

At a poetry gathering held at Marquis Manor, she was afraid I would embarrass myself, so in private, she composed a poem for me.

None of us expected that the true purpose of the gathering was to choose a wife for the Second Young Master of Marquis Manor. And the poem she wrote for me was the very one that caught the Second Young Master’s eye.

Later, I married into Marquis Manor.

After the wedding, Pei You discovered just how dull and ignorant I truly was.

Only then did he realize I was not the person who had written that poem that day.

Pei You resented me, blamed me, despised me.

He said his wife should not be someone like me, a woman with nothing but a pretty face and not a drop of learning inside her.

Whenever we were intimate, he would lean close to my ear and mock me, saying I had none of the dignified bearing of a proper main wife, only a body full of vixenish allure that was of some small use in bed.

I was terrified.

So when I returned to the day of that poetry gathering, I stopped Elder Sister before she could write a poem for me. My voice trembled as I said,

“Thank you, Elder Sister, but there is no need.”

The year I turned eight, I was trampled to death beneath the Crown Prince’s horse.

His guards paid my parents one tael of silver to make the matter go away.

My parents did not even retrieve my body; they took the money with ingratiating smiles and said, “For our daughter to die beneath His Highness’s horse is a blessing she could never have hoped for.”

Before my first seven days of mourning were over, Father divorced Mother and took another wife.

Mother remarried with every appearance of joy.

It seemed they had forgotten me.

Later, just as I was about to be reincarnated, Father and Mother dragged the Crown Prince to my grave and made him pay for my death with his own.