Secret Identity

For three years after I entered the Eastern Palace as a concubine, I had never even seen the Crown Prince.

I took it in stride. After all, I was face-blind.

If I mistook someone else for the Crown Prince and committed a capital offense, I would rather have no favor at all.

But after so long without his favor, even my food, clothing, and daily expenses became a problem.

To live a little better, I simply found three lovers to support me.

Zhang San worked in the Imperial Kitchen and could always bring me plenty of delicious food.

Li Si guarded the Garment Bureau and often sent me beautiful clothes.

As for Wang Wu, he was a skilled craftsman in the workshops. Every time we met, he gave me some clever new toy.

Lately, though, all three of them seemed short on money.

So I began thinking that I should try to please the Crown Prince and ask for some rewards to help support them.

I had no idea my boss was a famous fanfic author, one with excellent prose, thrilling plots, and a perfectly balanced diet of content.

And I was one of his top-paying readers.

His new story was a complete departure from his usual style: an utterly squeaky-clean original novel.

I happily topped up my account to buy the chapters, but the more I read, the more I realized the dense, romance-impaired heroine was a lot like me.

The only difference was that the male lead was a shy, innocent, introverted herbivore-type boss whose little inner commentary was ridiculously cute.

He was nothing like my real-life boss, who barely spoke, had a severe case of germophobia, and was an absolute menace.

Later…

The author posted in the comments: “≧◇≦ Thank you all for your support. I-I-I’ve decided to be brave and confess!!! >_<”

Magnanimously, I sent the author a huge gift. “Go for it! Be brave, author! Fear no hardship!”

The very next second, my cold-faced, frowning boss walked out of his office and stopped in front of me, his face bright red.

Me: “?”

The school bully tormented me at school, then followed me home and, right in front of me, slammed Ah Huang, the puppy who had grown up by my side, to death.

But the bully didn’t know I was the Daughter of the Underworld King.

Seizing souls was an ability I had been born with.

The next day, the bully acted completely out of character at school. One by one, he beat up everyone who had ever picked on me.

Then he announced in front of everyone that from now on, he would protect me forever.

When no one was around, I reached up and patted his head. “Good boy, Ah Huang. This body is pretty useful, isn’t it?”

I’m a fanfic writer with nearly a million followers on Big-Eyed Guy.

My OTP? A wildly popular young actress and a famous up-and-coming director.

Soon, self-media accounts across the entire internet would be required to register under their real names, and verified influencers with over a million followers would be the first batch to go public.

The moment I got wind of it, I deleted my account and ran.

Because I was that wildly popular young actress.

But netizens loved drama far too much to let it go. They started posting gossip threads across every major social media platform: Girl, who the hell are you?

I’m the number one antique appraisal streamer on the entire internet.

Because I’m good at what I do, have a terrible temper, and always look like I rolled out of a dumpster, netizens jokingly call me “Mei Chaofeng.”

It’s perfectly normal for viewers who join my livestream to get roasted by me.

“Sister Chao, how do I turn on my camera?”

“Figure it out yourself. You’ve got two eggs hanging under your eyebrows, but all they do is blink instead of see.”

“Sister Chao, what do I do if I can’t switch screens?”

“You’re a living, breathing person. Don’t tell me you’re going to let a piss break kill you. Just go be stupid somewhere else.”

“Sister Chao, does this look authentic?”

“Calling that garbage would be an insult to waste sorting.”

Until the person who connected with me was a pure, handsome hunk with the sweetest, softest little vibe.

His face flushed red as he held up a pile of “junk,” fumbling all over the place.

“Sister… I’m sorry… I couldn’t figure out how to flip the camera.”

And there I was, chin propped in my hand, smiling as gentle as could be.

“It’s okay. It doesn’t matter if you don’t know how. I’ll teach you, okay? No rush.”

The viewers in the livestream couldn’t sit still anymore.

[Did she just change faces???]

[Double-Standard Sister!!!]

After I found out the handsome guy’s family had gone bankrupt and he’d been forced to become a male model, I verbally advised him to get out of that line of work as soon as possible.

In my heart, however, I was already calculating how to get my hands on him for a little fun.

But later, the “junk” he took out turned out to be more valuable than the last.

Among them, that emerald gemstone haunted my every thought.

The pitiful little thing transformed into a noble young master. He loomed over me, trapping me in the corner of the bed.

The outer corner of his eye, marked with a tear mole, curved slightly as his predatory gaze swept inch by inch over my skin.

At his fair throat, the emerald swayed gently.

“Give me what I want, Sister, and I’ll give you what you want.”

My younger sister gave birth to a son in the Eastern Palace.

I brought a fortune in family wealth and cartloads of rare medicinal pills with me to the palace to visit her.

The moment she saw me, she nestled into my arms and began to cry, tears falling one after another.

Her movements were intimate, her voice soft and spoiled. There was not the slightest trace of distance or unfamiliarity between us.

And yet my entire body went rigid, a chill crawling up my spine and sinking into my heart.

Because the face before me, identical to my sister’s in every way,

was not the dead woman’s skin I had sewn onto her with my own hands.

In the dead of night, only after I let out a satisfied sigh did Wei Che gently roll off me.

He had been putting in so much effort lately that I figured he was probably about to leave me.

With a faint sigh, I turned over and went to sleep.

After all, everyone knew it.

I was the most useless kind of lovesick fool.

When the sky wanted to rain and a man wanted to leave, what could I possibly do about it?

Beg him bitterly? Threaten suicide and make a scene?

That was what a real lovesick fool would do.

But I was a fake.

A long time ago, I had already understood one simple truth-

Everyone despised a lovesick fool.

Pretending to be one, however, was the advanced strategy.

At my elder sister’s engagement banquet, the man who was meant to become my brother-in-law suddenly turned to propose to me instead.

“Wrong. I wish to marry the Second Miss.”

Everyone was thrown off by this turn of events, not knowing how to react, but once they recovered they forced a smile and congratulated me.

Only my elder sister came to find me late at night. “In a past life, he and I spent over fifty years together. It was only after I married him that I learned there was another woman he loved.”

“For those fifty years, we fought constantly because of that woman, until we grew to despise each other. If you don’t want to marry him, sister can help you reject this match.”

But I declined her kindness and still intended to marry him.

I have no romantic feelings for him. Whether he loved one woman or several was something my elder sister cared about; I did not.

On my wedding day, my twin sister knocked me unconscious and locked me in the basement.

Then she impersonated me and married my fiancé.

“From today on, your man is mine.” Her eyes were filled with sheer determination.

She left in such a hurry

that she didn’t notice I had stopped breathing in the darkness.

In the two years since my wedding, my husband had never once come home.

Lonely beyond endurance, I bought a convicted slave to warm my bed.

He was certainly diligent between the sheets, but as a person, he was far too vain.

My purse couldn’t take it, so I simply kept him on a poor man’s budget.

Unable to stomach a life of coarse tea and plain meals, he roared, “I don’t want to be your husband anymore!”

Puzzled, I said, “I’m already married. You’re just my kept man.”

His eyes went bloodshot as he gnashed his teeth. “You’re this broke, and you’re still trying to keep a lover on the side like everyone else?!”

And with that, we went our separate ways.

I packed my things and returned to the capital, where I heard that my long-missing brother-in-law had finally come back.

He was kneeling in the ancestral hall and had been given ten lashes.

My mother-in-law was so furious she cursed, “You actually fell for a married woman! Have you no shame at all?!”

I hurried forward to plead on his behalf.

To my surprise, my brother-in-law turned his head, looked at me, and slowly smiled. “Sister-in-law, have you been well?”

I was stunned.

Wasn’t this my vain, status-obsessed kept man?!