Short story

In my previous life, before my elder sister entered the palace to become empress, she bent her head to tell me, “Ah Ting, when I’m gone, you must take care of yourself.”

I promised her through my tears.

Five years later, the empress fell out of favor.

Her enemies had her raped, and that night she hanged herself.

The emperor decreed that the deposed empress of the Meng family was without virtue.

No one in the capital was permitted to wear mourning white.

I went to beg forgiveness on behalf of the Meng family.

Struck by my beauty, His Majesty took me into the palace, where I became the most favored woman in his harem.

The day I dragged him into the flames to die with me, he closed his hands around my throat in a rage.

“I have treated your family well!

For your sake, I even overlooked that defiled, deposed empress!”

I let the fire climb over me as though I could feel nothing.

“I didn’t.”

When I woke again, it was the day my sister entered the palace.

She stroked my head, then turned toward the palace that devoured people.

I stripped off my fine clothes and jewelry, then turned toward the bloodshed of an army camp.

Let us see whether that imperial bastard would still dare call her “deposed empress” when I surrounded his palace with my army.

When my beloved childhood friend publicly humiliated me, my own sister called it harmless fun.

I answered by turning his joke into a scandal that swept the capital.

After years in exile, I returned unwilling to bend—to my scheming sister, her five doting brothers, or the prince who treated my marriage as a bargaining chip.

They expected a disgraced noblewoman they could sacrifice.

Instead, I used every plot against them, exposed every betrayal, and chose to break before I bowed.

After being passed over for promotion yet again, Cheng Ying discovers that her secret boyfriend of twelve years, Lu Siming, personally vetoed her while openly favoring another employee.

When he denies their relationship in front of the whole company, she quits, leaves him, and rebuilds her career in Hong Kong.

Two years later, Lu Siming returns as a client, determined to win her back—but Cheng Ying has finally learned that choosing herself means refusing to live in a world where her love must remain hidden.

In the year when I was at my most spineless, the Noble Consort called me oversensitive.

That very night, I took a rope to her bedchamber, intending to hang myself beside her bed.

Fortunately, she found me in time and rescued me in tears.

Later, a beauty newly arrived at the palace called me as stupid as a pig.

I said nothing.

I simply took out my rope.

The Noble Consort said nothing either.

She just kept slapping her.

“Even I daren’t scold her.

Who do you think you are?”

When a grotesque mass of “immortal flesh” falls from heaven, the emperor declares it a divine gift and distributes it among the realm’s most powerful families.

Lady Yan refuses to eat it after receiving a warning written in her father’s blood, only to watch her household descend into ravenous horror.

Fleeing a plague of man-eating monsters with her young brother-in-law Wen Ge, she races toward the ruined capital in search of her father—and the truth.

The flesh may indeed grant immortality, but only if they survive long enough to learn how.

Our youngest sister had the part of the girl everyone adored.

My master and all six of my fellow male disciples were destined to cherish her as dearly as their own lives.

I was the vicious supporting character.

I would fight her for magical treasures and men, frame her, humiliate her, and bully her.

In the end, my master would rip out my immortal bones, my senior brother would cut out my immortal core, and my junior brothers would throw me into a demon pit to be tortured to death.

But after I fell into the Waters of Sin, I woke up to the truth.

Instead of storming back to our sect to confront her, as the story demanded, I took on six female disciples on my master’s behalf, all in one go.

Every one of them was beautiful, lively, and quick-witted.

I brought them back to the sect.

Our youngest sister became Eighth Sister.

On our wedding night, my husband told me something plainly.

His heart belonged to Concubine Song, and there could never be anything between him and me.

I was not to use my position as the lady of the household to make Concubine Song’s life difficult.

Furious, I tore off my bridal veil and gave him two choices.

Either we went to his parents together and asked what exactly they meant by arranging this marriage.

Or he brought Concubine Song to me so the three of us could settle matters face-to-face.

He feared I would bully his beloved concubine, while I feared she would use his favor to humiliate his lawful wife.

After a brief hesitation, my husband chose to summon her.

The three of us sat down and agreed on three rules.

First, Concubine Song was never to set foot in my main courtyard, and anything that happened if she did would be her own responsibility; the same rule applied to me.

Second, since my husband refused to consummate our marriage that night, we would never share a bed for the rest of our lives.

Third, if his parents pressed us for an heir, he would deal with them, and if I suffered punishment or loss because of it, he would compensate me.

My husband’s face turned glacial as he signed the agreement in a fury.

From that day on, he never entered my room again.

Concubine Song basked in her victory and laughed at me for giving up the finest man in the world.

The two of them settled into their sweet little romance.

I was too busy building a life of my own to spare them a thought.

But three years later, my husband stepped into my courtyard with an uneasy look on his face.

I knew at once that he regretted everything-and that he wanted to sleep with me.

I said calmly, “Let’s divorce.”

I posted a Moments update visible only to Song Mingqi and waited until three in the morning without a reply.

I messaged him privately: “Asleep?”

He sent back a smiley face: “Dead.”

I stared at the screen.

Could this seasoned fake-innocent schemer really be so rattled that he had dropped the act?

“Did you swallow dynamite or something?”

Three smiley faces in a row: “Yeah.

It kept me up till three.”

Xu Jiao built a merchant empire while funding her childhood sweetheart Song Yin’s path into officialdom.

When she catches him courting a powerful princess and learns he expects her to accept life as his concubine, she ends their engagement and turns her full ambition toward business.

Her talent carries her from imperial supplier to a third-rank official, drawing the respect—and carefully restrained affection—of Crown Prince Xiao Jingyi.

But as court factions close in, Xu Jiao must decide whether love behind palace walls can offer partnership instead of confinement.

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.