Short story

On the day my only daughter was born, the Marchioness of Zhenbei gave birth to a son in the Hall of Mental Cultivation.

At dawn, Shen Chizhou brought me her child and exchanged him for mine.

When I caught him, he merely raised his eyes and said, “The child born of Wan and me must be raised in the palace.”

Song Wan was the great love he had lost in his youth.

Now that she had borne him a child, he meant to make amends to mother and son at any cost.

The cost was my daughter becoming the young lady of the Marquis of Zhenbei’s household.

She went from an exalted imperial princess to the daughter of a mere court official.

After a long silence, I neither wept nor protested.

Instead, I lifted my face and smiled in approval.

“As it should be.”

After all, a child ought to be raised beside her real father.

I transmigrated into the story as the male lead’s sex-crazed wife. Every day, I pestered him to do it with me, endlessly demanding and never knowing restraint.

The couch, the bedroom, the kitchen, the floor-to-ceiling windows…

Only when the hatred value soared to 99 did I realize in horror that I hadn’t transmigrated into a smut novel at all, but a clean romance!

Su Yu was actually the kind of male lead who was cold and abstinent when it came to sex!

From then on, I lived in constant fear, treading on eggshells and never daring to cling to him again. As soon as night fell, I’d head to a hotel and not come home.

I even took the initiative to ask for a divorce.

I hoped it would make him hate me a little less.

But the man finally snapped. Eyes red, he erupted and locked me down in a pathologically unrestrained grip, every word crazed:

“Why don’t you cling to me anymore?”

“Is it because I’m getting old, or because that XL one outside has already satisfied your appetite?”

My father had held the imperial court in his grip for years.

He sent me into the palace and forced the emperor to take me as his empress.

On our wedding day, the young emperor and I came to blows.

With bloody scratches across his face, he swore, “Xiao Lingyue, I will wipe out your entire clan. Just wait!”

For six years, I strutted through the palace and clashed with him at every turn—until my father’s rebellion failed…

The day the bandages came off my eyes, he never showed up; instead, I received a message from his childhood sweetheart.

“You may have saved him, but don’t try to hold it over his head. He doesn’t have time to pick you up, so make your own way home.”

I called him, only for him to hang up the instant his phone rang.

When I finally saw him again three days later, he demanded to know why I had sent such a message to slander his precious childhood sweetheart.

I watched the aura of fortune above his head hemorrhage away.

Suddenly, accepting that I was the heroine of a melodramatic angst novel did not seem so difficult after all.

My father was a professor at a prestigious university, and my mother held a doctorate in literature.

But only my older sister inherited their brilliant genes.

As for me, all I could do was chant “Makka Pakka,” the bitter little gourd their family tree had produced.

When my parents divorced, my sister chose Dad.

“I don’t want a retarded little sister,” she said.

I turned to Mom. “Be happy, Mommy. Makka Pakka!”

Luckily, Mom took my advice: she happily quit her job and started a company.

Years later, Dad nearly drove my genius sister out of her mind.

And I, still Makka-Pakka-ing my way through life, became the daughter of a millionaire.

By the year 3026, society’s race to the bottom had accelerated beyond control.

Pregnancy ruined a woman’s career prospects, so I had my uterus removed to improve my chances of finding work.

HR rejected me anyway.

The reason was simple.

“I’m sorry, but you have a twelve-hour gap in your employment history. That’s far too long.”

In college, I once “bought” myself a girlfriend.

If she agreed to be with me, I would cover her family’s medical bills.

Humiliated, the brilliant scholarship student from a poor family stayed with me for four years.

Then my family went bankrupt.

When I broke up with her, she was as cold as ever. She did not ask me to stay—not even once.

Years later, I was serving fruit platters at a karaoke club to pay off my family’s debts. She had become a CEO and was dating the handsome star from our class.

She asked me, “Do you regret it?”

“No.”

“Well, I do.”

After failing my mission, I returned to my own world.

I married and had another child.

Then, seven years later, the System found me.

“Your former target’s mental state has become dangerously unstable.

“And your first son keeps demanding to see you.

“Host, could you go back and visit them?”

My father drowned while building a bridge for the village.

Our stepmother beat and berated us, and everyone thought she treated us terribly.

Years later, my brother rose to high office, and the emperor granted her the title of Lady of Imperial Mandate. Only when she stood at the height of honor did everyone finally understand: beneath her cutting tongue was the softest heart.

I have been able to breathe underwater since I was little, and I often hide at the bottom of the river to play with the fish and shrimp.

When I am seven, the county magistrate begins sacrificing young girls to the River God in exchange for favorable weather.

The family of each chosen girl receives five taels of silver and two sacks of rice.

Every time, I rescue the girl and secretly hide her in the mountains beside the river.

When I am sixteen, my parents bind my hands and feet while I sleep.

“Yuniang, your brother is old enough to take a wife.”

“This year, it is your turn to be sacrificed to the River God!”