Single Parent

Survival Guide for a Vicious Woman

After we broke up, I ran into my ex at the mall.

My hair was a mess, and I was in the middle of a frantic struggle to change a diaper.

He, on the other hand, was impeccably dressed, surrounded by a fawning entourage as he inspected the premises.

Our eyes met. When he saw the fussy child in my arms, his expression shifted instantly. “Is he mine?”

I gave a cold laugh and turned the baby’s face toward him. “Do you think he looks like you?”

He studied the child for a long moment before nodding with certainty. “He does.”

“Xue Chang, we broke up over three years ago.” I gave him a mirthless smile and bounced the little one in my arms to remind him. “My baby is only six months old.”

Sad Things

I did something terrible back in middle school.

At the time, I didn’t think much of it. I was even relieved that no one ever found out.

But once I learned the full truth, the despair made me want to die.

A person as vile and shameless as me is surely bound for Hell.

The Bone Demon in the Village

I am a Bone Demon, trapped for countless years within that cold, desolate graveyard.

No one can see me, and no one can hear me. I have spent centuries in solitary silence.

Until one midsummer, when the sun was shining just right.

A young girl came to sweep the graves, but she mistakenly offered her tributes to me.

I took a bite of a crisp peach and said, “Truly sweet.”

She froze for a moment, then covered her mouth and stifled a giggle.

“Next year, I’ll come again.”

True to her word, she returned year after year, bringing me crisp peaches every time.

Later, she died, and her remains were carelessly tossed into the graveyard.

Her five-year-old daughter, clutching the hand of a younger brother who had only just learned to walk, came to the graveyard day and night to wail for their mother.

I couldn’t stand the noise.

I possessed her body, crawled out from the straw mat, and clumsily gathered those two little brats into my arms.

“Keep crying, and Mother will eat you.”

The Princess Only Wants a Divorce

During the year our love was at its peak, the young general whose name shook the borderlands used all his military merit to petition my Imperial Father for my hand in marriage.

But three years later, a woman arrived at our door clutching a child, weeping and begging me to take them in.

My husband claimed he had simply had too much to drink and made a terrible mistake.

My mother-in-law said that since I had already ruined my husband’s career prospects, I could not go so far as to sever his bloodline as well.

My closest kin advised me to be magnanimous, telling me that this was simply how every mistress of a household in the capital lived.

Only my sister, with whom I had never seen eye to eye, patted my back and told me: “In the past, you let your Imperial Brother make your decisions for you.” “Later, you let your husband make your decisions for you.” “Now, it is time you learned to grow up on your own.” “After all, you have a little girl of your own now.”

I looked down at the tiny daughter in my arms, who was still sucking on her fingers.

I understood that if I were weak, my daughter would never know how to be strong.

If I were easily bullied, my daughter would never know how to be independent. This time, it was my turn to act.